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bwere · 4 days

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SUKUNA R. LITTLE MISS SECRETARY

wc: 5.4k

DO YOU HAVE AN APPOINTMENT MASTERLIST

sukuna ryomen. notorious for firing his secretaries left and right—and despite the constant doting from your peers’ of this, you apply for an interview. if he wont take assurance in your words, what better way than to prove them—right?

warnings: modern!au, ceo!au, creampię, pssy eating, slight spnking, degradation, seduction, mentions of bawls, raw-doggin’, semi-exhibitionism, deęp-throating, filthy smut. not proofread entirely, may seem repetitive until updated.

[11:00am]

Ryomen Sukuna, infamous for firing his secretaries without regard for their backgrounds or talents. Their appearance—whether pretty or plain—held no sway; if Sukuna disagreed, they were promptly shown the door.

Gojo leaned back in his chair. Shoes kicked up on the table, rocking his weight to make the chair aloft above the floor in the slightest - before it clunks back down. "Are you sure you're up for this? You do know his secretaries don't even last a week before they're fired, right?"

"Or quit." Geto chimed in with an obnoxious slurp of his drink.

Gojo shrugged. "Exactly my point, even if he does hire you—I'd give it like a week tops."

It wasn’t as if you didn’t know–you were more than aware. And still, you chose to ignore their crude remarks.

Shoko, who had been silently observing the interaction, finally interjected. Her voice, a soothing balm, countered the mounting concern. "Gentlemen," she asserted, "I think our friend has had her fill of the negativity you keep putting in her head."

"Thank you, Shoko." You retorted, emphasizing her name with a sigh that mingled thankfulness with a teasing nuance.

"But I'm- you knoww, juust curious," Shoko persisted, her eyes searching yours for an answer. “What makes you want to take up the role of a secretary for him?”

Your friends' questioning looks prompted a brief moment of reflection. Why indeed? The challenge, the thrill, the chance to prove yourself? You knew the answer, but articulating it seemed more discouraging than facing the notorious Ryomen Sukuna himself.

Ryomen Sukuna, a name that sent tremors down spines, loomed large in the headlines. And here you were, recommended for a position under him. Why did you persist, knowing the outcome was likely to remain unchanged?

Your reputation as an efficient secretary preceded you, effortlessly navigating past employers. Your serious organization and unwavering commitment to schedules impressed every employer you’ve worked for.

Much like any employer, they clung to their stubbornness, refusing to acknowledge your skills or consider promoting you.

Why? Pure greed.

To make matters worse, you were never compensated fairly for keeping their businesses afloat. Instead, your hard work was consistently overlooked, and someone else often claimed credit for your accomplishments.

You begin to speak, recounting your past experiences, your friends gather around, hanging on every word. "Well, each of my previous bosses had their quirks. Mr. Tanaka was all about efficiency. He'd have me schedule his meetings back-to-back, with no breaks. Taught me how to manage a tight calendar."

Shoko sighed. "Sounds exhausting."

You continued, "Yup. Then there was Ms. Sato. Brilliant mind, but her focus skills were...lacking.”

Geto chuckled, “That’s a bit brutal, isn’t it? No mercy from you, I see.”

Gojo’s infectious barks of laughter echoes through the coffee shop, turning heads as patrons look over in frowns. “Ouch!” he cries out, feigning injury as Shoko’s elbow connects with a harsh nudge.

“Welll…it’s just that, I practically ran the office for her. It's pretty much where I learned to foresee everyone's needs and you know, take initiative."

"And Oh! Let's not forget Mr. Yamada," you spoke up with a huff.

“Uh Oh, not Mr. Yamada…” Gojo mocks teasingly, faking a dramatic gasp as he throws his hands in the air.

“Ah, yes Mr. Yamada,” you play along with Gojo’s theatrics, your voice laced with mock solemnity. “He was such a stickler for details. I’m talking—everything had to be perfect from reports to the scuffs on my shoes... So much that perfection became my middle name, if I must add.”

Gojo laughed. "He sounds more controlling than anything."

"More or less," you affirmed. "Though, each one taught me something valuable. That's why I think I can handle Mr. Ryomen. He's just another challenge to overcome."

Your friends shared glances, their expressions a blend of respect and worry. They understood the futility of doubting your capabilities. Your reputation for transforming challenges into triumphs was well-established.

“T’ah, Indeed, it would be a poor decision on his part to let you go,” Geto concurred, not once doubting your value.

“More like he’d be a serious idiot if he did.” Gojo said, his eyes rolling comically in a show of hatred for the entire idea.

“Besides,” you added with a smirk, “I’ve always enjoyed a good challenge. And Mr. Ryomen? He’s the Everest of bosses. Conquering that peak would be quite the resume highlight, don’t you think?”

Shoko’s giggles joined the chorus of agreement. “Truly, if there’s someone who can manage the notorious Sukuna, it’s you.”

Eventually, the conversation dove through a tapestry of topics, the cafe becoming a cocoon of your shared jokes and light-hearted banter.

Time, on the other hand—had places to be.

As your eyes landed on the plastic clock perched near the register. The benign ticking was a stark reminder that the afternoon’s grace period had expired, stabbing you back as remembrance of your planned afternoon kicked in.

“Oh my gosh- that clock right? Is it 11:30 already?” Your drink almost tipping over as you leaped to your feet.

Shoko’s eyes mirrored your alarm. “Isn’t your interview scheduled for 12?”

“Yes! How could it slip my mind?” A rush of urgency overtook you as you snatched up your belongings, the voices of your friends merging into a symphony of encouragement and last-minute tips as you dashed through the door and made a beeline for your car.

“Knock em’ dead!!"

[11:35am]

The name ‘COMPANY REP’ plastered on your phone’s lock screen, peering over as your phone flashed through your peripheral view. Feeling a wave of pressure as you read the name, it was Uraume, the representative for Ryomen.

Shit—you were still a good distance from the company’s location, about an exit to be precise.

Grabbing your phone from the cup holder, you tapped the green icon to answer. Uraume’s voice crackling through the speaker. “Hello, I’m just checking in about your interview for the secretary role at noon.”

You rose back from the steering wheel, as if it's inscribed in your memory to adopt a more formal posture as the cacophony of honking horns invaded the air around you. “Hello,” you responded, keeping your voice cheerful and composed.

“I’m on my way right now; I got caught up in a lunch rush.” You chuckled, hoping to ease the tension. “But I promise, I’ll be there.”

“Very well,” the representative said, their voice smooth. “I’ll be waiting by the elevator on the top floor when you arrive.”

Soon after, the line went dead, leaving you with an itching sense of anxiety.

For a moment, the thought of 'accidentally' skipping the next exit crossed your mind and boy did it sound good right about now.

But could you honestly deny the interest that lit within you? What might lay beyond those translucent doors—an opportunity for a fresh start, perhaps? Or was it the hand of destiny at play? Regardless, you stood ready for whatever awaited you.

[11:57am]

The clock in your head seemed to tick impatiently as you rushed toward the imposing glass doors of the corporation. Your interview was scheduled for noon, and you were already cutting it dangerously close.

You dashed through the revolving doors, the sound of your heels punctuating the quiet of the marble lobby. Approaching the front desk, as you requested a temporary ID pass. “Good afternoon, I’m here for the secretary position interview at 12 p.m.”

“Oh yeah! Uraume mentioned your appointment. Here’s your guest pass. The elevator to your left will take you straight to the top floor,” the receptionist replied.

“Thank you kindly,” you responded with a gracious smile.

“No problem, I’ll inform Uraume that you’re on your way up.” she added.

Pass in hand, you pivoted toward the elevator. The cool marble underfoot seemed to resonate with the flutter of nerves within you. The rhythmic click of your heels on the stone served as a metronome to your thoughts, each step a beat closer to a potentially life-changing interview.

The elevator was a sleek, modern contraption, its steel doors reflecting your anxious expression. You pressed the button for the top floor, and as the doors slid shut, you were enclosed in a small, quiet world. The only sound was the tinny melody of the elevator, a constant drone that mirrored your heart's unkempt thump.

As the elevator climbed, thoughts tumbled through your mind. Was stepping into this role the correct move? With the odds stacked against success, what made you different? Doubts swirled in your mind, each one more insistent than the last.

Soon, the elevator came to a lurching stop, and you were pulled from your thoughts. As doors slid open, you were greeted by the sight of Uraume, whose presence was like a beacon, cutting through the fog of your doubts.

Well shit, no turning back now.

Emerging from the elevator your eyes met with Uraume’s. Their face gave nothing away, yet their voice carried a note of caution. "I’d advise you to mind your words with Mr. Ryomen. He has little patience for ignorance."

You hummed with a tentative nod, you seemed to be endlessly made aware of Mr. Ryomen's reputation. Especially since your friends found out you were going to this interview—not a second went by where they didn’t bring it up. You felt as if you understood more than anyone how some barely lasted a day.

With a determined pep in your step, you proceeded down the dimly lit corridor, Uraume's silent presence a step behind.

Mr. Ryomen or rather—Sukuna, was a man of striking features, no doubt. His salmon-colored hair was always impeccably styled, and his piercing eyes held an intensity that could make anyone’s heart prone to failure. His sharp jawline was accentuated by a usually neatly shaven face, and his tailored suits always seemed too tight around his muscular build. He carried an air of authority and charisma that was both intimidating and captivating.

His allure extended beyond mere aesthetics. As one of the nation's elite CEOs, his reputation was built on groundbreaking tactics and bold leadership. His guidance propelled the company to new heights of prosperity and influence, cementing its status as a powerhouse in the business world.

Sukuna’s popularity was not just about his charisma either; it was his professional acumen that had everyone vying for his attention. Aspiring candidates flocked, eager for the chance to bask in his aura and absorb his energy. Expectably, they fell short. Sukuna’s expectations seemed to soar to stratospheric levels, ones that even NASA would find daunting to align with.

And you’d be lying if you didn’t find yourself wondering what it could be like by his side. Waking up everyday with a pool in your panties—because you’d get to see your attractive boss calling your name by his side with need.

As Sukuna’s success and influence grew, so did his reluctance to admit the need for support. The absence of a secretary began to take its toll on the productivity of his team, especially his representative’s.

Snapping you out of your thoughts as Uraume halted just before Sukuna’s office door. “Good luck,” they offered, before making their way back to the elevator. You adjusted your form-fitting dress, a mix of poise and nerves. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you knocked with a dense one, two - three on the door.

"You may enter."

[12:02pm]

As you step into his office, the reality of the situation settles in.

Here was the man who had graced countless headlines, a visionary whose name was synonymous with success. Though, as terrifyingly lurking as the prospect was, you were determined to not just be another face in the crowd.

This was your chance, the moment of truth. Most of which people never got.

As your gaze met his, there was an undeniable pull towards the depth of his eyes, a fierce intensity that held a world of ambition and insight.

It's as if his gaze was trying to unravel you, like pieces of a puzzle, but you don't let it.

Sukuna sat there, the very picture of corporate elegance, his presence commanding the space around him. His scent, bespoke and expensive, filled the room with an air of dominance, while his hair, a striking shade of muted pink with whispers of black, framing his face perfectly.

Your heart races, but not out of fear – no, it's exhilaration. This is what you’ve prepared for, all those late nights, every challenging task, every impossible deadline you’ve made possible.

He caught you in the act of admiring him, a knowing smirk proud on his lips. "Enjoyin’ the view?" he tugs, before his expression shifted to one of business-like seriousness. "Uraume has mentioned your potential. It’d be best not to waste that."

The challenge was set, and the interview began.

“Thank you,” you replied, trying to keep your nerves in check. “I’ve always believed in simplicity.”

His eyebrow arched. “Simplicity?”

“Yes,” you said, leaning forward. “Complexity often masks inefficiency. A straightforward approach can yield remarkable results.”

He leaned back, intrigued. “Most people stumble over their words when they meet me.”

“You’ll find…” you begin, holding his gaze with unwavering poise, “that I’m not one to follow the common trend.”

Tilting his head to the side, his eyes narrow. “That remains to be seen.”

For the next few minutes, the interview wove through a conversation of intellect and subtlety. You navigated his inquiries with finesse, sidestepped the snares he laid, and even managed to steal a laugh from him. As time ticked on, a frisson of worry tinged your nerves, Uraume's cautionary words a distant murmur.

Sukuna's voice, a resonant timbre, stirred the air. His incisive gaze seemed to dissect your very thoughts. "Enlighten me, what makes you believe you deserve the job of working for me?"

You inhaled deeply, your reply sulking in assurance, "Mr. Ryomen, my expertise aligns perfectly with your needs. And when it comes to managing your expectations," you trailed, a sly smile plastering on your lips, "I have a knack for exceeding them in the most unexpected ways."

His eyes locked with yours, unwavering. "You're confident you're the one?"

"Without a doubt," you affirmed. "It's often the unassuming key that unlocks the door to brilliance."

He reclined, a contemplative shadow crossing his features. His stare never faltered. "You have a way with words," he observed, a trace of vindication in his voice.

"However, words alone are commonplace. Tell me, how will you demonstrate that you're more than just a woman with commendable references?"

You collected your thoughts, your confidence unshaken. "Mr. Ryomen," you began, your tone imbued with conviction, "I'm a believer in the showance of action. Grant me the chance, and I assure you, my performance will not only meet but eclipse your…high standards."

Wonder sparked in his eyes, a subtle smile embarking at the corners of his mouth. "Oh?" he intoned, the word hanging in the air, ripe with expectation. "Well then, I await the proof of your claims, Miss…?" His tone dipped, a whisper of question in the quiet space between you.

"Think of me as your right hand, Mr. Ryomen," you replied softly, your voice steady despite the intensity of the moment. "I'm here to ensure that your every need is met, with precision and a personal touch."

