#Like as someone who only buys a new phone
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ᡣ𐭩 Title: Mutual Understanding
ᡣ𐭩 Paring: Rich! Playboy! Taehyung x Fortune teller daughter! Reader
ᡣ𐭩 Summary: She wants nothing to do with love and he hates relationships. Perfect.
ᡣ𐭩 Rating: Explicit (18+)
ᡣ𐭩 Genre: Romance, angst, smut, slow burn, fake relationship au, and cat and mouse vibes
ᡣ𐭩 Part of the The Legendary Seven
ᡣ𐭩 Playlist - Cat & Mouse by Black Swan and Selfish by YooA
ᡣ𐭩 Authors note: I’m proud of this story and honestly my best writing so far me thinks 🥺
May 22 - I edited and added a scene that I felt like it was needed!
“One of the legendary sevens is off the market. Jeon Jungkook, the heartthrob, is going out with one of the students who was accepted through the Kim Scholarship. I heard she’s a fangirl for a gamer streamer so it will be interesting to see how their relationship goes. It’s of course noted that Jungkook’s father tried buying her house. I guess that's another way to keep your house. Until then, Pen.”
“Your mom was right.”
Y/N rolled her eyes and rolled over in Seungkwan’s bed, “Don’t say that.”
“Y/N, she literally got every detail right. I have to give her credit.” Seungkwan tried to show his phone but she kept avoiding it, “Come on, Y/N. Can’t you just listen to your mom?”
“Seungkwan, can you just show me that new game and forget about this?”
“Remember what your mom said? You will find love in the next two months.”
Y/N let out a scoff and sat up in his bed, “That’s like me saying Kim Taehyung will be faithful. It will never happen.”
Seungkwan pouted at his best friend and shook his head, “Let me dream for you.”
“Keep dreaming.”
L/N Y/N, is one of the top students in her major (Radiologic Technology) and her best friend Boo Seungkwan is the top student of his major (Marketing) and was on the gossip site for their school. Seoul University is filled with rich people that lacked basic human kindness which is why everyone loved this website. The person behind it has never said their name but whoever it is, knows more than everyone.
After Seungkwan’s badminton competition, Y/N went over to his house like she always did. Being friends since high school, they basically knew everything about each other. Like how Y/N’s dad left after a night out with his coworkers, she was only six. The one thing that Seungkwan was always curious about was her mother’s “power”. Her mother was a famous fortune teller who gets paid well by CEO’s and she's been doing this for years. Y/N didn’t believe anything her mother said but Seungkwan on the other hand believed every word.
Y/N stood up from his bed and headed to the bathroom to brush her hair. Seungkwan followed her as he scrolled down his phone, “This says that Namjoon has a secret admirer.”
She raised her eyebrow through the mirror and let out a small chuckle. “Are you surprised? Everyone has a crush on that group.”
“Not you.”
“I have a brain, that's why.”
Seungkwan’s phone chimed and he smiled at the screen, “Vernon’s here.”
“Is Seokmin here too?”
“No? Why do you want him here?”
She put her brush down and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “Yes, it sucks feeling like a third wheel.”
Seungkwan’s face turned red and pointed at her, “YO-YOU SHUT UP!”
Y/N let out a laugh and shrugged her shoulders, “It’s true. Let’s go downstairs to your boyfriend.”
“YAH! YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE A BOYFRIEND!”
“NO, I’M NOT!”
“YOUR MOM SAID-”
“DON’T BRING HER-”
“BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!”
Seungkwan and Y/N glanced at the door with a nervous look. Seungkwan’s sister isn’t someone to mess with, “So-Sorry.”
Vernon came in and they were hanging out in Seungkwan’s room. They weren’t really talking but their company made it better. It wasn’t until Seungkwan shot up from his spot making Y/N jump, “What the hell?”
“Taehyung dumped Jennie.”
Y/N scoffed at this and rolled her eyes, “They weren’t together. Just fucking.”
“So, it doesn’t matter. They're done now because Jennie just posted a picture with her ex.”
Vernon sighed and glanced at Seungkwan’s phone, “We shouldn’t care about other people's lives.”
“Especially Taehyung’s, he’s just a piece of shit that breaks poor girls' hearts.”
Kim Taehyung let out a puff of smoke as he glanced at Jungkook who was texting on his phone. He glared at this and gently nudged him to get his attention, “Dude, you said you wanted to hang out but you're talking to your girl.”
Jungkook glanced up at Taehyung and rubbed the back of his neck, “Sorry.” He put his phone back in his pocket and gave his friend a concerned look, “I wanted to hang out because I saw Jennie’s post.”
Taehyung hit his cigarette ash in his diamond ashtray and shrugged his shoulders, “What about it?”
“I know you guys were seeing each other-”
“Her pussy was good.”
Jungkook rolled his eyes and shook his head, “You literally saw her for four months straight and wouldn’t call your other girls. That means you liked her.”
“Why would I like her? I’m Kim Taehyung, I don’t fall in love with basic girls.”
“Sometimes I wish a girl would slap you for your attitude.”
Taehyung shrugged his shoulders and leaned back against his leather couch, “Would love to see it happen.”
Jungkook’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he took his phone out, “I have to go.”
“Go to your girlfriend you simp.”
“At least someone likes me for me and not just for my money.”
Taehyung scoffed at this and continued to smoke with annoyance, “How can you stick to one pussy?”
Jungkook let out a laugh and stood up from the couch, “When you find the right person, nothing else matters.”
“Whatever dude.”
Jungkook went to leave and bowed to Taehyung's mother who was coming into the living room, “Ah, Kook, you're going home already?”
Jungkook bowed and gave her a sheepish smile, “My girlfriend needs me.”
Taehyung’s mother sighed and placed a hand on her cheek as she glanced at her son with a frown, “I wish my son had a girlfriend. I need to tell him the good news.”
“The good news?”
Taehyung’s mother nodded her head happily, “I went to see a fortune teller today, she told me that Taehyung will fall in love in two months.”
Jungkook glanced at Taehyung and then back at his mother, “Taehyung? Your son will fall in love with someone?”
“Isn’t that exciting!? My son falling in love, what more can I want?”
“Taehyung...falling in love. I have to go, it was nice seeing you, Mrs. Kim.”
“Bye Kook, be safe.”
Taehyung’s mom smiled at her son and walked towards him with her heels clicking away. Taehyung quickly put his cigarette out and sat up straighter, “Mom?”
“My Tae, I have good news.”
Taehyung raised his eyebrow at his mother, “This can’t be good, what’s the news.”
“A fortune teller told me that you would fall in love with someone in two months. Isn’t that good news?”
“You believe in that? Mom really?”
His mom nodded her head and glanced through the living room windows, “With a son like you, I have to believe in that.”
“What is that supposed to mean!?”
“You know what it means.”
“Mom, just let me live my life the way I want.”
His mom sighed and stood up with a little smirk on her lips, “Well hurry up because in six weeks grandma is coming over and I told her you had a girlfriend.”
“You did what? Mom, you know I don’t have a girlfriend.”
She shrugged her shoulders and nodded her head, “Figure it out. Also, no more smoking, or I will have your father do something about it.”
He swallowed his spit nervously, “Please don’t.”
“Good, let’s go have dinner.”
He watched her leave and fell back into the couch and stared at the ceiling, “What the fuck am I going to do?”
Kim Taehyung, is the second richest student at Seoul University. Everyone knows who he is. He had loving parents and siblings who were perfect. Being part of the legendary seven, it was a blessing and a curse. Everyone knows your business, even those who you don’t want to know. Taehyung hates relationships because what’s the point of being in one when you're in college? You're supposed to have fun and go to school. Why put love on top of the stress of school? Love is just complicated and a headache for him. It will always be like that. Always.
.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡
Seungkwan and Y/N walked down the hallway talking to one another about random things. It wasn’t until she heard someone running towards her. She turned around to see her other friend running towards her with a wide smile, Hwang Eunbi, “Y/N! I have something to tell you!”
She smiled at the girl and grabbed her hand with ease, “What is it?”
“I got a note from Kevin and he told me that Yunho has a crush on you!”
Y/N rolled her eyes and dropped her hand, “Not this again. Stop trying to set me up with people.”
Eunbi frowned and glanced at Seungkwan, “Did you tell her?”
“Tell me what?”
Seungkwan let out a nervous laugh and turned towards Y/N, “You see...My aunt is having a party next week and I kinda told her...I told her that you had a boyfriend because she kept asking about you and I lied because she wouldn’t leave me alone. I’m sorry and I know you hate relationships but I panicked and she was talking bad about you-”
“Seungkwan, relax.”
Seungkwan raised his eyebrow and glanced at Eunbi, “You're not mad?”
“I know your aunt so I know how you act around her.”
“I’m sorry...I just hate how she talks about you. It’s not fair.”
Y/N shrugged her shoulders and put her hands in her pockets, “Like I give a shit what she says. She’s already on her fourth husband so maybe she should take her own love advice.”
Eunbi laughed at this and wrapped her arm around her neck, “But you should ask Yunho to be your fake boyfriend to show his aunt up.”
“Why would I care? Also, I wouldn’t do that to Yunho because if he has feelings for me then asking him to be my fake boyfriend would be morally wrong.”
Seungkwan smirked at her, “To wipe off that look she always has. You can ask someone else then.”
“That’s tempting but I don’t really care what she thinks about me. Let’s go to lunch before we have to run to class.”
Seungkwan and Eunbi watched her leave with frowns on their faces. Eunbi turned towards Seungkwan, “What are we going to do?”
“I don’t want my aunt to harass her at the party.”
Eunbi's eyes became brighter with an idea that was going to change everything and grabbed Seungkwan’s arm, “I have an idea.”
“Is Y/N going to kill us?”
“Maybe but your aunt will be defeated.”
“Let’s do it.”
Y/N walked into the lunch court with her hands in her pocket. There was a group of girls that had a crush on her because of how cool she was. Y/N’s personality was very laid back and unlike her best friends, she didn’t care about anyone’s opinions. When she got made fun of her mom, she told people to fuck off. She didn’t see a point in fighting with people who only listen to rumors.
She got her usual sandwich and looked at the usual table they always sat at. She dropped her backpack and Seungkwan jumped at the sound, “Why do you always do that?”
“Because it scares you.”
“Y/NNNN!”
“Seokmin, you can use your normal voice.”
She felt an arm around her shoulders and that laugh she came to know, “Where’s the fun in that?” Seokmin removed his arm and sat next to Y/N, “What’s new?”
Eunbi leaned forward with a little smirk, “Do you want the tea about everything you missed?”
“You know me so well.”
Seungkwan pulled out his phone as Y/N ate her sandwich ignoring the whole gossip talk. Seungkwan handed his phone to him with excitement, “Apparently, Taehyung is looking for a girlfriend.”
“Kim Taehyung?”
Eunbi took a sip of her banana milk and nodded her head, “I know right!? Out of everyone, he is the last person I would think would want a relationship.”
“Especially since he was in love with Jennie.”
Seokmin nodded his head and glanced at Y/N, “What do you think, Y/N.”
She placed her sandwich down and shrugged her shoulders, “Why should I care?”
Seungkwan frowned and took the phone from Seokmin, “You're no fun.”
“It’s not my life and I don’t really care for him so what’s the point?”
Eunbi laughed at this and slammed her drink dramatically, “Talking shit about someone is the fundamental of being a college student. It is our duty to fulfill it.”
“I thought our duty was getting good grades.”
“That’s second.”
Y/N raised her eyebrow and nodded her head, “Sure, Seokmin are you free next week?”
“I have a track meeting and then I have a meeting with a CEO my dad set up.”
Y/N frowned at this and nodded her head, “Boring. I’m going to be at this party all by myself.”
Seungkwan pouted at this and looked at Y/N, “I’m going to be there too.”
“Trying to show off to your aunt which means I’m going to be left alone.”
“I don’t show off...”
“You do.”
“You didn’t have to answer all at the same time.”
Taehyung sat down with annoyance and Jimin raised his eyebrow at this, “What’s wrong?”
“My mom.”
Hoseok raised his eyebrow at this and chuckled, “Your mom is an angel.”
“She can be but she can be a devil.”
Namjoon rolled his eyes and took a bite of his food, “What did she do?”
“A fortune-teller told her that I would fall in love in two months, so she told my grandma I have a girlfriend.”
Seokjin let out a laugh and covered his mouth, “That’s unfortunate for you.”
“Shut up, at least I have a choice in my wife.”
“Someone is on their period.”
Taehyung sighed and started playing with his rice, “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to see my grandma sad when she sees me with no girlfriend.”
“You can always have a fake girlfriend.”
Taehyung glanced at Yoongi and thought about it, “I didn’t think of that...”
Jungkook let out a laugh and leaned to his side kissing Bora on her cheek, “Watching you struggle is funny.”
Bora hit his thigh and shook her head at her boyfriend. She glanced at Taehyung with a small smile, “There’s dating apps. You can always use that and put in a bio you need a fake girlfriend.”
“I guess I can do that.”
Jimin nodded his head and clapped his hands, “See it’s that easy. Bora, did you see you were an article by Pen.”
Bora frowned at this and nodded her head, “I saw this and I made the decision to ignore it. It’s upsetting to know that people know the insides of my relationship and to make me look like a charity case but I know the truth.”
Jungkook nodded his head and placed his hand on her thigh, “It’s just meaningless gossip.”
“But gossip is so fun.”
Y/N walked down the hall with Eunbi getting ready for their next class. As they walked down the hall, Taehyung and Jimin were going the opposite way. Taehyung walked past Y/N and he glanced down at her. He raised his eyebrow when she didn’t even give him a second glance. He stood still while Jimin stood there in confusion, “What?”
He stared at Y/N not knowing anything about her, “Nothing...nothing.”
.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･
Eunbi and Seungkwan sat in Y/N’s bedroom as they set up a dating profile for their friend. Y/N went to go pick up food and they thought this was the perfect time to make it. Eunbi snatched the phone out of Seungkwan’s hand and shook her head, “God, that’s not a good picture of her. Use the one when we went to your friend's party. She had that purple dress.”
“This isn’t real Eunbi. We’re just doing this so she can have a fake boyfriend.”
“You can at least treat it like it’s real. There’s better pictures of her and you should use them. She needs someone hot.”
Seungkwan raised his eyebrow at this and shook his head, “Is this for her or for you?”
“Both.”
Y/N entered her house, throwing the keys in the bowl. Y/N didn’t live with her mother and she thanked god for that. She couldn’t hear her mother going on and on about her future. It was annoying. She took her shoes off and went towards her cat, Socks. She walked towards her bedroom and opened the door, “I got the sandwiches.” She jumped when she heard a loud bang and raised her eyebrow when she saw Eunbi’s phone on the floor, “What the hell?”
“We were looking at Pen’s new post and you scared us.”
She nodded her head and shrugged her shoulders, “That’s what you get for being involved in other people’s lives.”
Seungkwan glanced at Eunbi and let out a nervous laugh, “Yeah...”
Eunbi grabbed her phone and smiled when saw the profile get uploaded, “Everything always turns out good.”
Taehyung was in his bedroom on his phone. He was scrolling through Instagram and he stopped on Seungkwan’s post. He’s met him once or twice but he was pretty cool. He zoomed in on the picture and saw the girl he saw in the hallway. He thought her name was Y/N but he wasn’t sure. There were no tags on the picture. He clicked on Seungkwan’s icon and saw multiple posts with her and he finally found one that had tags with her username. He clicked on her profile and was looking through her pictures.
“What are you looking at?”
He jumped and looked to see Jimin with his arms crossed, “Nothing.”
“Really? I saw that smile you have when you see someone hot. Show me.”
“Get lost shorty.”
The next day, Y/N was by herself in the library studying for an upcoming test. It wasn’t until she heard one of the chair moves. She looked up from her book and raised her eyebrow when saw Jimin sitting there with a smile on his face. She took off her headphones and tilted her head, “Can I help you?”
“Are you Y/N?”
“Why?”
Jimin shrugged his shoulders and leaned forward making her pull back, “He usually doesn’t like...I’m Jimin.”
She nodded her head and put her headphones back in, “That’s cool. Are you studying or just bothering me?”
He let out a small chuckle and nodded his head, “Can you do something for me?”
“Oh god...what?”
“It’s for a friend.”
Taehyung entered the library with a confused look. Jimin doesn’t go to the library, why does he want to meet in the library? It was weird. He continued his way through the silence but froze when he saw who Jimin was talking to, “That little fucker...” Taehyung made his way towards Jimin with haste. He knew Jimin wouldn’t leave this alone after last night, he never listened to him.
“You like Y/N? Seungkwan’s friend?
Taehyung rolled his eyes and stood up from his bed with annoyance. He tried snatching his phone back but somehow Jimin was faster than him, “I don’t like her. I just saw her in the hallway and thought she was cute.”
“Interesting.”
“You want me to be Taehyung’s fake girlfriend?”
Taehyung stopped in his tracks and his mouth dropped, “Jimin, what the hell are you doing?”
Jimin looked over his shoulders and gave his friend a smirk, “Helping out your situation.”
Taehyung glanced at Y/N who was looking at them with an annoyed look, “I’m not saying yes but I want to hear the reasoning.”
She was looking straight at Taehyung and he felt nervous under her stare, “I saw you on Instagram...I just thought you were cute and Jimin took that into his own hands.”
She nodded her head and picked up her stuff, “I kinda figured. The answer is no and leave me alone.”
Taehyung watched her leave and his mouth was wide, “Did she just reject me?”
“Technically she rejected me.”
“Jimin, shut up. She just rejected me, what the hell?”
Jimin let out a laugh and leaned back in his chair, “Not everyone has to like you.”
Y/N walked down the stairs but was stopped when she felt a tap on her shoulders. She turned around to see a panting Taehyung and she raised her eyebrow at this, “Dude, what?”
“Please be my fake girlfriend.”
“Huh? I just said-”
“I know you said no but I-I just need someone. Please.”
She leaned against the railing and a small smirk appeared, “What do I get?”
“What do you want?”
“You don’t have an offer?”
Taehyung let out an irritated sigh and looked down at his shoes for a second. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. He looked back up and shrugged his shoulders, “Just tell me what you want?”
“I need you to be my fake boyfriend for this party and I would also like tickets to Japan for a vacation. I deserve it after being with you.”
“You want a vacation? Do you think being my fake girlfriend would be that-”
“Yes, because it's you.”
Taehyung tilted his head and crossed his arms over his chest, “What do you mean by that?”
“You sleep with everyone and break girls' hearts. Do I need to draw a picture for you?”
“You're very blunt.”
“It’s obvious you only have yes men. If you don’t want to give me that ticket to Japan and a nice hotel, bye I have to go study and stop following myself.”
Taehyung rolled his eyes and nodded his head, “Fine, I’ll give you a trip. How many tickets?”
“Three.”
“Fine but starting now you're my girlfriend.”
She cringed at the word and scoffed at this, “Don’t ever call me your girlfriend. Fake or not, I don’t want to associate that with me.”
“Being someone’s girlfriend? Relationships are fun.”
“How do you know that? Anyways, bye.”
She started walking away and Taehyung grabbed her wrist, “Do we have a deal?”
“We have a deal. Now let me go.”
He let her go and put his hands in his pockets nervously, “Sorry. Can we meet up Friday at Supernova’s?”
“Sure.”
He watched her leave and knew he wanted to prove something to her. He was going to prove that he could be a great boyfriend and prove her wrong about relationships. He wanted to change her view of him and he wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much that she saw him like that. It made him feel uneasy. He barely knew her. Why should he care?
Y/N took a sip of her water and stared at Taehyung who was nervously playing with his fries. It’s been quiet for five minutes and she wasn’t going to be the first person to say anything but this was getting ridiculous. She took out her phone and went to send a text to Seungkwan but stopped when Taehyung let out a small cough, “So...girlfriend.”
“My name is Y/N, use it.”
He nodded his head, “Sorry, Y/N. We have to act like a couple in front of people so stop looking at me like I’m the devil.”
“It’s really hard to ignore the horns.”
He let out a chuckle and shook his head, “Can we be friends at least? It would make it easier.”
Last week, Y/N found herself in Seungkwan’s bedroom listening to him talking about the person in front of her. She heard everything from her best friend’s mouth. Rumors are rumors and she knew this. This was her philosophy and it would be hypocritical of her to listen to the rumors. She had no idea how to deal with the playboy but she was willing to take a chance, “Friends...Sure.”
She watched a boxy smile appear on his face and she noted how bright his eyes looked. There was a touch of mystery behind those brown irises. It was interesting to see how bright they can be. She took a sip of her water and took her phone out, “I have to go, Eunbi needs my help.”
He watched her lick her lips and his eyes couldn’t leave them. The feeling that was erupting was something he never felt. It was annoying. He shook his head and nodded his head, “Since we're friends, can I have your number?”
“I suppose since we're friends. Don’t give it out to anyone.”
Don’t worry about that. I wouldn’t want anyone else having it, “I won’t. Trust me.”
She showed her phone to him and he glanced at the numbers. His eyes slowly went towards her face and he noted how the sun highlighted her face. It showcased her eye color perfectly while showing off her lips. He let out a small cough and sent her a quick message. She smiled at this and put her phone away, “Since we're friends, you should come to Seungkwan’s game tomorrow.”
“To-Tomorrow?”
She nodded her head and slid out of the booth, “Since we have to fake being together, it would make sense for you to be with me there. He is my best friend. Remember?”
“Yes, best friend. Do you want me to pick you up?”
She stood by the table and nodded her head, “Nothing too fancy. We don’t want girls flocking to you. I’ll see you tomorrow, Taehyung.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”
He watched her leave the cafe and he continued to do so through the glass. He watched the plaid shirt around her waist sway with each step she took. He never noticed how good her legs looked in jeans. There was also something about the way she walked, it was filled with confidence. He cracked his neck and look down at his fries, What the fuck?
