#i call this: moments before your world is turned upside down | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tonycries · 6 months ago

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Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.

Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does.

Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.0k

A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.

“You’ve never what?”

“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.

---

Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you.

He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.

It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.

Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.

The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.

Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any.

“Um, welcome to-”

“Your hair’s funny.”

Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?

Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”

And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears.

After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day.

But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.

Oh.

Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder.

Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.

He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-

“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”

Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.

“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”

“Bye, crybaby.”

And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-

“Big bro, why are you so red?”

Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting.

Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.

“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”

“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter.

Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?”

No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question.

Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-

“Man, are you even listening?”

Shit.

Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.

Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Am not.”

“Am to.”

“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”

God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane.

Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.

“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”

Perfect. Great. Wonderful.

The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?

“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”

Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”

“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is.

Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”

You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust.

Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-

Click!

“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”

You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”

His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”

“Dad, I’m running away.”

That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact.

It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad.

Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-

“You alright, Cho?”

Ah.

Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.”

“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart.

“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”

“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn��t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”

“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.

“Cho.”

“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful.

And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.

“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”

“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”

“I don’t know either of you two.”

It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod.

He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”

Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”

“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years.

“I don’t know what you-”

“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”

And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”

Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”

Raising a brow, “What?”

“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”

“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years.

“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”

Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way.

“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’.

Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”

“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”

“Wanna bet, brat?”

“...”

Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet.

Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him.

Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night.

“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.

Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.

“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”

Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”

Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him.

“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.

You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”

He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”

Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.

“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-

“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit.

“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you.

You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”

“You know…”

“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy.

“Choso.”

Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted.

Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”

And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”

And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-

“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”

And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole.

“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-

“Use me.”

Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”

“Use me.”

There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch.

And, well, how could you say no to that?

Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth.

And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now.

So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.

You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”

And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard.

Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high.

“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”

The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”

“No.”

You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”

Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway.

“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”

“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss.

Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor.

And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this? He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls.

You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”

“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”

Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him.

“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”

You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him.

He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”

And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass.

“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”

“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good.

“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”

A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”

You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”

“Mhm?”

“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”

Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now.

“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.

“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours.

“Cum f’me, my girl.”

My girl.

And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.

Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base.

“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below.

“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips.

In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now.

“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”

And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years.

Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with.

It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken.

“Crybaby.”

“Cho.”

“Corny.”

“You started it.”

Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go.

“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”

“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”

---

Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More

Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX

-Jin.

Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still

Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX

-Jin.

Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else?

Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk

Kugisaki: *spare

And you just LET him?

Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER

…

AND DID IT ANYWAY

Kugisaki: L

Fushiguro: L

Gramps: L

Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????

*Fushiguro has left the chat*

Dad: :0

-Jin.

A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #choso #tonywrites #choso kamo

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moonlesslights · 1 year ago

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Two Idiots in Love

Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: Sex, P in V, choking, breeding kink, innuendos, Miguel it's fucking hard to talk to.

A/N: Hope you enjoy this, I haven't sleep well for three days trying to get it done, but it's finally here. Love y'all xoxox

━━━━━━✧❂✧━━━━━━

Ok, but what about you becoming an Spider just about a year ago?

You are managing just fine.

Things got nasty for a while, that’s true. Your uncle died, your new responsibilities caught up on you, you almost die fighting some bad guys on your first months… And now you just try to eat three times a day (sometimes it doesn’t happen), pray to get more than six hours of sleep and do good in college.

But then, out of fucking nowhere, just when you were making peace with what your life was now and who you are, your identity, your place in this big ass world where you were completely alone to bear this double life… This giant prick with sullen face and cheeks the size of the moon comes into your life to tell you you’re not alone, everyone here has experienced the same or worse, stop being so dramatic.

So, in a second, your protagonist moment turns to you finding out there were thousands like you out there. And your whole life goes upside down.

Because now you don’t have to protect and look out only for your Earth, your city; but everyone else’s too. You have to travel to the most craziest worlds you could’ve ever imagine and fight horrible creatures you couldn’t even conceive its existence. And to make things even worst, Mr. Wide Hindquarters took an special hold of you to help him out with anything he would be ‘to busy’ to do. Like inform new recruits about their missions, filling out reports, doing research either respecting to what he occupied in the laboratory or to some universe yet to be explored… Whatever he needed, you would be called in to do it.

Some Spiders told you you were lucky, not many could work that close to Miguel, let alone being in charge of so many things without screwing something up and getting ‘their head ripped’. Even Lyla tells you that you’re something special, specially on the hard days, that’s why Miguel trusts you so much. After that you would just smile tiredly at her, whispering it was okay. Then Lyla would go face Miguel and demand him with a raised eyebrow to give you a break.

You manage for a few months, surrendering yourself to this strange routine. And your even more strange companion.

Every day you walk in to his space, every day he is already there. You turn a personal mission to arrive before he does. You never make it. The man apparently didn’t sleep and you aren’t waking the fuck up at 3:00am to prove a point or find out. So you let it be as another mystery to be solved.

“Good morning.” You wave your hand at him, making your presence known with that. Sometimes between a yawn, sometimes still cleaning the sleepiness off of your eyes.

“Good morning…” He always adds your last name to his greetings. It makes you feel like you are being scolded. Most of the time he is at the tables, working through the screens; if he’s not there, he’s at the lab, measuring substances with the help of crystal clear instruments.

Without looking at you, he points with his chin to the steaming coffee under the express machine. Through the weeks he has learned exactly how you like it. The first ones he made you were exactly like his: Awful. That couldn’t be drinkable. But you thought it was nice of him to always have hot coffee for you, so you didn’t say anything. But the faces you made at every sip were worth a thousand words.

Now, as you drink today’s, you cannot avoid thinking how cute that big stoic man must look every morning pouring the exact amount of sugar and cream you like into the cup. Moving the liquid with a tiny spoon until is all mixed.

He doesn’t talk much.

No more than orders and “Go home” followed by a “Good night”. You let him be for the first weeks. Not your business. But after the first month you knew you would go crazy if you continued this way of living.

You needed to talk to him. You needed to make things less awkward. He was your only human contact sometimes for entire days, and you cannot stand the fact of barely talking to him.

You don’t have idea how does the term “coworkers” serves on his Earth, but in yours, Human Relationships are encouraged to happen for the sake of teamwork.

With that very idea well tangled on your mind, one of those long days, you take a deep breath, imagine him naked (which isn’t difficult to be honest), stare deep into the space and say:

“Sohowhaveyoubeen?” Squeaking as fast as you can.

Miguel stops whatever the hell he is doing and turns his head to the right, side eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. You don’t even look at him, continuing to fill the document in front of you with the most unstable smile he could have seen in his entire life. Then, he turns around again, coming back to typing into one of the screens. You almost think he has completely ignored you until he answers in another fast and neutral line:

“I’m good.”

You give him an acknowledging nod, smiling softly and returning to your duties.

You had never wished so much to be victim of a lost bullet. Like right now. Like right fucking now. Please.

For one more week you took another personal mission: making a question a day.

“How was your day?”, “Did you have breakfast?”, “How was yesterday’s mission?”… It would be a good day if you got more than a monosyllable for answer. It was embarrassing, really. And Lyla looking at you with a grimace made it ten times worst.

After that, you just came in the eighth day and remained silent, focused in finishing all your work as soon as possible rather than trying to make your prick boss to talk to you. You felt bad, actually. Maybe he just doesn't like to talk, maybe you were making him uncomfortable, maybe... Maybe he's just an arse. Yeah, that is probably the right...

"Hm? Uh, what... What is this?" You look up from your tablet, facing the broad of his back walking to the desk at the other side of the room. You raise an eyebrow at the small cardboard box in front of you, the one that Miguel just left there.

"Food." He says as answering the very question to the origin of the universe.

"For me?" You tilt your head and he looks at you like you were stupid. You frown. How were you supposed to know that, when he barely even looks at you?!

"I did too much." He explains. "... So I brought you some. You can throw it away if you don't want it."

You look down at the box again, watching it as the weirdest of things, and cannot help the little smile that creeps up to your lips. You knew Miguel didn't eat at the HQ cafeteria, since he owns an apartment close from here, so this was completely homemade. Hm, you never thought he was into cooking.

"Why can't I give it to someone else if I don't like it?" You respond with an easy smile, almost teasing him.

"Throw it." He sentences without even looking back at you.

You side eye Lyla at your left, who winks at you. This is a whole ass victory. And you and the little hologram girl knew internally Miguel did not like the day you decided to stop trying to talk to him.

"Thank you." You finally murmur. "I really appreciate it."

"It's just leftovers..."

You nod, pursing your lips and… Still smiling. Fuck it. It was obvious he was going to dismiss it with something like that.

None of you says anything else for the rest of the day, but you make the choice to keep trying on the small talk every day and Miguel, apparently, started to mess up the amount of ingredients for his meals and brings leftovers almost daily.

You continue with this new routine for another couple of weeks.

With the time passing, you gain more and more confidence to talk to the big guy. Most of the times he doesn’t engage in the conversation, it is just you saying your thoughts out loud and telling him everything about your life at college, 'till the point he has a personal beef with some of your classmates. I mean, he doesn’t say it but he surely grunts under his breath every time you mention their name.

Gwen did asked you at some point if he really listened to you or if he just... Left you. You wondered the same for exactly... two hours.

"... And I handed him my essay, right? And he looks at me and says: 'So are you going to tell me who is helping you with these or am I going to find out myself?' So I obviously told him nobody was helping me, I just like doing them. And he freaking threatened me saying that if he founds out he's going to fail me. Like... He doesn't even listens. Agh, he hates me..."

"Is the same one who got angry because you were late to his lecture about himself and his recently published book?" That was a week ago. And he remembered.

You nod, sighing. Miguel clicks his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval.

He might not be talkative (at least for now) but he listens to you. You have no doubt left about that. He may not say a single word while you drop a hundred for minute, but he would come the next day asking "How was the test?" or would know you have classes with that professor and add to his daily good night a soft "Good luck tomorrow." You even start catching him lifting the left corner of his lips when you drop a bad joke about all the things you need to get done by the end of the day or about something you heard on your way there.

You noticed it when certain Spider came in to a meeting, a Spider two days ago you and Miguel had gossiped about because you were told something by your friends on Wednesday, Miguel heard some more on Thursday and with a final comment you put the pieces together on Friday, looking at him with a wide proud open mouth as he shook his head with a soft chuckle. Talking to the Spider in question Miguel would turn to you with the most neutral and blank expression and you would still fight to hide your smile at the memory of everything you found out during the week. No one ever noticed and you liked it. Miguel liked it. It was like a private joke only the two of you could share.

"But what would happen?" This was the part Miguel didn't like. "Like, how would you know I would fuck up something?"

"You cannot give Noir a kaleidoscope." He sentences, giving you another raised eyebrow.

You were in the middle of the daily session of Instructive and Informative questions, according to Lyla and you. Miguel prefers to call them Destructive and Irritating.

After today's mission you had taken a particular soft spot fo the black and white Spider, to the misfortune of your boss. So the whole session has been about the long shot of taking special gifts from your dimension to him.

"But why? Really, what's the worst that could happen if I just give him a tiny little kaleidoscope?"

"Ay, Dios, dame paciencia... You already gave him a rainbow slinky spring toy, why do you keep insisting on gifting him more stuff?"

He fix his gaze on you as you lower your eyes down to your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "... He just looks happy when he sees color."

Miguel sighs, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

"I know, but every one of us needs to respect the natural order of our Earth. He shouldn't keep taking things with him that shouldn't be there, do you understand?"

"But..."

"No more 'but's'. I want those reports done by the end of the day." Miguel returns his eyes back to the screen in front of him, dismissing you just with that action. "Get to work instead of keep losing our time with this."

He hates the way you comply to his orders. Hates the way you leave the space beside him empty to go working at the other side of the room, where he can only see your back. He hates when you refuse him to see your face.

The human part in him hates the questioning sessions because they always end up with your heart too big for your own good, crushed a little bit more. The human part in him is what brings him closer to you after a few minutes, talking you through some trivial topics until he can convince you it is all not as bad a it seems, until you smile again when you insist it's okay, that you just needed a minute, that you understand. And he might o might not tell you can give Noir that fucking kaleidoscope if you want it so much.

But some deep and primal part in him whispers into his veins to walk up to you, take you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him and order you you better not refuse your face to him one more single time again. That if he wishes to see your eyes, the curve of your nose or your lips, you better fucking show them to him... Every day. Every. Time. He. Wants. To.

He gets frustrated when he catches himself in the middle of those thoughts, of the drives. He has been able to control it magnificently 'till now. But he fears the day he won't.

For another while you enjoyed the 'leftovers' brought to you too. But it also came to happen the one day, they stopped being leftovers:

You yawn as you make your way to the exit of the lab, making sure your alarm for tomorrow is correctly scheduled, you can not afford another harsh look from your professors one more time. The building has fallen silent already; most of its ordinary inhabitants have already retired to their rooms or to their home worlds.

Miguel walks up to you from behind, watching you standing at the door. Neither of them managed to see even a ray of sun today. He didn't care, he had something much better to watch all day… But he can't help but sigh at the thought of taking it from you.

"Italian or Mexican?" You turn to look at him, barely catching what he said. Both of your brows furrow and he glares at you while adjusting the neck of his jacket on. "For tomorrow's lunch. You want me to bring Italian or Mexican?"

"Oh, uhm..." You widen your eyes, surprised by the consideration. Pursing your lips and squinting, you think about it for a second, but the only possible answer comes immediately after: "Mexican."

"Hm." He nods, fixing his eyes to the front again.

Both start walking now towards the exit of the building. You know you can open your portal to go back home now, but you refuse to do so. Miguel knows there's an exit on the other side of the lab that leads him to a closer path to his apartment, but he refuses to take it. Because you always take this one.

"It's getting chilly." You whisper, watching the first snowflakes of the season falling on the other side of the big windows in the lobby. Miguel hums in response. "I like it, though. The first month working with you I had to carry a fan with me everywhere. I am so sorry for the cost of the electricity bill back then."

Miguel tugs at one corner of his lips, but only that. You tilt your head, glaring at him for a second before you take two fast steps to put yourself in front of him. The poor man has to stick his feet to the floor to avoid knocking over you.

He frowns, confused, and you look up at him with those same eyes filled with determination you put on when you look at the cookies he always -purposely- leaves on top of the highest cupboard in his office. He could only describe it as the face of a master plan, because you would always come back with ideas to get them down without asking him for help. And he loved to play guess with what you would do this time.

"Smile for me." You ask as you were some kind of cameraman, and if he was confused before he's into a new level now.

"What?"

"Y'know..." You bring both of your index fingers to the opposite sides of your face and part your own lips into a simple smile, like showing him what he was supposed to do.

"I know what smiling is." He frowns. "Why do you want me to do it?"

You shrug. "I just... I would be really happy to see it."

Miguel's expression remains unfazed, but he prays to every God out there you can't listen how hard his heart jumped inside his chest when your words reached him.

He swallows. His eyes fix on you and he brings both of the corners of his mouth up, exposing bright teeth and two big fangs that brush on his lower lip in the most precious awkward smile you could have ever seen. His brows are drawn together and he looks like he's in pain, and you know that even if a fucking meteor crashed down in the city right now, you still wouldn't be able to look away.

You clear your throat and lament how his smile is gone as soon as it came. You brush your hand at the back at your neck, nervous, fucking ashamed of your imprudence. Miguel raises an eyebrow at your reaction.

"Thank you. That was nice of you." You smile, avoiding his eyes and solely focusing on the snow awaiting for you. "I'm sorry if it was unpleasant for you. I didn't mean..."

Your words get caught up in your throat when you suddenly feel the texture of fabric coming around your neck. You turn back to look at the front again only to find Miguel tugging his scarf on you, with his fingers making sure it hugged every part of your skin your sweater couldn't.

"Miguel, no. It's even colder here than on my Earth. You need this more than I do." You frown with a worried expression washing over your features.

"You'll come back tomorrow pretty early. And it's going to be cold." You could try and argue about you having your own scarfs to bring tomorrow with you, but his eyes tell you he is not asking.

"... Thank you."

Miguel laments the moment your turn around, laments the moment you don't look at him anymore. He is sure the smile from a minute ago hadn't been anywhere near one of his best, and yet your eyes shone with the light of all the moons he's seen in all of the Earths he has visited.

And as you do a little wave when you start walking away before entering your portal, Miguel waves back, slowly and with only two unsure swings of his wrist. It was enough to make you smile anyway. It was enough to keep him standing there even after you were long gone wondering what the hell he was doing.

When Miguel began to bring food made specially to share, you began to bring desserts from your Earth for him to try.

You both started having lunch together after you told him how tired you were of eating while standing. Don't get me wrong, when you first told him he 'offered' you to go eat at the cafeteria if you wanted it so much. But when he dismisses you for the second time the next day with a 15 minute break to go find somewhere to sit, you, instead, sit down reluctantly at the very center of his work space, just a few meters behind him.

Miguel has to do a fucking double take to make sure he is seeing right before turning around at you calmly crossing your legs on the floor and unboxing today's meal with abrupt and resigned movements.

"Could you be so kind as to explain to me what you are doing?" He tilts his head with amusement when you take the first bite of your food.

"Eating."

"Sitting on the floor?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Sitting on the floor." You nod.

"Care to explain why?" He crosses his arms, pursing his lips when you refuse to raise your eyes at him.

"... Because of you." You murmur, taking another unnecessarily aggressive bite.

"Elaborate, please."

You keep on looking down, chewing the morsel in your mouth. Miguel awaits for you with well known experienced patience. By now, he recognizes when you are mad at him or the world, he sees how you fight to keep calm inside of all of this mess, that's why he always tries to encourage you to talk out the things that bother you, because he's there, he can listen; because he likes the way you smile after you let it all out.

And maybe...

"I don't care about eat sitting comfortably at the cafeteria. I want to eat with you. So if you want to stay here be my fucking guest. I'm staying here too."

Because you were the only one who could throw a tantrum at Miguel O'Hara without flinching.

You have earned that right. You didn't know when, because you insist you don't throw tantrums at him; you're a college student, basically an adult, you don't do tantrums. And still...

"Fine, spoiled girl..." He sighs, walking to get his own little box from the table and then coming to close the space between the two with a few long steps. He sits down right beside you, imitating the way you're crossing your legs. "If you want to eat on the floor, we can eat on the floor."

"I'm not spoiled." You hiss, giving him a deadly side eye that puts on a soft, almost unnoticeable grin on his face. Lyla had made fun of him a few days ago about him spoiling you, but instead of getting on his nerves he took a liking for the nickname. And now you suffer the consequences of it all. "And we wouldn't be eating on the floor if you decided to go to the cafeteria for once."

"... I hate talking to people."

You sigh, nodding. That's exactly why you never push him to do anything of that sort.

"I know." You turn to look at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how he keeps his head low while eating. "Hey" You call for his attention, smiling. He blinks up to you, tilting his head. "It's okay." Your shoulder drops to his arm. "I like being here. I'm not stuck with you, you're stuck with me."

That makes his eyes catch a little bit more of light.

"Thank you." He whispers.

You stare at him for a second more and he fights to put all of the mess inside his head, his feelings, into his tongue... But he can't. You continue eating, and he knows you would never hold a grudge on him for it, and he's so thankful for that, for you being able to understand the way his actions speak when his words can't. But he still aches at the thought of never being able to tell you everything he wants.

The next morning you walk in to find out a new cleared space beside the screens with an elegant glass table and two chairs. It surely looked expensive, like everything he does and has, but for you, it's just the little corner where you can leave that particular cake from your Earth he seems to like so much, and then go to the laboratory to see the cake you seemed to like so much.

After two more weeks enjoying the day-to-day in the usual things in your life, you and Miguel got to a mission which revealed as the true calmness before the storm.

The anomaly you had fought was stronger than expected, more aggressive, more letal. Everyone had run lucky at least two times to escape from its claws, but you can still remember their closeness, the screams, the sirens at the distance. It all almost ends up with another canonic event altered.

"There's always a first time." Jessica had told you when you finally finished off the anomaly. She was worried about you, and you can't blame her. You haven't even registered how bad you were trembling until it was all over.

"Is there going to be a last time?" You replied, looking up at her with big eyes. And Miguel, only a few meters behind you, still trying to give some last orders to every Spider there, felt his heart breaking at the very sound of your words.

Nevertheless, thankfully, the universe remained perfectly fine and just a couple of hours later everyone was back home safely again. Most returned immediately to their Home Earths, but you, Miguel, Jessica, Lyla and a couple more had ten thousand things to do in the HQ before calling it a day.

"I thought I told you to go home an hour ago." Miguel points, coming from behind you.

You turn your head to look up at him and you can't not smile at the sight. The feeling of safeness that floods you when you see his huge figure entering any room hasn't wavered for a single second. He's still that solid ground you can always rest on when the world is to heavy to carry alone.

"I'm serious. What are you doing here?" He continues, grunting in pain when he drops his weight beside you. You turn to him, furrowing your brows in worry again. He had seen that expression in you so often today... And he hates it so much. "I'm okay. Just little scratches here and there."

You withdrawn your feet from the edge of the building where you had them hanging for an hour now and crawl your way to him, sitting down on your knees to try to be eye height with him.

Your right hand wanders to his bruised neck, there where the anomaly had left his horrible mark of the violence it brought within. You follow with your index the way the clotted blood draws on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

"Does it hurt?" You ask.

"No." He responds in between goosebumps.

He loves the effect your touch has on him. He loves your little hands looking for him, tugging at his clothes to call for his attention, brushing against his when you pass him the tablet, documents, anything. He loves the busy days where he doesn't have time to eat, where he wouldn't eat if it wasn't for you sitting beside him as he works on the screens, you scrolling through your cellphone, taking little pieces of food with a spoon or a fork to bring them closer to his mouth so he could eat without even taking his eyes off the screen.

Ridiculous? Yeah. But he loved the intimacy within. The many forms your soft hands could soothe him.

But his? He hated them. He was scared of them. Their only use was to destruct, to tear flesh apart, not to...

"Show me." He asks, pointing with his chin at your left hand placed softly above your thigh.

"It's nothing."

"Let me see it." He insist and you carefully bring your arm up, placing your fingers against his when he holds out his hand for you. Your whole palm is bandaged, the work the doctor did on you was amazing, but he can still see dried blood on it.

He doesn't say anything when he finds your eyes on him, conflicted, hesitant. There is so much between both of you, so much unsaid, so much still to do. But he sees your doubt, he hates to be the cause of it. He stays still, but he wants to scream at you, to make your little head understand: "How can't you see?! Can't you see how much you mean to me?! You're the only thing in my mind when I'm fighting, because I know I have to win, I have to get out alive to see you again. Eres lo único por lo que mi corazón llama!... Can't you not hear it?"

Instead, the tips of his fingers brush on your skin, his eyes reflecting every single light of the city below.

"Come." It's only a whisper that leaves his mouth, and you need nothing more to jump into his embrace with a desperate sigh, immediately cuddling yourself up on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking for his warm.

Hold.

He loves to hold you.

His hands serve to hold you.

To hold you against him, to protect you from anyone who wants to rip you away from his arms. To keep you warm, to keep you safe, to let you know you're home.

"Aquí estoy." He whispers.

"I know." You reply.

You breath into his scent for a couple of minutes more, until the screams and the sirens fell low to the sound of Miguel's chest going up and down in a soothing swing, his breathing, turning into the only thing you could listen to.

By the time you got your head out of his neck, he was already waiting for you with a soft smile, smile that puts your attention on the deep cut on his lower lip.

"What happened?" You ask, carefully pulling from his flesh to see the whole extension of the wound.

He sighs, closing his eyes with embarrassment. "I bit myself during the fight."

You smile, shaking your head. Your fingernail taps against the right fang in question, testing the edge by gently pressing the tip into your fingertip.

"I hate them." Miguel breaths out. His eyes are now so dim that you struggle to say where are they looking at in the middle of the night darkness.

"Why?" You whisper, taking your finger back at his lip.

"Because I fear of them. I fear they'll hurt you like they hurt me."

You purse your lips and then take his hand placed on your hip, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.

"Is the same with these?"

He nods.

"They are made to kill. I have done so many horrible things with, caused so much damage and pain, I..."

"Did you know I'm scared of heights?" His trail of words stop at your interruption. You smile, looking down from the edge, turning away form him just a little. "Ironic, for a Spider. But I still fight with it every single day. I always get so sticky when I'm on top of a building for too long it's embarrassing but..." You raise your hand in front of him, waving your fingers with a playful smile. "I'm not sticky now. And that it's because you're holding me." You cup his face. "Those things you're afraid of, are part of the person I love. And I wouldn't change a single thing."

"Mi cielo..."

"I knew what I was getting into when I decided to love you, Miguel, so don't get all soft now. I'm not going anywhere..." You whisper. "Make me bleed."

He would be lying if he said he haven't thought about it, that he haven't succumbed to his most animalistic urges when alone in the privacy of his room, pretending it was you around his cock and not his fist. He wanted to bite, he wanted to fill you. And he wanted to tear apart with his bare talons anyone and anything that got in his way.

A part of him might be scared to hurt you, yes.

But a bigger part of him was actually scared of what he would do to keep you safe. Of what he's capable of... to keep you his.

He feels sorry for you when you cuddle against his chest in your sleep as he stands up and starts walking back inside the building, covering you with his jacket to protect from the cold wind of the city for when he swings back to his apartment with you in his arms.

He feels sorry for the innocence in your love.

Like a beast, that's what he was. A beast who loved the softness in your touch, the kind in your words. But cannot return the same love. The beast is possessive, jealous of the very air that caresses your hair. And it may act vulnerable only to you, letting you get as close to slaughter him, but knowing you'll place a kiss instead. The beast would hold you as his own treasure, a creature that must not be hurt, not even for his own hands. He would cut them off before.

He would cut them off from anyone before they touch you. For no one should ever touch what he decided, that very morning you asked how he had been, would belong to him.

AND EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE CONTINUED ON GOING SO SMOOTHLY... BUT THE DAAAAAAAAMN FINALS, ah, made their entrance.

You barely have time to sleep, to eat, to fucking breathe. Your levels of anxiety are higher than the HQ damn building and your brain is so overworked you cannot do more than what you're asked to in autopilot. You know that you're only going to be like this for approximately another two weeks, but your poor lover has suffered the last four days thinking you're sick, or sad, or worse... Mad at him. No, not in that order.

"Arañita..." He calls for you. Your hand moving over your notebook at one hundred km per hour concerns him.

