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lemonlover1110 · 17 hours ago

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𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐚

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 1] Indecent Proposal

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Knight!Toji Fushiguro x Princess!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Suggestive Content, Minor Sex Talk

Story Summary: This is what'll get Toji killed... But how can he reject her when she looks up at him with such beautiful eyes? A man that's been to war won't be killed by the edge of a sword but rather the lips of a woman.

He shouldn’t lay a finger on her, but he’ll do anything that she asks him to. She’s his princess, he has to follow her every word.

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“Toji!” You yell from the top of your lungs, and the man that stands outside your door can’t help but sigh. He knocks on the door of your room, only for you to yell some obscenities. He rolls his eyes before opening the door.

What a kind and proper princess. He’s won wars only to deal with this. The scars on his body mean nothing. Protecting the princess should be of the highest honor– If only she weren’t such a brat.

“What, princess?” He questions as his eyes widen. It should be no shocker to find you underdressed, but he can’t help but be surprised each and every time. You truly don’t view him as a man.

“Help me with the corset.” You order as his eyes land on your maid. The woman has stepped aside to let him take charge.

“Isn’t it tight enough?” He questions, seeing how tight it looks. It looks proper enough, but it seems that you want it to suffocate you. Your request alone tells him where you’re going tonight.

“Get to work.” You tell him, not answering his question. He’s right, it is tight enough, but it could be tighter. Toji grabs the strings on the back and you hold your breath as he pulls. Tonight is going to be long, but it’ll all be worth it.

“Where are we going?” He foolishly asks, as if he didn’t know. You’re trying to see those who you call friends. The ones that snicker when you turn your back to them.

“Did you forget, Toji?” You ask as he pulls some more. He furrows his eyebrows, trying to recall what’s happening tonight. There’s no response from him, letting you know that he’s completely forgotten. “My engagement party.”

“Of course, finally.” He responds. “You’re finally meeting the prince that I’ve been hearing nonstop about for–”

“He isn’t here.” You cut him off, leaving the man at a loss for words. An engagement party with no groom, what else did Toji expect from royalty? “He couldn’t make it tonight so we’re moving on without him.”

“Will this happen at the wedding too?” Toji mutters, something that your keen hearing picks up on. And you just can’t keep your mouth quiet about it, you have to say something.

“Shut up, Toji. What do peasants even know about weddings?” You roll your eyes before they fall on your maid. You mouth an apology to her for your comment; it’s meant to offend Toji, not her.

The old woman laughs, finding the bickering as a great source of entertainment. She got annoyed with it at first, but after two years of watching it happen before her eyes, she’s grown fond of it. It’s nice to see you get along with someone that’s just not her. Maybe getting along isn’t the right phrase to describe your relationship with Toji, but she’s not sure how else to put it.

“Do you think we get married in a pig’s sty or what?” Toji questions as he lets you go, patting your back twice to let you know that he’s done.

“Yes. In a place full of shit and with loud animals.” You add, making Toji scoff. In a way, Toji should be honored. You don’t speak to anyone else like this.

“Just shout my name if you need anything else.” He responds, something that he shouldn’t even bother saying since that’s what’ll happen anyway. Your voice stops him before he can walk out the door.

“Emerald uniform tonight.” You remind him, and he hums in response. An improper response, but proper for an improper princess.

“Toji.” The man hears from a sweet familiar voice. He’s hiding in the kitchen, filling his stomach up before the engagement party tonight. He already feels it in his veins, tonight will be interminable.

“Hanako, can I help you?” Toji asks as he stuffs his mouth with a crab cake. Kitchen staff have slapped his hand one too many times tonight, but he still manages to sneak some food in. “Does the princess need me?”

“The kitchen staff told me to come here to drag you away.” Your old maid tells him, making him click his tongue. He can’t even enjoy a proper meal in the damned castle.

“I’m just having a short meal before watching over the brat and her friends tonight.” Toji’s words are barely comprehensible with all the food in his mouth.

“Do not refer to the princess as a brat.” Hanako slaps the back of his head, making the man whine. Who thought that such an old woman could have such a firm hand? “She is a very kind woman, do not speak like that about her.”

“Why does the princess hate me then?” He questions, his hand rubbing the spot that Hanako hit.

“The princess does not hate you.” She responds, and he rolls his eyes.

Right, is that why you insult him so much? Toji doesn’t care enough about it, but he does notice how you treat him differently from everyone else. You’re kind to everyone in your surroundings— Whether they’re royalty or the help. But Toji? He’s a whole different story.

“Then why does she act the way she does?” He asks, and the old woman can’t help but chuckle. She should keep her mouth quiet about it, but there’s no harm in it. You’ll be getting married soon.

“Well, dear, don’t tell anyone else this but…” She begins, looking around the kitchen. Everyone is too worried about making a feast, that they aren’t paying attention. She still does lower her voice before confessing to him, “The princess has a tiny crush on you, and she isn’t a woman that’s in touch with her feelings.”

His eyes widen as his lips turn into a straight line. The old woman is messing with him… He didn’t expect it from Hanako of all people, but he’s been proven wrong.

“A crush, huh? Don’t lie to me, old woman.” Toji’s words earn him another slap, this time on his forehead. He whines again, rubbing that spot as he tells her, “You have such a firm hand…”

“Respect your elders.” She tells him, hand wrapping around his wrist to drag him out of the kitchen. He should fight it, but he knows better than to argue with the elderly.

“Toji…” Toji’s sick of hearing his name, and the night is far from over… How could he forget that the engagement party is tonight?

His eyes fall on Mayu, a maid that works closely with him in the castle. She smiles brightly at Toji, a man that can’t return the sentiment. He’s exhausted to say the least.

“Hi, Mayu.” He greets her, not caring to look twice at her. She’s a nice girl that keeps Toji company whenever he’s not watching after a certain someone that makes him want to rip his hair out. However, whenever he’s working he’s not all that interested in her.

“The emerald uniform tonight, huh? The princess insisted that everyone wears this awful color.” The woman laughs, hoping that Toji joins in, but his mind is elsewhere. Toji ponders on the old woman’s comment– A crush on him? She’s turning senile.

“The princess gets what she wants.” He replies, making Mayu hum in response. She keeps trying to make conversation with him, but it’s obvious that the man doesn’t care enough. He zones out for a minute, in which he realizes that she’s still talking.

“So I was wondering…” She begins, and he raises his eyebrow. “Will you–”

“Toji!” She’s interrupted before she can ask her question. She rolls her eyes, realizing that it’s by none other than the woman herself. Her eyebrows furrow when she sees the man’s reaction. His jaw nearly drops as he realizes why you’ve chosen emerald of all colors for tonight, luckily, he manages to remain his composure.

“What is it, princess?” Toji responds, while Mayu begins to walk away. You walk over to him, looking both ways to see if you spot the old woman.

“Have you seen Hanako? She’s supposed to help me get ready.” You ask him as he looks you up and down. He’s almost checking you out– But oh, your father would tear him to shreds.

“You look ready to me. Certainly not how I found you earlier.” He answers, and a frown comes to your face. That wasn’t the question you asked, so why is he answering like that?

“Answer my question, Toji.” You tell him, which ends up with him shrugging.

“Don’t know. Last time we talked, she was dragging me out of the kitchen.” He informs you, making you laugh as you shake your head disappointedly.

“When do you not think about eating?” You point out, and he puts his hands up defensively.

“I wouldn’t be this hungry if you fed me.” He argues, making you click your tongue.

“You’re a big boy, you can feed yourself.” You argue back, and he gives you a peculiar look before clearing his throat.

“Touché, princess. Next time I’ll leave my post to get myself some food.” He replies, speaking to you as if he’s won the argument. However, there’s no way to win an argument if you’re involved.

“You know you can leave without an issue.” You tell him, which makes him cross his arms. You stare at each other for a minute before he reminds you,

“Your father would kill me.”

“I don’t need protection all day every day.” You respond.

“Your father would kill me.” He emphasizes, making you scoff. He’s won, but you’d never admit it.

“I’ll feed you, just help me put on my necklace.” You say, and he has no other option but to follow behind you. He’s no longer hungry, but it’s not like he has the option to refuse to help you.

Toji stands in the doorway, watching as you rummage to find the necklace you’re wearing tonight. Knowing you, you probably lost it in a matter of hours. It’s funny, you have so much that you hold little regard to a piece of jewelry that could secure the stability and wellbeing of a village.

Luck is really a hilarious concept. You have everything while so many struggle to survive. Not only wealth, but the looks and intelligence that many people lack. Your only downside is that you’re a damned brat, but even poor people can act like you do. Maybe that’s why you annoy Toji so easily, you have nearly everything a person could ask for, yet you fail to realize it.

“Bingo!” You exclaim, proudly holding up the velvety black box. You walk over towards Toji, and hand it to him. He scoffs, when you fail to open the box, which is the simplest task that he can think of.

His eyes glimmer when he opens the box, admiring the beautiful stones that will adorn your neck tonight. No farmer will ever see this much money in their lifetime, let alone hold it in their hands like Toji is right now. He can’t ponder on that thought though, there’s nothing he can do about it.

That’s just the way life is.

He takes the necklace and puts it on your neck, his big fingers struggling with the small clasp. He mutters a few curses under his breath, causing you to laugh. Toji rarely struggles on a task, and apparently, this is one of them.

“You know, I can save you a dance if you’d like.” You say out of the blue, trying to make conversation to fill in the gaps of silence. You know Toji enough to know that he’ll reject it, but maybe just maybe, tonight he’ll change his mind.

“I have two left feet.” He answers, making you chuckle. You should’ve expected as much– At least this time around he didn’t bring up how inappropriate it’d be, and how he’s just the protection. Toji finally gets the necklace on.

“Luckily for you, I have two right feet so I balance it out.” You respond, turning around and grabbing his hands. He’s quick to retract them from your grasp. Toji likes to play it safe. Once upon a time, he was completely different but once upon a time he didn’t work in the castle.

“A proper princess such as yourself shall not dance with a peasant.” He’s using the various arguments he’s heard throughout the years against you, and he can tell that you’re not exactly pleased with it. You puff out a breath, crossing your arms.

“Suit yourself.” You say, walking out of the room to which he’s forced to follow. “Just so you know, that was a once in a lifetime offer. I’ll never ask you to dance with me again.”

“I won’t be missing out.” He comments, making you momentarily glare at him. At that moment he thinks of the old woman’s words again… A crush? Maybe she isn’t as senile as he thought.

“Toji.” The same soft voice from earlier calls out his name, and he rolls his eyes. It’s nothing against Mayu, she’s a sweet girl, Toji is just sick of hearing the stupid name over and over again. He doesn’t even like it, so why do people love to say it?

He looks around the ballroom, excessively decorated just for one night. The palace is always clean, and decorated but never this pristine. There’s flowers in every corner and he swears he sees his reflection on the floor. There’s a massive orchestra performing for the guests, playing music that can bore him to death.

The castle almost looks lively. Almost.

“What is it?” He sounds annoyed. He’s just standing in the corner, waiting for the princess to make her grand entrance before he’s allowed to take a break. The place is going to be filled with guards, he’s not needed until you decide to leave.

“I was wondering if you’d… Like to dance with me after all of these guests leave?” She looks down at the ground in shame, quickly regretting the question. He should be the one to ask, but she knows that he’d never step up and do it. She just assumes that it just isn’t the type of guy Toji is.

“After the orchestra leaves? With what music?” Toji responds, and she bites down her lip. She never really thought about that.

“Perhaps the princess will give us a chance to dance. It is courting season.” She says, making Toji chuckle. It’s not for the reason she thinks though.

“Courting season is for noblewomen.” He reminds her, a rather harsh reminder. Maybe in another life she’ll be born as the princess, but she certainly doesn’t have that sort of luck this time around.

“Right.” She subtly nods, disappointed by the answer. She bites down her lip, looking around the place. She tries to change the topic to something that Toji would be more willing to talk about, “Is the princess being insufferable today?”

She’s met by a cold gaze, and she just wants to dig a hole and crawl in it. Nothing she says or does impresses him. She should know better than to try.

“Hey, Toji…” She mutters again, just as you make your grand entrance. The way his pupils dilate as he watches you come down the stairs. There’s no change in facial expression, but his eyes are a dead giveaway.

She’s ignored, but she doesn’t try again. She won’t compete with a princess. Toji will eventually crawl to her. One morning he’ll wake up and realize that he’ll never be accepted into royalty.

His eyes are dead set on you, as you begin to dance with your father. The first dance should be for your fiancé… Yet, the man isn’t here. Toji wonders what the point of an engagement party is if your fiancé isn’t here. You’ll just stand in a corner, and watch everyone dance whilst the jealous nobles speak ill of you.

He’s noticed that everything the royals do is for show. Otherwise, this engagement party would’ve been canceled.

“I’m taking my break.” Mayu comments, something that falls on deaf ears again. Toji should leave behind Mayu, but he keeps staring at you. He’s watching as you walk over to the group of women that you call your friends.

Toji rolls his eyes before following Mayu, deciding that he won’t watch you make a fool of yourself tonight.

“Toji.” He’s nearly drooling on the kitchen table, his drowsiness getting the best of him. He doesn’t know whether he wants to kill them or thank them for waking him up; he guesses it’s the latter since he’s still on duty. He doesn’t want to be caught slacking off, especially not by–

“Princess?! What are you doing back here?” His eyes snap wide open at the realization that it’s you. At least it’s not the king. You won’t get him in trouble for sleeping. A big yawn escapes his lips before he asks, “Aren’t you supposed to be dancing the night away?”

“You know…” You begin, taking a seat with him on the table. He notices the spark in your eyes is gone, knowing that it’s all because of your friends. They said something and now you’re here, instead of enjoying your engagement party. “An engagement party isn’t all that fun when your fiancée isn’t there.”

“Well, I’m sure he had a great reason.” Another yawn escapes Toji’s lips as he tries to reassure you. It’s not late or anything, the day just tires you out when all you hear is your name being called over and over again.

“I wouldn’t know myself.” You awkwardly chuckle, and now he knows the talking point of the evening. He doesn’t know how, but the women manage to get under your skin. You just seek approval from everyone, perhaps it’s because you don’t have many friends.

“If it helps, I have a huge sword that can take care of the problem.” Toji jokes, but you furrow your eyebrows. You have no idea what he’s talking about, and he won’t explain himself either. He clears his throat before asking, “Do you want to take a walk?”

“Yeah.” You end up agreeing, standing up from your chair. He walks behind you as you look for an exit, which ends up on him grabbing your hand and leading you to the outside. You’ve lived in this castle for over twenty years, yet he knows the place better than you. It’s good that he’s by your side, because you’d be lost otherwise.

You can still hear the music from the orchestra inside, the sound becoming faint as you walk further away. You might not know your way inside, but you know the walk straight to the garden from anywhere.

Toji won’t speak unless he’s spoken to, that’s his role.

“Do you think it’s dumb to marry someone you don’t know?” You suddenly ask him, walking to the fountain that ties together the garden. Toji bites down his tongue. Being honest isn’t the best policy here. He knows how to pick his battles, and frankly, this isn’t one that’s worth fighting.

Sure, you tend to bicker a lot but he says stuff that is harmless. He never plans to hurt your feelings, it’s not something he intends to face the consequences for.

“Toji, answer.” You insist, hating the silence that you’re met with. “Staying silent is an answer either way.”

“Well…” He sighs. You take a seat on the edge of the fountain, looking up at the man. He looks hesitant, telling you all you need to know. “I’ve always thought that you’re supposed to marry for love.”

“Yeah…” You look down at the ground, almost in shame. Toji doesn’t understand why, because you have everything a human could ask for– He married for love once, and it was stripped from his hands. Love doesn’t secure anything; the power and money in your hands is a guarantee to a good life.

“It’s not worth it anyway.” Toji reassures you, something that he rarely does. He doesn’t have to, you’re never self conscious. Unless you bump into your friends, then your mind completely changes.

“Right! You were married once, how was that?” You look back up at him, curiosity brimming your eyes. Toji shakes his head, deciding not to speak. You end up sighing before talking again, “They know more about him than I do… And it feels weird.”

“What do they know?” He asks, and he watches you bite down your lip. Your face ends up going into your hands as you tell him,

“They say he’s a sex freak.” Your words come muffled, and he blames what he hears on that. Those words did not just come out of your mouth.

He frowns before asking, “What did you say, princess? I didn’t quite catch that.”

“He’s known to be promiscuous.” He hears you loud and clear this time around, and his eyes go wide. He’s perplexed by the response, but he shouldn’t be. Royalty or not, a man is still a man. He’s not sure how to answer, leaving you to speak by yourself. “What if I’m not enough for him? I mean I know nothing and–”

“I’m sure you’ll be more than enough.” Toji ends up cutting you off before you can ramble. You furrow your eyebrows, crossing your arms like the damned brat that you are.

“For you, maybe.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He quickly asks, and you click your tongue.

“You’re a peasant. Peasants are satisfied with anything they pick from a brothel– But he’s royalty.” You explain, making Toji scoff. He mimics you, crossing his arms while staring you down.

“Where do you think your royal prince is going to be promiscuous?” He leans down, getting into your face. If the king saw him, his head would roll off for being too close to the precious princess. “Maybe you’re right. I wouldn’t be satisfied with you either.”

“Good thing you’ll never be the prince.” You stick out your tongue at him, and Toji rolls his eyes.

“You’ll be fine, princess.” He ends up telling you, but that’s not enough to soothe the sudden wave of nerves. “You need to stop listening to those women. They’re jealous of your status.”

“Toji…” Your breath hitches, thinking if you really want to ask him the question. No, you shouldn’t. It’s not appropriate– You still spit it out, “How do you have sex?”

“Princess, I was there when they taught you this. I don’t have to explain this to you.” Toji quickly answers, trying to look unphased by the rather odd question. It’s a good thing someone else is raising his son because he doesn’t know how to handle it. “Which was quite weird, considering you were well into your twenties.”

“No, I mean how is it enjoyable? How do you make a man enjoy it?” You’re practically interrogating him, and while Toji isn’t one to get nervous, this isn’t sitting well with him.

“It’s just something that…” He begins, and he can’t bring himself to say it. Instead he extends his hand for you to take, insisting, “Let’s go back inside.”

“What?” You’re quite annoyed that he doesn’t give you the answer to your question.

“Look, princess. There’s no explanation. It just feels good when it’s with the right person, that’s that.” He ends up giving in, very clearly sharing your sentiment of annoyance. “Now, let’s go back inside before your father kills me.”

“Fine.” You roll your eyes, taking his hand and standing up. He guides you back inside, where you’re everyone’s prey once again. Your eyes keep wandering back to him, but before you know it, Toji’s out of sight.

“Hmm… Toji.” She knew that this is how she’d end up tonight. No matter how much Toji tries to ignore her, he ends up coming back to her in the darkest moments of the night.

Toji marks Mayu’s neck, knowing that she had no way of hiding it tomorrow. She likes to think that it’s because he’s possessive, rather than him just being reckless. It doesn’t matter the reason, she’s still digging her nails into his back as his kisses get lower and riskier.

“Toji!” They both hear, making the man freeze. She puts her index finger over his lips. If he doesn’t make a sound, they’ll go away. “I need your help!”

“She’ll leave if you don’t say anything.” Mayu whispers, and Toji’s too in the moment so he agrees. It’s his job as your assigned knight, but it’s after hours.

He thinks he’s safe after a minute, but the man often forgets how invasive you can be.

“Toji–” The door opens, and he looks back at you. Your eyes go wide and you immediately cover your face, protecting yourself from the compromising situation. He stares back at you with guilty eyes, as if he’s tainted your innocence in any manner.

“What is it, princess?” He asks, getting himself off Mayu and grabbing a shirt. It’s after hours, you’re assigned a different guard until the morning. What can he do that your guard possibly can’t?

“It’s fine, after further thought, I can handle it.” You respond, taking baby steps as you back out. Toji sighs, looking back at Mayu.

“Leave.” He mouths to her, and he watches as the woman gets upset. Toji doesn’t have the energy to deal with her, instead, he walks over to you. His hand goes to your shoulder and he turns you around.

“Are you decent?” You question, and Toji almost smirks. You can really crack him up even when it’s not your intention.

“I’m walking you back to your room, am I not?” Toji answers, and he watches you uncover your face. It’s clear that you’re embarrassed about the situation you found him in. He ends up chuckling before saying, “I guess you can say that I’m one of the peasants you described earlier.”

“What do you– Oh! No. No no. You like that girl and–” Your brain is unable to find the right words. It’s as if the system is overheated after finding your knight in that situation. “You know I just say things to tease you.”

“I don’t really like her.” He confesses, and you raise your brow. You don’t respond to that, you’re not sure how to.

He clears his throat, “What did you need help with?”

“I needed help with something and I didn’t want to ask Hanako.” You answer, and he shakes his head disapprovingly.

“So you chose to bother me instead?” He’s mostly teasing, but you can’t look him in the eye. “You know, that still doesn’t answer my question. What could I do that your night guard can’t?”

“Nothing. It’s trifling.” You reply. You’re nearing the room, and you both notice how your night guard is missing. He’s most definitely looking for you.

“Here you are, princess.” Toji opens the door to your room. He has to make sure that you enter your room safe and sound, and that you don’t try to escape– Oh, what a headache that would be.

Your gaze falls on his massive arm, one that is usually covered by the long sleeves of his uniform. Right now he wears a simple white undershirt, one that gives you the view of the many scars on his arms. Scars that he’s gotten throughout the years of many battles. You know better than anyone that Toji has been through a lot, otherwise he wouldn’t have the position as your knight.

You don’t know why you keep staring at it, or why you like it. Your face begins to get warm, and you almost have to pinch yourself to get out of the trance that you suddenly have found yourself in.

“Goodnight, princess.” Toji tells you, knocking you back into reality. You step into the room, muttering a barely audible goodnight. Your hand goes to the door knob, and just as you’re about to shut the door in his face, he asks you, “Are you sure you don’t need any help with anything? What you needed sounded urgent.”

“I’m fine.” You nod as you begin to shut the door in his face. But you stop yourself when there’s a crack in the door. What’s the worst that can happen?

“Is everything–” Toji begins when you open the door wide once again. Nothing can possibly prepare him for the question that leaves your lips. The help that you needed just a few minutes ago– It wasn’t just anything that anyone could fulfill.

There’s a reason you sought him.

“Toji, will you have sex with me?”

#[Imaculada]#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #daddy toji #fushiguro toji #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji zenin #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji fanfic #knight toji #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x reader

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feitanii-ll · 2 days ago

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“ GUMI’S HOME!! “

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt.3

✭ Pairing: Satoru Gojo x fem!reader (romantically), Megumi x reader (platonically)

✭ synopsis: Megumi grows to learn that he does have a family. Or, raising Megumi with Satoru.

✭ Contains: SEASON TWO SPOILERS! (I think it’s common knowledge by now, though. HEAVVYY FLUFF, more bickering between Satoru and little Megumi. Megumi being sassy again, more use of y/n in this chapter, tiiiiny angst BUT IT GETS HAPPY AGAIN. GUMI IS SUCH A CUTIE PATOOTIE.

September, 2007. Two days prior.

It’s another quiet night in your home. Far away from the bustling city, in a comfortably still neighbor with the right amount of peace that you just adore during times like this. It’s a home that you’ve made yours and decorated to your accommodation. Four bedrooms, three bathrooms, and a backyard— not to mention paid off completely, thanks to your adoring man, Satoru Gojo.

Much to his pleasure, you’ve made it your own personal haven. Adorning it with the things that both you and your sorcerer boyfriend enjoy.

Because it’s only the two of you, you never found reason to utilize any of the other rooms, opting to keep it as an emergency guest room (though with how protective Satoru is over you, you knew he’d never lead anyone over to your house). And so, you opt to only use your shared room, which leads to now.

The first time you hear about fushiguro’s child is in your room, getting ready for a night with your partner. It’s been a while since he’s slept over at this house, so you were properly excited to finally have him all to yourself. But before the cuddles and kisses could begin, he walks over to where you’re seated at your oak wood vanity, body language you’ve never seen before in your man before now.

You turn to face him, taking in all his pretty glory— hair down and damp from his shower. You note his clothing, smiling shyly at the just-a-tad-bit-tight tank top that exposes his defined arms. And in true Satoru fashion, his lounge sweats that seem a bit too pricey to be simply for sleeping. And as much as you want to take in the glorious sight of him, you refrain as you take note of the way he rubs at the back of his neck and leans against the wooden vanity, facing you with an unreadable expression. He looks so.. conflicted?? And that piques your curiosity and worry.

“Oh, my.. someone’s stressing,” Satoru is comforted by the sound of your voice as you try to lighten the mood. You can tell, as he’s always been an expressive person. “What’s the matter?”

At your question, he sucks in a breath between his teeth, as if unsure what to say.

“Just.. you’re not gonna believe what the hell happened today. I- I didn’t tell you I was doing this, because I didn’t think you’d approve—“

“Satoru…” you warn in a low tone, though you were really just hoping that he hadn’t gotten himself into any unexpected trouble.

“Hey, I didn’t even explain yet! It isn’t even bad, really,” his body goes back to his usual animated way, which relives you. “It’s just.. I met the kid.. his kid. I found him.”

The words were so bland out of context. But it takes nothing for you to connect the dots. Despite this, your voice still calls out, hesitant,

“You… you talking about fushiguro’s kid?”

Your eyes go wide in shock when the man nods his head, and you stand up.

“Satoru Gojo, you went looking for him?” You ask in disbelief.

“Listen, it didnt go as bad as you’re thinking it did!” He raises his hands up defensively, “I swear, I really just wanted to meet the kid, but turns out he’s like, super strong. I can feel it.”

“Who cares?? What the hell were you gonna tell him, huh? That you killed his father?” You hissed, eyes still widened in shock.

“That’s just the funny thing—“

“It’s not funny!”

“No no, I mean,” he begins to backpedal before he pauses, chuckling to himself and wiping a pale hand down his face, much to your dismay. “Baby, please, listen to me when I say this.” He sighs, taking your hand. You weren’t upset at him, and he knew that. You weren’t just surprised by his uncalled for antics, like usual.

“I’m listening.” you pout, looking up into the bright eyes of your man. His hand squeezed yours and he sighs.

“He didn’t care.” He states, sounding just as surprised as you’re about to be.

“…what? So, you told him.?” You squint.

“No no, I was going to, but, before I could even say the man’s name he just straight up said that he didn’t care. According to him, he didn’t even know him all that well. He never saw him, and doesn’t care to, and he told me that he isn’t interested in whatever he has going on. He’s completely stoic.” Satoru explains the story, passionately shocked as if it was just the most mind boggling thing in the world.

You’re surprised too, unable to believe that a boy so young could be so… cutthroat. And about his own parents. Though, you took into consideration the circumstances between the two.

Though, if you were being honest, you didn’t really care much about the zenin either. More focused on the young boy.

“Well, where is he now? Is he in school? Does he have a home? Oh my goodness, how old is he now?”

Your questions don’t surprise Satoru, as you’re always one to worry too damn much about others.

