#i love him so much i'm so happy i have him

[neil-gaiman]

Hello Mr Gaiman, I just wanted to properly thank you for including so much casual queerness in Good Omens, specifically season 2.

I watched the second season with one of my best friends, who isn't homophobic, but he's a "true blue white aussie" and queerness isn't really a part of his life. Being queer myself, that isn't ideal, but we never really talked about it, and I valued his friendship enough to never need to bring it up.

But after watching this season together, he's hooked on Aziraphale and Crowley's story and wants a happy ending for both of them, even though he would never usually watch a show with queer main characters. His love for the show gave me enough confidence to finally, properly, come out to him, and although he probably doesn't quite understand my labels, I feel that he's more accepting of me than he would have been before.

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.

I'm so glad - for you and for him.

[hoseoksluna]

WHITE | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut

word count: 8.1k

summary: craving white wine, your boyfriend would do anything for you—even let you dom him.

pinterest board: wine

warnings: alcohol consumption, wine!oc is dominant and she's enjoying it, plushie used in a sexual intercourse, dd/lg, jk is desperate and so horny, hand job, oral sex (m. + f. receiving), fingering, squirting, raw sex, the importance of sex being imperfect, use of sex toys — yes, plural, dirty talk, spanking, face riding

note: i'm genuinely sorry for this—SDFKJDSLFJDSLFJS. this is the last wine drabble <3 i loved writing about them again, ugh i missed my babies so much. would you, guys, also like me to write two drabbles about the steam series? i feel like it would only be fair like this. vote in the poll below, pwease. <3 hope you like this last installment.

Your boyfriend has an immense, insane amount of energy. 

You have partly yourself to blame. It’s Saturday night, summer at full blast and you felt it thrumming so deeply and intensely within your veins that you found yourself craving your most favored mood-lifter in the world. 

White wine. 

You’ve almost spent every weekend drinking myriads of different alcoholic beverages, but the white nectar is something you’ve quite neglected. Well, not so much as neglected, but forgotten about entirely. The last time you drank it, you and Jungkook were on far, far different terms. Fuck buddies with a degradation kink, skipping a party because you got horny again. You wonder if things would’ve turned out the same way if you hadn’t decided to spice up your getting ready time with that drink. Would it change the course of events that led him to confess his feelings for you? Would you have allowed yourself to fall for him, had he not made you drunk with his allure?

You only had to mention your thirst and Jungkook was quick to get up to his feet, take his keys, phone and wallet and he was out the door before you could say anything else. Your fond giggles vibrated across the room—so much that Bam lifted his head and jumped on your lap and so you spent the remaining time alone cuddling with the canine friend, catching up in your lovey-dovey dog language, kissing him all over until you dolled him up with red lipstick marks. 

He looked so good. Was happy about it, too, because when his Daddy came back, he was similarly quick to show him. 

And Jungkook, he laughed so hard that he clutched his own stomach, doubled over, his shoulders shaking. Then, he sat next to you on the couch, pulled you in for a hug as if he hadn’t seen you in years and very solemnly told you that it was his turn now. 

The words that tumbled out of you were so swift, without any kind of embrace of thought beforehand, that you didn’t have the time to consider the consequences they would come with until they dazzled you. Through and through, ridding you of your sense of sight. 

“You’ll get your kisses only if you show me that you bought the wine.” 

Jungkook’s eyes grew in size, darkened in nightly fashion. Twinkles flickering, dimly. The atmosphere, the dynamic and energy shifted, folding into something you haven’t yet experienced in such depth, calming your eyes until they blended back into normalcy. And you wouldn’t perceive it for what it truly was, had Jungkook not wordlessly left to fetch his bag from the convenience store, along with a corkscrew and two glasses, and had he not crouched in front of you. 

The view left you stunned. The blatantly obvious fact, too. 

The fact that, somehow, you were in control.

And it was so different from the last time due to a simple reason. Jungkook wasn’t the one who initiated it. Didn’t tell you to be in charge. Didn’t give you his control in words, in commands. No, it happened arbitrarily, on its own and Jungkook submitted to it. Submitted to you. Put down his control once he lowered his form between your knees, giving it to you this way, silently. 

A thing of utter beauty, filling you up with vibrancy, enthusiasm and… passion. 

He showed you his haul, unloading it onto your lap. Sparkling white wine in a golden bottle, dog treats, cheese and crackers and… Miffy. 

Miffy in a way you haven’t seen her before. 

Made into a sleeping position. Black eyes shut, round butt risen in the air, even rounder tail perked, body soft and drowsy. Bigger than the bunny resting alone on his bed in the other room. 

You purred, squeezing her hard before you hugged her to your chest, careful not to smear your makeup on her when you pushed her up to your neck. Looked at your quite small boyfriend with a ravening gaze as you said, “You got bunny a sister, how cute. Well done.” 

Your praise coaxed a noise out of Jungkook that you never heard before, one that stirred the eternally slumbering beast in you that had not once seen the night enveloping you. A concoction, most delicious and arousing, of a whimper and a hum. It settled within your core, teasing you there, making you want more. You told him, or the beast more like, to open the wine and he obeyed, right away. 

You watched him do it. Watched the flexing of his muscles, tense beneath the fabric of his tiger-print shirt. Watched him not spill a drop and then pour you a glass until it almost overflowed. He handed it to you, expecting you to take it from him, but you caught him off guard. 

“Taste it for me first.” 

His mouth fell agape. Remained parted when he immediately brought the glass to his lips and took a large sip. Your eyes followed the bobble of his throat as he swallowed and you gave him a big smile for it. A praise, too. 

“Good. Let me have a sip now, my hands are full.” 

In typical fashion, he drew close to you until your knees squeezed him in, legs wrapping around his torso. One hand wrapped around your hip, the other tipped the glass to your mouth and you looked at him and did not stop until you took a big gulp. 

“More.” 

He tipped it again. “Tastes good?” 

You nodded, liking the sweetness and the fizziness, but this time you didn’t swallow the nectar. Jungkook set the glass down, along with his haul, averting his gaze momentarily and you cupped his chin, bringing it back to you. Leaned in and, in a heated kiss, you spewed the wine out into his mouth. He gasped, pulling away, flushed cheeks a tiny bit full, lips pursed, one mouth end wet with a trickle flowing down. It would’ve been an adorable sight, had his eyes not narrowed, darkened further more and pierced you with such intensity that your clit gained a drum. 

Your finger felt for the top button of his shirt. “Swallow. Don’t be messy.” He did. Swore. Breathed hard. You undid the button, lifting your digit to wipe his chin clean, smearing it on his bottom lip until he opened for you. You plunged in. Let out a low sound of delight once he wrapped his puffy lips around it. 

And now here you are staring at each other, finger in mouth. His newly secured energy pulsating in him, seconds away from bursting, brutally. You can see it, vividly, and you prepare yourself for it—blaming partly yourself and, feignedly, the palatability of the white nectar for being the cause behind it. He’s waiting for the next move, countenance terribly solemn and stiff. His hands must be oh so itching to take over, but he sticks to the unspoken, patient and good. 

Taking out your finger gently, you undo the rest of his buttons, aware of the shudders zapping his body the more you reveal his smooth skin. Jungkook straightens for you, palms on your thighs, breathing heavily, a sound that brings out the strangest of oxymorons in you—simultaneous nervousness and confidence. Nervousness that you call the shots; confidence that the paintwork of his arousal is signed with your name. 

And it’s the latter that the beast plucks out, like a twig of flower off a tree. 

You push Jungkook back and slide into his lap, biting your lip at the contact of his hardness under the flimsy material of your ivory pajama shorts. His hands clasp around your small hips, but you pry them away, deeming that if you are in control, then it’s you who decides when he gets to touch you. His brows rise when you pin them down and at last he beams up at you, eyes lidded and drunk, despite the fact he merely had two sips of alcohol. Bunny’s sister rests askew in your joined laps, her head pointed towards your mound and it forces a certain idea into your muddy brain. 

One that Jungkook fleetingly interrupts. 

“You’re gonna take control of me?” 

Ooft, making it official. You hum your agreement, repositioning the plushie. Place her directly against his imprint and, pushing the soaked center of your shorts to the side, you sit down on her soft face. Begin to rock slowly. Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat, fists clench on either side of him as well as his jaw, chin upturned. He’s holding himself back with all of his might and it is only now that you feel your wetness dripping onto the fur, now when the vibrancy of the faint pleasure spreads across your every nerve ending, now when you know that he’s struggling to keep his composure. There’s something so incredibly satisfying about it that you rock your hips harder, whimpering, hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Can you handle it?” you murmur, already knowing that he won’t be able to the moment you decide to take things further, but you give him a slither of a chance to prove you wrong, rooting for him from within with a sly smile on your face. 

Jungkook pokes his tongue in his cheek, sighing, eyes descending to your neck and to your perky, pebbled breasts under your low cut top. “I’ll handle anything you come up with as long as I get your kisses.” 

His sweet response gratifies you so much that you arch your back, lowering your hands down to his chest, the thrum on your clit becoming unbearable, the soft friction of the plushie doing very little to alleviate it. You whine, picking up your pace. “Even—even if you don’t get to touch me?” 

Jungkook hesitates, biting his lower lip. A certain sadness coasts his now big eyes that makes you coo endearingly and slow down, feel so bad for him. “Anything for you.” 

You can’t halt the groan from escaping, the groan that roots from the passion and the love you carry for him, from the principle of his submission. You’ll make it up to him. Play with him just for a little while and you’ll give him his rightful upper hand right back to him, all because he was so quick to be your little toy. Without a thought, nor a word spared. Without a struggle. He deserves it. Has come a long way. 

“You’re just my little slut, aren’t you?” You grab a hold of his throat, tip his chin up, feel his vein throbbing. “My pretty little slut. Hard for me, hm? Will do anything for me?” 

Widening his eyes, mouth parted, he moans, sucking in a breath, chest lifting rapidly. Hand automatically lifting to palm himself, just in time to realize that he can’t because the plushie and your lap is in the way. “Yes, I’m your little slut and I need you so bad. Need your kisses.” 

You hum, terribly, terribly satisfied. Horny. A fire, personified. Fire and energy—a wonderful mixture about to meet. “Where, baby?” 

His breath shakes, his being radiated by you, glistening in sweat. “Everywhere, please.” 

You drift your hands down his chest. Think he earned them now by asking so nicely. You sit back on his thighs, plushie in hand, ready to chuck her away, but then another idea comes up. 

Grabbing her by the back of her neck, you use her to kiss him. On his jaw, on his neck, on his left peck, nipple and the mole underneath, making kissing sounds. Jungkook shudders at the contact upon his most sensitive spots and you can see his disliking for it before he voices it out. You revel in it, his desperation becoming your obsession. 

“No, not from her. Please, from you.” 

But in spite of that, your craving to give him everything is stronger. 

You toss her on the couch, hands instantly clasping around his neck. You kiss him, wetly, on his Adam’s apple and he whimpers, urging you to continue. The sides of his throat, collarbones, shoulders—you mark him everywhere with your red lipstick, making a pathway down his sternum before you go sideways. Create a large shape of a heart on the left side of his peck, coloring it in with bruises, with kisses so hard that his manhood twitches in his pants. You’re so focused on adorning him, on the citrusy taste of his skin, that you don’t even sense your hands as they rid him of his shirt, unbuckle his belt and undo his button, dragging down his zipper. 

You rise to your feet, out of breath, puffy mouth, lipstick slightly smeared, head spinning. “Take off your pants and get on the couch.” 

The golden buckle of his belt catches your eye as he stands up. You wrap your hand around it and tug it out of his belt hoops harshly. There’s a hint of timidness in the vast sea of his arousal once he looks at you, aware of what you’re planning with the leather band. With a giggle, you merely wink at him and Jungkook blushes, dropping his gaze in tandem with his pants. 

“Boxers, too?” 

You edge around his side and envelop your arms around his middle, mouth pressing against his spine. A big, red mark of your lips amidst the broadness of his back. Utterly, utterly beautiful. “Smart boy, yes—off with them, now.” 

Jungkook laughs, softly, shyly. You wish you could see his blush deepen as the clenching of his abdomen divulges to you how much he liked that praise. You also wish you could feel the fluttering of the butterflies inside, if there are any at all. You’re getting to know him in such a new way that you otherwise would have never had the opportunity to do so. The shudders, the tension under his skin, the lively energy that is yearning to burst and rain upon you—it is all so awfully exhilarating, even more so the fact that you hold it all in your tender grasp. 

And he lets you. In the name of love. 

He drops his undergarment and he goes to sit down like you told him to, but you squeeze him harder against yourself. No, he’s not going anywhere. The heat, his soft skin, his gentleness and shyness—you want it all close to you, close enough to seep into your pores so it can make bed there and live there perpetually. So snug, so homely—yes, that’s precisely what it is. Home. 

You skim your hands down the defined muscles of his stomach, feeling them move under your fingers. Take his wrists behind his back and keep them there, unrestrained yet, his belt curled on the coffee table. You bring your hands back to his stomach, lowering them down—

“Can you reach me?” Jungkook asks, head turned to the side. You’re so used to degradation in your sex life that at first you thought he was mocking you, but on the contrary—he’s asking in all genuinity. With his forearms pressed to his sides, he’s bigger than he usually is and he wondered if your small form can stretch enough to touch him. 

How sweet. 

“Such a good, thoughtful boy.” You grab his length. Had to do it from the side a little bit, but you don’t mind. At least you get to see him. See the way he twists his features at the contact, see his energy and his muscles straining. “I guess I can, huh?” 

You tug at his length rapidly a few times. His body shudders again, almost doubles over before he straightens his spine, whimpers trickling out of his mouth and rooting in your heat, soaking your pajamas. And when his sounds rise in volume, you swiftly let go of him. Fetch the belt and fasten it around his wrists, leading him to take a seat on the couch. 

Manspreading, cock hard, red and long, almost kissing his belly button, hands behind his back, muscles big and flexed, face features darkened by his arousal, ravagedly fixed on you—fuck, you could come from the view. 

You sink to your knees in front of him. Itch so fucking hard to take him in your mouth and make that energy paint you in white, but watching him like this—you plan something else entirely. Pressing one kiss on his V-line, you glide your lips upon the tip of his length, making him tremble in desperation. It takes all of your strength not to give it to him, but you know he will be overjoyed with the little thought that’s swarming in your brain. 

“Where’s your fleshlight, baby?” 

Jungkook loosens a hard, flabbergasted breath and his pretty, pretty cock twitches against your mouth. 

You knew it. 

You bought the toy together yesterday. It’s still unopened in a box somewhere in his bedroom; you don’t know where he hid it. He may have not wanted to spend money on it, but when you witnessed the way his eyes glowed, you convinced him to get it. Begged him. Told him you wouldn’t leave the sex shop until he bought it and he gave in, timidly. Much to your delight.

“In the closet,” Jungkook croaks out, clearing his throat and you kiss his other V-line as a reward, kitten licking his tip for a millisecond as you rise to your feet. He whimpers, again in desperation.

“You can’t get it, can you?” you taunt, lovingly, fingers hooking under your shorts and dragging them down your hips, your top following over your head. His eyes follow your every movement, fixing on your feminine parts, muscles bulging, yearning to touch you. You grow wetter, being looked at, being desired like that. “You’re just a helpless baby.” 

He moans your name, signaling to you that there’s only so much he can take and you understand. You’re quick as you hurry to his bedroom, quick to find it, quick to pull the toy out of the box and quick to return to him. 

There’s a trickle of his male arousal gliding down his length when you stand between his legs and your own desperation to pleasure him heightens in you—so much that you’re equally quick to unfold your plan. 

You grab his chin and tip it up, harshly. Kiss him so nastily that he moans into your mouth and then… then you stare him dead in his eye. “I’m gonna put the fleshlight under bunny’s sister and you’re gonna show her how hard Daddy fucks his girls, yeah?” He’s left speechless, breathing rapidly, coated in sweat. Eyes narrowed, still darkened but now glowing with that familiar light that you saw yesterday, black irises piercing you through and through. “You should give her a name, though. Have something to moan when you fill her up, hm?” 

It’s evident, the way his brain malfunctions, but he surprises you. 

“Vinny.” 

Vinny and Bunny, how adorable. 

You coo, pecking him. “Vinny it is. Such a pretty name. I’m gonna make you nice and wet for her. Would you like that?” 

“Please.” 