"The reports are done. Peter from -5266 and Hugh from -1993 are out right now. They should be getting back at any minute. Anomaly #125 was sent to its original universe this morning." You push the tablet to him with your free hand without even looking up or slowing down your writing.

"Thank you, but..." He tilts his head, furrowing his brows. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I just need to get this done before four. By the way, can I leave early today? I need to study for tomorrow's test."

"Again? Didn't you have one yesterday?"

"Yes. We're on finals, Miguel. We tend to have a lot of them these days. That's why I'm losing my mind over here."

"Just for some tests?" You have to stop yourself to remind you it's not his fault to be smart. It's not his fault being more intelligent than almost every person you knew. It's not his fault he doesn't know what is to struggle on school. It's not his fault, It's not his fault, It's not his fault... "You haven't even touched your food." He says, looking at the little box he got you with the meal now cold.

"I... I know. I'm sorry, Mig." You sigh, looking up at him for the first time in the day. "I'm just really stressed out right now. But I promise I'll take it back home later, okay?"

This was also the fourth day you didn't stay at his place. My man doesn't want to be a burden, but he has attachment issues, ok?, and after the week you spent sleeping in his arms, it may or may not be that Miguel has been having trouble falling asleep without the weight of your body on his chest.

After watching you leave that day, Miguel found himself staying till unreasonable hours of the early morning working in the lab. There was no point on going back to his cold apartment anyway... And he had a lot of things to get done. He didn't have time to...

"Oh, it's you." Miguel jumps in his place at the sudden voice calling from behind. "I thought that poor girl had stayed here, with all the things she seems to be doing these days."

The man shakes his head, ignoring Jessica closing the distance behind him, leaning against the door frame. Miguel can almost make out the little smile on her lips without turning around, and that only infuriates him even more.

"And why do you look like a caged lion?" She mocks. "Trouble in paradise?"

Miguel's first instinct is snap back at her and ask her to leave him alone. He knows she would comply, what he doesn't know is how benefic that would be for his current situation.

"I don't know what's going out with her." He admits, letting his head fall in irritation. "She says she's having some tests right now, but she's just to... Stressed? I don't know. She's so smart I cannot conceive how bad this is affecting her." The laugh that emanates from Jessica's throat makes his ears go red. "What?"

"Oh, babe, when was the last time you went to college?" Jessica puts both of her hands on her waist, pursing the lips to avoid smiling again.

"Why is that important?"

"When, Miguel?" She demands.

"Ugh... I don't know. Like four-five years ago."

"When was the last time you failed a class?"

"Never." He immediately responds.

"When was the last time grades were important on your Earth?"

Miguel frowns. "I don't remember. The path for learning had changed long before I was born. I don't even think I ever had something like a grade. We were judged individually for our skills and our intelligence type. Not memorization."

"Exactly." She claps, pointing at him with a all-knowing finger. "Thanks to that you got the chance to develop your true abilities as a student, but our girl from 2023 it is not beneficiary of this privilege. She doesn't get the chance to strengthen in what she is good, she must memorize and memorize and memorize over and over again. Because the tests on her Earth aren't done with the purpose of just checking how is her knowledge progressing, they are done to see if she's worthy of continuing forward in her very career."

Miguel remains silent for a minute, swallowing all the new information by pieces. For someone so smart, Jessica has never see him seem so lost. The nuts in his brain begin to turn and turn until his eyes seem to light up with the clarity of the light of the new world.

"Hm." He nods. "Thank you."

The woman knows he doesn't need anything more when he turns around, typing into one of the screens something that escapes from her eyes.

During the rest of the two weeks of finals, Miguel tried to do his best to support you.

He even read all of the information about your education system, striving to understand everything in just a couple of nights.

He's a man on a mission: letting you know he's there, that you're strong and smart, and you can do it.

While you study in the lab, he leaves you be. He gets you coffee, or tea, or anything you prefer. He might even hiss at people entering his space (your space) making too much noise, pointing at you with his chin and threatening eyes.

"Hey, girl..." Peter B. comes in one morning, moving nervously under the scrutinizing gaze of your lover. "Don't be so harsh on yourself..." He gives you some awkward pats on the back, smiling. "You're doing great."

That was all it took.

"No, I'm not!" You weep, letting your head fall on the desk, shaking between sobs.

"Great. Ya la hiciste llorar." Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Here, give it to her." He calls for Peter's attention, handing him an specific chocolate.

Peter takes it with confused eyes, offering it to you, reaching out his arm as if he were to touch you, you'll explode.

"Here." He says. "Look what I got."

You raise your eyes, meeting the little packing. Then, when you look at him, Peter almost thinks he just made all worst.

"Oh, Peter... Thank you!" You take the chocolate, pulling from him to a big hug. "I love these so much, thank you! You're so kind!"

Peter lets you be, looking back at Miguel who just nods at him to let him know this wasn't his first rodeo. He pats your back, soothing you with some more nervous words until you're ready to let him go.

If you're really struggling, Miguel won't think twice to help you. He's smart, it takes him nothing more than a look to his old notes or a quick search on the internet (specially if you're studying something science related or an engineering, if you're on law or arts, oh boy, you're gonna make this man suffer) to know exactly what you need and make sure you're taking that fucking project tomorrow.

Some other days, he just catches you sleeping with your hands crossed above the table and your saliva drooling out to your notes. His jacket would then come over you, after, he would take your pending stuff and start solving problems and making notes for you to have it easier at the memorizing part of the study.

You always wake up to see the edges of your paper full of arrows, little equations and encircled key words. And, sometimes, a tired Miguel sleeping uncomfortably by your side, just waiting for you to tell him it's time to go.

The day, a Friday, where you're finally done with college (at least for a couple of months) Miguel felt it like the day his soul came back to his body.

You are smiling all day again, calling his name, doing a mess all over the whole building. And he can not be more happy about it.

He might never tell you, me might even justify himself saying he had been staying up late working in the lab every time you ask for the bags under his eyes. Because he's definitely not telling you there were nights where he couldn't even close his eyes 'cause you weren't there with him.

"Time to go home." You hum behind him, getting all of your stuff inside your backpack.

"Thank God" He rubs his neck, walking closer to you to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'm dying."

You yawn, nodding. "Me too. These weeks drained me."

"Me too." He repeats, and you don't know how much he means it. "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? Hopefully tomorrow there won't be so much to do."

You smile, leaning into his embrace as you walk out the door, hearing the lights turning off as both come closer and closer to the exit.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"Okay."

Miguel steadies your body by pressing down on your hips, keeping your ass on the bed. You try to push his face out of between your thighs but he refuses to pull apart.

"Miguel!" You cry out, tears rolling down your cheeks cause of the overstimulation he was putting you in. "Too much, too much..."

His fingers curl inside you one more time, and your arch your back, almost rolling your eyes at the feeling. His tongue flicks over your sensitive bud again, dragging choked moans out of you. You try to squirm away but his hands pull you from your ass back at him as soon as you start moving.

"Easy there, Arañita. I'm almost done." He smiles up at you, letting you see the lower half of his face completely covered in your arousal.

"Mig... Mi amor..." You breath out, trying to push him out again when his chuckle crashes against your folds.

"One more, love, and you'll be ready for me." He sucks on your clit as he speaks, moving his fingers with an slower pace now. "Uno más, mamita, dame uno más."

He pushes his face down on you, working his tongue all around your most needy spot with his digits burying now deep inside you, hitting that soft place between your walls that makes you want to cry. You're a mess of moans and whimpers by now, but when his teeth slowly press on your clit, it's over for you. Your eyes roll back, your thighs tremble around him, encaging him in his favorite prison as he guides you through it, moaning into your skin when he feels your pleasure dripping on him, motivating his hips to hump against the mattress as a fucking teenager would do.

After you get down from your high, you look up at him to find him positioning himself between your legs, dragging the tip of his cock up and down on your folds.

"Miguel, wait, I'm..."

"You know your safe word, mamita, you can make me stop whenever you want." He places your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your hips, keeping you just as he wishes to. "I'm going in, and I want your eyes on me all the time I fuck you, ¿me entiendes, hermosa?"

You nod, watching the point where both of your bodies would join. He enters slowly, giving you time to adjust his size. But after the first hint of your hips trying to feel him even more, he pulls back and thrusts all the way in, making your head fall back as your back arches.

His right hand grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and observe how red his irises had turned.

"Eyes on me."

His pace speeds up, bottoming out with every thrust he makes. Your hands push at his lower abdomen, biting your lip to avoid crying out loud again.

"Too fast, Mig. Too much." You moan, your still overstimulated clit rips another whimper from you every time his happy trail and trimmed hair crashes against it. You were barely holding on, but your lover can't never get enough. His body reaches down, and as he places one hand around your neck, his other thumb toys at your clit in a excruciating pace. "Fuck! No, Miguel."

You tremble under him, wrapping your legs around his waist when you cannot think about anything more than cumming. Your nails bury on the skin of his back, dragging an out of breath grunt out of him.

"I'm, I'm cum-" You try to voice but nothing in your brain seems to work anymore.

"Do it, love. I got you." He keeps up his pace, almost kissing your cervix by now. "Cum for me, mi amor."

His hand squeezes a little bit harder on your neck and you need nothing else to see fucking white. Your mouth opens in a big O before your start trembling, shaking uncontrollably under his body, letting out the sweetest of sounds for him to hear.

He grunts, falling into the crock of your neck when you tighten your walls around him.

"I'm going to fucking fill you." He's out of breath and he curses something in Spanish you cannot make out. "I'm going to put a baby on your tummy, mamita..."

"Miguel..." You were on the verge of tears again, you cannot longer feel your legs but you surely can feel him deep inside you.

"Yes, love. Fuck... I'm cumming. I'm..." He bites down on your flesh, sinking his fangs into your skin when his hips stutter. His talons grow so big they dig into the headboard.

You moan at the feeling, hugging your body to his until he can breath normal again.

When he looks back at you his eyes have returned to that soft brown you're used too.

"Are you okay?" He asks, sending shivers down your spine when he caresses the sore skin.

"Yes." You smile and he traps your lips into a kiss. "And now I'm really fucking tired."

He chuckles, lifting his weight onto his forearms.

"Come here, amor. Let's take a shower so you can rest comfortably." He places another soft peck on your forehead. "I'll wash your hair."

You definitely know he will do more than that.

PD: Tbh with you guys, all I could think about while writing this was this tiktok:

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara fluff #miguel ohara smut #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #atsv #peter b parker

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nikkento-writes · 4 months ago

Text

Babysitter - Part 2

Pairing: dad!Toji x babysitter!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.8k

cw: age gap (reader is 21, Toji is in his 30s), explicit language, cheating, pregnancy, smut – PIV sex (doggy style)

Summary: You deal with the aftermath of your summer babysitting job turned adulterous summer scandal.

Author’s Notes: Thanks for all the kind words and support on Part 1 of this! I hope you enjoy part 2, and who knows, maybe I'll write a part 3 one day lol. Thanks for reading! Divider credit to @/fic-dumpster.

Taglist: @scorpiosugar @diegojeanne @f4irygard3n @cvixmei @soniiyi - more tags in the comments

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You blink away the tears in your eyes, holding the pregnancy test, hoping that somehow, you’ll blink away the second line indicating that you are indeed pregnant.

“No way.” Chiyo waits for you outside the stall, the apprehension in her voice apparent.

“Yes. I’m…” There’s a lump in your throat you have to swallow before you finish your sentence. “Pregnant.”

Your best friend’s silence on the other side only makes you panic more, but you don’t blame her. What can she really say to make any of this better? To stop your world from turning upside down?

She whispers your name quietly, at a complete loss for words. Then, she clears her throat, sounding as if she’s fighting tears herself. “I’m going to buy you a melon pan. Just…wait for me here, okay?” It’s the only consolation she can offer you in this moment, huddled in a public restroom of a convenience store; you appreciate the effort, nonetheless. You wait for her to leave, completely alone now. As soon as she’s gone, you sob into your hands.

It's not that you oppose being a mother. You’ve always imagined handing a positive pregnancy test to the love of your life with the biggest smile on your face, excited to raise a family together. Ideally, this would have happened sometime in the future, once you’ve established yourself as a full-fledged adult. Not like this: twenty-one years-old, less than a year until graduation without the slightest clue what you’re doing with your life. Worst of all, the father isn’t your husband, a boyfriend, even a friend. It’s Toji Fushiguro, the dad of the little boy you babysat over the summer, the husband of the kind woman who hired you. You still haven’t forgiven yourself for your adultery, the guilt eating away at you since the start of that lecherous summer fling. And now, you have this pee-on-a-stick to remind you how incredibly reckless you were to get involved with him in the first place. How undeniably irresponsible you were to have unprotected sex with a married man. Sure, it was the best sex you’ll probably ever have in your life. But was it worth it?

You wrap the pregnancy test in toilet paper, tossing it in the trash bin. Knowing that no good will come out of sulking in the 7-11 bathroom any longer, you finally exit the stall, washing your hands clean at the sink. Your phone vibrates in your back pocket as you stare at your reflection in the mirror, fixated on your belly, wondering what it will look like round and full of life. It buzzes again, snapping you out of your trance. When you check to see who’s messaging, you almost drop your phone out of shock.

Somehow, someway, the universe has it out for you. Because in the most perfectly disastrous timing ever, Mrs. Fushiguro decides to contact you.

~~~

A week later, you’re sitting on the train, heading to the Fushiguro household. Your stomach is in knots, both from anxiety and from the morning sickness. Sweat beads on your forehead, skin sticky against your clothing in this hot weather. The closer you approach your destined stop, the more and more nervous you get, almost convinced to call the whole thing off.

Believe it or not, Mrs. Fushiguro did not contact you to confront you about the dirty deeds you did with her husband. Instead, she messaged you in dire need of a babysitter once again. She spares you the details, asking if you could meet her in person to better explain herself. And for whatever reason, you agree.

You haven’t come up with a solid plan yet on what you want to do about your little predicament. So far, the only people that know are Chiyo and your parents, who, after the initial shock of it all, have been surprisingly supportive. They advised you to take the rest of the term off, which you were able to get arranged quickly through your school. This gives you several weeks to decide what you need to do. With one issue resolved, it leaves you with the next, and the most pressing: whether or not you should tell the father. The last thing you want is to break apart the Fushiguro family. You’re fully prepared to raise this baby as a single mother, which, with the help of your parents and best friend, seems doable. Besides, you’re not even sure if you want Toji to be involved considering his complete lack of interest in his other child, Megumi. Despite that, you believe that as the father, he has the right to know. Can you gather the courage to actually tell him?

Still lost in your train of thought, you hop off to walk to the house. When you arrive, you spot Mrs. Fushiguro already outside, leaning against her car in the driveway with little Megumi in her arms. They both smile upon seeing you, warming your heart. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for whatever is to come.

“Hello Mrs. Fushiguro,” you greet her, bowing politely, too shy to meet her gaze. “How are you?”

“Doing really well. Thank you for coming on such short notice.” She lets her son down, who steps towards you until he’s hugging your knee, cooing. “I wanted to talk to you in person about my complicated situation.”

“Is everything alright?” you ask, unable to resist kneeling down to meet Megumi at eye level, making funny faces at him.

She giggles. “Oh, everything is great! The divorce finally went through and I’m living with my new boyfriend now, who’s been the absolute best, especially with Megumi.”

You make a shocked expression, mouth agape, exaggerated for the kid’s entertainment, though you’re pretty much stunned yourself. “Divorce…?”

“Yeah! Toji and I have been separated for a long time now. I’m sorry I didn’t mention that over the summer. You’re still so young after all, no need to rope you into adult things.”

You almost bust out laughing at the irony, but you hold your tongue, continuing to listen to her.

She sighs, flipping her long, beautiful hair behind her shoulders. “That being said, I still care about the guy. I mean, he is the father of my child. Without me or Megumi there on a regular basis, the whole house has gone to shit. It seems like he’s actually taking this divorce pretty hard. So, I want to hire you as a babysitter for my ex-husband. Just for a little while until he can get back up on his feet.”

Another shocked face, which makes Megumi laugh while dread sinks into your chest. “Babysitter…?”

“Babysitter, housekeeper, whatever you want to call it. You did such a wonderful job with him over the summer, even while you were taking care of Megumi! I don’t know what you were feeding him. Whatever it was, he was definitely a little bit nicer when you were around.”

Lewd flashbacks replay in your mind of Toji eating you out sloppily, slurping up all your pussy juices in every room of the house. You focus on the ground, too ashamed to look at her. “Mrs. Fushiguro, I don’t know if I can do this.”

She squats to your level, reaching for your hand, holding it gently in hers. “I know this is a lot of ask. You’re the only one I can rely on for this. Please.”

A sense of déjà vu hits you. There’s desperation in her tone and it tugs at your heartstrings the same way it did when you first met her a few months ago. It doesn’t help that Megumi is now squeezing the index finger of your other hand, eyes full of curious wonder, grip surprisingly strong for such a young child. Would she be pleading with you like this if she knew the truth about you, Toji, and the baby? Even though they were separated during this whole ordeal, it doesn’t make what you did any better; you still decided to do it regardless of their marital status.

Maybe you can use this opportunity as a way to atone.

You finally look at her, giving the most convincing smile you can muster, trying your best to ignore the wave of nausea washing over you. “Okay. I’ll do it.”

~~~

Mrs. Fushiguro asks you to start at noon the following day, giving her enough time to notify her ex about your temporary employment. When you use the set of keys she gave you to open the front door, you step inside cautiously, not sure what to expect. You’ve been dreading this impromptu reunion all night, wondering if you could even face him.

It’s a mess inside, heaps of dirty laundry scattered all over the furniture, fast food wrappers and empty ramen bowls littered on the kitchen counter. There’s a stench lingering in the stale air in here and you almost think the worse, but Mrs. Fushiguro had warned you about this. Seeing it in person is more heartbreaking than disgusting. Toji really is taking this divorce hard. It wouldn’t be right to burden him with more life-changing news, right?

You begin by gathering all the trash into garbage bags, flattening any cardboard to recycle. By the looks of it, he’s been living off junk food and protein bars for the past month. The refrigerator is near empty, aside from a questionable take-out container in the very back, which you end up dumping along with everything else. You make it your next task to get groceries after you load the washing machine.

When you return from the store, Toji remains absent. Nerves prevent you from leaning against the bedroom door to listen for any signs of him in there. His ex-wife mentioned that he goes out to gamble at the horse races whenever he’s short on cash, so it’s likely he’s there. Still, you’re anticipating his return, mentally preparing yourself for how you’ll behave around him. Given your current circumstances, you are serious about turning over a new leaf. No more funny business with him. Absolutely not.

It’s near dinnertime now and you’ve miraculously accomplished tidying the house and doing his laundry all within a few hours. You even managed to cook soup for dinner, full of hearty beef and fresh vegetables, something to provide nutrients compared to the processed food he’s been consuming lately. You’re stirring the pot when you hear keys jingle from outside the front door. He comes in, clad in a tight-fitting black shirt that accentuates his muscles and grey sweatpants that don't leave much to the imagination. A plastic bag is slung behind his shoulder, clearly from a convenience store. Despite his concerning diet, his physique is still impressive as ever. Just one glance at him has you fluttering below your belly, replaying the erotic memories you share together. You turn to face him, standing up straight, feigning confidence while you fret internally. He looks at you, brow raised slightly, a small smirk forming on his lips.

“Hello sir,” you greet him, bowing politely. Acting as if he’s a total stranger and not the man who rocked your entire world over the summer, now with evidence to prove it.

He sets the bag on the counter, revealing a couple of ramen packets inside. “What’s with the formalities?” he asks, grinning. “If I remember correctly, you were screaming my name nonstop the last time you were here.”

Heat rushes into your cheeks instantly, not surprised by his vulgarity, though still embarrassed. You clear your throat, trying to stay strong. “I’m here to work. Nothing else.”

He walks towards you, his stature casting a daunting shadow as he steps closer and closer, towering over you. His voice is low, borderline threatening to a point that has you trembling. “So you don’t want me to fuck you anymore?”

You swallow hard, composure wavering. “That’s right.” Even you don’t fully believe it when it comes out of your own mouth, how can you expect him to?

There’s a strange look in his eyes, almost like he’s disappointed by your response. He turns his back to you, mumbling something about taking a shower. You watch him enter his bedroom, hearing him clear as day before he shuts the door with a dull thud. “I guess you don’t want me either.”

~~~

A week into being Toji’s live-in housekeeper, the two of you figure out a routine together that involves minimal interaction. You wake up in the morning to cook breakfast, eating it quickly and leaving the rest for him while you go out. You use this time to go for a walk, meet with Chiyo or your parents, do some grocery shopping, or just sit at the nearby park, enjoying the sun with your baby, who grows little-by-little each day.

Toji is usually gone the whole afternoon, either working out or gambling, so you’re able to do chores back at the house, like cleaning his room. He doesn’t return until dinnertime when tension seems to be at its highest. A big reason for that is because he’s made it a habit to eat right after his shower, shirtless and with his legs crossed on the floor, displaying a perfectly visible outline of his manhood. It’s distracting, to say the least. Chiyo mentioned the other day how you can have an increased libido during the first trimester. That’s definitely proving itself now.

Aside from the half-nakedness, something else surprises you about him. The two of you mostly avoid conversation with each other, eating in silence at the dining table while sneaking furtive glances whenever you get a chance. But he never fails to mutter, “Thank you for the meal,” before washing the dishes at the sink, retreating back into his room when he’s done. It’s the tiniest act of consideration that makes you wonder what’s going on in his head.

Tonight you sit across from each other as usual. You just finished eating the chicken katsu you made for dinner, along with a couple of side dishes you prepped earlier in the week. His abs look especially spectacular today and you find it harder than usual to stop peeking at them.

“You’re gonna burn a hole through me with the way you’re staring,” he says, chewing his last bite.

Shit, caught red-handed. You quickly look down at your empty bowl, mumbling an apology. “Sorry. I just…I can tell your hard work is paying off.”

“Yours too. The house has never been cleaner. And the food has never been better.” He’s looking directly at you, a genuine smile on his face. “Thank you.”

It’s no good. Your hormones are raging, sexual desire courses through you, all from that stupidly handsome grin and a silly little compliment. How did you ever think you could resist him?

You stand up, grabbing everything from the table. “I’ll do the dishes,” you offer, walking them to the sink, trying to calm down.

It’s no use, though. He sees right through you.

He gives you only a minute alone before he follows you, caging you between his big arms, your back to him, his mouth hot on your ear. “Let me help you.”

You let out a frustrated huff, already unraveling from his proximity. The smallest jut of your hips and there it is, his erection pressed to your ass, throbbing and even more massive than you remember it. “Toji, we can’t,” you whine, not making any attempt to separate yourself from him.

He slides his hands around your hips, pulling you in closer, rubbing his rock-hard cock against you. “I know you want it. I know you want me.”

And he’s right. You do. You want him with you, around you, inside of you. In all the ways he’s had you before, in new ways he’s never had but you’ve fantasized about. There’s no denying it anymore. You want him. You want him so fucking bad.

He takes you right there at the kitchen sink, bent over with your grip tight on the edge of the counter, pounding away at your wet, needy cunt. Neither of you bother to remove your clothes completely, Toji’s sweatpants shrugged down his thighs just enough, yours pooled around your ankles, soaked panties at your knees. “Fuck, Toji!” you moan, sticking your ass out to meet his thrusts.

His fingers find your clit, rubbing slippery circles around it. “Say it,” he grunts, increasing the pace.

Drools leaks out from the sides of your lips, too fucked out to process what’s he’s asking you. “What?”

“Say you want me,” he demands, massaging your swollen bud so deep, you feel it all the way down to your fucking toes.

“I want you. I want you, Toji!” you respond breathlessly, squeezing him tight with your orgasm.

“Fuck, I missed you. Missed my good girl.” He continues to fuck you, slowly now, relishing every second of being inside you. “Always so fucking creamy for me, fuck.” He pulls you up to embrace you from behind, fingers still pleasuring you, his other hand at your chin to face you towards him. The two of you kiss passionately, lips smacking, tongues swirling. So sloppy and wanton that it puts you on the verge of another orgasm, completely succumbed to pleasure.

You sleep with him in his bedroom after several more orgasms and a big one of his own, wrapped comfortably in his arms, with his cock and creampie inside you the rest of the night. For the first time in a while, you’re oddly at peace.

~~~

Your reckless decision making has led you into another troublesome scenario. Fortunately, you haven’t had any morning sickness the entire first week of your employment at the Fushiguro household. Unfortunately, it decides to come back today. There’s no way you’ll be able to make it to the bathroom near your room, so you have no choice but to hop out of Toji’s bed and run into his, clutching onto the porcelain bowl until it’s all out. You rinse your mouth off at the sink, hoping Toji didn’t hear any of it. But you know all too well by now that luck is never on your side.

He’s sitting up against the headboard, watching you come out of the bathroom. “Did you just puke in there?” There’s a hint of concern in his normally blunt tone.

You nod, bending down to retrieve your underwear and pants off the floor, avoiding his gaze.

“Are you sick?” he asks, the worry even more obvious now.

Shaking your head, you respond, “No, I just…I’m feeling a little nauseous, that’s all.” You walk towards the door, still not willing to look at him. “There should be leftovers in the fridge, so help yourself to breakfast. I’m going to lay down.”

He calls out your name. “Wait – ”

You ignore him, closing the door shut behind you, letting the tears fall down your cheeks as you retreat into your own bedroom, muffling your sobs into a pillow. After your wild romp last night, this bout of morning sickness has swiftly brought you back to reality. You’re still harboring the secret growing in your womb from the man who gave it to you to begin with.

There’s a firm knock on your door, startling you. “Hey, it’s me.”

In this split-second, you decide to stop with the lies and finally tell the truth. You open the door, Toji standing in front of you fully clothed in his usual attire, a serious expression on his face. “What’s going on? Talk to me.”

Eyes still puffy from crying, you take a deep breath. “I’m pregnant. And you’re the father.”

His mouth parts the slightest bit, no words coming out of it. The silence seems to linger on forever. You fill it by rambling all the thoughts that have been swimming in your head the last couple of weeks. “Before you start freaking out or anything, I’m telling you so that you know. I don’t expect you to be involved. I’m perfectly willing to raise this child on my own. And besides, I won’t be completely alone. I have my family to help me, my friends too. I’ll be totally fine. This baby is going to be well taken care of, I’ll make sure of it. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I just didn’t know how. But I feel better already because this has been stressing me out. It’s all going to work out okay? I think. I hope.”

After the long spiel, he stares down at the floor, jaw tight, mouth opening and closing, unsure how to respond. Eventually, he says, “I have to go.”

