#also the name sounds lovely on his tongue i just think he should say it more often :) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

risuola · 4 months

Text

II — JUST HUSH — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN

Morning after the adventure with the dangerous stranger went just like you suspected - horribly, but that wasn't the worst that was waiting for you.

cw: angst, mafia!au, violence, few suggestive parts, insults, somewhat of an obsessive behaviors, reader discretion is advised — 4,3k words

a/n: officialy, this fic became a series - I wasn't expecting it to be so loved by you, readers and I can't thank you enough for the support to this story. also, there is a suggestion in my ask!box that I took a lot of inspiration for this chapter, so whoever gave the idea, thank you ❤️

series masterlist

Being soft was a trait that Sukuna never actively credited himself with. He never had any urge to do so, never needed to explore that side of him and in his profession, that would most likely lead to a certain death. Leading people of mafia required him to be harsh and rough, there was no time and place for any kindness and gentleness and honestly, if anybody asked him about it just yesterday, he would say with certainty that the softness in him died long time ago. Even with women, he was never exactly sensual – he’s rather the type to take what he needs, devour what he’s hungry for and leave. Aftercare wasn’t his strong suit, for some reason inside his mind taking care of someone made him weak. That was before you.

You met not even a day ago, you asked for his help and once you got his attention, he knew he was fucked. You were just so gorgeous, so innocent and the way your glossed with tears eyes looked into his, he felt the strangest warmth inside his chest – a need of protection? Something so foreign and absurd that wouldn’t usually cross his mind. But then, he had you in his house, he had you on top of him and he had you hungry. You were smart, surely you noticed the gun pinned to his belt, he wasn’t exactly discreet about it and yet, you chose to stay with him for the night. It had to be some kind of sinister plan of yours, Sukuna wondered.

Were you put in his way to sabotage him?

He had no idea, but once the day was bright and now close to evening, you were still sleeping in his bed, with your head resting atop of his chest and one of your legs thrown over his own. You were breathing slowly and peacefully, so blissfully unaware of how dangerous it is for you to be in the same house with him, not to mention lay tangled with him below the sheets. As he smoothed over your bare shoulder with his fingers, he was thinking about how the night went. The sex was great, the best he had in years. You were playing along with him, you wanted him as much as he wanted you and as you playfully fought for dominance with him, he could have sworn it was the sexiest thing he’s ever experienced. The way you tugged his hair, pushing him nose deep into your dripping core and keeping him there until he made you cum almost made him cum as well, just from the slight dominance you had on him. Even though he allowed this to happen. He could still recall the delicious sting of your nails scratching red marks onto his back and shoulders. Every time his name slipped over your tongue, his heart seemed to skip a beat.

Just like that, you’ve got him hooked, but even so, he should have kept his word. He should have made you get dressed, maybe, out of curtesy, allow you to take a shower so that his seed wouldn’t run down your legs and mess up the leather in his car. He should have driven you home as soon as he was finished with you, but he didn’t. He couldn’t. Not when you wrapped yourself around him, exhausted and already half-asleep, searching for the warmth of his body. Not when your weight on top of him felt like it was meant to lay there and especially not when your lips pressed few lazy kisses to the side of his neck before you dozed off.

You moved, rolling away from him and onto your back. You were waking up, he could tell by the sound of your quiet hums and the way your breath pattern changed from slow and calm to deep and more present. Sukuna flipped to his side, taking in the beauty of your features, now illuminated with the daylight. Your makeup kept up pretty well and even the smudged edges couldn’t take away your loveliness.

You hummed a little louder, groggily reaching up with your hands and arching your back like a cat in a long, sharp stretch. The covers slipped off your chest, exposing the pink of your nipples that now matched the many marks he had sucked onto your flesh just hours ago. Then your body relaxed, once again falling onto the mattress and a smile stretched your lips when Ryomen put his fingers against your skin. He brushed it ever so lightly along the shapes of your form, running along your collar bones, circling around the nipples and then, moving it down up and down your sternum.

“Good morning,” you purred against his lips when he reached to kiss you.

“More like good evening,” he replied, his voice quiet and calm as he moved his hand to the side of your body and pulled you flush against his chest. You hooked your leg onto his hip and wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your fingers into his hair.

“That late, huh?”

“That late.”

It was dangerous. The way you looked into his eyes, the relaxed stance your body, oblivious to the fact you were in the embrace of death personified – it was all too dangerous for Sukuna. It was too warm, too lovely, too innocent. He hated the vulnerability you subjected him to and the fact his head was filled with wishes to protect you? Fuck, it was bad. It wasn’t him, it wasn’t what he stood for in his life, it was against all of his morals. He had always been a man of few emotions, always cold and never letting anything or anyone get to him. He was calculating, feared by many and respected by few. He had risen through the ranks of the underworld by means that were often brutal and always efficient. Never, not once, he had let emotions to cloud his judgement or stand in the way of his goals. But then, you happened.

“The night…” You murmured softly, brushing the tip of your nose against his own. “I enjoyed it very much, ‘kuna—” And the nickname?!

“That’s enough,” he groaned, his tone coming in sharp and cold and it immediately brought you back to your senses. The wishful daze of bliss vanished in an instant, suddenly the tension came back to your shoulders. It was too much for Sukuna, he wanted to have a nice fuck that night and he already made a mistake by letting you stay in his bed when he was done with you. It was dangerous for you, it was dangerous for him and honestly, that lovey-dovey shit has never been his brand anyway. “Time for you to go.”

“What happened? You were so delicate just a moment ago—”

“Spare me the dumb romantic shit. I just wanted to fuck you, don’t get ahead of yourself and if you wish to keep that pretty head of yours then better get fucking going. I’ll have a driver take you back home.” He shut you down roughly and from that point, it all went quickly. You were gone in just few moments. You were gone, but the man felt no relief.

…

Few days passed by. Or was it weeks? Sukuna couldn’t tell as days began blurring their edges and all he could focus on was you. He couldn’t rid himself of the memory of you rushing in fear, just barely clothed as if he was about to hunt you down and shot you in the head if you didn’t leave his space. As if the one minute longer would cost you your life. Every time he closed his eyes or got into his bed he could see the picture of your face, the display of hurt and fright that stained the beautiful innocence in the moment he had told you to leave, discarding you as if you were a toy that he used and got bored of.

What was this feeling? He was asking himself every time he had watched you from afar. Was it guilt? He couldn’t tell, it felt foreign. For Ryomen it was an everyday thing to scare someone off, the blood of his enemies is what he’s ravishing in but you… You were far from being his enemy. And so he found himself more and more often observing you, each time being in the same place as you by accident. You made him fascinated, you made him fall into your trap. He found himself drawn to you, drawn to the light that you brought with you. He was missing you. Was that your plan all along? A revenge for how he had treated you that one night?

Your heart was pure, almost too pure for this world, Sukuna thought to himself every time he had a chance to see your everyday life. A waitress, serving tables in a small, local café, wearing the smile that he could tell was fake, and yet it charmed everyone and he couldn’t help but feel the odd sense of pride when he realized that the way your lips were curved the night you were together was utterly real. And then, he would see you on your days off, wearing cozy and comfy clothes, no makeup adorning your face as you were lost in the world of music in your headphones and whatever task you had in front of your face on the screen of your computer. You were too cute for your own good, with the little scrunch of your nose whenever you closed your tired eyes and the colorful stickers of cats and sunflowers that decorated the outside of your laptop. He’s seen you feeding some stray kittens with the salmon from your sandwich, petting their little heads as they were leaning into your touch and Sukuna would never imagine himself being jealous of the feline, but there he was, hidden behind the darkened windows in his car, wishing to be the one who’s head is in the warm and delicate embrace of your soft palm. Fleeting attraction, that’s what it had to be.

Sukuna had never thought of himself as a romantic, but there was something about you that did it for him. You were soft, gentle and vulnerable in a way that made him want to protect you, to shield you from the violent life he led. And yet, you were also strong, strong enough to face him, to challenge him and even make him laugh. It was a strange combination, and it made him feel things he had never felt before. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he was thinking of you more and more often. He had to be careful, though. He could tell that you were innocent, that you didn’t understand the world he lived in. If he let himself get to close, he might put you in danger and the thought of that, he couldn’t bear. He had a responsibility to keep you safe, even if it meant pushing you away. And for the first time in his life, he was scared. Scared that if he plays this whole thing wrong, he might lose you, even if he never truly had you. He was scared you’ll find out who he really was and scared of what that would do to you. He knew you noticed his gun, you had to notice it, but did you really had any idea what that meant?

For you, the time after meeting the stranger in the club was everything but easy. The hurt subsided quite rapidly, your heart wasn’t stupid enough to grow attached to a man you’d known for just few hours and deep down you knew that what you started by asking him for help had to end up somewhat similar to what happened. He wasn’t a prince from the fairy tale and you were no princess, it wasn’t a story of love, it was just sex and with that, you came to terms quite quickly. It was the fright that you couldn’t shake off your shoulders. Sukuna was a man that was keeping a gun attached to his belt, he had to be a gangster or something along these lines and considering the big, rounded and scared eyes of everyone in his proximity you’d only assume that his position in the world was at least threatening. It stayed in the back of your mind that he might have come for you, to hurt you or worse. He had shown you where he lives, after all, wasn’t that enough of a reason to erase someone from the world?

But nothing bad happened as your life went by, somehow it seemed as if it was even going smoother than it used to. The one very stubborn client, one that used to harass you every time he had a chance suddenly stopped showing in the café you work in; you even got a little raise from your boss, what despite being a bonus that you really needed, was also the most suspicious thing that happened to you lately. Your boss never gave raises. Life was good, until—

…

—you opened your eyes feeling pain. At first, you couldn’t tell what happened to you. Where were you? How did you get here? And why was everything so white?

Breathe in and out. Why did breathing hurt? And what was that beeping?

“You’re awake,” a voice made you turn your head to the side. And then, at the sight of a familiar face, it all flashed back.

It was at night, you were heading home from the meeting with your co-workers. An absurd celebration of something that you were quite certain didn’t even concerned you or your interns, but your boss required you all to be present anyways. It was tiring, to stay in the café after nearly ten hours shift, but thankfully during the event you were sitting and not actively working, so at least it was that much. Your legs hurt nonetheless, you felt fatigued after the entire week of intense shifts intertwined with classes, so when you were suddenly yanked by the wrist to the back, it wasn’t much of a surprise to you that you lost your balance.

“What do we have here, eh?” One of the men spoke and as you looked up, two faces were glaring at you with disgusting sense of superiority. “Oi, Naoya, is that the bitch you were talking about?”

“Bet it is,” the second man snorted. “She fits the description.”

Naoya? The name rang a bell so roughly and suddenly that your eyes widened in fear. It was the man you met in the club, the one that was all over you the second he met you. The one that you escaped only thanks to asking another stranger for help. But now, you couldn’t see him. Who stood above you was a man with long, silver hair and a face covered in linear scars. He was wearing a face of psychotic content, a grin so unsettling that it froze the blood inside your veins and just by the look of him you could tell he was dangerous. And then, the second one stood right next to him – his hair was pitch black and eyes probably green-ish, with little scar on the side of his lip that made itself apparent the moment you looked at him. He was insanely well-built, in a shirt that looked like one of those compression, sport-related attires.

“What do you want from me…?” You asked, your voice uncharacteristically quiet, as if the fear made your vocal cords clench. And you felt it, an unsettling feeling of upcoming death and it led to a chain of regret of every choice that you made that led you to this place and time. You should’ve taken a taxi. Or go a different route.

“Oh, we’re here to teach you a lesson,” the white-haired one responded as the other grinned like the devil himself. And then, they moved to the sides a little and right in the middle appeared the man that you do recognize. Naoya Zenin himself, with his face twisted in some kind of sick satisfaction as he grabbed your hair and yanked you up from the ground. Your back hit the concrete wall and his near proximity made you instantly tensed.

“I got you,” he grinned and there was violence intertwined into the expression his face bore. “I finally fucking got you.”

“Just leave me alone…” You demanded, your voice much weaker that you’d like it to be, much less constructive, not confident at all. You were frightened, to say the least, there was no way you could protect yourself from one man, but three? “Please.” As you begged, your own death flashed before your eyes. There was no way in hell you’re gonna survive this, that had to be it. The night was dark enough to cover the crime that was happening and even if there would be any bravery in you still left, nobody would help you. No one would be dumb enough to stand against the group that was about to abuse you.

“Oh, the little bitch is scared, huh?” Naoya laughed right into your face, his tongue leaving a wet trace along your throat and it filled you with enough disgust to wince. “Where’s your protector now, eh? Where’s your big daddy Sukuna?”

“What’s your problem?” The question slipped through your tongue in nothing more than a whisper. You couldn’t believe that you’re going to die because you asked a random man for help and that random man turned out to be a gang member or something. “I don’t have anything to do with him, I—”

“Of course, you don’t. I’m sure he fucked you and threw you out like a trash you are,” Zenin spit nothing but venom as his eyes were piercing holes into your skull. You could feel his hand sneaking underneath the fabric of your hoodie and your attempts on pushing him away did nothing to stop him from squeezing one of your breasts. “I bet you’re a good fuckthing tho.”

“Get your hands off of me,” you warned, your voice now rougher but still, too quiet to pose any threat. You wanted to nail his eyes out, to rip his heart out of his chest, but none of that you were able to do. Naoya laughed, once again, sounding like an asshole he was as he stepped back.

“Undress.” It was an order that he threw at you. Him, along with the other two, circled you as if predators would circle their prey and you felt small below the weight of their eyes.

“No.”

The moment you denied, the sharp pain sent you to the ground. He hit you, one of them, right in the face, with the top of his hand. The harsh contact of his knuckles and your cheekbone snatched you off your feet.

“You heard the order. Behave, slut.” The dark haired one was speaking calmly, but there was a certain coldness in his tone. The nonchalance that froze your insides.

“No…” You whispered, desperate to keep your dignity intact before you die. Immediately they showed you why hoping for it was foolish, as the series of kicks enveloped you in the cage of pain and suffering. You hid your head inside your arms, a helpless try to protect it from the heavy boots that not once held back before making contact with your fragile frame. You remember the sound of their voices, the feeling of their fists connecting again and again with your body.

“So fucking stupid,” someone laughed at you and you were far from sure and way too scared to check it yourself, but you could have sworn that somebody spit at you. “Don’t you understand? Nobody will save you now, no one cares about a bitch like you. I’d say it last time. Undress.”

“N-no…”, you sniffled, hugging your head tightly as if bracing yourself for another salve of hurt. But it didn’t come, no hit was aimed at your curled on the ground body. Instead, you heard the pained whines from not too far away, you heard the sounds of a battle and was it the sound of bones being broken? You couldn’t tell, it felt surreal, was that it? Was that how you’re gonna die? Because surely no one in their right mind would step into action, risking being killed themselves for you.

“Hey, I’ll take you to the hospital,” that voice. You knew that. You heard it for such a short time in your life and yet you’d recognize it everywhere. The low, slightly husky tone that you remembered as one that was enough to turn you on just by the sound of it. Now it was accompanying the very gentle arms that scooped you off the floor. Then, you dared to open your eyes.

…

“Ryomen?” Your voice felt weak, your throat hoarse from the dryness but that didn’t stop you from speaking. The more information got into your brain, the easier it got to understand what was the place you woke up in.

A hospital. You woke up in the hospital bed, surrounded by monitors and machines. Your body bruised and battered, ached with each breath you tried to take. Your head was still foggy and your muscles stiff, you had a pounding headache that only got worse as the memories of the night before came flooding back to you. You were lucky. So incredibly lucky to be alive. And yet again, Sukuna saved you. Then you probably passed out.

“You’re awake,” he sounded soft. How odd. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m… why are you here?”

“I had to check if you’re alright. And also I’m gonna take you home, but needed to wait until you’re awake and doctors can give you the last checkup.” He explained it matter-of-factly and it only got you more confused than you were just a second ago.

“That… doesn’t exactly answer my question…?”

“It will do for now. I’ll bring the doctor.”

Sukuna left the room sooner than you had a chance to ask anything else. He felt as if the weight was taken off his shoulders the very second you opened your eyes and recognized him. The last hours were an agony, he stayed near your bed for the entire time and though there was nothing that was threatening your life anymore, he couldn’t help but feel so awfully guilty. The foreign feeling of it made him realize that he was fucked up good, you had poisoned him with emotions that he already forgot about, the useless display of something that he considered a weakness for the better of his life. As he was watching your fragile frame, though covered with white, clean sheets he felt the rage boiling inside his veins because he knew. He saw the damage on your body, the bruises that painted your soft skin in dark, purple-ish blotches, the patch of scratches on your side – in place where your naked hip met the ground. And your cheek… there still was a red spot on top of your cheekbone, the one Sukuna assumed was also a result of a hit and it angered him even more because if he has noticed it before, he would for sure kill those imitations of a men and not only leave them in a mush.

Sukuna felt a certain sense of responsibility due to what happened to you. It wasn’t your fault, per se, that when you were looking for help in that club when you first met him, you had the misfortune to pick a persona like him and frankly, if Sukuna would know back then that Naoya will come for you later to get his revenge, he would kill him right then and there. The more he thought about it, the more he was realizing that he would kill anyone if it was to keep you safe.

“Ready to go home?” Ryomen asked, assisting you in pulling your bruised arms through the sleeves of a hoodie he had brought you. A clean one, way too big on your frame but comfortable at that, lined with plush so that it won’t irritate your injured skin.