You descend to your knees and you don’t hesitate to immediately take him into your mouth as far as you can. You gag around him, but you relax your throat, bobbing your head only slightly, testing yourself, wanting to stretch your throat out for him. Jungkook groans, squeaks little mewls as he doubles over once more, and the sound is so obscenely loud that your clit throbs harder in response and you would touch yourself if your craving to pleasure him wasn’t stronger. 

You pull out until you can stack both of your hands on his length and while your tongue plays with his tip, you twist your wrists. Only briefly, just to make him feel a little better before you lick him all over—just to stay true to your words. And when it’s your name that comes out of his mouth once you slobber all over him, you withdraw altogether. 

“Please… please,” Jungkook whimpers, trembling and you feel terribly bad for him. So much that you pucker your lips at him and kiss his cheek endearingly as soon as you get on your feet again, purposefully ignorant to the way your cunt likes his helplessness. 

“I got something better for you, Daddy, don’t worry,” you reassure him, slipping into the dynamic your familiarity using the title. You grab Vinny and the fleshlight, placing her on top of the toy, on the armrest of the couch—her butt and her pussy facing him. 

And when you glance at him to see his reaction to your artwork, you’re stunned by the look he gives you. Mad, mad stare. Awfully dark and menacing. It would disquiet you if didn’t know that he loved you. There’s no way you could take the liberty in toying with him like this, had you not become exclusive—had he not created a realm of safety for you to do that in. 

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you for this,” Jungkook threatens and the sliver of normalcy in the middle of the role-play that he caught onto makes you giddy and feel so fucking alive. The threat, too. You quiver in anticipation and excitement, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re not walking after this.” 

You laugh, softly, thrilled. “I sure hope so,” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm to lift him up. “I’m dripping for you.” 

Jungkook hisses. Won’t budge. Remains seated, looking up at you. Doesn’t reciprocate your smile. Scowls, instead. “Can I taste you?” 

You shake your head ‘no’, even if it emotionally pains you. “Not right now.” 

He sighs and you take his arm again. This time he obeys—lets you lead him into the position that you want. On his knees, still on the couch, perfectly at level with Vinny’s pussy patiently waiting for him. Jungkook looks at her for a long time, studying the silicone shape of her clit and lips. You’re certain that if his hands were free, his thumb would’ve traced her soft vulva.

“Do you like her pussy?” you ask, your grin only widening, eyes blazing, emitting hot sparkles of light. You’re perhaps more excited and enthusiastic about this than he is. 

Jungkook looks at her for a split second more before he flicks his intense gaze to yours. “Yours is prettier.” Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart follows its footsteps, skipping a beat, springing up and grazing your vocal cords. You can’t get a word out—you’re stupefied, in love, so impassioned that you resemble him with all that fire in you, taking after his energy buzzing in him. You sense the same movement in you, hotter, more vigorous. Your mouth parts and, cheeks awash with color, you’re on the verge of bursting. “Let me touch your little pussy, please.”  

You bite your lip, pause a tiny bit just to regain your composure and you sigh, eventually, gripping his face in your hand, squishing his cheeks. “I said,” you start, emphasizing your warning just to see his flush deepen like you wanted. “Not right now. Can’t you listen?” 

For a fleeting moment, there’s a heavy silence filled with his hard breaths. 

Then, Jungkook glares at you. 

“I’m gonna destroy you.” 

You chuckle, girlishly—even though his threat yet again thrums within your skin, even though your body craves to submit to him, throw the playtime away, forget about it, entirely. “Talk all you want. See where it gets you.” With your other hand, you take his length and line it up at Vinny’s entrance. “Fuck her.” 

Now—now he finally grins, a puckish smile that unnerves you a little bit, as if an idea crawled up into that smart brain of his. 

And he proves you right. 

“I’m gonna show her how I’m gonna fuck you,” he mutters, drawing closer to Vinny, to the arm rest. “Where’s the lube? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” 

A trickle of cold sweat trickles down your spine and it’s you who’s left speechless now. You were so quick to return to him that you did forget the lube, mind void of rationality, filled with him that you forgot such an essential thing. You swear under your breath, feeling stupid. 

“Go get it before I rip this fucking belt apart and use it on you.” 

Wordlessly, embarrassed with your head down, you go back to his room and fish for his lube in his bedside drawer, noticing that it’s where he keeps the vibrator for you. You haven’t used it in so long in your playtime and you reminisce, briefly, on the last time he made you come with it. On this very bed, on his lap with bunny on yours as he rearranged your guts with the toy on your clit—teasing you by lifting it and placing it between the plushie’s legs, acting for her and screwing up his features in pleasure.

Your heart thuds at the memory, your thighs sodden with your essence, and a certain expectation creeps within its chambers. The expectation that the toy will make a comeback tonight. That is, if you even deserve it. 

You cringe at your wetness while your feet pad back to the living room. Jungkook stares you down, guilt written all over his face for being mean and it mollifies your negative feelings, dispersing them away from you. It’s enough for you—you don’t really want to talk about how you pitifully failed, nor do you want to hear a mention of it, but Jungkook seemingly does. 

Up close, his eyes are awfully soft as if he made a mistake with his last words. You don’t think he did—he’s always been the leader in your playtime, so you deem he only did the right thing. Besides, you’ve worked him up to the point of anger, so from your standpoint, he didn’t do anything wrong. You did. 

“Come here,” he says, gently, leaning in and angling his head. “Put your arms around me.” You do as he says, needing to, needing to be led for a little while before you can resume. You sink your fingers into his hair as you rest your forearms around his shoulders, even though all you want to do is rid him of his restraint and let him fuck it out of you. He kisses you with such tenderness that you whimper in sensitivity and amorousness, taking it one step further and moving your mouth against his, slipping your tongue inside. It’s a brief kiss, no matter its intensity, for he still has something to say. “You’re doing so well tonight. I never thought I’d ever get this hard from you being the boss of me. I’m sorry for snapping, you hear me?” he whispers against your lips, each movement causing his pillows to touch yours in faint, faint kisses that make your mind spin and your desire for him to lengthen across your whole body, deepening. You nod for him, hearing his words, needing them, too—glad for the honesty, for the check in, for the sliver of normalcy. “I’m just so horny and I need you. I didn’t mean it, okay? Daddy didn’t mean to talk to you like this. He loves you and you made him so needy that he’s frustrated, but it’s okay. He can handle it. Do you love your Daddy back, hm?”

You moan at the continuation of his words, running your fingers through his hair, inching closer to him until your chest softly collides with his. And his reassurement, the warm feeling of his skin, the potency of his love—it all erases your mistake, leaving only your sensual craving for him. You nod, again, like a little girl given a talking-to from her father, absorbing the lesson. “I love you.” 

Jungkook hums, pleased, pecking you. “Good. I’m gonna do what you want now, baby. Gonna make you proud, listen to every word like a good Daddy, hm? You can do anything you want to me. You’d like that? You wanna keep going?” 

You smile at him, sweetly, and he kisses your expression of contentment. It feels so good like this and you feel woozy, too. Sluggish, ready to be taken, on your way to cloud nine. You nod your head for the last time and squirt the lube all over him and Vinny’s intimate parts, your desire to take over him blending into your fuzzy feelings. 

With your help, he slides inside her, both pairs of eyes watching the slick intrusion, then meeting at once—your simultaneous groans of delight merging, fading into one another, creating one beautiful, heavenly sound, unheard by all angels and celestial beings. You hold the fleshlight steady as he bottoms out, his mouth parted, brows furrowed, eyes so heavy-lidded as he devours your gaze, your face, the pleasure he feels so overwhelming that you almost think he can’t take it. The flexing of his abdominal muscles, the roll of his hips that takes all of his strength while his arms remain restrained behind his back, his neck shiny with a layer of sweat—fuck, the sight is to die for and you melt into something boneless, jelly and gooey; becoming just a hole for him.

You can’t wait for him to fuck you. Perhaps it’s you, after all, who can’t take it. 

Jungkook begins to pound her, his mound hitting her clit with every hard motion and it strikes your awe. Your breathing quickens, the drum in your own bundle of nerves unwaveringly unbearable and what’s worse, he keeps fucking looking at you, perhaps imagining it’s your pussy that he’s ruining and your legs tremble, threatening to give out—

“Rub your pussy on the other end, please,” he begs, vocal cords so awfully strained, and this time you decide to gratify him. 

The first moan that your mouth emits makes him fuck the toy harder—so much that it slips out of your grasp. You prop your knee on the armrest, flattening Vinny’s face on the edge of the toy, so you can gain the friction you so desperately need and it works. Your cunt soaks her sleepy countenance and you flick your eyes to it, watching the fur get darker with each rock of your hips.

“Look at me,” he grunts—and you do. A hint of softness in the dark sea of his eyes, boisterous waves of arousal sloshing to and fro. “Use her like I am. Hard—” He shows you how by a stroke that reverberates through your body, stimulating your clit by bumping into it. “And then fast.” Quick thrusts that waggle with your form, your curls bouncing against your spine. 

And so you match his rhythm. It stimulates you far more than the pace you had going for yourself, your orgasm enclosing around you, inching closer and closer with each graze of your clit against the now more firm plush fur. Your brows knit, the coil in your stomach tightening to the point that it’s you who ultimately takes over and Jungkook follows, matching your rhythm, fucking Vinny faster—the silicone squeaking with each deep plunge of his length into her hole that causes your tits to slap against each other. But Jungkook doesn’t look at them. No, his eyes are set on you and you know that he knows that you’re about to come. 

Jungkook begins to pant, marked chest flushing, adorning him most finely. The knowledge is getting him there, too. “You close, baby?” 

You moan, sucking in a breath. “So close, I’m gonna come.” 

He moans with you, approving of it. “Come, then, I wanna watch you. Make her nice and wet for me, hm?” You rock your hips faster—closer and closer, gripping Vinny with all your might. “I wanna touch you so bad, princess. Kiss you everywhere. Lick that little clit. Fuck you until all that you know is my fucking name. Please—”

You come so hard that it takes both you and Jungkook by surprise, your body violently shuddering and colliding into his. He groans, deeply, following in suit, your orgasm triggering his and he sloppily fucks the toy while he watches you ride out your high, bliss enveloping you in angelic glow. 

“Yes, princess, just like that, fuck. You’re so pretty. My pretty little girl, coming so hard. Yes, fuck.” He’s losing himself, moaning your name over and over until there’s nothing left to give to Vinny, until he’s so spent that he sits back on his feet, eyes closing and opening, tongue licking his dry lips. He moans your name again, in post-high. “Please, get the belt—”

You don’t hesitate. With blurry vision and sex hormones swirling in your brain, numb by your intense orgasm, you edge around him and rid him of his restraint, flinging it somewhere away from the both of you, hating it, not wanting to see it again. 

You and Jungkook exchange a look full of soft smiles and love, with his joy like a cherry on top of that. He twists his wrists, standing up to his feet, the size difference and the sudden change in energy causing him to grow solemn. No smiles, though the love remains. You feel it thumping in the atmosphere you’re surrounded by as he completely overpowers you, naturally. And you welcome it, needing it—needing to be dominated and fucked until you’re brainless. 

“I love watching you come,” Jungkook murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. “It’s all I want to see for the rest of my life. Every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. It’s everything to me.” 

It moves through you, his words, almost painfully with their vigor and passion, passing down your body until they settle in your core. You drip for him. Still feel so terribly lightheaded and high. “Just that, huh?” 

“And your snores.” 

You punch his arm. Jungkook laughs and gathers your hair, pulling it away from your face, stroking it down your back. A grin of your own curls your mouth. You don’t snore, at all. And you tell him. 

“You do when you’re tired.” You gasp, lifting your hand again but he catches it in time, intertwining your fingers with his. “You did such a good job today. You learn well from me. Sounded just like me. Made me proud.” He strokes your hair again and you lean into his touch, even though you don’t believe him. You could’ve done a lot better and it could’ve ended just like you planned—fucking him with that fleshlight. You guess you can save that for another time. 

You shake your head. “I messed up.” 

“But you didn’t.” He angles his head, inching closer so the gravity of his words can pierce your mind, but it does no such thing. You still have one of your own. Solid as a rock. 

“No, I shouldn’t have forgotten the lube. It ruined everything.” 

Jungkook sighs, drawing back, fondling the back of your hand before he lets go of it and clutches the nape of your neck. “Sex isn’t meant to be perfect. You didn’t ruin anything, why do you think that?” He looks at you for a long time, but you can’t take it—you drop your gaze, still feeling terrible. He calls you by your name, firmly. “Who made you think sex is meant to be perfect, huh? Bring them to me.” 

You laugh, softly, at the ridiculousness of his question. It’s him who owns your virginity—you’ve never been with anyone else before him. It’s your own expectations that make you think that. “Right here.” You point to your brain. 

Jungkook kisses your forehead. Lingers there, giving you a million tiny pecks, as if erasing everything from there that he doesn’t like. It touches you, deeply, and you can’t stop yourself from submitting to it as it melts your brain. Your mouth rounds in a pout, your bottom lip jutting out and when he gazes down upon you and sees it, he coos at you, kissing it. “I made a mistake, too, didn’t I?” You remain silent—still think he didn’t do anything wrong. “But it was still amazing and we came together, didn’t we?” 

He’s right; you’ll give him that. “You really liked it?” 

He pecks you, vehemently, on the lips and then points to the fleshlight behind him in all its glory, dripping with cum. So much fucking cum that it makes a puddle on the hardwood floor. “Do you think I would’ve cummed this much if I didn’t? Tell me, baby.” 

You swear, unable to take your eyes off of the quantity of his male essence. It draws you in, magnetically, and you obey its call, lifting the fleshlight with your hands, turning around so Jungkook sees and darting out your tongue—

“Don’t.” 

You swipe the muscle across the silicone hole, collecting his ivory arousal. Most of it trickles down your neck and bare chest and it’s Jungkook now who swears, loudly. Grabs you by your waist and, flinging the toy away, he kisses you. You didn’t even have the time to swallow. He’s tasting himself on your tongue and it causes you to moan into his mouth. He taps the back of your thighs and you jump, wrapping your legs around his torso. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but at this point you give zero fucks. 

His tender bedding grazes your back when he lays you down on it with a harsh thud, breaking the kiss and taking your breath away. Bottom lip between his teeth, he studies your soiled body with his cum, kneeling on the bed by your form. He takes his first two fingers and collects his evidence of pleasure, flicking his eyes to yours. You meet him halfway, expecting him to plunge those digits in your mouth and you’re ecstatic, wanting it badly, but Jungkook pushes you down. 

In fact, he turns you around—ass up, face down. With just one hand. 

You swear, your arousal gaining new intensity. And it’s your needy hole that he plunges his fingers in, briefly stuffing you with his cum, placing his free hand on your lower back so you can arch your spine for him more. Then, he rubs your clit in hard, slow circles, making you cry out, making your legs tremble all over again—

A spank. A brassy, cacophonous spank that drives you forward, forcing you to grip onto the sheets. 

“I told you not to do that, didn’t I?” Jungkook rasps. Doesn’t alleviate the burn. “Answer me.” 

Fuck. “Yeah, you told me not to do that.” 

You brace yourself for another spank, but it doesn’t come. You feel his lips by your ear, his body heat cocooning you as he bends over you, his fists, pitifully, on either side of your back. 

“You’re such a filthy little girl. Licking my cum off like that? Making me hard all over again for you?” he tsks, the sound making you even needier. For him, for his cock, even for another spank. You grind your ass against his hip and he maneuvers so his cock slips between your cheeks. Swears, such guttural noise that you mewl in response. “You just do what you want, huh? I guess you don’t love your Daddy anymore.” 

He spanks you again, harder than before, and your vowel of disagreement breaks at the concoction of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. “No—no, I love you.” 

Another spank. Lips by your ear again, his body clinging to your side. “You love me?” He clamps your mouth shut, preventing you from answering. 

You do, anyways, your words muffled. “I love you. I love you so much.” 

Jungkook hums in question. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” He digs his fingers harder into your cheek, other hand rounding around your hip and attacking you with bolts of pleasure that make you quiver against him—rubbing your clit rapidly before he sinks his fingers inside you… and merely keeps them there. 

You move his hand away and he lets you, holding it, panting. “I love you so much.” 

Jungkook groans, sinking his fingers deeper. “Who do you love, hm?” 

He wants you to say his rightful title and you do, with all your heart. “You, Daddy. I love you.” 