When he leaves the house, you crawl into your bed, bawling until there are no tears left for you to cry.

~~~

You wake up in the late afternoon to an enticing aroma wafting from the kitchen. It’s been hours since you’ve been in bed, moping about how poorly everything went with Toji. His reaction left you devastated. While you always expected to do this alone, hearing his negative response to it hurts more than you anticipated it to.

Curious, you make your way into the kitchen, shocked to find Toji standing over the stove, stirring a pot, the soothing scent of soup surrounding you. “What’s going on?” you ask, noticing a plethora of fresh vegetables laid out on the counter, along with a big bottle of prenatal vitamins and various snacks.

He turns the heat off, covering the pot with a lid. “I’m cooking,” he answers, facing you with a grin on his face. “Bone broth is a good source of calcium. And you need to keep eating lots of veggies so our baby is strong, like me. No more of this instant ramen shit.”

“I thought you were upset,” you say, stepping closer to him.

“I know. I’m sorry I left like that. I was shocked at first, I’ll admit it. But I started to get excited." He takes your hands in his. "I have a lot of regrets in my life, but being a father isn’t one of them. Being a bad father is. I want to change. I need to change. For Megumi. For our new little one. For you.”

Strangely enough, you believe in his heartfelt declaration. You smile at him, letting him go to stand in front of the stove, taking a whiff of the comforting aroma of the hot soup he made for you, happy tears welling in your eyes. He hugs you gently from behind, nuzzling his nose to you. “I’m going to do it right this time, okay? I know I can do it with you.”

As Toji caresses your belly, kissing you softly along the neck, you feel the weight that’s been heavy on your shoulders ease up. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

#toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x you #jjk smut #cw pregnancy

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itneverendshere · 4 months ago

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hiiii, i just read the school spirit fic with rafe AND ITS THE BEST FUCKING THING. i need a part 2 desperately please, i need rafe to play the best game he is ever played and everyone it’s like wtf but like omg. AND THE LAST GOL HE LIKE DEDICATES IT TO READER POINTING TO THE BLEACHERS. and then reader just goes with it and they fuck… please i need it

you ask and you shall receive! hope you enjoy <33

school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron (+18) - part ii

warnings: smut! paring: smart!reader x bimbo!rafe <3; pope being an absolute menace; read part i here; part iii word count: 4.7k

you were losing your fucking mind.

what were you thinking? oh, right! you weren’t.

the entire situation felt surreal, but there was no backing down now.

plus, when did some little dick hurt your feelings?

it was a win-win like you said before. if he won, you got laid after months without feeling a human's touch. if he lost, you wouldn't get laid and just walked away. either way, you’re not entirely disappointed with the outcome.

or at least that’s why you’ve been telling yourself.

as you walked to the stadium, your heart pounded in your chest, legs threatning to give out underneath you. yeah, you were a little nervous. but you blamed it on pope for giving you so much shit about the game.

he’d been insistent on you learning the rules, the players’ names, even memorizing their more common plays. it felt like he was trying to coach you into a small version of josé mourinho.

everyone knew you were not the type to get invested in sports, let alone a college soccer match, but today was different and you were stupid enough to let your best friend convince you to wear a stupid jersey with rafe’s name and number on it.

13.

of course that walking disaster of a man would choose the unlucky number for himself.

as you entered the stadium, the noise of the crowd was overwhelming. the chants, the cheers, the jeers—had you mentioned this was your first time watching a game? in real life? you knew people took this seriously, but it felt absolutely insane to witness it.

you could see the players warming up on the field, rafe among them.

he looked so different out there, focused and intense, very different to the reckless, unpredictable guy you were used to.

you followed pope like a lost puppy, and quickly found your seats in the stands, right in the middle of a sea of fans. some were dressed in the team's colors, others wore jerseys like yours, proudly displaying their favorite player's name and number. you felt out of place, a fraud among true fans, but there was no turning back now.

“turn that frown upside down, you gonna scare the bitches away.”

you rolled your eyes, “stop calling everyone bitches.”

from the corner of your right eye, you saw pope leaning closer, and without so much of a glance, you could tell he was about to spew out something stupid to piss you off.

“why are you so tense, hmmm? you’re getting laid tonight bro, cheer up!”

your hand instantly lifted to knock some sense into his head, “keep it down!” you hiss in his ear, “jesus.”

he just laughed, entirely unfazed by your irritation. “relaxxx, no one’s paying attention to us,” he said, casually draping an arm over the back of your seat. “they’re all too busy worshipping our soccer gods.”

you couldn’t help but glance around, noting the faces of fans who seemed to live and breathe for this moment. it was a different world, one you never quite understood.

you looked back at the field, your eyes finding rafe again. he was in his element, effortlessly moving through the warm-up drills, every motion proof to his athleticism. for a moment, you allowed yourself to appreciate the view. his jersey clung to his body, emphasizing muscles you hadn’t really paid attention to before…closely.

“hey,” pope nudged you, pulling you out of your reverie. “you’re drooling.”

“shut up,” you muttered, but couldn’t help the slight smile tugging at your lips, “i’m assessing the task.”

“don’t worry. rumor has it he’s big.”

you shot pope a glare, half-amused and half-exasperated. "do you ever shut the fuck up?"

pope just chuckled, shaking his head, “i’m dead serious.”

you were quiet for a minute. eyes drifting along rafe’s body, stopping—

“how big?”

“what?”

“how big.” you muttered under your breath, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to smack your friend for his relentless teasing.

he only sent you a wink, “you’ll find out soon enough sweetcheeks, it’s okay.”

"you’re so annoying," you gritted trough your teeth, trying to keep your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your stomach, “so annoying.”

pope just grinned, clearly enjoying himself far too much. "the game’s starting, enjoy the view.”

the game started, and you tried to follow along, remembering pope's endless lectures. but rafe was everywhere, moving with a kind of grace you didn't know he possessed, toned legs carrying effortlessly across the field.

you watched him, transfixed, as he commanded the team, shouting orders and making plays. it was like seeing a different side of him, a side you couldn't reconcile with the rafe who caused so much chaos in the library. it was kinda hot. when he touched the ball, your heart leaped into your throat. you could see the determination in his eyes, the fire that drove him.

then, it happened.

he dribbled past defenders as if they were mere obstacles in his way and then, he unleashed a powerful strike, the ball soared through the air, a perfect arc that left the goalkeeper rooted to the spot. time seemed to slow down as everyone watched with bated breath. then, the net rippled as the ball slammed into the back, and the stadium exploded.

"and cameron with an explosive start here! just six minutes into the game, and he's already showing us why he's a force to be reckoned with. that was a textbook example of skill and determination, folks! he saw the opportunity, he seized it, and he made it count! our boy is back!”

“holy fuck!” pope all but screamed in your ear as the crowd went wild, “what the hell did you tell him?!”

you turned to him, still sitting, momentarily speechless, as the realization sunk in that maybe, just maybe, your unconventional motivation had really ignited something within rafe.

"i don't know," you managed to shout back, your voice drowned out by the crowd. but deep down, you knew. maybe it wasn't about the specifics of what you promised but the audacity of your offer that spurred him on.

as the game rolled on, rafe's presence on the field took over. every move he made sparked cheers and chants from the crowd, adding to the electric atmosphere. it was a far cry from your usual indifference to sports, but you couldn't help but get caught up in the excitement of it all.

in every pass, every interception, and every almost-goal, whenever he got the ball, the whole stadium seemed to hold its breath, as did you, waiting to see what he'd do next.

you were a hypocrite.

because he scored, again.

when you thought, he was done showing off and making you eat your last week’s words up, you saw him turn to the stands after he celebrated the last goal with his teammates and your heart dropped to your ass.

there was no way in hell he was going to find you in that sea of people, right? you were safe. he was scanning the crowd, your section...searching for... you.

"shit," you muttered under your breath, trying to shrink into your seat.

“yeah, that’s on me. sorry. told him your seat.”

if you weren’t about to puke, you would’ve punched pope in the face, instead you chose to keep your head down, eyes rooted to your beat up adidas, resisting the urge to bury your face in your hands.

“he’s coming up.”

you lifted your head, looking at pope incredulously, “he’s what?! pope, don’t fuck with me.”

“i’m sorry it was just too funny,” pope snickered, shaking his head, “he’s not coming, but he’s staring at you with those love-sick puppy eyes.”

you reluctantly glanced down to find him staring directly at you, chest heaving as he brushed a few stubborn strands of sweaty hair away from his forehead.

you almost, key word almost, gasped at you handsome he looked.

then a grin spread slowly across his lips. without breaking eye contact, he subtly raised his hand, a gesture only you could understand.

and it hit you. it was a callback to your shared sign language class in freshman year.

how the fuck did he remember that? you didn’t. not until he did it.

hi beautiful.

you’d never felt the need to swoon over a man before. now you might. after what feels like an eternity, but were just mere seconds, you gathered your courage and raised your hand, mirroring his sign for a simple "hi" and adding a tentative smile.

it was an easy gesture, but it felt…different. rafe's smile widened in response before he turned to run back into the field.

pope, ever the instigator, nudged you again. "that was smooth.”

the glare returned to your face.

the rest of the game unfolded in a blur. rafe continued to dominate the field, scoring goal after goal with precision and skill that left you in awe. each time he celebrated, you found yourself holding your breath.

when the final whistle blew and the stadium erupted in celebration, your jaw was nearly on the floor.

had he played like that his entire life? was this the same boy that you threatened to punch in the face if he didn’t get his life together? the team's victory was clear—a resounding 4-0 win.

"remember that name, folks—rafe cameron. he's not just a player; he's a game-changer. and with plays like that, he's proving why he's a standout talent on this field today!"

"well," pope finally managed to say, his voice tinged with disbelief, "looks like you're in for a ride."

you could only nod dumbly as you watched rafe celebrate with his teammates, the bond between them palpable even from a distance.

you swore you even saw him hug jj.

as the stadium began to empty, you lingered in your seat, watching as rafe disappeared into the locker room with his team to shower. eventually, you gathered your belongings and followed pope out of the stadium.

“you gonna wait for him here?”

“i don’t know,” you groaned, itching to warm your freezing hands, “didn’t plan ahead.”

"so..." pope started again, "what's the plan now? going to find him?"

“i told—“

you were about to drill some common sense into pope when you feel something touch your back. not just something. a warm, blazing palm settling at the end of your back.

you froze, your heart racing as the warmth seeped through your jacket.

“cameron, nice game, for once.”

ignoring pope’s teasing, you leaned your head to the side, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. and there he was. looking at you with that same confident tilt on his pretty lips that had both infuriated and intrigued you countless times before.

"hey," rafe said, his voice slightly breathless from the intensity of the game and the excitement still coursing through him.

"hey," you managed to reply, your voice surprisingly steady despite the butterflies in your stomach.

“oh okay. i get it.”

rafe glanced over at pope with a knowing smirk. "thanks for coming out, man.”

“you’re welcome by the way.”

rafe ignored the comment, eyes remained fixed on you. "glad you could make it," he said, his tone softer now.

“okayyy, i’m leaving. stay safe, byee!”

“pope,” you yelled out as he excused himself, “my doorm keys are in your car.”

“that sounds like a you problem.”

you stared after pope, mouth slightly agape, as he disappeared into the crowd. you'd have to figure that out later. for now, there was rafe, standing so close that the air between you didn’t seem enough.

"guess we're stuck together,” you said, trying to sound casual, mentally cringing at how stupid it sounded.

rafe only chuckled, the sound low and warm against your skin, "seems like it."

“sooo—“

before you could finish your sentence, his hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him.

and then he kissed you

it was messy, sensual, and bruising all at once. his lips moved against yours with a hunger that took you by surprise, but you didn't pull away. instead, you matched his intensity, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as you kissed him back with just as much need. it felt like you were losing your fucking mind, but you didn't care.

he just felt so good.

his hands roamed up your lower back, pulling you even closer as if trying to merge you into him. his kiss was demanding, with a sense of deep-seated need that you hadn’t anticipated.

your fingers tangled in his hair, wondering if you’d ever get the chance to do this again after tonight. when you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless, his forehead resting against yours as you tried to regain your composure.

his thumb brushed gently over your cheek, “we’re leaving now.”

you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. “now?”

“yeah, now.” rafe’s voice was resolute, leaving no room for argument.

he hoisted you up into his arms effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as if you weighed nothing. oh wow, you liked this.

“what are you doing?” you managed to gasp out, clinging to his shoulders for stability. he was so fucking strong it nearly made you want to eat him whole.

“taking you to bed,” he replied, his voice low, “we’ve got unfinished business.”

the walk to his dorm? you couldn’t remember.

you were acutely aware of the curious stares from other students, but you didn’t care. maybe the day after.

rafe cameron was carrying you on his arms inside his fraternity and when he finally reached his dorm, he kicked the door open with his foot, carrying you inside, before locking it. he set you down gently, his hands lingering on your waist as he stared into your eyes.

there was a fire there, an intensity that made your knees weak.

“that wasn’t fair, y’know."

your brows furrowed in confusion.

“tempting me for weeks.”

“well—i didn’t think—nmph!”

his lips were on yours again, the kiss just as desperate as before. you melted into him, your body pressing against his as you gave in to the sensation of his hands exploring your back, pulling you closer. your fingers fumbled to remove his shirt. he’d showered after the game but you were still wearing his jersey. he helped you, pulling it off in one swift motion, revealing the chiseled muscles beneath. you couldn’t help but run your hands over his chest, enjoying at the hard planes of his body.

his hands found the hem of your own jersey, “you’re gonna wear this to every game, you hear me?”

you tilted your head to the side, in mock confusion, “who said i'm going to your games?”

he chuckled, the sound deep and vibrating against your skin as his hands worked to pull the jersey over your head.

“oh, baby. you will. you won’t be able to stay away.”

“confident, are we?” you teased, even as your breath hitched at the way his hands roamed over your now-bare skin, the warmth of his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“you’ll see.”

he was kissing you.

again.

more insistent, like he couldn’t get enough of you, and you reveled in the feeling of being wanted so intensely. his hands slid down to your hips, gripping you firmly as he lifted you, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist.

you felt the hard press of him against you, a reminder of just how much he wanted this—wanted you. he carried you over to the bed, laying you down with surprising gentleness despite the urgency in his movements.

he hovered over you for a moment, his gaze roaming over your body, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his voice low and husky as he trailed kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he went along.

you arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. “then stop talking and show me.”

that was the only warning rafe needed.

his hands were everywhere—tugging at your shorts, tracing the curves of your body, driving you wild with anticipation. he finally rid you of your remaining clothes, and you couldn’t help but shiver as the cool air hit your heated skin. but it didn’t last long, not with his body pressing against yours, his warmth enveloping you.

you lost yourself in the sensation—the taste of him, the feel of his hands gripping your thighs, the way he pressed into you.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice a breathless whisper against your lips, his eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt.

“god, yes,” you all but mewled, your hands clutching at his sheets, needing him to just do something, “need you to touch me right now.”

his fingers trailed down your body with deliberate slowness, “tell me how.”

you could barely form a coherent thought, let alone articulate what you needed. your mind was a haze of want and need, every nerve ending screaming for him.

but somehow, you managed to speak, “everywhere.”

a slow, predatory smile spread across his lips, and he dipped his head to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. his tongue flicked over the sensitive bud, drawing a gasp from your lips. his hand moved to your other breast, squeezing and kneading as his mouth worked its magic.

“like this?” he murmured against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing.

son of a bitch.

“yeah, oh, just like that,” you breathed, your fingers threading through his blonde hair, holding him close. “don’t stop.”

he didn’t.

his mouth and hands continued their relentless assault on your senses, driving you up the fucking walls. his lips trailed down your stomach, planting wet, open-mouthed kisses that left a trail of fire in their wake.

oh you needed to be fucked all right.

when he reached the apex of your thighs, he paused, his breath ghosting over your most sensitive area.

“rafe,” you pleaded, your hips lifting off the bed in a silent demand, “don’t be a dick.”

he chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin. “so needy,” he teased, but his voice was filled with reverent awe.

without further warning, he buried his face between your thighs, his tongue delving into your folds with a hunger that made you cry out. he licked and sucked, his hands gripping your hips to hold you in place as he devoured you.

this man ate pussy like the champion that he was and you loved it.

his tongue flicked against your clit with precision, with ease. rafe was relentless, his mouth working you to the brink, then easing off just enough to keep you on edge.

“fuck, rafe,” you gasped, your hips bucking against his face, desperate for more.

he growled in response, the vibration adding another layer of pleasure, and you felt yourself hurtling toward the edge. he must have sensed it, because his pace quickened, his tongue moving in perfect rhythm with the throbbing need building inside you.

your head was spinning as you looked down at him and met his heavy-lidded gaze searing a path straight to your core. you could only grab his bicep for stability, digging your nails into his skin.

and then, with a final, well-placed flick of his tongue, you came apart, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. rafe didn’t stop, didn’t let up, riding you through your climax until you were a boneless, quivering mess beneath him.

you never came so fast in your life.

when he lifted his head, his lips glistened with your arousal as he crawled back up your body. he kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. you whimpered into his mouth, the sensation of his weight pressing you into the mattress grounding you as you came down from your high.

“holy shit,” you breathed when he finally pulled back, his eyes dark with lust and satisfaction. “good job, cameron.”

he grinned, a boyish, cocky smile that somehow made you want him even more. “glad you enjoyed it,” he murmured, his voice a rough, sexy whisper against your lips.

you reached down, fingers fumbling with the waistband of his shorts, desperate to feel him inside you.

“your turn,” you pulled his shorts down enough to free his cock. it sprang free, hard and heavy, and you couldn’t help but wrap your hand around it, stroking slowly.

oh wow.

so big big.

your hand moved around rafe’s cock lazily, feeling its weight and heat in your palm. he hissed through his teeth, eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into your touch. you couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of him—so strong, so utterly at your mercy.

“fuck, you’re gonna kill me,” rafe muttered, his voice strained with need. he watched your hand with hooded eyes, his hips thrusting slightly in time with your movements.

you felt a surge of power, knowing you had this effect on him.

you grinned up at him, loving the way his breath hitched with every stroke. “don’t like it?”

his laugh was breathless, shaky. “oh, i do. but this—” he broke off with a groan as you squeezed him a little harder, “—this is something else.”

without breaking eye contact, you guided him towards your entrance, positioning him at your slick opening. he paused, his eyes searching yours for any hint of hesitation.

“condom?”

you nodded, your heart pounding in anticipation. “yeah.”

rafe reached over to the nightstand, fumbling for a moment before retrieving a condom. you watched, heart racing, as he tore open the foil packet with his teeth, the sound sharp and thrilling in the quiet of the room. he rolled it on swiftly, his movements sure and practiced. with the condom in place, he positioned himself between your legs.

he pushed into you slowly, inch by inch, stretching you until you thought you might break. the sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pain that made you gasp, you were holding on for dear life as he filled you completely.

“god, you feel so good,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. he stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to the size of him, his hands cradling your face tenderly. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “’m good. just—move.”

rafe didn’t need any more encouragement.

he started to thrust, slow and deep, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him to go faster. his pace increased, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more frantic.

“can’t believe— fuck, oh, this is happening.”

“rafe,” you moaned, your voice breaking with every thrust. “just—don’t stop.”

his hand slipped between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy. he rubbed it in tight, relentless circles, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire being.

“fuck, that’s it,” rafe groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic, his grip on your hip tightening ,“so fucking beautiful.”

his lips found yours in an all-spit kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that matched the relentless pace of his hips. your fingers dug into his shoulders as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak.

"oh fuck," you gasped, breaking the kiss as the sensations overwhelmed you, “rafe,” you gasped, your fingers digging into his back, “i’m—”

“i know,” he cut you off, his voice strained. “me too.”

you could feel yourself teetering on the edge, every nerve in your body on fire. and then you were falling, your orgasm crashing over you, leaving you breathless and shaking in his arms.

your climax triggered his own, and seconds later with a few more powerful trusts, he buried himself deep inside you, body shuddering as he came, his moans low and hot in your ear.

you held onto him, feeling the rhythmic pulses of his release, the raw, primal intensity of it making your head spin.

for a moment, neither of you moved, both trying to catch your breath, your bodies still intertwined. then, rafe rolled to the side, pulling you with him so you were lying against his chest.

you could feel the rapid beat of his heart beneath your cheek. you lay there in silence for a while, just enjoying the warmth of his body, the steady rise and fall of his chest. you felt strangely happy, considering everything that had led to this moment, but you didn’t want to question it.

“so,” his fingers trailed lazily up and down your arm, “does this mean you’re coming to my next game?”

“not sure.”

the sensation of rafe still inside you, combined with the aftermath of your shared orgasm, left you both in a haze of pleasure.

but you weren’t done yet.

there was a need within you that demanded more, a desire to push the boundaries even further.

you slid out from beneath him, leaving him lying on his back. his blue eyes widened slightly as he watched you, curiosity and anticipation written all over his face. you settled yourself between his legs, your hands tracing the defined muscles of his abs before wrapping around his still-hard cock, after you pulled and tied the condom, throwing it into the garbage can in the corner.

“w—what are you doing?”

you didn’t answer right away.

instead, you focused on stroking him slowly, your hand gliding up and down his length, feeling the pulse of his desire beneath your fingers. rafe groaned, his head falling back against the pillows, his hips lifting slightly in response to your touch.

overstimulation was a bitch. so were you sometimes.

“you won, right?” you replied, your voice sultry. “here’s your prize.”

his breath hitched, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. “are you trying—oh fuck. trying to kill me?”

you smirked, increasing the pace of your strokes, your thumb circling the sensitive head of his cock, spreading the pre-cum that had gathered there. “is that a complaint?”

“not even close,” he managed to say, his voice strained.

you could see the tension building in his body, his muscles tensing, his breaths coming faster. you leaned down, letting your tongue flick over the head of his cock, tasting the salty sweetness of him. he jerked, a guttural groan escaping his lips, his hands fisting the sheets beneath him.

“baby,” he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as you took him deeper into your mouth, your hand still working the base of his shaft, “shit.”

you reveled in the power you had over him, the way his body responded to your every touch, your every movement.

you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked him hard. his hands moved to your head, his fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you, but not forcing you.

it only made him hotter.

the sounds he made, the way he writhed beneath you, only spurred you on. you wanted to push him over the edge, to see him come again because of you. you pulled back slightly, your hand pumping him faster, your mouth focusing on the sensitive head, your tongue swirling around it, teasing him mercilessly.

“’m so close,” he gasped, his grip on your hair tightening. “please, don’t stop.”

you had no intention of stopping.

you increased your pace, your hand and mouth working in perfect harmony, driving him towards his release. you felt his body tensing even more, his breaths coming in ragged pants, and then he was coming, his cock pulsing in your mouth as he spilled himself into you with a hoarse cry.

you swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him, the satisfaction of knowing you had pushed him to this point. when you finally pulled back, rafe was a panting mess, his eyes half-lidded, his body trembling.

“you just made me fall in love with you, again.”

"what?"

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imaginaryf1shots · 3 months ago

Text

You’re Mine | Charles Leclerc

WC: 6K

Possessive!Charles x Innocent!reader

Summery: You’re Arthur’s childhood BFF, you’ve been around the Leclerc for years before you had to move away. But now you’re back for a few months, not knowing that you’re here to stay.

Warning: Manipulation, jealousy, toxic relationships, more things to come.

AN: Honestly I have no idea what I feel a bout this, I’m not 100% satisfied. I may delete it later. my fist attempt at a dark fic.

Also, this was requested a very long time ago, I lost the request, though.

Masterlist

Charles Masterlist

Growing up in Monaco, you went to the same school as Arthur Leclerc. Arthur, with his messy brown hair and infectious laughter, was your closest friend. Your friendship began in a playground and quickly formed an unbreakable bond. You’d always race your bikes down narrow lanes, building sandcastles on Larvotto beach, or exploring the markets with insatiable curiosity. You two were inseparable.

Your families met because of your bond, and they formed their own friendships. It was due to the closeness that your families formed that you got to meet his brothers.

You saw Charles and Arthur karting, and you;d go with them from time to time, but while they were competitive and wanted to do it for life, you just wanted to join them and have fun. One of the reasons you and Arthur got so close is because you got into what the other liked and had fun while doing it.

Yet, in the background of your friendship with Arthur was your crush on his older brother, Charles. Charles is older by a few years and carried an air of confidence that captivated your young heart. He always seemed so cool, had that unattainable air around him, his striking looks and natural charm didn’t help. He was the epitome of everything you admired, but to him you were just his little brother’s friend, a mere child.

Charles has always been so sweet with you, and no matter how much time passed the blush that always graced your cheeks around him always stayed, it was permanent whenever he was in the same room as you.

You remember vividly the simmer afternoons spent at the Leclerc household. Arthur would always drag you along to play video games or just spend time together, while Charles, often busy with his racing aspirations, would give you a smile. Those moments, however brief and meaningless in the scheme of things, fouled your childish infatuation. You watched him from a distance, never expecting to actually catch his attention one day.

You thought you were discreet with your crush, but once you’re out of earshot, the adults would always joke about it, your mums dreaming of being one family one day and planning the wedding. It amused them to see how much you hung on every world Charles said and looked at him as if he was an angel, and how oblivious Charles was.

You remember the day your world turned upside down very well, it’s etched in your memory. Your father announced out of the blue, “We’re relocating to New York.” He said, excitement in his voice. The news felt like a punch to the gut. You were only twelve, but the thought of leaving Arthur and your familiar world behind was devastating.

“We’ll stay in touch, promise?” Arthur, who was equally crushed by news said his voice was shaky but he was determined. You both exchanged trinkets as tokens of your friendship. A bracelet from you and a racing car from him.

“Always.” You replied, tears brimming your eyes.

The move was a whirlwind, and soon you found yourself in the concrete jungle of New York City, a stark contrast to the serene beauty of Monaco. Despite the distance, you and Arthur remained in touch. Long phone calls, video chats, and countless messages kept your friendship alive. You shared your experiences, your struggles, and your triumphs, growing up together despite the miles between you.

Years passed, and your infatuation with Charles dimmed to a fond memory as you immerse yourself in your new life. But as you matured, you often wondered how different things might have been if you had stayed in Monaco. The thought lingered in the back of your mind, a faint but persistent echo of your childhood dreams.

Now, at twenty-one, you stood at a crossroads, ready to reconnect with the past. The opportunity to return to Europe for a summer was too enticing to pass up. Once Arthur heard about it he was ecstatic at the prospect of you two meeting again, and plans were quickly made for your grand reunion. The anticipation of seeing him again, of revisiting the places that shaped your childhood, filled you with excitement and a touch of nostalgia.

Little did you know, this trip would be more than just a walk down memory lane. It would be a journey that would intertwine your fate with Charles once more, in ways you could never have imagined.

The plane descended towards the Côte d'Azur Airport, and as you gazed out the window, your heart raced with anticipation. The Mediterranean's blue expanse sparkled below, the coastline of Monaco coming into view. It had been a decade since you'd seen these familiar sights, but they felt like a distant yet vivid memory.

After clearing customs, you wheeled your suitcase through the bustling terminal. Your excitement was palpable, mingled with the nervousness of reuniting with a childhood friend after so long. Would Arthur have changed much? Would your bond still be as strong? It has been the same online but, being face to face could be different.

Stepping out into the arrivals area, you scanned the crowd. And there he was, Arthur Leclerc, standing tall with that same mischievous grin you remembered. His hair was a bit shorter, his features more mature, but the spark in his eyes was unmistakable. A spark that video class couldn’t carry.

“Y/N!” Arthur called out, his voice filled with joy. You waved back, and in moments, you were enveloped in a tight hug.

"Arthur! It's so good to see you." You said, pulling back to take in his appearance. “You’re so tall now.”

"It’s good to see you! You look amazing." He replied, his eyes shining with genuine warmth. "I can't believe it's been ten years, I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too.” You say tearing up, Arthur’s eyes get glossy as well, and you’re hugging once again, this time you stay in each other’s arms for a bit longer.

“Come on, let's get you out of here and catch up." Arthur says after you pull back, he takes your bags and heads to his car.

The drive from the airport to Monaco was filled with laughter and stories, both of you eager to fill in the gaps of the years apart, things that haven’t been said on calls. Arthur had grown into a confident young man, his passion for racing more intense than ever. You shared your adventures in New York, the highs and lows, and the dreamlike quality of returning to Europe.

As you arrived in Monaco, a wave of nostalgia washed over you. The narrow streets, the bustling harbour, the luxurious buildings. It was all like you remembered, yet with a sense of newness. Arthur drove you to his family's home, where you'd be staying.

Stepping inside, you were hit with memories of your childhood. The familiar scent of the house, the photos on the walls, it was like stepping back in time. Arthur took your bags to a room in a house, before you followed him.

“Y/N!” A delighted voice came from the kitchen as you walked in. Pascale Leclerc, Arthur’s mother, emerged with a warm smile. She looked hardly changed, still radiating the same kindness and elegance you remembered.

“Mama Pascale!” you exclaimed, rushing to hug her.

“It’s been too long, mon ange” She said, hugging you tightly. “Look at you! All grown up and even more beautiful.”

You blushed at the compliment. “Thank you. It feels like coming home.”

“We’ve missed you around here. Arthur has talked non-stop about your visit.” Pascale’s eyes twinkled.

Arthur rolled his eyes playfully. “Well, she’s finally here. And I’ve got big plans to show her around.”

“I’m sure you do. But first, let’s get you settled in.” Pascale laughed. Arthur led you to your room.

“You’ll be staying in Charles’s old room.” He said, opening the door. “He moved out a while ago, but we’ve kept it nice for guests.”

The room was spacious and neatly arranged, with a large window offering a stunning view of the city below. It felt both strange and intimate to be staying in Charles’s old room, surrounded by remnants of his past, trophies, posters, and photos of his racing career.

“Wow.” You said, looking around. “This is amazing.”

Arthur grinned. “Glad you like it. Make yourself at home. We’ve got dinner in a bit, and then I’ll show you around the house.”

After freshening up, you joined the Leclerc family for dinner, minus Charles and Enzo who were out of Monaco for a race. The meal was filled with laughter and stories, and you felt a warmth that you’d missed in New York. Pascale’s cooking was as delicious as you remembered, and the conversation flowed easily, with Arthur and his mother making you feel like you’d never left.

Later, Arthur gave you a tour of the house. As you walked through the house, memories flooded back, each room telling a story of your shared past. You spent the first week catching up, going to your favourite sports when you were young, going into Nice, meeting his friends and having the time of your lives.

"Guess what?" Arthur said with a twinkle in his eye as you joined him in the living room, one afternoon. "I've got a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" You echoed, curious.

“Charles got us tickets for the Spain race next weekend.”

“Race?” Your heart skipped a beat. “That sounds incredible, thank you Arthur.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Charles when we see him.” Arthur shrugged off your gratitude.

”I will.” You say softly, a hint of nervousness hits you.

That evening, you and Arthur walked along the promenade, reminiscing about old times. The city was alive with activity, the sound of laughter and music filling the air. You couldn't help but feel a deep sense of belonging, a feeling you'd missed more than you realised, making you want to move back here and not return to New York after the summer.

You flew to Spain with Arthur, it was like going on a trip with your best friend after speaking about it for years, the trip made it out of the chat. You made it for qualifying day, you dressed casually, but delicately. Your style is very feminine, yet stylish, and you weren’t afraid to show some skin here and there.

You followed Arthur through the vibrant energy of the race circuit. The roar of engines, the cheers of the crowd, it was electrifying. Arthur was in his element, greeting fellow racers and team members with ease.

As you walked through the paddock, you felt a pair of eyes on you. Turning, you met the gaze of the one and only Charles Leclerc. He was standing with his team, his attention focused entirely on you. Time seemed to freeze. The boy you once had a crush on was now a strikingly handsome man, exuding charisma and confidence.

Charles hadn’t looked you up on social media so he had no idea how you looked after 10 years. Yet, he had no doubt in his mind that the female Arthur was walking with is you. His eyes ran over your cream sundress with small flowers on it, the straps were thin and there was a slit up your thigh. With every step Charles could see your leg peaking through.

Charles approached, his eyes never leaving yours.

“Arthur, who's this?” He asked, though his gaze suggested he already knew.

”Y/n, you remember her from school, she moved to New York.” Arthur grinned.

"Of course, Y/N. You've...changed a lot." He said, his voice heavy, thick.

“Well, I’m not eleven anymore.” You say with a sweet smile.

”Clearly.” Charles says under his breath, you’re more beautiful up close. “Welcome back.”

”Thanks, Charlie, it’s good to be back.” Your heart fluttered, the old nickname slipping so easily from your lips. Charles had to swallow and force a smile, it’s been seconds since he saw you again, and you already have some type of effect on him.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of excitement. You watched the quali with Arthur, cheering loudly as cars zoomed by, the drivers skillfully navigating the track. It was exhilarating, a stark reminder of the world you'd once been so close to. Charles qualified P2. You weren’t able to see him for the rest of the day, due to briefing, and strategy meetings.

The next day during a break, Arthur introduced you to some of his friends, including a few drivers. You chatted amiably, feeling the warmth of their welcome. But all the while, you were acutely aware of Charles' presence. His gaze followed you, filled with something more intense.

At one point, you found yourself alone with him in the team’s hospitality area. Charles leaned against the table, his eyes locked onto yours.

"So, what do you think of everything so far?" He asked, his voice smooth.

"It's amazing." You replied, trying to steady your nerves. "I've missed this energy."

