#there is almost nothing I wouldn’t let this man do to me
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halfwayhearted · 3 days ago
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hopeless romantic pedri trying his best to approach y/n but is afraid thinking she’s into someone else
A Tu Vera — Pedri González.
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Pairing: Pedri González x Fem!Reader
Summary: He’s unsure about your feelings and struggles to interpret your actions, but your birthday gesture gives him the chance to hope that he’s wrong. That you do, in fact, like him.
Word Count: 1.10K+
Disclaimer/s — Nothing, it’s really just comfort, slight fluff?
A/N: So basically… I used the term approach as in like, he felt nervous to approach reader about the… situation? FUCK IDK I struggled horribly yet couldn’t stop writing but whatever! ALSO. HIS BIRTHDAY HELLO. 22, bless the hell up! 🎉🐾🤍
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The day you’ve been waiting for has finally come.
It was Pedri’s twenty-second birthday today. You had told him beforehand that you would stop by later on because he needed to stay and practice for his upcoming game tomorrow, and you didn’t want to interrupt his time spent with his family.
Some time had passed when your phone buzzed with a message from him saying that he was, well, alone, so you could be on your way to him.
And you were! Your gift for him sat delicately on your passenger seat. Did you have to stop yourself from spending a lot on him? Yes! But this was Pedri; why wouldn’t you go all out for him?
As you pull up, your eyebrows furrow in confusion when you see him standing on the porch, his gaze locking onto your car. You quickly get out and call out to him, “Hello, why the hell are you outside?”
Now he’s looking at you as if you’ve just asked the most stupidest question in the world. “You were on your way. Of course I’d be waiting outside.” He retorted, slowly making his way toward you.
“Right,” you smile and wrap your arms around him once you’re within reach. “Happy birthday!”
The man returns your hug almost immediately. He hums against you in appreciation, nestling his nose into the crook of your neck. The action easily causes your cheeks to flush ever-so-slightly.
“I’ve got your gift in my car. Want to open now?”
“Yeah,” he breathed, pulling away to his dismay.
Though his answer elicits a smile to spread across your lips… oh. He suddenly doesn’t feel upset about having to break the hug so early anymore.
Grabbing his arm, you gently tug him with you as you quickly reach the car door. “Okay, first things first: unfortunately, I can’t stay long. Secondly, feel free to let me know if you don’t like whatever’s in here; I kept the receipt just in case!”
“Doubtful, but I got it,” he shrugged with a grin.
Sliding your hand under the bag, you lean forward to get a better grip on it. Then, you turn to face him, holding it out for him to take, and he does.
With the gift now in his arms, you walk side by side to the chairs he has already set up outside, due to his family coming over earlier. Once the two of you are seated, you turn towards him and motion for him to open it, but he just keeps his gaze fixed on your face. You feel sick. “Go on.”
Adjusting the bag on his lap, Pedri pries it open, a breathy laugh escaping his lips when he sees how overly decorated it is. He takes out the card first, about to open it when you speak, “You can just read that later or something. Keep going, c’mon!”
He smiles, removing the blue and red wrapping paper to reveal the blue Nike hoodie inside. “You like hoodies, and you like the color blue, so…!”
It was the simplest thing, yet it had him fighting the urge to overthink the entire situation. You were observant, he knew that. He needed to stop.
“Thank you,” he says with a toothy-grin. “Really.”
“Of course. There’s one last thing at the bottom.”
The brunette lets out another laugh and removes more wrapping paper. His eyes widen slightly when he catches sight of the next gift, making you bite your bottom lip in nervous anticipation.
His gaze slowly trails up to lock with yours, and you tilt your head. “Do you like it? I noticed you were running low the other day, plus I know—”
Pedri interjects, “I do, and I was. It’s—this is a lot.”
“Don’t worry about that,” you assure. “Now you won’t have to worry about getting another one!”
The box suddenly feels heavy in his hands, the strip of the brand ‘Prada’ staring right at him. He nods slowly, “No, I won’t. Thank you. Wow.”
“Wow, huh? So, I take it you liked everything?”
Obviously, was he kidding? No, were you kidding?“Really? What gave you that idea? Yes, I loved it.”
With a chuckle, you nudge his foot with yours, eyes rolling in feigned annoyance, “Hey, I can easily take it back. Tell me how your day was?”
“It was good. I had a good practice, had a small dinner with my family, and now I’m with you.”
I’m with you? What? He could’ve cursed under his breath if you weren’t right here. He knew he shouldn’t have said that. If he thought it sounded weird, you probably thought it was even worse.
He’s quick to take it back, “I didn’t—I’m sorry.”
“What? It’s okay,” you tell him with a quirk of your brow. “Sorry, what are you even apologizing for?”
He looks confused. “You’re with him, aren’t you?”
“Him?” You repeated. “I’m not seeing anybody.”
Not seeing anybody? “What about the guy with the blonde hair? The one you hung out with a lot.”
That’s when the person he’s talking about flickers through your mind, and now you’re smiling from ear-to-ear, “Oh. I’m not with him. I don’t like him.”
“Then who?” He blurts out, instantly regretting his words. He didn’t even actually know if you liked anyone to begin with. What was he doing?
You blow out a breath and stand up from your seat, with him following suit. “You’re serious?”
Stick with it. “I’m serious. You don’t have to—”
You refrain from letting your grin widen, nudging your head toward your car. He understands that you’re silently asking for him to walk you to it.
“Well! If it’s need-to-know,” you trail off, rounding your car and spinning on your heel to look at him once you reach the door. Your gaze flickers down to his lips for just a second, but that second is all he really needs for his breath to hitch in his throat.
To his semi-surprise, you reached up and placed a kiss on his cheek, sparing him one last knowing glance while you opened the door and got inside.
“Let me know if that answers your question. And, Pedri?” You pause; he hums. “Happy birthday.”
He stands there in silence. He had been so wrong. You weren’t with the person he thought you were with, and he should have realized that when you showed up at his house this late, knowing full well you have to wake up early for your job tomorrow.
Pedri had been utterly mistaken, and he couldn’t have been happier to be as wrong as he was.
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DT(s) — @planetpedri + @gadriezmannsgirl + @spidybaby + @iovepoem + @joaoflms ! ౨ৎ
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kaybreezy3000 · 2 days ago
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The Drive-In A Five Hargreeves x Female reader insert, request
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(7995 words, rated M for adult themes and explicit sexual content)
After the way it ended with season four, you couldn’t help feeling like Five had done you wrong. 
But…
On a night filled with men masquerading as mythical monsters, your favorite bad boy did you right, mending both your hearts.
Side note: I received the base idea for this one from an anon request. It asked for Five at a horror movie drive-In night, with a female reader insert. That idea for them was inspired by anon being tired while watching old monster movies. The rest of this storyline is perhaps not what they had in mind, being it addresses things that some would rather forget, but overall, I think this story has a nice message that many of us Five lovers can relate to and enjoy.
Warnings and Tags: Smut, Soft Five and Dom Five, NOT a Lila and Five fic
~~~~~~The Drive-In
Convincing Five to go for a ride in his 1965 Nassau Blue Stingray wasn’t as hard as Klaus thought it would be. Then again, going for car rides as a form of entertainment was a very old person thing to do, and his brother was that guy, even if he didn’t look the part of the old fart who couldn’t take a shit without eating his daily dose of prunes.
Driving along, Klaus jabbered about anything and everything that came to mind, but Five said almost nothing in return, his eyes fixed on the road ahead, his lips set in a thin line. 
The sun was about to set. It was a beautiful fall evening. The warmth of summer had refused to let go. With the convertible top down, the wind ruffled his dark hair. It felt good, but Five still didn’t feel right.
All around him, life moved on, everyone obliviously living their best lives ever, but here he was, feeling out of place in all of that, just like before.
Trying not to think about his ledger full regrets, or all the idiotic things coming out of Klaus’s mouth, Five instead was doing his best to focus on the soulful sound of the ‘Queen of Jazz,’ Ella Fitzgerald as it mixed with the rumble of his Corvette’s powerful engine. 
Not sharing his brother’s tastes in music, Klaus reached for the radio, but like the last four times he’d done it, he got his hand slapped away.
“Leave it, or I’m going to leave you out here in the middle of nowhere and you can walk home,” Five lowly warned.
Rubbing his hand, pretending to be hurt, Klaus laughed. “You wouldn’t do that because you love me too much. And we aren’t that far away from civilization. I’d be fine. See-” He pointed to the lights shining through the trees up ahead.
“What’s going on up therrr-”
“Quick! Turn!” Klaus excitedly shouted, grabbing the steering wheel, causing the car to swerve off the road. 
Gravel flying, and tires spinning to an abrupt stop, Five slammed on the brake just before rear ending the car ahead of them. There was a line of cars, all of them waiting to get into what he now saw was the entrance to an outdoor, drive-in theater.
Angrily twisting his body around in his seat, so he was facing Klaus head-on, Five went off. “I said I would take you for a ride, not go to a movie with you!”
Klaus stuck out his bottom lip. “Awww, come on. It’s just like that time you got all jacked-up about that Big Ball of Twine. It’s you and me against the world!” “Yeah. Sure. You and me against the world.” Five threw himself back in his seat as he shifted into first, letting off the clutch to inch the car forward. “I can’t even back out of here!” he fumed while flipping off the minivan that just pulled in behind him, blocking his escape route.
“Who cares. This will be fun. And check it out! It’s an old-school monster movie double feature, and a scary costume event! Look at all these cool people!” Like he’d won the lottery, Klaus pumped his hand to the sky despite Five’s sour expression. “You need more of this kind of thing in your life, man. Spontaneous adventures are always the best.”
“Getting stuck with a bunch of juvenile dipshits that are getting drunk is exactly what I need. You’re right,” Five dryly mumbled.
Slowly rolling past the marquee, the warm lights glinted off Five’s shiny chrome side mirror. The reflection of the unhappy young man staring back at him frowned even more. All Five could think about, other than getting out of there, was how not fun all his spontaneous adventures had been. 
As a headstrong, thirteen year old with something to prove, he’d run out the Umbrella Academy dinner room, abandoning his family, and everyone knew where that got him. And then, with the last big adventure that Lila convinced him to go on, he’d royally screwed himself, and her, and that was not at all something he counted as a check mark in his plus column of ‘fun times.’ 
That one was… 
There were no words for that, other than to say, he’d really fallen off the deep end by thinking that was a viable option to end his loneliness.
The usual sickness pooling in his gut as he pushed those memories down as far as he could, Five’s shoulder rapidly jerked, the evidence of his tick impossible to hide. 
“I hate you for this,” he grumbled at Klaus, but he didn’t really mean it. He really hated himself.
Thankfully that, like usual, Klaus didn’t seem to notice how miserable he was, Five followed his line of sight, taking in a very attractive female passenger that was getting out of the car ahead of him.
You were dressed in a 1950’s style, polka dot mini dress, the top a tight corset that accentuated your breasts in a way that wasn’t at all hard on the eyes. Your hair was done up in old-fashioned victory style curls, making you the quintessential damsel in distress in all the old black and white horror movies. All you needed to do to complete the look was put your hands to your face and scream in terror as the hungry zombies surrounded you.
Looking confused and a lot like you might be about to freak out like that, Five watched you come around to the trunk, escorted by a guy who was dressed in what he could only figure had to be a Swamp Thing costume.
Swamp guy popped the trunk open.
Your eyes met Five’s for a fraction of a second. Next to him, Klaus was waving at you with a big goofy grin, and the next thing you knew, you were being flipped up, ass over tea kettle, your heels dangling out of the back-end of the car as your green friend hopped inside with you, shutting the hatch.
What was going on? And why did that hot guy who was glaring at you from the driver seat of that Corvette look exactly like the fictional character Five Hargreeves from the Umbrella Academy!!! And was that Klaus?
These were your thoughts, those and- 
“Get your foot out of my face,” you yelled at your friend as the car lurched forward, to which he only laughed even more because he was clearly high and smelled like it too.
“What the hell is going on?” you shouted, assuming you had to be high out of your mind too, even though you didn’t remember smoking anything.
“Shush-sshhhhh! You’re gonna get us busted,” your buddy sputtered, still giggling as your other friends talked to the cashier, buying their tickets. As the car moved forward, your trunk mate said, “It wouldn’t be a night going to the drive-in unless someone sneaks in, duh...”
“What are you twelve?” you shot back, to which you got nothing but more wafts of sweaty weed scented swamp monster costume and more foot in your face.
How in the hell did you get here, in a trunk of all places?
The last thing you remembered, you were sitting on your couch, watching TV, lounging in your grungy old pajamas that weren’t fit for going to Walmart. You definitely weren’t a kid anymore, and Five and Klaus weren’t real people, but like the rest of this, here you were, and you were sure it was them.
After bumping along in the pitch dark, the car came to a stop, the hood popping open. Crawling out, you took a deep breath, looking all around you. The lot was filled up with loads of vehicles, music playing loudly from many of them. The party had clearly begun, only you hadn’t realized you were going to it until just now.
Hazy rays from the last light of day streamed through the open field. You were near the back of the action, farthest from the big white screen looming over the field.
“Brains…yummy!”
Whirling around, a guy with a gruesome bite mark in his head came running past, chasing a trampy looking vampire with huge boobs spilling out of her Eliva costume.
Coming to a stop, he backpedaled, heading your way. The zombie’s whiteout contacts creepily moved, taking you in from head to toe. His lips pulled to the side as he nodded his approval. “Now that is the kind of sugar I could really sink my teeth into.” 
“I don’t think so buddy,” you said, stepping out of his reach as you continued searching for that blue sports car and its mysterious occupants.
You didn’t have to look far, because with nowhere else to park, the Five look-alike you’d spotted at the gate had already driven past, parking in the last row, right behind you.
Fascinated, you watched the two fictional superheroes having what looked like a very characteristic, Hargreeves style argument. You weren’t sure who was winning, but slamming the door, the young man in a familiar three-piece suit got out, stormed off, hands jammed in his pockets, looking just like the grumpy old man child from your favorite show. 
His dark hair hung in his eyes, his shoulders hunched in their usual way, his posture appeared to be one of deep thought and frustration as he approached the concessions.
This was all so weird.
Already horsing around, your friends paid no attention when you wandered into the crowd filled with the walking dead and other monsters that were busy acting all sorts of stupid.
Approaching your favorite fictional teleporter as he stood in line, you said nothing. You were sure this was some kind of joke, because he looked like a perfect match to the season four version of Five Hargreeves, scruffy emo hairdo and all, yet no one else around you seemed to realize they are standing next to someone significant. 
He rocked back on the heels of his shiny dress shoes, his eyes scanning the little black letters on the menu board.
“Can I help you,” he asked, apparently aware you were drooling over him even though he hadn’t even turned your way.
Your face instantly flushed, and then it got even hotter when he did face you, raising his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. 
“Ah….”
“Or maybe I should arrest you and your Swamp Thing sidekick back there?” he tartly offered. 
“What! Why? For what?” you stammered, getting more flustered the longer he tried to incinerate you with his pale green eyes.
“You didn’t pay to get in,” he smugly informed you, like you didn’t already know that. 
Taking it one further, he flipped open his suit coat, flashing you his hoity-toity CIA badge.
Wow, he was being an arrogant ass wipe, just like you would have expected him to be. 
Okay…. 
Two can play this game. You did have a bone to pick with him.
“Not paying to get into the drive-in movies is all a part of being young and dumb,” you countered, “but I suppose old shitheads parading around as tight assed, kid sized CIA agents, will never know what it means to let loose like that, and you don’t really want to anyway, otherwise you would have started really living your life before all hell broke loose with that Bennifer blob thing.”
Five’s jaw fish gaped, but you weren’t done with him. 
“Maybe if you’d had done something fun before all that, then you wouldn’t have given up on life and then got stuck with your sister-in-law, playing lovey-dovey possessive strawberry grower with her.” Holding your ground, you put your hands on your hips while shaking your head at him. “You’d been through way worse and that shit show and not given up, and that was not a win for anyone.”
Now your face wasn’t the only one getting red. “How did you-” You rolled your eyes because he was too cute. 
Suddenly, not being cute, before you could order your Milk Duds and buttered popcorn, Five latched onto your arm, spinning you around.
“Hey! Let go!” you snapped as he dragged you out of the musty cinder block concession building.
Insects buzzing as they swarmed the neon Sugar Shack sign above your heads, Five shoved you up against the side of the building, pinning you with his glare and his hands fingers rudely digging into your upper arms.
“How did you know about that?” he snarled. “Nobody knows about that! I reversed it and I nearly died doing it!”
“Well…” You glanced around. “I guess you did, and obviously found a way to save the world, but that Frankenstein guy that’s coming this way looks like he’s going to use his inhuman strength to break your face if you don’t back off, so if you want to keep living, I suggest you let go like I said.”
It dawned on him that he was drawing unwanted attention, so Five stepped back, raking his hand through his hair, making himself look even more bat shit crazy.
He was losing it, but fuck him, so were you.
You opened our mouth to answer the question of why you knew all this about him, but Five didn’t let you get it out.
“Are you with The Commission?” he growled. 
His eyes darted around, stopping on a group of werewolves walking by. He looked terrified, like they were going to suddenly pull a gun on him, or even worse, pull a gigantic black briefcase out from behind their backs, then chuck him into a portal destined for a place where he’d be forced into another round of murderous servitude. 
Like how you felt every time while watching Five struggling on the show, no matter how demented he was acting, all you wanted to do was lift him right out of there and save him from all of it.
“No. I am not with The Commission,” you replied, calmly as possible. “I am just a normal girl who last I knew was living in the normal real world. Now, I am not so sure what is going on.” 
You held up your hands in a placating gesture, like you were trying to calm a ferocious man beast, which wasn’t too far off, except Five looked more like a miniature wolf of Wall Street who was about to bite your head off.
“See… No guns or anything else nefarious here,” you joked.
Five looked dumbstruck, so twirling around, you pulled at the billowing folds of your bouncy skirt, showing him that you didn’t even have any pockets in your old-timey, Dolores-ish, girly-girl get-up. 
He didn’t look any less worried, and all of a sudden, for some reason, the thought of flashing him seemed like a brilliant idea.
You weren’t hiding anything under your skirt that was out to get him so…
Huh…. 
Maybe you should just slap him silly to set him straight? That sounded pretty great too.
Again, you had to wonder if you’d been drugged because this was all on par with a very Wizard of Oz kind of acid trip, your lack of undergarments included.
The warm air wafting up your skirt providing no clarity as it tickled your lady parts, holding up your arm, you pinched yourself.
“That hurt,” you noted, and that observation only made Five look even more like he was going to go nuts on you.
You scrunched your lips to the side, tapping your chin. 
If Five reversed all the stuff from season 4, and then saved the world, and he clearly didn’t die… 
“Hmmm,” you hummed. 
There was so much potential here, and as crazy as it was, with each minute that passed, the idea of running with this fantasy you were having sounded better and better.
You smiled and said, “I know all that stuff about you because I know all about you, Five, I’m the daddy here Hargreeves. I know about your family, your powers, and Dolores…” 
Your grin grew as you thought about Five feeling up the air during his romantic reunion with his mannequin turned real in season 3. 
“Is this handsome young man bothering you, miss?” Klaus questioned, his voice sing-songy as he came around the corner with several of your friends. Stopping next to his brother, he raised a brow at you. “If Five is being a pest, I am happy to make him go sit in the car. He needs a timeout from time to time or the little guy gets all nippy. It’s sort of his thing, especially when he hasn’t had his nap.”
“Fuck off, Klaus,” Five hissed, still standing between you and them, not letting you get away.
“No really,” Klaus laughed, his eyes moving from his brother to you. “It’s so good to see you again. It’s been too long, and look, you finally get to meet my favorite little brother. I told you he’d be all over you the second he laid eyes on you.” 
Klaus formally introduced you, but Five did not accept your extended hand.
“You know each other?” he questioned, looking at Klaus, then to you with narrowed eyes.
“Oh, yeah. We go way back.” Klaus shrugged like this was common knowledge, which it wasn’t, not to you anyway.
Pulling you by your arm, his face coming so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath flooding down your neck, Five quietly said, “He told you about me.”
It wasn’t really a question, and with the bizarre situation unfolding, you felt it best to let him think that.
“You guys want anything?” Klaus questioned, already heading around the building to join the line that was now about a mile long.
“I- I- Sure,” you answered, with Five already stomping off into the dark, leaving you not sure which one looked scarier or sadder out there lurking, him, or the rubbery looking guy dressed like the creature from the Black Lagoon. 
After about an hour into the first creature feature, you were sure of two things. 
One. Klaus was without a doubt the Klaus you had always loved on The Umbrella Academy. His pleather covered legs were kicked out in front of him as he sat next to you, the blanket under your butts keeping you dry from the dewy grass. He was hanging out, having a blast.
Two. Five was slumped in the driver seat of his car, with the driver’s side window rolled up and the leather rag top over his head, sitting there like he was trying to shut out the world. 
He was pretending to be transfixed by the plot unfolding high up on the flickering screen, but he was failing. He still looked like he was going to postal on everyone, and you were sure that being trapped at a drive-in with a bunch of people dressed like rotting corpses wasn’t helping.
Glancing back, each time you caught him looking at you, he’d averted his eyes, looking as vexed by Nosferatu’s ugly mug as he was by your face.
Five didn’t want people to know what had really happened, and you couldn’t blame him for that. You knew his secret and you’d called him out on it, so obviously that meant you were someone he wanted to make disappear.
You really, really didn’t want to end up running through the woods with an temporal assassin coming after you with a fire ax, but every time you tried to wave him over, he wasn’t having it.
You had to fix this, even if you were hallucinating this whole thing. You may have been mad at Five, and the entire season four plot line, but it wasn’t his fault that the writer’s and Steve Blackman were short sighted idiots.
You hopped up, heading his way, your heels not functioning on the soft ground, sunk in as you walked, making you look like a clumsy moron which was not the look you were going for.
The closer you got, the dumber you felt, and the more tense Five looked. 
Dropping your elbows on the threshold of the open passenger side window, to hide your embarrassment, you smiled your best flirty smile. “So… Other than yourself and other people, can you blink things from one location to another, like this car?” you questioned. “I think I heard about this super cool stapler thing you did once, but I didn’t really understand how you did that. Will you show me?” 
Five merely looked at you, stone faced, jaw hard, not taking the bait.
“I am going with you not being able to blink things that big,” you answered for him. “Otherwise, you would have been long gone by now.”