“The kids fine.. he’s hellbent on being independent. And, if I’m not mistaken, he lives with someone. I heard a young girls voice when I was walkin’ away. A… sister maybe—“ he ponders, and you gasp, distraught.

“Oh, my goodness..” you press a hand to your heart, “Satoru, you have to do something. I mean, how old is he? About.. 6? That boy needs some stability. And if he does have a sister, so does she—“ you state firmly, and Satoru sighs.

“Honey, I’m sure they’re fine. He’s a tough kid.”

“Yeah. A kid, ‘Toru. Just because he’s “strong” and has some sorcerer ability, does not mean he’s safe. A lot of kids get their abilities at a young age. Including me.” You lift a brow, tilting your head knowingly. “And you. And that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need a… a figure, in his life.”

Satoru takes in your words, gnawing the inside of his cheek.

At his silence, you sigh and lean in, kissing his cheek and whispering against it.

“The least you can do is check up on him… like you did today. Get to know him a bit more, and about his situation, you know? Take him to the park, the arcade— ice cream, something, just—“ you sigh, and you feel the familiar weight of his hand sliding gently up your back to gently rub at your shoulder, as a touch of reassurance.

“Okay, oookay, my dear,” he hushes you with his words, trying to soothe your ramblings. “Always so passionate, my love.” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your head. Then your nose. Then your lips before pulling back with a smile.

“I’ll keep an eye out for him, alright? I’ll kidnap him if I have to. I’ll be totally subtle about it, too.” He grins.

“Yeah..” your brows furrow and your expression drops, “why do I feel like you’re lying?”

He simply laughs again and scoops you up into his arms, peppering your face with kisses. Your cheek muscles tighten as your smile slowly grows at how much it tickles. You hug him back, knowing you’re stuck in the sorcerer’s grasp (not that you’re complaining) for the rest of the night.

You hum in delight, closing your eyes. You know your man will make the right choice.

September, 2007. Present day.

The rain continues to pour, thick raindrops slapping at each and every window pane. You and Satoru are sat on the couch, facing a tiny Megumi fushiguro who sits just angled from the couch, nursing a cup of hot chocolate, clad in some fresh new clothes that were just a bit too big for him. They were the smallest of your clothes that you could find and allow him to wear until his clothes were finished drying in the laundry room.

“…I guess I forgot my house key at school. Tsumiki’s at a sleep over, and I don’t know anyone else.”

You squint your eyes as you listen intently to the boys explanation as to why he has arrived here so abruptly. Such a coincidence that Satoru had given him the address just yesterday whilst on their little mochi excursion. You also can’t help but realize just how right Satoru was when he told you that Megumi is very nonchalant and stoic, unless he’s bickering with the older man.

“Man.. I’m sorry the days has been so hard on you. You know, you’re more than welcomed to stay here until the rain lets up!” You smile, resting a hand on satorus knee and patting it slightly, a silent cue to get him to add on.

“Of course! You’re welcomed here whenever ya want! The three of us will get along just well!” He smiles, animated and genuinely excited to have the new, tiny company.

“When the rain lets up tomorrow, we can head to the school and see if your key is there.

Megumi’s face shifts from blank to annoyed in a second.

“That’s just the thing..” he grumbles, “it’s Friday.”

For a second, the words don’t really make sense, until you think hard. They’re out of school.

“Oh, shit. School’s out for that little renovation period in the city, yeah?” You turn to Satoru. A small part of the city was closed for some slight improvements in the streets, meaning every building within that vicinity is meant to be closed for the time being.

“Oh, you’re right..” Satoru trails off. “And that’s supposed to be for—“

“The month.” The bundle of annoyance frowns harder. Both you and Satoru share a look.

“A month, huh.. ? surely your sister will be back by then, yes?” He asks, and Megumi freezes.

“Riiiight?” Satoru presses again, and Megumi huffs, dipping his head almost in shame.

“No…”

“No?” You question, “I thought she was just at a friend’s house?”

“I lied… she’s out the country for an exchange program. She’s staying for a quarter, and won’t be back until November.” He mumbles quickly, head still dropped. “Sorry.. I didn’t think this would happen.”

Your mouth drops open in shock, and you glance between Satoru and the smaller boy.

“Wh, what was the plan while she was gone?” You question. Who the hell was taking care of those two??

“Hm? What do you mean? Just the usual..” he lifts his head, face still a bit pouty in embarrassment. “Go to school, come straight home.”

“—alone? That’s extremely dangerous. What about food? Bills? Fucking, basic hygiene?” You question harder, and the other two can sense your growing frustration at the situation.

“I mean.. I eat at school..” he states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, but he never realized how bad it sounded coming out of his own mouth. You feel your heart sink at the ridiculous idea that this boy and his sister were surviving off of nothing but school lunch. You didn’t know much about Toji fushiguro, or the woman he married, but what you did know was that no child deserved to starve and go hungry. Not when it could be prevented.

You look to Satoru, and to your relief, his face reflects the seriousness of the news.

“So, you’ve been scraping by.. how?” Satoru questions.

Megumi shrugs, suddenly not feeling too keen on drinking the hot chocolate you’ve prepared for him.

“Tsumiki usually deals with that stuff.”

“So what was the plan now that she’s away?”

There’s a slight pause, and the beat of silence is all you need to know before you grip Satoru’s bicep and give him a pleading look. He soothes your worried look with a kiss to the head before facing Megumi.

“Kid, where’s your sister?” Satoru asks, and the boy’s brows furrow.

“Some American school…” he mumbles, thinking hard. “New York, i believe. Other than the education, she wanted to find a better paying job. So that when she comes back, we’ll be set for the year.”

“Alright. First thing tomorrow, I’m getting on a plane and heading over there.” He states firmly, and you nod in agreement right along with him.

Megumi is surprised at just how… casually he could up and buy a plane ticket over seas. Was this dude made of money?

“I’m bringing her back, and it isn’t up to discussion as to where you two will be staying from now on.” Satoru stands from his spot beside you, immediately reaching into his back pocket to pull out his phone, typing furiously. He’d probably skip a day of class again, to which you’d have to make up an excuse for him to your teachers for the umpteenth time.

Megumi’s eyes follow Satoru as he bustles out of the room before shifting back to you.

There’s nothing but silence between the two of you for a moment. With the exception of the continuous rain from outside the home. Tiny nails scratch at the porcelain mug, almost nervously before he sets it down on the coffee table. You watch Megumi swallow as he gathers his next words, and as you take in his body language, you note that this is the most expressive he’s been since you’ve met him.

“Does that.. am I really staying?” He questions, and you’ve never seen him look so confused. Brows furrowed in pure disbelief.

You hum, nodding, “Satoru and I have made up our minds. You’re six, Megumi. Scraping by, it’s.. it’s no way for a boy like you to live. Your sister may be in a bit of a shock when she finds out, but I’m not backing down on this. I will not, in good conscience, let you and your sister stay alone.”

He continues to stare, as if he still didn’t believe you. And maybe he didn’t.

You sigh, standing up and approaching the longer chair he’s sat in and crouch down to his level.

And god, does Megumi hate it when people try to get on his level. To try and understand him, like they could ever understand whats going through his mind. As if anyone knows.

But the way you do it… he doesn’t feel the arrogance in the position from you, compared to other people. It doesn’t stop him from continuing his frown, but he feels more inclined to pay attention to what you’re about to say. Because… your eyes show no signs of deceit. Which is what Megumi looks for the most.

“Megumi…” you trail off.

“—Why?”

You go to speak, but he beats you to it. And you don’t need to ask again to understand his question.

“Because… because I care. We care, Satoru and I. Maybe we weren’t the best of friends with your father. And no, we don’t get anything out of doing what we’re doing for you. But who the hell cares when you’re living in a beat up home somewhere, Megumi? We want you safe.”

And it’s about as simple as that. You cared. And it seems Megumi excepts that answer.

He watches as you smile at him and move your hand up to ruffle his hair. He doesn’t flinch away— but there is a burning behind his eyes and an ache in his tiny heart that he can’t seem to explain to himself as it’s happening.

“I’m so sorry, Megumi.. for the way things are. But Satoru and I are gonna make it better, yes?”

He feels your hand slide from his spiky hair and to his cheek. The action is confusing until he realizes just how oddly warm they become. Confused, he goes to speak, but feels his voice is constricted, and his nose is nasally.

“Oh, megs..” you giggle a little, “don’t cry.”

Cry?

Was that what he was doing? Hell, he’s pretty sure that the last time he’s ever cried was when he was pushed out of the womb. He’s never cried, and the thought of breaking down in front of a stranger makes him hide his face in his much too large shirt— you giggle, a little louder this time as you scoop him up into your arms in a comforting hug. To which he accepts without any resistance.

“Oh, ‘gumi.. now I’m gonna cry!” You faux weep, pouting. Though the moment was definitely hitting you dead in the feels.

“Who’s cryin’? In here??” You hear from behind you.

Satoru walks up from behind, shock and an amused smile on his face as he watches the scene before him. His own heart aches at the sight of the little boy, but he knows this is a joyful moment rather than a sad one. Megumi was on the right path to living better.

You glance at the sorcerer who smiles, taking a seat on the arm of the couch and gently ruffling the boys hair as he continues to hide his blotchy face into his shirt.

Things were looking to be just fine.

──────

You and Satoru stand in the doorframe of the guest room, watching as Megumi shuffles into the small twin and under the blanket. You pout, leaning against Satoru’s chest as you speak,

“Sorry it’s not the best. We hardly ever use this room.”

To you, the room was probably the blandest in the house. Simply used for emergency. Nothing but a twin bed stuffed into the corner of the room, a cheap nightstand, and a lamp inhabited the space, much to your dissatisfaction. Your priorities is were to 1.) being Tsumiki back. And, 2.) accommodate to the two accordingly. Satoru squeezes your shoulder.

“One step at a time, babe. He’ll be just fine for the night! We two can stay in tomorrow and do some shopping with the card while I’m airborne, yes?” He presses a kiss to your cheek, and the words and touch comfort you.

“That sounds good… Megumi?” You ask.

“Sounds fine.” He shrugs nonchalantly, a huge contract to just and hour ago. “May I sleep now?”

“Oh, of course… here.” You whisper, shutting off the light for a moment. The room is pitch black, completely overcome with darkness for a moment. There’s some slight shuffling to be heard before the room lights up again— a nightlight.

The glow is a soft yellow, and reaches to the center of the room before fading out slightly.

“Ta-da! Think of it as a… welcoming gift.” Satoru chuckles, and you nod, hanging on his arm as you wait for megumi’s reaction.

And of course, he doesn’t. His face is about as blank as a sheet of paper. The silence makes you deflate a bit, smiling nervously and waving it off.

“You’re a big boy now, I know… it’s silly. I can shut it off—“

“No, no— please. It’s nice, thank you.” He says quickly, and moves to fluff out his pillow. Both you and Satoru share a look of excitement and take his pillow-fluffing as a cue to let the boy finally sleep.

“Right… goodnight, Megumi.” You and Satoru whisper in unison, slowly shutting the door.

And now that Megumi is completely alone, finally…

He lets the smile he’s been holding in ono his face, and lets the tears of relief and joy finally fall.

──────

taglist,,

@anything4yoongi @alpha-mommy69 @s4ikoo1 @moonchhu @kianatrg @emryb

#𓆩 gumi’s home !! 𓆪 #jutusu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x fem!reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader fluff #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #jjk satoru #gojo satoru #satoru x you #gojo x reader #megumi x reader fluff #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader

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thanosscross · 2 days ago

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Fake girlfriend, Fake boyfriend, silly! - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x reader

Summary: After your manager plotted a fake relationship between his two biggest signed rappers, you and Seung get very close, as best friends, but tell me this...would friends treat friends like how Seung Hyun treats you?

Warnings: None :)

Whenever you were first asked by your manager to start a fake relationship with a guy from one of his boy groups you were complexed, Not recognizing any K-pop idol named Seung Hyun. The first time met him was out at a meeting with your shared boss, Seung Hyun was secretly excited about meeting you, while he found it irritating that his boss felt the need to fake a girlfriend for him, he liked the idea of having someone as cool as you around.

"Seung Hyun, this is Y/n, she's going to your show girl, Y/n, this is Seung Hyun, also known as T.o.p, he'll be your show boy" You manager stated, after that you two became close, using the excuse of having to make it believable to spend almost every minute you could with each other. While you were close with all of BigBang, you and Seung Hyun just clicked together, often sharing a hotel room whenever you'd tour with him for your collaborated shows or songs. It didn't take long after the announcement of your fake relationship for people to immediately either hate or love it, you weren't a rapper like your fake boyfriend, but you did rap in some of your songs, even having a few verses with him where you rapped together, but your manager liked to utilize your voice more, liking the way it wasn't too high pitched but still feminine and calming. You had been 'together' now for almost a year, getting ready for your first full tour with BigBang, you were nervous but also excited, this was big for you, hopefully.

Waking up in your hotel bed you groaned, stretching your body as much as you could before slowly crawling out of your bed before slipping on one of Seung Hyun's hoodies, you weren't sure what time it was, but the sun wasn't up yet, so you knew it was sometime in the middle of the night. You attempted to fall back asleep, but everything was making you uncomfortable, the airport lost your luggage, so nothing in the room made you feel like home, no pillow, blanket, nothing, just the smell of the half ass detergent the hotel used to wash the linens, standing up for the second time you slowly made you way to the connecting you, knowing beyond the door all four guys were most likely asleep, you contemplated on going on, not wanting to risk waking anybody up, but right as you started to turn around Seung Hyun's words echoed in your head 'Don't worry about some silly pillow, if you need something that reminds you of back home, we're all a door away' Turning to face the door again you slowly twisted the knob, watching as it slowly opened into their dark room, all the lights were off and from the faint glow from your bathroom light you could faintly see where everybody was. Ji-Yong and Seung Hyun shared a bed, and Dae-Sung and Tae-Yang shared the other. You pressed Seung Hyun's hoodie to your lips slowly making your way over to whom you hoped to be your fake boyfriend and best friend "Seung hyun" You whispered, feeling your anxiety start to creep up inside of you as he turned his back to you, forcing Ji-yong to stir as well. It wasn't that you were scared or scared of the dark, but ever since you were a teenager you would have severe anxiety in the dark if you sat too long, so standing in the basically pitch-black room wasn't helping your anxiety with not wanting to wake anybody or being in a new weird place.

Trying to stifle your whimpered you felt your hands start to shake as you tried to wake your friend up again "Seung Hyun please...I really need you" You whimpered quietly, instead of your intended target, Ji-Yong slowly sat up, turning his head around confused letting his eyes focus on you "What's up, y/n? Are you okay?" He asked, you bit your lip, trying to swallow the lump in your throat in your throat, sitting up more due to your silence, Ji-yong grabbed his cell phone using the screen brightness to see your face. Seeing your upset state he frowned, catching on to what you were trying to do, he tried to help you, and eventually after about five more minutes, you finally woke Seung Hyun up. As he woke up he shot you both a nasty glare, not wiping it off of his face until his eyes focused and he saw your shaking frame slightly in the dark, without saying anything Seung Hyun just motioned for you to go back to your bed, following behind you with his pillow under his arm. "I-I'm sorry" You whimpered, holding onto the cuffs of the hoodie sleeves, trying any way possible to calm your raging anxiety "Don't. Just lay down, dalkomi" He whispered tiredly, as he pulled the blanket back for you, for a moment you thought he was going to go back to his bed, but instead he just shut the connecting door before laying down next to you "Don't steal all of the blankets again" He warned before wrapping his arm around you pulling you close to where your head laid on his chest, his fingers caressing your spine as you rested your hand on his chest, the more he moved his hand on your back the more you could feel the anxiety slipping away and the tiredness starting to slip in. It didn't take long before Seung Hyun felt your slow relaxed breaths, and the way your hand barely rested on his chest anymore.

You both woke up with a startle, your bandmates standing in your room cooing with their phones out "Sooo cute!" Dae-sung cheered as Seung Hyun groaned slamming his head under the pillow, you just shot them all a tired confused look "Come on Lovers! We have an hour until rehearsals!" Tae-yang reminded as he placed two coffees down on the table, before ushering the others out. Tiredly you turned to look at Seung Hyun who was still hiding under the pillow, you absent-mindedly traced your nails up his back "Aein...handsome, come on" You called sweetly, it wasn't odd for you to call each other pet names, you were actually quite flirty with each other even outside of pretending to be together, you weren't sure about Seung Hyun, but you just liked the way you clicked with him, and you liked the way he'd blush anytime you'd call him into another room by calling him Aein. You watched as he slowly lifted his head "Do we have to?..I'm comfortable" He complained, you just laughed offering him a sympathetic smile as you patted his back "Yep, we have to, now come on, handsome" You replied before climbing off of the bed going towards the large costume bag your manager had dropped off earlier "ooo We're going to look hot, Aein" You cooed as you opened the black bag, seeing the deep red fabrics of a suit and dress, on top of other things, giggling as every outfit was coordinated together, Seung Hyun moved to where you stood smiling "You're going to look amazing" He agreed, you blushed slightly as you pulled out your first outfits, handing the suit to Seung Hyun before you disappeared into the bathroom. After a few moments you both called out "Aein?.." "Dalkomi?" Giggling you opened the bathroom door stepping out "Zip me up?" You asked playfully, he walked over, carefully placing his hands above your waist to hold the fabric of the dress, zipping the zipper up and clasping the small latch he smiled "Tie this damn thing for me?" Seung Hyun asked, playfully pouting as he motioned to the black tie "Of course, handsome" You teased tying the tie effortlessly. As you pulled away you both stopped, staring into each other's eyes before hesitantly pulling away, what was that?

As the show started you stood in the center of the boys, the smoke machines layering a thick smoke over the floor of the stage, as you all dispersed you waited for your cue to start singing. You were having fun, completely forgetting all about your moment with Seung Hyun until Fantastic Baby, you had sat down more to the back of the stage to watch considering you weren't singing and weren't required to preform currently, As soon as Seung Hyun started his first verse he made his way to you pulling you to your feet as he rapped, bringing you close to him before finishing, nodding his head along to Ji-Yong, smiling as he followed to chorography facing you, you just laughed at him starting to mimic his movements, he brought the microphone close to his mouth cheering into the mic before moving back to the center of the stage to continue his second verse.

After the song came to an end you smirked hearing you voice layover theirs, the song transitioning into one of your favorites of yours. As you rapped along to it you took notice of Seung Hyun nodding his head along to your words, throwing some of his own chorography in, Seung Hyun rushed over to you, spinning you around before shaking his hips as he jumped around you, obviously having fun with his free time. As the song ended you panting attempting to catch your breath, Ji-yong circling the stage talking to the crowd as you regrouped with Seung Hyun and the others "Fuck it is next, ready for it?" Tae-yang asked, knowing that was the song that required the most interaction and movement between you and Seung Hyun other than Bae Bae and your back dancing with Seung Hyun for Zutter. "I'm already so tired" You mumbled as the track started to play, Seung Hyun just smiled, kissing your cheek as he rushed past, grouping with the guys for the beginning of the song. Other than your small verse towards the end, your main focus during this song was moving with Seung Hyun and the boys, basically bouncing between them all as a long interest.

Whenever the boys preformed If you, you used your opportunity to take a break, sitting down and taking a drink of your water you smiled in awe. You never heard Seung Hyun actually sing often, but you always loved it, you thought it sounded exactly how you manager described your voice. Whenever Zutter came on came on you were proud of yourself, hitting every move and mark perfectly with the music, and even whenever you'd throw you own little moves in with Seung Hyun, he still always knew what to do somehow, you watched as he pointed at you while rapping, you just rolled your eyes as you danced, giggling whenever you felt Seung Hyun press his hips against yours from behind, bouncing his hips with the beat of the music, your face immediately broke out in a blush as you smacked his chest in shock.

Whenever it came to your last song you purposely saved the most sexual and vulgar for last, you liked the chorography a lot, liking how confident it made you feel as you slid on to your knees at the end of the stage, bouncing on your knees for a moment as you sang, letting yourself slowly fall back you slid back arching your back away from the cold stage surface, silently thanking the spandex shorts under your dress, your head arched just enough to see Seun Hyun running his hands up his body and neck, mimicking your song from his spot at the far with the other boys. As the song ended you stayed were you were, waiting a moment for Seung Hyun to make his way helping you to your feet "That move was new" He stated on your walk back "You think the boss is going to like it?" He teased, you just rolled your eyes "I don't care, I did it for you, Aein" You smiled teasingly watching his face go red, as you all made your way to the end of the stage you smiled, standing on your mark on the platform waiting for the boys to reach theirs before you posed, you immediately kneeled down, using your hands to stabilize yourself Seung Hyun moved forward, pressing his fingers to your cheeks for you, causing you to giggle as the bass to Fantastic Baby played one last time before you all made your way towards the exit of the stage. As you approached the mark you slowed down, blushing brightly whenever Seung Hyun's hand quickly touched your ass, you turned around pretending to storm off stage, Seung Hyun looked towards the ground one last time before winking and running after you.

As you got off stage you were a blushing mess, Seung Hyun quick to find you, a bright smile on his face "I knew you'd be amazing! That's why you're T.O.P Best friend" He said proudly, never noticing your face falling as he called out your real title.

Right..Best friend

---

Ooo we love a slow burn with a fake relationship concept PLUS a clueless but cocky Choi Seung Hyun AND the rest of the band loving you? I dunno about you lovelies, but this gal likes a lot.

Taglist!!

@ag022123

@acehasmyheart

@heartz4rubyy

#thanos x reader #choi su bong x reader #squid game #squidgame #top x reader #thanos squid game #squid game thanos #choi seunghyun #t.o.p x reader #choi seung hyun x reader #t.o.p bigbang #top #tech #t.o.p icons

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norikuna · 5 hours ago

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THE BOLTER ★ naoya zenin

prologue ⋆ ★ whoever said 'love at first sight' was lying, this is more like loathe at first sight. unfortunately, it seems like you and naoya zenin are stuck in the same boat together.

but at least the two of you can put on a great show.

pairing ⋆ ★ naoya zenin x reader genre tags & warnings ⋆ ★ afab!reader, arranged marriage, enemies/rivals, first meetings, outdated views on marriage and wives, public consummàtion, éxhibitionism, voyéurism, ooc naoya to a point but he's still a massive jerk, aphrodisiàcs, mild overuse of bloody/fruit symbolism, oràl (f. receiving), reader pushes naoya into a koi pond, gojo cameo (he wants to go home 😱)

word count ⋆ ★ 9k a/n ⋆ ★ i watched my lady jane 😭 could be a part two to this, or series of husband!naoya but idk...🤷‍♂️

"Stop fidgeting. You look like you're about to bolt any second," Naoya mutters, his voice low, biting through clenched teeth. Sharp, amber-glazed eyes slide sideways to lock onto you, dark brows pulled together in irritation. He's still got that plastic smile in place for the elders, a façade of civility that's only skin deep.

You meet his gaze with a smile that could cut glass, all sweet and syrupy, the kind of smile a bride's supposed to wear. Serene, demure, perfect. But you know better, and so does Naoya Zenin.

Oh, how I wish I could just walk right out of here, you think, lips curling just a fraction. You can barely keep the sneer from slipping through. "Well, I'm looking for the nearest exit," you murmur, barely above a whisper, voice as sweet as honey, "All I can smell is that stupid cologne of yours, and it's making me sick. Did you seriously bathe in it, or something?"

You can see the flush violently flash over peach-toned skin, first his cheeks, and then the tips of ears. Naoya's fingers twitch, hidden beneath the voluminous green sleeves of his haori, betraying his irritations. You can tell he's just dying to throttle you right about now.

"No wonder your clan sold you off like a broodmare," he hisses, venom dripping from his words, sickly sweet with malice, "I bet they couldn't wait to get rid of you."

You heroically bite back the urge to stab him with something sharp. You know it would have been so easy, to have a blade hidden in the folds of your robes. God, it would feel so good to shove it right between his ribs.

Instead, you take a delicate step forwards, sandals clicking softly on the polished floor. The attendants bustle behind you, their soft paces blending with the thick air that's rich with incense, pine, and the sweet smell of roasted chestnuts.

"How sad that Naobito Zenin had to buy a wife for his youngest son. Desperation really doesn't suit you, Naoya," you keep your tone placid and amiable, "Though, let's be honest, most things don't really look good on you."

You can feel Naoya bristle next to you, the faintest tremour in his posture. It feels nice to have struck a clean crack through his iron-clad composure. Victory tastes so sweet.

Without missing a beat, Naoya slides his hand over yours, the picture of practiced, marital tenderness as the two of you approach the threshold of the feast hall. All eyes are on you now, the guests straightening in anticipation. But the slender pads of his fingers are pinching at the flesh of forearm, sharp enough that they would be leaving an impression.

You wrinkle your nose, fighting the urge to wince. His grip is painful, and even though you want to pull away, you're not giving the moron the satisfaction of hearing you gasp.

"Yes," Naoya murmurs, too charming to be sincere, his voice dripping with false affection, "And how sad that out of all the mouthy, insufferable wenches in the world, I got saddled with you."

"Well, someone's mad," you sigh melodramatically, lowering yourself onto the cushions at the head of the table, folding your legs beneath your copious layers of silk, "Stay mad. And ugly."

Your new husband scoffs, sinking beside you, as his long limbs stretch out with lazy grace before crossing them. He looks far too comfortable for your liking. You wish someone had scattered tack needles under him, just to watch him yelp.

You watch quizzically as Naoya reaches across the low table, drawing a slice of pickled radish from the porcelain bowl. You watch, blinking, curious even as well-manicured nails balance the slide between elegant fingers.

He just flings it at you. The sodden radish hits you square in the forehead, the cold and wet slice dropping into your lap with an unsatisfying plop!

Bitch.

See, you already had been having an awful day. The kind that dragged you through the mud and left you feeling as though you had been drowned in your own perspiration.

Trudging through the gates of the Zenin estate, as the sweltering summer heat drowned you in sticky humidity. The estate was sprawling, its grandeur suffocating — all sharp angles, and lacquered panels of wood. Meticulous gardens designed less for beauty, rather for flexing obscene amounts of wealth.

The Zenins did not lack for wealth, that was for certain. But taste? Subtlety? Humility? Those were luxuries that they couldn't seem to afford. Whoever said money couldn't buy class had clearly been familiar with the big three clans of the jujutsu world.

It wasn't just the heat. It wasn't just the estate. It was all this, from this stupid contract to the commitment, to your life here. Your new home.

The summer heat clung to you, heavy and wet, like a damp cloth draped over your shoulders, sapping any energy you had left.

Eventually, you'd given up entirely on the elegant cushions and carved chairs of your new quarters, opting to morosely plant yourself cross-legged on the cool, polished floor. It wasn't graceful, but at least it was comfortable.

Attendants fluttered around you like busy little bees, arms laden with swathes of silk and intricate jewellery in shades of forest green. They moved in perfect sync, as though their every motion was rehearsed for the new bride. And you, well, you were supposed to sit still, look pretty, and wait for whatever nonsense came next.

