#there were a million more normal things i could have said......
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i should've mentioned it when we were talking about tuca and bertie and them doing things right, but the arc bertie goes through with her SA and reclaiming it thru taboo fantasies is very similar to what ive been through, right down to a therapist opening me up to this new side of sexuality, and while it all happened to me years prior to the arc happening in the show, it broke me out of my anti shipper mentality that gave me this sense of justice and rigid rightness in what i was doing.
just thought now would be a good time to bring it up too because of the allegations against you and how what happened to max is basically the same thing that's happened to me. it's such an uncomfortable feeling to know someone who brought you into this world sees you like that, and having a fictional character similar to that person to self insert with in writing has helped far more then feeling disgusted with myself ever did or has, because i can stop anytime i want, or just get to a point where i move on completely from being able to gain anything from this personally. (which im leaning towards for now,) it's like bertie's therapist said, "because this time, you're in control."
i just wish antis could at least be more open to the idea that maybe, just maybe, shaming victims for coping this way isn't helpful, and that the lack of nuance implies shaming these uncontrollable fantasies (because you can't control your thoughts and like bertie's therapist said, "brains are weird!", although ive also heard the fear and arousal part of your brain is closely related which explains so many kinks to me tbh,) is the only form of healing and getting better, which it never will be. this kind of thing, of re-exploring your trauma thru fiction like this, definitely doesn't help certain people and that needs to be respected, but for anyone it does, they shouldn't just be written off as "normalizing their abuse", because im aware enough to keep this to myself, and to other people like me.
come talk to me about me "romanticizing" horrible things in fiction when you remember vivs shows have millions of views, and THATS why her writing like a fanfic author is bad - not because she inherently is one at heart. a large audience of adults should engage with these heavy topics, (and deserve to have them be written well, even if the stans swear they don't because nuh uh it's Da Best cuz mama viv made it,) not literal children. regardless of this unfortunate demographic that's naturally been formed and then unnaturally encouraged by the creator to line her pockets with their parents money, i think people have a moral obligation to tell a well written story about dark taboo subjects when they have such a large scale of production and connections like this, with some gray area in between, because theres some pieces of media that aren't as big as vivs creations or as small as fanfic writers (compared to other indie creations like video games or shows,) either, like mouthwash, or that one horror game with a sibling incest ending. that's what i mean when i said you aren't gonna make anyone want to fuck a lizard, but that vivs story's spread sentiment that would give 1970s victim blaming, "well, what was she wearing?" arguments a run for their money in how gross they are. i don't think max is gonna make anyone want to fuck their own dad either.
i hope this all makes sense! i think this is the most vulnerable ive ever been in your ask box. thank you for being someone who makes me feel strong enough to talk about this.
No, no, it makes perfect sense! Thanks for sharing your story, Anon...that was an incredibly vulnerable thing to talk about, and it couldn't have been easy.
I don't know if it's due to social media or what, but people have gotten really, really terrible at the concept of "I do my thing that works for me over here, you do your thing that works for you over there, and even though we don't understand each other, we mind our business about it." Like you said, it becomes a different conversation the more widespread and professional your piece of media is -- the same way that feeding 1,000 people a day is different than cooking for yourself -- but when we're talking about you and me and Max and all the randos on AO3? An appropriately tagged piece of work that makes a sharp distinction between fiction and reality is harmless.
What isn't harmless is telling someone that their intensely personal coping method is wrong and shameful and that they're a dangerous, evil person because it makes you uncomfortable, and that they're either a bad survivor or lying about being one.
Here's the scene from Tuca & Bertie, because it's so well done and always relevant.
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I finally got around to picking up my medications (including controlled substances for ADHD) so obviously there were a lot, and the very young very sweet pharmacy technician made a comment about how many medications I take and in real time I saw her glance at her supervisor like she realized she should say things like that to patients, and I could tell she felt awkward and nervous I would complain to her boss, so to lighten the mood I said "yeah I'm on a ton of meds. It's a shame I don't sell them for extra cash. Not gonna lie to you though, I have considered it..... Maybe I'll start looking into what I can get for my Adderall again if the doctor I see next week puts me on any new medications" and I saw her look scared again and glance at her supervisor again for a different reason. I think she finally decided I wasn't serious, but out of all things, why the fuck would I say that to the freshly graduated pharmacy technician that looks like a nervous horse at the pharmacy at 10am on a Thursday
#thats like the worst possible use of free will#in my defense though#i was out of adhd medication and didnt have any in my system during this interaction#but still#there were a million more normal things i could have said......
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the fact that megumi was supposed to be the MC makes me giddy as hell. ITS ALL COMING TOGETHER GUYS
#in the context of jjk it feels like the main character and the protagonist are not exactly the same thing#yuuji is the main character who was stripped away of all the things that made him the protagonist#and all the things that made yuuji the protagonist were later given to megumi#megumi is the “chosen one” the one in a million but all those things that normally would make the main character the protagonist#are out of megumi’s control#the story is still about yuuji#the story could only take place BECAUSE of yuuji and yuuji's CHOICES that’s why he’s the main character#yes kenjaku orchiestrated everything about yuuji's birth and role in life but yuuji is still the one who CHOSE to consume sukuna’s finger#yuuji was still the one who CHOSE to#not include himself in the binding vow sukuna made him enter#those are two pivotal points in the story and yuuji was the one who made them#yuuji may not be ”the choosen one” BUT THATS A GOOD THING#that means that even tho kenjaku orchestrated yuuji’s role in life yuuji was and still is the one in charge of his own life and story#he even decided to postpone his own execution wondering “why the heck I have to be executed”#he gets to chose what he’ll do next and NOT FATE#megumi is the one who’s “blessed” he inherited the most powerful zenin ct he’s father was the catalyst that started it all#he’s the one who was#the one in a million chance to be sukuna’s vessels#and megumi didn’t have ANY say in that#because all this time megumi didn’t get to be in charge of his own life#gege really had the fate toy with him just like reggie said to him back then#megumi gets to be the protagonist (or more like have a role of the protagonist) because he let the “fate” dictate his life for him#(unless noooowww he decides to finally take the reins of his life and save himself from his fate)#itadori yuuji#fushiguro megumi#I’m yapping I don’t even know if this makes sense I was caught in a moment skksskks
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A piece about survivors guilt.
This comic isn't perfect. I started it back in October 2023, and every time I picked up my pen, I wept.
I bring this to you today, on 9/11, in hopes that you reflect on this day a little differently than how most Americans would. Let it move you to continue to boycott, protest and challenge your family, friends and colleagues. You have a bigger impact than you would believe.
Thank you for reading this with an open heart.
From the river to the sea...
I'd like to bring to attention the fact that the figures depicted above are a gross undercount of the actual number of deaths. I scoured the internet high and low to source my findings and not a single one could break down the devastation that befell an individual ethnicity. Instead, they lumped a bunch of ethnicities together, provided a general timeline, and called it a day, reinforcing the sheer scale of dehumanization propagated in the west. The only consistency between all the articles I looked up was the 4.5 to 4.7 million figure I've included above, and even then, they were all published by western media news outlets... the very same that have been so unreliable and complicit in the genocide of Palestinians today. So I have to take everything they say with a grain of salt.
We are not just numbers.
All of us have ambitions and desires and lives worth living.
With that said, this is your friendly reminder to:
Donate an e-sim
Donate to PCRF to provide Palestinian children aid
Donate to Pious Projects to provide woman with feminine hygiene kits
Donate to CareForGaza to provide food to displaced families in Gaza either through their Gofundme or their paypal
Donate to any of the vetted gofundme campaigns on GazaFunds to help Palestinians trying to flee Gaza.
And if you or someone you know sees or experiences a hate crime and can afford it, SUE. This is a more effective use of your money than most realise. The reason zionists act with impunity is because of the normalization of white supremacy and oppression of ethnic minorities. Challenging that in any capacity tells them that there are consequences to their actions and makes them think twice before engaging in hate crimes and helps raise all of us up against the systems currently in place that let them get away with it.
If you can't donate or spend any money, you can:
Do your daily clicks.
Boycott targeted companies on the BDS list (if you're like me and you don't want a single dollar to go towards anything supporting Israel right now, you can use Bdnaash to double check what products are okay to buy, but the BDS list is sufficient as it is a strategic attack and proven very effective thus far)
Flood your representatives emails and voicemails with how you won't be voting for them unless their politics align with an immediate ceasefire in Gaza.
Attend a protest, be LOUD.
Challenge your circle of friends, family and colleagues with conversations about Palestine. (THIS IS THE MOST UNDERRATED AND MOST EFFECTIVE THING YOU CAN DO)
and if you're really up to, be disruptive in any capacity that you can think of towards major corporations benefiting from this onslaught. (i.e. halting military manufacturers from production + shipments, sticking boycott stickers on products at your market etc)
And finally, if your country wasn't mentioned in the above excerpt, it was no deliberate omission on my part and I encourage you to come forward and tell your story about the suffering of your people so that this may be a learning opportunity for everyone.
You are seen.
You are not alone.
Thank you again if you've read this far.
From the river to the sea...
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so. as you may know it’s christmas eve. as you probably don’t know i am eastern european. and probably the only real tradition anyone holds onto is christmas eve. normally my great aunt does all the food and very begrudgingly sometimes lets everyone help make like. one thing.
well.
this year. the year of our lord two thousand and twenty four. she decided she was done cooking and it was up to everyone else.
so i got a phone call from my mom a few weeks ago being like hey so. you’re making the cake. got it? good.
the cake in question is a walnut cake. i was entrusted with my great aunts recipe about seven years ago. i’ve made it twice. the first time i fucked up the frosting quantity. the second time i fucked up the eggs. both times were passable at best and notably! my great aunt did not taste either of them.
and i have to make this cake. on christmas eve. it is dessert. for everyone. my extended family will all be eating the cake. the walnut cake. on christmas eve. even my great aunt.
so yesterday, december 23 if you are counting, i went on the annual Last Minute Christmas Food Shopping Trip with my father, watched him climb into the case to get his half and half like he does every year, and stressed about my cake as i made sure i had all of the ingredients.
then. we went to my great aunts house. where i was met with Trial Number 1: The Cognac
this cake has cognac in the frosting. not a big deal really. except for the fact that my mom hates that there is cognac in the frosting. (my mom is hell bent on making christmas eve dinner vaguely healthier. no one else agrees.) and i was to be making the cake in my moms house.
also important to note: we (as in my parents) do not own cognac. mostly because none of us drink.
so my great aunt is like oh i have to give you the cognac. cause she knows. i am baking the cake. the walnut cake. (my dad told her. he is a traitor). and i say okay. sure. this won’t be a problem at all.
so she gives me. a shot of cognac. and when i say a shot. i mean an Entirely Full Shot Glass of Three Hundred Dollar Cognac. in a jar. for the cake. the walnut cake. that i have to make.
upon bringing the cognac home my mom says no we’re not putting that in. the cognac sits on the counter in its jar. no one touches it.
then i was met with Trial Number 2: The Frosting.
this recipe requires a pound of chopped walnuts. first. i couldn’t even find the walnuts. my sister and i searched high and low and in every cabinet we could find but no nuts. i called my mom. and said mom where are the walnuts? and she said. “they’re in the nut bag behind the basement door.”
oh of course. how could i have missed the nut bag? a holiday bag full of bags of nuts that was half hidden by wrapping paper and also behind a door?
in any case. could i have used a food processor? absolutely. did i? no. half because i forgot and half because i didn’t want to accidentally grind the walnuts into a paste. so i enlisted the help of my younger sister to chop the walnuts By Hand while i embarked on the real devil: the frosting.
which remember. is supposed to have cognac.
so i cream my butter. i add my sugar. i’m careful not to over sugar. i taste it a million times. i add my coffee and my vanilla extract (instead of cognac. which is still sitting on the counter) and it was all going so well until. the butter rebelled.
now remember. one time when i made this. seven years ago. i made too little frosting. so i made more this time. and i thought i had all my conversions right but evidently i did not because suddenly there was too much liquid in my frosting and it split.
the frosting for the walnut cake that everyone was going to eat. on christmas eve. the very next day.
i felt like a contestant on great british bake-off getting smited by the tent.
so i did the logical thing and shoved the whole mess into the fridge hoping that it would sort itself out overnight.
then it was time to face Trial Number Three: The Cake Itself.
as i have said this cake is a walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake that has been at christmas eve longer than i have been alive. and it requires no less than ten egg whites. which i whipped and i added to my walnuts and shoved the whole thing into the oven in my two baking dishes.
only to discover no less than 40 minutes later that the batter in the pans was Not Even (despite my best efforts). so i cooked one longer than the other and hoped that i hadn’t monumentally fucked up the walnut cake. like i had the frosting. which was in the fridge. and i was ignoring.
which leads to Trial Number Four: The Egg Yolk Cake
see i had ten egg yolks. i didn’t know what to do with them. my mom said flush them. my dad said make a custard. i proposed making egg nog. my mom said she didn’t want it in the house cause it was too fattening (a blatantly incorrect statement. please, if you are reading this, go drink a glass of eggnog. or some other fun festive drink. food is for the soul.) so i produced a recipe for an egg yolk pound cake. i made it. i still don’t know if it came out good cause i haven’t tasted it. i hope it did. but that was not the point. the point is the walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake.
and the following morning i was met with Trial Number Five: The Frosting Part 2
first i threw my failed frosting back in the mixer and it immediately secreted a brackish combination of vanilla extract and coffee so i did the only thing i could. facetimed my dad and said “father there are problems abound.” and he gave me the fatherly advice of “make it again.”
and so i did.
with more correct measurements. still scared it would split at any second.
though it didn’t.
and i didn’t add the cognac.
maybe no one will be able to tell???
my mom said that if anyone asks the first batch of frosting failed and i had to toss it. this is technically true.
but i had frosting. i had two uneven cakes. and it was time for Trial Number Six: Decorating
decorating cakes is easily in my top ten least favorite activities. decorating the christmas eve walnut cake is easily in my top three least favorite activities. because i am terrible at decorating cakes. and also because it has a filling.
the filling is jam. and i once again made the wrong choice because i put the jam on first before the frosting. which to be fair is what the directions say. but as everyone knows, the directions in recipes you get from your eastern european great aunt are not the real directions. so now i had to smear butter cream. on top of jam. for the filling of the walnut cake. for christmas eve. that we would be eating in a few hours.
and we didn’t have a cake plate. we had a large dish.
i had to use my fingers. i had to use three spatulas. i got jam everywhere. but i did it. and as soon as i set the top cake on top of the filling i realized my monumental mistake: i was supposed to trim down the cakes.
so now they were uneven. and lopsided. and there was nothing i, a mere mortal tasked with the impossible task of making christmas eve walnut cake, could do about it.
so i continued to spread my frosting. which i had enough of. and tried and failed to not get jam everywhere.
in the end it was almost presentable. not great. slightly lopsided. and definitely not as nice as any of my great aunts cakes.
which left me with Trial Number 7: Chilling It
our fridge was being taken up by other important christmas eve things (though not as important as my cake. the walnut cake) so i had to put it in the car. which was fine because there is snow on the ground.
i covered my cake. the walnut cake. in tin foil and hoped i wouldn’t accidentally squish it. and then i went outside. i tried to steal my moms shoes to walk outside. she was not impressed.
“you know, saph,” she said. “some of the time you’re pretty great. the other half of the time you’re really weird.”
i could not agree more.
i put my cake on the trunk. prayed to the cake gods and went inside.
on the one hand if the cake is good, i will be stuck making walnut cake for christmas eve for the rest of my life. on the other hand, if it sucks i will never have to make another one.
Trial Number Eight: The Tasting still waits.
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SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS
dec 10th. tom riddle — oral sex, experienced!tom.
RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. I 2024
summary: your ex couldn’t make you orgasm, so you were certain you were broken. tom shows you just how wrong you are.
warnings: 18+, SMUTTT MDNI, tom riddle can eat me aliv—sorry who tf said that?, tom riddle is such a realist; he sees a problem and he finds a solution, tom is a munch, praise kink, oral f!receiving, experienced tom, hufflepuff!reader.
Months pass, and your project remains the only thing Tom ever prioritizes when it's you asking.
Progress is slow—slow because you're usually far too busy talking to actually focus—yet, he always stays. He listens, even when the things you say should bore him, even when they mean nothing at all. He sits there—giving you hardly the barest scraps of himself in return as you fill the space between you with everything that crosses your mind.
Things he'd never waste a second hearing from anyone else.
And tonight, to no-one's surprise, you're doing it again—rambling on about nothing and everything all at once. You've got this way of talking—weaving tangents into something almost poetic, and usually, he lets it fade into the background as he works. You're saying something about the differences between the seasons, or maybe it's just some other kind of sentimental nonsense—at this point, he's not entirely sure.
It's easy to tune out. He tells himself he's not really listening.
Until—
"Actually, I guess I should clarify that—it's all hypothetical. I don't date," he doesn't know what you said before this, but he's certainly intrigued by it now. "And really, it has nothing to do with like, self esteem or anything, I'm just broken. Best to save someone the trouble."
That stops him cold. It's not so much the declaration that you don't date—he could have guessed that himself—but more so the way you've just called yourself broken.
It's not a word he's ever heard you use before.
"What do you mean, broken?" He asks, the question coming out far more blunt than he probably intended.
It just seems so out of character for you—you've always been an optimist, far too annoyingly positive to speak of anything this way. He blinks when you freeze, and blinks again when a moment of self consciousness seems to pass over your face—and he notes how that's a first for you, too.
"Broken...as in, uh, not normal," your eyes flit down to your lap, tracing the wood beneath where you're seated on the floor in his dorm. "My ex made that very clear in his assessment of me."
The mention of an ex is something he'd been anticipating—you're in your twenties, after all—but it's the idea that your ex is the source of you calling yourself broken, that he can't quite swallow.
"You're 'broken' because of one ex?" He says, and he can't stop how derisive and skeptical his voice sounds. He doesn't care to try. "I'm not following."
"I'm what you'd call, damaged goods, I think," you murmur, and there's an almost self-deprecating smirk on your face. He can't help but think how he's never seen that look on you, either. "I've got a slew of unhealthy baggage that comes along with me. You know, childhood traumas, abandonment issues, daddy issues—"
He snorts at that—daddy issues—and your head snaps up, smirk deepening despite yourself.
"Don't snort at my daddy issues," you huff, and there's a familiar annoyance in your voice that puts him at ease. "They're valid and real."
"I'm not denying their validity," he counters, his own smirk beginning to surface. "But daddy issues? Come on. You're not some tired cliché ripped out of a teenage romance novel. I refuse to accept your declaration of brokenness until you give me factual reasoning."