He still refused to speak to you. 
“This really is a nice car. I wouldn’t abandon it either,” you furthered while handing him a giant-sized Fudge Nutter. 
After a few seconds, he took it. His fingers twiddled the unopened candy bar, his was still suspicion plain as day in his stormy eyes, only not quite as tempestuous as it was before. “I never told Klaus about the subway…and he shouldn’t remember what happened with any of that anyway because I reversed the timeline and changed all this bullshit. It never happened.”
You opened the door and sat down next to him.
“I did not say you could join me,” he huffed, getting even more adorably pissed.
“Relax. Klaus doesn’t remember telling me that stuff because he was drunk when he told me about it. And the reason you don’t remember telling him about that mess is because you were drunk when you told him,” you lied.
Five sucked in his lower lip, clearly thinking about that, and the fact that it was highly plausible he’d drunkenly spilled his guts since he wasn’t the best at holding his liquor.
“So…” you continued. “Consider it a closed loop of things nobody wants to think or talk about, including me. I just unleashed on you out there about it because you were being such an asshole. Believe it or not, I still think you are amazing.”
Five looked down at his hands, a small smile tugging his mouth to the side. “I was just moving through life, going through the motions that normal people are supposed to do. I had a chance to start fresh and I blew. You were right about that, and me being an asshole.”
Not sure what to say back to that, a silence resumed, other than the screeches of the vampires’ victims quietly filling his classic car’s small speakers.
Five cleared his throat as he looked over at you again. “Why are you here? Aside from what you said about thinking I am amazing, I mean.”
He grinned, his dimple coming out to render you as speechless.
The longer Five had to wait for you to answer, the cockier he looked, and the more you wanted to jump his bones, or maybe smack him. At that point, you still weren’t sure which would better.
“I don’t belong here. I think you can see that, but…”  You stopped. There was no way you could tell him that his world was based on a comic book because at this point you had no fucking clue if that was true or not. “But…I am here whether it makes sense or not, and you know what?”
“What?”
“I think it’s for a reason, and that’s because I wanted to be here with you.”
“Why?” he pushed.
“Because. It makes me happy to see you finally get the car that you always wanted. I want to see you have good things in your life, Five.”
He said nothing.
“Are you happy?” you questioned.
He gave you a blank look. “Sure. I am happy when you look at happiness relative to the years of me sleeping on the ground, eating bugs, constantly fighting for my life and everyone else's, everyday living in a nightmare.”
His chin dropped as he shook his head.
“My life is, and I fear always will be, pretty fucked up,” he said, followed by a self-depreciating laugh. 
You moved over just a little closer, your hand gingerly touching his, and to your surprise, Five took it, his fingers tangling with yours in a way that showed how desperate he was.
You didn't say a word, but you did scooch closer, and immediately Five opened himself to your advance, pulling you against him in an embrace that you were not at all expecting. 
He breathed in the smell of your hair, then pulled back again. His face melting into a soft smile, but then just as fast, his face contorted, his brows furrowing as he shut his eyes as if in pain.
“I am sick of all the death and the killing and the pain. I don’t want to be a part of that, I never did. I didn’t want any of this to happen.” 
His fingers balled up in his palm, but you refused to let go of the hand.
“Five, look at me.”
Opening his eyes, he whispered, “I did so much of this to myself and to so many others. All I do is hurt people.”
“That is not true. You are not a bad person. You did what you had to, and you've never been wrong for feeling the way you have about any of it. Don’t let yourself think any differently. That’s how you got into this mess. You may have reached for love in the wrong place, and that got burned, but this isn’t over. The Five Hargreeves I know never gives up.”
“I don’t know how to move on.”
You brought his hand to your mouth, running your lips across his knuckles, then flipping it over, you kissed the inside of his wrist, lingering where his umbrella tattoo had been. 
His voice cracked. “I can’t forget. I wish I could, but I can’t.”
“Maybe not, but you can start over, and replace all the bad with something good,” you assured, your words warm against his skin, each pass of your lips, accepting all of him, the good and the bad.
He looked so broken, but maybe this was just what he needed. 
Shifting in your seat, you pressed your mouth to his, and it was as if in that one gentle brush of your lips on his, time stood still.
You could have stayed like that next to Five forever, just softly kissing him, playing with the fluffy ends of his hair, letting him take all the time he needed to come out of the hate filled place he was in, but after a while, he began to pull his arm out from behind you, but it was only so he could shift your body over onto his lap. 
It was as if he held some kind of otherworldly power over you. Before you knew it, your legs were straddling him, your back against his steering wheel.
Looking into his eyes when he breathlessly broke your kiss, there was no way you could deny him, especially with that crease of concern finding its way back, marking his face with worry. Wanting to erase it and all the things haunting him, you started massaging the deep knots of tension out of his shoulders.
You pressed a kiss to his slightly parted lips even before he could breathe his first sigh of relief. Tongue swirling around with his, your hands moved down his chest, lightly exploring the dips and curves hiding under all his layers of clothing. 
Feeling him tensing again, you brought your hand up to his cheek. Surprising you again, Five submissively tipped his face into your palm, closing his eyes, surrendering as you delicately ran your lips across his troubled brow. 
“Just let it all go, Five,” you soothed. “It’s time to be young and stupid for once.”
He started laughing. His chest lifted and fell with a few shaky breaths, then he slowly sighed. Silently appreciating what you were doing, he rolled his head back into his seat.
Looking very relaxed, he cracked open one eye. He smiled that unbelievably handsome smile. Unable to help it, you traced a line along the narrow bridge of his nose, pulling your finger away just as he tried to take a bite out of it.
“Klaus was right.” Looking like he was about to devour you, Five smirked. “I do get nippy when I don’t get my nap. Sorry.”
Those compassionate eyes that could convey so much sorrow looked so full of hope as his gaze flicked down so he could check out how high your skirt had ridden up on your thighs.
Wanting to get him really riled up, you brought your hands back to his chest, unbuttoning first his vest, and then dress shirt. Once you had them opened, and his tie flung back over his head, you moved your palms over his hot skin, heading down, gingerly teasing the bunched-up fabric covering his crotch.
Five let out a long, slow breath, his eyelids slowly drooping closed as he smiled.
“I guess daddy likes that,” you taunted, touching him softly, your hand running back and forth.
He started laughing “You did not just say that while playing with my dick?”
“Yes. Yes, I did,” you laughed back, “and you know you liked it.”
Getting more into it, Five started rutted himself upwards.
He looked so beautiful getting hard in your hand, his words throaty and desperate. “Please don’t stop.”
With a quick glance, you confirmed the cars parked next to you were still empty.
You lowered yourself as much as you could, pressing kisses to his neck, then his shoulder as your hand kept at it, bringing him to his full potential. 
The hand Five originally had held against the small of your back started sliding up, his fingers digging at the clasps holding up your top. He couldn't figure it out, and really, it was probably better that he didn’t. Giving up, he captured your lips again and his kisses that started painfully sweet, quickly intensified as he drifted his hands down, latching them on your ass. His long, strong fingers cupped you, pulling your groin up against the erection trying to rip through his pants.
Pulling your lower lip between his, Five moaned like you were killing him, then he let go. “I think I just died and went to heaven because you aren’t wearing any panties,” he humorously declared.
That got you laughing again, and him covering your neck with nuzzled kisses. Locking a hand in your hair, he started assertively thrusting himself between your legs.
It wasn’t fair to let him do all the work, so you responded by eagerly working your hips, round and round, giving him the lap dance he was evidently craving.
“I am so lucky you don’t care how fucked up I am,” he groaned.
He bent in placing a path of kisses along your jaw while giving your hair another firm tug that had your head automatically dropping back.
Having full access to the side of your neck, Five took advantage, tearing into you like the vampire on screen, only with bites meant to mark you, not maim you.
All you could do was moan as he went wild, but in a brief moment where your brain kicked back on, you managed to reach down, reclining the seat. Then you pushed Five down, doing some of your own marking when your fingernails slid across his chest, leaving red lines across his pale skin.
Having fallen back against the newly adjusted seat, Five’s eyes closed, and his head rolled to the side. He rocked his hips faster, his hands forcing your body to move with his. “I am going to destroy you,” he panted.
When your tongue glided across his pecks, stopping to make a quick flick to one of his little nubs of flesh, he let out a hissing sound, his body involuntarily arching off his seat as his eyes flew open.
Not at all done fucking with him, you slid down, your butt ramming his steering wheel as you hand moved to his pants, unzipping him.
Five’s cock twitched as your fingers wrapped around its girth. When the weakest sound crept out of his throat, you get even wetter.
He exhaled with what looked like a painstaking effort as you started stroking him. “Fuck, yes.” He moved his hand over yours, tightening it over your fingers. 
There wasn’t a hint of modesty in Five’s exquisitely lustful expression as he writhed under you, and that only made him, and you helping him jerk off all the hotter.
He moved your hand up and down in sweeping motions, but not long after he started doing it, his fingers began crushing yours, urging you to grasp him much firmer than you would have without his assistance. 
The way he was going at it, it was like he wanted it to hurt. He moved your hands in sharp, vicious jerks.
He bit back an angry verbalization of unintelligible profanity, his shaft sliding faster as precum seeped out of him, spreading along his length. 
You thought he was looking for a quick release, but then, he stilled your hand. His hand trembled against yours as he peered up at you. “You really want this? With Me?”
“Yes.” You’d never been so sure of anything in your life.
His breathing changed, slowing down again, but only until you dared to tease the swollen head of his cock with your thumb, swirling it around and around. To that, Five let out a breathless chuckle, arching his back as he bucked his hips. 
He only let you get away with that teasing for about two seconds before he brought his hands under your bottom, urging you to rub your slippery heat against his hard length, helping you both get off.
“Oh, fuck this feels so good,” he groaned as he moved you back, urging you to raise up on your knees so he could move his hand between your legs.
Flipping your skirt out of the way, his fingers played along the invisible line where your underwear should have been, but he stopped there. “Can I?” he asked.
Nodding your consent, you said, “Five, you can do me any way you want.”
Hearing that, something in him seemed to come undone.
He started determinedly rubbing your folds, mesmerized by the glistening of your desire as it coated his fingers. He was enjoying doing that to you so much, more precum seeped from him onto his torso. Slowly and gently, he used his thumb in a circular motion, stimulating your clit while he carefully eased his index finger inside you.
“God damn, you are so tight,” he panted.
With the sexiest look of distress on his face, Five reached into his pants pocket, fishing out first his wallet, then a condom. He feverishly ripped open the small square package with his bared teeth while pulling his fingers from inside you at the same time so he could grip his cock in hand and roll the rubber down over his shaft. 
Even doing that had him cursing and the look of madness in his eyes had you quivering in anticipation.
“You need to lead this,” he warned.
He lined himself up and you began to lower your body over him, but as his swollen glans pushed up into you, your body reactively tightened against him, your own excitement working to deny itself. The size and fit issue you were having, and the look on your face about it, earned another breathy hiss from him.
Taking his hands off you completely, Five grasped at his seat, trying his best to remain still and let you take him at your pace.
Balancing yourself with your palm pressed against the window, you resolutely held his cock in your other hand, lowering yourself onto him again. 
Again, your body fought it. Your teeth studded into your bottom lip. With small movements, your hand noisily squeaking down the steamy glass, you were eventually able to sink all the way down, and the success of that was met with your both letting out obscene sounds of relief.
Your eyes crashed shut from the overwhelming sensation of taking in all of him. And it only got better when his hands claimed your breasts and he simultaneously dug his heels into the floor and lifted his hips.
You cried out as Five bottomed out. Pleasure and pain ripped through you, your entire body tightening around him.
You clutched his shoulders, your fingernails clawing into his tensed bands of muscle.
“Feels so-fffuck. Thank you for ffuck,” Five brainlessly panted.
You cried out again when, undaunted by your crushed expression or his inability to speak, he grasped your hips and coaxed you to move up and down, meeting you halfway. His needy thrusts were coming at you vigorously, the strength behind them like it was out of his control.
Your delirious cries as Five fucked himself up into you were beyond your ability to contain. You were unable to do anything other than paw at him as his feet slipped and dug against his floor, desperately searching for more leverage to grind his cock deeper than it already was.
Just when you were sort of getting used to this, Five changed pace and began rolling his hips as best he could while his butt was squashed down in the crook of his seat. The rhythm suited him, his body looking so fucking hot underneath you that only further blew your mind.
His rock-hard dick was stretching you to the point you couldn’t see straight. You were so wet from feeling every inch of him prodding and pulling at your insides, your whimpers were quickly becoming broken moans.
Holding you from going down on him all the way, the sensation of his delicious tip shallowly moving in and out just right, he smiled deviously. “You are mine from here on out. No matter what. Tell me you want that as much as I do.”
“I want this,” you repeated, bouncing on his dick to pull yourself over the edge.
Your world was suddenly getting very small. There was nothing but that sweet tension of him filling in, that delicious coil inside you unraveling, and the simple pleasure of him giving himself to you.
When you least expected it, that was when Five gave your ass a stinging slap, then he moved his hand back into play, circling the tips of his fingers against your clit, extra hard.
“Hey, Five?” Klaus said as he came up to the passenger side of the car. 
“Get out of here!” Five yelled.
“Whoospsie. Sorry, guys.” Laughing, Klaus did an about face, but you could still here him talking. “Nothing to see here people, just move along…yeah, the view is much better over there, and the weed is too.”
“Shhhh- Shhh-it,” you sputtered.
You were on fire, your thighs burning. Everything was coming to a head. Fighting to keep your eyes open, you started to shudder. Five started thrusting deeply again, forcing the breath out of you as his feet kicked down on the floor and his knees repeatedly slammed up against the steering wheel.
Pieces of his gorgeously wild hair fell into his eyes as he lay there with a fucked out smile, his forehead a sheen of shimmery sweat. “Come on, baby, cum on my cock,” he encouraged, giving you the ride of your life.
Unable to stay upright, your body toppled over the edge and tumbled down against him, your forehead falling against his shoulder. “Fivvvv- gah..ah, ah-” Orgasm slamming into you, you couldn’t move your hips anymore, let alone talk, but that didn’t stop Five.
Puffing air through clenched teeth, he kept pumping his cock up into you, so you could get the benefit of each and every wave of your shattering release.
“Mmmmfff, Fiiii-vvve, fffuc—uck,” you cried as his fingers dug into your waist, forcing you up and down, even after you’d gone limp as a rag doll flopped on top of him.
“I need to move,” he suddenly gasped.
You didn’t get it. He was moving.
Before you could associate the feeling of static building with his power coming to life, the humid air around you lit up the darkened car and everything around it. There was a sizzling, then a sharp loud crack, like the sound of him slapping your ass. A second later, only after Five did actually slap your ass again, carrying you in his arms, he set you down, sitting your bottom on the trunk of his car.
Your high heels fell off, hitting the ground next to his feet. Legs dangling around his hips, he nestled deep between your legs, his shirt wide open and his pants slipping down to his knees. 
In a dazed state of post orgasmic bliss, his dick still in you, your was head spinning.
There were woods on both sides of you, and you appeared to be parked in the middle of a road. There were the faintest sounds of people in the distance. You could be near the drive-in still, but then again, maybe not.
“Where are we,” you asked, frantically looking all around. It was so dark, you could hardly see anything.
“Don’t worry, you're safe,” Five replied in a way of explanation while smiling so boyishly innocently. “And to answer your question about me blinking larger things than myself. Size wise, my dick is pretty awesome, and it’s no simple task lugging it around through time and space, but you wanted to see what I could really do, so I decided to go full delivery boy for you. Took me over 69 years, but I have it all figured out now.” 
“Oh, my God, I think I love you,” you laughed.
“I think I could love you too,” Five concurred, bending in, his next words coming out with each gentle thrust that matched the cadence in-between his equally soft kisses. “Everyday. Just. Like. This.”
His hands moved up your back, the tickle of his fingers making you shiver. The bottoms of your bare feet pressing down on the car’s bumper, his mouth found its way to your collar bone where he started methodically moving his lip along the crest of it, licking and nipping as he undid the clasps on your shirt, this time getting it on his first try.
The cotton bodice slipped off your arms and he stopped everything so he could admire you. “So beautiful,” he said, then forcefully slid your bottom across the trunk until he was buried full deep, pressing you to his chest.
Clinging to his shoulders, you whimpered.
“Laydown,” Five breathed. “I want to see all of you.”
With the firm direction of his hands pressing you down, you did as he wanted, easing back against the trunk.
Taking you under the knees, flipping your skirt up and your legs over his arms, Five pulled your hips out away from the car, giving himself more command over your body. 
Almost right way, his eyes rolled back in his head as began to fuck you, pulling himself all the way out before slamming back in. “Oh, fuck yeah,” he groaned, fighting to see straight.
His feet dug into the gravel under his shoes, his hands yanking your ass towards him as he drove himself faster, his pelvis smacking into you with the sound of hot and sweaty flesh on flesh. The faster he snapped his hips, the more you felt like you were falling even though you weren't. Your hands scrambled for purchase, looking for anything to hold onto on the slippery trunk, but all you found as you grasped was slick blue paint. 
“I fucking love fucking you,” Five grunted, fucking you faster and faster.
Again, your body was on the verge of pain and pleasure from how aggressively he was going at it, but as he lost himself, the rope inside you slipped out of your hold, the freefall pushing you to climax again. 
You slipped forward, sure the rest of your body was going to slip off the trunk and hit the ground, but Five didn’t let up.
“Five! My-yyah-hahh, Fiv-ffff-help-ffffuck!” 
His hips rapidly thwacked, his breathy grunts coming faster.
“I-I’ve got you,” he sputtered, his body fighting to keep moving, his eyes fighting to stay open.
He was shaking in a violent stream of tremors, and even with the condom on, you could feel his release throbbing spurts of his seed deep inside you. 
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuccck!” he gasped as his hips moved. His chest heaved with every intake of breath, pained sounds clawing out of him when he exhaled. 
His movements started to lack any pattern, and a profound and satisfied form of relaxation washed over you as he slowed. He dreamily gazed down at you like he was going to pass out.
Looking like he had hardly the energy to do it, balancing your one leg hooked around his arm, Five took himself in hand, gently as possible pulling out of you. 
“Oh my God,” you gasped, as your body spasmed a few more times.
Moving along, Five flung off the heavy rubber he’d filled, tossing it in the ditch, then he readjusted your boneless body, pulling you up next to him so he could kiss you, over and over, whispering unbelievably sweet words and not all of them in English.
With a fraction of space between your lips, he said your name. “...., Thanks to you, I think I finally learned my lesson. It’s time to start living life on my own terms.”
His lips curled in a very curious way that immediately had you wondering what he could be up to now. 
Lifting you, he shuffled back at step, trying not to trip on his pants. Reaching out, you heard the sound of his trunk popping open, then he dumped you inside. 
Stunned, you looked up at him with wide eyes. “Wha-”
“Ah-Ah-Ah, sweetheart,” he menacingly sang while twirling the shoulder strap of your top around his finger. “I’m not letting you get away. You're mine now, remember.”
The darkness started closing in around you. “Five!” you screeched.
“I'm just kidding.” He chuckled at you. “They call me a psycho for good reason, but I am not the put you in my trunk kind of psycho,” he teased, while pulling you back to him. Just as he was about to kiss you, you started to fall.
Your ass hit the floor in front of your couch.
Rapidly blinking, your hair tangled in front of your face, you looked over at your TV. 
H. J. Well’s ‘The invisible Man’ was playing. The doctor who went mad with power, turned villain on a murder spree, was standing there in his black suit with his silly white bandages wrapped around his face. Even though you couldn’t see them, you could sense his empty eyes staring back at the blonde beauty next to him. All he longed for was to go back to before he’d ruined everything. All he wanted was to be loved.
Your chest started shaking with your laughter and your eyes misted over.
Five was gone. 
It was all a dream, a very real and very wet dream based on the feel of your underwear.
Five was never there, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t feel him. He was real in your mind, and just like he’d said, no matter what, he was yours. His story was whatever you wanted it to be, and nobody, not even a botched season finale would make you stop loving him.
With you, he could live on forever.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~Thank you for all the nice requests, guys. I can't do them all, but I do my best with the ones I take on. I hope you liked this one and the idea in it can help heal your own s4 broken hearts. I know that it helps me to rewrite Five's story, time and time again.
And yes. I totally have snuck into a drive-in in the trunk of a car with my friend's foot in my face, and I have done all sorts of inappropriate things in cars while I was supposed to be watching the big screen. Being young and dumb is wonderful, and everyone needs at least a few adventures that don't end with the world ceasing to exist. Just don't get caught. 😜
Cheers lovelies. ❤️ Till next time.
Link to view all my Tumblr story and art posts
Link to my Five centric master list
Link to visit me direct on A03
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missmarveledsblog · 3 days ago
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In love with its fate series and the oneshots can you do a hc or oneshot of how bradley proposed also nicknaming her sunny genius cause hes rooster and shes sunshine 😭😭😭💓💓
of course i will i touched on it lightly in Brooster but here's the full story of how brooster propose to the future mrs sunny bradshaw.
Soon to be Mrs Brooster
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summary : rooster finally plans to put a ring on sunny's finger
warning : tooth rotten fluff , rooster being a simp
He was waiting for this , probably since the first moment he actually met her , talked to her.  He was ready to ask the moment their first date was ended but he bided his time much to everyone surprise bradley lasted two years before he was doing what they honestly thought was going to happen much sooner . a week back from their trip from visiting her parents and getting one of the most important yes which was their permission to ask her to be his. To finally make y/n “ sunny “ seresin his soon to be wife ( officially ) .  he couldn’t imagine his life not having this woman in his life from her laugh to her putting him and jake in their place ( he wouldn’t be surprised if mav had her on speed dial ) .  He went through so many ways to do it from writing it in the sky ,  on the beach as they flown above to even doing it in the hard deck randomly but none of that felt much right so he decided to bring it back to the first date , that night was something he would never forget he really pulled out all the stops and never stopped but that night was one both his and her favourites .  thanksgiving had just ended and christmas was now the next one , he could wait til then but he was sure he would explode if he was to do so . He had all hands on deck , from jake help as much as he love to annoy rooster he would help with anything he knew would make his little sister happy  even if that was actually rooster. 