“Eunbi, what’s wrong?”
Y/N opened her bedroom to see Eunbi sitting there with a smile, “I have good news.”
“I also have news but you go first.”
Eunbi sat up with her phone in her hands. She turned the phone to show her a picture of Taehyung causing Y/N to raise her eyebrow, “What?”
“He swiped for you. He’s interested in you.”
Y/N let out a laugh and took the phone out of her hand, “You signed me up for a dating app?”
“It worked! What's your good news?”
“Taehyung is my fake boyfriend.”
Eunbi stared at her with pure shock and her mouth dropped, “Kim Taehyung? The famous-”
“Yes, he needed a fake girlfriend so it worked out.”
“Your mom was-”
“Don’t finish that sentence.”
Y/N waited outside her building and she was scrolling on her phone. Taehyung said he would be coming in ten minutes and knowing he was rich (his car would be fast). She hated making people wait. She heard the gates open and she looked up to be pleasantly surprised to see a dark blue Nissan pulling up to her. The window came down to show off Taehyung wearing sunglasses and his boxy smile, “What?”
“I wasn’t expecting a Nissan...I was expecting that BMW that everyone talks about.”
He shrugged his shoulders, “Well not everyone knows I have a Nissan.”
“Does that make me special?”
“You are special.”
They made eye contact and Y/N felt her chest feel lighter at the comment. Compliments come and go but this one stayed with her. It stayed with her longer than it should. She let out a small laugh and nodded her head, “All ready to see Seungkwan play?”
“Yes, I am. Let me get to the door.”
She rolled her eyes as she watched Taehyung quickly unbuckle himself and rush to open her side. She let out a small laugh and bowed to him, “Thank you for being a gentleman.”
“Anything for my lady.”
The drive was pleasant. There wasn’t a lot of talking but it didn’t bother her too much. The jazz music played in the background as she watched nature out her window. Every now and then, Taehyung would glance at her through his mirror and would smile to himself. A smile that he didn’t even realize was on his face.
“Seungkwan!”
Seungkwan turned around with a smile but it quickly changed into a confused one when he saw Taehyung standing next to her, “H-Hey, thanks for coming?”
Y/N glanced at Taehyung and chuckled at Seungkwan’s nervousness, “This is my plus one that I told you about.”
Seungkwan stared at him with shock and stuck his out to shake, “I’m Seungkwan-”
“I know who you are. No need to introduce yourself as a star badminton player.”
Y/N watched Seungkwan’s face blush and she smiled with pride, “Seungkwan is a star on the court. He needs to be reminded by others and not just his friends.”
“Y/N...”
She heard his coach and she smiled at him, “Good luck.”
Taehyung smiled at him and patted his back gently, “Good luck.”
“Thanks, I'll see you later.”
Y/N watched him run off and she turned toward Taehyung with a smile, “Thank you.”
“For?”
“Boosting up his confidence. He doesn’t believe me when I say it.”
Taehyung shrugged his shoulders at this, “He’s your best friend. I’ll show him my support.”
“Well, it meant a lot to me. Thank you.”
They walked towards the stands and Taehyung glanced down to see their fingers touching. He wanted to intertwine their fingers together but he had to stop himself. He notices all the moles along her arm and the little cuts that tell a story. A story that he wanted to know. There was something about Y/N that he wanted to know so desperately. It was like a man that needed water. He glanced up to her face and the moles decorated her face like a castle with flowers. It was a sight to be seen. She was something he has never seen before and he wanted to capture all the different expressions she has. This was a feeling he has never had before and it was making him feel sick.
Y/N sat down with Taehyung following. She glanced at him and pulled out a bag of Skittles, “Want some?”
He glanced down at the candy and then back at her with a mischievous look, “You can get in trouble with that?”
She tilted her head at him with a smirk, “Are you going to tell on me?”
“Maybe I should so you can be taught a lesson.”
She rolled her eyes and popped a red skittle in her mouth, “No fun.”
“Don’t worry I also brought some snacks. Do you like sea salt chips?”
“I should tell you. You do know the best chips are the ones in the green bag?”
Taehyung let out a laugh and shook his head, “Of course you like spicy chips. It matches your personality.”
“Are you saying I'm spicy?
“It comes in waves, a person with boldness with different levels that captures the whole room. With that fiery attitude and that fire in their eyes. A spicy personality to make it known who you are. It’s admirable.”
She let out a laugh and shook her head, “You're so weird...a good weird though.”
“Does that mean your opinion of me has changed?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･
It’s been a week and every day, Y/N and Taehyung would spend time together to get to know each other. Every night, Taehyung would drive her to the river and they would just talk as the stars listened. Every morning, Y/N would make him breakfast and they would sit in the park near school listening to jazz. There were quiet moments but it didn’t feel uncomfortable if Taehyung accepted it. He didn’t get a lot of those in his normal life. Y/N relished in their quiet moments because it taught her more about Taehyung than his words could ever do.
Today was Seungkwan's Aunt's party and it was their first event to act like a couple. She was nervous that everyone was going to know she was lying. A piece of her wanted to run away and she never wants to run away. She always faced challenges head first but this was different. Seungkwan’s aunt loved to bring up the fact that her father left her. It was known throughout the families that Y/N was basically parentless and they would throw it at her whenever they could. Her mother made her rich but she also barely took care of the girl, she had to be her own parent. When people use the past to insult you in the future, it hurts more when it isn’t your fault.
She stared at herself with doubt. She was dressed in a light blue ballerina dress that had floral beadwork all around. When she turned the skirt would shine under the light and it made her feel seen. She put her hair up in a high bun with pearl earrings when she heard a knock at the door. She glanced at it and felt comfort knowing who it was. She carefully made her way with her heels clicking away on her floor and she opened it with a smile, “You're early.”
Taehyung shrugged his shoulders and passed her flowers, “I was too excited to get you these.”
She glanced down at the red tulips and smiled to herself, “Red tulips? Is there a reason?”
Taehyung shrugged and leaned against the doorframe, “It’s a secret.”
“We’re keeping secrets now? Come in.” He walked in and his eyes drifted to the delicate fabric on her body. The dress showed off her collarbones and the way she looked so elegant. It was something he wasn’t used to from her. She set the tulips down on her coffee table and glanced at Taehyung, “What?”
“Come here, please.” She gave him a raised eyebrow but did what he asked. He gently grabbed the hand and smiled at her, “Twirl for me.”
She did a twirl and when came back to face him, she asked, “Do you like it?”
“Like it, I love it.”
“You flatter me.”
“You deserve it.”
She smiled at this and glanced down at their fingers and let out a small cough. She gently removed her fingers and went to her kitchen ignoring her heart, “Do you want some water?”
“That would be great.”
The building was always grand. Seungkwan’s aunt always did this for him (even though he hated it). She claimed she wanted to show off her nephew's talents but in reality, it was to network. It was almost always to network for her company and she was just using Seungkwan as a cover-up. Seungkwan’s parents never noticed because they were too kind. Far too kind to be related to that witch.
They entered the building and everyone was dressed in their nice clothing. Businessmen with their ties a little too tight and wives that had blood-red lipstick smirking at you to feel small. It was like this every year. There was something about the room that made the confidence that Y/N usually had been completely wiped away.
“Are you okay, Y/N?”
She turned towards Taehyung and gave him a fake smile, “I’m okay...well I’m going to be. You’re good company.
Taehyung could sense that Y/N wasn’t feeling like herself. He intertwined their fingers together and rubbed her knuckles gently, “I’ll be here for you okay.”
“O-Okay.”
She quickly finds Seungkwan and Eunbi with Taehyung by her side. She gave them hugs and relief was written on her face, “You look beautiful, Y/N.”
“Thank you Seungkwan. You look good too.”
“Well if it isn’t L/N.”
Y/N felt that shiver and she slowly turned around to see Seungkwan’s aunt looking her up and down. Disapproval written all over her face, “Good-”
“I see you brought someone for once.”
Y/N glanced at Taehyung and nodded her head, “I’m sorry for the late-”
“I’m shocked you can get someone as good-looking as him. Especially when you're fatherless. It's shocking.”
Taehyung glared at the older woman and walked to be in front of Y/N with annoyance on his face, “Please don’t talk about my girlfriend like that when I am present. If you're going to insult one of us then insult me for I picked the wrong socks for the occasion.”
Y/N stared at him with wide eyes not knowing what to say but she felt her heartbeat louder. Seungkwan’s aunt tilted her head at him and studied his face, “Kim Taehyung, from the Kim family. It’s an honor to meet you.”
“I wish I could say the same. You insulted my girlfriend and now you’re trying to kiss my feet. Do you have no shame?”
Seungkwan’s aunt glanced down at her shoes and cleared her throat, “Is your father here? I would love to talk to him.”
“He is not but I am. The answer will be no. No matter what question you ask, it will be no. Y/N, let’s have a dance.”
Taehyung grabbed her wrist and they quickly made their way to the middle of the dancefloor. He wrapped his arm around her waist and they started to dance with the delicate strings filling the air. Y/N was in a state of shock at what just happened and Taehyung could sense that, “No one deserves that treatment.”
She looked at his face and shook her head, “It was said that it was my fault my father left...maybe I do deserve it.”
“It was his fault. He is not a man but a child. You deserve the world and I won’t let an old hag destroy that.”
He brought her in closer and she couldn’t help but smile, “You're passionate.”
“When it comes to you, yes.”
She let out a small laugh and looked away from his brown eyes, “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
She glanced back and they continued to stare, “I’m not sure but stop it.”
“I can’t help it. I’m just looking at you.”
After two more dances, Taehyung took her out to the garden and they stood next to each other with flowers around. The moon shone in the water fountain as they sat on the white stone. Y/N’s fingertips gently touched the water and smiled, “You know this is the first time I had fun at Seungkwan's aunt’s party.”
“Did I do it justice?”
“You did. I actually danced usually I just stayed in the back avoiding her but tonight I actually danced. It felt nice.”
He smiled and picked up a rose. He placed it in her lap and glanced at the stars, “I’m glad. Would you like to dance with me now?”
She glanced down at the rose and then back at him, “There’s no music. How will we dance?”
“We don’t need music to dance. We have each other to do so.”
She placed the rose on the stone and slowly stood up with Taehyung. He smiled at her and they slowly started dancing under the stars. His hand was on her waist as she avoided his eyes. There was something there but she couldn’t figure it out. The feeling in her chest was becoming too strong and she wanted to run away but it was as if Taehyung knew this, so he held on to her tighter. Their eyes met and he couldn’t help smiling and she returned it. It felt good to smile and it also made her sick.
“Mom, why are you here?”
Y/N was in her living room reading up for her test when there was a knock at the door. She was expecting Seungkwan or Eunbi but there she was with her mom. It’s been two weeks since the party so she expected them to come forward with some tea. Y/N sat on the couch with an annoyed look as her mother sat there with a smudged look, “Everything's coming together.”
“What is?”
“You're falling in love, can’t you see it.”
Y/N frowned at this and stood up, “I think it's time for you to go.”
“Falling in love can be beautiful. Just let it happen.”
“Are you trying to be my mother? Now? Where was this when I was younger?”
Y/N’s mother frowned at this and stood up, “I’m trying to give you advice. Falling in love can change the world.”
“Then why did dad leave? You give love advice to everyone but you can’t even follow it.”
“I told your father to leave because he wanted nothing to do with me.”
Y/N frowned at this and stared at her mother in shock, “What about me? I’m his daughter. Did he not want me?”
“I kept you-”
“You kept him away from me. Didn’t you?” The silence in the room made it clear to Y/N and she nodded her head at this, “I think it’s time for you to go.”
“Just fall in love, Y/N.”
Y/N opened the door and she was met with those brown eyes, “Taehyung? What are you doing here?”
“I came to visit you. I had to tell you something...”
“Are you Kim Taehyung? I told your mother that you were going to fall in love this month. How is it going?”
Y/N’s mother pushed past her and looked at Taehyung with a smile, “Your mother was excited to know her son was going to fall in love.”
Taehyung glanced at her and then back at Y/N, “Y/N, who is this?”
“This is my mother....”
Taehyung looked at her mother and then back at her, “Your mother is a fortune teller...the fortune teller that told my mother I would fall in love, and then I met you a month later...”
Y/N scoffed at this and looked at Taehyung, “Are you saying I set this up?”
Taehyung's eyes widened at this and shook his head, “That’s not what I’m saying. In fact the opposite.”
“What do you mean?”
“Y/N, I’m in love with you.”
Y/N stared at Taehyung with a shocked face and shook her head, “You can’t love a person like me...I have nothing. My mother and father both left me. What do I have to offer?”
“You offer me so much that I can’t even put it into words.”
“Y/N, this is love.”
Y/N shook her head and stared at her mother with anger, “You need to go. I can’t do this.”
“He just told you he love-”
“GO. NOW.”
Y/N watched her mother leave and then she glanced at Taehyung with a frown as tears started to form. Taehyung stood his ground and looked at her, “Y/N...I’m in love with you. You are the stars at night that keep the moon company. You are forever on my mind. When the sun makes its way or even when the moon appears, you always appear. I crave sleep because I know I can always see you. Y/N-”
“Tae...I simply can’t”
Taehyung glanced at his shoes and then back at her, “Is it because you won’t let yourself feel love?”
“I can’t do this right-”
“Y/N, please. Give me a chance.”
She stared at him and a single tear fell, “Don’t do this to me.”
“Y/N, I want you. In the short amount of time that I have been with you, I have learned so much. Please Y/N. We can be scared together.”
Y/N bit her lip and more tears came down, “Please...”
Taehyung nodded his head and took a step back, “I’ll be waiting for you...”
She watched him leave and quickly closed the door. She leaned against the wood and fell to the floor with tears coming down. Her mind is telling her to focus on her school but her heart wants Taehyung. It only wants him...but she is so scared to be in love. She can’t be left alone again.
.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･
Sometimes silence can be the greatest enemy. Y/N sat on her bed as she stared outside her window. The day was beautiful, not a cloud to be seen but her heart felt clouded. The look on Taehyung’s face was sketched into her heart and it made her feel sick. Was she making the right decision?
There was a knock at the door and she slowly got up from her bed. Not even caring to look through the peephole to see who it was, she opened the door. She let out a deep sigh and leaned against the door frame, “Mother now is not the time.”
“This is the time. You need me.”
Y/N glanced at her shoes and shook her head, “You won’t listen to me. Come in.”
They both sat on her couch while Y/N stared at the wall with an emotionless stare. While her mother looked at her with concern, “Y/N, the truth about your father...”
“Mom, I don’t think I want to hear it.”
“Please.”
Y/N looked up to see her mom’s face twist into a serious face and she nodded her head, “Okay...”
“Your father never loved me. He made that very clear. He just picked me because he knew I was the easiest to marry. When I became pregnant with you it was the happiest day of my life but he was the opposite. He wanted a son and I was afraid that he would...he would hurt you. He visited and acted like your dad until you were six, I had enough. It wasn’t fair for you. I told him to leave and never come back...and that’s what he did.”
Y/N stared at her mother with wide eyes and guilt creeping up her throat, “Why did you let me hate you for so long?”
“I felt like I deserved it. I made you think your father loved when in reality he never loved you....I’m so sorry.”
“No mom, I’m sorry.”
Her mom stood up and sat next to her grabbing her hands. She put her hands into her lap and smiled, “When I saw that my daughter was going to fall in love, I felt so happy.”
“I don’t think it's going to work out..”
“Nonsense, do you see how he looked at you?”
Y/N glanced up at her mother and shook her head, “No...I didn’t.”
“He looked at you as if you were his summer sky after a long winter. He loves you.”
“I can’t be capable of that.”
“Why?”
“I’m so stubborn...I put my foot down so fast that I can’t even think. I’m...I’m scared to love him. Not because he’s a bad man, the opposite really. He’s a great man. It’s rare to find that...I’m broken and I’ve been left alone for so long. Why would anyone love something broken? I couldn’t even get my own father to love me? How could I hold something so delicate?”
Y/N’s mom frowned at this and pushed hair behind her hair from her forehead, “That’s what love is. You take that chance and the person you chose to love makes a beautiful painting. Even through the hard times, the painting gets more colors. You deserve to be loved and cherished. Don’t let fear hold you back. Be in love, Y/N.”
Y/N looked away with a tear escaping and she let out a sour laugh, “Do you think he would want me still?”
“I know he does?”
“Why because you're a fortune teller?”
“No, because I’m your mother. For once in your life, do something for yourself.”
After the conversation with her mother, Y/N ran to Eunbi’s house not caring what shoes she had on. She knocked on the door to see Eunbi and Seungkwan looking at her with curious eyes, “Are you okay, you haven’t called us?”
Y/N nodded her head, “I need help to get ready for a party...I need to tell Taehyung something important.”
Seungkwan raised his eyebrow, “What is it?”
“That I love him...I’m still scared but I want to be scared with him. I want him...I want him so bad that I-I can’t even explain it. I need help.”
Seungkwan smiled at this and nodded his head, “I’m so happy you finally figured it out...Let’s get you ready.”
Eunbi opened the door wider and clapped her hands, “You need to wear lavender.”
“Why?”
“Taehyung loves lavender...duh.”
Taehyung stood next to Jimin as he stared down at his shoes with an emotionless face. Jimin sighed and nudged his shoulder, “Think of the positive...you get to see your grandma.”
“I have missed her. I wish she could’ve met Y/N.”
Jimin rubbed his shoulders gently and gave him a soft smile, “Breakups are hard. I should know.”
“This wasn’t even a breakup. It was me finally meeting the right person but it never goes my way.”
The door opened and Taehyung’s mother came in with a smile, “The party is starting. Your grandma is excited to see you.”
Taehyung nodded his head, “I’m excited to see her as well.”
His mother frowned and walked towards him to fix his tie. She fixed his hair and smiled, “Just remember the night has just begun.”
“Mom, she’s not coming...”
“You don’t know that to be true. So, just wait.”
Taehyung and Jimin made their way downstairs. His grandma was talking to a small group of people and hearing her laugh made him smile. Ever since his grandpa passed away it was rare to hear that laugh. He continued to walk towards her but he stopped in his tracks when he heard a familiar voice. He ignored Jimin’s voice and made his way through the group of people. He stood there frozen when he saw her.
Y/N turned towards him and gave him a gentle wave, “I didn’t want you to wait any longer....”
Taehyung glanced at his grandma who gave him an approved smile, “Grandma, I’m going to take Y/N.”
“Go right ahead.”
Taehyung’s grandma watched with a smile on her face. She turned towards her daughter and smiled, “Is she the one?”
Taehyung’s mom smiled and nodded her head, “I believe so.”
“I hope he is happy.”
Jimin walked towards them with a wine glass in his hand, “I know he is.”
Taehyung grabbed her wrist and made their way to the library where no one would be. He touched his finger to her chin as the light detailed out her face. Her eyes held anticipation and her lips were the perfect shape. He was glad no one noticed them. He smiled and this smile was as wide as the Cheshire cat.
“Taehyung...” She whispered and the softness of her voice made him want to fall to his knees.
He leaned in with their foreheads together, “Yes?”
“I-I love you...”
He smiled at this and brought his lips to hers, the gentleness that he wanted to showcase was taken over with hunger. He kissed her with a passion that he didn’t even know he had. This wasn’t about sex, this was about love. Love in its purest form.
“Taehyung?” Y/N gasped as he was gently pushing her down onto the sofa. He was kissing her jaw and then her neck, “Taehy-”
He smiled to himself when he nipped her earlobe and removed himself from her to stare down at her, “Yes?”
“I just-”
He kissed her again with the desire that was harboring in his chest. His hands went under the hem of her dress and looked back up at her, “Yes, my love?”
“Nothing. Continue.”
He pressed his hips against her and let the moon shine through the windows blush at the sight. He slid his hand over the soft skin of her thigh and then towards her stomach, “Don’t leave me.”
“I would never leave you. I will stand by you from now on.”
Taehyung smiled at this and leaned forward kissing her neck. His large hands cups her face as his thumb traced her jawline. He pressed his lips to hers as he slipped his tongue between their lips. She moaned into the kiss digging her fingers into his suit jacket. His warm lips were new but somehow they felt so familiar, “We can’t take off our clothes...someone can walk in.”
He frowned at this and kissed her forehead, “I’ll make it quick then. I’ll take you back to my apartment and show you properly.”
“Who said I’ll go home with you?”
He rolled his eyes and unbuckled his belt in record time. He unzipped his pants and glanced at her, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
His fingers toyed around her underwear before pulling it down to her ankles. She bucked her hips forward and he couldn’t help but smirk. He went under her dress skirt and started to place kisses around her clit, sucking it. A breathless moan left her lips as his fingers ran up and down her folds, “Taeee~.”
“I need to make sure you're ready for me, love.”
His fingers became coated in her arousal and she felt her body becoming tingly. He pulled away and she frowned at this. He leaned forward placing a kiss on her collarbone, “Don’t look too upset, you're going to come on my cock.”
He dragged the red tip along her wet folds causing her to whimper at the touch. She was already so sensitive. He switched positions and had her on top making things easier. She gripped onto his shoulders, guiding him into her. “O-Oh, please Tae.” He kissed the side of her head and groaned when she sank down fully.
The two panted heavily, relishing the moment before he started to move his hip. His mind takes over as he feels her clench at every movement. The sound of skin slapping echoed in the room that would make anyone blush. It wasn’t time to be shy.
“Look at you, just for me and only for me.”
He brushed soft kisses across her collarbones, thrusting in and out. His chest is pressed against hers as hands intertwine with each other. He clenched his jaw and leaned down to bring her into a passionate kiss. She pushed him gently and groaned, “Tae, can I come?”
“Yes, you can love.”