But fuck that. Proper propriety be damned. The heat had you feeling too raw, too suffocated. So, you had been stripped away from the layers of heavy silk and ceremonial robes. Left in nothing but a thin, creamy-white cotton yukata. It hung loosely from your frame, clinging to your skin in the oppressive humidity, beads of sweat gathering at the back of your neck.

And just as you had settled into the most brief, fragile sense of peace, the soft groan of a sliding door shattered it all. A servant stepped inside, shoulders stiff as their eyes fell upon you. As though they could sense your sour mood.

"He will see you now," the servant said, eyes lowered, voice tight, "In the gardens."

He. Naoya Zenin. Your soon-to-be husband, for the evening's grand spectacle and festivities.

A pit began to twist uncomfortably in your stomach. You had never even met this man. Hell, you didn't even know what he sounded like, nor what he looked like up close, what kind of man he really was.

Everything about this arrangement had been handled by clan elders, who were more concerned with keeping up appearances than with any personal connection. Their mouths were always full of flowery promises, and backhanded compliments, none of which did anything to ease the sinking feeling that made a home in your gut.

The reviews on Naoya Zenin though? Those were more consistent than the elders' pleasantries.

Arrogant? Check. Irritating? Beyond measure. A man with a superiority complex the size of the country? Absolutely, what a shock. Naoya Zenin was the youngest son of one of the wealthiest clan heads in Japan, so entitlement practically ran through his veins as though it were his birthright.

The one thing everyone seemed to agree on, though? The man was handsome, fine-featured. Of course, they'd say that to placate you, as though a pretty face could somehow excuse all the other bullshit. But you weren't quite in the market for a glorified Adonis as a trophy husband.

With a resigned sigh, you trudged forward. Each step felt heavier than the last, the sound of your sandals echoing on the winding stone path that stretched out before you. You tried to ignore the fatigue that settled in your bones, the faint feeling akin to that of a medieval monk walking towards his doom.

Your first impression of Naoya Zenin? You didn't like his voice.

"Weren't you meant to be here an hour ago?" He's calling, tone smooth and melodic. But there's a languid air about it, and whiny. You don't know nor understand why, but it makes your skin crawl.

You narrow your eyes at the back of his figure, perched lazily on a rock, legs swinging carelessly over the edge. Naoya's broad back is turned to you, gaze fixed on the iridescent koi gliding lazily through the pond beneath him. He hadn't even bothered to look at you yet.

First impressions were everything, so you did your damn best to hold back from snapping, "My apologies. There was a...delay," you bite out, your fingers tugging impatiently to tighten the sash of the thin robe around your waist.

You had half a mind to just turn around and leave, but no, it just wasn't in your lucky cards. Not when your family had practically signed you away to the Zenin clan, forevermore and all that nonsense.

Naoya lets out an exaggerated sigh, all long and drawn-out, as though your presence is enough to inconvenience him. His head tilts lazily, turning just enough to throw a half-lidded, uninterested stare in your direction.

"Well? Don't just stand there. I'm not going to bite."

The restraint it took to not roll your eyes could have won you sainthood. Still, you refrained. Barely. You hoped your expression conveyed what you really wanted to say. I am mentally chasing you around with a big stick and a hornet of wasps, but I'm refraining because I'm polite and I was raised right.

Reluctantly, you step forward, just as the wind picks up while you move. Sweeping the light cotton fabric around your legs in a way that made you wish for anything but these damp robes. You certainly don't miss at how Naoya's golden eyes widen in mild interest, tracing every curve of your figure. Warmth flushing down the back of your neck, and not just from summer's golden glare.

But then, your betrothed scowls, "Too good for the Zenin robes, are you?"

You cross your arms over your torso, the motion defensive. Naoya's gaze suddenly drops again to the pushed swell of your chest, lingering far too long.

"It's hot."

Naoya suddenly shrugs, all primped arrogance in his charcoal-gray and forest-green robes, like some ashen leaf springing obstinately out of cold winter ground. "Whatever. You seem adequate, I suppose," he flicks a hand dismissively, "I don't care for this attitude of yours, but you'll do for everything else."

"I'll do?" Your voice pitches an octave higher, incredulous, "What the hell does that mean?"

Naoya begins counting on long, slender fingers. As though he's sizing you up, checking boxes, "What do you think I mean? Just the usual requirements for a wife. Pleasing to the eye, which you are, I'll admit. But it's much less pleasant when you aren't smiling."

You spot a loose stone skittering on the mossy earth. You could absolutely brain him with that, right here. Right now.

But the man doesn't let up, "And of course, childbearing hips." He's waving a dismissing hand, "Well, clearly, I can see you have those. Tch', don't make that face. And a bit of wit for conversation — I refuse to marry an empty airhead. I mean, can you imagine?" Naoya's laughter is sharp, all glossy red lips over sharp fangs, "Docile, obviously. I think that might need some work, but — hey!"

Before you could think better of it, your hands are on him. Pushing, shoving, your frustration boiling over as your palms meet the flat, toned planes of his chest. The satisfaction of sending him tumbling back, of stupid, pretty golden eyes going wide as he flails, arms caught in the air. Priceless.

And then, with a splash! He disappears into the pond, the koi scattering like flashes of colour. Your betrothed surfaces slowly with a snarl, water dripping from his golden head of hair, plastering it flat. A piece of moss hangs awkwardly to Naoya's template as you stand over him, chest heaving.

"Harebrained! Idiotic! Empty-headed! Shallow, pompous, arrogant!" The words tumble from you, reckless and from the depths of your sudden-found hatred, "Rocks for brains! No wonder no-one wants to marry you, with that stupid, backwards nonsense. And your voice, it's stupid! And, well, there's clearly a lightbulb off in that oversized skull of yours. Don't you ever, ever say things like that to me again!"

For a moment, Naoya says nothing. He's only staring up at you with his mouth pressed into a thin, flat line. You realise in that brief silence, that you betrothed bears an unsettling resemblance to an angry, speckled hyena.

Rather than offer a rebuttal, or heaven forbid, an apology, a sodden arm shoots forward, fast as a viper, clamping around your ankle. And the world tilts.

"Don't you dare! Wait — no!"

He yanks at you hard, and with a sharp yelp, you tumble straight into the water beside him. Cool, refreshing water slaps your face as you sputter, wiping thin algae from your cheek. The koi scatter, unimpressed by human antics.

You're gasping as the chill must surely be soaking through your thin yukata, giving...quite the view to the eyes of others. No wonder Naoya's suddenly smirking, and you can see rosy lips part to deliver some awful, sleazy comment.

"Not a bad sight, don't you — mmph!"

You've scooped as much water as your hands can manage, flinging it straight at his face — watching as Naoya Zenin splutters, pinning you with a glowering stare that could cut through glass.

You were still simmering hours later.

The sun had already shifted, sinking deeper into the afternoon, but the humidity clung to the air like a thick and suffocating blanket. You were scowling at absolutely nothing, letting the maids drape you in layers of deep, emerald silk that shone like fresh leaves after the rain. Edges embroidered with delicate golden vines and flowers that twisted around your limbs.

You barely felt the soft hands of the maids as they pressed cool, rosewater-soaked pads to your cheeks and the crook of your neck. Idly wondering if they had plucked out every last remnant of pond water and scum that clung to your hair.

One of the older woman, with a sharp and matronly face, walked up to you, a platter balanced gently in her hands. At first, you didn't even register what she was offering, too preoccupied with nursing your own misery. But the food looked absolutely perfect, delicate rolls that had been sliced so neatly they could have come from an Imperial painting.

You raised an eyebrow, "Shouldn't I eat after the ceremony?"

The woman gave a knowing glance to the other maids, but then her gaze flicked back to you. Careful. "This will help with your appetite for the latter half of the ceremony," as though she were choosing each word precisely, "It is...custom. Master Zenin would also partake in this tradition. It will make things easier."

Easier, huh? You stare at the plate again, and not that you didn't appreciate it, but if they really wanted to settle you nerves — they could have offered you a rolled blunt. But sure. Why not?

With a little sigh of resignation, you popped one of the sweet rolls into your mouth. The flavour was fresh, like citrus. Something like yuzu, perhaps? There's a hint of honey, and an odd aftertaste that lingers at the back of your throat, a touch bitter. You narrow your eyes, for it is something like ginseng.

You take a second roll, letting the smooth cream slide along your tongue, as you click your teeth. Well, if it would calm you down enough to keep you from throwing Naoya Zenin off the temple stairs, then...sure. You'd eat the whole damn platter if it meant you would be able to fight the urge to punt bricks at him.

And so, this circles you back to the beginning your sordid tale. The rooms buzzing with voices, and clinking porcelain in celebration, but somehow, all you can focus on is the man sitting beside you.

Naoya's practically been ignoring everything on his plate, pushing food aside with passive disinterest. Meanwhile, you've been aching for a good meal, your hand moving to scoop another bite of soft, fragrant rice. The nobles and elders have been weaving their way around, painted with polite and practiced smile — an endless cycle of verdant-draped Zenins, crimson-robed Kamos, and more clans all looking to suck up to Naobito Zenin.

There's another man, swathed in a vibrant, dark blue. You watch as Naoya stiffens as the white-haired man doesn't bow, just shuffles forward. As though his presence is more of a courtesy rather than a display of genuine well-wishes.

"Gojo," your husband is muttering, petulant all of a sudden.

The white-haired man grunts, blindfold wrapped around the upper half of his face, "Zenin." You swear you can feel his eyes on you, and there's something unnerving about the way he moves through the room, as though he can see much and more, without nary a glance.

So, that was Gojo Satoru.

You feel someone tug at your sleeves, and Naoya's golden eyes are still fixed on Gojo's broad back with a sharp, defensive gaze, "Stop looking. It looks stupid as fuck. And he'll still see."

You blink, wrenching your arm away from his cold grasp, "How? He's got that —," you gesture to your eyes, "That thing on."

Naoya scowls, fangs poking underneath curled lips, "Trust me. He can see better than anyone here."

"Is that why you're scared of him, or something?"

Naoya's jaw tightens, and he reaches for a platter of fruit, a pomegranate globe falling into the palm of his hand, "I am not. Tch', watch your words."

"Or what? You'll push me into the koi pond?" You snipe, watching him, fascinated despite yourself. His hands are elegant, precise, even. Tearing into the fruit with a casual brutality that makes something flicker oddly deep in your chest.

The juice, rich and ruby red, drips lazily down his fingers, following the slope of his knuckles. Staining the fine silk of his sleeves in a losing fight. As though the fruit had been desperate to remain whole before Naoya split it.

How strikingly brutal to witness. There's something almost obscene about the mess he makes, how the juice is pooling thinly on the silk. How the sweetness of the fruit is ruined by the way it's overpowered.

You think your new husband is the kind of man who would see a dangerous sort of beauty in the way he wrecks things.

But Naoya has surely noticed your stare. The corner of his rose-teak mouth twitches as he looks up from his conquest, fingers still dripping with thin crimson.

"Something wrong, wife?" He's asking, voice slick with amusement. You faintly wonder why there's a low buzz in your ears.

The question is sharp-toned, but there's something underneath his smooth voice that almost dares you to continue watching. As if he's aware of the effect of proxy brutality. You want to scowl, to look away, to prove that you aren't transfixed by the bleeding mess of an awful man.

"Nothing at all," you reply, and voice is colder than you'd intended — all to mask the faint trace of fascination that lingers in your tone.

Naoya glowers at you, lazily lifting his hand to capture the blood-red streak with the tip of his tongue. The faintest trace of wine marking the curve of his jaw. What an oddly intimate gesture, one that shouldn't be nearly as captivating as it is.

With a casual flick, he's breaking off a piece of the pomegranates flesh. White and succulent, with the little arils clinging to the flesh like jewels.

"Be a good wife, and open your mouth."

You glance down at the fruit in his hand, irritation flickering at the back of your throat. Licking acidic flames in your chest, "I'm not hungry anymore."

Naoya doesn't even bat an eye, his gaze already bored as he leans back, unimpressed by your resistance. Infuriatingly arrogant in his manner, "Don't want people thinkin' there's something wrong with my bride. Go on, open."

With a sharp, deliberate sigh, you part your lips. Heat suddenly coiling tight sinews around your hips. Eyes locked onto his hazy, copper gaze with the slightest flicker of defiance.

Naoya tips the arils into your mouth, and you take the opportunity to nip at his fingers, pointed and sharp. Just enough to make him jerk back in surprise. His eyes narrow, and for a moment, you see conflicted disgust flash across his face.

But the taste, the sweet and tangy burst of juice on your tongue, it catches you entirely off guard. It's blooming across your senses, like the most unexpected pleasure. The tartness of the fruit lingering longer than you'd anticipate. Despite yourself, you almost lean into it.

Naoya's expression tightens as he wipes his hand on the edge of his robes, so irritated. But a flicker of something darker passes across his features. Whether it's annoyance, or loathing, or something else, you cannot tell.

"Better now?" Naoya mutters, voice thick with irritation as though you'd personally dragged him through a field of thorns.

"All thanks to you," you reply, sardonic sugar snapping through your teeth. Wiping the corner of your mouth with a lazy swipe of your thumb, smearing away the fruit's crimson stain.

Naoya's grumbling something under his breath about summoning Ten Shadows to whisk him out of this ridiculous wedding feast. Something far more sharp and acerbic follows, but it's not able to cut through your growing haze.

You're about to respond when his hand — warm, and rough, replaces your own. Thumb pressing against your lower lip with a firm, almost possessive and angry drag. Wiping away the sticky remnants of the juice.

Without thinking, or without fully understanding why, you let your tongue dart forward, brushing the pad of his thumb. A slow, deliberate gaze. Teeth follow, with dull pressure, as you pull the digit just a little further into your mouth.

You can feel the shift almost immediately.

Naoya goes still, the barest hitch of breath betraying him before he yanks his head back like you'd scalded him. But not before you catch the faintest tremour in his grip, or the way his sharp eyes darken. His neck flushes, a telltale searing burst of heat creeping up beneath the golden fall of his hair.

"They give you something before the ceremony?" His tone is off, almost accusing, as he's clearing his throat. Glowering at you, as if you're to blame for the crack in his insurmountable arrogance.

You shrug, fingers brushing the rim of your shallow cup. Letting cool water trickle down your suddenly parched throat, "Yeah. Something 'bout relaxing me. Or making things easier." You frown, a little breathless, wondering why heat coils in your chest, and prickles at the nape of your neck, "It didn't do anything at the time though."

Naoya stares at you for a beat too long, his teeth catching his lower lip. Worrying the plush, pink flesh — dragging a thin, cold hand through flaxen hair, rifling pale green roots.

And then, your new husband's scoffing, "Same here. Not that I need help performing there." His gaze is sweeping over you again, slow and deliberate. His eyes trace the curve of your mouth, the swan-slope of your throat. The heat of his amber eyes make your skin prickle, tugging at something just beneath the surface.

"I think you'll make it easy enough."

Your pulse kicks against your ribs. Eyes snapping to him, ignoring the dull throb low in your groin, and how each breath of air seems so much sweeter and heavier, "Make what easy?"

Naoya's expression wavers, just for a second — enough to give you a glimpse of his own faltering composure. As though he's genuinely fearing that you're that clueless, cocking a dark brow with an edge of incredulity.

"You don't think that platform's there for show, do you?" He's knocking his head back towards the dais behind the two of you. The plush, emerald cushions scattered over velvet drapes that pool at the sides. Ornate and so uncomfortably obvious for all those who have eyes.

Oh. Oh, fuck.

Naoya's metallic eyes glint with triumph, watching the realisation dawn on your features like it's the best entertainment he's had all evening. His lips curling into something that's more of a lion's grin, rather than a smile, "You're not that stupid, are you?"

"I'm not!" You snap, "I just didn't think — I didn't realise, it was going to be...there." You're jabbing a jewel encrusted finger at the platform, not caring which fussy elder sees.

Naoya's grin sharpens, teeth flashing with unrestrained, wolfish amusement. Jerking his chin towards the dias, "Yes. Right there. What'd you think? Some privacy, or maybe, a little mood lighting?

Your scowl hardens like stone, "Well, no. But —"

Your husband sarcastically interrupts you, chopping the air with one hand, "No, no. You're right. Why didn't we think about setting the mood? Lanterns, maybe? Candles, or how about a live string quartet for m'wife just because she said so?"

Your glower deepens, a slow burn crawling beneath your skin. You forgo the water this time, opting instead for the nearest cup of sake. The burn of it sears your throat, a welcome distraction.

"You'd think people would drop this kinda' thing by now," you mutter, swallowing hard as the air seems so much warmer, "It's the 21st century, for god's sake."

Naoya shrugs, the silk of his robes shifting as you can watch a thin drop of perspiration roll into the crook of his neck — you wonder if he's just as affected as you are right now. Wondering who will crack first. "I don't mind watching. Or being watched."

The sake nearly comes back up, "You're obscene."

A soft hum, dark and amused, slips from his throat. Then a finger, his finger, hooks beneath the curve of your jaw. Titling your head towards him with a hardened pressure that feels surprisingly gentle in this hazy state.

"M'wife wants me to take them out instead?" Naoya's voice is a lazy drawl, but there's a dangerous gleam in his amber-shard eyes. Thumb skimming lower, tracing the delicate dip of your collarbone as a shiver prickles down your spine, "Force them all away so I get ya' all to m'self?"

You swallow hard, breath hitching as his hand lingers, "Yeah. Because I'm sure you could take on an entire room of sorcerers. Jus' so we could —"

The corners of Naoya's mouth twitch, his eyes dark with something almost hungry. And jeering, "Just say the word."

Your gaze flickers to the far corner of the room. Gojo Satoru sits there, arms folded across his opulent, oceanic yukata. The head of the Gojo clan looks thoroughly put-out, sandwiched between two elderly women that gossip into his ears. His white hair gleams under the warm lanterns, and you're certain that Six Eyes can catch every word being passed through this room.

"No-one can land a hit on Master Gojo," you murmur, voice slow and syrupy. The heat in your blood feels unnatural, liquid fire curling beneath your skin, pooling low in your belly. Your head is swimming by now, heavy and light all at once.

And there's Naoya's stupid, stupid cologne. Something dark, and wooden. Edged with a sharp spice, clouding your senses and tangling with the sweet, heady ache that builds in your chest. It's all too much, his nail dragging into the tender skin of your neck. Just over your jumping bulse.

The worst part? Your body betraying all rational thoughts, leaning into your husband. To find yourself closer to this man that you do not like. Entitled. Arrogant. The heir to the Zenin clan is fuckin' awful.

"Mhm, perhaps they can all watch then. Stay as I fuck my wife, yeah?" Naoya says, low and quiet. But there's no softness to it, only possession. A claim that crackles at you, sends you hurtling towards no good end.

"You know I don't like you, right?" You breathe, marvelling at how little it would take to close this distance, with nary a care for whose eyes have turned to you now.

A huff of laughter escapes your husband, warm and bitter, "I don't quite like you either." His hands have found the edges of your robes, teasing the silken fabric, and for a moment, Naoya Zenin looks almost thoughtful. Except that priggish smirk never quite leaves his face. His peach-tinged skin flushes darker, and his glassy eyes flicker, "But they wanted a show, right? Wanna' give it to them?"

You don't even wait to consider. Ignoring the protests of the elders, who jump and claim that these things have to be done in all due time, with proper ceremony.

The kiss is fast, furious. Lips crashing into his before the words have fully left his mouth. You taste rich and tangy fruit on his tongue, and it's both maddening, and so sweet, mixing with the sake that's drenched your mouth.

Naoya's faint sound of surprise, the soft grunt as he sinks into the kiss? Hiking a toned arm around your waist to pull you closer as the audience gasps? That's a victory.

You drag your mouth back, letting clingy and cloying strands of slick linger in between your lips. You've been pulled right onto your husband's lap, perched on his emerald, jewel-toned haori. Taking in the sight of Naoya briefly speechless, warm and angrily flushed.

"Not playin' fair," Naoya seethes, "K-know your place, wife."

But you're too far gone now to entertain his bullshit, pawing at the edges of his robes. Swivelling your hips down so you can have some pressure applied where you need it most. Right over there, a thick and solid curve that has the both of you gasping, "M' so, hah, feelin' so faint."

Naoya groans, and curls his fingers over the nape of your neck, forcing you to look down at him from your perched position, "L-listen to me all proper, an' I can fix that."

"Enough!" A sharp voice cuts through the heat between you, splintering like glass shattering on stone. You blink, dazed as dew begins to gather on your lashes, just in time to see a twitching elder standing at the edge of the room, face blotchy red beneath a crown of thinning white hair. He's shaking a bony finger in your direction, pale robes swishing, "Enough of this depravity!"

"There are proper proceedings to this ceremony, to this consummation." His voice is rising, veins straining in his neck as the room is silent, "Not whatever this is!" Waving his hands now, as though his gestures are enough to warrant purification.

You try to muster some level of embarrassment, some shame as the eyes of the room fall on the two of you. But all you feel is a thick ache and thrum of heat still simmering, pulse skipping in your throat. Your lips tingle from where they touched Naoya's, tasting of sake and sugar, and —

Oh. His lips. You glance at your husband, whose mouth is still glossy and swollen from your kiss.

Naoya's barely turned his head towards the outburst. He's already running his hands down your robes, doing his utter best to undo whatever he can. To lave sharp fangs over skin, and leave blooming marks. He's languid, half-lidded, with a wicked spark of amusement dancing in his eyes.

He looks thoroughly unbothered, tongue flicking lazily over his lower lip, "Proper proceedings?" Naoya drawls, the corner of his mouth tilting into a smirk that makes you desperate to catch it, "Isn't a little late for that? Hah, I mean, ya' spiked m'wife and I. How are y'not shocked when she's panting over me like a bitch in heat?"

The elder turns a deeper shade of red, spluttering as he gestures to the raised dais and neatly arranged cushions. You press your lips together to hold back a thin whine. Naoya, having pawed at your ceremonial robes enough, has been sinking teeth over the swell of your breast, making you gasp.

"The platform! The customs and —"

There's a crowd of eyes on you. The elders, the clan heads, the nobles, the sorcerers. All of them, scattered through the room, lingering like ghosts. Some, you think, have left for sanctity. You're not sure when, your mind is still a haze of warmth, and confusion, and lust. Too caught up in the way that Naoya's fingers brush and dig into your waist.

But there are others still here. Stubborn, and not powerful enough to grant themselves leave, and so, they cannot claim the right to exit. You're aware of silent whispers, of the way they lean in and keel over. Faces pinched in curiosity, discomfort, as though you're a prized creature in a zoo that they both hesitate and marvel to look upon.

With no choice but to watch the Zenin heir with his hand on your waist, his new bride of the clan. The future madam that they're now forced to acknowledge.

"N-Naoya," you mumble, tearing your nails into the fine haori. Some desperate hope to expose searing skin to the air, already sweltering in the summer heat, "Can't we jus' -"

Your husbands tuts, pressing a firm finger to your candied lips, "Shh! Gotta' make sure m'silly wife knows how to speak up. So everyone can hear, try again." He sounds almost pained, and you wonder how Naoya Zenin hasn't absolutely lost his mind by now. For you feel as though gauze has been draped over you, casting a veil over your senses.

You hear someone mutter disdainful murmurs, something about a spoiled Zenin brat indulging his good-for-nothin' wife.

You can see the flash of anger, and the promise of blood cross Naoya's face, so you seek to roll your hips against his once more, "Jus' thinkin', y'know," you gasp against his slack jaw, "Why don't we jus' move to the platform? I mean, they wanna see, right?"

Naoya's nodding, sandy hair falling into his eyes, "Hah, yeah. That's right. Wanted a show, and that's what we said we've give, jus' gotta hope you can keep up."

He's sweeping you up, hand tight around your wrist as he pulls you over in a brief stumble, pushing you down over the dais. Over green, plush sheets as he splays you out, "Better like this? Tsk, 'ts for me to decide, not you, wifey. And 'm thinking, I like this view so much more."

You're struck by the sight of Naoya Zenin, and it hits you like a sudden wave. Sharp, and bitter, and so impossible to ignore. It's that feeling again, the way you had stomached the creamy rolls on the platter. The same kind of cloying tang that hits the back of your throat when you swallow too fast. The ginseng, and sweet citrus.

His eyes are still glassy, pupils unfocused, and it's the shimmer of tears clinging to the dark, long lashes framing his eyes that make you pause. Crystalline, fragile. But he's already ahead of you, moving faster than you can think, swatting your hand away with forceful grace, pressing his mouth to the corner of yours.

"You jus' gonna keep lookin' at me?" You murmur, reeling from the searing heat of his mouth. Taking in the sight of mussed golden hair, green roots entirely out of place. The divot of creamy, tanned skin from where his robes have loosened.

Naoya blinks, shaking his head as if he's trying to clear it, "You gotta' tell me where you wan' it first." Lips parting, as if he's suddenly not sure what to say to you, like he's drinking in the sight of you and he can't stop.

He's patting a hand to your chest, cupping the swell in your robes, "I don't know if you wan' me here," and then, he's dragging a hand lower still, hand folded over the thick robes that cover your thighs, "Or, here. Probably got ya' weepin' like a poor, little slut down there."

You scowl back at him, "Watch it, 'm not a slut."

Naoya grins, all wolfish canines, "Wasn't talkin' about ya'. Was talkin' about her." Giving you a loving pat in between your legs, "Thinkin' if I pushed these stupid robes right up, everyone could see you drip right onto my waiting hand."

You gasp, pushing your hands onto his broad chest, groaning as his fingers trail further down. Pulling the silk of your robes up further, so your thigh meets cool air, "Can I request a-anything, then?"

Naoya hums, lips pursing as his brow quirks, mocking even, "Wasn't planning on givin' in to ya' so easily, but just this once. Only 'cause it's our wedding night, don't you think?"

"Wan' your mouth."

You see a flash of something pass over Naoya's face. As though he's warring with himself, some obstinate spirit telling him otherwise, but he shakes his head, almost amused, "Y'know, I should have sent ya' back the minute you pushed me into tha' stupid pool. Shoulda' demanded another one. A wife that isn't so mouthy."

He's chuckling now, splaying your thighs further apart with rough hands, an odd sort of deference painting his fine features, "And now look at what you've got me doin', hey?"

Naoya's tutting at you, shaking his head in faux disappointment when you whine in embarrassment, "This is what you wanted, right? For me to show e-everyone jus' how wet you are. I mean, hah, look at this."

Pinning the thickest part of your silken robes over your abdomen, so your legs were bare, parted so he could slot in-between. Amber eyes almost bewildered as he took in the deep, swollen outline of your glossy cunt underneath flimsy garments, "Sittin' there like this, the entire time?" Naoya whistles low, cold and cutting, "I mean, fuck, ya' can really see everything here."

"Shut u-up," you sputter, hearing your own pulse thrum in your ears, in-between your legs. You barely have a chance to take in syrupy air once more, for Naoya's hand is there, swift and firm, pressing over your mouth. Fingers cool against your skin, it's not harsh. But it's forceful enough to swallow your words, as his eyes light up with that familiar, mocking amusement.

"Careful now, wifey," he's grinning, looking far too pleased, "Ya' don't get to give me orders, 'm gonna be doing you a favour."