The coming day bradley  was practising what to say wondering what would sound best but nothing was fitting , nothing stood out . then trying to get everything like it was that night felt impossible  the lights and candles seemed to needing to be replaced but yet out of stock giving christmas was the next approaching holiday . it was like everything was against the whole idea even jake was going out of his way to get what was needed. It wasn’t til the day before when nat and bob ran into the hangar panting and sweating holding boxes and bags in their hands . 
“ we got them , well nat got them , she almost beat up an old lady “ bob gulp when she glared at him. 
“ you’re welcome bradshaw also name that first born after me and we call it even”  she shrugged ignoring the look of slight fear and impressed that pete michell was giving her . 
“ not up to me but i’ll let sunny know … well if she says yes .. shit what if she doesn’t say yes” he went to from happy to panicking  in a spilt second all the nerves hitting in the one second making him to want to explode and every fear coming to the surface .  irrational fear not that he could see how much his love is returned  or how she was  just as crazy about him , no sense or reason could reach this man in the spiral of what if that spun around his head .   the face of fear and everything that was neighbouring on his face as the dagger squad offered reassurance . It was like something between the chaos and the signs of the universe  or grace of god that sunny walked into the door holding something as simple as his lunch and moment she saw him distressed and upset even not having a clue what was really going on, yet she ran to his side instantly hands on each cheek , she was speaking barely register til he saw the worry and concern all over her face .  pure love  in her eyes grounding him , melting every  bad negative feelings like a universal fate filled sign this was meant to be.  Feeling himself come back to his senses just by her touch not that it need to be said but he was truly and completely in love with this woman . 
“ brooster baby you  ok ?” her voice that sweet sugar sweet voice hitting his ears making him feel like he could breathe again .   
“ yeah it i’m ok just tough week is all “ a smile on his face he wasn’t completely lying he staying up a bit later  making sure everything would be perfect . 
“ why don’t you take rest of day off , we don’t have much to do today “ Mav smiled softly , he always did in a sense they were so similar to carole and nick in the way they were so taken with each other but yet so different in a way too. 
“ thank you pete , i’ll make sure he gets some rest “ she beamed not even waiting for her man to respond even when she threw his keys to nat . almost pulling him out of the bunker not taking any excuse that was bound to come out of his mouth nope she was not having it that’s for sure  not that he could , as much as he would work to the bone to make sure she was ok he did enjoy when she would look after him too something he had to get used to since most women before were so different  not that it was bad but it wasn’t like this . 
The day before the engagement maybe was something he needed that sort of reset and refresh now that he was looking back. But it also just made him want to do it more , it gave him the perfect idea’s that were staring him back in the face . as he sat in their shared space , their home . her little knick knacks that placed around the place , little cushions and pieces that made it a home. Something he thought he made it a home but clearly it was not like that until she came along and showed him how much of a home this house could be .   things that brighten up the area sort of like a representation of how she brightened up his life.   She busied herself while he was sitting eating the lunch she warmed up for him then once he was finished she led him up to the bathroom  only for him to see the bathroom covered in the scented candles , the scents of lavender and chamomile that hit his nose , a kiss on his cheek placing the beer on the side of the tub and heading off once more leaving him pouting that she wasn’t going to be joining him .  when he was out , clean and relaxed in every sense to see his pyjamas that he only ever wore as sort of lounge clothes .  only coming down to the living room more and more each thing she was doing was making it easier and easier for what he would do the next day .  eating dinner watching his comfort movies and comfort foods little things to put his overworked brain to rest. 
That morning rooster woke knew lease of life , knowing what he wanted to do and how to make it perfect for his girl. Letting her sleep he crept from the bed slowly got dressed headed to the cafe the one where the first properly talked got to know each other  . getting her a coffee and alongside her favourite pastry then he got breakfast on way home with her favourite flowers . waking her up with kisses all over her face looking down at  the smile on her sleepy face was something that always made his day better , if he woke in a foul mood all he would need to rectify that was seeing her smile . Then they went to the beach  like it was just a normal day but he knew it wasn’t , the dagger squad. Then for lunch he brought her to her favourite place seeing her excitement was always a highlight in his week. Then at home again like normalish  day maybe the fact he was spoiling her a little extra was there but he would shrug it off and say she deserved it  or when he told her they had a surprise date to which she excitedly expressed she got to wear the new dress she gotten the other day with nat for, one he got nat to bring her own  .  every single time she would leave him lost for words but then again it could be a potato sack and she would look the most beautiful woman to ever walk gods green earth.  
That night was like so many date only more special since it was the very restaurant they went to for their first date. She told him of her christmas plans for her kindergarteners all the fun and magic she wanted to give them before they were off for christmas as well as some plans for their own christmas like going to virginia so bradley could see his parents .
“ we can go texas for christmas “ he shrugged it  off. 
“ nah i already told my mama she got us for thanksgiving  , ok i may of booked the rental house which jake paid for  and  i will get our food in advance and have it brought with us “ she beamed. “ least this time you won’t be alone when you go and you get to spend christmas with your folks in a way “ she kissed his hand holding it close. 
“ you would spend your christmas in a graveyard just so i could have christmas with my parents?”. 
“ brooster radley bradley  i would spend christmas  in a dive bar in middle of nowhere if it was something you wanted but it not that it’s spending time with people you love whatever shape or form which is more important “ she giggled . 
“ i wish they got you meet you because jesus christ baby you are most perfect woman i’ve ever met you know that” he smiled feeling his eyes misty and lump in his throat , 
“ i wish i could of met em too , thank them for bringing such a handsome , funny man like you into the world , oh  it was suppose to be a surprise so can’t tell jake i told you apparently your not allowed to know he likes you” she shook her head wiping the few tears falling down his face  not knowing more would come then once dinner was done they headed to what she thought was the hard deck to finish the night off .  only for him to  to bring her near the entrance again tricking her then moving to toward the beach that sat behind .   the light and candle seemed even more magical she couldn’t place her finger on why but it was even more fairytale like than that night .   the add rose petal that place everywhere leading them to the sand except this time it wasn’t a speaker that await for them but a live music . he may of pulled a favor or two getting couple of people he knew could play their favourite songs .  it something she would of never experience in her life and yet with brooster radly bradley bradshaw he made those things possible .  the moonlight high in the sky hitting the water so beautifully . he held his hand out to her sway  wanting to capture the way she looked in that very moment burn the image into his mind for the rest of his life , the sound of her laugh when he twirl her around . this was it  granted he had both knees on the ground fixing himself and the confused on her face then the realisation when he pulled the ring out.
“ baby i can’t imagine what i did in this life to even begin to figure out how i got  lucky to get a girl like you in my life , ever since i was a little boy my mom told me of  soul mates , how i was going to find the woman of my dreams  and i would be so in love and i thought she finally was going off her rocker than i started seeing this absolutely breathtaking beauty everywhere and i was a goner and then i met her over coffee even though her brother warned me to stay away “ he chuckled and she shook her head but tear falling down her face . “ but i couldn’t not when i talked more and more with this beautiful way out of my league kindergarten teacher who just make the world so much better and brighter by being in it the love i have for you is the love my mom told me about all those years , the one that finally made me think i deserve love , one that without even thinking would spend her day to make me feel better or is willing to spend her christmas in a grave yard just so i can see my parents. Baby there is and never will be anyone in this world that i would or could spend the rest of my life with  than you and i don’t know how i waited so  long to do this but please would you do me the honor and marry me ?” he voice cracked looking up to see her tear filled face and smile so wide. 
“ yess i will marry you bradley radley brooster “ letting him place the ring on her finger what he didn’t expect was her to dive on him there and then excitedly on the sand kissing all over his face . “ i love you so much “ was all she could get out of her mouth before his lips crashed into hers .   he said it from day one she was going to be the future misses bradshaw and she always hope she would be mrs bradley radley  brooster .
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starqueensthings · 1 year ago
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all up my Jesse feels today 🥹 (literally every day)
*click for best quality
ragulist: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @starrylothcat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @freesia-writes @blueink-bluesoul @523rdrebel @littlemissmanga @wings-and-beskar @sunshinesdaydream @clonemedickix @drafthorsemath @jediknightjana
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gutsby · 3 months ago
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Make It Stick
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Pairing: Old!Joel x Reader
Summary: Joel never thought he’d need a vasectomy. Then, one night, he accidentally finishes inside you.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected-peepaw-p-in-v (I’m sorry). Accidental creampie. Age gap. Cumplay. Breeding kink. Ovulation has led me places I wouldn’t go with a gun.
Note: Convergence is a painting by Jackson Pollock. We studied it in high school and I thought it looked like jizz idk
Word count: 4.7k
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He should’ve gotten snipped when he had the chance.
Should’ve taken the plunge, faced his fears of needles and fluorescent-washed doctor’s offices like any man his age could have done and gotten the damn vasectomy. Now he was here, nearly two decades older and still none the wiser in this cold, dead world with a pretty young thing like you between his sheets. In lieu of elective surgery, Joel Miller had only to grit his teeth, bite hard, and repeat over and over again in his head, desperate:
‘Don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum, DON’T—’
Words like those normally worked. With women that weren’t you, they tended to serve him exceedingly well.
But you were just so tight. And wet. And welcoming. And try as Joel might to pretend like he got laid on a regular basis, the truth was that he didn’t. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t seem to think straight when it came to this fixation he’d developed for you, so, instead, he let his dick do all the decision-making whenever he found himself around you. Ten times out of ten that ended in:
“J-J-Joel—oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck—I’m gonna CUM.”
And that made it worth every last life-endangering drop.
Feeling how your flushed, lithe body came apart beneath his touch. How you needed him. How your eyes grew to half the size of your face and you gaped up at the man, lips parted, like you couldn’t even comprehend how the friction of seven inches could make you feel so good.
If he had it his way, he would’ve loved nothing more than to show you that feeling every night, and twice the next morning if his hip wasn’t giving him too much trouble.
But, at present, the man had bigger fish to fry. Like not becoming a new father at fifty-nine if he could help it.
With the last two fluttering pulses of your heat, and almost going cross-eyed from the pleasure as he felt it, Joel yanked his big, slippery cock out of your body and made a fist around his member as he always knew to do. Tugged and pulled and grunted above you—‘Sweet girl, you’re so fuckin’ good to me’—and watched your tits and your belly for the milky white ropes to ensue.
Strangely, though, your skin stayed the same.
No cum-spray Convergence appeared before him, no opaque and cloudy fluids dribbling down your ribs, nothing. Your stomach was as bare as the rest of you, save for a few beads of sweat, and that was all there was.
Joel shook his dick harder, confused. Beneath him, you were still coming down from your high smiling ear-to-ear and staring blissfully at the ceiling. Your chest rose and fell, rose and fell in quick succession, and while you endeavored to recollect your mind, Joel was losing his.
Where the FUCK was his cum?
In no naked horizontal tango to date had Joel simply…cum without noticing. Shit like that just didn’t happen to men, least of all to ones his age, so when he’d wrung his poor cock like a sodden towel and still saw nothing come out, he felt his stomach turn and plummet inside him.
He dropped to his hands and knees in less than a moment and lowered his head between your legs.
“No, Joel!” you squealed, giggling. Kicking your feet, “Another round and I’m gonna combust, you old perv!”
But Joel wasn’t looking to get his dick wet again. He was inspecting you. Or trying to, anyway. Quickly realizing he couldn’t see a thing in the darkness, he let out a breath through his nose and lifted you off the bed. Your naked frame thrown over his shoulder, bare hip beside his head and your strangled, muffled cry of, ‘What the hell, Joel?!’ hardly seemed to register with the man carrying you off.
You were toted to the bathroom. Joel was about to ease you down on your feet. Then, appearing to change his mind at the last second, he set you onto the sink instead. Your skin bristled with indignation, anger. A little arousal.
“Last time we did it on a sink we broke the faucet,” you reminded him, feigning more dismay than you really felt inside. If anything, you liked it when your fossil-age fuckbuddy switched things up. You were just exhausted.
Heedless of your words, Joel kneeled on the floor and pried your legs apart before him. When you swatted at his silver-flecked head, he brushed your hand away.
“Hold still,” he grunted.
“How come?”
“‘Cause I said.”
How quickly he commanded that tone of a father.
“Wanna sleep,” you groaned, about to roll your eyes.
But you couldn’t deny you liked being doted on by him.
Joel’s touch was gentle. Probing. Spidering down the most sensitive parts of your bare lower half, between your thighs, and slowly coaxing you closer to the edge of the sink. Your breath hitched when you saw his head tilt.
He appeared to be deep in thought—a rare sight for anyone who’d seen Joel Miller in the postcoital state. Most every time he’d blown his load before, the man was dead asleep within ten minutes. His joints could barely hold himself upright after a half hour of plowing the back forty, much less carry you, too, so you were puzzled now.
He thumbed at the seam of your cunt, and you whined:
“Jo-el—”
“Can ya…push, baby?” His eyes flitted up quickly.
“Push?”
“Yeah, just…” With a look you couldn’t quite read, he placed the palm of his other hand on your belly. Then, pressing, “Like this. Like you’re squeezin’ somethin’ out.”
You cocked a brow in muted confusion but did as he asked. You watched his gaze, and it stayed on you.
Or, rather, on that soft and pliant spot between your legs the old man seemed to favor so much. On any other occasion, in a position like this, he surely would’ve been wearing a smile. Tonight, his lips curled into a grimace.
And twisted even further when you ‘pushed’ like you did.
At first you felt nothing. A gentle clench of your walls supplied little more than a sense of having been stretched—no novel concept to you, who’d spent the last three-and-a-half months or so getting fucked by the finest AARP affiliate alive most every night. It wasn’t until you clamped down again that you got the feeling there was something else. Something thick and warm and slow as molasses trickling out from between your folds.
You let out a low, tender, ‘Mmph’ without meaning to; it felt kind of nice. Beneath you, Joel’s face turned grave.
He watched as his spend oozed out of your freshly-fucked hole and thought of vasectomies again.
You were young—too young to know better. Too sweet and naïve to see any peril in spreading your legs for a man like him, in a world like this. And Joel swore he’d be careful. But no post-apocalyptic birth control method was perfect, or even close to it, and it was clear he’d relied too heavily on reflexes to keep him from cumming inside you. Joel was old—too old to be doing this shit.
Too grown and well-versed in sex to be making mistakes as stupid as that. His brow pinched in, and he drew his next breath as if the air around him was growing scarce.
“Joel, what’s—”
“When’s the last time you— you— uh…bled?”
Hardly more in control of his face than the rate his heart went thudding in his chest, Joel winced at the end. This time, you were the one to knit your eyebrows together. You could tell by that tight, discomfited tone he wasn’t talking papercuts, but were still unsure of his purpose.
“Like two, two and a half weeks ago. Why?”
Well, fuck.
Joel buried his face in his hands. You scooted closer to the sink’s edge, thinking little of his cum leaking out.
“Why?” you tried again. Softer this time.
An old, weathered head lifted to greet you. It was bleak.
“You see this?” Joel paused. Swiping his finger through the viscous white substance that had trickled out on the counter, in a puddle now, “Y’know what it means, right?”
You let his look, and the question, remain suspended in air for a second. Then another. Then you shrugged.
“Yeah. But…you’re old,” came your answer at length.
You’re old.
Joel and you both knew as much, but the former wasn’t quite following your train of thought. Still wanting to try and mitigate damages while he could, though, Joel reached for the roll of toilet paper that was fastened to the wall and tore himself a strip. He bunched it up and, reaching for one of your knees to spread you further for him, took to daubing the tissue across your entrance.
“What’s me bein’ old got to do with anything?” A little sharp, then, seeing you flinch when he drew too close to your clit, “‘m sorry, baby, just— gotta get this out of you.”
You made a face but let him continue anyway. Your eyes followed each movement of his hand, and reflexively, the muscles in your thighs tightened. Why bother with this when the man has so many better uses for his hands?
For a second, your eyes fluttered half-shut.
“Maria says old folks are, uh…infertile. Got something to do with a middle pause,” you said, breaths labored.
Joel stopped just long enough to shoot you a look.
“Menopause,” he corrected, all too matter-of-fact, before returning to his work, “is a woman thing.”
What the hell were they teaching in Jackson’s sex ed classes, anyway? Then Joel remembered how his brother sincerely believed that women peed out of their vaginas until he was twenty-three, and the thought of you not knowing the ins and outs of male virility wasn’t the most far-fetched idea in the universe. Besides, sexual health wasn’t exactly the community’s highest priority when the world around it was in a perpetual state of decay and hordes of fungus-faced fuckers ran rampant in the wild.
He curved a tender, careful finger against the ring of muscles framing your sex, trying to absorb more cum, and your grip on the edge of the countertop tightened.
“S-So, you—” You swallowed, throat constricting a little too, “You’re sayin’…men can make babies…whenever?”
You sounded so innocent as you said it. Joel wanted nothing more than to club himself over the head for being the cause of this predicament—of being such an instrumental part of the perceived corruption, as it was.
Meanwhile, your head was swimming in filthier thoughts.
Deeper, Joel, keep…pushing in…dee-e-per. You would have scarcely had more luck giving a fuck what Joel was talking about now than if he’d just said the room was on fire. By his voice, you knew you should’ve been paying attention, but the dexterity of his fingers was too much. He was caressing the first couple inches of your inner walls, attempting to scrape what bits of his release he could get unstuck from the flesh, but it seemed he was succeeding mostly in just turning you on. Rendering you deaf to the drone of his words as you pictured him pushing something else inside your tight, throbbing—
“—whole lotta problems for us if you’re, uh…ovulating,” Joel finished, expression taut and oblivious. You hadn’t heard the first part of that sentence and didn’t care to.
“Ovulating,” you repeated slowly. Indifferent.
Joel carried on without a hitch.
“Kids just ain’t fit for this world. I know you know that.”
You nodded along, not hearing a word.
“And if you’re— if y’ever did consider, maybe…”
Your lungs took an extra sharp inhale when Joel’s fingers coaxed out a warm, sticky glob of his load, and he petted your folds with his thumb. Then let out a breath himself.
“…y’oughta start a family with someone your own age—”
That part snagged your attention. Too swiftly, it came:
“My own age?”
Sighing, in spite of those welts of pleasure so heightened by his touch that the space between your legs began to throb and ache. Hardly possessed of more sense to form words that weren’t just echoes of his own, you tried communication from a simpler source—your foot.
You nudged his shoulder, and Joel looked up.
“What?”
“What?”
Parroting was, evidently, a hard habit to kill. Your toes curled into the bare skin of Joel’s shoulder, and when he re-inserted his finger, you ground your heel even deeper.
“When’s that ev…ever stopped us from doing it before, hm?” you said, tone strained but laced with some humor too, “Thought you liked sayin’ you’d make me a mama.”
Joel’s face flooded pink at the recollection—as a matter of fact, there had been several such memories. Instead of answering immediately, he just averted his gaze again. He anchored one hand to your thigh, and with the other teased out another string of your shared arousal before wiping his finger on the tissue, clinically, and repeating. All he had to offer in reply after was: ‘That’s different.’
And it was, to some extent. Joel wasn’t blind to the sea of uneasy looks that trailed behind you both whenever you walked the streets of Jackson together. How wide the eyes would get when instead of observing some filial display of affection play out before them, as expected, you’d loop your arms around his waist and take his lip between your teeth as you kissed—‘Can we please go home now, baby?’—that Joel was certain he’d been cemented as the resident pervert among everyone in town. Just how much worse that reputation was liable to get if there ever happened to be a round and swollen belly between that embrace someday was unthinkable. Dirty talk was one thing; parenthood another entirely.
This is for the best, became the low, grating refrain in his skull. Why he dug so hard, pushed so far inside the wet, velvety interior of your body without a thought for his own desires in that moment; he had to cull every trace of himself out of there, before he had half a chance to think.
“Baby, hey, hey, no—” Joel cut in a second later, abrupt.
No, no, no. You weren’t thinking either. Wrapping your hand around his wrist, pushing his fingers deeper inside.
Smiling a little, too.
“What are you— no, honey, don’t— you can’t,” Joel’s words splintered in every direction, watching you plunge his own index and middle fingers into the slick and the warmth he’d just been trying to get his cum out of. He looked up and saw your lids were heavy, about to close.
“What are you doin’? This ain’t…no, baby, it ain’t…safe.”
Back to sounding like a dad in no time at all.
“What’s wrong with leaving it in a bit longer? Feels nice.”
You had no idea what you were talking about. Joel pulled back on his hand and, in less than a second, had it freed.
“I just told you,” he huffed, “You’re too young—”
“I’m plenty old, Joel,” you returned, eyes snapping open, “You’ve shown me that more times than I can count.”
Joel was silent, stunned. He rose to his feet as your eyes seared holes into his, and for a second, he was uncertain whether to take a step back or reach out for you again.
“Baby…”
To his surprise, something like hurt surfaced behind your eyes. You set your lips in a tighter line, and your grip on the counter grew firmer just the same. He would’ve taken that move as his cue to lean in gently, slot his body between your thighs, and venture an apology of some sort, when the next thing you did stopped him cold.
Without a word, you slipped your free hand between your legs—eyeing Joel closely, almost scornfully, as you did.
You took your middle and ring fingers and sank them into your cunt. Not intending to let a drop of his spend leak out, you wedged them in as far as they’d go. Joel watched. Gawked. Once sufficiently pleased with the look of shock taking over his handsome, aged features, you withdrew the fingers. You brought them up to your mouth, wrapped your lips around the tips, and sucked.
It was a rare thing to get a taste of you and Joel together like this, so you savored it. You moved your mouth further down to drink it all in, peering up with wide, indulgent eyes and a look that was meant to punish.
Feels nice.
Tastes alright, too.
You’d licked the last bit of this glaze off your hand when your stomach clenched. You knew it would happen. Full as you were, you feared your body still hungered for more. As such, it hardly came as a surprise when next your muscles tensed, and you shifted closer to Joel.
“Maybe I don’t want babies with someone my own age.”
Either one of your knees were nudging his hips. Drawing him in. Joel appeared to waver for a second, unsure, but the look on his face made it clear this was mostly a matter of a delayed reaction. He couldn’t get his legs to move because the rest of him was still in awe. Staring at your lips, where the residue of his spend was glistening, then to your eyes, which were no less inviting, then up to the crown of your head and over it, to fix his stare on the mirror behind it. You watched him watch his own reflection with a look that was both hard and unkind, breathing slow. When he didn’t stir from that position after a minute, you touched a hand to his lower stomach.