"I’m glad you’re enjoying it. It’s good to see you again, Y/N. You’ve grown up." He smiled, a slow, deliberate smile that sent a shiver down your spine. The way he said it, made your heart race. There was a hint of something possessive in his tone, but you couldn’t pinpoint what it is.

"Thank you, Charles. You’ve...changed too."

”Here give me your phone, so I can put my number in.” Charles held out his hand and you gave him your phone. Charles quickly punched in his phone number and saved it. You were distracted by some shouting some people were doing and didn’t see what he was doing, giving Charles the perfect opportunity to send himself your live location and delete it from your chat. “Here you go.”

”Great.” Before you could delve deeper into the conversation, Arthur returned.

"Ready to head back?" He asked, looking between you and Charles with a knowing smile.

"Yeah, let's go." You said, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment.

Back in Monaco the days flew by in a whirlwind of races, dinners, and nostalgic explorations with Arthur. Yet, no matter where you went, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Charles’ eyes on you. Always watching you.

Charles would appear at the cafe where you and Arthur were having lunch, or join you for a spontaneous outing. His attention felt flattering, a validation of the childhood crush you’d once harboured.

One afternoon, you were walking around Monaco, before you had to meet Arthur after his appointment. While you were walking Charles found you and took the liberty to stay with you. Charles suggested a walk along the harbour, and you agreed, enjoying the idea of catching up with him.

As you strolled along the waterfront, Charles’ hand brushed against yours. The first time you deemed it an accident, but as it kept happening, that childish blush you used to have in his presence reappeared.

“You know.” He began, his voice low and serious. “I’ve been thinking a lot about you since you came back.”

”Really?” You looked up at him, surprised by his tone.

”Yes.” He said, his eyes darkening slightly, but he gave you a slight smile to cover up his inner thoughts from showing. “I can’t help but feel protective of you, you’ve grown up so much, and… well, I don’t like the idea of you being here alone, so just whenever Arthur is busy just call me, yeah?”

”Yeah, I will.” You continued walking with Charles, when a store caught your eyes. "Charlie, can we go into that store?"

“Of course.” You and Charles head into the boutique. Charles places his hand on your back as he guides you in the shop. Your cheeks flushed, you thought he'd remove his hand once you're inside the shop but his hands stayed there. Charles followed you around the shop as you looked at all the trinkets, a vintage jewellery box gaining your attention.

“Charlie, look, isn't it cute?” You pick up the box and open it, turning to show the man behind you, Charles's hand stays on you, but it moves from your back to your waist.

“It's very cute.” You look up only to see him looking at you, you bite your bottom lip to stop the smile from forming on your face, Charles' eyes fall onto your lips before they go back to your eyes. You turn back around and look through the shelves, smiling to yourself now that he couldn't see your face. Or so you thought, Charles caught your smile in one of the mirrors on the shelf. He was happy that he made you smile, your smile is so sweet he wants it all to himself. After a bit of browsing you end up with a couple things that you liked. The guy at the till smiles at you, Charles' jaw clenches. Charles' hands drop from your back to his pocket he takes out his card and hands it

to the guy.

“Charliee, I can pay.” You whine and try to give the guy your card, but Charles takes your hand in his and drops it.

“You're never paying when I'm with you, amour.” You pout but put your card back in your small bag you carried with you, trying not to over think the pet name he called you. Charles takes the bag from the cashier and you both head out, this time Charles' arm is around your shoulder. You're walking closer to each other now. Closer than before for sure.

“Thank you.” You tell him after a moment of silence, you look up at him and his face is much closer to yours now with his arm around your shoulder. “F-for buying me this, and-and for keeping me company with Arthur being busy.”

“Any time, whenever Arthur is busy just call me I'll always keep you company.” Charles says with a charming smile, reiterating what he said earlier. “Even if you want to take a break from him just tell me."

“I will.” You say with a giggle.

It was another race week and you're invited, Arthur was with his friends in F2, and so you decided to stick with Charles for most of the day. He introduced you to Rebecca and so you sat with her for lunch before KiKa also joined you and soon also Lily came. The girls were super polite they didn't ask you what your relationship with Charles, they all went through fazes of wanting to keep their relationship private, and

not confirming anything. Charles knew what he was doing, he was walking through the paddock to go from one place to the other when he saw the female gathering, he walked up behind you placing his hand on your shoulder. You look up startled before smiling when you see Charles, he greets the ladies. He leans to whisper in your ear.

“Do you need anything?”

“No thank you, don't worry about me.”

“Hard not to.: He says before he gives everyone one last smile and he leaves. The girls all share knowing looks, but keep their thoughts to themselves. It's been a while since Charles has been in a relationship, but they can see the signs.

When Charles finished his duties and heads back to where you are, he stops dead in his tracks. You're talking with Lando, smiling at what he's saying.

"Come on, mate, it's just Lando." Carlos who was walking with his teammate said seeing the look on Charles' face. He's not happy, at all. Why is Lando talking to you? Didn't he know you're with him? What could he be saying that's so funny? Lando isn't that funny. Charles walks up to you and places his hand around your shoulder, Leaving Carlos to go talk to his own girlfriend.

"Hey, I see you met y/n." Charles says with a cold smile.

"Yeah, I was telling her about Quadrent." Lando said, he picked up on Charles' demeanour and it left him confused, Charles is always kind, and easy going. He's never cold or standoffish.

"Why?" Charles asks and you look up at him confused.

"Charlie." You mumble softly, he glances down at you before his eyes settle back on Lando, who looked very uncomfortable at the moment like he wanted to be anywhere but here. "I asked him what he does when he's not racing."

"Hmm, okay, we have to go." Charles says and doesn't leave room for argument before he steers you away from the conversation and Lando.

"That was a bit rude." You mumble to Charles, he sighs and looks at you for a moment.

"I was just trying to protect you."

"From what?"

"Look, stay away from Lando, he was only talking to you because he wants to be with you." Charles tells you with so much assurance, like what he's saying is a fact.

"What? I don't think so." You frown, going over the conversation you just had with the British man, nothing standing out to you.

"Amour, I know Lando, believe me when I say he had anterior motives." You weren't 100% convinced, Charles stopped and turned you to face him, his hands on your shoulders. "Who knows Lando better?" He asked you.

"You do."

"Who knows his history with women?"

"You do.”

"Then believe me, when I say him talking with you wasn't innocent." You nod, believing him. I mean why would he lie to you? There's no reason for him to do that. You trust Charles.

The sun dipped low over Monaco, casting a warm golden glow across the city. You were sitting with Arthur at a cosy café near the harbour, sipping on an iced coffee and catching up on the latest gossip. Arthur was recounting a particularly amusing story from the paddock when you felt a familiar presence approaching.

Charles strolled up to your table, his smile bright and confident. "Hey, Arthur. Y/N," he greeted, his eyes lingering on you. "Mind if I join you?"

"Not at all, pull up a chair." Arthur waved him over.

As Charles sat down, you couldn't help but notice the way his gaze seemed to drink you in. It was intense but not entirely uncomfortable. You smiled shyly, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

"So, Y/N." Charles began, leaning forward slightly, "I've been thinking. You've been back in Monaco for a while now, and I haven't really had the chance to take you out properly."

"Oh?" Your heart skipped a beat, is this really happening?

Arthur grinned, sensing what was coming. "Sounds like someone has an idea."

"I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me this weekend.” Charles nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “Just the two of us. I want to show you around, maybe take you to a nice dinner. What do you say?"

You felt your cheeks flush with excitement. The boy you had once idolized was now a man, standing before you and asking you out on a date. The crush you thought you'd outgrown resurfaced, stronger than ever. You bit your lip, trying to contain your giddiness.

"I'd love to." You replied, your voice almost a whisper.

Charles' smile widened, his eyes sparkling with genuine happiness. "Great. I'll pick you up at seven?"

"Seven it is." You agreed, your heart fluttering.

Arthur chuckled, giving you a playful nudge. "Looks like you have a date."

”Shut up.” You say under your breath fighting the blush that was a permanent fixture on your face. Arthur laughed and wiggled his eyebrows at you.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur of conversation and laughter, but you couldn't shake the excitement bubbling inside you. Charles' invitation had lit a spark in you, one that had been dormant for years. You felt a renewed sense of anticipation, eager to see where this evening would lead.

When the weekend arrived, you found yourself nervously preparing for the date. You chose a dress that was elegant yet understated, wanting to strike the perfect balance. As you applied the finishing touches to your makeup, you couldn't help but smile at your reflection. This was it, the night you had been waiting for.

Right on time, Charles arrived at the Leclerc home, looking effortlessly handsome in a tailored suit. He greeted you with a warm smile, his eyes filled with admiration.

"You look stunning." He said, offering his arm.

"Thank you." You replied, feeling the blush return to your cheeks.

As you walked to his Ferrari, you felt a mix of nerves and excitement. The car roared to life, and soon you were speeding through the streets of Monaco, the city's lights twinkling around you. Charles drove with ease, occasionally glancing over at you with a smile.

He took you to a luxurious restaurant perched on a hill, offering breathtaking views of the city below. The maître d' greeted Charles warmly, leading you to a private table by the window. The ambiance was perfect, soft music, candlelight, and a stunning vista.

Throughout dinner, Charles was the perfect gentleman. He asked about your life in New York, genuinely interested in your stories. You talked about your friends, and the adventures you'd had. In turn, he shared his experiences on the racing tracks, the highs and lows of his career. The conversation flowed effortlessly, the connection between you growing stronger with each passing moment.

After dinner, Charles suggested a walk along the harbour. The cool night air was refreshing, and the city seemed to glow under the moonlight. As you strolled side by side, you felt a sense of contentment, like everything was falling into place.

Charles stopped by the edge of the water, turning to face you. "I've really enjoyed tonight," he said softly. "It's been wonderful getting to know you again, Y/N."

"I've enjoyed it too." You replied, your heart racing.

"I hope we can do this again. Soon." He took your hand, his touch gentle but firm.

“I'd like that, Charles." You smiled, your heart swelling with happiness.

As he walked you back to his car, you felt a sense of warmth and belonging. Charles opened the door for you, and as you slid into the seat, you couldn't help but feel that this was just the beginning of something special.

The drive back to the Leclerc home was quiet, filled with comfortable silence. When you arrived, Charles walked you to the door, his hand lingering on yours for a moment longer than necessary.

"Goodnight, Y/N." He said, his voice filled with promise.

"Goodnight, Charles." You replied, your heart full.

As you watched him drive away, you felt a sense of joy and anticipation. The night had been perfect, a dream come true. And as you lay in bed, replaying every moment, you couldn't help but smile.

Waking up the next day you open your phone and find your social media accounts which are private and full of follow requests and DM requests. You’re so confused, before you open Twitter and see pictures of you and Charles last night on a the date everywhere. You groan and lean down in bed closing your eyes.

Charles is happy with himself, those paparazzi he leaked his date info to, did a good job, taking pictures in angles that made it look like you two were kissing at one point, and much closer than you were. Now everyone will know that you’re his. His plan is working, now what he has to do is get you to come stay at his house.

One evening you found yourself at a glamorous cocktail party, filled with drivers and Monaco's high society. You wore a stunning dress that hugged your curves in all the right places, leaving very little for the imagination. Many eyes looked your way when you passed. And of course, Charles was by your side, his arm firmly around your waist.

As you chatted with one of the drivers from F2, you felt Charles' grip tightening. His jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened. The driver complimented your dress, and you laughed lightly, thanking him, a slight blush covering your face. A blush that has always been meant for Charles only. Before you could continue, Charles interrupted.

"y/n, can I speak with you for a moment?" He said, his voice strained but polite. You excused yourself, following Charles to a quitter corner.

"What's wrong?" You asked, noticing the tension in his posture. Charles takes a deep breath, his eyes locking with yours, in an interlock that had you shivering.

"I don't like the way he was looking at you."

"He was just being friendly, Charlie, it's a party." You say looking up at him through your lashes, Charles just wants to pull you closer and crash his lips on you in a heated kiss.

His expression darkened further. "Friendly or not, I don’t want anyone looking at you like that."

The possessiveness in his voice sent a chill down your spine. "Charles, you’re overreacting. We’re just talking."

"I don’t care. You’re mine, Y/N.” He leaned in, his face inches from yours. “And I won’t have anyone thinking otherwise."

You opened your mouth to protest, but the intensity in his eyes silenced you. It wasn’t just about protectiveness. There was a dark edge to his possessiveness, something you hadn’t seen before.

“Okay.” YOu agree meekly, Charles kisses your cheek right next to your lips, and smiles oh so sweetly at you, lacing your hands together.

“Come stay with me.” You look up at him, surprised with your eyes wide.

”What?”

“Come stay with me, I want to spend as much time with you as I can before I have to get back to Marnello.” He looks at you pleading. “Pretty please.”

”Alright, might give Arthur free time to hang out with his other friends.” You say convincing yourself that it’s a good idea, you look at your best friend and see him talking with a woman by the bar. “Or someone else.” You say with a giggle, Charles sees Arthur and smile. Good, if Arthur finds and lady friend then that would give him more time to spend with you, this sis going better than he expected.

You moved in with Charles, you had the spare room. Charles tired to convince you to stay with him, but you wanted things to go slow. But more often than not, you fell asleep on the sofa while watching something together and Charles would put you in bed with him.

Most nights will end with you sipping on a drink he makes for you, always insisting that he just wants to spoil you, after a while you’d start feeling exhausted, and fall asleep.

The next mornings, you’d usually wake up in his bed, with him laying next to you, the times you woke up after him, you’d see him awake and watching you with a deep in thought look on his face, the moment he notice you’re awake he’d smile and press a kiss to your forehead.

"Good morning.” He said, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Morning." You replied groggily, a strange sense of comfort washing over you.

You were browsing through a quaint boutique downtown. Charles had suggested you update your wardrobe, and you were eager to please him. As you moved between the racks of clothing, you found yourself drawn to a beautiful blue sundress. It was light, airy, it’s something you’d usually buy without a second thought.

You held the dress up to yourself, admiring it in the mirror. It was perfect for the warm weather and would look great with the sandals Charles had bought you last week. But as you stood there, a familiar uncertainty crept in. Would Charles like it? Would he think it was appropriate?

You pulled out your phone and took a quick photo of yourself holding the dress. Your fingers hovered over the send button as you debated whether to ask him. The decision felt simple enough, yet you couldn't shake the need for his approval.

Finally, you texted him: "What do you think of this dress? Should I get it?"

You waited anxiously, your heart pounding. Within a few moments, your phone buzzed with his response: "It's pretty, but I think the neckline is a bit too low. How about looking for something else?"

You sighed, feeling a mix of disappointment and relief. Charles always knew what was best, you reminded yourself. You put the dress back on the rack and continued browsing, looking for something that fit his description of appropriate.

As you moved through the store, you picked up a simple white blouse and a pair of high-waisted jeans. They were nice, but they didn't make your heart sing like the sundress had. Still, you knew Charles would approve, and that was what mattered most.

Later that evening, you returned home with your purchases. Charles was waiting for you in the living room, his eyes lighting up as you walked in.

"Hey, how did the shopping go?" He asked, standing to greet you.

"It went well." You replied, holding up the blouse and jeans. "I found these. What do you think?"

He inspected the clothes, nodding with approval. "Good choices. They'll look great on you."

His praise filled you with warmth, and you felt a sense of accomplishment.

"Thanks. I'm glad you like them."

He pulled you into a hug, kissing your forehead. "I always want you to look your best. You know that, right?"

“I know. Thank you for helping me." You nodded, resting your head against his chest.

As you stood there, wrapped in his embrace, you realised just how much you had come to rely on his guidance. Even for something as simple as picking out a dress, his opinion was the deciding factor. It was comforting, in a way, to know that he was always there to help you make the right choices.

Gradually, your independence faded. Charles' influence seeped into every aspect of your life. You stopped wearing the dresses you loved, opting for the ones he chose. You stopped going out with friends, preferring to stay home with him. Your world narrowed to the confines of his desires, and you didn't even realise it was happening.

Before making any decision, you looked to Charles, waiting for his approval. If he nodded, you felt reassured; if he frowned, you felt anxious. Your happiness hinged on his reactions, your self-worth tied to his validation.

Charles marked you in other ways, too. He began leaving hickeys on your neck, a visible sign of his possession. "I want everyone to know you're mine." He would whisper, his voice both tender and possessive.

You accepted it, feeling a strange sense of pride in his attention. The marks he left were a symbol of his love, and you wore them like badges of honour. When people asked, you smiled and brushed it off.

But it wasn't just protection. Charles' control over you deepened, his possessiveness consuming him. You found yourself agreeing to everything he asked, trusting his judgement over your own. He convinced you that he knew what was best for you, and you believed him.

Charles made sure you stayed close. He monitored your phone, controlled your social interactions, and kept you under his watchful eye. You didn't see it as manipulation; you saw it as love. He was protecting you, caring for you, making sure you were safe.

As the months passed, you lost sight of who you were outside of Charles. Your dreams, your desires, your sense of self, all became secondary to his needs and wishes. You became a shadow of your former self, a puppet dancing to his tune.

But you didn't see it. You were blind to the darkness that had enveloped your life, the possessiveness that had taken root in Charles' heart. You were happy, in a way, content in the illusion of love and security he had created.

Charles had what he wanted: you, completely and utterly his. And you, in your innocence and naivety, believed it was exactly where you were meant to be.

Taglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house .

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pastryfication · 2 months ago

Note

Can you pls do an Oscar x driver reader fic where the reader is Landos sister and she has a pretty bad crash at a track and it’s Oscar and Landos reaction to her crash 🩷

this is more than anything i’ve felt before

pairings: oscar piastri x f2 driver!reader, lando norris x sister!reader content warnings: mentions of a crash and ambulance. note: i have such a hard time writing driver reader idk why but i hope you like this!! might be the only driver reader i’ll finish sorry to everyone else who’ve requested it it’s just so difficult for me to get it right.

the day it happens is one of those days where everything feels right—your lines are sharp, your pace is blistering, and every turn brings you closer to victory. you’re in control. you can feel the car, every bump, every shift, every breath you take inside that helmet.

you know lando and oscar are watching from the mclaren garage, their eyes glued to the screens. lando, your older brother, forever protective even when he tries not to be, always torn between pride and worry whenever you race. oscar, your boyfriend, the reigning king of calm on the track but never quite able to mask his nerves when it comes to you.

they’re your constants. you can almost picture lando’s anxious frown and oscar’s quiet focus, hands clasped together as he watches you drive. the media loves to joke about you being the apple of mclaren’s eye, caught between the team’s two golden boys. but those headlines don’t bother you. for you, this is where you belong.

as you approach the next corner, the race intensifies. there’s another driver fighting you for position, pushing you to the edge. you hold your line, confident and unafraid. but in an instant, it all goes wrong. the car beside you swerves just a touch too far, clipping your rear wheel.

everything spins out of control.

the car whips violently, tires screeching as you slam into the barriers. you feel the impact reverberate through your body, the jarring shock of metal against metal. the world around you blurs as the car crumples, and for a moment, everything fades.

———

oscar watches, heart pounding in his chest, as your car smashes into the barriers. the noise of the crash echoes in his ears, drowning out everything else. he doesn’t even hear the commentary, the frantic radio calls, or lando’s shout of your name beside him. all he can see is you, trapped in that twisted wreck, and you’re not moving.

oscar has seen crashes before—hell, he’s been in more than a few—but this is different. this isn’t just another driver, another car. it’s you. the girl who turns his world upside down, the one who’s always been his calm amid the chaos. and now you’re motionless, surrounded by smoke and broken carbon, and he’s never felt so terrified in his life.

beside him, lando’s pushing through the crowd, his face ashen, eyes wide with panic. “we have to get to her,” lando says, but his voice is shaking, the fear cracking through his usually steady tone.

oscar doesn’t move. he’s rooted to the spot, watching the screen like it’s his lifeline, praying for any sign that you’re okay. he feels sick, his stomach churning, every second that you’re not moving like a knife to his chest.

“she’ll be fine,” oscar whispers, more to himself than to lando. but the words sound hollow, and his voice wavers. because he doesn’t know. he doesn’t know if you’re okay, if you’re hurt, if you’re—

“i should’ve been there,” lando mutters, his voice thick with guilt. “i should’ve been able to protect her.”

oscar shakes his head, trying to keep himself together even though he feels like he’s breaking apart. he’s used to being the calm one, the steady presence on and off the track, but now he’s unraveling. it’s not just the crash—it’s the terrifying realization of how deeply you’ve entwined yourself into his heart, how much of his world revolves around you.

he thought he knew what it was to love you, but this feeling—this bone-deep fear, this raw, overwhelming need for you to be okay—is something else entirely. all he can think about is you—the way you laugh when you beat him in a stupid game, the way you scrunch your nose when you’re deep in thought, the way you find his hand after every race, holding on like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

he’s always known he loves you. but this? this is more than love. it’s a kind of need that’s woven into his very being, and it’s terrifying, how much losing you even for a moment rips through him, leaving him hollow.

when the medics reach you, they work fast, extracting you from the mangled car with careful precision. oscar’s eyes are fixed on you, his chest tightening with every second that you’re unresponsive. the ambulance arrives, and they load you onto a stretcher, still no movement, no sign of you waking up.

“please, please, please,” oscar whispers, his voice cracking. he doesn’t care about the cameras capturing every moment of his raw fear. all he cares about is you, and he’s never felt more powerless.

lando’s shoulders slump, his hands shaking as he stares at the ground. he looks at oscar, and for once, they’re not just teammates or rivals—they’re two people who love you, and right now, that’s all that matters.

minutes feel like hours. oscar’s world narrows down to the screen, to the updates that aren’t coming fast enough, to the endless questions that nobody seems to have answers for. finally, lando’s phone buzzes. oscar watches as lando answers, the tension etched into every line of his face.

“she’s awake,” lando says, his voice thick with relief, tears shining in his eyes. “she’s bruised up, but she’s awake. they’re taking her for checks, but she’s okay.”

oscar lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and without thinking, he pulls lando into a hug. they cling to each other, relief and fear and everything else pouring out as they try to steady themselves. it’s messy and raw, but they need it. they need to feel that you’re going to be okay.

oscar pulls back, wiping at his eyes and trying to find the words. he’s never been good at this—at showing how much he cares, at letting himself be vulnerable. but he knows one thing for sure: he’s never letting you go without making sure you know just how deeply he loves you.

as the ambulance speeds away, oscar watches, feeling that familiar surge of love and fear. you’re tough—tougher than anyone gives you credit for—and you’re going to be back. you’re going to be alright.

and when you are, he’s going to be right there, holding onto you just a little bit tighter, because you’re everything to him.

for now, though, all that matters is that you’re still here, still fighting. mclaren’s favourite girl, his heart’s safe place. you’re the reason he races, the reason he loves, and the person he’s willing to hold onto with everything he has.

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ladybyakuya · 2 months ago

Text

| ALL I WANTED + GOJO SATORU .

+cw. — female!wife!reader x clan-head!husband!(sub)!gojo satoru, arrange marriage, hurt, angst, canon typical elements, smut, f!masturbation + m!masturbation & orgasm interruption.

+wc. — 2.3k

+syn.— satoru comes home from a bunch of missions only to find his wife in their shared bedroom not wanting him, or waiting for him but busy seeking pleasure that was his share to pour into you.

+notes. — special thanks to @gojoest for hyping me up with this idea. & thanks to @sugurouge for beta reading otherwise this never get posted lol | redirect to blog navigation.

The current head of the clan you belong to, your father stands facing his back to you. He is now the housemaster, not your father. “You’re going to be married,” said he, as his palms remained tightly clasped at his back while he looked out through the window. What you once called home became a distant memory in an instant. “You’re going to be married—” as his face turned towards you, “to Gojo Satoru.” you could figure out why he was looking away. “That monster!” he screams tears streaming down his face as his lips tremble in rage and disbelief; how of all people did the marriage broker who has been his friend for a long time have even agreed with such a decision? The thought of him suggesting the idea to the council does not even cross your father’s mind. How utterly naive! a low grunt followed as your father swatted away his chair knocking it down to the ground before killing every bit of hope you had despite the rumors. “This marriage. . . it is nothing but a hopeless dream. ”

Yes! You knew that already. The housemaids and staff just love to gossip about the doom of their sole source of bread and butter. The moment your father summoned you into his study room and told you the news while staring at the greenery of the garden of this mansion you knew your life was going to turn upside down and it did, just like you expected yet you were still disappointed, frustrated even when you came back to your room.

Satoru Gojo is the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in history ever known since Sukuna Ryomen was sealed. No other name has ever made it to the pages of jujutsu history. He is at the top of the jujutsu society regarding status, power, fame, and money. So, what do you do with the strongest of all? worship them out of devotion? subdue them with offerings lest it might lash out? swearing loyalty out of fear? Those were the thoughts that stemmed at the back of your mind when you first came to know about the fact that you were going to be the wife of the Gojo Satoru from a maid whose life never even crossed the threshold of your home. Her world was limited to the mossy parts of the mansion you resided in. Still, she could tell what kind of marriage you would be walking into.

Nothing shocking happened even on the night of your wedding. It was just as you anticipated. Two different futons were kept side by side. There was no sharing of words, glances, or kakebuton . Just both of your backs faced each other. At dawn, you woke up with your wedding kimono intact, a stainless white futon, and an empty room without Gojo.

The maids here knew better than to talk about it, even behind your back. They were aware of the power and status you held and that made everything a lot worse than you expected it to be. You had access to a lot of things, the family history archives, the financial sources, his previous missions— everything tied to him. Your husband, Gojo Satoru, was the clan head as well as the master of this mansion so there were no elderly people pushing responsibilities onto your shoulders like back at home. There was a sense of serenity in the air but how could you breathe it in for the rest of your life?

Satoru Gojo was the kind of man whom one could easily desire. Despite being his wife and the future mother of his children, trying to love him felt like a cyanide for you. You wanted your husband, not some Satoru Gojo oozing with knowledge and power. You wanted to look him in the eye, not just his back which you barely get a glimpse of at the crack of dawn as he occupies the sad side of the bed under a separate duvet. In earlier stages of this marriage, there was no curtain separating you and your husband’s side of the bed but after a month of utter silence and stealing glances, the first thing he installed was a curtain in the shared canopy bed. If he needed some privacy he could easily ask you to shift into another room but he bothered to talk one of those clan servants to install a fucking curtain as if the silence was not enough of a gulf in between you two.

Sometimes you thought that he was cheating on you but you always pushed it under the rug telling yourself, “You’re the wife of Satoru Gojo. No one can take that from you unless you walk out of this marriage. Not your father. Not that marriage broker —”

— Not even Gojo Satoru himself because he only married you to silence those nosy elders of his clan who pretend to be oh-so-worried for him. You were not foreign to that concept, after all, you are wrapped in the same shroud for all your life.

“You’re the wife of Gojo Satoru . . .No one . . .”

“You’re the wife of Gojo Satoru . . .”

“You’re the wife . . .”

“You’re . . .”

But the thought of getting his dick sucked by some other woman or man, or him putting his dick into someone — it filled you with too much anger to sleep in bed that night. For the first time, you miss home because there you are free to go anywhere even at night.

Satoru came home early that night, which was odd for his schedule, and was greeted with an empty bed after a long while. The sky is yet to be cracked open by sunlight. It is still too dark to be wandering around. Where could his wife have been gone to at this hour? He takes a spoonful of strawberry ice cream from the giant tub he held in his other hand before starting to look for you. But where should he look first? He does not know anything except the fact that he had put veils in different places of his house just to keep this house free of low-energy cursed spirits. Those veils sure did their job well but sometimes they would keep out non-sorcerers, people like you. His heart rejoices at the thought that he has to look for you in places only he is aware of, which means this is going to take a little less time, and he will find you much faster. Come to think of it, he has not been in the library section for a while but it is still as spotless as the first day he came here. Have you been visiting? Man! That sure worries him.

The pink layer of the tub has come down to half along with its skin being wet while the spoon is still experiencing the fierce appetite that Satoru had for anything sweet. He stands at the entrance of a long hallway before checking, thinking that this is the last place he has to look for but could it be possible that you were embarrassed enough to go back to your home?

Ahh…ahhh!

The spoon hits the wooden floor with a dull clatter as a wretched realization comes crashing down through his veins. Have you been cheating on him all this time? In his house? With some lowly servant ? Well, that sure makes it easier to end this sham of a marriage. He opens the door of a certain archive room as swiftly as possible trying to minimize the sound of his presence, making sure he does not shock you awake from your rendezvous. He is determined to catch you red-handed but when he opens the door he witnesses something that could have knocked the lights off his brain if he were not one of the greatest sorcerers of his time. The sight was not something of a fair appetite for ordinary people yet you sat by the marble slab of the giant window, with one of your arms nuked under your sapphire jinbei in between your legs as your skin glowed under that pale moonlight as if diamonds and pearls were embedded on your skin.

You were sweating, arching your body, moaning and all your husband could do was watch in awe. Your free hand travels from the bottom of your cleavage and up to the apex of your nape as you turn your head opening your eyes for a brief moment. You see the world so blurred that it spikes your approaching high, but as you open your eyes for the second time your high is gone like it never existed. Your husband, Gojo Satoru stood before you like an ivory statue of certain abandoned ruined cathedrals. The dress covers most of your body so a wave of relief washes over him despite realizing how dangerous the spot you chose . . .to . . .umh. . . pleasure yourself .

How long? How long was he watching you ? You shift your body to face him, and your hand slowly emerges from the warmth between your thighs. Satoru tries to ignore but traces of your arousal and his yearning are flourishing like fluorescence on your fingers as it rests on your thigh. You watch him gulp. Suddenly, Gojo Satoru is out of words. Teacher to his students of Jujutsu High, the strongest sorcerer, Nanami’s certified yapper is suddenly out of words. The slight slice of your boobs visible through your robe does not help either in the coherency of his thoughts. He had plans. He had plans to walk out of this marriage without being tainted as a “cheater” because the jujutsu society is so fucked up that they will not stop until they found this particular person that had made this marriage impossible to work on so that you, the wife, had to walk out it and dear God, they certainly are not fond of obstructions.

“What a nice place you chose to—” he finally looks away to keep the tub of semi-molten room-temperature strawberry ice cream on some bookshelf but before he could shift back his gaze on you again you were gone like a storm. The sound of your footsteps echoed in his ear till it stopped before he heard the click of a door. He does not understand if you are just too dumb or too brave to act the way you are acting right now. He follows you as a grunt of dismissal escapes from his chest. As he stands in front of the bathroom door he drowns yet again in utmost disbelief. He can still hear your shrill gasp of pleasure and he is not liking how his cock is responsive to it. At first, he hesitates to touch himself but the faint sound of your moans, the wet squelching sounds of your fingers moving in and out of your damp folds despite the door of the bathroom being locked buzzes in his ears like bees out in the hunt of honey.

Satoru gave up . You hear a thud as you continue to finger yourself knowing full well that your husband must have followed you all the way here after witnessing you in such a state. Indeed, you could have been accused of cheating on him without him checking the door and it would have been much worse. He sits against the bathroom door unfurling the black ribbon with a swish to take his cock out of his baggy white pants. The tip is already leaking. His cock is throbbing in his palm as he encapsulates his fingers around it, moving his fingers up and down slowly. On the other side of the door, as you could finally feel the pinnacle of your high you heard a soft groan; a pain, that seemed familiar, was palpable underneath that shrill cry of pleasure. Still when your fingers touched the part inside you that almost felt like unknotting something from inside you, at the basal of your navel Satoru’s hand moved faster to chase the similar high that had started to bubble in his body under the influence of your ripples of pleasure. You heard your husband moan as tears rolled down your cheeks when you closed your eyes feeling the knot finally unwinding.

Perhaps, both of you came simultaneously. Perhaps not, because you immediately opened the door after you had calmed from your high, only to be greeted with Satoru sitting right at the opposite wall of the bathroom door, legs folded in L-manner so that he could keep his hand over his knee. His cock is still visible through his white pants and it is still so hard. One of your eyebrows raises in silent reply . Satoru notices that. He looks at you and then looks away. You extend your hand towards his face, gaining his stern azure pair of eyes shining against whatever dim light the crack of the bathroom door could allow. There was no sign of resistance in him so as your palm touched his cheeks, you waited and gave him time to protest. yet none ever followed, instead, he surrendered to your touch, and your fingers curled under his chin as you ran your thumb over his lips. Satoru coiled against your touch imbibing as much as he could like a tide being high enough to touch the moon . . .a familiar voice shocked both of you awake.

“Lady Gojo. . .”

649 notes · View notes

ashwhowrites · 6 months ago

Note

Hi, love your work.

I was thinking a maybe a break up and make up fic with:

Angst Prompt 31. “You broke me! You ruined everything we had and- for what?”

Fluff prompt 7. “You’re the only person I want to spend my life with”

With Eddie Munson/Y/N Henderson or Y/N Wheeler. A sister from one of the main party.

Eddie and Y/N have been together before season 1. Season 1 happens, Y/N was there. Resulting in her getting closer to Steve or Jonathan, to which Eddie thinks Y/N is cheating on him. Even catches Steve/Jonathan comforting Y/N and gets the wrong idea. They break up. The younger brother of Y/N tells Eddie off and makes him rethink things. Leading to them getting back together.

Thank you so much! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Friends? Or something else?

Y/N Wheeler was quite different from her sister, Nancy. Nancy liked the boy next door vibe, and Y/N liked the rebel bad boy. Y/N didn't see what Nancy ever saw in Steve in the beginning. But he turned out to be a sweet guy when Nancy stomped on his heart.

She felt bad for Steve, but Y/N wanted to spend her free time with Eddie. It was no shock that the two fell for each other. Eddie was exactly her type, the leather, the attitude, and the nasty mouth he kissed her with.

Anyone could see she was smitten with the boy. She kissed the ground he walked on. She would do anything he asked, and do it happily.

It was a shame all he did was doubt her love for him