He swiftly thrusts into her and this was it for her. She arched her back and he smirked when he felt her cum go onto his pants. He continued to thrust into her and he kissed the side of her head as she wrapped her arms around his neck, “You did so good for me.” He let out a breathy groan and he couldn’t help himself from coming in her. She moaned at the feeling and they kissed as they moaned into each other's mouths.
When they pulled away she smiled at him, “I would like to go to your house.”
“Anything for you.” He leaned down and kissed the moles on her wrist.
.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*
“Taehyung?”
Taehyung turned around and raised his eyebrow, “Jennie?”
It was the start of a new semester and something Taehyung wasn’t looking forward to. He was in line to pick up his tea when he felt a tap on his shoulders. He was surprised to see Jennie looking at him as if she was begging him, “You never texted me back.”
“What? That was like four months ago, I thought that would be clear.”
Jennie frowned at this and crossed her arms over her chest, “I thought you wanted me. We could always spend time at the pool. I know you liked it there.”
“Listen, Jennie, I-”
“Babe.”
Jennie turned around to see Y/N smiling at Taehyung. Y/N walked past Jennie and hugged Taehyung. She kissed his cheek and turned towards Jennie with a raised eyebrow, “And you are?”
“I’m Jennie, who are you?”
Y/N smirked at this and kissed Taehyung’s neck. When she looked back at Jennie she smirked, “I’m his girlfriend.”
After the party for his grandmother, Taehyung asked Y/N out. It was a beautiful confession, I love you and I’m not used to love but I want to learn with you. I know you're scared of love but I am too. Let’s conquer this fear together. I love you Y/N. How could Y/N say no? Taehyung did keep his promise. He gave the tickets to Japan to her but they went together with his mother. The small vacation was enjoyable. It made Taehyung happy to know his mother loves his girlfriend.
Everyone at school was shocked about him being in a relationship. He understood why. Y/N’s friends were equally shocked because Y/N was so against relationships for the longest of times. It was clear to everyone that they were in love with each other and nothing was going to change that.
They went to visit Y/N’s mother and he tried his best to keep the peace.
“I can see a wedding in the future and five kids.”
Y/N rolled their eyes and intertwined her fingers with his, “Mom, no fortune telling. I’m trying to have a good lunch with you for once.”
“I can’t help it if I see it.” Y/N’s mom leaned forward towards Taehyung and smiled, “You like the name Aria?”
Taehyung nodded his head slowly, “Yes?”
“I love that name for my future granddaughter.”
“MOM!”
Seungkwan and Eunbi stopped reading Pen’s articles after they saw Y/N’s name. It wasn’t fun anymore when someone you cared about was being talked down to. Y/N was glad they stopped reading the trash. She still didn’t understand how Pen knew some things but she wasn’t going to think too much about it.
She smiled when she saw Jennie’s face drop when she said this. Jennie looked around her awkwardly and just left the scene. Y/N smiled at this and looked up to Taehyung, “I don’t think she likes me?”
“Who cares? I love you.”
“And I love you.
────°˖✧ ✧˖°────────°˖✧ ✧˖°────
Tag List:
@sumzysworld @whoa-jo
#bts reactions#bts scenarios#bts imagines#bts jungkook#bts namjoon#bts seokjin#bts taehyung#bts jimin#bts yoongi#bts x reader#Bts#taehyung x reader#bts taehyung x reader#bts fanfction#bts fanfic
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Tsundere turned Yandere?
Listen, I reaaallly don't like tsunderes, I find the concept to be annoying, having someone essentially treat you like shit because they can't grow a pair and accept their feelings for you.
But, the concept of a tsun going yandere sounds pretty interesting.
Surely, after dealing with so many snarky comments and polarizing experiences, not knowing if they genuinely enjoy your presence/friendship or if their just tolerating you because you two share an overlapping social circle. There's only so much you can take recieving gifts from them only for them to turn around act like it was burden to go all the way to the store to buy you it even though you never asked. Like, who does that? Gets mad at YOU for giving YOU gifts...?
It makes you stressed. The contradiction of verbal abuse and caring, affectionate actions leave you confused and annoyed. Eventually, the only right thing to do for your sanity is drop them as a friend. Yeah, you'd probably have to drop the other couple friends that are part of each of your social circle, but if it meant not being overwhelmed with gifts, affection, and berating comments, then so be it.
You break the news to them after another encounter. They had called you stupid for being cold one day(it was the middle of winter, why tf wouldn't you be cold!?). They began dragging you to the nearest café for a cup of hot chocolate, but you pulled away and confessed how your feeling. You wanted to do it as cordial as possible, but that uneeded insult had you being a little harsher than you liked it to be.
To be honest, it made you feel bad for a second, when you saw their resting bitch face melt away, their eyes going wide as they flinched away from you when you raised your voice. A look crossed their face that you couldn't quite discern, but you can tell it fell under the line of surprise and sadness. Heartbreak, maybe? But why would they be heartbroken? They've been nothing but a pain in the ass to you.
You fled before they could shake themselves from their shock and respond. They called after you, but you can tell by their fading calls, they were not following after you.
You blocked them on everything, and explained the situation to your friends before leaving all groupchats that had the little brat in them, and took the week off to settle your nerves and hide away. Not because you thought anything bad would happen, but just to hope whatever possible attempts at contact would wash over when they'll eventually(hopefully) give up. You knew a few times you got them coming to your door, but you never bothered to respond.
Once the week ended, and you decided to enter back into society, the first few days went by smoothly. Only to be awoken one morning to barrage of texts and missed phone calls from an unknown number.
The texts started off tame. A wave of apologies and begs of forgiveness. Confessions of love and compliments, telling you how they never meant to hurt you. How they were terrified of you finding out they were in love. The fear of rejection was so bad that they completely overlooked how their actions would affect you. It got more and more incoherent and unhinged until it was nothing but a massive load of photos taken of you throughout the past few days. Distant photos. You're in a grocery store in the first few photos. Going down multiple aisles. You're getting milk and eggs in one, chips and soda in another, deodorant, and body wash in these one. At the checkout lane in the last.
You're at a gas station in the next. Someone was taken the photos from within their car. You're stepping out of your own. Heading into the station. They're zoomed into the window, getting your blurry silhouette at the register. And dozens of you just standing at the pump filling your car.
They have you at your workplace, on a walk, at a restaurant, and a coffee shop. They put little quips of how amazing you looked in the photos, how you made them feel. They talked about wanting to snap the neck of the waiter who took your order when they made you laugh.
Voicemails were them alternating from having straight up mental breakdowns, sobbing uncontrollably as they tried to plead for forgiveness between each gasp of air. Others were just straight rambles, detailing their stalking and reiterating the same affectionate compliments found in the texts. They went on about how they dream of dates with you, how your wedding would look. It was such a 180 from how they used to be. Did that one argument seriously have them snap this bad?
You told them off before blocking their number, attempting to continue your day, albeit so much more paranoid that you liked it to be.
It was terrifying. No matter how much you looked over your shoulder, studied every single person in your vicinity, and tried to blend yourself in the crowds, you could never catch a glimpse of their face, nor shake the unnerving feeling of eyes burning into your body.
Gifts would start showing up at your doorsteps and workplace. Almost every day you were continuously blocking new numbers to try and get them to stop sending you messages and photos of you with no such luck.
You were at your wits end. None of your friends could help. Hell, several of them just seemed to disappear. They just quit contacting you. Police were only minor help, actually taking it a little bit seriously until they came back and told you they talked to your alleged stalker and determined it couldn't possibly be them and that you should contact them when this alleged stalker began getting aggressive. (Hello?? You have voicemails of their fucking voice what do you mean its not them!? You knew this town was shit...)
Though, one good thing came out of contacting the police. It seemed to have scared them enough to halt their harassment. All phone calls and texts came to an end. No more gifts. You could finally breathe.
This continued for a couple weeks. Life returned back to normal. So normal, in fact, that you finally felt safe enough to attend a bar party with a few coworkers one night, just to celebrate what you thought was your new found freedom.
Its just... such a coincidence you weren't the only one invited. Not that you knew. No, not until the next morning after a horrendous hangover. A hangover you weren't expecting. You had one drink, didn't you? Why does it feel so much worse than a hangover? And why can't you move your body? When did you have so many photos of yourself in your room?
And why is their a familiar face looking down at you with that unsettling grin?
#yandere#yandere scenarios#yandere imagine#tsunder yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x gn reader#gn yandere#ill only accept tsuns if you can turn em yandere
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I think Huawei and Xiaomi also unfortunately stopped providing plugs with their phones too. It's the fact that all of the charging wires you get with phones now have a c-type connection instead of usb-a so you HAVE to buy a new plug just to use the provided wire that gets me! Phone companies really are getting too greedy now :c
I even like that all the charging ports have changed to USB-c but phone companies 100% knew what they were doing when they knew a lot of people didn't have one of those chargers yet and still tried to pull the whole "well everyone has a charging plug so you don't need a new one" the vindictive pricks
#ask#anon#Found out this morning I can charge my new phone with my switch charger#So suck it samsung#It's so stupid tho#Like as someone who only buys a new phone#When its absolutely necessary#Obviously the plug I have is gonna be a old just USB a plug#I just hate it so much#Someone in the notes of that post#Reminded me that you used to get free earphones with your phone#Now you don't even get a charger#Thanks I hate it
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someone was recommending an app for android and i asked if there was an ios equivalent and got the whole “apple sucks, just get an android” like…….buddy where am i getting this new phone from? are YOU gonna buy it for me? i’ve had one phone in my life that wasn’t second hand and that was my first flip phone. if my current phone died right now, i just wouldn’t have a phone until someone i know got a new one and was nice enough to give me their old one. are you expecting me to just turn down their offers until someone just gives me an android?
#i don’t get annoyed about it too often but my current phone is possibly the worst phone i’ve ever had#so like. i’m not just sitting here thinking hard about what phone to get next. i will take what i can get.#same with laptops. i haven’t had one in nearly two years and if someone offered me a mac i’d take it in an instant#no matter how much i’d prefer windows#like maybe consider that your phone-shopping experiences aren’t universal. i’d you don’t know an ios equivalent just say that#personal#sorry i’ve just had so many people criticise my phone recently with the whole tone of ‘get a new one’ and it’s getting to me#i’ve started just straight-up asking if they’ll buy me one to try to get the point across#but on this topic. hey does anyone have a phone or laptop they’re willing to give away 🙃#kinda annoyed at my sister who said the other week that she might get a new phone and could give me her old one#and a few days later i asked what kinda timeframe that would be and she got mad at me for being pushy about it#like ‘i was just considering it you can’t just expect it’ like wtf i was just asking. if it’s not gonna be soon just say it’s not soon yeesh#idk im just getting overwhelmed and annoyed at people being so presumptive and also demanding of what i should do#my phone has about 4gb of space i can actually use so i have to spend half my time swapping which apps i have installed#and i don’t have a laptop so it’s literally my only portable device of that kind#DO YOU THINK THIS IS A CHOICE THAT I HAVE MADE?#like can you think for maybe 2 seconds about why someone might have a phone that sucks#‘why dont you just—‘ MONEY. the answer is MONEY. why tf do you think i ‘dont just’#anyway. tips are enabled and i’m pretty sure my pypl is ashtonlove
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After the hospital bombing, I finally heard back from my grandmother and confirmed that several of my relatives were murdered by Israeli bombing. Seven of them, to be precise. Three are still going, including her. We've been talking constantly ever since.
Asked if it was possible to head south, and was told they did but were also bombed there. So they decided to go back home, in Zeitoun. Their home was bombed and they were pulled out of the rumble, then driven by ambulances to the al-Ahli Arab Hospital. There were people in every corner. Gazans sheltering, sleeping on the floor. Gazans dying on the floor, waiting for beds.
Four were declared dead on arrival, three were in need of surgery and other three were just bandaged. Then, a bomb was dropped in the parking lot that made parts of the ceiling collapse, like Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah reported in that horrific conference/interview. Those in need of surgery died.
By the way, just in case you didn't know: the Church of Saint Porphyrius, the third oldest in history, bombed by Israel a few days back, was located near the hospital.
When looking for new shelter, they saw schools with signs hanging outside, "We can't take any more families." They met families, sympathetic but already sheltering too many people. They're now staying in an apartment building they found empty. Sleeping in the corner of the living room. If the family comes back, they'll apologize and leave.
Told me she was saving her phone battery for when the bombing stopped, and she had to ask for help to rebuilt the neighborhood. But she doesn't think it's gonna stop anymore. The ones still with her are mute most of the time, like they're saving energy, but she feels lonely and wanted to talk. There's no internet and to connect to WhatsApp, people are buying "a card from the supermarket, there's a password and username." Not sure what she meant. Still, the internet is inconsistent and won't load neither videos or images nor pages, so she doesn't know what's happening on the outside world.
Told her there were a lot of people protesting to stop the genocide, she replied, "The bombings are getting worse by the day." The bombing yesterday was the worst she ever witnessed. The entire neighborhood is infested with the smell of death, of decomposing bodies. Bodies are piling up in the streets and she's not sure if it's because they ran out of places to store them, but most of them are in bags. The smoke of the bombings hide the blue sky—she hasn't seen the clouds for a while.
Asked if I could share their pictures, names and dreams with people and was told, of which I partly agree, "they're not entertainment." If anyone genuinely cared, they would be alive—I'd argue there are people who do care, but I'm not gonna lecture her pain. And they don't deserve to be used to fulfill someone's sick fantasy. Told me to remember what some Israelis do with pictures of dead Palestinians. And I do.
For those of you who are not familiar, many times before settlers got together to celebrate the murder of Palestinians. For one, in 2015, Israeli settlers set a house in Duma, West Bank on fire. An 18-month old baby, Ali Dawbsheh, was burnt alive. Both parents later died of wounds and only a 5-year-old, Ahmad, survived, although severely injured.
Two celebrations of their murder are widely known, one at a wedding and others outside the court in which two were indicted for the terrorist attack. In the wedding, guests stabbed a photo of the toddler, Ali, while others waved guns, knives and Molotov cocktails. Israel's Minister of National Security, Itamar Ben-Gvir, was present.
That's what happens in an apartheid. Palestinians are so abused by authorities that their "innocent civilians" come to accept the brutality as necessary or are desensitized by our suffering. After all, it's been 75 years—get used to it!
So I won't risk the image of my loved ones, in fear they are used in these kinds of depravity. I will say, though, the world lost a young footballer. Lost a female writer and an aspiring ballerina. Lost a kind father, who was also a great cook, and a loving mother that enjoyed sewing and other types of handicraft art. Lost a math teacher and a child that wanted to become one.
People think Israel is testing new weapons on them. There's civilians arriving at the hospital with severe burns, which they thought was from white phosphorus, but apparently the pattern is different from the one caused by white phosphorus. It's widely believed Israel tests weapons in Palestinians.
Jeff Halper, author of War Against the People, a book on Israel's arms and surveillance technology industries, said: "Israel has kept the occupation because it's a laboratory for weapons."
They've ran out of drinkable water and the "aid" Biden sent was only for the South of Gaza and no fuel, for hospitals, was allowed in. Many shelves in the supermarket are empty. She said many are convinced that if they don't die from the bombing, they'll die from starvation or dehydration, or whatever disease will develop from the dirty water they're drinking.
Told me all people do now is pray, cry and die. Told me she hopes West Bank is spared. Told her Israel bombed a mosque in West Bank and dozens of Palestinians in West Bank are being murdered by settlers, so she bided me goodbye.
#palestine#free palestine#gaza#free gaza#may allah protect them#may almighty allah see our pain#hopefully she'll message me tomorrow
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The overall concept of kids bringing their phones to school BAFFLES me tbh. Like what do you mean 10 year olds have phones? What do you mean they’re allowed to bring them to school???
#i got my first phone when i was 9 but it was literally only because i was going on a trip with my grandparents#my parents wanted a way to keep in touch with us and neither of my grandparents were interested in owning a phone at that time#(my granddad has one now but my grandma hates them with a passion. she doesn’t even like having a landline. she’s so based for that tbh)#anyway. it was a nokia brick and i LOVED it; i thought it was the best because it lit up at the sides and i could take tiny photos#i had about 10 numbers. whenever i got a new person’s number i would text them incessantly#i still was not allowed to take it to school and i wouldn’t have even WANTED to considering 1) what would i have been able to do with it?#we weren’t allowed to text or call people in class and that was really all my phone could do lol#and 2) it would’ve got stolen#tbh i never brought anything nice with me to school because it WOULD’VE got stolen. in the time i was there i had a coat; a bag#and two pencil cases stolen. oh and my watch but whoever stole it dropped it and a teacher found it#NONE of this stuff was as valuable as a phone. i got my pencil cases for £3 maximum at whsmith#so i am absolutely bamboozled at the concept of kids bringing SMARTPHONES to school. like what do you mean you as a parent are buying#something for your kid that costs hundreds of pounds and then LETTING THEM GO TO SCHOOL WITH IT???#‘oh they need to be able to get in touch with me and i need to be able to get in touch with them—‘ call the receptionist’s office#like a normal person!!! sorry but anyone who’s a parent of a school age kid… well most of us anyway. we’re old enough to remember LANDLINES#we’re old enough to know the concept that if someone is at a building; such as a school or workplace; that building has a LANDLINE PHONE#maybe several. and also: if your kid has gone MISSING from school then you need to call the police#that’s it!! if your kid needs you they need to go to school reception. if you need your kid you need to go to or call school reception#i’m sorry i’m not seeing why everyone needs a phone at school. the only thing i can think is if your bus/transport ticket or pass#is on there. even then - it should be in your bag & switched off throughout classes#tbh even at break time - socialise with people?? like by all means check your notifications quickly but you don’t need to be ON your phone#not at break and defffinitely not in class#i had a smartphone all through college and university and i never used it in class. like. i don’t get why people seem to think it’s okay#personal
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tags. fem!reader, boss/employee relationship, stupidly domestic, little wife kink in there somewhere, nanny reader, single dad gojo, breeding kink [18+ only]
You sometimes find yourself wistfully imagining having a family of your own—a soft and sweet little bundle to cuddle and someone strong and capable (competent) at your side. But you can’t think of the last time you’ve been on a date where that person had the same interest in something more serious than casually sleeping around.
Nannying seemed like the natural conclusion, especially when you’re still settling in a new city and barely scraping by for rent and student loans for a degree you don’t use.
You pick up a few jobs just to get a feel for it: parents going away for a honeymoon, a last-minute call-in, a weekend business trip. Then a friend of a friend says she makes enough to afford one of those picturesque apartments that overlook tall high-rises and iridescent lights, the very ones you’ve dog-eared in real-estate magazines.
All it takes are a few phone calls and an interview until you’re packing up your apartment and taking the freeway outside of the city to somewhere remote and expensive, your car looking almost out of place parked beside the shiny new one in the long driveway.
You rap on the front door before you lose your nerve, and a few moments later, it opens, and you’re unsure who looks more out of place: this man with a smile too big, dressed for work, immaculate suit dampened by the baby rag slung over his shoulder and what looks like drool on his crisp collar, or you in your scuffed shoes and second-hand store clothes, standing in front of the nicest house you’ve ever seen.
“The nanny?”
“Yes,” you mutter, licking your lips. “That’s me.”
“Good, Ren just woke up from his nap,” he says, opening the door a little wider with a creak. The darkness behind him is almost comforting.
You take a deep breath and pass over the threshold into his home.
The entire time, his hand stays on the small of your back to steer you toward the nursery, and a shiver threatens up the length of your spine.
Three months. That’s how long it takes before your employer poses a problem.
It’s not that he’s a terrible boss; in fact, he’s quite the opposite. He lets you take over one of the many spare rooms in his massive house, pays you double the regular rate, and gives you time off when you ask for it.
It also helps that Ren is cute, only a year old, and still so sweet and tiny.
Perfect.
The problem lies in that you know what he sounds like first thing in the morning, that he knows how you like your coffee, that he helps you fold laundry in the living room while the baby naps, how you catch him staring anytime you hold his son—his expression shuttered, a foreign thing that you can’t read. It’s all so terribly domestic.
Terrible in that you think it’s a horrible idea to develop a crush on your boss, that you can’t help but get flustered anytime he so much as looks your way, even if it’s fleeting. How a sleepy smile before he retires to his room for the night can turn your thoughts into a scattered, ill-defined mess of what they used to be until all that’s left are words like spun sugar melting on your tongue.
But also, it’s not normal, at least not from your experience.
You were lucky in the past if your employer even wanted to know about their kid’s day. Barely saying hello once they walk through the front door before sending money to your bank account.
Satoru—because that’s what he asked you to call him one afternoon while you were in the middle of feeding Ren mashed banana, a lazy smile curling the edges of his lips after you say it for the first time—wants to know everything: what Ren ate, if he laughed, how your day was, if you finally got your hands on that book you’ve been meaning to buy.
“You don’t have to ask about my day,” you tell him shyly, accepting the glass of wine he proffers you after spending the past hour trying to put a teething baby to bed. “To make me feel better, that is.”
“Would it be so bad if I said I want to? You live here, too.”
You try to separate the two: that he cares as your employer and not for any other reason, and how you sometimes catch the soft look in his eye whenever he looks at you could make you believe otherwise.
Cool fingers cup your chin gently, thumb caressing the top of your cheek, now close enough that you catch a few of the warm notes of his cologne, a move that’s probably very inappropriate between a boss and an employee.
“I never say anything I don’t mean.”
You swallow, nodding, slightly shaky, breath caught in your chest. “Okay.”
“Good girl.” He retreats to his office before witnessing how those two words knock the wind out of you.
He starts saying things like our shopping list, our car—because he gave you the keys to the SUV parked beside his car and hasn’t touched it since; for you and the baby, he said, plus it’s terrible on gas when I drive it to work—our house, our baby. You don’t think he means to do it; it's more of an easy slip in conversation.