And, brushing the heel of your palm against what felt like a hundred grey hairs in the old man’s happy trail—your favorite ones—you smoothed a caress along his belly, back and forth, before moving it left. Your hand came to rest on a mound of muscle and fat sitting right above his hip. Love handles, Joel had remarked one morning with vague distaste. Love handles, you’d repeated, beaming. You held on tightly now, appreciatively, and used your well-loved wall of flesh to pull him closer. As with any beckoning of yours, Joel didn’t have so much as half a mind to resist. He did, however, refuse to meet your gaze while you tilted your hips and spread your legs wider, before winding your ankles around the backs of his legs.
“Don’t you think I’d look pretty?” You pouted up at him. Your folds made a light, warm suction rubbing along the front of Joel’s cock—of course he’d grown hard again, and you could hold him, point him down to that wet embrace awaiting him patiently at the edge of the sink.
Joel cursed under his breath.
“‘Course I do…” he said, voice hoarse, “Y’always look—”
“I mean…with your baby inside me, Joel. Right here.”
As if to put a finer point on your words, you nestled the head of his cock inside the first inch of your body. Joel had to seize the laminate underneath you and grit his teeth to keep from letting out a groan too loud. That tip may as well have been a first-rate conductor of heat, and your warmth the thing that might send him spilling again
“You don’t—” Joel choked out, nearly incensed, “—don’t know what the hell you’re sayin’, baby. What that means.”
In truth, there wasn’t a world Joel Miller could imagine where a girl like you could give more than a passing thought to getting knocked up by him—a man his age. What good would it do? You had your whole life laid out before you like a four-course dinner spread; there was no sense whatsoever in letting the meal go to waste on him.
He communicated as much by moving to pull out.
You met the effort with a push of your own, sinking down another inch or two on his shaft and smiling when you saw his eyes roll back in his head at the dizzying friction.
“I know more than enough, old man—” Grin stretching ear-to-ear as you dug your heels in his ass and tugged him deeper, “—who do you think taught me all this?”
Of course, it had been Joel.
Always, always him—the only one, in fact.
Your walls drew him in like a hug. For once, Joel conjured up the strength to take a look between your lower half and his, and when he did, the next moan was inevitable. It trickled through his lips. Your body looked sublime swallowing a third of his cock, and it was almost as though a maggot had crawled into his brain, chanting:
‘Make her full. Make her yours. Tell any man who’d even think of looking her way she belongs to someone else.’
He couldn’t.
Joel would never be so selfish. Just think of her youth.
But when his gaze drifted back to yours, every thought and any word besides seemed gently to melt away. Beneath him, your eyes were two pools of desire.
“You like this…don’t you, Joel?” Your voice was tiny.
“I do.”
In fact, he loved it.
“Then why can’t we?” Why shouldn’t we?
Minuscule now, the words that reached him barely exceeded a whisper. It was as though the moment itself had drained all fear from your face—and out of Joel, all common sense from his brain—leaving you both to stare at the other with shared, stupid, anoetic looks of bliss. The man who had you beat by thirty-odd years seemed nearly of the same mind, with almost identical ignorance.
Idiocy.
“Just once?” Joel croaked.
Somewhere underneath, unseen, you smiled.
“Just one?” you murmured back.
He sank in another inch. When your walls contracted around him, Joel’s hands found your hips by force of habit and pushed your back against the glass behind it. The mirror was cool, and inside you, Joel was throbbing.
“Once,” he repeated, not thinking too deeply.
“One,” you said, with a world of more purpose.
Joel relinquished the last three inches, and with it, all of his resolve. The handsome, scarred, and plainly greying features all twisted as one, and the expression that you knew too well to mean that the man was feeling good took on the slightest hint of guilt. He gripped you tighter.
“One?” Joel panted. Confused.
He pulled out halfway just to find his home again. Your pearly slick mixed together with his spend, and both coated over Joel’s shaft in a pretty, generous sheen.
“One more of you, I mean.” You sounded too sweet. There was no way in hell you’d actually meant it.
Joel’s cheeks flushed again, but he didn’t stop, either.
“Baby…” he trailed off instead. He pushed in, pulled out, felt your tender little hole make an ‘o’ around his shaft, and then he kissed the edge of your left cheek—maybe to rein in the need in his words before he spoke again: “One’a me takes and I’m givin’ ya fifteen more, y’hear?”
The smile he received told him as much as he needed to hear. He probably wouldn’t have believed it even if you’d said the words yourself. Joel’s thrusts sped up, and as the pleasure distended in the pit of his stomach with the friction and the feel, his words flowed a little more freely.
In disbelief, “Wanna be a mama that bad for me, huh?”
Your grin grew bigger. You nodded your head.
“Make your old man a daddy, is that it?”
Exactly. Senseless as it was, your look said it all.
To have slipped between the grooves and ridges of Joel’s brain and caught wind of even a fraction of the things he wanted to do to you then, a smarter girl would have run. Would have shoved him back out as swiftly as she’d let him in and told him no, that’s gross, and gone home. And, had the grey matter floating inside your own skull not been so completely dominated by primal need and wanting, that’s likely what you would have done, too. Instead, with a head full of lewd, youthful stupidity, you seized the black-grey curls dangling at the nape of his neck and drew him closer. You spread your legs wider.
“That is what you’ve wanted this whole time, right?”
Under his scruff, a muscle tensed as Joel bit down.
That’s all he’s ever wanted.
Let the neighbors talk.
Let them say what they wanted to say—it was probably all true to the point they were trying to make, anyway. That Joel was a pervert, of course. That you were naïve, also true. That you would look too good not to stare in a white cotton frock with a bump underneath, absolutely. These were the ideas permeating your brain and his while Joel took a firmer hold of your sides and brought his nose to rest against yours. With every stab of his hips, he pressed kisses to your soft, parted lips, speaking low:
“That what you want, too, darlin’?” More serious now.
The head of his cock nicked a sensitive ridge inside you, eliciting a whimper, but you nodded. You nodded again, feeling the brush of his stubble at your mouth and your chin, and nodded again when he bottomed out, stuffing you tight. It felt a little more momentous than any other time in the past, now that you were picturing a fullness that wasn’t just him. Him and you: a concrete being to soothe the sting of his absence long after Joel withdrew.
Something to stick.
“Please say it, baby.”
Someone to call yours.
“I want it,” you said, sounding desperate.
A coil was just starting to form in the place you felt him. Drifting up, pulling tight, making your eyes go glossy and wide while they stuck to Joel’s and begged him for more.
“Want what?” He sped up, and his thrusts got sloppy.
“Want you,” you breathed, “Inside me, Joel, please.”
As if predicting your next thoughts, the man lowered his hand to your belly. You hadn’t even noticed the smallest bulge had taken shape beneath the skin. Joel slowed, momentarily, then rubbed the base of his palm against the mound where your body was obliged to make room for his cock inside you. He drew soft, tender circles there and, with the motion, sent stars flying before your eyes.
“Good girl,” he murmured, “Right here?”
“Ri— right there. Right there.”
Joel adored that sound. The soft, elated look, the gentle knoll of flesh in a bump below his hand, the whimpers rolling off your tongue repeatedly, quicker and quicker the more the pleasure inside you continued to build. Joel’s release was coming soon, too. For the hundredth time that night, he silently wished he were a little younger; so he could fill you up once, twice, twenty more times until your insides were stuffed and painted white. As if reading his mind, as he had for you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.
“Hope our baby has your eyes,” you murmured to him.
It shouldn’t have had such a strong effect—but of course, it did. Joel pictured the small, sweet infant with irises that shone a bit like his, and his stomach caved in.
Tonight, tomorrow, or ten months down the line, he was getting you pregnant. He’d clear his whole schedule for it
“That right?” And now he couldn’t stop the smile as he spoke, leaning even further in, “What about their nose?”
He kissed the tip of yours.
“Hope they get this.”
He kissed either one of your cheeks.
“These too.”
You had to fight back a laugh while his scruff tickled skin. Two deep strokes away from the brink of release and he still somehow always stayed in tune with your needs.
The threat of your peak was perilously near. Joel’s spend and your slick, tender glaze made a chorus of sounds at each thrust, and the deeper he went, the bigger it swelled. Your smiles couldn’t stay for much longer when the feeling inside you both was being amplified like that. Sensing this, Joel took hold of your face and slipped his touch to cup your chin. He made you tilt your head up to him, as if to ask again, ‘Are you sure?’ and when you nodded, his lips twitched again. A fleeting hint of a grin, like he couldn’t be more eager to finish now if he tried.
Holding your face, cock swollen and throbbing and desperate between your walls, he felt a familiar twitch.
There it is.
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wonderthor · 5 months ago
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your neighbor sukuna who lives in one of the apartments upstairs may be a rough and dangerous man, but he’s funny and nice to you, so you become friends anyway. you even develop a little crush on him, and when he calls you little pet names like sweetheart and doll, you start to think he might like you too. one night you decide to go out for drinks, and as he drinks more he lets out more about his past and you learn he is a little more dangerous than you thought. he talks about how he broke into people’s houses at night all the time to steal their things and when he finally did get caught and locked up, he had probably broke into over 200 people’s houses by then.
“that’s crazy, but you wouldn’t get that lucky with me though”
he sets his beer down, raising his eyebrow at you in question.
“what do you mean?”
“i mean that im a very light sleeper, always have been. and there’s no way you couldn’t break into my apartment without me knowing it.”
he picks his beer back up and takes a swig before looking back at you with a smirk.
“you sure about that?”
you confidentially smirk back at him.
“oh absolutely. i get woken up if the wind blows a little too hard against the window. i even woke up that one time i had a mouse in my apartment and i could hear it scurrying across the floor. i would definitely hear you open my door and walk around.”
sukuna taps his fingers against the bar counter with his head in his hands and his eyes still on you, thinking.
“how about we make a bet.”
“a bet? on what?”
“if i can get into your locked apartment and into your bedroom without waking you up, i win. if i do, you win.”
“and what do i get when i win?”
sukuna chuckles at that, almost like a villain’s laugh.
“i wouldn’t worry too much about that.”
you roll your eyes at him.
“oh please, you sound way to confident in your impossible chance at winning.”
he laughs at you again.
“i am. there’s a reason i was able to break in so many people’s houses while they were still in there without getting caught. it’s kind of my specialty.”
you take another sip of your drink and lean back.
“your specialty, huh? and you still haven’t mentioned what we get if we win.”
“what do you want?”
his tone caught you off guard for a second, getting deeper and more serious without you expecting it.
“u-um, i don’t know. you can pick.”
he smiles at you again, a devious smile this time as he leans in closer to you.
“if i win, i get to do whatever i want to you. if you win, you get to do whatever you want to me.”
time stops for a minute and you don’t realize that you’re just staring at him until after several seconds.
“what do you m-mean by that?”
he leans back to hold his beer and his playful demeanor is back.
“well according to you, you won’t have to worry about that, right?”
a couple of days went by and you were still on edge. you mentally slept with your eyes open and even kept your bedroom door cracked, just in case you really couldn’t hear him come in. even though you knew it was just a bet and a silly little game, you couldn’t stop your heart from pounding against your chest. maybe because you still didn’t really know what he said meant. and there was also the eerie feeling that you were essentially waiting for him to break into your apartment, like a real robber. like the robber he used to be. and even though you knew he wasn’t dangerous to you and wouldn’t hurt you, you were still admittedly a little scared. you truly didn’t know what to expect.
it had been a couple of weeks now and you were sure sukuna was fucking with you. whenever you saw him in passing, he was his normal playful and flirty self, and mentioning nothing of the bet. you were starting to think he was kidding, just making that up to scare you and mess with you. or you also thought he could have just forgotten, since he was drinking a little and couldn’t have forgotten all about it.
but little did you know that you were playing right into his hands. he was waiting on you to lose your edge, to slowly get comfortable enough again to slip into deep and dream-filled sleeps. that’s why you didn’t expect it, why you didn’t expect to lose.
when you woke up one night, you felt your heart fall out of your body and your eyes almost jump from their sockets. there he was, in your apartment, in your bedroom, on your bed, leaning over you on his hands and knees. when he saw that you were awake and too stunned to speak, he smirked and leaned in closer to you until his face was just inches from yours.
“guess i win, sweetheart.”
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akimiiyo · 6 months ago
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-> JEALOUSY
⌗synopsis : genshin men when they’re jealous.
⌗characters : diluc, kaeya, albedo, zhongli, childe, baizhu, xiao, thoma, ayato, heizou, wanderer, kazuha, tighnari, cyno, alhaitham, kaveh, neuvillette, lyney, dainsleif, dottore, pantalone, capitano, pierro.
⌗cw : gn!reader, not proofread, lowercase intended, probably ooc.
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he’s a gentleman, he doesn’t get jealous often because he knows for a fact that he has nothing to worry about. you’ve never done anything that made him feel as if he had to watch out and he’s certain that you never will. although he can still get annoyed at the sight of another man flirting with you. it was his insisting even after you turned him down that angered him the most. nonetheless, he doesn’t let such people interfere with his composure. he’ll act mature and take you somewhere else once he sees that the man has no intentions of leaving you alone. as soon as you both get a moment alone together, however, he won’t hesitate to plant a few more kisses than usual. just in case, y’know?
diluc, zhongli, alhaitham, neuvillette, dainsleif, capitano.
he won’t admit it, but he gets jealous often. he doesn’t want to confront you about it because he believes it’s embarrassing and silly to feel that way. i mean, you’re his and he’s yours. you love him so much, there’s no need to worry, right? yet, he still can’t help but fume at the sight of strangers complimenting you. he can’t blame them, but he still would rather for people to be blind if that meant that they’d leave you alone. he’s aware of how unfair that would be, so he just stays quiet, either sulking or glaring at those people as you offer them a kind smile until you’re both alone where he’ll be needing your utmost attention.
xiao, albedo, thoma, kazuha, kaveh, baizhu.
he’s jealous and he’ll show it. hit on his partner? right in front of him? absolutely not. he might try to keep his calm at first, but as time passes and this scumbag is still around, he won’t hold back. not to worry, he won’t do anything extreme (unless he’s forced to do so), he just wants to make things clear to this guy. he’ll keep it simple at first, simply making subtle comments until he actually starts going straight to the point. after a while, he’ll take your arm and walk away with you, now being angrier than before. the way that guy was talking to him, but especially you, has him furious. be prepared to listen to his angry rant about that random dude. be also prepared to shut him up, you know how.
kaeya, childe, heizou, tighnari, cyno, wanderer, lyney.
this guy almost sees you as his property, his jealousy is unmatched. he won’t take anything lightly. if you’re trying to make advantages on his partner, then you’re asking for it. simple as that! he won’t let anyone think they might have a chance with you because you’re destined to be with him and only him. so obviously, he must make it clear to everybody to not even try. if someone is bold enough though, he’ll just stand beside you, piercing through this man’s soul with his icy gaze. thankfully, nothing ever escalated from that. not that he wouldn’t be capable of doing that, these poor souls simply knew better than to get against someone of that status and reputation.
ayato, dottore, pantalone, pierro.
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⌗a/n : im not really proud of this, i might edit it once i have time. it’s 4am and i was supposed to be studying, but i ended up writing this instead. talk about procrastination 😪 let me know if i made any mistakes pls
want to read more? take a look at my masterlist!
©2024 akimiiyo. do not repost, translate, plagiarise, or modify in any way, shape or form.
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i-am-hungry-24-7 · 8 months ago
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Simon taking care of you when you accidentally injured yourself. Just fluff cuz I need fluff :D .
cw: pet names (princess, love etc.)
“Simon, I’m home!”
You opened the front door, only to see Simon sitting on the couch. Hearing your voice, he raised his head from the book he was infatuated with these days, and a low hum left him as a welcome.
“I’ll go shower first, the weather’s hot as hell, and I’m stink.”
You tossed the key onto the plate, nonchalantly passed your lover, but Simon could sense the difference in your movements.
“Stop.”
He stood up from the couch, and came straight towards you.
Oh no, you’re so fucked up.
“Hey, Si! I’m dirty! put me down!”
Simon ignored your yelling, scooping you up and over his shoulder.
“Don’t move.”
He demanded, and you swallowed hard when he grabbed your left ankle, and lifted the trouser legs.
“You’re hiding this from me?” His coffee-like brown eyes narrowed in disapproval, throwing you daggers while all you could do was let out a sigh.
“Sorry, Simon. Don’t want to concern you.”
Crooking his eyebrow, Simon darted his eyes back to observe the wound on your left calf. A long, deep cut went across half of your flesh, blood just managed to stop dripping, and fortunately didn’t stick your injury to the clothes.
“Where do you get this?”
“The parking lot of the market. Didn’t see a rock and stumble over it, and the pin sticking out of a wall dug into my leg when I tried to steady myself.” You shrugged.
You knew he was worried and hated to see you get hurt, that’s why you try to sneak to the bathroom and deal with it yourself. Simon’s eyes softened when he learned how you get yourself injured, but you had a feeling that he wouldn’t allow you to do things alone for at least a week.
“let’s go shower.” He picked you up swiftly as if you weighed nothing, and you just melted into his touch.
“You gonna help me?” Even though you knew the answer, you still asked when he strode to the bathroom.
“You think there’s other options?”
“... No.”
“Good Girl.” planting a kiss on your forehead, he kicked open the door.
“Close your eyes, don’t want to sting them, love.”
Your satisfied grumble when his hands attentively scratched your head made Simon chuckle. He put you in the warm bathtub, and the little chair looked comical under his bulky stature, but you didn’t laugh at him this time, instead focusing on his hands.
His hands, working magically through your hair, carefully not to tug your hair with too much strength. The hands that always protect you, the hands that are littered with scars, soaked with blood, but massage your shoulders when you are tired, shuffle your hair when you playfully argue with him, place on your belly when he hugs you from behind and whispered his affection to you.
He reserved all his tenderness to you, and you wondered why you were lucky enough to have this man as yours.
“Told you to close your eyes, love.”
You smiled when Simon finally discovered you had been staring at him from the start.
“Am I not allowed to watch my beautiful husband?”
“Don’t complain when the sud run into those pretty eyes then.” He huffed out a laugh.
When it came to you, he just couldn’t do anything but surrender to your adorable cheekiness. He thought when he couldn’t help but give your cheek a peck.
You sat on the edge of your bed now. Simon had dry your hair, and made you put on your underwear and his black shirt.
He was kneeling in front of you now, picking through the gauze and disinfectant. He seemed to find all the things he needed. Placing them aside, he took your ankle in his hand again.
“It’ll hurt a bit.”
He traced circles on your thigh to soothe the pain when he sprayed the antiseptic on your wound and waited for it to dry.
“You’re doing well, love. We’re almost finished.”
He cooed when he saw you blinked away a tear hanging on the corner of your eye.
Nodding, you watched him cover the wound with gauze and secure it.
“Thank you, Si.”
You chanted softly when his thumb caressed on the tape. Simon didn’t let go of your ankle when you thanked him, but landed a kiss beside the gauze.
“A spell for faster healing” The childish glints in his eyes were obvious when he lifted his head to meet your eyes.
“Don’t know you’re such a romantic person, baby.” You poke his cheek with a laugh.
“Guess there’s more of me yet for you to figure out.
He threw the bottles back into the medkit, and finally stood up after kneeling for ten minutes.
“Anything you want now, princess?”
“cuddle with me, Simon. The wound hurts.”
“Who’s the one trying to hide it thirty minutes ago?”
Lying on your back on the bed, his blonde hair shined under the light, but not brighter than the languid smirk he wore on his lips.
“Are you saying you don’t want to cuddle with me now?”
“Are there other options?”
“of course not, handsome.” You worm yourself into the comforter, and beckoned him to join you.
Slump down on the bed, he wiggled himself into his usual cuddling posture, arms snaked around your waist, and covered your belly with his palm.
“Anything for you, love.” You felt he kissed the shell of your ear when your eyes closed under the coziness.
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readwritealldayallnight · 16 days ago
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im on my knees begging for jealous Simon headcanons 🧎🏻‍♀️
The thing about Simon is, he really has no reason to get jealous when it comes to you, and he knows it
He knows there isn’t anyone else who could make you smile so much your cheeks hurt, no one else who could make you laugh until you claim you’re going to pee your pants, no one else who could make you feel as good as he does, in oh so many ways, because you tell him so
You tell him that those same feelings of being loved, understood, appreciated, and wanted, those very feelings that you make him feel each and every day, he gives them back to you a thousand times over
He knows when you look in his eyes and tell him that you love him, that there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he is the only one for you, and nothing or anyone could ever change that
You’re as smitten with him as he is with you
Still though, Simon does have eyes
And while the logical part of his brain is telling him that he’s got no reason to be gritting his teeth and clenching his fists underneath the table, he can’t help but grow more and more frustrated with the way Soap and Gaz continue to flirt shamelessly with you
To be fair, you had warned him that keeping your relationship a complete secret from everyone would likely result is moments where Simon would have to watch you get hit on, and simply have to grin and bear it
That didn’t mean it was any easier, watching his only best mates try and work their charm on you, all while he sits at the same table and watches you roll your eyes at their advances
“Aw, come on love, just one chance, s’all I ask for!” The handsome, young sergeant practically whines to you, cheeky grin plastered across his features as he tries in vain to convince you to let him take you out some time
“Pfft, ye’d be nothin’ but a waste o’ her time, Garrick. We wouldn’t even ‘ave to to leave base for me to show ye a good time, bonnie.” The Scotsman winks at you, pointedly ignoring the way Gaz elbows him in the ribs at his comment
Throughout the entire exchange, Ghost’s gaze has never left your face, watching every time you scoff and roll your eyes at the men’s antics, reminding himself that you’re his, and he is yours, and the two sergeants are nothing more than pains in both of your asses
Finished with your pitiful meal from the dining hall, you stand from the table with your tray gathered in your hands, flipping your hair over one shoulder as you look towards the men trying to win your affection
“Once again, gentleman,” you say to them, knowing that they’re listening to your every word and watching your every move. “I don’t fraternize with colleagues. At least not the Sergeants.”
The two men groan in feeble protest at the mention of their ranks, having heard this reasoning from you before
“Ach, what if I get myself demoted, lass? I ken I could do that, easy!” Soap teases you, only kind of joking
“Mmm, don’t think that’ll work.” You reply, beginning to slowly walk away from the group, but not before glancing over you shoulder to lock eyes with Ghost and add, “You might have to become a Lieutenant. Those are more my type.”