~~~

Eddie and Steve didn't really get along. Back when Nancy and Steve were together, the sisters loved double dates.

As Y/N fed Eddie fries and shared chocolate milkshakes, Nancy and Steve would argue across from them. Half of their double dates ended with Eddie and Y/N sneaking off.

Eddie didn't like the way Steve carried himself. He thought he was so superior compared to the rest of them and that didn't sit well with Eddie. And Y/N thought the same. She hated the way he treated Eddie.

Y/N just couldn't get along with Steve.

Until Nancy broke up with him and he finally showed his true self.

She couldn't lie. She felt bad for Steve. He showed up to their house with flowers but Nancy was already out with friends. Y/N couldn't leave him outside and alone. She let him in and before she knew it she was comforting him.

He cried into her arms as he talked about how Nancy was all he had left.

"I'll be here for you, I promise."

And she meant it. Whenever Steve called, she listened to what he had to say. Nancy was a little bothered at first. She found it weird her ex-boyfriend was using her little sister as a shoulder. But then Steve began to change, in a way Nancy thought wasn't possible.

The friendship helped Steve and Nancy accept that. It even helped get them back on normal speaking terms.

Eddie hated it, though. He hated having Y/N in his lap, rocking her hips against his. His tongue battled hers as the music played through his shitty speakers.

"Wheeler, call for Wheeler."

Steve's voice cut through the moment like a knife. The static voice worked its way through the talkie and Y/N pulled back.

"One second," she whispered.

Eddie felt his stomach turn as she grabbed the talkie and went outside. He wanted to trust her, he so badly did. But it was so hard when she'd always leave the room to talk to him. Why can't she talk to him in front of her boyfriend? It meant she was hiding something.

She had to be cheating on him.

And the thought of it broke his heart.

The one time he was in love, she found someone else.

What Eddie didn't know was that Steve and Y/N found themselves thrown into some type of supernatural portal. Something called the upside down? She wasn't quite sure what it all meant yet, but all she knew was that she and Steve fought hand in hand for months on end.

The world seemed to be back to normal and they wanted to keep it that way. She didn't want Eddie to get dragged into all of it. She'd never forgive herself if something happened to him. So she demanded every single one in the gang keep what happened a secret.

It was sworn that Eddie never found out what happened a few months back.

As a result of being at war with Steve, meant their friendship grew so strong that they truly became best friends. They leaned on each other when they needed it the most.

Eddie didn't understand how one minute she hated Steve and the next, she ran the second he called. He knew something happened between them. He tried to piece together a timeline, but he drew blanks.

She bounced back into the trailer with an apologetic smile on her face.

"Steve needs to talk some stuff out. He got in a fight with his dad. Can we raincheck the movie?" she asked

Eddie fought the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn't surprised.

"Sure thing," Eddie smiled. He was good at pretending that nothing was wrong. So well that she had no idea she was ruining their relationship the more she picked Steve.

~~~

"Do you think you'll come to the hideout tonight?" Eddie asked as he wrapped his arms around Y/N. Her back to his chest as she crammed books in her locker.

His lips kissed her neck as he swayed them back and forth.

"Ew, get a room." Nancy gagged, but a smile on her face. Nancy loved seeing her sister in love. She was the main reason Nancy ended things with Steve.

Nancy wanted what Y/N and Eddie had, and she didn't feel like she did with Steve.

"Um, I'm sorry but I don't think I can." Y/N cringed as Eddie's touch was gone in a second.

Nancy sensed the air change and quickly left them alone. Nancy knew tonight was a meeting with the gang, they were worried the upside down was opening again. But Eddie couldn't know.

"Don't even tell me it's because you'll be with Steve." Eddie snapped.

Y/N felt nervous to turn around. She gulped as she turned around, that same apologetic look in her eyes.

"Why now? Can he just go to fucking therapy and stop using my girlfriend?"

"Eds, be nice," she tried, but she could tell by the look on his face that he was strongly irritated.

"What's wrong?" she asked, she reached to wrap her arms around his neck. She didn't hide the pain she felt when he backed away.

"What's wrong? What's wrong is that my girlfriend doesn't seem to give a shit that I exist." Eddie spat, he wanted to keep his anger in check but he couldn't help but sound pissed.

"Of course I do! Tonight I just had prior plans."

"Cancel and come with me," Eddie said, his voice soft as he grabbed her hand. He turned his puppy eyes to her as he begged.

"I can't cancel, Eds." She sighed sadly

The anger washed up as quickly as it washed away.

He dropped her hand like it burned. Her hand was dead against her side as it dangled.

"Why not?" he challenged

"They all need me, baby," she said softly

Eddie shook his head and chuckled darkly.

"They do or Steve does?"

"Eddie, you know it's not like that, right?" She said, her heart broke as she watched the insecurity flash across his face. Had he been upset about Steve all this time? Was she a horrible girlfriend for not noticing?

"Just sometimes I need my girlfriend too," he said sadly, then walked off.

"Eddie, no wait," she said, she grabbed his hand. She felt her throat close up as he sniffled.

"Forget it. I'll tell you about the show whenever I see you."

"Eddie, please. I'm sorry." she tried, she wanted to tell him the truth but she couldn't.

"I know, I'll see you later," he said, his mouth in a tight line as he walked away.

Y/N couldn't focus during the meeting. Her brain focused on the little fight with Eddie. Had she been neglecting him? She would never intentionally hurt him and she hated that she still did.

Steve was listening to Dustin when he heard sniffles. He looked beside him and watched as Y/N silently cried. Her head down as she used her shirt to catch the tears.

"You okay?" Steve whispered in her ear

"Course," she said, putting on a fake smile as she looked at him

But looking at Steve made her think of Eddie. And thinking of Eddie caused a loud sob to escape.

The gang all looked in her direction. Nancy and Mike watched with concern as she stood up.

"Sorry, need a minute." she apologized, she raced up the stairs and closed the basement door behind her.

She dropped her body on the front step and let the sobs take over her body. She cried into her hands as the afternoon played through her head on an endless loop.

Steve followed behind her, he sat next to her and he wrapped his arms around her. She turned her body into his and sobbed. Her wet tears soaked his shirt as she sobbed.

"What is going on?" he whispered, he gently rubbed her back as she tried to get ahold of herself.

She told him everything that happened, Steve felt a puddle of guilt in his stomach. He pulled her away, it was his fault Eddie was upset.

They were lost in their own world, no idea that as Steve placed a comforting kiss on her forehead Eddie was in the driveway.

Eddie's heavy feet stomped towards them. They jumped apart hearing his boots crunch the sticks below.

Steve stood up and held his hands in defense

"Munson, I swear it-" but he didn't get to finish his sentence.

Eddie went at him, a huge right punch connected straight against Steve's eye. Steve crumbled to the grass instantly as he held his eye.

"EDDIE!" Y/N gasped, she quickly jumped in front of Steve as Eddie went to charge forward.

"Not like that right?" Eddie spat, his voice filled with venom as he shot her words right back at her.

"Eddie," Steve groaned as he stood up. He looked at Eddie with one eye, holding the bruising one. "It's not what you think, I swear."

"I don't give a single fuck about what you have to say" Eddie hissed as he pointed at Steve over Y/N's shoulder.

"Steve, can you give us a second?" Y/N asked, but her eyes never left Eddie.

Once she heard the front door shut, she took a deep breath.

"How could you do this to me?" Eddie asked, his voice cracked as the first round of tears fell down his face. "We were so in love. You used to love me so much. You used to never leave my side and now? Now I can barely remember the last time we even had sex."

"Oh Eddie," she whimpered as she stepped forward and held his face in her hands. She cried seeing him cry. "We are in love! I still love you. I love you more and more every day. I'm sorry I've gotten so caught up with Steve but I promise you it is not because I have feelings for him. I didn't know you were missing me so much."

"How could you know? You won't see me for more than ten minutes." he snapped, he grabbed her hands and shoved them off of his face. She tried to ignore the drop of her heart.

"You're right. I am so sorry. Talk to me, let's talk it out."

"I don't think I even want to anymore," he confessed. YN shook her head as she panicked.

"No, baby, You can do it, just tell me what you are feeling, please," she begged, she fought hard not to touch him. All she wanted was to wrap her arms around him but she couldn't tell if he wanted her to touch him.

"You broke me! You ruined everything we had and- for what?" Eddie said, he lashed out as his tears turned into anger. His voice rose. "For Steve? I mean how could you even do this to Nancy?"

"She doesn't care because she knows we are just friends!" Y/N argued. "Like I've told you! There is nothing between him and I."

"YOU AND I USED TO BE FRIENDS, SHIT CHANGES Y/N!" he screamed, no doubt letting the neighbors know a fight was breaking out

"That's different." she cried, tears falling down her face.

"HOW?" he screamed as he stepped closer. Right in her face as he demanded his answer.

"BECAUSE I WAS ALREADY IN LOVE WITH YOU, ASSHOLE. I KNEW I LOVED YOU AND I HAD TO PRETEND I DIDN'T BECAUSE I DIDN'T WANT TO LOSE YOU AS A FRIEND. THAT IS WHY IT IS DIFFERENT. I'VE NEVER WANTED TO KISS STEVE OR WONDERED WHAT HE TASTED LIKE. IT'S ALWAYS BEEN YOU!" she cried, it hurt to have him so close and not touch him. She wanted to have the right words to say.

"Then why has it only been Steve, lately?" Eddie asked, breaking down as the words left his tongue. More tears fell as he looked into her eyes. He used to see through her, but something happened and her eyes never told him the truth anymore.

"I can't tell you because it would kill me if you got hurt because of me." She watched as he nodded and choked back his tears. His red eyes looked into hers.

"You've been hurting me for months, and you are still breathing," her heart shattered as he began to step back, "Steve or not, it's clear you don't have the time for me. Take me off that full plate you have."

"Eddie, please don't" she sobbed as he kept stepping back. With each step he took, she made that step forward.

"If you ever truly loved me, you'll let me heal from you. I don't deserve to feel second best by my own girlfriend."

With those words, she stopped. She planted her feet in the grass as he turned around. She covered her mouth as he got in his van. Before he closed the door, she yelled his name.

He looked over at her

"I need you to know that I'm doing what you asked. I'll leave you alone and give you the space you need because it'll prove that I love you. Even if it kills me to never be with you again."

She watched as he didn't say a word, just closing his door and taking off down the road.

~~~

Mike had seen both his sisters experience breakups, but nothing as bad as Y/N.

It's been a week since the breakup, and Y/N barely leaves her room. She came out to use the bathroom, sometimes she'd sit in the kitchen and stare at the phone. She'd pray that he would call, but she knew he wouldn't. After a few hours, she'd go right back up to her room.

"Poor girl. I've never seen her so heartbroken." Karen said as she sat down at the dinner table. "Has she done any of the schoolwork she missed?"

"Barely, I've turned in a few of her assignments." Nancy said, "She won't even talk to me about it."

"Shame on that boy for hurting her," Karen said as she shook her head, "I wish I could smack some sense into him."

His mom's words gave Mike an idea.

The next morning Mike biked to Eddie's trailer. It was a Saturday morning so he knew Eddie would be rotting in bed.

He was done seeing his sister lose herself

and he was done with Eddie's cranky ass during Hellfire.

He threw his bike into the dirt as he raced up to Eddie's trailer. He pounded on the door.

"Wheeler?" Eddie said confused, his eyes half open as he yawned.

"We need to talk," Mike snapped, letting himself in the trailer and sitting on the couch.

"Great, another fight with a wheeler," Eddie mumbled to himself.

"What can I help you with?" Eddie asked as he stood.

"Why does it look like you are sleeping on the couch?" Mike asked with sass as he pushed the bundle of blankets out of his way. "Bedroom reeks of all the random girls you've been sleeping with?" he hissed.

"Woah, little Wheeler. What I do in my bedroom is none of your business. What makes you think I'm sleeping with random girls? Is that how your sister is dealing with the breakup?" Eddie asked, he couldn't help but get mad at his own words.

"Oh shut your mouth," Mike snapped, "my sister isn't this whore you claim her to be."

"I know, that was uncalled for," Eddie said, "how...how is she?" he couldn't help but ask. It had been eating him up all week. He hadn't seen her once, hadn't heard her voice, and it killed him. He had no idea if she was breaking apart or completely fine with Eddie gone.