His gaze was unyielding, tracking your every movement, a longing in the depths of his eyes. He observed you closely, a silent notice of your boldness. The air between you was charged, a palpable tension that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

Without waiting for a response, you motion around the desk. Circling the desk with calculated steps, you maintained eye contact, now before him. Mere inches away from his face—the moment was ripe with possibility, the beginning of a partnership that could redefine the very essence of collaboration.

And slowly, you begin to unbutton your dress, exposing a bra with lace details that drew attention to your tender breasts.

"I'll be your right hand in the office," you murmur, letting your dress slide off your shoulders, just barely baring your smooth, supple skin. "And your left hand..." You trace his strong jawline with your fingers, savoring the slight stubble. "...whenever you crave a touch of pleasure."

Sukuna's eyes darken in covetous as he sinks in your intentions. "Impressive initiative, but it'll take more than that to convince me, beautiful. I have very specific requirements and expectations that need to be met."

Unpersuaded, you choose to escalate your lure on him. Feeling the firmness of his growing erection pressing against your thighs, you straddle his lap. Your grin - sluggish, your folds damp with elation in your panties as you hush, "I plan to take care of all of your needs, Mr. Ryomen. Actually—I intend to surpass them."

[12:30pm]

His breath retracted, as you pressed your soft breasts against his pecs and began to undo his suit jacket, exposing his toned, muscular chest.

Your fingers trailed down his warm skin, sending goosebumps through his body as you explicitly avoided the growing bulge in his slacks.

“Mmm, Mr. Ryomenn—I know you’re aching," you murmur, your fingertips tantalizingly weaving over his torso. "And I have just the perfect remedy to alleviate that stress. Shall I show you?"

Sukuna nods in agreement, his eyes broadening, feeling a surge of lust that leaves him thirsty. The curiosity about your limits conquering over his mind.

You slip off his lap, your body slithering to the floor on your knees, your lips forming up into an enticing grin. With slow, careful manuvers, you undo his belt and unzip his fly, peeling the material back to release his thick, hard cock. A soft moan escapes your lips as you take in the sight of his length, throbbing with urgent need.

You take the tip into your comforting, wet mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive head, tasting the sweet dribbles of pre-cum. Humming with delight, sending vibrations through his core as you take in more of him, sucking gently.

Sukuna's eyes just want to roll back in pure pleasure—a deep groan escaping his lips. "Mnh, is that tha’ best you can do?" His right hand rests atop your head, ghostingly guiding you as to respect your pace.

It’s all just motivation, as you suck harder, taking him deeper until your eyes start to water from the intensity. You hollow your cheeks; as you take him the deepest you can go with a gag. Your head bobs up and down, your hands gently cupping his heavy balls.

"That's ittt—suck me, show me how bad y’wanna be m’ lil secretary," he grunts, his hips thrusting in rhythm with your mouth. "That fuckin’ mouth s’gon’ be the death of me."

Your actions are fueled by his words, whining in return as your thighs rub together nothing but static—yearning for some attention. You slip a hand through your panties, slipping a finger in your aching cunt, feening for your own release.

He observes the scene below him, almost studying as you multitask your way through the pleasure. Ensuring not a single strand of his clothing gets into contact with the filthy mix of your saliva and his pre-cum. Admiring the way you finger your dependent pussy, all the while taking him so deep down your throat, managing to slobber down to the base of his cock and swallow everything back up like it never existed.

You take pride in your work, and he was now experiencing it. In fact, if anything it turned him on more. He might even have to make you his toy if you kept on.

Sensing you're close to the edge, Sukuna suddenly pulls his cock out of your throat with a disgusting pop. His cock now drenched in fluids from your lovely torment. “Aht aht, Strip.”

You obey his orders without hesitation, his eyes roaming your body as you strip. Visibly tracing every curve in your silhouette. Fantasizing the things you might have in store for him, his dick twitches against his skin, swelling more and more each second.

“There y’go, stick that ass out f’me.” He stares at you - appetizingly, becoming ravenous at the way you're already hunched over his handcrafted mahogany desk.

In a matter of seconds, purely to provide him a better view.

You braced your weight on the edges of the cold surface. Pressed palms onto the glossy wood—hypnotizing him as you began to squirm your ass in his direction.

"Like this, Mr. Ryomen?" you spoke as if you were completely innocent, your lashes moving in a way that made it appear like you weren't attempting to play coy.

Maybe in another universe he’d fall for it—but not in this one. He delivers a sharp slap to your ass cheek, leaving a stinging sensation that only makes your pussy wetter. "You jus’ keep gettin’ sluttier and sluttier, huh?"

He snakes his veiny hand between your legs, thanks to the pad of his thumb, he prods at your delicate clit, reaching a soft whimper out of your throat. You attempt to clamp your legs together, but his big hands keep them apart as he proceeds to drive two of his fingers deep in you—instantaneously, without any delay.

"You’r so fuckin’ wet f’me." He taunts, his breath hot against your ear. "You like that, don' you?" His fingers slide in and out, his thumb continuously twisting at your burning clit.

"Y-Yes Sir…" you cry out, your body becoming weaker under his touch.

"Sukuna." He cuts off with a sinister chuckle, "Call me Sukuna."

You nod frantically, your hips doing all the talking as you mindlessly drag onto the lengths of his fingers. Grinning wolfishly, he moves his thumb in slow circles, working your clit. "Well, aren't you just a sight for sore fuckin’ eyes?"

"Oh my fuck- it feels so good nmmh!" you breathe out, panting heavily.

“Yeah? I bet.” he laughs, adding a third finger, stretching you out deliciously.

He drove his fingers sickeningly deep into you, your pussy canal squeezing around them, seeking for more.

His persistent botherence made you gasp for air as you fought to keep your composure. Sukuna leaned in, his lips coming into contact with your neck, delivering a forceful bite.

“Mngh–Kuna’ ts’ hurts! P-please I wan’uh cuhm..!-” You cried out, arching your back—grinding your ass further against him in advance.

His fingers gradually came to a quit as he withdrew from your neck.

Your expression crumbling at his actions, “Please- don’ stop.”

But Sukuna doesn't let you have it. He pulls his fingers out of you completely—just as you're prepared to dive over the edge, leaving you empty and writhing in dissatisfaction.

He then raised them to his mouth, never breaking eye contact with you. He savored the taste with an exaggerated moan, letting out a contented sigh.

“You’re so fucking mmhn- delicious.” he murmured.

“Please…”

Sukuna's lips formed a sadistic smile as he lowly chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Please what?"

You picked at your bottom lip with your teeth, your thighs rubbing together like two wet sticks trying to starting a fire. Your pussy begged for more. "Please...fuck me.." you pleaded, your voice trembling.

"Not yet," Sukuna shook his head. "Get on the desk."

You hastily climb onto the desk, heeding to his instructions to avoid wasting any more unnecessary time. Relishing the brash feeling of the cold wood fatally against your back.

You’re embarrassingly exposed now—wide open for the man in front of you. The same man who’s about to search for your soul with his mouth. The same man who doesn’t plan on quitting until your dignities on his tongue–that is, if you had any left.

"Goood girl." He smirks, kneeling down between your legs. Forcefully restricting you from closing your legs as he peels them apart. You can feel the cool air of the room on your wet pussy. Shivering in anticipation as he darts his tongue out. Exploring every inch of your folds as he sucks them apart with hunger.

You possess handfuls of his hair—overflowing around your fingers, moaning as you draw him in suffocatingly. Fleeing your fingers through his strands rougher—when he hits - that spot.

"Mnghm–you’re sh’o fuckin tasty aren’tcha?" he whispers against your clit.

“Hnn…!” Unable to speak or barely catch your breath, you can feel your orgasm building again so easily, except this time you're not going to let him stop you.

He runs his tongue over your clit—your fingertips tightening in his hair as you hold him in place.

You feel his stubble graze your inner thighs, his hot breath fanning over your slick folds, making you needier. He provokes your desperate shouts for more - laughing at how the octaves in your voice only seem to keep raising. But you can't help the moan that escapes your lips when his tongue flicks over your clit.

"Fuck, Sukuna…s’too m-much..!" you breathe.

He’s good—too good at this.

He chuckles against your cunt. His fingers digging snug into your thighs, holding you down as he continues to entice you, not once letting up for air.

“Yeah? Mgnh, s’that why r’you grippin’ m’ hair so fuckin’ mmhnguh tight?—” He licks and sucks on your puffy clit—sliding two of his fingers back inside you, fucking quicker than he did before. He's devouring everything he can like a vacuum - drowning in your folds as he does so.

You're so close, so fucking close, but he still won't let you cum. You can feel the orgasm burning inside you, your whole body tensing up as you try to hold back. But it's no use, you can't fight it any longer.

Sukuna knows it too, and he redoubles his efforts, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring you to the edge. You can feel your breath shortening as you gradually get closer, until you can't take it anymore, your orgasm preparing to rip through you like a freight train.

"Please, Suh-S-Sukuna, can’ h-hold it gon’a…cumnnh!"

He looks up at you, a carnivorous desire in his tone. "Beg for it," he growls, his tongue melting over your clit again.

“Please, Kuna’, I'm begging you. P-Please let me cum…!”

He smirks, the taste buds on his tongue roaming faster over your cunt. "Go on baby, cuhm f’me like a lil slut," he murmurs, his fingers digging into your thighs brutally.

“Ahhnn–S’Kuna n’ cummin’..!” Your whole body quivers as you succumb to his charm, your orgasm overwhelmingly taking you. His tongue sucks on your pussy—gulping down your substances.

Descending from your euphoria, he begins to stand up. His hands, his face, his entire body—now saturated in your concoction.

[1:02PM]

Disregarding his shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. His pants follow quickly after, leaving him standing in front of you with nothing but his boxers. You can see the outline of his hard cock through the fabric, and you can't wait to get your hands on it.

Sukuna hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and timelessly pulled them down. You licked your lips in conviction.

He reached out and cupped your chin in his palm, his thumb smoothing over your jaw. "You want this job don't you?," he whispered, his voice clouded in vanity.

You looked up at him, and nodded—your eyes following his lips.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, Mr—S-Sukuna, I do.” He leaned down and kissed you, his tongue delving deep into your mouth. His lips were on yours, his tongue messily racing through your mouth.

You could feel the heaviness of his cock brushing past your leg, prompting you—of what was coming next.

“Y’gonna keep it all inside like a good girl right? Not g’nna spill any of it?.”

“Mhm! Gonna be a good girl, ‘Kuna..—” He placed his hands on the sides of your head as you laid back—the hard wooden desk becoming your only security. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the scent of his cologne, and sex - becoming intoxicating.

Sukuna moaned into your mouth as you brought a hand below you and started to stroke him, his hips thrusting forward in time with your strokes. Dissolving into your touch before he broke the kiss, he looked down at you.

"Need’ t’be inside you," he seethed.

“M’ all yours, Mr. ‘Kuna…” You wanted him inside you just as much as he wanted to be there.

Sukuna grabbed your calves—hauling you towards the edge of the desk, positioning you so that his cock was aimed methodically at your oh, so—more than ready cunt.

He made a single, resentful, forceful thrust that went deep into you. You inhaled sharply at the newfound fullness, getting used to the feeling of his thick cock surging through your walls.

“Ahnn!..f-fuck-” you hiccuped as he started to fuck you harder. Inevitably slamming himself into you while lowering down to get hold of your hips—using them as leverage.

"Ts’like she’s made f’me," he grunted, his brows are pinched, the sight of sweat accumulating around his eyes, irritably blurring his line of sight. "Tight, wet, ‘nd fuck…perfect for my cock."

Sukuna began to roughly pound into you, each of his thrusts making you scream his name—resembling that of a prayer. His fingers now bruising into the flesh of your hips.

He was relentless, each stroke more forceful than the last. He made your legs weaken as he fucked you soulfully, the desk beneath you visibly quaking with each impact. Creaking with complaints as the legs of the table shook violently.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you with each thrust. You could feel another orgasm ready to burst through, the pleasure coiling within your belly as Sukuna's cock drilled into your guts. You pathetically clung to him, clawing at his back for some sort of stability other than the shaking table underneath you.

The sound of your bodies filled the room as the noise of his balls smashing into your ass reverberated. With every thrust that brought you closer to the brink, you could feel the heat of your own need enveloping inside of you.

"Ahn…! Don't stop, don't stop, p-please..!-" you cried out, your voice hardly audible anymore.

So, of course Sukuna’s only response was to fuck you harder, his hips ramming into yours with a force that made you see stars.

“F-Fuck…y’r cunts gonna squeeze me f-fuckin dry..”

“G-Give it t’me ‘K-Kunauh…!-” You chanted in desperation. His thrusts became more erratic at your vowels, his hips bucking wildly as he approached his own release. You could feel his cock cruelly plowing inside you, assaulting everything in its way, leaving no room for pity.

“Hughn- fuck..fuck…fuck..” He reiterated, guttural moans dropping from his throat as his cock probed inside you, signaling his impending release.

You tightened your muscles around him, you could feel his cum filling you up, each second his cock rested in you, was another second that caused your walls to pulse tight around him, confirming—he didn’t finish until the very last drop. As he subsided you into your own climax, the nubs of your feet kept him still. Milking his cock of anything he had to give as you both came.

[1:29pm]

BRRING BRRING BRRING

Being brought into consciousness, the noise of his office phone pulls you out of your lucidity—your naked bodies sweaty and worn yet, still exuding warmth from one another.

"Fuck," he grunted, pulling away from you and reaching for the phone.

"Ryomen here," he sighs into the receiver, his expression glum as he listens to his receptionist's next words.

Whilst you hurriedly put your clothes back on, you maintain your eyes on him, your body still stiff from the unnerving orgasms he had just tore from you. Sore from the constant torment he had inflicted upon your insides like a curse.

A curse you hoped for.

"Yes, I know, but I'm in the middle of something right now," Sukuna said, his eyes flicking over to you.

With a smile on your face, you gestured to him to continue.