You laugh at that—alive and genuine—and for a moment, he's reminded of why he even tolerates you in his space at all.
"Fine," you cross your arms over your chest. "What do you want to know then?"
He makes a low, contemplative sound at that—because there's a million questions that come to mind with the words damaged goods—and after a moment, he settles on the one that falls out first.
"What is it, precisely, that makes you broken?"
You sigh, a bit theatrically—he knows you're just putting on a show and he wants to laugh at you for it—but he reigns that in, for now, while you figure out how you're going to respond to that.
The truth is, you don't know how to tell him the real reason you're broken—the part that has nothing to do with the laundry list of emotional baggage you could rattle off with ease. It's something...different.
Something more physical.
"I don't know, okay?" You're getting defensive. You're not sure why but you are. "Just—forget I said anything. We have this assignment to—"
"You dodging the question tells me it's more than just psychological," he cuts you off, leaning back into the couch. The way he's looking at you makes it clear—there's no way he's letting this go. "You getting defensive tells me you're embarrassed by it."
You sigh again, leaning back on your palms to mirror his body language, though it doesn't feel half as natural on you as it does on him.
"And you, being an insufferable arse, is telling me I never should have mentioned it in the first place."
His smirk at that makes you want to glare at him.
"Stop dodging," he says. "You brought it up. You don't get to take it back."
It's a challenge—the gleam in his eyes is practically screaming so. You're not sure why the sight of it makes something low in your stomach clench, and you're even less sure of why you want to tell him something like this—something you haven't told anyone else—not friends, certainly not family.
Whatever the reasoning, you can feel yourself relent.
"Maybe," you pause, the look on his face makes you second guess yourself. "...maybe I don't want to tell you because I'm afraid you'll look at me differently." You glance down at your lap, fingers twitching against the yellow pleats of your skirt before finally meeting his eyes again. "And I kind of like the way you look at me now."
Something like curiosity passes over his expression at that—but it's quickly hidden by the type of skepticism that tells you he still doesn't believe you're being serious.
"You're overthinking it," he replies, unmoving. "Whatever it is you think you're going to tell me, I'm not going to look at you differently. You're still you—no filter, unabashedly verbal—"
"Too verbal. Too positive, too loud," you finish his sentence for him—because you know that's how he thinks of you. "Too annoyingly optimistic. Far too hufflepuff for your cold snake skin. I know."
"Exactly," he says, tongue running over his bottom lip in attempt to quell his smirk. "So I reiterate. There's nothing you could tell me that would change that."
"Fine," you relent, giving in begrudgingly because you know there's no other option. "But don't say I didn't warn you."
He just lifts a hand at that, as if to say; whatever you think it is, I can handle it. The action makes you suck a breath into your lungs, trapping it there.
"You're right," you say after a long exhale. "I have a slew of psychological bullshit that would take the span of a year for me to fully go over in one sitting—but, I'm fine with it. That's...that's not the thing that made me call myself broken."
He says nothing, just makes a motion with his eyes for you to keep going.
"It's, uhm...physical." You whisper, and your brain is moving too much and too fast and you're not even completely sure how to say it without sounding insane. "And...I don't know, I just...I can't orgasm. No matter what. I just can't—it's frustrating and embarrassing and it's the reason my ex ended things."
There's a silence that follows, and he knows if it were anyone else, they'd probably find a way to comfort you. Reassure you. Tom, however, isn't anyone else—
"You're joking," he says, and his tone is incredulous again.
A self-depreciating laugh leaves your lips involuntarily, the sound of it making you almost want to cringe.
"Would it be less embarrassing if I was?"
He's still just watching you, dissecting your words as if waiting for you to crack a smile and confess this was all some stupid joke—and the vulnerability of it aches like a stab to the gut.
"This is the reason you think you're broken?" Is what he goes with when he finally realizes you're being serious. "Because you haven’t orgasmed?"
The bluntness of it makes you flush, makes you wish you could sink into the floor. "I know it's not normal, okay—"
"It's not an abnormality, either," he asserts, with casualty. "You might just have a disconnect."
You blink, caught off guard—not just by his choice of words, but by how matter-of-fact he sounds, like this isn't the mortifying confession it feels like.
"A disconnect?"
"A disconnect," he repeats, looking you over, something clinical slipping into his eyes. "Between mind and body. And considering how loud your thoughts are—"
"Hey—" you snap, suddenly feeling a bit indignant, but he just continues on.
"—it's not surprising that you can't get out of your own head."
You open your mouth to argue, to tell him he's not a therapist, so what the hell does he know? But the certainty in his expression makes you pause. He doesn't look patronizing or condescending, just...assured. Like he knows exactly what he's talking about.
You hesitate, lips parting, a protest forming on your tongue. Before you can say anything, though, he raises a hand to stop you.
"Come here," he says, standing up from the couch.
You blink, trying to decipher what the hell he's implying—because if anything, the last thing that's going to make you less paranoid about intimacy is proximity.
"What?"
He just looks at you, making a motion with two fingers, beckoning you to stand.
"Don't ask questions. Just come here."
It's an order, and it makes your spine tingle in a way that's definitely not comfortable—but you get up from the floor, and move closer to him anyway, closing the distance between you with only a few steps until you're close enough to him that you can practically feel the heat that seems to come off him in waves.
It's weird—he's suddenly too much all at once—you're so much more aware of him being in front of you than you think you've ever been before and it does not help that he's just looking at you—as if studying you—blinking only once as he raises those same two fingers to your neck, resting them against the pulse point at your throat.
Your entire body tenses. His touch is far more gentle than you ever imagined it being, something disarming that makes your pulse beat faster against his fingers as a result—and because this is Tom, with all his smug and certainty—he gives you a look that tells you he can feel it before he slides his fingers up to rest on your forehead.
You scowl at the motion, but he clicks his tongue, the sound as condescending as it is amused.
"I told you, you're an overthinker." He murmurs, eyes dipping to your lips. "Too much noise."
You want to refute that—mostly because you're not overthinking, you can't be—he's just so unequivocally overwhelming—
"I'm not—"
You start, but he moves his fingers from your forehead and places them against your lips—
"Quiet." He scolds, and that makes something low in your stomach clench. "Your body knows what to do. You're just letting your thoughts get in the way."
You long to protest again, just for the sake of defiance—but then his fingers are against your collarbone, and that motion in your stomach becomes a bit more of a squirm—
"Your body is trying to tell you something," he whispers, watching each little hitch in your breath. "But you're too busy talking over it to hear what it's saying."
You realize—with a sort of horror that's laced with something a little more uncomfortable—that he's right. Your body is trying to say something. It's communicating through the unsteady force of your breaths, through the clench of your fists against your skirt—
Of course, he notices. He's noticing far too much.
"Relax," he murmurs, and now he's trailing those same two fingers in an unhurried path down your shoulder. You suddenly regret every decision that led to you wearing a T-shirt. "I'm not going to bite you."
Something about the way he says it makes you wish he wasn't quite so convincing—the familiar banter you long for gone with the sharp exhale that comes out of your mouth as his fingers encircle your wrist—
"Your pulse is racing," he says casually, far too casually for how much effort it's taking you not to scream. "Does that seem broken to you?"
Gods—you want to respond—you really, really do— but your thoughts flatline when you realize his touch has shifted. He's no longer just holding your wrist; he's guiding your hands to rest against his chest, and—
"There you go," he whispers, and the tone of it tells you he knows exactly what it is he's doing to you. "See? Your body's doing exactly what it's meant to do. You—" his fingers trail up your arms, and his voice gets lower. "—are not broken."
You swallow hard, acutely aware of your hands on his chest and the way your palms are clammy against the fabric of his shirt. He's shifting you now, deliberately crowding you, and it's only when you feel the edge of the couch press against the back of your calves that you realize—perhaps a second too late—exactly what it is he's doing.
You stumble back onto the leather, and he follows—crushing his lips to yours.
You gasp, startled, because despite everything you truly hadn't seen this coming. The kiss is messy, clumsy, and his hand finds the nape of your neck, tugging at your hair with just enough force to make it sting. And inevitably, when you gasp again, he takes it as an invitation to work his tongue into your mouth, other hand slipping under your shirt—trailing up your stomach.
You're trembling now, and he makes a low sound at the realization. Your brain is racing to catch up, and the irony of this isn't lost on you—he'd just claimed you weren't broken, but he might as well be destroying you himself.
He parts from your lips only to trail his own across your jaw—
"You're shaking," he murmurs with a smirk against your throat—as if he's taking immense pleasure in the fact—you hate how smug it makes him sound. "Do you want me to stop?"
You want to tell him he's being a bastard, but then his lips press to that spot on your neck—the one that makes your breath hitch and your pulse stutter—and you find yourself whimpering at the sensation.
"No," you breathe, and you'd be embarrassed by the pleading tone in your voice if you weren't so lost in the moment. "Don't stop."
He makes another low, satisfied noise at that.
"Good," he whispers. "No thinking. Just feel."
You swallow—throat dry. It's unfair how easily he's dismantling you with nothing but his mouth and hands. Unfair how he's leaving you breathless and unraveling while somehow making you feel seen in a way you can't explain, even with your eyes shut.
"Tom," you find yourself whimpering, and you aren't even sure what you're asking for—you just know you want more as his lips trail lower—as his fingers work to tug down your skirt. "Gods."
"Shh. Feel me," he murmurs, almost possessively, his lips brushing lower, grazing over your stomach, then your pelvis. "Let your body do the talking."
You've got your hands tangled in his hair before you even know what you're doing, and you hate the fact that you're pretty sure you'd melt into a puddle if he weren't holding you together.
"I feel you," you whimper as he kisses lower. "You're all I feel."
He makes another low sound at that, and you just know it's the response of ‘yeah, that’s right’—but then he's between your legs, panties shifted out of the way, and the first sweep of his tongue against your clit makes all coherent thought shift to static.
"Oh! God," you gasp, the word barely escaping before dissolving into a whimper when he does something with his tongue that makes your vision blur. "Tom—oh, fuck."
He just makes that smug, satisfied noise against you again before his tongue swirls over your clit and you find yourself almost cursing whatever deity made him so good at this, because it's not fair how quickly he reduced you to a whimpering, shaking mess beneath him and—
"Don't stop," you find yourself babbling, digging your nails into his scalp and knowing you look like a goddamn wreck as he makes a meal out of you—tongue lapping up your slick and swirling your clit before sealing his lips around it and forcing your back off the leather beneath it. "Please, don't stop, please—"
It's all you can manage to say. Your thighs are shaking now, and you're sure he's got you dripping all over his face with how soaked you are. He knows you're falling apart and he just keeps going— your brain ceasing function in favour of just focusing on how fucking close you are—how close you are to something you've never felt before in your life—and you're not even sure what you're begging for anymore but it's incoherent and loud—
"I need—" you whimper, your hands tightening in his hair, pulling just enough to make him groan against you. You don't know what you're asking for, but you know he has it. "I need—I need—“
"Let go," he murmurs against you, the roughness in it vibrating up into your belly. "I dare you."
There's still a little bit of you functioning on autopilot, just enough to tell you that when he murmurs those words—vibrations rattling up your cunt and into your chest—you're completely done for.
It’s merely a few seconds later that your high reaches its peak and he just keeps lapping as you shake apart beneath him with an intensity you've never felt before in your life—orgasm shredding you apart at the seams. Your thighs clamp around his face, your eyes squeezed shut, ears ringing so loud you barely register his low, muttered praises: "good girl," "so good," "there you go."
You’re fairly positive your legs will never be able to support you again when you finally come back down, feeling entirely like jelly as he pulls back, tongue flicking over his lips to clean off whatever's left of you.
And without thinking, you grab him and pull him up, crashing your lips against his in a messy, desperate kiss. He tastes like you, like him, like something you can't quite describe—and it makes everything feel intense and unbearably real all at once.
He gives you a moment, as if letting you recover, just languidly kissing you back—and you have to be honest with yourself and admit that this kind of makes you want to scream.
"A disconnect," he smirks against your mouth, the tone still smug. You manage a weak smack to his shoulder, though it does nothing to wipe the satisfaction off his face. "Still sure you're broken?"
You hate that he's right. Hate that he's managed to pull a reaction from you that you didn't think was possible. But as you sit there, shaky and spent, you know you can't deny the truth: no, you're not broken.
"Not broken." You whisper back. "You will be though, if you don't stop smirking at me like that."
#SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS❄️#oh daddy riddle. whence shall it be my turn#this is the type of tom i would take the frontlines for#alongside lucius we shall fight to the death#sorry for being unhinged as fuck#goodbye#tom riddle#harry potter#tom riddle smut#tom riddle x reader#tomriddle smut#tomriddlesmut#slytherin boys#tomriddlexreader#tom x reader#tom riddle x oc#tom smut#hufflepuff reader#hufflepuff#slytherin boys x reader#slytherinboys#slytherin#tom riddle x you#tomriddle x you#tomriddle x reader#tomriddle#theo riddle#riddle smut#riddle brothers#tom marvolo riddle
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close to you | l.n
summary: chemical override, ultraviolet, you could be mine tonight ; or having a crush is mind boggling, soul crushing and confusing, but also so exciting at the same time.
warnings: inspired by close to you by gracie abrams, friends to lovers (bc it’s my brand), pining, all the feels, reader is childhood best friends with pietra, fluff, and some language here and there
jordans notes: hi everyone! long time no see (😅) i’m slowly getting back into writing, school has been kicking my ass. i don’t think this is my best work, but i really wanted to get something out for you guys since ive been gone so long! i promise there’s more to come than just this! i hope you all are well!! sending you all my love 🤍
masterlist | listen to the playlist
before you met him, you didn’t think about the color green too often. it was one of those colors you didn’t necessarily love or hate, it was just kind of… there.
to you, it was just one of those colors where shades of it were prettier than the actual color itself. or a color you only really liked during the fall. like how, typically, people only liked the color blue during the summer.
that was until you met him.
the boy with those big, beautiful, slightly blue but slightly green, water-colored eyes. now you love the color green. obsessed over it. thought about it every second of every day. it was crazy how a simple opinion could change in a matter of seconds, all because of those stupidly pretty eyes.
You lie awake on your back, staring at the ceiling. surely it wasn’t normal to obsess over someone this much, right? especially over someone you weren’t even sure would ever feel the same.
sure, you had crushes before, and had your fair share of falling quickly and all at once. it wasn’t an unusual feeling to you, no stranger to catching feelings rather quickly.
but this time around, everything was different. everything felt more intense, more mind-boggling and confusing and pulse rising. the feeling so foreign that sometimes you wish you had never met him so you wouldn’t have fallen so hard so sudden, but deep down you were so glad that you had.
it was the little things that made you wonder what it was like to be loved by him. the subtle glances in your direction, the gentle but lingering touches. you had thought you were going crazy, reading too much into things in the beginning. over-analyzing every little thing that made your body light up with excitement.
until pietra confirmed your suspicions.
“he’s totally into you,” she said, leaning closer to your ear as you watched him from across the room, his head tilted back, nose scrunched and eyes half shut as he laughed about something max had said, which was likely something stupid, “like, one hundred percent, down bad, into you.”
you tilted your head at the blonde, “you think so?”
she scoffed, “more like know so,”
“who told you?”
“no one has to tell me anything,” she said, “i can just tell.”
you rolled your eyes at her, “p, i’ve told you a million times, he’s not into me.”
but she was right. he was one hundred percent, undoubtedly, down. fucking. bad.
ever since the moment he met you at that stupid pub with max and his group of friends, all he wanted to do was get to know you. he didn’t want it to seem obvious when he asked max about you, but he knew no matter what he did it was going to seem obvious. just from the way he looked at you like you hung the stars in the night sky, he was no where near subtle.
he hated to admit it, but he had even done some lowkey instagram stalking through one of his private accounts. he had seen all the pictures of you and pietra, a life long friendship explained to him in front of his own eyes.
and every time his fingers would swipe through your account, all he could think about was how beautiful you were. how your eyes sparkled every time you smiled for the camera, how happy you looked when you genuinely laughed, and how he wished to be the reason behind the gorgeous sound forever.
he wasn’t trying to make it obvious tonight, not wanting to make it well known that he had his eyes on you for a while. but he had lost track at the amount of times you had caught him looking at you, and he swore he had even caught you looking at him first a handful of times.
so when everyone in the house decided that it was the end of the night and started filing through the door, he took it upon himself to make his way over to you. you were talking with pietra, a smile on your face as you giggled about something she had said. the brazilian woman’s eyes landed on him, to which she looked back at you and said something before you turned to look in his direction.
he smiled when your eyes met his, “hey, did you need a ride home?”
your heart threatened to leap out of your chest, “uhm, i was just gonna call an uber, you don’t have to-“
“no, no,” he said, shaking his head, “i insist, really. it’s not a big deal.”
how could you argue with him? those pretty green eyes, that smile, the face. you simply couldn’t. it was impossible. you couldn’t see the look pietra was giving you, but knowing her, you knew it was a look that said ‘go with him’.
and do you did, the cool, crisp autumn air in london suddenly making you wish you had brought a jacket. you had wished you planned for the nightly breeze, wishing you had opted for a long-sleeved shirt for the night instead of the spaghetti strap tank top you had chosen.
as you walked to the car that was parked down the street, he noticed you shivering. he saw the way you hugged yourself, your hair moving with the breeze. his curls danced in the wind and he knew if he was slightly cold, you were definitely freezing.
he tugged off the hoodie before passing it to you, the sound of the doors to the mclaren echoing before he turned to you.
“here,” he said, “it’s a little windy out, i know you’re probably freezing.”
your stomach did backflips as you took the soft black material from his hands, “oh, are you sure? aren’t you cold?”
he sent you a shrug, “i’ll live,”
there was no use arguing with him, so instead you sent him another smile in appreciation before tugging the sweatshirt over your head. it was already warm from hugging his body, and you couldn't help the way the smell of his cologne lingered in the soft material. you had to keep yourself from burying yourself in it, the feeling of being close to him without actually being close to him sending butterflies to your stomach.
the car ride was filled with comfortable silence, music softly playing in the background. he stole occasional looks over at your figure as you looked out the window, the neck of his hoodie pulled up to your face as you watched the street lights pass by. you looked beautiful in the dim light, he couldn’t help himself.
he thought about taking the long way to your house. a simple but effective way to be able to spend more time with you. however, the thought of you being confused and questioning his actions was enough for him to stay straight at the stop light instead of taking a right for the longer way.
he tried not to look disappointed when he reached your house, parking in front of it. he wondered if your roommates were home, if you’d tell them about the fact that he drove you home.
he turned the engine off, unclicking his seatbelt, “i’ll walk you up.”
you nodded, the both of you getting out of the car and walking through the dewy grass up to the wooden door. you fished for your keys in your purse, putting them into the lock before turning to look at him, “thanks for the ride,”
“anytime,” he smiled. he meant it. and you knew he meant it. he’d come get you at anytime of the day, wether it was early in the morning or late at night, he was always going to show up.
you stood there, eyes searching his face. he was so pretty to you, the brown curls that were slowly growing into a mullet to the sparkling eyes that you loved so much. the dimples in his cheeks that appeared whenever he smiled, the slight facial hair he had managed to grow, but your favorite part was the moles and freckles that covered his skin. the ones he had once complained about, but you loved the way they scattered his skin.
you dreamt of kissing each and every single one of them.