At your words, Jungkook begins to pump his fingers and you cry out, placing your head on his palm, taking it. “Such a good fucking girl, making me crazy—” He growls, pressing a fat kiss on your cheek, curling his fingers slowly into that place that causes your breath to hitch in your throat, your orgasm quick to catch up to you. “Good little girl that loves her Daddy, fuck. I’m gonna give you everything. Gonna eat that little pussy, hm? You want that? Want Daddy to make you come with his tongue?” 

You squeak when he gives you one particular, hard stroke against your special place, mind numbing, a dam broken. “Yes, yes, please, Daddy, please—”

He draws away, instantly. Traces your back with his palms as he straightens, smearing your feminine essence all over your skin that he licks up. And then, his mouth—

Jungkook takes you in his mouth. All of you. Licking against your clit, sucking it, rubbing his face in your cunt and groaning against her. His hands squeeze your ass, painting it redder and he flicks your little bundle of nerves with his tongue until he senses your orgasm. Then, he pulls away for a second, stalling it. Thumbs your other, puckered hole. 

“My pretty little pussy. All mine.”

Mewling, you shake your ass for him and he growls, cursing, spanking your cheek, taking the flesh in his hand and squeezing it. Again and again, until you feel yourself drip, until you feel him spread your legs wider and nudge himself between them, opening his mouth for it to trickle down upon his tongue. 

“Sit up. Ride my face.” 

You moan before you even obey, sitting down on his tongue and grinding your pussy on it. He rolls it against you, back and forth, following your rhythm. Slow and romantic, kissing your clit every once in a while, sucking it as you keep up your movement, inching dangerously close to your orgasm. He’s in absolute control of you, though. Of your pleasure and climax, stalling it before beckoning it forth again. You lose yourself in it, in the profound and all consuming delight toying with all your nerve endings, creating something within you that diffuses you with confidence and allure, that inclines you to ride him harder, whimper a little louder and knead your breast until you leave your handprint in your wake. 

He lets you do your thing, but as you saw earlier today, there’s only so much that he can take. 

Clasping your hips, he angles them until your hole is at level with his nimble tongue, guiding you to lean back and use his chest to hold yourself steady. And like his fingers, he fucks you with the muscle, curling it each time. The filthy noise of your slick and his saliva, his breaths and hums, your obscene moans and then his thumb rubbing your clit rapidly—it’s enough, with his evident permission, for you to come. 

And you come so hard that you sprinkle his face with your dew. 

He laughs in utter joy, humming—humming deeply and you’re so obsessed with that sound that you come again, shuddering violently and he spanks you, holds you by your waist, digging in his fingerprints, allowing you to ride out your high, to use him until you’re so boneless that you slump against him. 

Jungkook drags you down, though, slipping, instantly, his cock inside of you. And it’s wild, wild butterflies that you feel in your gut owing to it, then pain so acute that you whine. Enveloping his arms around you, tightly, with no way of escaping, his wet face is so tender that you coo at him amidst the rush of your colorful feelings. Wipe away your dew, giggling, kissing him loudly as his cock adjusts in you and the bite from overstimulation withers little by little.

“You can take it, I know you can,” Jungkook whispers, beaming up at you, iridescent. “You feel so good around me. So tight. I love being inside of you.” 

Slowly, he begins to move, causing your features to scrunch up. In discomfort at first, then in relish as your stiffened nipples rub against the hardness of his chest. 

“You’re my good little girl. You take everything I give you so well. So well.” Jungkook picks up his pace, gathering your hair in his fist. Doesn’t pull on it; merely holds it. You whimper, his words loosening the overbearing tightness of your walls. “I’m gonna take care of you. You’re just my little baby. Mine—” A hard thrust. Your eyes roll back. “My baby.” 

“Yes, I’m yours,” you croak out and Jungkook takes your face in his hands and pounds into you until all you see is stars. Pretty, pretty twinkling stars. 

Slapping skin, his grunts—you don’t even see your orgasm coming, coming over you so violently and yet in such an exhilarating way. Your dew forces him out, forces his chuckles out again and he brings you back to him, kissing you, plunging his cock back with ease. 

You’re so lightheaded that you feel like an angel, soaring in the sky. An angel that years for something more. And you tell him. “Jungkook, please, I want the vibrator.” 

He merely smiles at you, arm reaching over and pulling out the toy for you from his bedside table. Turning it on, you’re radiated by the light in his eyes and you whimper in impatience. Jungkook shushes you, like a baby, clicking on the intensity until he’s satisfied, placing it on your clit. 

And then he gets up. 

Pushes you against his closet, back against the wood, legs around his waist, vibrator on your clit and his hand clasped around your mouth, preventing your loud moans from escaping while letting you know how much he loves being in charge. Giving you hard strokes that secure him your soul on a silver platter before he fucks you so fast that you can’t see anything. Your surroundings are a blur while his face remains clear, painted in tortured pleasure for you as if he were holding himself back. 

“Come for me, Daddy,” you beg under his palm, your sound muffled, but it seems that Jungkook understands you. 

Pulling away, he turns you around and gets into position again. One hand around your mouth, the other holding the toy on your clit, his dick inside. He begins to play with you, not moving his hips at all, only the vibrator. Panting against the crook of your neck, he takes a second to merely breathe with you while you’re on the pathway to another mind blowing orgasm because he turns up the intensity. “How about you come for Daddy first, hm? I know you don’t need me to move when we do this. You can come just like this. So come.” 

And you do, embarrassingly, whining all over the place, twisting your hips to chase your pleasure, causing him to emit the same sounds—causing him to pound you so hard against his closet that he, too, comes in mere minutes. His fingers in your mouth, he’s loud and just as whiny as you, fucking you through his orgasm as you play with digits, sucking on them. 

He doesn’t pull away for a long time. Presses you against his chest and holds you like that, still connected. The vibrator buzzes on the floor, the air is stuffed, but you’re content, the happiest angel, held and stuffed, too. With cum and dick. Heaven on earth. 

Jungkook begins to kiss your neck, marking you there. Fondles your nipples, making you shudder and sigh, making you utter the three words that he deserves. 

“I love you, Ggukie.” 

Jungkook makes a sound that tears you apart. A whimper; the whiniest you ever heard him be. He pulls out of you, but stuffs you again with his fingers. Makes you squirt in record time, kissing you everywhere he can reach. Neck, shoulder, jaw, cheek and lips. 

You must be soaring again in the clouds because you can’t feel your body, especially not when Jungkook says, “I love you, my little squirter.” 

Your knees do give out, after all. Jungkook is quick to pick you up and cradle you in his arms. Wash you clean in the shower. Put on a movie for you while making you food, joining you as soon as he can. 

It’s love you feel—love most profound. And as you eat the food together and finish the wine with drenched Vinny on the other side of the couch, you fall asleep with that love thrumming in your heart. 

You’ll be his for the rest of your life. And he’ll be yours, too. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

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[weird-is-life]

Shouldn't I want you?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: Spencer lets you break up with him, thinking he is not enough for you

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: angst, happy ending, arguments, mentions of ice-cream, lots of tears, swear words, use of y/n and pet names, mentions of Spencer being in prison

----------------------------------------------------

Spencer has been acting weird lately. And you don't know why. He's been so distant. Making different excuses on why he couldn't make it to the dates.

He's also started texting you less and less. And the calls just seem forced from your side, like he doesn't even want to speak with you while away on cases.

It's honestly breaking your heart, and maybe that's Spencer's plan. To just break your heart so you would break up with him.

It's making you so anxious that you wait everyday for the text from him that will say 'It's over. I'm breaking up with you.' But it doesn't come, and you don't know what to think of it. You don't even know why would he want to break up. You don't think that you've done anything wrong, and you are very certain that Spencer hasn't done anything wrong either. This whole thing is just so unusual.

On the one hand, Spencer is almost ghosting you, but on the other hand he doesn't want to break up? You are so confused about the whole situation.

You are crying over the break-up that hasn't even happened yet, watching your tv with a big bowl of ice cream in your lap. Spencer's supposed to come home today from a case, but you know he's not going to come to your apartment. He hasn't done that in the last few weeks, not since he's started being so distant.

So you sit in a pit of your tears, cheesy rom-coms and a bucket of ice cream. Suddenly, there's a knock on your door, and looking at the clock you know exactly who it is.

You panic, you didn't expect him to come. You quickly wipe your tears away, and hide the ice cream in the freezer. You know that you look puffy anyways as you open the door with a big sigh and a fake smile.

Spencer, of course, sees right through it.

"Hi- what's wrong?" Spencer immediately asks with a frown. He pushes you gently out of the doorway, and steps inside too as he closes the door.

"N-nothing," you lie, trying to force a smile on your face, "what...what are you doing here?"

A quick flash of hurt and confusion passes over Spencer's face, "I wanted to see you."

You suck in a shaky breath,"oh."

"Oh?" Spencer asks, baffled. "Seriously sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"Don't-Don't call me that," you whisper, eyes on the ground.

"What?" Spencer's eyes go wide, "I shouldn't call you sweetheart?"

You sigh, and look up at Spencer. He looks so lost by what you mean, and for a split of a second you think good, let him be confused. You've been confused for the last few weeks because of him. But then you remember that it's Spencer, still very much the Spencer you love.

"Yes, you shouldn't," you sniffle a little, "because it's only hurting me more."

"I-" Spencer starts.

"Spencer, just let me finish. I think that we both know that you don't want to be in a relationship with me anymore. So please Spencer, let's just not do this anymore. I can't keep going on like this, it's-it's just too much. It hurts too much," you say, your cheeks wet with tears yet again.

Spencer stays quiet, it's actually one of the rare times that he doesn't know what to say, and it just breaks your heart even more.

"Y-you won't even say anything? No reason why?" your voice breaks in the middle of the sentence. But looking at Spencer's teary eyes and completely shut mouth, you know, you two are done.

"I-It's over, Spencer. Please just go, you can come take your things some other day," you don't even wait for him to say anything. You go open the door and look anywhere, but him while he slowly leaves.

You don't have the courage to look at him. You hear him sniffle, but don't look. You can't see his broken face, it would be even worse than it already is.

Spencer leaves, and you slam the door shut behind him. It feels like your heart is being cut open by millions of tiny glass pieces as soon as the door closes.

You barely manage to walk towards the couch before you break down. Sobs violently shaking with your body.

-

A few days go by, and it's only when you don't pick up your phone on like the 20th try does Penelope march into your apartment.

You reluctantly open the door after she knocks, and knocks, insisting she's not leaving until you open the door.

"Hi," you greet her, and you immediately notice her slightly shocked face at the sight of you. And you get it. You haven't slept properly for the last few days, and the almost constant tears can't help either.

"Oh my gosh, honey, come here," Penelope instantly pulls you into an embrace, and you melt into it like a puddle.

She squeezes you tightly until you're ready to let go. "Pen, what...what are you doing here? Did Spencer send you?"

"Don't even say his name. He's in big, big trouble," she says in her own angry way. A small smile appears on your face when she says it.

"I can't believe he's done this. He can be such an idiot sometimes even if he really is a genius," you don't argue with that, but you don't want to talk about Spencer either. He's been on your mind enough as it is right now.

"Can we...can we not talk about it? I just want to get over it, and move on as soon as possible, "you sigh. You let Penelope in, and you want to make her go sit down to the living room while you make the tea, but she insists on staying in the kitchen with you.

"Believe me, honey, I wouldn't want to talk about Spencer if it wasn't important," she starts, and your mind immediately goes to the worst possible scenario.

Seeing your wide, worried eyes she adds, "he's okay. He's just stupid, that's all."

"Yeah," you agree quietly, even if you know that it's not true. Spencer maybe used to be clueless about things like relationships, but that has changed. He was never clueless in your relationship.

"Oh sweetheart, " Penelope rubs your shoulder in comfort, "I could beat him up for making you so sad."

Her very serious tone makes you let out a small chuckle. You and her both know that she wouldn't even hurt a fly let alone Spencer, her dear friend.

"Thanks, Penny, but it's okay, I'm okay. Spencer didn't want to be with me anymore, and i-i made my peace with that or-or at least i will eventually."

"But that's just it. That's what I came here to tell you. Spencer loves you, and he just let dumb people with dumb opinions get to his head," you almost burn yourself with the warm water for the tea when you hear her words.

"What do you mean?" you quizz. You forget about the tea, and turn to her.

"He'd heard some people talk about you and him. Some colleagues saw you two together somewhere, and started gossiping. He heard them say that you're too good for him with him being in prison and all-"

"What? That's just ridiculous," you exclaim, you've never heard such a bullshit before.

Of course, you know that Spencer was in prison, but you also know he was innocent. You knew Spencer even before he went to prison, and maybe he did change a bit, but he was still the same Spencer. The Spencer you've always been in love with.

"Exactly, I told him the same, but he wouldn't listen, " she looks sympathetically at you, "I think that Spencer just loves you so much that he's willing to let you go for better or worse."

You are stunned. You stand there absolutely baffled, and Penelope just looks at you with understanding. It takes you good few minutes to finally say something.

"You knew about this?" you question as you head towards the door with Penelope on your heels.

"No, I found out yesterday otherwise I would have told you sooner," you quickly put on your shoes as you listen to her.

"I know you would. Thank you for telling me this, Pen. You're the best," you give her a tight hug.

"He's at home right now," she tells you, you appreciatively smile at her, and basically run to your car with Spencer on your mind.

-

When Spencer opens his door, you instantly push yourself inside. You don't give him even a second to react, protest or say anything.

"Spencer Reid!" you start angrily. "I can't fucking believe you. You let us break up over some stupid gossip? And you didn't even tell me?" You say, hurt.

"It's not stupid, it's true-" Spencer starts calmly, a complete contrast to you. But on the inside he feels like he's going to pass out. It was already hard for him without seeing you, but now it feels like hundred times worse.

"Like hell it is!" you argue. "Spencer of course you're enough for me. I don't care what anyone says. It's not even true anyways. I don't care that you've been in prison, i don't care about any of it."

"But it is true. I'm no good for you. You can do so much better, sweetheart. Like look at me," he gestures towards himself, " I'm such a mess, my life is always messy. You don't deserve this kind of life, you deserve so so much better. You don't deserve to be waiting late at night for me to come home, wondering if i even come home. I can't let you have that kind of life. I'm not worth it."

Finally, Spencer lets the tears go down his cheeks freely. He knows what he is giving up by breaking up with you. He'd planned his whole life with you by his side. But it's better this way. Well that's at least what he is telling himself anyway.

"Don't you get it, Spencer?" you laugh dryly from the frustration, "I don't want better. I don't want anyone else. I just want you. I want you, Spence."

You sniffle slightly, and look at Spencer with hopeless eyes begging him to understand.

"You shouldn't, sweetheart, you shouldn't want me," Spencer tells you helplessly, running his hands through his hair.

You take a brave step towards him.

"Why shouldn't I?" you start. "Shouldn't I want the sweetest, the kindest person I know in my life? Shouldn't I want to be with the person that makes me smile, and makes my heart go fast? Shouldn't I want to be with somebody I completely trust? Shouldn't I want my best friend in my life forever? Shouldn't I want somebody who I feel safe with? Shouldn't I be with somebody I love the most?"

"So Spencer you tell me? Shouldn't i? Shouldn't i want you?" your cheeks are wet from the flowing tears, too.

Spencer shakes his head. You're impossible. How could he ever think that you'd just get over him without questioning why. He should have known better than that.

Spencer takes the final step that's between you two, and softly wipes away the tears from your puffy cheeks.

"I just want what's best for you," he whispers with a broken voice. Looking right into your watery eyes.

"Then let me have you!" You point at his chest with a sniffle. You see Spencer's face soften, like he finally understands.

Spencer's hands move from your cheeks to your hips, and he pulls you closer to him. "A-are you sure?"

"Spencer, you're unbelievable, " you say, vexed, "there's no one else for me Spence. No one."

Your words are the final thing for Spencer to breakdown, to allow himself to be with you. He pulls you towards him, hugging you oh so tightly. He hides his face into the space between your neck and shoulder. You feel the wetness of his tears run down your skin.

"There's no one else for me, too," he whispers into your shoulder. You hum in agreement, not ready to say anything yet.

After a few minutes you pull away, caressing Spencer's cheek you smile at him. "I love you," you mumble, "Please don't ever let people get to your head like this. At least not without telling me, yeah?"

"Yeah," Spencer says in hushed voice, leaning into your gentle touch. "I love you, thank you for not letting me be an idiot."

You both chuckle, sniffling, and it finally feels like it's all going to be okay. Like your worlds won't be ending after all.