"I want it to be canceled," Sukuna kept on, his eyes never leaving yours.

The voice on the other end of the line stuttered, “But s-sir, it’s an important meet-”

Sukuna cut her off, his tone firm. “I said cancel it. I’m busy.”

“But Mr. Ryomen, the client…-”

“I don’t care.” Sukuna interrupted again, his gaze still locked with yours. His eyes were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh tone he was using on the phone. “You scheduled it, so cancel it.”

He hung up and tossed the phone back onto his desk without any thought. He smiled softly as he turned back to face you.

“Now…where were we?”

You couldn’t help but giggle, the tension from the phone call dissipating. “I think…we were at the part where you tell me if I got the job or not.”

Sukuna erupted with laughter, amused. He grins "Is that right?"

“Tsk–well, in that case...” he paused, calamity radiating in his charming smile. “Better start memorizin' the way I like my tea.”

You laughed against his words, your voice resonating through his office. “And how is that?” you asked.

“Two sugars, dash of milk, brewed strong. Don’t forget.”

“Two sugars, a dash of milk, anddd brewed strong,” you repeated, a cheeky smile on your lips. “Got it.”

“Good.”

TAGLIST (if tag isn’t grey, i could not tag. also if you keep getting tagging notifications the taglist keeps glitching so I apologise): @jotarohat @lxchlaouch @izuuzuxuzuzu @nyamocka @deepenthevoid @shitpostathon-nbpw @yaygurist @sadityb230 @qlorin @partr1dge @mikyapixie @ventila98 @aydene @kizzyxren @tananaxx @tojideckmuncher @httpstoyosi @is-belluvism @shinrjj @sephraee @c4rm1son @theiridescentdragon @spindyl @guacam011y @brianmaysclog @sexicherri3 @kukigirli @puran-poli @ilivefortheleague @freakquencys @6demonize6me6 @mmeharuno @domainexpansionmypants @mermaidian02 @no-regrets-just-confusion @qv4nx11 @seelevoellerei @iloveboysinred @hoesbeforebros101 @glossygreene @kivrumi @distinguishedlove @ssetsuka @thisuserdrinkslavendertea @love-me-satoru @tyke2219 @paprikaquinn @skunkfeet @suguruswiifey @oidloid

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screampied · 7 months

Text

FANTASIZE. — GOJO SATORU. ☆

synopsis: it's the middle of the night and your mascara's streaming down your face. man, breakups are the worst-so what do you do? go to your fwb for "comfort." he gives you comfort, alright. ★

wc: 4.7k+

warnings: fwb trope , pwp, quickie , size kink, dacryphilia, degradation, unprotected sex, mating press, breeding, overstimulation, oral [m], face-fucking, praise kink, dumbification kink, pet names, hair pulling, not yet proofread

an: my first request!! Heavily based off Ariana's "fantasize" bcos that song iz still stuck in my head :/

3:29 A.M

you: wake up. please.

typing . . .

gojo: girl.. it's like three am.

you: you know why i'm texting u this late, satoru.

typing . . .

gojo: oh yeahh, true. well? come over then ;)

seen

you were on gojo's doorstep in nothing but some two year old university hoodie and a simple skirt, despite it being around the middle of the night, you couldn’t sleep, and you needed any sorts of distraction from your previous breakup. mascara raced down both sides of your cheeks, practically sticking to your skin, you were a devastating mess—sniffling, you wipe your eyes once the door creeks open, and there he is.

“i gotta say, babe. your taste in men is pretty shitty,” he scratches his head with a simple shrug. he chuckles, spotting you shoot him a glare from his peripherals as he held his front door open for you to step inside. “…then again, you always come crawling back to me after getting dumped so-”

“i didn’t come here to talk.” you sighed, slipping off your shoes before staring directly up at him.

“oh, i know.” he smiles with reassurance in his voice, almost as if he was mocking you. “this the part where i take my pants off right? baby, even if you’re all heartbroken, you’re still so so predictable..”

“…damn, no f-foreplay?” he nervously smiles, averting his eyes towards you—gojo wore nothing but simple sweats, grey at that, his hair was slightly messy but it made him ten times more attractive. a simple tank top covered his abdomen, and you could just about make out his ripped pecs just poking through the thin cloth piece of fabric.

you didn’t wanna waste any time, he could tell by the way you just easily shoved him with ease, against his own bed. you started to feel yourself throb, just having your fingers tangled against the thin white strings of his sweatpants. “shut up.” you mumbled, starting to pull his pants down.

“ya sure you wanna go down on me, babe? that gag reflex of yours—”

“satoru.” you glared, and he just smiles, so eager to use every second to get under your skin. but god, was he annoying. he knew he was too, the both of you knew it, gojo satoru was just purely infuriating.

sometimes you wonder why you’ve been fucking him on the low. of course not during your relationships, but he was the only person there for you in the aftermath, the only one there to comfort you, so to speak. even if that particular way was to be inside you—alas, if it was anything gojo was good at, it was fucking you. making you forget about your shitty exes. it was just something he knew how to do. he knew how to do it right too. gojo was a perfectionist after all.

“gonna suck me off with cute tears streamin’ down y’er face, yeah?” he praises, bringing a hand towards your hair, giving the crown of your head a light stroke, it’s soothing. though it causes you to let off a soft whine, feeling yourself start to throb just a bit more just from his strong, loud cologne scent that scattered across the entire room. “look at me while you do, then. wanna see that pretty face while it gets ruined.”

“your dirty talk is improving.” you sulked, and it makes gojo the one glaring at you now—it's cute.

gojo doesn't reply.

instead, he wraps a hand slightly around the back of your neck, bringing your face close towards his bright white briefs. rubbing your face against his bulge and he grunts. “shame how you make me hard even with that annoying bratty mouth of yours.”

after that little snarky remark, gojo couldn’t wait anymore. he was getting impatient, and your teasing wasn’t helping. he stares at you, watching you with close intent on the way you pull down his boxers just halfway, leaning in close enough to give his shaft a nice long lick, from his base to his very reddened coloured tip.

“s-shit.” he grunts, and you keep your eyes remained on him the entire time, his grey sweats were just visibly pulled down to his ankles as he sat up near the very edge of his un-made up bed.

gojo lets off a soft sigh, and it's more of a grunt with the way his voice pitches—his legs spread just a bit, a hand rubs against his leg. your tongue softly swipes against the head of his cock and he nibbles on his lip a little to quiet himself.

he gets a bit of shivers, feeling the very tip of your tongue playfully caress the few veins that poked out on his dick. gojo was surprisingly well trimmed, just a few tiny specks of white hair covering near the lower part of his base, but he was heavy and oh was he hefty as well. gojo satoru was the epitome of a 'packer.'

“open that mouth. tired of waitin’,” he grumbles, and he’s growing so frustrated, you can tell from his facial expressions and the way he kept shifting on the cushions. your blink at him, slowly opening your mouth before he intakes a sharp breath. “stick out y’er tongue, babe.”

you do, lolling it out and gojo grunts, wrapping his fingers around his dick before slowly slapping his thickness against your tongue. “think you deserve it?”

a pout makes its way against your lips, you were eager, whines were getting pulled from you at his consistent teasing and him slapping his pretty glossed tip against your tongue. all you could do was nod, you were on your knees while he was sat upright near the very edge of the bed.

“nuh uh,” he clicks his tongue, bringing a hand towards the back of your head to give hair a light pull, moving your head just slightly in a moving rotation. “need 'ta hear you say ya want me, gorgeous.”

what an egotistical jerk.

you wondered why you put up with someone as such as gojo satoru, but then you remembered. he always knew how to fuck good.

“i- i want you, satoru. i want it..” you mewled, the mess between your legs only making you dampen more and more. your thighs squeezed shut against each other as it was hidden beneath your pretty plaid skirt, and once you voice those sweet words. gojo lets off a cheerful yet cocky hum, using a hand to open your mouth just a bit before pushing himself inside.

it’s been a while since you sucked him off, usually it’d be him to eat you out. for hours, not to mention.

“shit,” he curses, feeling you immediately waste no time, wrapping your lips around his cock. your lashes fluttered before glancing up at him. gojo stares right back down at you—his abs flex beneath his shirt and it's sexy, his posture is even attractive. gojo’s slouching a bit with one leg stretched towards his side, it doesn’t take that much long before his eyes start to seductively go back, along with his uneven pink lips opening just a bit to breathe and pant. “missed y’er slutty throat, babe. always know how ‘ta suck it good.”

you wrap a hand swiftly around his base, and your head starts to bobble up and down, he was huge and his girth only doubled that.

your tongue meets against a few of his veins and he grunts, grabbing a fistful of your hair.

“must have been hungry, yeah?” he pants, faking a pout on his lips as he pushes you down just a bit further on his length. you nod, using as much of your own spit as you can to make the experience more pleasurable for him—who were you kidding though? you just wanted to forget.

about everything, your heartbreak, the past arguments, literally everything.

“shit, with a face that pretty,” he huffs out, growing more hornier from your tongue sliding and grazing against his tip. “gotta fuck it, babe.”

you start to gag just a bit once gojo tilts his hips forward a bit and he starts to thrust in your mouth. your nails dig into his thighs, wanting for him to continue and he swipes a thumb across your cheek that was full of your ruined mascara from crying many hours ago. “good girl. you should be cryin’ like this, not wastin’ those pretty tears because of some scumbag.”

you whined, reaching down to play with yourself just a bit, still sucking him off and trying your best not to use your teeth. “eyes on me, babe,” he reminds you, tapping the side of your temple and you’re just about weak in the knees.

you started second-guessing yourself, there had to be some reasonable reason why gojo fucked better than any of your exes, boyfriends, anyone.

even if it killed you to say it, you had to admit, he knew just how to please a woman—especially if that woman was you. you knew you had to be careful though, gojo wasn’t the type of guy to settle down in a relationship, he made that known the moment you two started your little 'fling.' if you could even call it that, friends with benefits.

were you starting to … fall for him? damn, that would be bad to say the least. outside the bedroom, gojo would always tease you, he was more so playful and of course, flirty.

“think 'm getting close,” he pants, and his breathing patterns change, and your head just goes up and down—he’s got a good strong grip on some strands of your hair as he watches you with dilated pupils, the way your tongue works around his tips sends him shivers, his leg starts to bounce as he’s chasing his incoming anticipation.

the build up, it makes his mouth go dry that he’s almost speechless, which is so ironic because of how he’s literally always talking your ear off.

“fuck, doing so good f'r me,” he says, and his voice starts to get a bit whiney from how sensitive he’s growing. that feeds your ego just a little, just knowing that you’re making him like this. all just from your tongue, and maybe a little bit of stimulation.

gojo moans, feeling your tongue flick against the frenulum part of his dick and he pauses for a moment, the way his eyes roll back just a bit was so sexy—that was one way to make you throb even more, and it certainly did.

your tongue runs up and up, almost as if it was a race and he’s so close to loosing focus. he’s not thrusting his hips into your mouth anymore, instead he plops flat on his back against the bed. you giggle, standing up while your mouth was still attached to his soon-to-be flaccid dick.

“c-cumming,” he grunts, watching your own drool pour down your chin. you were so messy, you couldn’t help it. it was one of the many things gojo loved about you, actually. once he came, he shakes a bit. shuddering, and letting off a cute moan, he catches his breath as you look at him with half-open eyes. “swallow ‘n show me, baby.”

within seconds later, you swallow his load and it tastes sweet, yet bitter. your eyes squeezed shut for a moment before you stuck your tongue out again, and he brushes a thumb against your chin to remove your spit.

“cock hungry whore,” he whines, still catching his breath before leaning down towards you only to squeeze your cheeks together. “now gimme a kiss.”

you whined, sitting up to kiss gojo and he wraps a hand around your waist, tasting himself on your lips, his tongue drags against yours and you whimper before making your way onto his lap. he chuckles at your enthusiasm, sliding a hand up and down your waist slowly to make you moan even more for him.

after a few moments, gojo pulls away to breathe until both hands of his attach to your waist. his gaze was just enticing, you could tell he wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

“barely touched ya and you're nothin' but a sticky mess,” he grunts, and gojo snickers once he feels you start to grind and grind your hips against him sensually, you’re so needy and desperate for more of his touch. “walkin’ around with no panties, don’t tell me you’re just a dumb slut who just wants a crumb of dick.”

“satoru—please.” you begged, aching and itching for him to be inside already. he trails his lengthy fingers against your ass, no panties behind displayed and all you had covering you, just barely, was a plaid skirt. he grins, giving your ass a two-second squeeze before spanking it to hear you whine out. “fuck me satoru.”

“fine.” he says, stroking your chin to reach down between your legs. you moan and that single motion makes your back arch whilst your hands were thrown over his shoulders. “go slow baby, don’t want you to hurt y’erself.”

“shut t-the fuck up.” you whined, barely able to keep up your facade. gojo’s dick hovered against your achy folds. just a few inches and he’d be inside, just imagining him fucking you ruthlessly made your mouth start to water, you were hungry for it.

'desperate' was the perfect word to describe you.

“how ‘bout ya make me, hmm.” he teases, and he was so cheeky. you hated it, but then again, the way he fucks you always made up for it.

no reply.

instead of using words, you decided to let your pussy do the talking. aligning yourself against him, gojo sits upright with such a cocky grin. “go slow, babe. wouldn’t want ya to hurt yourself. been a while since i've—shit…” he pauses before nervously smiling. “…been inside this tight pussy.”

it was warm, you chewed on your bottom lip as you sank down on him, immediately leaning into him to give him… a hug?

gojo was just as surprised as you, it seemed you were acting a bit different. of course you’d be, you’d just gotten out a relationship. so you’d tend to be a bit more clingy than usual. not that he ever minded, he preferred you like this, so cute and sentimental, all in your feelings. but despite that, it was just sex and nothing more.

or was it?