The two Sergeants are staring after you, slightly gobsmacked, while their Lieutenant hides an overly smug and satisfied grin beneath his mask, shielding the pride that spread through him at your words
“Shite, sounds like you might ‘ave a chance, LT.” Soap laughs, smacking Ghost across the shoulder in a playful gesture, thinking that the larger man would never actually pursue you, let alone sleep in your bed almost every night
It’s a few weeks later when you and the rest of the 141 are all out for drinks at a nearby pub however, when Simon finds his instincts growing stronger than his insecurities
Because that’s just it isn’t it? He’s not feeling insecure when he sees you walk towards the bar by yourself to order a new drink, at least a dozen pairs of eyes watching you weave through the crowd in hopes of making a move on you
He’s not feeling insecure when he watches some tipsy idiot try and pretend he’s drunker than he really he is when he ‘accidentally’ bumps into you, apparently feeling the need to put his hands on you as he apologizes
He’s not feeling insecure when he watches you shove the guy off, reading your lips he knows so well as you tell the guy you’re not interested, nor is he insecure when he knows the idiot won’t give up that easily, likely asking if you’re here alone before you point over to where the 141 have overtaken a booth in the back
No, he certainly isn’t feeling insecure when he sees that the man never bothers glancing back to the table, still trying to land a hand on your body somewhere, when Simon’s instincts take over, rising from his seat without a word to the men who glance his way and ask where he’s going suddenly
He’s acting on pure instinct as he stalks over to you, the crowd parting for his large frame to move by without hesitation, locking eyes with you just as he lands a massive skull gloved hand on the tosser’s shoulder, wringing him around to face him
Your would be admirer isn’t feeling so confident now when he’s staring up at a 6’4” wall of muscle donned in all black apart from the white markings of his skull balaclava
If he were a more jealous man, Simon might take more time to admire the way you can practically hear this idiot gulp over the loud sounds of the music, the way his eyes bulge out of his head and how he looks nearly ready to piss himself on the spot
But your man knows who he is to you, and so instead he shoves the geezer away, turning to face you as one hand lifts up the bottom of his balaclava, just far enough to swoop down and meet your lips in a passionate tangle of tongue and teeth, tasting the alcohol on each other’s breath and the desire in your systems, a kiss that says to everyone else watching, including the bewildered Captain and Sergeants gawking from across the room, that you are his and his alone
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tender-rosiey · 2 months ago
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Hii!! I would like to request a Sukuna x Reader, bcs I just love how you write him:))
The Reader gets jealous/upset because Sukuna gets Concubines, with a happy ending though please!
Hope you have a great day!!:))
to provoke — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
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a/n: glad you like him! <3
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you had always known that being with sukuna meant navigating through a maze of power plays and manipulation. his affection—if it could be called that—was far from simple.
but nothing had quite prepared you for this.
the concubines had arrived without warning, and with them, an unsettling shift in the atmosphere.
it wasn’t just their presence—it was the way they paraded through the palace, casting knowing glances in your direction, their soft laughter echoing behind closed doors.
at first, you’d ignored it, pretending their arrival hadn’t bothered you. after all, sukuna did what he wanted—always had. you were no stranger to his need to push limits, to test you.
but the whispers, the sly smiles, the way they flaunted themselves in his presence—it wore on you. each teasing glance felt like a needle, pricking at the thin veil of composure you were desperately trying to maintain.
one night, as you passed a group of them in the corridor, one of the concubines stepped forward, her lips curving into a smirk.
“he’s quite fond of us, you know,” she murmured, her tone almost sweet, but dripping with venom. “you must feel so… left out.”
her words struck you. it is one thing for sukuna to do something, but for them to think that they can even talk to you?
it seemed the bitch forgot who her queen is.
her impudence was the reason why her head was separated from her body and laid on the ground. you let out a breath, as the rest of the concubines fled the scene.
you wiped the blood of your face, eyes boring into the woman’s lifeless eyes. if sukuna wanted his concubines, fine. you wouldn’t fight for his attention. you wouldn’t play his games.
days passed. the concubines roamed the halls freely, their shrill laughter occasionally filtering through the walls as they entertained him. you found solace in avoiding them all—avoiding him
perhaps, you thought bitterly, if you stayed out of sight long enough, he'd forget you altogether. but sukuna, being who he was, had no intention of letting that happen.
“you’ve been quiet,” his voice cuts through the air one evening, startling you from your thoughts.
he stands in the doorway of your chambers, his presence filling the room with that suffocating air of dominance that never fails to make your skin prickle.
“I have nothing to say,” you reply, not bothering to look up from where you sit. your voice is even, but you know he can hear the tension lying just beneath the surface.
“oh?” he steps closer, the smirk in his voice unmistakable. “and here I thought you might have something to say about the new additions to my palace.”
your hands tighten in your lap, but you force yourself to remain calm. “they’re none of my concern, husband.”
sukuna’s laugh is low, mocking. “really? you’re not even a little bit jealous?”
you clench your jaw, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. this is exactly what he wants—he brought them here to provoke you, to see how far he can push before you break.
but you won’t break. not this time.
“they’re beautiful, aren’t they?” sukuna continues, his voice a lazy drawl as he leans against the wall, watching you closely. “so eager to please. so quick to obey.”
your stomach twists, but you remain silent.
“and yet…” he trails off, his gaze sharpening. “you’ve been avoiding me, wife.”
“I’ve had no reason to be around,” you mutter, finally meeting his gaze, the weight of his scrutiny pressing down on you. you scowl. “and my pride will not allow me to be around a man who does not respect me.”
sukuna’s expression darkens, the amusement slipping slightly as he straightens. “is that what you think?”
you stare at him, defiant, but he only smirks again, his eyes glinting with something more dangerous now. without another word, he turns, motioning for you to follow.
confused, but unwilling to let him have the upper hand, you rise and trail after him, your steps hesitant. sukuna leads you through the palace, deeper into the dimly lit halls until you reach a secluded chamber.
he pushes the doors open with a casual flick of his wrist, revealing what lies inside.
you freeze, breath catching in your throat.
the concubines—every last one of them—lie lifeless on the floor, their bodies unnervingly still. blood pools beneath them, staining the once pristine floor. the air is thick with the scent of death.
sukuna steps inside, his voice disturbingly casual. “they served their purpose.”
you can’t speak. your mind reels, torn between shock and something else—something dark and twisted that tells you this is sukuna’s way of proving something to you. it’s not that you’re unused to carnage.
hell, you even killed one yourself.
but their bodies are so deformed beyond comprehension, they no longer look like humans.
“they were never meant to last,” he says, glancing at you with a bored expression, as if the carnage before him is nothing more than a trivial inconvenience. “did you really think they meant anything?”
the words hang in the air, heavy and suffocating.
“you killed them?” you whisper, your voice barely audible.
sukuna’s smirk widens, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “of course. they were disposable.”
a twisted part of you wants to feel relief—relief that they’re gone, that the torment is over. but another part of you feels sickened by the sight, by the casual cruelty of it all.
“you’re the only one deemed my queen,” sukuna says, stepping closer until he’s looming over you, his hand gripping your chin with just enough force to make you wince. “remember that.”
his words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and something else pooling in your stomach. sukuna is many things—cruel, violent, unyielding.
but in his own twisted way, this is his version of loyalty. his way of showing you that no matter how many games he plays, you’re the only one who truly matters.
you swallow hard, meeting his gaze. “and what if I leave?”
sukuna’s grin widens, his eyes narrowing with dark amusement. “you won’t.”
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chobunz · 18 days ago
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── homie hoppin’ ( lhs, pjs, sjy, psh ) ּ 𓂅⋆ 📙
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๑ Heeseung never wanted to believe the rumors about you around campus, to him you could never do wrong and he sees you as nothing less than an angel. But when his friends begin telling him about their nightly escapades with some “mystery girl” that sounds awfully familiar, he grows more suspicious of your true intentions you’ve been hiding all along.
pair: hyung line ㅊ f!reader, college au | warnings: pwp, smut, angst (kinda ??), hook-up culture, yn is the biggest fuckgirl omg (but she’s sooo cuntyy), humour, slut-shaming (not from the boys), daddy kink, oral (m + f. rec), mentions of running a train but it doesn’t happen lol, lots of s.x flashbacks, yn is so unbothered by everything 😴, unprotected s.x (yikes !!!) | teaser wc: 857
thanks to @leeechin & @pshbites for enabling this idea LOL, couldn’t have done it without them frfr. also here’s a silly little preview of what’s to come (it gets real MESSY in this sfdsfsd)
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
heeseung was never really the type to ever engage in gossip or drama going around campus. he’d rather simply mind his business and keep it moving, it was useless to entertain it anyway— most of the rumors held zero truth or any proof to back them up. what does seem to grab his attention however, is your name being constantly brought up in almost everyone’s mouths. you were the talk of the whole school and it wasn’t anything good that was being said about the girl he’s been sleeping around with on and off for the past few months or so.
“oh you know about y/n? isn’t she the one who’s always bouncing from one friend group to the next ? i wouldn’t trust her around my man even for a second..”
“didn’t she let leehan hit it at that party last night ? that girl needs to be stopped, she’s always messing around with different guys..”
“wasn’t she just with eunseok last week ? he was telling me all about how him and sungchan took turns on her.”
he couldn’t believe half the stuff that was being said about you. not only was it just plain disrespectful, but it was also disgusting how some people could spew such fabricated nonsense as if you weren’t a real human being with feelings. heeseung knew you two weren’t exclusive but you’ve been seeing each other more frequently, which made him think he might have a chance to make things official. at least he thought so, until he saw you talking with one of his close friends, jaeyun in the library. you both were way too close for comfort and the way you were giving him those same bedroom eyes that you’d always flash at heeseung, made his whole body fill up with an unimaginable amount of rage.
you were quite popular and well known around campus, your charming persona and pretty face was the perfect combo to get anyone to fall head over heels for you. everywhere you went you’d turn heads, all the boys would be breaking their necks just to get a glimpse of you. the tiny skirts you’d always wear had their eyes practically bulging out of their sockets, which only made the other girls seethe in utter jealousy. the way you could command an entire room without even trying was a superpower in itself, you didn’t need to put in the extra work to get all the attention on you because everyone gave it to you automatically.
it wasn’t until heeseung began hearing more about his friend’s sex lives that he’d grow more suspicious of what’s really going on. he usually zones out and doesn’t really listen much whenever they talked about it, but since the movie they were watching wasn’t all that interesting, he began shifting his attention to his friends. jaeyun and jongseong were always bragging about how much pussy they’d get but they seemed to hyperfocus on one particular girl that seems to get brought up a lot in their conversations. jaeyun would say how she gave him the ‘most life changing head’ he’s ever received, meanwhile jongseong was describing how some girl he fucked a few days ago rode his dick like a grade A pornstar.
heeseung wasn’t adding much of his input into the conversation, and neither was sunghoon as he tends to keep that part of his life more private. but, what made him suddenly wanna jump up in his seat was when jaeyun was telling them how hot the girl looked when he fucked her from behind, she had a back tattoo and he thought that was the sexiest shit ever. he never specified exactly what the tattoo was, but he remembers that you also had one too. maybe he’s just reading too much into it ? could it really be you they were talking about ? nah.. there’s no way. he’s sure there’s plenty other women with back tattoos walking around campus, it simply could be an eerie coincidence. he knows he isn’t the only one that you’re sleeping with, but to mess around with his friends would be a new low for him. he wouldn’t know what he’d do if he were to find out that happened..
his worries would only worsen when he catches sunghoon smiling and faintly giggling at his phone about something, to which jongseong asks him what’s so funny. sunghoon simply shrugs it off and says it’s nothing, quickly locking his phone before he lifts up from the couch to announce that he’s going back to his dorm. they all exchange their goodbyes and wish him a safe walk back to his place. but when he left, he was walking in the direction completely opposite of his dorm, he was heading the exact same way it took to get to your building instead. now he’s really starting to overthink at this point. there’s absolutely no way you’re actually fucking all of his friends and he doesn’t have a single clue about it. heeseung may be quite oblivious at times but he isn’t that stupid. he’s probably overreacting. again, could just be a very weird coincidence… right ?
just leave a comment if you wanna be added to the taglist ᕙ(⇀‸↼‶)ᕗ
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evie-sturns · 2 months ago
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make up - Chris Sturniolo
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summary: you and your boyfriend chris have a massive argument, and even after he apologises you still dont forgive him. he makes it up to you a totally different way.
contains: smut, makeup sex, angst, arguing, yelling, fluff, swearing.
-------------------------------------------------------------
9:38pm
chris walks into the warm kitchen, i lean against the counter with a small smile.
"hi chris!" i speak softly, i walk up to him and wrap my arms around him.
he pats me once on the back before shrugging me off with a small incoherent mumble. "chris-? whats wrong with you?" i ask calmly, cocking my head to the side.
he scoffs, "nothings 'wrong with me', just not in the mood for it.", his voice is hoarse and he sounds pissed.
"not in the mood for what-?" i ask, staring up at him as he continues to look down at his phone, the light of the screen illuminating his features.
"not in the mood for you," he snaps back almost instantly before turning around and walking into the dining room.
my eyebrows knit together as i try to stay calm.
"what do you mean? what did i even do?" i ask, following him into the dining room.
he sits down at one of the chairs with a huff, his eyes closed as if hes trying to block me out.
"chris-" i start but he instantly cuts me off,
"every single minute you wanna be grabbing on me and shit, every. single. minute." he replies quickly,
"i dont understand why youre so obsessed with me or something? like god can i get any time alone?" he spits,
i let out an audible gasp,
"what- why is your ego so big that you automatically assume i'm 'obsessed' with you?" i laugh,
"you're my boyfriend of course i want to touch you?" i follow up, a frown clear on my face.
"you know you can be so damn clingy, pisses me off." chris raises his voice as he stares up at me from the dining chair.
i stare down at him, my eyebrows knit together as i try to figure out how to calm this situation down.
but i can’t, he’s pissed me off now and i’m known for talking back quite often…
“not my fault your a moody grown ass man, but you never fail to act like a child.” i told my arms,
“god, listen to yourself, just a whole load of yap yap yap.” chris mumbles as he makes a mouth with his hands.
he rolls his eyes,
“why are you acting like this?” i raise my voice, folding my arms over my chest with a hurt expression.
“i’m not acting like anything! you genuinely annoy me so much and i’m not sure how much longer i can keep putting up with your bullshit.” he scoots his chair back, it makes a loud screech on the wooden floor as he stands up to meet my gaze.
“well what then- you’re gonna break up with me cause you’re in a sensitive fuckin mood?” i yell back,
“you’re making it hard not to.” he laughs bitterly,
“chris- you get like this too often! i mean all you do is complain and bitch-?”
he cuts me off, “all i do is complain? you can’t go a full hour without whining to me, i hate that about you, seriously hate it.”
i throw my hands in the air, he takes a firm grip of my wrist and clutches it tight.
“let me go you asshole!” i yell, tugging my arm.
he grabs my chin, forcing me to look up at him.
i stare up into his piercing blue eyes as he speaks.
“you are such a bitch, such a fucking bitch.” he speaks codly, a hint of honesty behind his words.
i finally get my wrist free with a loud huff,
“where are you off to now? ‘gonna go have another cry in the bedroom? seems like the only thing you do.” chris grumbles,
“fuck- i hate you!” i scream, storming off down the hallway into my room.
“i bet you do” he scoffs,
i slam the door of my room, i walk over to the bed and flop down on it.
-
i promised myself i wouldn’t cry, i don’t want chris thinking i’m a crybaby.
but now i’ve been alone for 20 minutes, the emotions are finally building up as i replay the argument over and over in my head.
i burst into a sob, instantly trying to wipe the tears away, but it’s no use, they spill down my cheeks quicker than i can control.
i bury my face in my hands as i let out wracked sobs,
i grab chris and i’s shared stuffed animal, which we collectively got for our 6 month anniversary.
i let out shaky breathes as i try to calm myself down
my thoughts get interrupted by two knocks at the bedroom door,
it follows by chris walking in with a small smile, all of his anger from earlier gone.
“hey..” he whispers, a nervous expression on his face
i ignore him, keeping my eyes fixed on my lap.
“can we have a little chat- please?” chris asks softly,
i shake my head, maybe i’m being somewhat immature, but i don’t care.
“i just wanna say i’m sorry, i love you a lot and i wasn’t thinking straight- at all.” he whispers, staring at me.
he sits on the bed infront of me,
“i don’t like fighting with you, and i’m sorry that i managed to start an argument it wasn’t your fault.” he speaks, his hand resting on my knee,
“i’m sorry baby.” he sighs,
i give him total radio silence, my mouth presses in a thin line.
“can i have an answer please?” he asks, rubbing his thumb over my knee softly.
i shake my head with a small pout,
“oh- please don’t give me that pout, i hate seeing you so upset.” he sighs,
“i don’t forgive you.” i mumble, i fidget with my nails as i stare down at my hands.
“okay, do you want more time alone?” he asks,
i shake my head with a small “no.”
“would you like me to stay here with you?” he follows up,
i shrug,
“what can i do to prove i’m sorry?” chris asks, scooting up next to me on the bed and resting his back against the headboard.
i shrug again,
chris reaches out and glides his fingers over the waistband of my sweatpants, keeping his eyes locked on my face.
he slowly dips his hand under my waistband, i feel his cool fingertips grace over the lace of the panties.
i nod slightly, a signal for him to keep going.
“can i make you feel really good please?” chris asks, his voice is slightly more hoarse now.
i nod, “fine..”
i try to sound as uninterested as possible, just as a little reminder i’m still mad at him.
chris grabs me under my arms and lifts me onto his lap,
i straddle him, my legs on either side of his thighs.
he reaches for the hem of my shirt, i nod.
“and.. up!” he gently lifts my shirt off over my head,
he reaches round and unclasps my bra, letting it fall onto his chest
“so so beautiful ‘f me.” he sighs, his hands roam over the curve of my waist.
i stay seated happily on chris’s lap, looking into his eyes as he sits up against the headboard.
he reaches round for my sweatpants, gently tugging them down my legs and off my ankles, leaving me in just my baby pink pair of panties. a little bow decorating the top.
my clothed cunt presses against his sweatpants,
his eyes rake over my body with a small groan,
i whine, reaching for the hem of my panties.
“i’m sorry doll, i don’t mean to tease ‘ya.” he whispers, quickly discarding my panties and shoving them in his pocket
i sit completely bare ontop of him, he’s fully clothed still just admiring me.
he gently rolls me off of him onto my back, i lay spread out across the mattress.
he stands up off the bed and gently tugs me to the edge of the bed, my legs dangling off the end of the bed.
he reaches for his belt buckle, which makes a loud clinking noise as he lets it drop to the floor.
chris tugs off his shirt, which is slightly cropped at the bottom.
finally he reaches for the button of his jeans, letting it drop to the floor and pool around his ankles.
he stands in his boxers, his happy trail peeks out the top of his waistband.
chris pulls me even closer to the edge of the bed,
he kneels down on the floor infront of me, his head inches away from where i need him most.
my breathing picks up as i feel his hair graze the inside of my thighs, my clit practically throbbing now with how bad i need him.
“i- chris- please you- you said you wouldn’t tease me-“ i whimper, shifting my hips to bring them closer to chris.
he chuckles softly, his hands wrap around my thighs and position them over his shoulders.
he tugs me close to him, his nose brushing against my clit.
i feel him finally place his tongue onto my entrance, tingles shoot straight through my body.
he licks a stripe from my hole up to my clit, savouring the flavour as he slowly presses his lips to my clit.
he hums against my clit as he sucks on it lightly, jolts of pleasure rushing through me.
chris has never been known for being gentle or slow, he usually goes so rough to the point of me screaming out his name, so this is definitely a change.
he speeds up, i clench around nothing as i get closer and closer.
my hands tangle into his hair, tugging softly at the silky strands.
“oh- oh chris-!” i moan out, he gently thrusts his fingers in and out of me, my walls stretching around his longer fingers.
that’s enough to tip me over the edge, i clench around his fingers.
i let out a breathless moan as i release, chris gently unlatches his mouth off of me with a grin, my juices covering his chin.
he wipes his chin on the back of his hands,
“feeling a bit better sweetie?” he asks, his lips glossy.
i nod, laying my arm messily across my face.
“tell me what you want now.” he whispers, his hands travel up the sides of my torso as he gently removes my arm from my face.
“you a bit sensitive? do you wanna wait a minute?” he asks softly,
i shake my head, “just want-.. you.”
“okay baby.” he whispers, standing between my legs.
“hold my hand if you need to.” chris says, his blue eyes fixed on mine.
i nod, reaching up and gripping his hand.
“okay- ‘s gonna hurt a little bit but you’ll get used to it like always.”
he gently pushes inside of me, his tip stretching me out already.
i squeeze his hand tight before letting out a pathetic moan.
he pushes deeper inside of me, i let out small whimpers.
“i know, i know.” he whispers, his free hand coming up and resting on the side of my face.
he grabs a pillow and positions it under my back,
“feel a little better?” chris asks as his cock sits fully inside of me.
i nod, finally cracking a small smile.
chris leans down, his arms caging around me as his face hovers inches from mine.
he slowly starts to thrust, keeping his eyes locked on mine as his chain dangles in my face.
“oh- fuck- you’re so tight.” he mutters, positioning himself so he repeatedly hits my g-spot.
“chris-“ i moan, gripping his bicep.
chris quickens his pace just so slightly, his tip repeatedly brushed against that sweet spot.
“i’m so sorry baby- fuck..” he groans,
“didn-didn’t mean to upset you- earlier-“ he moans out as his thrusts keep their steady rythm.
“you- you cum whenever you want to baby, don’t gotta ask me for permission.” he whispers,
i nod frantically,
“fuck- oh my gosh!” i arch my back off the bed,
“feels so full chris-“ i whimper, he reaches a hand down and presses on my lower stomach,
“you feel me right there?” he asks, gently massaging my stomach.
i nod, a choked moan escaping my lips.
“such a pretty girl,” he groans,
i whine, opening my mouth wide.
“yeah?- ‘ya want my fingers?” he asks,
i nod frantically, needing something to muffle my noises.
he gently presses two fingers in my mouth, letting them rest on my tongue.
“goood girl, good girl.” he rambles, keeping his fingers resting on my tongue.