Naoya doesn't seem burdened by this, not at all. In fact, if anything, he looks downright pleased, like the sight of your weeping, drizzling cunt before his eyes is a golden opportunity that he intends to savour.

He's got an icy finger sliding over the waistband of your gauzy, flimsy undergarments, toying for a brief second. You can see it in the way his beastly fangs curl into a grin, like he's getting off on the scandal of it all. Of having everyone watch in quiet silence as he suddenly tugs. Hard.

The fabric splits with a squelching hiss, thick and sludgy, as you gasp, feeling the heat throbbing in your pussy swell as the cool air hits where you're most sensitive, "You ass, t-those weren't cheap."

Naoya rolls his eyes, amber disappearing into white, "So?" He's drawling, looking up at you from between your thighs, "What, you think I'm some broke bitch?" He's popping a single, long digit into his mouth. Having swiped a curious hand through your glistening folds, marvelling at the slick, translucent strands that followed him. Tongue flicking over the tip like he's savouring something, "Fuck, you're kinda' sweet. Heh, who woulda' thought?"

You open your mouth to protest, but he doesn't even give you the chance. Not even a mere second to form the words, for his hand is patting your cheek. Leaving something sticky and cool lingering on flushed, warm skin. Your own arousal glimmering in the lantern light, upon your skin, for all to see.

It's as if Naoya's humouring you, and it's almost affectionate. If not for the edge in his voice that makes you tighten your thighs around his shoulders, "Don't worry y'dumb, little head about it. Y'know, shit — almost lost a drop there, you know, you're the future Madam of this clan now, right? Anything you want, you'll get."

And he's giving you a look now — head tilted just so, almost tame. Like a promise wrapped in docility. Almost. If you didn't know of him more, if you weren't already simmering with tampered fury from your first meeting, earlier in the day, you may have been fooled. Might have fallen for the gentle downturn of his lashes, like ink pooling on creamy skin. The slow, deliberate way he puffs a small breath against your glossy cunt. Doing you a favour, indeed.

His grin is all teeth, unapologetically smug, as though he knows what you're thinking. Knows that he's destined to clash with you, to draw proverbial blood and blades whenever it amuses him, but he's got you right where he wants you now. Under him, and splayed wide.

Your waiting cunt pooling sweet juices over his wandering fingers — the sharp tip of Naoya's nose twitching before ducking and brushing through your glistening folds. A satisfied chuckle when you arch your spine, desperate for more friction.

"Not that patient, are ya'?" But you don't think you'd be wrong in assuming that Naoya can't hold out much longer, for the crack in his voice betrays him. That melodic, charming, insolent tone giving way to a deeper rasp, like granite grinding against the earth.

You don't know what comes over you, carding a hand through golden, soft locks of hair. Digging into pale green roots, "Think your audience is gettin' bored?"

Naoya almost, so very almost, purrs at your nails digging into his scalp. Pushing himself into your trembling cunt, letting his tongue paint a thin, long stripe right through your throbbing pussy. Reaching up right to your swollen clit, briefly flicking over it.

And now, Naoya is not a sentimental man. Fuck that, he's never been one for gushing, and roses and nauseating sweetness. But this may very well be the first time that he's ever understood what it means to be pussydrunk.

For he's shooting amber eyes up, to where your expression has twisted, almost blissful and idyllic compared to the frown that's been marring your face all day. He'd hate to say it, but he's almost content as the sweet moans that fall from your plush lips, over and over.

"T-that's good, hah, Naoya, 'm — s-so good," You're cracking an eye open to see your flaxen-haired husband snickering, enjoying how damn sensitive your puffy folds are to his ministrations. Only the mild, quiet shuffle of the elders harkens you to their presence, them bearing witness to the consummation.

"Yeahhh," Naoya drawls, angling one bare thigh so it sits over his shoulder, where his robes have slipped right off, "Good, huh?"

"S-surprisingly."

He pinches at your clit in retaliation, just lightly enough that it sends a jolting sensation through your quivering form, but not enough to bring sheer relief, "Watch your whoreish mouth, wife. Could jus' leave ya' here, high and dry." And Naoya's scowling, but despite himself, still pushing his pulsing tongue to the very apex of your core. The glossy, winking entrance where he meets little resistance from your waiting, gummy walls, "Could jus' leave ya' here, and have you rub one out yourself in front of everyone, so you can get off on your own."

You should be ashamed, flushed and embarrassed at how he's speaking to you. There's brief fantasies running through your mind, of strapping your husband down and taping his mouth so he can stop running it so crudely, but you file the thought away for now, arching your hips further into him. Dragging your sloppy, leaking cunt over his face — something he surprisingly welcomes.

Naoya, who's leaning deep enough in between your thighs for the golden strands of hair framing his forehead have been dampened by your arousal, a darker, sandy shade. Pouty lips covered in sweet, tangy sheen, and sticky from munching at your glossy folds.

"Bet they're all watching you," Naoya grins, with little warning as he slides a slender finger into your cunt, immediately curling it in search of some spot, "Bet they're wishing it was them in m'place. Tastin' you like this."

You can't help the involuntary clench of your walls at his words, and Naoya's eyes widen, lashes blown long enough to kiss his eyelids, "Mhm, you like that. But hey," your husband's pumping determined fingers in and out of your cunt, rummaging and massaging at sticky walls, "You're my wife now. Mine to fuck, they can't have what o-only a Zenin can have."

"Can y-you —" You're writhing now, legs spread even wider and you frankly don't care at this point who can see the light reflect your dripping cunt, "A bit f-faster, hah." Let them see, right?

Isn't that why they had you all dolled up, squirming in your seat during the feast so they could watch you fall so undone? And fuck, Naoya would probably slit the throat of another man who dared breathe what he saw this night, if not for your honour, but for his own ego.

"F-faster? Greedy, tch' and you said you w-weren't a pretty, little, slut!" Each word is punctuated with his fingers falling in a curved arc through the air, smacking down over your drooling pussy. Sending sloshes of slick spattering over his finger tips and the edges of his robes, "That's it. Jus' keep your hips like that."

"Heh, hope the lot of ya' are paying attention because she's p-pretty close right about now."

You don't even know who he's speaking to, or where his words are directed because it's an endless rotation for you now. Circling your hips over Naoya's nose, with him greedily lapping at your cunt, with a satisfied look in your eye that just screams of him planning to hold this over your head for at least six months.

You're practically soaking Naoya's smug, beautiful face, smearing translucent mirror-sheen over his chin, and he's pistoning clever, cruel fingers in and out of your tight heat. Messily toying with your throbbing clit, pulling at and under the hood until you're heaving for gasps of sweet air.

"B-bet you'd feel tighter around my cock, y'know that?" Naoya grunts, lips curling to suck around your clit, "Was plannin' to take ya' right here, but think 'm a bit greedy now, hah. Show's gonna be over soon for these cunts, but 's only jus' beginning for us, wouldn't you say, wife?"

You're certain that he must have left bruises at your hips now, right over your groin as he drags you impossibly close to himself, as though he's determined this public display will leave no question as to whether the heir to the Zenin clan can pleasure his wife to the point where you're practically trembling, and abandoning your loathing of the man, temporarily. Just to squirm as tears hang from the edges of your lashes, gleaming from the stimulation, "Wait, w-wait, 'm gonna, I think 'm gonna —"

There's a satisfied noise from Naoya, almost like one of relief, though you know he would be loathe to admit just how affected he is by your climax.

There's a shooting, fleeting sensation in your abdomen. Tremours of pleasure practically streaming and gushing out of you, as you see little else but stars and streaks across your vision, "S-so good, Naoya, fuck. Fuck! I think 'm still cumming, hah, oh my god."

You're hardly even aware of the gushing slick that sprays across Naoya's face and how briefly stunned he looks, and so utterly pleased with himself as you ride out your high. You certainly don't miss at how he almost doubles over, as if there's an equally tightening sensation in his groin as well, pleasurable just from the sight you spread bare for him.

The look on his face cuts sharp — triumphant, smug in a way that speaks of retribution. As though he's just scored the first point in a game that's only just begun.

Before you can so much blink, dazed from your orgasm as heat continues to throb between your thighs, Naoya's arm tightens around your waist. A quick, practiced motion that pulls you flush against him. He's grinning like a man who's already won, a faint and cooling flush now painting his features in some blissful afterglow.

But then, he kisses you. Rough, messy, sloppy even. His lips are hot and unrelenting against yours, a press of teeth and frustration that's more greedier than anything he's done so far. "There, that's it. Tastin' yourself, aren't you?" Naoya's murmuring, nipping at your lower lip.

His arms shift, and he's scooping you up effortlessly. Tilting your world for the second time that day. You're cradled sideways in a bridal hold, against the broad frame of his chest, as his fingers are splayed possessively over your still bare hips. The bastard doesn't even break a sweat.

"Put me down," You scowl at him, but the recent climax is still painting your breathy vocal cords, lacking the heat you had hoped for.

Naoya's golden eyes glitter with amusement, "Nah. We're jus' getting started, don't you think?"

You instinctively grip his robes for balance, and you can feel your husband's chest rumble with laughter, rich and infuriating, "I'm starting to think this whole hate game is a charade, or a ruse. You actually like this."

"I'm starting to think you want a concussion."

Naoya makes a faux-move to drop you, to have you pile to the floor in jittery limbs and crumpled silks, as you desperately cling to him tighter, "Mouthy woman. Can't stand that. Don't like you at all."

The elders, a cluster of now pale-faced men who look like they've just swallowed their own tongues, gape in stunned silence. Their eyes dart between you, rumbled and flushed — thoroughly compromised with the slick that still runs down your thighs. And the heir of the Zenin clan, whose lips are still moist, glistening faintly.

Your husband's tossing them a lazy, half-lidded gaze over his shoulder, "Well," he says, dragging the word slowly, "Like I said, show's over." His voice drips with mock reverence, "We're going."

"Where?" One of the elders, bold or perhaps just stupid, dares to croak, voice thin and trembling like dry parchment.

Naoya stops, just for a breath. His gaze pins the man, golden eyes cold and dangerously amused. "Where do ya' think?" Words like a blade, dripped in honey, "Our quarters, 'course."

He doesn't wait for a response, doesn't even glance back as he pushes past the screen door with you still cradled against his chest. His momentum sends it rattling against the frame, and the hushed, horrified whispers that follow are clearly music to his ears.

You glance up, your pulse a rapid thrum against your throat as you take in the faces of the nobles you had excused themselves earlier, milling outside. They shuffle uncomfortable, some pretending they have somewhere better to be. Others frozen in a mix of curiosity and thinly veiled disdain.

Gojo Satoru is still there too, leaning against a wooden fixture, his jaw tight, as though he's working through something unpleasant. Glowering and grumbling something about leaving Tokyo for this, about the Zenins having no class as usual, and you get the idea that unlike last time, his blindfolded gaze is sweeping anywhere but you.

You bite back a smile.

"But...but the consummation!" The elder follows through the doors, his voice thick with outrage, "How can we be sure — the ceremony, it requires —"

Naoya doesn't even let him finish. You can feel the smirk against your temple, pressing over the shell of your ear, "I did all this," he's splaying your robes aside, "With jus' my mouth. Think I can do even better with my cock. Don't worry," He drawls, "I'll make very sure it's all handled."

"I'm going home," Gojo Satoru loudly announces, to no-one in particular.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #naoya zenin #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #naoya zenin x y/n #daphworks

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theshiftingwitch · 1 day ago

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"We're limited beings"

Disclaimer: this post is about the law of assumption. If you do not practice / believe in the law, then this post is not for you.

If you know anything about the law of assumption, then you should know by now that its first and only rule is that your thoughts create your reality. You hear that sentence all the time, and most of you understand it to a certain point.

So allow me to be as clear as I possibly can:

• If you believe that there's a certain higher power out there holding your manifestations from you because you don't deserve it or it's not the right time or it's not meant for you... That is a limiting belief.

• If you believe that astrology is anything other than a map you chose for yourself before you came into this reality, and it is dictating how your life will go and if you veer off the path or do anything outside of your chart limitations then the energies of the planets will punish you, that is a limiting belief.

• If you believe that the rules of this reality are the only ones that exist and that they are the reason you are not getting your manifestations, or that you are a limited being in any way, that is a limiting belief.

• If you believe that anything or anyone outside of yourself is the operant power in your own reality, rendering yourself a victim in a reality you chose, that is a limiting belief.

• If you believe that your guardian angels, guardian demons, spirit guides, or anything of the sort are withholding what you want from you because they know better and they are protecting you, that is a limiting belief.

• If you believe that the universe is not giving you what you want despite how many times you have affirmed or visualized or scripted, that is a limiting belief.

I do not claim to know everything about the universe because like most of you I am also here to learn, to grow, and to love. But this is coming from a practicing witch, astrologer, and shifter. Hear me when I say, the only limits that exist in this reality are the limits you put on yourself.

At the end of the day, the only law that matters is the law of oneness. You can practice the law of assumption, you can practice the law of attraction, you can practice the law of detachment... the only thing that matters is truly understanding that you are one with everything. You are one with the universe, you are one with spirit, you are one with God, you are one with your guardian angels and demons and spirit guides... you are the beginning and you are the end.

If you read this post, and you got this terrible lump in your throat or this aching feeling in your chest or this train of thoughts in your mind telling you that this is wrong and this is blasphemy and this is pure bullshit, you have a lot of limiting beliefs to work through. Do your Shadow work. Stop procrastinating, stop waiting for someone to come and hand you your manifestations, stop waiting for someone to come and save you. The only one who's going to save you is yourself because you are the only ONE.

Everything always works out in your favor because you said so.

PS: I'm sorry if this post or others before it sound like I am in a shitty mood or I'm being a bitch, Mars is in retrograde and I'm feeling confrontational and I never back out of a fight. (See what I did there? 😉 ) However I truly apologize if I did come off as anything other than kind and understanding throughout my previous posts including this one. I'm truly, sincerely only trying to help but some people keep pushing my buttons and I hate to see new shifters and new manifesters being exposed to wrong information and losing hope and motivation instead of learning their true power. The retrograde ends in February and I can't promise that I won't be confrontational ever again, I do have a Mars in Aries after all and that bitch is my chart ruler, (or pluto if you're a modern astrologer) but I do promise to take a deep breath before I engage in any sort of conversation whether here or on tiktok. I would hate to give you the assumption that I'm not here for you, or that you can't ask me anything, but truly understand that as long as you are being respectful I will answer whatever question you have and I will debate whatever matter you have on your mind. Thank you for being here, I love you guys so much and I hope you get everything you've ever wanted and more.

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melosliving · 20 hours ago

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IM OBSESSED WITH UR AARON & KELVIN BLURBS,, PLS KEEP IT UP, UR WRITING IS AMAZINGGG !! ❤️❤️.

just wanted to say thank you for all the love I’ve been receiving ! It means so much to me, may god keep blessing y’all and y´all mamas ! ❤️❤️

aaron pierre & kelvin Harrison jr x actress!reader

Variety’s actors on actors

The bright lights of the studio shone down on the minimalist set, the iconic “Actors on Actors” logo gleaming behind you. The three of you sat in a perfect triangle—aaron on your left, kelvin on your right, and you in the middle, the it girl of the moment. The producers had called it “a meeting of cinematic greatness,” but to you, it felt like two boys scheming to make you look crazy on camera.

“Alright, let’s get started,” kelvin said, leaning back in his chair with a grin that could charm the devil himself. He adjusted the cue cards in his hand, before dramatically clearing his throat “before we get back to the official questions, can we talk about this? Apparently, the streets are saying we are in a poly relationship.”

You laughed, covering your face with your hands. “not this again. The streets are getting out of hand honestly.” Aaron tilted his head, pretending to consider. “Should we tell them the truth?”

Kelvin’s jaw dropped. “Wait, no. we should make this an exclusive, sell this to newspapers or whatever."

“No!” you said quickly, glaring at both of them. “They’re messing with you. There’s no truth to it y’all." Aaron shrugged, his eyes twinkling.

Kelvin looked between you two, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t know. I think our chemistry’s too real...” You shook your head, laughing. “Next question !”

Kelvin, leaned forward with a devilish grin. “Alright, Aaron, this one’s for you : What’s it like working with ❁, and do you ever feel overshadowed by her greatness ?”

Aaron chuckled, his tongue pressing into his cheek. “it’s tough. Really tough. Every time she’s on screen, all I can do is stand there and hope I don’t look like a complete amateur.”

“quit playing, big guy.” you laughed, shaking your head. “He’s lying. Aaron’s the type to come onto set, nail every take in one shot, and still look good while doing it. If anything im the one trying to keep up.”

"See, they’re bickering again !" Kelvin looks at the camera.

“Okay, question for you kel,” you said, tapping your cue card against the armrest. “When you first read the script for your movie waves, did you immediately know you’d take the role, or did someone have to convince you?”

Kelvin smiled, stealing a glance at you before answering. “I think I knew pretty early on. There was this one scene in the script—it was so raw, so vulnerable—it made me feel something I hadn’t felt in a long time. That’s when I knew.”

Aaron leaned closer, resting his chin on his hand. “What scene was it?” You met kelvin’s gaze, your smile softening. “It’s the one where tyler has this kind of massive mental breakdown in front of his parents and he’s trying to go."

"You know, I cried when seeing the film." You say, now a bit blushing since it was a vulnerable moment for you. "The story was so touching and to be able to witness the distress in your eyes from start to end was something I will probably remember forever." You explain, pouring your heart out. Looking back at you, kelvin extended his arms to take your hand in his and kiss it softly. "I appreciate you, a lot." He mumbles against the back of your hand.

aaron looks a you two with softness in his eyes. "Look at them. Never beating the allegations."

“Ok, let’s talk about that final scene in one of your movies, ❁” one person of the crew said, redirecting the discussion. “The one where you’re standing in the rain, and you don’t say a word, but everything you’re feeling is written on your face. How did you prepare for that?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the question “Wow, um... I guess I just thought about all the things I’ve wanted to say but never could. It was about channeling that silence, you know ?”

Aaron nodded, his gaze steady. “And It was beautiful. You were beautiful.”

Kelvin let out a loud cough, breaking the moment. “Alright, Romeo. Save some compliments for the rest of us.”

Aaron smirked but didn’t look away from you. “Can’t help it. She deserves them.”

"This is what I have to deal with everyday y’all.." you say, looking at the camera which is now focused on your pretty face.

"Im not against the idea of a threesome between us though, so hit me up producers. I’m ready." Finishes kelvin, winking.

"Boy you have lost your mind."

@ melosliving 2025

#aaron pierre #aaron pierre x black reader #kelvin harrison jr.#mufasa : the lion king #aaron pierre fluff #kelvin harrison jr x reader #aaron pierre x reader #kelvin harrison jr fluff #actor!reader

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the-kingshound · 2 days ago

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I loved the update just because it exists. I loved the bit with the mounts (especially Arthur's trying to ground MC) but my tiny bit of concrit is the "I know you're a mage" convo feels...shoehorned? Like we get the panic attack and Arthur just says he doesn't think the same way as Uther and it's just...It feels (imo) that the Hound once more just accepts Arthur at face value again? I loved the rewrite making the Hound more wary of Arthur, and this kinda felt like a slip? Idk it just feels like there could be...more there. Or perhaps Arthur will try to revisit the topic? Cause like idk about you but if I was just told "I don't want to do anything to you buuuuuut people in my court might," I'd feel threatened and like...I wouldn't believe a single word prior to the "my court might" part. Cause like the Hound is a political prisoner, the nobles (Our sister in law is amazing) made that clear, so it's just another chain Arthur is adding, a little "Be careful love, you don't know what SOMEONE might do if they found out you're a mage :) :)", you know?

And as someone who played as a Hound who is absolutely dreading this marriage (they literally feel like a prisoner) that whole thing kinda felt as if that wasn't an option? Like for example, the walking into the church thingy you have: I feel better, I'm not alone, and the "I am strong and proud" options, but no real option for...just numb? I personally just headcanoned the Hound was disassociated to the point they won't remember the day at all. (I kinda hope we might just get to breakdown with our brothers, or idk alone in the dark)

Also I forget, but is this a game where we have to rack up romance points to lock in? Or one we choose the route? Because I honestly didn't feel that my Hound would want to talk to anyone during what is (to them) a celebration of their collaring/house's defeat.

BUUUUT I truly do hope you take this as constructive. You won't please all of us, and you shouldn't try to. I love that you gave us even this and you are incredibly strong and lovely for pushing through everything. If I am out of line, feel free to ignore or tell me off and I'll just smash my Hound into a better mold for the story lol. After all, it is your story, tell it how you want.

I would really like to give you a long response to your very helpful feedback, but I fear I am lacking the energy to do so. I just want you to know that I hear you, and in truth you make really good points.

1) yeah I do admit I was getting close to burnout with writing in this update, and that scene in particular might have suffered for it. I'll revise it, and hopefully try to not make the interaction feel so jarring. (Note: did you try to pick the more... aggressive option? It goes in a different way, maybe it is less weird?)

2) you are totally right on the options for the marriage - especially because you can play a very numb MC. I'll either edit or add that option. Ohh and the breakdown with the siblings is peak idea. I'm writing that down.

3) as for the romance points: this game is focused strongly on MC. You can choose the pace of the relationship your Hound develops, and for romance, you need to first have some platonic points with said RO. Platonic means in this case that MC wants to spend time with them, and doesn't have to go further than what will become a lifelong friendship.

You do have to pick at least an option to have platonic points with a RO, but you won't get locked out of anything in this game. Every choice shapes your personal Hound's story, this is not a game that punishes you, or that is focused solely on romance.

Thank you for sending this in! This kind of feedback, especially if worded clearly and kindly lik you did, can be so helpful and I love getting it even if it makes me pause and rethink some things.

#ask

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natsuminmin · 2 days ago

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─── ･｡ﾟ☆ 500 MILLION HOURS -> ushijima wakatoshi !!!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ alexandra by reality club

synopsis; in which ushijima slowly realizes he's grown fond of the unexpected, as long as it was in the shape of you cw: fluff/slight angst (?), yearning obvi , ushi doesnt what to make of his feelings , pre!timeskip, unproofread + lowercase, can be interpreted as gn! , self-indulgent , ooc grr... (lmk if i forget something!!!)

"on a park bench, under the moon"

ushijima shouldn't have cared that much.

it was just a hug...right? it didn't mean anything?

enough, he wont torture himself with this. human emotions weren't exactly his strongest suit. he should just stick to volleyball.

but why did he feel his heart race when he looked down at you, with your arms wrapped around him? you who he towered over so easily? one look in your eyes and he found it hard to fight his irrational urge to pick you up and cradle you close to his body. excuse me...where did that even come from?

he cleared his throat to clear his mind, his gravelly voice filling the air.

"you're being clingy right now." yep, that was ushijima. blunt and concise as always. he saw you pull away with a huff, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of regret, maybe. he couldn't tell, all he knew was that he might've wanted your embrace around him for a second longer. his thoughts stopped swirling when you cut through it with your voice, something he always compared to the melodic tunes of a windchime, even as you used it to get sarcastic with him. he never did really get your humor.

"well, you should be used to it. we've been friends for forever."

"it's only been 5 years. besides, we'd both die before we become 'friends for forever.'"

you groaned at him with indignation, did he always have to take things so literally? it was only an exaggeration....you resumed your earlier pace, returning into a stride as you remembered why you were out so late at night anyway.

popsicles were far too good...it was a hot midnight and you craved some after being woken up to a dream of it. naturally, you texted him first. and here you were, sneaking out of the dorms as the both of you walked to the convenience store. you don't know how you managed to convince him to go with you. you didn't even notice how quickly his reply had sent, as if he was waiting for hours to hear from you.

just as you began to retort, he suddenly spoke and clashed with your own words:

"well-"

"you've never hugged me this much."

you cut yourself off to let him finish speaking. the both of you walk in the tranquility of night for a second, as if trying to let that awkward moment float away in the soft breeze.

what? why were you looking at him in that way? he was just being honest....you know he's always been blunt. you wouldn't judge him, would you? he was relieved when you broke the silence, letting out a soft breath. why was he so worried if he weirded you out? it's not like he expected you to run back to your dorm and leave him alone with a broken heart. nope, not at all.

"is it a crime to want to hug a friend? brighten up sometimes, ushi."

before he could say that he was not a flashlight therefore he could not brighten up, and that it was never a crime to touch someone unless it was to an extreme, you shushed him; as if you almost knew what he was going to say already. which you probably did...god, why did that make his heart squeeze?

"a-ba-bah-bah, don't say anything. let's just buy the popsicles.

─── ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ ───

he found himself sitting at a park bench beside you, who was noisily slurping up the popsicles you had purchased and was obviously annoyed that it had melted that quickly. well, that's what popsicles usually did in the heat, after all

your beauty was simply divine, even when you were making the silliest faces as you tried to catch the juice that dripped down the popsicle stick. he thought you could rival even the goddess' when he saw the moonlight bounce off your eyes, making it sparkle more so than it usually did.

he noticed that you downed both of the popsicles immediately, leaving you with two plain sticks. he watched you stare at them for a while, before tucking it under your lips to create makeshift fangs.

"i'm dracula, bleh bleh blegh"

then you doubled over laughing at the joke (?) you made, he presumed. he was not getting any better at this.

he doesn't understand you.

he hates it. hates not knowing what you'll do next.

strangely enough, it's what draws him to you. he wants to analyze you. he wants to laugh at your jokes. he wants to know how you wanted to be loved. he wants to learn every single nook and cranny that created the outline of you.

he's aware volleyball was all he's ever mastered.

but you....you make him feel emotions that he didn't know he was possible of feeling. like he could dive in choppy waters and remain unscathed. heck, he felt cocky enough to puff up his chest and say those three special words already.

my god, if he can't focus on the only thing he knows, then what was he?

oh no.

he. was. a. fool.

for you, no less.

he so badly wanted to risk your friendship and confess at that very moment, yearned to finally grasp you in his arms the way you did.

no, screw that. he wouldn't know what to do.

so he resolved to wait instead. to wait until you made the first move. to wait until you had shown reassurance that you longed for him as much as he did for you.

if only he knew what was running in your mind as you chewed absent-mindedly on your popsicle stick, then he'd know that his feelings weren't unrequited after all. all you were thinking about was your next move, you had to make it bigger and bolder, because he just wouldn't get it otherwise. the signs were all there, she , ushijima. it's a shame, really.

but whatever, he's decided that he'd spend 500 million hours waiting, dedicate all his minutes to you; in hopes that you would finally find your way to your rightful place:

by his side.

"but in full view of what you are, you’re a goddess, you’re my rock star"

a/n: hahehuhiho i love basing my fics on songs sm. i remember yapping to my friend about creating this fic and said i should go for it...uu have her to thank gyus UGHH I CANT GET OVER HIM I WANNA MAKE MORE FICS WITH THIS KIND OF USHI should i make this into a 3-part fic that ends in total angst

#haikyuu #hq #hq x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushiwaka #ushijima x reader #hq ushijima #ushijima fluff #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu ushijima #ushijima wakatoshi x you #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima x you #wakatoshi ushijima #wakatoshi x reader

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tomriddlehyperfixataion · 2 days ago

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New perfume? -Tom Riddle x Reader-oneshot

-summary; Tom’s girl wears perfume everyday, scents Tom enjoys enough to usually enjoy burying his face in her neck every night to calm down. Today somethings different, her perfume is…dear merlin Tom cant hold himself back.