“fuck,” you moaned, practically straddling him now. gojo’s hair is messy, it’s all in his face, white stands splattered all across his forehead to where it was just effortlessly attractive. he didn’t even have to do much to make you pulse between your legs. “quit looking at me.”

“but you’re so pretty when you try to take control,” he shrugs, flashing a cheesy grin and you’re just embarrassed. he was certainly enjoying this, getting underneath your skin. and you let him.

every.

single.

time.

your lips tremor as you whimper, he’s nearly all the way inside and he stretched out your cunt, you’re dizzy out of nowhere and your eyes get a bit droopy—but fuck, gojo’s amused, using one hand to rub down your back as you start to rock your hips against him, biting down hard on your bottom lip as the tip of his cock mashed and kisses against your sensitive areas.

“uh oh,” he huffs out in a short mini pant, swiping a tongue against his lips before grunting. you were sopping wet, he spanks your ass to quicken your pace and you moaned. “this what you call ridin' someone? thought i taught ya better than that, babe,” and then he sniggers at seeing your face drop once he holds your hips firmly still and in place. “if you can’t do it right, maybe we should just end this thing-”

“n-no, okay okay okay,” you stuttered, so desperate for him to fuck you, but you had to fuck him first. gojo hums to himself, and you start to ride him. a tiny mewl exits past your lips once you move against him before you’re bouncing on his lap. your head’s spinning, mind s racing miles a minute and it’s just euphoric.

gojo’s got such the cockiest grin on his lips as you maneuver yourself against him, chewing on your lip every few seconds to suppress your sweet sounds, he eyes you up and down before his voice gets a bit rapsy, turning you on ultimately.

“speed it up, baby,” he grunts, spanking your ass once more and you whimper from feeling his touch press against your skin. “touch yourself while you ride me. give me a little show. show me what i’ve been missin' since you’ve been away from me for so long.”

“o-okay.” you breathed, bringing a shaky hand towards your body, panting as you rode him. his dick reached deep—damn. his girth, it was just appetizing, you needed gojo satoru carnally, more than anything.

you and him both knew that.

gojo smiles, watching you start to fondle with your perky nipples that visibly poked beneath your tank top, rocking your hips against him back and forth to where a low grunt leaves from his mouth every few seconds.

it was strenuous on how repetitive your movements were against him. who were you kidding though, you missed this. you missed him. perhaps though, in reality you just missed his dick.

yeah…. it was probably that.

“touch yourself as in..play with your pussy, dummy.” he teases, watching you whimper once he spanks you again, you’re feeling yourself become close each time he reaches deeper.

now your mouth starts to become dry, your head’s still spinning and you’re just about at a loss of words.

“…g-gonna cum soon, 'toru,” you alerted him, slithering your fingers down towards your throbbing clit. the stimulation made your eyes nearly close shut as his thick length drags across your cunt so righteously thorough, making sure to not miss a spot to reach you deep where you can feel his pure existence.

“aw,” he hums, gripping your hips to make you bounce harder on him. you whimper from gojo taking such initiative, holding onto him as he’s drilling himself into you basically since your legs were starting to become numb, you could barely ride him but you continued to bounce against him again and again, leaning into his neck to softly nibble and suck against his skin. “mhm. i missed you too.”

you could hear such arrogance drip from his voice, causing you to become more wet for him in the process. again, a perfect word to describe the entire situation would be:

embarrassing.

before long, you came and that was one of the best orgasms you’ve had in a long time. no matter how much you denied it, no one could you please you, fuck you, hell—pleasure you as much and good as gojo did. you throbbed immensely with your legs joining from how it was just shaking and shivering, your body practically going limp.

this brings such a smile to gojo’s face, still shamefully playing with yourself.

a hand dug deep between your pried open legs, your chest heaves as you stare at gojo and he pecks a kiss on your lips, muttering something along the lines of, “my good fuckin’ sloppy girl.”

but once he had you on your back, it was an entirely different story. gojo had completely dominance and control now—vigorous mean smacks and hits against your pussy, making sure to grow quiet purposely to hear how sinful your cunt was to him.

to say the least, he was addicted. your pussy was too good for him to not constantly fuck you.

gojo wasn’t too interested in relationships, but who was he to turn down a good fuck?

exactly.

you had so many orgasms pulled out of you, you practically lost count.

you were currently now just laid flat on your back, just about being folded. your pussy sang constant harmonies by how many times gojo made it squelch and cry out for him, for some reason he always loved putting you in mating press. partially because of the eye contact.

but also, he just loves to gently press against your tummy while staring deep into your eyes, speaking to you in such a phony-mocking tone, asking you if you feel him.

it’s a rhetorical question, you weren’t supposed to answer it because of course you feel gojo. his dick was pummeling in and out of your sweet cunt to where your vision started to turn a bit hazy. this position gave him an excuse to fuck you deeper, striking his hips against you repeatedly with your cute legs just sticking up in the air. perfectly hanging over his shoulders.

“you’re such a slutty girl, babe. always lettin' me break this pussy,” he pants, his voice turns more raspy to match his ruthless thrusts and you whimper, dragging your nails against his thick calves. his balls thwacked and thwacked against you, you felt so warm and you’re just a noisy mess.

you don't even realize you’re drooling while maintaining initiate eye contact with gojo. “..cute,” he raises his brows, bringing a thumb up to your lips to wipe it. “only i can make ya drool for cock, hm?”

you eagerly nodded, tears poking in your eyes. the dried up mascara sticking to your lashes still remained. “y-yes, satoru please. ‘s really good. want more.”

“course ya do,” he cursed, deepening his hits against you and you feel him reach more once he dips and pivots his hips. you moan, your mouth opening—a dramatic gasp type moan leaves your lips and he leans in to kiss you. you’re taken by surprise, but you sink into his warm embrace, running your needy tongue against his while he’s still occupying his cock between your tight stingy walls that was never gonna let him go.

the kiss was one word, sloppy.

partially because of you. you couldn’t think straight while you were getting mercilessly pounded in his bed. gojo tasted sweet, minty and a bit honeyed flavored, his tongue softly clashed against yours and you feel his lips form into a smile once he playfully sucks on your tongue.

his breathing along with yours was warm, it was really intimate, for a second you forgot about your depressing heartbreak—and it was all because of what’s between gojo’s legs, who knew.

butterflies started to form in your stomach, and it made you cringe, you really hoped you weren’t falling for him but he made it so hard. gojo’s been fucking you for hours and hours non-stop, his name approximately lived inside your head rent-free.

it’s all you were ever moaning out anyway, or just blabbering how you were about to cum again and again and again, he’s got you in a chokehold.

“f-fuck,” he groans, feeling himself swell. reaching his very peak. he felt a sensation brew up in his thighs as he continued to drill himself into your tight pussy that kept hugging onto him tightly. he loved how clingy you were. and you couldn’t exactly help it too, it was as if your body had a mind of it’s own. gojo’s strokes were so delicious, your eyes slowly roll back now just like his were, piercing the edges of your nails into his skin as you’re being fucked limp quite again. “gonna make me dump another load, babe. overflow your sloppy heartbroken pussy with s’much of me.”

his voice was a bit shaky now, it was honestly cute. droplets of sweat beads raced down gojo’s forehead as he’s panting, his breathing patterns were staggeringly fast-paced and rapid as he stares at you and—oh shit, he’s feral. you could see from how his pretty cerulean eyes never leave yours. it’s as if his pupils dilate just slightly each moment he gets more close.

he’s hungry, gojo licks his lips at just envisioning himself pumping you fell again, watching his own sticky cum pour out of your hole just to plug it back in again.

“fill me p-please, 'toru.” you begged, and his body weight was crushing you, not literally, but he was pressed against you—you were for sure limp now, your arms were just sprawled against your sides as your head just bounces back against the cushioned mattress within each deep thrust he presents to you. “stuff me full, satoru. breed m-me.”

“would be kinda funny if i made you a mama,” he whispers, his tone was playfully yet sweet, he was purely mocking you though. he’s maintaining deep eye contact as his thrusts transmits you to such a high, you whimper for him to continue because you were coming close too. “make this perfect tummy all swollen and r-round,” he sighs, rotating his hips against you—it was sloppy, an entire mess. some of his cum from him recently spilling into you dripped down your thighs and you moaned from how messy it was. “bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you.”

“m-maybe.” you muttered out, clinging onto his wrist and he chuckles.

“maybe?” he repeats after you, leaning in to kiss the side of your mouth—gojo’s buried entirely balls deep and you’re just panting and panting, both chasing your incoming releases.

you shiver a bit, feeling him rub a hand across your tummy, mimicking his previous action of pressing down on it. “tsk, poor dumb baby. can’t even think straight. bet all you’re thinkin’ about ‘s getting filled, huh?”

you sniffled, throwing your arms around gojo and he chuckles, licking a stripe up your neck only to sink his teeth against your collarbone lightly to hear you moan.

“s’ okay, babe. cum with me,” he says in a hushed tone, his voice was so deep and seductive, just hearing gojo’s voice against your ear was just enough to make you soaked already, as pathetic as it was. “be my messy girl, don’t be shy. love when you slut yourself out for me, it’s cute.”

“s-satoru,” you squeaked, your nails were piercing into his soft skin as your right thigh started to bounce against him as you chased your incoming high. “fuck, ‘s deep, satoru. fill me please.”

gojo kisses the top of your forehead as his hips strike and rummage inside your walls, you clamp down on his so good he grunts, it’s so raspy and pitched it makes you throb. “shit, better not waste it then. come on baby, relax,” and he’s talking you through your orgasm—acknowledging your changing breathing patterns that he knew whenever you were close, he brings a thumb towards your cheek to stroke your chin before smiling. “give it to me.”

you whimpered once another orgasm got stolen from you, you’re just being pounded into the mattress with random blabbering leaving your lips, you’re so dumb, so cockdrunk, again it’s really pathetic.

gojo groans, feeling you tighten against him before it’s his turn. his hips slow but still maneuver and pivot against you, and once he came, it was a thick load, he’s the one about to drool now. he averts his eyes towards your pussy, watching his own cum spill out of you, it’s hypnotizing to him. gojo runs a thumb against your slit and you whimper once he pauses his thrusts but slowly pulls out. a pop sound was created and you whined, wanting him to keep stuffing you full.

you craved it.

gojo leans in, kissing you for a final time and it wasn’t as sloppy like last time—more passionate and sincere, which scared you a little. you hoped you weren’t catching feelings. gojo probably hoped you were though.

“satoru.” you panted, once he pulled away. “i-i think i love you.”

he’s panting and catching his breath as well as you, he sits up with his toned biceps pressed against the sides of you before speaking in a low alluring voice. “babe?”

“babe?”

you blinked twice, and realized you were being shook lightly by the shoulders. the realization hit you like a truck once you realized geto was calling your name—he had a worried, almost pale expression on his face once he sees you come back to reality.

“suguru..?” you mumbled, in the same exact bed and still feeling dizzy from your many orgasms that got pulled from you the entire night.

“did you.. just call me, satoru?”

oh.

maybe you were just fantasizing the entire thing.

#★vegasbaby.#gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #anime smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #cw smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #cw sex mention #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #female reader #smut

7K notes · View notes

peachpitfics · 19 days

Text

Guilty as Sin

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Benedict Bridgerton asks you to accompany him to his private studio, to show you some of the art he's been working on. You find a little more than you were expecting.

Length: 3k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Oral sex (female receiving), Penetrative sex, Unprotected sex.

a/n: find pt 2 here!

Bridgerton master list

"Good evening, y/n," A proud voice echoed behind you, discovering your hiding spot in the darkest corner, admiring Lady Danbury's art to appear busy. You didn't bother to turn and greet him, he always seemed to find you at these social events, even if you weren't outwardly interested in him, he persisted. Benedict Bridgerton slid into the space next to you as if it were designed for him, cheekily scanning you face for a reaction.

You met at Lady Danbury's ball 3 seasons previous. Your brother was holding out hope for a match this season, ignoring your contentedness for your own company. Benedict had never shown any interest in any young lady - he did, however, find amusement in torturing you this way.

"Bridgerton," You barely mumbled a response, hoping he would find another to bother this evening. Yet there he remained, exchanging his attention for the painting you were looking at.

"There are far better paintings in this ballroom" He remarked, a little scoff sounding off.

"Yes, I am sure there are. However, this one is positioned perfectly" Still, you avoided eye contact and angled your body away from him. He was definitely not the same as the other Bridgerton men. Benedict was frivolous and artistic, lost in his own hedonistic world of luxury and pleasure. Perhaps it was jealousy that ruled your opinion of Benedict.

"Ah, yes. I truly have never seen a damp, dark corner without you in it, you know?" He chuckled, "Why do you pretend to be interested in art, when you could be watching whatever is unfolding behind you? I'm sure the numerous scandals and embarrassing events you would witness would be far more interesting" He asked, there was even a hint of genuine curiosity in his words.

You paused for a moment, contemplating even continuing this conversation or leaving to find your brother or mother.

"Actually, I rather enjoy art. I am more interested in sculpture or ceramics, but I will endure whatever I have to to get through this evening and every other evening like it this season" You spilled. Benedict was stunned, his eyebrows raised and his blinks steady in shock.

"I didn't know you had a like for such things" Benedict said serenely.

"Of course not, I am certain you thought my only interests were embroidery or pianoforte, like every other simpering mess in this ballroom" You thought your snarky remark was under your breath, but Benedict did manage to hear. He breathed a heady laugh through his nose and took a sip of his lemonade.

"Would you be interested in viewing some of my works?" Benedict pondered aloud, finally dragging your eyes to meet his. It seemed sincere - which was not something you often saw from him. Whilst he was a shameless flirt, you never indulged him like some of the other young ladies. It was obvious that he viewed you as some sort of challenge, but you would never give in.

"Is that a serious invitation?" You asked, taken aback.