You and Spencer go snuggle on his couch, content to be near each other again after the few days apart, and even if you know that there's still a conversation to be held tomorrow, you feel happy.

[yuujispinkhair]

Hi Winter~

I hope you're having a great day✨

Today is my birthday! Could I request something with modern boyfie Sukuna?

I love youuuuuuuuuuu🥺✨

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, BABE 💗 Have an amazing day!! I wish you all the love and happiness! Here is a little drabble ;)

SPENDING YOUR BDAY WITH BOYFIE SUKUNA

Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female) Fluff + mentions of smut. 18+. Minors don't interact.

Modern boyfie!Sukuna wakes you up with bday sex. And he makes sure to love his bday girl thoroughly, not stopping until you squeal his name and scratch his broad, tattooed back while he groans "Happy birthday, princess," against your neck.

He insists on carrying you princess-style to the bathroom afterward, cradling you in his strong arms and kissing your forehead. And when you jokingly ask him if carrying you around is part of his bday special, Sukuna grins that sexy boyish smirk at you and is like,

"Of course, I'm carrying you. My girl doesn't have to lift a single finger on her special day! What kind of loser would I be if I didn't take the best care of you?"

And you laugh and cup his tattooed cheeks and kiss him. Though, you know that Sukuna takes such good care of you all the time, not just on your birthday. You smile while soaking in the bathtub in your favorite bubble bath, your skin still tingling from Sukuna's kisses and touches while he is in the kitchen preparing your bday breakfast.

And then you are finally dressed and make it to the kitchen, your boyfriend's beautiful maroon eyes sparkle at you full of pride and love as he presents to you the birthday cake he made for you.

Sukuna spent three days working on it, baking all of it himself, and making all the decorations himself, too. It's truly a masterpiece, and you grin happily, imagining how much your dear boyfie must have cursed during the process anytime something didn't work the way he wanted. But it turned out perfectly. And he did all that for you. Because you are his love.

You hug Sukuna tightly, thanking him and unable to stop smiling as he turns you around so you can try the first piece of your cake while Sukuna stands behind you, his strong, tattooed arms wrapped around you, his tall body pressing lightly against your back. His large hands sprawl over your hips, and you can feel his smile against your neck when he kisses you there.

"I love you, princess. Happy birthday."

He lets you feed him cake later on, making you laugh when Sukuna rolls his eyes in pleasure and praises his own baking skills, though you agree with him because the cake really tastes heavenly.

But the cake isn't all Sukuna has planned. This day is only for you and him, and he takes you shopping later on and gives you the rest of your presents, beautiful flowers, and a necklace he saw you ogling once when you were window-shopping.

Sukuna's large, tattooed hand holds yours the whole time you stroll through the streets and the shopping malls. And you can't help but lean against him, smiling happily when you smell his sexy cologne and feel his buff biceps flex against your cheek.

In the evening, Sukuna leads you to your favorite restaurant, where he booked a table decorated with rose petals and candles. It's the most romantic dinner you've ever had, with Sukuna looking so sexy in the suit he is wearing for the special occasion and smiling that dazzling smile that is only reserved for you. He truly made you feel like a birthday girl today 💗

AWWW spending your bday with boyfie Sukuna sounds so sweet to me. I hope you enjoyed it!! Have a wonderful day 💗💗

Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs and comments would be sweet.

[jjunae]

NYC ⸺ sjy

❔ spiderman pays you a visit 〡 spiderman!jake x fmr warnings! lil implications of skinship, swearing ( LIBRARY )

‘are you upset?’

‘no, of course not. do i look upset?’ you asked, teeth grit, while you aggressively flipped through the pages of your book, hardly bothered to spare a glance towards his direction.

‘i don't know. pretty, can you look at me?’ jake pleaded, and you closed the textbook shut, eyes flitting towards the window. he was always there, in his red and blue, web-themed suit. you’d, eventually, grown a habit of leaving it open, just for him. 

‘don’t call me that.’

‘i knew you were mad. i promise, i'm not hurt,’ he said, his hand reaching to pull the mask off his face. you instantly jumped off your bed, scrambling over to him, to drag him inside your room. you slammed the shutters down, before turning to face him. 

‘are you fucking stupid? i’ve told you a million times! don’t pull it off, even if you’re just out my window,’ you snapped. it was evident you were irritable.  

‘sorry,’ he muttered, while he flung the cloth away. 

‘don’t throw your shit around my room,’ you grumbled, while he bent over to pick up the mask off your floor, quietly mouthing a “sorry”, yet again. 

you looked him up and down, your eyes scanning every inch of his body. he had a bloodied lip, and a couple of scrapes and cuts. not too much, you thought, while pulling out the first-aid box you’d kept for him. 

‘sit,’ you instructed, and so he did. he knew exactly where to sit; he’d been in this room at least a million times, for this very reason.  

‘i’m sorry,’ he started, causing you to furrow your brows. 

‘i really am. i didn’t mean to stand you up, something was happening down at oscorp, and you know jay works there, so i-’

‘wait. you think i’m upset because you stood me up?’ you cut him off, with a tilt of your head. 

‘yeah? i know you’d got us reservations, and i’m so sorry. i know it meant a lot to you, so i’ll make it up to you,’ he swore, a hint of confusion seeping into his eyes. 

‘jake, i’m not upset about that. i know you have a duty to fulfill,’ you murmured, hand reaching to push back the sweaty strands of hair falling over his forehead, ‘it’s just, i’m always so worried. i know i’m being silly, but i’m scared for you. i don’t know what’s happening to you, or what you’re doing. is it so hard to tell me where you are?’ you asked, your voice slightly quivering. 

‘no, i don’t like calling you. what if someone traces your number through my call records? i don’t want your safety to be compromised, but i guess that doesn't make sense, yeah? i mean, you’re always exposed to danger, because you’re close to me,’ he finished, with an awkward chuckle. 

‘i chose to be with you, even though i knew about you being spiderman. it was my choice, so quit acting like a hero; like you’re responsible for me, all the damn time. i’m my own human,’ you spat, grabbing him by his cheeks, looking into his eyes.

a part of you knew, he could’ve stopped your hand if he wanted to, but he didn’t. he was trying to understand you, though it was hard for him. god, if only he knew how much you loved him. 

‘okay,’ he said, slowly. 

‘okay,’ you nodded, letting go of him, and you both maintained a comfortable silence, while you patched up his cuts. 

‘what about my kiss?’ he complained, after a pause. it was (another) habit you had, kissing him after you were done helping him out.  

‘you’ll get it. be patient, spider-boy.’  

and, patient he was. sim jaeyun returned home as a happy man, with pink-colored smudges imprinted on his cheeks.

[bountydroid]

Darlin' pt 7

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt 5 / pt 6

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (SMUT)

Description: After a close call Cooper gives in to his feelings for Reader.

Notes: This chapter is half smut. For those who don’t want that I don’t think you’d miss anything of importance in the story if you skip it.

TW: p in v, unprotected sex, irradiated cream pie, pretty vanilla (sorry pervs lol love you I'm just not good at smut).

His scarred lips were rough against mine, one of his hands on my hip the other tangled in my hair. This was a moment I dreamed about my entire life. Someone who cares about me was never something I thought I’d have. While having a couple of fleeting flings here and there with my brother's friends, I never had a true romance. This feeling? It was straight out of one of my novels. When he finally pulled away, I couldn't help but let out a breathy sound of dissatisfaction. He gave me a teasing smile before taking the vials from my hand and shoving them into his bag.

"Let's go find you some Radaway, Darlin'. We’ll have ya feelin' better in no time." He said as he grabbed my hand and pulled me into the building.

"Thank god Lucy left the door open." I thought to myself as we made our way inside. 

The place was huge and felt like a relic of the past. The rundown storefronts and flickering lights left much to be desired. I pushed my body against Cooper's back as an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. Noticing my discomfort, he gave my hand a small reassuring squeeze. He was still in bad shape, clear as day, as he stumbled through the building.

After some exploration, we came across a room full of bodies. "Didn't know Lucy was capable of this." I gasped.

"I imagine these fellas did most of it." He said, kicking the boot of one of the men on the ground. He was holding a gun, but it didn't seem to have done him much good. While Cooper scanned the bodies, looking for anything of value, I started to wander over to some of the other rooms. One room in particular caught my eye, some of the things inside reminding me of the medical center we found Roger in.

"Don't go far," Cooper said as he huffed another vial before rummaging through the men's pockets.

"I won't," I mumbled as I looked back at him one more time before entering the room. I swallowed nervously as I looked around the room before setting my sights on some drawers in a cabinet. After some searching, I could some syringes with the word "Radaway" written on the side. 

"Found some!" I said happily as I made my way back to Cooper to find him shoving vials of Jet into his hat. “That's so much!" I yelled in shock.

The happiness radiating from the two of us could have probably lit up a city. He looked up at me with the biggest smile I have ever seen on him before his eyes flitted to the syringe in my hand. He dropped his hat on the ground as he held out his hand expectantly. 

"Let me help you with that." He stated.

I was perfectly capable of injecting myself, but I liked the idea of Cooper taking care of me, so after a moment of hesitation I passed it to him. While he was looking over the syringe, almost like he was making sure it wasn't fake, I took the time to look over his face. REALLY look it over. His leathery tan skin and his beautiful hazel eyes. I knew that many people looked at him with disgust, but I don't think that after getting to know him I could ever think of him as anything other than beautiful. I was so lost in thought I barely registered the needle going into my arm.

"There," He said with a satisfied tone. "All better."

"Thanks, Coop." I beamed up at him. I had some Radaway, Cooper had a lot of Jet, and he finally kissed me. Everything felt perfect. 

Cooper knelt down to pick back up his hat when something caught his eye. A rectangular black box with glass on the front. 

"What is that?" I asked curiously.

"That, darlin'." He responded, a look of shock on his face, "That is a television."

I ruminated on the word, trying to figure out if I knew it from anywhere as he grabbed something and inserted it into the television. He slowly made his way to the couch and plopped down. The expression on his face was something I couldn't recognize. Amazement? I sat down next to him as I looked at the television curiously, whatever it was it was affecting Cooper. The box sprang to life, lighting up as he pressed a button on the controller he was holding. The television played a video. "Of course!" I thought to myself as I remembered the stories of moving pictures. The man on the video reminded me a lot of Cooper. The western attire, the confidence, and of course the gun he was holding. 

"Reminds me of you," I said innocently, not realizing the weight of my words.

"Nah, He ain't nothin' like me." He said quietly before looking over at me to scan my face before looking back at the video.

The man in the video was talking and I was trying to pay attention, I really was, but It was so long since I had sat anywhere but the ground, and while under normal circumstances I would call the couch uncomfortable, it felt like the most comfortable thing in that moment. I put my head on Cooper's shoulder and yawned. 

"Tired already, sugar?" Cooper teased.

"Maybe a lil' bit," I admitted. "I could stay up a bit longer, though."

"For what?" He mused, almost like he knew what I was thinking. 

I giggled, blush coating my cheeks as I whispered, "Maybe some more kissing?"

He hummed happily before pulling me onto his lap. I yelped in surprise at his sudden movement, grasping at his shoulders. “Now why would you want to kiss lil’ old me?” He was mostly joking, but an undertone of seriousness hung in the air.

“A better question is why wouldn’t I want to kiss you, Cooper? You are strong, you take care of me, you are handsome-“ I started to explain.

He scoffed, interrupting me. “I ain’t handsome.”

“You are!” I try to explain, “You have pretty eyes.” I said like I did days ago, back when he barely tolerated me. “And the way ya hold yourself is very… sexy.”

His eyes snapped up to mine, they were darkening, hungry. The embarrassment coursed through me and I could hardly stand it, so I buried my face in his neck.

“Awww getting shy, sugar?” He mocked. Before I could respond I felt his lips on my cheek. He stayed there for a moment before he started trailing down my neck, leaving tiny kisses in his wake.

I sighed happily as I pushed myself closer to him. I could’ve stayed that way forever, but Cooper had other plans. His hands were still on my hips from when he pulled me onto him. He slowly started to massage them before pressing me harder down on his lap. I let out a sound that was a mixture between a yelp and a moan.

“You like that?” He whispered in my ear.

I shook my head yes, my face still hidden in his neck.

“I wanna see you, darlin’.” He stated, his southern drawl slurred. He wasn’t demanding it, the tone in his voice was soft and hesitant, like he was worried he was going to scare me off.

Holding my breath I slowly pushed myself up. I was sure my face was red as a tomato as I made eye contact with him. When our eyes met, it felt like a damn had been released, lust flowing through me. “Coop,” I whisper before I start moving my hips on my own.

He let out a growl as he squeezed at my plush hips. “So soft.” He said.

“All for you, I’m all for you,” I say before crashing my lips into his.

The kiss was heady and passionate, I felt like I was drowning in him.

“Too many clothes,” I mumble against his mouth. Before I started to tug at his tattered duster jacket.

“I agree,” he sighed. Instead of helping me with his jacket, he ripped my hands from him and quickly tugged off my shirt, almost tearing it in the process. He sucked in a breath as he took in my bare chest. It was a sight to behold. Hair messy, half naked, and pupils blown. There was no way he could question if I wanted him, not anymore.

“God damn.” He groaned before leaning forward to kiss my chest. It’s like he wanted to kiss every inch of my body and I was starting to get impatient.

“Stop your teasin’,” I grumbled out, tugging at his jacket again.

This time, he obliged, quickly shucking it off before his hands started fumbling at his vest buttons. I cursed at him for wearing so many layers. I took this time to slide off his lap to take off my boots and pants, leaving me in nothing but my underwear. His hands stuttered as he threw off his vest and pulled off his shirt, distracted by the view in front of him.

“You, sugar, are way too good for me.” He muttered, his hands reaching out to pull me back onto his lap.

I moaned at the feeling of his rough jeans rubbing against me through my underwear. I could feel myself getting wetter, smearing my arousal on his pants. I rubbed my hands down his scarred chest before finding myself fiddling with his buckle.

“You want me?” I asked as I bit my lip. “Then take me.”

This seemed to flip a switch in him as he quickly spun me around so my back was on the couch. He hovered over me before kissing me fervidly. I undid his belt before popping open the button on his pants. He briefly pulled away from me to pull on his pants completely before slotting himself back on top of me.

“Darlin’,” he moaned as he rubbed his erection against my core.

I was so lost in the feeling I could barely respond, “Yeah?” I moaned out.

“There was more Radaway, right?” He asked. It was sweet that even in his lustful state he was still worried about me.

“Yes, Coop.” I responded, “Now fuck me already.”

He chuckled before mocking me, “So eager.”

He continued to tease me as he slowly pulled down my underwear, kissing down my legs as he went. I started to get dizzy, the arousal was becoming too much to bear. Finally, he pulled my panties off completely, kissing his way back up my body. I widened my legs as far as they could go, silently beckoning him inside of me. I heard him curse under his breath before slowly pushing himself into me. We let out moans in tandem, reveling in the feeling.

I put my hand on the back of his head and pulled him down so our foreheads were knocking against each other. I looked deeply into his eyes before I started to plead, “Fuck me, Cooper. Make me feel good. Please!”

“I could never say no to you.” He whispered before sheathing himself completely, his head brushing against that sweet spot inside of me.

He gave me a peck on the lips before trailing down my neck again, sucking as he went. The idea of having marks on me that everyone would see made me moan loudly. He was claiming me as his. I started to wiggle, silently begging him to move. After a few moments, he gave in, starting slow. It was intimate, sweet even. He wasn’t fucking me he was making love to me. He had barely started but I was already a babbling mess. Repeating his name like a prayer I begged for him to go faster. It didn’t take long for him to oblige, picking up his pace. The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room. The bodies on the floor were long forgotten as we got lost in each other.

“Y/n,” he groaned my name, causing me to squeeze around him. “Sugar, you keep feeling this good I’m not gonna last long.”

I was feeling too good to respond, letting out soft squeaks and moans as he pistoned in and out of me. He snaked his hand down my body to start rubbing at my clit, causing my body to tremble. I was close and he knew it, trying to get me to the edge before he arrived there himself.

“Cooper!” I cried out as I convulsed underneath him, succumbing to the pleasure. I could hear him swearing above me before he stilled, letting out one last moan as he came inside of me.