Warning; smut fic, oral sex(Fem receiving), unprotected PinV sex(wrap it before you tap it!), obsessive feral Tom, Amortentia use(not on purpose.) sliiightly pathetic Tom, slightly sub! Tom.

Tom had a sensitive nose, which helped a lot in potions class and got him many Outstandings from Slughorn over the ears. This sensitive nose meant his girlfriend (y/n) had to be careful with what perfumes she got, she herself had a sensitive nose so she never got anything intense, her favorite being a vanilla honey-based scent, it was comforting yet light, blending in with the scent of her shampoo and bodywash that Tom enjoyed.

His favorite thing to do at the end of a long patrol was to pull her into his lap in front of the common room fire and inhale her gentle scent, enjoying the sweet soft smell of honey and vanilla, never too strong, never too faint-just right.

Just like her.

Currently, Tom hadn’t seen his girl all day, they’d been busy with classes which were all separate considering their different career paths, (y/n) planning on being a healer and Tom not having any particular thing set(as far as anyone was aware other than his knights), so he hadn’t seen her since breakfast-and breakfast was when Tom usually kept his head low, trying to cover up the barrage of smells with a cup of sugar and milk heavy coffee.

So, until right now-as he passed by (y/n) for a split moment as they both went to their next class, he hadn’t gotten a whiff of her usual perfume that made him feel at ease.

Because this time-her perfume assaulted his senses, not to make him scrunch his nose and tell her to take a shower or something-but instead he stumbled, heat zipping down his spine as her scent overwhelmed him so suddenly.

Vanilla and honey, caramel and roses, and a heady mix of his cologne and her usual perfume. He twisted on his heel, going right after her-his friend called after him-they had to get to class but for once, Tom really didn’t give a shit.

He caught up to his girl and grabbed her arm, she squeaked and looked up at him-her perfume invading his senses, and he swore he felt light on his feet-and pants too tight. “I need to talk to you.” Tom said, demanding, not asking.

“Shit you scared me Tom-“ (y/n) breathed out, stumbling after him as he dragged her down the hall, out of the crowd of students and into an unused room that hadn’t been used since their first year.

(y/n) gasped as she was shoved against the door, shivering as Tom’s face pressed into her neck, hands tight against her sides. “You changed your perfume.” Tom nearly growled into her neck, teeth grazing her throat and she groaned, her head tipping back against the wall.

“What-no I d-didn’t?” (y/n) said, she hadn’t, she put on the usual vanilla honey perfume she put on every day? Tom groaned, inhaling her scent-he felt feral, like a male dog smelling a bitch in heat.

“You did.” He insisted, licking his bottom lip-he felt drunk, or like someone had slipped an aphrodisiac into his system somehow.

“I didn’t-I used the same perfume I use every day.” (y/n), pulling out the perfume bottle from her bag to show it to him. He recognized the bottle, he’d helped her pick it out a few months back. He grabbed it, pulling off the cap and inhaling from the sprayer. It smelled like she did-intense and overwhelming, heat zinging down his spine again.

Beneath it all, he recognized it, Amortentia. “Someone spiked your perfume with Amortentia.” He muttered, his eyes half-lidded as he capped the bottle and put it in his pocket, grabbing (y/n)’s wrist as she tried to take it back.

“Who in the heck would do that?” (y/n) asked, her brow furrowed, gasping as Tom’s hips bucked against her and backed her against the wall, his lips on her neck, licking a wide stripe up to her jaw. “Tom!”

“You smell so fucking good, I can’t help myself,” Tom groaned, feeling completely out of control for the first time in his life, he’d felt this way before, always with (y/n), but never this intense. “Fuck-(y/n).” he groaned again, hands going down her sides and up her skirt, pulling at her tights.

“Tom-we have class,” (y/n) protested weakly, her cheeks flushing as he continued to tug at her tights. He nipped at her earlobe, making her shudder as his tongue traced the shell of her ear.

“Fuck class.” He groaned, a sentence never heard from him before and (y/n) swallowed, biting her inner lip as she looked at him, his face was flushed, pupils almost overtaking his whole eye. Whoever had tampered with her perfume had made it like a Tom magnet, making him crazy for her.

She didn’t get to see him like this often, and he seemed sound of mind otherwise.

They only had one more class today, and it probably already started.

Fuck it.

She turned her head, pressing her lips against his hard, teeth clashing as hands yanked at clothes and Tom’s tie was pulled off-his eyes snapping open as he felt his tie get yanked around his wrists and pulled behind his back, (y/n) tying it and yanking it tight.

“Fuck. (y/n).” Tom groaned, his brows pinched as he pulled at the binding, panting as (y/n) smirked to herself. “Where’d you learn this?”

“From you.” (y/n) said, taking her wand from her bag and locking the door before dropping it back in her bag and throwing her bag to the floor, yanking Tom’s vest and shirt up, unbuckling his belt.

Tom groaned, his forehead pressed against the top of her head as he leaned over her, panting heavily as her fingers brushed against his skin, trailing the patch of hair that disappeared into his boxers. “(y/n).” he snapped, cheeks flushed with impatience and desire, huffing as he felt her hands on his shoulders and he was forced to his knees.

He looked up at her, his eyes fluttering as he smelled her intensely now, closer to her pretty cunt that he loved so much. “(y/n).” he groaned again, mouth watering as she pushed down her tights and underwear, fingers curling into his hair to bring him between her thighs, face disappearing under her skirt.

She smelled so fucking good; he felt drunk just off her scent. His mouth opened as she pushed him against her cunt and he began to lick and suck at her ravenously, like a man starved-her moans and sighs music to his ears as his hips bucked in response.

He’d never felt so starved for this, so-needy-for this. He’d never let her tie his wrists up or force him to his knees-but her damn perfume, whatever tampered with it, was making him weak for her, pussy drunk as he licked into her cunt, swallowing down her sweet taste.

His nose brushed against her clit and (y/n) jolted, forcing his face closer and he groaned, moving his face up to suck her clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive thing, fists clenching and unclenching behind his back.

“You’re gonna kill me you she-devil.” Tom groaned as he pulled back for breath, brows pinched as he licked his lips-sweet with the taste of her. (y/n) laughed gently, nails scratching his scalp that sent shivers down his spine.

“What’ta way to go huh?” (y/n) teased, her eyes fluttering as he licked a wide stripe up her cunt from her hole to her clit, sucking on her clit-grazing his teeth on it to make her jump.

“Best way to go.” He murmured-his eyes closing as he took her cunt into his mouth again, licking and sucking like he couldn’t get enough. This was the way to die, between her thighs and tasting her, and nothing else.

(y/n) moaned, mouth opened as she listened to the obscene noise of his tongue and mouth against her, the smooth texture of his tongue making her go mad. “Tom-Tom,” she moaned out, feeling him smirk against her and she hooked a leg over his shoulder, bringing him even closer somehow. “oooh fuck-Tom.”

She yanked at his hair and he let out a long guttural moan, sending shivers up her spine as it made everything vibrate and she moaned with him, yanking his hair again as he ate her out like it was the last thing he’d do. “Oh fuck-oh shit-oh shit oh shiiit.” (y/n) groaned, her body arching forward, that peaking feeling in her cunt growing stronger, tightening in her gut.

“Shit shit shit-I’m gonna-Tom fuck!” (y/n) moaned, grinding her hips to push against his face, her hands in his hair to pull him against her and he went slack jawed, letting her use his tongue to finish on as the rest of him went tight, his eyes fluttering as he felt her cum on his face.

She kept him against her as she rode out her high, moaning softly as her hips bucked against him, pulling his head away as he kept licking at her clit-sending her into overdrive. Her mouth dropped open slightly, looking at him; his face was flushed, lips open and slick with her cum, tongue slightly out and hair a mess-her fingers still tangled.

“you look good on your knees,” she muttered and Tom swallowed, panting hard, twisting his hips to try and relieve tension.

“(y/n),” he said, voice raspy and almost needy, his eyes locked onto her cunt still, watching it drip with arousal. She let out a soft sigh and slid down on the wall in front of him, pushing him back-his thighs burning as she pushed him to lay on his back with his legs and arms beneath him. He said her name again, groaning as she shoved his shirt up, putting the hem into his mouth.

“Bite.” She commanded softly and he took it between his teeth, already breathing hard as she undid his trousers and pushed them down with his boxers, his eyes fluttering as her hand wrapped around his aching cock, her other hand brushing against his pubes and then going up his chest to his throat, pushing lightly.

“Be good.” She said and Tom groaned, his back arching as she swung her leg over him and sank his cock into her, (y/n) moaning as she felt him fill her up perfectly. She began to rock back and forth as Tom writhed his head around, her hand still on his throat-shirt still in his mouth as she began to ride him-her ass snapping down on his thighs as he writhed and bucked against her.

(y/n) rocked her hips, bouncing lightly every once in a while to make him groan, drool soaking his shirt as he thrust up against her, skin against skin and the heady smell of sex filling their senses as she pressed against his throat a bit more, leaning down to press soft kisses on his brow and cheeks.

He strained against his tie, wanting to touch her but also not wanting to go against her-that damned perfume had ruined him, made him weak to her whims. He groaned out her name, muffled by the shirt in his mouth as his face flushed hotter, his hips snapping faster as he felt his orgasm approach, his cock deep in her tight wet warmth.

He opened his eyes to look at her-a near begging look in his eyes, pleasure from her cunt and her hand on his throat nearly overwhelming him. “Cum for me,” (y/n) moaned, clenching around him and his eyes rolled back, body stilling as his hips snapped once, twice, and then stopped, (y/n) groaning as she felt him twitch inside her, cumming.

She released his throat, tugging the shirt from his mouth and Tom took greedy gasps of breath, his eyes unfocused as he let his head turn to the side, his cheek against the cold stone. (y/n) got off him, his cock slipping out of her and she shivered, helping him sit up and rubbing his legs as he felt pins and needles from below the knee.

“I should thank whoever tampered with my perfume,” (y/n) teased as she untied his wrists and grabbed her wand from her bag, cleaning them both up and retying his tie.

“I’ll find the bastard and buy them a butterbeer.” Tom muttered and (y/n) grinned, happy to know he hadn’t minded her being in control for once. He kissed her cheek and got up on wobbly legs, pulling her up by the hand. “Once.” Tom said sternly, looking down at her with his flushed face and messy hair, his eyes still distant.

(y/n) grinned. “Sure.”

It was not the last time.

-end-

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle #tom riddle imagine #smut fic #feral monkey noises #a oneshot in the mean time while i figure out where to go for the 50+ page oneshot im still writing

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leaawrites · 21 hours ago

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The way I feel is oh so new to me

Liam Gallagher x fem!reader

Summary: when Liam takes on a dare from his friends, he doesn't believe of finding himself making the biggest mistake in his life.

Warnings: Liam being a bit stupid, some of this is really unhinged, angst, crying, making out, suggestive, fluff

Wordcount: 2.7k

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Masterlist

It was another full night at the pub as Liam and the rest of the band settled down in their usual booth, Noel with them. He’d been with them at practice, offering tips, advice, agreements to which They’d have to settle if he was to join the band. Control was what the most important to him. If he was in the band, he wanted to be more than part of it. Noel wanted it to be his band, and the other’s weren’t against it. They needed a ‘leader’ someone who knew what he was doing, guiding them. He was solely the only one willing to lead.

And then it hit him, for the first time. Everybody around him was talking, caught in conversations about everything: The band, music, some bird they found fit. Everybody was indulging in socializing, but nobody was talking to him. And she sat so far away.

A group surrounding her, Guinness in her hands while the other’s drank what he assumed was what she drank the first night too. They were all talking, but nobody was talking to her directly. Not the way he did. Not the way he would want to. She was part of the conversation, but she wasn’t in the conversation.

“Ya know, you may've said that you don’t fancy her, but then also don’t look at her like that,” Noel commented from beside him, observing his brother’s focused gaze and where it was drawn to - who it was drawn to.

“Fuck off,” was all that came back as an answer, though his eyes were still focused on her.

“What’re you so afraid of?” Noel kept on budging him, quietly enjoying seeing him in such distress over a girl.

“Nothin,” Liam answered, finally looking at him. “I’m scared of nothin', what’s your problem, mate?”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed, earning a furious look from Liam and curious ones from all the others at the table.

“You are fucking insufferable.” Shaking his head before standing up, Liam walked over to the bar, ordering another pint.

It was full, bodies were pressed together, hands reaching to grasp another drink from the bartender. Liam squished himself between them, creating a space where he knew no one and nobody knew him, telling the bartender something he didn’t even understand himself through all the other chatter.

Though he seemed to get it, sliding him a new pint over the counter in under a minute.

Taking it with a nod of his head, Liam went back to his table. Not anticipating the conversation he’d have with Noel as soon as he’d sit back down. Nevertheless, he had no one else to engage with tonight. At least no one that wouldn’t want to chatter with Noel too.

“Liam!” A voice called out from another table, stopping him in his tracks and making him turn.

Searching for the origin his eyes caught a hand waving out to him, a drunk smile on her lips. One of her friends, he noted whilst walking over to their table. His eyes never leaving her hunched over figure. She wouldn’t even look at him now.

His smile faded for a second, watching her so distant - more than when he didn’t even know her, at least then she still looked at him - before his grin reappeared as soon as two arms flung around his neck, pulling him down. Drunk giggles falling into his ear drums.

“How’s it going?” he asked, stepping back a bit. His eyes flitting over to her every other second, trying to catch even the slightest movement of her head towards him. Though there was nothing, just the anxious tapping of her fingers against the glass.

“Good, very good,” the other girl answered, leaning forward while she laughed. “That new guy that’s sitting with you” - just when he thought he escaped him, he was brought up again - “who is he? He’s cute.”

“That’s me brother, Noel,” Liam answered, sighing in frustration but trying to keep his voice steady. “You wouldn’t like him, he’s a cunt.”

“He’s a hot cunt though,” she answered in a whispery voice. “Would you mind making us familiar before I get familiar with his body?”

Liam scrunched his face up in disgust at the pure thought that someone wanted to get intimate with Noel. Not understanding what anybody could see in that annoying twat.

“He’s not really looking for something,” he started answering, receiving a groan from the girl and an arm thrown around his shoulder that made him go quiet.

“We’re going to Noel’s, wanna come? He’s got some idea for a song, wanted to play it for us. Since we’re a band now,” Bonehead told him, his eyes flickering over the group of girls. “Maybe you wanna come too?” he asked them all.

The four girls looked at each other, all agreeing to one answer. Yes.

Taking Liam with him, Bonehead and him went back towards the exit, waiting by the door for the others to walk after them.

Over the heads of the other guests, he could see Y/n shaking her friend’s arm off her body, telling her something she couldn’t make out. Though he had a pretty good guess when they all walked towards them, excited smiles on their faces, and she stayed put. Nursing her drink, not looking at them.

“What’s up with her?” Liam caught one of the girls by the wrist before they could all flee outside.

“Don’t know, said she didn’t feel like coming. But that’s typical, she’s never actually up for some spontaneous fun,” she shrugged it off as normal before walking past him outside.

“Where you going, mate?” Bonehead called out after him as Liam went back inside, stalking towards her table. Noel held him back from going after Liam, telling him he’d know where they were and that he’d get there on his own.

Taking in a deep breath before he reached her, Liam leaned on his forearms closer to her in order to not having to scream over the music and talking. Making her jump slightly as his voice was directed towards her. So close.

“Look, I know you hate me and I deserve it, but I’m not gonna let you sulk here all alone, alright? Either you’re gonna come with me to Noel’s bedsit and enjoy yourself for a little bit, forgetting all about me, or I’m gonna walk you home,” he proposed. “It’s your choice.”

“Thank you, but I’m declining both.” Still not looking at him, she answered. Her voice steady but he could notice the hints of fear slipping through certain syllables. “I’m fine on my own, you don’t need to worry about me.”

“This or that, you have the choice. But I’m not leaving you here alone to end like some drunk bastard who can’t even remember the address of his own house.”

“I don’t need your advice, Liam. I don’t want anything from you, so fuck off and go after your friends. They’re probably already wondering where you are.” Going back to looking down at her hands, she hoped for him walk away, but he didn’t. Liam stayed leaning towards her. Trying to not looked faced by her bitter tone.

“Well, they can keep wonderin'.” He leaned forward a bit more, trying to take her hand but she pulled it away faster than he could blink. Like she rehearsed this all before, aware of what he’d be trying to do. “Look, just ignore me. I deserve it. But you don’t deserve sitting in a shitty pub because of me. Just come with me, have fun without glancing my way and enjoy the time with your friends. You’ll walk home with them and I’ll be nothing more than a guy you know from school, alright?”

A guy from school? Was he fucking serious? How could she just ignore him after all that, not even glance his way when her heart was craving to see his eyes directed towards her once more. Focused on her solely. It’d ruin her even further.

Reluctantly she stood up, taking the last bit of her beer down her throat and walking ahead of Liam out of the pub. Ignoring the small smile she knew was on his face now that he convinced her.

Walking side by side, both their hands stuffed into the pockets of their jackets, the time they’d spent together was silent. Neither daring to speak a word in case it’d make the other turn around and walk away.

Standing in front of the door of Noel’s bedsit, laughter was heard through the walls already. They tried to keep it down, but it was obvious that they were failing horribly.

Turning towards her, Liam started talking for the first time in ten minutes. “I know I’ve been shit to you, but can we please forget all that and act normal in there?”

“I’m not here for you, Liam. Neither am I here to play some invisible ghost, alright? I’m not gonna forget ‘all that’ and I’m not gonna forgive you. If you annoy me, I’ll be open about it and I won’t hold back,” she answered, hand hovering over the door handle. “You’ve got yourself into this situation, live with the consequences of your actions.”

Walking inside, she left him behind. Greeting the others with a kind smile, explaining that Liam convinced her to come. The others thanked him, making him nod. Noel being the only one that saw the desperate look in his brother’s eyes, the realization creeping up on him that this was the end now. There was no ship to sail home safely now, the wreck was already reaching the ground of the ocean.

“You good?” Noel asked, sitting down on his bed and tuning his guitar a bit. Looking up at Liam, his gaze was once more focused on the girl, talking with her friends and looking like a whole different person than who he’d been standing in front of the door with mere minutes ago.

“All good,” he answered, slumping down on the couch.

Everyone else found a seating place to listen to Noel play his song. Looking at him expectantly. Waiting for the first taste of ‘Oasis’.

“So, this one is called ‘Live Forever’, though I’ll probably change the name another three times.”

Everyone laughed at his joke, a small smile creeping up on his own face, loosening the tension that built up in his shoulder. This was the first time he ever played something that was his own in front of other people. Glad that it were people he knew, people he trusted.

Playing the last few chords, Noel looked up at the small crowd that had huddled together. In awe at his words. Stars in their eyes, even Liam looked impressed.

He had to give it to his brother, he was a fucking great writer.

“Wow,” Y/n breathed out, leading the others to give a round of applause.

“That was really great, mate,” Bonehead said, standing up and patting Noel’s shoulder.

“Awesome,” Guigsy corrected him.

Slowly, one by one, everyone stood up and said their praise. A small blush creeping up on Noel’s neck at the amount of appreciation for his art.

Afterwards, they all fell into a rhythm of conversation. Small groups forming across the room.

A bit further into the night, Noel caught her body trying to slip out of the room.

“Where are you going?” he called out to her, making her freeze in her spot.

“I really need to get home,” she answered, rocking on her feet.

“All alone at this hour? Could end bad,” Noel said, sending a look towards Liam who only looked at him confused.

“I’m gonna be fine,” she said, growing impatient.

“You sure no one should walk you home?”

“It’s just down the street, nothing far away.”

Rolling his eyes at his brother’s obliviousness, he kicked Liam’s leg before continuing, “Liam’s been bored out of his mind anyway, he’ll walk you.”

Turning around, Noel went back to conversing with the others. Ignoring both of the young adults shocked faces at his suggestion. Still, Liam took his jacket and put it on before slipping out with her. Not objecting.

“You said, this or that, remember? Not both,” she confronted him as they stood outside the door, listening to it falling shut.

“Well, I lied. Your fault for believing me,” Liam shrugged, lighting a cigarette.

Rolling her eyes, she began walking down the street, not looking back at the brunet, not waiting for his steps to follow her. Still they did, rapidly. Quickly catching up to her. The smoke floating around the space around them as he breathed out.

“You know,” she said, stopping her feet from walking. Turning to him, arms crossed over her chest. “Who do you think you are for just acting like nothing happened? Why do you think I’d forgive you for what you’ve done? Are you really that stupid? That spoiled with admiration? Everyone just listens and forgives you, no matter what you’ve done.”

“Right,” Liam laughed dryly, stomping out the cigarette under his feet. “I have it so easy.”

“You do,” she was basically yelling at this point. Anger pooling up inside of her like lava in a volcano. “What else do you want?”

“I don’t know, alright?” He answered in the same tone, his voice the same loudness as hers. “I don’t know how I’m feeling right now, I’ve never felt like this before. I just know, that whatever I’ve said to you that day was the worst thing I’ve ever done.”

Rubbing his hand over his eyes, he searched for his next words. “I was scared, alright?”

“Liam Gallagher was afraid?” she asked humorous. “What would someone like you be afraid of?”

“Feelings?” he proposed as an answer, making the sarcastic smile on her face fall from her lips. The ends of her lips being pulled to the ground, a frown appearing on her face. “I like you, alright? I do and I was scared of that feeling at first, but seeing you mad at me is by far worse than anything else. I never want to make you feel like that again.”

With a huff she turned around again, continuing her way down the street. Ignoring his words. Ignoring everything he just confessed.

Throwing his arms in exhaustion at her behavior, he stood still for a moment. Watching her figure appear and disappear between the street lights, before ultimately walking after her when her silhouette got to little for his liking.

He didn’t catch her, didn’t get to talk to her again when he reached her house, though he noticed the little space between the door and and frame.

It was open. She left the door open.

Looking to his left and right before walking towards her house, Liam took slow, cautious steps towards the door. Pushing it open gently, he waited for a sound to appear. Footsteps or yelling or even just the sound of the telly in the living room, though all he was greeted with was silence.

Taking a step inside, he could hear the floorboards creak under his weight. Leaving the door behind his back, he didn’t close it yet, wanting to be prepared n case he had to run.

With a sudden force, Liam was pushed against the door, a click sound following. He could feel her hands tucking at the collar of his shirt, pulling him down towards her. Lips were shoved on his, angry, hungry kisses falling between them. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he felt her chest against his, her heart beating against his ribcage. Forcefully trying to enter his body once more.

Quiet, sorrowful sobs escaped her lips between kisses. Tears streamed down her face, down her eyes and on their locked lips. The salty taste feeling like fire on his tongue, burning every atom of happiness that appeared the moment she kissed him.

He tried to push her back, getting her to look at him and explain everything so he could stop worrying, though all he received was her pulling him even closer and small whispers falling from her lips in the second they separated to catch their breaths.

“You idiot,” she mumbled. “You stupid idiot.”

“Why didn’t you just say something.”

“I really thought I was nothing to you-

“When you were everything to me.”

“You are everything to me,” he answered, finally getting her to look at him. “More than what I ever thought was possible.”

“I just got scared that you’d notice I’m not half as interesting as everyone always makes me out to be,” he mumbled.

“I don’t care if you’re interesting, I just want you to love me.”

“I do, I love you.”

#liam gallagher x you #liam gallagher x reader #90s liam gallagher #liam gallagher imagine #liam gallagher fic #liam gallagher #oasis x reader #oasis imagine #oasis fic #oasis band #oasis #britpop imagine #britpop x reader #britpop fanfic #britpop #noel gallagher x reader #noel gallagher

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percywinchester27 · 24 hours ago

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The new Mrs. Winchester (19)

Word count: 4.5K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Chapter warnings: Implications of sexual abuse, mentions of torture, PTSD, angst, flesh trade, language, mention of violence; reader discretion is strongly advised.

Series Summary: After spending over two years in captivity, and enduring assault, torture, and degradation of every kind, Y/N is finally sold off to the highest bidder. But when the deal is masked as a hushed marriage to a wealthy and powerful man, Y/N knows it means a few more nights of brutal torment ending in certain death. After all, why else would a man like him, want someone like her, except to fulfill desires so depraved that they would require owning a person. However, the Winchester mansion has mysteries of its own, woven in lies, betrayal, and death. Smack in the middle of it, she finds both hope and a home, in the person she least expected to find it with. But when it comes down to it, will she be able to save the thing that matters the most?

A/N: A huge shoutout to all my wonderful readers! Your support and love keeps me going! <3

Beta: My darling, @deanssweetheart23

“You can’t kick 'em in the nuts and make a run for it?” The girl in the next cell asked.

“Not if you want to avoid getting beaten into a pulp,” you told her through a mouthful of bread and tomato. “There’s always a guard outside the door.”

“Kick 'em in the nuts, too.”

You snorted so hard, bits of tomato landed on the floor.

“So, let me get this straight,” she said. “There are fancy rooms upstairs with wardrobes full of fancy clothes that you have to wear and then they take you to other fancy places for men–”

“Sometimes it’s just the fancy rooms overhead. Men come here, too.”

“But they take you out, don’t they?” She argued. “Just go to a reception and tell the hostess, a waitress, anyone. I know you managed to run away once… so why not try again? If they let you out, it can’t be that hard!”

You swallowed the bite in your mouth and sighed. What did it matter if you told her the truth? Neither of you would make it out anyway.

“They’ve kidnapped my half-brother and half-sister. Little kids, barely six… have them at gunpoint somewhere. I make one wrong move and they are dead.”

“Shit.”

You could picture her dumbstruck expression. After spending a week next to her, seeing her face while going in and out, you were starting to get a hang of her. You still didn’t know why you did it, take her turn every night. Eventually, they would drag her out, but for a week, the boss wasn’t in the building and no one seemed to push the inevitable and drag that girl’s stubborn ass out.

And boy was she stubborn. She bit and clawed like a wild cat at the guards who tried to drag her. She got plenty beat up in the process, but everyone seemed to wait for the boss to get her in line when he came.

“Don’t you worry,” she said. “My fiance is going to get us out.”

“Fiance?”

“Yeah. I bet he’s worried out of his mind right now. But there’s police. They’ll find us.”

“The police are in on this,” you said. “They get serviced for their quiet.”

She spat, then screamed in frustration.

Footsteps echoed off the walls, and blood froze in your veins. You recognised the hard tap and unforgiving rhythm of his steps. The boss.

“Go to your bed and pretend to sleep,” you hissed, discarding the sandwich in your hand and doing the same.

“W-what?”

“Just do it.”

Covering yourself entirely with the blanket, you rolled into a ball, as if that would make you invisible, teleport you out of the horror story you were about witness. Since staring at the glass wall in his cabin for the first time, you had prayed for yourself. The pastor in the church your aunt dragged you to every Sunday preached that one should only pray for the world and not for oneself… because praying for oneself was selfish. If you prayed only for the world, that made you a good person, and God helped good people without having to ask for it.