"Yes, absolutely. Art is potentially the only thing I do take seriously. I would love to show you, if you would like to see it" He almost bowed, as if the pursuit of his art was the most noble thing about him. This shift in his personality made him less repulsive, it intrigued you. Turning to face him, for the first time in so many months, throwing off his balance slightly, you held your hand out for him to take.

"You would like to see it now?" His brow furrowed, eyes asking permission to take your hand and lead you out to the carriages.

"Why not? We've been to this ball numerous times before, it will not be getting any more interesting" With the softest of smiles decorating your normally sour face, Benedict took your hand and began walking outside with you, watching nervously as people ignored your presence.

"Will this not be damning to your marriage prospects?" Benedict leaned over to whisper in your ear, an element of concern riding along his words.

You gave him a pitiful smile, "What prospects?". Not a single soul noticed the two of you leaving the ball. Benedict held the carriage door open for you and held your hand as you stepped up into it.

"I've never slipped out of an event quite like that" He remarked, closing the door, sitting opposite you.

"Well, in truth, I thought perhaps someone might have stopped us, just because of you… But, I suppose, my power of invisibility is shared with the person I am escaping with" Your eyebrows flicked up. Benedict could not discern whether you were happy or not to fly out of the view of the ton. While it was a blessing most days, you were afforded your privacy and peace. Perfect silence. There were many other days filled with loneliness, the madness of having to hear your own voice in your head just to fill the quiet.

The carriage ride was slightly uncomfortable, the two of you had never had to be alone like this. You were delivered to Benedict's college where he had been studying art and he led you towards his private studio. Benedict's hand reached out for the door handle, stopping short, and spinning to look at you, back pressed against the door.

"I presume you understand I don't bring people here," He paused, his demeanour was soft and vulnerable, "Be gentle with me". He waited for acknowledgment on what he was saying, and with a nod of promise from you, he opened the door. You both walked inside in sweet silence as you took in the most beautiful sight. The room was littered with parchment, sketches, canvases. Drabs of colour, charcoal and lead lit only by low candlelight as Benedict struck the match. This was the most personal gesture of friendship you had ever experienced, it was like peering through window into Benedict Bridgerton's mind - a place he only has the keys to. Several desks were patterned around the room, a small platform in the centre of the room, drying racks on the far left. You were surprised by this unapologetically intimate space, and even more impressed by the immense talent you were witnessing.

"What are you working on currently?" You did not mean for the excitement of the room to fill you up so keenly. Benedict had such a hard time trying to read your reaction, your manner and tone were thrilling to him.

"Oh, please" He gestured towards a far table, where an easel stood facing the window, "I am learning about portraiture this semester. This is something I am doing for my youngest brother, Gregory, for his birthday" His hand sailed past your lower back, shuffling you both around. A deliciously electric pulse passed over your body, goose bumps erupting in a rolling wave quickly trailing behind.

"Benedict, this is incredible" You gasped, your hands covering your mouth with astonishment.

Oddly, he stepped back from you and placed his hand on his heart.

"What did I say?" You smiled uncomfortably.

His face softened, his eyes fluttering peacefully, "My name. That is the first time, you have ever said my name" A flash of teeth in his grin made your heart jump its next beat. There was a flush of embarrassment in your cheeks, your eyes flicked between Benedict's and the floor.

"I apologise" Admittedly, you had never given him a chance to show how utterly human he was. When he had asked you to come to the studio, you wondered whether the room would be filled to the brim of paintings of naked women. How wrong you were - finding yourself surrounded by paintings and scrawling's of every member of his family. You dug around, flicking through sketchbooks, diaries.

"Have you found a favourite?" He meandered around the room after you, hands tucked behind his back like a gentleman, observing.

"This one, is my favourite" You held up a side profile of Violet Bridgerton, done entirely in variants and shades of their family colours.

"I am yet to show her that one, do you think I should?" He asked, and you sensed he truly valued your opinion here.

"Yes! If I had half your talent, I would have filled my family's home with my work" You chuckled, laying the canvas down on the current desk you were visiting.

You moved around the other side of the room, noticing a section of the room more damp, and darkly lit, compared to the rest of the studio. There stood an easel with a large drape thrown over it, and several canvases stacked betwixt it and the wall. This struck a chord of curiosity in you that could not be contained, you almost dashed forward to pull the drape down.

"No! Wait, not those!" Benedict rasped, darting forward to try and stop you. It was too late, the cream-coloured drape had coiled to the floor and revealed what Benedict did not want you to see.

Brow furrowing, you stood back, taking in what you were seeing for the first time. Here, on the easel, an unfinished portrait, of you.

"That's -- That's private" Benedict cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Is this… me?" You didn't know whether to be flattered, impressed, or worried. Had he done this from memory? That was when it occurred to you to look down. Picking up, and flicking through the canvases, they were all you. There were maybe six or seven of them, all in different poses, of differing angles. Had he taken such notice of you to be able to do this from memory? The detail in your face, your hair and even dresses you had worn in past seasons.

"This is…" You shook your head, placing the canvases back. Benedict stood behind you, leaving a distance so as not to make this more uncomfortable than it already was. His hands were pressed together at his lips as if he were praying, wearily hanging on for your next words.

"No one has ever seen me like this, or rather, at all" You sighed.

"I see you as you are" Benedict replied too quickly.

"And how is that?"

There was a long pause, an internal struggle between what he wanted to say and what he should.

"I see… the raw soulfulness of your gaze. The divine sway in your walk. The sensual ruthlessness of your words. The confidence of your acceptance. I have watched, and waited, and wallowed in avaricious longing" Benedict heaved in a deep breath, "Every line, every curve, every shade I fear is a figment of my imagination until I see you again, just so that I might commit a little more to memory".

Benedict's eye cast low, his discomposure becoming more and more apparent. You were not to know that the one person you had been avoiding for the past several seasons had been perceiving you exactly as you had always dreamed. Perhaps it was not Benedict's personality that made you keep him at arm’s length, but rather your own.

You bound forward, slightly tripping on your gown, throwing yourself in the second Bridgerton brother's arms. In the instant he caught you, you planted the shyest of kisses on his unsuspecting lips. Benedict chuckled sweetly, lifting you to stand on your own two feet again, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into to a longer, more fervent kiss. His lips were much softer than you were anticipating, gentle and cool against your own. Benedict's tongue dipped into yours, his kiss still passionately intoxicating. You parted for a moment, both of you breathing a little heavier now. Benedict took a step back, straightening his dress clothes and composing himself.

"I apologise, miss y/n"

"Why do you apologise? I am the one who owes you" You stammered.

"I am just glad that no one saw us, I will not have you ruined. I will not be the one that ruins you" Benedict stumbled over his words, words filled with such consideration and respect for you and your standing in society.

Panting still, bosom heaving over the corset, you thought about what he was saying. You thought about your "prospects".

Taking one large step forward, pressing your body against his, you leaned up as if to kiss Mr Bridgerton's cheek goodbye.

"Ruin me" You breathed, begged, into his ear, hands wrapping around his neck, your breath hitching in your throat as Benedict swooped you into his arms, carrying you to the nearest desk. He placed your behind on the edge of the desk, moving to sweep every piece of art clattering to the floor before turning his attention back to you. Your legs wrapped around his thighs, his lips crashing into you, his tongue fiercely caressing yours. Much to Benedict's surprise, you slipped your arms out of your dress, pushing the fabric down around your hips.

Stunned and dramatic shock shot across his face as he looked upon your upper body in your corset. Benedict blinked furiously, as if trying to regain control of his sense.

"May I?" He took hold of the fabric around your waist, pulling it out from under you as you lifted yourself slightly, signalling a loud yes. Sitting in your undergarments, Benedict wrapped his arms around your body, expertly fiddling with the laces as you nodded fervently into his delectable kisses. You grinned into his mouth, feeling the corset loosen quickly – he had done this before. Your fingers fumbled along the seam of his pants, unfurling the tucked fabric of his dress shirt, fiddling with the buttons of his overcoat.

Benedict stopped, throwing his coat across the room and removing his dress shirt as frantically as possible. It took only seconds for his eyes to widen at your naked body, sitting on the desk before him.

"Holy God" He exhaled, lunging forward, thrusting his hand into your hair, pulling you into a devilish kiss. His hands curved under your behind, lifting you forward to the very edge of the table before falling to his knees before you as if you were divine, and he, a devout worshipper at the altar. Littering kisses down your inner thigh, his nose nestling into the soft nest of hair at your mound, he breathed heavily, groaning with pleasure. Benedict's tongue slipped between your folds, circling the most sensitive spot on your body, your hands sliding into his hair, pulling gently as his pace quickened and steadied in a repetitive manner. Never had you felt so safe and yet so powerful, holding Benedict's head in place between your thighs. Letting out soft, melodic moans, tangling your fingers amongst his hair, finding your hips having a mind of their own as they ground against him. The sheer coarseness of Benedict's dawning facial hair and the soft, warmth of his darting tongue were plenty enough to push your mind to the edge of the human experience. Your head turned dreamy, light, whilst your body convulsed and squeezed Benedict's head between your thighs.

Panting softly, Benedict remained, placing delicate kisses where his tongue had just performed. As your body relaxed into him again, Benedict appeared from the floor, kissing you again, to lay you backward on the table, your own sweetness on your tongue now. He stood before you, bare torso, undoing his dress pants. Excitement pulsed through you, propping yourself onto your elbows to watch. You had heard other ladies discuss this in the depths of their personal conversations but had never really learned anything from them. It was a topic of great interest.

Freeing himself before you, your enlarging eyes took in his length as he held himself in his hand. "Allow me?" Benedict looked down at you, sordid passion aflame in his eyes. You gave a clear, concise nod. Benedict moved closer between your thighs, adjusting your legs, and placing himself at your entrance. With both hands sprawled over the space between your belly and your hips, Benedict slowly pushed forward, eliciting guttural moans from your lips. But he never looked away from you, he never closed his eyes for more than a half-second. His desire burned out of him, his eyes searing down on you and in helplessness, you exuded wanton need in return.

You wished this act were eternal, completely unending. Every thrust an indiscreet attempt at conveying his affections for you. His hand found its way to caressing your cheek, his teeth nipping at your neck as you moaned his name.

“Benedict” You sighed without inhibition. The sound of your voice sent Benedict into a frenzy, his thrusts harder now and full-fledged. His sinful grunts, echoing across the studio, came to a hot, explicit apex as he buried himself as deeply as possible inside of you.

He looked down at you dreamily, his eyes heavy with pleasure, running his thumb over your bottom lip. Benedict stepped away, reaching for his dress pants, and sitting on to the ground in front of you – you moved to sit next to him, surrounded by the tables previous contents.

“You are wonderful. I could never capture such an essence, in any art form. You are transcendent” Benedict’s words were slow, the ruse of his silly exterior worn away.

“I much prefer this version of you” You gave a smug smile, both of you avoiding eye contact.

“As I do you” He retorted, chortling alongside you. The long, comfortable tired silence between you was broken only when Benedict cleared his throat.

“Y/n,” Benedict spoke up, “I think—No, I am quite certain, I love you” He admitted, holding his hand out, bridging the space between your mostly naked bodies, waiting for you to take it.

“I do believe I too am guilty of loving you” You responded, laying your hand gently in his. Leaning to meet in the middle, sharing a sentimental, sweet kiss and smiling into each other. Benedict jumped up, pants still undone around his waist, he pulled you to your feet.

“Come, I should like to draw you” He posed you naturally on the platform in the centre of the room. You watched him scramble about the room, looking for his implements.

“Like this!?” You gestured to yourself, completely nude on the dais.

“Yes, precisely like this” Benedict growled ardently, putting his pencil to his parchment.

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

If you would like to be tagged in any upcoming Bridgerton fanfictions written by me, please let me know and I will add you to a taglist!

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atyourmerci · 1 month

Text

I don’t care that you’re a stoner

Ceo!abby

Dr. A.A

CW: smut, MDNI, dom!abby, mean!abby, sub!reader, light bondage (belt), tribbing brrr, talks of strap usage, tribbing breeding kink brrr, degradation, fingering, cum play

A/N: this is technically a drabble but I gave it a title bc that’s what Chappell deserves

◊

Why Dr. Anderson decided to come to you, your pathetic excuse of an ‘office’ instead of your usual frequent visits to hers, was beyond you. Following her around like a dog to her every beck and call. Having to call her doctor since she insisted on getting her doctorate in finance…fucking prick.

Even your credentials, your place in the hierarchy of the company didn’t exclude you from being her little bitch. She seldom gave you the decency of just looking at you when you did her dirty work. Filing her papers, calling her clients, getting her coffee, black of course, like she would drink anything with an ounce of happiness.

She never thanked you. She made it clear where you stood to her, below her. A bleeding, breathing, able-minded body. It could be you, or the next, as long as it was done correctly.

So nice of her as she glares at you from the door of your office that was always open. “What are your plans for tonight?” She says driving her veiny wrists into her slack pockets, her normal intimidating eyes driving into your soul.

“I should be done that paperwork by six, is there something else I need to get to you?”

“After that,” she remarks sternly, as if you should’ve know that, as if that was something she’d ever asked before.

“Uhh go home?” You answer dumbly, utterly confused by her insistence on your personal endeavors.

“Come out with us tonight. We go to max’s down the road,” it was a question with no opportunity for refusal. You didn’t say no to Dr.Anderson.

“Oh I don’t-“ you shake your head before she cuts you off.

“I know I can smell you. Seven. Tonight.”

Sprawled out, aggressively stripped of your outing dress, on her luxurious thousand thread cotton sheets. Dr. Anderson’s Louis Vuitton belt tied around your wrist, her attempt to regain dominance.

Even as she’s panting, muffled curses coming out as pleas as she grinds her soaking cunt against your own. Her clit is so swollen now, after completely abusing your hole. Her pent up arousal seeping into the sticky mess she created with her relentless thrusts earlier.

“Couldn’t fucking stop thinking ‘bout this,” she pants out, rutting into you like a dog in heat, her sticky white cum ruining her precious expensive sheets.