“I think so…?” Your reply was confused, it was unsure and still slightly underlined with fear. There was a reason to it, last time you saw the man that was now trying to help you, he threatened to rid you of your head. “Ryomen, I don’t understand—”

“Just hush,” he cut you, gently swooping you off the edge of the bed and you settled in the safety of his muscular arms, leaning your head against his shoulder, next to his neck. “I was told you still should rest so let me take you home. Alright? Alright.”

There was no point in arguing, you couldn’t do much whilst in his arms even if you tried and it was naïve, you thought, but there was a sense of protection tied tightly to the way he was keeping you close. You felt as if any danger couldn’t reach you when his hands were wrapped around you. He was dangerous, that much you knew, and yet there was a gentleness in a way he was holding you near his chest, near the place where his heart beats in a regular, calm rhythm. Fact is, you didn’t want to run away from him, though you should. And so, you leaned into him, nuzzling your head into the dip between his neck and shoulder and as you breathed in his scent, the musky note of his cologne and tobacco, you felt at ease.

» PART THREE

taglist: @yihona-san06 , @tiredscavengerskeleton , @son4aras , @vixorell , @cecesharktales , @isleqt , @thickmacandcheese

2K notes · View notes

archiveluna · 3 months

Text

being in a weird situationship with farleigh... <3 inspired by the song boyfriend by ariana grande ft. social house

WARNINGS ✧ none i think? ooc farleigh maybe, situationship? my bad writing… it’s been 7 years. written on my iphone at 1am while sleep deprived </3 sorry in advance! i also suck at writing endings ◡̈

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ︶︶︶⠀⠀୨୧⠀⠀︶︶︶

‘you ain’t my boyfriend and i ain’t your girlfriend but you don’t want me to see nobody else and i don’t want you to see nobody’

you could feel him glaring at you from all the way across the room but made no move to look his way. if he could go around hooking up with random people, then you had the right to do as you please also.

wether he’d like to admit it or not, farleigh was a jealous man, especially when it came to you and there was only so much he could take before storming your way, his long legs reaching you in record time and dragging you away from the confused boy who you’d been previously talking to.

‘even though you ain’t mine, i promise the way we fight make me feel like we just in love’

“what do you think you’re doing?”

you couldn’t hold back the laugh that escaped your mouth. was he being serious? the only thing holding you back from causing a scene being the people around you guys and the not so subtle eyes of his cousin and friends watching everything unfold. god.. you knew coming to this party was a bad idea. “not sure what you mean.” you shrugged.

he nodded his head in a mocking way, pursing his lips. “hm, right. so this isn’t you getting back at me for the other day, is it? because i told you-“

“getting back at you?” you cut him off shaking your head in disbelief. “get over yourself farleigh. am i not allowed to talk to other people? not everything’s about you, you know.” except this totally was about him. you almost groaned when you saw the smirk forming on his lips. that bastard. he knew, of course he did.

‘i know we be so complicated lovin you sometimes drive me crazy cause i can’t have what i want and neither can you’

you refused to meet his eyes when he called out your name, arms crossed looking at the people dancing around you. farleigh chuckled, taking a step closer. you took one back in return. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were jealous.” his tone was teasing, and you didn’t have to look at him to know he still had that infuriatingly attractive smirk on his face. i am. “of what? you’re not my boyfriend, you can do whatever you want.” you looked up at him, doing your best to appear nonchalant. farleigh laughed, throwing his head back like you had said the funniest joke he’s ever heard, which only served to agitate you more.

his eyes were practically sparkling when he looked down at you, his hands reaching to cup your face despite your failed attempts to push him away. “i didn’t fuck her. if that’s what you’re pissed about, all we did was make out...” he trailed off unsure if he should say what he was thinking. the way he was looking at you made your cheeks warm up, but you refused to speak. you wanted him to say it. you knew what he wanted to say, and as stupid as it sounded, you refused to be the first one to break. “i haven’t slept with anyone for months now actually.” his hands now resting on your hips squeezed them lightly.

farleigh admitting that shouldn’t of felt as good as it did, but it was as if you could feel a weight lifting off your shoulders. you hoped for a different kind of confession, but this was also nice to know. although you weren’t all that happy that he was still going around shoving his tongue down other peoples throats you couldn’t exactly complain either. he wasn’t your boyfriend. you had to remind yourself of that.

‘but you ain’t my boyfriend and i ain’t your girlfriend but you don’t want me to touch nobody else baby, we ain’t gotta tell nobody’

“like i said, farleigh, you’re free to do whatever you want. nothing is stopping you.” farleigh let out a mixture of what sounded like a groan and laugh, pulling you closer to him without you attempting to push him away this time around. “you” he paused to pinch your cheek softly. “are so fucking stubborn, did you know that?”

you couldn’t hold back the giggle that escaped your lips as you looked up at him, finally giving in to his touch. you had only been ignoring him for a few days, but it felt like a lifetime to you and even if he wouldn’t say it, you knew he felt the same way if the way he was gripping your hips was anything to go by.

“were you really going to fuck that loser to get back at me?” farleigh suddenly asked, looking over to where the guy whose name you’d already forgotten now sat talking with a different girl, his face in that permanent scowl he seemed to have when he wasn’t around you or his friends. “i tuned him out the moment he opened his mouth to be honest.” you could feel your cheeks heating up once again as he laughed at your honesty. “yeah, i figured once you wouldn’t stop eye fucking me from across the room.”

“shut up!” you groaned, swatting his chest. “you’re the one who has a staring problem, you creep. seriously, you’re worse than that fucking ollie kid.” farleigh huffed, somewhat offended that you would compare him to oliver but said nothing else as he pulled you towards the table where felix and the rest of his posse sat, all of them immediately pretending like they hadn’t been watching when you both approached except for felix, who gave farleigh a not so subtle smirk when he pulled you to sit on his lap.

‘if you were my boyfriend and you were my girlfriend i probably wouldn’t see nobody else’

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ︶︶︶⠀⠀୨୧⠀⠀︶︶︶

i suck at endings can u tell ꃋᴖꃋ i know i said i wasn’t gonna write and i probably won’t for a while but i had to get this idea out of my head! i ♥︎ farleigh start. also sorry for any errors! i’m nervous just posting this, bye

#farleigh start x reader #farleigh x reader #farleigh x fem!reader #farleigh start x fem!reader #saltburn x reader #farleigh start #saltburn #archie madekwe

648 notes · View notes

touyasdoll · 9 months

Text

After Class

pairing: professor!Gojo x student!reader (fem)

word count: 1.8k

warnings: inappropriate power dynamics, professor kink, power play, cum eating, oral (f!receiving), reader is wearing a thong and a skirt, semi public sex, rough sex, let me know if I missed any

notes: turns out I can still write smut, I think. hope you enjoy <3

"My next class is in 20 minutes, gorgeous," Satoru coos in your ear, grinding the tent in his slacks against your thinly clad pussy, only concealed by the fabric of your cotton thong beneath your skirt.

"You should hurry up and fuck me then already. I don't wanna keep you, professor," you purr, glancing back at him over your shoulder as you drop your hips back.

A moan leaves your lungs as you grind on his length just right, sending a shiver along your spine as your soaked cunt clenches around nothing.

He does love to tease, but he doesn't have the luxury of time today and he knows it. He's also so hard that it's beginning to hurt and the noises coming from you only make it worse.

"I want to keep you though," he whispers smoothly as he drapes himself across your back, lowering himself on his long arms to brush his lips against the shell of your ear.

He nips at it, reaching down to free himself from his pants before he flips your skirt up and hooks a finger into the thin strip of cotton separating him from what he's after.

Should he be fucking a student? No.

Does he care when his cock is buried inside you though? Also no.

"M'all yours for the next 19 minutes, baby. Make 'em count," you say as you reach over to grab onto the edge of the desk as you shake your ass.

"You're gonna be mine for a lot longer, princess," he replies as he glides the head of his dick against your folds, letting your juices soak the tip before he slowly sinks inside of you.

A groan pulls from him as your breathless gasp echoes back at your from the surface of the large wooden desk. He's so big it's mind numbing. Even when he takes his time.

"Fuck, Satoru," you breathe his name out, whimpering when he starts to move.

He slowly draws his hips back, the motion occuring in time with the handsome smirk spreading across his face, which only portrays a fraction of the insanity this man is able to convey.

"I'd love to hear you say my name when I'm not inside you. It sounds so good on your tongue," he says as he stands tall and grabs your hips, rolling his own at a steady pace.

"It'd probably make me hard anyway," he continues as he suddenly picks up the tempo, gripping your hips hard enough to threaten to leave bruises in the wake of his long fingers as his thrusts start to jostle your entire frame.

You cry out, wholly overwhelmed by the sensations flooding your entire body. It's easy to forget just how good it feels when you're with him until you find yourself here again, drowning in him while his cock drowns in you.

You grip the edge of the desk tighter, clinging to it as the two of you both struggle not to grow too loud for fear of alerting someone passing by in the hall to your illicit activities.

"Holy shit, you feel so fucking good, baby," he growls through grit teeth, colliding with you at an almost unnatural pace as his cock grows impossibly harder inside of you. "So tight. S'like your pussy doesn't wanna let me go."

You wish you could respond, but you can't. Not with the way it feels like he's threatening to puncture your lungs with every unforgiving shift of his hips. It's all you can do to hang on while the pressure inside of you grows with each passing second.

You do respond with a cry, one of pure pleasure. Your nails press hard into the wood, clutching despertely like it's your only tether to this realm, because it is. The euphoria coursing through you, promising that it will overcome you, is so all encompassing that it nearly blinds you; it strikes you dumb.

He looks down, committing to memory the glorious sight of his cock plunging in and out of you, punishing your cunt. His and his only. You are his and, in this moment, you both know it, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

He puts his all into giving you what you want, what he knows that you need, driving himself into you with every ounce of strength that he has, spurred on by the need to claim you, even though he already has you right where he wants you. Pliant and accepting beneath him.

"Need you to cum for me, gorgeous. Can you do that?" he asks, his voice much more calm than his body feels as every inch of him grows taut, threatening to snap if pulled any tighter.

You nod, you think you do, at least. Everything is rendered inconsequential as something inside you explodes, making you see stars even when your eyes roll back inside of your head.

He wraps a hand around your mouth, presesing it tight over your face to muffle the feral scream that pours from you. You couldn't stop it if you tried, not if your life depended on it.

"That's it. That's fucking it, baby," he mutters a second before his own end comes to claim him, stealing all of the breath from his lungs and inspiring his body to move on it's own.

His hips cast into yours as his seed spills into your womb, filling you completely as you whine and readily accept it, pushing yourself up with what strength you have left in your body to thrust your hips back to meet his own, drawing out his pleasure as he draws out yours.

"Satoru," you breathe out, sighing in ecstasy and your body gives out, thumping onto the desk while his motions stutter and then still.

He drapes himself over you, kissing along the back of your neck to nip at your flesh, to have one last taste of you before he reluctantly parts his form from yours, slipping out of you and sending a sinful mixture of both of your essences dripping onto the floor.

"You are going to be the death of me," he murmurs into your ear, kising the side of your face.

"I could say the same," you sigh, eyes heavy and body seemingly lifeless as you try to will your legs to move, but it's useless with every neuron inside you still firing and him lazily draped across your back.

"At least we'll go together," he muses, his lips quirking into a smile as he nips your ear one last time, sending a shiver down your spine before he stands tall to tuck himself back into his pants.

You push yoursself up once you've recovered, tilting your head to one side as you look him over and hop up onto the desk.

"Eat it," you command cooly, looking him straight in his baby blue eyes that have reduced you to nothing time and time again.

"What?" He quirks a brow, looking you over.

"Eat your cum out of my cunt, Satoru," you demand again as you lay back on your elbows and part your legs, displaying the mixture of you and him trapped between your thighs, leaking out of you.

He looks down, eyes widening slightly before he flashes you that smirk that never fail to make your knees weak and sinks down to his own.

His hands come up to hold onto your thighs, fingers running aong your still sensitive skin as his breath fans your core before he dives in, ice blue eyes locked with yours.

You gasp, your hand flying into his snow white locks to tug gently as his eyes flutter and falls closed while he devours you. His tongue laps at your pussy, greedily tasting the concoction of your escapades.

"Fuck," he murmurs into you, sucking on your clit just to smirk when you whine.

He does as you bid him, tasting the salt of his own design and the sweetness of you, letting it bathe his tongue as he cleans you. Rids you of the evidence of the sin you both committed so willingly, but he doesn't stop.

He doesn't stop even as your fingers tighten in his hair, tugging harshly at the stark white tresses that have been turned wild by your touch. If anything, he laps more incessantly at your center, sending you careening off into an abyss that you haven't seen before. That you haven't had the intene pleasure of seeing until he brought you there and tosses you over that precipice.

You howl and he reaches up, clamping his hand down over your mouth as your hips grind desperately against his face. He groans against your folds before he wreches himself away to stand up and claim your mouth, as if he hadn't taken enough already.

You kiss him back, tasting yourself on his tongue as his slides against yours, exploring your mouth without shame, because that was left at the door when you two were together. There was no place for it.

The handle on the door jiggles, stirring both of you as your heads whip towards the door nearest the front of the room.

"Fuck," you hiss, trying to collect your senses as you push him off and stand up, adjusting your panties and your skirt.

"Fucking early birds," he mutters as he wipes his chin, staining the sleeve of his shirt with your juices.

You move to grab your bag and he follows you, his long legs allowing him to keep up even with your head start.

He catches your wrist and you find yourself bumping into his imposing frame. As lean as he looks, it's all muscle. All height, towering over you as he bends down, catching your jaw with his other hand as he kisses you again.

You get lost in it, the knocking on the door fades away as you savor his taste—your taste—again.

"I'll be seeing you, beautiful," he says softly, a dangerous glint in his eye as he gives your hand a squeeze and lets you go.

You flash him a smile and grab your things as you chew on your lip, making for the door towards the back as he heads for the one at the front.

With one last longing glance, the both of you turn the respective handles in your grasp and you slip out of the room, retreating into the hallway to carry on with your day, traces of him lingering on your skin. In your soul, where he now resides.

thank you for reading! likes, reblog, and comments are all greatly appreciated ❤️

#gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #gojo x reader smut #gojou x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #just writing✏️

2K notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 7 months

Text

How JJK men react when (y/n) gets injured

Pairing: Nanami x reader; Megumi x reader; Toji x reader; Geto x reader

Word Count: 2,4k

Warnings: injury (lol), listen I know Geto's one isn't that realistic, I just needed something with a lot of fluff, don't come at me okay, also might be shitty because my sick head isn't funcional at the moment so have mercy How Gojo reacts when (y/n) gets injured can be found here Aaaaand Choso with a injured (y/n) who has blood phobia here

Nanami Kento

You weren’t fast enough. The second the bullet enters your skin, you know you fucked up.

“(y/n)!”, Nanami’s distant voice calls out your name.

You clench your teeth, blood pumping in your ears while a stabbing pain spreads in your guts. This is bad. Very very bad. This is a mission you have to complete together, Nanami and Yuji both rely on you. Fuck, you’re a jujutsu sorcerer, even a grade 1. And then you get hit by a bullet this easily?

How pathetic.

It seems like the weight of your own body forces you to your knees, warmth spreading from your stomach over your lower body. Slowly but surely, the stabbing pain in your guts gets less noticeable, you have to fight desperately to keep your eyes from shutting.

Nanami…It’s not fair that you let him hang like this, hit by a random bullet on that random Wednesday. After all, you still had so much to tell him, experiences to share. What about the plans you’ve made earlier about finally asking him out? The words slip off your tongue with every passing second. No matter how hard every fiber of your being fights against the darkness, it proceeds to consume you.

“Goddamnit (y/n)”, Nanami hisses through gritted teeth when he finally reaches you.

“Yuji, take care of that man with the gun!”

“Hey, you can’t die on me today. Keep your eyes open for me, yeah? Don’t close them. Are you able to stand up?”

So much blood. The whole floor underneath you is covered in crimson, making it hard to breathe for Nanami. This shouldn’t have happened, he is fucking responsible for this, he should have kept his eyes open, he-

“I’m so sorry about leaving you hanging, Nanami”, you breathe out.

His heart sinks, hand frantically pressing against your gaping wound while his shaky fingers try to dial Shoko’s number on his phone.

“You won’t leave me today. I’m taking care of you. You’re safe with me.”

A weak smile forms itself on your tired lips as he speaks to Shoko on the phone in hushed tones. While everyone around him thinks he’s harsh and cold-hearted, you know that Nanami is in fact a tender man that puts the safety of others over himself without blinking. You always admired him for how he carries himself with so much class, looking cool while doing the most banal tasks.

“How is your pain level? Do you need anything? Shoko will be here in a minute, I promise”, he speaks to you in a calm but shaky voice.

“I don’t feel any pain. I just feel really really tired.”

Your eyes threaten to flutter shut again when Nanami’s thumb begins to caress your cheek gently.

“Everything will be alright, I promise (y/n)”, he softly murmurs.

You can tell by the way he looks down at you that he means what he says, the way his calm orbs glister making you tear up.

“I really wanted…to ask you out…tonight…”

Every word rolls off your tongue like a heavy stone while your mind seems to let you down.

“I would love that. Just stay with me, okay? Then I’ll invite you to dinner, I’ll even cook your favorite meal for you.”

“That sounds…wonderful…”

“But to do that, you’ll need to hold on for me a little longer, sweetheart. Focus on my voice, breathe with me”, he instructs you.

“Can you…hold me for a while?”

“Of course”, he replies without thinking, firm arms wrapping themselves around your shivering body instantly.

Megumi Fushiguro

Even though you feel like fainting, you don’t stop running behind him. Damn, that curse did really hit you where it hurts, your stabbed thigh feeling like it’s going to give up on you with every step you take.