The both of us were breathing heavily. Saying we were exhausted would have been an understatement. He took a moment before starting to pull out of me. I let out a sad whimper at the lack of contact, grasping at his arms. He let out a breathy laugh at my actions. “I’ll be back.” He said, reassuring me. I watched him with half-lidded eyes as he went into the medical room for a moment before coming back to me with another syringe of Radaway.

I snorted, “That could have waited.”

He didn’t respond, instead opting to give me a smirk before sinking the needle into my arm. Once he was done he grabbed ahold of me, rolling us over so he was underneath me on the couch.

As he was rubbing reassuring circles on my back he told me, “Sleep, darlin’.”

I hummed happily into his chest before giving way to his request.

Tag list: @bruhidkjustwannaread @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @whizbang-cap @topiramateagreeable @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @fallout-girl219 @savanahc @booksbabes @gauky76 @green--beanie @fanfictiongirly23 @gobbodoggo @erissco @helveticabold @katgirl05 @tfamidoingwithmylife @miketastic25 @alex-does-art-things

[tragedy-of-commons]

lay your life down and pretty

various hsr x gn!reader | wc: ~2k

In which you die (or they've already lost you).

tags/warnings: character death (reader), it's implied in dh's part but explicit and semi-graphic in hanya's, descriptions of mara and the insanity that comes with it, hardcore angst, hurt no comfort, there may be Lore Inaccuracies

notes: this was originally supposed to be four parts. i'm sorry it's only two but it's just been uhhh... hope you enjoy & thanks for the incredible support lately <3

Dan Heng makes the best pancakes.

You’ve expressed this undeniable fact to his face multiple times, louder in their progression just to see the tips of his ears burn that endearing red. These declarations are reserved for breakfast. At this time you also chide him for trying to weasel his way out of eating the most important meal of the day!

And he’d sigh, letting you hound him about food options until he’d crack under the weight of your grin and end up mixing batter at 7:30 in the morning.

(“I tried flipping them in the air once and the pancake slapped me in the face,” you’d regaled, head resting idly on your fist.

Dan Heng stared into the black of the skillet. “...Somehow, I don’t doubt it.”

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” you huffed.

He almost let not-quite laugh slip then, but because of his stuck-uppery, he just managed to look peeved. “I would appreciate it if you passed me the butter.”)

Instead it is around 9:00 in the morning, and Dan Heng is alone. 

He’d stayed up late the night before doing some reading, causing him to oversleep and rush the process today. He’s almost burned his hand on the stove eye twice, nearly dropped an egg on the floor, and has just narrowly avoided burning the batch. Dan Heng is not clumsy (not like you were), and he is painfully aware that he is late.

After he plates the food, the oven clock reads 9:19. He gathers everything, including two sets of utensils and one awkward wad of napkins - before setting the table by heart. Your plate goes in front of the chair closest to the window, and his goes in front of the one adjacent to yours. 

The rhythm of distributing each item eventually leaves him with empty hands. Everything is ready, but there is still something colossal missing from the scene.

Dan Heng stares hard at your empty seat before taking his own. 

The pancakes are blackened around the edges, but it’s nothing a good heaping portion of syrup can’t fix, and the smell that wafts upward is sweet and inviting. The sun’s rays shining in from the outside world paint the kitchen in flecks of light that occasionally catch on his arm when he brings his fork to his mouth.

Resigned, his silverware clatters noisily to the table.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, “I’m sorry that I was late.”

Predictably, there’s no response. Dan Heng’s throat feels like it’s closing up on him, and the syrup definitely isn’t helping. He dabs his mouth with his napkin for a good long while.

He is sorry. It wasn’t enough that he’d stayed up late the night before, but that he deliberately kept glancing at the clock and counting the hours until daylight arrived - reminding himself that if he drifted off, the next day would come much sooner.

He isn’t the type to procrastinate either. Even when you’re not here anymore, you seem to have a profound effect on his character. Dan Heng pinches the bridge of his nose. The sound of his voice echoing off the walls of the lonely kitchen is unwelcome. “Happy birthday.”

It’s strained, imperfect, and painful; which only serves to remind him of your insistence on celebrating his birthday as well. You had practically prostrated yourself at his feet, begging him to let you fuss over him - even if it made his vision hazy and palms sweaty. He needs to return the favor, even if the mere idea of another important date passing him up without you makes him want to hide.

So here he is. 

Here he is, floundering terribly, missing you terribly, loving you terribly. Dan Heng wrenches his hand from its secure position in his lap to drum on the table.

“I got you something,” he says. “I… I didn’t know which color you’d prefer more, so…”

You’d tease him into an early grave if you were able to see the knitted oven mitt he’d picked out over two months ago. It’s an almost hideous shade of teal that he’s sure you’d love, especially since you forced him to bake with you regularly.

(He was shopping with March 7th when he’d seen it and then reflexively dumped it into his basket. His companion only asked him if he was planning on using it as kindling for the fireplace.)

Dan Heng closes his eyes and slides it over to your placement. For a second, he almost fools himself into thinking you might magically appear to brush fingers when you accept the gift with a bright smile. He has no such luck.

Your breakfast is getting colder, and there’s nothing to be done today; his friends, as much as he can say he appreciates them - also meddle quite a bit. His schedule was mysteriously cleared up and he was gently encouraged to go home and take the day off. The feeling of three pairs of eyes drilling holes into his back as he complied was a bit too potent to be coincidental.

So he sits there and pretends he’s eating with you for as long as he can. The stutters in the familiar rhythm that comes with today are things he can smooth out over time, even if it feels like a betrayal to you. You would never see it like that, which is why he can even live in a home without you in it at all.

(The oven mitt rests beside your full plate until the afternoon, because he cannot bring himself to clean up just yet. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready to.)

Dan Heng is not a man who can afford to hope, but he’s already been in debt since the moment of his birth. If just one of his prayers is granted, he hopes it’s the one he runs through his mind every night:

In the next life, please let us cross paths again. And if there’s room for it, please let me love you for as long as I can.

He’s never been one for optimism, but it’s all he looks forward to.

Hanya’s hands cradle the expanse of your face.

Her fingers ghost over any healthy glow remaining in your cheeks. You’re slipping, rightfully so, but does it make her a monster if she wants to claw and rifle through the sands of time to search for any universe where you were spared from this cruel fate?

(She thinks it does.)

You can’t get the words out, but there’s a resigned film that glazes over your eyes - one that tells her that she needn’t lie about where you’ll be going. Your mouth forms silent syllables punctuated by wheezes that will surely send her careening under the depths of the unconscious at record speed.

“Han.. ya,” you croak, “Stay.”

“I will,” she promises, because she needs to - over and over, until you remember it always, even when you’re gone. Even when you’re suffering through the last moments of your fledgling life. “I will remain here.”

Her duty as a Judge of the Ten-Lords Commission is to oversee life and death on the Xianzhou. When Hanya drifts aimlessly like a spectre between inky darkness and blinding daylight, it has occasionally struck her that one day she might have to oversee yours.

Presently, your mind is being swallowed by the maw of mara, a madness that she’s all too familiar with; faced with her dull countenance, she must have witnessed thousands succumb to the fate of infernal life. 

“D-Don’t cry,” you beseech. There isn’t much time until you’re no longer Hanya’s secret reprieve, but instead a writhing abomination - and she only has herself to blame. Had she not embraced you so tightly, would you be free of this curse? Would you still be smiling and dragging her by the hand through Exalting Sanctum?

“I will not send you there,” she breathes, “You are not deserving of—”

The agonizing cry you let out next is still beautiful. Even now you can mitigate the emptiness that’s dug its claws in her heart so deep that it’s become symbiotic with the organ. However, instead of the empty, Hanya feels its distant relative: the pins and needles. The hollow white noise crackles until she’s pierced with an arsenal of skeletal knives.

She could take it, and she would take it, if it meant that you weren’t about to die and then awaken again as a monster that desecrates the very concept of you.

She releases your now matching tear-stricken cheeks before seizing both of your arms. The thrashing has crept in, meaning that there isn’t much time before you start sprouting leaves and weeds like a statue abandoned by its devotees. 

A sharp inhale through clenched teeth. “You have… to. M’gonna hurt—” you convulse in her grasp, “—somebody...”

Of course you’re worrying about others right now. Kindness is a relic of the past that you’ve somehow managed to exhume, restore to its full glory, and gift to Hanya like she deserves to touch others’ lives in the same way you have. 

Every shopkeep knows your name, face, voice, and smile. Your warmth is infectious - even before she knew you in person, she knew of you by word of mouth. Xueyi had told her that the reason Huohuo was so resolute in her duties lately was because of “the person who defeated a bunch of reprobate hooligan bullies tormenting her”. 

If her big sister held you in high regard, she figured you were one she wouldn’t mind exchanging greetings with if you ever crossed paths. However, the thing about you is that you always give more than you take; you too eventually gave her your smile over tea, your opinion on her writing, and a perspective from the light she usually only smothers upon first contact. 

It seems that it was just a matter of time before Hanya extinguished you.

“You are not ready,” she begs pitifully, “You are not!”

She knows it’s never about being ready. Bad things always happen to good people - to sons, daughters, friends, big sisters, and lovers.

Lovers. 

The word is foreign on the tip of her tongue. It’s strange to be actualized and even stranger to ascribe that label to your relationship, but Hanya doesn’t know what else to think when the knives stab her over and over to the elegy of I love you, I love you, I love you.

The trek from Fyxestroll Garden to the Alchemy Commission is sizable. The Dragon Lady could see you and do her best, but she’s seen where that’s led; best efforts gone to waste, inconsolable loved ones given false hope because they were too stubborn to let go.

Is that what she is? Too stubborn to let you go, even when she’s brought this karma upon you?

(Yes, something ugly whispers, this is your penance. Now it’s theirs too.)

“I...” you let out a strangled groan, and when your chest jerks upwards, it barely registers that you brush your lips against hers. There’s tears and snot everywhere, and you’re getting stronger - too strong for her to hold. Hanya’s forearms ache with the strain as gingko leaves begin to ravage your humanity and rip you apart.

The transformation process is cruel, but she promised to remain by your side. Twigs protrude from your neck, nestled between thorny brambles that poke and prod. You are not a Cloud Knight, so your screams aren’t muffled by armor - or muted by the numbness she feels when dealing with other cases. 

It’s too real, it’s too much, and it’s not enough.

Drowned out by the previous mantra of I love you, the background vocals of I’m so sorry peter off into whispers that are soon lost among the sickening squelch of Xueyi’s blade cutting through you in one clean motion. The tip of the sword rests over Hanya’s heart, stained with your blood.

“...That’s not them anymore,” her sister says. It’s off-kilter, the way her brow is furrowed in a silent apology.

One can only hope.

taglist: @flower-yi, @moineauz, @aphrodict, @nomazee

[ultimate-chickennougat]

| I just want attention! |

Toji Fushiguro x Wife!Reader (Requested!)

Asking Toji for a divorce.

Word Count: 1.5k

CW: SFW, domestic mostly fluff and some angst, happy ending.

A/n: TYSM to the anon who requested! I'm not very experienced with writing angsty stuff so if it's bad my apologies. (Also tag: @chilichopsticks)

From the moment you met Toji, he was nothing but a gentleman to you. Maybe that was why you fell so hard and so quickly, so that when he was on one knee with a ring you didn’t hesitate at all after only a few months of being together. 

He always swept you off your feet, when you got off work he picked you up and took you wherever you wanted to go. He always tried to make you happy and spend as much time with you as possible, buying you flowers when you got a promotion and taking you to an early screening of a movie from your favorite franchise, were only a few of the many things he would do often for you.

All he asked for in return, was for you to accept him, faults and all. He had made mistakes in the past, and still worked as an assassin, which was the only job he felt he was well suited for. With you in mind, he quit his gambling habit. After so many loses he finally got some sense knocked into him and decided to saved up his money, so that the moment the two of you tied the knot you wouldn’t have to work at all. 

To most, Toji was seen as arrogant, if not invisible since he kept to himself, something that you never understood. On the day of your wedding, you were picked up in his arms and carried directly to the car, where he drove the two of you to your honeymoon destination right after the ceremony and fuss was over. Two weeks of hot springs and relaxing in a small town awaited you, where your husband doted on you more than ever. Every morning you awoke to a sweet kiss on your forehead, and warm arms engulfing you, making you wish you could sleep forever in the comfort of his protection.

You made sure to snap plenty of shots of walking around to the different shrines and temples, and your husband wearing a yukata which he realized he was rather fond of. By the end of your trip you were more in love with him than ever, and even more ready to embrace a wonderful life as his wife in your new home. 

Somewhere in your heart you knew that feeling might not last forever, the butterflies you got every time Toji was around you. But everyone always said the honeymoon phase lasted at least a few months… not the length of the actual honeymoon. Nothing your family and friends had said about marriage prepared you for this reality, that the fade to normal life would be so sharp.

By the time the two of you got back to the house, your husband was already heading right back to work as usual. You kept yourself busy with unpacking all the boxes and setting things up around the house, but in a way that only made getting used to a routine harder. Toji didn’t come back for four days, being on a job he got unexpectedly. 

His quick call barely did anything to calm your nerves. He was always so careful about telling you about his work before the two of you were married, trying not to worry you. Of course you knew Toji was strong, and you tried not to doubt him, but you could barely sleep from thinking about it. Now living with him you could feel his absence by the empty side of the bed and the single plate of food on the dining room table. 

As soon as he was back, you were overjoyed by his presence, almost thinking that feeling you were missing had returned. But, it wasn’t for long. No matter how many hobbies you took up at home, or how many friends you made in your new neighborhood, the absence of your husband would always bother you. When he was right in front of you, he was still the gentleman you always remembered, who you loved with every ounce of your being. But when he was away, you couldn’t help but wonder if he thought about you as much as you did about him. If he even missed you, he was gone so often for his assignments. As weeks turned to months, it blurred into routine and so did the wall that started to grow between the two of you.

That day, you had finally had enough. After contemplating it in your head for a few weeks, you realized that the two of you were still relatively new into your marriage, and you could still probably get your job back even if things changed. Of course you still loved him, and you couldn’t imagine your life without him, but right now, that was almost what you were living. He got less and less affectionate every time he came home, and it was too stressful to have to worry every day that he got home safe in a job that you didn’t fully understand, as he couldn’t tell you much for your own safety.

You had promised him you would stay by his side for anything, but he had done the same for you. And right now, neither of you were anywhere near each other. Toji had no idea you had taken up watching the neighbor’s kid after school some days, or that you baked a fresh loaf of bread at the start of every week, something he was never there to try. You didn’t know where he was or sometimes for how long, not getting much more than a promise that he’d come home safe. 

“Smells good, what’d you make?” Toji inhaled deeply as he walked into the house. For the first time in your marriage he was home on a Monday, bread making day. “It’ll be ready soon,” you referred to the loaf sitting on a cooling rack. You forwent the normal welcome, though you did it so rarely that it seemed to go unnoticed. Making a cup of coffee to go with a slice of the bread, you shifted you feet uncomfortably, making Toji watch your movements carefully. “Thanks,” he muttered, grabbing the bread off the plate while you sat down in front of him. 

The two of you sat in silence. Starting it off with that question felt far too daunting. “Y’know what, I was thinking we should take a vacation,” he started, “for a week or two.” You lifted your head up to look at him. “Haven’t done that in awhile, huh,” he groaned, hand rubbing his neck at your bland expression. 

He dropped his hand and sat up straight when he saw your face change. Your eyes, usually so cheerful and lovely, looked only of pain as they flooded with tears. “Toji, you know that I love you, I…” he watched you carefully as you spoke. “I… just can’t do it anymore,” you started to breath deeply, turning away to avoid your husband’s eyes. 

Toji grabbed your hand softly, encouraging you to squeeze it back as he listened. “I love you too, okay? Just talk to me,” he muttered, trying to decrease the tension though he knew in his gut what you were going to say. Clearly it had been on your mind for a while, you just wanted to get it over with. “I miss you, a lot, but I know you’ve got your work and everything,” you grasped his fingers, pressing into them lightly. “But I just don’t know what I’m doing here, aside from worrying about you. I’m not even doing anything for you.”

Tears flooded down your cheeks as Toji reached up to wipe them away with his thumb. “Maybe we just shouldn’t be together,” as much as he was prepared for your words, they still hit him like a ton of bricks. If only he could express how special every moment the two of you had together was to him, and how excited he was to make new ones. “I love you, okay? I didn’t marry you for nothin’, remember that.” 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I don’t want to be without you, but my work takes me away a lot.” Toji frowned, realizing your apprehension to fall into his arms was something he should have noticed beforehand. “I’ll quit, I’m serious. I just want you to be happy, okay? I don’t want to get divorced.”