You can’t seem to find words to remark her pathetic admission, so completely fucked out from your previous orgasm.

Kneading your breast in her hand she brings her teeth to your neck, biting down on the thin flesh, sure to leave marks for everyone to see. But that wasn’t enough for her.

“Gonna cum in this needy pussy, let everyone know how much of a whore you are.”

A guttural moan leaves your throat, the thought of her marking you, claiming you as hers.

“Hmm the little slut likes that? Getting used as my fucking cumdump?”

The only thing you can seem to mutter out is a sad ‘mhmm’ as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

A ‘fucking slut’ is heard in the background as you feel her reposition herself, turning herself sideways inbetween your legs, throwing your leg over her shoulder. She reconnects your swollen clits, with the addition of sliding two of her thick fingers back into you. Slipping in with ease, coating her fingers with the mix of pearl slick.

“FUCK,” you come back to your senses at the new sensation, needing to hold onto anything but your hands are still bound by her belt.

“Still so fucking tight, need to stretch her out so it’ll only feel good when I do it.” Her pace beginning to quicken, her hips bucking into your thigh. Her teeth biting into the flesh of your thigh, holding back whimpers of your name.

“B-better take all my cum. Every last drop slut,” she begins losing herself, her thrusts only getting sloppier. Gripping into the flesh of your thighs to stabilize herself, trying to get you off again before herself.

“I-I promise doctor.”

Was what set her off, dropping her head back as her mouth gapes. “fuckfuckholyfuck,” her legs begin to shake, hot white cream dripping out of her pulsing hole, dripping down your clit and finding its home in your own twitching abandoned hole.

Huffing out as she regains her stability, realizing she’s losing time, her cum dripping down to her sheets and spreading. Not where she needed it.

She takes her fingers back to your cunt, scooping up what’s left, pushing it deep inside of you and keeping them as far as she can get.

“This is what you wanted huh? Nasty fucking mess stuffed with my cum,” she says with a grin of the devil herself. So pleased seeing you so dumb for her, another level of submission she could coax you into.

You give a pathetic nod, feeling her cum painting your walls as she’s deep in your cervix. She begins giving tantalizing licks to your clit as she watches your chest rise and fall.

“Abby please-“

Before you could finish you feel a rough grab on your belt adorned wrists, pulling you up to face her.

“Get the rest you missed.” She says pulling you down into the sheets, your mouth opening instinctively. Licking the cum soaked cotton sheets as she watches you from below her.

Once she’s satisfied she grips your jaw in her hand, guiding your gaze to her soaking cunt, still dripping with the mix of both of your orgasms-

“Every. Last. Drop.”

#abby anderson #the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #abby angst #abby the last of us #abby x fem!reader #dom abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou x reader #abby x you #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fanfiction #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson x f!reader

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archonsabyss · 3 months

Text

╰─..✶. [ Love Consumed ]

❒ Featuring: Zayne; Sephiroth; Madara Uchiha x Fem!Reader [individually]

❒ Genre: smut [nsfw 18+]

❒ Warnings: choking in zayne's! penetrative sex! unprotected sex! nudity! fingering! mention of blood! boob sucking! spit/saliva! oral (f)

❒ WC: zayne 1.3k | sephiroth 1k | madara 788

─❒ Authors Note: i was thinking so hard about their back muscles, biceps, and shoulders that I decided to put these three into the same post?? like the brain rot is real, so real!! And no it's not favouritsm with the word counts, they ended perfectly just where it was meant to 🤍

# 𝖹𝖠𝖸𝖭𝖤

The silence that dwindles within the apartment is oddly comforting, enough to have the tension leave your shoulders as you stare through the windows watching the flickering lights and the ongoing traffic. While you immerse yourself in the tranquillity, a subtle presence embraces you from behind. Zayne's quiet steps draw near and then he envelops you in a back hug, his bare chest meeting your exposed back.

"Does my bed not meet your comfort standards?" He inquires, the playful tone barely evident in his voice. You promptly shake your head dismissing the notion.

"It's alright"

"Alright?" He chuckles, the sound resonating like a warm melody. Zayne's arms tighten around your waist, "I see you're a tough critic when it comes to beds,"

You playfully nudge him with your elbow, "It's not about the bed, it's about the company"

His grasp subtly tightens, and he lowers his chin onto your shoulder. His hands gradually wander lower, leaving you breathless. "Well then, I'm glad I have your approval as company," He murmurs, the heat of his breath gently caressing your ear and you incline your head to grant him further access. The closeness between you elicits pleasant shivers down your spine, a sensation both comforting and exhilarating in its intensity. A gentle breeze stirs through the open window, bringing the fragrance of his cologne to envelop your senses. The air crackles with tension, each moment escalating. His warm mouth plants wet kisses on your shoulders and his fingers playfully tease your sensitive entrance before a single digit slips into your drenched core, causing your knees to instantly weaken, already fatigued from the many previous rounds. His strong arms serve as the only support, moulding your body against his, turning you into pliant putty in his grasp.

The whimpers that escape your lips are like the melodic notes produced by strumming a guitar and the hands that orchestrate you are as adept and efficient as the music they craft.

"Not enough yet?" Zayne remarks with a rather smug tone as his hand smoothly wraps around your waist and guides them to press against his growing erection while his fingers plunge deep inside you. You find yourself unable to respond; the sensation is euphoric but overwhelming and there's a fear you won't be able to keep up. Your head spins as his unrelenting pace continues to escalate.

"You ought to be resting; there are only four hours of night left," He says as if he's not the one who instigated this, as though he's not the one who has kept you awake the entire time. A choked noise slips from you as his free hand gradually glides up your stomach to encircle your neck, his fingers flexing, and veins delineating a course from his hands to his forearms. He starts with a tender squeeze causing your eyes to roll back. This time, your knees weaken completely, leading you to stumble forward but he swiftly withdraws both hands from your neck and core to catch you. Zayne lifts you into his arms and carries you to his bed a mere five feet away. As he places you on the bed, a subtle, almost elusive smile appears on his lips, and without uttering a word, he hovers above you and reconnects his mouth with yours. The kiss intensifies instantly, deepening as he moves his body against yours. The rhythmic motion of his hips creates friction, stirring desire, and causing his arousal to heighten even more.

Your hands wander across the expanse of Zayne's chest, his lips parting, and breath mingling with yours. Amidst the pleasure, you can't help but be captivated by the sight of his flexing muscles, tousled hair, and a delicate sheen of sweat, casting a radiant glow upon his skin. As you withdraw gasping for air, you meet his gaze and notice the furrowing of his brows, a clear manifestation of his lust. The intensity in his eyes could be daunting for someone unfamiliar, yet your trust in him allows you to perceive the struggle. His expression reveals a man torn between restraint and a desperate desire to succumb to his yearnings.

"Perhaps taking a rest would be wise," he suggests, though in reality, it's merely a courtesy, as the choice isn't truly yours tonight. Not when you've stirred him to the point of endless arousal, plunging him into a state of complete obsession and addiction.

Smiling at him with a vacant gaze, you extend your hand between you, caressing his swollen cock, causing him to flinch and emit a hiss.

"Perhaps satisfying me would be wiser"

Zayne chuckles, shaking his head, as he reaches down to intercept your hand still in motion, compelling it to release its grip before pinning it above your head.

"I suppose you're right"

"I'm always right"

"That you are, my love" He never refuses and never denies, in his eyes you are right and you are wrong, everything good and everything sinful. His senses get lost, and his rationality and sensibility grow legs and walk out the door. When he's with you, he only sees you. Taking a slow steady breath, he aligns his cock at your soaked entrance and without warning thrusts into you, stuffing you to your breaking point. You squirm within his grasp, your voice resonating like a collapsing skyscraper as you gasp and moan his name.

"Shhh, deep breathes" Zayne's features align in a determined gaze with furrowed brows and a fixed, intent expression, embodying a clear sense of focus as he watched the way he penetrated you, your slick seeping and coating his cock. The scene is mesmerizing, pushing him closer to the edge of release. He lifts his hand and slides his thumb between your parted lips, pressing against your tongue, causing your eyes to nearly roll back in pleasure. Your body moves in rhythm with his, the bed shifting beneath you as drool escapes from your mouth. You're thoroughly fucked and it hasn't even been that long.

You murmured his name in a hushed chant as his thumb tantalizingly danced over your tongue. Zayne adjusts his hips, and his cock finds its mark, causing you to erupt in a series of gasps and chokes.

"There?" He asks, but you're holding back tears. He chuckles, saying, "Perhaps a little higher then?"

His hands grasp your hips firmly, leaving the promise of lingering marks. Pulling you back with each commanding snap of his hips, he relentlessly pounds into you, affirming his enjoyment in tandem with yours. A forceful movement sends his cock even deeper, targeting that sensitive spot within which forces your back to arch and your core to tighten around him. With a high-pitched whine, you're hurtled into an intense orgasm. Zayne isn't far from climaxing, his hips moving erratically as he pursues his release. With a few more thrusts, his movements become unsteady and he buries his cum deep inside you, filling your core with his warm essence.

He stays in place as your cum mixes and your breaths regulate, his member gradually softening as he awkwardly withdraws from you. You instinctively tighten, attempting to prolong the connection for as long as you can physically manage and he finds amusement in your actions but doesn't resist. Instead, he scoops you up into his embrace and holds you close for a fleeting, perfect moment, fulfilling every desire you've ever harboured. You think this is how the night─ morning concludes but suddenly you find yourself lying on your stomach with his chest pressed against your back and his nipples teasingly grazing your skin.

His lips linger by your ears, "Rub yourself against me"

You turn your head to look back at him, although it's hard you're able to catch his gaze, marvelling at his endurance. With genuine curiosity, a sudden realization dawning on how you've ever managed to walk after such an extended and vigorous encounter, you ask, "Do you ever get tired?"

His fingertips glide across your shoulder blades as he plants a kiss on your shoulder, his erection growing harder as it presses against your ass.

"You have a way of making it all worth it. Tired? Perhaps a little. Regretful? Never."

# 𝖲𝖤𝖯𝖧𝖨𝖱𝖮𝖳𝖧

Rarely, if ever, did Sephiroth flinch when a blade breached his skin, nor did he flinch when a dagger meticulously etched countless cuts across his body. With blood trickling from the wound, a slight tilt of his head and a small smirk were all he offered in acknowledgment of the attack, but when it boiled down to revealing such intense and immersive emotions there was no one else but you who could draw them out of him.

A haze of lust and desire looms over you, the room growing warmer with each movement. Sweat accumulates and all rational thoughts elude you, your mind blanking when his hips adjust and he thrusts into you with relentless intensity. Your nails dig into his shoulder as your back lifts off the bed in response. He seems no more tired than he was when he came home and took you to bed; his strength and stamina show no sign of waning, evident in the powerful thrusts he delivers repeatedly. Your moans ascend from the depths of your throat and reverberate off the walls of the room as Sephiroth lifts one of your thighs over his shoulder, driving his cock deeper. No barriers are remaining between you; clothes lie scattered across the floor and the sheets are in disarray, half off the bed.

Sephiroth's hair cascades down in silver strands, sleek and flowing like a cascade of liquid moonlight. His eyes gleam with the untamed animalistic instinct, driven to madness by pleasure.

"Sephiroth," You gasp, pulling on his hair and he responds with a passionate and demanding kiss, his warm lips pressing fervently against yours. His cock twitches and his rhythm falters upon hearing his name escape your lips. The sight of tears streaming from your eyes etched itself into his memory and pushed him closer to the edge. And when your pussy tightens around him he yields, fully immersing himself.

Your arms encircle his neck as you throw your head back onto the pillow heaving for air because damn, he was so ravenous that his hunger permeated the intensity of his movements. Your willpower is reduced to nothing, overridden by the pleasure coursing through your body, igniting an intense passion that erases any hint of the dignity you present to the outside world. Your lips seek his and he chuckles at your neediness, sliding his hand beneath your back to lift your body from the bed and press against him. Sephiroth adjusts your position, ensuring your head falls back onto the pillow more comfortably. His hand then trails down to where your bodies are entwined and his fingers tease your clit, causing you to clench the sheets, but when you can't grasp them your nails dig into your palm.

Sephiroth locks eyes with you as he brings his fingers to his lips and licks them clean, "You taste like the sweetest sin," He murmurs, his voice a low seductive timbre.

"Well, aren't you the poetic one in the throes of passion?"

"Only for you." He smirks, his lips tracing a path down your neck until he reaches your nipple. He licks all around the nub before taking it into his mouth, sucking gently and eliciting a high-pitched whine from you. Upon withdrawing, a string of saliva links his mouth to your nipple, and he gives it one more gentle peck. Desperate for more, with tension coiling in the depths of your stomach and sensing Sephiroth's unwillingness to move, relishing in watching you squirm for release, you take matters into your own hands. With all your strength, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him down, his cock burying a little deeper. Despite your strength typically being unable to keep up with his, Sephiroth had foreseen the move and felt obliged to allow it. A light chuckle escapes him as he supports his weight with one forearm resting on the bed beside your head, while his other hand grips your waist, his hair draping to the side.

"Let me take control."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because, my love," He whispers against your lips. "I want to watch you unravel beneath me"

You can't help but smile at his response, the intensity of his gaze stirring a delightful anticipation. "Fair enough," You concede, surrendering to the allure of the moment but just when he least expects it, you deftly shift positions, pushing him onto his back as you hover above him, and the training you've undergone finally proves its worth in this unexpected moment of vulnerability. Your hands find purchase on his shoulders, your gaze admiring the sight of his sculpted body; broad shoulders lead to well-defined arms, each muscle carved with precision; collarbones, subtly tracing delicate lines that add an elegant touch to the powerful physique, imparting a visual symphony of strength and grace. Without warning, you roll your hips against him. Sephiroth's eyes widen ever so slightly as your mouth descends upon his in a swift, blurry motion. He reacts on instinct. Your lips smack, saliva exchanging and you rub yourself against him.