“Did that curse hurt you?”, he shouts in your direction.

You should really tell him, you know you need help as soon as possible. But something inside you is too proud to open up. After all, the boy in front of you is none other Megumi Fushiguro. You can’t show him weakness, not in a million lifetimes.

“No”, you lie.

Just in time, you make it out of the building that collapses into itself behind you, a wave of rubble and ashes blowing over your head while you lay down, trying desperately not to groan. You press your hand against your thigh to somehow stop the pain, only to get greeted by the sickening sight of blood all over your hands. You swallow heavy, blood running between your fingertips.

“(y/n)? (y/n), where are you, oh, there you-“

Megumi stops in his tracks, eyes widen in horror when is gaze meets the flood of crimson that now covers the floor underneath you.

“You idiot, why did you lie to me?”, he hisses, instantly rushing to your side.

Oh god, there’s a gaping hole in your thigh – a gaping hole that runs like a waterfall. While you’re not that critically injured, the attack might have hit a crucial vein or artery. And that means you could in fact bleed out within the next few minutes if he doesn’t act right now.

Your toe-curling cry echoes through the barracks when Megumi presses his hand against your thigh with full force, making you see stars while a big lump forms in your throat.

“Serves you right. You should have told me that you’re hurt, you know that right? How many fingers?”

He holds up his other hand so close to your face that you can see nothing but his fingertips, a silent laughter escaping your blue colored lips.

“I’m serious (y/n)! Stop laughing and answer the question”, he grumbles.

“5”, you reply weakly.

“It’s two”, he murmurs, eyes scanning over your so worn-out looking face.

“You look rather pale.”

“Oh, I’m not feeling that great to be honest”, you mutter, ice cold sweat clamming to your skin.

He lets out his breath, gaze fixated on you. It seems like his anger fades away the more he looks at you, shivering uncontrollably while your eyes flutter open and shut all the time. Urgh, even though you’re suborn as hell, you absolutely don’t deserve to feel like this.

“Come on, stop acting up. You’ve had worse.”

You don’t reply. Instead, your hand grabs his arm, holding onto him for what feels like dear life as a single tear runs down your face. You hate to admit it, but you’re scared as hell. If feels like life is slipping through your fingers, seconds play before your eyes like a movie. This is the first time you’ve ever got injured like that. And even if Megumi tries to play it cool, you can tell by the way he scrunches his forehead that it’s looking anything but great.

“I just didn’t want you to think I’m weak”, you admit quietly.

His heart skips a beat, his features soften in an instant.

“Are you kidding? I’d never think you’re weak, (y/n). To be honest I’m surprised you haven’t fainted yet”, he remarks dryly.

To be honest he is surprised that he himself hasn’t fainted, considering all the flood that spills through his fingertips. But he has to be strong, he has to get through this with you.

“Pinky promise?”, you croak, holding up your shaky hand with all the strength that’s left in your body.

“Pinky promise”, Megumi whispers, intertwining his finger with your little one.

Toji Fushiguro

“Oooops my bad, that one should have normally killed you”, the man in front of you mumbles, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.

You shake in pure horror, pain rushing through your shoulder as you hold onto the gaping wound his bullet left in your sensitive skin.

“Please don’t kill me”, you weep, crawling backwards until your back hits the ice cold wall.

Spilling tears take your sight completely, you can’t help but burst into weeping without any mercy. Toji stares down at you, cold eyes surprised by your sight.

“I think I’ve never seen someone bawling this much. Did it really hurt that bad, huh?”

You stare at him through wet lashes, whole body on fire when his frame comes closer and closer. No, you need to run as fast as you can, away from this wicked place, out of his sight.

But instead, you sit still, glazed eyes fixated on his stunning features.

Roughly, he grabs your face, making you weep all over again.

“You’re actually quite cute…Maybe too cute to die…”

“Oh, come on sweet thing, stop crying for me will you?”

His thumb traces over your puffy cheeks, wipes away the trail of tears his bullet and the promise of death that’s threatening in his eyes left on your porcelain skin.

You can’t catch your breath, gasping for air like a fish on land with your hand still pressed against your aching shoulder.

“Sorry ‘bout that”, he mumbles, other hand reaching for your shoulder.

“Please don’t hurt me”, you cry out, flinching under his surprisingly gentle touch.

“I’m a man of honor, I’d never hurt you”, he replies with casual voice.

“Ahh, nothing too bad. A few kisses and you’re fine.”

You blink against the swell of tears, urgently trying to calm yourself down. Aching, fear and insecurity simply take your breath away. But the man in front of you…Despite looking so dangerous, it’s almost as if his face softened, as if he really means what he said.

“Now stop cryin’, ‘kay? I’m sorry ‘bout that shoulder of yours, thought you’re here to kill me or something.”

“I would never kill anyone”, you reply with shaky voice.

Why would you come here to kill him? All of this makes no sense to you. You just walked home from work, ready to take a bath and watch Netflix when all of the sudden, all this men came out of nowhere, dragging you along with him until the man in front of you killed them and shoot you.

“Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t princess. Just a misunderstanding.”

“It hurts”, you press out, a shocking wave of pain throbbing through your arm when you try to shift your weight.

“Wouldn’t do that if I was you. Let’s make a deal: I’ll get someone to stitch you up and you’ll spend the night with me, huh?”

Your doe eyes stare up at him in nothing but innocence. Oh, you truly know nothing about the cruel world around you, probably not even able to see curses. What a cute little thing you are, too good for the world around you and especially Toji himself. But he just can’t resist.

“And you’re really not going to kill me?”, you whine into his hand.

Gently, he wraps his fingertips around your chin.

“Of course not, princess. You’re way too precious to die”, he purrs.

Geto Suguru

You know that it’s stupid, that Geto is more than capable to look after himself. But the second a curse rushes his direction, you sprint forwards, shielding his body with your own.

Resulting in not only the teeth of the curse scratching your skin, but one of Geto’s curses hitting your head with full force.

You fall to the hard ground immediately, soul leaving your body behind. Instead of pain, you just feel numb, staring into the sound while the only thing that reminds you that you’re still alive is the growing ringing in your ears.

Geto’s heart drops the second you fall to the ground in front of him, naked fear crawling up his spine. No, no, no. This can’t be true. He didn’t just hit you full force, right? Instinctively, he falls to his knees besides you, grabbing your shoulders.

“Please tell be you’re alright, (y/n)”, he repeats over and over, hands holding onto you for dear life.

He knows you are tuff, that you can take a lot. But this…

Please don’t let it be too much.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you”, he mumbles, fingertips now gently stroking over your hair.

All you can do is stare into his brown eyes above you, body refusing its service completely. God, how absolutely stunning this man looks. Yes, it should be forbidden to look this good. Maybe you should ask him out when your mouth is working again, a nice date in a park or something. His facial features look so delicious that you want to let your hands glide along his jawline, just the way the other hand is doing right now.

“I would love to lick that”, you mutter so suffocated that Geto almost misses it.

Almost. Along with your fingertips that move up and down his jaw, his face reddens in an instant. What has gotten into you? Since when are you this flirty, this straightforward? You must’ve hit your head pretty badly.

“(y/n), I think you should see a doctor”, he suggests while awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

“I think I should see more of you, handsome”, you babble out.

“You hit your head pretty badly.”

“And your head is pretty.”

He signs. Although your sugary words make his heart hammer against his ribcage, he has to remind himself that you’re probably having a concussion - at least. At the moment, he can’t take your words seriously, no matter how hard he wants them to be true.

“Okay, I’ll call Shoko now. Do you feel alright? Does your head hurt? Does something else hurt? Please talk to me, (y/n).”

You smile at him widely, too mesmerized by the way that one strand of hair falls so effortlessly on his striking face.

“What a shame I never told you how beautiful you are”, you blurt out, fingertips grabbing nothing but air in an attempt to get a hold of his hair.

He can’t hold a small grin back. God, how are you doing that? Looking so fine with your arm ripped open by a curse and your eyes roaming around without an aim?

“Look, I’m not the brightest tool in the…toolbox.”

Geto raises an eyebrow in amusement at your creative phrase.

“But I…I mean it…Suguru…”, you mutter out his name.

“Let’s talk about this again when your head wasn’t hit by a curse shaped like a huge dragon, okay?”, he softly whispers, hand still stroking through your messy hair.

“Yeah…S-sure…” _____________________________________________________________ Now that you've made it this far

873 notes · View notes

solarlunarsstuff · 1 month

Note

hello 👀👀👀 may i request an alastor trying to woo lucifer's oldest daughter while the big boss of hell and charlie are watching 👀👀👀

thank you so much and have a wonderful day!!! ♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

YIPPEE !! A hazbin Hotel req ! I only watched around 4-5 episodes of the newest show so it might not be accurate ! Enjoy :) !

Alastor x Fem!Reader (FANFIC)

A/n: He might be a little bit obsessed with you, but don't worry, he'll make you quiet if he has to force it. (HUSKERDUST 4 LIFEEEEE)

TW: Fingering, READER IS A HOOKER !!!, semi-public, getting caught, his horn thingies grow, tongue fucking, getting eaten out, dry humping, pet names (slut, whore, baby, doll, ect), you look a little bit like Charlie, dirty talk, nipple play, messy make-outs, overestimating, and edging. Lmk if I missed anything ! 😙

Synopsis: Alastor, the 7'3 radio demon, the overlord of a lot of land in hell. Even though he's shown no sign of wanting to experience intimacy, he can change that rule...

The first daughter of the big boss of hell.

That was your title, ever since you were born. Later on though, you had gotten a little sister.

Charlie Morningstar.

She was a big ray of sunshine despite being born in this hellish place. You loved her, you really did.

The both of you nearly look the same. You did dye your hair to (F/c) so there is quite a difference. You're about 6'9, a few inches taller than her.

You also held that wicked smile from your father, typical.

Anyway, you were in the middle of cleaning your apartment when you heard a knock on your door and the sound of paper falling onto the floor.

You thought it was those stupid kids on floor 4 playing games again, but it wasn't. Turned out to be a letter, signed by... your younger sister?

Of course, having nothing else to do, you ripped it open with your nails and unfolded the neat paper.

It read,

'My dear sister, I know we don't talk much anymore, but I would love it if you paid a visit to the hotel! I also know you probably don't have a job, but dad wanted to see you too. He had just come to the hotel about an hour ago. He was basically pleading to see your pretty face again! So, please, think of this and get back to me as soon as possible.

XOXO, Charlie'

You always loved the way that she signed letters. She's been sending you letters with her sign off like that for years now.

Either way, you sat on your couch, contemplating if you should just go or not.

"Fuck it..." You thought out loud

Choosing something comfortable and not something you wore while hooking up.

Oh, right... You're a hooker. It's a job that's actually nicely paid, paid enough for food and your bills. That's it, that's what you were worried about.

What if one of your clients worked there? What of your dad and sister find out?

One client stood out to you though, what was his name? Did it start with an 'A'? Either way, he was one of those people who would choose a hooker and later on be actually interested.

You? Never, it would ruin your job reputation, not wanting to let your job go, you kindly refused, and he went on with his life.

Until you have gotten various notes from someone, some of them were wholesome? In a way, like, "I miss you" or "Just give me a chance".

Others... others were sort of... sexual... For example, "My cock aches for you" and they even sent a paper that had been covered in lipstick kisses.

But it wasn't lips. It was, uhm, you get the idea. He might have been a little bit crazy for you, but it stopped a couple of years ago.

Maybe he realized that I wasn't interested in something serious? You still thought about it as you took the taxi to the front street of the hotel.

You thanked the driver, but instead of him saying your welcome...

"How about I give you a ten? You know, for your pretty body?" He grinned

"No thanks, you don't seem like the type that I would bother with. Plus, that 10 won't even cover 20 minutes.." You snarled back

He whispered some slur under his breath but drove off anyway.

"People think they can just ask me for -" you stumbled back as you ran into something, more like someone...

Red vest, big deer ears, a staff...

'Oh shit..' You thought to yourself

Maybe he won't remember you?

"Back for round two, love?" He grinned maliciously

'God fucking dammit..' you looked up seeing that stupid radio demon overlord.

"No, I'm not, you sick fuck. I'm here to see my little sister.." You moved around him and continued to walk towards the hotel.

"Ahh, that's why I thought you looked familiar.." his voice had a hint of static to it.

You stayed silent and opened the doors, your sister turned around to see who it was.

"Alastor, I said that you -" she stopped once she saw you.

'That's what his name was...' You smiled a little at how your sister nearly knocked you over as she came and wrapped her arms around you.

"OH MY GOD, Y/N, YOU CAMEE!!!" She jumped up and down while hugging the shit out of you.

"Hah, yep, it's me!" You awkwardly hugged her back, noticing your father talking to the other workers on the lobby couches.

Lucifer turned from the sound of your voice and did the same thing as Charlie.

"MY SWEET GIRL!" He squealed

"Hey, dad." I sighed as he also hugged me

Charlie's personality was mostly taken by your father's side while you to your mother's.

Not really knowing your mom, but you knew you had almost the same personality. The little family bonding was broken by the voice of presumed 'Alastor'.

"Y/n, was it? Pleasure to meet you!~" As if... This fucker is acting as if you've never met before.

"Right..." You went along with it, about to shake his hand, but almost forgot that he is an overlord of souls.

You just smiled lightly at him, seemed like it was the safest option.

[1 hour later]

Nifty was off somewhere cleaning, Angeldust was flirting with Husk, Lucifer and Charlie were laughing at something stupid. And you, you were just sitting on the end of the couch, sipping on your (F/d).

Everything was going lovely until you heard a little bit of static start to form behind you. Everybody else didn't seem to notice, but you did. While turning around, you saw that dumb fucks face.

"Darling, tell me.. Do you like me for the money? Or for how your pretty walls wrapped around my d-" you instantly cut him off, not wanting anybody to hear.

"Shut the fuck up..." You glared at him

He smuggly smiled and sat next to you, squishing you between the armrest and him.

"Could you move-" Your voice stopped in your throat when his hand landed on your thigh.

Alastor kept his hand there, slightly rubbing his hand closer to your cunt.

He paid no mind to your silent pleas. Instead, he started talking with Husk and Angeldust. Thank the gods you were in a blindspot, or everybody would've seen Alastor touching you up.

His hand swiftly slipped into your shorts, rubbing your dampened panties from the outside.

You started to softly buck your hips into his fingers, wanting to gain friction. As if it was obvious, he stopped, grinning from you silently whining.

"Are you okay?" Your father, Lucifer, asked. He noticed how you were twitching.

"Mhm!" Was all you could muster as Alastor started to pump his fingers again.

Your arm flared out, gripping his shoulder. "A-alastor... You..." You couldn't speak for shit.

"Please let me and Miss Y/N excuse ourselves!" Alastor announced to the group.

Before you could speak up, he dragged you a few feet around the corner. "What the fuck-" he cut you off by forcing his lips onto yours.

"You're going to shut the fuck up and take me right here..." He pulled away slightly before diving back in.

A/N: I'm gonna edge yall since I want this to be done before school starts tm!! :3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin x reader #hazbin lucifer #lucifer morningstar #charlie morningstar #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor smut #smut #hazbin hotel smut

280 notes · View notes

sluttywonwoo · 1 year

Text

pairing: joshua hong x fem!reader (ft. ex bf!kim sunwoo)

summary: you should’ve told your boyfriend the truth about that stranger at the grocery store. inspired by an audio by @/aas on quinn (iykyk)

word count: 1.7k

warnings: swearing, heavy jealousy (maybe a lil toxic lol), possessiveness, smut (18+ mdni), oral (f receiving), spit kink, orgasm control, unprotected sex

a/n: this is my formal apology to kim sunwoo, nothing personal buddy

masterlist

“what was your favorite position when you were together?”

“w-what?”

“you heard me,” joshua says, folding his arms across his broad chest. “what was your favorite position with him? the one you guys did the most?”

“shua-”

“just answer the goddamn question.”

it feels like a trap.

and in a way, it is. what answer could your boyfriend possibly be looking for?

all because you ran into your ex-boyfriend at the grocery store. things hadn’t ended on a particularly good note with sunwoo, but it had been years since then so you figured there was no harm in making small talk with him while you both waited in line to order subs. you had been wrong.

joshua had finished his half of the shopping and joined you in line, immediately catching on to the way the dude was hanging on to every word you said.

must be one of the guys from her cohort, he thought to himself. cute.

he wrapped an arm around your waist and took your basket to hold while you waited together, making note of the stranger’s reactions to his possessive little display. he didn’t want to overdo it since you weren’t a big fan of pda and the guy seemed relatively harmless but he also didn’t want to let him think he had a chance.

you made no move to introduce the two to each other so joshua just played along, joining in on the conversation with you and whoever you were talking to like he’d known the guy for years.

he assumed you’d tell him who he was in the car. you don’t. he has to be the one to ask.

“so who was that?” he tries to sound casual about it but he’s sure the coldness in his voice gives him away.

“hm?”

“in publix? the guy we were just talking to?”

“oh. that was sunwoo.”

sunwoo. the name sounds familiar. then it clicks.

“kim sunwoo? your sunwoo?”

you sink down in your seat at the way he says ‘your sunwoo’ but joshua doesn’t let up.

“we were just talking to your ex-boyfriend in there? and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“how was i supposed to tell you?” you counter defensively. “it’s not like i can just say that right in front of him!”

“sure you can! at the very least you could have introduced us to each other. i would’ve caught on to his name.”

“that’s exactly why i didn’t,” you mumble.

“what? what do you mean?”

“i didn’t tell you who he was because i knew you’d get all… jealous like this.”