“It’s not just that, it’s-” he tucked you into his chest. “You’re right, just calm down and we can talk about it,” you nodded against the fabric of his shirt. “I just want some attention, it’s like we don’t even know each other sometimes,” you whined, wrapping your arms around him as well. He smiled as you brought your head out, face dry of tears but still a bit pink. “I want to learn everything about you, yeah? Like how’d you get so good at baking…” he bit off a chunk of bread, now room temperature and slathered in butter. 

“This isn’t the time for joking, I just told you I wanted to get divorced,” you sulked as Toji laughed. “I’m just glad you changed your mind,” he let out a sigh of relief. “I still want to talk about this, but let’s leave it off for a bit,” he held you tighter, “I’d rather relax before I have to tell Shiu I’m quitting…”

[vivwritesfics]

Hold Me Close

okay so i've been in this situation, but it played out very differently. I just want to in some way experience it in a nicer way than i actually did.

She doesn't want a baby. Spencer comforts her through a pregnancy scare

When he was younger, Spencer Reid hadn't wanted kids. His own childhood hadn't been the best (not through the faults of his mother, Spencer loved her more than anything in the world), and he wasn't confident in his ability to look after a child.

But then JJ had Henry. Spencer had been, admittedly, freaked out by her pregnancy. But then he met Henry, the sweetest little bundle of flesh out there.

And then JJ had Michael and Morgan had his child. Spencer really could see himself coming around to the idea.

The only problem was finding somebody, somebody he loved, somebody he wanted to have a child with.

Spencer never expected to meet her after his stint in prison. He was damn near forty. And she was significantly younger, only in her twenties. Spencer had resisted. for the longest time he had resisted. But she wanted him just as much as he wanted her.

It didn't take long for them to collide, lips and tongue and teeth clashing together in a way the others didn't expect from their resident genius.

Spencer was full of regret after the first time. He remembered being her age, remembered all of the things he'd gone through at that age. And, to him, that was a lifetime ago. He'd completed countless cases, saved countless lives.

But she was patient with him. She stayed by his side, she took care of him in a way Spencer hadn't expected. It was hard not to fall in love.

Spencer knew she was young, knew that, where he might have been ready for a child, there was a chance she wasn't after a year together, after a year of being careful when they had sex, a year of wearing condoms and taking birth control, they had their first pregnancy scare.

She hadn't felt right for weeks, tried to convince herself it was just a stomach bug. But there was that feeling in the back of her mind, the one that told her she needed to take a test.

So, while she was cuddled up against Spencer, hands clutching her stomach as he read, she looked up at him. "Spence," she squeaked, and he tightened his arm around her.

The way she asked him to walk to the store with her, he'd never heard her sound so vulnerable before. Spencer couldn't say no to her if he tried. He held her hand the entire time, as they picked up the box of tests, as he paid for them.

And as soon took one, as she peed on the stick and set it down, he waited with her. She sat on the closed toilet lid and Spencer sat on the edge of the bathtub.

He couldn't help but watch the way she she hugged herself, eyes cast downwards as she waited for the results.

"C'mere," Spencer whispered and opened his arms.

Immediately she sat beside him and tucked herself into his side. "I'm sorry," she said as fat tears rolled down her cheeks.

Spencer kissed the top of her head. "You have nothing to he sorry about," he whispered, lips still against her hair. "What... what do you want to do if it's positive?"

It wasn't something they'd discussed before. Spencer knew he was ready for children, but she was so much younger, and she hadn't spoken to him about it before.

She shook her head, eyes squeezed shut as she buried her face against his chest. "I can't, Spencer," she cried. "I can't keep it."

"Okay," he said and rubbed her back soothingly.

After the seven minutes they checked the test. Negative. She was so happy she could have cried. "Thank God," she whispered and threw the negative test away.

It had taken it all out of her. With a hand on the small of her back, Spencer guided her back to the bed. He held her until she fell asleep, reading to her.

[cupidhoons]

twitch streamer ⟡ lhs

syn gamer! bf heeseung hcs / thoughts!

wc 639 && trope est relationship fmr mlist

note 🗒️ ; starting off small to get my motivation back </3 for @lilacnini and the gc ofc 😇 enjoy reading!

gamer bf! heeseung who stays up late at night to stream

gamer bf! heeseung who tries his best to not wake you up while he streams — he avoids screaming and yelling

gamer bf! heeseung who would end his stream and stop playing his games if you wanted his attention or if you needed anything from him

gamer bf! heeseung who leaves his stream on accidentally on day, and his viewers could hear you and him laughing in the other room together

gamer bf! heeseung who realizes that what he did, and laughs it off and tells you his idea of teasing his fans about your relationship with him

gamer bf! heeseung who soft launches your relationship which makes his fans go insane

gamer bf! heeseung who asks you if you wanted to go public before doing anything rash, and you say yes

gamer bf! heeseung who turns on his stream on a random day to do a random Q&A with you and his fans

"hi chat! I'm not going to be playing today, sorry. i am with my girlfriend though! say hi y/n!"

you enter in the frame with a bright smile. "hi! I'm heeseung's girlfriend! surprising that he even knows a girl, right?" You giggle softly and heeseung only chuckles

"yeah yeah whatever...lets start today's stream shall we?" he jokingly rolls his eyes at your joke.

You look at the live chat that was moving at a face pace — you could tell that his fans were very much excited in meeting you.

After the stream ended, you very much had a whole fanbase — and heeseung? well, he's just there. fans eventually found your instagram account (you didn't mind, of course) and immediately started thirsting over you — boy was heeseung having a field day after revealing you to his fans

gamer bf! heeseung who does more streams with you in the background talking to him or engaging with his fans

gamer bf! heeseung who listens to you very attentively when you start speaking — to which fans start joking around how "down bad" he is for you (they aren't wrong, he looks at you with pure adoration)

gamer bf! heeseung who gets jealous (jokingly) when his fans start asking you to be their girlfriend instead

gamer bf! heeseung who starts beefing with his own fans, telling them to back off his girl

"chat shut up, y/n is mine and mine only!!" he says with pure sass in his voice. he knows it's a joke, of course, but it doesn't hurt to play along right? after all, you are his gorgeous girlfriend and not anyone else's.

besides all the jokes and jealously, when he has the opportunity to talk about you — he will. trust me. he will always have something to say about you — how pretty you are, how you always have the best outfits, how much he loves you — there was no denying that he was in love.

gamer bf! heeseung who sometimes lets you play his games as you sit on his lap, teaching you how to play

gamer bf! heeseung who praises you for playing so well — even if you died 300 times beforehand

gamer bf! heeseung who posts you on all his social medias

gamer bf! heeseung who makes his whole instagram account look like a fanpage for you

gamer bf! heeseung who goes shopping for a pc with you when you said you wanted to start playing games with him even if you weren't the best at games

gamer bf! heeseung who makes a minecraft server for you and his friends to play on — making it a series

gamer bf! heeseung who proposes to you in minecraft and plans a whole minecraft wedding for the both of you

gamer bf! heeseung who you do eventually end up marrying and having a happy life with

permanent taglist (open — send an ask to be added) ; @kyoaeri @copyhanni @lilacnini

[alwaysshallow]

i'm thinking of john price and reader, childhood best friends. you're close with him basically from second grade. inseparable, even when he went to the military and the daily talks weren't possible. you wrote letters to him nonetheless, describing what exactly happened, so he wouldn't miss a thing. he's too important for you to lose, and he thinks the same way about you to.

maybe that's why you two made a promise to each other that if you two are gonna be single till 40, you two will marry. after all, what is so wrong in marrying your best friend? nothing, and if it means sticking with each other to the end, then so be it. he was gonna be here anyway, till the end.

you even made a small paper, like it was some sort of agreement or something like that.

with years, you think it's some sort of joke because even if you have boyfriends, no one really sticks and sooner or later, they leave. john, on the other hand, has no one - says he's too busy with the military and flings are better, so you don't pay mind to that too much.

and you probably should. almost all of your “boyfriends” left you because he was, and still will be the problem. he’s too close, acting way too friendly, scaring your boyfriends off or simply threatening them - and, getting the job done. your latest ex-boyfriend knows something about it, considering that he landed in the hospital with several broken bones:/ 

it’s your blind faith in john that is a problem too; you simply can’t believe that a man, so gentle and so friendly could harm anyone. after all, all he wants is you to be happy, right?? that’s why you haven’t caught up in his lies.

“they’re simply not worthy,” he muses, kissing the top of your head. “men these days… disappointing, aren’t they?” 

“you could introduce me to someone.” you roll your eyes with a smile, when he shakes his head. “haven’t you told me that military men are the best?”

“i did,” he starts, leaning against the frame, “but that’s only me. others are… filthy. possessive, obsessive, acting like they possess you whenever they have eyes on you.”

“and you?” you raise your eyebrow.

“i am your best friend. that’s something entirely different, love.”

and the conversation ends on that; you remember them when he puts an engagement ring on your finger, on the day of his 40th birthday.

[c-nstantine]

to be a muse

Description: Benedict meets a fascinating young woman

Word Count: 0.9K

Warnings: I think I made Benedict a bit of a himbo but that's okay. the reader is still black and even though she's charlotte's daughter, I made it so she's any skin tone which lowkey makes sense given how wild genetics work

Benedict stared at the painfully blank canvas of his family's drawing room. Hyacinth's and Gregory's laughter could be heard running about in the family's home. Kate and Anthony were doing god knows what, honestly, he felt like he was going to throw up from the love that came from the both of them.

"Brother, I fear I'm in a rut," Benedict announced while plopping himself down in between Colin and Eloise. He reached over and stole one of Eloise's bonbons.

"I beg your pardon," Colin said as he jolted awake from Benedict's sudden appearance.

"Nothing, and I mean nothing, has inspired me. Idle hands," He waved his hands in the air for extra effort.

"You are out of inspiration and you woke me up to tell me this," Colin tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes but nothing was working as Benedict yapped on and on about art.

"Yes," Benedict shrugged.

"Have you tried going to the museum? I hear there is a new exhibit. It might spark something for you," Eloise just wanted to eat her bonbons in peace.

"That's why you are my favorite, " He ruffled her hair before dashing off to find his coat before heading to the museum.

-

He stood in front of a painting for what felt like hours. It seemed like he was waiting for something to come to him, his inspiration. Footsteps shuffled around him, yet, Benedict remained unmoved.

"I find his work to capture the inquisitive nature of who he paints," A melodic voice came from behind him. He turned a saw a woman around his age with the most beautiful features. Delectable lips, and round cheeks, and her skin looked like it was kissed by the gods themselves. The gorgeous shade of brown, he had ever seen.

"You do? That is a refreshing perspective. My family thinks them all to be faces on a canvas," He probably should have addressed her more formally but for now he was happy to have someone share interests with him.

"They are but they are also so much more. Each brush stroke is an attempt to capture a moment. No matter how imperfect it may be," She looked at him with a small smile playing on her lips. His eyes lingered there a little long before dragging down the rest of her body. She did not have the clothing of a commoner. She must be a lady, he thought to himself.

"Are you a painter?" He asked.

"I am talentless in art, I'm afraid but that doesn't stop me from enjoying it. And what about you?" She shook her head and he noticed the bouncy curls that fell from her scalp. He was becoming more and more entranced by the moment.

"I dabble. I am not great enough for a museum. My siblings believe it to be my hobby," He admitted rather shyly.

"Yet. You are not great enough for a museum, yet. Mister?" She asked for his name.

"Bridgerton. Benedict Bridgerton," Benedict gave her a small smile as he introduced himself. She chuckled slightly.

"It has been wonderful chatting with you, Mr. Bridgerton, but I fear I may have to leave." She looked disappointed that their conversation had come to an end. Benedict looked up at the painting and began to speak.

"What is your name so I may fin-" He looked down and she was gone. She had disappeared into the crowd before he could finish his statement. He pushed to the entrance of the museum but there was nothing.

-

"All of this happened and you did not catch the lady's name?" Colin asked as he and Benedict made their way away from the mothers who all wanted their daughters paired with a Bridgerton.

"She was perfect. I only entertained Mother's idea of me coming to the ball tonight in hopes of seeing her," Benedict said while adjusting his waistcoat and smiling at some of the season's eligible debutantes but none of them were her.

"And if she's not here?" Colin asked, his eyebrows squinted and a bit concerned by the potential answer.

"I will simply cease," He deadpanned.

"Cease what?"

"To exist," Benedict said and watched as more and more people arrived at the ball. Even the Queen was in attendance, but someone far more interesting trailed behind her. 

"Stop hitting me. Mother, he's hitting me," Colin said as Benedict repeatedly tapped his brother's shoulder. Benedict's eyes were wide as they trailed the woman he met in the museum. 

"That's her. That's the woman," Benedict said watching her gracefully walk across the room. She was dressed in the finest silks and her curls that were wild and free earlier were pinned back.

"Well, that cannot be," His mother started. Her son could not have been talking about her. That would have been impossible. 

"What are you talking about? She is right there. Even more beautiful than when I saw her last," He noted her appearance before quickly bowing in the presence of Queen Charlotte. Sure, the family had her favor, but even they knew their place.

"Bridgertons, I do not think I have introduced my daughter. Princess Y/N, she takes after me in beauty of course," The Bridgertons turned and then bowed in front of the Princess who looked mortified.

"It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintances," She spoke softly as her gaze held Benedict's. He understood why she dashed away. The scandal of an unmarried princess wandering the museum alone. Especially, considering how long the two of them spoke together.

"A pleasure indeed," He would see her again. He had to find his muse.

Taglist: @flyestvenustrap@megamindsecretlair@blxckdesire @prettyvintageafternoon@lilbanas@certifiedloverwoman@melissa-ashe @hoyoooo @blckbarbiedoll idk if you guys wanna be here for this because it's a bit diff from my usual content but just let me know!!

[russellsppttemplates]

A red thread tying you to me (Charles Leclerc)

There was something pulling you to him and Charles was ready to act on it

Note: english is not my first language. I loved the blurb and now we have a big piece too!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions the death of reader's father's and Charles' father's deaths

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"The congress is just outside of Milan, the exact city and details are in there", your colleague Lucia offered as she flickered though the pages, "I've been a couple of times before and it's really enriching, I just know you'll love the students and the department head - she was my supervisor for a couple of years".

"It sounds great", you looked at the panel information and then the travel details, "it's such a shame you can't come with me though, but I also wouldn't want to risk your little dude showing up and have me as your midwife", you chuckled as Lucia rubbed her baby bump.

"You're capable of many things, Y/N, but I would prefer if the fate of my baby and my underparts was in the hands of a professional!", she bumped your shoulder, "and the area is really nice too, I'm sure you'll find something to keep you busy during the weekend".

"I have plans, actually, I'll be fine I think", you smiled.

Like Lucia predicted, you had a great time in the conference and the guest lecture you gave was applauded and discussed for nearly an hour after you showed the last slide of the presentation, topics going back and forth until everyone had to absolutely leave the room before the next lecture began. For now, you'd get to enjoy the region, drinking some wine and taking in the views you recognised.

The park where your father used to take you didn't look too different. The slides didn't look rusty anymore, and the swing was a bright red colour as you sat on it once you didn't see any other kid around who might want to use them and let yourself feel the breeze on your face and hair as you kicked your legs in and out. Your father used to make you feel like you could touch the sky with how high he helped you go, "you're going to touch the clouds, mia piccola stella", he would say and you would laugh loudly.

You missed him every single day, but over the years, your grief allowed you remember all of the happy moments you lived with him, cherishing them close to your heart. Spending the whole weekend in Monza and attending the race was something you hadn't done without him since he passed away. The circuit was your father's favourite - "it's the fans, Y/N, there's a thrill in the air that no other circuit has - Tifosi cover the streets, they're all you can see around town and it's magical almost" he would say to you, so when you noticed the conference was in the area and coincided with the Grand Prix weekend, both you and your mother agreed you should take the opportunity.

On your way back to the hotel, you stopped by the track, wondering what the preparations for a race weekend looked like after so many years. You still followed the sport, but you never got the chance to catch this on television.

"Oh my, oh my", you heard someone say beside where you were standing, "I can't believe my eyes, it's Y/N Y/L/N".

Turning around you spotted Salvatore, one of the mechanics your father worked with. He also had kids around your age and you would often play together whenever you were both in the garage for the weekend.