But then, one morning, he’s rushing around the kitchen, hair still damp and smelling like his shampoo, as he grabs his coffee and briefcase from the counter, kissing Ren’s forehead first…and then yours.
You’re half convinced that you imagined it—that his lips hadn’t stayed there for a second longer than necessary—until he straightens his tie and heads out for the day with a ‘be good’ tossed over his shoulder, and you’re left wondering if he meant to say that to you or Ren.
It sets off a chain reaction of thoughts whirling away in your head, leaves you wanting and wondering—only ever allowing yourself to fantasize a little when the house is quiet and dark, the baby monitor humming on your nightstand, and images of your boss flit behind closed eyelids as you fit your hand underneath your soft sleep shorts.
In the morning, you worry he can tell what you did, his smile almost too sharp, too something—more teasing than what you’re used to—his hand resting on your lower back as he leans down to kiss Ren’s chubby cheek while you make breakfast.
“I have a meeting this afternoon, so I’ll be late. Want me to pick up some food on the way home?”
No, you think, there’s no way he knows.
You spend most of the morning cleaning and folding the array of graphic onesies Satoru has a penchant for dressing Ren in, and the later half walking around the pool because it’s warm and Ren enjoys splashing around in the water. It’s enough to tucker him out for bed early, unable to keep his eyes open while eating a plate of mashed potatoes.
It’s also the first time in weeks that you have the night to yourself, no baby keeping you busy, no Satoru to—well.
After a long shower, you step out of the bathroom, moving into the hallway. And there are many reasons why you felt confident walking the few steps it took to reach your bedroom. Most revolve around what Satoru told you that morning, so you don’t expect him to be standing there, shirtsleeves rolled up, piercing gaze sliding down the length of you wrapped in a towel and little else.
“I brought home those drunken noodles you like,” he says when his eyes focus back on your face, his whole expression softening into a smile.
A beat. “Thank you,” you whisper, unable to look away.
He tucks the wet strands of hair clinging to your cheek behind your ear. “Why don’t you get dressed, and I’ll join you downstairs?”
The noise in your brain goes static.
You’re unsure what causes it, but everything changes when he comes home early one afternoon and finds you and the baby napping in the nursery. He has this soft look on his face and something else you can’t decipher with his piercing blue eyes settled firmly on you.
Ren coos softly into your shoulder.
When Satoru picks him up and settles him in the crib, then walks you to your room—here, let me help you—and when he hovers in your doorway, you let him in without question.
He doesn’t waste any time peeling off your clothes, eager to have you naked and splayed out underneath him. You cum on his tongue more times than you can count until you’re silently begging him to fuck you.
He laughs, large hands spread over your tummy.
“Use your words, baby. I’m not a mind reader.”
You feel like you’re someone else watching you from somewhere else, another body rocking against the length of your boss’s cock, back arching every time you manage to find the friction you need. He’s hard against your back, thick in a way that makes you wonder if he did enough to stretch you out.
“I-I want—”
All other thoughts are obliterated by the stretch and press of him against your cunt.
“Think I’m going to keep you,” he rasps, lips dragging over your throat. “Keep this drippy little cunt spread open on my desk whenever I want while the baby naps. Would you like that? For me to fuck you full until you give me a baby.”
You clench, nerves shot.
“Gonna get all round with my baby, stay here forever,” he mumbles when he draws away, and you can’t tell if the words are meant for you to hear or slip out without him realizing. “Fuck—breed my little wife until it takes—”
Your eyes roll up, lost in the little promises he paints across your skin, body shivering over and over until you’re sobbing from it until he has to clamp a hand down over your mouth—shh, you’re going to wake the baby—going limp when he finally cums, pressing as deep as your body will allow, as if he can somehow imprint himself there.
Wonders if maybe he’s been building up to this moment all along.
It’s so easy to lay there after, blissed out while he litters kisses across your face and collarbones, letting him lift your hips up to slide a pillow underneath, even though the position is awkward when he tries to cuddle you afterward.
His fingers draw shapes on your stomach, giving you a wistful look, like he can’t believe he’s laying here with his cum still dripping between your thighs—no matter how many times he scoops it up and pushes it back inside you. “Do you think it’ll take?”
And you don’t have the heart to tell him about the little foil packet of pills tucked away in your nightstand.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#.things i write
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ALEJANDRO! — GOJO SATORU. ☆
➤ popstar!gojo masterlist
headline. after an argument regarding gojo’s career, you two take a break and it hurts. you aren’t together, so why should you care? maybe the fame is getting to gojo’s head after all. because you see him get a new assistant the very next day.
word count. 6.9k (crying)
warnings. fem! reader, popstar!gojo au, tiny angst ending, angst, unprotected, praise, dirty talk, you make up, squírting, implied multiple órgasms, overstim, dumbification, size kink, mixed feelings, impact play.
“satoru, are you even listening to me?” you furrow your brows in sheer annoyance. the popstar, more like the brat continued to look past you as he spoke. sometimes you questioned why you’d even put up with him for so long. of course, you grew a liking to him, as did he for you, maybe?
it was a brief silence and he rolls his eyes, burying his hands into his pockets. “i heard you. i just don’t care,” he replies before dramatically yawning. “i’m adding that track on the album whether you like it or not.”
you blink twice, he was so unserious. it was as if for a split second he forgot who he was.
the gojo satoru. the two of you were in public, currently outside of a shopping mall. he was secretly buying copies of his cds to get more sales before this meaningless altercation started. “i just think it’s not a good idea,” you sigh, feeling as if you probably weren’t gonna get through to him. “the label was strict on the duration, and—”
“you know what?” gojo abruptly cuts you off, trodding towards you. he leans forward, giving you a quick second glance before letting off a subtle scoff. “i can’t. we’re…this thing. whatever it is, we’re done,” and your eyes widen. him referring to whatever this thing was between the two of you as just something. perhaps it was foolish of you to think it would be something more.
without even thinking, you spit out, “fine. maybe you should get a new assistant then.”
“maybe i will, because someone doesn’t know how to fuckin' manage their client properly.”
oh.
it was an awkward dead silence after that. the awkwardness was so much, you could hear a pin drop.
as you glance up at the popstar, he looks unreadable. not a single thought through that brain of his. with hands buried in his pockets, he scoffs. “ya know how easy it is to replace you?”
“satoru, i’m trying to help you,” you furrow your eyebrows, briefly gawking around and trying not to make too much of a scene. you doubt lowering your tone a few notches would help. most likely, this little argument would be on the front headlines of tmz soon. “you don’t make the best decisions when it comes to things like this.”
“it’s gojo to you,” he rolls his eyes, and he turns his heels, staring to trod away. he pulls down his designer shades and he’s so dramatic. strutting down the sidewalk, he pulls out his phone before his lips curl into a pout. “address me right.”
you let off a sigh, purposely stepping right in front of him. he looks down at you, literally with a look of annoyance and slight vex.
“whatever, fine….gojo,” and you stare at him. honestly, the more you thought to yourself, why were you trying so hard? normal people would have taken the hint, but you…you felt the urge to keep testing his patience.
yet perhaps that wasn’t the brightest idea, because after all, you were dealing with a posh and snobby international brat. “firing me is only gonna make you look bad. besides, you know how the press-”
“princess, let me put it to you this way,” gojo mumbles, a toothpick casually sticking out near the corner of his mouth. the popstar gets right up close to you. you loathed how good he smelled—a rich cologne scent. specially, his own signature cologne from his very own brand.
the more he inches closer towards your face, the more you feel a tingly feeling creep its way inside your stomach. “i want nothing to do with you anymore, assistant,” and his voice, it had little to no emotion—you give him the same share of eye contact, trying to stand your ground but for some reason his words hit you like a gut punch.
a full blown gut punch to be exact. you’ve managed this brat for practically a various length of months, only for all it to go to waste from a stupid argument.
“you’re replaceable, and if you don’t wanna do your job then i’ll find someone else,” he shrugs, dusting off the shoulder parts of his leather bedazzled jacket. gojo tilts his head, studying your facial expression. in the midst of saying something, he continued, “besides, you said it yourself. to get myself a new assistant.”
“so you’re just throwing this all away?” you utter, a mere deadpan plastered on his face.
gojo grows quiet as you speak, yet he groans with a subtle eye roll. the secondhand embarrassment got to you too. again—why were you trying so hard? a question not ever you yourself could answer at that particular moment. “did me saying 'i love you' not mean anything?”
oh fuck.
you didn’t mean to say that. but at this particular moment, you kind of didn’t care.
maybe you were just a tad bit delusional but it couldn’t have been just you. out of all the times you spent with this popstar, getting to know him, saving him the trouble of getting himself hurt by fans….anything.
there had to be something there … right?
you did tell gojo you loved him out of the blue. just right after the grammys last week, it slipped out. one of the most embarrassing positions you’ve been in.
and the worst part was that gojo didn’t even say it back. more like he figured girls with him always said they loved him after having a mind-blowing orgasm from him. so you brushed it off, laughing it off awkwardly and he did the same. yet, you decided it’d be the smart idea and bring that simple reoccurrence up right now.
gojo runs a hand through his hair, pulling the tooth pick out of his mouth before scoffing. “not this again,” and with another sassy eye roll, he shifts his feet into the ground, “you’re not gonna win this argument, princess. it was fun, i’ll admit that.”
stupidity couldn’t have plastered on your face even more than that particular moment.
gojo left you there, unemployed and a total idiot.
for whatever reason, the strange ache in your heart tightened as you watched him walk away with that same fake-grin he’d have for the entire world to see. winking at his multiple die-hard fan girls.
although, it’s barely the next day before you spot gojo at some expensive shopping store reserved for only a-list celebrities. seeing him wasn’t what initially caught your attention, it was seeing him with another girl.
that made your eyebrows curl up into the biggest furrow imaginable. by him saying you were easy to replace, you didn’t think he’d be so quick.
giving her the exact same treatment he gave you, you nearly choke on your pretzel, observing the two of them.
gojo has an arm slung over her, his loud laughter that could be heard from just about a mile away.
was this jealousy you were feeling? it would be stupid, the two of you weren’t even together nor were exclusive—yet seeing your client, well ex-client made you feel a certain type of way. it was not to anyone’s surprise, seeing the numerous headlines of celebrity gossip headlines talk about the entire kerfuffle.
whatever happened to you…?
lots of people speculated the two of you were dating on the low, especially after what occurred at one of his most famous controversial performances. gojo fucking you whilst his mic was on the entire time. you’d probably never be able to live that down with him, neither would he to say the least.
you didn’t even know his new assistant’s name, but you already disliked her. the way she’d laugh at literally anything that came out of gojo’s mouth. he could let off an obnoxious belch and she’d think it was the most funniest thing in the world.
after a while, they end up leaving and you let off a irritated scoff.
maybe you were dramatic, but you wouldn’t lie and say that it stung a bit. the thought—no, the sheer reality of being replaced. you thought you were getting somewhere with the popstar.
out of the many myriad talks the two of you shared, including him even opening up about his past relationship—you figured maybe there was some kind of spark. but maybe, you thought wrong.
gojo said he was going to replace you, and that’s exactly what he did.
coincidentally enough though, you stayed over gojo’s penthouse the last time the two of you were together. you still had his key and forgot to give it to him. dragging your feet towards his residence, you grumbled.
how convenient.
you really weren’t in the mood to talk to him. besides from last time you could remember, he ended up ‘accidentally’ misplacing your panties too.
you decided to suck it up, making your way towards the popstar’s well kept home. you pause at the doormat that read in bold grassy letters, ‘home of a guy with a large dick’ and gibe. so unserious, to think he was one of the most popular pop artists known to date. he was always known to spend his money on the most witless things.
bawling up your fist, you prepare to knock on the front of the door. but instead, you just unlock it with the key. there’d be no point, besides, you’d be in and out, right? wrong…
because the moment you open the door, stood a real tall and shirtless satoru gojo. it was as if he knew you’d show up.
“mhm. just can’t get enough of me, huh,” gojo cocks his head towards the right, giving you a long four second glance. you felt your face get hot, the singer was in nothing more than a towel wrapped around his waist. his figure, quite slim and well built. droplets of water raced down his v-line, and you couldn’t help but sneak a long stare. “should get ya arrested for trespassin'.”
your eye twitches, finding it hard to look at him in the eye before you grumble. “i’m not stalking you, idiot. i came to give you your spare key back,” and then as he’s blankly staring at you, you halt your speech a bit before mumbling. “…and i came to get my panties back.”
“girl…huh? you’re mumbling. can’t understand ya.”
gojo sneers, and you hated how flawless his perfectly toned body was. it was distracting you, your thoughts, words, everything. the way the white towel was just barely hanging onto his waist.
his waist…so slim.
he was perfectly sculptured from his hips to further down. with a hand of his, he tugs the fabric of the towel up a bit, you were just about to spot a few specks of white hair. his happy trail, one of your favorite things about his body. how the hair just ran down and down. his sharp v-line was a force to be reckoned with. it wasn’t much a surprise that gojo was fit though, he was a trained dancer after all.
“i said,” you start to repeat yourself, trying to snap yourself out of whatever lewd trance he had you in. “…i want my panties back.”
“you came to see me jus’ to get those back?” gojo smirks, intaking a sharp breath before running a hand through his dampened hair. “is this your way of telling me you’re not wearing any panties right now?”
“i—” you utter, being cut off by mere embarrassment. gojo giggles at your lack of response, raising his head just a bit whilst awaiting your response. “can you be serious? why would i show up to your house without any underwear?”
gojo smugly grins. “you tell me. besides, what makes you think i have them?”
you glare at him and he pokes his bottom lip out. “fine, whatever. geez,” and then he moves in front of you, closing the broad door shut. you make your way inside of his doorway, awkwardly shifting your weight with your feet as he took a few steps back. “it’s in the ah…laundry room. had one of my maid’s do the load ‘n they got your stuff mixed up with mine.”
you follow gojo towards downstairs, where his huge laundry room was kept. it’s not like you had to necessarily follow him. you knew the layout of his penthouse like the back of your hand. nevertheless you were on his heels, pulling down on your skirt at the awkward silence.
was he just gonna be quiet the entire time?
him walking in front of you gave you the perfect chance to stare at his back, his back muscles specially…
it was unintentionally sexy, each step he took you watched as his muscles flex and crook together. still, he wasn’t exactly dry. it was a few leftover droplets of water racing down his back. you could make out a few scratch marks near his back as well, you were trying to remember if that was your doing or someone else.
“watch your step.”
immediately, you get cut off with gojo’s words and you fall face first into a steep like area. he groans, catching you with quick reflexes. “still so clumsy,” he mutters, and you stare up at the popstar. he returns a gaze, and then he looks away, getting you back on your feet. “c’mon..”
it was gauche—being handed your own bawled up panties. “um, thank you,” you tell him with the most somewhat neutral expression. gojo studies your eyes for a moment before nodding. the silence was killing you, and right when he was about to make his way back upstairs, you tug on his arm. “wait.”
“yeah?” he sighs deeply, bringing a hand towards his face to wipe his eyes. “did you forget something else?”
“no,” you roll your eyes, dragging your words out slowly. “you know why i really came here.”
“do i?” gojo tilts his head, leaning against the dryer. his towel hung onto his slim waist for dear life. you hated how he was playing coy, he knew the exact words that was about to go past your lips. “help me understand.”
you glare. “you don’t even like your new assistant.”
“woah now, that’s not true,” gojo brings his hands towards his hips. such sassy mannerisms, it made your eyes roll into the very back depths of your head. “for your information, i actually adore april, vivian, eh…whatever her name is.”
you deadpan, and gojo simpers. “…oh,” and his voice pitches a deep low. it makes you feel a bit of tingles in areas you’d rather not disclose. “is this your way of telling me that you miss me? you miss us?”
“obviously you don’t.” you utter, meeting straight eye contact with the popstar. the smile that lingers across his lips, he inches a bit closer towards you and it makes you nervous.
“i never said i didn’t miss you,” gojo snickers.
each inch he creates towards you, gradually closing the inelegant distance between the two of you, he brings a hand up to your face. it catches you by the upmost surprise, and he strokes a thumb against your cheek. “it’s clear you missed me though. can’t last a day without me. maybe you really are my biggest fan.”
the nerve, it made you narrow your eyes and gojo only smiles. “mhm. but fine, maybe i did miss you a little. kinda miss being put in my place if i’m being entirely honest, princess.”
you look up at him, and he’s very much serious from what you can tell. gojo’s thumb stroking against your cheek was so undeniably sensual. you intake a sharp breath, and he’s giving you an intense stare. suddenly, you felt hot and that’s when you come to the hurried realization that you were completely cornered.
you were pinned back against the front door of the dryer, he had you right exactly where he wanted you. “you didn’t have to be such an asshole, though.”
“maybe,” he says, and then you gasp once he leans right into your neck, planting a single kiss near your collarbone. you almost forgot what his touch felt like. if it was anything about gojo, it was that he could never get enough of your taste. “i didn’t mean it. i jus’ wanted to piss you off.”
“satoru—” you’d grumble, yet that’s when he softly cups your chin.
“yeah yeah. scold me later, baby,” he murmurs, and his voice was so raspy. it was as if he was longing to kiss all over you, coat your skin with a plethora of invisible markings. it’s exactly what he does. his touch felt so warm, the same smug grin never leaves his face—oh, how you hated it. although, the more you stared at his perfect lips, the more you wanted to kiss him. “you want a kiss?” he hums, as if he’s nonchalantly reading your mind again. you give him a nod, pressed right up against the cold dryer and his body—gojo swipes a thumb over your lips, inching closer and closer before he pauses. “mhm. i’ll give you a kiss if you tell me pretty please.”
you’re sending him straight daggers. as gojo presses right up against you, he’s so close that the soft fabric of the towel brushes all on your skin. it tickles, and you then feel it push up against you. his bulge, his bulge that stuck out despite having a lengthy towel shielding his pure nudity from underneath his torso. your lips quavered, desperately wanting to feel his own mouth mash against yours. “s-satoru.”
“mhm. for an assistant, ya don’t seem to like followin' instructions,” he whispers right next to your lip. the warmth of his breath wafts right beside your own lips and it makes a small whine fly right out of your mouth. “you missed me so bad. all like this for a kiss, adorable.”
“prettypleaseprettypleasee,” you’d pout, and you don’t even realize you’re pouting until he smiles, pointing it out. gojo gives in within seconds, squeezing your chin and bringing you into a deep passionate kiss.
it started slow like it always did, with that same thumb of his coolly skimming beneath your chin, you part your lips. chaste—the perfect word to describe the kiss, it was a mixture of sloppy and straight lust. gojo had a sweet taste of peppermint on his tongue, you moaned the moment he started to get handsy. a smile curls against his lips once he feels your failed attempt to yank his towel off.
gojo only then reaches down between your legs, past your skirt — pulling up your thigh, he hums right into your mouth once his fingers only feel nothing but soft skin. “ooh,” he briefly pulls away, sneaking a kiss near the inner part of your jaw. “i was right. no panties,” and then he tsks. “how unprofessional.”
“shut up,” you huff, and he lets you remove the towel. gojo’s dampened body collides against yours, and he’s almost grinding against you—you initiate the kiss this time. wrapping both arms over his broad shoulders, your tongue continued to battle for dominance with his. each nanosecond his breathing picked up, casually racing within itself. everything around you felt warm, you felt like you were floating, burning up hot, but floating.
it’s only been a day, perhaps half a day but it felt like years. you didn’t care if this made you appear to be obsessed or whatever. all you knew was that you wanted this stupid popstar.
gojo slips off a whine once he feels you reach for his length, giving him a few concise strokes. “f-fuckin’ damn, i’m a little sensitive from earlier,” and as he breathlessly speaks between kisses, gojo’s the one to grow a bit timid now and he gives you a dazed glance. “heh, don’t look at me like that. it turns me on when you’re angry at me.”
“you’re so weird,” you deadpan, and you shudder even more. feeling a hand over yours wrap around his length. gojo’s nostrils briefly flare up, and as he’s intaking a breath, he tosses the towel to the side. you glance down, staring at his bulge and it makes the popstar a bit…nervous.
“f-fuck,” he’d groan, and that’s the exact moment where out of nowhere—gojo lifts you up. he sits you on top of the lid of the dryer, spreading your legs open. with a big hand, he slowly but surely pries them open, taking a good peak between them. “such a bold girl. comin’ to see me like this,” and he presses his lips towards the inner part of your thigh. you moan, watching gojo then lap out his tongue to lick a long stripe right near the crevice of your leg. “taste just as sweet as i remember.”
“don’t tease me, ‘toru.” you’d whine, feeling him leave sloppy kisses and bites all over your thighs. he ran his tongue up your leg, stopping right once he reached near your slick entrance.
gojo hums, cerulean eyes meeting yours for a second. his gaze was forever attractive, the way his eyes would trail up and down your body. he leans up close towards between your legs, and uses two fingers to spread your folds apart. “don’t tease me ‘toruuuu, she says,” he mocks your whiney delivery, and the popstar briefly laps his tongue against your clit for about three seconds. those three seconds was enough to throw you over the edge. his tongue was so long and pretty — a pretty bright pink, and you stared at it the entire time. “hm. assistants shouldn’t be this soaked.”
“don’t e-eat me out, wait,” you breathe, grabbing a fistful of his perfect whitened strands. gojo looks at you with a pompous grin, just preparing to dig in before you pull his head up. “just fuck me.”
“well excuse me then,” he rolls his eyes, making a fake caught off guard gasp. gojo takes one look at your glistened slit, a tiny pout going against his lips. “but how else am i gonna warm up my vocals, princess?”
“…you can’t warm up your vocals by eating pussy, satoru,” you mutter, not even believing you have to say that…then again, it’s satoru gojo. you shouldn’t even be so surprised anymore. the cute scowl that plastered across his face only widened. he sits up, moving you closer towards him. you sat on the cold lid of the dryer, and you watch as he springs his cock out.
gojo grouses. “oh fineee, be boring. let me starve, whatever,” and he’s so sassy it’s cute, the way his eyebrows curl up into a furrow. his dimples press against both sides of his temples, and you gasp once he aligns himself against your sleek entrance.