“i’m not jealous!” joshua scoffs, painfully self-aware of just how jealous he sounds. “i just… can’t believe you let me be all buddy-buddy with the guy. i laughed at his jokes! i smiled politely at him!”

“as opposed to what, scowling menacingly?” you mutter.

“something like that.”

sunwoo is the only other serious partner you’ve ever had. the only one you had lived with other than joshua. the one who came right before joshua.

joshua knows he’s acting unreasonably. you’re with him now. you’re happy with him, you love him, and that’s all that should matter. he knows you’re not about to go running off to your ex. so why does he feel so goddamn jealous pissed off?

joshua drags you to the bedroom soon as the groceries are unpacked and in their respective spots in either the fridge or the pantry. your sandwiches are left forgotten on the kitchen counter as he yanks your clothes off and kneels on the floor in front of you.

he makes you cum on his tongue before he says another word to you, trying to drown himself in you as you ride his face. when your legs start to tremble, he lays you down on the edge of the bed and finishes you off like that, not wanting a repeat incident of what had happened in the shower a couple months ago.

“i’m sorry,” you apologize breathlessly afterward, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. “i should have told you who he was in the store.”

joshua brushes it off. “it’s okay, baby.”

you shake your head. “it’s not. i should have thought about how it would make you feel.”

joshua sighs, spreading your legs again so that he can slot himself in between them and lay on top of you. he doesn’t feel like having this conversation right now, feels like he can’t think rationally when he’s like… this. hard and jealous and angry with you. he needs to clear his head. and to do that—

he asks the question. the one that has you staring up at him with those big wide eyes of yours.

“are you going to make me ask you again?”

you shake your head vigorously. “um, no. it was- we… missionary.”

joshua raises an eyebrow, subtly amused by your answer. “really?”

“mhm, but like with my ankles crossed behind his back? i don’t think it technically counts as a mating press but-”

“i’ve heard enough.”

“sorry.”

to be fair, he had asked. he just hasn’t expected you to go into detail about it. he walked right into that one.

the mental image of another man, of sunwoo between your legs, kissing your neck, getting you to moan his name, is enough to send joshua into a mini spiral but he doesn’t let himself dwell on it.

“scoot up a little,” he tells you as he grabs a pillow from the top of the bed. “lift your hips.”

he slides the pillow underneath you with one hand and unbuckles his belt with the other, ignoring the way you whimper and reach for his pants. he doesn’t give you the satisfaction of undressing him, instead doing it himself while you sit there and watch with a pout.

he doesn’t drag it out even though he’s tempted to. he wants to tease you, make you whine and beg for his cock. but he needs to feel you, needs to be inside of you right this fucking instant.

he’s on top of you as soon as he gets his boxers off, running his hands along your thighs as he lines himself up.

“ready, baby?”

you nod.

“words, my love. you know i need words.”

“yes, yes i’m ready,” you assure him with an impatient wiggle of your hips.

“good girl. think you can wrap your legs around my waist for me?”

you frown up and cock your head to the side. he wasn’t trying to be discreet, but he still feels a bit sheepish that you’ve caught on.

“shua, what is this about?”

he sighs. “i’m trying to prove a point here. c’mon, squeeze your thighs around me.”

“you know you have nothing to prove though, right?” you press. “you’re the best i’ve ever been with. i mean yeah the sex with him was good but it was nowhere near-”

“baby, please,” joshua practically begs, unable to stand hearing any more about your ex-boyfriend fucking you (even though, again, he was the one to bring it up). “let me do this?”

“right, sorry.”

joshua smirks and leans down to kiss you again, feeling himself twitch against your thigh when you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue. he pulls away after another moment or so and slaps his cock against your cunt a couple of times, making you whimper pitifully in the back of your throat.

then, he lets go of himself and brings his hand to your mouth.

“spit.”

you do, right into the palm of his hand, and joshua uses the saliva to lubricate the length of his cock before pushing the tip inside of you.

you’d been watching him the whole time but as soon as he starts filling you up you let your head fall back onto the mattress with a quiet “fuck”.

“you’re so fucking wet,” joshua groans.

he goes slowly for his own sake. you feel too good, too perfect, for him to risk going any faster. he can’t cum yet, not when he’s just bottomed out, not after talking such a big game.

“god, i don’t think i’ve ever seen you this wet before. you’re making a mess, baby. was it all me, or was it him?”

“you… you-you’re hot when you’re jealous,” you say as way of explanation, making joshua laugh.

“maybe i am jealous,” he admits as he begins to move his hips. “is that really what’s gotten you all worked up?”

“mhm…”

“it is? it isn’t all those memories you have with him? of him doing this to you?”

your eyes go wide and you shake your head adamantly, like you can’t even believe he’d suggest that. admittedly, it was a little fucked up of joshua to say and he knows that, but the way you clench around him when he says it only spurs him on.

“‘m not thinking about him, i promise! i would n-never!”

he wraps a hand around your throat. “good. because you’re all mine now. isn’t that right?”

“yes! just yours, only yours.”

“that’s my girl. open.”

he spits into your mouth when you part your lips and stick out your tongue for him, clenching around him even harder when he does.

“i wanna cum,” you whine.

“already? but we’ve barely started.”

“i know… feels too good.”

“hold on a little longer for me, okay?”

“i can’t,” you gasp, squeezing your eyes shut as if you’d be able to last longer by simply willing the orgasm away.

“don’t,” joshua warns, “you better not-”

you’re cumming as soon as the words leave his mouth. you’d tried your best to hold off but it was no use. the deck was stacked against you from the very beginning.

joshua isn’t mean enough to ruin the orgasm for you so he fucks you through it as you mumble out a string of apologies mixed in with you begging him not to stop.

he’s quite pleased with himself under the transparent guise of being disappointed with you for not following his instructions. he’s almost positive no one’s been able to make you cum that fast before. or that hard. and if they have… he doesn’t need to know.

“oh baby,” he coos condescendingly, wiping the tears that had fallen onto your cheeks with his thumb. “did that feel good?” you nod shyly like you’re not sure whether or not it’s a trick question. “i bet you’re really sensitive now, huh?” another nod. “that’s too bad, angel. because i am nowhere near done with you.”

literally could not stop thinking ab this concept when i heard it 🥴😵‍💫 but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

forever tags: @haven-cove @tantofaz123-blog @lee-hjyjn @ateez-star @baesgyus @likexaxdaydream @sunniesoobin @thefairwhitelight @pretty-thoughts @yutayoongi @redamancygnf @hoe4wonwoo @yeostars @i-might-be-in-love-with-hao @camrenrodrigoswift1 @nichobins @bfwonu @arikimtanapon @ammcg0119 @redspider267 @fwess @horangipowerr @soobzao @kuleo26 @k00kiemonster99 @poutypoutybin @jeonghanspinkhair @jadiekinzz @yo0nspoon @djj6112 @drama-1998-girl @kjdlashes @5xiang @yeritheloml @slut4seokjin @nc-teen @jungkookswife24069 @tannieflix @romromthedeer @urvashi435 @aurumness @sunghoonth @y00nzin0 @saatans @ksy-horanghae @haogyuslut @crushonwoo @rinshabitat @ivivz @cixrosie @princessofallthatsweird @friseealamode @candidupped @joshuahongnumbers @bxby-bloom @guavagyu @zhangyixingxing1 @foxdaisy @emotionalwreckkk @imonanotherlebel @vern0nsworld @cyjsfairy @jihoonliker @freakyfriedrice @yeosayang @myaerii @lenireads @itbtoblikethatsometimes @vernonburger @soonhoonietrash @tinkerbell460 @shmooooo @tweetiebirb @sluttywoozi

add yourself to my taglist(s) here!!

#one-up #seventeen smut #svt smut #joshua smut #joshua hong smut #seventeen x trader #svt x trader #joshua hong x trader #joshua hong x female!reader

2K notes · View notes

daenysx · 11 months

Text

yes, turns out i love writing soft!daryl with lots and lots of praises. this is also my first try of smut with daryl, and it would be perfect if you tell me what you think! hope you enjoy!!

era: prison

my masterlist

fake pouting on a pretty face

daryl dixon can't say no to you. morning sex. nsfw.

"yer such a sweet baby, hmm?"

he kisses your pouting lips. he is aware of the fact that you literally turned him into a touch starved man, he always craves physical affection now. from you.

"i'm just saying that you should stay here with me instead of going out like literally 2 hours early."

he kisses you again and this time you don't break the kiss. your lips stay on his until the lack of air becomes painful. your fingers draw little circles on his neck and he holds your waist, pins you to your bed.

"fine. 'm stayin'."

you chuckle. "i knew you wouldn't resist my charm, dixon."

he hums quietly. "if 'm not leavin' i should make it worth, don't ya think?"

you nod. "mm-hmm. yes, please."

"lemme take this off. lift yer arms, baby."

he takes off your shirt and you make yourself comfortable under him.

he smiles at your comfort under him, you wait for his next move patiently and bite your lip. he cups your cheek and pulls your lip from your teeth. you kiss his palm, give him a little smile.

he kisses your neck, your pulse point, and your chest. your breathing quickens when you feel his tongue on your nipple and he looks at your blushing face.

"eager, hmm?"

you exhale slowly. "a little."

"a little? sweet thing."

you blush even more with his words. ever since he discovered how you react when he talks to you with sweet words full of praises, he tells you more of them. you are too good to him, too pretty and adorable, the only thing that keeps his world bright.

he kisses your belly, and his hands reach for your thighs to part them. he looks like a starved man as he sees the slight wetness on your panties.

"lift yer hips, c'mon baby."

you are completely naked under his gaze right now. his eyes have the expression of desire and love. he gives you a comforting look before he leans in between your thighs and presses a tempting kiss on your clit.

you know how he loves to give you pleasure with his mouth and you adore him when he acts so attentive. this morning is no different, he opens his mouth and curls his lips around your swollen clit. he sucks it, holds your thighs with his big hands to keep you still.

you can't help your little sounds, bite your lips to prevent yourself from moaning his name loudly. you don't want to disturb people in other cells, and daryl knows that. he wouldn't want anyone else to hear you as well. these sounds, they are all for him. he is the only one meant to hear them and he loves it. he loves the feeling of being special.

he is determined to make you come on his tongue first. he keeps moving his tongue everywhere, and when he pushes his mouth to your entrance you nearly weep. he feels himself getting harder and rubs his cock on the sheets for a little relief by moving his hips as he eats you out.

you grab his wrists and arch your back slowly. the orgasm is intense, your brain is all clear and your muscles relaxed. he licks the remnants of your release and looks at you proudly. your breathing sounds fill the cell, he presses kisses on your thighs as he gets on his knees on bed.

"yer perfect, you know tha'?"

he licks his lips and looks at your blushed face. you bring your hands on his chest and his abdomen, feeling the toned muscles there. his cock is too hard now, it almost hurts. it rests against his stomach and you brush your fingers on it lightly. your thumb strokes the tip and he curses silently.

"i want you, daryl. come on, now."

you try to make him go inside you, feeling him deep inside always felt good and it brings you a good kind of comfort. you love how hard he feels inside and how straining it is to take him fully. you love his groans as he tries to go slow to not hurt you and his warm exhales when he reaches deep.

he shakes his head thoughtfully. "my fingers first, sweet girl. don' wanna hurt ya."

he strokes your clit first, then moves his fingers to your entrance. just his forefinger and your muscles clench around him. he loves how responsive you are and always tries to take his time to prepare you, never wants to hurt you. when he makes sure you're alright, he adds a second finger and encourages you to relax around him.

you can't take it anymore, desperately want him to start moving inside you with his cock. you pull him to yourself, kiss his lips to silence yourself and hold onto his strong arms for your balance.

"come on, i want it, please."

he adjusts himself to your entrance after he takes his fingers off you and starts pushing himself slowly.

"good girl. good fuckin' girl."

you bring his hand on your mouth to not being too loud. he holds your waist with his free hand, tries to settle down and stay inside your tight warmth.

he can already feel his orgasm close with your arching waist and clenching muscles. he moves slowly, too cautious to not hurt you. when you push yourself to him for a little friction, he tries to keep the pace slow and powerful.

"shh, don' want ya to be sore, baby."

you look deep into his eyes. "i'll be fine, daryl. i just want more."

he looks at you with a bright smile now. "sweet little baby, tha' not enough for ya, hmm? yer takin' me so well, such a good girl."

he moves harder now, not too fast but he knows what he's doing. you wrap your arms around his neck, kiss his lips as he moves his hips deeper into you.

"mm-hmm. your good girl." you say, breathless.

"yeah, my good girl."

he keeps thrusting until it becomes too much, when he feels you're close he moves faster and you hold onto him once more.

you melt under him as his cock hits deep inside you. your little moans become quick breathes and you come for the second time since you woke up in his arms.

he is already close but your orgasm gives him a perfect timing to finish. he uses his last piece of strength and pulls himself to come on your belly. he knows he should be careful and even when it feels too tempting to come inside you, he forces himself to fight the urge.

he puts his head on your chest when his cock softens. you hold him, caressing his hair and helping him to live the perfect moments of post-orgasm. he lifts his head to look at your pretty face with a smile on his lips. his eyes hold too many emotions all at the same time.

he lays on his side and pulls you to his chest. staying here with you instead of going on a early hunt is the greatest decision but he will not tell you that. still, the fact that you both have to leave the bed pains him, all he wants is to stay here as long as he can, hold you in his arms, safe and protected by him from all the shit out there.

your cell is brighter now with the morning light. he kisses you on your forehead, on your nose, on your lips, and on your chin. your legs are entangled with his, and you are safe here. you love the feeling of safety when he's with you.

"c'mon sunshine, don' sleep on me now. we gotta get up soon."

you have a fake pout on your face, he fucking loves it. "you make it too hard. just- a little more, okay?"

he nods, refuses to say no to you when you're so sweet. "a little more."

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x reader #twd daryl #daryl x you #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead imagine

902 notes · View notes

bigfatbimbo · 1 month

Note

I’m going to miss you when you stop posting hazbin content:( I wish you well once you’re gone! Thought you might like some boycunt Vox material so,, here’s some of that.

Just boycunt Vox being a loud ass bitch while you eat him out! Oh and blue Gatorade pussy Yummy

Smut Ahead!!

Vox was always quite the loud one. Loud about his pride, loud about his facade dominance, but most importantly, loud in the bedroom. Especially in this moment, your head in between his quivering thighs as you mercilessly eat his weeping cunt out. He can’t help but to let out the loudest whines possible, moaning and whimpering for you. He didn’t know what he was moaning and whimpering about; all he knew that it was for you. For you to continue ravaging him, perhaps. To continue tongue-fucking his pussy until a citywide blackout was caused once again. He can’t even remember how many times he’s reached orgasm, creaming and squirting all over your face while he cries out your name. It is shocking that he is still able to continue even after all of the time that has passed.

“F—fuck, i c—can’t cum-mmmm any-anymore…—zzz…” He glitches out, a sob escaping his throat once he feels yet another orgasm slowly but surely approaching. It feels as if he’s been overstimulated for years upon years while your tongue works wonders on his cunt. It feels so good, yet he feels like he cannot take anymore at the same time. But, he does take more, because he can’t handle the way that his lust overdrives the fact that he just cannot take it anymore. He loves the way you overstimulate him while working your tongue on him. “M—mmoree, fuuuuuuckkkk..” He whines aloud, hips bucking up into your mouth. He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. He just needs you.

You peek your head up at him for a mere moment, face and chin covered in his sweet juices, tasting like blue Gatorade. You lick around your lips and the outer-ring of your lips as well, grinning up at Vox smugly. “Say please,” you demand. He merely whimpers at your demand. Underneath his breath, he mutters out a weak “please”, which is shocking due to him usually being a dumb brat. But he has reached a slight subspace, where he only wants your praise and nothing more. It’s a surprise that he isn’t completely non-verbal.. yet. Satisfied, you dive your tongue deep inside his cunt once more, making him let out a guttural yell, his thighs closing around your head again and his legs quivering heavily. He’s very sensitive, especially when he has his cock switched out for a cunt.

Vox, slowly, reaches out for your hand and holds onto it tightly. He goes into a full subspace, his mind cloudy, only thinking about the feeling of your tongue inside his cunt. He can’t muster up a coherent word, instead allowing his whines and whimpers to take up the majority of the sounds inside of the room. He’s damn lucky that his room is soundproof. Otherwise, he would be humiliated with everyone knowing about him getting dominated and getting his pussy eaten out. His whines and whimpers are like a beautiful song to your ears, nothing that could be topped by any other noise in the world. “Mmmm—-zzzz—-mmphhhh…” He lets out a whine turned into a yell once he squirts all over your face once more, tears welling up in his eyes for the 20th time that night.

But even after that, he still feels your tongue working on him, making him whimper. Well, he asked for more, so he’s getting what he wanted.

yahoo you made it to the end!

Hopefully this was alright! Taking more English lessons so yay:) also, I’ve been thinking about releasing my own fics for a while now. Not sure if I should do so butttttt eh whatevs

LAST POST BEFORE I PASS OUT BUT MMFJKFJMDMDMDMMMMMMMM

This was absolutely delicious. I swear I love getting things like this in my inbox. Your lovely and you grace the world with you boycunt Vox content.

SWEET DREAMS FOLKS.

#this was actually so good #like yes absolutely i love it omfffgggg #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel x reader #dom reader #hazbin hotel smut #vox x reader #inbox open #sub vox

321 notes · View notes

quimichi · 2 months

Note

I Read Your Twisted Wonderland 'When You Wake Him Up With Nonsense" and Wanted To Ask If We Can Get One With The Staff(With Staff!Reader) and RSA(With RSA!Reader)? 🥺

Feel Free To Ignore😭

Love You❤️ And Have a Great Day!