“hey, lando! long time no see!”
you both averted your attention, neither of you hearing the door open behind you. in the doorway stood your dark haired roommate, faith.
“hey,” he smiled softly, trying once again to not look disappointed from the way your moment was interrupted.
“we’re having drinks and watching movies if you wanted to join,” she smiled, ignoring the look you were sending her way.
“oh, uhm,” he started, not sure how to answer, “it’s getting kinda late, i dunno-“
“you can crash in y/n’s room, im sure she wouldn’t mind.”
what was that supposed to mean?
you looked over at him, “you don’t have to stay-“
“he’s been gone for weeks, he’s legally obligated,” she said, reaching from the doorway and grabbing both of your arms, “c’mon, liv is making martinis.”
you sighed heavily and he laughed softly at your protest that went unnoticed by her. your other roommate, olivia, stood in the kitchen.
“look who i found!” faith exclaimed excitedly.
“oh, hey guys! just in time,” she smiled, “it’s martini and movie friday!”
lando leaned over to you as the other two talked, “they do this every friday?”
you sighed again, nodding, “unfortunately,” you turned to your roommates, “we’re gonna head up to my room, actually,”
you led lando to the stairs, ignoring the playful teasing from the girls in the kitchen, “oooh!!”
“up to your room, huh?”
you shook your head, opening your bedroom door and letting him in before closing it, “‘m sorry for them, they’re… how do i put this?”
“a lot?” he asked, a smile playing at his lips.
“yeah, we can put it that way.”
he chuckled, sitting down on the bed as you put your things down. he looked around your bedroom, not much had changed since the last time he had been in it. the fairy lights dimly lit up the room, photos littered the walls. the desk that sat in the corner of the room kept your makeup bag and brushes, a mirror sitting in the middle.
he looked at your nightstand, a picture of you, him, max and pietra sitting on the wooden surface. it was a picture from miami, smiles on all of your faces. you stood in the middle, arm wrapped around his middle as you smiled for the camera, his trophy in the hand that wasn’t wrapped around your middle.
“i’m gonna change,” you said, “i might have a pair of your sweatpants somewhere if you wanted to change.”
he nodded, “yeah, that’d be great.”
you turned back to the dresser, opening drawers in search for the pair of sweatpants he leant you one day. the same day he picked you up from the failed date. the one that left you crying outside, swearing up and down that you’d never find love. despite it being in front of you this entire time.
finally finding the black material, you handed them to him, “i meant to give them back, but i just haven’t seen you,”
he shook his head. you could’ve kept them forever and he wouldn’t have minded one bit, “it’s alright,”
you grabbed your pajama bottoms from the foot of the bed, “be right back.”
he changed into the sweatpants while you were gone, still looking around your room. he smiled at the picture of you and your roommates, clearly taken at a party. you wore the prettiest smile he had ever seen, dressed in a black off the shoulder top. it was from the same night he realized he liked you in more than just a friendly way.
the door opening brought him back to reality, his eyes landing on your figure and how you were still wearing the black hoodie he had given you earlier. it brought a small smile to his face.
you noticed his eyes on you, looking down at the black hoodie, “i swear i’ll give it back once i wash it.”
he laughed softly, shaking his head, “it’s okay. it looks better on you anyways.”
you smiled, fighting the heat that was rising your cheeks but it was no use. he joined you on the bed, watching as you flipped through different things on netflix.
“you don’t have to stay, y’know,” you said, looking over at him, “if you have better things to do..”
“i don’t,” he said, turning his head to look your way, “in all honesty, there’s no where else i’d rather be.”
you sucked in a breath, your eyes dancing across his face once again. it was hard for you not to stare, not when he looked so pretty like this. back pressed against your headboard, hair slightly messy, and he looked so cozy. it made you want to wrap yourself around him, lay your head on his chest.
he did the same, his eyes scanning your face like he was trying to memorize every single feature, every single imperfection that he thought was still perfect. the same ones you’d argue about, but he still always found adorable.
his voice broke the comfortable silence that had fallen between the two of you, “do you ever have something to say but can’t find the words to say it?”
your furrowed your eyebrows, “like?”
he licked his lips, his attention now fixed on his hands as he fiddled with the ring on his middle finger. you never thought he’d be the type to get shy, almost embarrassed as his cheeks turned a light shade of pink.
“like, i dunno,” he mumbled, “i just.. i don’t know how to put it, but ever since the moment we met, i’ve found myself just.. thinking about you. thinking about what it’d be like to cross this weird, thin, little line we’ve drawn. if we both just said ‘fuck it’ and dove head first into whatever uncharted territory we’re tiptoeing around.”
his eyes met yours again as he let out a nervous breath. you hadn’t realized you had been holding yours, shock clearly written on your face which made him shake his head.
“never mind, it’s dumb-“
“lando,”
“- i knew i shouldn’t have listened to what max was going on about-“
you rolled your eyes as he kept blabbering away, talking nonsense. your body moving before your brain could comprehend what you were about to do, only catching up when your hands met his jaw and you were suddenly catching yourself a mere few inches from his face.
it was too late now, no going back.
you pulled his face closer to yours, his blabbering coming to a halt when you pressed your lips to his. his brain short circuited, you pulling away before he had the chance to kiss you back.
“‘m sorry,” you immediately apologized, “i don’t know why i did-“
it was his turn to cut you off now, grabbing your chin and pulling you back to his lips. his thumb traced along your jaw, his pointer finger sitting underneath your chin.
you kissed him back after a second of surprise, letting his free hand reach down to grab your hip, pulling you on top of his lap. your hands threaded through his curls, nails scratching his scalp.
when you both finally pulled away, all you could do was smile. giggles and chuckles echoing through the room as you both sat breathless, his nose bumping yours as he tucked a piece of stray hair away from your face.
“so we’re in agreement then, huh?” he asked.
“isn’t that obvious?” you smiled and he shook his head, letting out another boyish laugh.
“how long have you.. y’know, had feelings for me, i guess?”
“since the minute i saw you,” he confessed, “you were the most beautiful girl in the room, a smile that would make everyone stop and stare. it’s always been you, i’ve just been too scared to tell you.”
you smiled again, heart fluttering in your chest. all the dreams and wishes you spent with him on your mind, it was all finally paying off, “it’s always been you for me, too. i thought i had been way too obvious, but clearly i wasn’t obvious enough.”
“we were both too oblivious,” he said, moving more hair from your face, “but it’s okay, we’re here now.”
you were convinced your smile was never going to be wiped off your face, “kiss me again,”
“with pleasure,” he mumbled, lips finding yours once more as you melted into him.
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#ln4 x reader#fluff#ln4#ln4 imagine#ln4 fluff#lando norris x reader fluff#lando norris x reader imagine#lando norris x reader fluff imagine#lando norris fluff imagine#lando norris fluff#lando norris fluff x reader#ln4 fic#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x you#ln4 one shot#ln4 fluff x reader#ln4 x reader fluff#ln4 x reader imagine#ln4 x reader fic#mclaren#mclaren f1#mclaren formula 1#mclaren formula one#formula 1#formula one#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fanfic
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Family Dinner
pairing: Five x reader ft the Hargreeves siblings
warnings: the usual Hargreeves siblings chaos
notes: fulfilling a request asking for a shy!reader meeting Five’s siblings for the first time. it was actually very hard squeezing in so many characters into one piece
summary: despite trying his best to avoid it, Five is forced to introduce you to the family
The last thing Five wanted was for you to meet his family. If he could, he’d do everything in his power to keep you away from the chaos and stupidity that was his siblings forever. He didn’t need them overwhelming you with their quarreling or reminding you of how utterly tumultuous his home life was, and he felt an unwavering need to keep you separate from the Umbrella Academy. You were the one thing he didn’t have to share with his siblings, the one thing he had earned on his own without his powers, and the one thing that was normal in his life. He would do anything to keep his life from tainting your innocence by all means.
The discovery of your existence by his family had been completely accidental. When visiting his new apartment for the first time, Allison and Klaus had stumbled upon a framed photograph that Five had forgotten to stow away before their arrival. In the frame was a beautiful girl with kind features and a gentle smile, her arms lovingly draped around Five’s neck as he held her to his side and forced a lopsided grin for the camera. They knew Five had always hated photos, but it seemed here that he was willing to set aside his disdain for being photographed to please this mystery girl.
“What are you two looking at?” Five demanded after stumbling upon them staring down at the frame. Eyes widening when he realizes just exactly what the two are looking at, he quickly snatches the photo from Klaus’s grasp and holds it protectively against his chest. “I can’t believe this, I was gone for two minutes and neither of you could manage to stay out of my things.”
“Why didn’t you tell us you had a girlfriend?” Klaus asks, voice laced with mock offense as he clutches at his chest to mimic being wounded.
“The details of my personal life are none of your concern,” Five grits through clenched teeth, his tone dripping in annoyance at their snooping and frustration at being caught red handed. How could he have been so sloppy? Five had always been meticulous about every minute detail and keen at covering his tracks when needed, and yet he had failed to protect the most important secret he held.
“She’s gorgeous,” Allison tells him in hopes of assuaging her agitated brother, “and she looks really sweet. Why would you hide something like this?”
“This may come as a shock to you, Allison, but you guys aren’t exactly great at first impressions,” he explains condescendingly with a tight lipped smile, doing his best to hold back the urge to use more colorful language and insults. “The last thing I need is for you guys to start hashing out old childhood issues in front of her and scare her off.”
“Ouch, okay, noted,” she replies with a displeased frown. “But that’s still no excuse to keep your relationship a secret. I know we’re not always the most reliable bunch, but obviously this girl is important to you, Five, and if that’s the case then she’s important to us, too. Just give us a chance to prove ourselves- bring her to my place Friday for dinner so we can all get introduced.”
Five is silent as he mulls over Allison’s offer, doubt clear on his features as he considers all the possible ways a family dinner with you could go. While there are a million ways for it to go wrong, he’s able to acknowledge the plausibility of it being a success. As much as he hated to admit it, his sister did have a point. They weren’t always completely unreliable, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t think spending time with his siblings could actually be pleasant at times. And it’s not like you haven’t been questioning him already about his family and the details of his childhood. Perhaps it was time to finally bite the bullet.
“You get one chance,” Five finally relents in a firm tone, pointing his finger at them both in warning. “Do not screw this up.”
“How exciting!” Klaus gasps with an enthusiastic clap of his hands. “Oh, I have the perfect dish for this occasion.”
As Allison and Klaus immediately begin to discuss the details of Friday’s dinner, Five can only force himself to quell his panic as best as possible and hope that you’re able to stand his family.
~~~
You fidget nervously with the pendant of your necklace as Five swiftly parks the car in front of Allison’s home. It’s beautiful, and by the looks of the warm lights that glow through the window it seems the festivities have begun. Despite your boyfriend having already turned off the car, you make no attempt to move, prompting Five to reach over and gently take hold of your hand in his.
“Don’t worry,” he assures you in the softest voice he can manage. “These idiots are more worried about impressing you than you are about impressing them.”
“They’re not idiots, they’re your siblings,” you reprimand him gently before finally mustering up the courage to step foot out of the car. “And despite how much you act like they annoy you I know you really care about them. I just want it to go well is all.”
Five can’t really argue with that- sometimes he hates how easily you’re able to read him. It’s a feat not many can accomplish, and yet you managed to do so in record time. It’s also just another thing he adores about you; you see him like no one has before, and your gentle nature and levelheadedness perfectly balance out his tense and combative personality. You’re good for him, and he hopes his siblings see the good in you too.
The door swings open before you can press the doorbell and immediately you find yourself being pulled into the tightest hug of your life. A gasp of surprise leaves you at the sudden intrusion, and it takes everything in Five to resist the urge to immediately pry his sister off of you. He stares daggers at her innocent smile behind your back, but she merely waves him off before pulling away to look at you.
“It is so good to finally meet you!” She exclaims cheerfully, excitement clear in her tone. “I’m Allison. Come in, come in.”
You aren’t able to get in a word edge-wise as the woman practically drags you into her home and begins to show you around. A pleasant smelling aroma fills the house from the food that cooks in the kitchen, and animated chatter drifts throughout the hallways as the siblings gather and catch up on each other’s lives.
“Please make yourself at home and let me know if you need anything at all.”
“Thank you, a-and thank you for having me,” you offer with a meek smile, your hands nervously wringing together in front of you. “I’ve heard so much about you all and it’s finally nice to put faces to the names. I’m y/n.”
“Well then, welcome to the family y/n,” Allison notes with a wink before disappearing into the kitchen. You almost jump in surprise when you feel Five’s hand rest against your lower back as he leads you into the living room to meet the rest of his siblings.
“Ready to enter the lion’s den?” He whispers under his breath, and for a moment you genuinely can’t decipher whether or not he’s joking.
Three men and a woman sit on the couch animatedly discussing the contents of the television show playing on the screen before turning silent at your arrival. The sudden attention makes you nervous, your throat drying up as you harshly swallow down your anxiety.
“Luther, Diego, Lila, I’d like to introduce you to my… girlfriend,” Five utters after clearing his throat, obviously not familiar with the process of introducing a partner to family. He was still fairly new at this relationship stuff and still struggled at times with opening up. If he didn’t care about you so much he probably wouldn’t even bother, so you appreciate his efforts. “Y/n, these are my brothers and my sister-in-law.”
“Girlfriend, huh? This is certainly an upgrade from the last one,” Diego teases with a wry chuckle.
“Wasn’t the last one a mannequin?” Lila prompts with a raised brow much to Five’s dismay.
“Shut it,” he warns through clenched teeth, heat crawling up his neck at the mention of Delores. Leave it to those two to bring up his past at the worst time.
“A mannequin?” You repeat unsurely, your features contorted in confusion. Five’s eyes widen in panic, but Luther is quick to change the subject on Five’s behalf.
“It’s nice to see Five with someone for a change,” he notes with a nervous chuckle in hopes his comment redirects your attention off of the previous topic. “How did you two meet?”
“I work at a coffee shop in town,” you explain with a sheepish smile, and Five visibly relaxes beside you as you start to recount the beginnings of your relationship. A crisis has been avoided thanks to Luther, and for once Five is grateful for his brother’s conversational skills. “I was the only one who could make his coffee exactly the way he liked it, so he became a regular and would stop by every time I was working. We got to talking, one thing led to another, and, well, here I am.”
“Well, I for one think you are much too good for him,” Lila points out to the boy’s annoyance, “but seeing him less uptight and ornery is a pleasant change.”
“Thank you for that lovely observation, Lila,” Five retorts sarcastically with a roll of his eyes before escorting you out of the living room before the woman can embarrass him any further.
“Did you really date a mannequin?” You whisper curiously only for Five to immediately redden at your question.
“Let’s not hash out my dating history just right this second,” he instructs you before entering the dining room where a man has just finished setting down a heavy centerpiece on the table while another watches.
“Hmm, a little more to the left,” the one with curly hair and heavy eyeliner instructs while scrutinizing its placement. His eyes glance over the table before landing on you and Five in the doorway, and he immediately gasps before rushing over to greet you. “You must be y/n! Oh, it is so lovely to meet you. I’m Klaus, Five’s favorite brother, of course.”
“I don’t ever recall saying that,” Five points out with a raised brow and amused smile. Klaus simply rolls his eyes and waves his brother off with a tsk.
“You don’t have to, I can see it in your face,” he dismisses before returning his attention to you. “And that handsome man over there is our sweet brother Viktor.”
“Hey,” Viktor offers with a timid smile and small wave. “Nice to see you, welcome to family dinner.”
“Thank you,” you reply gratefully, “it’s nice to finally meet you all.”
“Well, not all of us. A certain someone thinks he’s too good for family dinner,” Klaus huffs in annoyance before turning his attention back to the centerpiece. “Does that look centered to you?”
“It looks perfect. I love the arrangement you’ve made,” you compliment much to Klaus’s delight.
“Finally someone with taste!” He gasps before draping an arm around you much to Five’s dismay and guiding you back to the kitchen. “Come, come little one, you can help me pick which napkins to use.”
Watching your figures disappear into the hallway, Viktor glances at Five before stating, “I don’t think you’ll be getting her back for a while.”
“Trust me, I’m aware,” the boy sighs in displeasure before heading towards Allison’s liquor cabinet for a drink.
~~~
Much to Five’s surprise, dinner goes off without a hitch. The food is lovely, the conversation is pleasant, and despite your usually shy demeanor you were able to open up rather quickly to his siblings. It was obvious the family took a great liking to you, and his original worries about them scaring you off had been proven irrational and untrue.
From his seat on the couch Five watches as you animatedly converse with Luther and Klaus about a new bakery that just opened up in town, your smile never once leaving your face and their interest in your words never once dwindling. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you talk this much, and the sight brings a comfortable warmth to his chest at seeing you happy.
“See? This wasn’t so bad, was it?” Allison goads with a pleased smile. “Everyone had a nice time and y/n fits right in.”
“As much as I hate to say it, I’m sorry for doubting you,” Five relents with a soft smile. “This was nice.”
“And we like y/n, so don’t mess this up,” Lila warns him with a facetious shove to his shoulder. Annoyed by her words, Five rolls his eyes and shrugs away from her touch before refocusing his gaze on you. Your eyes meet for a brief second as you glance out into the living room, and you flash him a quick smile before looking back to Klaus who enthusiastically grabs hold of your hands and begins to demand a trip to the bakery with you while Luther attempts to insert himself into the plan. Despite how annoying his family can be at times, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t bring a smile to see his face to see them all get along with the girl he loves.
“Trust me,” he utters carefully, his voice so uncharacteristically tender it takes the two women by surprise, “I’ll do anything to keep her around for as long as I live.”