“oh- ‘m so- ‘m so close-“ i say through a muffled moan,
my gummy walls clench around him, feeling the knot in my stomach get closer to snapping.
and finally,
it does.
i let out a loud whine against his fingers as i finish, clenching around him so tight.
chris instantly lets go, burying his release deep inside of me.
he pulls his dick out of me with a loud pop, followed by his fingers.
he stands hunched over between my legs as he catches his breath. “god- god y/n.” he whispers,
his cum slowly drips out of me onto the bedsheets, which chris seems to pick up on,
he gets the two fingers which were just in my mouth and gently pushes his release back inside of me, “there we go, gonna take it all ‘f me.”
he finally collapses beside me, pulling me onto his chest.
i bury my head in his collarbone, wrapping my arms around him.
“do- do you finally forgive me?” chris asks with a small chuckle, still completely out of breath.
“i guess so.” i grin cheekily,
-
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chiscaralight · 2 months ago
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don't fuck your enemy!
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synopsis: you just so happened to end up drunk with your enemy in the club bathroom. what would be more fuck than punching him in the face? fucking him!
includes: nsfw! scara x reader public sex ish. slight degradation. unprotected bathroom sex, p in v sex, mentions of oral sex, reader is under the influence but its all consensual. slight car sex, little bit of regret. this feels new to me, but I absolutely loved writing it! based off a request that I will link here
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“scaraaa…”
“quit whining.”
you’re wiggling your hips to him, as he struggles to get his belt off.
“you’re obnoxious. is this how you treat everyone you say you hate? slut.”
“and you’re the one feeding into it. just shut up and-“
the moan you let out is drowned in the music. it’s not loud enough to draw attention, but if anyone else is in the bathroom, they’d definitely hear it. it’s not your fault you’re in this position, after a couple of rounds of shots, this stupid, sexy man wouldn’t stop staring at you in what he says is ‘disgust’. hard to believe when he wasted no time in following through with your advances, pressing you against the stall wall and crashing his lips onto yours.
but yes, you’re a slut for letting him push his cock past your lips, keeping your eyes trained on him as he groaned about how good that felt when you weren’t spewing bullshit, or you nuzzling your head into his hand as he tangles his fingers in your well-done hair.
but no, he’s not a fucking whore for dragging you off the ground and for bunching your short dress up at your hips. nor is he one for pressing his lips against your skin, marking up and down your neck as his fingers glide over your clothed hole before pulling your panties into the side.
you won’t let it get to you now though, because the mixture of the alcohol making your mind spin, with the way the heat from his fingers is dancing around your body, tracing obscure shapes into the fat of your hips before sliding up to cup your breasts is enough to keep any other words out of your mouth, save for his name.
it’s almost insane how good he is because he’s rocking just enough to hit you with enough force, but not enough to shake the plastic frame of the makeshift wall. your hands are finding his wrists, trying to ground yourself to something, anything while he fucks your senses away in the bathroom of some upscale nightclub, trying to ground himself from how good you feel. this has to be wrong on so many levels, fucking you, after everything you’ve said, he’s said, you’ve done, he’s done?
that seems to be the least of your worries now because he can see your eyes rolling back, tongue lolling out of your mouth as he slides a finger into the heat of your mouth. your reactions to his touch are quick, the way you jerk into his hand, or close your lips around his fingers like it was nothing. like it’s what you were made to do. his wet digits now slide back down towards your swollen clit, applying a certain pressure that has you crying out his name with that grating, gorgeous voice of yours. he doesn’t even have it in him to silence you, he’s twitching at the way it rolls off your tongue. fuck, if he knew you’d be this perfect, he would have cut the bullshit and bent you over long ago! but maybe it was more rewarding like this, fleeting memories of all the times he’s pumped his cock to the thought of your face moving through his mind, as your lewd expression brings him back to you.
he’s craning his head the slightest bit to catch your eye. when he does, you smile. and he could cum right then and there from the way your eyes crinkle at the corners through the flush of your cheeks. you mouth out a silent ‘kiss’, and he’s on you in an instant, tongue sliding against yours as the bitter taste of the alcohol finds its way toward him. but he doesn’t care about that. he’s more concerned about the way you’re starting to writhe and shake against him, becoming more and more unsettled with the lack of your own movement. so you do your best to stop him, pushing him off of you as you finally get to breathe. your words come out with a sweet giggle, finger pressing against his chest as your drunken state blurs your vision the slightest amount.
“wanna ride you, pretty boy.”
if anyone who didn’t know the two of you were to for some reason swing this door open now, they’d think the two of you were insatiable lovers who just couldn’t wait to make it home. to anyone that doesn’t know you, they’d probably have to wipe their eyes twice to pretend they weren’t seeing you bounce on scaramouche’s cock like this. he’s seated on the closed toilet lid, absolutely dazed as you ride him to bits. your nails are digging into his shoulders hard, giving you strong balance as you move with a determination even he can’t fathom. but you���ve been dreaming of this, finally getting him to shut up with that pussy or yours, it’s a shame you didn’t get to shove his face in it; but maybe it’s for the best. even in this mindset you know tomorrow is going to be full of headaches and a lot of unanswered questions, so why not enjoy the now? keep anything from getting too far. what exactly is too far you ask? you’re not sure either, because licking into each other's mouths while he fucks up into you would be seen as pretty far for some people.
and he breaks away first, lazy eyes searching yours as he mumbles about his coming orgasm. you’re smiling that stupid smile that makes his dick twitch again, and giving him a polite nod. his eyebrows furrow.
“inside? you sure?”
you’re rolling your eyes at the obscurity of it all. he can ‘discretely’ slide your expensive lace panties into his pocket, press you up against this gross wall, and even fuck you presumably drunk. but cumming inside you is weird.
“yes-yes! i’m sure. just-just hurry up,”
and he’s smacking his teeth at the tone of your voice, hand coming down strong on the swell of your ass while he starts to chase his orgasm. your breaths are shallow, deep with intent as you grind against him, brushing up close to him so you can release in tandem with him.
it works a little too well, because you’re spasming against him in a way that he’s never seen before. your orgasm, plus the feeling of his cum starting to paint your inside white hot with thick spurts is peeling away any reservations you had about this whole situation before, moans loud and cracking as you ride it out for the two of you. his head is hung back, adam’s apple bobbing only a slight bit as he comes to, the soft bite you give it making him snap his head back down before he pinches your thigh. you pout, but begin to get up nonetheless, because you’ve probably spent way too long in here already.
you're much more sober now, trying to ignore the daggers that scaramouche is glaring into your back as you adjust your outfit in the mirror.
"was the sex really that bad?"
the statement is supposed to sound snarky, but it comes out more desperate than anything. you clear your throat, focusing your attention on the paint on the floor instead, dreadfully anticipating how he will bite back this time. but he doesn't. instead, you're greeted with the plush of his lips against yours, hands finding a home on your hips omce again as you grip at his collar. you're moaning into his mouth once more, attempting to slide your tongue against his.
but he pulls away before you can, beelining for the exit door instead. your lips are in a hard pout. as you hear him mumble something about needing to go home. you also happen to catch the part where he more clearly states the exact parking space his car is in right now before letting the door swing shut.
you're alone with your thoughts now. your mind is much clearer, and you're visibly torn between doing the right thing, that is, going back to your friends and enjoying the party like you should've been, or going down and potentially making the same albeit lovely, very rewarding mistake twice. the way the 'fuck it' rolls off your tongue now is a secure answer to what you decide to do, quickly making your way towards where you hope your friends are before announcing that you'll be on your way.
it's been minutes, seven exactly, scaramouche is counting. he shouldn't be here, he should've left immediately he stuck the key in the ignition. but he's waiting rather impatiently, in hopes that you'd find your way down. he knows you're not stupid, he knows you would regret it, hell, he should be regretting it too. but that annoying little feeling in his heart won't let him pull out of the space just yet. and thank archons for that, because he can see the pattern of your dress outside his tinted window as you tap on the glass.
the silence once you get in is stupidly uncomfortable. the air is thick with tension, both of you avoiding each other's gazes as the impact of your previous actions weighs in the air. scaramouche takes the initiative to speak first.
"we should-"
"your windows are tinted. can you eat me out?"
he pinches the bridge of his nose.
"you're absolutely insufferable."
"l-less talking, please."
he'll roll his eyes, but dip his head back down between your legs all the same. you're sprawled out in his back seat, fingers tangled in his hair as his tongue assaults your folds. maybe the first kiss was a mistake, maybe him fucking you against the wall was a big mistake. but his fingers sliding into you now? curling just exactly where they should be? there's no mistake here.
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obxsummer · 21 days ago
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P4L // JJ Maybank
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pairing: jj maybank x reader
summary: aka the season 4 ending the audience and pogues deserved.
warnings: S4P2 SPOILERS
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--
Morocco was proving to be one hell of a challenge for all of you. Every corner had more of your friends pulling off to play defense or act as a distraction. Pope, Kiara, and Cleo had left in an attempt to hold off the mercenary crew, leaving you, JJ, and Rafe to finish the mission and find the crown.
With Rafe out on the option to climb, JJ had volunteered which left you all in the current situation. JJ was trying to pull himself up on the stone statue as wind and sand whipped at your faces. 
“Be careful!” You yelled up to him, hoping your voice wouldn’t get carried away before it reached him.
You’d been so heartbroken for JJ over the past few weeks - from losing Poguelandia, finding out Luke wasn’t his dad, all the shit with the gold and Enduro… you could really use a win. JJ deserved a win more than anything. 
“Shit, here they come,” Rafe spoke up as he caught sight of the mercenaries who were catching up. “Stay here! I’ll go down and buy us some time.”
“Rafe, no!” You tried to ignore the pit of fear in your stomach but it was grabbing you tighter than you had ever felt before. “They’ll kill you!”
Rafe shook his head. “I’m a killer too! Got nothing to lose!”
Your face contorted into an odd expression at his response before you let him go and turned your attention back to JJ. He was getting closer and closer to the top but you knew he had no clue what to look for.
“JJ, hurry!” You coughed around the sand in your throat and walked closer to see him better.
After a moment, you could hear him cheer in excitement. “Yeah, baby! We did it!”
You tucked your head down as a particularly strong blast nearly knocked you off your feet. You could barely make out his figure in the storm around you as he stumbled his way toward you. “JJ! We gotta get out of here!”
 “I’m good, I’m good!” He reassured as he got closer. “I’m great, actually.”
He shifted the scarf around his neck to reveal the crown, the Blue Crown, that you guys had risked your lives to get here in search of. 
“Oh my God,” You gasped before cheering in excitement. “Do you know what this means?”
JJ pulled the headwrap off to see you better, his hands moving the crown closer so you could hold it yourself. “We’re getting it back. We’re getting our home back.”
The celebrating was cut short as JJ caught sight of something behind you before shoving the show of you out of the way. A gunshot rang out seconds later, warning enough that the two of you needed to keep moving. 
“Go, go, go. I’ve got ya!” JJ’s hand wrapped itself into yours as he took the lead, weaving the two of you through tunnels and structures before you could even blink. The storm was starting to die down, the wind and sand slowing as you guys moved deeper into the town. 
Your run was cut short as JJ slammed on the brakes and you ran into his back. “J?” You asked, confused before you caught sight of the person in front of him.
Chandler Groff had caused JJ so much pain in the few weeks your group had come to know him. From disowning him as a baby, to almost killing him, and the constant manipulation, you were beginning to wonder if Luke was the lesser of the two evils. Life had been so unkind to JJ and you refused to let this man take anything else from him. 
Groff gave the two of you a wicked smile. His knife gleamed against the sunshine, the reflection coasting your eyes as you realized you were defenseless. He moved the blade closer in your direction. “You know what I want.”
JJ’s grip on your hand tightened. There’s a lot of things he would do if you weren’t here, but you were, and that meant you were his top priority.
“And if we don’t?” You tilted your head, mockingly. It was two against one here, even if he had a shitty knife.
“Then I’ll kill you both and leave your friends to find you in bits and pieces.”
You squeezed JJ’s hand twice, a silent signal that you were ready if he was. “Yeah, not happening.”
The two of you moved in tandem, your leg kicking up to knock the knife from his grip and JJ pouncing forward to pin his so-called father against the stone wall with an aggressiveness you hadn’t seen before. 
Groff groaned as his head slammed into the rough surface, eyes struggling to refocus. JJ leaned closer, his forearm pressing against the man’s throat harder. “Don’t you ever threaten her again, ya hear me?”
When Groff didn’t answer, JJ applied more force, relishing in the way the man groaned in pain. “You’ll regret ever crossing me.”
JJ wasn’t risking it and pulled back before slamming Chandler’s head back, effectively knocking the man unconscious. “Hard pass,” The blond teen spat, giving the man a hefty punch to the head to drive his point home. 
“You okay?” You asked quietly as JJ stared at the form of the man who he was beginning to trust. 
He twitched at the question before taking a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah.” His hand reached back to you, waiting for you to grab on. “Let’s go find our friends and get the hell out of here, yeah?”
You took his offer, kissing him softly before nodding in agreement. “Let’s do it.”
And the two of you ran off, leaving Chandler Groff to bleed out on his own, taking the karma he deserved with him to the grave. You had a treasure to celebrate.
--
a/n: fuck u obx writers and goodbye.
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blkkizzat · 3 months ago
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YAKUZA!TOJI X MILF!READER —aka toji on some joe goldberg bullshit
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🎞️ 𝐒𝟏 𝐄𝟐:
⟢ rating: mdni 18+ stalking, yuji is yakuza!sukuna x reader child, toji is still delulu af, size-kink, milf kink, breeding kink, voyeurism, dilf!toji, dissociative sexual fantasies, sukuna is an asshole, masturbation, killing fantasies, obsessive tendencies, heavy manipulation, brooding, yandere fluff, cute kid megumi.
⟢ episode run time: 𝟖.𝟕𝐤 ⟢ episode list: m.list ⟢ subscriber access: please comment on m.list to be tagged, rather than individual episodes as its easier for me to track. ⟢ director's note: e2 is here!! sorry for the initial issues! i hope you guys enjoy as we go deeper into toji's delulu, it's so much fun writing from his perspective. i feel like with each epi he only gets worse, hfsvsdjkfhvbsdj. he's still daddy tho.
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The sky has since fallen completely dark, but the city lights of Tokyo still twinkle brightly in the distance, drowning out any stars. The light pollution still appears beautiful though, as a comforting beacon of civilization in the surrounding darkness.
The atmosphere, which had previously been so violently vibrant, has now quieted to a muted calm as the world slows down, whipping cool night air around Toji’s tense frame on his balcony.
However, it does fuck all to soothe the seared edges of his temper. 
Nor does the serene scene do anything to calm the heated exchange still taking place inside your condo.
Your domestic dispute with Sukuna fiercely rages on.
Toji savors the last few puffs of his cigarette before discarding it and quickly lighting another. Chain smoking is his last salvation, lest the persistent urge to protect you completely overtakes him and causes him to act rashly.
The current state of the organization had suspicions at an all-time high. Toji couldn’t afford that considering who he was dealing with and what all could come in between the two of you should he err from the plan. 
Closing his eyes, Toji manages to regain control by doing the one thing that never failed to pacify him—thinking of you, of course. 
Both the sweet poison and the bitter antidote to Toji, you do nothing but constantly plague his psyche. 
But perhaps it’s that he knows you need him as much as he realizes he needs you. 
Over the course of time he had watched you, it didn’t take long for Toji to conclude that you only chose to remain with Sukuna for the security he provided. Preservation and the obligations of motherhood were the only logical motivations you could have.
It was glaringly apparent that Sukuna didn’t love you. 
Even a blind man could see the truth of it.
Sukuna only visited you on rare occasions, when yakuza business took him beyond the central city limits, as Toji’s own surveillance and connections had revealed. 
And whenever he did show up, it usually led to arguments between the two of you. If you had indeed loved Sukuna at one point you weren’t foolish enough to hold onto any of those illusions now. 
Moreover, the subject of illusions—Toji had been privy to having many fantasies of you.
Weathering away at the stone around his heart he strived his whole life to build—only to then rebuild once again after his late wife—addictingly sweet visions of you so swiftly demolish the walls he set in place.
Toji allowed himself many hopeful images of what life could be like with you. 
A life of ease. 
That said, it would never be too easy. 
Toji is still a yakuza himself and he knew the organization would never let him walk away entirely. 
Nevertheless, his role was somewhat unique—an executive assassin was almost unheard of. Toji took on as many kills as he did as a way to numb and distract himself, not because it was required of him or he couldn’t pass it off to another. And ever since he’d laid eyes on you he had no desire to busy himself with anything other than you.
Toji takes pleasure in knowing he wouldn’t ever have to be away from you for long too. 
As it happens, he already owns a spacious five-bedroom home just outside Tokyo in Chiba—the previous home he had hoped to share with his late wife. Toji had planned to surprise her with it once she left the hospital.
Yet instead of leaving the hospital with Megumi’s mother by his side, Toji had walked out alone. Numbed to the world, his hand had gripped the sleek black urn that had mockingly held her remains—along with his shattered hopes.
And as a result, no one had even crossed the threshold since the purchase was made.
But that would change though now that there would be the four of you to breathe life into the home.
Who else could give you that kind of life but Toji? 
Certainly not Sukuna.
Toji would give you everything if you let him—but you weren’t an easy conquest, something he learned quickly as you prove it to him time and time again.
Toji recalls your second encounter with a sharpened clarity. It had taken him only two weeks to meticulously study your habits. The encounter had been carefully orchestrated, but despite his planning, the day hadn’t quite unfolded as Toji anticipated to say the least.
Parked down on the block of your typical walking path, Toji sat in his blacked-out Mercedes, keeping an eye on his rear-view mirror monitoring your approach. The mirror also showed Megumi, who was peacefully dozing in the backseat.
Heh, yeah he’d made damn sure to have the kid with him back then too.
Hardly older than 18 months and already a lady-killer, Megumi never failed to melt the heart of any woman who laid eyes upon his abundant chubby-cheeked cuteness. 
Not like Toji had ever really needed to expend the effort before now. He knew just a mere look from him could get panties leaking, but you’d be harder to conquer than that. 
Toji would enjoy taking his time, which if he thought about previously he would have deemed odd—he’d never been one to hold himself back or take his time with a woman.  
Not anymore. 
Not since her at least. 
But the agony that had accompanied thoughts of his late wife had dulled considerably since he’d first started observing you. 
A bonus of that being it no longer hurts as much to see Megumi—not when he would picture you rocking him in your arms.
Toji had even gone so far as to believe that she would have approved, that she would have liked you. He imagined she would have gladly chosen you to take care of both Megumi and him if she’d known you.
A familiar form appears in the rear-view mirror and Toji knows it’s game time.
Here you were, a reward for his diligence in tracking your habits, right on schedule.
Your features sparkled in the summer sun as you pushed Yuji along in his stroller, humming a tune while the child giggled along clapping. 
The kid’s bubbly deposition had to come from you, Toji decided—surely none of it could have come from, nor been influenced by, Sukuna. 
Toji wondered if you could even make a somber child like Megumi smile.
Biding in-wait until you passed, Toji snatched up Megumi and kept far enough distance so as to not alarm you of his presence. 
His original plan had been to exit the car as you passed by and walk into the store together. But that all changed when Toji got the first glimpse of what you were wearing. 
Toji would avoid being noticed by you, but your attire made it near impossible for him not to notice you.
The dress you wore was barely made modest enough to wear in public by the cardigan you draped over it. A less curvaceous woman could have likely pulled it off without turning a head.  
However on your body, the way the thin loose fabric hung off your shape as it clung onto the moist areas of perspiration like a second skin—was fucking obscene. 
Especially as despite your continued efforts, the crack of your ass kept gobbling up your sundress no matter how many times you subtly tried to yank it free.
Toji bet your ass could swallow his cock up just as well. 
Damn.
Toji wished the walkup to the store was longer. 
He’d never been one for prayer, but he would have started if whatever God deemed it fit right at that very moment to send an unanticipated gust of wind. 
Your lack of panty line had his mind racing as to whether you wore a thong or were just slutty enough to be outside bare-assed in a short sundress mid-afternoon.
The green of your sundress matched his eyes too and Toji took it as another sign from the universe, he was on the right path by pursuing you like this.
You were doing this intentionally just to tease him, weren't you? 
Hoping he’d see you like this and to tempt him into taking a peek, right?
Entering the grocery store, Megumi seated in-cart, Toji continued tailing you as you shopped.
True to the homemaker he previously confirmed you to be, you picked up mostly fresh produce, prime cuts of meat from the butcher, and some pantry baking items. 
You were capable of more than just the frozen dinners he’d be more accustomed to if not for his Nanny’s cooking. She was a decent enough cook too—but she wasn’t you. 
Nothing she cooked smelled a fraction as good as the mostly foreign, but appetizing, smells that wafted from under your door to fill the hall with warm spices.
The food you would make him, once Toji gets you settled in your new home, would definitely be much better. 
You were truly perfect, well nearly so.
After tailing you down a few aisles, Toji suspects the one minor flaw you may have is you appeared to be the absentminded type. 
How else could you be disregarding his overbearing presence as he continuously had put himself in your line of vision? Restlessness overtook Toji as he waited for you to look up and catch his eye, giving him a casual opening.
You had been too consumed with your phone to notice his attempts— which if he would guess, wouldn’t be successful anytime soon. 
Grumbling, Toji had to take matters into his own hands if he wanted to shop with you at all.
Easy enough too, you were already so carelessly distracted.
Momentarily taking his eyes off you, Toji calculated how long it would take you to reach the end of the aisle. So as you moved from one aisle to the next, he casually nudged his cart into your path, creating a T-bone collision that made it look like you were at fault for leaving the aisle.
The bang was jolting enough to finally draw your attention.
“OH MY GOD! I WASN’T WATCHING WHERE I WAS GOING! I’M SO SORRY– I-I …Fushiguro?!”
Heh, took ya long enough to notice. 
“Well, hey doll. Long time no see, ma.”
A flagrant lie. 
Toji had seen you nearly everyday—you just hadn’t seen him. 
He could tell you were flustered and embarrassed as multiple heads in the store had turned towards the two of you from the rattling collision. 
You couldn’t apologize enough to Toji who was on cloud nine from your attention focused on him.
And as Toji had predicted, your attention was soon stolen by the black spikey haired baby boy seated in his cart.
“Oh wow Fushiguro!!—” 
“—Toji, ma.”
A smirk bloomed across his features as you rolled your eyes at him, continuing your affections towards Megumi.