"=⌕ YOU WAKE HIM UP WITH NONSENSE / pt. 2

⌕ pt. 1 here

warnings: bad writing, as usual, some characters may seem ooc, I apologize, pet names, some might dislike those

summary: You wake him up in the middle of the night with some nonsense

characters: RSA, NRC Staff and Rollo x GN!Reader

word count: 1,995

a/n: some are shorter or longer, it's just that I find some characters hard to write or I write them like I view them :) I HOPE YOU ALSO HAVE A VEEEERY NICE DAY TOO!

Chenya

The sound of your voice draws his attention to you. His breath hitches as he tries to stay asleep. He does not respond, instead he remains still as a statue. It is as if he wants to hear every word you have to say. And he wants to keep sleeping.

"Chenya, Chenya, Chenya, Chenya...Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker." Your voice cuts through the quiet. Your words pull him out of a dream.

He opens his eyes, and he looks straight at you and whines. "Why you gotta pull my full naaaaame...jus' wanna sleeeep..." "Yesterday I saw a motorcycle on the sun kissing the curtains in a cow." He blinks, utterly baffled by your words. His brow furrows and he is at a complete loss with how to respond. Finally, he settles on a simple and tired, "Wha-?" "What I said." You are utterly illogical. It makes it nearly impossible for him to comprehend you.

Your mind is fascinating, weird. You're fucking dumb sometimes.

His lips twitch upwards. That's why he loves you.

"You make no sense, ya know." He signs hard, rubbing his eyes. "And ya woke me up for that bullshit...you gotta pay me back, you better."

Neige

The sound of your voice is so familiar, and the words hit him like a wave of cool air while he's asleep. His body shifts as he starts to respond in the depths of his sleep.

"Wha-" He starts to say, his words faltering on the cusp of waking. "Cutie are you...is everything okay?" he asks groggily, a bit of sleep still clinging to him. If he could blush in his slumber, he would have been scarlet in shame for how his words slurred and garbled on his tongue. He slowly sits up, looking more worried than ever.

"I just saw a chicken picking up McDonald's at the gas station for detention." The words catch him off-guard once more, and he stares at you with a small confused smile on his face. He tries to process what you've said, but finds it impossible without more explanation.

His mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, and he tilts his head to the side, looking way to adorable for his own good. His confusion soon gives way to a brief chuckle, and he smiles widely and nods, still processing your words.

"That's such a nice story!...You should tell me the ending tomorrow though..." and with that he pulls you back against him and pets your head gently before both of you fall back asleep. He's still confused tho...

Rollo

He begins to stir, slowly waking to consciousness. His eyes dart around the room, his vision blurred and unfocused as he sits up. "Mmm, yes?" Rollo could never be mad if you woken him up for a reason, a good reason.

"I forgot to tell you that the telephone told me about the flying elephant with rainbow eyes and silver shoes." Rollo raises one eyebrow at first, thinking you're playing a trick on him. The joke is too outlandish to be real. Even this is to stupid for you.

But seeing that you're serious, he has no idea what to say. He is speechless. Oh...so you are that dumb huh? At this point the lord can't save him anymore.

"Is...that so?" he finally asks. "Yes!" Rollo stares at you incredulously as you continue. Every detail you describe is nonsensical and unrealistic. But his gaze remains firmly fixed on yours, and his thoughts are blank.

He struggles to understand why you woke him up. Is this a game? He is utterly puzzled. And his annoyance is starting to seep in. But the look in your eyes is magnetic, and it is difficult for him to hold his frustration. He sighs, "You...you are truly one of a kind, are you aware of that?" But Rollo can't help but smile at you, you just had to turn his life upside down, huh?

Crowley

He stirs slightly, his eyes blinking slowly open. He opens his mouth to speak, but then he realizes you are next to him and closes it again. His expression is soft and delicate, like your presence is a beacon of light in the darkness, and all he can focus on is you. You'd be surprised, moments of his adoration aren't that rare.

"What is it?" he asks with a slight yawn, his voice still soft and sleepy. "So like, I cooked us a clock with sprinkles of snow and the clock then when away with the pan because of their date at the baseball doctor." In spite of his tired mood, he bursts into laughter. A hearty, full-bellied laugh that only he would be so amused by such ridiculous, nonsensical statements.

"Ah, my love. It seems you have discovered the wonders of a dream," the headmaster chuckles, running his fingers curiously through your hair. For a moment he ponders about what other kinds of nonsense you would utter, if this is what your brain conjures just during your sleep.

He chuckles again in amusement. "Do go on," he encourages you, still looking through you with a light in his eyes. "Did the clock turn into a frog? Did the frog wear green boots and sing rock songs in kitchen utensils?" He's amused, but he also wants to know.

Crewel

As you call to him, you can see his eyelids twitch underneath. Your voice seems to permeate his dreams. There is no immediate answer as his eyes flutter in a way that seems to indicate that he's trying to force himself awake but still struggles to do so. He turns onto his back, his head tilting towards the sound of your voice. After a moment, he finally manages to open his eyes with a low groan. His hand reaches for his forehead and rubs it, as though he's suffered from a particularly intense headache. But once he sees you, he stops, his eyes brightening at the sight of your face.

All the weariness seems to leave him in an instance, yet not entirely. He manages a smile for you. "Puppy?..." "I just ate a singing pizza who told me the story of the bees and the snakes who danced underwater." "Ah..." Divus manages a confused hum. It takes him a moment as he seems to try and work it out in his head.

"They danced in...underwater?" He asks, voice soft. "Underwater...is a body of water...but...how does one..." he looks away from you as he attempts to picture the scenario. After a moment, he shakes his head, chuckling softly into his palm. "No matter. That is quite a tale, indeed my pup."

Divus draws you close and wraps his arms around you, burying his face into your shoulder and hugging you tightly. His breath is hot against your neck, his muscles tensing underneath. "Sleep..." he mumbles softly, his voice seeming to get thicker as a low growl rumbles from his chest.

"Or does my pup want to keep being disobedient?"

Trein

(Solid grandpa issues ya'll have here)

It is almost as you say his name that his eyes blink quickly. They become wide and concerned. "Dearest?" he whispers with a hint of urgency in his voice. Though his expression turns gentle as he notices you aren't hurt or sick. His shoulders relax. "Yuu, have you not been feeling well?" Mozus asks, his voice a soothing melody. After a moment, he sits up. The bed creaks with the weight of his shifting body. Even Lucius wakes up from his slumber to tip tap his way over to your shared bed.

"Did you perhaps catch a cold? I could fetch some medicine if you would like." He doesn't want to see you in pain, not even for a moment. Oh, how caring he can be sometimes..."My hair turned purple because I washed it with dirt in the afternoon 13 years ago on a full red moon at midnight."

Silence hangs in the air as you speak. Mozus's expression remains concerned; worried. And then it turns into a frown. "Ah... You must've hit your head. Or else you wouldn't speak of such nonsense" he says. Though he tries to conceal it, a flicker of irritation flashes across his eyes. Your sudden statements seem to have sparked his annoyance.

"Or are you perhaps playing a childish prank on me at unholy hours?" he asks sharply, tone becoming stern. "If there is nothing else you require, I believe you've wasted enough of your time together." He tries to keep his voice neutral, but is obviously still slightly peeved at your game. "I-Im sorry..." His anger melts at your apology. His face melts back to a soft expression as he pulls you into his arms. His voice returns to its soothing tone as he presses his lips to yours.

When he pulls away, only seconds later, there's a content smile on to his lips. "Do not apologize," he says softly, voice quiet. Yet you feel a surge of pleasure run through your body. You feel almost as light as a feather once again. "I'm happy you're in best condition."

Vargas

Ashton jolts awake as he hears your voice, immediately rising into a defensive stance as he looks at you. Protectively he stands before the bed frantically looking around for potential danger with both his fists up, ready to punch whatever lurks in your shared bedroom.

"It's okay! Is there something wrong? Are you hurt?!" he asks anxiously but wild as he still holds his position. "Wha--no?!" He reacted so fast you couldn't keep up. "Oh...!" Asthon blinks a few times as he seems to calm himself. He lowers his fists, though now he seems completely at a loss for words. He stares at you blankly.

"That is good," he clears his throat, clearly embarrassed about the situation, "very good, yes " he offers a small smile, though you can sense him struggling to gather himself. "...so I woke up because the curtains were running away from a wild toaster." Ashton blinks a few times, processing this information. He seems to ponder it for a moment and then... bursts out into laughter.

It's a loud sound, like a true suburban father laugh. It's a sound of complete delight. Though, it doesn't take him too much effort to bring himself back. "Ah... yes," he says, "Wild toasters. They are very problematic." He lets himself sink into bed again, and like before, you're to slow to react. Because the moment his head hits the pillow, he's gone. Snoring the night away...

Sam

"Hm?" The mighty lord stirs in his sleep. He pulls the sheets tighter around him, his body twitching in his sleep. The sound of his name being uttered by you seems to have broken through his slumber. "Wake uuuup~!" "Hm?" Sam finally looks up at you, his eyes barely open. They seem to focus on you, taking a moment to adjust to the darkness of the room before he finally smiles. "Impy...?" He speaks in the softest of whispers, his voice almost hoarse as though it had been a while. "Did my friends wakw you...or...was it my snoring?"

"My shampoo ran out cause the towel used it for their skincare routine." "Ah..." He sits up, his expression still weary from sleep. Before you can even tell him to stop, he's already risen from the bed. He's practically half-asleep as he waddles towards the shop and comes back with a bottle of shampoo in hand.

He doesn't question you or the strange request at all. "There you go," he holds up a bottle of shampoo. "Only the best for my little imp, and since its you...its on the house" he says, although he looks like he's in a trance he does smirk at you.

"Thank...you?" You question as you take the bottle from his hands. Before you know it he drops face first into bed, "But...if ya need anythin' else...get it yourself...alright?" he mumbles into the pillow.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland headcanon #twisted wonderland x reader #chenya x reader #neige x reader #rollo x reader #crowley x reader #crewel x reader #trein x reader #vargas x reader #sam x reader #nrc staff #Ncr staff x reader

390 notes · View notes

hiraya-rawr · 2 years

Text

🩸 — bloodsucker .

synopsis !! your friend is a hungry vampire

characters !! diluc, thoma, zhongli

contains !! gn reader. preferably mature audience. bloody (ofc, it's a vampire fic). slight prey/predator themes? platonic/romantic intimacy! // crack (diluc) // angst (thoma) // horror (zhongli)

note !! yay! yay! a fic after so long! it's been a while since i've written so it may seem a bit wonky, i still hope you'll like it!

🩸 — diluc .

"Come on!"

"No."

"It can't possibly hurt that ba–"

"N. O."

"I insist that it's fine, you know?"

He swiftly turns towards you, eyes narrowed into a glare, "No. For the last time, no. What part of that do you not understand?"

You huff with a pout, crossing your arms. "You've been feeding from everyone but your own lover!"

"I've been feeding from professional bloodletters licensed by the church. That's the difference."

"They have blood, I have blood, same thing." You shrug, following him as he turns away from you again to walk across the room.

"Blood isn't the only thing to consider when feeding, darling." He tries not to groan into his palm as he sits on a leather armchair, the fireplace next to him.

"Then what? Appearances? Don't tell me you're. . ." You gasp in faux shock, "You're cheating on me with the pretty bloodletters—"

This time, Diluc really does groan into his hand, "No, I am not cheating on you with my meals. (Name), they're quite literally food to me! Inanimate snacks! Do you want me to see you that way?"

He meets your gaze as you slowly look away, biting the inside of your cheek. You don't reply.

Diluc stares, exasperated.

"Oh Barbatos. . ." He mumbles, burying his face into his hands. His lover wants to be his snack. He isn't sure how to react.

"Oh come on, 'Luc. I know you missed your last appointment because of how busy you are. Sooner or later, you'll start to get hungry, and that's sure to disrupt your darknight hero–"

"Don't call me that."

"–your vigilante activities." You offer him a small smile, crawling onto his lap as he frowns at you. He may seem disapproving, but you knew better that he's already hungry and tempted. "So think of me as your emergency food."

"You're not food to me." He states.

"I know, I know," With a hand on the back of his head, you guide him towards your neck, already cozying yourself in his arms, "I'm your lover, I'm yours. . . and I want you to know you can have all of me. It would make me happy if you could rely on me more."

Light kisses on your neck, a soft grip to keep you still, he sighs, "You could have simply admitted to being jealous of my recent bloodletter, you know?"

"Hey! You should've seen the way she looks at you like you're the meal and she's the—" Your breath hitches. His fangs sink into your skin, there's a slurping sound and you feel your nerves numbing.

You clench your jaw, gripping onto his shoulders for stability as he drinks. You try not to whimper at the sensation— of his tongue licking at the wounds, or of excess blood dripping down your shoulder onto your clothes.

"L-luc? Are you done yet?" You whine and he stops, pulling away.

"Licensed bloodletters have a pain tolerance." He says, a devilish smirk on his bloodied lips, "That, my love, is the difference."

🩸 — thoma .

Thoma is the kind of vampire that despises his entire being. He never wanted to hurt anyone, never liked how it felt to sink his teeth into flesh (no matter how addictive the taste that comes with it is). Thoma is kind. Thoma is thoughtful. Thoma feels more human than he feels monster and perhaps that's why he struggles so much because Archons forbid, he ever hurt anyone.

But Thoma is also hungry.

So when he stumbles into your adobe looking a little paler than usual, colder than usual, you find out that he hasn't been satisfied in a long time.

"I'm sorry, I don't even know why I'm here, I just— I should leave. I should really leave–" He says in a frantic daze, eyes panicked because why on earth did he allow his feet to take him to you. No matter how weak he seems to be, he'd easily pin you down to quench his thirst, "Forget this ever happened."

"Thoma, wait—" Your hand reaches out and he flinches away, more afraid of himself than of you. There's a glint in his eyes as he stares you up and down. He's hungry, it's evident.

"Y-you. . . you haven't drank yet, right?" You ask, taking careful steps closer. He nods.

You fumble with the collar of your top, pulling on the cloth to show more of your skin. His eyes widen.

"(Name), no–"

"It's fine, it's alright," You quickly reply, nervous. "You can drink from me." It sounds more like a question than an invite. You're shaking like a leaf, you're not even sure if you're doing it right. Thoma is the only vampire you know and he always kept his feedings private.

Your offer surprises him regardless, "(Name), no, I can't just– I can't do that to you–"

"But that's why you're here, right? You're hungry?"

"Yes, but- I can't! I shouldn't have! I should leave. I'm leaving—" He turns around to make his way to the door but your hand tugs him back again.

"Thoma."

He faces you again and he knows he's losing the internal battle.

"It's alright." Your grip on him relaxes and so does he. He feels both desperation and guilt as his arms slowly wrap around you, bringing his face closer to your neck. Your hand rests on the back of his head. The doorway feels warmer despite his cold skin.

He embraces you like he's scared; as if he isn't the monster in this scenario and you, a vulnerable victim-to-be.

There's no need for a warning with how gentle he rests his lips on your neck. Fangs pierce skin and flesh, the only noise are your quiet gasps and his careful slurps of a tongue.

I'm sorry, (Name), I'm sorry, I couldn't help it— were the words left unsaid but resonated by his trembling grip. There's a pained look on his face, struggling with the satisfaction of quenching his thirst versus his overriding guilt of hurting you.

Because dear archons, your blood tastes better than any of the animal blood provided by the Kamisato clan. He isn't sure how he could ever go back to pre-packed blood bags again.

Thoma is the type of vampire who would regret their guilty pleasures. He never wanted to hurt you, but honestly—

You should know better than to invite a vampire.

🩸 — zhongli .

As the Geo Archon, he made sure that beings like himself never have to worry about their next meal. Food, after all, was a basic right and every vampire must have access to their local blood bank. These blood banks provided meals in a variety of packages: from wine bottles to juice boxes.

Blood banks made life convenient for the modern vampire.

Still, as Zhongli sits with you in a cafe, you with your cup of tea and him with his red glass, he can't help but think of the past.

Centuries ago when he functioned on pure instinct rather than mortal wisdom, when he would stalk his prey in the dark and effortlessly hold them down. It's not that he misses hunting humans— no, that wasn't fun at all. If anything, that was incredibly childish of him.

What he misses was the feel and taste— of sinking fangs into flesh and drinking nectar straight from the flower. Most modern vampires would never know, or appreciate, what it's like to satisfy your urges the way they're supposed to. The way nature intended them to.

"—ngli? Zhongli?"

He snaps back into focus, eyes flickering away from the bare skin of your neck.

"Yes, dear?" He smiles and you eye him warily. There's something about the way he looks at you. Your heart thumps louder and you're not sure if it's because you're flustered by the petname.

"I asked if you're ready to go. The cafe is about to close."

He looks down on his cup. It's empty but he doesn't feel as satisfied as he should.

"Ah yes, allow me to walk you home."

Perhaps you should have turned down his offer— or perhaps you should have ignored the way his eyes would follow you. Zhongli has always been attentive, so it shouldn't be strange that he's being watchful.

The streets are dark and isolated, with most of the shops closed. You should be comforted in knowing you have someone as reliable and powerful as Zhongli walking you home, yet. . .

(But that's the problem, isn't it? Zhongli is incredibly powerful.)

As you glance at the man walking next to you, you can't help but let out a nervous laugh with the way his amber eyes meet yours. Has he been watching you all this time? There's a faint golden glow and you're reminded that you're walking with a vampire at night.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You nervously laugh, brushing the side of your hair with your fingers. This only makes him notice your exposed neck even more.