"Answer my question first," Mike demanded, he got off the couch and walked to Eddie's room. If there was a girl in there, Mike swore he'd kill Eddie before the upside-down had the chance.

"WHEELER!" Eddie yelled but Mike carried on. He flew Eddie's door open. And it was empty. The bed set is perfectly made, with a flower on the pillow with a note attached.

"And what slut is this for? Moving on already?" Mike snapped. He reached forward and grabbed the note.

"Give me that!" Eddie snapped back, snatching the note from his hands. "I'm not sleeping with anyone, okay? I haven't been in here since the breakup. She made my bed that morning and wrote me a note, and this was the first flower someone had given me. I just wanted to leave everything the way she touched it." Eddie explained. The room held too many memories, and it smelled of her.

"Can we talk in the living room?"

Mike nodded, knowing not to push Eddie further.

They walked back into the living room as Eddie closed his bedroom door. Eddie took a seat next to Mike.

"She's heartbroken," Mike said, Eddie looked over at him. "She doesn't eat, barely sleeps, and stares at the phone the second school ends until she knows you are asleep. She's miserable and it's all your fault!" Mike said, pissed at Eddie for hurting his sister. Mike stood up so he could tower over Eddie, by a little.

"You broke her and you better fix it!"

"I didn't do anything, Mike. You are too young to understand, but our relationship wasn't the same." Eddie sighed. He did feel awful hearing about how bad she was doing. Guilt in his bones as he pictured her staring at the phone.

There were so many times he wanted to call. At one point he didn't care if she ever had feelings for Steve, he wanted to be with her anyway. He'd watch her kiss Steve a thousand times if she still picked Eddie to come home to.

"I might be young, but I'm not an idiot. Steve never liked her, he is still hung up on Nancy. And Y/N never liked Steve more than a friend. Hell, she barely understood what Nancy saw in him because he wasn't you. She is so in love with you that you are literally the only guy she sees worthy. I don't blame you for wanting to protect yourself. But she has been killing herself to protect you."

"But I don't understand why she can't tell me! We've been in a relationship for over a year, and she still has these secrets!" Eddie argued.

"It's not her secret to tell! It's mine, okay?" Mike said, Eddie looked at him confused. "What I'm about to tell you is going to sound insane. But you have to believe me. It'll explain why Y/N thought it would protect you to keep you out of it."