“—I remember you said you had a son but I didn’t know you had a little mini-me, he’s so adorable!”
Toji didn’t fail to notice the double—no triple, take you had given between himself and Megumi. 
He also couldn't help but see how your big ass tiddies looked—like they wanted to bounce right outta that sundress and into his mouth—as you bent down to get a closer look at Megumi. 
No bra too?
Oh, you’d surely be the death of him.
But Toji's cock wasn’t the only part of him swelling, his heart rate sped like crazy just from watching you fuss over Megumi so apologetically—much like a loving mom soothing her own child at the sight of him sniffling back tears. 
For a moment, Yuji’s giggling drew Toji’s attention as the boisterous kid seemed to think it was some sort of ride. Needing no comfort at all, Yuji merrily squealed with laughter at the impact, continuing to stuff rice puff snacks into his little face.
The distraction kept Toji from warning you not to pick up Megumi and before he Toji knew what was happening— you scooped Megumi up. Settling Megumi into your arms, Toji noted you cradled him with the same joy radiating from you as you did Yuji—and much to Toji’s shock—Megumi let you.
It went without saying that Megumi wasn't the friendliest kid. 
Toji suspected he had inherited that from him, along with his trademark scowl. The little terror was known to pitch a screaming fit if someone other than Toji or his nanny picked him up. 
However, in your hold, Megumi appeared calm—angel-like even—as far as Toji was concerned.
More curious than upset, Megumi's tears dried at the corners of his eyes as he reached out to gently bop your nose with his tiny fist.
“Aye! Manners, kiddo.”
Toji chides Megumi, but inside he is amazed by the interaction. 
Returning the gesture, you softly boop Megumi's nose with the pad of your finger, causing him to grab it in defiance, as you offered him softly whispered apologies for upsetting him.
This served to confirm in Toji’s mind the place you belonged in his life. 
He couldn’t be wrong about you. 
You were perfect.
Everything was aligning better than he could have hoped for.
“No harm done ma, Megumi can take a lick. Just like his daddy.” 
You shook your head at Toji and gently rubbed soothing circles on Megumi’s back, cooing at him.
“Oh? So you’re growing up strong like your daddy, huh, Megumi?”
Megumi tilted his head slightly, his thumb resting gently in his mouth.
“Just don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re smooth like he does.”
You shot Toji a teasing smirk, immediately resulting in a half chub pressed against his suit pants.
Now you were… teasing him? 
Oh, you had no fucking idea just how smooth Toji could be when he wanted. And Toji planned to put 3 more kids inside of you soon too, just as smoothly.
Those facts withstanding, Toji could tell his son hadn’t quite made up his mind about you yet. Megumi just blinked at you, but the fact that he wasn't screaming his head off was good enough for Toji.
“Don’t let the blank stare fool you, ma, he likes you. Trust, ya would know if he didn’t. Just takes him a while to warm up to most folks.”
You gave Toji another playful smile.
“Hmm, and wonder who he got that from?”
Primal urges surged in his veins as Toji wanted nothing more than to grab you in his arms at that moment, although Toji settled for countering with a smirk of his own.
“We’re not that bad ma—once you get to know us.”
Toji flashed a toothy grin at you, amused by the upward pull at the corners of your lips as you tried and failed, not to be entertained by him. 
You gently set Megumi back down in the cart, smoothing down his onesie and safely buckling him in before turning back to Toji.
“I’m sure Megumi is a perfectly sweet kid, who just needs to come into his own a bit.”
“Eh? And whadda ‘bout me, mamas?”
“The jury is still out on you—Fushiguro.”
“—Toji,” he corrected once again—and again you responded by rolling your pretty eyes under those long thick lashes of yours.
Oh, Toji had just the thing for that ass since you liked to roll your eyes back that much. 
Toji imagined how deeply they’d be lodged into your head once he stuffed you full of his fat cock—all in one go—effectively pushing your guts up into your chest. 
Yeah, he had it bad for you—real bad.
Unable to stop the many intrusive sexual thoughts that would spring in his mind just from being close enough to smell the scent of your sweet vanilla and jasmine perfume.
Yet Toji couldn’t let the chance pass to press his limits with you.
“So—How about ya give me y’er number so we can set up a playdate, eh? Since ya think Megumi’s such a sweet kid and all, mamas.” 
Caught off guard, you looked away from Toji in contemplation, chewing on your lip.
“Hm... I-I don't think that’s such a good idea, Fushiguro.”
You shift your stance a bit, taking on a defensive posture. 
Tch, fuck. You’d be harder to crack than Toji originally thought. 
Plus you seemed to still have some loyalty to Sukuna, even if you held no love for him.
But that was all fine, Toji calculates—a good thing even.
That just meant you would be all the more loyal to him once he did have you.  
Thinking on his feet, Toji subtly switches tactics, playing dumb as he lifts a brow.
“Toji, doll, but ya know what I do for work. Think I gots time to be babysitting brats? What, s’not a good idea for the nanny to bring Gumi by?”
“Oh! Of course the nanny! Yeah that’s fine, erm, that's… sorry. I thought—”
“—thought, what mamas? You tryna get a playdate with me too? ”
Toji couldn’t hold back his laughter as your eyes widened in shock. 
Embarrassment washed over you like a tsunami, intensified by Toji's teasing. You hid half your face with one hand while the other gripped the grocery cart handle so tightly that Toji half-expected it to snap off.
“Kiddin’ ma—lighten up a ‘lil eh? Ya left y’erself wide open for that one, doll.”
Sighing in defeat, you finally conceded to his charms, exchanging numbers with him solely so his nanny could coordinate the playdates.
“I see you think you got jokes, Fushiguro.”
Toji relished the win as your smile returned. 
“Ya know I do—and it's Toji, mama.”
With that shift, Toji was pleased to see you gradually lower your guard around him, the ice between you started to melt. You continued your shopping together, Toji casually picking up a few items, occasionally seeking your advice on what to feed Megumi.
Truth be told, he had no idea. The nanny always handled all the shopping.
Subtly taking the lead in the conversation, Toji casually provoked you into revealing more about yourself. Details he couldn’t piece together—like where you grew up, what your life was like before Japan and what brought you here—all which he cataloged meticulously in his mind. 
Toji wanted to ask how a smart girl planning to be a doctor with a full-ride exchange program scholarship to Tokyo University got knocked up by a dumb fuckhead like Ryomen Sukuna—but the very last thing he wanted you to think about when you were with him was Sukuna.  
However, each piece of information he learned of you convinced him more of how much he wanted you—
“Oh yeah, Fushiguro! Despite what you said, I actually managed to make a friend!”
–all to himself.
Tch, a fuckin’ friend?
Toji’s demeanor darkened, but you didn’t notice—too busy humming to yourself while checking apples for bruises in the produce section.
Not like this information came as a particular surprise to him, Toji's eyes narrowed as he could guess exactly who it was right away.
Toji had seen the tall raven-haired woman whose afternoon jogs in the park so-conveniently aligned with your walks with Yuji. You both would exchange pleasantries as she admired your son, and you her commitment to fitness, that you would say you never seemed to have the time for these days. 
Yet your interactions from what he had seen never ventured much beyond that. 
Although Toji would normally oblige you a few friends, having a friend here would complicate his plans.
The women of The Nursery up until now had done such a good job in isolating you all on their own without him having to lift a finger. Toji was relying on their catty caste system to ultimately drive you into his arms, as the only person you could rely on.
Toji couldn’t have one of them ruin that. 
He needed to know more about this ‘friend’ of yours. 
How well have you gotten to know each other? 
And in what ways?
The fact that this development happened right under his watchful eye, without him knowing the depth of it, had Toji cross to say the least.
Thankfully, your isolation had you starved for an attentive ear, so you were eager to spill your guts about your new friend to him. 
And as the good future husband he’d be to you, Toji was sure to listen now as he would in the future—or at least appear like he was most of the time.
“She’s new like me! Well, not new I suppose, but back for a stay here with her fiancé until things calm down due to all the commotion happening overseas now.”
So that woman did intend to leave. 
Good. 
The sooner the better so Toji’s own hand wouldn’t have to be forced and your little ‘friend’ could be spared. 
Toji couldn’t have anything or anyone coming in between the two of you—no matter the consequences from who they were.
“She doesn’t have any kids so I’ve been giving her tips and sharing how I dealt with Yuji this past year. She always seems to be busy though, so we haven’t really had the chance to really do anything—but she calls me often.”
Toji’s teeth clenched. 
They dared to make phone contact even?
And bad girl—you’d been so eager to give this stranger, who had no respect for boundaries, your number but you hesitated with him?
What did Toji need to do to show you he was the only one with your best interests in mind?
Toji was the only one you should have confided in and the only one you should trust.
“Heh, well isn’t that nice, ma.”
Toji would have to figure out how to deal with the problem of your new friend at a later time. He didn’t want to spend the fleeting moments he had remaining with you brooding, as it was sure to soon show on his face and sour the mood.
Pivoting the subject back to just the two of you, Toji inquired about the baked goods he’s still owed. He could tell you’d forgotten already, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity he had to taste your cooking. 
It would keep him sated long enough until he could actually taste you.
“Ya know, I usually don’t like sweets though.”
Toji told you when you asked his favorite dessert and you were genuinely determined you could bake him something he’d like.
“Hmm, you know I can make a mean fudge brownie! I make them with semi-sweet chocolate too. Plus, since I moved here I also cut some sugar and added matcha to the recipe, so they wouldn’t be too sweet. they are so gooey they melt in your mouth.”
“Heh, yeah—I bet you would too, ma.”
This time, you didn’t suppress your amused cackle as you shook your head and pushed your cart forward, still overall ignoring his persistent flirtations even if you were growing more comfortable with them.
Toji sensed the playful personality you’d kept tightly wrapped under all those layers from being with Sukuna, whose cruel sense of humor would only serve to crush yours. 
Toji couldn’t wait to be the one to fully draw it back out of you.
“Ugh—boy, you play too much, Fushiguro!”
Toji chuckled, pushing his cart along after yours—he could tell your cheeks were still burning though. 
“—Toji, ma.”
When you both finally reached the register, Toji checked out first, slyly sliding his card to cover your groceries as well.
You were completely unaware though, having left your cart with him in line while you rushed Yuji to the bathroom.
Yuji, being the growing boy that he was, had devoured his rice snacks too quickly and promptly spat them up all over himself.
Feeling smug in his chivalry, Toji anticipated seeing an even sweeter smile when you returned to find your groceries already paid for.
Yet, he’d seemingly made another miscalculation with you. 
As when you returned to see your groceries bagged and paid for, you kept Yuji in your arms as you placed your bags of groceries in the stroller itself, storming out without a word leaving behind a dumbfounded Toji.
Toji was more than puzzled as you seemed furious at the fact Toji had done what he deemed to be ‘a-nice-thing-any-woman- would-want’. 
The fuck happend?!
Shifting Megumi and own bag in his arms, Toji swiftly pursued you. 
“Oy, mamas!”
You ignored him but Toji wouldn’t give up on you easily, or at all truthfully. 
You didn’t realize that yet but Toji figured you must have gathered he was bullheaded enough to keep following you until you acknowledged him once you abruptly stopped and whipped around to face him.
“What, no ‘thank you’ f’er me, ma?”
Toji watched your nostrils flare as you angrily snapped at him.
“Thank you?!” 
God, you were beautiful—even pissed off. 
Toji knows he should be more focused on what you were saying in the moment, as you heatedly  gave him a piece of your mind. However, Toji zoned out momentarily, unable to quiet his internal thoughts that screamed to him how pretty you were with your brow furrowed and cheeks puffed in indignation. 
“... and furthermore you think you can just buy me, is that it?! That just because I have to rely on Sukuna and accept living in a building full of side hoes to give Yuji a comfortable life that I’ll just giggle and go along with anything like the rest of those bitches?!”
Shit. 
You were actually pissed. 
Ah fuck. 
Toji had greatly underestimated your self-worth. Once again, you proved him wrong—and once more, that pleased him. It further highlighted how you were in fact a pearl among The Nursery pigs.
“Uh, Fuck mamas, er–I-I…no–”
Yet you proved to be such a wildcard that you had Toji of all people stuttering as he scrambled to find the right words to appease you.
“—then what?! Say something!”
Toji had to think fast. 
He could see how it looked bad now, but in a rare form from his usual nature, Toji’s intentions had been honest. Toji just really wanted to show you he had the means and could take care of you—not to buy you. 
Nonetheless, Toji really only had himself to blame as he’s sure you’ve heard of his far less than pious reputation. 
Ostracized or not, the bougie women of The Nursery were terrible gossips and he was sure you’d overheard plenty less than savory information about him. 
Of course, with all things considered, you’d assume the worst of him.  
But Toji had never even bothered to learn any of those bitches names, much less buy them anything—they would give him gifts.
In this situation though, to quell your anger and regain your favor, Toji devised a quick lie, hoping it would smooth things over.
“Tch,” he began, scratching the back of his head and awkwardly looking away from you.
He had to be sure to sell it. 
“No, it’s just ah, the guy—er, the teller. He assumed we were together.” 
Toji shifted his stance, readjusting a drowsy Megumi in his arms.
“So, you told him we were…?” 
You raised a brow, huffing but you didn’t seem as angry as before. Toji saw your eyes soften a bit, distracted by a cute lil yawn from Megumi who sleepily burrowed his face deeper into his shoulder.
Good kid, lookin out for y’er old man, aye Gumi?
Seeing how Megumi was disarming you, Toji knew this was his chance at redemption. Like a gentle giant, Toji’s large hand dwarfed his son’s small head with affection pats—an action he had picked up from observing you.
“Not exactly—but I supposed it looked that way, ma. What with the kids n’ya leaving all y’er shit with me n’all. Easier to just pay then explain.”
Toji continued before you could say anything, seeing as you didn’t look quite convinced.
“Trust me, from all of what you told me today, I know ya can take care of y’erself mamas… even if you are with that asshole.”
You regarded Toji with a scrutinizing gaze for all of a minute, yet that minute felt like hours to him. 
He couldn’t remember feeling this uneasy ever—and being in the Yakuza put him in several situations in the past he thought he wouldn’t make it out of. 
“Fine,” you resigned with a sigh, “It’s whatever then.” 
Seeing that you had set aside the words you originally intended to scold him with, Toji felt that this was the best possible outcome he could have hoped for.
Well shit, bullet dodged.
“Uh yeah, well…I’ll see you around then Fushiguro—”
Toji couldn’t just let you leave like this, on uneasy terms with your frustration still evident.
“—Wait ma!”
And even more so as Toji stopped you once again.
“Look…I ain’t too big to admit I fucked up, mamas. Let me make it up to ya, yeah? Give ya a ride back so ya don’t hafta walk back in this heat?”
Toji knew you wanted to reject his offer out of pride, but he was serious now—there was no fuckin’ way he was gonna let you walk back. 
Your load of groceries was way more than your usual trips, and on top of carrying Yuji, a sizable boy for his age, your purse and pushing the stroller would turn a 15 minute walk into a 25 minute one easily. 
The scorching summer sun perched high at its peak at this time of day and the thick, near suffocating, humidity could easily turn to heat exhaustion—especially for a young toddler.
He knew you knew that too.
You’d have to accept, per Toji’s calculations.
And you did.
“Okay, why not...” 
Yet the reluctance was clear in your voice. 
The ride back began uneventfully, yet the calm atmosphere inside the car was tinged with awkwardness. 
Megumi was snoozing in his car seat, while Yuji sat on your lap in the passenger seat. 
Despite the lingering tension, Toji could see the relief on your face. The transition from the sweltering heat to the cool comfort of his air-conditioned Mercedes had clearly brought you much-needed respite.
The domesticality of it all was something Toji didn’t realize he would miss as much as he did, and it pissed him off that it was something Sukuna of all people had and took for granted. 
However, when Toji glanced over at you, he tightened his grip on the wheel with both hands.
Your actions were purely innocent as you entertained Yuji, bouncing him on your knees. However, the movement caused your sundress to lift and bunch damn near to your hips. 
Toji swore he could feel the steering wheel crack under his grip as he fought the urge to slide a hand onto your thigh, or at minimum over his soon-to-be-bricked-up cock. 
Fuck. Get it together. 
But there was nothing Toji could have done to stop his dissociative daydreams, which had grown increasingly vivid since laying eyes on you, from consuming him. 
The sleek hardness of the leather steering wheel morphed to be malleable like the inner flesh of your thighs. Toji gripped the wheel tighter, which only made the visualization of how soft your skin would be in contrast to the texture of his calloused hand more apparent. The same hand which would so graciously sink into the warm plush of your skin with reassuring squeezes. 
Finally, Toji would also get his answer as to whether or not you had been wearing panties. Toji’s wandering hand would only need to travel up the tiniest bit higher to press his knuckles right against your core.
And when it came down to it, whether you had them on or not mattered little to Toji—regardless of the result, he still intended to bully his thick middle knuckle directly into your clit. 
Toji would take satisfaction in keeping his main attention on the road as he engaged you in casual conversation—all the while drawing slow absentminded circles around your bud. He would only pause if he felt the lil’ thing swell up enough—to the point where the soft clicking sounds from your slick could be heard if there wasn’t music playing. 
He’d edge you with subtle, yet incessant, pleasure all the way home. Seeing just how much of his teasing your messy cunt could handle.
Toji's mind was stuck so badly in-between your thighs that he’d actually been caught off guard when you finally broke the silence, eagerly asking about his playlist as “How Do U Want It” pumped through the car speakers. 
And that's how Toji managed to worm his way back into your good graces.
You seemed genuinely surprised to discover he was also a fan of ’90s hip-hop when he told you he was. 
Of course, being a fan of ’90s hip-hop wasn’t a lie—but he had heard this particular song playing from your apartment before, so he made sure to add it to a playlist for whenever he’d be able to get you into his car. 
Much to Toji’s enjoyment, before long you were laughing again as he attempted—very, very poorly—to rap along to some of the lyrics in English. 
Pleased to have won you back over, Toji purposely missed at least two turns just to keep you in his car a bit longer.
If the day had ended there, he would have considered it a win. 
But, of course, with his luck, things would prove to be anything but victorious.
Naturally, once you both returned, Toji carried your bags upstairs. However, that didn’t stop him from playfully teasing you.
Toji joked that—‘Miss Independent didn’t want him paying for her groceries, but she sure as hell didn’t mind him carrying them’—and was rewarded again with the soft snorts of your laughter.
It’s not like you didn’t have your hands full though, cradling both Megumi and Yuji, who were now fast asleep—one on each of your shoulders.
It was…cute.
Fuck, when even was the last time Toji even thought something was cute? 
You were cute though, especially with the kids. 
That he didn’t mind admitting. 
Toji regretted that he didn't snap a picture of the moment. He knew it would likely be over soon.
Heh, maybe it didn’t have to be though.
With both boys asleep in your arms, Toji considered the likelihood of coaxing you to invite him in. You’d surely need help carrying both Yuji and your bags inside—but he didn’t want to push his luck, especially after he had already majorly fucked things up with you once today.
Although, Toji realized you wouldn’t need any convincing when you looked at him with a kind smile that reached all the way into your bright eyes. That was all the encouragement he needed to step across the threshold, technically uninvited, as he held the door open for you.
Toji would have entered too, had the energy not immediately shifted. 
“—and just what the fuck is this?”
Motherfucker.
Down the hallway, Sukuna had since stepped out of the elevator with his right hand, Uraume, close behind. Sukuna appeared already agitated, barking rushed orders over the phone. 
But Sukuna abruptly ended the call the moment he saw Toji about to enter the condo with you. And as if he owned the entire building himself, Sukuna exuded obnoxious dominance in every stride as he approached. 
Toji may have outranked him but Sukuna rivaled Toji in both size and presence, sauntering over to loom behind you with an unmistakable air of possessiveness.
Tch, Sukuna shouldn’t even be here. 
Toji had miscalculated—a rare miscalculation, but a big one nonetheless—what he gets, he supposed, for trusting a less than meticulous intel source. 
According to his, now incorrect intel, Sukuna was supposed to be in Shinjuku at headquarters. The fact that he was here, interfering with his time he had so meticulously planned with you, infuriated Toji. 
Shit—he hadn’t wanted Sukuna to see you two together just yet.
Despite Toji being unable to hide his disdain, he offered a respectful nod to Sukuna, as was customary between fellow upper-ranked yakuza. 
Sukuna returned the gesture in-kind, along with a smug grin that had plastered itself across his face.
Tension saturated the air and Toji noticed that your once-gentle smiles had faded, replaced by wary glances exchanged between him and Sukuna. 
Toji’s hand causally brushed yours as you carefully handed Megumi back to him before you faced Sukuna.
He noticed you running the spot on your hand where your skin had touched.
Did you also feel the electricity between the two of you burn your skin?
Toji had.
“If I knew you were coming, you could have picked me up from the store, Ryo! Then I wouldn’t have had to be a bother to Fushiguro...”
You could never be a bother to Toji.
Looking you over, Toji scrutinized your every movement. He knew you were merely trying to shift focus and keep the peace—but to do it for him? 
After everything today, and how he unintentionally put his foot in his mouth with his actions?
Were—were you falling for him, already?
The slightly strained smile on your face still looked sweet enough, and Toji might have mistaken it for genuine—if not for the real warmth you’d shown him just moments before Sukuna’s arrival. 
You really had saved your smiles just for him, isn’t that right mama?
Toji’s heart beats wildly at the thought, however his good temperaments were greatly diminished as he noted how the light in your eyes dimmed.
Seeing you shrink yourself to answer to Sukuna, no matter how insignificant—pissed him off.
Well, at least thanks to him, you wouldn’t have to suffer Sukuna much longer.
As Toji had expected, Sukuna didn’t try to suppress his asshole-like nature, even towards you. Your attempted olive branch had been rebuffed by the heavy hand on your shoulder. It was evident Sukuna was unconcerned with your excuses as he focused solely on Toji.
“Ah Fushiguro, I see you’ve met my son and his mother.”
Even though Sukuna had failed to give you a title, the intent behind his words and demeanor was unmistakable: 
Sukuna owned you.
So that's how it is, eh? 
Toji couldn’t say he was surprised.
Although his possessive nature wasn't driven by affection for you, Sukuna simply never liked to share his toys.
Sukuna must have thought you were just another plaything for Toji, well aware of what Toji got up to typically at The Nursery, 
Eh, and were you any other woman, Sukuna would have been right. 