#request#the umbrella academy#tua#five#number five#five hargreeves#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves imagine#number five x reader#number five imagine#five x reader#five imagine#tua x reader#tua imagine
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𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬
→ premise: there existed no such cricumstances in which dean doesnt want your lips against his. bloodied, bruised, even with broken bones, a kiss from his girl makes it all better.
→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader
→ warnings: tw: blood, fluff, but some sort of instense making out, established relationship, descriptions of blood and injuries, blood in mouth, nicknames [baby, sweetheart, my girl], reader is described a bit to have anxiety
→ a/n: as always i hope dean isn’t too out of character as i have never written for him! enjoy my loves :) and sorry its short.
A hunt had gone south they got the monster and it was done but Dean was injured, they were headed back to the bunker. That was all Sam spit out over the phone, normally you appreciated his ability to get straight to the point. Currently you were cursing it as he hung up shortly after cause he was the one driving back. You had a million and one questions running through your head and more than half of them weren’t good.
This was the part of the boys going off hunting and you staying back that you hated the most. When one of them got hurt or something went wrong and all you could do was sit there, a chill running down your spine as your blood boiled in your veins, anxiously pacing the living room, trying to not let yourself jump to the worst conclusions which you regularly failed to do.
You used to go on hunts with them and instead of you currently being the one riddled with anxiety, it was Dean. Once the two of you pulled your heads out of your asses (as Sam would say) and realized you’ve had feelings for each other for years, you got together. Being officially together seemed to make Dean's protective nature increase tenfold. He was even more terrified to lose you now than before. He began fussing over you whenever you'd get even the slightest scarpe or bump on a hunt. He would glue himself to your side the whole duration. Forcing you to normally stay back in the motel room when the hunt turned into a more dangerous situation than dean cared to put you in.
You loved Dean but it began to get a bit too tedious to deal with and even Sam made a comment on how overprotective he was being. In an attempt to make hunts go easier and ease your boyfriend's anxiety, once you all situated yourselfs in the bunker you suggested to him that you go out on hunts less, especially when they could now take Cas. Dean jumped at the suggestion but you couldn't blame him.
“I think that's a great idea baby” he said with a kiss to your forehead.
You still helped out, researching things when Sam needed the help, going through old books and files in the library, patching them up when they’d come back with cuts and bruises. You hadn't realized just how jittery you'd be however stuck in the bunker when he was out and especially when they went on far away hunts.
They'd go to the hospital when things were really bad, so you knew if the boys were on their way back then it couldn’t be too bad. The reminder did nothing to sooth your racing thoughts, your heart thumping so hard you could practically hear it pounding in your ears. You didn't know just how long you've been pacing back and forth, too afraid to look up at the clock and realize it's only been a few minutes since Sam called.
You don't hear the sound of baby pulling into the garage, your head is too clouded as you were damn near about to wear a grove down into the old floors. The sound of a door shutting loudly and two sets of heavy footsteps are heard down the hallway. Spinning so quickly on your feet you nearly lose your balance you turn to face the noise. Watching as the brothers emerge from the dark hall, Dean's arm rests on Sam's shoulder almost using him like a human crutch. You let out a small gasp making them stop and both of their eyes snap up to yours, weather you gasped in surprise at the state of your boyfriend or in relief you can’t tell.
“Hi sweetheart, We’re home” Dean tilts his head, his voice laced with his usual sarcasm and deep tone. He pushes off of Sam, clearly able to at least stand on his own, slowly making his way over to you a small limp in his step.
In the blink of an eye you’re rushing into his arms, your soft hands grabbing ahold of his beaten up face and crashing your lips against his. He grunts out a “fuck” in surprise or pain the word dying in his throat turning into a noise as his eyes fall shut and he grabs ahold of your hips. With a sharp tug he pulls your body as close as he can to his, his hands sliding up your sides. His bloodied lips against your plush ones, kissing you like a man starved, a kiss you’ve come accustomed to when he comes home from longer hunts. “Missed you” he hums in a hushed tone into the kiss for only you to hear, making your racing heart only speed up. His blood flows into your opened mouth as the kiss goes on, the metallic taste on your tongue foreign but you were far too relieved he was back in one piece to care about the blood coating your tongue.
Any pain Dean felt after the whole ordeal and from the bumpy ride back to the bunker seemed to fade from his body. He could care less about his brother's presence still in the room or the blood still dripping from his face and that covered his clothes or his split lip. It felt as if all the bruises that were forming on his body were already being kissed away as your soft lips slid against his. The taste of your mouth overcoming the taste of the blood in his, your scent calming his body, reminding him he's finally home again. Your body grounding him.
A rough deep cough stops the moment making the two of you reluctantly pull away, lips swollen and parted as you catch your breath.
“Before this gets any more R-rated maybe we should patch him up and you know clean him up” Sam suggested with a small light hearted chuckle as he walks off to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. You were grateful you remembered just yesterday that it had needed to be restocked. “Sorry Sammy” Dean calls after him, you turn your head away and follow up with a “Sorry not sorry” down the hall after him making a small smirk grow on your boyfriend's face.
Once he's out of eye sight, Dean grabs ahold of your face by lightly squeezing your cheeks and turns your head back to face him. Leaning down to begin softly kissing you again, groaning against your lips when the pain in his body begins to return.
“Who needs a first aid kit, all i need is my girl's kisses” He mumbled softly against your mouth, making you break out into a smile. A small tear slips down your cheek, your breath returning to your lungs and the chill in your spine fading as relief finally settled over your body knowing he's okay.
→ a/n: if you enjoyed please reblog or send me some dean requests id love to write more for him!
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fluff#fluff#fem!reader#x female!reader#female reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester drabble#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester headcanon#dean winchester hc#dean winchester supernatural#dean winchester x y/n#supernatural#dean x reader#dean x you#dean x y/n#dean x female!reader#dean imagine#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural dean#supernatural drabble#reader insert#jensen ackles#supernatural one shot
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𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐦𝐯𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞 || 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐧
summary_ A triumvirate is a group of three people who share power, you hated the island your father brought you to. Your summer vacations turned you witness of some bloody games, what surprised you was how you ended up being the rag doll of the salesman and frontman of the organization that held the games.
warnings_age gap (reader is in her early 20s), reader is implied to be American (not specified again), sexual tension, very mild sex, oral (f!receiving), PLOT HOLES AND NO PROOFREADING YET, ooc salesman and frontman, violence, manipulation, marriage, questionable morals, do not romanticize this irl pls
notes_ i wanted to do something more interesting but I’m busy and about to start spring semester YET, MORE FICS COMING!!!!!!!!
♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 gong yoo
✰ Index (+ fics here)
ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
The would’ve could’ve should’ve constantly popped up in your head. Wonder how different your life could have been if you had grown up with a normal family.
As a child you experienced fear whenever your parents held parties, usually there was the dead body of a man drowning in blood. Enemies of your father were brought to said parties and faced a violent ending.
With the odds against your favor, it was your mother who suffered the same destiny because of your progenitor’s bullshit.
He gave you too much independence, but what he had done to you over the years, made you a lonely, selfish, disobedient woman.
You could’ve stolen some money and lived a life away from everything you knew. But the least he could do was to pay for everything your heart desired. One day you would be better off without him but for now, you endured.
The mysterious island he brought you to seemed nice. A luxurious private complex was all for you. The weird thing was that it had no windows, no balconies, and no way to communicate with the exterior.
Midday, you were supposed to watch some entertainment the island offered; a game they said.
“Why do we have to wear this crap?” You ask as your father hands you a golden mask. “We’ve talked about this. Don’t be a bitch and comply”
It seemed like a bird, maybe a hummingbird. But it was disturbing for some reason. He wore a robe and you thought it was just a normal game. Hence why your dress seemed like a little bit too much for the occasion.
You peeked your head through the door and you saw how many people sat and watched a big screen while a crowd of people in green tracksuits ran in opposite directions, soon many died and it was a bloodbath.
You nearly vomited.
“I won’t go in there”
“You’re expected to, now put that mask on be a good daughter,” he said grabbing your forearm you tried to move away but he placed more pressure.
“Disturbs among VIPs are not allowed” a pink guard came into vision.
He had to be a man, tall and imposing.
“My apologies, I was just telling my father I won’t watch the games tonight” you firmly say.
“Don’t be stupid, y/n. Not when I’ve spent millions on this” You shrug and he was about to slap you when the pink guard pulled you backward to avoid the slap and another figure stepped in.
“What is going on in here?” A much deeper voice spoke, the man wore a dark suit and black mask. He must’ve been the frontman.
“This stupid child won’t go inside and watch the games” You can feel both the guard and frontman eyeing you. Suddenly you felt naked in the strapless black dress.
The frontman pats your father’s back and calls him by his name, making you realize he knows him, perhaps they’re friends.
“Let your child be. If she doesn’t want to watch, she doesn’t have to. 004, escort her back to her complex” The guard nods and indicates you to follow him.
With one last look, you see and hear your father cursing, entering the room. And that imposing frontman, standing there, watching you behind his mask.
…
For the rest of the day, you are left alone. At night, you decide to make good use of the pool your complex included. Overall the place was dark, it had a lot of yellow and orange bulbs that illuminated enough, giving a futuristic but slightly contemporary dark space.
The pool was perfectly warm and it was the only place with blue lights.
The memory of your asshole father hadn’t come into the picture ever since the morning. On the other hand, the masks of that pink guard and the frontman haunted you.
And then you heard something. Someone opening the principal door.
You stayed there, trying to remain completely quiet, hoping that the sound of the water would disguise the way you nervously breathed.
You closed your eyes for a second, and when you opened them again. You had him there; the frontman.
“You didn’t want to watch my games. Why is that?” He asks through the dark mask as if he hadn’t intruded. You remain silent, unsure of what to do. “Answer me”
“I didn’t sign up for that kind of entertainment when my fucking asshole father brought me here” you reveal, trying to sound cool. But the truth was that you wanted to run.
“He truly hates you,” he says, making you smir, nodding. “Yes, and I hate him as well”
“I can tell it had to do with the death of your mother…” his words make you react fast.
“Take that ridiculous mask off if you are going to put the name of my mother in your mouth”
In the mere silence, the only sound disturbing it, was his mask dropping to the floor, revealing an intimidating man.
Slick hair, deep eyes, sharp jawline. Handsome overall…
Still, you remain.
“I would like to describe what makes you so intriguing…”
“You’re just an old man with an old dick and set your naughty eyes on a young ass like me” you swear you see a tiny smirk on his face, which quickly evaporates.
“Smart girl…” you roll your eyes, your hands floating around the warm pool. And you shouldn’t be turned on by that nasty old man staring there, intruding and invading your privacy like nothing. But there was something dark and twisted that was making you feel naughty.
So you pushed yourself up by your shoulders and offered a full view of your naked body to the frontman.
What was happening? Certainly unsure…
He watched deliberately, almost as if he was testing the waters and proving you were unhinged like him.
“I won’t be the one pleasing you tonight” Your confusion only grows after the door opens up again and you see a pink guard entering. By the height and greeting he offered to his boss, you knew it was the one who saved you from your father’s slap.
“What the actual fuck?…” the frontman only gives him a nod and you lay there, waiting until the guard is beside you.
You look up, confused, still holding yourself back with your elbows. His black boots push your feet to the side, inviting you to move around, aside from the pool.
“What? You’re gonna eat me up?” The guard remains silent.
“He will teach you manners” the frontman speaks, making you turn to look at him once again.
“I like being a brat, darling. It has always been this way…” Your cocky smile soon disappears after the guard takes his mask off and you encounter a younger handsome man.
He kneels and your eyes almost pop open because at that moment you realize what was actually happening.
The gloved hands of the guard lay on your open legs, making sure you lifted them, the heels of your feet almost touching your ass.
The guard eyes you and you almost shiver. He was almost asking permission to touch you. His touch was nice, even his gaze seemed welcoming.
You watch his head disappear between your legs and it’s over.
“F-fuck” you moan, arching your back while the man between your legs works his tongue in and out of your weeping hole.
“Ah- ah, I’ve never been this wet before” you admit shamelessly, groping your breasts while you end up making eye contact with the guard.
He is slightly older than you, but he’s disturbingly handsome.
“Make her cum, 004” the frontman speaks, seated straight in one of the couches across the pool, where he watches with ease.
You want to know the name of the source of your pleasure so bad.
His tongue flicked around your clit and it made you roll your eyes, throwing your head back and losing yourself in the pleasure and the water reflection on the black ceiling.
The moment his nose nudged your clit and his tongue lapped at your cunt harder than before, you came so hard your legs opened impossibly wider than ever.
You wanted to stay there forever.
…
Your heels clacked with each step through the city. A lot of people turned to look at you. In a tight tube skirt, a top with a squared neck and the most classy coat the city could see. At the subway station, you eyed a man looking at you. He was hot and you smiled at him, turning to leave the station.
He was following you. You could feel his steps behind you. You should’ve been afraid, but it only fueled your stomach with anticipation.
Making a turn in a filthy alley, you felt his big hand on your nape and pushed you against the wall.
You didn’t even object, you only pulled him closer to make a wet mess on his lips.
“You look too damn hot tonight,” he said in your lips.
“Take me to dinner and I might believe you” both of you chuckled.
You didn’t leave the island, neither did your father.
The first time you returned to Seoul was to get married. That pink guard who ate your cunt three years ago was now the recruiter of those deadly games, or how you preferred to call him; your salesman. And he was your husband.
“That time of the year is coming…” you say as he grabs your hand guiding you to a sandwich place. “I don’t want to go…”
“You don’t have to, I’ll go and say you are sick” Your husband ever the loyal, tried to soothe your worries, but it was in vain.
“I don’t want him to take it out on you, baby” Your salesman nods at your words, the uncomfortable tilt of his face making you aware of how uneasy the subject made him.
Whenever the Squid Game was about to begin, it was your task and your husband’s to recruit people.
Both in classy attires and with attractive features made it harder for the victims to deny the offer. Young people constantly whispered how much of a hot couple you two were while riding the subway or walking random streets.
“There’s three weeks left, darling. Let’s not let it get in our way yet” he says, opening the door of the sandwich place.
The smell of vinegar, freshly baked bread, and spices make your stomach growl and your husband notices it.
“As it seems you are very hungry…The usual?” You nod at him, urging him to lean and make it easy for you to leave a kiss on his cheek.
His cute smile makes you get hearty eyes.
You eye your husband as he orders the food and you wait by an empty table.
He’s loyal, devoted, hot as fuck, insane, sadistic and a sociopath. But in your eyes he’s perfect.
Nothing compared to him.
In the beginning, it was all pure carnal lust. He liked to watch how your husband, at that time 004 ravished you. Then he opted to make said guard look while he took you.
In-ho was cold and rough but gentle and a good listener.
He understood you, got rid of your father so that you could acquire all of his money and leave.
But you didn’t want to because you had him and 004. For months it all fell into a toxic routine. Your delusions of having two men infatuated by you grew to the point you felt love towards both.
But at the same time, it wasn’t the same love.
In-ho ascended 004 as a recruiter and you weren’t ready to see him go away. He would only visit the island whenever the games were about to begin.
Call it a fluke or bad news, but during those days you learned you actually meant nothing for the frontman. And before you could’ve experienced heartbreak, 004 asked you to leave with him as a recruiter.
It was at that exact moment when you comprehended nobody would care for you like him.
You were his since he pulled you away from your father’s slap.
Heavens smiled at you as the old man who was the remaining superior of In-ho at the time approved your petition of becoming a recruiter as well.
You felt no remorse as you left the island, without saying goodbye to In-ho. But over the years you would learn you would never escape completely from him.
It would always go back to being your salesman, your frontman, and you.
…
You stare at the album in your hands. A picture of you and your salesman on your wedding day. Nobody attended, Who would’ve? None of you had friends, family, or people who mattered.
A stranger took the picture. A stranger was witness to two insane humans celebrating their marriage.
And ever since, you believe it was the best decision of your life.
Your husband and you were… intense. From 52 weeks of the year, three were for recruiting people and one to notify the island. The rest, it was you and your man playing cat and mouse games with dauntless people who dared to try to uncover the roots of the Squid Game and everything behind.
48 weeks to cherish your husband, let him fuck you with his favorite gun, and then shove it in your mouth until you were sobbing from pleasure and committing crimes under the excuse of protecting your people.
Any morals you carried were washed away as soon as you married.
But you wouldn’t change it. With your father gone and in the arms of the man you loved, nothing could possibly hurt you.
Not even that man leading the island you hated so much.
…
At some point, you thought your daily life was actually the bubble you lived in, while the short annual visit to that island was actually your reality. Walking on the same grounds where your father’s corpse was rotting wasn’t a pleasant reminder. Even less when you were forced to separate from your husband.
Both of you exchanged looks when a familiar pink guard stepped between you and him.
“Our frontman has requested to only receive you” the modulated voice was directed towards you.
“It’s gonna be okay, dear,” you say to your salesman, whose discontent was more than evident.
Normally, he had the right to feel superior because he was able to taste power over ordinary people. But when it came to being just a messenger for his boss, having to allow his wife to go where of course he didn’t want, was torture.
“You’re smart, don’t let him get under your skin,” your husband said in your ear, before standing straight, hands behind his back while he offered one of his signature feigned smiles towards the guard.
Under that confident stance, you could see a worried man.
But he was right, you were smart.
The smell of the whole place was indescribable, but intoxicating, in the best possible way. You remember that as the only good thing, as stupid as it sounded.
The dark halls are long, slightly illuminated by the warm yellow lights you remember very well. Time seems to pass slower than it appeared because the walk towards an office you knew so well felt eternal.
But finally, the guard stopped and opened the door for you.
Let the games begin…
It was just the same as the last time you were in there.
In-ho was seated, drinking of course.
“How’s marriage life?” His voice seemed to sound even deeper, he sounded more evil.
“Long time no see, darling. My marriage life has been perfect as usual”
“Good, it would be a shame if you had told me our recruiter can’t make you happy or fuck you properly” You roll your eyes, pacing towards him with ease. You offered a brief massage on his tense shoulders, feeling how he relaxed after your touch. It was then that you decided to lean and whisper in his ear.
“Relax, In-ho. You were the one who wanted me gone. You set the spark between my husband and me, remember?” He closed his eyes, sipping the remaining of his drink.
“Stop talking and use that pretty mouth for something useful instead” he grabbed one of your hands and pushed you to the floor, making you sink into your knees.
His big hand trailed your jawline and harshly made you look at him in the eye.
He looked tired, but he still got something.
“I won’t complain, In-ho. You can use me…” of course you would not say no, the first time he pointed a gun to your forehead and promised to torture your husband, so you wouldn’t commit the same error twice.