You had never been particularly religious, but that one thing had stuck around. Subconsciously, all your life, you had never asked for yourself, not from God, the universe or even as a favour from people. If you wanted something, you had worked hard to earn it, and achieve it by sheer will and not divine intervention.

But that first night with the boss had made you pray for yourself over and over.

And you prayed now, in whispers that only remained in your breath, never making a sound.

God, let him forget that I exist… Not tonight. Please please please.

The footsteps came to a halt, and the door next to yours opened.

You closed your eyes tighter. Oh, that poor girl. He had come for her at last.

“I hear you’ve been difficult.”

A spit.

“Michael,” he said in his cold, raspy voice. “Hand me my cane, now.”

“Yes, Boss,” said Michael, gleefully.

A slash in the air and a piercing scream sliced the air.

You shut your ears tightly as the scuffling began… but then it ended as suddenly as it had started when a loud, sickening crunch which sounded so close to the shared wall that you were certain it had happened against it.

A minute passed.

“Oh, what a terrible waste,” the boss sighed at last, almost delicately. “Remove it.”

The taps receded and then soon they carried her body by your cell, blood trailing behind her.

You sat up bolt in your bed, unable to keep the bile down as you emptied your stomach on the carpet next to the bed. Sam’s side of the carpet.

You plopped back on the bed, breathing heavily.

“Just a dream,” you told yourself. “Just a dream.” Then, the reality came crashing down on you and you wanted to throw up all over again.

Abby’s quiet knock from the main door wrenched you out of bed and through the seating area. She didn’t have to see the vomit. Her face was pinched when you opened the door for her. She entered trepidly and placed the breakfast tray on the table.

“Who’s in the house?” You asked

“Just us,” she said. “Mr Dean Winchester left last night itself.”

“And S-Sam? He’s out for his run?”

“Mr Winchester left for work.”

“It’s only 7.”

She gave you an apprehensive look, as if she wanted to say something but was scared of how you would perceive it.

“What is it, Abby?”

“Miss, he’s in a right state, that man. Before you came, he used to be so dry and detached… but this past month, since you first locked yourself in your room, he’s gone from pillar to post for you. Sleep, food, everything be damned. The only thing he has done is worry.” Her hand fluttered nervously to her side. “He stumbled down the steps this morning from exhaustion and still went for his run anyway. I think he needs to see a doctor.”

Abby didn’t know what had conspired last night.

“I don’t know the deal with his brother being back now,” she said, wrangling the corner of her apron. “But everyone knows they don’t get along. It can’t be good for him.”

Sam had looked exhausted last evening. The dark circles under his eyes, the once-fitted shirt that hung loose on his shoulders, and the ever-present frown on his forehead had become more and more etched now.

“Abby, tell me when Sam is back, will you?”

You sent her away and cleaned up your mess in the bedroom. A hot shower further cleared your head. Taking stock of your time in the Winchester Mansion made you recount the number of times you had run out on Sam, locked yourself in the room, the number of secrets you had kept. So, he’d had his own secrets. You knew that.

Then there was the fact that Sam had never explicitly said he hated his brother. In fact, he’d never spoken of him without pain mingled with love. His exact words- “We had a fight and I couldn’t see his face after that.” Couldn’t…. Not ‘Didn’t want.’ Nowhere had his words implied that Sam’s consent was considered.

The day appeared stormy, with an overcast sky. Maybe the light of the lantern would carry, perhaps it wouldn’t. You set it on the sill anyway.

Dean found you at the pier an hour later, when you had nearly given up hope. He stood at his usual spot but did not sit beside you and you noticed he was dressed differently; no jacket today, just a black T-shirt and jeans.

Slowly, you tilted your face upwards to meet his sharp green eyes. How often had you wondered what Dean Winchester would be like? Bitter? Angry? But Han wasn’t any of those things.

“Get up!” He ordered, without an ounce of remorse. You got to your feet.

“This way,” he pointed and began to walk towards the jungle without a preamble.

A frisson of annoyance ran through you. Where was his abashedness?

“Sam didn’t know,” he said briskly. “That you knew me. That we knew each other. That poor bastard had no damn clue.”

“You want me to believe you’ve been hiding out in these woods without Sam knowing?”

“Yes.” He came to an abrupt stop and you realised Dean was dead serious. “That kid’s as straight-jacketed as they come. Keeping up the charade nearly did a number on his head, and then you came into the picture. Sam’s nearly lost his goddamned mind over you.”

“He told you that?”

Dean sighed in exasperation. “Haven’t you been listening to a single word? I haven’t seen Sam in months, not since the fight. But he’s my only family left. I had to keep an eye on the kid.”

The trees were too damn thick for any sunlight to trickle down. Dean started walking again and you followed.

“What was the fight about, then?” You pressed, refusing to believe.

“You,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Two years before I came into the picture? Yeah, right.”

Dean tilted his head, weighing his words. “About the idea of you, I guess.”

“Wow, that clears it all up, doesn’t it?” You laughed sarcastically.

He stayed quiet for so long that you actually paid attention to your surroundings, finding the trail vaguely familiar in the thick trees.

“We were to be married in eight weeks,” he said, voice deep and achingly sad. “She’d come to drop off pie for me. Sam says he insisted on dropping her back, but I knew my Jo. She was stubborn that one. If she wanted to drive herself, nothing Sam said would’ve changed her mind. Nothing. Ellen called three hours later asking for her. We searched all night long, all through the woods, all the way two towns over. Nothing. Sniffer dogs couldn’t catch a trail. The police found her car two days later in New Mexico… and her body two weeks later face down in the lake.”

You wanted to reach out, say something… anything, but words failed.

“She hadn’t drowned, Y/N. She’d already been dead when they threw her in there. Post-mortem said haemorrhage… blunt force trauma to the back of her head, ligature marks, bruises…” He closed his eyes unable to continue.

You knew bits and parts of what followed– Dean’s self-destructive tendency and Sam’s unwavering support. The latter won.

“Sam still thinks he’s to blame. That he should have somehow foreseen it. I know Ellen doesn’t disagree with him or shy away from throwing it in his face.” A mirthless scoff.

“I think the bigger part of her anger is because of what Sam did to you… and me.” You said. “Or rather, what she thinks he did to you and me.”

Dean sighed. “I owe Sam a lot more than my life, a sorry and a thank you. This whole plan hinges on his resilience.”

“What plan?”

He ran a hand through his hair, but his pace slowed down. “The detective working this case, Jody Mills… she’s suspected a human trafficking ring here for years. Every few years someone goes missing or a body mysteriously appears. But this thing has its claws in so deep that we can’t trust the entire PD.”

A shiver ran down your spine.

He glanced at you briefly, and you saw the ever-present kindness there. “You’re smart. I’m sure you’ve figured out a bunch of this yourself.”

Nodding to yourself, you thought out loud. “Sam wasn’t keeping me around for sex, didn’t want to hang me as bait for kidnapping, so obviously he wants information about where I was but…” You vividly remembered the night when he’d held your bloody hand and then all but shushed your barrage when you had tried to spill it all in a haze. “He stopped me from telling him… He didn’t want to hear any of it.”

Dean chuckled. A sudden light sound in the pressing quiet. “And I just called you smart.”

“What?”

“For all your God-forsaken angst over loving Sam… Have you not considered him liking you back?” Dean narrowed his eyes as if he was judging your intelligence. “Obviously it’s hard for him to listen to what you’ve been through. Hell, I’ve choked back on what little you’ve told me. Why are you being so thick?”

Tears sprang in your eyes.

He placed a gentle hand against your cheek.

“Give yourself some credit, Y/N. As stupid as you’re being right now, how can you question your own judgement of Sam so easily? You took your time forming your opinion, didn’t you? So consider all proof objectively. He was on board with the plan from day one knowing it would wreck his reputation if I disappeared after transferring my inheritance to him, knowing he’d have to make himself a villain… all for Jo. The kid didn’t bat an eye before agreeing. What led to the fight was the very last step of the plan. After infiltrating the system, he’d have to be one of them and well…”

“Buy a girl,” you finished.

“Yes,” said Dean. The word hung heavy in the air. “Sam refused to do it at first, but it was the only way. It’s killed him since day one, Y/N. And yesterday when you said he’s no better than any of those men who hurt you…”

The tears now freely flowed down your cheek and right into Dean’s palm. He slowly directed your face into his chest, tightly wrapping his arms around you.

“Oh, what have I done?” You whispered into his jacket.

Sam had banged hard on your door last night and you never gave him a chance to explain. Not a single word. If you truly loved him, how come the trust was broken this easily? And when you refused to speak, he’d respected your consent then, too.

“I’m sorry, Dean,” you said. “I should’ve trusted him, trusted you. After all, you never coaxed anything from me. I–”

A thousand memories ran through your mind: Sam’s fingers holding up your corset, touching his hand for the first time in the entrance hall before, his laugh after the false escape from dinner. Sam handing you a portfolio, Sam showing you around the old guesthouse, his fingers slipping on your wet shirt in the barn, laughing with him on the floor of your bedroom, his voice as he read out poetry… and his lips when they met yours.

“Sam took to playing chess in high school,” said Dean as you moved back. “I don’t think he ever got too good at it, but he used to come back rambling about all these moves, the King's Gambit, the Scandanavian, the Sicilian. He didn’t have anyone to play against, so I learned the basics to humour him and we played every night before bed.”

He’d started walking again and you kept pace this time.

“So there we are one night, recreating some classic game from half a century ago and I played a different piece and well, what do you know, my king ended up in a position from where he couldn’t move. Thought I’d lost because that was the only square my King was safe in. But then Sam said that’s not what it was. I couldn’t be forced to move my King to a checked square, but it wasn’t currently checked. A stalemate is what it was. That’s where we are at, Y/N.”

“A stalemate?”

“Yes. We know pieces of information, but not the ones that actually matter. It’s our move next, but every square is checked, Y/N. We need to know.”

The dim lights of the dungeon came back to you and oddly the crack of the skull. “The operation is not local, definitely crosses state lines. The building where they kept me is somewhere along New Mexico's border. It’s a huge glass building, seven stories high. I don’t know exactly where but from the se…” you gulped. “From the seventh floor, I could see a tall red tower with blinking lights. They blinked all the time… like passing seconds… but slower than s- seconds. The boss sits on the seventh floor.”

“The boss?”

“I-I don’t know his name. No one does. They only call him ‘the boss.”

“This is good, Y/N,” Dean said eagerly. “What does he look like? How does he find these girls? How does he keep them?”

“He… He looks like any other white man, in his 50’s, maybe early 60’s but his eyes, he has the coldest gray eyes and his laugh...” You stopped, collecting your thoughts. “You already know how he gets the girls. Men as scouts, pretending to be friends or lovers, finding vulnerable girls with little in the way of family. Me… Rosalie. About keeping them, there are two ways. One is standard, get them hooked to heroin. Once you have that, they’ll do anything to get the next fix. But those girls don’t make much money, yeah? They aren’t polished. I was the second kind, for the richer clientele that don’t like the smell of drugs and want the girls alive and kicking. For them, guess, it’s easier to blackmail by holding a loved one hostage. Rosalie only had a mother and I only had Jamie and Danny.”

You told him about how your siblings were held hostage somewhere, and how you stayed in line just to protect them.

“There’s very little we wouldn’t do to protect them, wouldn’t we?”

Dean nodded, then came to a halt and you noticed with some surprise that you were standing in front of the wishing well.

His fingers grazed the parapet's tally marks, and you voiced a long-lost curiosity. “Why do you have one extra?”

“That dumbass brought you here, didn’t he?” Dean snorted. “So much for our secret place.” But he didn’t seem to hold any grudge over it. “Dad brought me here right before Sam was born. Told me this was a magic well, so I needed to make a wish about what I wanted… a sister or a brother.”

“What did you ask for?”

“You see the extra mark there, don’t you?” He winked. “After the fire, I used to run out a lot, trying to find the well again. Wish my dead parents back, you know? Finally found it when I was twelve and Sam was eight. ”

“Seems like you’ve kept pace since with the tallys.”

Dean winked as if there was a secret to it, but didn’t share it with you.

“Come on, make a wish then,” he said.

“One is already due. I don’t want to burden the well.” You sighed. “Look, Dean. I’ll help you with whatever you want. I can draw plans of the building, and the street layout I could see from the seventh floor. Tell you the number of guards, the shifts, even the names of some of the clients, but I need you to promise me that nothing will happen to my brother and sister.”

“I promise.”

The walk back should have seemed like an interrogation, except Dean held your hand as you described more of the place, the people, the process… the boss.

“I told you already, I don’t know his name,” you burst out when he questioned a third time.

Dean’s eyes narrowed. “Did he… Did he hurt you? This boss?”

You laughed. One short, shaky laugh. “He had a wall full of these instruments… silver, gleaming and so cold.” Then there was the glass wall.

“Oh, that son of a bitch.”

“I wonder why you think Jo was involved in this,” you said, more to change the subject that anything else. “I mean she didn’t exactly fit the pattern.” Full family, doting boyfriend, well-to-do. Blitz kidnapping didn’t seem likely. The boss had to have had something on her.

“No, she didn’t fit the pattern and for a long time, we didn’t suspect her to have been in this.”

“How come?”

Dean’s voice reduced to barely above a whisper. “No obvious signs of… sexual assault in the postmortem report.” And despite the tragedy of it, Dean almost sounded relieved. He pulled out an old wallet from his back pocket and gazed at a picture inside lovingly. “I don’t know, Y/N, it makes me feel like an asshole but knowing that maybe she might have escaped the worst of it… God, I think it kept me from throwing myself off a damn cliff.”

“Oh, Dean!” You closed the distance in-between to hug him. “I bet she–” you gasped. The wallet hung loosely in his grasp and you glimpsed the picture behind the plastic.

You grabbed the wallet and held it up. “That… That’s Jo? Your Jo?”

He took you by your shoulders. “You knew her?”

“Oh my God!” All the hurt and anger and fear came crashing down on you as you collapsed to the green earth of the side lawn. Over the years she had gone from being the girl in the next cell, to the girl with brown eyes, to the girl in your nightmares and eventually… the only thing you were proud of.

“She’s… she used to be the girl in the next cell. I knew her.”

“Who did this to her?” Dean asked, voice so sharp, it didn’t even sound his.

“The Boss did,” you whispered. “I think it might have been an accident. I only heard the scuffle and then the crack of her skull. It was quick. She didn’t suffer much.”

There was a sharp intake of breath over you and you didn’t dare look up.

“Dean, you should know, the girls there… eventually choose to stay there. I know I did. Once you stop with the kicking and screaming, it gets a little easier. The bad days are lesser and most clients don’t treat you like complete trash. There’s food on your plate at night and poor orphan girls have a bed to sleep in when they comply… they…. we stop fighting. Because there is no relief to fight for, no home to go to and no one who could protect us. But your Jo, she never stopped. I bet she took a few teeth out of that one guard, too.”

“Did they… did anyone ever…?” He could not spit the entire sentence out and you saw the courage it took to finally confront that question.

You looked straight in his tear-stained tortured eyes. “No one hurt her that way. I… I took her turns for the week she was there. I still don’t know why I did it. I’m not a charitable person, and it was hell that week, but something about her faith in her fiance reminded me of, well, me… before I found out how I got there. I wanted to protect her faith just a little longer. So, no Dean, no one touched her that way. And you should also know, she died like she lived, fighting and believing in your love for her.”

Dean hugged you and broke down. “Thank you… Thank you for doing that for my Jo,” he blubbered. “You’re… You’re like an angel. Sam said that you know… yesterday he said that he thought you were some kind of an angel when he first saw you dressed in white. Wasn’t wrong.”

And you broke down with Dean. The night had descended upon you, as you both held each other in the darkness and just cried.

Much later, locked in the dining room, you drew the floor plans of the building from your memory, a map of the road and the way to the bus stop that you could remember, the names of the guards, physical descriptions, names of the girls, anything and everything you could think of. The maids all gave you curious looks. Getting along with a brother-in-law would be normal for most families, but an estranged brother-in-law who you had never supposedly met? Knowing the history they knew, that had to look shady.

As it turned out, Dean had been alternating between living in the Guest house in Sam’s room and a cabin further north that not many people knew of in the estate. He knew ways to sneak in and out better than almost anyone. Hired security was never too big a problem for him. He was to set out first thing tomorrow morning to see how he could use your intel.

“You know my roommate Carmen,” you said at the door when he was about to leave. “She might have been the only one to care for me back then. I fought with her the night before. If you can do one thing for me, find her and tell her she was right and I am so very sorry.”

“Of course.” Dean stepped up and kissed your forehead. “And Y/N, I’m going to get that bastard. Not just for what he did to Jo, but also for what he did to you. You said you didn’t fight after a while because you didn’t have a home, a family. Now you do. Remember that.”

You watched Dean head out. He would be gone before you woke up tomorrow, but you felt lighter than you had in years, like the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. Upstairs, you found Abby in her room.

She stood up the moment she saw you. “Miss, is everything alright?”

“Yes, Abby. I was wondering if you knew when Sam would be back?”

“He was home earlier this evening but didn’t stay long. I believe he left for Colorado.”

Hurt. “Did he say anything about when he would return?”

“No, Miss.”

“Did he ask about me?”

“No, Miss.”

“Did he say anything at all?”

The pitying shake of her head was enough for you to turn around and return to your room. What if you had hurt Sam beyond fixing this time? Abby had been correct, he looked fragile, not just physically, but something about the fragmented look in his eyes, as if one blow could shatter him. What if your hurtful words and vitriolic accusation finally pushed him to the edge? How much bullshit could one man take after all?

You had stepped into this house thinking you would be used, and it was the most horrid feeling in the world. What if Sam thought the same now? That you had used him… used his home, his wealth, and his empathy. Hell, you had used his body, too!

No, you didn’t pray for yourself much. But in that moment you did- God, please give me one chance to apologise. Please.

*****************************

A/N 2: So turns out I was tagging all wrong :/ Ana is feeling sad about that. Hopefully, it will work this time.

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obeymeshallwedateaddict · 1 day ago

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Hello everyone!! This is the first lesson of the long awaited unofficial season 4 of Obey me Nightbringer written by yours truly <3

I will post lessons every 10 days.

I hope you enjoy it (it came out a little long but I hope it's not a problem)

Please make sure this finds other obey me lovers and people who don't want the series to end.

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

@arie2faced wanted to be tagged so there you go!

Lesson 61: “Echoes of Change”

Preparations for the Grand Gala

The story begins with you and the brothers preparing for a grand event in the Devildom—the Infernal Gala, a highly anticipated celebration hosted by Diavolo to showcase unity and strength among the three realms. The brothers are busy with their individual tasks, and you help them throughout the day, making sure none of them are slacking off and checking the quality of their work.

Morning with Mammon

You find Mammon frantically trying to pick an outfit in his room, clothes scattered everywhere. He groans as he holds up a jacket, glaring at it like it personally offended him.

Mammon: “This stupid thing doesn’t fit right! What if I don’t look good enough? Diavolo’ll never let me hear the end of it!”

You: “You’re overthinking it, Mammon. You look great in anything.”

You pick up a sleek black jacket with gold trim from the pile and hold it up to him.

You: “Here, try this one. It suits you.”

Mammon grumbles but puts it on. When he turns to the mirror, his expression softens.

Mammon: “Huh. Guess it ain’t too bad… But y’know, it’s only ‘cause you picked it. You’ve got good taste.”

He pauses, scratching the back of his neck as he glances at you.

Mammon: “I dunno what I’d do without ya. Don’t tell the others, but… you’re my good luck charm, so stick close, alright?”

Afternoon with Leviathan

Levi is in his room, staring nervously at a stack of invitation cards. You peek in and see him pacing.

You: “Levi, what’s wrong?”

Leviathan: “It’s the Gala! There’s gonna be so many people there. What if I mess up? What if someone tries to talk to me and I freeze up?!”

You gently take his hands, grounding him.

You: “You’ll do great, Levi. And I’ll be there if you need me. We’re a team, remember?”

Levi calms down a little, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

Leviathan: “Y-Yeah, I guess you’re right. I mean, with you around, I don’t have to worry as much. You’re like my Player Two in this crazy multiplayer game called life.”

He hesitates, then smiles shyly.

Leviathan: “Thanks. I mean it. You’re, like… my favorite rare find.”

Library with Satan

Satan is in the library, scanning a shelf filled with ancient tomes. He looks up when you enter, a small smile playing on his lips.

Satan: “Perfect timing. I was looking for this.”

He hands you a book bound in emerald green, the title in golden script: "The Legends of the Infernal Gala."

Satan: “I thought you might like to know more about the Gala’s history. It’s fascinating, really—did you know it started as a peace treaty celebration?”

You sit together, flipping through the pages. At one point, your fingers brush, and Satan pauses.

Satan: “You always surprise me. You’re curious, thoughtful, and unafraid to stand by us—even when things get complicated.”

He leans closer, his voice softer.

Satan: “I hope you know how much that means to me."

Dressing Room with Asmodeus

Asmo is in his room, surrounded by a dizzying array of outfits. He twirls in front of the mirror, striking a pose.

Asmodeus: “Tell me, which one screams ‘absolutely irresistible’? This one, or…”

He switches to another outfit, beaming at you.

You: “They’re both amazing, Asmo. You always look stunning.”

Asmodeus: (grinning) “Oh, you always know just what to say. But you know what? I think I’ll wear something that complements you. After all, we’ll be the center of attention together.”

He steps closer, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

Asmodeus: “You have this way of making me feel… special. Like I don’t need to try so hard, because I’m enough just as I am. Thank you for that."

Kitchen with Beelzebub

Beel is in the kitchen, preparing snacks for the event. You help him arrange platters of food, the smell of freshly baked bread filling the air.

Beelzebub: “Thanks for helping. I usually just eat everything, but it feels nice to make something for others.”

As you finish, Beel offers you a piece of chocolate from the tray, his expression soft.

Beelzebub: “You’re always looking out for us. It makes me want to do the same for you.”

He smiles, his usual straightforward honesty shining through.

Beelzebub: “You’re like family to me… but also more than that. I’m glad you’re here.”

Attic with Belphegor

Belphie is lying on a pile of blankets in the attic, staring at the ceiling. You join him, and he shifts to make room.

Belphegor: “The Gala’s gonna be exhausting. Too many people, too much noise. But at least you’ll be there.”

He closes his eyes, his voice soft.

Belphegor: “You’re the only one who makes all this bearable, you know. Stay with me a while. Just you and me, away from everything else.”

You rest beside him, and for a moment, the world feels quiet.

Study with Lucifer

Lucifer is in his study, reviewing event schedules and security measures. He looks up as you enter, his expression softening.

Lucifer: “Ah, I was just going over the final details. It’s a relief to see you—you have a calming effect, even on someone like me.”

You share a quiet moment, the crackling of the fireplace filling the silence. Lucifer pours you a glass of Demonus, his movements elegant.

Lucifer: “The Infernal Gala represents unity, strength, and peace. But for me… it’s also a reminder of how far we’ve come.”

He gazes at you, his eyes filled with warmth.

Lucifer: “You’ve been a part of that journey. More than you realize.”

The calm shatteres

The next morning, you are in the gardens of the House of Lamentation, enjoying a rare moment of peace. The sky is a deep, rich purple, with faint stars twinkling above. Beelzebub joins you, carrying a tray of snacks.

Beelzebub: “You’ve been quiet today. Something on your mind?”

You: (smiling softly) “Not really. Just thinking about how calm everything feels right now. It’s… nice.”

Beelzebub: (sitting beside you) “Yeah. Feels like it’s been a while since things were this peaceful. Lucifer hasn’t yelled at anyone today, and Mammon hasn’t set anything on fire… yet.”

You both share a laugh, but before the moment can last, a faint tremor shakes the ground. Beel jumps to his feet.

Beelzebub: “What was that?”

A ripple of energy passes through the garden, and several flowers wilt instantly. The air feels charged, heavy. You feel a faint pulse from your pact mark, though you don’t fully understand it yet.

You and Beel rush inside the House of Lamentation, where chaos has already begun. Furniture is floating, magical items are malfunctioning, and the brothers are in disarray.

Mammon: (running around) “Somebody fix this! My wallet turned into a bat and flew off! That’s my life savings in there!”

Leviathan: (clutching his D.D.D.) “Do you know how many hours of gameplay I just lost?! This is worse than the Great Reset of Akuzon Prime!”

Lucifer: (trying to remain composed) “Everyone, calm down. Panicking will accomplish nothing.”

Belphegor: (yawning) “Wake me when this is over. Or don’t. I’m fine either way.”

You notice your pact mark faintly glowing whenever the chaos intensifies. Asmodeus steps in, looking alarmed.

Asmodeus: “Is it just me, or does the energy in the house feel… weird? It’s like something’s out of sync.”

Before anyone can respond, the chandelier shatters with a loud crash. Lucifer’s patience snaps.

Lucifer: “Enough! Everyone, to the Demon Lord’s Castle—now. Diavolo needs to hear about this immediately.”

Emergency Meeting with Diavolo

The group arrives at the Demon Lord’s Castle. Diavolo greets you all with a worried expression, his usual jovial demeanor replaced by a more serious air. Barbatos stands quietly by his side, his gaze sharp and observant.

Diavolo: “Ah, you’ve arrived. I trust you’ve noticed the disturbances, then?”

Lucifer: “Noticed is an understatement. The House of Lamentation is in complete disarray. What’s causing this?”

Diavolo’s expression tightens, and he motions for you all to take a seat.

Diavolo: “It’s more than just your house, Lucifer. The magical ley lines that run through the Devildom are experiencing unusual fluctuations. Spells are failing, spells are overloading… and the environment itself is becoming unstable.”

Diavolo remains silent for a short while before speaking again.

Diavolo: "Remember when a few months ago the Devildom moon begun moving closer to us? And how MC stopped it with the help of (name of the brother you chose in lesson 60)? I think it might be somehow related to all this.

Barbatos: (nodding gravely) “We’ve been monitoring the situation for the past few weeks, but the source remains elusive. The ley lines should remain stable, but we are seeing powerful surges in energy that we cannot explain.”

Simeon: (calmly interjecting) “It’s a troubling situation, indeed. I’ve been sensing something off as well, but I can’t make sense of it.”

Solomon: (looking up from his scrolls) “The balance between the realms is delicate. It’s entirely possible this disturbance has something to do with the convergence of magical energies—perhaps even beyond our realm’s control.”

Luke: (clutching his little angel staff nervously) “So... we’re all in danger?”

Mephistopheles: (snickering from the corner) “Well, that depends on what you call ‘danger.’ There’s always a way to spin these things to our favor, you know.”

Raphael: (stoically) “We need to investigate this matter thoroughly. If there’s a threat, we’ll need to handle it swiftly, for the sake of everyone’s safety.”

Thirteen: (suddenly appearing with a slight chuckle) “It’s always so serious when you guys talk like this. How about we enjoy the chaos a little bit?”

The group’s attention is drawn back to Diavolo, who remains focused despite the tension.