But you were never toy to Toji, he wanted much more than just to fuck you, even before he realized it himself. 
Toji would be lying if he said that he wasn’t looking forward to that too though. 
“Heh, we’ve already had our introductions before, isn’t that right…?” 
Toji was pleased by the flushed, wide-eyed expression on your face when he dared to address you by your first name—just as he was pleased that Sukuna’s smirk faltered into a scowl at Toji’s bold familiarity with you.
Toji mainly did it to piss Sukuna off. However seeing you flustered, knowing he could have an effect on you even in front of Sukuna, had been a much sweeter treat. 
“Oh? Then she must know not to pay heed to old roosters who are now forced to spend more time in the hen house than running the farm these days. Although, a rooster who cannot crow effectively is of little use anywhere else, I suppose.”
Toji’s expression held firm onto the casual smugness he wore, but inside he was boiling. 
Toji knew exactly what Sukuna was referring to.
Since his late wife passed, Toji had been only sent for specialized jobs that required his immense powerhouse abilities. Although he could easily air out a room of 20 men, Toji was considered to be more of a loose cannon than ever before.
Simply not caring—Toji took his anger out on more than just his targeted kills with no second thoughts given to the collateral damage of the environment he was in nor the civilian casualties around. Thus Toji made the damage control messier and harder on the organization in cases where more precision was needed. 
Some would have called that a liability and had him dealt with, yet the bigger liability still would be trying to ‘deal with’ Toji in the first place. 
Many had tried over the years for one reason or another—and it had been a guaranteed death sentence every time too. 
Regardless, Toji had remained dog loyal to the organization though, with little care for power or status, even though it came to him anyway. 
As long as he was paid, Toji had been content—and in turn, so had the organization. 
This resulted in Toji mostly being able to do as he pleased, even when he went a little rogue at times. 
“Rooster, eh—”
Toji knew Sukuna’s condescending smug attitude stemmed from the special privileges he’d been given to sit in on the executive meetings to solve the current unrest of having to do with whatever old fuck of an executive had gotten himself offed.
Regardless, it could still be seen as a loss of status not being in those meetings.
More importantly—Toji’s rogue behaviors could easily be manipulated into a target on his back should Sukuna assert he’d been a part of the internal treason.
Toji knew he had to tread cautiously with Sukuna, but Toji still did not feel threatened in the least.
“—I’d like to think of myself here as more of a fox though, it suits me better don’t ya think?” 
Toji’s gaze had briefly met your own, and you quickly turned away, his grin growing even wider.
But then again, if Sukuna wanted to think Toji was down and out—Toji would let him. 
It would work to Toji’s advantage in the long run with securing you as his anyway. 
Toji wasn’t worried as he had nothing to do with that old geezer getting wacked and he was glad they’d left him out of it.
Besides, Sukuna being brought into the inner circle could have just as easily been a way to keep a closer watch on him. After all, Sukuna wasn’t an executive—and while Toji was, his role was to eliminate threats, not uncover them. It made more sense for Toji to stay away than for Sukuna to be involved at all.
All which was a net win for Toji, as he found himself with more opportunities to spend time with you, while the organization conveniently kept Sukuna occupied.
With a swift, smooth motion, Toji bent down to retrieve the stray apple that had rolled from your grocery bag. He polished it against his suit jacket before handing it back to you with a sly smile.
“Ya know, I am just next door lil’ hen. This ol’fox is still capable of being a good neighbor. I’ll always have plenty of sugar for you too, should you ever find yourself in need…”
Toji turns to Sukuna.
“...Especially since Sukuna has his hands full on the upper levels of the farm these days, eh? S’a wonder at all how ya manage to visit the hens on this floor too.”
Toji watched with amusement as your eyes widened at the blatant innuendos given right in front of Sukuna, who merely was left growling as his cell audibly and persistently vibrated.
Sukuna deemed the call more important than the coded banter with Toji, as he all but dragged you and Yuji into the condo—leaving the groceries for Uraume to bring in.
Although he had won the battle of the day, Toji regretted his actions later that evening when he inevitably lost the war.
Sukuna made sure to let it be known Toji lost too, as Sukuna had fucked you against the adjoining wall of the master bedroom so hard the entire wall shook.
Your pained yet pleasure-filled moans seeped through the thick insulation of the walls.
Using you like you were just one of his toys, Sukuna was quite literally pounding the point home that you belonged to him with every forceful quake.
Point taken, but what angered Toji more was Sukuna was being too rough with you.
Toji could have sworn he heard you plead for Sukuna to slow down and the irony of his concern was not lost on Toji. 
Toji was never known for being a particularly gentle lover himself, but your body had been through enough—you’re a mother now. 
You deserved better than the careless treatment of some cheap plastic fuck doll. 
Nevertheless, despite the roughness, it was clear from the diluted moans through the insulation—you had liked it.
Sukuna was still making you cum. 
And oh god, did Toji ever want to prove to your precious pussy that his thick inches would fuck her even harder if that’s what she asked of him.
Toji had to repress a frustrated groan when he realized he was painfully hard. 
Your damped cries had Toji palming himself for relief before he even knew what he was doing.
Yet for all the perverse arousal he felt, Toji did feel some semblance of guilt. 
His taunting of Sukuna ensured that this punishment was a lesson for the both of you.
But—Fuck. 
Toji couldn’t deny his sadistic side.
He was a killer after all. 
Even the distressed tremor of your euphoric moans sounded absolutely heavenly to him, and it wasn’t long before Toji fumbled with his own belt to drag out his heavily leaking cock. 
Thick humid breaths left Toji as he hissed from having thumbed off the viscous pre-gathering on his redden tip. 
Toji slowly spread it down his pulsing length, shuddering. 
His frustrations at not being the one touching you—not being the one making you shiver and moan, are only rivaled by his frustration of this being the first time he’s had any real fire in his loins since he’s met you.
The fierce desire to cum was overtaking his more rational brain or self-control as he’d hadn’t been this hard in weeks, even when he’d rub one out from watching old security footage of you.
Wanting any semblance of contact, Toji placed his free hand on the wall—on the exact spot he imagined Sukuna had your cheek pressed against. 
With closed eyes, Toji pictured himself cupping your face, thumb smoothing away any stray hairs or tears while he is the one thrusting into you, filling you.
His large hand encompassed his length while he thrusted into his rough palm, faster now that the speed of the thumping had increased—signaling Sukuna was close to finishing you.
Swallowing a frustrated roar, your muted cries for Sukuna through the wall brought Toji out of his fantasies and back to the harsh reality that Sukuna was the one balls deep in your tight milf pussy—while he was only in his own hand.
Nevertheless, Toji was determined to cum and even more so, determined to soon be the one making you scream in pleasure. 
If you were this loud now—you’d be much louder on his cock. 
Toji leaned in even closer, resting his head on his forearm against the wall, the wall that still shuddered with the force of Sukuna ruthlessly rearranging your guts. 
Forcing himself to dissociate once more, so he could finish—Toji squeezed his eyes shut tightly as he bit his lip to the point of drawing blood. In the daydream, in Toji’s mind, it wasn’t the coarse skin of his palm that stroked his cock but the silky, wet heat of your cozy lil’ cunt. 
Toji convinced himself that the sloshing noises that rang throughout his bedroom were from him stretching your pussy to his shape as his fat tip slammed against your cervix— and not from the embarrassing amount of pearlescent fluid spilling over his hand. 
He hadn’t even cum yet—a testament to how backed up he truly was. 
Toji should have been ashamed at the way his girth had pulsed in his palm, but he was so close, and so determined to finish with you, there was no room for ego.
Picking up speed to nearly the point of chafing, Toji jerked his cock feverishly. Toji came when he heard the loudest moan yet vibrate through the wall, and the banging had ceased with a final jarring shake. 
Rolling back his eyes, Toji released his load all over the wall of his master bedroom, finally sated. Toji had allowed himself to release a strangled groan of relief, once he believed you both were no longer near the wall.
Panting and half-delirious with euphoric release, Toji’s eyes followed the trail of his thick cum splatter slowly trickling down the wall as his once engorged cock deflated in his hand. 
With a curled lip and narrowed-in eyes, the white fluid turns red in his mind’s eye. 
A dark chuckle escaped his lips and Toji fantasized what it would be like to put a slug right between Sukuna’s eyes. Toji’s large load pooled onto the floor in a similar fashion to how Sukuna’s brains would leak, spilling out as it also formed a similarly morbid pool of fluids.
Yet even despite his more ruthless inclinations, upon inhaling a deep breath, Toji felt an unfamiliar zen wash over him.
Killing was just business to Toji, and he couldn’t recall the last time the thought of offing someone had brought him this much pleasure or any semblance of peace.
Yet the fact revealed itself to him then, in that moment—the truth that he’d kill everyone in this goddamn organization for you if that's what it took.
Toji knew Sukuna wasn’t one of those cowardly fucks who would just roll over while someone moved in on his woman either, so Toji would likely be forced to kill him should Sukuna ever find out his true plans for you. 
Toji sighs reluctantly—it was just a mere fantasy.
Not that he gave two fucks what would happen to Sukuna, but killing him would only fan the flames and might even cause an all-out internal war within the organization. 
A war that as the top assassin, he’d be expected to quell with force���for god knows how long.
Ultimately, that would mean a loss for Toji too.
The more involved with the organization he was, the less time he’d get with you.
Brute force was never the ideal way to deal with someone like Sukuna, and it would be better for everyone if you seemingly left him of your own accord. 
But what other choice did he have? 
He’d do what it took to get you at the end of the day.
And while these complications may have deterred a younger Toji, you, as well as the challenge itself, breathed new life into his aging bones.
That life extended into all areas of his current one. Even the usually reserved Megumi had become less quiet and more responsive to Toji with his changed demeanor and increased presence around The Nursery.
You didn’t even know how much you were fixing his life even if you were only on the outskirts of it now. 
You had made him better—so in turn, he would give you better.
Toji had no real interests, hobbies, nor friends. 
Your moving-in had been the most exciting thing that had happened to him since she had been alive and Toji had lived the last year of his life on autopilot—but no more. 
Now that he had something, well, someone that made him feel energized once again. 
The familiar trill of a cell phone—one of the many burners he used for his yakuza dealings—pulls Toji out of his thoughts once again.
His lip curls in annoyance at the person on the line.
This is why Toji likes working alone. 
Others were not only liabilities, but they were rarely ever self-sufficient. 
Always wanting to ‘check-in’ and ‘confirm the plan’, rather than just taking the damn action themselves like they were supposed to. 
But alas, the task of getting rid of Sukuna was something Toji knew he couldn’t do alone, he needed the intel source, even if they were unreliable at best. 
Toji answers the call, but keeps it brief with his clipped replies.
By the time it ended, he was already scoffing, indifferent to the voice still speaking on the other end as he cut the call short and hung up as soon as he got the info he needed. 
Shoving the phone into his back pocket, Toji sparks another cigarette.
His 'partner' had so kindly reminded him of the loose ends he still needed to tie up.
But that could wait. 
For now, Toji remained where he was, stationed on his balcony—ready to stay out here all night for the small chance you may need him.
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©𝐛𝐥𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐠𝐟𝐱, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.
⟢ end credits: please comment, like and reblog and lmk what you think! I'd really appreciate the feedback as this fic has been my baby working on it.
i will likely end up completing another work while i work on episode 3 as my adhd ass usually needs to break it up in order not to get writers block and unlike e2 i had only done the outline so far, so if i post something else in the meantime just know i'm still working on episode 3!
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sparklingchim · 3 months ago
Text
game on | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 2.2k
genre: footballer!jungkook, fake dating, f2l
rating: pg
warnings: koo gets scolded for sleeping around 🥺, playboy jk <3, hints of a threesome 🫢, oc fights w a laundry machine
summary: jungkook is in desperate need to polish up his playboy image, and naturally, he turns to you for help.
a/n: hii my pretty besties!!!! it's my bday😋 so i wanted to share this silly piece i've been having so much fun writing!!! love uuu n treat urself to smth nice for me today <3 mwah😙
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Jeon Jungkook is a charming man – and he is well aware of the fact. He plays that card effortlessly.
Most of the time, it works in his favour.
But sometimes, it backfires spectacularly and gets him into trouble.
Which is why he stands in front of his fuming manage, who is radiating enough anger to fill the entire office.
The sight isn’t foreign to Jungkook. He wouldn’t say he is used to it, but he has found himself often enough in this situation to recognise the signs of deep trouble.
Not only is Jungkook’s charm complicating things, but the fact that he is famous too.
Sometimes, he uses that as an advantage. Not in an obvious way — never by flaunting his own achievements or demanding special treatment.
That’s not his style.
His name alone carries weight, and he knows how to let it work for him, quietly bending the world to his will... until the world pushes back.
And right now, it’s pushing back hard.
One thing Jeon Jungkook does enjoy about being a pro footballer, though, is the way women obsess over him.
He knows they love him – sees it in the comments they leave on his ig posts, sees it in the DMs flooding his inbox daily, and experiences it firsthand at public events, where hordes of fans scream his name. Jungkook thrives on that attention.
However, something he doesn’t love, and what he was never prepared for, is the media. The way they scrutinise his every move, how his face ends up on every headline anytime he does something remotely noteworthy.
And now, thanks to his latest shenanigan getting caught by the press, here he is. Standing in front of his manager, Taesung, and his PR agent, Jiwoo, eyes downcast, bracing himself for the scolding that’s already begun.
“You’ve gone too far this time, Jungkook.”
His manager speaks in a flat, monotonous voice, void of even the slightest hint of disappointment, as if he’d long since given up expecting anything different.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to clean up the mess you leave behind?”
A sense of guilt creeping up on Jungkook, even though he knows if he were just a regular guy, none of this would matter at all. And he finds it a bit unfair.
But to survive in this business, you can’t complain about unfairness.
“Have you completely lost your mind?” Taesung barks.
Jungkook remains silent. He forces himself to.
“If there was more involved than just alcohol-”
“No! Nothing like that,” he denies, his response firm and immediate. “It was just alcohol – and, well, just good vibes because we won the last match, and with the World Cup being next, everyone was just really excited.”
If he had known what kind of trouble a simple, innocent celebration of his team’s win at a club would bring, he would’ve gone straight home yesterday. He would’ve skipped the rounds of drinks, the flashing lights, the loud music, and definitely the attention. But hindsight was useless now.
“Good,” his manager says. “I’m glad you were happy.” Mock sympathy drips from his voice. “Perhaps the last time you are going to be happy this year.”
Jungkook nods, accepting the gravity of the situation. No more clubs, no more parties, no more girls.
At least, not for a while. His reputation had taken a few hits recently, and this latest mess wasn’t helping. He could almost hear the whispers: reckless, irresponsible, unprofessional. The kind of things that could ruin him if he didn’t get a handle on it.
He clenched his jaw. No more distractions. From now on, it was all about the game. He needed to remind everyone why he was Jeon Jungkook — the best on the field, not just the headlines.
“You’re no longer in for the World Cup. You’re out.”
His head snaps up at that. Did he hear that right?
“What?! What do you mean?”
“Myungbo doesn’t want you on the team anymore.” Taesung’s words sound heavy and final.
Jungkook’s heart pounds in his ears.
His world tilts. The room seems to spin, the edges of his vision darkening. This wasn’t just a setback — it was a disaster. The World Cup was everything to him, and now it felt like it was slipping through his fingers. The crushing weight of the news settles on his chest, making it hard to breathe. One silly night is all that happened.
He can’t believe that a single photo of him leaving the club with two girls clinging to each arm has cost him his spot on the national football team. He went home with two girls – so what?
But he doesn’t voice his frustration. He knows better than to add fuel to the fire. Speaking his mind now would only escalate the situation and make things worse. Jungkook knows from experience.
He swallows hard, forcing himself to stay calm. His pulse is still racing, but he takes a deep breath, focusing on controlling his emotions. He has to keep a level head if he’s going to find a way to fix this.
“There has to be a way to fix this.” His eyes move to Jiwoo, his PR agent. “Right?”
His manager fixes him with a stern glare. “Jungkook, remember the promise you gave everyone a few months ago?” Taesung reminds him.
Jungkook cringes. When he made a promise to avoid actions that might damage his reputation, he didn’t think it’d be that serious. He cut back on going out, made the effort to play the role of the “good boy” but really – come on. He can’t maintain that facade for an eternity. Especially after a triumphant victory like yesterday’s.
Taking away his spot on the national football team? He didn’t think that was possible.
“How many more times do we have to fix your problems, because you don’t care enough? How many times do we have to repeat this scenario?”
“I promise I’ll better myself,” he pleads desperately, looking back and forth between his manager and his PR agent. Someone has to believe him, help him.
“Do you genuinely believe this country wants to be represented by a 20-year-old boy, who can’t keep his personal life under control?” Taesung asks, eyebrows deeply pinched together. “This isn’t just about you, Jungkook. It’s about the team, the fans, and the nation. They need a role model, not a scandal waiting to happen.”
“I know. I know.” Jungkook scrambles for something convincing to say, desperate to sway their decision. This can’t be it. He won’t let his career take a hit because of something like this. “But – but this isn’t too bad. This is fixable. I can fix this.” His voice quivers with a desperation he barely recognises as his own. “Jiwoo.” Jungkook turns to her with pleading eyes. “You always know what to do. Please, help me”
“I did propose an idea but-”
“We’re not doing that,” Taesung cuts in. “It’s off the table.”
“What is it?” Jungkook’s eyes bounce back and forth between them. “I’ll do anything. This is – this is everything to me. You have to give me a chance.”
Taesung scoffs. “A chance? As far as I know, you have been given countless chances.”
Sweat coats the back of Jungkook’s neck.
Taesung understands just how much Jungkook has fought to secure his place on the national team. He’s well aware that it’s one of Jungkook’s greatest dreams, a pinnacle of his career that he’s poured countless hours of hard work and sacrifice into. That’s why, each morning, when he wakes up to the latest news of Jungkook’s escapades, he feels a deep sense of disappointment, texting Jungkook with a dejected shake of his head to visit his office first thing in the morning.
When it’s all he wants, like Jungkook claims, why doesn’t he act like it?
“If the head coach won’t give me a chance now, he’ll never do. This is my last opportunity to change his mind, make him rethink. I need to at least try.”
Jiwoo looks at the manager, waiting for his approval. He nods.
“Very simply put: you need a girlfriend,” she says.
For a second, Jungkook is at loss for words.
“A girlfriend? How’s that going to help?” Jungkook tilts his head in confusion. This is not how he thought Jiwoo was going to save him.
“You need a girlfriend to help polish up your image as a player. It’ll make you appear more like a gentleman, softer and nicer. We need to completely shift public perception and counter the negative image they’ve formed about you. It’s all about changing the narrative,” she explains.
“And that is not something we can easily achieve,” Taesung interjects. “Rebranding your entire persona is not feasible at this stage. You’ve been projecting what kind of boy you are to the media for the past two years. It’s going to be incredibly difficult to make a sudden shift look genuine.”
“No! We — I can make it seem real. This is my only chance,” Jungkook insists, his voice gaining a hint of determination. For a moment, breathing feels a bit easier again. “The World Cup is just a month away. That’s enough time to shift public opinion and prove I’m worthy of representing the country on the team.” There’s a hopeful lilt in his voice as he speaks, clinging to the belief that he might not have to bid farewell to his biggest dream after all.
But his manager doesn’t look as hopeful as Jungkook feels.
“How are we going to find a girl who will agree to this? Someone who isn’t an obsessive fan, understands this is purely professional, and can keep quiet? You won’t be able to pull this off.”
“I was actually thinking-” Jiwoo starts, but she’s cut off.
Jungkook hesitates, glancing between them before speaking. “Actually... I think I already have someone in mind.” His voice is more measured now. “That’s not the issue.” Jungkook doesn’t need to think twice.
Taesung sighs while Jiwoo looks at Jungkook apologetically.
“You can’t rebrand your entire persona from a playboy to a lover boy within a month, Jungkook. This is over.” His manager shakes his head, a sense of finality glimmering in his eyes.
One thing that Jungkook forgot to mention is that he is an extremely competitive man, too.
~
“This is ridiculous.”
You kick the laundry machine in frustration, but all you end up doing is yelping and clutching your aching foot.
“That’s the third time this month,” you mutter under your breath. “What did I even spend all that money on if it’s just going to break down whenever it feels like it?”
You shoot a death glare at the machine, teetering on the edge of losing your mind.
“Guess I’ll have to use the public laundromat again,” you sigh, grabbing the overflowing laundry basket filled with your and your roommate's clothes, and heading out of the bathroom with a huff.
On your way to the front door, the doorbell rings.
Please, you think. You were hoping for some quiet, uninterrupted time to deep-clean your dorm on this peaceful Sunday with no one around.
But when you peek through the peephole and see Jungkook standing there, your frustration melts away. You swing the door open, the laundry basket tumbling to the floor beside you in your haste.
“Jungkook!” you exclaim. “You’re timing is perfect! Can you please fix my laundry machine again? It’s been acting up, and I’m getting frustrated.” You groan annoyed.
Jungkook doesn’t share the same excitement upon seeing you.
You grow smaller and take an indecisive step back.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, noticing the tension in his features. “Did you lose the match yesterday? I couldn’t keep up because I had too much cramming to do last night.”
While studying medicine had always been your dream, the reality is less exciting. Right now, it means sleepless nights and relentless pressure. You know that pursuing this path will offer you many privileges later in life, but you have to suffer first.
“I need your help.”
His dark eyes, usually bright and full of energy, seem clouded with worry, and his hair falls messily over his forehead, like he’s run his hands through it a hundred times in frustration.
“Are you okay?” You study him closely, scanning his face for any signs of injury. Physically, he seems fine — still tall, muscular, and as fit as ever. But something is clearly off.
“You need to do something for me.”
“I can help,” you reply, your voice soft with concern. ‘But what is it…?”
“Can you be my girlfriend?”
You blink, repeatedly.
“Huh?”
You start giggling when he doesn’t add more. You expect him to clarify or laugh along, but Jungkook stays serious, stepping closer and gently taking your hands in his. You look down at them, then back up at his face, utterly bewildered.
“You’re silly, Jungkook. If someone on the team made you do this, tell them you did the punishment and quit acting so weird.”
It’s too early in the morning for Jungkook’s nonsense.
“No, ___, you don’t understand.” He squeezes your hands when he feels you trying to pull them back. “I actually need you to do it.”
“Do what?”
“Fake date me.”
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