"Salvatore!", you cheered, giving him a big smile after kissing each of his cheeks, "you better believe your eyes then".

"It's been so long since I've seen you last", he recalled, rubbing your back softly. You and your mother had gone to Maranello for a tribute ceremony the team had for your father - that had been the last time he saw you.

"It has been, yes - I'm sorry", you apoligised. You told the team you'd be around and so much had happened since and you only watched it through a screen instead of living it in the flesh.

"It's okay, it was the time you needed - What brought you to Monza this weekend?", he wondered as he walked inside the paddock with you, scanning his card and getting you both in.

"A work trip actually - I finished a conference yesterday and I also gave a lecture at the university", you nodded, "and my father always loved Monza", you smiled at the memory, "he knew how cliché that sounded, but he always said there wasn't a better weekend on the calendar. And I've missed the rush, too", you offered, letting the tears flow freely and accepting them even though you were in the middle of the paddock, loud noises coming from every angle as the teams prepared the finishing touches for the upcoming race.

"He's very proud of you, I'm sure", Salvatore comforted, "and everyone will be happy to see you here - the little girl with the high pigtails is a grown woman now who attends conferences and gives lectures, who would've known?", he joked as you stepped inside the garage.

"Is this little troublemaker Y/N Y/L/N?", one of the oldest mechanics said after he applied a sticker to the halo.

When your father took you to the races, everyone knew they had fun guaranteed with you, always pulling pranks and laughing loudly, "my troublemaker days are over, I'm a responsible woman now", you chuckled, giving a quick wave to everyone before greeting everyone individually.

"Do you have tickets for this weekend?", Fred asked. Even though he had just met you, it was clear to him how much you mattered to everyone who worked with your father, "we can get you a pass, I'm sure".

"I have grandstand tickets", you stated.

"Silvia!", the team principal called the woman, making her approach him and rub your arm kindly, "do we have any guest passes left?".

"Let me check", Silvia mumbled, "we have one left, actually! Charles didn't even notice he asked us to save a ticket for his mother twice - I'll get it for you, it's in the meeting room upstairs", she smiled.

"Charles will also be very happy to see you around, did you tell him you were coming?", Salvatore mentioned.

"I haven't actually - I've been really busy", you mumbled.

You met the monégasque driver when he was Scuderia Ferrari's development driver and Prema Racing driver in Formula Two, accidentally running into him in the dining area of the hospitality and ending up spending most of his free time there throughout the whole weekend.

Quickly, it became a tradition to do so whenever he was over and whenever he was done with his Formula Two duties and you happened to be at the same track.

When you stopped attending races because the memories were too painful, you lost contact, opting to react to eachother's Instagram stories every now and again and sending quick messages through the social media app.

"The boys arrive today, but they're only coming to the track tomorrow", Fred added, "you'll have plenty of time to catch up".

Charles had finally arrived to the hotel after all the flights and drives, thankful that there weren't many fans around already and he could get inside without a hitch, checking in and getting his room keys.

"Hold it, per favore!", he said to the person on the lift, dreaming of the changing from his travel outfit and the bed waiting for him. When his hand helped him inside the metal door, he couldn't believe his eyes, "Y/N?".

He could remember the last time he saw you. He had just started his first season as a Formula One driver for Alfa Romeo and you had come back to the paddock for the first race of the season like you promised you would. He sat with you whenever he had a little break, you caught up with him and his early days as a driver with a seat rather than just watching from the sidelines.

"Charles, hi!", you gasped, hugging him and feeling him squeeze your body against his.

"I- what are you doing here? Are you here for the race?", he wondered. This couldn't be a mere coincidence. He hoped it wasn't.

"I had a work trip here that coincided with this weekend, and I thought of it as a sign", you explained, "you're staying in this hotel too?".

"Yes, the team are at the one where we usually stay for the weekend, but until Thursday, I'm staying here, yes", he smiled, "Goodness, I feel like it's both been forever and like it was yesterday", he chuckled, "do you want to get a drink? I have a nice selection in my room whenever I stay", he offered.

"I'd love to, Charles", you said, hoping that the tingly feeling on your tummy mirrored Charles' own excitement at this unexpected but valued encounter, "are you sure though? You just arrived".

"No, don't worry about that! My room is... 705", he checked on the card he was handed, "so you can join me now or maybe you want to set those things down first and meet me there?", he pointed to the bag you were carrying.

"Yes, this is quite heavy actually", you blushed, "my room is on this floor, so I'll meet in your room in fifteen? I need to freshen up because I've been walking around town all day".

Leaving the elevator on your floor, Charles waved at your before the doors closed andyou headed to your door. Stepping inside, you left the totebag with the books you bought in the chair before heading to the bathroom, brushing out any tangles in your hair and splashing your face with water to freshen up.

After getting yourself ready to go, you went up to Charles' floor, knocking on the door and waiting for him.

"Come in, come in!", Charles offered after he opened the door, "I've unpacked but kept it very organised still", he chuckled as you walked inside the room. It looked the same as yours did, only a different colour pallette for the decoration.

"How have you been?", you wondered once you sat down and shared some sparkling water, neither of you really feeling like drinking anything alcoholic.

"You surely know more about me than I know about you", Charles smiled, "but it's been good, this season has been great so far, I feel like we're in a really good path and things are working well", he took a sip from his cup, "the team have done such an incredible job".

"And the driver on the car doesn't have anything to do with that?", you squinted at his ever so modest take on things.

"I suppose I do", he blushed.

"I may have not been here, but I've watched every race - minus some of the ones at daft o'clock, I only watched those when my sleep was all messed up", you joked, "you're an essential part of this team, Charles, everyone can see that so you should give yourself more credit", you touched his arm.

Even though it had been years since you last saw eachother, you hit it off immediately and it seemed like no time had passed.

"And you? What is this work trip that brought you here?", Charles nodded.

"You're not the only one who gets to travel for work, alright?", you tsked, "I had to do a presentation on a conference and then the department invited me for a lecture, nothing big".

"Who's being ever so modest now, hm? That is fantastic, mon ange!", he congratulated before he noticed the words coming out of his mouth.

"When I noticed it fell around this weekend, I told my mum and she said that I should try and dip my foot here - I've been wanting to come to race sooner but...", you trailed off.

"I get it - it's hard going to the places that remind you of them", Charles took his hand in yours and squeezed it, "he was so cherished by the team, I'm sure everyone will be very happy to see you".

"Actually, I walked to the track today so I could see it up close before the race - I hoped it wouldn't be such a big shock once I got there on Friday -, and I bumped into Salvatore", you smiled, "he let me go into the garage and I saw everyone, it was really nice", you looked up so the tears on your eyes wouldn't fall.

"I can get you a pass, let me just text Silvia!", Charles said as he got his phone from his pocket with his free hand.

"She already did", you chirped, "apparently you booked two for your mother, so they had a spare one".

"You see, a couple of years ago, my mum was too late to tell me she was coming to the race and I was out of the guest passes, so I always have one on hold for her and I sent the list with her name on it as well", he admitted, "but it seems to have turned out just fine - meant to be even".

You ended up requesting room service for the two of you for dinner, neither feeling like going out of the room after feeling so comfortable there. Conversation was steady, vulnerability was easy to show and the butterflies were happily dancing on your tummy.

"I better get to my room, then", you stated once Charles told you about what he needed to do tomorrow once he was at the track.

"I didn't mean it that way - I'm fine!", he said after doing his best attempt at containing a big yawn, "I'm fine!".

"You're tired, and frankly so am I", you admitted as you got up from the bed.

"Would you like to come with me to the track tomorrow? If you don't have other plans that is", he mumbled the last part.

"I don't - I was just going to work a little bit, but if you find me a spot in the hospitality, I'll happily take my stuff there", you smiled reassuringly as you put on your shoes and headed to the door.

"I can take you to your room", Charles got up from the bed and followed you.

"No need, my room is just downstairs", you reasoned, kissing his cheek in a silent thank you still.

"That's right - so we'll go tomorrow after breakfast?", he rested his body on the door once you opened it.

"Yes, that works for me! Good night, Charles", you smiled before walking up to the elevator.

.

Walking inside the hospitalitynwith Salvatore and the rest of the team, he was quick to show you where you could set up.

"Charles likes to spend as much time as possible with the fans and it's right about now that they start becoming more and more and they're everywhere, too", he explained as he helped you in the table on the lounge area, "there's food and coffee in there if you need anything", Salvatore smiled, "if you need anything, just ask someone".

"Thank you - this is perfect", you assured, sitting down and working on your laptop and reading some of the books you had bought.

Charles and Carlos finally arrived at the hospitality, greeting the team and talking to them for a while before they headed upstairs for a meeting.

"You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend and you were bringing her here", Carlos told Charles as he poured some coffee on a mug after the meeting.

"I don't - I haven't brought a girlfriend here", Charles quirked an eyebrow at his team-mate.

"So who is that young woman you just smiled at and are pouring coffee for after giving her the heart eyes?", it was the spanish driver's turn to raise his eyebrows.

"Oh, Y/N!", Charles smiled as he mentioned your name, "she's an old friend! Her father was a mechanic before he passed away a few years ago - the older team members have known her since she was little, everyone loves her", he mused.

"Everyone loves her - I can see that", Carlos chuckled as he followed Charles to the table.

"We don't want to interrupt or disturb you too much", Charles announced as he set the mug next to your laptop.

"It's fine, sit sit!", you encouraged as you closed the books you no longer needed to make room for them, "I'm Y/N", you told Carlos.

"I'm Carlos", he smiled back, "nice to meet you", he said before you dove into conversation, discussing anything that popped into your minds and getting to know eachother.

"Don't let her fool you into believing she has always been a responsible, put together girl because she used to steal and hide all of our tools!", Antonio, one of the engineers pointed at you after he got himself a bottle of water, "Charles knows her tricks already but you, Carlos, don't fall for that!".

"You loved it every time I was on the computers and drew on Paint! You even had one of my drawings as the background for almost an entire season!", you threw at him as he approached you, patting the top of your head protectively.

"I'd like to see that! I've only known her since she was way older", Charles pouted.

"Jealous much?", Carlos teased, his voice above a whisper as Charles seemed to get flustered.

"Is it really that obvious?", the monégasque driver mumbled once you got up to get something to eat, "I've had a crush on her since I was a development driver".

"Why have you never said anything? She seems like she really cares about you too", Carlos mused as he thought to a few moments before where you too gqve him heart eyes. He would have to be blind to not notice it, and even then the energy between you too would still be felt.

"The timing wasn't right, I guess - her father passed away almost right after as I became a driver for Alfa Romeo, and she hasn't been in the paddock since. We have texted every now and again over the years and now she happened to be here for the race too", Charles offered.

"I'd say you should take a shot - trust me, she likes you back", Carlos patted Charles' shoulder after getting up, watching you go back to the table with a big smile on your face.

.

After Charles took pole position in qualifying, the team stayed a bit longer for the debrief, going over a few points of the discussion and the changes they still needed to make before the race.

"Y/N! We're having dinner at one of our favourite restaurants in town and I'm counting you in, okay?", Charles said as he spotted you in the garage, followed by Andrea, who had been keeping you company along with his brothers, Charlotte and Pascale.

"Your family is here for you, Charles, I don't want to intrude", you said as you got up, unaware of the Leclerc matriarch behind you.

"Chérie, of course you won't be intruding - we'd love to have you there!", Pascale chirped in.

"Well, in that case...!", you smiled, "just tell me where I should go and at what time, or are we going straight there?", you wondered.

"I was thinking we could go straight there if that's okay with you - you can can come with me and Andrea can ride with my brothers", Charles suggested, "unless you need to go back to the hotel", he quickly scrambled.

"No, I'm fine! Unless this outfit is not restaurant appropriate", you muttered as you looked down. Against all odds, you managed to not get any food stains on your dress. It was a midi skirt cut, flowy to allow your body to feel cool considering the warm Italian day.

"It's fine - you're fine, you look beautiful!", Charles was quick to assure you.

"Good, that's good then", you smiled before excusing yourself to go and get your things.

"You have to tell her, Charles - your affection is no use to either of you if you keept it in here", Pascale tapped her son's chest.

.

"Y/N", Charles called you before he had to go and get ready for the race, "I have something for you - we do", he said as some of the mechanics, including Salvatore, followed him.

"Oh, what is it?", you smiled.

"We commented with some guys back at the factory that you were here with is this weekend and they found something we thought you'd like to have", Salvatore said as he handed you a bag.

Looking inside, you noticed an old Ferrari cap and some embroidered lettering on the side, recognising it immediately. When you were a teenager, you decided to try different hobbies and hand embroidery was the one that stuck the most, so much so that on one of the race weekends, you embroidered caps for everyone on the team that asked you.

"My wife remembered the one I have at home and then the guys at Maranello found your father's and apparently one you did for Charles' as well", Salvatore offered as you took them both out.

"Dad always said he had plenty of embroidered things at home and this one was the one he had to travel with him", you chuckled as tears welled up in your eyes, feeling Charles soothingly rub your back.

"I remember getting this and loving it - I thought I had lost it!", Charles said, unaware if how close he was pulling you together so he could get a peek at the old caps.

"There's some loose string here", you chuckled, wiping the tears and fiddling with the red thread, "I didn't know how to properly tie it at the start, I kept losing it - I think I even glued it down at some point. Thank you for bringing this out", you smiled.

"Would you mind if I wore this for the driver's parade?", Charles asked you.

"I was planning on wearing my dad's while I watched the race", you offered, testing the fabric and placing it on your head before doing the same with Charles, fixing it on his head and looking up at him.

You never got over how handsome he was. The little scar on his cheek, his mole, the smile that never failed to make you smile, his beautiful green eyes. His kindness, his gentleness, his talent - there wasn't a way to deny how much you liked it. How much you liked him.

"We will be matching then!", Charles squeezed you against him before going to his driver's room.

Only when Charles was headed to take P1 on the grid did he hand the cap back to Salvatore and put on his helmet, giving you a wink before he left.

"How are you feeling?", Pascale asked as she sat next to you to watch the race. Over the last couple of days, she had grown close to you, not only because you had captured her son's heart and she wanted to get to know you, but also because Charles had told her how emotionally charged it was for you to be at the track, in Monza nonetheless.

"It's a lot", you admitted, "everyone has been so kind and warm, so all of the heavy feelings have been slowly infiltrating the good ones and it's been easier to deal with them like that", you blinked away a few tears.

"I get it", Pascale nodded, "losing someone is not easy, and I can't imagine what it feels like for you - the boys and I talk about my late husband every now and again and it gets easier to talk about it, I think that's what it is anyway".

"Yes, definitely like that. My mum and I have reached the point where we don't cry at every mention - despite what you might have noticed this weekend", you chuckled.

"It's emotional, chérie - I, for one, always cry whenever the boys achieve their goals. Hervé isn't here to see them, but I know he knows, and the boys know how proud he is of them", Pascale smiled, keeping some tears at bay too.

"You raised amazing young men, don't doubt that", you let out. At this point, you were sure she had noticed or had at least an inkling. As any mechanic for the red team who knew you since you were a kid would say, you were never a good liar - anytime you said you didn't touch something, they knew to look in your backpack first.

"Thank you, dear", she added, "you know, Charles is quite careful in who he lets in, but he's never been good at hiding how much he cares about someone and I can tell he cares a great deal about you".

"I care a lot about him too", you smiled before you were handed a pair of headphones each with the race about to start.

When Charles successfully kept the cars behind him away with a good gap, you clapped and watched the remaining laps number get smaller and smaller until there was only the current lap left.

Charlotte held your hand together with hers as you watched Charles be the first driver to see the checkered flag and when Xavi yelled "And P1!" into the radio, you did your happy dance, not having a care in the world about what others thought as you watched the Tifosi erupt in cheer.

"He did it! He did it!", Pascale clapped for her son, Arthur hugging her while Lorenzo did the same with his girlfriend while you softly touched your father's embroidered name on your cap with your fingers.

Running up to Parc Fermé, you stood in the sea of red, waiting for him to come back and hug them.

"You did so well, congratulations!", you said as you pulled Charles for a hug.

"Had my good luck charm with me!", he smiled back, kissing your cheek as he took advantage of you being shielded by the mechanics and engineers.

The team celebratory dinner was going really well, everyone happy with how the weekend panned out with both drivers on the podium and enjoying the meal on the restaurant's outside patio.