The feeling of your body above him and your focused expression with furrowed brows and pursed lips distracts him to the point that he doesn't notice how his groans gradually shift into moans. His grip on your hip tightens and with his permission, you've assumed control, and your relentless consistency is anything but gentle. The way you continuously bounce on him in search of release, yet denying both of you the satisfaction, drives him to insanity.

As you feel his cock reach its deepest point within you, it's not you who moans and flinches, but Sephiroth. The frown of his brows and the tight closure of his eyes catch you off guard. The temptation to tease him lingers, but the moment evades you as he seizes you and forcefully returns you to the position he adores the most – on your back beneath him. Grasping your wrists with one hand, he pins them above your head and you witness the breathless state you've induced in him and you're thrilled, raising your head to plant an innocent kiss on his neck.

"You've had your fun," He says unamused.

"Not nearly enough, but yes"

"You'll have to wait your turn, little one"

You gently tuck strands of his hair behind his ear. "I'm not known for my patience, Sephiroth."

"Well, consider it a test of your endurance."

# 𝖬𝖠𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖠 𝖴𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖧𝖠

Your hands frantically seek something to grasp onto amidst the overwhelming surge of emotions that race up your spine and cloud your thoughts. Every fibre of your being ignites with heat as his skilled fingers withdraw and playfully trace over your pussy, gathering your cum on his fingertips and tracing it sensually across your folds, crafting an intimate tableau of his desire. The gleam in his eyes becomes more pronounced as he witnesses your reaction, fueling a desire within him to elicit more of such responses from you.

"Please, I can't" You moan, your body pleading for a moment of respite, silently urging him to ease the pace but Madara remains merciless and unyielding as his finger traces circles around your entrance before plunging back in, knuckle-deep with unwavering determination. The explicit wet squelching noises intensify as his fingers penetrate and withdraw, incessantly pushing you to the brink. Your quivering lip finds solace against his shoulder, your palms pressing against the expanse of his back muscles as your toes curl in search of an anchor amidst the overwhelming sensations. Madara deeply absorbs the vision of your blissful countenance – your perfect lips parting for him, echoing his name, accompanied by gentle pants and erratic heartbeats. Your back arches into his touch, further fueling the intensity of the moment. As your clit is captured between his thumb and index finger, the applied pressure intensifies and you reach your climax. Your voice ascends to new heights, echoing his name as you reach the peak of pleasure for the third time.

Madara withdraws his fingers as your cum releases. He gazes in amazement, wordlessly guiding his fingers to your lips and gently yet assertively urging them inside. His thumb presses against your tongue and he buries his head into your chest, his mouth attaching to your breasts. His heated tongue teases your erect nipple, playfully flicking against it. Your fingers weave into his dishevelled black locks, gripping his skull firmly as your head tilts back against the solid ground. He then withdraws his fingers from your mouth and showers the nipple untouched by his mouth in attention. The pleasure sails through your veins like a speed boat across an ocean, leaving you unable to articulate the sensations he evokes.

With a soft 'pop', his mouth disengages, signalling a pause, yet it's far from the conclusion as you catch sight of his head descending to where a new ache has emerged through blurry eyes. His tongue plunges deeply into your core, and you gasp, struggling for breath as his hand secures your waist, anchoring you in place. The knot of your impending orgasm tightens in anticipation.

"Madara" You implore, needing him to pause, to grant you a moment to catch your breath. But the intensity of his desire knows no bounds, and he continues his sensual exploration, driven by a hunger that matches his unrivalled pride as an Uchiha.

"Please, just a moment"

"You ask too much of me, my dear" He groans, pulling back just enough to utter the words, completely intoxicated by the flavour of you. He lifts your leg over his shoulder and feels as it shakes when his mouth moulds around your clit and he sucks hard.

That alone is enough to make your orgasm reach its peak. And you cum, faster than you've ever done before.

Madara's head emerges from between your legs, his mouth coated in your release. His lids briefly shut, as if collecting himself. Despite the proximity where no air manages to breathe its way between your chests, you cradle Madara's face, drawing him up to meet your lips. You savour the taste of yourself on him but focus more on the love you long to exchange with him.

Lying beneath the night sky embraced by a celestial canopy of stars, You fixate your gaze solely on him, captivated by the affection in his eyes as he gazes down at you. The back of his hand gently brushes against your flushed cheeks, evoking a sense of warmth as you strive to steady your breath.

"You have the most captivating eyes,"

"Thank you," You reply but your voice is barely audible and soon the resonance of his hearty chuckle fills your ears, reverberating as his chest rises and falls, and his eyes crinkle with amusement. In one seamless motion, he effortlessly lifts you into his arms and swaps positions, settling on his back with you nestled against his chest. His warmth replaces the firmness of the ground beneath you and he reaches out for his discarded kimono to drape over your naked body.

"Rest, my dear. The night stretches on, and we will continue once you've caught your breath,"

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katszumi · 2 months

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“you know, your eyes kinda resemble a ruby.” you slurred your words. your chin rested in the palm of your hand, elbow digging in the table below you.

bakugou snorted, his eyes never wavering from yours. “what made you think of that shit?”

you lifted your shoulders, quickly dropping them.

“do i need a reason?”

“to be thinking about nonsense? yes.” he answered his own question. his response caused an eye-roll out of you.

you grabbed the small glass in front of you, finishing the shot you set down earlier to save for later.

“that’s your fifth shot of the night.” bakugou intercepted the silence. he sat upright in his chair, his arms folded across his chest.

you gulped the remains of the liquor, swiping your tongue across the bottom of your lip.

“and you’re on your what? like second?” you remarked.

bakugou wasn’t a drinker. everyone knew that. he preferred to be sober, always offering to be the designated driver whenever the group wanted to have a night of fun.

but tonight was his pro-hero debut party. all of his friends and old schoolmates were there, so he figured if he were to drink, tonight was the perfect time.

also, who was he to decline having a drink with a pretty girl?

his eyes glanced at your now wet lips which unfortunately didn’t go unnoticed from you. “two is plenty.”

you leaned forward, reaching your hand towards bakugou’s shirt. your fingers grazed the top button of his shirt. slowly, you unfastened it. “there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun, katsuki.”

due to the sudden proximity, he could smell the alcohol coming from your breath, but he couldn’t bring himself to resist your actions.

you continued to the second button. “take this time to relax.” you raised your hands once more, your fingers now grazing his neck to uncuff the collar of his shirt.

now, you leaned away from him, returning to your previous position. “now you look like a man that’s ready for the night.”

bakugou dropped his shoulders and leaned back in his chair, turning his head sideways. he couldn’t refuse the blush that was coming onto his face nor could he hide it. he knew you were staring right into his soul. he was also aware that you loved to tease him like that.

“unhinged. i swear you are.” was the only thing bakugou could muster.

ever since he’s known you from u.a, you were always that daring girl who was so unpredictable. there was never a dull moment with you.

but that was also what made you so dangerous for him.

a laugh parted your lips. “been called worse.”

“bullshit.” he called it, looking into your eye once again. “like what?”

“irresponsible,” you started count on your fingers.

“i can see it.” bakugou shared his input.

“arrogant,”

he rolled his eyes, “heard my fair share of that one too.”

“impulsive,”

“accurate.”

“provocative.”

bakugou moved his head in a notion like he was deciding between two things. “nah.”

you furrowed your brow, squinting your eyes in confusion. “what is that supposed to mean?”

“provocative sounds like a slutty word.” he simply responded. “i think you know you’re attractive, and you know how to use it to your advantage. not a bad thing at all.”

you paused for a moment, your lips parting from shock. a small grin began to form on your face. “did bakugou katsuki just call me attractive?”

the male scoffed, “don’t act like this is news to you. ‘m sure you heard it plenty times before.” he brushed it off.

“just didn’t think you of all people would willingly say that.”

bakugou chuckled to himself. he raised his finger in the air, indicating for the server assigned to your table to bring him another drink.

“unlike you, not everyone needs five shots of liquor in their system to confess something.” undoubtedly, it was shot taken at her, one that you couldn’t refuse the growing smile on your face.

“oh? since when did you decide to get so bold?”

“someone’s actions tend to rub off on me.”

“they must be foolish.”

once again, bakugou’s ruby eyes lowered to your lips. undeniable. how could his heart ever stand a chance when you treat him this way? did you not understand he loved a challenge?

“yeah, an irresistible fool.”

“please, i’m anything but a fool.”

“don’t flatter yourself; who said i was talking about you?” he opted to lie.

you leaned forward slightly, “with the amount of times you keep staring at my lips, it’s not hard to notice it’s taking everything in you to resist me.” your voice lowered in volume, for his ears to catch only. “therefore, irresistible.”

bakugou took his time to respond, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk. “this must be that arrogant side of yours coming out.”

“one, not necessarily arrogance if it’s true. two, i’m attractive and i know how to use it to my advantage.” you recited his own words.

“this something you do with all your flings?”

you gave him a playful confused look. “do what?” intentionally, your voice had an innocent tone to it.

“drink with them. tease ‘em. nearly undress them. flirt with them in front of an audience?” bakugou could feel his patience slipping. like a sand hourglass, only a few grains left at the top waiting to fall to the bottom.

it had to have been from the shots that made him so precariously bold. but he couldn’t walk away. not when he has you in the palm of his hands— maybe even the other way around.

you propped your elbow on the table once more, cupping your own cheek. you gazed at bakugou through your lashes.

“if i had other flings, you think i’d be here with you all night?”

“don’t know. good question actually.” purposely, he played stupid.

you paused. “there are no others,” you knew that was the answer he was searching for. luckily for him, you didn’t mind giving it to him. “just you.”

bakugou nodded slowly, basking in the information. he could feel his heart flutter from the confession, a huge wave of relief washing over him.

“good. was startin’ to think you were actually considering the guy over at the bar.” of course, bakugou plays it off as a joke. even with the small liquor in his system, it was still difficult for him to admit his true feelings.

but you were fine with it. because even with the guard he pretends to have up, you can feel even with the slightest touch how much he cares for you. bakugou may be loud, cheeky, maybe a bit conceited, but he wasn’t a good liar. you always saw through his facade no matter what lies he decided to spew.

you scoff. “oh, shut up.” you fight a smile. “the guy at the bar doesn’t have the ruby eyes i like so much.”

“here you go with this stupid shit.”

i ’d do anything to flirt with katsuki late at night, both of us tipsy. god please im beggin

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intoanotherworld23 · 1 month

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Peaches And Cream

Summary: Joel loves the taste of you, and you love being his favorite dessert

Warnings: explicit sexual content, mature themes, overstimulation, fingering, oral sex, slightly dom Joel, submissive reader, implied sex, praise kink, dirty talk

A/N: if anyone wishes to be added to my Pedro/or Joel tag list please let me know and I’ll be happy to add you. Heart, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and supportive. Thanks! XOXO

Tag list for Pedro Pascal: @pedrohoe04 @k-k0129 @livingdeadmaria @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @milly-louise @kittenlittle24 @trisaratops-mcgee @subconsciouscollapse @hooked-on-penapascal27 @red-red-rogue @fellinfromthetop @drewharrisonwriter @vickie5446

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

Hall Of Hunks

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

Feeling absolutely reduced to a hot and sweaty mess as you laid underneath Joel. Who was staring at your disheveled face. A look of pride written across his face as your body trembled around him.

“I’ve never seen you cum so much sweetheart.” Praising you as a hand covers your eyes in embarrassment. “You did so good for me baby.”

That powerful and mind blowing release had you almost in tears. Trying with all your might not to just cry in front of him. Feeling like that might weird him out a little bit. Since he could take tears as being in pain or discomfort, and then he would stop, and you didn’t want him to stop. Your body was feeling overwhelmed as it continued to shake underneath his fingertips.

“Let me see those pretty eyes.” His deep voice persuades you as your hands slowly moved away from your face to look up at his smirking one.

“Joel.” Whining his name as he snickers keeping his cock still absolutely still inside of you.

“Whadda you need pretty girl?” He teases feeling your cunt clenching around you making him groan.

Joel knew exactly what you wanted, but was still too shy to say anything to him. He always helped you ease your way into expressing what you wanted with him. Giving you a little bit without asking him, and then getting you to finally speak up. Carefully pulling out from your raw cunt your body jolting at the sensitivity from the sudden loss of him. Feeling his cum ooze out of your body his hand massaging your inner thigh soothingly.

“Fuck me baby girl look at you.” Watching as his liquid spilled out of you and trailed down between your cheeks. He was licking his lips wanting nothing more than to lick it all up, and taste how delicious you both were mixed. That’s exactly what he did too.

His hot mouth attaching to your puffy and still wet cunt. Hands reaching out to grip onto his hair as his tongue flicked back and forth on your clit. Back arching off the bed as he slurped away, hands gripping your inner knees as he kept them pushed apart so he had full and complete access to you. Body feeling like it was on fire as he thrusted his thick tongue inside of you. Rotating your hips around to feel more as his nose brushed against your clit.

“Oh god.” Crying out as your orgasm was already swiftly approaching still extremely sensitive from your previous release. Joel looking up at your remarkable expression unable to look anywhere else. Loving that he was the one in control feeling like he held all the power in your pleasure, and it made him feel like a god.

Reaching a hand over to your pelvis as his thumb started to rub circles on your nub. Your senses heightened and overwhelmed not knowing how much longer you were gonna be able to last. Joel could tell that you were fighting to keep going, and he knew what would help you reach the finish line.

“Tastes like peaches baby girl.” His low voice sends you over the edge as your body starts to crumble. Your ribcage rising and falling with each quick breath. Hands falling down to your side feeling loose and numb. Stomach trembling from the resounding orgasm you just experienced. Your battered cunt was so sore from being stretched and abused over and over again.