Diavolo: “We’ve heard your concerns. But I must ask, how does this all relate to the Infernal Gala? If these disturbances continue, it could be catastrophic.”

Lucifer: “The Gala is already under heavy scrutiny. If the realm’s stability is at risk, Diavolo, this could be a catastrophic blow to the reputation of the Devildom.”

Asmodeus: “Oh, I can’t imagine the disaster. The Gala’s atmosphere would be ruined if the magical energies continue to fluctuate like this. People will notice, and chaos would break out if they suspect anything is wrong.”

Beelzebub: (his voice low and serious) “If things continue like this, there’s a real danger of even the food and drinks being affected. Imagine the mess if everything starts malfunctioning at the event.”

Lucifer: “Exactly. And with all the high-profile guests we’re expecting… We must act swiftly.”

Diavolo stands up, his usual warmth replaced by a rare intensity.

Diavolo: “For now, I ask all of you to stay vigilant. If you notice anything unusual—anything at all—report it immediately. The Gala must go off without a hitch, for the sake of maintaining peace and stability. But we must also prepare for the possibility that something more sinister is at play.”

Barbatos: (calmly) “We will continue investigating, but please, if you feel anything strange—if there’s any oddity you experience—don’t hesitate to tell us. The more information we have, the better.”

Lucifer: (looking directly at you) “You, especially. I’m sure you’ve felt it, too. These disturbances seem… connected to you.”

The room falls silent again as all eyes shift toward you. You feel a weight settling on your shoulders, the pressure building.

Diavolo: (smiling reassuringly) “You’ve done well so far. But now, we must prepare for whatever comes next. The Gala is crucial, but our first priority must be understanding the root cause of these events. If there’s a connection between you and this instability… we’ll need to address it quickly.”

As you nod in response, a sense of foreboding fills the air. The once-bustling preparations for the Gala seem like a distant memory now, overshadowed by the uncertainty surrounding the disruptions.

A talk with Solomon

After the emergency meeting, you wander through the halls of the House of Lamentation, the weight of the situation pressing on you. The magical disturbances, the instability in the Devildom... you feel like you're on the edge of something bigger, but you can't quite grasp it.

A soft voice interrupts your thoughts.

Solomon: "You're still awake, huh? I figured you might be here."

You turn and see Solomon leaning against the doorframe, his usual playful expression replaced by one of concern. He steps into the hallway, his gaze never leaving you.

You: “I don’t understand any of this… It feels like everything’s connected, but I don’t know how or why.”

Solomon walks up to you, his footsteps slow and deliberate. He looks at you with a knowing look, as though he’s been waiting for this conversation.

Solomon: “I can see why you’re confused. The fluctuations... the disruptions in the ley lines, they’re not random. They’re a result of your presence here.”

You: (frowning) “My presence?”

Solomon: (nodding) “It’s complicated. There’s something about your connection to the brothers, your dual pacts, that’s causing the instability. It’s as if the power between you and them is... too much for the realms to handle.”

You feel a jolt of realization. The dual pacts. You hadn’t thought about the significance of them, but it makes sense now. Solomon's words seem to echo in your mind, each one a small revelation.

You: “So... you think the dual pacts are the reason this is happening?”

Solomon hesitates for a moment, then nods, his eyes serious.

Solomon: “I’m beginning to suspect that’s the case. The way your power interacts with theirs... it’s creating more energy than the ley lines can accommodate. It’s like a pressure building up, and when too much energy is focused in one place, the balance of the realms starts to break down.”

You swallow, trying to process it all. Your mind races through everything you’ve experienced—the strange pull of the pact mark, the disruptions, the growing tension. It all leads back to the pacts.

You: “But why now? Why is this only happening now?”

Solomon: (with a sigh) “It didn't start now. Actually it's been going on for a while now. Remember how the moon was getting progressively closer and closer a few months ago? I suspect that's also due to your magic. But for all I know the dual pacts were never meant to be this powerful. They’re an anomaly.”

You: “So, everything that’s happening... it’s my fault?”

Solomon: (softly) “Not your fault. But your presence, your bond with the brothers—it’s a key factor. I should’ve been more cautious. I knew the pacts were risky, but I didn’t expect something like this would happen.”

You feel your heart race as you try to understand the magnitude of what Solomon is telling you. The chaos, the disruptions... you feel like you’re at the center of it all, and it’s terrifying.

You: “How do we fix this?”

Solomon takes a step closer, his gaze softening. His hand gently rests on your shoulder, and you feel a comforting warmth from his touch.

Solomon: “We’ll figure it out. Together. The brothers... they’re linked to this too, and we’ll need their help. But we can’t do it alone. The dual pacts are too unpredictable.”

For a moment, you both stand in silence, the weight of his words settling in. The chaos, the stakes... it feels like everything is changing too fast. Yet, with Solomon’s presence, there’s a sense of calm. You find comfort in his understanding.

You: “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Solomon smiles, but there’s a warmth in his eyes that makes your heart flutter, though he doesn't say anything for a moment. He simply pulls you into a gentle embrace, holding you close, offering a silent promise.

Solomon: “You’ll never have to find out.”

You lean into his chest, the tension in your body slowly melting away. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, and for the briefest moment, the world outside feels a little more bearable.

Solomon: “We’ll fix this. We’ll make sure the Gala goes off without a hitch, and we’ll find the cause of all this. But until then... just know that I’m here.”

You look up at him, your voice quiet but firm.

You: “Thank you, Solomon. I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel like I’m... not alone in this anymore.”

Solomon’s smile deepens, and he leans in, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead.

Solomon: “You’re never alone, MC. Not with me by your side.”

The Pact’s Secret Emerges

Later that evening, while the brothers are asleep, you are drawn to the library by an inexplicable force. You find an old book glowing faintly on the shelf and open it. The pages are filled with ancient symbols you can’t understand. Suddenly, a familiar voice interrupts you.

Barbatos: (appearing silently behind you) “Curious, isn’t it? That book is one of the oldest records in the castle. It documents the nature of pacts and their potential… consequences.”

You jump in surprise, quickly closing the book.

You: “Barbatos! You scared me. I didn’t mean to—”

Barbatos: (smiling slightly) “You needn’t apologize. It’s no coincidence that you were drawn to this book.”

Barbatos steps closer, his gaze calm but piercing.

Barbatos: “Tell me, since your return from the past, have you noticed anything… unusual? A change in your magic, perhaps? Or a resonance with the brothers’ powers?”

You stiffen.

You: “What do you mean by ‘return from the past’? How do you know about that?”

Barbatos: (tilting his head slightly) “I am the steward of time. There are few events that escape my notice.”

Your eyes widen. You clutch the book tightly, unsure of how to respond.

You: “I… I haven’t told anyone except Solomon. How much do you know?”

Barbatos: “Enough to understand that your journey was no mere coincidence. It was necessary, though its ripple effects are only now beginning to manifest.”

You: “Ripple effects…? Are you saying all of this—the disturbances in the Devildom—are my fault?”

Barbatos: (softly) “Fault is a strong word. Responsibility, perhaps. But do not misunderstand—your presence here is essential. You hold the key to stabilizing the realm.”

Barbatos’ gaze sharpens as he steps closer, his voice lowering to a near whisper.

Barbatos: “However, I must warn you: secrets have a way of surfacing when the time is right. The truth will not remain hidden forever—not from the brothers, nor from yourself.”

He gestures toward the glowing book.

Barbatos: “Keep this between us for now. But be vigilant. The bonds you share with the brothers are deeper and more intricate than even you realize.”

After the encounter, Barbatos is in his room, standing over a magical map of the Devildom. Glowing lines represent the ley lines, which are flickering and unstable. He traces his fingers over the map, frowning as he notices a disturbing pattern.

Barbatos: (to himself) “The fluctuations are growing stronger, converging toward a single point. If this trajectory continues…”

He pauses, his expression darkening.

Barbatos: “…even the combined power of the brothers may not be enough to stop what’s coming.”

The map reveals the convergence point glowing ominously—a location deep within the Devildom that remains unidentified.

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po3tbbygirl · 12 hours ago

Text

We’ve built a home

Spencer Reid x fem!reader (oneshot)

desc: In a place that never felt like home, reader’s grown tired of explaining herself—until someone finally listens.

content warnings: pre-established relationship, emotional distress, crying, cultural differences.

a/n: your girlie is OUT of her home country and you can tell 😖😖 I lowk cried a lot writing this…

Italicization = foreign/your language

She hated Virginia.

She hated how far she had to drive just to get to work, wishing she could go back to the days when her commute was a simple 15-minute bus ride.

She hated how every craving for her favorite foods came with the bitter truth that she’d have to make them herself. No restaurant around here could even come close to capturing the flavors of her culture.

She hated how much of herself she had to explain to people. Why she talked the way she did. Why she did certain things that felt so natural to her but seemed strange here. She was always defending or translating her life, just to avoid being misunderstood as weird, rude, or too nice.

Her days felt heavy, and even her dream job wasn’t enough to make up for how lonely and out of place she felt. Virginia wasn’t home. It never would be. But then Spencer came along.

He was lanky, with messy brown hair and a quiet awkwardness that made her smile despite herself. At first, he was just someone she met by chance. But over time, he became the one thing that made everything easier. Brighter. Lighter.

Of course, she still had to explain some things to him—he didn’t know her culture at first. But it was different with Spencer.

When she told him she needed lime with almost every meal, he didn’t question her. Instead, he made sure their kitchen was always stocked with it. Sometimes he’d even bring home extra, just to be safe.

When after playing chess or watching movies they’d accidentally pass the 3 a.m. mark and she just had to stay up until 4 a.m. for no real reason other than luck, he stayed up with her. No complaints. No judgment.

When Christmas came, and she explained how her family celebrated—eating pork, drinking fruit punch, praying together, singing songs, and breaking piñatas—he didn’t hesitate to join in. He did everything he could to honor her traditions, even when they were completely new to him.

And when she cried while setting up the ofrendas for her loved ones who had passed, Spencer didn’t try to fix it. He simply sat beside her, holding her hand and letting her cry, showing her she wasn’t alone.

Spencer wasn’t just good to her. He was perfect for her. He made her feel understood in a way she hadn’t thought was possible.

But there were still some things even Spencer couldn’t fix—or so she thought.

౨ৎ

“Ugh,” she groaned as she walked through the door, tossing her keys into the bowl by the door.

Spencer looked up from the couch, where he’d been reading a book. He frowned, setting it aside. “Hey… what’s wrong?”

She sighed, staying silent as she kicked off her shoes and leaned against the wall. Her face looked tense, like she was fighting back tears.

“I’m just tired,” she finally said, her voice strained.

Spencer straightened, concern etched across his face. “Tell me.”

“You wouldn’t get it.”

“Try me.”

She hesitated, standing frozen in the middle of the kitchen. She looked up, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

“I’m tired of explaining myself,” she said, her voice trembling. “I’m tired of people staring at my food at lunch. I’m tired of explaining why I talk the way I do, why I act the way I do.” She paused, her tears falling faster now. “And I’m especially tired of people thinking I’m dumb or slow just because I need a second to find the right word. They don’t realize I’m not thinking in the language they are speaking. I’m not stupid—I just need time. But no one seems to get that, and I’m so tired of it!”

Her voice cracked as she let out a sob, her body shaking with all the emotions she had kept bottled up for so long. “I can’t take it anymore. It’s driving me crazy!”

“Love…” Spencer’s voice was soft, steady.

She froze. The sound of his voice saying that one word in her language stopped her in her tracks.

He stood from the couch, walking toward her. Her tears slowed as she watched him approach, her shock keeping her in place.

“I know it’s hard,” Spencer said, his hands gently taking hers. “I know you hurt. And it kills me to see you like this. Every time you have to explain yourself to some ignorant person who will just shut you down, who doesn’t deserve to understand you, I become the saddest man alive.”

She stared at him, the warmth of his hands grounding her as her tears continued to fall.

“I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you this,” he said, dropping down onto both knees in front of her. “I know we have only been dating for a little over a year and know this isn’t a proposal because you deserve so much more than me kneeling in the living room in my ugly pajamas,”

Her breath hitched as she watched him, her heart pounding in her chest.

“But I promise you—no, I swear to you—that as long as you’ll have me, you’ll never have to explain yourself again. Not to me. You won’t have to feel like you need to translate your heart or your soul to me because I’ll keep learning. I’ll keep trying. All I need from you, my love, is to be you. The raw, beautiful, unfiltered version of you. And I’m ready for that. I’m ready for you.”

Her jaw dropped, and for a moment, she couldn’t move. No one had ever made this much effort for her before. No one had ever tried to understand her this deeply.

Without thinking, she knelt down in front of him, cupping his face in her hands. “I’m so sorry this isn’t a proposal, Spencer,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Because after what you just said… I don’t think I can do anything but want to marry you.”

They both laughed through their tears, and Spencer playfully shifted onto one knee. They stayed like that for a long moment, staring into each other’s eyes.

Finally, Spencer spoke, his tone serious. “I mean it, love. From now on, if you don’t ever want to speak a word of English to me again, you don’t have to. I’m ready for that part of you. You don’t have to hide it anymore.”

Her tears flowed freely again, but this time, they were tears of joy. Relief. Love. “Spencer… thank you,” she whispered. “I love you.”

He smiled, his eyes shining. “I love you.”

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #Spencer Reid x foreign!reader #spencer reid one shot #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid angst

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mnnuni · 3 days ago

Text

Into you

Elliot Stabler x reader

Summary: an undercover operation that exposes some other kind of secrets

Words: 4498

Warnings: mentions of drugs, eventual smut -but very filthy-

Author's note: first of all, sorry if it's too long. Second, yes it is based on Ariana's song, or at least the movie it started in my head when I heard the song on shuffle. Little note in the note: this story is not necessarily in any time and place of the series, I just included Munch and Cassidy because I'm (kinda re)watching season 1 and I love them so much.

* gif and images from Pinterest

* dividers from @cafekitsune

"You're sure you want to do this?"

(Y/N) couldn't say how many times Olivia had already asked her that question, in different ways and places of the district.

She inhaled, closed her eyes

You can do it

"I'm sure Liv, don't worry"

Her colleague smiled at her through the mirror, "then let's finish this make up".

Their team was organising an undercover operation in a fancy club, it was an easy thing : go in, find the drugs, go out.

Of course there was a little detail that determined how the operation was gonna be; this club had a high standard for its clientele and specific rules they had to follow, number one being : "only couples allowed".

Now, the easy take was to send the infamous Benson and Stabler and call it a day, but Olivia couldn't because she had too many extra hours covered already. The next couple would have been (Y/N) and Cassidy, if Munch wouldn't have explained for ten minutes straight how Brian wasn't ready to do a thing like that.

So that left her to work with Elliot.

If it was a normal job (Y/N) wouldn't have worries of any kind, Elliot was a good cop and she trusted him with her life; but going out in a club made for sex and whatnot, faking being the girlfriend of the coworker she so desperately wanted ... that was another thing. That was also the reason why Olivia was so concerned for her, she was the only one that caught (Y/N) staring at her partner in a different way someday -at least she hoped so, even if the others could have known they never said anything-

Elliot was done dressing up ten minutes ago and everyone was growing bored to wait for the women.

"You done playing, ladies?" Munch started screaming and pounding on the door of the locker room, "come on we don't have all night".

When the duo got out the first thing the men noticed were (Y/N)'s legs : she wore a deep blue-almost black dress, it almost reached the knees on the right leg and was shorter on the left. Cassidy whistled when his eyes travelled up her figure and landed on her chest, tightly held up by the dress straps. (Y/N) did a spin, moving her curled hairs in the process and showed her half-bare back.

"Well Miss (Y/L/N) can surely do the work"

"Thank you Much", she was trying so hard not to fumble dressed like this in front of her colleagues, but they didn't have to know that.

"Y-you have, um, I can see your lace" Cassidy said pointing at her upper body, he tried to smirk and be flirty but he got too caught up when (Y/N) got closer "It's intentional Brian, now don't get too flustered". Munch chuckled and his partner was about to defend himself when Cragen cleared his throat and announced they were ready to go.

Elliot was the only one to not say a single word. Noone knew that was because his brain short circuited for a moment seeing (Y/N) like that.

I'm so into you

I can barely breathe

Even in the car to the club he remained silent, too caught up in his head, until they were almost there and (Y/N) was about to explode "now that we're still off, are you okay?" ; her voice startled him for a moment, he nodded and mumbled a sure and kept driving. Five minutes later they were parking.

Elliot took a big breath and finally turned to face her, "okay, so, if someone or something triggers you at any moment for any reason, you tell me and we're out" she nodded and then saw their van stopping few meters away so she leaned in to Elliot and searched in his jacket to switch the microphone, "do you hear us?", someone in the van switched the headlights on and off to answer her, "let's go then"

Elliot got out of the car and went to open the door for her, proceeding to take her arm in his to walk to the club. At the entrance there were two big men with the guest lists, "Stabler", he looked at them for a moment then checked his papers. It was a strangely nice feeling to be part of the "Two for Stabler", (Y/N) wanted to feel like this for real not just for a job.

The man stepped aside and opened the door for them; the first thing they saw was the wardrobe where (Y/N) left her jacket, then they were guided to a red lit corridor that ended to a glass door. There they were, in the middle of the upper class most scandalous nights, they were walking arm in arm between politicians, rich entrepreneurs and whores.

They walked to the bar to have a full view of the room: in the centre there was a little stage for the dj and the eventual singers, all around there were occupied tables, at the left side there were sort of cabins to be more private and to the right big glass doors that they knew took to the private rooms.

(Y/N) was the one facing the bar, counting all the staff members while Elliot, next to her, scanned the rest of the room to search their suspects.

"What can I get you, beautiful?"

(Y/N) was sure the bartender talked to her just because he was mere inches apart from her face, otherwise she wouldn't have think he would have flirted with her, while at work.

Elliot turned in an instant, placing his arm around her back "she would have a Martini, and a soda for me" he was shooting daggers to the poor man, who instantly backed away to do their orders.

(Y/N) was looking at him with a clear expression of "was that necessary?" and he just got closer to her, "what? You're mine tonight"

Her eyebrows shot up so fast she thought she was losing them; Elliot too was a little surprised by his choice of words, even if he so desperately wanted them to be true and not just for tonight.

But close ain't close enough

'Til we cross the line, hey, yeah

So name a game to play

And I'll roll the dice, hey

(Y/N) smirked and turned to face him, "you should..." she bit her lip and unbuttoned his shirt a little "I think it's better like this"

The bartender came back with their glasses before Elliot could say anything, "thank you" she looked at his tag "Brandon" he smiled and was about to go back to work but (Y/N) reached out and took his hand "excuse my boyfriend here, he's not used to share me" he smiled "no I'm sorry, I didn't gather you two were..." Elliot brought her to his chest "together? Yes"

"Tell me Brandon, is there a way we could use your private services?"

Elliot knew that they had to, but oh was he nervous to be in a bedroom with her.

"Did you make a reservation?"

She shook her head, "don't worry, you can wait at one of the private tables. One of us will call you when you can go in the rooms", he then guided them to the right side of the club.

To any possible looker these two were one of the other couples tangled in eachother, waiting for a new experience. In reality (Y/N) had her legs on Elliot's ones to be more closer and be clearly heard in the microphone, she was describing every customer to whoever was listening to them in order to have a complete list of witnesses, just in case. She drank a little and then went to play with Elliott's shirt's collar; he had one of his hands gripping her thighs and the other arm around her, laid on the back of the sofa and occasionally brushing strands of hair off her face.

They were so fucking close to each other.

Every now and then Elliot mumbled something, just to not look suspicious but he really couldn't formulate something longer that two sentences with (Y/N)'s lips so close to his face.

After the longest twenty-five minutes of his life a man cleared his throat next to them, Elliot was so scared of the possibility this was just another flirty guy who wanted to try it with (Y/N) -this open sex club was extremely hard to accept for a man like him- but fortunately it was the chauffeur for the rooms. He led them to the big glass doors and left them in another corridor with a pair of keys and the number five on them.

After he left them alone it was the first instant when they weren't touching in any way and they missed the contact immediately, so much that Elliot took her hand in his.

(Y/N) exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holdin when Elliot closed the door of their room, "okay, so report of the room : massive bed"

They started to search in every corner for anything that could help them with the operation while describing everything out loud.

"I've never seen this many condoms in my life" she suddenly said after opening two drawers, Elliot blushed looking at her with the envelopes in her hands. "Also, the flavour matches the one of the condoms found in the hotel, so now we have the confirmation that they're from here"

"How are you so sure?"

"Well for one, I have the assurance that no pharmacy ever has sold "coke flavored condoms" and because there's the name of the club on the envelope"

He just nodded, "right" and proceeded to open another drawer "oh look we have toys too", Elliot picked up a pair of fluffy handcuffs and showed them to her, "you like 'em detective?"

Was he...nah

Either way, she couldn't let him win, so she marched to him to whisper "I tend to use them to others, not me"

Oh, baby, look what you started

The temperature's rising in here

They were ready to inspect anything further when (Y/N) heard walking from the corridors, "someone's coming" "what?" and then a knock on the room next to them "they're entering the rooms" Elliot whispered.

"Loose the jacket"

He was about to ask why, but he knew better than to question her; she was so hot commanding orders. He carefully positioned the jacket on the back of a chair "I'm gonna put you here guys". When he turned back he found (Y/N) sat on the bed, taking off her heels "what are you-?" "We're supposed to look couply here, we can't be caught investigating" she obviously was right, but Elliot was in a very difficult position here now after she shoved him on the bed.

"So we're..." he was making some gesture with his hands while (Y/N) tried to find the courage to do something, "we have to" "yeah" and then he sat straight on the bed, waiting, thinking.

Elliot didn't have time before (Y/N) moved slightly her dress and positioned herself on his lap whit her legs on either side of him

Is this gonna happen?

Been waiting and waiting for you to make a move (ooh, ooh)

Before I make a move (ooh, ooh)

"Are you sure?"

Elliot was literally burning up.

Then she took his hands and put them on her hips, nodding. They felt so good on her.

They heard more loud walking so they inched closer, then a knock "room service";

So, baby, come light me up

And maybe I'll let you on it

A little bit dangerous

But, baby, that's how I want it

Poor guy didn't get an answer because they launched at each other to kiss. One of Elliot's hands travelled to her exposed back and the other gripped her hips more firmly. (Y/N)'s lips tasted of lipstick and were so soft to his rough kiss he wanted to die like this;

A little less conversation and a little more touch my body

'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you

her hands were gripping his hair and taking him even closer to her. When her breasts pressed to his chest and he felt her lace to his portion of exposed-by-the-unbottoned-shirt pecs he was losing it, Elliot moved her hips on him and that's when she moaned in his mouth.

At the other side of the microphone their colleagues were a mix of confused and delighted.

Got everyone watchin' us

So, baby, let's keep it secret

A little bit scandalous

But, baby, don't let them see it

"Are they...?" Cassidy was having the time of his life when (Y/N) moaned

"They are" they could hear Elliot's now because (Y/N) was kissing his neck "they so are", confirmed Olivia and Munch.

That's when another knock was heard and finally the person opened the door.

The couple got off each other's lips just because the guy excused himself. Then reality came back down again.

Elliot moved to hear the man better, putting his hands under (Y/N)'s butt to cover her.

"I'm sorry to interrupt you, I am at your service tonight" he had a tray with champagne in his hand and just a pair of trousers on. (Y/N) didn't falter for a second there, getting up and meeting their guest, "oh don't be sorry, we got a little carried away"

She could hear Cassidy chuckles in her head.

"I'm (Y/N), come meet my boyfriend" she took the tray from him and gestured for the guy to sit next to Elliot, who introduced himself. She then sat on the other side of the guy, putting her legs on both the men's ones; Elliot gave her a side glance at how comfortable she looked putting herself on this guy.

"Tell us..."

"Caleb"

She smiled, "Caleb, how does it work, your service?"

He proceeded to explain how they were a fancy club for couples who wanted to explore their sexual lives, he didn't know but the more he talked the more criminal sentences he was giving this place. Elliot was more than pleased to look at (Y/N) flirt and touch this man to give them everything and more they needed.

"And tell me, is there a way to have some... Incentives?" she got up to sit down on Elliot again, "you see my boyfriend here has a hard time with all my eccentricities, but he's willing to try tonight and I'm sure that with some magical helps he would love to have the both of us"

Elliot was dying under her caresses.

The guy was starting to negate the service when he jumped in the ring again, "we're willing to pay more, of course"

Caleb's eyes lit up then; he agreed and got up to a wall, pressed some invisible buttons and revealed a cabinet full of any kind of powders.

"Now the party can start"

This was (Y/N)'s signal to the team to start moving.

While Elliot was next to Caleb pretending to choose what would have been his poison, they heard some commotion from the outside. They didn't break character for a minute, (Y/N) was comfortably laying on the bed when Munch got the door down and declared the guy under arrest.

"Finally"

Now, the easy part was done: the club was shot down, the owners were arrested and the ADA had so much proof to put everyone working there behind bars that they even thanked the team.

The hard times were just about to start when an hour later they were still at the precinct doing reports; Elliot and (Y/N) didn't have a chance to talk yet and she was almost grateful for this, what could she even possibly say? Sorry if I devoured your face and I used our operation as an excuse to make out to you?!

She kept her head low and just wrote in the files for the entire time, she was also grateful no one said anything about their work -even if she was sure Cassidy and Munch had some sly remarks ready the instant she and Elliot walked out the doors, Olivia only threatened them if they talked. (Y/N) could sense Brian's struggle to shut up at the desk in front of her-

Meanwhile Elliot was just opposite her, on the other side of the room and couldn't take his eyes off of her; they were still in their clothes, (Y/N) just raised her hairs with a clip -which made her ten times sexier in his opinion- and got free of her heels. He did just half the report because he was too engrossed in looking at her, how calmed she seemed while she worked and how she bit her lip from time to time while thinking about bigger words to fill her papers. But mostly he couldn't stop thinking about how stupid he was to not talk to her yet, after he had the best kiss of his life and just wanted to repeat it forever.

(Y/N) was painfully oblivious to Elliot's stare, too preoccupied to avoid taking notice of Cassidy eyes moving from Munch to Elliot -they had practically cleaned her lipstick stains on Elliot's lips and neck for the amount of times they looked at them-

When she was done she got up, handed over her files and went away; she just squeezed Olivia's shoulder on the way, but didn't say a word to anyone.

It took Elliot the time she started the car and drove off to understand he had to move too, but only after Cassidy threw him an eraser and Olivia screamed at him to "go take his girl".

It made him smile to think about her that way.

The knock (Y/N) heard from her door were so strong and determined she instantly went to see whose was, she opened the door with a confused expression on her face.

"Hi"

She just made him space on the door to enter her apartment.

Elliot didn't know where to start, how could he explain things to her when he didn't stop and thought about it?! He inhaled a big breath and prepared himself for a big monologue.

This could take some time, hey

I made too many mistakes

Better get this right, right, baby

"First of all, I'm sorry" she was about to answer but he made a motion with his hand to stop her, "please let me get this all out first"

"Sure, right", (Y/N) sat on the couch and invited him to join her -she was actually shitting herself considering his tone, but she sensed that he needed this moment so she'd wait to do anything, even if she'd wanted to crumble right then and there-

Elliot took a place next to her, diverting his legs in order to face her. Ugh.