Eddie sat and listened as Mike explained what happened over the past year. The upside down and the battles. How Y/N and Steve got thrown together and they could only turn to each other because of it. But it all made sense. She kept promising she couldn't tell because if he got hurt, it would kill her. Because if Eddie got hurt, he wouldn't survive.

~~~

Eddie waited a day before he picked up the phone. He felt nervous as he dialed the number he knew by heart.

It rang for a second before a voice appeared on the other end

"Hello, Y/N speaking,"

Eddie closed his eyes at the sadness in her voice.

"Hey, darling. It's, uh me, Eddie." He stuttered out

"I knew it was you by the first word," she laughed sadly. She hated how hard it seemed to talk to him. Like she didn't know what to say.

"Right," he chuckled, "I was hoping we could talk? Maybe better in person?" He drummed his hands against the wall as he heard her breathing heavily through the phone.

"Yeah, um when and where?" Her voice cracked as she blinked back her tears. This was the final moment, he wanted to break it off officially. She gave him his space and he was ready for it to be forever.

"Please don't cry, sweetheart." He begged, choking up himself as he listened to her.

"I'm fine!" She lied, "Just tell me when and where."

"My place and the sooner the better."

He clenched his eyes in pain as she whimpered and let out a soft okay before the phone went dead.

She drove over to his trailer, unable to keep the tears back.

She was scared to see him again. She barely kept it together hearing his voice again. She didn't want to cry when she saw him, but it was all she had been doing for the past week.

Eddie was against his trailer smoking a cigarette when she pulled up. She took another deep breath as she turned off the car. Even having that small glimpse sent her head into a spiral.

Eddie smashed his cigarette as she walked up to him. She wore one of his old hoodies, and a pair of sweats she stole after their first movie date. Her eyes were majority swollen and red. Her nose was red as she rubbed it with his sleeve.

"Hi, sweets" Eddie cooed, as he opened his arms. Within seconds her body crashed into his as she wrapped her arms around him. He wrapped his arms around her. He rested his chin on her head, inhaling her scent. He kissed her head, and every painful feeling in his body melted away.

She sobbed as she inhaled his clothes. All she wanted was to be with him again, and she was. She kept squeezing him tighter, hoping he'd feel closer.

"Don't cry, my love," he said into her hair, rubbing her back.

"I missed you so much," she sobbed, "it was so hard to give you the space you wanted."

"I missed you too, baby girl. I'm so sorry I made you give me space. I'm so sorry for the mess I made since I didn't communicate when I should have. Let's go inside." He let go of her body but laced his hand with hers as they walked into the trailer. Eddie led her to his room, he opened the door and closed it behind him. She refused to let go of his hand, but he didn't ask her to.

She wasn't sure how long she'd have before he wanted space again. He sat beside her as she looked around his room. She noticed it was the same as a week ago, but she didn't say anything.

instead of sitting next to her, he dropped to his knees and rested his head on her lap. She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair, she scratched his head in the way he loves.

"I'm sorry for fucking this up. I should have trusted you, I'm sorry I didn't. I thought I needed space, but all it did was make me miss you." He melted into her touch as her fingers continued to run through his hair. "I'm so in love with you. I wasn't used to sharing you and I felt like I was losing you." His puppy eyes looked up at her as he sat up on his knees.

He laced his hands with hers and rested them on her lap

"I'm sorry for not realizing how much I was hurting you. You are the only boy I'd ever want. I love you and that won't ever change." She said she unlaced their hands so she could cup his face. Her thumbs rubbed his wet cheeks as she leaned in and placed her lips on his.

Eddie wrapped his arms around her waist, his palms resting on her back as he kissed her back. Eddie straightened himself as he deepened the kiss. He kept his lips on hers as he pushed her back and stood up. Her back was against his mattress as he climbed on top of her. The kiss grew more intense and hungry as her hands moved to his stomach. His right hand rested on her cheek, he moaned as he slipped his tongue inside her mouth.

The kiss sent goosebumps rising on her skin. The feelings she felt when she kissed Eddie never went away, it was always butterflies and needing more.

Eddie pulled away for air, his eyes soaking her in. She was slow to open her eyes but when she did she was staring into Eddie's.

“You’re the only person I want to spend my life with” she whispered

"Just like the note said." he smiled

"Just like the note said," she laughed. Already missing his lips, she placed her hand on the back of his neck and brought his lips to hers. She frowned when Eddie pulled back a little, not letting their lips meet.

"Before I get carried away with you," Eddie winked, she blushed and bit her lip. "Will you be my girl again?"

"I never stopped,"

Eddie smiled and smashed his lips back on hers. They hungrily touched each other, showing how much they missed it and never wanted space again.

Tags!

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#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x wheeler! reader #ashwhowrites

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fvsm4x · 10 months ago

Text

☆FIRST LOVE [Gojo Satoru]

☆ SUMMARY: Months have passed since you slept with Gojo. And during that time, gojo seemed to avoid you, hurting your feelings in exchange without knowing.

— C.W: Gojo Satoru x female reader , angst to fluff

— WORD COUNT: 2k+

— TAGLIST: @starlightanyaaa @froufrousnowman @101strawberries101 @dazaisfavgf @the-lazy-perfectionist @prettyfacedream

JJK MLIST | GOJO SATORU MLIST

It has been a considerable amount of time since the last interaction you had with Gojo. Days turned into weeks, and then a whole month passed by. And now, two months have gone by since that unforgettable night when the two of you shared an intimate connection after getting a little too tipsy in a bar.

However, ever since that night, something changed. Gojo started to distance himself from you, avoiding any kind of interaction and making a conscious effort to stay out of your way. It's as if he's intentionally ignoring your presence, and any attempts to reach out to him through calls or texts are met with silence, with the messages sitting in the "delivered" status but never being read.

The pain in your heart is almost unbearable. You find yourself constantly questioning what went wrong, racking your brain for any possible misstep or disappointment that could have caused this sudden shift in Gojo's behavior. The thought that the night you shared was a mistake weighs heavily on your mind, causing immense emotional distress and self-doubt.

What makes this pain even more agonizing is the fact that you have harbored deep feelings for Gojo since your teenage years. From the moment you first laid eyes on him, there was an undeniable attraction and admiration that only grew stronger with time. The realization that he may not feel the same way about you is a devastating blow to your heart and soul.

But you find it difficult to place the blame solely on Gojo. After all, he is not just an ordinary person. In the world of jujutsu sorcerers, he holds immense importance and influence. He is widely recognized as the strongest sorcerer, possessing unparalleled strength and abilities. Not only that, but he has been blessed with not just one, but two curse techniques, making him a force to be reckoned with. His very existence has the power to shift the delicate balance of the world.

In contrast, you see yourself as someone insignificant in comparison. While you do possess the ability to see curses, just like Gojo, you feel like a mere observer in the grand tapestry of the jujutsu world. You don't hold any significant position or power, and you struggle to find a sense of usefulness or importance in comparison to someone like Gojo.

But little did you know, gojo had a reason for doing so.

Ever since that night you two shared, gojo started to harbor feelings, he had never felt before, it felt weird. As if butterflies were flying around in his stomach and his heart always skipping a beat when he sees you.

The mere thought of you brought a deep blush to his cheeks, and he couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and nervousness whenever he was in your presence. It was as if his entire world had been turned upside down, and he couldn't quite comprehend the intensity of these newfound emotions.

He had never experienced this kind of feeling before, and he couldn't quite put his finger on what it was. It was a strange sensation that consumed him, making him feel like he was on the verge of death if he didn't see you. Thinking he might be sick, he sought out Shoko and poured out his troubles to her.

Sitting in front of Shoko, who calmly sipped her warm coffee, he couldn't contain his panic any longer. "Shoko, I think something's wrong with me. I feel like I'm dying!" he exclaimed, jumping up from his chair and pacing back and forth in the room.

"The mighty Gojo Satoru is sick? That's a first," she joked, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. It was rare to see the strongest sorcerer in such a state of distress.

"I'm serious, Shoko! Every time I see her, I feel strange... My face turns red, my stomach does somersaults, and my heart skips a beat!" he whined, desperation evident in his voice. "Am I going to die, Shoko?"

Shoko looked at him with wide eyes, taking a moment to process his words before asking, "Do you mean y/n?"

Gojo nodded, his expression filled with worry. "Yeah..."

Setting her coffee down on a nearby table, Shoko turned to Gojo with a mischievous smirk. "Oh no! You‘re going to die satoru." she sarcastically exclaimed.

Gojo's eyes dropped immediately as his panic intensified. "What? But I can't die yet... I'm still young."

Narrowing her eyes at him, Shoko chuckled softly. Gojo approached her, placing his hands on either side of her, trapping her against the chair. "Why are you laughing?!" he shouted, his grip on the chair tightening.

"Do you want to know the name of your sickness, Satoru?" Shoko asked, leaning against her palm.

"Of course!" he replied eagerly.

"You're lovesick," she stated matter-of-factly.

Gojo's eyes widened at her words. Lovesick? Did that mean he was in love with you? The mere thought of it caused his face to flush a deep shade of red. "W-what!? No, I'm not in love with her," he denied, his voice wavering.

"Look at you, all embarrassed... I can't believe the all-mighty Gojo Satoru has finally fallen in love," Shoko sighed. "I feel bad for y/n."

"What am I supposed to do?! I've never been in love before," Gojo whined, his distress evident.

"Well, talk to her more often, take her out on dates... I don't know much about love, I've never experienced it myself, who knows maybe she‘s feeling the same." Shoko suggested.

"But... I've been ignoring her for the past two months," Gojo confessed.

"Oh," Shoko facepalmed. "Why are you so stupid.“

„I‘m not stupid!“

Suddenly, the door swung open, and you entered the room, clutching some medical papers in your arms. "Shoko, I got the-" you began, but your words trailed off as you looked up and took in the scene before you.

Your heart momentarily stopped as you saw Shoko sitting in the chair, with Gojo leaning over her, his hands on either side of the chair, effectively trapping her inside. A wave of unease washed over you. Had you interrupted something? They were too close for your comfort, and you couldn't help but wonder if there was something going on between them. Was that why Gojo had been ignoring you?

The pain in your heart was palpable, and your once bright smile faded into a crestfallen expression. With a heavy sigh, you cast your gaze downward, unable to bear the sight before you any longer. "Sorry for interrupting," you managed to utter, your voice laced with disappointment and a hint of resignation. "I'll bring the papers back later." Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heels, your footsteps heavy with a mix of sadness and frustration, and closed the door with a loud thud.

"Wait!" you heard a voice call out from behind the door, but you continued walking away, unable to bear the sight of them together. The sound of their voices faded as you distanced yourself from the room.

Meanwhile, inside the room, Gojo removed himself from the chair and took a step back, his gaze fixed on the closed door where you had stood just moments ago. His thoughts were interrupted by a voice, breaking through his contemplation.

"Don't drag me into this," Shoko's voice cut through the silence, her eyes boring into Gojo's. He met her gaze with a glare, unsure of how to respond.

"She probably misunderstood. Go talk to her before it's too late," Shoko advised, her tone firm. "Now, whoosh," she added, pointing her finger towards the door. "Get out."

—-

Over the next few days, something strange happened. Instead of Gojo avoiding you, you found yourself avoiding him. Even though Shoko had encouraged him to talk to you, he still kept his distance. Deep down, Gojo knew he was in love with you, but he didn't know how to act around you.

He was scared of doing something wrong and embarrassing himself. He couldn't quite grasp the fact that he was in love with you. He thought it was just a small crush that would eventually fade away, but it didn't. Every day, he felt more desperate to talk to you, but he couldn't bring himself to approach you.

Then, one day, you bumped into him while he was on his way to a mission. You couldn't take it anymore. Your heart hurt every time you wanted to talk to him but held back. The constant avoidance had taken a toll on you, and the pain of unspoken affection had become unbearable. You couldn't bear the uncertainty anymore and wanted to confess your feelings to Gojo, even if it meant facing rejection. You just wanted closure, hoping that even if he didn't feel the same way, you could move on from this torment.

So, there you were, standing behind Gojo as he walked towards the car that would take him on his mission. He was avoiding you again, but this time, you decided to take a leap of faith. You called out to him, "Satoru!" He flinched and turned to meet your gaze.

"Satoru," you spoke with a shaky breath, "You know, back in our teenage years, I had this crush on you. Silly, right? I mean, I never thought it would lead anywhere. We were friends, and I kept my feelings under wraps. Fast forward to that night we spent together – it felt like a breakthrough. I let myself hope that maybe, just maybe, there was something more between us. But then you started avoiding me like I had the plague, and it hit hard. But, you know, I tried to brush off the awkwardness, thinking maybe I misread things. Yet, every time we crossed paths, it felt like there was this unspoken tension, a lingering question that neither of us dared to ask. I couldn't shake the feeling that something had shifted, and it was driving me crazy. So, here's the deal, Satoru – If you don't see us as more than friends, I want you to say it. I'm not asking for poetic rejection; I just need the truth. So, Satoru, whether it's a yes or a no, I just need to hear it. I'm not looking for pity or grand gestures, just a straightforward answer.“

Your breath hitched with each word. Your gaze, usually steady, faltered, found solace in staring at the ground, avoiding the intensity of his eyes.

Gojo's eyes widened in surprise as your words hit him. He turned around completely, staring at you in disbelief. His breath hitched, and he felt his heart racing unexpectedly. Your confession catched him off guard,

In an instant, Gojo's initial disbelief transformed into a genuine smile, a glimmer of happiness breaking through. Without a second thought, he closed the distance, wrapping you in a tight embrace. Your attempt to speak was interrupted by his sudden hug,

"I've been an idiot for avoiding this for so long." He whispered

You tried to gently push him back, insisting, "I just need an answer, satoru" but Gojo held on,

"That scene you saw with Shoko wasn't what it seemed," he admitted, a sheepish smile forming. "I was actually talking to her about my feelings for you. I realized I've been an idiot for not realizing it sooner." He continued, "After that night we spent together, I started feeling all weird – butterflies and my heart doing somersaults. I thought I was sick or something, so I avoided you. Stupid, right? But now, I don't want to run away from it anymore. I like you, Y/N."

Your eyes widened at Gojo's unexpected confession. The weight of the unspoken feelings suddenly lifted, "Wait, you... like me?" you stammered, trying to process his words. Gojo chuckled, his hand rubbing the back of his neck

"Yeah, more than I thought. I was just too dense to realize it. And I'm sorry for avoiding you; I thought I was going crazy with those feelings."

Gojo, still smiling, took a step closer. "So, how about we stop avoiding and start enjoying these feelings?" he suggested, his gaze softening. Without waiting for a response, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a gentle, yet lingering kiss.

#[♡’—𝐟𝐯𝐬𝐦𝟒𝐱‘𝐬 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬｡•́]#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojou x reader #gojo angst #gojo saturo

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cherry-leclerc · 11 months ago

Text

all it takes ☆ mv1

genre: humor, fluff, angst

word count: 1k

cherry here!... i know it’s been a while - and i’m sorry! - but i hope a small drabble makes up for it! hope you guys like it!

Where Max doesn’t believe love exists for him until he finds his way to you.

Often, there would be times where Max wondered if there existed the possibility that something was wrong with him. Unlike him, his friends would fall into loving relationships - marriages, even - and he was just sort of…stuck.

At first, he really couldn’t explain it. He wouldn’t really worry, either. Until one day.

“Max,” he stutters as he gently shakes your hand. You radiate so much happiness and innocence in life that it had him intrigued.

It was a Friday night and he had agreed for drinks with Daniel and Checo to celebrate…God…he can’t even remember. He had kept to himself, occasionally jumping into the conversation that flowed between the other two RedBull drivers.

He hadn’t noticed you; the Australian had.

“Poor girl. She’s just trying to get a glass of water.”

Angling his head to look back towards the bar, he sees you. The way you keep raising your hand as if you were back in elementary school, waiting to be called on. To be noticed. The way your dress keeps rising up in the process. His breath hitches.

“She’s fine.”

“Oh. You’re hitting on her!”

“That’s a first,” Checo teases as he takes a sip of whiskey. Max blushes.

“I-I’m not! All I said is that she’ll be fine - she’ll get her drink eventually.”

“It could happen a lot faster if you go over and help her out. C’mon.”

It took a bit of convincing, but reluctantly, he agreed. The Dutch tried to hide his nervousness with a smile. As he got closer, he made sure to wipe his sweaty palms against his jeans.

“Hi.”

The moment you look up at him. He knew he messed up.

“Listen, man, I’m not looking for a one night stand, so…shoo.”

Suddenly, he’s reminded of why he never bothers to try. Swiftly, you go back to ignoring him as you pick up on your mission. He narrows his eyes, clearing his throat before slamming his hand down against the shiny wood.

“Can I get a glass of water, please?”

The bartender nods as he fills one up and slides it to the blue eyed boy before turning back to face greedy customers. Without a single smile, Max just hands it to you before waking off. You frown, bringing up the glass against your lips.

“So much sexual tension. I could tell from all the way here.” Max flips Daniel off.

“Sexual tension my ass. She was a snarky little-”

“Hi.”

“Whoopsie! My bad!” Feverishly, you bend down to pick up Crofty’s microphone as you hurry to hand it back before continuing your run towards the podium. Moments like these would always feel surreal and you can’t help but feel fortunate to be a part of all this. “Excuse me, excuse me, excuse m-”

“Can’t you see she’s trying to get through?”

As soon as you make eye contact with the man who makes your world flip upside down, a smile slips onto your lips. Crushing him into a tight hug, you bury your face into his race suit.

“You did it! You did it! Oh my God-”

“I’m used to it by now.”

You narrow your eyes at him as you lightly slap his chest. “Don’t do that, Emilian.” Heat rushes up to the Dutch’s cheeks as he looks around to see if anyone overheard. And there’s just no way the attention wouldn’t be on him. A Championship is all it takes.

“Oke, oke, that’s enough.” He lowers himself to whisper into your ear. “Do I get a prize or something like that?”

“We’ll see.”

“All it took was two years.” Daniel leans back against his chair as he stares back at you and Max with wide eyes. “Two nasty years and suddenly there’s no more stone cold heart.” Making sure to grab your hands across the table, he rubs the diamond in deep thought before looking back at you. “How did you do it?”

“Pussy. That’s how.”A sharp gasp escapes past Kika’s lips as she punches Pierre’s arm. The Frenchman hisses in pain as he scoots away.

And up to this day, it still remains a mystery. As some cruel joke, your fiancé would joke and say that it was some sort of black magic. The joke later had to be retired due to Yuki getting goosebumps after a night of research.

Not funny, you would point out as you console the Japanese boy who sits next to his bright laptop.

It’s not my fault he believes it!

He believes everything, you know that, Emilian!

Stop it with that.

Brushing his long fingers against the nape of your neck, he smiles probably the truest version he was ever capable of showing.

“Her heart is pretty easy to love.”

“Pink or blue?” Tossing over to face you and your wedding sketches - that honestly looked like a plot of how to get away with murder - he groans. This isn’t a baby shower, love. Kicking him underneath the covers, you cover your eyes as the stress finally gets to you. “It’s a summer wedding! It would be nice! A pastel perhaps or maybe neon - ew no.”

He’s about to laugh until he notices droplets sliding down your arms. Almost immediately, he sits up with urgency as he brushes your hair softly. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. Blue. Let’s do blue.” No. It’s stupid. And ugly. He winces as he kisses your shoulder. “It’s not!”

“Yes it is!” Bloodshot orbs stare back at him as you breathe heavily. “Daniel said it, Lando said it, God - even Pierre! Since when does he have better taste than us?”

“Pierre has the mind of a newborn, how would he know?” As soon as you crack a smile, he eases up. “If you don’t like either, then we could try coming up with something new. How about green?” Your smile drops as you wail against his arms.

“That’s even worse! You’re lucky I love you.”

“All it took was a fight for you both to call off the wedding?”

Staring blankly at the wall, Max shrugged. Everything almost seemed to serve no purpose if you weren’t a part of his daily life. He had gotten so used to having you around and bouncing off the walls like a kid who had too much sweets. Where had it all gone wrong? He doesn’t even know.

“Her heart is pretty good at holding a grudge.”

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gojoluvs · 5 months ago

Text

J'adore

⤿ Satoru Gojo × reader

summary, “her world turned upside down when her boss announced that he was the father of her unborn child. As she navigates her new life as a wife and mother, she finds herself falling for her husband's best friend, Suguru Geto. But is it love she feels? or just a desperate attempt to be noticed by someone other than her husband..”

Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, violence.

Genre; angst, infidelity, jik, Gojou × reader, modern au!, business au!

Notes: the tag-list is open if you'd like to be mentioned everytime i update just send me a message.

7k words

previous chapter ⤏ next chapter

"Welcome Mrs. Gojou, will you take a seat please?" The brown-haired woman gestured towards the chair in front of her desk.

You followed her instructions and sat down, taking in the sterile, white room around you.

The woman, who you assumed was the ultrasound technician, grabbed her gloves and a bottle of hand sanitizer, making sure to clean her hands before beginning the procedure.

As she prepared the ultrasound machine, you couldn't help but feel a mix of nerves and excitement. This was your first ultrasound, and you couldn't wait to see your baby for the first time.

The technician, sensing your anxiousness, smiled and said, "Don't worry, everything will be just fine."

You nodded and took a deep breath as you slowly laid down on the ultrasound table. The technician applied some gel to your stomach and began moving the wand around, searching for a clear image of your baby. As she did so, she asked, "How have you been feeling, Y/N?"

You smiled and replied, "A little tired and nauseous, but overall, I'm doing well.”

As you settled into Satoru's lavish house, the only person you could really call a friend was his maid. She was kind and always made sure you were well taken care of. However, Satoru had a different idea of taking care of you.

He insisted that you stop working because, for him, he made over 7 figures as the CEO of one of the most well-known stock markets. He wanted you to focus on being a housewife and living a life of luxury.

You had never been one to rely on a man for financial stability, but Satoru's charm and wealth was hard to resist. Plus, he seemed genuinely caring and attentive towards you. However, as you spent more time in his house, you couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness and lack of purpose.

As she squeezed the cold gel onto your stomach, you couldn't help but think about your old job and the satisfaction it gave you.

You missed the feeling of being independent and working towards your own goals. But for now, you were stuck in this luxurious prison, under the control of a man who inherited his wealth and business from his father.

You couldn't help but wonder if this was the life you truly wanted, or if you were just settling for the convenience and comfort that Satoru provided. As the cold gel seeped into your skin, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something was missing.

Although you were excited about your upcoming marriage, there was also a sense of unease and disappointment. You couldn't help but wish that your fiancee, Satoru, could be with you during this time.

But the reality was that he was always busy with work, his success as the youngest CEO in Japan consuming his every waking moment.

You often found yourself alone in bed at night, the emptiness and coldness a constant reminder of his absence. Despite the lavish and extravagant lifestyle that came with being engaged to such a successful man, you couldn't help but feel like you were missing out on something more important - quality time and genuine love.

After all, your relationship with Satoru was an arranged marriage, forced upon you after you became pregnant with his child. And as much as you tried to please his family and win their acceptance, there were always those who looked down upon you and your situation.

But deep down, you couldn't help but resent Satoru for his lack of affection and attention towards you, and you couldn't help but wonder if you were truly happy in this arrangement.

“If you can see here,” She grabbed her monitor turning it to face you. You knew her as one of Satoru’s friends. “Your baby is barely a tiny embryo, about the size of a pea.”

You smiled, seeing the small fetus on the monitor. You wished that Satoru could be here with you. Holding your hand and caressing your head but instead here you were. By yourself watching as the screen showed the small heartbeat of your baby.

After what felt like both the longest and shortest 20 minutes of your life, the technician turned off the machine and smiled at you. "Everything looks great, Y/N. Your baby is healthy and growing right on track."

As you stared at the screen, you couldn't help but feel a sense of doubt and insecurity. Would your fiancee ever truly see you as his partner, or would you always just be a means to an end? The ultrasound picture in your hand seemed to mock you, a reminder of the life growing inside you that would bind you to this man forever.

But deep down, you knew the truth. Satoru was still in love with Asami, his beautiful and practical secretary. You had never been properly introduced to her, always feeling like an outsider in your own relationship. You couldn't even go back to work, as Utahime would constantly update you on everything happening in the office - including Asami's constant presence and the expensive gifts she received from Satoru.

The constant flowers and expensive gifts Satoru's lover received from your fiancée only added insult to injury. While you never expected extravagant gifts, you never even received a simple gesture of affection from Satoru. He never touched you, never kissed you goodbye, and never gave you a hug. Whenever you would try to connect with him by asking about his work or if he was hungry, he would give you the cold shoulder.

Despite not being a great cook, you made an effort to prepare breakfast for Satoru like a professional. You whipped up pancakes and served them on a platter, hoping he would enjoy them. But time and time again, he would make an excuse about being "late" for work and leave without even taking a bite.

It seemed like all your efforts to connect with Satoru were overlooked and unappreciated. The only person who seemed to enjoy your company was his maid, who was kind and always treated you with respect. It was clear that your fiancée was not only mean and an asshole, but also had no interest in building a loving and fulfilling relationship with you.

“Would you like me to print the picture for you?” She asked her soft brown eyes boring into you. She was absolutely gorgeous aswell, her noticable eyebags bringing her features out.

“Yes please,” Wiping off the gel she got up, throwinf away the piece of paper before leaving the room.

You sat there, the ac blowing. Placing a hand on your stomach you couldn’t believe you were actually having a baby with your boss.

You never really had a serious relationship with anyone, always having flings. Yet you found yourself making out with your boss after his promotion party.

There was something about the way his eyes stared hungrily at you, maybe it was the liquor that made you two sleep together but now here you were. Sitting down awaiting for a picture of your baby.

Fidgeting with the button of your jeans you waited nervously. Hoping that maybe this would mean a new opportunity to be with Satoru.

"Alright, everything seems to be good, here you go," said the doctor entering the room with a small picture of your ultrasound. She handed it to you with a warm smile, and you eagerly grabbed it, feeling a sense of joy and excitement wash over you.

"Thank you so much," you said, beaming with happiness. You grabbed your purse and quickly made your way out of the room, eager to share the news with your fiancee. As you hurried down the stairs and out of the building, you could feel your heart racing with anticipation.

Your fiancee was waiting for you in his black range rover, looking as handsome as ever. You opened the car door and climbed inside, a bit out of breath from the stairs. "What took you so long?" he asked, side eying you with a hint of annoyance.

"I'm sorry, I just had to grab something," you replied, handing him the picture of your ultrasound. But instead of sharing in your excitement, he just scoffed and spat out, "I'm not looking at that." He carelessly threw the picture back at you, his words stinging like a slap in the face.

You felt your heart sink as you looked down at the picture, tears welling up in your eyes. You couldn't believe the callousness and lack of empathy in his words. But you knew deep down that this was just a glimpse of the kind of person he truly was.

"Listen, I'm going to take you back home," your fiancé said, his voice cold and condescending. "Mina has a dress ready for you. There's going to be a business party and I want you to be on your best behavior." He licked his lips suggestively and pressed the button to roll down the car window.

You felt a knot form in your stomach as you nervously played with the picture of your ultrasound. You knew your husband's business parties were nothing more than excuses for him to flirt with his colleagues and show off his trophy wife.

"A business party? Will everyone from the office be there?" you asked, forcing yourself to look at him. His eyes were fixed on the road, not bothering to spare a glance at you.

"Of course they will," he replied, his tone condescending. "And I expect you to make a good impression. We don't want anyone knowing our personal business, do we?"

You bit your lip, resisting the urge to argue. You knew it would be pointless. Your fiancé always got what he wanted, and you were just a pawn in his game. But as he continued to talk about the party, you couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that had settled in your chest.

“There will be an after party as well, but you won't be attending since,” he paused for a moment, his eyes flickering down to your stomach before returning to the road. “You're pregnant.”

"Just because I'm carrying your child doesn't mean anything, Satoru." You spat back, angrily putting your picture inside your purse.

"I'm taking Asami with me instead. You can stay home and rest." You glared at him, feeling hurt and furious at his insensitivity. How dare he take his assistant and ex-lover to the after party instead of you? Your blood boiled with anger and resentment towards your fiancee.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Why would you need your assistant there and not me? I'm your fucking fiancee, Satoru," you snapped, unable to contain your frustration.

"She's not just an assistant, Y/N," Satoru replied sharply. "And what did I say about talking back to me?" He gave you a warning look, his gaze boring into you. You wanted to scream and punch him for the nerve of not taking you, but you knew it would only make things worse.

"You know what? I don't even want to go to the stupid after party," you retorted, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'll stay here and enjoy some peace and quiet while you go gallivanting with your little plaything." You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, hurt and anger mixing together to form a bitter concoction.

The more you thought about it, the more resentful you became. It was bad enough that Asami was his assistant, but the fact that they used to be lovers only added salt to the wound. You couldn't believe he would choose her over you. It felt like a slap in the face.

Satoru's face hardened and he clenched his jaw. "Don't you dare talk about Asami like that. She's just my assistant."

"Oh, I'm sure she is," you scoffed, rolling your eyes. "Just like how she was just your lover, right?"

Satoru's expression turned dark as he glared at you. "Watch your tone, she is a professional and a valuable member of our team."

"Valuable in more ways than one, I'm sure," you retorted, your jealousy and anger fueling your words.

"Stop with your baseless accusations and insecurities," Satoru shot back, his voice dripping with irritation. "Asami and I have a strictly professional relationship, unlike you and your constant mood swings."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you exclaimed, struggling to contain your anger. "You have no respect for me, even though I am pregnant with your child."

Satoru rolled his eyes and slammed the car door shut as he pulled into the driveway. You followed suit, opening the car door and slamming it with a loud thud. This man had no regard for your feelings or well-being, constantly belittling and disrespecting you.

As you entered the house, you could feel the tension in the air. You placed your things on the counter and grabbed the ultrasound picture, placing it on the fridge with a small magnet. You couldn't help but smile at the small embryo growing inside you, a glimmer of hope in the midst of your tumultuous relationship.

"Ms. Y/N," your maid appeared behind you, her gentle hands taking your coat and bag from you before leading you to your bedroom. You followed her, grateful for the brief respite from Satoru's intense gaze.

Satoru entered after you, his confident steps echoing in the hallway. He placed a hand on his tie before undoing it, his eyes never leaving yours. You closed the bedroom door, letting out a shaky breath as you leaned against it. Unbuttoning your jeans, you let them fall to the floor before walking to your bathroom. The cold marble floor felt refreshing against your bare feet.

"Um, Mina, can you please have my things out? We'll be leaving soon," you said, forcing a smile as you silently closed the door behind you.

Being away from Satoru's presence for a few minutes felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders. You began undressing the rest of yourself, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were drawn to the tiny bump on your stomach, only six weeks along but already noticeable.

You open the glass door, feeling a cool breeze hit your skin as you step into the shower. You test the water temperature with your hand and adjust it to your liking before stepping fully under the stream. Grabbing the shampoo bottle, you slowly pour some onto your hand and massage it into your hair, relishing the feeling of cleanliness and freshness.

But as the water runs down your body, you can't help but feel a sense of unease. This whole thing feels wrong. You place both of your hands on your face, the water washing away any traces of tears. You hate this. You hate being away from home, from your family. Even though the only family you have left is your father.

The shower is quick, scrubbing your body with a loofah and doing all your essentials before stepping out. You wrap your body in a fluffy towel and slip on your slippers, walking out of the restroom and into your bedroom. The familiar scent of your own room comforts you, but it also serves as a reminder of how far away you are from home. You long for the familiarity and warmth of your family, but for now, this temporary living situation will have to do.

Your eyes were drawn to the beautiful dark red gown laid out on your bed. Walking towards it, you couldn't resist the urge to touch the fabric and feel the soft silk through the fingertips of your fingers. "Mina!" You yelled, quickly grabbing your underwear and putting it on before your maid came in.

Mina's face was slightly flushed as she entered your room and bowed, closing the door behind her. You could tell she was a bit flustered from seeing your body half-naked, but she remained professional as she awaited your command. "Do you think you can help me get into the dress?" You asked kindly, picking up the gown and passing it to her.

With a nod, Mina approached you and carefully helped you into the dress. She adjusted the straps and made sure it fit you perfectly, like it was made for you. You couldn't help but feel like a princess as you admired yourself in the mirror. "Thank you, Mina," you said with a smile.

Mina then handed you a pair of white gloves and you slid them onto your arms. Mina bowed once again, ready to leave and let you finish getting ready.

But before she could, you stopped her and said, “Please Mina, Help me with my hair will you?” You asked kindly, watching as she made you sit on your vanity, excusing herself for a moment to get the tools and supplies she needed you stared at yourself in the mirror.

As you sat in front of your vanity, Mina carefully brushed out your hair and began styling it into an elegant updo. You couldn't believe how kind she was being, helping you with something as simple as your hair. You were used to doing everything on your own, but Mina's presence made you feel cared for and pampered.

She applied makeup and added finishing touches to your hair, you couldn't help but stare at your reflection. You looked like a completely different person, someone who belonged in a fairytale or a fancy ball. This was all so new to you, as you were used to wearing work clothes or comfortable sweats.

But you had to admit, you looked stunning. And for a moment, you allowed yourself to feel like a princess, basking in the luxury of it all. But deep down, you knew this wasn't really you. You were just a simple person, and all of this was foreign to you.

Mina's hands moved quickly, expertly adorning you with various pieces of jewelry. "We have this pearl necklace, it brings out your collarbones more, and this one," she said, holding up a red jeweled necklace, "it brings out your facial features, especially your eye color."

As she placed the necklace around your neck, you couldn't help but notice how beautiful she was. Her short bobbed hair and dark green eyes were mesmerizing. You couldn't resist smiling at her as she finished her task.

"Which one do you think is better, Mina?" you asked, admiring yourself in the mirror.

Mina seemed taken aback by your question, stuttering slightly before recomposing herself. She carefully chose the red necklace and placed it back on you, clipping the clasp in place. "The red jewel really makes you look like a princess, Miss Gojo," she said with a smile as you turned to face her.

You couldn't help but feel grateful for Mina's help. Her attention to detail and eye for beauty made you feel like royalty. "Thank you, Mina," you said, genuinely touched by her kindness.

Mina smiled back and gave you a small nod before stepping back to admire her work. "You look stunning," she said, her voice filled with sincerity.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn't help but feel confident and beautiful, thanks to Mina's expert styling. You were lucky to have her as your friend and maid.

The whole time you spent gossiping and getting to learn about Mina's life, you couldn't help but admire her. She was truly a sweet soul, always kind and hardworking despite being in a low-paying job as your maid. Her resilience and positive attitude were something you looked up to. As you walked through your luxurious home, you couldn't help but feel guilty.

Mina deserved a better life, one with more opportunities and less back-breaking labor. Your heels clicked on the marble floor, a reminder of the stark contrast between your lives. As you grabbed your designer purse and said your goodbyes to Mina, you couldn't help but feel a sense of responsibility towards her.

"Please, take this time off and get some rest," you insisted, knowing how hard she worked every day. You watched as she reluctantly agreed, and as you walked out of your home, you couldn't shake off the feeling that you wished you could do more for her.

Closing the door behind you as you walked out of your house, you felt a sense of tension in the air. Satoru was standing on the driveway, his arms pushed into the pockets of his black suit, his back leaning against his sleek Mercedes Benz. As you approached him, his gaze was fixed on you, his eyes scanning every inch of your body. You could feel his intense stare, making you self-conscious about how you looked.

You were wearing a stunning dress that hugged your body perfectly, accentuating your curves in all the right places. Your face was glowing, and your collarbones were prominently displayed, making you feel both beautiful and vulnerable under his gaze.

But Satoru's reaction is what surprises you. His mouth slightly agape, he looks like he's seeing you for the first time. You pass by him, unable to resist a small smile as you hear him let out a soft sigh.

"Don't look at me like that," you say, trying to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks.

You reach for the passenger door and open it, climbing into the car and trying to ignore the intensity of Satoru's gaze. "Like what?" he asks, his voice low and husky.

"Like you've never seen me before," you reply, trying to keep your voice steady.

Satoru doesn't respond, but you can feel the tension between you. It's been building up since you walked out of the house, and now it's almost palpable in the air. You can't help but wonder what he's thinking, what he wants to say.

Finally, he opens the car door and gets in, his eyes never leaving yours. The drive to your destination is filled with a charged silence, the tension between you growing with each passing minute. But for now, you just sit in the car, the only sound the quiet hum of the engine and the beating of your heart.

Ignoring his presence, your gaze shifted to the window, taking in the familiar scenery outside. The trees rustled in the gentle breeze, and the sun was just starting to set, casting a warm glow over the quiet neighborhood. You watched as he backed the car out of the driveway and onto the road, his expression unreadable.

The car ride was filled with an uncomfortable silence, broken only by the occasional glance exchanged between the two of you. His hair was slicked back, accentuating his sharp jawline, and you couldn't help but notice the engagement ring on his finger as he turned the wheel to take a sharp turn. Your own ring felt heavy on your finger, and you couldn't stop fidgeting with it nervously.

Sitting in the luxurious car, dressed in a designer gown and adorned with expensive jewelry, you couldn't believe that this was your life now. Just a few weeks ago, you were a struggling employee, barely making ends meet and working for a difficult boss. You didn't know that he would be the man you would be engaged to, or that you would end up pregnant with his child. And now, you were about to marry him in an arranged marriage, all because of that one night of passion.

Looking out the window, you couldn't help but think about the life you could have had if you didn't get pregnant. Maybe you would have met someone else, someone who you could have married and had a family with. But instead, you were now a part of one of the most powerful and influential families in the country. The Gojo family was treated like royalty, and you were now going to become a part of it.

This was the man you would spend the rest of your life with, and it all started with one unexpected pregnancy.

Stepping out of the car, the bustling sounds of the city surrounded you. Gojo, your fiancé, opened the door for you and grabbed your hand, placing it gently on his forearm. The luxurious car door closed with a satisfying thud and Gojo handed the keys to the parking attendant who quickly took his car to the reserved section of the party.

Outside of the building, a sea of paparazzi awaited your arrival, their cameras flashing and voices yelling. You held onto your elegant dress, carefully making your way up the stairs as Gojo led the way. As soon as the paparazzi spotted your fiancé, they erupted into a frenzy, shouting his name and begging for him to look at their cameras. You held onto Gojo's arm tightly, feeling slightly overwhelmed by all the attention.

"Gojo! Over here!" they yelled, their voices competing for his attention. He pulled you closer, shielding you from the flashes and noise before finally stopping to pose for a photo, much to the delight of the paparazzi.

Satisfied with your appearance, you confidently walked over to the entrance of the grand building. As you stepped inside, you were met with the grandeur of the foyer - a large chandelier hung from the ceiling, casting a warm and inviting glow over the space.

The sound of lively conversations and laughter filled the air as you made your way through the crowded hallway, passing clusters of elegantly dressed men and women. You couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation as you walked further into the party, the energy and sophistication of the room enveloping you. Everywhere you looked, there were people engaged in lively conversations, sipping on glasses of champagne or wine, and admiring each other's luxurious gowns and suits.