“i can’t even be that mad,” he suddenly breathes, a bit of a shakiness nearing his tone. “you’re so wet f’me, damnnn,” and you bite your lip as he starts to sink himself in. his fat tip - it prods against your folds, squeezing itself inside with such ease. “missed her bad,” and he pauses, watching himself disappear inside your cunt. the loud welcoming squelch your cunt made as a response to gojo’s length was music to his ears. your legs felt like mush and he presses a hand down your thigh. “listen to her, how she talks to me all nasty.”
“h-hurry up, satoruuu,” you’d whimper, his dirty talk sending you straight shivers to roam all throughout your body. he’d always speak to your pussy as if it could talk back, one of the many filthy things he’s loved doing with you. you couldn’t wait anymore, you wanted him. one thing about gojo, he loved more than anything to take his time with you.
he wanted to make sure you felt every inch of him. your jaw dropped, feeling how thick he started to stretch you out. spurts of his own pre-cum coating all against your entrance.
he pants, starting to pant before he sinks a bit further inside of you. “uh—! don’t rush me. ‘s rude,” he creates a faux pout, and he briefly pulls out to slap his throbbing plump tip near the very front part of your entrance. he was teasing you so bad, you didn’t even register that you were laid flat on top of the machine, legs sprawled and your jaw nearly hanging. he was so big, such inches to leave you stuffed for many many for days. you hugged his cock much thanks to your walls, and gojo groans. “s-so warm..”
gojo was so hard and pent up, he gnaws on his lip before going in just a bit further. he starts to pant a bit, staring at how good you grip down on him. nice and snug, he brings a thumb towards the top part of your clit, smearing your own slick over your folds before he’s just about half way in. “you take sooo f-fuckin’ long.”
he giggles at the way your words were a bit slurred, your tummy heaved as he was gradually easing himself inside. “thought i told ya not to rush me, princess,” and you moaned once you felt him present you with an abrupt thrust that makes you jolt back—grabbing onto his arm. “mhm. what did i say last time? patience is a virgin, heh.”
“it’s virtue, you idiot.” you whined, your eyes nearly roll back from how good he splits your wetness into two. gojo was long, deliciously lengthy with such fat girth. he wasn’t particularly thick, but he had quite the height on him.
“virgin, virtue, same thing.” the popstar cheeses, and you moaned once he finally starts up a pace.
you had to cling onto his wrists, babbling off all kinds of pathetic whimpers. your sweet whines bounced off the walls—just reverberating across the entire room. you hope no one heard you.
his muscles, way near his ripped abs . . they clench and flex, and it’s so attractive. his body was almost dry, almost. however, he was just a bit damp near his happy trail and past his sharp v-line.
“f-fuckkk,” you’d swallow, barely being able to hold on. it only took a few pre-thrusts for him to figure out his pace and seconds later, you’re being ruthlessly drilled into. his hips, the way they struck into you at a sensual movement had your head spinning. nails of yours claw into his arm and he smiles, making sure to reach every spot.
regarding yesterday, gojo wasn’t necessarily lying. he didn’t mean everything he said, he just likes to talk and talk and talk.
much of that was quite apparent, and he knew you’d come running right back to him. misplacing your panties or not. although, the big question was forever a mystery with him.
…did he love you?
what do you even consider this ‘thing’ you two have? multiple unanswered ignored questions. gojo’s hips were smooth against you, jerking back and forth. he’s got a hand gripping onto your thigh as you’re sat up against the cold lid. you stupidly confessed to him, and he figured you were just saying it to say it.
unprofessional, sure. delusional, maybe…
but you knew you couldn’t be crazy. there had to be at least something between the two of you. the way he kisses you, friends don’t just do that. friends don’t kiss like that.
…is what you kept telling yourself.
his strokes had you losing your mind, sputtering nonsense—gojo watches you, and he leans up close to bring a finger towards your lips. a thumb of his pulls your bottom lip down, and he inches closer before giving you a fervent wet kiss. he ran his tongue against yours, and he was stuffing you so full that your legs merely gave out. “h-harder,” you’d whimper, wrapping your legs around his waist. a smirk tugs on his lips and you spot his dimples poke out through your half-lidded peripherals. that’s when gojo then decided to deepens his hits. “harder, harder, harderrrr..”
“slower, baby yeah?” gojo teases, and he purposely brings his hips to a slowing halt.
the frown that goes against your lips was too cute. the popstar chuckles, his dick twitching inside you. he’s stirring up your insides perfectly before he stops his pace. you whine, scratching at his back this time and he hums. “ohhh. don’t like that? ‘m sorry,” he didn’t mean that apology. not in the slightest. he goes back to playing with hour bottom lip, stroking against it before sliding a finger into your mouth. “such pretty lips, so good for suckin’.”
you moaned, immediately sucking his finger before he adds another. he swabs all around your mouth before you briefly end up gagging.
“forgot how sloppy ya always get for me,” and he’s fucking you so deep, your warmth drives him wild. his base, the way it smacks and thwacks right against your entrance has your mind going in a loop. “get my fingers nice ‘n wet, good girl. coat ‘em real sweet. juuuuust like that, princess.”
his candied words, it had you pulsing.
the moment gojo starts up his vigorous pace again, you’re whimpering. he can never stand still though. one second you’re sat on top of the dryer, the next he drags you towards the cushioned sofa. you crave more of him, his dick reached all the right spot and oh, your maw was dropped.
“s-satoruuu,” you’d huff out, and he’d have you in a subtle mating press now. he’d have you on all fours, but he was a lazy man. he’d prefer to look you dead into your eyes the moment you were reaching your inevitable peak. “so d-deeeep.”
“perfect fit for you,” he murmurs in a husky rasp.
gojo’s balls deep, it’s a tight fit and he’s just ramming right into your dripping cunt. you coat him with so much of your slick, it’s messy.
exactly how he liked it too. you whine, feeling him drive such rough thrusts into you. this position, it was so lewd. the perfect angle to grab you by the chin and shove his tongue down your throat. it’s what he does too, sneaking various kisses near your lips, the very corner of your mouth, anywhere and everywhere.
gojo groans, feeling you start to grip and grasp a bit tighter against him. it’s his turn for his eyes to roll back, and he looks so pretty. your pussy’s got him in a trance. a trance he never wanted to escape out of.
“damn, y-you’re so soakin’ for me. makin’ me jus’ as messy as you, baby,” he pants, and you feel him continuously twitch inside of you. gojo lightly lifts up your leg, and he starts to nibble near your ankle. you whine, feeling yourself approach a nearby orgasm. the thought of leaving a slick mess on his cock made your mouth water.
you needed it.
he slams back into you each time, it gives you whiplash. sweetened murmurs of his name were the only words to leave past your spit-glossed lips, and you moan a drawn out, “t-think ‘m getting close, ‘toru. really close, fuckkk.”
“wait a little, princess,” he slyly remarks, and you feel his hips piston. you were dumbfounded, stupid even. his stamina, practically non existent. right when you think he’s finished he starts up again. you’re dumbly nodding your head in endorsement from the way he’s got you thumping back against the cushion. “wait for meee.” and he starts singing.
he’s mocking you, he strokes your chin before flashing you a teasing grin. it’s not funny anymore once his voice cracks and he clears his throat to play it off. “eheh.”
“i c-can’t,” you’d stammer, and you gasp once you feel a single coil within you snap. you’re an entire mess underneath him. his dick, so lengthy it made you salivate entirely. gojo reached every single orifice inside of your pussy, every edge, every corner. like most people knew the layouts of places, he knew the exact layout of your pussy. every single time. “oh my g-goddd.”
gojo’s jaw tightens, and as you’re being pummeled into the mattress. you end up squirting, gushing out so much.
gojo doesn’t realize it until he looks into your dilated irises, and pauses. “oooooh,” he purrs, his words sounding in the form of a curious question. “did you just squirt?”
silence was your answer, and he just hums. gojo stares down, bringing a thumb towards your swollen slit, massaging against the entrance and you shudder. “fuck. you fuckin’ squirter,” he coos, his voice grows a bit low, a deep deep low. you pulse, making a cute attempt to hide your face but he pulls your hands away. “awwww, baby, baby. don’t hide that face from me. i like my assistants messy anyway.”
you were drenched beneath him, gojo leans in to kiss you.
so sensual yet filled with the most passion. you whimpered, feeling his toned body rock against you. hands of yours roamed down his back, pulling him close and he allows his tongue to part right against yours. he didn’t know what it was about you but he knew for certain that you were addicting.
his taste, it was enchanted with sweetness. minty and all, you allow his tongue to ghost amongst your own — and that’s right when gojo moans into your mouth.
he’s buried deep into you, and he briefly pulls away, a pretty cobweb of glistening spit departs from your lips and he groans. “damnnn, ‘m cumming too,” and it was so abrupt. he didn’t expect it.
once goio’s load came, it was so thick.
stringy, multiple ropes shot inside you to make you permanently feel his warmth. mating press, the most perfect position if not one of the best positions to get stuffed full like this.
“s-shitttt,” he starts to whine, and it was far more then be intended for it to be. you were being pumped full of cum, it takes a lot out of him. quite literally, he pauses his hips and takes a moment.
there, you laid and lingering over you with the most feral look was gojo. his weight briefly lingers over you — and the look he’s giving you, you’re pulsing heavily. he starts heaving and heaving, beads of sweat racing down his and before he blinks. “milkin’ me s-so much,” and then be slowly lifts your leg up, throwing it over his shoulder. “still have more though. wanna see your tummy all plump. spillin’ everything out, just for me to see.”
and he does exactly what he says, gojo even pulls out just to watch his own cum spill out. it makes him pout, and he plugs his dick back inside once he starts up again. you moaned, feeling the stickiness all over your inner thighs. it was his favorite part. watching his own viscid cum run down your plush thighs, only to then shove some of it back into your folds.
the popstar was addicted to you, there was no doubt. sure, he’d be a drama queen and say he’s done with you — but you and him both knew the sheer reality. perhaps gojo shared the same feelings, he just didn’t wanna admit it.
falling in love in the entertainment industry was always a scary thing. especially for gojo. but part of you wanted to change that. if he’d let you.
gojo fucked you through numerous positions.
each one leaving you with teeth-shattering orgasms. it was never ending, it felt so good that you never wanted it to end. it was to the point where sweet cacophonies of, “s-satoruuu,” and “pleaseeee,” rang throughout his ears. only he could make you whimper out the prettiest babbles for him.
he’d have you riding him at this point, and he’s in the midst of dumping another warm load right into you. gojo stares in awe at how your hips grind and move effortlessly against him. he’s got a hand attached to your right hip, and he spanks your ass. “f-fuckkk, keep movin’ like that. make me cum, make me fuckin’ cum.”
and once he came inside you for probably the umpteenth time, you steady your hips, leaning in to give the popstar a kiss near his neck. he moans from your touch, pulling you close to him as your legs felt nearly nonexistent.
“good girl, easy e-easyyy,” he purrs against your ear, and you’re putty within his hands practically. he runs a hand down your back, moving a few strands out of your face before he’s panting right with you. he grows quiet for a moment before swallowing. “damn. that was,” and he’s breaking between each of his words, pulling you right into his bare chest. “. . so hot. you should really get more jealous like this, princess.”
“i wasn’t— i wasn’t jealous,” you huff out, leaning back to stare at him. gojo smirks, his eyes averting towards your lips before back towards your face. “but satoru. you still— you never answered my question from before.”
he raises a brow, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his palm. “hm? what question.”
“…okay,” you intake a breath, feeling as though you had ran an entire marathon. “what does this mean? you um.. never said anything about being exclusive.”
“do you wanna be exclusive?” gojo sneers, cocking his head towards the left.
“i’m being serious.” you mumble, he’s still buried inside you and you shift a bit on his lap.
the popstar rolls his eyes. “girl, so am i,” and he plants a kiss near the corner of your mouth. “the press already thinks we’re dating. especially after seeing us bicker like an old couple in public.”
“so...” you look up at him, returning a kiss near his lip. your eyes basically spoke for you and he understood what you were trying to hint at.
“sooo,” he mimics you, stroking a thumb against your hip.
“if we’re gonna be together, you need to fire that new assistant.” you grouse.
“oh right riiiight,” gojo snickers. “i’ll fire her extra hard just for you, baby.”
you pause with the most noticeable deadpan. “that doesn’t even make sense.”
gojo simpers. “geez, we gotta work on that sense of humor. anything i say is supposed to be funny to you,” and he wraps an arm around you—you feel warm, pulled into his strong warm embrace. “mhm. but now that we’re finally together, i do wanna start off by saying how much i love you.”
“huh?” you croak.
gojo smugly grins, nudging you. “you heard me. i love you,” and he kisses your lips for a split second, only to pull away to watch you fully register what he just said. after what felt like ages, he finally said it back.
“r-really?” you’d softly utter, starting to feel warm all over your body. it was all your mouth could mutter out, your eyes were slightly agape and you couldn’t believe he’d return the same feelings.
“mhmmm,” he nods, stroking your back. gojo brings you into a kiss, and you kiss back, wrapping your arms over his shoulders.
you felt a weight get lifted off your shoulders, and you lean forward towards him, a brief body language sign that you wanted to start up again. his sweet taste had you whining for more, your legs locked over his waist…. and that’s right when he squeezes the right part of your ass. a good firm grip, leaning back for you to take control of him.
“so he loves you, huh.”
you’re interrupted by a low raspy voice, you break away . . . and everything was so quick, a blink of an eye. you’re staring at gojo and his reaction was just as yours was slow. he stares, not at you—but from behind you where apparently a tall broad figure was.
a loud bang rang throughout the room, and gojo choked out a gasp. again, your reaction was slow. for a second, it was like time stopped. you watched in front of you as gojo clenches his heart, a faint breathy gasp for air before he falls backwards. it was the screeching ring of a shot.
you heard what sounded like cocking in the background and you immensely crawl off of gojo’s lap.
“s-satoru?” you stammer, not even believing your eyes—you were far too scared to look behind you, let alone look near your peripherals. gojo grunts, his eyes flickering and you then after seconds later, you end up turning around to see him.
toji.
“hey girl,” he nods, that familiar smug expression never leaving his face, “miss me? i let you have your fun for a while,” toji snickers, blowing the smoke out of the muzzle. as he walks towards you, his footsteps were awfully loud. you froze, glancing down at gojo who had a awfully pale color starting to quickly take over his skin.
words couldn’t leave your lips for whatever reason, it was as if you were mute—lip locked.
you felt numb, entirely so. gojo’d just said he loved you back, and now he looked almost lifeless.
“what do you think would be a better headline? ‘famous popstar found unresponsive at the scene!’ or uh.. ‘popstar 'satoru gojo' gets into a fight with his assistant’s boyfriend and things get a little…messy’.”
“we aren’t even together anymore. fuck you, toji.” you spat, fat incoming tears blinding your vision practically.
“you did that a long time ago, sweetheart,” toji purrs, you could hear the enjoyment in his voice. “and technically, we never broke up,” he corrects you with a shrug. “oh boo hoo, enough with the tears. should be thanking me, really. no one can love you like i can. told ya i’d come back for you,” and then he chuckles behind your ear, a rough hand going on your shoulder. “now let’s go home, princess.”
#★vegasbaby.#popstar!gojo#gojo smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#gojo x you#satoru gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#female reader#anime smut#cw sex mention
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🚕Accidentally Kidnapping a Mafia Boss
*part of the reverse tropes series*
Pairing: MafiaBoss!Max Verstappen x UberDriver!Reader
Genre: Crack/Humor/Fluff?
Summary: Uber seemed like a brilliant plan to get money to buy a new car. However, a mistake has you picking up the wrong passenger. Pretty blue eyes turn dangerous when you notice the gun in his belt.
*this was actually so much fun to write! this is in no way dark whatsoever. it's super funny and the reader is pretty ditzy but it's all in good fun! hope you like it!*
TAG LIST CLOSED
You hummed to whatever tune was playing on your half-broken radio. Most of the lyrics came out as muffled voices, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Because like the radio, your car was almost dead.
Key word being almost.
You had bought the car at the beginning of your high school career and refused to give it up. But, your father had finally convinced you to buy a new one. However, buying a new car was expensive, hence why you were driving around town at 7 p.m. on a Friday night trying to find someone who needed an Uber.
Your family had mentioned how dangerous it was to drive for the “taxi” company, but no one else was hiring at this time.
“It’s an easy way to make bank,” you had told your very confused parents.
Your hand came up and smacked the top of the dash, causing the radio to spam for a moment before finally, clear voices played out. However, your eyebrows furrowed once you could actually listen to the song.
“This is not my playlist,” you muttered while trying to get your Bluetooth to come back on. Once your fingers reached the dials, your phone lit up with an Uber notification.
“Finally.”
You quickly put in the address and drove down the street. Your humming resumed, playlist reaching out through the speaker. You hadn’t even glanced at where the location was, or you would have realized that you were going in the wrong direction.
When you were supposed to be going further into the town, you were headed for the city. The only place your parents refused to let you drive.
It might have to do with the local mafia war that was going on. Something about track limits or whatnot. However, that was not going to stop you from getting paid that night.
You finally came to a stop at the corner of what you thought to be Fifth and Main, like your phone said to stop at. The actual corner was Fourth and Main, but you couldn’t tell because half of the word “fourth” was smudged with some type of brown substance.
Your shoulders raised in a shrug while your gaze landed back on your phone. At least you were supposed to be picking up a nice older looking lady. That’s what your Uber app said anyway. You leaned forward in the driver’s seat, making the entire car squeak. Before you knew it, your fingers had started to tap along to the song that was still playing.
The sound of the door opening and slamming shut caught your attention.
“Drive!” you heard from behind you.
Your entire body turned in the seat as you looked to the back row of your car.
That was not a nice looking old lady.
The man that now resided on the back road had a mean glare as his eyebrows cocked. Sea blue eyes met your own as the man leaned forward and pointed out the window.
“I said drive, let’s go!” the accented voice yelled.
If you had taken a moment to actually look at the man, you would have noticed his roughed up suit, along with the bright red splatters along his white dress shirt. And on his belt line, a gun seemed to be tucked.
But you hadn’t noticed.
“Yes sir!” you cheerfully said, putting the car into drive. A loud boom sounded outside the car, but your radio had decided to turn up full blast, masking the sound. Your car squeaked as it started to move away from the corner and farther along the road.
The man in the back seat seemed agitated, but slowly relaxed the farther away you got on the highway. He had leaned back against the window and rubbed his eyes. You wanted to keep glancing back at him, but you needed to drive. When you noticed that the Uber app had not updated with his next location, you gathered the courage to speak. However, he beat you to it.
“Is this your first time?”
You sheepishly grinned back at him. “Yes, sir. Sorry, is it that noticeable?”
A grunt escaped his lips.
“The damn Get Away Car sticker on the back is not very inconspicuous. You need to get rid of it.”
“Oh! So you don’t like Taylor Swift that much?”
The man glared at you through the rearview mirror, before he shut his eyes. His hand waved at you through the gap between the front seats.
“Just don’t miss the exit.”
“Sir, you’ll need to put in your location first.”
His eyes shot open. “I guess this is your first day. How did you ever get through training?”
You glanced back. “Training? It was all online?”
A huff only answered as he reached for what you hoped was a phone in his pocket.
“I’ll have to let Lando know that online training will not work.”
You let out a nervous giggle, noting that there was no “Lando” in the Uber training video. But, once again, the money promised kept you going down the highway. You kept glancing at your phone, hoping that the guy would just put his address in. Now you were getting annoyed.
“Sir, I really need the address or I’ll have to make you get out.”
A click near your ear made you freeze.
“Who do you think you are? Giving orders to de Leeuw.”
You had definitely picked up the wrong person. You wanted to start explaining yourself, but the gun near your head made the words die out in your throat. You could feel his breath on your ear as he spoke. This would be hot, if you weren’t scared to lose your life.
“Now, you’re going to tell me who you are and why you don’t know where the right exit is. Are you working for Hamilton? Vettel? Alonso?”
You were so caught up in not wanting to die that you missed the car in front of you slamming on your breaks. You were thankful for your fast reflexes as your foot pressed down on the left pedal, making your car lurch to a halt. A thump on the back of your seat had you reeling around to see what had happened to the blond man.
You were surprised to see him now sprawled on the back seats, eyes closed and gun now on the floor. Your hands were shaking as you were now able to take a random exit. When you got to a random parking lot, your head hit the steering wheel.
“I have de Leeuw in my back seat.”
Your breathing started to grow ragged.
“I have de Leeuw in my back seat!”
You were now panicking.
“I HAVE AN FUCKING UNCONSCIOUS MAFIA BOSS IN MY BACK SEAT!”
Charles’s eyebrows furrowed as he watched Max’s tracker come to a stop in a parking lot. The Dutchman was supposed to come back right away after a swift deal with Gasly on the other side of town. But, Charles’s heart had dropped when the car, that Max was supposedly in, turned at an exit too soon. He took off his headset and rolled his chair over a bit.
“Lando, who was picking Max up today after the deal? Was it Carlos?”
The curly-haired Briton spun in his seat to look at his fellow mafia worker.
“Uh, Carlos called in sick. I thought it was Oscar’s turn?”
Something felt weird in Charles’s stomach.
“No, Oscar is on that mission? Daniel was then after Oscar.”
Lando’s eyes widened with fear. “Daniel is out of the country.”
The Monegasque turned back to his computer screen. All vitals for Max were still good, but he had yet to leave the location. His finger pointed and pressed against the screen.
“Then . . . who has Max?”