"Hm? Like what, darling?" His voice is low, like a hum as he tilts his head in question.

"Like. . . you're still hungry." You mumble, soft. He takes his time to reply, his eyes don't leave yours and you look away first, intimidated.

(But he's your friend, isn't he? Good and kind, gentleman Zhongli. He's not intimidating you, you're just delusional.)

"Hmm. . . perhaps it is because I am?"

You continue to walk, this time, nerves overcome by a slight worry for your friend, "Was your drink not enough? It's a new cafe, so maybe the quality was-"

"No, no," He cuts you off, looking down on you, "The cafe was excellent. The drink almost tasted fresh from the source." He praises with a fond smile.

You chuckle, "Fresh? Is that how vampires decide if a drink is good or not?"

"Well, I suppose not. Blood banks are prepackaged after all."

You hum, nodding along as you reach your home and search for your keys in your pockets.

It's the norm for the modern vampire to drink from blood banks. Things like freshness wouldn't be a standard when they know nothing of it. After all, drinking straight from the source would be considered barbaric, uncivilized— it's animalistic and downright frightening.

In a way, vampires have been domesticated the same way wild cats turn to purring house pets.

Wait.

"Zhongli. . . " You pause, just as you've unlocked the door to your home. "why. . . do you know what fresh tastes like?"

Something flashes in his eyes. A slip up.

A polite smile on his face. A fang peeking from between his lips. His eyes narrowed—

"Hmm. . . perhaps if you invite me inside, I could tell you more about it?"

note !! i hope you guys enjoyed! consider this as my end-of-hiatus post :D it has fluff, angst, and horror in one! do tell me what you think please :>

masterlist 2 || ko-fi || commissions

taglist !! @absolut-wildflower @boundedbyfate @sadlonelybagel @eissaaaa @ladycoleigh @nejibot @milkypompon @bloodreaper08 @irethepotato @x-zho @roriver @mich-cola @mxsomn @ackrylik @nicebonescomrade @starforecasts @stygianoir @yuminako @eccedentesiast-sapphic @nebulaera @nuttytani @klutzkat @shizunxie

#genshin #diluc #zhongli #thoma #diluc x reader #zhongli x reader #thoma x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin diluc #genshin zhongli #genshin thoma #genshin angst #genshin horror #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #genshin fanfic #diluc ragnvindr

4K notes · View notes

daosies · 5 months

Text

just say the words ("i love you")

whatever you want, yuta will deliver. he's weak to your whims; sometimes, too weak.

okkotsu yuta ♡ gn!reader

warnings: established relationship, lovesick yuta, premarital hand holding, hugging, kissing, not proofread :P

note: inspired by that one horimiya scene !!

"hug," you say, holding your arms out. yuta blinks at you owlishly, his mouth hanging slightly agape.

puffs of condensation escape his lips, his nose and cheeks painted a pixie pink as cold air nips at his skin.

"huh?" he asks, voice laced with worry. "are you cold, [name]?"

you shake your head while your arms are still outstretched, waiting for a hug. yuta furrows his brows slightly, yet gives in to your request. he envelopes you in a warm, tender embrace; his hold is firm yet loose, his touch feather-light as if you were the most delicate, precious being this world has to offer.

(you are, is all yuta thinks. what else, if not you?)

despite saying you aren't cold, yuta takes a step back, unravelling the turquoise scarf from his neck as his deft hands coming to wrap it around you. there's a kind, gentle smile that graces his lips as he soaks in the sight of you in his scarf, his heart becoming giddy.

your index finger comes up to pull the scarf down to your chin, since yuta thought it was a good idea to bundle half of your face in it.

"it's cold," yuta says, trying to pull the scarf back up. "what if you get frostbite?"

"you don't even have a scarf," you tell him. "you don't get to say anything."

yuta laughs, his dark eyes crinkling with mirth as his gaze never leaves you. even when you walk ahead of him, yuta never lets you out of his sight, his movements following yours as he observes you with all he has. from the bounce of your steps to the way you fiddle with his scarf, yuta watches your habits, engraving them into each fiber of his being.

he must acquaint himself with all of your quirks and ticks; he must learn everything there is to know about you. because, when he spends the rest of his life with you, he wants to know how to make you happy, what makes you happy.

suddenly, you turn around.

"hand," you state. one of your arms are outstretched, your palm facing him as he returns your gesture. yuta holds his hand out against yours, his fingers aligning with your own before lacing themselves in between the gaps.

thump-thump. his heart quickens. thump-thump. yuta likes the way his hands fit yours, as if they were made to be there. as if, when the two of you were created, your hands came as a pair, as puzzle pieces destined to fit one another.

yuta thinks that he was created for you. always you.

no matter how long yuta has loved you, he thinks you will always make him feel like this: lovesick, giddy, happy. yuta thinks you will always reduce him to a flustered mess, the apples of his cheeks turning an even brighter shade of red.

while you stare ahead, yuta stares at you. wholly.

subconsciously, yuta's pace matches yours. he follows your steps, trying his hardest to synchronize them. yuta maneuvers himself so he's on the outside of the sidewalk, his thumb coming to carress the back of your hand as he finally manages to tear his gaze away from you.

he stares ahead.

"what should we eat tonight?" he asks. yuta likes that question. he thinks it sounds so domestic, so gentle, so beautiful. yuta likes that question because he likes the way it feels on his tongue, because he hopes that he will always get to ask you it. forever.

"don't know," you respond. "do you know what inumaki-kun's cooking today?"

yuta shakes his head. "no. i heard something about a potluck, though."

you smile. "potluck sounds good."

yuta stares at you, again. do potlucks make you happy? he wonders, his thoughts occupied by the curl of your lips and the glimmer of your irises. yuta supposes he's occupied by a lot of things: curses, training, you.

he also supposes—knows—that you're the most important of all.

suddenly, you shake your hand a little, letting go of his grip. you quicken your steps to stand in front of him, coming face-to-face with his wide-eyed expression before whispering, "kiss."

although it's freezing, yuta feels warm. so, so warm. his breath hitches momentarily, puffs of condensation coming to a halt as he stares at you, on and on, before finally regaining some composure and leaning in towards you.

his lips press against yours, and yuta smiles into the kiss. he's sure it's not a good one, since he can feel how chapped his lips are compared to yours. still, he relishes in the feeling, the pure and unadulterated adoration that flourishes through his being.

yuta thinks that he would give you his life, his being, his existence. he thinks that if you wanted him to, he would climb mountains, traverse across oceans, if that was what you so desired.

yuta thinks that he's yours—all yours, but this time, you don't even have to ask.

#okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu x reader #yuta x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #yuta okkotsu #okkotsu yuuta

391 notes · View notes

caeunot · 3 months

Note

hii first of all i love your writing and im so glad i came across your fics 🖤 i was wondering if you could maybe write a johnnie x fem reader, enemies to lovers fic? or something along the lines of johnnie and fem reader always bullying each other a bit only to realise they've been crushing on each other the whole time?

johnnie guilbert x reader

enemies to lovers 18+

➷ you hated his guts, everything about him irritated you and made your skin crawl. you are friends with jake and you absolutely love him to bits so you spending time with him normally equals to you having to be around johnnie. these feelings aren't without reason though, your not the type of girl to hate on others very easily.

it happened a few years back, when your own youtube career recently jumpstarted and you started spending time with other similar youtubers near you. this is how you originally met johnnie, even before jake. you were first invited to a party hosted by some popular la youtuber at the time and you obviously took the invite since you knew this would not only help you make more friends in the industry but to also promote yourself!

you were greeting everyone and taking many pictures as the night went on, fully using this opportunity to the best of your ability. as it hit 12 you decided to look around and scope out the last person you want to introduce yourself to before you head home. you saw a short-ish guy with deep red emo hair swooped to the side with harsh makeup around his eyes and you were immediately intriged. you preferred a more grunge look yourself so seeing someone with such familiar fashion made you feel at ease.

"hey im y/n!" you say, introducing yourself. "do I know you?" he says coldly as he turns to see who was speaking to him. "no but everyone will soon the way my channel is going" you say with some sass so you can counter his rudeness. "you have way too much confidence" he says with a smirk. "so I've been told".

"what's your name?" you ask, "my names johnnie, johnnie guilbert". "well nice to meet you johnnie" you say with a smile. "what do you do for a living? if I can ask", " I make youtube videos and I also make some music on the side!" he says. you two talk for a little longer before you check the time seeing its quite past what you had planned. "hey it was great meeting you! I don't want to stay too long so I think I should get going!"

as you say goodbye and walk away you feel him grab you by your wrist, you turn around. "wait don't go yet, your the most interesting person I've spoken to today and I don't want to go home just yet" you bite your lip, "fine, how about I just walk you to your car then". he rolls his eyes, "is that all? anyways I don't even have a car, I came with uber"

"wait why did you take an uber?", you say confused, "do I really have to say". "yes", " okay, I can't drive.. happy?" you scrunch up your face, you don't feel comfortable letting him go home with an uber this time of night. "I don't mind giving you a lift! then you can talk to me during the ride all you want"

you walked him to your car and he got in on the passenger seat, let me just say that convincing him to let you take him home was harder than you imagined, but you could see in his face he appreciated it.

"why are you doing this again?" he asks as you start driving. "because I'm a nice person and I don't trust ubers". he nods, "I like your piercings" he says, observing your face in the dim lighting. "thanks!" you say as you stick out your tongue, showing your snake eyes. "oh shit I've never seen that in person before, it looks great". you blush slightly, "it was pretty painful and it's hard to upkeep but I don't regret it at all".

he brushes his hands through his hair, probably anxious from the small talk. "this might sound weird but, do you have a girlfriend" you ask. "I don't, why?", "it's because I figured that if u did she would be the one driving u home from a party, so I was just curious". "haven't had one in years", he says leaning back. "really? your really hot so I'd imagine girls would be all over you".

he laughs, "maybe in the past but not anymore, my sense of fashion and my lack of confidence kinda makes getting a girlfriend hard" he says, opening up to you effortlessly. "I think emo guys are hot" you turn and look at him.

"what are you implying?" he says, giving a lewd grin. "that if I had the choice to either have sex with you or not have sex with you that I would". you notice him squirm slightly in his seat. "if you mean that, pull over" he says

you do as he says and you climb into the back seat. you crawl into his lap and find yourself grabbing and pulling on anything you can find as you feel his tounge slip deep into your mouth, tasting the alcohol he had ingested that night. you wish you could recall the rest but you were much drunker than you thought you were and ended up slightly blacking out.

the moral of the story is that you gave him your number, and he never came back after that. not a call, not even a single text. you never ever hooked up with guys, this was your first time. and you hate how knowing a guy for just one hour could make you feel such strong feelings towards him, for johnnies case those feelings were a mix of lust and disgust.

back to current times, you ended up meeting jake a year later and that's when you saw johnnie again for the first time since that night. but instead of apologizing or at least being honest he instead found himself ignoring you. this frustrated you the most, you despise a man who cannot own up to his actions, let alone not even acknowledging them. every time you found yourself around him you felt your blood boil and you just wanted to give him a peice of your mind, but you can't.

you can't since it's been 5 months since and neither of you have said anything at all, 5 months of pure pretend. jake noticed your dislike towards his roommate but he didn't want to get involved in any issues that didn't require him, which you appreciated greatly.

after a lot of convincing, jake did eventually get the both of you to film a video together with him. it was one of those food rating videos and the goal was to order one type of food for everyone, jake said that I will do the drinks, johnnie the main and jake the desert. you were dreading this.

and you have been dreading this day for the past month since jake started bringing it up. you couldn't even handle being in the same room as him for a few minutes let alone a whole video.

"let's plan what we will order now so that we don't have to think to hard tomorrow!' jake says as you sat down on the couch next to him and opposite from johnnie. "I already know what I'm making you guys eat", "let it be actual food and not just chicken nuggets please" jake says jokingly. "knowing johnnie he will probably poison mine" you say with a scoff. a few minutes later jake started getting a call from someone and had to leave, aka leaving you alone with johnnie.

"why would you say that?" johnnie said to you the moment jake left the room. "say what?", "say that I'd poison your food, it's rude". you laugh from the pure nerve this guy has. "don't fuck with me, don't act like your the victim here". "says the one starting unnecessary shit". " I'm not starting anything, you started and I'm just continuing". the tension in the room was cut as jake walks back in, "sorry guys that was my studio, anyways where were we!" he looks between the two of you and johnnie gets up and leaves, saying he's not feeling well.

that evening you sat down in the passengers seat of jakes car, you breathe in and out meditatively to calm your nerves. "okay everything is orderd we just gotta wait for the food!" jake says climbing into his seat of the car and started prepping for the recording. you fiddle with your rings and move around your hair for a solid 12 minutes before johnnie got in the car with the food in hand.

the video started off fine, you didn't laugh at his jokes and he didn't laugh at yours. you two didn't even make eye contact, that was untill it was jakes turn. "okay guys for johnnie I got him a really massive chocolate chip cookie because hes a basic bitch and I got y/n a gummy lunchable because she's never had one" you laugh since the idea for having gummy pizza seems so obscure. "jake that's so wrong you know I love lunchables". jake turns to you as if implying you should give him a piece.

"I rather not" you say softly, but not soft enough to where johnnie couldn't hear you, "it's literally just a lunchable what's your problem". " I never said I had a problem, it's not my fault you don't have manners and can't ask for something yourself". "I literally just said that I love lunchables, stop starting shit were recording".

jake turns around to face the both of you, "what the fuck guys, what's your problem", you look at johnnie, "ask him". " you guys are acting like fucking toddlers either tell me what happened or just sort your issues alone, like now" he says as he gets out of his car, "there's no point in keeping on filming so let's just go inside okay".

you go inside and sit down and you feel as if your in the third grade getting detention from your angry teacher Mr Webber. "so.. what happend, you two have been like this since the moment you met and I don't understand, y/n, johnnie,I love you both so much but I can't handle this bad energy", you stay quiet and so does johnnie. "okay if you guys are going to be like that I'm going to my room, just please sort something out because I promised our fans we were doing a collab". he says walking off into his room.

you bite the inside of your mouth and look around, not able to handle the awkward silence. "johnnie I just have to ask you one question, why?" he makes an upset face, "what do you mean 'why'", " you know what I mean" you say in almost a defeated tone. you stand up and walk towards where he is sitting, "I mean why didn't you text me back, why did you ghost me" he looks away. "don't be a coward please, im tired of our crap". upon hearing this he stands up.

"fine okay, I'm a fucking coward. I was too scared to message you back because I was drunk and you were drunk and I knew for a fact that nothing would happen between us because I mean look at you, your gorgeous and I know if we somehow started something in the future I would feel so guilty that we hooked up the night we met, I've only ever had sex with two people y/n!! that's you and my ex and I feel guilty for it every day because sleeping with random people is not me!!"

your feel as if your in shock, almost frozen in place. you brush your hand through your hair about to say something but nothing comes out. "I never met to hurt you at all I just, I'm stupid I'm fucking st-" you cut him off by putting your lips on his, he doesn't push you away and instead takes his arms and grabs onto you tight while pushing you against the nearest wall. "I sware I'm not usually like this" he says, breaking the kiss,"you just.. do something to me"

'fuck' you mutter as you grab onto his hair as the kiss becomes more and more passionate. he takes his hands off the wall and starts to remove your baby tee, exposing your lacy black bra. as he did this you hear something behind you and look to see jake, his mouth dropped right to the floor. johnnie immediately stood in front of you to cover your exposed skin and when he heard jake walk away he helped you put your shirt back on. "I'm so sorry" he says with the most guilty look on his face.

"shh don't be it's okay!" you say holding his face and giving him a soft kiss, "I definitely overreacted to everything because of how much I liked you, it hurt me so much that someone I felt so strongly about could shove me aside like you did". " I haven't gone a day without regretting what I did" he says. you felt so relieved that this issue between you two was finally sorted out.

"what now?" you ask, indentifying the elephant in the room. "its my turn to say sorry I shouldnt have kissed you like that it was impulsive and careless of me".

"y/n". " yes?", you ask completely confused. "I've never met someone I've wanted more then you in this moment, I want you and all of you" he says walking towards you and holding your waist, "let's not torture each other as we have, please" you smile "I'm all yours".

❣

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert x reader #jake and johnnie #x reader #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert imagine #johnnie guilbert smut #caeunot

263 notes · View notes

shina913 · 2 months

Text

Bitter(Sweet) | JWW

Bitter(Sweet)

Pairing: Wonwoo x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: Infidelity!AU; exes!AU; angst; smut; some fluff

Warnings: cussing; sexually suggestive language; clit play; protected sex; questionable morals; open conversation about infidelity; hurt without comfort

Word count: 4.8K words

Summary: You and Wonwoo reunite to celebrate a special evening.

A/N: If you don't like reading about cheaters - you are free to skip! Thank you, Sim @/roaminginthenights for your notes. They added more depth and nuance to the story in so many words. I appreciate you, my friend!

A/N2: Originally posted on my SVT sideblog but I've decided to merge everything on main now. I also have a version of this fic with BTS' Namjoon, if you choose to read it with that character.

You’re sitting in the airport parking lot, tapping your fingers happily to the beat of the song playing on your car radio. You glance at the time, it wouldn’t be too long; he’d be walking out of those doors soon. Until then, you continue to hum to the song.

Tonight is special. A night you didn’t think you’d ever celebrate again. Yet here you were, in a rental car, in a town you’d left years before.

Other than one particular overnight reservation, there are no other formal plans. You’d order takeout and perhaps pick up a bottle of wine or two from the corner store.