Satoru cleared his throat once he spotted Asami, wearing a tight long black dress. She scurried towards you, glancing at you before smiling for a split second. Her smile seemed fake, as if she was trying too hard to appear friendly. You could feel your blood boiling as she placed her hand on his bicep and turned to look at you.

You could see the tension in her eyes as she tried to maintain her composed facade. "Do you mind if I take him for a moment?" she asked, her voice dripping with fake sweetness.

Your eyes narrowed at her before turning to look at your fiancé's expression. He seemed uncomfortable, almost avoiding eye contact with you. "I don't give a fuck what you do," you spat back, your anger and frustration rising.

You couldn't believe this woman had the audacity to try and take your fiancé away from you, even just for a moment. You walked away from the ex lovers, the sound of your heels clicking against the floor echoing in the hallway.

You walked away, Feeling Asami's eyes on you, almost like she was waiting for you to lash out at her. But you didn't want to give her the satisfaction. You didn't want to stoop to her level and engage in her petty games. You rolled your eyes at them, walking away and distancing yourself from the drama. You didn't want to deal with her bullshit, especially not while you were pregnant and already dealing with enough emotions. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, or maybe it was just the fact that you couldn't stand her, but you were glad to have walked away from that toxic situation.

You were standing next to a table in the corner of the room, watching the crowd of people mingling and laughing. You let out a sigh, feeling a bit left out. You really did wish you could drink right now, but you knew you couldn't. Not with the baby growing inside of you. Suddenly, a girl approached your table, placing a cup of champagne on it before turning to look at you. She was wearing a beautiful white dress, her long brown hair cascading down her back.

"Are you the new fiancée of Satoru?" she asked, watching as you turned to face her. You were a bit taken aback by her sudden question. How did she know who you were? And why was she approaching you?

"Yes, who may you be?" you asked politely, trying to hide your confusion. The girl smiled at you, her eyes showing slight signs of exhaustion.

"Sorry, we met earlier," she explained. She extended her hand out, waiting for you to grab it and shake it. You smiled back and shook her hand, trying to place where you might have met her before.

"I was the ultrasound technician who did your appointment earlier today," she said, taking a sip of the champagne. It all clicked in your mind now. This was the kind woman who had performed your ultrasound and showed you the image of your little bundle of joy.

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Ieiri," you said, grateful for her introduction. You couldn't help but notice the slight bags under her eyes, a sign of her long and tiring day.

"Please, call me Shoko," she said with a warm smile, retreating her hand and taking another sip of champagne. You couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and familiarity with her, and you were grateful for her presence in this unfamiliar gathering.

Thats when it happened, completely star struck. You instantly recognized him, Suguru Geto. The man who partnered up with your fiancee for one of the most known stock exchange in Japans history.

He walked into the room with confidence, his tall frame and sharp features immediately drawing the attention of everyone in the room. He wore a sleek black suit, his hair styled in a neat bun with a few strands of hair falling out to frame his face. His dark eyes scanned the room, his presence commanding attention and respect.

As he approached your table, he had a warm and gentle smile on his face. He placed his glass of champagne down and turned to look at you. His eyes scanned over your body, taking in every detail. You could feel his gaze on you, causing your heartbeat to quicken. His eyes stopped at your face, lingering on your lips before looking back up to meet your gaze.

"Absolutely gorgeous," he said, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. He reached for your hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your hand. Your heart fluttered at his touch, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of electricity between the two of you. He placed your hand back down with a smile, his eyes never leaving yours.

You couldn't believe it. This had to be a dream, a cruel trick your brain was playing on you. But as the music filled your ears and Suguru's hand gently rested on the small of your back, you couldn't help but feel like you were in a fairytale.

"I- Uhm," you stuttered, feeling your heart race as you tried to recompose yourself. "Thank you."

Suguru's gaze never wavered, his eyes locked on yours as he introduced himself. "I'm Suguru Geto," he said, his voice low and smooth.

"I'm Y/N. Y/N L/N," you replied, feeling a blush spread across your cheeks as he looked at you with a smile. You couldn't believe you were standing next to him, the man you've admired from afar for so long.

"Would you like to dance Y/N?" Suguru asked, his voice low and filled with admiration as he looked at you. His dark hair fell over his intense gaze, making you feel like the only person in the room.

"Me?" You stuttered, taken aback by his request. The Suguru Geto, known for his aloofness and cold demeanor, was asking you to dance with him at this fancy party. And to make it even more surprising, no one else was dancing.

With a nod, Suguru stepped closer to you. "Of course you, who else?" His hand reached out to gently rest on your back as he led you towards the dance floor.

As the music continued to play, Suguru's hand moved from your back to intertwine with yours. You couldn't help but feel a flutter in your stomach as he led you to the dance floor, his touch sending shivers down your spine. The steamy tension between the two of you was palpable as you swayed to the music, your bodies moving in perfect harmony.

He turned you to face him, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, making your heart race even faster. His hand clasped yours tightly, his fingers entwined with yours as he put his other hand on your back, pulling you close to him. You couldn't help but inhale sharply as you felt his cold palms touch your skin, the contrast between his cool touch and the warmth of his body sending your senses into overdrive.

As you looked away, you noticed people beginning to stare at the two of you, their eyes filled with curiosity and perhaps a hint of envy. But you were too lost in the moment, too entranced by Suguru's touch and the way his eyes seemed to burn into yours, to care about anyone else. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you became acutely aware of the intense gaze he had fixed on you.

And then, as if he could sense your discomfort, he spinned you around, his hand on your back guiding your movements as he pulled you even closer. Your dress flowed slightly as he moved, his eyes never leaving yours. And then, with a mischievous smile on his face, he leaned in close and whispered in your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "Ignore them," he murmured, his voice low and seductive.

You nodded as you continued to dance in a slow pace, others beginning to join you aswell. Before you knew it most of the people at the party where dancing along with their partners. Smiles and giggles filled the room.

You were smiling at Suguru, your heart beating with excitement as he spun you around on the dance floor. Suddenly, you felt yourself being snatched away from his grasp, and your eyes landed on your fiancée’s face that was full of anger.

His jaw was clenched and his eyes were narrowed as he looked at Suguru, who was standing there staring at you and Satoru. Raising his eyebrows, Satoru cocked his head towards his best friend and said, “So we’re letting other men touch you now?”

You scoffed at his possessiveness as he placed his hand on your back, his nails scratching your skin as he pulled you close. You could feel his muscles tense as you danced with him, maintaining eye contact in defiance. “So now you want to start paying attention to me after I’m seen dancing with another guy?” you said, shaking your head in disbelief. As you spun around, your hands extended outwards, and he did a half turn, pulling you back against his chest as you swayed to the rhythm of the music.

Even though you were dancing with his best friend, you couldn't help but feel drawn to your fiancée's touch. His strong arms wrapped around you, his breath on your neck, and the way he effortlessly moved with you made it hard to resist.

"Your my fiancée," he said, his voice low and filled with desire. As he leaned in closer, you could feel his hot breath on the back of your head, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. His chest was rising and falling with each breath, and you couldn't help but feel drawn to him. "And he's my best friend," he added, his gaze intense as he looked into your eyes.

"And? You were off with Asami doing god knows what," you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you turned away from him. But he quickly grabbed your arm and spun you back around to face him. His hands trailed over your body, causing shivers to run down your spine as you fought to keep your composure. But the music and the buzz of the party seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in the middle of the dance floor.

"Are you jealous?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips as his eyes scanned over your dress and back to your eyes.

"No, disgusted," you spat back, narrowing your eyes at him. But he didn't seem fazed, his smirk only growing wider.

"After all, you are just a man," you added, pushing yourself away from him and walking towards the restroom. You could feel his eyes on you as you walked away, and you couldn't help but glance over your shoulder to see him standing there, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

But your eyes quickly landed on Suguru, who was standing off to the side, watching you with a mixture of longing. You gave him a small smile before turning back to the hallway.

Sighing, you walked towards the ladies room and to the sink, feeling the exhaustion of the day weighing heavily on your shoulders. You turned on the faucet, the sound of the rushing water a soothing background noise. As you washed your hands, you couldn't help but glance up at your reflection in the mirror.

But as you turned around to leave, you bumped into someone, causing their purse to fall to the ground. Immediately, you bent down to pick it up, dusting it off gently before handing it back to the person.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't-" you began to apologize, but quickly stopped as you saw the familiar smile on Asami's face. Your annoyance with her grew as you realized she was probably enjoying this encounter. She scanned her eyes all over you, making you feel exposed and uncomfortable.

"It's okay," she said, her voice almost sing-song as she watched you with a pout. You couldn't help but narrow your eyes at her, your annoyance evident in the way your eyebrows twitched. But before you could say anything, she smiled again and turned to you, tilting her head slightly.

"Y/n?" She called out, her voice almost teasing. You turned to her, your expression still showing your irritation. But she didn't seem to care as she continued to smile at you, her head tilted to the side in a playful manner. It was clear that she was trying to get a reaction out of you, and you couldn't help but feel annoyed at her childish behavior.

"I'm so happy you don't mind that Satoru promoted me to take over your spot in the office," Her lips curled into a smile almost sadistic. Your expression went from annoyed to disbelief as you realized that she was reveling in your misery.

"Y'know, I really did like being his Assistant but now that he promoted me, I can be with him more often..." she paused, stepping closer and tilting her head, her eyes gleaming with malicious intent. "And maybe be even promoted as an associate!" she chirped, her voice dripping with fake innocence.

Clasping her hands together, she waited for you to speak up. But instead, you chuckled, licking your lips as you stared at her, the anger and disgust rising in your throat. "So this is what gets you off?" you said, lowering your eyes and looking at her with disgust.

"Huh?" she replied, stunned at what you were saying.

"Do you enjoy seeing me annoyed? Do you get pleasure from making me mad?" You scoffed, raising your eyebrows and crossing your arms. The music of the party was muffled and the sounds of people talking outside could be heard, but all you could focus on was Asami's twisted enjoyment at your expense.

"Asami, you're nothing but a burden to me," You sneered your eyes cold and calculating. Asami's smile faltered for a split second before she began to laugh at you. The sound was shrill and mocking, causing a chill to run down your spine.

But then, Asami's laughter stopped abruptly and she stepped closer to you. "Is that what you really think?" she asked, her lips twitching into a sly smile. "That I'm a burden to you?" Her hands balled into fists at her sides, and you could see the anger burning in her eyes. "Well, Y/N, let me tell you something. I am not a burden. In fact, I am your worst fucking nightmare."

"You're just another weak and pathetic girl who thinks she can take my place in Satoru's life." She took another step closer, until your faces were only inches apart. "But let me make one thing clear, Y/N. Satoru will never love you like he loved me. And I will make sure that you suffer for trying to take him away from me."

Asami's breath was hot and putrid, and you couldn't help but gag at the smell. But she seemed to revel in your discomfort, her eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure. "And now, with you carrying his child, you are even more of a burden to him. He will never be able to fully commit to you because of that," she sneered, her words like daggers in your heart.

"Really, Asami?" You said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "I thought you were just a pathetic ex who couldn't move on." Asami's eyes narrowed at the insult. "But I see now that you're not just pathetic, you're also delusional." Your words were like daggers, and you could see them hitting their mark as Asami's expression twisted in anger.

"You know what, Y/N?" Asami said through gritted teeth. "You may think you have some sort of power over me because you're pregnant with Satoru's baby, but you're wrong." Your heart skipped a beat at the mention of her pregnancy, but she refused to show any reaction.

You couldn't hold back your laughter any longer. "Honey, you couldn't even handle a day in my shoes," you said confidently. "But hey, if you want to try and make my life a living hell, go ahead. I could use a good laugh." Asami's face turned red with rage, but she couldn't come up with a response.

Before she could say anything someone else walked in, breaking the small argument between you and Asami, smiling you walked passed her and out of the restroom just to be met with the face of Suguru. You looked stunned, he followed you all the way here?

Pushing past him he grabbed your arm, stopping you from walking away, “Y/N, wait,”

“I want you to work by my side,” he said taking the card out and handing it to you.

“Just call me,” He said before smiling at you and excusing himself.

You fidgeted with the card, feeling the rough material before turning and watching Suguru go back into the party.

taglist: @ryumurin @h0neysiba @satoruontopofme @nerdiellers @iaminyourfloors @aleigant @stariiesz

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zafirosreverie · 9 days ago

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Call the exorcist (Agatha x F!Reader)

For @roseclear

a/n: I haven't watch the show, I just know the basics, so sorry for any plot mistakes.

Spoilers for the ending

______________

Your life was chaotic. From the moment you met that damn charming, chaotic and slightly evil (well, very evil) witch, your whole world did a 180.

From one day to the next, magic was not only something possible, but little by little, it became something common in your life. Something you got so used to that you thought nothing could surprise you anymore.

Rule number one of being married to a witch: Agatha Harkness can always surprise you.

You weren't stupid, you knew she didn't tell you absolutely everything, that there were parts of her past she would never tell you, that they were completely buried and she planned to keep them that way. Not that it bothered you, if you were honest. 300 years of life had to have hard moments, and you decided that you wouldn't push her any further than she felt comfortable sharing you.

Still, that damn woman always managed to give you gray hairs, and you were sure that one of these days she would put you in an early grave. But you still loved her, more than life itself.

______________

The first scare was when she disappeared to go to Westview. You had a hard time getting in touch with her, and she only gave you a hasty and poorly structured explanation about chaos magic before sending you back home.

A week later, Maximoff's escape and what she had done to the town was reported on the news. You came back as quickly as you could, but you couldn't do anything. You were forced to watch your wife live as Agnes for 3 years, powerless and weak to bring her back.

Then the boy showed up. Billy Maximoff, or at least a variant of him? A reincarnation? The truth was that you didn't quite understand, nor did you care. The only important thing was that Agatha was back. And with her, chaos. Of course.

God forbid you have a second of peace with your wife.

The coven, Rio, Billy, everything was too confusing, too much for your mortal mind to understand in all the details how quickly the situation was changing, and Agatha, in the middle of it all, the central pillar, was not much help.

You knew she didn't tell you everything, but that she had gotten involved with death or that she had a child should have been some of the things she could have tell you, right? At least you thought that something like that should be important enough to tell her new wife.

You hadn't even finished assimilating all that when your witch, always chaotic and without explanations, kissed Rio, lady death, to save Billy. You didn't even have time to say goodbye to her, or to assimilate that, just like that, from one moment to the next, you had become a widow.

You didn't think you had known greater pain in your life. Knowing that your wife, the woman you loved, as imperfect, chaotic and evil as she was, was no longer there, broke your heart. You couldn't even stay there for long, you went back home as soon as you could, desperate that everything was a damn nightmare, that when you opened your eyes, Agatha would be there, with that infuriating but beautiful smile that you loved so much, ready for a new chaos.

But no matter how many times you woke up, reality was still there. Agatha was dead, you were alone. And your wife wasn't coming back.

_______________

…until she did.

________________

You calmly stepped into the shower, allowing the hot water to wash away the stress of the day, the worries and sorrows. You allowed yourself to close your eyes and focus for a moment on the feeling of the water against your skin, the warmth of the steam and-

"AGATHA!!!" you screamed as you jumped up, and your wife still had the nerve to laugh.

It had been less than a week since Agatha Harkness had come back into your life, ready to turn it upside down again. At first, you thought you had finally lost your mind (sometimes you still thought that it was the case, to be honest), when the ghost of your dead wife appeared in the middle of the living room.

However, in true Agatha fashion, she began to cause all kinds of mischief around the house, moving things around, disarranging things, and giving you those damn kisses that you still couldn't decide if you loved or not. And that was all you needed to know that yes, your wife was back. In the form of a pile of ectoplasm with too much time on her hands and too eager to take you to the grave too, but she was back.

"Come on sweetie, you can't blame me" she laughed, floating closer to you "you know I've never been able to resist your…charms"

You shivered as her fingers, cold and not quite physical, ran down your lower back. Before you could protest, Agatha kissed you deeply. Kisses with her were very strange now, to say the least.

Not that they bothered you, you just still had to get used to the feeling of kissing an ice cube that you couldn't really touch but was at the same time as real as yourself. You never imagined kissing a ghost, but here you were, proving once again how much you loved this woman even in death.

"You're a menace" you said as she pulled away

"But I'm your menace" she smirked

"…we said 'till death do us part', why are you still here?" you crossed your arms, covering your naked body a little

"Oh darling" she laughed and caressed your cheek with those icy fingers "it's cute how you really thought death would rid you of me. No, my love, you're mine, in this and every life after"

Something in her tone and the way her ghostly fingers gripped your chin, told you that she really planned to keep that promise. And you couldn't help but smile.

"That's cute, my love" you said "…but get out of my shower right now"

"Oh come on" she laughed "I've seen you how tou came into the world many times"

"Agatha!" you shivered as you felt her icy fingers on your lower back again

"Yes?" She smiled like the Cheshire Cat

"I love you" you said "but if you don't let me take A FUCKING SHOWER IN PEACE, I'M GOING TO CALL A PRIEST AND EXORCISE THE DAMN HOUSE!!"

And of course, that damn beautiful, charming, chaotic and slightly evil (well, very evil) witch that you loved more than life itself, had the nerve to laugh.

#x reader #reader insert #agatha x reader #agatha spoilers #agatha all along #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness imagine #agatha harkness #gay for kathryn hahn #mcu x reader #giveagathaagirlfriendchallenge #that tag doesn't apply anymore #but it's tradition #let me be

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misslovasstuff · 6 months ago

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Monster trio are the type to…

summary: some romantic headcanons. NSFW content is marked aside. this post might change as I always get ideas to add new ones hehe~

Sanji the type of guy that showers you with compliments but once he gets one back, he CRUMBLES.

Zoro the type of guy that gives affection when you least expect it, smiling fondly at you when you’re looking away.

Luffy the type of guy that would go far and beyond to see you smile, would turn the world upside down if anything made you cry.

Sanji the type of guy who melts under your touch, searches for it, craves it.

Zoro the type of guy that can hardly keep eye contact without getting flustered.

Luffy the type of guy that calls your name more times than you can count throughout the day, even for the smallest of reasons.

Sanji the type of guy that buys you gifts, gives you flowers on daily basis, makes you every meal of the day and gives the best comfort hugs in the world.

Zoro the type of guy that shows love, does not tell it. He’d cover you with a blanket when you’re sleeping, ask if you’ve eaten or find you a jacket or anything that can keep you warm when you’re feeling cold. He’d go out of his way to do something he’s not familiar with or can’t do, all because you need it. He’s very observant so even if you try to stop him from putting too much effort, he’d probably scold you and deliver anyways.

Luffy the one whose gaze softens when he sees you having fun, always joining you in your favourite activities as your presence alone makes him distant from any glimpse of loneliness.

Sanji the one who loves having you in his arms when you’re sleeping together, making sure to kiss you good morning and spend a little time stroking your sleeping face in awe as he reminds himself how lucky he is to have you by his side.

Zoro the one who accompanies you shopping although it’s not much of his interest. However, what interests him is the time when you try out those pretty dresses at the shop and he gets to help you choose while loving seeing you dress up.That and also this man is paranoid he doesn’t want you to be alone where you can be targeted for any reason, be it for assassination or even just a simple approach from a guy. That would get Zoro fuming.

Luffy the only one who laughs at your stupid jokes and hears you yap over and over because there is a spark about you that he absolutely adores and loves seeing you shine like that.

Sanji who is so worried about you all the time. He wants you to be safe and would take extra caution to ensure your safety. He can’t lose someone who finally loves him the way he has craved all his life to be loved.

Zoro who was surprised to find himself shedding tears at one of your handwritten letters for him before you left for some months. He manned up quickly but your letter is always in his pocket, which he repeatedly reads when he’s alone.

Luffy who doesn’t share food with anyone, but always likes to sit down and eat beside you. Well at least you are happy that he doesn’t steal from your plate, but at times you catch him staring fondly at your face and you wonder if you have something stuck in your teeth.

Sanji who stargazes, naming stars in the sky after you. Holding your hand and caressing it gently, not missing a heartbeat without being able to tell you how much you mean to him.

NSFW

Sanji who loves when you ride him, he makes the moment so much more intimate with the way he holds your waist and pulls you close so gently although he’s overstimulated and urges that he controls well sometimes, push him to be more than just gentle.

Zoro who is surpassingly tender. His hands although scarred are careful and soft and yet so big that both of your tits are grabbed by his right one as the other travels down your body.

Luffy who is so loud during sex. He moans, groans, whispers and cusses out, calls out your name so messily.

Sanji who was not into bondage at first but once you cuff him and go down on him, he’s now convinced that he’s into whatever you do. The cook is a blushing mess as he glances down at they way you play with him, meeting your eyes that seduce further and enable him the frustration of not being able to touch you back which he compensates by his suave, always on point remarks. ‘I didn’t know prisoners were treated so well, mon cherie~’

Zoro who absolutely loves it when you suck him, gripping your hair as pushing his head backward, leaving out the most gruesome groans as he looks down at you with a smirk on his flushed face, seemingly breathless. His enemies won’t ever catch him like that but your mouth isn’t making just his heart throb.

Luffy whose kisses are the best. Tongue plays with yours in a way that leaves you completely mesmerised, wondering how he does it. They’re always so soft and wet, and when he gets rough, love bites are normal.

Sanji who eats you out so so good. The way your hips go crazy as you grip your hair and he tries his best to keep you in control, pushing your legs apart as he completely devours you.

Zoro who loves having you on his lap, groping your ass tightly as slapping it slightly as you move it. Your tits pressed on his chest make him eager as he conquers your neck with the best hickeys that only he can give and is proud to do so.

Luffy who loves having you from behind, pushing your hair out of your back as he traces his hands all over it. He leans to whisper the nastiest stuff in your ear as he keep thrusting from behind, making you a moaning mess.

Sanji who rises you up to the kitchen counter for a quick make out session. This man loves missionary, having your bouncing tits right below him as your hands scratch his back, moaning his name over and over again. The eye contact is so important to him, he gets lost in your eyes, and that lewd expression on your face only turns him on more, making him thrust deeper into you, pressing his chest against yours and whispering sweet praises in your ear.

Zoro who grabs your ass multiple times a day. Sometimes you lean over just to tease him and he tries to keep a poker face but I’m reality he’d love to lean you against any counter and have you here and there.

Luffy who gets rough sometimes. He doesn’t degenerate in the classic way, however he teases you so sexily which obviously is not intended but comes naturally to him. ‘you’re really so needy for me, aren’t you?’

Sanji who fingers so good. He’s so good with his hands, making you cum so hard, making you daydream and often finding yourself staring at his hands while he’s cooking and blush while reminiscing on the last time he gave you the most intense orgasm of your life with his fingers alone.

Zoro who fucks hard when he’s drunk. He seldom gets drunk but when he’s drinking he’s usually in a good mood and you love that because those are the times he takes sex slowly, explores your body through before absolutely losing control once he’s inside you.

Sanji who is shy at first to iniate sex but then gets creative to do so. He’d get you a new lingerie, make your favourite dessert and say that it’s saved for later tonight. At times he loves teasing you when he senses you’re horny, making the clash between you so awaited and anticipated that you both cum so fucking fast.

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astraystayyh · 1 year ago

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If the world was ending

Felix x reader. Estranged childhood best friends to lovers. Angst and happy ending. highly recommend listening to If the world was ending while reading :)

Felix has always been there with you, from the moment you've met him when you were 8 years old, until he suddenly no longer was, and you were left to grapple with the consequences of his absence- and those of his return.

cw: description of a car accident, reader has a fear of loud noises.

skz song series masterlist

12 march 2011

Screeching brakes, a jarring collision, glass shattering all around you, shards of it embedding into your tender skin. You are too young to understand it all, but you know it's bad. You are suddenly upside down, the only thing helping you stay put is the seatbelt fastened around you. You didn't really like seatbelts but your mom always insisted on you wearing one.

Your mom, you can't see her face, she's upside down too, and she isn't talking. That's unusual because you're crying and she isn't turning around to comfort you. Someone is screaming outside of your car, and then you are pulled out. You don't know who's touching you, and you want them to stop. Where is your mom? Why did they not pull her out too?

An ambulance approaches you; its loud sirens feel like pine needles drilling into your skull. You try to cover your ears but your hands are covered in blood. The world around you is painted red- the flashing lights of the sirens and the liquid oozing from your cuts. It’s no longer your favorite color.

27 may 2011

You are playing in the playground near your home, waving at your mom from the top of the slide. She's gotten better, she smiles more easily at you now. And you are trying to be a good kid too; you help wash the dishes and you clean your room all by yourself. You don't want your mom to feel sad again and go back to that dreaded hospital.

You slide out, happy giggles leaving your mouth, before climbing up the tiny stairs once again. But as you reach the top, an ambulance rushes by the playground. You don't know what's happening, but you suddenly feel shards of glass on your skin once again. Your hands are shaking as you sit on the floor, curling around yourself in a ball.

"What's wrong?" someone asks and you lift your head tentatively. It's a young boy, he's looking at you worriedly, a tiny pout on his lips.

"I don't like ambulances," you hiccup, burying your head in your knees again.

Suddenly, small hands cover your ears, muffling the shrill sound of sirens. They are warm and sticky from the red popsicle he’s still holding.

"Now you can't hear them," he giggles, his eyes disappearing into moon crescents. Despite your raging fear, a smile finds its way into your lips.

"What's those on your face," you ask with a small voice, pointing at the faint marks dusting his cheeks.

"They're called freckles," he says proudly and you nod.

"They're pretty."

"Thank you!" he grins at you, his hands still covering your ears. The tightness in your chest seems to dissipate slowly before his kind smile- the shadows never stood a chance in front of the sun.

"What's your name?"

"Felix. And you?"

"Yn."

"We should be friends," he beams and you grin back, agreeing wholeheartedly. "We should."

15 november 2021

You are sitting on the grass of that very same playground, Felix still by your side. The night breeze is cooling as it brushes against your bodies, and you're wearing his red sweater. It smells like his cologne and your perfume- an intoxicating scent you've come to memorize by heart.

His nose tip is rosy from the cold, and you can't resist tapping it playfully. "Your nose is pink," you giggle, and he smiles, gently bopping yours in return.

"So is yours."

You look at him as he gazes up at the stars above. You love Felix, it has always been crystal clear to you. From the moment he planted the seed of his friendship into your soul, and throughout the years when it bloomed into something more, bigger than the two of you. It wrapped around your being entirely, binding itself into your every atom, until all you saw is his reflection in you.

And you were tired of treading the line between friendship and something more. You wanted, no craved being with him, your yearning so intense it spilled from you each time he was around. In rosy cheeks and shaky fingers and eyes that soften only when they rest on him- evidence of your love imprinted all upon you.

You take in a deep breath, before laying your hand gently on his cheek, turning his face to meet yours. His eyes widen slightly at the soft touch, and you lean in closer to him. You brush your nose against his, slowly, "to warm it up," you whisper, as his breath hitches in his throat.

He's close, he's so close, you can almost taste the brownies you shared earlier on his lips. You can see his freckles ever so clearly, constellations you often find yourself getting lost in. Your hand is still on his cheek, and you can feel it burning up under your palm.

You close your eyes, as his lips are now just a breath away from yours. It's electrifying- having him so near to the way you've always dreamed, fantasized about. But he needs to be the one to take the jump, all he has to do is lean in a bit, and you'd kiss him. You won't ever let go.

"Lixie...," you choke out, "kiss me."

"I want to." His voice is hoarse with emotion, as if fighting with himself for self-restraint.

"So do it," you ask, swiping your thumb gently across his cheek. Your breaths mingle with one another in a dizzying dance.

"I'm leaving," he says so faintly, you believe for a second that you've imagined it.

"What?" you ask, leaning a bit away to be able to look at him.

"I'm leaving," he repeats, his eyes tightly shut. "We're moving to another country, for my dad's job."

"You're leaving me?" you ask, bewildered.

"I'm not leaving you-"

"But you are. You won't be here anymore." You drop your hand, taking hurried steps away from him. Touching him didn't feel electrifying anymore, it felt horrible and nauseous, because you won't get to do it again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to-"

"How long have you known?"

"Yn..."

"Felix," you say, tone stern. "How long?"

"Six months," he whispers and a bitter chuckle escapes your lips.

"When are you leaving?"

"In a week."

The pain becomes unbearable, and you turn your back to him so he wouldn't see your rapidly falling tears. You are angry, as a disguise for the sadness threatening to drown you. Him leaving tasted like the salty water you gulp when you dive in too quickly into the ocean. And you did dive in, in him, in his soul and everything that made up Felix. And now he was leaving you, with no anchor to help you float again.

"Is that why you insisted on spending so much time with me lately? Because you were leaving?"

"You need to understand I didn't know how to tell you, I- I don't even know who I am without you." He pleads, his own eyes shimmering with unshed tears, reminding you of tiny diamonds. That's how it is with Felix, you found beauty in everything he did- even tearing your heart in half.

"Maybe you should've thought of how I would feel. You were thinking of leaving me while I..." Your voice breaks and you take a shaky breath. "While I was falling in love with you."

"I'm in love with you too," he quickly says, reaching out to hold your hand. "I love you, I always have." He's wrapping his arms around you, and you're letting him because it feels safe and secure. Because he’s still your Felix, even if he's leaving you behind.

You wonder what you must have done in a past life, what a horrible person you could've been for the universe to treat you this cruelly. To hand you everything you've ever wanted in a silver platter, and snatch it from your hands before you could dare to grab it.

"We'll make it work," he mumbles into your hair, placing a tender kiss on your temple. "We'll talk and we can be together."

"No, we can't. I'll just hold you back from living your new life, I can't have that."

"Don't talk like that, please," his voice wavers, words barely managing to slip out of his mouth. Regret overtakes your body so suddenly at the thought of his lips- you shouldn't have tried to kiss him. Maybe then he wouldn't have told you he was leaving.

"It's the truth. we'll grow to hate each other, distance will put a strain on us. I'd rather not talk to you than have you resent me."

"But-"

"Just hold me," you cut him off. "As if nothing's happening, please."

And he complies because Felix always does. Because he loves you and as much as he doesn't want to, he knows you're right.

•••••

It's been three months since Felix left- the days passed by agonizingly slowly, and yet the months went by in a blur, a hauntingly vivid reminder of what once was. At first, the texts between you two were frequent, but as time wore on, the messages grew sporadic, from your end, mostly. Seeing him flourish in his new life felt like salt on an open wound, a reminder that he was moving on while you were still anchored in memories of him.

You saw him in every corner of your city. The smell of brownies that he's made countless times, each time you felt sad. The way he kissed your cheek each time he won a game, while you were lying on his bed, bored. The way he hugged you whenever you were sick, gently tucking strands of your hair behind your ear. The way he covered your ears instinctively at each loud noise, knowing how scared it made you still.

And you've felt each of these emotions since he was gone. You were sad and bored and sick and happy and scared. And he wasn't here with you through them. Each moment away from Felix seemed to magnify what could have been- what should have been between the two of you.

There is a building construction next to you, loud cement blocks crashing to the ground. And you are curled around yourself in a protective ball, covering your ears with your hands, because Felix isn't here to do it anymore for you.

You and Felix have grown with one another, your soul carefully woven into his, like two threads intricately stitched into the same tapestry. Him leaving felt like half of your body was cut off from you, and you were left alone to figure out how to function with an incomplete heart.

17 july 2023

Summer break meant coming back home and sleeping in your childhood bedroom once again. Memories of Felix still lingered in there- posters he has given you and his red sweater that you've never found the courage to throw away. It doesn't hurt as much to remember him, the sharp pain morphed into a dull ache you've grown accustomed to by now.

You're watching the TV mindlessly when someone knocks on your door, and you go to open it without a second thought, expecting it to be your parents. It wasn't.

"Felix?" you stammer, stumbling back in shock. You blink repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to make sure he's not a figment of your twisted imagination. You haven't uttered his name in so long, and the syllables felt both foreign and familiar in your mouth.

"It's me," he smiles sheepishly, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

"You are here," you whisper, stating the obvious. He didn't change much, his kind brown eyes and freckles still as captivating as before. But his features were sharper, prettier, and the sight of him is making you dizzy once again.

"I am."

"What are you doing here?" You ask cautiously, opening the door a bit wider to let him in.

"I requested a transfer to your university. I wanted to come back. I missed home, and I missed you," he adds softly, making a turmoil of emotions surge within you.

You clear your throat. "So, you are back for good?"

"I am," he says, smiling slightly at you as if to gauge your reaction. You stay silent and his grin falters; his tongue resting against the inside of his cheek, a habit he hasn't let go of apparently. He then walks to the kitchen and you follow suit. You don't have to show him around, he knows your home like the back of his hand. He spent most of his childhood here after all, even though his house was only a few blocks away.

"How have you been?" he asks as he opens the cupboard to take out a glass. He closes its door softly, careful not to make it thud.

"I'm good. It's summer break so I'm finally back home, what about you?"

"I'm good too. It's nice to be back."

Your conversation is strained and awkward, so unnatural of you both. There was so much to say, so much to ask about, but you couldn't bring yourself to speak. He felt like uncharted territory to you now, one you didn't have the strength to discover once again.

"It's your mom's birthday tomorrow, right?" he smiles and you nod.

"Should we make her our cookies? Like we used to before I..."

"Before you left," you finish, bitterness dripping from your tone.

Hurt flashes in his eyes and you feel your heart suddenly clench in your chest. It was unfair for you to treat him this way. He was only seventeen and if your parents were to move away you would've followed them too.

"Okay, let's do it." You smile sincerely for the first time since he came back to you.

You both move seamlessly in the kitchen, each knowing your tasks like a choreographed dance. This was a tradition that started when you were twelve years old. You'd brown the butter while he beat the egg and sugar together. He'd sift the flour while you cut up chocolate. He'd mix it all while you preheat the oven. And then you'd roll the dough together.

Your hands brush against one another as you shape up the cookies, and it feels so intense you almost drop to the floor. You miss him, you miss him so much and he's near you and you can't seem to think straight anymore.

When the cookies are finally in the oven, he silently washes the dishes while you dry them. He abruptly pauses, hands still covered in soap before turning back to you.

"Can we talk? Please?" he says too quickly as if he's been overthinking asking this question.

"I'm busy today," you scramble to think of an excuse, you weren't ready to face him yet.

"Tomorrow?"

"I'm staying with my mom, then there is Han’s party."

"I'll be there too. We can talk then, please?" he asks, eagerness evident in his voice.

"Fine. Let's talk there," you concede and he nods, awkwardly shifting in his place. He finishes the dishes before drying his hands. You avoid his gaze and he sighs softly. "I'll get going. Tell your mom happy birthday from me."

"Will do." You smile tightly and he does the same, before finally leaving your home, and in his trail, a maelstrom of emotions you weren't certain how to deal with.

18 july 2023

You're at the reunion party Han is hosting with all your high school friends. You watch as Felix takes turns talking to everybody. He fits right in here, a puzzle perfectly clicking in place as if he's never left. He's telling a joke to Chan who laughs loudly, hitting Minho's arm repeatedly. Everyone is happy he's back, because they never had to gravel with the consequences of his absence. Because he's never ripped their heart out.

Felix is looking for you around the room- he hasn't seen you in a while. He assumes you're somewhere around the house, and that you'd like to talk when time has passed. The knot in his stomach tightens as the weight of your conversation dawns on him, he longs to be with you, to undo the past two years he has spent away from you. But he's afraid to mess everything up, once again, so he stays near his friends who are now pulling him outside of the house.

"We have a surprise for you," Han says excitedly before pointing at the sky, "look."

Fireworks, a dazzling show of blue, red and yellow. And Felix feels as if the colors were drained out of his face and splattered into the night sky before him.

"Where is yn?" he turns to Chan, eyes wide.

"Inside, I think. Why?"

"Stop- stop this, don't start any more fireworks," he urges the boy who's looking at him worriedly.

"Why, what's wrong? We have a warrant to start them, don't worry."

"No, no you don't understand. Yn hates loud noises," he explains frantically, before bolting inside the house.

He's yelling your name, and you are nowhere to be found, the sound of the fireworks so loud he isn't even sure you can hear him.

He opens door after door, and after painstakingly long seconds he finally finds you in the bathroom, sitting on the floor, your head buried in your knees. Just like you were twelve years ago.

Felix doesn't waste any time, kneeling in front of you to cover your ears with his hands, you look up at him, waterline brimming with unshed tears.

"It's okay, I'm here. Just focus on my voice," he smiles reassuringly at you, and you clasp your hands on top of his, doing your best to muffle the sound of the explosions.

"Your hands are still small," you attempt to joke, as hot tears trail down your cheeks. You hated how scared you still were.

"The perfect size to cover your ears," he smiles at you, his eyes softening when they take in your distressed state.

You hiccup, overcome by a new wave of emotion- for an entirely different reason this time. "You came."

"I'll always come. Even if the world was ending, I'll... I'll come to you," he smiles, biting his lower lip to stop his own tears from falling.

"It'd be useless if you came then. There would be nothing for us to do," you manage to say through shaky breaths.

"But I'd be with you," he insists, gaze unwavering, "It will be scary for you. I imagine it will be loud, the world can't end silently."

"Mine did, when you left." Felix's eyes go wide at your words, and you don't care that you are baring your soul entirely to him. "Please don't leave me again. I hate goodbyes with you."

"Why would we ever say goodbye again, hm?" he reassures, his knuckles brushing against your cheek softly. "I'm never leaving you, as long as you'll have me, I'm here," he whispers, before pulling you into his chest.

Your hands find his back, and his cheek rests on top of your head. And you both close your eyes, an exhale of relief leaving you both at the same time. The world grows dark around the two of you, the only thing you saw was his heart and the overflowing love he still bore for you.

You felt as if you were wandering blind and you could finally see again, as if the string tying you to him wrapped tightly around the both of you, trapping you in his warm embrace.

You don't know what will happen next, but he's holding you now, and he'll hold you when the world is ending, and that is enough.

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