Back in the parking lot, you had gotten out of the car and were currently rocking back and forth in the fetal position.
“This is not happening. Why did this happen to me? I only needed some money. Why did I get stuck with a mafia boss. I want to live. I need to get back home to my plant and cat.”
Last time you checked, de Leeuw was still out cold. You had taken the gun just in case he woke up in a panic and started to shoot at stuff. That would not end well for you. You grabbed your phone and pushed a button.
“Yes? Hi? Hello, I am calling about what to do if I picked up the wrong passenger. Uh-huh. Yes. I didn’t have his address. Well, no. He’s unconscious. I can’t call the police, he probably owns them. What? Ok. No? The hospital is under the law as well? Yep. I can’t just take him back! No, wait. Don’t hang up. Uhg.”
So much for customer service.
You stuffed your phone back into your pocket. Your feet took you over to your car, and you opened the back seat. The blond man was still looked like he was asleep. Your face got closer to his.
Hm. Up close he was quite handsome. The freckle on his lip really added bonus points. You were so engrossed with the small dot that you missed the twitch of his eyes under his eyelids. When you looked back up, your eyes met blue, which made you shriek and fall back on your butt.
Max was a bit out of it when he was trying to wake up. What he wasn’t expecting was a face to be so close to his when his eyes finally opened. He would laugh if he had the strength as he watched you fall onto the concrete. His hand immediately went to his belt, but his heart dropped when he didn’t feel his gun.
“Looking for this?” you asked, gun outstretched at the man in your back seat. Max’s eyes widened at the gun pointed to his head. It took all of his strength to put his hands up.
“You don’t want to do this,” is the first calm thing that the man said to you. You, however, kept the gun pointed directly at him.
“You’re right, I don’t. But I can’t have you freak out on me and shoot my face. Who would take care of my cat back home? My cousin Lan could, but he kills everything.”
Max registered the slight hitch in your voice. While his hands were still up, he took a moment to look around the parking lot. In the depths of his mind, he was hoping that Lando or at least Charles were on their way to come get him. Yet, his heart rate rose as he saw a few familiar things surrounding him.
He turned back to you. “Ok, you need to listen to me. We are in Rosberg territory right now. And he’s not going to like us on his property. So, you need to give me the gun and get back into the car.”
Your eyes flickered around, and caught some movement to the left and then to the right. You slowly inched the gun down as you walked closer. When you were right in front of the Dutchman, you quickly handed him the gun as you rounded the car to the drivers seat.
Max quickly reloaded the unloaded gun with a smirk on his face. You couldn’t have shot him if you tried. It took a bit for him to do it, but when the magazine fit back in the gun, he was wondering why you hadn’t taken off yet.
“We have to go, now,” he said sternly.
You turned around. “But I need to find a good get-away-song.”
Max could count the pout on your lips as adorable, if it weren’t for the fact that Rosberg’s men were quickly making their way to the car.
“You’re going to have to pick a good funeral song if you don’t hit the gas pedal.”
“Aha!”
The music blared out of the broken speaker as you finally put the car into drive. You heard metal hit metal and prayed that you still could trade your car out for another (even with a few bullet holes).
Max had pressed himself up against the back seat, gun cocked and ready.
“You better not shoot out my back window. I have to trade this car for a new one.”
Max muttered, “You won’t trade anything if you’re dead.”
“I heard that!”
The mafia boss ignored you as he kept watch. When a few cars started to gain, that’s when he leaned back and aimed the gun, firing shots through your back windshield, shattering the glass.
“Do you listen to anyone? Or is my voice just static in your brain?” you asked as you swerved onto the highway. When Max didn’t answer, you huffed. You steadily drove your car down the big roads as Max tried his best to keep the cars at bay.
“How far am I driving?”
Max grunted as he ducked from a bullet. “Just until exit 7. That’s my track.”
You wanted to hit your head on the steering wheel once again. “You’re telling me that if I just kept driving, I wouldn’t be in this situation?”
When he didn’t answer, you swerved a bit to knock him off balance. Your chuckles hit Max’s ear, pissing him off even more.
“And to think, I was going to replace this utter junk if you made it out alive.”
“We’re not done yet mister.”
There was still a bit of road to go, and you were hoping that Max would try to shoot out one of their tyres, instead of trying to shoot at their drivers. He was about reload when he heard a clicking sound. Max really wanted to through himself out the door.
“Is your blinker seriously on right now?”
Your fully turned around to glare.
“Yes.”
You jerked the wheel as you got onto exit 7, making the cars behind slowly back away and continue on the highway. You wiggled in your seat as you did a little celebration. When some familiar houses came into sight, you gasped.
“My cousin lives around here!”
Max was out of breath as he was flabbergasted by your upbeat spirit. “Cousin?”
“Yeah! He has this like high tech job and stuff. I come over to swim in the summer.”
He had no words as you pulled up to a familiar house. You scrambled out the door and fell face flat on the asphalt.
“Sweet mother, thank you, thank you.”
You could kiss the ground, but that would be super unsanitary. When the garage creaked, you quickly got up and scrambled behind Max, who raised his gun out of instinct. However, he wanted to laugh when he saw his two best friends in full oversized gear.
The two friends froze at the sight of their boss and, well, Lando’s cousin.
“Y/n?” the Briton questioned, pulling the visor on the oversized helmet up.
Your sprung in your place.
“Lando!”
“Max?”
“Charles?”
Lando squinted at you.
“Y/n?”
A nervous giggle escaped your lips.
“Lando?”
The curly-haired man rushed at you, making you dodge around Max. Which, that resulted in Lando chasing you around the yard.
“You kidnapped my friend?”
“Why are you friends with de Leeuw and apparently Il Predestinato? I’m telling Aunt Cisca!”
“Not if I tell your mum that you Ubered in the city!”
Max and Charles watched as the two of you ran after each other, hurling insults and threats. The two jumped when they heard a loud creak behind them and then a crash. When they looked, your car was down to the ground, wheels askew.
“My car! De Leeuw, you’re paying for that!”
uber_y/n has posted
uber_y/n new baby from my new baby 🖤
liked by bestie, land0, max_v, and 204 others
bestie um excuse me ma'am 🤨 what happened to bessie? 😭
uber_y/n someone (not saying any names [max] ) SHATTERED HER BACK WINDOW
max_v I hope you like bessie 2.0 schatje
uber_y/n I dooooooo(not)
max_v woman 🙄
land0 you just had to go for my cousin 😐😑😐
uber_y/n he was very charismatic, unlike you noRIZZ 🫵💀
sharl_lec pls, for the love of everything good in this world, quit uber
uber_y/n NOPE on my way to pick up someone named...lewis?
max_v oh no
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#reverse trope#kidnapped a mafia boss#uber driver reader#f1 x driver!reader#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1 x you#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#Max Verstappen fluff#crack fic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x y/n#formula 1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x female reader#f1 x you#lando norris#Charles leclerc#terrible dutch translation
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I LOVE YOUR CHARLES FICS ESPECIALLY THE RUBY ONES OMG! This might sound strange, but could you write one where Y/N gets tired of the paparazzi and tries to physically fight a reporter? Kinda like the björk reporter incident in the 90’s. I wanna hear Charles and ruby’s reactions!
that’s my wife! | charles leclerc
charles: you know the only reason i got married was so i could yell that’s my wife whenever i wanted?
also i made it SLIGHTLY different so instead of fighting the paparazzi, mama leclerc throws hands with toxic f1 fanboys 😍
Y/n always hated paparazzi, it was no surprise. She knew from the start of her relationship with Charles that she would be photographed whenever they stepped out. She knew what she was getting herself into when she started dating Charles and she tried to ignore it. It worked for a couple years and then Ruby and Mathéo came along. Being a mother changed Y/n. She was more protective of her children and husband.
When she wasn’t in the paddock, she was back home in Monaco with the kids and Pascale. The wag pages updated on where she was and some fans would try to find her.
During the week that Charles was away, Y/n was out with the kids in sunny Monaco. Ruby needed new school supplies and Y/n needed to buy Mathéo new clothes so she took both of her kids to the store. Charles has told her many times to at least have someone with her when she went out, but Y/n didn’t think it was necessary.
“Maman! Can I have this one?” Ruby pointed to a pink backpack that was on a window display.
“You already have a backpack, my love, we are only buying items we need like journals and books for you and new clothes for Théo, okay? And maybe we’ll get ice cream after. How does that sound?” Y/n asked the little girl, who seemed bummed that she wasn’t getting the pretty pink backpack she saw, but cheered up when her maman mentioned ice cream.
Ruby held onto the stroller as the family of three walked the sidewalk to the nearest store that sold school supplies. That’s when Ruby noticed a man pointing his phone at them. She wondered why and asked her maman.
“Let’s go inside, quickly.” Y/n told Ruby as they finally made it to the store.
“Why is he staring?” Ruby stared back at the man and even stuck out her tongue at him when he wouldn’t stop recording.
“Don’t pay attention, Ruby Jules. Let’s go.” Y/n grabbed Ruby’s hand.
“I don’t like him, maman.” Ruby whispered.
“I don’t either,” Y/n sighed as she started her shopping. But the man, who was still recording, decided to make her day worse.
“Tell Charles that Max is the better driver!” He was clearly trying to get a reaction out of her. “Fuck Ferrari!”
And suddenly, Y/n had so much anger built up in her that it made her snatch the phone from the man’s hands and throw it as far as possible. It practically landed on the other side of the shop.
“What the fuck!”
“Don’t ever disrespect my husband like that. Have the day you deserve, shithead.” Y/n turned the stroller holding a sleeping Mathéo and grabbed Ruby’s hand. “Fuck you.” She pushed past the man as she exited the shop.
As the mom had her back turned, Ruby stuck her tongue out again at the stranger.
“And then maman said a bad word and we left! But the phone flew so far and the man looked like he was going to cry!” Ruby said enthusiastically into the phone. Charles was still gone, but news spread of the incident in the shop. Most people were defending Y/n’s actions since the man was clearly harassing the family.
“Really? So maman almost made a grown man cry, that’s my wife!” Charles laughed. Before talking with Ruby on the phone, he had gotten the full story from his wife.
“That’s my maman!” Ruby yelled.
#inbox <3#anon#formula 1#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#f1 imagine#f1 x you#charles leclerc#charles leclerc x reader#baby leclerc series#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc imagine
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when gojo falls in love - gojo satoru
gojo satoru x fem. reader
Summary: She fell first, but he fell harder.
It was hard not to fall in love with Gojo Satoru. He was a ray of sunshine, always lifting the mood in every room, radiating the friendliest, kindest aura you have ever witnessed. His youthful, laid-back personality complemented his intelligence and wit, always having a funny comeback to Suguru's constant teasing.
He seemed so unapproachable to you, the Strongest, the Honored One, the Heir of the Gojo Clan, the Wielder of the Six Eyes, and Master of the Limitless. Those were the titles he was referred to in your crazy world, someone who was to be praised for the immense power he wielded and the enemies he had eliminated. However, you saw Satoru in a different light, finding other reasons to praise him. The gentleness he would befriend a stray cat with, the way he politely bows at the cashier at his favorite bakery, or the fact that he makes soup for everyone after a night out to cure your hangovers. He buys a bouquet of tulips for every girl and woman on Jujutsu Tech's campus, without exception, on International Women's Day. He remembers the lunch lady's son's birthday and gives her the remote-control car the young boy so desperately wanted because he knew Watanabe-sama, as he refers to her, could never afford it. He sits down to play chess with the elderly man in front of the convenience store every day because he knows he lost his opponent for the last 40 years not too long ago.
It is easy to fall in love with Gojo Satoru, however, it is hard for Gojo Satoru to fall in love. Or at least, that's what he thinks. At first, when you join them, he doesn't give much thought to it. He's pleased that there is another girl added to the group, so he and Suguru don't have to listen to Shoko's constant whining about them being gross anymore. He also relishes in the attention you give him, because he knows you're quite infatuated with him, like most of the girls are.
However, as time passes, he realizes that your kindness makes a red hue run across his pale cheeks. Every time he does the smallest things, you praise him for it. Others don't compliment him on his politeness, something he prides himself on because his mother taught him to act this way - the only person who loved him for him so far. Other people praise him for his technique, his unique eyes, and his otherworldly good looks. You're the only one who notices the small things he does and that warms his fragile heart. So he asks you out on a date.
He doesn't give it much thought, just a walk in the park full of cherry blossoms and ice cream. However, he swoons at the fact that you seem like this is the best date you have ever been on, you thank him repeatedly for paying for your ice cream and offer him the Kit Kat chunk the guy stuck into your dessert as an attempt to flirt with you, because you know Satoru loves Kit Kats, they're his favorite candy bar.
Gojo Satoru reaches one important conclusion that night, after walking you to your dorm room. You are, in fact, very easy to fall in love with.
Instead of fighting it, he lets this new feeling flourish. He starts putting in an insane amount of effort, he pays attention to the small things, he drinks up every word that you speak, he takes notes on his phone because he wants to walk the extra mile for you. His new goal in life becomes making you, the first girl who looks past the titles and likes him for him, happy. His enthusiasm in doing so never falters, even after years together or after marriage.
"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asks you as his extremely perceptive eyes take in your slumped shoulders, the dark circles under your eyes and the slight frown that replaces the pretty smile he fell in love with.
"Long day, baby, long day." you sigh and he is quick on his feet, he embraces you, leaving a loving kiss on the crown of your head.
"Change your wizarding clothes, pretty girl, I'll run you a bath. How does that sound, huh?"
"Amazing, Satoru. Thank you!" you respond, smiling tiredly, leaving a kiss on his glossy lips.
"Everything for you."
Not only does he prepare a bath, but he also lights some candles, drops some lavender-infused salts in the water, and prepares some fruits and your book as well. While you relax your body in the water which is the perfect temperature, he makes your favorite meal for dinner and starts up the fireplace so that the two of you can cuddle up on the couch.
After dinner he holds you close, absentmindedly running his hands over your back, in your hair, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, small confessions that make you feel a lot better about yourself. Satoru would like to think that he is perfect at everything, but there's only one thing he takes pride in the most: learning how to make you feel better over the years. He always knows what to do, regardless of the reason why you're down. He knows how to pick you up.
"Toru?" he hears your voice, calling him by his favorite nickname. It makes him blush every time you call him that and he swears his heart picks up too.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"Don't you ever get tired of taking care of me?"
"How could you say that?" he asks as he sits up, glaring at you with offended eyes "Of course not, baby. You're my everything, I could never get tired of making you feel good, love. It is also my duty as your lover to ensure your happiness. It's in my contract and everything." he makes you smile fondly, adoring his way of phrasing these things. Because even the hardest of conversations are pleasant when Satoru is there to put things so stupidly.
"Oh yeah? What else is in this contract of yours?"
"That I have to kiss you all the time. And - and that I will have to get you a cat at one point because I know you want one. I have to feed you when you're hungry and I have to do the laundry when you get home late. Oh, and most importantly I always have to split my desserts with you. Only you, not even Suguru gets to do splitsies."
"I see. And what is in my contract?"
"Nothing. You already honored yours." he says curtly and you look at him with confusion.
"How?"
"Well, the only thing in your contract was that you have to be my lover. Nothing else. I'm the one doing the heavy lifting here, every day I get to spend as your significant other is a good day for me. You don't have to do anything else to make me happy." he explains.
You look him in the eyes, your irises filled with nothing but adoration towards the man in front of you. It is so easy to be in love with Gojo Satoru, because he is a gentleman in a world of boys.
#jujutsu kaisen#satoru gojo#gojo satoru#jjk imagines#gojo imagine#jjk x reader#gojo fluff#jjk x you#gojou satoru x you#dad gojo#jjk imganie#satoru imagine#satoru gojo fluff#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#Ren Writes - Gojo ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚
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…. So Mister(s) steal your girl, huh?
Content:
Unhappy Relationship, (Brief) Gaslighting, Sad Reader
Bombshells, you always thought, were supposed to making a whistling sound before landing. A high pitched warning of impending doom. Too late to escape the incoming devastation, but at least it wouldn’t come out of nowhere. There’d be some time to brace, for all the good it would do.
Maybe you watched too many movies.
Three months. That’s how long you got to enjoy the bliss of engagement before the world began to fall around you.
Your fiance came home and sat you down, his hand around yours. You thought he was breaking it off for some reason. What he did instead was worse.
In the aftermath you can only remember snippets of the one-sided conversation. Like tinnitus, an awful running in your ears left over from a dropped bomb.
Things like,
Still young, I want to explore…
How will I know you’re my forever unless I know what’s out there?
Last bit of freedom before being tied down…
If you love me and our relationship…
You love your fiance and your relationship. You don’t want to lose it just because you’re selfish. He’s still coming home to you, after all. You’re the one with the ring and all the plans for the future. So what if he wants to… explore? He’s even offering the same to you.
An open relationship, he calls it, like it’s some innovative idea.
You’ve heard of them before, never had much interest. Still don’t, honestly, but it was that or the desolution of 4 years.
You insisted on a long engagement. Your fiance promises that you two can revisit the open relationship when you’re married.
Within a week of agreeing, he’s leaves for the weekend. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going, who he’s meeting. He comes back Sunday evening smelling like someone else’s perfume with a hickey on his collarbone. When you refuse any advances, he sighs and says he “understands that this is a transition” and goes to shower.
It’s like that for six months. Weekends without him. Sometimes sending him off Friday morning and not seeing him until Monday evening. Lipstick on his collars, strange perfume invading the laundry. You start doing his clothes separately.
Six months. You spend months suffering in silence, sniffling through Saturdays and drifting through Sundays. Adjusting meal plans to cook for one.
The last straw is when you try to make plans on a holiday. You and your fiance haven’t done on a proper date in months. You want to go out, have all his attention on you, not shared with his phone.
“Ooh, sorry dear, I’ve already got plans with Malorie. Rain check, yeah? We’ll do something next week.”
You decide to go out anyway, sick of feeling sorry for yourself. Nothing fancy, just a bit of self care. You buy yourself a cute new outfit, put on a bit more makeup than usual, do your hair. Find an interesting little late night book shop. They serve wine and food and have comfy booths for people to read or talk or play board games.
The perfect place to be out but alone.
You’re debating the merits of a romance novel when a voice comes from your left.
“Love that one.”
You blink, glance up. Find a handsome man with eyes simultaneously so dark and so warm. Coals, you think. There’s a cheeky little quirk to his mouth as he nods at the novel.
“It’s good if you like will-they, won’t-they.”
You hum. “I’m more in the market for something… easier? If that makes sense.”
He hums, gives you a solemn look. “It does. Here, you might like this then.”
He plucks a book off the shelf and offers it for inspection. You feel awkward reading it the summary thoroughly, especially when you can feel his eyes on you. But you skim it, it looks promising, and a hot guy just suggested it, so…
“Read a lot of romance?” you ask curiously.
He ducks his head a bit, endearingly shy. “A bit, yeah. Call me hopeless.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, but can’t help saying. “I think it’s just romantic.”
His eyes light up. “Yeah? And what kind of books d’you usually like?”
Before you know it, you’re talking thrillers and horror novels with him. Recommending your favorite spooky novel and then following up that you always read a comedy afterwards as a palette cleanser.
You end up touring each other around the shop, talking books and authors and genres. Yet you’re somehow surprised when he asks if you’d like to sit with him. But you agree, a little thrill in your stomach that you haven’t felt since… a while.
You each buy a stack of books, then claim a booth and proceed to read none of them. He tells you his name is Kyle, that he’s in the military but on leave right now, stocking up on entertainment for flights or long spans of hurrying up and waiting.
You’ve never met a military guy before, and you trip over your curiosity. Trying not to pry but interested in what he does. He’s polite and patient, admitting there are a lot of things he can’t tell you but he’ll answer. You don’t stay on the subject long, figuring the last thing he wants to talk about it work.
He gets you back in the department of uncomfortable topics when he notices the ring on your finger. You’re quick to explain the situation, hot with shame all over again, eyes stinging despite yourself.
Instead of mocking you or just getting up and walking away, Kyle sits back looking flabbergasted.
“That’s fucking mental,” he says, “excuse me for saying.”
You burst into laughter. Haven’t told anyone any of this out of embarrassment, but hearing someone on your side is… good.
“I thought so too, but… he’s happy,” you admit.
Kyle frowns. “What about you?”
You blink, can’t look him in the eye. You know the answer but make a show of thinking about it.
“I’d… like to be again. This — the open relationship thing — seems to be working for him. So… maybe it’ll work for me too?” You shrug. “Worth a try.”
Kyle reaches across the table, a big warm hand enveloping yours. There are callouses you’re not expecting. Tantalizingly different.
“Would you like to try it with me?” he asks. “Don’t have to put a label on it or anything. But my schedule is a bit… it’s hard to keep up a traditional relationship, you know? But I like you, and I think your fiance is a knob.”
You snort, but flip your hand around, thumb brushing over his.
“Yeah…” you muse, and after saying it, a surge of confidence infuses you. “Yeah, I’d like to try this with you.”
His smile is absolutely brilliant. You won’t admit — not even to yourself for a long time — but you fall in love a little right then and there.
#thoughts™️#cod#my writing#fanfiction#reader fic#misters steal your girl#poly 141#open relationship trope#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz x reader
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Something you paid for
Fernando Alonso x Reader
Summary: Two years into the best relationship of your life, you find out that Fernando thinks you don't love him. But it get worse and you realize the whole world think of you as gold digger.
Word count: 5.7k
Tags: female!reader, established relationship, slut shaming, reader is confused, fernando is even more confused, miscommunication, cursing, a bit angsty, hurt/comfort, soft smut (almost not there), happy ending, not beta read
Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader
Note: I'm honestly not 100% sure about this story, a had another ending planned but I wanted it to be HEA. I don't know. :(
I'm sorry if it's rushed or full of mistakes. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx
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It was supposed to be just a pause in your studies. Something quick since your brain was already mushy from studying and writing your research for too long.