"If you guys want dessert, they're going to set them out on that table and you can grab as much as you like", Fred spread the message as you could see all kinds of sweet foods being brought out, a pudding catching your eye along with some raspberries.

You and Charles got the dessert plates and served yourselves, noticing the staff was already clearing up the tables, meaning you'd have to move to the bar area, many people opting to skip dessert and get some drinks instead.

"You can see the stars so clearly tonight", you mused as you looked up at the sky, setting your plate on the high table.

"My father always said that the stars did shine brighter here, and tonight the sky is very clear", Charles hummed in agreement, looking at your face. The moonlight and the dim lighting for the lamps and fairy lights illuminated all your features perfectly - your smile as you looked up formed the dimples on your cheeks, your eyes that were a tiny bit squinty and the way your whole body seemed relaxed.

The goosebumps on your arms caught his eye though, "here, have this", Charles said as he offered you the cardigan he had carried around all night since according to him his mother made him do it because it would be cold.

"Thanks", you smiled as you pulled the sleeves and folded them around your wrist so they would fit better, "this is really comfy, I might steal this if you don't ask for it back", you joked.

"I don't mind if you keep it, you have had my heart all these years", Charles stated. There it was.

"What?", you faced him, heart beating fast inside your chest.

"It's true, I've had a crush on you since I first met you, and these past couple of days have been amazing, and I can't believe it took me all these years to realize how I truly feel about you Y/N", he told you, no stutter or sign of regret on his face.

"I haven't been around, really, it's my fault", you fiddled with your thumbs before looking at him again, "but I can't lose you again".

"You never lost me, amour", he smiled as his eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, his hand cupping your cheek your mouth pressed on his, ignoring everything and everyone around you.

Interrupting the kiss for air, Charles giggled as you hid your face in his neck once you heard the cheers and whistles, your lashes tickling him as his arms circled your waist and pulled you closer to him.

"He wins inside the track and outside of it, Charles Leclerc, P1 to Y/N's heart!", Carlos shouted before whistling again.

"Just so you know, I want an invite to your wedding!", Salvatore pointed his finger at you, "I still remember when you invited me for your wedding with Vettel!".

"You and Seb?", Charles chuckled once you pulled away from his neck.

"Sebastian was my favourite when I was little", you giggled, hiding your face on Charles' chest this time, "when he was back in RedBull still, I asked my father to ask him if he could take a photo with me and I cherished that for so many years - it was my most prized possession!".

"I can't promise you Seb, but I can promise you the very best of me", Charles said as he kissed the top of your head.

[wifeyoozi]

hiiii!!!! i adore your works and love reading them!! 🫶🏻 while scrolling through your profile i saw that your requests for ot13 were open! :) so i thought maybe i could request ot13 reaction to a s/o with tattoos? (doesn't have to be a full sleeve for example, just tattoos in general)

or if you're not really feeling it, maybe ot13 reaction to a s/o with physical touch as their love language? 🫣

i hope you're having a nice day / night and keep up the good work!! 💘

ot13 seventeen : when your love language is physical touch

ceecee's note : sorry for late post lol and also I'm doing the second prompt not cuz I'm uncomfy with tattoos in fact I have two myself but I just find the second one really fluffy tho if you want me to do another one with the first prompt too, you can ask again and I would love writing about it too <33

seungcheol : he's really clingy himself, so he loves that you show your love to him by constantly hugging him and cuddling with him. when not in front of camera, the two of your really look like those teddy bears who hug each other and have been stitchd at their hands so they can literally not be separated from each other. like two koalas.

jeonghan : doesn't respond to you clinging on him very actively like seungcheol but everytime you hug him, he'll automatically hug back and when you are just touch starved, he'll come and plop his head on your lap so you can touch him and hug him and cuddle him all you want.

joshua : my gentleman. not the one to usually start physical contactbut really loves when you do and responds with almost the same energy. loves having you in his arms and keeping you warm all the time.

junhui : secretly very cuddly. doesn't show it a lot at the start of your relationship. now he'll pout every second you are not physically in contact with him and is just as much of a cuddle bear as you are.

soonyoung : he also naturally has physical-touch as his love language. he is more often clinging on you that you on him and literally loves when you two are hugging so close there is not even space for vacuum between you two, cheeks squishing against each other.

wonwoo : physical affection isnt his love language but he loves being the recipient of it. there are very less people he is as comfortable to be so close and touchy with and you are one of them. he really loves having you cling onto him like you are a koala and he is your tree branch

woozi : he rarely responds to you cuddling to him always, but that doesn't mean he doesn't love it. he really loves it. he actually feels so loved and appreciated the way you are always holding on him. on rare occasions like when he is tired or just full of love for you, he'll initiate physical touch by hugging you close and clinging to you instead.

minghao : doesn't show on surface to others how much he loves having you constantly bother him with hugs and cuddles and touches but you do know that he really enjoys that just by how he looks at you and smiles at you and always has a loose yet firm hand resting on your hips or back everytime you are by his side.

mingyu : this big baby literally feels so happy every time you cling to him. though physical touch isn't his primary love lang, its definitely one of them. literally greets you with bone-crushing hugs everytime and is peppering you with kisses whenever you cuddle beside him.

seokmin : he loves whenever you are constantly touching him. loves seeing you smile when you hug him and breath full of his scent. hugs you every chance he gets because he knows how much you like it. would never push you off him or even tell you so whenever you are hugging or cuddling him, even if he gets slightly uncomfortable or his arm dies under the weight of your head.

seungkwan : all he really needs after the long day of work is being hugged full by you. it just so helps that you love doing so. literally relaxes under your touch every time, just increasing you urge to keep him close all the time. if you let go of him even momentarily, he'll get so sulky.

vernon : he isn't one to start physical touch by himself either, but is always really comfortable when you do so. doesn't even realsie when he wraps his arms around you and rests his head on top of yours while cuddling. just loves you being in his space when he loves you.

chan : he's the kind who keeps changing his love language to match his partner's. your love language is physical touch? well now so is his! literally matches your energy in cuddliness and touchiness all the time. will hold you close and tight all the time and kiss you all the time because he knows how much you love it.

[siscon-stsg]

could you write a scenario about gojo fucking his sweet little virgin and innocent sister. When he looked so long her cunt, she blushed and said;

Nii-chan, p-please don't look at it

I love your writings <3

(CW: incest, innocent and virgin reader, my bad writing and not beta'd, satoruniichan being manipulative cuz yeah that's him. name-calling. oral (f receiving). corruption. degradation if you squint i guess? finger-sucking. cliff hanger cuz i'm evil)

THANK YOU PRETTY BABY YOU'RE THE BESTTT!!! i'm kissing you on the mouth mmmmmmwah c'mere. i suck at writing full pieces, haven't done it in literal AGES, but i did my best for you!! so sorry if it sucks!! my brain hurts i am not used to thinking for long periods of time. /j

satoru's eyes were impossible to escape from. he'd always make you feel naked under his gaze, like two stars sucking the light out of the night sky.

but now they gazed down at you with such hunger it was almost threatening.

“hmmm,” he hummed with a grin, long fingers tracing aimless patterns all over your wet cunny; “don' close y'r legs, pretty. don' ya wanna make your big bro happy?”

and that only made you whimper more. what was so entertaining about this? you struggled not to close your thighs around his pretty head of white hair. “niichan! don't look!”

your parents could be home any minute! what would they say if they saw you like that? knees to your chest on the living room couch, satoru inspecting you down there like he was eyeing a ring at a jewelry store!

he played with your puffy lips, rubbing them up an down. he pulled down the hood around your clit, he stretched your entrance to the sides with both thumbs; only to laugh at the sticky trails of pussy juice drooling down from it.

“why not?” satoru had to laugh at you. some nerve you had to complain, really, when your little pussy was drenched and pulsing, so far untouched. he spat on you, spreading it around your pink flesh with a thumb, and smirked when it got you all squirmy.

“c'mon, be good 'n stay still”. a firm, steadying hand pressed down on your tummy. “y're more than old 'nough to still be a virgin, y'know? i'd be embarrassed if i were you”.

was that true? was not having sex at your age that bad?

satoruniichan always had so many friends, did so much better in school than you, was always dating one girl or another... he'd know about that sort of thing, right?

after all, you were always picked on for being the prune little sister. your parents never approved of any boy you had a crush on, and being a good daughter you never went against their wishes.

satoru caught on your dilemma quick. he leaned in close, blowing his hot, tickly breath teasingly over your clit. “wan' big bro to change that?”

“change w-what? hm!” you moaned. this time you couldn't stop your thighs from closing when satoru's lips sucked on your clitty, slurping loudly until you cried out.

“pop y'r cherry, dummy,” your big bro chuckled. “that way, y' won' be so pathetic anymore”.

the name stung, “pathetic”. tho you could barely think about that with satoru loudly licking, slurping, kissing, burying his face into your pussy. nose into your clit, and purring. arms hugging your hips so you can't escape his hungry stimulation.

you couldn't even think, only moan and shiver. were big brothers even supposed to do this sort of thing to their little sisters? but then again, it felt so good!

satoru pulled back with your clitty slurped between your lips, giddy for the cute cries you let out. “'nd?” he said, voice much deeper and husky than before.

“c'monnn, say yes!” his cheeks puffed up and satoru pouted, like a spoiled child begging for candy. only that this “child” was rubbing your clit in tight frenzied circles with his thumb, not slowing down even as you trashed and squirmed and whimpered. satoru dove tongue first into your soppy hole, muffling his words in your sloshy muscles: “d'y' wanth t' be p'thethic 'll y'r lwife 'r noth?”

“n-niichan!” is all you could say, or cry. your muscles were stiffing up, specially down your belly. satoru seemed impatient, because his tongue swiftly exchanged placed with two long, too long fingers that crooked inside your virgin pussy. he felt around, until finding your gummy, sensitive little walls.

he thrusted and thrusted from his wrist at a sadistic pace, laughing at you and at your slutty teary face. you were going to be such a whore, he just knew. “wanna cum, huh? my pretty sluts wan's to cum?”

“y-yeees!”

your clit felt on fire under his slimy tongue. your walls were spasming, pussy crying as much as your eyes and it was like your body was made of jelly. you shivered and cried, and when your back arched, hips bucking against his hand, your eyes saw heaven and stars twinkled behind your eyelids and

satoru stopped.

“noooo! no! why'd you sto- mmph!” his slick fingers stopped your whining by thrusting down your throat. you almost gagged, throat and pussy convulsing in synch.

the albino sat back on his heels without pulling back from your mouth; one hand fumbling with his sweatpants until it came out springing. angry red, leaky, pulsing, and he rubbed the tip of his dick a couple times against your slit with a deep grunt.

“didn't give ya permission t' cum, did i? now open up f'my cock, slut”

[churipu]

Hellooo! I saw ur reqs wer open and I wanted to know if its oknif ok if u can write abt the jjk men being their for their gf's performance/exhibit for school or work when their family or friends can't make it?

(I love how how the way you write them as well! I found u through the nanami oneshot and I've just been on ur masterlist reading through all of ur fics and drabbles, esp now with me going through the same thing as above 💛)

𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐓 .ᐟ

❪ jjk men showing up in your art exhibition when nobody did ❫

────── 𝕴 . featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, itadori yuuji x fem! reader

────── 𝕴 . warnings. none :)

note. hi nonnie :( thank you so much for the love, i'm so sorry for the delay, i'm so sorry that happened to you. i'm 100% sure whatever you were presenting to everyone was awesome! i love you <33

𝜗𝜚 . GOJO SATORU

gojo has received your heads up regarding an art exhibit a week prior. he'd notice the way you've been very very excited about having your art work presented for people to see. and he's happy to see you happy.

he made it extra clear he wanted nothing with the jujutsu world the day your exhibit was held — all he wanted was a nice and peaceful day to spend with his partner. gojo woke up extra early to send you off, helping you get ready.

the way your smile lit up his morning, he couldn't even get back to sleep right after, seeing how happy you are with today. gojo can't even wait for the time to struck twelve for the exhibition opening, and so he got there an hour early.

he was silent with his movements, a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his grasp as he paced around the crowded area — blue eyes averting everywhere to look for you. with his height, finding you wasn't too hard for him.

pushing through oceans of humans, he stood right in front of you. the solemn look on your face doesn't go unnoticed, "hi, baby."

you look up to see him and crack a smile, "you came."

gojo grins down at you, "of course i did, can't miss my girl's exhibition, can i?" his large hand covered the top of your head, "why the frown? are you not happy to see me?"

chuckling, you shake your head, "no. my parents couldn't make it, they were too busy with work."

and you were so excited to show them your art work too. gojo didn't forget the way you rambled on about how your parents were going to love it — especially when it was dedicated to them. and they butchered it up by choosing work over you.

this time, gojo frowns along with you, "they didn't show up?"

with a shake of your head, gojo pulls you into his embrace, "i'm sorry that happened, show me everything? i arrived here an hour ago to see you, you know?"

"one hour? so early and for what?"

"to see you, silly. i couldn't wait to see all your works," he pressed his lips onto your forehead, "and this is for my beautiful girl."

he handed you the bouquet and laced his fingers with yours, "let's get some food after this? it's a date."

"it's a date!" you smiled, no longer feeling upset.

𝜗𝜚 . NANAMI KENTO

people always tell you to never get excited over small things, but you couldn't help it — the slightest things made you really happy, but at the same time, the slightest things made you sad as well.

i'm sorry, can't come to the exhibit. something came up, i'll try to swing by next time y/n! maybe next year? sorry :(

you read the text over and over again. this should be fine, (friend) was probably just busy with their day so they couldn't drop by — no matter how hard you try to convince yourself that it was fine. you didn't feel like it. they promised.

"i'm sorry i'm late, y/n."

turning around to look at the source of the voice, there stood your boyfriend. sweat dribbling down the side of his face, hair disheveled with shallow and rapid breaths. he looked like he just ran a marathon.

"kento? i thought you couldn't make it—"

nanami shook his head, "i made time for you, i will always make time for you," he gave you a small smile.

"you're not late, just in time actually," you switched your phone off, shoving it inside the back pocket of your jeans, "thank you for coming for me."

he wiped his sweat, standing up straight, stepping towards you, "where are your friends? they should be here now, are they not?"

the corner of your lips tugged downwards. it was embarrassing as it is, and now you had to tell him that they weren't coming. it's like a slap to the face, "um . . . they aren't coming. something came up, and i guess they couldn't come."

nanami's eyebrows twitched slightly, but he said nothing. his hand reached out for yours, giving it a slight squeeze, "spend the rest of your day with me?"

you blinked, "how about work?"

"don't worry about my work, you come first, understood?" he brushed his fingers through your hair, pulling you in for a brief kiss.

𝜗𝜚 . ITADORI YUUJI

maybe the fact that your parents were workaholics made you a better person. maybe the fact that your parents were workaholics pushed you to do better — like a cry for attention. but for some apparent reason, they never seemed to be satisfied with what you're doing.

"art brings you no good, what are you going to be? an artist? do you know how much they earn a year?"

don't be an artist this. don't be an artist that. it was pretty expected that your invitation for them was discarded with no thoughts behind. hell, they didn't even spare it a glance.

and yet, the little girl in you still hoped that they'd show up — even just for a while.

they didn't, it should be obvious. you saw it coming, but it still hurts anyways. however, itadori yuuji showed up; and he was like a ball of sunshine, so you couldn't help but to be happy as well. especially with how packed his schedule is, he still made the time to stop by.

"baby!"

"yuuji!"

he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into a tight hug, carrying you around with ease, "sorry i came a little late, kugisaki needed me to bring her shopping bags back to the cab. where are your parents? they should be here, right?"

right. they should have.

"no, they didn't come," you murmured into the crook of his neck before pulling your head back with a sad smile plastered to your face, "but i'm okay, you're here now!"

yuuji puckered his lips out slightly, "i'm going to pester gojo-sensei to let me off for the rest of the day, i need to be here with you."

you shake your head, "you can't, what if you have a mission?"

"fushiguro can take over, pretty. don't worry about my missions," yuuji replied, nuzzling his nose to the side of your face, "plus, how can i leave you alone here, huh?"

"you're the sweetest, yuuji. but what if it's an important mission?" you pinched his cheeks gently, pulling them.

"fushiguro can take over, he's strong. and there's kugisaki, and the second year students. they'll manage," he retorted, pecking your cheek before letting you down.

"you're too nice, yuuji."

"i love you. and show me your works, i can't wait to see them, you know? kugisaki wanted pictures!"

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