“Atta girl…”
And with that, you tried to focus on the sounds instead of the view, because you wished it was your husband seating on that chair with his leaking cock fucking your mouth. But it was the frontman and you weren’t totally displeased by him.
…
The salesman opened the door, encountering his boss standing up and you on the floor with glossy eyes and a mess on your face.
“Ah, good you’re here. Hand me the statics…” he walks away, leaving you on your knees and tits out, feeling completely used. Your husband only eyes you briefly and you can tell he’s not pleased with the sight. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment and you rush to grab a cloth and clean any trace of cum. “Oh, and clean your wife, we got a little messy…”
The frontman puts his mask on and leaves the room after grabbing the folder your salesman handed him, making the room feel heavy.
You stand up, pulling up the straps of your dress.
“Are you alright?” Your salesman asks quickly. You sigh, nodding. “Yes, it’s the same every year��
“I fucking hate this. Next time, I’ll be witnessing…”
“What?” you question him shocked, dropping the cloth with cum stains.
“If I can’t do anything to stop this from happening, then I’ll be present” he thought it was a low blow, but he couldn’t bear leaving his wife and letting his boss manhandle her like a little rag doll.
Although that was what you’ve always been.
“He knows you hate this. He’ll try to take advantage and I don’t want you to get in trouble” You could handle In-ho and his little whim, but if you lost your husband, it all be over.
All because that old man didn’t want you anymore but couldn’t let you go.
“Believe me, I’ll control myself just because I want to prove to him that I’m your husband” You hated to see the facade of confidence fall from your salesman. He was always so cocky, arrogant and in control.
“He can fuck you once a year, but I am the one who has carved into your skin and will always claim you as mine”
And there he was. That was your man. You literally jump into his arms and he greets you with a desperate kiss.
“Once we collect all the money we need, we’re leaving, baby. Wherever you want, and you will always have the chance to show me off as your wife” you say placing his tie in place and after that, you kiss him dearly.
…
Hand in hand, you and your husband walk through the cloudy streets of Seoul. You have a brown skirt with wine-red flowers, a black top, and a coat along with some elegant heels. Your man wearing a dark grey suit and a strong hand holding yours.
“Do you like burgers?” You ask him as you wait for a cab. He only shrugs and smiles at you.
“I like anything that has meat and vegetables”
“True. It’s just that I really liked having burgers back at home. That’s what I want to have as my first meal with you” you admit shyly, feeling like a little girl giving immature declarations.
“Anything will be fine, sweetheart” you pout, accommodating his tie.
“I’m gonna miss watching you in suits every day” your husband smirks.
“Your loss is my luck. I’ll get to see you in sundresses and leggings whenever” you laugh.
“You’re so naughty, dear” For some seconds, you forget you are in the middle of the street, with two hours left in Seoul and billions of money traveling in a clandestine plane.
“One more task keeping up appearances, doll. Just one more…” he says returning to his serious self, opening the door of the cab for you.
“Just one more…” you mumble.
Soon you two are waiting a couple of blocks away from the airport. Where an ex-cop parks his car and hops off.
“Nice to meet you in person…” you say taking his hand and then your husband doing the same.
His name is Hwang Jun-ho and he is the brother of the frontman.
One thing led to another and after one call, you and your salesman offered to give details of where the island you so much hated was.
“We’re gonna need a little favor, though…” the young man eyes you and your husband. He finds the two of you odd, deserving of each other but there was something behind the aura you two held that made him thoughtful. “What kind of favor?…”
“We need you to erase any documents that could identify me and my husband.” your salesman speaks as you softly take his hand and caress his long fingers.
“I can erase any license, passport, identification card, and bank cards. However… your birth certificate will always be available in the system” Jun-ho says, meaning the last part to be meant for your husband. He only tilts his head.
“That won’t be an issue”
“Then we have a deal,” the ex-cop says, extending his hand.
You gladly shake it, feeling an immense wave of serenity flowing through your entire being.
“You’ll have our call as soon as we get out of Korea” With that, destiny is sealed.
You and your husband burn your business attires and enter the airport under the names of a diseased couple who lived in the 1960s in Seoul. You catch his smile as you two wait to board the plane that will lead you to a new life.
Away from the games, the island, and that man. You never much of him, In-ho was the cause of your aches every year. But as you leave with your husband you realize that frontman was also your savior. Who handed you your freedom, the love of your life, good sex and was whom you had just sentenced to death.
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Taglist: @stargirl-mayaa @hannawigdahl @angela075905 @dynaloy @crispybaguettes @dorayakissu @greensunflowerjuna @mackythoughts @nightdark-dreamdark @ilovethe141 @rafecamsgirlll @space-girl-16 @laurenbenoit70
#gong yoo x reader#squid game x you#squid game x reader#squid game x y/n#squid game#gong yoo#the salesman#the salesman x reader#the recruiter#recruiter x reader#salesman x reader#hwang in ho x reader#in ho x reader#frontman x reader#the frontman x reader
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GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day twelve.
Hands + Mirror Sex (2.2k words)
summary: Your wandering eyes lead you to the best show you have ever seen.
warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, chocking, mirror sex, unprotected sex, creampie.
The Austin GP turned out nothing like you expected it to. Sure, the car didn’t have the pace and the McLaren wasn’t the quickest car this weekend, but that last lap was really what made your blood boil. How was that even fair? It wasn’t, and you knew Lando wasn’t going to be his bubbly self after how that turned out.
You saw it coming; he was usually down for the tiniest things, but this? You were already thinking a million things to take his head off the result, at least for a little while.
He got out of the car, and you could see he was disappointed, taking his gloves off and walking with his head down as he made his way to the garage.
“Lando,” you softly called him as you got close to him. He still had his helmet on, so you couldn’t see any more than his eyes, which didn’t look as happy as they did before the race. “I’m really proud of you, despite everything, you did the best you could out there.”
He let out a sigh as he took his helmet off. Lando was pissed, and so was everyone else. “Yeah, didn’t really have a choice there.” He said, ripping the balaclava off his head.
His hair bounced a bit as he did so, which usually made you smile and want to run your hand through his curls, but the way his hands looked as he fisted the material had your eyes fixated there, and you didn’t even notice at first, but as soon as you did, you tried to look back at him as he vented a little, but he just looked so good you just couldn’t look away. Suddenly, you forgot what you were talking about.
“It was a little messy, definitely not what we were hoping for. Max clearly went way too hard and also gained an advantage with it, but I guess don’t make the rules. I tried, but he went off the track too, so I didn’t have a choice. I don’t know what they were expecting me to do, really.” Lando let out another loud sigh as anger stained his words, clearly waiting for you to say something back, but when you were silent for a little too long, he followed where your eyes fell, a smirk creeping on his face when he realised. “Are you listening to me?”
“Huh?” You looked up at him, feeling bad for not getting a single word that left his mouth. “Yes, you did great, honey.” You gazed up at him for a moment, your face burning in embarrassment, but that was long forgotten when your eyes fell to his hand again — this time, the one holding the hemet.
Lando stepped closer to you, forcing you to look at him as he whispered, “I guess you’ve got other things in mind. Good, you’ll help me forget about this shitshow later.”
With that, he walked away, ready to take on his post-race duties. Now you were embarrassed.
It took a good while for them to finish everything up; with media and the debrief, you were left to wait for him in his room. The wait felt like hours, especially knowing what you signed yourself up to with your wandering eyes.
Finally, you saw him come through the door and quickly grab his things. “Let’s go, we’re getting out of here.” He looked oddly calm and collected as he handed his hand out to you, which you happily took.
“So what was the debrief? Is the team going to say something?”
“Oh, so now you wanna talk about it.”
You playfully punched his arm with your elbow as you both left the small room, walking to the car that would take you back to the hotel. The ride back was pretty normal, just talking about random things and what you would do before heading to Mexico; it wasn’t until the hotel door closed behind you that his demeanour completely changed.
He pushed you against the door as his things fell to the ground, capturing your lips in a needy kiss. “Couldn’t even vent properly cause your mind was too focused on my hands,” he said into the kiss, biting your bottom lip softly before kissing you again.
All you could do was kiss him back as low whimpers scaped your lips. But then you felt one of his big hands caressing your tummy, slowly making its way up to your neck. Your heart nearly stopped beating when he wrapped a hand around it, putting a little pressure as the other one fell on your bum. It was simply impossible to stay quiet in that moment.
“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered before locking eyes with you.
You could feel a red tint spread across your face at how much that turned you on as a burning feeling grew between your legs. “No,” you said, following his lips once again.
He was smiling against them, applying a little more pressure as he guided you into the room. Instinctively, your feet were walking towards the bed, but with a sudden squeeze, he stopped you.
“Not tonight. I didn’t know you enjoyed them so much, sweetheart, you deserve a show.”
Lando kept walking until you made it to the bathroom, only stopping when you were both in front of the big, full-sized mirror. He turned you around so you would face yourself, but kept his hand around your neck.
“Undress for me, baby.”
You did as he said, slowly taking every piece of clothing as your eyes fixated on his big hand, veins prominent as he held you. His other one was exploring your body as it lost the layers, squeezing every inch of your skin.
His eyes never left your face; he was truly enjoying your expression change as he got closer to your folds, your teeth capturing your lower lip as he reached your pussy.
“Is this what you’ve been thinking about all day? Mhm? My hands making you feel good?”
All you could do was nod, your clit already invaded as he played with it slowly. He teased you for a couple of minutes, until a desperate moan made him apply more pressure and dip a big finger in your dripping hole. It always felt good, of course it did, but there was something about watching him do it, his finger disappearing inside you, glistening in your arousal.
Lando got closer to your ear — so close to you you could feel his warm breath hitting your skin. “This is what I get to see every night under me. Do you like what you see, love?”
“Uh huh,” you replied, your mind too focused on your pleasure to form any words.
His pace quickened as he inserted another finger, making everything intensify by a thousand, your legs almost giving in. You caught a glimpse of his face, his gaze so deep and immersed in making you come. This almost made you crumble, until he stopped.
“On your knees,” he demanded. You were a bit confused by this, but who were you to deny him? You were about to turn around to face him, thinking he was asking you for a blowjob, but you saw him shaking his head in his reflection. “You’ll be facing yourself. Like I said, you deserve a show.”
You went on your knees and watched him undress himself, his eyes locked with yours as his clothes fell to the ground somewhere in the over-the-top hotel bathroom. You were almost salivating at the sight, and you knew he was teasing you by how slow he was being, but you were so desperate to feel something that your fingers found your needy pussy. Oh but by the look that he gave you, you knew he didn’t like that one bit.
“Not so fast, baby.” He said it with an extremely low voice, and your hand immediately fell to your thigh.
Lando kneeled behind you, now completely naked, as he grabbed the hand that just seconds ago was buried between your folds. His eyes found yours again, and without hesitation and an intense look, he took your wet fingers in his mouth, licking them clean with a moan. God, was he trying to kill you?
“You tend to get so desperate, my love. You know how much I hate that.”
“S-sorry.”
“Shh, it’s okay. Just let me do the work.”
You saw him grab his cock, or at least you knew he did, but his reflection was hiding behind you. With a few tugs, he guided it to your pussy, running his head through your folds a few times to take some of your wetness.
“Ready?” He asked, and you just nodded. Once he was perfectly positioned behind you, he sunk his cock into you, loving the way your mouth fell open as he was buried deep inside you. As he gave you some time to adjust, his right hand went back to wrap around your neck, giving it the right amount of pressure. “You’re gonna love the view.”
He started slamming into you, slowly at first, his arm wrapping around your torso to keep you stable. You nearly couldn’t believe your eyes; the way he was holding you, his veins more visible than ever, his pretty face contortioning in pleasure, his cock disappearing inside you. He was right, what a show.
It was almost too much, he was hitting all the right spots. Moans, whimpers, and skin snapping against yours echoed in the bathroom, your hot bodies steaming as he fucked you from behind, making the mirror in front of you somewhat foggy. But you needed more.
“Lando,” you whimpered.
He hummed in response, and almost as if he knew exactly what you were asking for, his fingers found your clit, rubbing small but quick circles. This almost made you lose balance, but it was so worth it.
You couldn’t help your eyes closing for a moment as your mind got so lost in pleasure you thought you were about to pass out, but with a hard squeeze on your neck, he demanded you to open them, finding his deep, dark gaze.
“I said you would be watching yourself, remember? Keep ‘em open for me.”
You nodded as your eyes explored the image in front of you, your mesmerised stare encouraging him to go faster and harder. With his mouth positioned right beside your ear, you could hear every little sound he was making, moans and senseless words through gritted teeth as he tried to keep it together.
He wasn’t gonna lie; even though he made it clear he wanted you to enjoy the show, he was enjoying it just as much, if not more. You had never done it in front of a mirror, but now that he knew what that was like, he would definitely be suggesting it more.
It was like he couldn’t get enough of you; he always got to see you take it, but this? This was different. He was slamming you so hard he knew he wasn’t gonna last long, so he had to make sure you were close.
“Gonna cum for me? Gonna watch yourself cum in my cock?”
“Yes, please.” You were begging at this point. You were also close, and with him applying more pressure on your clit, that feeling only got more and more intense. You were sure your knees would be bruised by the end of this, but that was the least of your worries as you felt you were about to snap. “So close,” you whimpered.
“Good.”
With a few more thrusts, you fell over the edge, the loudest scream he has ever heard leaving your lips. His fingers left your pussy as he felt you combulsing against him, wrapping his arm around you again to stop you from falling forward.
You didn’t care anymore, you closed your eyes in pure euphoria as your orgasm hit you, your hand falling in the mirror in front of you and leaving a print in it. The sight before him and the way your pussy was pulsing around him brought him to a sweet release, pumping into you a few more times before his hot cum spilled inside you.
Heavy breaths took over the bathroom. You slowly opened your eyes to meet his, the view almost making you horny again.
“Did you like what you saw, sweetheart?” He asked, this time using the sweetest voice known to man. Anyone that heard him mutter those words would never imagine what he was truly asking you.
“Yes. We have to do this again.” Breathless words escaped your lips.
“You haven’t even seen the best part.” As he said this, he slipped out of you, your combined fluids dripping out of you. Both of you stared at the way your thighs got tainted with them, and you almost felt embarrassed at how his stare lingered for a little too long. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” And with a kiss to your temple, he stood up and made his way to the shower, turning it on and making sure the temperature was right.
He came back to you a few seconds later and handed out his hand to help you get up, his arms were holding you as you made a mental note to get a bigger mirror for your shared room back home.
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#lando norris#giannaln4 kinktober#lando norris x reader#ln4#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando norris imagine#lando norris smut#lando norris x you#f1#formula 1#lando norris x y/n#lando norris oneshot#lando norris one shot#ln4 fluff#ln4 fic#ln4 imagine#giannaln4 writes
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The Deli
Summary: You saw Five and Lila cheating and end up in a random train station. As a Diner caught your eye you couldn't believe what or rather who was waiting for you inside. Summary: You saw Five and Lila cheating and end up in a random train station. As a Diner caught your eye you couldn't believe what or rather who was waiting for you inside.
Here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm
"You have no idea what most of the Fives in here would do for you"
I stumble out of the train, almost tripping over the edge. This can't be, he would never. I hate him, I never thought that I could do this but I do. My heart was shattered, it felt like it was being torn out of my torso and ripped in thousand parts. How could he do this to me? How could he do this to Diego? I have no idea where I am, or rather when I am. But I didn't care I just walked along the train station. My heels clicked with every step they took. The sound echoed with every thud on the white tiles.
I caught them. Five was missing and in my head there where millions of horrible ideas what could be happened to him. I can't believe I worried. We gone through so much shit and he shattered everything just like it was nothing. I traveled so far with these damn trains, no idea how I could possible come home again, just to caught them kissing each other. These assholes! Slowly the sadness turned into anger and every step I take gets louder.
In the distance I see red light reflecting on the floor. I swear to god if this is a trainstation-stripclub I trow myself on the rails. Seeing so much today what I couldn't believe makes me getting the wildest ideas, expecting anything but normal. I step closer and what I see is a Diner. Without hesitation I enter. I would kill for a chocolate croissant and a nice cup of coffee right now. But as soon as I entered everything went silent. Even a fly could be heard.
As shocked as they were as shocked I was. "This can't be", I mumble to myself. Every pair of eyes, which stared me down, were his. The Five which was now coming out of the back, let his tablet fall onto the ground. The sudden loud noise made the other ones fall out of their trance. "Y/n?", a few said, but others were just looking. "She's mine!", one of the Five's screams. Others were already talking him down. Another was punching a different Five and two got them apart. Without hesitation one five stood up and walked towards me. "I am sorry it's been a long time since they seen you", he says confusing me even more. "i...I what the hell is going on?", I ask, not believing what I saw standing infont of me.
"You just kissed Lila and now you are talking with me as nothing has happened? And what is this here? A stupid joke?", I ask him outraged. "Oh no darling I am not the five you know. I am coming out of a different timeline, but wouldn't you like to sit as I explain?", he asks politely. Like it was the most normal thing I go to sit with him at one of the diner tables, ignoring the fact that at least twenty versions of my boyfriend were looking down at me. As we sit down the Five on the counter rushed to our table.
"The black coffee, cappuccino and the chocolate croissant will be on your table soon", he stumbles, while looking at me. "How...?", I begin to ask but he was faster gone than I could blink. I feel more comfortable now as I saw how the attention was no longer drawn to me. "Explain, now", I demand as I was staring the Five before me down. "Feisty, as I remembered you", he says. I can't help myself but smile a little bit. "Why are there so many of you? And why was the one so obsessed", I ask. He crocked his neck. "We are all different Fives, out of different timelines. Most of them lost their Y/n, that's why things got out of hand", he explained. "So your five cheated on you? That's new, none of us did that, guess a new timeline has formed. Why would he do that...?", he asks himself.
I was shocked, overdosed with unimaginable information. "So what happened to your Y/n?", I ask him, just releasing I went to far. "She died in a fight, Hazel shot her", he says. "Five over there, who said you were his. She killed herself", he explains some more. I can't believe what he was just saying. "I would never do such a thing", I say. "No. Yourself in this timeline wouldn't but the on in his did. It's the same with us, we are all the same but different at the same time. I would never cheat on you and that's the point", he looks down on the floor. "I will find him don‘t worry, he will pay for what he did", he says while my eyes get big. "No... no he's still my Five I...", I try to bring the words out of me.