So when you picked up your phone, to aimlessly scroll through social media, you didn’t expect to see a new, sudden rush of comments on your instagram page. There were thousands of comments in your last post, calling you a gold digger, and much, much worse. Ever since you started dating Fernando, you had been getting these comments, and in the beginning they were worse but slowed down with time. Now they were on a new high again. Confused more than anything, you went on to try and find out what happened for this to happen all of a sudden. You and Fernando hadn’t gone out together for more than two weeks and you hadn’t been to a race week for a month.
After digging you eventually found out what happened. Deuxmoi posted something that made everyone quickly think it was you.
A lady who’s 12 years younger than her famous Spanish Formula One driver boyfriend, is known for being with him for his money. Many tried to warn him, but it seems like he doesn’t believe or doesn’t care.
Confused, you stared at the post, scrolling through hundreds of nasty, poisonous comments. That wasn’t true. Fernando did give you lots of presents and spoiled you a lot but he did this out of his own want, not because you asked for or demanded it. He was constantly giving you things, especially clothes, shoes and bags, and loved seeing you wearing them. He also gave you an Aston Martin car on your last birthday. He even went as far as getting you a credit card attached to his, for whenever you needed to buy books or go on a shopping spree. You never minded it because you knew he liked it, instead of refusing you were just grateful for his generosity.
You wondered if you should talk about it with him, but deep down you knew Fernando was never one to care for gossip of any kind. And this probably wasn’t even true to begin with, just someone trying to stir the pot. So you just limited the comments in your posts and went on about your day.
A week later you went to the race, it was Silverstone, and the last before summer break. You decided to dress your best, wearing clothes that were pretty and elegant and had been given to you by Fernando.
He always treated you like a princess, he was kind and patient, and always found a way to align your schedules to spend time together. He liked taking you on trips during summer break and to ski trips during winter break. Fernando adored having you around in race weeks, you could see in his face that he was radiant with your presence. And you loved all the gifts and the trips but you especially loved staying home with him, lazing around, making love on the sofa and taking walks hand in hand in his hometown. You loved helping him cook, trying your best to follow his orders and not mess up his recipes.
You walked into the paddock hand in hand, and you kept him company whenever you could. He would keep you around the most, only letting you go when he had meetings or media duties. During that time, you would go back to his room and do a little more of your research, writing your thesis.
You left his room so you could grab a snack and a coffee at the hospitality, but as you passed by a hallway, you heard someone saying your name in conversation. You stopped, leaning against the wall to hear, with a glance, you saw two mechanics talking.
“Seems like everyone tried to warn him, man. But it’s like he doesn’t mind dating a gold digger.”
“Is she a gold digger, really?”
“Man, she doesn’t do anything! She doesn't even work.”
“Has anyone warned Fernando?”
“Everyone.”
You went back inside his driver’s room, sitting down, completely shocked. So that’s what people thought of you? You knew people on the internet talked about it, but they were strangers so you wouldn’t allow yourself to mind because those people didn’t know you. But the people in the garage? They’ve known you for almost two years now, you were always kind and polite to them, even going as far as bringing them cookies and donuts as thank you for welcoming you so well.
You avoided crying, it would ruin your makeup, and Fernando would notice it very quickly. So you just sat there, numb. Thinking about how everyone believed you were with Fernando because of his money and nothing else.
When Fernando found you again, before he had to go get ready for the race, he noticed you were a little down.
“You should not study so hard on the weekends, princesa.” He muttered, hugging you from behind and leaving a gentle kiss to your neck. Of course, he would think you were just tired.
“You are absolutely right, mi amor,” you smiled a little, turning around so you could hug him properly, “do you have time for a little kiss?”
“Even two,” he joked.
You ended up sitting on his lap, making out like two teenagers, until someone knocked on the door, calling Fernando to go get ready.
“Hey, good luck, yeah?” You said, kissing him one more time then kissing the back of his hand, “I love you.”
You watched the race from the garage, feeling self conscious now that it seemed like everyone thought you were leeching off of Fernando.
In the end, Fernando got P3 which was a great result and you celebrated wildly, proudly watching him get on the podium.
After his post race meetings, you met him in his room.
“Let’s go out to celebrate! Dinner is on me!” You hugged him, mood better now than before.
You and him ended up going out for dinner, at a high end restaurant, dressed to the nines. It was fun, you listened to Fernando talking about the race, then he asked you what you thought about the race.
Before dessert, you went into the bathroom to retouch your makeup and freshen up. When you came back, your tiramisu was already there. You and Fernando shared the dessert, laughing to each other.
When the waitress came, you picked the opportunity.
“Dear, can we get the tab please?”
“It’s already taken care of, Madam.”
Your smile faltered, and you looked at Fernando as she left. He was smiling like he couldn’t hold it in.
“Fernando! I said dinner was on me!”
“Why would I let you pay, princesa?”
“Because you got a podium today! As a celebration!” You whined, upset. Fernando pulled your chair, until you were right beside him and he kissed your cheek.
“I like paying for you, Hermosa,” Fernando stood up, offering you a hand, “come on, you can treat me right in our hotel room, what about that?”
You smiled as he pulled you away, but something still nagged at your brain.
You and Fernando took the private plane back to Madrid after the date, because he had sponsor meetings over the week, and you honestly wanted to sleep in your bed. The trip was quick, and while Fernando took a nap, you tried studying, but your mind kept going back to being called a gold digger.
Deep down, you really wanted to talk to Fernando about it, but you were unsure if he could fix this in any way. What could he do? Make a post on instagram saying hey, my girlfriend isn’t leeching off of me as most you think!? You did live with Fernando, for six months now, and he paid all the bills and the house was his. But he also gave you many many gifts.
When you got home, putting your bags inside the closet, you two just changed into sleepwear, ready to doze off.
Then Fernando opened his bag and grabbed a small box.
“Oh, I had forgotten! Got you a present last week in Austria!”
He handed you the box, and with your heart beating fast, you opened it to a beautiful vintage watch. It was gold, delicate with a beautiful bracelet. There was a lump in your throat as you stared at the piece.
“You didn’t like it? It’s ok, princesa, I’ll get you another one,” he said, with a gentle smile.
“I don’t need another watch, Nando. You gave me this one not even a month ago,” you raised your wrist, showing him the brand new one he gave you.
“I want to give it to you. It doesn’t matter,” he shrugged.
“And I don’t want it,” god, you didn’t want to sound so ungrateful, but how could you tell him that his presents felt like something else now? “You have to stop giving me so many presents,” you said, trying to put into words what you were feeling.
“But that’s how I won you over, why would you refuse my presents now?”
Something about the nonchalance in his voice made you stop, stomach dropping. That’s how I won you over? That’s how he believed your relationship came to be? That’s why he thought you were together?
“What did you say?” You paused, suddenly turning to him, it felt like a punch to the throat, “You- you believe I’m a gold digger? You believe it?”
Fernando walked up to you, putting both hands on your waist, a soft smile gracing his face.
“Amor, you know I don’t mind spending my money on you. Quite the opposite, I love to spoil you.”
You stood there, speechless for a couple of seconds. Then you snapped out of it, pushing his hands off you.
“That’s not what I asked!” Your voice sounded louder, you tried to regain your composure, “people talk a lot, the press too, but you know the truth, right?!”
“I’m a rich man, I like providing you with the luxurious lifestyle you lead. I don’t care that you enjoy my money.”
His words made it so much worse. It made you nauseous, the idea that all this time, he’s been thinking of you as a gold digger, as someone who’s only with him for his money and for what he could provide for you.
“No, Fernando- no!” Your voice wavered, “that’s not true! I love you, you know that right?”
“Why are you so caught up in some silly rumor?
“You know right? You know I love you.” You pressed further waiting for an answer. Hoping against hope that he knew it deep down, that he could acknowledge that you harbored love for him.
“Amor, we have such a great dynamic like this. I don’t need your love, just your loyalty and for you to be my pretty girl.”
He was so calm and reassuring, like he had made peace with the fact that you didn’t love him. Like he wasn’t bothered at all by the fact that you were supposedly a gold digger. His dismissal broke something inside you.
“So you don’t- you don’t believe I love you?”
You felt pathetic and helpless, repeating the same words again and again, hoping and praying for a different answer from Fernando.
“Come on, I’m really tired, can we go to sleep?
“Fernando.”
“I’m going to wait for you in bed,” was all he said, dismissing you completely.
You walked out of the room at the same time he went into the bathroom, you held your head up until you softly closed the door behind you, then finally the tears spilled. You went to the bathroom downstairs, the farthest you could go away from him as the sobs broke from your throat violently.
Sliding down on the floor you wondered if everything was lie. You knew it wasn’t but the fact that he thought you were only there for the money was completely wrong. How long had he been thinking that? How many times had he heard you say “I love you” and thought it wasn’t true? You didn’t even know what to do or what to feel. How could you feel if this whole time while you were pouring your heart into this relationship he thought you were just leeching off of him? How can you love someone so deeply and still live with the fact they think of you as a freeloader? Did he joke with his friends like yeah, she’s a gold digger but at least she’s loyal and fucks me well?
Your chest hurt and you felt repulsive, making your way to the living room, opening a bottle of his whiskey, not bothering with a glass, just sipping it straight from the bottle.
What could you do now? Talk to him? Tell him you’re not with him for his money? After two whole years accepting his every gift with open arms? After getting a fortune worth of presents? After letting him pay for your books, textbooks, new laptop? After letting him pay for dates, trips, clothes, accessories, shoes and jewelry?
You hated yourself for it now. For taking it just because you thought it was his love language, not because deep down he was trying to keep you, buying your affection.
After spending the whole night awake, nursing a bottle and with only your repulsive thoughts as company, you watched as the sun rose from the big living room window.
It was time to fix it.
Fernando was an early riser almost every morning, so after the sun fully rose in the sky, you went in the kitchen and prepared coffee, to cut the effect of the alcohol. You weren’t drunk, really.
“Morning, bebé! You woke up earlier than me today?” He said, passing you with a kiss to your cheek, then going to the cabinet for a mug. He was so unbothered by your argument last night it was pissing you off.
“I didn’t sleep.”
He paused, looking at your face.
“We should talk.” You readied yourself. Fernando stopped in front of you, attentive. “I’ve been hearing a lot this past week that I’m a gold digger, this has been making me feel some kind of way, and I wanted to address this with you. Last night you were tired and we probably misunderstood each other…”
“Where are you going with this, corazón?” He asked, confused.
“I’m not with you for your money, Fernando. Do you understand that?”
He stood silent, which only made you feel worse.
“I want you to stop giving me presents without a proper occasion. And I want you to stop paying stuff for me. And we’re going to share house bills.” You laid it all out, after thinking hard all throughout the night.
“What are you talking about? No, I don’t accept it.” He frowned, “that wasn’t the deal when we moved in together.”
“Because I didn’t know everything back then. I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you, and I don’t live at your cost like this.”
“No, Y/N.” He took a step back, shaking his head as if you had said the most stupid thing he had ever heard.
“I’m serious, Fernando.”
“No, I’m not negotiating this. I pay for everything. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it will be.”
“I just want to show you that I’m not with you for the money! I’m not what they’re calling me! No more presents, Fernando.”
“You took them.”
“Because I thought you wanted me to have them!”
“I wanted you to have them so you would want to stay with me!”
You gasped, hearing it from his mouth finally. The tears finally started flowing, and you swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady even with the tempest happening inside your chest, staining the beautiful story of your relationship. Well, what you thought was a beautiful relationship.
“You’re just like them, right?” You said, defeated, “you think of me as a gold digging whore. You probably never defended me when they called me that.”
“I gave you all this stuff because I didn’t want you to leave!”
“It was never about the fucking money! And guess what? You lost me anyway!” You marched to the bedroom, Fernando hot on your heels.
“Don’t. Don’t leave.” He said, following you. “I did everything for you to never leave!”
“Everything but loving me! I don’t fucking care!” You unlatched your necklace, putting it on the table, “I don’t care about your money and the jewelry and the clothes and the bags!” You put down your watch and earrings too. Everything he had given you not because he wanted you or loved you, but because he thought they were the price to pay to keep you around.
“Fuck, I love you!” You shouted, feeling desperate and lost, “And all you see me as is something you paid for. A toy you can parade around and look pretty in your arm! You don’t even love me, Fernando. I could write a list about everything I love about you, and none of it would be your stupid money!”
In the closet, you picked a bag, and started putting your clothes inside. Then you noticed how most of them were gifts from him. So you put it back, taking only what you had bought yourself. Fernando stood there, helpless as you packed, putting clothes and a few shoes in a couple of baggage. You also took your study material and laptop, which he had gifted you, but you knew you’d refund him.
“Stop, no,” Fernando tried to stop you as went into the garage, “I do, I love you.”
“You don’t, Fernando. You’re not even sure of that.” You shook your head, putting the bags inside the car. The Aston Martin he had given you, “you have to think. If you really love me as you say, then why do you love me? Because I’m eye candy you can take to galas? Because I’m a good fuck? Because I stand there and look pretty when you have to kiss those old men’s asses?”
You didn’t give him a second, getting in the car and starting the engine.
“This is so messed up, oh my god, how could I let myself believe this for two entire years?” You whispered to yourself, accelerating the car and driving off.
Through the rear view, you could see Fernando standing there, doing nothing.
You drove and wiped the tears away, breathing in. When you moved in with Fernando, you hadn’t been able to get out of the lease of your flat because you still had a few months on your renting contract. Now it felt like luck that you had a place to stay. Despite getting your doctorate degree, you didn’t have any friends in the city, only a few acquaintances here and there.
You got to the apartament, not bothering to unpack your bags, only leaving it on the bedroom floor. You took your study material and with your phone in hand, you sent Fernando via transfer a total 4000 euros, for what you hoped covered the “laptop and books expenses” as you wrote in the little note.
Then you laid on the bed, crying yourself to sleep.
You woke up and it was getting dark, the sun setting outside. Checking your phone, there were fourteen missed calls from Fernando, and a notification, showing that he had returned the money to you, with additional 30000 euros and only “no” written on the little note. Huffing, you sent the whole amount back and blocked him, so he couldn’t transfer any more money to you.
He still had not realized what was wrong, he was still thinking money was your motivation.
The next few days felt like a haze, you were barely getting any sleep, only eating and writing your research, which ultimately reminded you of Fernando, since it was a study on aerodynamics. You couldn’t lie to yourself, thinking of how many times you stared at the door, waiting and hoping he would understand and come after you.
-
Fernando had work commitments in England, and going back to Madrid, he ended up giving George and his girlfriend a lift. Fernando was visibly not himself as soon as George saw him.
“How’s Y/N doing?” George asked, casually. But from the way Fernando’s face dropped, he could tell something was wrong, “trouble with the missus?” He joked, tried to lighten the mood.
“She- uh, she left.” Fernando muttered.
“What do you mean, she left?” Carmen joined the conversation, “She’s traveling?”
“No- no- I guess we broke up.”
“You guess?!” George’s voice went a little high pitched out of nervousness.
“Fernando, what happened?” Carmen tried to understand.
Despite not being exactly best friends, you and her were pretty close, always spending time together whenever both of you were on race weekends. The fact that you’re both engaged academics was also a common topic between you.
“You know about the rumors, right?” Fernando started, hesitating.
“What rumors?” George paused.
“That she’s only with me for the money,” Fernando muttered.
“All girlfriends of drivers are accused of that at some point, what’s new?” George pushed.
“I might have implied that I agree with that.”
“Oh, my god,” Carmen covered her mouth, absolutely shocked, “What?”
“Fernando, respectfully- Are you fucking insane?!” George exclaimed, jaw slack, “she looks at you all lovey-dovey, like- like- you’re the only person in the entire earth and you think she’s with you for the money?”
“She would never be like that! She’s so smart and kind,” Carmen added.
“I know- I just- I don’t know! Maybe I let the rumors get to my head!” he ran both hands over his face, exasperated, “And she always lets me pay, and she always takes the presents, I don’t know!”
Then, Fernando explained about how you tried to pay for dinner, and you refused his gift, he told them about the argument and how you wanted to set boundaries about money and gifts.
“She was trying to prove to you that she’s not a freeloader. She was trying to show that the money didn’t matter, and what did you do? You pushed more money on her!” George practically spat the words in Fernando’s face.
“Eres muy estúpido, Fernando. Te lo digo como tu amiga.” Carmen muttered.
“I don’t know what she said but I heard the word stupid, and I agree.” George backed her up, “Go talk to her, apologize and fix it.”
“That is,” Carmen interrupted, face serious, “If you really love her. Otherwise, better let her go find someone who can really love her, it’s what she deserves. Love and happiness.”
Fernando swallowed, his chest constricting with the mere thought of you moving on, of someone else having you in their arms.
Getting back home without you there felt like a thick fog day, cold and empty and he missed you, he missed his sun. He missed you jumping into his arms as soon as he opened the door. He missed the smell of the candles you always lit while studying. He even missed the little mess of textbooks, colorful highlighters and notes scattered around.
Home didn’t feel like home without you.
In the middle of the living room, there were big cardboard boxes, as he opened, he noticed they were full of clothes, shoes and bags he had gifted you throughout your relationship. In a smaller box, all the jewelry he had given you, even anniversary gifts. Even the beauty products he had given you like perfumes, makeup products, and face creams.
You had returned every single thing.
And on the coffee table, your keys to the house and the keys of your Aston Martin DB12.
It seemed like you had returned everything that could tie you to him, everything that made him wrongly call you a gold digger. And it felt painfully like a goodbye.
-
While mixing your homemade coffee, your eyes flicked to the door, then to your phone on the table, facing up. Despite the searing pain in your chest, and the sorrowful hole in your heart, maybe it was time to start to move on. It had been more than a week, if he wanted to come back to you, he would’ve come by now.
You got ready to meet with your advisor, and she brought up a topic that had been common now, about you taking a position as a professor for a couple of Engineering subjects. She said it’d be good for you to work in your area while on the last few months before getting your doctorate degree. You had mostly denied the other times she offered the position, because you wanted more time with Fernando, because you wanted the freedom to fly around the world following him to his races.
Now- now you had more bills to pay and no boyfriend to follow. You also had more free time, a broken heart and a vacant mind.
“I’m considering the position. I believe it could do me good right now.” You said to her, thoughtful, “can I confirm with you tomorrow?”
After going through the meeting and getting a review on your thesis, you went back to your flat, taking a long shower. You had just dressed in pajamas when the doorbell rang. With long strides, you were faced with Carmen, and not Fernando as you expected.
“From your face I take it he hasn’t spoken to you, yes?” Carmen muttered, seeing the visible disappointment in your face.
“I’m sorry, please come in,” you opened the door wider, forcing a smile. Carmen had a couple of bags that she set on a nearby table.
“He told us what happened, I’m so sorry,” Carmen hugged you and you immediately started crying, since you had no one to talk about the past few days, “I brought chocolates and wine, so we can talk.”
Over chocolates and a bottle of Merlot, you told her everything, starting at the deuxmoi rumor. She looked horrified when you said word for word what had transpired the last time you spoke with him.
“I just don’t understand why he didn’t come talk to you yet,” Carmen added, at some point.
“Because he won’t, at all.” You say with your voice shaky from crying so much the past hour.
“Don’t say that. He loves you.” Carmen said.
“I’m not entirely sure about that,” you shrugged, pretending it didn’t hurt as much as it did, “He’ll find another one, someone who can enjoy his money since it seems like it’s all that matters to him.”
Carmen didn’t say anything to that and you knew she couldn’t argue with the facts. Later, George dropped by to get her, going up to your flat so he could hug you quickly and mutter “I’m sorry”.
With a heavy heart, you slowly rebuild a healthy routine again, doing grocery shopping, cooking meals, going to the gym, studying and everything.
One day, you went back home after going on a shopping spree, and as you got into the hall, Fernando was there, standing in your hall, waiting by the door. You stopped, almost losing the timing to leave the elevator. When you walked closer, he noticed you. Meeting his eyes was different this time, uncertain and a little distant.
“What do you want?” You asked, you hoped your voice would come out harsh, but it only sounded defeated.
“Can we talk?” He asked, and you nodded, opening the door and letting him in.
There was a moment of awkward silence as you put the shopping bags down. After doing that, you crossed your arms and stood against a side table, waiting quietly.
“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, for not fully believing your love, I guess I was so focused in protecting myself, that I ended up hurting you, and it was never my intention,” Fernando stood just two steps away from you, his eyes holding such pain and fear, that it made you crumble, he didn’t look like he’d been sleeping well, “I love you, I really do. For who you are and nothing else.”
You wanted to give in so bad, you wanted to run into his arms and never let go, but you also didn’t want to suffer again.
“How do you know? You never knew that for two years, how would you know it now?” You shook your head, tears starting to fill your eyes again.
“Because it is hard being without you,” he said, like he was trying to find the right words, “I can’t sleep without you. My life is miserable without you around.”
You only nodded, covering your lips with a hand. You wanted to tell him that you had not gotten proper sleep without him, that your life feels empty, that not knowing about him everyday was painful. But you needed more. You needed something you could hold onto, and maybe, just maybe take another chance at the two of you.
“I- I made a list. Like you said,” his voice failed, and you noticed his hand was shaking a little as he held the paper, “I love you. I love coming home to you every time and feel our house so lived in. I love how you always hug me first thing after I’m back home. I love the silly texts you send me randomly throughout the day talking about your day. I love the selfies with your tongue out too,” that made you two chuckle, and the movement made your tears fall, so you wiped them, staring at him intently, “I love that you’re always the smartest person in any room we’re in. I love that you’re humble, never showing off or being a smartass. I love how cheeky and witty you are. I love that you talk in your sleep. I love that scar in your knee, because it shows you were always a little naughty, even as a kid. I love that there’s always fresh flowers at home. I love that you love kids. I love that you get along well with my family. I love that you-”
He didn’t finish, as you closed the distance and launched yourself at him, hugging him tight. Fernando held you close, pressing you into him, inhaling your perfume, feeling like he was at home again.