Your phone rings. You bring it up to check the caller ID and smile when you recognize the name flashing on the screen.

“Hi, honey!”

“Hi mom,” your daughter greets you on speakerphone.

“Is everything okay?”

She goes on to ask permission to do a facemask with her cousin. While she rambles on about other activities they have planned for their sleepover, you distantly hear the passenger door open. You quickly turn your head to smile at him then bring your pointer finger to your lips signaling him not to say a word.

“Mom? Helloooo? Are you listening to me?”

You scramble to get back to your call as your passenger shuts the door. “Uh–sure, honey. That all sounds great. Just make sure you get some sleep and listen to auntie, okay?”

“Okay.”

“And you know I told you that I have a late-night meeting so no phone calls but you can always text–”

“I know, mom.” She’s exasperated in a manner that only middle-schoolers who know it all would be. You exchange ‘I-love-you’s’ before she ends the call.

And now, you can properly greet your new arrival.

“Hi,” Wonwoo says.

“Hi,” you greet him with a smile. “That was Yuna.”

“So I heard,” he smiles. “Is she sleeping over at Emma’s?”

You nod. “She’s thrilled. It’s a school night and she gets to stay up late with her favorite cousin.”

He chuckles. “I don’t know if I can top organic facemasks when she comes over next week, but I’ll try.”

“I’m sure she’ll be happy with whatever you’ve got planned for her.”

“Right. As long as she’s happy.”

You nod then let out a long sigh before telling him, “You know, at some point, we need to stop meeting like this.” That’s what you also said last time. And the time before that. You’re fully aware of it and you think that if you say it enough times, you believe it and actually stop.

“I know,” he breathes out before cupping your nape to bring your face to his, sealing his lips over yours. You don’t pull away or give any hint of protest. You melt right into him, your mouth parting to let his tongue savor you.

You miss this. You miss him.

Somehow, you find the willpower to wrench yourself away from him. “Easy there. We’re still in the parking lot.”

You can see the mischief in his eyes even through his glasses. “So? It’s not like that’s stopped us before.” His hands trail between your legs, cupping your heat.

“I know but,” you gently push his hand away. “We have a reservation and it’s late so we should probably get going.”

He sighs, relenting. “Okay.” He reaches back for the seatbelt then stops short of buckling in. “By the way, happy anniversary,” he grins.

You feel a flutter in your chest and your cheeks warm up. “Happy anniversary,” you reply.

******

Wonwoo scrolls through his phone, scanning for the email confirmation that contained the security code and instructions to unlock the rental.

“Are you sure you have it?”

You are both standing on the front porch of your Airbnb, using your phone's flashlight to help him see his phone better. He was nearly blind as a bat, especially in the dark, even with his glasses on.

“I’ve got it! Trust me.” He scrolls some more until he exclaims, and finally sees the coveted email.

He carefully punches the code on the door’s keypad until you hear it chime, confirming that you’ve gained access.

You walk through the door and into this place that is known to you. But seeing it again after so long, makes it feel unfamiliar.

The first thing you notice is that the foyer has been redone. The divider wall that used to separate the kitchen and living room has since been knocked down to give it a more ‘open’ layout.

The furniture is all generic. Not much thought was put into picking them out. The colors also don’t provide much contrast to the equally bland walls. It all blends in but not in a good way.

“Why is everything so white?” You remark.

“It supposedly gives the illusion of a bright and open space.” Wonwoo sets your bags at the base of the staircase.

“Feels more like a hospital to me,” you reply dryly, to his amusement. He moves into the kitchen, helping himself to the contents of the cupboards.

You follow behind, wandering over to the counter, where there is a binder listing the ‘house rules.’

“No parties, no loud music,” you read random bullet points out loud. “Quiet time at 10PM. Interesting.”

His arms circle your waist from behind, and you feel him nuzzle into your neck, planting a soft kiss. “Can you stay quiet after 10PM?” He murmurs against your skin.

“Shut up,” you giggle and break out of his hold and playfully pinch him on his side. “Only if you keep your hands to yourself after 10PM,” you tease him back, making him burst into laughter.

You walk around the place some more, scanning and assessing. You’re surprised at how many more modifications have been made. Gone were the warm, earthy tones that you painted the living room and the kitchen.

What was wrong with the way things were before? The interior designer you hired found a great way to marry modern and vintage concepts!

You shake your head in mild irritation.

The upstairs bedrooms feel just as desolate with the plain white, sanitized walls. At least the new owners attempted to break the monotony with a few framed watercolor prints and scenic photographs, no doubt purchased from a big-box store.

You find yourself standing in the midst of your old master bedroom. You see hints of the old furnishings layered with the new. It certainly wasn’t how you remembered it.

“Huh.” Wonwoo says when he walks in. “Why didn’t we think of putting the bed against that side of the room before?”

You roll your eyes at him. “Because you get up to go to the bathroom more often than I do so that’s why we put it on the side that was closer to the en suite.”

His mouth drops slightly with a soft ‘ah,’ in sudden realization. “Well, I’ll have to admit, you were right. You should have ignored me and gone with your original plan.”

“I appreciate you acknowledging that, years later.” You roll your eyes and brush past him on your way out. “But as you know, marriage is about compromise,” you call past your shoulder.

“I’m ordering the pizza!” Your voice echoes down the staircase.

Wonwoo spends a few more minutes in this room, allowing himself to reminisce before finding the strength to tear himself away and rejoin you in the kitchen.

******

You’re sitting at your old kitchen counter, eating pizza and sharing a bottle of wine that Wonwoo ended up stealing from the owner’s kitchen. When you question him as to whether the alcohol was included in your AirBnB reservation, he shrugs and promises to replace it instead.

“So, are you seeing anyone?”

You stop mid-bite, taken aback by his question. “Wow, already?”

“What? I’m just making conversation.” He says casually as he takes a sip of wine. “And I’m nosy,” he snickers.

You giggle at his admission. “Nope, not seeing anyone. I had–what I thought was a connection a month ago…but that was a false flag. I’ve decided to hang back, take a break…be alone for a bit, you know? I’m not really looking for anything serious anyway.”

His expression turns sullen. He clears his throat before saying, “I thought you had a connection with Seojun. Things looked pretty serious.”

The reminder of your fatal mistake doesn’t sting as much as it did before. And he wasn’t as angry and bitter when he brings it up.

“Seojun was…” you sigh, collecting your thoughts so as not to create unnecessary ripples in this still water. “He was good for me at the time. He was who I needed at the time. But long-term?” You scrunch your face and shook your head. “I didn’t think that far down the road.”

He used to always ask ‘why.’ Why did you do what you did? Why did you make those choices?

You were together for five years before you married. Two years later, you had Yuna and everything seemed picture-perfect. You thought that you were doing well and that you might really have a knack for marriage and monogamy. It was a point in your relationship when you thought that nothing could ever break you.

But it turns out that anything and everything can break you.

Seojun came along and it was as if something that had long been dormant ignited within you. You thought it would be a one-off, but it wasn’t. For months you thought Wonwoo would suspect whether anything felt off. It wasn’t like you were trying to get caught but maybe some part of you wanted him to catch you. But that didn’t happen. Instead, he seemed happily blissful in his own world, seeing everything through rose-colored lenses.

You pick up your wine glass and tip the contents into your mouth, emptying it. When you set it back down on the counter, you look at him, staring at you.

“But you loved him, right?” He asks between mouthfuls of pizza.

You pause for a few long beats before responding. “Sure. In a way, yeah.” Your answer is noncommittal but the truth was, you didn’t know for sure if what you felt for Seojun was love. It certainly wasn’t the same as what you felt for Wonwoo. He was in his own category.

“I don’t get it though. Why would you want to be alone?”

You scoff and straighten in your seat, feeling the urge to be defensive. “I don’t get why you’re suddenly concerned about my choice to be alone.”

“No, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” He switches tact, sensing that your walls start to go back up. “I remember back then, you used to say that a lot…that you like being alone and that you didn’t believe in marriage or lifelong partnership. And yet–you still agreed to marry me when I asked. So no, I don’t believe that your ultimate desire or goal is to be alone.”

You pour yourself another glass. “You were different. Being with you, what we had–it made me want to prove myself wrong. That perhaps I do have the marriage gene in me and I can make it last.” You pick at a piece of pepperoni on your slice. “I’d like to believe that I did. I tried to keep things together to make things work for us.”

Wonwoo reaches for your hand and brushes his fingers over your knuckles in an attempt to console you.

“Turned out well, right?” You remark sarcastically, throwing your free hand up in defeat. “I failed. So, I conclude that I just don’t have it in me.”

“The marriage gene?”

“Uh-huh. I’m doomed!” You laugh darkly.

You were happily resigned to that fact. Wonwoo was a beautiful anomaly. While your time may have been short-lived, it still added meaning to your generally doomed perspective on marriage and relationships.

His fingers curl around your hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. “For what it’s worth, I thought you were great at it.”

You smile wistfully and bring his hand up to your lips to kiss it. “Thank you. That’s kind of you to say.”

******

You were in the upstairs bathroom washing up when Wonwoo excused himself to retrieve a couple of things from his jacket pocket downstairs when his phone starts buzzing.

“Hello?” He answers.

“Hey, how’s it going? I’ve been trying to reach you. How was your flight?” the female voice says on the other line.

He clears his throat and hides away in what used to be his office. “Uh, yeah. Sorry, sweetheart. You know how it is at my dad’s house. The reception’s shit.”

“Why are you whispering?” She asks.

“Dad just fell asleep. You know how he’s such a light sleeper.”

“Oh, yeah. You’re right. Do you think you’ll be able to finish up whatever you need to over there? I have some miles on my card and fly out tomorrow to come over and help?”

“No, that won’t be necessary,” Wonwoo tells her calmly. “Dad and I are just about done packing up some of his old things here so, he’ll be ready to move into the facility. He’s really looking forward to it.”

“Is he? That’s great.”

“Yeah. Anyway, I have to go. I’m trying to sort through a few more of his things here while he sleeps. I work faster when he doesn’t stop to admire each item and talk about what it meant to him.”

“Okay. Just call me if your flight changes. I love you!”

He hears the floorboard creak and looks up from his seat to find you leaning against the door frame, dressed in nothing but a black lace teddy. Biting his lower lip, he says, “I love you, too.”

As soon as he hangs up, he tugs at your wrist and ravishes you.

******

“You think she’d ever suspect anything between us?” You wonder out loud while you both lay naked in your former marriage bed, basking in your post-sex high.

He shakes his head adamantly. “I think ‘you and me’ is the last thing on her mind.”

You laugh at how confident he made that sound.

“I’m serious!” He says firmly. “This is not even remotely on her list of possibilities! She knows what happened between us so this is highly unlikely for her.”

You sit up against the headboard and stare at him in disbelief. “You told her about us?”

He shrugs, not seeing the problem with it. “It was all part of my therapy and healing process so…yeah. I told her everything.”

“So, does she think I’m, like, the devil incarnate or something?” You try to mask the pang of guilt in your chest by making light of it.

“Nah. She doesn’t really think about you.” Then he immediately adds, “I’m not saying that to be hurtful or dismissive. I think at the time she thought she was somebody who could, I don’t know, put me back together or something.”

Even though you’ve both said your pieces over the years and talked things over, traded apologies, and accepted them, it still felt inadequate.

“I’m sorry,” you say instinctively.

He sits up to mirror your posture and dips his head to kiss your bare shoulder. “You’ve said that already.”

“Yeah but–” He cuts you off mid-sentence with another kiss, his lips lingering over yours.

“No buts. We’re good, okay? I’m good.” He reassures you.

But you press him anyway. “Okay, I’m sorry to keep dropping the reality check here but what if she finds out?”

He sighs, a wry smile on his lips. “If she does…” he trails off without finishing his thought. He straightens his posture, turning serious. “I guess you could say that I’m no longer scared of being labeled the bad guy. I spent a good chunk of my life trying to do the right thing and being a good person. Always doing what is morally acceptable.”

You tilt your head at him in curiosity. He’s changed a lot, but just like your old house, even though the fixtures have been replaced, walls knocked down and repainted, and furniture layout rearranged, you can still see hints of what it used to be.

He’s still the same Wonwoo you fell in love with, beneath this new cynical, detached exterior. He wasn’t always open about his emotions but in the rare cases that he would wear his heart on his sleeve, you saw and felt it.

Right now, he was baring his soul to you.

“I’m not saying that I’m proud of it. You know, the affairs. I have needs that she can’t fulfill,” he shrugs. “There’s acceptance on my part. I’m not trying to claim righteousness or hide behind morals. And that’s okay. I’m okay with that!”

You’re silent as you take in his ruminations. In a way, it saddens you that he’s adopted this perspective. You always knew him as an idealist–someone who, as he said himself, ‘always did the right thing.’ Which was why it crushed him when you confessed your infidelity.

He stares at you for a minute before breaking into a chuckle. “What?”

“What?” You echo, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Say something!” He laughs.

“I mean, what do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know! Anything. Scold me or, I don’t know…tell me that this isn’t right. ‘Your wife doesn’t deserve this! You’re a terrible husband!’” He says jokingly.

“I am the last person to judge, okay? If it doesn’t keep you up at night…” you trail off.

He nods at that.

But then you cock your eyebrow at him, picking up on what he said moments ago. “So, ‘affairs?’ You mean, there’s more?”

“I had some fling a few months ago. It was meaningless,” he add quickly, as if that contributed to anything. “And there were a couple of one-night stands but I don’t think they count.”

“Mm…” you hum vaguely.

******

Wonwoo cracks open another bottle of wine and brings it upstairs, where you both drink in bed and continue to trade stories.

“I didn’t really want to get married again. We were having a good time and she’s great,” he recounts the early days of his new relationship. “Sometimes it’s easy to confuse great sex with love.”

“Mm-hmm. Speak for yourself,” you remark.

He smirks at your comment. “But…there she was, down on one knee, asking me to marry her. And so I did. We’ve been living together anyway so, might as well, right?” He shifts and changes his tone, feeling the need to clarify that he’s not a complete asshole. “I hope you’re not taking this the wrong way but she and I are good. We’re comfortable. It’s like, we speak the same language.”

He’s tipsy and babbling but you let him. “That’s great,” you smile softly, taking a sip of wine.

“The sex is not.” You nearly choke at his revelation. “A month after we got married–phew–” He makes a whistling sound and makes a quick, swooping gesture with his hand. “Out the door, it went.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you say with all sincerity.

He shrugs. “It is what it is.”

“But don’t you love her?”

He purses his lips and tilts his head from side to side. “In a certain way, sure.” He mirrors your answer from earlier this evening.

You nod vaguely, letting the words hang in the air while you both fall into a comfortable silence.

After a few beats he says, “I’ll never love anyone the way I loved you. That’s a fact.”

This isn’t the first time he’s told you this. He’s declared it several times, at least once during one of your clandestine meetings.

“When we were together, I never thought we’d split up. That never occurred to me. So–what I have with her it’s…it’s an entirely different kind of love. But if or when she suddenly comes to me and asks for a divorce, I’d give it to her. I feel like that’s where this is headed anyway.” He downs the rest of his wine before setting it down on the nightstand. “I would compare it to a piece of tape. You stick it on then peel it off and try to stick it someplace else. It might take, if you tried hard enough but…it’s never quite the same.”

You lick your dried-out lips and let out a shaky breath. “God, that sounds really sad,” your voice cracks.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not sad about it so you shouldn’t be!” He maintains his lightheartedness. “I think it’s perfectly fine to have different types of love, different types of relationships. Mine happens to be unconventional.”

“Unconventional, yes. But the way you speak about it, it’s as if you’re saying that you’re totally comfortable with the fact that you’ll never truly love again. That’s what saddens me.”

“I never said that,” he says in defense. “I never said I’ll never truly love again.” Then he looks you in the eye and says matter-of-factly, “I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

The look he gives you sends an involuntary shiver down to your spine which makes its way between your legs. “Yes, but what we have is different. We’ve both gone through the worst possible thing that could happen in our relationship; which is why when you’re with me, there are no surprises. No unrealistic expectations. There’s no fear lurking around because it’s all laid out for you.”

His expression is steady and unchanged. “And I’m saying this is what works for me right now. This is what works for us–”

“Ugh, Wonwoo…” you groan, sinking back into the mattress and turning on your side, facing away from him. “That’s such a fucked up way of looking at the situation. You know how fucked up we are! We’re still reeling from how our marriage ended and…” You bury your face in your palms and groan in frustration again. “Who would have thought even after we signed those papers, that it didn’t really mean the end…Like, right that second? I wish that somebody told us that breaking up takes much longer than that.”

You feel the bed dip behind you as he scoots closer, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you flush against him. “It’s like we said, it just takes time, baby.”

“But it’s been five years!” You whine petulantly. “I just want to be done with it! You said that after we’re divorced, we’d move on and start fresh.” You turn your body around, his face is so close to yours. “Now, we’re just in this endless cycle of grief and trauma.”

You close your eyes and you feel him press his forehead on yours in silent agreement. You don’t remember how long you hold each other like that. He quiets your whimpers with the softest kisses until you both drift off to sleep.

******

“No!” Wonwoo cries out, jolting you both awake. He sits up abruptly, with his head in his hands. His back is covered in sweat and his heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest.

“Hey.” You sit up and rub circles on his back consolingly. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“Yeah,” he sniffs and wipes his tears away.

You offer to get him a drink of water but he declines. He gets out of bed and paces around the room.

“Do you want to talk to me about it?”