"Darling...", he leans over the table looking me staring into the eyes. "You have no idea what most of the Fives in here would do for you. Every single one of us is better as this little small cocked asshole", he says. I get nervous and have trouble looking him into the eyes. "He doesn't have a small...", I try to say. "I know I know...", he interrupts me.
Let me know what you think in the comments!
#reader#smut#request#Five#Five Hargreeves#Hargreeves#TUA#tua#Five hargreeves#Diego#Five x reader#Five Hargreeves x reader#x reader#Five Har
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🥊 older brother!soonyoung vs. boyfriend!jihoon.
@choco-scoups -> "what do we think about brother's best friend jihoon, but your brother is soonyoung"
ⓘ cussing, good-natured sibling bickering, suggestive joke. headcanons under the cut.
🥊 jihoon's notes on surviving the kwon siblings .ᐟ
The Kwon siblings are sulky as hell. Jihoon had thought that Soonyoung was the king of brooding, but then he met you. If he weren't dating you, he might even be impressed. As it is, though, he can only focus on managing the two of you's moods. Sure, Jihoon is a little biased. He thinks you're cute when you get all pouty; it makes him want to pinch your cheeks and hold you until that frown is gone from your face. When it's Soonyoung, though, he's a lot more exasperated. "You're a grown man, Soon. Get over it," he might grouse— right before turning to a sullen you and asking if you want a kiss.
The Kwon siblings bicker. A lot. Jihoon doesn't have any brothers or sisters of his own, so he spent quite a bit of time worrying if the two of you were normal. He quickly learned that most siblings tend to butt heads, though you and Soonyoung tended to be a little more... over the top than the average pair. One too many times, Jihoon has been caught in between the two of you's screaming matches. His three-step plan to coming out unscathed is to 1) not take sides, 2) only step in if/when physical altercation occurs, and 3) try not to insult either of you. Even if he is inclined to believe that you're right, more often than not.
The Kwon siblings can be clingy. Before he was your boyfriend, Jihoon was Soonyoung's best friend. And so Jihoon had grown used to Soonyoung's insistences for meals out, Soonyoung's need to be responded to lest he thinks it's the end of the world. When it turned out that you were more or less similar, Jihoon could only shake his head and sigh to himself. He should have known what he was getting into. Really, Jihoon has the patience of a saint in balancing your overthinking and Soonyoung's peskiness. It's a whole love language, and Jihoon is fluent.
Soonyoung loves you. It's not something he says often. Call it the tendency of brothers to brush off emotion or downplay their own sentiments. But Soonyoung loves you in a ride-or-die kind of way, in an if-anything-happens-to-you-I-don't-know-what-I'd-do kind of way. Jihoon knows this. He knows it well. When you and Jihoon had started dating, Soonyoung had been fully supportive. He made a couple of 'jabs' here and there— "If you break their heart, I'll never forgive you!"— but Jihoon knew from the look in his best friend's eye, the set in Soonyoung's jaw, that it wasn't that much of a joke. Jihoon knows that Soonyoung trusting him with you is no small thing. He makes sure not to take it for granted.
You love Jihoon. You love Soonyoung. You would never— not in a million lifetimes— choose Jihoon over Soonyoung. Even though you've threatened bodily harm on Soonyoung more times than can be counted; even though Jihoon is everything that you could want and more. Blood runs thicker than water. Jihoon knows that, too. That's why he never makes you choose. He's content to share the spot of 'favorite person' with your brother, the same way that there's no one else in the world that he trusts more than you two.
+ When the three of you are able to get it together long enough to go somewhere without gauging each other's eyes out, it's those moments that Jihoon secretly adores the most. He sometimes falls quiet, letting you and Kwon fill the conversation at the table, and he thinks of the time you forced him to watch that one Disney movie. Looks like the princess was right; Jihoon is spoken for. Everyone he's ever loved is here, within these walls, at this table, and he couldn't be more happy about it.
✉︎ jayyy! i know you said i could "keep this for a while," but when the req features two people on my bias line.. well! (ᗒᗨᗕ)
› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao
#jihoon smau#jihoon imagines#jihoon x reader#woozi smau#woozi imagines#woozi x reader#soonyoung smau#soonyoung imagines#hoshi smau#hoshi imagines#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt imagines#seventeen imagines#── ᵎᵎ ✦ mine#── ᵎᵎ ✦ reqs#[ whenever i do brother x bf smaus i always go kinda insane over what to tag LOL ]#[ also: i got this req and couldn't stop giggling ab it days after ]#[ so i just had to. god ily soonhoon ]#[ ALSO: i miss writing ab woozi :( ahuhuhu ]
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Suburbia X
Peter Parker x Reader
Warnings: mentions of NON-CON, DUB-CON, blackmail, voyeurism, stalking, breeding kink, eventual violence, age gap, brief side of Bucky x reader, babysitter!Peter, mommy!reader
➥ banner by @maysdigitalarts | divider by @silkholland
➥ series masterlist
~
“Thanks for coming.”
That was what you finally said to Peter after you both had been sitting on your couch for what felt like hours. In truth, it was only about ten minutes, but the silence was so tense and heavy—and you were so nervous and terrified of the young man in front of you—that the time didn’t pass normally in your mind.
Peter wasn’t wearing his glasses today, and without them he looked beyond only twenty-three. Or maybe that was all in your head. Maybe the reveal of his true character and nature made him seem so much more intimidating…and in turn, older. His dark curls framed his face as he gazed at you, patiently waiting for you to say what he was no doubt eagerly waiting to hear.
“Well…” he ran his eyes over your face. “Over the phone I asked if this was about our talk, and you said sort of, so naturally I became curious.”
You nodded at that, glancing away from him and taking in the silence of your house. Your girls were asleep, and you envied them in this moment. You envied their innocence and their complete ignorance of what was going on around them and their own part in it. You would never in a million years tell them what you were about to put yourself through just to protect them and their quality of life, but you hoped they’d grow up to understand the lengths you would go to for them.
You swiped your tongue between your lips.
“I wanted to tell you face to face that you were right,” you finally said, looking at him.
Peter’s face was hard to read, but there was a noticeable glint in his dark eyes that made your heart stutter. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he straightened, and it made him appear taller. You felt so small and insignificant beneath his gaze, and you desperately tried to remember what you were doing and why you were doing it. Peter had seamlessly shifted the power dynamic—and in the worst way possible—and you desperately needed to have the upperhand again.
“When I chose to be a single mom…I did it with no regrets and because it was genuinely what I wanted.”
Peter leaned in a bit, and you spoke up.
“...and so…determined to prove something, I think that I never even really considered the possibility of more. Of more helping hands, of more comforting figures in their lives, of more…love that could be given to my girls,” you continued, looking between his eyes. “...and me.”
Peter wasn’t saying anything, and you felt a stab of panic, wondering if he saw through you.
“You were right. You are so good to them…and me, and it’s terrifying not only because it’s new but also because it’s you.”
You abruptly stood, turning away from him.
“You’re so much younger and I hired you and Peter, you have to understand,” your voice cracked as you stared at the wall. “You have to understand how I’m feeling because this makes me look and feel like some predator, like-.”
You cut yourself off when familiar hands took your arms, forcing you to face him, and you watched the way Peter’s expression softened with one look at your face.
“I know that I said some unkind things, but this situation is very tricky and scary and has the potential to really change my life in a way that can’t be undone or at the very least not for years and years to come-.”
“I know that,” he whispered, finally speaking again. “Trust me, I understand-.”
“You say that, but if this doesn’t work out, you're not the one who’s going to have to deal with the fallout. Do you truly understand how people will see me? It doesn’t matter that this was reciprocated. Cougar will be one of the nicer words I’ll be referred to as…”
Your words died in your throat as Peter gently shushed you, one hand coming up to graze your now tearful cheek. The way he looked at you told you that he believed everything you were saying, but you couldn’t be sure. He leaned in a tad, and on instinct, you turned your face away. Your gaze lowered to focus on the floor, and you felt Peter’s breath on your face as he sighed.
“No. You’re not the kind of woman to just jump into something like this, and I should have known that,” he whispered, more to himself than you. “I should’ve known that you would panic and freak out and follow your initial instinct of rejecting this in every way you can.”
The younger man rubbed your arms, hands gently sliding up and down over the fabric of your sleeves, and you shuddered.
“You’re smart about things, and it’s why I love you,” he murmured, making your stomach churn. “I should have thought about that, gone about this differently.”
You finally met his gaze, and your heart dropped to your stomach at the way he looked at you. It reminded you of that night—or what you could remember from it, anyway—and the morning after and the day at the restaurant. One of his hands tightened on your arm, and you swallowed at the position you put yourself in.
“...but you don’t understand what you do to me,” Peter chuckled.
It was light, and his teeth winked at you, and his eyes gleamed in a way that terrified you. It didn’t matter what you believed because Peter believed he was in love with you and was the one for you and was the best father for your girls. His mind was made up, and you felt that you should’ve accepted as such when he went through such great lengths to back you into a corner.
He handled this whole ordeal like a man with nothing to lose, and you supposed that in a way, that was true. In this scenario, you were the one with way more to lose. If this ever got out, you would be the villain in this story, and it was something that Peter had so eloquently thrown in your face.
“I don’t think I can say I regret confronting you like I did at the restaurant,” he confessed, his thumb brushing along your lip. “...but believe it or not, I didn’t take pleasure in putting things into perspective for you like that.”
So that was what he was calling it.
“I don’t take pleasure in hurting you in any way, even if it is only making you uncomfortable for a short while, but I needed to make you understand. Understand what you mean to me and what I would do to have you.”
When his lips gently brushed along yours, you let him kiss you.
“You don’t even know the things I would do for you—the things I have done for you,” he whispered into the kiss, and you couldn’t stop your form from trembling.
Peter noticed, and he made a humming noise.
“There are a lot of things for you to fear in this world, but now that we see eye to eye, I’ll never be one of them.”
You felt tears kiss your eyes as he tried to kiss you again, but spoke, effectively halting his movements.
“It’s not you I’m afraid of, Peter.”
A lie.
He seemed to understand what you were getting at, and he chuckled again. The dark-haired man pulled back some to gaze at you like you were so silly, and you hated how boyish that smile made him.
“You’re it for me, Y/N. Don’t you get that? Hmm?”
He held your gaze with his own dark one.
“Whatever comes of this, you’ll never have to doubt my loyalty. I’m going to be by your side when things inevitably progress into something more public, and I will make sure that whatever those…” he took a deep breath, lip curling over his teeth. “...women put you through, it will be worth it.”
His brows drew together as he fought to make you believe his words.
“I swear to you, now that it won’t hold a candle to coming home to me everyday. I’m going to make you so happy that whatever they have to say won’t mean a thing to you.”
Peter kissed you again then, deeply inhaling.
“I’m not going anywhere…”
You knew that those words—if nothing else—were true, and that was what you hated.
You stood with your arms around yourself as you watched Peter bring a suitcase into the house. You had prepared yourself for this, anticipating by all of his actions so far that Peter was not one to take things slow. Or at least, he didn’t want to take things slowly with you. Besides, if you were going to get your hands on every copy of that tape he possibly had, then you needed to be up under each other’s noses.
You needed him to be comfortable enough to bring his things—his laptop—into your house and not spare your proximity a second thought. When he caught your eye, you gave him a gentle smile, and while he was slow to return it, he eventually did. You took your time in nearing him.
“I know how nervous this makes you,” he told you, and he reached for your face. “It’s okay. We’ll be discreet for a while, and I’ll gradually make myself at home, and when the time is right…”
He trailed off, a secretive smile dancing on his lips at the thought of going public with you one day.
“Thank you,” you finally replied. “You don’t even understand how much that puts me at ease, Peter. Especially since I know how difficult this is for you.”
The look he gave you encouraged you to elaborate, and so you did.
“While I might not completely understand it just yet, you do love me, and it can’t be easy hiding a relationship with someone you care about so much.”
You noticed the way his face fell a bit at that, and you reached out to rest your hand on his arm.
“I don’t doubt that you want to navigate like any other couple in the world, but you’re being considerate of me and how this will affect me, and it means a lot.”
You stepped closer, and you watched Peter’s eyes drink in the action.
“You’re so good to me,” you whispered to him.
At that, he didn’t take his eyes off of you, and you played with the fabric of his sweater.
“...and I’m sorry that I let my fear and panic prevent me from seeing that before.”
You watched him take a deep breath, dark eyes still trained on you.
“It’s okay,” he quietly told you. “I forgive you for that, you don’t have to…”
He shook his head.
“Don’t apologize for it.”
You took his hand, and Peter was eager in threading his fingers through yours. He pulled you along up the stairs to unpack, and you told yourself that smiling in his face and kissing him with your eyes closed and telling him what he wanted to hear was the easy part. As you walked down the hall—Peter taking the lead—you reminded yourself that the hard part was only just beginning.
The real challenge would come in cohabitating with him like he was someone you cared about. The truly hard part of all this would come when he wanted to shower together and wrap his arms around you in bed and pull you against him like you were any average couple in love.
When he wanted to have sex with you.
This would go beyond just acting, but you would have to fully embody someone else—someone who cared about this man almost as much as he cared about you but was simply hesitant and nervous. You would have to take on an entirely new persona, and to make it all the more challenging, you had to do it in enough time to get what you needed before he wanted this relationship to go public.
…because you didn’t care what Peter said.
He wasn’t going to be content with keeping this between you forever.
You hadn’t missed the way he’d said Bucky’s name at that restaurant. There were more sides to Peter you hadn’t been privy to yet, and you hoped to God that you never would be, but you knew without a doubt that there was a part of Peter that wanted to show this entire town you belonged to him. Peter had never struck you as that kind of man, but then again, there were a lot of things about him that you absolutely would have never guessed.
As you helped him unpack what he brought over, you tried to keep your face even at the sight of clothes and toiletries and nothing else.
“I’ll have to tell Nat that I rehired you, of course,” you said to him, hesitantly glancing his way. “It seems silly to have you hide away any time she comes over.”
Peter found that funny for some reason, and he nodded.
“Of course. What are you going to tell her when she asks why?”
You stewed on that for a moment.
“I haven’t decided on that yet. Maybe I’ll tell her that I just really need you around, right now,” you eventually came up with, and it wasn’t a lie.
“Well, it’s not a lie,” he said, voicing your own thought. “You do need me.”
He leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of your neck, pausing in his unpacking to give you his attention. Peter’s intentions were pretty clear, and you didn’t doubt that said intentions had been on his mind from the moment you’d uttered the words ‘you were right’ earlier. While you knew that it would eventually come to that—probably as soon as hours from now—you weren’t mentally prepared. You couldn’t make your body do that, right now, and so you hurried to ruin his mood.
“I’ll have to tell Bucky the same…”
Your words had the desired effect, and you relaxed a little when Peter froze. He lifted his head from the crook of your neck to rest his chin on it, and while you had expected several things, you hadn’t expected the next words that came from his mouth.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for Mr. Barnes to come by here, anymore.”
You couldn’t stop your frown at that, and you pulled away just a little to turn and face him. Peter’s visage was entirely serious, and your frown deepened as you realized this. His expression didn't relent at all the longer you stared at him, and you were the one to break the tense silence.
“Peter…”
“I’m serious,” he confirmed, moving to finish unpacking the rest of his clothes. “Now that our relationship has evolved, I don’t want him coming by here anymore.”
“...but he’s my friend.”
The younger man gave a scoffing bark of a laugh at that, and you watched him run his hand through his thick curls.
“Friend,” he repeated. “Yeah, sure.”
The humor disappeared from his features by the time he looked at you again.
“He’s your friend because you didn’t want more with him. If you had, he wouldn’t be your friend right now, and we’d be having an entirely different conversation.”
You blinked at that.
“The kind that would involve me telling you to break up with him because I actually dislike sharing.”
His tone was serious, and you swallowed as he stared you down. Your lips parted, and you snapped them shut, thinking over your next words carefully.
“If I suddenly stop being friends with him, it’ll be very suspicious, Peter.”
He stared at you for what felt like too long, expression unmoving before his lips suddenly pulled into a small smile.
“While true, I imagine that him walking in on you coming around me would be even more suspicious.”
His words had you blinking furiously, but before you could respond to such a thinly veiled threat, you heard a familiar cry. The curly-haired young man didn’t hesitate to drop what he was doing in favor of checking on whichever twin had woken up from her nap first.
You were still tense from his parting words, and telling yourself that you needed to pick your battles wisely, you softly sighed.
You knew that you couldn’t just outright ask Peter to delete that video. It was so brazenly stupid that not only would Peter accuse you of not trusting him, but he might even suspect this whole thing was an act. He’d be right, of course, and it was why you had to convincingly get him settled into a comfortable lull.
…and you had to do that by committing to doing things you weren’t comfortable doing.
Your fingers clawed at your sheets as Peter’s tongue swiped between your folds and pressed itself into your core. Your girls were down for the night, and you knew that as soon as they were, and dinner was done and put away, Peter would waste no time in reaching out for what he felt now belonged to him.
“I haven’t stopped thinking about that night since it happened,” he’d murmured to you, humming at the taste of wine on your lips.
You’d concluded that you needed something in your system if you were to commit to this.
“The sounds you made, the way you tasted on my lips,” he’d breathed into your mouth. “The way you felt wrapped around me.”
He’d taken a reprieve on the stairs, just pinning you against the wall and kissing you. His hands hadn’t stayed in one place for long, touching every inch of you that he could, and when he seemed satisfied, he continued in pulling you towards your bedroom.
“Fuck,” he’d swore into the kiss the moment you were through the threshold. “I can’t wait to be inside of you again.”
The moments that followed bled together into one long endless pleasurable moment. You didn’t know if it was a relief or not that Peter was so skilled and so determined to make you come undone. You found it shockingly easy to surrender to his ministrations, unable to swallow down your moans and whimpers as he ate you out.
His tongue—so warm and firm—greedily lapped at you, and his fingers pressed into your thighs so hard that you didn’t doubt there’d be bruises in the morning. Your chest arched as you squirmed on the bed, and unable to help yourself, one of your hands found it’s way to his curls. Peter hummed against your cunt, and you knew that he liked that.
You confirmed as much when he reached up to find your other hand before forcing it to find a home in his hair right next to your other one. You were completely naked—Peter having wasted no time in getting your clothes off of you—but your nudity did nothing to cool you down. A thin layer of sweat coated your skin, and you absentmindedly recalled that Peter was only partially undressed.
It seemed that he only just remembered that too, and when he pulled his mouth away from you, you were ashamed of the stab of disappointment that tore through you. Your chest heaved with deep breaths, and you blinked as you watched him sit up before getting undressed.