“I’m so sorry, princesa. So so sorry. I missed you so much,” he whispered against your cheek, kissing it softly.
“I missed you too, Nando” you said, eyes closed and allowing yourself to just feel him again, “I love you so much.”
You let go, holding his face with both hands, looking into his eyes before kissing him softly. He, on the other hand, held the back of your neck firmly, licking your mouth open, until he had tasted your mouth, leaving you breathless.
“Come back home with me, princesa.”
At that, you took a step back.
“I- I can’t, Nando. I got a new job at the university.”
“What?”
“I thought you weren’t coming back to me,” you muttered, and your words made him wince, “I needed something to hold on to.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he ran a hand over his face, looking embarrassed for taking so long to come after you.
“I believe we should- we should take a step back, rethink a bit about our dynamic,” you told him, hesitant of his reaction.
“Are you unsure about us?” He asked, visibly worried.
“No, no- I love you- I do-” You started, taking his hand, holding it firmly against yours, “I just think we should rewind a bit. Have my own place and pay my own bills, I just don’t want to feel like that again, I need to regain my dignity in this.”
He kept quiet, because he knew deep down you were right. He felt awful about all the misunderstandings, but he knew you probably felt much, much worse. He should just get on his knees and be thankful you still loved him and still wanted him. He’d take all your conditions to get back with him.
And deep down both of you knew it was for the best. Moving out and living alone, working and seeing him occasionally as a boyfriend.
Holding your face, he kissed you, leaving little pecks on your lips, your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting him kiss you, and he muttered how much loved you and how much he missed you, kissing down the side of your neck. He walked you inside and let him, feeling his hands quickly peeling your clothes off, leaving a trail of clothes from the living room to your bedroom.
You parted so you could undress him, pulling at his jacket and the t-shirt.
“I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbled into a kiss, laying you down in bed.
You laid on the bed and he hugged him, making space for him between your legs. He held you, touching your nose with his gently.
“I missed you, princesa,” he kissed your cheek, “I promise I’ll do better from now on.”
“I know you will, baby.” You kissed him again, running your hand down his back, “make love to me now.”
He filled you up at once, and you groaned into his mouth, scratching your nails down his back as you cunt welcomed him. As he fucked into you, slowly at first then picking up pace, he muttered how much he loved you and how sorry he was, over and over.
As you cuddled after, quietly enjoying each other’s company.
“What do we do about all your gifts?”
“Give them away,” you shrugged.
“Can I convince you to take it back?”
“Not if you still want me in your life,” you muttered. He nodded, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder.
“You know how I know I love you?” Fernando asked, drawing invisible patterns on your back, “there’s an engagement ring in the third drawer of my bedside table.”
You hesitated for a second, but he knew you well. Better than anyone else.
“I know what you said, I just wanted to let you know. I bought it a week after you moved in with me. I know we’re rewinding a little bit for now, but you’ll be my wife one day.”
“And what if I refuse when you propose?” You smirked, and he pulled your leg over his waist.
“You won’t.”
Note: UGH IDK GUYS :(
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1#formula 1#fernando alonso x you#fernando alonso x reader#fernando alonso#Spotify
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Older! Boyfriend Toji Headcanons
MDNI! (Slightly) EXPLICIT CONTENT AHEAD!
Soft headcanons:
Older! Toji, who adores the huge size difference between the two of you. He loves how you tilt your head back to look at him or stand on your tippy toes, pushing on his shoulders, just to kiss his cheek.
Older! Toji, who has a ton of money (shout out to broke ass Toji, though 😔). You have no idea what he does for a living. You're pretty sure it isn't something totally legal, like accounting, but whatever. He doesn't mention it and you don't ask. His favorite thing to do is turn you spoiled rotten. He constantly takes you on shopping trips, although his attitude is astronomical, only letting himself smirk when you thank him for buying you a cute little sundress.
"That one's real cute, baby."
"Yeah, bub, that color is really nice."
"Just buy 'em both, I'll take you somewhere nice to show them off."
He can barley constrain himself from pinning you against the dressing room wall and pushing the faint yellow fabric of the dress away from your skin, tasting you through your little lace panties.
Older! Toji whose love language is quality time and physical touch. No matter what he's doing, he needs to have you next to him. He never thought he'd fall so hard for someone, yet here we are...
"Toji, baby please, I'm trying to cook dinner." Toji only tightens his grip around your waist.
"I know, pretty. Just want to feel you." He responded, hooking his chin over your shoulder, peering at the vegetable you were currently mutilating.
"That's definitely not how you cut garlic." You feel him turn his head, smirking into your neck.
"Shut up."
Older! Toji, who would never, EVER let you drive him anywhere. You're forever stuck as a passenger princess. Hell would have to freeze over before Toji would let you be responsible for transporting him somewhere. This includes the time he accidentally shot himself in the upper thigh (long story 🙄) and REFUSED to let you drive to the hospital. You belong in the passenger seat, and his big hand belongs rested on your thigh, gently squeezing the squishy flesh from time to time.
Older! Toji, who pays for your bi-weekly manicures.
"What about these?" You tilt your phone screen towards him, showing him the set of acrylics you saved to your pinterest board earlier that week.
"Hmm, very nice." He flashed you a small smile of approval before grabbing your hand, kissing each knuckle.
They'd look so small and delicate wrapped around his dick.
Older! Toji whose most embarrassing secret is his love-hate relationship with the Kardashians. At first it was baffling... he doesn't even look like he'd know who they are. However, this man is INVESTED. You heard it here first. He lives for the pettiness of it all.
"What the fuck is Khloé's problem now?"
Toji strolls into the living room where you're perched on the couch, eyes glued to the new episode of 'The Kardashians'. He huffs, plopping down next to you.
"She always acts like she's some mediator for Kim and Kourtney, but she's an instigator. Always whining and complaining about something." He scoffs, rolling his eyes. You laugh, humming in agreement.
His favorite thing to rag on them about is their baby names.
"North West? That's a fucking direction."
Older! Toji, who holds you at night. Feeling your chest rise and fall rhythmically with his is the most comforting feeling in the world. He never falls asleep before you, finding peace only when you've found yours. He only becomes sappy after midnight, the loneliness of a quiet bedroom forcing him to face his emotions. Once he's positive you're passed out for the night, he moves his hand from your upper back to your head, gently stroking back stray strands of hair that were previously covering your precious face.
"You looked so beautiful today. I need to tell you that more." He whispered.
"I'm so lucky to have such a sweet girl all to myself."
"I love you so much. More than anything."
Older! Toji, who sees you as his entire world. Scratch that, his entire universe.
Hope you enjoyed! xoxo
#fem reader#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#jjk toji#toji smut#jjk x reader#jjk#Spotify#size difference#age difference
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pavlov's dog
»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««
pairing || mob boss!bucky barnes x f!reader
word count || 1812
summary || he kept you waiting and it's his honour to make it up to you.
warnings || smut! loosely depicted mafia business, daddy kink, oral fem receiving, pet names, begging, mild degradation, dacryphilia, pussy slaps, cmnf, subspace, dom!bucky
author's note || 18+ ONLY. hi. i haven't written for more than a year and a half. ive been feeling some type of way about bucky and maybe getting back to writing mindless porn is what i needed to get my creative fulfillment ive been severely lacking. please don't mind the potentially choppy smut as i haven't written in a long while. feel free to reblog and leave comments!!
»» ──────ஓ๑ ღ ๑ஓ ────── ««
8:53.
8:53 PM, and you were still waiting for Bucky to finish his meeting. A recent competitor was threatening Bucky’s monopoly in New York, apparently, something to do with some guy who owned a publishing company inherited by his grandpa, who was looking to buy one Bucky already owned.
Whatever. You weren’t really listening when Bucky was talking about it over the phone because you were too busy keeping his cock warm.
You watch the digital clock flash another minute, and finally, your phone dings with an activity notification at the front door. Before you can try to be chill about it, you all but run to the door to greet your man, practically jumping on the balls of your feet with excitement. The door swings open, and you barely glimpse Bucky's tired and frustrated expression before it morphs into a sweet smile reserved for you, making his eyes crinkle at the corners and shine.
Running into his arms, you koala hug him as you nuzzle your nose into his neck. He expertly toes his shoes off while showering you with the same attention. “Were you waiting by the door for me the whole time, baby?” He asks with a smile.
Nodding your head yes and widening your eyes while twisting your lips into a pout, you decide to play the sweet, patient girlfriend who Bucky knows you really aren’t. “You kept me waiting for 4 whole hours, Jamie, 4 hours. I stood right by this door and didn’t take a single break until you came home.”
A hearty laugh escapes his lips at that, and you can feel the tension from his shoulders leaving as you gently rub them while still managing to cling onto him as he maneuvers you two to your bedroom. Unfortunately, both of you are well aware that patience is a virtue that you very simply do not possess.
“My poor, incredibly patient and honest baby. How rude of me to keep you waiting like this, huh?” He keeps his voice low, both in pitch and volume. It sends a tangible shiver down your spine as he sets you down on the bed. You bite your bottom lip, subconsciously spreading your legs, unable to hide your reactions from him.
Bucky loves how responsive you are to him.
“So mean to me daddy.” You whisper, “need you to make it up to me.”
Bucky licks his lips and clenches his jaw because fuck he needed this, especially after being stuck at his office for nearly 4 extra hours while you were at home looking like this. So sweet and soft and submissive for him; all he needed was someone to control because his empire in New York was being tried.
But Bucky had it under control. He always did. This wasn’t the first time he had to deal with a newcomer who decided to get a little ballsy and try and take over some of his territory.
He always did fuck you more aggressively when work had more hiccups than usual.
“Yeah, honey baby? How do you want Daddy to make it up to you? Use your words.” Bucky’s tone kept dropping, getting deeper and deeper with each delicious word he spoke to your somehow already foggy brain.
Even while he was giving you some control, he managed to maintain dominance over you, and that just flared the heat pulsing between your thighs.
“Need you, daddy, want your mouth.” You whisper, heat spreading your cheeks as you voice what you want, but a surge of pride goes through Bucky. At the beginning of the relationship, you had really struggled with voicing what you wanted, whether it was something like telling him you didn’t feel like getting dolled up to eat at a luxury French restaurant and wanted some burgers instead or how you struggled to say to him you wanted him to take his shoes and coat off before he came inside your apartment and sat on your couch. He dealt with people who feared him every day, people who never corrected him or crossed him. It was made abundantly clear you are not one of those people; you need to tell him what to do and how to do it, and he will. Bucky would bring the moon and the stars to you if the thought ever crossed your mind.
Dropping to his knees will have to do for now, he thinks.
His large palms spread your thighs as your pliant body falls back, but you prop yourself up on your elbows to watch the show. Bucky smiles at you with hunger in his eyes as he licks his lips once again while gingerly sliding your pajama shorts down your legs. You inhale sharply as the cool air from the open balcony doors hits your core. Bucky can’t help the rumble emerging from his chest as takes in your already wet pussy, bringing his thumb up to flick your swollen clit and messily run the tip of his finger around your pussy. “You were waiting for me without any panties on? You’re that fucking desperate for me, sweetheart? Ready to bend over for me as soon as I walk through the door?”
You whimper at his fingers and throw your head back, nodding it desperately fast.
“Aww, don’t go quiet on me now,” Bucky teases, “you were being such a good girl telling me what you want. Don’t stop now, angel baby.”
You whine high in your throat as you tug on his hand that is still purposefully brushing over your clit, “Please, Daddy, just- just-”
Before you can finish your plea, Bucky licks up your slit, expertly swirling his tongue around your clit as your thighs jolt around his head, and a surprised mewl leaves your lips. “Oh god, Daddy, need more, please more,” your hands reach out to grab onto whatever you can, one hand gripping Bucky’s hair, making him hiss and buck his own hips against his tight slacks while the other latches onto the silk bedsheets.
“Greedy girl,” Bucky hums against your pussy, but to your delight, he indulges you, slipping a thick finger into your pulsing hole. Still, before you have time to react to that, he’s wrapping his lips around your swollen clit for the first time tonight and sucks on it. Making your back arch up and your legs quake as you try to simultaneously push yourself away from him but pull him closer. A near-pornographic moan leaves your swollen lips as your chest heaves. You cry out his title as he slides another long finger inside you, hollowing his cheeks as he sucks on your poor little clit and soothes it with kitten licks every few seconds.
“Oh Daddy, you’re gonna- fuck, you’re gonna make me cum please, Daddy, please can I cum!” You babble, drool seeping from your lips as Bucky always manages to reduce you to a mindless, pathetic mess. It had never been easy for you to stop or slow down your orgasm, as Bucky always tended to barrel it out of you. Although you had noticed that the high that spread through your body when he permitted it was much more euphoric than the orgasms that slipped out of you.
Maybe it was something akin to Pavlov’s dog effect. Conditioning.
Bucky was aware of this fact as well. He knew your body, your mind, better than you did.
A satisfied smirk works itself onto his lips, and he grumbles something against your sensitive cunt, enjoying the way you struggled to keep your body at bay. “I dunno, my stupid little baby, dunno if you’re desperate enough yet.” Bucky’s words vibrate against you and propel you towards your high even quicker. Your whines get more high-pitched and breathy as you struggle against your boyfriend’s relentless tongue. “I am Daddy, I am desperate. Always am for you, please, Daddy, make me cum.” You whine a bit petulantly as your orgasm is right there. But he’s dangling it above your head and forcing you to obey him. So, you try the guilt-tripping route.
Tears well in your eyes, and your lip quivers, “Please, Daddy, don’t you wanna make me cum? Don’t you wanna take care of me? Make me cum all over your tongue and make a mess? Please, Daddy, need you so bad!” You cry, tears slipping down your face, and Bucky grunts, closing his eyes as he tries not to cum in his pants at the sound of your breathy pitch and the sight of tears slipping down your face.
He pulls back and curves three fingers toward your special spot, and takes his other hand to slap at your swollen clit in quick succession, making you squeal. Arousal paints your thighs as he quickly switches back to overstimulate your poor button by sucking on it so hard that your orgasm squirts onto his bearded face, making him groan in appreciation as he mumbles something like: “That’s it, there’s my good girl making a fucking mess like Daddy taught you.” But you are too out of your mind to really process his words as you struggle to breathe down from your high, tears slipping down your face as you bask in the overwhelming feelings of such an intense orgasm.
Bucky kisses up your thighs and stomach, easing his fingers out and tongue away slowly so you don’t go from overstimulated to zero all at once. He cups your face in his hands and kisses your cheeks as he shushes you, bringing you down from your high with soft words and coos that appeal to your clouded brain. You cup his much larger hands in yours, pouting your lips up for a kiss, and he chuckles before placing a soft kiss against your swollen lips. He can taste the salt from your tears, and it sends even more blood rushing straight to his dick as he ruts his hips against yours, making you pull your lips apart on a mewl.
“Daddy, will you fuck me now?” You ask with a certain lilt to your voice. Bucky scoffs before pressing his lips to yours and rumbling against your lips, “You’re an insatiable little whore you know that?”
Manhandling you to the top of the bed, he throws you against the pillows as unbuttons his slacks and pulls his hard cock out, pre-cum oozing from the swollen red tip as he looks like he could destroy you. “I’m your little whore daddy.” You tease, spreading your shaky legs apart, and he licks his lips.
—--------
Bucky worked from home the next morning. Needing the extra time to make up for the late nights and the particularly strenuous activities that led into the early morning hours.
As you sat on his lap, peacefully dozing in and out of sleep, he knew he had made the right choice that morning.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x yn#mob!bucky barnes x reader#mob!bucky barnes smut#mafia! bucky barnes x reader#mafia! bucky barnes smut
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an. part two of this | masterlist
You tell him you broke up with your boyfriend while he’s away for work, bunked up in a safe house in the middle of nowhere with shit reception, hearing your words as clear as day as if they weren’t the chopped-up version coming through his burner phone.
“It just…didn’t work out.”
It didn’t work out.
He pretends his stomach doesn’t pleasantly twist because he’d expected it to happen eventually. He’s not happy about it—although it does make the desert heat more bearable in his heavy tactical gear—and tells Soap to fuck off when he comments on it.
It was a one-time fuck because Simon doesn’t date. He’s tried in the past before he met you—the flowers, the late-night dinners—but with him being gone almost every other month (sometimes longer, shorter if he’s lucky), it never works out in the end. Sleeping with you twice would fall under that category, the quasi-relationship kind, and make everything messier than it needs to be.
Just some fun, no strings, those are the words he promised.
If only he believed them.
He does, for all of two weeks until he’s home again, and it’s summer, so you’re wearing a flowy dress that shows off the long expanse of your legs.
(He’s a goner—not even sure why he tried to think otherwise.)
That one time he’d promised turns into a second, both of you stumbling into your apartment after a night out. The music from the pub still thumping loudly underneath your floor as he pushes you against the front door, hands in your hair—on your waist, underneath your skirt, down your thigh to hitch it over his waist—teasing your mouth open with a swipe of his tongue across your bottom lip.
You make this delighted little noise in the back of your throat, arching into him, and his hand spans down your stomach, beneath your underwear, to nudge your messy clit with his knuckle, wanting to hear all the sounds you make now that he has you alone.
A whiny cry of his name rewards him—jeans tightening around his waist at the sound—when his fingers go down, down until they press against your tight little hole, one finger pressing inside slowly. "If I make you cum, I get to fuck you here.”
You smile prettily, and it disarms him. “If you make me cum, you can fuck me however you want.”
Neither of you makes it to the bed, falling asleep on the living room floor instead, the blanket from the couch draped haphazardly over both of you with his arm curled over your waist.
That night had been a slip of judgment, a product of wanting something warm and soft after several months of only having his hand for company.
It happens again and again, and he keeps letting it happen until there’s no more hiding under the guise of just fun because it somehow turns into a lot more than that.
Simon can’t explain how it happens—maybe becoming something he can touch and hold and think about often—but he finds himself in an exclusive relationship with you that isn’t exactly a relationship because he’s unsure of the ins and outs that they entail.
(Always has been.)
His father was a shit role model, and it was always easier finding someone new who didn’t know his name or care about his scars and only wanted a nice fuck. There had never been any point in shooting for something serious when it was always out of the question for him, until now, that is.
He takes you to that over-rated restaurant overlooking the Thames Marcus never brought you to. A picture of you and him with the sunset in the background—your smile almost blinding in the photo—becomes his home screen, and he finds he doesn’t care when Soap has something to say about it.
He lets you do nonsensical shit, like buying small plants for his house that are surely going to die from him being gone before he comes up with the great idea to give you a key. It’s just a key.
(It’s more than just a key.)
Simon finds himself asking if he can come over more often throughout the week, which slowly moulds and shifts into nights filled with things other than sex—sleeping after a long day of work, cuddling on the couch, cooking together, going to the movies—he doesn’t try to make a big deal out of it because you used to hang out all the time without sex.
(Somewhere, there’s a but in there.)
There’s still no label to whatever this is, and he wonders if you want him to be the first to say the thing you’ve both been dancing around for a little over…he can’t remember, but he knows it’s been long enough for your things to mix in with his at his house.
Be with me because I’m yours, and you’re mine, that’s what he’s trying to say, and it’s never the right time. Men like him—a little broken, rough, and jagged around the edges sharp enough to cut—aren’t good with words like that.
(That’s what he thought.)
If he hadn’t seen you talking to a guy at the pub, eyes crinkling in that same sweet way whenever Simon makes you laugh, he wonders if he would’ve been the first to break from the start. He knows it’s your job as a bartender to be nice, but his jaw clicks at the sight of the guy leaning over the bar and into your space, almost too close.
The feeling doesn’t go away until he has you spread out on your mattress under him—clothes haphazardly peeled out of the way for him to put his mouth on you—your lips pursed tight around two of his fingers to give you something to focus on as his other hand works between your thighs, pressing down on your tongue when gurgled little sounds slip out.
He teases you with a small, pink vibrator he found inside your bedside table, your legs kicking out and toes curling into his calves.
“Mine. This is mine, love,” he groans, pressing you further into the bed with his weight. “Do you understand?”
You nod, tears pearling and leaking from the corner of your eyes.
“Lemme cum,” you whine, words muffled. “Simon, I want to cum. Please.”
He won’t lie that he’s close after jerking into his fist to the sight of you writhing on the sheets—swears he can feel his heartbeat throbbing against the back of his fingers—takes in your surprised expression when he pushes forward, impaling you on the first few inches of his cock.
His stomach twists from the squeal that escapes your throat, and fuck, your cunt, so hot and tight with little pulses that drive him crazy, only growing tighter when he turns up the speed on the vibrator.
“‘Mm, gonna cum. I’m—”
He grits his teeth as you start to flutter around his cock once he’s rooted inside you. “Go on—fuck—go on, love. Let me feel it.”
You look so perfect like this, like a dream: lips parted into an enticing little O with his name tumbling out in breathy mewls, tits hanging out from the bra he shoved to the side, eyes glassy and unfocused.
“So fucking pretty.” He kisses your throat, panting into your sweat-slick skin, and it’s not long before he’s falling over the edge with you.
Next time, he’ll have the courage to tell you: that you’re not someone he calls for a meaningless fuck on the weekend, that Simon misses you when he’s gone and can’t wait to come home, that he wants to try with you—except not when he’s balls deep and trembling inside your heavenly cunt.
But the smile he feels against his shoulder makes him think that maybe…
Maybe you already know.
#simon riley smut#simon riley imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#cod smut#cod imagine#cod x reader#mw2 smut#mw2 x reader#mw2 imagine#ghost x reader#ghost imagine#ghost smut#.things i write
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