Tell me what you came here for

'Cause I can't, I can't wait no more

I'm on the edge with no control

And I need, I need you to know

You to know, oh, yeah

"I'm sorry if anything that I did, or didn't do tonight made you uncomfortable. I wasn't expecting the turn that took the night, but I must specify I was pleasantly surprised."

Maybe (Y/N) could restart breathing.

"(Y/N) you're an amazing woman, I admire you as a cop and I love working with you"

Why did this sound like a rejection? Or worse, a goodbye!?

"But most of all, I loved kissing you tonight"

Oh shit

He took her hands in his, "I know that we're supposed to be professional and I don't want to seem irrational right now, but I'd really fucking like to kiss you again, more then once"

She was flabbergasted. She couldn't form a thought, her jaw was on the floor and her heart was beating at the rate of a heart attack.

"Please say something"

So, baby, come light me up (light me up)

And maybe I'll let you on it

A little bit dangerous (dangerous)

But, baby, that's how I want it (how I want it)

A little less conversation and a little more touch my body

'Cause I'm so into you, into you, into you

(Y/N) pulled him from the shirt and kissed him, more confident than before. She pressed him to her putting her arms around his neck, while his found her waist; she opened her mouth to taste his tongue and he fucking groaned through the kiss, she was ready to fight his tongue for dominance when he pulled away.

"So I guess you..."

"Yes Elliot" she kissed the corner of his mouth "I like you too" and then his jaw "and I really like to kiss you" moving to his neck "and I'd like to do it for quite some time, if you'd like"

"I would love to", he was turning his face to kiss her again but she got closer to his ear to whisper something, "I would also want for you to fuck me, like right now" and then she smirked.

She didn't give him time to do anything because she ran away to her bedroom; Elliot woke up from his trans and followed her, finding her in front of the mirror trying to get away from her dress. He came up behind her and took her hands' place on her zipper.

He unzipped it so slowly, kissing every inch he discovered and then let the dress fall at her feet.

"Fuck"

He palmed her naked breasts, still looking at (Y/N) through the mirror, her head fell on his chest from the pleasure.

"I think you're too much covered" she decided when she turned around and got unbuttoned his shirt with one powerful move.

"Ehi! I liked that shirt" Elliot himself knew he was only half complaining, "I like it better off" she fucking licked her lips looking at his bare torso.

(Y/N) kissed every part of his chest, from the clavicle to his pecs; she sucked one of his nipples and was happily pleased when she realised his breath was becoming more erratic. She trailed her tongue down all his abs until she got on her knees, asking the permission to unbuckle his belt and jeans.

"You can do me whatever you want love"

Love

She worked his clothes rather quickly and stopped only in front of his underwear: shit, he was big. But she couldn't praise him about his size yet. She palmed his boner and got excited enough to yank his underwear away and take his dick in her hands.

Elliot was dying of anticipation there.

After stroking him two times (Y/N) licked his shaft and he hissed. He was ready!

Finally she put her mouth on his tip and sucked all the dick down in her mouth.

"Holy shit", he grabbed her hair and she looked at him with big eyes before she started to move her head up and down. She was phenomenal. At some point she took his balls in her hand and started squeezing, "oh my- (Y/N)"

It took her two minutes of full bobbing before she had to take air, but she never stopped touching him, always licking on nipping his tip. When she put her mouth on him again she started to move faster and sucking harder. Elliot was a moaning mess up there, moving his hips in sync with her.

"Baby I'm gonna-" he couldn't talk, she gripped his ass and sucked his cock so much deeper in her mouth he couldn't even think before he shot down her throat. She kept moving her head until he stopped screaming for her and came down his high.

When she left his dick (Y/N) was smiling and Elliot loved this. He helped her get up, just to take her in his arms and put her on the bed.

"You were-"

"Amazing, I know" he chucked, "you really were", he kissed her neck then, lowering himself on her. He felt her wet panties to his cock, who was already recovering feeling her like this. He moved his hands through all her leg, stopping at her inner thigh and sensing her warmth. Elliot looked her in her eyes when he finally put a hand on her pussy. She hissed at the contact.

"You're soaked baby"

"A good cock might do this to me"

She wasn't even embarrassed to show him how much she wanted him; he smirked and slowly let herself free of her panties.

"Look at her, so pretty and ready for me"

His talking of her pussy made her involuntarily lift her hips, which made Elliot smirk even more before he put a finger on her clit.

"Mmmh"

"That's right love"

Fuck he was good with his fingers. She knew he was only giving his dick time to recover, but (Y/N) was enjoying every minute of his fingers entering her hole. She was gripping his forearm when he pushed his second finger in to "prep her for his dick", he said. She was sure he was just enjoying her so fucked up just by his fingers.

"El I need you, now"

His face lit up, "you sure?", she took his cock and aligned it with her entrance, soaking it with her wetness "I'm sure".

He pushed into her very slowly, he was relishing in every inch of her stretching to his length. When he was done he waited a few seconds to move, admiring (Y/N)'s face while she adjusted to his size; suddenly she moved her hips making him hiss and then start to pound into her at a determinate pace.

"God, yes"

She was feeling every inch of his big dick and she was fucking loving it. He moved so well into her while also paying attention to every other part of her : when he wasn't kissing her neck, he was squeezing her tits or whispering dirty things in her ears.

She was loving his dirty talk.

"Come on baby, let me feel you squeeze my dick"

(Y/N) never moaned so loudly in her life. One of her hands was gripping the sheets and the other was firm to Elliot's back to have him always there, pounding into her, extremely close and sweaty. When Elliot started playing with her clit (Y/N)'s eyes rolled so back he was afraid she'd loose them.

"I-I'm so close baby"

Fuck, she called him baby

Elliot became even faster and impatient to let her finish around him; she was a screaming mess while she cum but Elliot loved her clenched pussy around him. Before he could cum he pulled out and finished on her stomach, still patting her clit while he stroked himself.

It was the sexiest thing (Y/N) ever saw; the scene became even more erotic when Elliot went down and licked his cum from her skin and then got up to her face saying "it tastes like you".

She smiled at him and pulled him in her arms, "after you'd done a thing like this, I'll never give you away"

"And I'll never leave, love"

#elliot stabler x reader #elliot stabler #Elliot stabler x you #Elliot stabler fanfic #law and order svu #law and order imagine #ellio stabler imagine #elliot stabler smut #law and order fanfiction

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kamospeach · 10 hours ago

Text

all my exes still love me, call me up, he wanna freak .ᐟ

plot: exbf!choso is a simp and is begging for your forgiveness.

content warning: heavy cursing, drug use, high sex, public sex, car sex, piv sex, mating press, cowgirl, oral m!recieving, fingering, cum eating, choking, praising, softdom choso, dacryphilia, the whole nine really

peachy's yap: 4.9k this is my first time writing on tumblr ! if there's any tips you have pls comment them :3

Saturday at 4:42 pm

"mama, I'm sorry," choso pleaded, pushing your door open. this was the fourth time he showed up at your house this week, and you were honestly getting tired of this. coming to beg for forgiveness but never hearing you out.

"choso, please leave before my mom comes back," you say, not even looking at him. he came over to your house dressed in his fucking sunday's best, and that was the worst. he knows you so well and how much you like all the things he's wearing right now.

hair down, a black tee that never fits right, sweats, the black and white ugg tasmans you got him for his birthday. gold chains around his neck, his usual nose stud changed to a hoop and rings on his fingers. he didn't even try this hard to dress up when you went to kenjaku and geto's birthday party. and was that? is that your pink scrunchie on his wrist? 'he's pushing it,' you thought to yourself.

"come on, don't do this," he says, pushing the door harder. you were now using all your strength to try to close the door.

"you have some nerve coming to my house dressed like a slut." you huff, giving up on pushing the door as he throws his head back in laughter. he knew what he was doing and he thought it was funny you were acting like his attempt was futile. but he noticed the way you looked at him when you opened the door.

"i thought you liked me like this," he asked softly and you sighed knowing it was true, you did like him like that.

"i do." you accept defeat, letting him in the house. "you're only here so we can talk about it. that's it." you pushed open the door and he followed behind you after taking off his shoes.

"why'd you want me gone before your mom got here?" he asked with furrowed brows since your mom knew of your and choso's relationship. you just didn't want her to think you both were still together, and you couldn't bring yourself to break the news to her.

"i didn't want her to see you here and think we were still together." you say walking into your room and sitting down on your bed. he hummed about to sit on your bed and you stopped him by his chest. "nah strangers don't get to sit on my bed."

"y/n," he said your name in a tone that sounded pathetic, honestly.

"choso," you say, and he rolls his eyes, sitting on the chair in the corner of the room. you crossed your legs as the both of you looked at each other in silence. he looked down at your legs that glistened under the sun, then moved his sight to your freshly done toes. light pink french tip, just how he liked, and you said he had nerve. "since it seems a cat caught your tongue, i'll start the conversation. i don't want to get back together if she's all in our business. done."

"she's my friend y/n you don't like her and don't know why. you know if you had a real reason i'd drop her." he reasoned, getting upset all over again, having pretty much the same reaction when you broke up with him two weeks ago.

"i don't like her because she's always running back to me telling me our business. she might've told someone else. even before then she always seemed messy." you stressed to him and he still couldn't wrap his head around your explanation.

"what does that have to do with me, i didn't tell her to be messy. why does her being messy mean we can't be together?" he questioned raising his voice and you put your hand out telling him to stop.

"i already told you if you're going to yell, we aren't going to speak to each other," you warn him.

"i'm not trying to yell but fuck you gotta be reasonable." desperation was clear in his voice, and you sigh, knowing the way choso was. he didn't get mad often, but he does get frustrated and he's stubborn about what he wants.

"all that i'm saying is going to another woman about our relationship and not me is crazy." you felt the tears sting your eyes. "then she has the nerve to tell me 'choso says he really likes you but... oh i shouldn't say that' and run off with her friends." you ranted as you began to full on cry, he looked at you his heart aching at your pain.

"when you told me she said that i got on her right then and there. you can't punish me for her actions," he argues looking you in your eyes.

"i'm not punishing you; I'm doing what's best for me," you explained trying to help him understand where you were coming from.

"is it what's best? you've been crying before right now, i could tell. i saw you at school, and it looks like you aren't getting any sleep. shoko told me you haven't been out since we broke up. You left without giving me a chance to right my wrongs." he says, and you hum, thinking about it.

"i left because you weren't trying to see my point. you said i was jealous and then dodged me for two weeks." you say making it clear you didn't just leave him because of that. "i tried to meet up and you always claimed you were 'busy' with your band."

"take a ride with me later today? let's talk about it more then." he asked out of nowhere, and you laughed at his abruptness. "i'll take the top off the jeep we can drive around like we used to do. like before we got together, you don't have to immediately take me back. just vibe like when you actually used to fucked with me." you laughed at his lame attempt at a joke.

"okay." you nod as he stands up, holding his hand out for you. you place your hand in his as he helps you stand.

"i still love you, mama i hope you know what." he says as he wraps his arms around your shoulders and your arms wrap around his torso. "no other girl could change that," he assured you, you nodded sniffling from crying earlier.

"i still love you too, cho," you say, looking up at the man who's been by your side for 4 years. choso was a sweetheart, quiet, and would never intentionally hurt you. it just hurts to know he went to someone else for problems instead of you since you've been together for so long.

"you don't have to say it if you don't mean it." he joked and you rolled your eyes at him.

"m'serious, cho." you stomp your foot, and he nods, still laughing at you a little.

"i know," he kissed your forehead, the only thing you'd allow. "i'll come to get you at six, okay?

"i'll be ready." you nod, and he smiles.

"it's warmer than usual today, you can wear them shorts i like," he smirked referring to some shorts you bought a couple of years ago that fit fine until choso started stuffing you like a pig. now you fill them out better and part of your ass peeks out the bottom. you never wore them outside the house only when you took drives with choso or you both stayed in the house for the day.

"and risk you thinking you're back in? no," you say shooing him out of your room until the two of you run into your mom. just your luck. she squealed running to hug choso. this was normal when she hadn't seen him for a while. she always claimed choso was her son and even if you didn't bring him around she was asking for him.

you looked between your mom and choso in disbelief. your mom squeezed him so tight rocking him side to side and he smirked at you. this is exactly what you didn't want to happen she would be talking about this meeting for the next month and a half.

"hey mom." he greeted her with a shit-eating grin that had you five and a half seconds away from hitting him square in the back of his head. he knew calling her mom was going to make her love him more than she already did.

"aww hello my baby!" she cooed and you blinked slowly looking between the two of them as they engaged in a conversation that lasted way too long. she asked about his band, his classes, his brothers, and then your relationship. to which he responded with 'we're good y'know we would never leave each other' as he side eyes you with the meanest glare he's probably ever put out.

"okay, cho don't you have to go take the roof off the jeep? that'll take some time won't it?" you frown as you bat your lashes practically begging him to leave. he glances down at you as he holds a cup of tea your mom gave him.

"i can't finish my tea?" he frowned and your jaw dropped at the audacity of this man.

"no? get out!" you take the cup from his hands and push him towards the door. "i can't believe you." you grunted as he slowly put on his shoes. "you know i didn't want you to see her and you spent 15 minutes talking to her." you huff as he opened the driver's side hopping into the truck.

"then you'll just have to hold out for a while until you tell her." he smiled down at you. "i can't get a kiss?"

"leave," you said as he laughed at your angry expression. he started the car and drove off as you walked back into the house. you skillfully avoided your mom not trying to hear her gush over how sweet choso was. as you entered your room you decided to take a shower before he returned.

after your shower, it was going on 5:45 meaning choso would be there soon. the sun was setting and you looked out your open window at the pink and purple sunset. you keep your eyes peeled for choso's truck while listening out for your mom. you did not want her to know he was doubling back, if she found out she'd probably end up serving him dinner.

another 10 minutes passed and choso drove up to your house top off like he promised. he had music playing and it sounded like it was a song from his band's more recent album. although you always listened to RnB you knew every song that his band made. you never thought you'd been into hard rock or metal until choso sent you his playlist.

when he turned in the driveway you quickly grabbed your phone and small purse. you sped down the stairs almost tripping on the last one and letting out a small 'fuck'. your mom watched you run out of the house not even bothering to ask where you were going knowing it was either with shoko or choso.

as you suspected it was his band's music and he turned it down when you walked out the door. being the gentleman he is got out of the truck to open up the passenger door for you. you looked him up and down seeing he changed specifically his hair that was now back in two buns. not interested in analyzing his fit you hopped into the jeep and didn't even bother to thank him. he just laughed at your sass getting back in the driver seat.

"not talkin' now?" he asked and you huffed loudly crossing your legs and arms. your resolve was wearing thin and you knew going on a drive wasn't going to help. his scattered tattoos on his arm as one hand steered, your nameplate around his neck, and his clenched jaw. that was enough for you to forgive him right there and then.

"cho." you whispered lowly after you both sat in silence for 15 minutes and he gave you a quick glance. "i hated the break but i think it was good for you," you admitted as choso hummed putting the car in park. he ended your drive at the beach the breeze was a little colder but it still felt good.

"what're you tryin' to say?" he asked leaning the seat back grabbing the half-smoked blunt out of his ashtray. your face dropped not even noticing the blunt when you got in. it made you think to yourself 'Let me check if my chair in the right position'. and you did just that looking around your seat and making sure everything was right. humming in satisfaction when you saw that it was.

"i'm just saying that the break was needed. you realized you needed to talk to me about our problems. because she can't help you fix us if there is no us." you explain and he nods, you could admit that the reason for your short break was selfish. still, you didn't like what he did and you weren't willing to let it slide. if he had first apologized or even listened to you instead of trying to guilt trip you it wouldn't have got this far.

"i can admit that, yeah, and it won't happen again. i'll do whatever it takes to make you happy and you know that," he says turning his head a little and handing the blunt to you. you grabbed it from him bringing the blunt to your lips, taking a hit letting the smoke fill your lungs. choso put his hand on the top knee of your crossed legs.

"if you promise to talk to me, i can promise i'll never leave." you bargain passing the blunt back to him. he looked at the blunt seeing your cherry lip gloss all around it. he sent you a pointed glare and you shrugged already knowing what he was thinking.

"that'll work, so can i get a kiss now?" he asked and you scoffed, that was all this man thought about. Little did you know choso had been thinking about kissing you since you got in. your perfume intoxicating his brain along with the effects of the weed make him extremely horny. he needed his kiss now!

"that's all I'm good for?" you asked playfully and he laughed shaking his head.

"no but it's a plus." he mumbles as you lean over the middle console pecking his lips quickly. as you were moving back he gripped your waist locking you in the position. "what the fuck was that?" he asked and you laughed at his reaction.

giving in you press your lips against his this time not a peck. your tongues danced with each other and you melted into the kiss. his lips were soft and you both kissed almost as if you were starved. although you were broken up for two weeks you hadn't seen each other in a month. this was what you both needed to be back in each other's embrace.

your hand reached for his face just needing to feel him. your hands grazed his jaw down his neck and to his chest. while his freehand stayed content on your left ass cheek.

your hands traveled down moving lower and lower feeling on his abs. you were hesitant but you let your urges go against your better judgment. your reached down to palm his hard-on and his hips bucked up as he moaned in your mouth.

"either you do something about it or sit back in your seat." he leaned out of the kiss ashing the blunt. without being told another word you pulled the waistband of his shorts and boxers up grabbing his dick. you took it out of his shorts and looked at it as if you hadn't seen it many times before. this time the tip was a deep angry red like it was begging for a release.

you gave his tip a little kitty lick tasting his precum and he hissed placing his hand on your ass. you slapped him on your tongue before taking him into your mouth. not taking him all the way down your throat and just focusing on his tip. choso began to get impatient, the anticipation making him exasperated. he was trying to be nice and take things your speed but he was seconds from combusting.

getting fed up he grabs your hair pushing you all the way down until his cock head hit the back of your throat. you gagged on him as spit bubbled around him and he kept you down with your nose pressed against him.

he gave your throat small thrusts until you tapped his thigh letting him know you needed to come up for air. he pulled you up looking you in your face liking the view of drool dripping down your chin.

"y'know better," he said and you looked him in his eyes seeing the way his pupils dilated. this wasn't soft choso who didn't mind letting you be in control he was feral. what he didn't want you to know was that he held himself back for that month. he hadn't touched himself so he was little, 'backed up' if you will.

not wanting to anger him further you quickly took him in your mouth. tongue out and throat relaxed you began to please him how you know he wanted you to. not once stopping your constant movements as he moaned. head thrown back as his hand stayed in your hair only guiding your movements lightly.

"i missed that mouth of yours." he groans as you take him out your mouth to spit back on it. you used your hands to stroke him while you looked up at him. "you're doing great." he praised you knowing exactly what you wanted to hear. just like he expected with that statement you went back to work. bobbing your head up and down gagging on him here and there. his moans and groans were exciting you and it started to become more enjoyable for you.

you felt choso's leg spasm you knew him well enough to know that meant he was close. usually, you'd pull off and whine to him saying 'i want you to cum inside me'. but today you wanted to have the satisfaction of making him cum off head.

you pulled off him licking up the dribble of spit along the vein of his dick. going to back and deepthroating him as he twitches in the back of his throat.

"fuck 'm cumming." he grunted loudly as he came down your throat. by this time you were absolutely soaked your legs were squeezed together. his sounds, the taste of him on your tongue, and the friction of your thighs rubbing together enough to make you finish. you swallowed but it wasn't enough for you, you continued to suck him off. "fuck... mama wait s...shit" he whimpered trying to get you off of him. once you were finally content you got off looking up at him.

his eyes were closed and there were bite marks in his lips. his chest heaved up and down rapidly and his hand was on his head. you giggled to yourself reaching to take the tight buns out of his hair. you rake your fingers through his hair and he smashes his lips onto yours. the kiss was rushed and he pushed his tongue into your mouth tasting himself on your tongue. you massaged his scalp and he shuddered as he pulled away from the kiss.

"you'll be the death of me, swear to God." he huffed nodding towards the back seat. "get in the back," he instructed and you nodded climbing over the middle console to get in the back. he smacked your ass before you made it to the back.

he put himself back into his shorts and got out of the driver's side. he looked around seeing no other cars or people around. which wasn't surprising since you both lived in a small town with a low population. he joined you in the back and you wasted no time climbing onto his lap.

"i didn't take you for a public sex guy," you said as he scoffed looking down at you.

"says the girl who begged me to take her in the dressing room two months ago and your best friend's birth-" he rambled and you covered his mouth with both hands not wanting him to continue.

"enough." you roll your eyes as he grabs your wrists pulling your hands from his mouth. he licked his lips as he leaned forward making you fall on your back against the seat. the leather was cold and your back arched off the seat. he grabbed the waistband of your shorts sliding them off along with your panties.

"this wet just from suckin' me off?" he mumbled to himself as he looked at your dripping folds like a starved man. he licked his lips again as he hovered above you reaching down to rub your clit. you let out a soft moan and he kissed down your neck which now doubled your pleasure. he pressed his nose against the curve of your nick taking a deep breath.

"did you just sniff me?" you ask in shock and he doesn't respond instead he pushed his fingers in your wet cunt. "cho..." you gasped at the surprise of his fingers. his fingers were thicker and longer than yours hitting spots you haven't been able to reach this last month.

"yeah?" he asked knowing you would barely be able to form a sentence while his fingers pump in and out of you. you began to talk but he added a third finger as your breath got caught in your throat. the squelching was loud and the feeling was overwhelming as you grabbed at his wrist.

"just fuck me," you said eyes looking around his face practically begging him to get to it.

"please?" he was still vigorously fucking his fingers into you not too much caring about your request.

"p...please," you repeated and he smiled pulling his fingers out of you. he pulled his shorts and boxers down to his knees and pushed your legs to your chest. he put his three fingers at your lips and you quickly wrapped your lips around his finger tasting yourself.

he smiled at you in adoration loving the way you were splayed out in front of him. he grabbed his dick sliding up and down folds and lightly hitting his tip against your clit.

"ready?" he asked and you nodded and he gave you that same pointed glare. "use your words y/n."

"yes im ready," you reply and he nods nudging your entrance before slipping in halfway. you moaned out as he stretched you out the pain fading away just as quickly as it came.

to get you adjusted he began to stroke with just half of himself before abruptly pushing himself all the way in. you threw your head back grabbing the headrest with your left hand. your right hand grabbing choso's wrist that was holding your legs to your chest.

choso's eyes were locked on yours as he wasted no time sending steady thrusts. your moans were getting louder by the minute and his grunts became more animalistic. he lowered down so that your foreheads were touching.

his eyes glanced between you and your lips not sure where to focus. noticing his indecisiveness you leaned up to press your lips on his. the kiss was nasty and sloppy while his thrusts were pointed and relentless. you moaned into each other's mouth as he hit the spot that made your legs shake.

"you feel so good wrapped around me. s...so warm." he whimpered against your lips and your jaw was slack in pure bliss over his sensual strokes. "hold your legs." he tells you and you nod grabbing behind your knees keeping your legs to your chest.

he places one foot on the floor of the car. he wrapped both of his hands around your neck and your eyes widened in shock. with newfound stability, he began to send longer and faster strokes. the pleasure became overwhelming as tears began to spill from your eyes.

choso loved it. the way your eyes rolled back and the tears stained your cheeks. you crying from the immense pleasure he gave you boosted his ego. he knew it was pleasure or else you'd be tapping out or yelling out the safe word.

the roughness of his thrusts and the noises that left his mouth pushed you toward the edge. your walls tightening around him restricting his movement and milking him for everything he had. you couldn't think straight as your climax approached.

"cho...ch..." you mumbled not looking away from his eyes and he nodded moving one of his hands from your neck to your clit.

"i feel you... 'm right behind you." he moaned out speeding up the rubbing on your clit. all it took was two more strokes before your body shook from the overstimulation. you saw stars as your juice drenched his shorts and leather seats. "yeah, that's it... fuck." he said as he pulled out and fucked his fist a couple times before he came on your pussy. his cum landed on your swollen clit and drenched lips.

"are you...?" you gasped watching his dick get hard again and you looked back up at him. that was his second nut and you were starting to question who this man had become in a month. he'd usually be sensitive after one orgasm but good enough to go for a second round. which never bothered you since you usually could go for just two orgasms before you were ready to tap out.

"it's been a month." he huffed chest moving fast as he scratched his head. "just help me get another one i should be done after this for real." you nod looking him up and down, he looks bigger too and his jaw is more defined.

"how many times were you going to the gym?" you asked and he rolled his eyes.

"you can ask me that later just ride me," he said clearly not in the mood for your questioning. you rolled your eyes but obliged getting as he sat in the middle seat. you straddled his lap and choso pulled up your crop top letting freeing your boobs from your bra. you grabbed his dick lining him up with your entrance before you lower yourself down onto him.

"wait cho you're too deep." you whimpered, it felt like he was almost in your chest and you couldn't move.

"take your time. you're doing so good for me." he praised you rubbing circles on your hip as you took deep breaths. once you felt more comfortable you planted your feet next to him. you began to ride him bouncing with a steady rhythm.

"mmm..." you hum as choso's mouth latched onto your nipple sucking a biting as you continued bouncing on him. he pulled off your nipple looking at your fucked out face.

"hah... you look so sexy like this love," he said fucking up into you meeting you with half-assed thrust. he was getting sloppy and you knew he was close. his hand slapped your ass and it only encouraged you to ride him faster. his head lolled back enjoying the feeling of you gripping his cock.

"close so so close." you babbled and he gave you a lazy smile. he gripped both of your ass cheeks lifting you and fucking into you.

"tell me you love me while you cum on this dick," he grunted into your ear.

"shit... i love you baby, love you so fuckin much." you moaned as you came this time not only did you drench his shirt and face you even got it in his hair.

"i love you too mama" he hummed pulling out. "turn around wanna cum on yer ass," he grunts as you turned around and he grunts stroke himself to his finish as his cum spilled all over your ass. you both sat in silence as you both struggled to catch your breath. choso reached into the pocket of the backseat and wiped you off.

"don't ever... tell that bitch nothing else," you said still out of breath watching your now not ex-boyfriend clean you off.

"why are you even thinkin' about her right now." he laughed helping you put back on your shorts. which he now realized were the shorts he advised you to wear earlier

"just thinking we can't ever break up again, i'm not letting you fuck nobody else like that," you said dead serious as he laughed at your comment. he helped you to the front seat and started up the car driving you to his house instead of taking you back home.

2 weeks later

"did you hear the band's new song?" shoko asked and you shook your head not even knowing they had put out a new song.

"no? choso didn't tell me there was a new song," you admitted and she shrugged playing the song for you. from the speaker you heard your boyfriend's sexy silky voice singing falling in love with the song as always. until. you heard something that just didn't sit right with you. "what did he just say?"

"huh? i don't know." shoko frowned as she re-winded the song. you couldn't believe your ears. you both looked at each other in shock.

choso was singing about fucking you in the back seat.

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