He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he did, pulling his lip between his teeth as he rejoined you on the bed, a hand wrapping around your ankle. The wine in your system definitely helped you to relax, but if you were honest, it did more than that. Playing this part came to you easier than you anticipated, and that worried you a little. Maybe even scared you a little.
The younger man was gentle in running his hand up your leg, fingers dancing along your skin as he did so. His dark eyes appeared even darker if that were at all possible, and in this moment, it was evident that Peter cared about nothing more than he did the thought of being inside of you again.
Glancing down, you caught sight of his cock—erect and wet at the very tip and just waiting to fill you up.
“God, you’re beautiful,” Peter murmured, reaching for your face.
When he kissed you, you didn’t swallow down your hum in time, and your throat vibrated as it climbed out of your mouth and into the kiss. Peter’s entire body covered yours as he made himself comfortable on top of you, and—playing your part—you rested your hands on his back. His hands slid down to grip your thighs, pushing them apart to accommodate him, and you gasped at the feel of his length pressing against you.
Peter didn’t waste any more time.
Forcing your knees to hook over his arms, Peter lifted his hips and dipped his cock into you with one smooth thrust. A choked gasp left you, and your mouth was soundlessly parted as he started to thrust into you, hips snapping against yours every time. Your hands slid over him, unsure of what to grasp onto, and you couldn’t stop the small whimpers that started to fall from your lips.
Peter was fucking you with the assured confidence that he finally had you.
The strained grunts that left his mouth were in time with every push of his cock, and you were almost ashamed of how wet you were. Although, you supposed that it would only prove to help you in convincing Peter this was genuine. You were literally dripping around him, and you repeatedly reminded yourself that you were playing a part. That you were doing what you needed to do to earn his trust and get him to let his guard down.
Although that was easier said than done when his lips kept seeking yours out. Every kiss he gave you was hungry and heated, and you gasped again when his teeth nipped at the sensitive skin there. His toned chest repeatedly brushed against yours with every movement, and the gentle stimulation against your hardened buds made you shudder beneath him.
Every time he dipped his cock into you, the sound reached your ears…and his too.
“You’re dripping for me,” he whispered into the kiss. “I love how wet you are.”
You wanted to come up with something to say to reel him in more, but you were genuinely at a loss for words. It was hard to focus on anything besides the feel of him stretching you out.
“I’m so glad you came around, So glad,” he murmured, kissing you over and over and over again. “I really…I really didn’t want to do things the hard way.”
Your bed shook beneath you as Peter pounded into you, his curls tickling your skin.
“You may not believe that, but it’s true.”
He finally paused, holding himself inside of you as he pulled his head back some. He stared into your eyes—both of your chests heaving—and he looked between them as you struggled to catch your breath.
“I meant it when I said I don't take pleasure in hurting you. That’s not something that makes me happy,” he said through uneven breaths.
He slowly pulled his hips back before snapping them against you again, and you gasped. He didn’t take his eyes off of you as he fucked you, carefully watching your face.
“...but I’ll do what I have to. You understand?”
He didn’t give you time to respond.
“I’m smart, and you know it, and I know you know it.”
Your nails dragged along his skin as he thrust into you slowly, taking his time in pushing the length of him into you.
“So if all of this is just you playing at something, then you need to be prepared to play at it for the rest of your life,” he whispered to you, staring into your eyes. “...because you don’t know the things I’ve done to protect you.”
Your wide eyes looked between his at that.
“...and I’ll do worse to keep you.”
#peter parker x reader#peter parker#dark peter parker#dark!peter parker#dark!Peter Parker x reader#dark peter parker x reader#dark fic#marvel fanfiction#marvel imagine
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Last Christmas, I Gave You My A**
❅ summary: Last year, Gojo Satoru had been a good boy. Well, he’d at least tried. And in return, you gave him the one thing he’d been wanting for a long time. Your ass. That Christmas night was unforgettable for both of you, and you’d promised him that if he could manage to be a good boy again this year, you’d gladly give him what he wanted once more. But could your boyfriend really pull it off? Would he follow to the rules and earn his “dream ass” this Christmas, or would he mess things up like always and end up on the naughty list?
❅ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader
❅ word count: 5.1k
❅ warnings: +18 Minors Do Not Interact +18 modern au, naughty gojo is trying to be a good boy for reader, mature language, gojo is doing the "jingle bell rock dance," mean girls fan gojo, use of pet names, teasing, kissing, santa-elf roleplaying, dom/sub dynamic (reader is the dom hehe), oral sex (only f receiving because gojo been a naughty boy this year!), anal fingering, using handcuffs, cowgirl, unprotected sex, anal sex, needy gojo (i love when men beg), pussydrunk gojo
❅ a little note: gojo is so silly and boyfriend material hehe
Entering December officially means it’s time to dive into Christmas preparations. You had a million tasks to handle, especially since you were dating a Christmas-obsessed boyfriend, making everything needlessly extra. Right now, you were planning this year’s Christmas.
Or rather, Gojo wasn’t even letting you speak.
“Alright, now that we’ve finalized the menu, let’s move on to this year’s tree decorating theme. Last year’s snow theme was fantastic, but we have to outdo ourselves every year,” your boyfriend said, scribbling ideas onto the notepad in front of him, completely lost in thought. You, on the other hand, were bored out of your mind, listening to him ramble. Suddenly, he looked up from the paper, his face lighting up with excitement.
“Oh, baby! I just had the most amazing idea!”
You chuckled at his enthusiasm. “Hmm, what’s on your mind?”
“I thought, why don’t we combine love and Christmas? We could do a red-themed tree! Oh, oh, oh! We could even paint the tree red! God, I’m such a genius,” Gojo declared as he started furiously jotting down his brilliant ideas.
“How exactly do you plan on painting the tree red, love?” you asked.
“Oh, that’s the easiest part. Just trust me. This year is going to be the best one yet,” he replied confidently.
When it came to Christmas, this man turned into a completely different person. Normally, Gojo couldn’t even be bothered to take notes, but during the holiday season, he meticulously planned every detail and somehow managed to assign you tasks in the most efficient way. If only every day could be Christmas.
“Well, now that we’ve somewhat handled the tree situation, it’s time for the most important task of all!” His gaze shifted to you, and a wide grin spread across his face.
Oh, you knew exactly what he was talking about.
“Toru, I already—”
“CHRISTMAS GIFTS!!!”
Oh, God… This man truly had no sense of subtlety when it came to gifts.
“You’re such a child, Toru.”
“Oh, come on, baby. Gifts are the best part of Christmas! And besides, you don’t have to be a kid to love presents.”
He wasn’t wrong at this one because you also got very happy when you received gifts.
Gojo’s smile grew even bigger as he looked at you with an excited twinkle in his eye. “So, what did you get me?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, Toru? If you had listened to me, I would’ve told you that I already got your gifts. You sent me your list a month ago.”
“Upsiee… Did I really?”
You rolled your eyes. This man had a way of driving you insane. “Yes. Yes, you did.”
“Come on, you know how long I’ve wanted the Super Mario Express Train LEGO set. Remember…”
“Oh, here we go again,” you muttered. He must have told you this story a thousand times by now. The even crazier part? You had been there to witness it firsthand.
That day, he stood in line for four hours just to get that train set. And because he was terrified of being alone, he dragged you along with him. When the doors finally opened, he grabbed your hand with one hand while shoving past children with the other. They had only stocked four of those sets, and according to Gojo’s calculations, there was only one left by the time he reached the shelf. Just as he grabbed the last box, a small child grabbed it at the same time.
You’d seen him lose his mind before, but that moment might have been the most terrifying. He shouted, “It’s mine you brat!” at the kid while you begged him not to fight with a child.
“And in the end, as you know, I let that little brat have it.” He crossed his arms, pouting. “I knew I shouldn’t have listened to you that day! Ever since then, every time I try to get the set, it’s always sold out. But luckily, my beautiful, perfect girlfriend must have found it for me, seeing as how she’s glaring at me to shut up right now.”
He was right again. His dramatics had made you desperate for him to stop talking.
“My bank account might’ve taken a little hit because of you,” you admitted. The list of gifts he’d sent you had definitely put a dent in your savings.
He waved dismissively. “I’m worth every penny, baby.”
He really was.
“You’re lucky that even tough you were naughty this year, I still got you those gifts.”
He got up from where he was sitting and came over to where you were leaning against the kitchen counter. “You know you like me being naughty.” He closed the distance, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Because if I were a good boy…” His lips trailed from your forehead to your cheek. “I wouldn’t fuck you in ways you couldn’t even dream of.” His lips moved to your neck, leaving you breathless.
“Toru…”
“Yes, baby?” he replied, his voice low.
Barely above a whisper, you managed, “Don’t tease me.”
Of course, he did the exact opposite, kissing and licking the softest spot on your neck. “What happens if I don’t? Do I get on the naughty list of the sexiest Santa in the world? If I know that Santa well, I think she’ll still give me whatever I want. Especially…” His large hands gripped your hips and gave them a soft squeeze. “The gift I want most.”
You obviously knew what he wanted most. Even on his gift list, he’d written, “MY DREAM ASS” surrounded by exclamation points and hearts. Could he make it any more obvious?
Last year, you’d tried anal for the first time. Honestly, in your three years together, you didn’t understand why you’d waited so long. Knowing how badly Gojo had wanted to fuck your ass, you’d given him the best Christmas gift of his life, even though he’d been a very naughty boy that year.
And my God, the two of you had the best sex of your lives.
You’d done it a few times since then, but Christmas was special to Gojo, and the sex you had on that day was always more passionate, especially when his big cock was stretching your tight asshole.
When you saw “your ass” at the top of his gift list this year, you’d laughed out loud. You knew he’d write it, but this time, it wasn’t going to be so easy for him to get it.
Because naughty kids couldn’t always win.
“Don’t be so sure of yourself, Toru.” You cupped your boyfriend’s face in your hands. “Rumor has it Santa won’t give you the gift you want most because you haven’t been a good boy.”
“Huh, nonsense! She always gives me what I want.”
You let go of his face and adopted a serious tone. “Careful, love. If you push your luck any further, not only will you miss out on your favorite gift, but you might not get anything else either!”
Finally realizing you were serious, Gojo’s eyes widened in shock. “W-What? Baby, please… You’re the most amazing, stunning, sexy Santa in the world with the softest, most perfect ass. You wouldn’t do this to me.”
“Try me.”
Dropping to his knees, he clasped your legs and pouted dramatically. “I can be good! Please, please! I’ll do anything you want. I don’t want to be a naughty boy anymore. I’ll do whatever Santa wants. All I want is the number one gift on my list.”
A victorious smirk spread across your face. Your plan was working perfectly. “Well, since you insist…” You pulled out a red piece of paper labeled “Gojo Satoru’s 4 Tasks for Being a Good Boy.” “You know I hadn’t given you my gift list yet.”
His eyes sparkled with excitement as he stared at the paper in your hand. “Yes, yes, baby. Whatever you want, I’ll get it. I don’t care how much it costs. Consider it done.”
You laughed at how clueless he was about what he was agreeing to. “I’m not sure these are exactly items to buy… but I’d say there’s plenty of work for you to do.” You handed the paper to Gojo, who eagerly unfolded it, only to have his jaw drop in disbelief.
“Baby, what is this?”
“Oh, I’m sure the title explains it, but if you can’t read—”
“Don’t worry, I can read just fine. But what the hell is this?”
The consequences of not being a good boy this year.
“Well, I thought about it, and as the most amazing, stunning, and sexy Santa in the world, I created a special fast-track good-boy program just for you. This way, even if you haven’t been good this year, you still have a chance to earn the gift you want most. Last year, you got it easy, but this year, you need to complete a few tasks to make your Santa happy.”
Still kneeling, Gojo stared at the list before slowly standing and looking at you with wide, incredulous eyes. “Are you trying to torture me?”
“No. I just think you’ve gotten too used to getting everything your way.” Rising onto your tiptoes, you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Remember this, Satoru: if you want to earn the most precious things, you have to be a good boy.”
When you pulled back, you caught sight of his flushed cheeks. No matter how dominant he usually was (especially in bed) your occasional moments of control never failed to fluster him. And you found it irresistibly cute.
“Sweetheart, did you really think a lot while preparing this list?” He glanced at the first item and read aloud: “Task 1: Apologize to the kid you fought with at the LEGO store.” His expression turned sour. “God, how am I supposed to find that kid? And there’s no way I’m apologizing to that little brat.”
“You’re lucky I ran into the kid and his mom when I was getting your LEGO set. Surprisingly, he remembered me and had a lot to say about you. After cursing you out, his mom insisted her son deserves a genuine apology.”
Gojo scoffed. “What a bitch.”
In a warning tone, you said, “Watch it, Satoru, or you won’t get what you want at all.”
Realizing his mistake, he looked at you with apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry…”
“Anyway, I took her number and promised you’d deliver a proper apology.”
“Fine. Give me your phone, and I’ll call her right—”
“Oh no. If you think a phone call will cut it, you’re dead wrong, Toru. I’ll send you her number, and you’ll arrange to meet them somewhere nice. Apologize to the kid properly—maybe buy him a LEGO set or treat them to a meal. It’s up to you. But by the end of the day, I want to hear from her that you’ve apologized appropriately.”
Gojo was not pleased. Apologizing was one of his least favorite things to do, and now he had to do it to the kid who took the LEGO set he wanted most.
“Fine, I’ll do it. I’ll apologize to that brat. But only… only for your ass.”
“That’s not the only task on the list, Toru.”
He rolled his eyes and read the second item: “Task 2: Take an unforgettable Christmas photo. Must include: 1. Gojo Satoru must be naked!!!! 2. Use a Polaroid camera. 3. Showcase a Christmas theme (Get creative ♡).” He smirked at you before continuing. “So, uh, what exactly is this photo going to be used for?”
This time, it was your turn to blush. “That’s… not important.”
Of course, you planned to use it for a little personal pleasure during lonely moments.
Gojo’s knowing laugh made your cheeks burn brighter, but he moved on to the next task: “Task 3: Perform the ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ dance from Mean Girls on Christmas Eve.”
“Lucky for you, I know how much you love Mean Girls. And I know you’ll blow that bitch Regina out of the water with your moves.”
“Damn right, baby. I’ll rock your world with my dace that night.” He gave you a quick kiss before reading the final task: “Task 4: Santa-elf roleplay. Costumes and props will be provided by Gojo Satoru’s amazing girlfriend.” Looking back at you with sparkling eyes, he said, “God, I’ve never wanted to be a good boy more in my life. I’m in. For the gift I want most, I’ll be the best boy Santa’s ever seen.”
“Alright, Gojo Satoru. Let the good-boy operation begin.”
“Hell yeah. Good boys are the best.”
Whether or not that was true would be revealed on Christmas.
⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆
Christmas Eve had arrived in the blink of an eye. You and your boyfriend had been preparing food together since morning. Over the years, it had become a tradition to celebrate Christmas Eve with dinner, followed by opening presents on Christmas morning and spending the rest of the day celebrating in bed.
That’s where the real Christmas magic happened.
Around 8 PM, after finishing dinner and before diving into your main Christmas fun, you thought some hot chocolate would be perfect. As you were preparing the drinks in the kitchen together, a warmth spread through you as a pair of arms wrapped around your waist from behind. Your boyfriend’s familiar scent, mixed with his cologne, sent shivers down your spine.
“So, are you ready for my spectacular show?” he whispered, planting a soft kiss on your neck.
As you topped the mugs with marshmallows, you replied, “I think this might be the best Christmas night of my life.”
“I’ll do my best to make sure you never forget it. Like I promised, I’m going to be a good boy.”
Gojo was really taking this seriously. He had already completed the first task successfully. Last week, after getting the number from you, he reached out to the mom of the kid he had fought with at the LEGO store and arranged to meet him to apologize. Somehow, by the end of that meeting, they had become buddies, and Gojo even brought the kid over to your house to show off his LEGO collection. You had no idea how that happened, but in the end, your boyfriend had gained a new friend.
“I have to admit, you really kept your word. And you even gained a new friend while trying to be a good boy.”
Gojo let go of your waist, took the mug you handed him, and began praising his new friend with excitement. “Baby, that kid is seriously cool. Okay, maybe not as cool as you, but I never thought I’d like him this much.”
Carrying your hot chocolates into the living room, you sat on the couch and took a small sip. Noticing Gojo’s gaze fixed on the gifts under the tree, you realized he was probably about to pounce on them if you didn’t stop him. “Toru, don’t even think about it! We always open gifts in the morning.”
Realizing his plan was foiled, Gojo gave you a pouty look. “But I want to open them. Especially the one I want the most.”
“Then finish your tasks, love.”
He took a deep breath before standing up and pulling something out of his pocket, trying to hide it from your view.
You knew what it was. Something you’d been dreaming of for a long time.
“Before I hand over this precious photo, I’d like to thank my best friend Suguru for helping me take it. He also helped wrap me in ribbon. Now, if you’re ready, on the count of three, I’ll show you the amazing photo you’ll be using for, well, your moments.”
“TORU!!!”
“1… 2… 3!” Excitedly, he flipped the polaroid photo toward you, leaving you speechless.
You knew you had a handsome boyfriend—Gojo was undeniably attractive. But this photo was on a whole new level.
He was wrapped in a large red ribbon, his hands and body elegantly tied. And yes, even his sizable cock had its own little red bow. On his face was that signature smirk, the one that screamed he knew exactly how sexy he was.
This might just be your favorite task yet.
“Judging by your reaction, I’d say you like it, baby.”
“I-I really do,” you stammered.
Gojo leaned in to press a long, wet kiss to your lips before pulling back, resting his forehead against yours. “Use it whenever you want. If you’d like, I can take a hundred more like this. I love being your gift.”
“Toru…”
“So, do I get my most desired gift after completing the last task?”
Overwhelmed by the moment, you closed your eyes before answering. “Yes. That was the plan, but did you forget your dance performance?”
Pulling back instantly, Gojo grinned. “Baby, get ready to watch the dance of your life. I’ve been secretly practicing every day while you were at work, and trust me, I’m better than that bitch Regina.”
His excitement made you smile. “I don’t doubt it for a second.”
“Okay, okay, now go to our bedroom and stay there until I call you! Don’t come out until I say so!” He practically dragged you off the couch, pushing you into the bedroom before shutting the door and disappearing.
You couldn’t help but wonder what kind of performance he had planned. He was clearly taking this seriously. He really wanted your ass. Not that it would’ve mattered—you would’ve given it to him anyway. But making him work for it was just too entertaining.
Especially since you had some great plans for the final task.