“Uh…” he breathes before sitting back down on the edge of the bed. “Yeah. I’m…trying to remember bits and pieces.” He takes a minute to regulate his breathing while simultaneously collecting his thoughts. “We were walking down the street, coming back from a dinner party or something. And then, we needed to cross the street for whatever reason.”

You hug your knees to your chest while you listen to him.

“I was holding your hand so we could go together but you went on and darted out into the dark road. I kept calling out to you but you kept moving farther away from me. I tried so hard to run after you but it was as if my feet were sealed into the concrete.” A tear rolls down his cheek. “I felt so helpless because I wanted to get to you and–I couldn’t see you. You were gone.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. C’mere,” You open up your arms and beckon him to come back to bed.

He obliges and nuzzles into touch. “I couldn’t get to you,” he cried.

“It was just a dream, baby.” You whisper calmly into his ear, rubbing his back to console him.

He burrows his face into the crook of your neck. “It’s not the first time I had a dream about losing you. I’ve had different versions of that dream where you disappear into the dark and I can’t move my body to reach out to you. It’s like–I’m perpetually stuck or something.”

All you can do is listen. This was his trauma talking. You continue to rub his back and rock him gently.

“You know, sometimes I wonder if…if I’ll ever love anybody. Like, truly love them. Or maybe I’ve never been truly loved before. Maybe…maybe that’s what it means. I’ll never be able to have the ability to–“

“Hey,” you interject. You pull his face away from your shoulder and cup his cheeks. “Listen to me— I love you. In my own… twisted way. And I know that you love me. In your own way.”

He smiles ruefully, his eyes welling up with emotion.

You gaze at him, brushing his cheekbone with the pad of your thumb. “I will always love you,” you say reassuringly before bringing your lips to his.

Your gentle kisses turn hungry and you can’t help when your body responds to him instinctively. Your need for him is unrelenting.

One moment he’s telling you about a nightmare and the next, you’re wrapped up in each other’s arms, your legs on either side of his hips. It doesn’t take him long to be ready for you, especially when you’re naked and bare for him.

You undulate your hips, grinding your slick over his length. His hands gripping your waist, guiding you while you pleasure yourself with the delicious friction.

“Mm, you’re so wet for me,” he whispers, reaching between you to rub circles on your clit.

“Mm-hmm,” is all you can muster.

“You ready for me, huh?” He nips at your bottom lip.

You give him a nod and he manages to pause his ministrations to reach across the nightstand. Once he sheaths himself, he takes one swift move and slips right into your center.

Each thrust is purposeful. Your fingers grip his hair as you moan into his shoulder. He gently sinks his teeth into your tender flesh, groaning. You're both floating and it’s a special kind of high.

One look at him and you heat up to a fever pitch. You take comfort in the deep baritone of his voice, goading you, whispering his naughtiest fantasies about you when you’re apart. You feel him touch you and you know it’s what you’ve been missing. He completes you.

You move in perfect sync as if you never separated. When you’re intimate like this, the questions and doubts fade when your bodies close in, filling every gap. Your connection is unrivaled.

He pulls back. “You close?”

Not that he needed an answer but he just loves watching you come undone. He ups the ante, cupping your ass cheeks and combining deep plunges with swivels, thrusting sharply and retracting slowly. Your head lolls back, dizzy with pleasure and at the same time awed by the heights he takes you to. Places where you can simultaneously forget and remember. Where nothing and nobody else exists except you and him and the mutual passion you share.

The sweat misting his brow glistens in the dusky light, his face beginning to strain as your release crests and finally crashes down. Instantly, you shudder, the tingling becoming too much to bear, your skin too sensitive. He is attuned to your body, because he stops his movements and applies pressure where you need it, keeping your hypersensitivity at bay, as his own climax hits him hard. His growls are suppressed, his face crimson with the rush of blood to his head. Your walls squeeze him greedily, prolonging your pleasure as he empties himself into you.

Wonwoo drops you both onto the mattress, collapsing in a heap of exhaustion. He is glued to your slick chest, where he will remain for the next ten minutes, snoozing, nuzzling, and kissing your neck. You hold him and savor the moment before you part and return to the alternate realities you both worked hard to establish.

Deep down, you know you’ve ruined him. You didn’t mean to. He was nothing but an innocent bystander in your own path of self-destruction. Perhaps, as your lifelong penance, you’d spend the rest of your days assuring him that he’s not broken and that he deserves unconditional love.

You breathe into his shoulder as you settle, holding him as close as you possibly can. In your own quiet way, you're telling him that you're happy to remain like this.

Main SVT Fic Masterlist

You’ve reached the end! Thank you so much for reading!

If you loved it, please comment, reblog, or send me feedback! 📩. I love hearing from readers! If you didn’t like it so much, I would still like to hear about it. Help me become a better writer! 💜

#svt fanfic #svt wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #wonwoo smut #svt smut #wonwoo angst #svt x reader

204 notes · View notes

hintsofhoney · 1 year

Text

Radio and the Rain

Pairing(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: When a bad storm forces you and Dean apart on a hunt, he realizes just how much you mean to him.

Tags: 18+, smut, making love, p in v, all that jazz... nothing too crazy

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: Hello, I'm back after almost 6 months. Moving across the country (again) among other big life events (all good ones!) gave me the worst writer's block of all time, but thanks to my friends (@soaringeag1e & @emoryhemsworth), writing this fic per their suggestion (based off Radio and the Rain by Chris Young) is what finally pulled me out of it! Beta'd by my angels @wayward-dreamer and @makeadealwithdean. Alright, hope you all enjoy, and I promise I'll be back again with more things soon!

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST | SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

“Y/N!” Dean calls out, doubtful that you can hear him over the sound of the rain coming down as he tries to ignore the panic building inside him. His hair is stuck to his forehead from the downpour, water droplets streaming down his face as he tries to shield himself from the weather. It’s no use. He’s soaked to the bone – he’s not sure he could have worn enough layers to keep him dry, not in this storm – and the darkness of the forest seems to go on forever. He could have sworn there was a town nearby – some light pollution would be really helpful right about now – but he seems to be shit out of luck. Thunder booms above him, almost deafening, and he keeps on what he hopes is the right path, his heart rate steadily increasing. He needs to find you.

“Y/N!” he yells again after another minute passes. If he’s soaked, he can’t imagine what you must be. He remembers what you’re wearing; skinny jeans, a thin green t-shirt, a black faux leather jacket, hunting boots. Normally, he doesn’t complain about your refusal to wear more layers, but right now, ‘I told you so’ is on the tip of his tongue. He would need a large amount of hands to count how many times he’s told you to prepare for anything , and that a flimsy t-shirt and jacket weren’t gonna cut it, but in your defense, this storm came out of nowhere. He had to give you that, at least.

“Dean!” he whips his head around at the faint sound of his name making its way through the rain, and yells yours out once more before making his way towards your voice. His eyes are adjusted enough to the dark to where he can make out silhouettes of fallen trees ahead of him, stepping over them with little caution as you call out to him again. He has to make sure you’re okay. He has to get to you.

“I’m here, Y/N!” he yells, “Where are you!?”

“Dean!”

He hears it, clear as day from behind him. He turns around in time to see the outline of your soaked body appearing from behind the trees.

“Y/N!” He rushes to you, taking your cold hand in his, and you can’t tell if he’s relieved or angry to see you – or a little bit of both. You should have listened to him when he told you splitting up was a bad idea, but completing the hunt had been the only thing on your mind, Dean’s lectures about safety be damned. “Jesus, you’re freezing,” he comments, like he isn’t an icicle himself. He wants to say, ‘I told you splitting up was a bad idea’, but he holds his tongue. He can lecture you later.

He grabs you firmly by the shoulders, looking you up and down. “Are you okay?”

With the rain pouring down, he sounds like he’s whispering, even though you can tell he’s only a decibel away from full-on screaming. Lightning strikes in the distance, and you’re able to get a clear view of his face for a brief moment. Water streaming down his clenched jaw, hair soaked and plastered to his forehead, worried green eyes searching yours. They land on your cheek, which you think is bleeding thanks to the branch that smacked you in the face a few minutes ago, and you roll your eyes at his over-concern.

“I’m fine, Dean. It’s just a scratch.”

“C’mon,” he replies gruffly, pulling you into his coat in an attempt to shield you from the rain. “Baby’s got a first aid kit in the back.”

Ten minutes of walking later and you can make out Baby’s silhouette parked on the road on the other side of some trees. The rain seems to have gotten even worse – if that’s even possible – and the thought of being underneath some type of roof (Baby’s was just as good as any) where you’d have an opportunity to get dry was getting your tired legs through the last bit of your trek out of the muddy woods.

Your first step onto the dirt road comes with more rain as you come out from under the umbrella of trees. Dean opens the back door for you, ushering you inside and telling you not to worry about your shoes (something that he was usually a stickler about; he liked a clean car). To your surprise, he gets in behind you, quickly closing the door before the backseat can get even more wet. He leans over the front bench, fishing his keys out of his pocket, before starting the ignition and turning on the heat. The radio comes on as Baby starts up, and he lets it play as he opens the glove box and pulls out a flashlight, before sitting back and reaching underneath the driver’s seat for the first aid kit.

“Hold this,” he orders, turning on the light and handing it to you, the brightness of the bulb causing you both to squint as your eyes adjust.

“Dean, I told you, I’m fine,” you reiterate with an exhausted sigh, watching as he opens the white box in his lap.

“Shine it on your face, I need to get a better look.”

You roll your eyes, pointing the flashlight on your cheek, allowing Dean to grab the underside of your chin as he moves your head to the side and examines the damage.

“Needs to be cleaned,” he announces, letting you go and pulling out a small bottle of rubbing alcohol and gauze from the kit. You watch as he unscrews the cap and flips the bottle over, letting the cloth absorb some of the liquid before flipping it back and closing it. “This is gonna sting.”

He says that every time, and you chuckle softly in response. “Yeah, not my first time.”

He doesn’t even crack a smile. He grabs underneath your chin again, dabbing your wound with the cloth, and you’re too focused on his mood to even notice the sting. A minute passes by, and you’re sure it’s clean by now, but he seems to be on autopilot, jaw clenched and eyes both focused in on what he’s doing and glazed over at the same time.

“Dean,” you say gently, placing your free hand on top of his, stilling his movements and pulling him out of his trance. “I think it’s clean.”

Silence, except for the rain and the radio, which is quietly playing Is This Love by Whitesnake (not usually what this station plays, but it’s 2 a.m. and you figure they probably save the sappy 80s songs for this time of night).

And then, “You can’t do that.” His voice is barely above a whisper.

You furrow your eyebrows and tilt your head. “Do what?”

“Scare me like that. I didn’t – I thought –” he shakes his head, dropping his hand and placing the gauze back in the kit, along with the rubbing alcohol, before closing it and shoving it back under the seat. “Just – you can’t do that.”

“Dean, the storm came out of nowhere. We’ve split up on hunts so many –”

“And it’s never my idea!” he interrupts.

“What do you want me to say, Dean!? ‘I’m sorry that God decided to flood the earth again while we were out hunting werewolves’!? I am fine , okay? I can handle –”

He cups your face in his cold hands, careful to avoid the fresh cut on your cheek. “I don’t doubt that you can handle yourself. But I can’t lose you, do you get that?” His face is inches away from yours, and the flashlight slips out of your hands and onto the floor as your breath catches in your throat. The radio starts playing the all-too familiar beginning chords of Night Moves , and you can’t bring yourself to do anything but nod. Dean tucks a strand of wet hair behind your ear. “I can’t lose you,” he whispers.

“I know,” you reply breathily. You place your hand over his again. “You won’t, De.”

The corner of his mouth lifts up into a brief half smile – one that you would have missed had you not been watching his every move. His thumb brushes over your bottom lip with a feather-light touch, and all you can hear is the radio and the rain.

“Your lips are freezing,” he comments, not-so-subtly (in true Dean fashion).

“Shame there’s no way to warm them,” you whisper back, biting back a smile.

“Hm,” he smirks, leaning in. “I can think of a way.”

You close your eyes as his lips meet yours, instantly sending warmth back into your body. Night Moves is still playing, and you ignore the irony as you kiss him back like not freezing to death depends on it. It’s not your first kiss with Dean, but it’s the first one that feels like it really means something, like you could be more than just friends who hook up occasionally. His hands move from your face to your jacket, unzipping it before he helps peel it off your body, your wet skin making everything a thousand times harder. He carelessly throws it into the front seat before his lips move to your neck and he works on getting his own top layer off. He finds your sweet spot right under your ear, one that sends warm shivers down your spine, and then his hands are back on your body, finding their way underneath your soaked shirt, trailing up your sides. His palms feel warm against your skin, and you don’t know if it’s the heat blasting through the vents or the adrenaline pumping through your veins, but you’ve never been hotter.

The two of you separate for a few seconds and tug off the remainder of your clothes, everything landing in a nice pile on the front seat — muddy boots included. The cleanliness of his car is the last thing Dean is concerned about right now.

You feel a lot more comfortable naked — meaning, you’re only wet where you want to be now — and you lean back in the seat, your head resting against the door, as Dean hovers over you, taking you in. The flashlight on the ground was your only source of light with the moonlight blocked out by the storm still raging outside.

“You’re beautiful,” he states, not like an opinion, but like it’s an undeniable fact. Like if you were to look up ‘beautiful’ in the dictionary right now you’d find a picture of your face.

You smile. “Thank you.”

His finger traces your jaw bone, his thumb gently outlines the scrape on your cheek. “I don’t think it’s gonna scar,” he says. You love it when he’s like this: pure and unfiltered, saying exactly what he’s thinking when he’s thinking it.

You chuckle softly. “Good. Be real ugly if it did.”

His expression turns serious. “No it wouldn’t.” He states that like it’s a fact too, and you have no choice but to accept it.

“Okay. It would be pretty badass, I guess,” you concede.

He smiles and nods, leaning down to kiss you softly, quickly, before pulling back and whispering, “Yeah, it would.”

He trails his kisses down your jaw, neck, collarbone, and you catch the next song on the radio — Feels Like the First Time — and roll your eyes and try not to laugh because of course . You’re brought back to the present when Dean’s mouth wraps around your nipple, his tongue flicking over the hardened bud as your hands instantly come to grip his wet hair.

“Fuck,” you breathe, back arching off the leather seat, and he chuckles softly before releasing you with a ‘pop’.

“That’s the plan, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes again, but they quickly close as he moves to give your right nipple some attention, gently pinching the other between his thumb and pointer finger. Your moans cause his cock to twitch, and you feel it against your inner thigh, imagining what it must look like right now.

“Please,” you beg, and you both know exactly what for. He gladly returns his lips to yours, before nestling himself comfortably (or as comfortable as one can get in the backseat of a ‘67 Chevy) between your legs, still damp and sticky from the rain. He kisses you hard as he enters you slowly, and you moan into his mouth as you adjust to his size. Nothing’s ever felt so good.

“Jesus,” he breathes, pulling away momentarily and bracing himself with one hand on the fogged up window as he bottoms out and stays there, looking down at you like you’re the only thing that matters to him, and right now, you are. “Mm, fuck .” He starts to move, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck, his hot breath and soft groans doing nothing to help stall the tightening coil in your abdomen. “‘m never letting you out of my sight again,” he whispers.

All you can do is nod; he feels so good, you never want him to stop.

“Can’t fuckin’ lose you,” he mumbles, his face coming to hover above yours as he cups your unscathed cheek with his free hand. “You hearin’ me?” He shakes his head. “I can’t.”

You nod again, a little more aggressively this time. “I know, Dean. You won’t,” you reassure him through unsteady breaths. It’s your turn to shake your head. “You won’t.”

You hadn’t noticed his thrusts speeding up, too lost in your emotions until he hits a spot that you didn’t even know you had.

“Oh, fuck ,” you hiss, arching your back. “Fuck, right there.”

He listens, picking up the pace ever so slightly, his lips on your neck again, his heavy pants in your ear. “Shit, sweetheart, you feel so good.” He’s breathing so hard it’s barely audible, but you hear it clear as day, and it’s what brings you to the edge.

“Fuck, Dean, I’m gonna —”

“Me too, me too.”

And then you’re tensing underneath him as a wave of pleasure washes over you, his cock twitching inside you as he fills you up, and he’s holding himself up on trembling forearms, desperately trying not to collapse on top of you as the exhaustion from the day finally hits you both like a tidal wave. Through heavy breathing you notice that it’s still pouring outside — probably deeming you stuck here on this no name road until it lets up — and that You Shook Me All Night Long is playing on the radio, and you can’t help but giggle softly and shake your head.

“What?” he questions, confused.

“I think both the weather and the radio are demanding that we go again.”

TAGLIST(S)

If you signed up for my taglist but don’t see your name below, it’s because Tumblr won’t let me tag you!

FOREVERS: @writercole // @makeadealwithdean // @slamminmine // @impala1967dwinchester // @wayward-dreamer // @stiles-stilinski-24-dylan // @deandreamernp // @kitkatd7 // @thewritersaddictions // @foxyjwls007 // @kyjey // @boeshaneboy // @besas-stuff // @babypink224221 // @stoneyggirl2 // @440mxs-wife // @sexyvixen7 // @samsgirl93 // @alwayssnivellus // @simpfoegeorge // @ajordan2020

SUPERNATURAL: @deans-baby-momma // @cookiechipdough // @roonyxx // @jassackles // @roseblue373 // @redbarn1995

DEAN WINCHESTER: @perpetualabsurdity // @lyarr24 // @solarrexplosion // @rach5ive // @akshi8278 // @pink-sparkly-witch // @emoryhemsworth // @whore4romance // @themerc-with-a-mouth

You can join my taglist(s) here!

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester fanfiction

2K notes · View notes