About ten minutes later, you heard him call for you. Stepping out of the bedroom and into the living room, you noticed the lights were off, save for the glow of your Christmas tree (which, yes, he had actually painted red). Suddenly, music began playing, and Gojo appeared in the middle of the room.
As “Jingle Bell Rock” played, he started performing the exact dance from Mean Girls. From the girls’ outfits to the arm movements to the hip sways—everything was identical.
You couldn’t hold back your laughter, and when Gojo caught sight of your joy, he smiled softly, clearly pleased to see you enjoying yourself.
Just like in the movie, the music suddenly cut out, only for Pitbull’s “Give Me Everything” to start playing. Abandoning all sexy moves, Gojo began doing ridiculous breakdance moves, leaving you doubled over with tears streaming down your face.
You were currently watching the world’s most absurd yet entertaining dance performance. Your boyfriend, dressed in a slutty Santa costume, was rolling around on the floor. Occasionally, his skirt would lift, revealing his boxers—an unexpected bonus to the show.
When the song ended, he struck a bizarre pose and froze. You burst into applause, running to him and jumping into his arms. Cupping his face, you pulled him into a feverish kiss.
You really loved this man. He was the only person who would do this for you. Not just to get the gift he wanted most, but if you looked him in the eyes and simply asked, he’d agree to anything. He could never say no to you.
As his arms wrapped around your waist, he pulled you even closer. Within seconds, you found yourself lying back on the couch as Gojo broke the kiss.
“Did you like it?” He rubbed his nose against yours, his warm breath grazing your lips.
“I loved it. It was incredible. That bitch Regina has so much to learn from you.”
“Damn right, yeah.” He pressed his lips back to yours, kissing you passionately, full of heat and excitement.
Lost in the moment, you let yourself be swept away, but then the thought of his next task broke through your haze. This time, you were the one to pull back from the kiss.
“T-Toru…”
“Hmm?”
“Are you ready for your final task?”
“The Santa-elf roleplay? Baby, I was born ready. I can’t wait to see your elf costume.”
Oh, it seemed he didn’t realize he’d be the elf.
“Toru, my love… I hate to break it to you, but you’re going to be the elf.”
“Excuse me?” He sat up abruptly, shocked.
“You heard me right.”
“But I’m already wearing the sexy Santa costume. I thought—”
You sat up from where you were lying, smirking mischievously at your boyfriend. “As the most beautiful, sexy Santa with the softest, ass in the world, if I’m going to give you the gift you want most, Satoru, I think I should be the one wearing this costume.”
You took his hand, nodding toward the hallway for him to follow.
His excited eyes locked on yours as you led him to your bedroom, and your heart pounded like it might burst out of your chest. You had never done something like this before. Normally, you loved letting him take control. But tonight, you were calling all the shots.
Once in the bedroom, you pulled out the elf costume you’d been hiding from him for weeks and handed it to him. “Go to the bathroom, change into this, and only come back when I call for you. The moment you walk into this room wearing that costume, you’ll be my little elf slave. So don’t even think about doing anything that might upset Santa. Got it?”
“Yes ma'am.” Gojo stared at you, mesmerized, before taking the elf costume and fake ears from your hands and heading to the bathroom. In the meantime, you took off your Christmas-themed pajamas and slipped into your sexy Santa costume. After putting on the hat, you lit a few new Christmas-themed candles to set the mood in the room.
Taking one last look at yourself in the mirror, you called out, “You can come in now.”
Within seconds, the door opened, and Gojo stepped into the room in the green elf costume, complete with the pointy ears. His eyes wandered from your chest, where the tight top accentuated your breasts, down to the skirt that barely covered your ass, and then to your legs.
You could already feel the heat of his gaze imagining all the ways he wanted to fuck you.
Standing next to the bed, you gestured for him to come closer. Like an obedient little elf, he followed your command and stood in front of you.
“I know how hard you’ve worked this year, my little elf. As you know, it’s Christmas Eve, and after midnight, we have gifts to deliver.” Your hands began tracing his chest. “But I also want to make sure my special elves get their rewards. As my best worker, it’s my duty to give you your gift.”
“I live to serve, ma’am.”
“Good. Now, what is the gift you want most, my little elf?”
Gojo swallowed hard. “I-I, uh…”
Your hands paused their movement and grabbed the lapels of his jacket, pulling him closer. “You what? Answer me, or you won’t get what you want.”
“Your ass, ma’am,” he blurted out.
“My ass, huh? Do you think you’ve earned it?”
With an eager voice, he replied, “I was naughty this year, but I promise I’ll give your ass the best attention it’s ever had, ma’am.”
His answer made your already wet pussy throb even more. But before he could fuck your tight hole, you had something else in mind for his talented mouth.
“The best attention, huh? Can you give the same to my wet pussy?”
“Absolutely, ma’am.”
“Then get on your knees, my little elf.”
Without hesitation, your boyfriend dropped to his knees, looking up at you, waiting for his next command.
“Lift my skirt.”
His large hands found the hem of your skirt and slowly raised it, revealing your bare, glistening pussy. You knew he was internally battling to keep his composure.
“Do you want to taste it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, his voice filled with longing.
You ran your fingers through his hair, gently stroking it before giving your permission. “Then do it.”
Without wasting another second, Gojo buried his head between your legs and began licking you.
His tongue traced small circles around your clit, making your legs tremble with each pass. Your hands gripped his hair tighter, pulling him closer. You wanted more, needed his tongue to explore every inch of you.
“F-fuck… suck it!” Normally, you’d remember to say “please” because you knew how much he loved hearing it, but tonight, you were in control.
When Gojo’s lips wrapped around your clit and his tongue added pressure, you couldn’t help but let out a sharp cry. Each second he sucked, his tongue teasingly flicked against your most sensitive spot, pushing you closer to the edge.
“God… I didn’t know elves were this good with their tongues—AH, GOD, JUST LIKE THAT.”
When he slid his tongue into your pussy, your head fell back. Your hands tugged at his hair as his tongue moved in and out, making you crave his big cock even more.
“Stick your finger—your finger in my ass. Ugh… stretch it out before I let you fuck it. And don’t stop licking me.”
With a hot breath against your pussy, he replied, “As you wish, ma’am.”
His hand slid from your thigh to your ass, and he began circling your tight hole with his finger before slowly pushing it inside.
“Mhhhmph… fuck, fuck, fuck,” you moaned, overwhelmed by the mix of sensations.
He didn’t let up. While his finger stretched your ass, his tongue continued working on your pussy, planting noisy kisses on your clit. When his tongue found your sweet spot again, he sucked hard, sending you spiraling toward your orgasm.
“I’m gonna come in your mouth… ugh, don’t stop—I’m so close!”
“Please, come in my mouth,” Gojo begged, his voice dripping with need.
A few more swipes of his tongue and a deep thrust of his finger pushed you over the edge. With a scream, you came hard into his mouth, your legs shaking as your climax overwhelmed you.
All you wanted now was to kiss him and feel his big cock inside you.
When he finally pulled his head back from between your legs, his face was glistening with your wetness. You pulled him up to you, crashing your lips against his. Satoru stayed still, letting you take the lead, not daring to do anything that might disrupt your control.
When you pulled back to speak, both your lips were slick from saliva and your juices. “Lie on the bed and put your hands above your head.”
He looked into your eyes and you saw the burning desire in his blue gaze. You knew how much he wanted this.
Without hesitation, he lay down on the bed, clasping his hands above his head. From the nightstand, you grabbed the Christmas-themed handcuffs you’d bought and secured his wrists to the headboard.
“Now you’re completely mine, my little elf slave.” You climbed on top of him, pulling down the green pants of his costume. “Remember, there’s no pleasure for you tonight. You were a bad boy this year, so the only thing you’re getting is my tight ass.”
Pulling his pants and boxers off, you grabbed his hard cock, running your fingers over the tip.
“F-fuck…” Gojo gasped, a string of curses leaving his lips.
In a sharp tone, you warned, “You don’t speak unless I give you permission.”
He nodded obediently, his lips sealed. Aligning your ass with his cock, you lifted your skirt and slowly lowered yourself onto him, letting out a loud moan as he stretched you open.
“I can’t even—God, I can’t even talk.” You paused for a moment to adjust before starting to move, rocking your hips up and down in small motions.
“You’ve been waiting for this all year, haven’t you? Now—ah, God, now take what you’ve been dreaming of.” you said, your voice breathy as your movements quickened.
“Y-yes, ma’am. You’re the best gift I could ever have,” Gojo groaned deeply.
“Yes, I’m the best gift—for you. Only I can give you this,” you panted, feeling the fullness of his cock inside you.
Every nerve in your body was alive, overwhelmed by the sensation of his thick cock stretching your ass. The sound of your ass slapping against him only spurred you to move faster. His balls hit against your skin, sending waves of pleasure through you.
Throwing your head back, you moved your hips even faster. “Are you close, my little elf?”
“Yes, ma’am… oh, so—so close,” he said, his voice strained, his eyes shut tight.
“Then be a good elf and—ah, God, come for me… come for me now!”
With a few final bounces, you felt his release fill you, the warmth spilling into you as you collapsed onto his chest.
Both of you were panting, your breaths uneven as you tried to come down from the high. After a few minutes of resting, you lifted your head to look at him, your mischievous but obedient boyfriend. “Merry Christmas, my love.” You kissed him softly, savoring the moment.
Gojo was still catching his breath. “To you too, baby. Luckily, Santa gave me the gift I wanted most. I think I might actually enjoy being a good boy.”
Your fingers gently stroked his cheeks as you chuckled. “You definitely deserved it. Santa would do anything for you.”
“And I’d do anything for her. Also, baby, I realized I get extra hard when you’re the one in control.”
“Oh, you liked it, huh?” You placed a soft kiss on his cheek.
“Yep. Let’s do this every year. But next year, I want to be Santa. This costume was so itchy.”
Your lips curled into a smile as you continued to leave small kisses on his cheek. “Deal.”
“In that case, untie me, and let’s put our pajamas back on and watch Mean Girls while drinking hot chocolate.” Mean Girls was probably your favorite movie as a couple. You watched it at least once a month.
While untying the cuffs, you said, “I don’t think the hot chocolate is hot anymore.”
Freed from the handcuffs, Gojo rubbed his wrists where the marks were. “Then I’ll just have something else that’s hot.”
“Like soup—HEY, TORU!” Before you could finish your sentence, you suddenly found yourself on your back as he climbed on top of you, grinning mischievously.
“Something better than soup.” As he lowered his head and made his way between your legs again, you realized you’d be staying in bed a little longer.
In that moment, you were reminded once again how much you loved him, whether he was good or naughty all year long.
But deep down, you’d always love him more when he was naughty.
all rights belong to the @moonlitwitchdaisy do not copy, reproduce, or translate my work.
gojo satoru art by @1004_shvn on X
dividers by @strangergraphics @cxltbr1de
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk#jjk smut#gojo satoru#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo smut#satoru gojo#gojo x reader#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#satoru gojo x you#gojo satoru x reader
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jj couldn’t help but love it when kitty got all possessive over him
you’ve always loved the smell of the big supermarket stores, something so mundane never failed to put you in a good mood, hence why the blonde has dragged you along to pick up a few home essentials. he couldn’t help but notice the way you clung to the side him, lips grazing against the muscle of his arm as you nuzzled yourself closer - there was a slight confusion in what he’d done right but whatever it was meant that he had a chance of getting some nice sloppy head tonight, so he really couldn’t say much
a good few minutes passed by of you just running around picking up anything and everything, insisting that it was a need and by this point jj had lost you - wandering around the frozen foods isle hoping to see a glimpse of your dark boots in the corner so the both of you could get back home and get your pretty mouth to work.
“hey you seem lost” the feminine voice comes from the side of him, he figured it must have been a worker trying to trick him into buying some stupid shit he definitely didn’t need, “oh-uh no i’m good - just looking for my girlfriend, you seen her aroun-”
“silly of her to leave a guy as cute as you roaming around” she interrupts taking a few steps closer, hand raising up to graze against his chest. he was quick to shut the interaction down, readied to leave the situation and find you as quick as possible “umm- uh- no thanks?” he mutters out before pacing over to the end of the isle, catching a glimpse of your overflowing cart - you’d have had to be close
but before he could feel his self leave the breeze of cold, invited by the multiple freezers in the section - he could feel the same hand grab at his wrist, causing him to pause in his tracks “my number, so y’can call me” the frilled voice lets out before turning away, walking to the other side ignoring his call for her to take the small piece of paper back.
and to his luck, before he could chuck the piece of paper into the nearest bin and pretend the unwarranted interaction never happened, he was met with your mean glare in front of him eyeing the piece of paper and the figure of the girl who was making her way out
jj was many things but he wasn’t an idiot debatable, he was quick to rush and explain and ramble about whatever had happened “i mean i said no- and she just like grabbed me and gave me it- ill throw it away right now baby”
“no”
it was the first word you’d said this whole time, he was confused were you upset?were you mad? and if you were mad,was it at him? at her? before he could bombard you with a million questions you ushered the paper towards you before shoving it into the endless void of your purse. you continued as normal grabbing the blonde close to your side and strutting off towards the till, leaving him in his constant state of confusion
the ride back was quiet , unusually quiet - the air,which would typically be filled the sound of jj chattering away with your occasional inputs, was completely and utterly silent “uh- g-got anything to say kitty cat” the blonde pogue breaks first, voice booming through the undisturbed silence , hands drumming at the steering wheel
“nope” the soft pop of ‘p’ was the last sound before it fell back into the discomforting silence, “right..right - are you annoy-” the messy haired blonde begins, but is stopped as soon as he feels your hand creeping up his thigh - loosely playing with the button of his shorts
“you were saying something?” it was less of a question and more of a tease, eyes looking up at him knowingly that this could go two ways “what-uh-no-no…just wanted to say you look so so hot babe” he starts to ramble, hand engulfing yours before leading it down his cargo shorts “must be annoying being that hot n’ i just wow ok” the last words come out more of a breathy moan, as you play around with the tip of him, yanking his shorts down to let himself spring free - a soft groan following the action
it was almost like it was a game, watching him get harder with every touch, every gentle stroke. “eyes on the road” you remind him, leaning down to press a tender kiss on the mushroom tip of his dick - tongue swirling around on the head “fuucck-” the blonde clearly eager, utters underneath his breath, a quiet whimper leaving his mouth “cant wait to get home n’show that pretty pussy how much i love her” he continues making your cunt involuntary clench at the propsal
“bet she couldn’t make you feel like this” you challenge referencing the random girl at the store previously ,hands stroking up and down his aching length before sinking your mouth down his dick, bobbing up and down “not even a chance baby” he moans, hips thrusting upwards at the red light
the dingy car was filled with the sounds of choked breaths and loud groans as the blonde continued to fuck your throat “such a good girl f’me huh?” voice coming out raspy and breathless, pulling you off him, waiting for answer “aren’t you kitty cat?”
“mhmmmmm” he swore he could’ve cum right there, you looked so cock drunk for him, he let go of your hair - shifting his attention back to the road was harder than it seemed, with the way you went back to working your mouth on him - it was impossible not to cum but he resisted because he knew that the only place he was cumming tonight was deep in between your gummy walls, filling you with all his babies
it was feral. how quick he was to park the car and lead you into the empty home, lips colliding with each other sloppily throughout the whole way. the large clatter of your purse and his keys and whatever nonsense that you both held was blanketed by the wet sounds of your mouths, tongues swirling around each other. it was messy, so so messy but a care couldn’t be found in the world as the blonde pushed you against the shitty old couch, mouth peppering rough kisses along your jaw
“bet this pussy is so wet f’me” his hand made its way to roughly pull of the mini skirt you’d been wearing, throwing it to some random corner of the room, eyes focused on the damp spot on your panties. it wasn’t long before he was planting a deep long kiss to your now bare pussy, panties torn off the moment he saw them “she’s lookin’ so pretty” he pants, fingers reaching up to pinch at the little nub causing a slight hiss from you “jayy- ngh- fuck me please” the ache in you was so so prominent now, all you wanted him to do was pound your guts while he told you that he was all yours
“so so needy today…huh?” jj knew you too well, he knew exactly what that look in your eyes meant “don’t worry baby….g’nna fuck you so good- show you that this dick is allll yours”
the harsh whine you make as he sinks himself in is a sound jj wishes he could tattoo in his mind, it was so perfect, so needy -just like you. your hand scrambled to the tops of his head , fingers gripping the ruffled hair and bringing him down closer to you, kissing all over his face muttering the word ‘mine’ between each peck
“yeah- fuck- all yours m’promise” he pants, tongue darting out to wet his lips before nuzzling his head in the crevice of your neck, sucking harshly against the soft skin. he lifts his head up placing his forehead against yours, one hand gripping onto the armrest of the scruffy couch, while the other reaches inbetween your sweaty bodies pressed together to rub at your sensitive little clit making you let out an almost pornographic moan.
“jayyy m’so close…please” you had no idea what you were mewling at him for, but you needed to be in his bones, in his blood at this moment because the sight of his eyebrows furrowed and eyes focused on pounding into your cunt restlessly had you wanting him to live in your skin
“yeah c’mon baby….cum for me know y’can” his hips don’t falter, thrusting faster, harder and deeper, while his fingers rubbed at your poor clit and with one soft pinch you were coming undone all over him “ngh-m’cummin-fuck fuck fuck” it wasn’t long before the taller boy was joining you in your high, the feel of your velvety walls squeezing him was enough to make him coat your insides with his cum with a loud groan
you two lay there for a while, he was still inside you, both of your orgasms forming a white wring around the base of him “ i think i got her real good” the blonde mumbles into your neck, hand carelessly grazing against your clit, stopping after the squeal you let out “just checking up on her…kay?” body slowly lifting off yours as he pulls himself out, yanking up his cargo shorts, leaving you feeling empty. his head moving down to inspect your cunt. it was selfish but he couldn’t help but press a few chaste kisses against your quivering hole “jay….no more please” you plead, eyes all teary from the stimulation
“just givin’ her a little love baby, don’t worry” he argues, mouth hovering over your mound before kissing all over. god he looked so perfect, one hand moving to grab his phone, while the other tangled itself in his hair - taking a few pictures of him, face buried deep in your pussy. yours, he was yours
so it was no surprise to jj when he received a text later in the night from a random number calling him an asshole, opening it to find that someone had sent the photos from earlier in the afternoon
#dividers by anitalenia#obx#outer banks#jj maybank#jj maybank prompt#obx drabble#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank thoughts#jj maybank concept#jj maybank drabble#jj maybank headcanon#jj maybank smut#jj x kitty!reader#kitty!reader
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