Feeling a pair of soft lips gently caressing your thighs and inner knees a trail of saliva being left behind. Sex was always amazing with Joel, but the one thing you loved just as much was the aftercare. His touch was always so gentle and comforting as he would help ease you through each orgasm.

“Fucked that pretty cunt so good, didn’t I?” His crude language had your thighs twitch, and you loved it all the same. Joel already knew the answer to the question, but he loved the reactions you would give him just for saying certain words.

“So proud of you my sweet peach.” His nickname had you smiling as Joel pulled you into his arms and laid you on top of his warm body. Listening to the sound of his heart beating, and the rise and fall of his chest was easing you into a slumber like state. “I’m not done with you yet though baby girl.”

#Pedro pascal #Joel miller #Pedro pascal x reader #Joel miller x reader #Pedro pascal smut #Joel miller smut #pedro pascal fanfic #Joel miller fanfic #Pedro pascal blurb #Joel miller blurb #Pedro pascal fic #Joel miller fic

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ferrstappen · 3 months

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SLUT! l MV1 imagine

a/n: hey! I’m alive, I hope some of you are alive as well and willing to read something 💘 this is short and just a random idea I had before diving into writing some longer pieces with more plot, but I really hope you like it and as you know, feedback is very very welcome!!! Also I’m sorry if it’s weird or any mistakes bc I wrote this on my phone 💘

Summary: this isn’t your first time being a WAG, but people don’t seem to like the idea of you ending your relationship with Joe Burrow and falling in love with Max.

Looking around, you could tell that this wasn't an ordinary place. The sound of engines revving, the vivid colors of various vehicles, and the hustle and bustle of multiple teams, engineers, sponsors, drivers, and fans walking around the paddock all added to the excitement. It was a truly remarkable sight to behold. The energy was palpable, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe taking it all in.

In your previous relationship, your boyfriend would make grand entrances at the stadium, sporting his fancy Cartier sunglasses and jamming to his favorite tunes. He wouldn't pay much attention to the photographers snapping away as he strolled past them, and you'd catch a glimpse of him from afar in a lavish suite. That was quite a contrast to your current situation, which you're still adjusting to.

You were greeted by a well-dressed individual who was sporting the logos of Red Bull, Oracle, and Honda all over their outfit. They handed you a VIP all-access paddock pass which had your name and headshot printed on it, along with details of whose guest you were. To top it off, they also put a Red Bull credential on your wrist. The assistant then guided you towards the power station, where you were hopping to finally catch Max after weeks of not seeing each other.

You never meant to be in this position. You were in a happy, stable, loving relationship, truly. But last year one night in Las Vegas, your boyfriend, Joe, was invited to the Las Vegas Grand Prix, and of course, you both attended, curious and excited about the event. Neither of you knew it would be the beginning of the end.

Your first meeting with Max was captured on camera.

Max and Joe, the reigning Formula 1 champion and the Cincinnati Bengals quarterback together was gold content for the Red Bull socials, and there you were in the back, knowing your place smiling at the interaction, but when you were least expecting it, the champion stretched his hand and introduced himself, catching you and your boyfriend off guard.

As soon as he spoke, I noticed his friendly yet polite tone. "Hi, I'm Max," he introduced himself with a warm smile. His simple gesture of introducing himself made him instantly likable and set him apart from the others in the crowd.

“Hi Max, I’m (y/n). Thanks for the invitation,” you shook the hand that wasn’t holding a can of Red Bull.

“Right. Max, this is my girlfriend. She’s the happiest here because she’s a Red Bull addict,” Joe added, earning a soft laugh from you and a smile from Max.

“Then you came to the right place, (y/n). The mini fridges are all yours, and I’m pretty sure the ones on the second floor have limited editions,”

You thought that was all you were going to see of him, barely catching him after his win to congratulate him, but oh were you wrong, seeing him with a warm gray pull-up hoodie and styled blond hair, sipping gin and tonic and waving his hand as people chanted his name to the tune of a song.

Tu Tu Du Du, Max Verstappen

Or something along those lines.

The moment he recognized you, a sudden rush of excitement and anticipation sent a buzz through your stomach that was impossible to ignore. You felt a mixture of nervousness and elation as he leaned in for a short cheek kiss, the scent of gin lingering on your nose as you briefly noticed the small mole on his upper lip. Despite the presence of your boyfriend standing behind you, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of emotions inside.

“I heard you ransacked the energy station,” A drunk Max Verstappen told you.

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and at the same time you felt Joe’s arms tight around your waist.

“There weren't any Red Bulls left on the building after you left, maybe I'll have to send a PR package your way,” Max slurred, taking a new sip from his gin and tonic glass.

You couldn’t answer because Joe was faster: “we’ll sure enjoy that, thank you. Wanna go mingle, babe?”

That was almost five months ago as you made your way in sunny Melbourne, doing your best to avoid prying eyes who were aware of the events that took place last November and how you left Joe Burrow the quarterback for Max Verstappen the racing driver.

But it’s not like you wanted to.

After the first box full of sugar free Red Bull arrived with a note, you left a message on his Instagram before posting a story, tagging him and the team.

The he started sending silly memes, followed by the description of the Red Bull ingredients written in Arabic while on Abu Dhabi.

In February, things had reached a point where it was impossible to ignore any longer. You knew it was time to end things with Joe, and when you did, it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Suddenly, you were free to do as you pleased, to go where you wanted to go. And so, when Max invited you to go to Bahrain for testing, you jumped at the opportunity.

It was on this trip that you experienced your first date with Max. You both had such a great time together, laughing until your stomachs hurt. You tried your best to hold back your wandering eyes, but you couldn't help noticing the adorable mole on his lip. And then, when the night sky had blanketed the Middle East, he leaned in and kissed you, sending shivers down your spine. It was a magical moment that you would never forget.

But the next day, your first day on the track, a random person recognized you and rumors went crazy, name-calling, attacks, fans carrying signs “What happened with #9”, grown men calling you a bitch, a whore, a gold digger, jumping from one dick to another. It was so much that Max decided to send you to his home in Monaco, not even caring if you were there for the first Grand Prix of the season, he just needed you to be okay.

As you walked towards the energy station, the ground beneath your feet felt firm, yet your steps were hesitant and shy. You were not alone, though, as someone from the team was following your every move, as per Max's orders. The team wanted to ensure that you were safe and secure as you made your way towards the Red Bull hospitality. Once you arrived, a collective sigh of relief was released, and you waited patiently for Max to arrive. The anticipation in the air was palpable as everyone eagerly awaited his arrival.

You vividly remember that moment when he finally arrived at the paddock, dressed in his Red Bull shirt, shorts, and cap, looking so handsome and sporty. You couldn't help but rush towards him, feeling a surge of excitement and joy. As you hugged him tightly, he smiled and hummed softly, clearly enjoying your touch and warmth. You noticed that he was trying to register your scent, perhaps to make the moment even more intimate and memorable.

You knew he was about to lean in for a cheek kiss, but something inside you urged you to do something bolder and more passionate. So, without hesitating, you turned around, making sure his larger frame was facing the outside, away from prying eyes. Then, you carefully grabbed his face with both hands, feeling his strong jawline and stubble under your fingers. You looked deeply into his eyes, savoring the moment, before leaning in and kissing his full lips.

The kiss was electrifying and unexpected, taking him by surprise, but he quickly responded with equal passion and tenderness. You felt his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, as you lost yourself in the blissful moment. It was a moment of pure connection and love, one that you would always treasure in your heart.

Despite being called all sorts of names by people, you refused to let it get to you. You were determined to continue showing your deep admiration and affection for Max, no matter what others thought or said. You believed that your feelings were genuine and authentic, and you were not going to let anyone else's opinion sway you. Despite the challenges and obstacles you faced, your love for Max remained unwavering and waiting to grow bigger.

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen fic #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x you #max verstappen au #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fics #f1 fluff #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow x you

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welcometomyoasis · 3 months

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Seventeen's reaction to their s/o appearing on going seventeen

Synopsis: how the seventeen members would react to you, their s/o, making a sudden guest appearance on going seventeen. Svt x gn! reader | idol au, est. relationship, fluff | 1.25k words | warnings: minor injury | requested by anon A/n: for the sake of this headcanon, their relationship would have already been made public

ଓ༉ He’s suspicious, and immediately asks if this is some sort of weird punishment

Jeonghan, Joshua, Wonwoo, Woozi, Minghao, Vernon

➺ As you approach him, he smiles and welcomes you with open arms though his guard is definitely up. Not that he’s not extremely happy that you made a sudden appearance but why are you here? He wonders what you are up to and why do you look so smiley? You have a dangerous glint in your eye that even he is cautious of.

➺ He wonders what game the gose staff are going to make them play. Are you his opponent? Or a potential collaborator. What’s the catch with this game? The stakes have to be high if you’re here. His mind is running a million miles per minute, going through every single moment of all the previous gose episodes to see what stupid remark they made could have possibly led to this moment right now. And mind you, there were a lot of stupid remarks.

➺ He knows he won’t get any information out of you. So he turns to eye all the staff members suspiciously, watching carefully for any and all behavioural changes, like a lion watching its prey. None of the staff members can meet his eyes. They are all terrified of his serious, accusatory, analytical gaze.

➺ That said, once the gose staff announce that no, your sudden appearance is not punishment. In fact, it’s a reward for doing well on a previous gose episode, his behaviour does a 180 degree change almost instantaneously. He becomes all smiley and he will nod approvingly at you for being the most amazing reward he’s ever gotten on this god forsaken show (Jeonghan and Joshua would coo at you, just try and change my mind). He then vows to take out all the other members during this game. With you by his side, on his team, there’s no way he won’t win. He’ll be unstoppable. He’s going to win. He chuckles evilly, already scheming. The rest of the members cower in fear. They are not going home in one piece today are they?

➺ Bonus: Jeonghan’s first reaction would be “ahhh why did you call y/n in? Is this to punish me because I keep cheating? I told you I don’t cheat, I just don’t exactly play by all the rules.” Then, when he realises you’re on his team. He cheats even more. You’ll understand right? He wants to win for you!

ଓ༉ He’s excited because maybe for once he can win a game during gose

Junhui, Mingyu, Dokyeom

➺ He’s in shock when you walk onto set in front of the camera. His jaw drops and you can see the gears turning in his head. When it finally sinks in that you are the guest star of gose today, he screams and whoops for joy. He’s running up to you, hugging you and fake crying, whining to you how much he suffers during gose. But you knew that already don’t you? That’s why you’re here, to help him and protect him from those bad ol’ games and the rest of the members.

➺ As the staff explain what’s going to happen during this gose episode, whether it’s physical games or some version of the mafia game, he’s looking over at you. He’s trying his best to telepathically send you signals through his eyes. His eyes are wide, like they are about to pop out of their sockets. No one else really knows what he’s trying to tell you, though it seems like you do because you’re smiling at him adoringly and nodding your head. (Actually, he was just telling you that you two should team up haha).

➺ You see, he knows that you’re super protective over him. Look at him, how could you say no to that face. He gets bullied one time and he’s sulking and cowering like a kicked puppy/ cat by your side. In an instant, you’re on your feet stalking menacingly to pick a fight with whoever bullied him. Even Jeonghan isn’t safe from you. While you’re busy beating up lecturing that member, he’s standing behind and holding your hand, looking at the rest of the members smugly. Did they think they could get away with bullying him on your watch? If they did, they were sorely mistaken.

➺ At the end of the episode, the staff are announcing that your team is the winner. He’s going to be cheering so loudly and thanking you, saying that you’re his lucky charm since he was finally able to win during an episode of gose. 100% will pester the staff after to let you keep coming back.

➺ Bonus: If you’re playing some ball game or a more physical game, the 3 members will hide behind you. It doesn’t matter that they are all above 1.79m tall. They will use you as a human shield.

ଓ༉ He feels an intense sense of foreboding

Seungcheol, Soonyoung, Seungkwan, Dino

➺ You know the phrase Arnold from the magic school bus always says? “I knew I should have stayed home today”. Yea, that’s his first reaction. He literally groans when the staff introduces you as the special guest. You can see his eyes widen, his breathing hitches, and the colour drains from his face. You collaborating with the gose staff? That’s probably not a good sign right? Especially when he hears the cheers of the rest of the members.

➺ The thing with these 4 members. Seungcheol’s the leader and Dino is the youngest so bullying them is fair game. Soonyoung and Seungkwan have too much beef during gose with the rest of the members. In other words, they have been targeted for this gose episode and there is no way they can escape.

➺ He knows he is doomed. Any hope that you will be on his team is dashed when the staff announce that you will be playing against him. He literally falls to his knees dramatically begging for a chance. It doesn’t matter what type of game it is. He can’t win against you.

➺ As fans watch expectantly to see why he’s doomed, they think it’s because you know him and you’re able to outsmart him. He wishes that was the reason but no. In reality, he’s a whipped boyfriend for you. You have him twirled around your little finger. It seems like the members used his weakness against him. He sees how excited you are to win, your little cheers, your happy little dance. All you need to do is smile at him and he’s fawning all over you. He’s cooing, telling you it’s okay that you want to win. His love for you is stronger than his competitive nature. He’ll accept defeat, he’ll let you win. His self-preservation goes out the window. Just this once. And only because it’s you. Make no mistake though, he vows to take revenge when the rest of the members least expect it. He will make them suffer for humiliating him.

➺ Bonus: Soonyoung tries to cute his way out of losing against you. He’s doing every trick in the book, horanghaeing, rawring, fake crying. It doesn’t work. He fails instantly when you shake your head and harumph, turning away from him. Then he’s immediately on his knees begging you not to ignore him. Is he a tiger? No. Hamster? No. Whipped boyfriend for you? Yes.

taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee @zaggprincess2 @nonononranghaee

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champagnefountains · 4 months

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LUCIFER MAGNE – H.H

CHAPTER III (Finale) - Prompt: Lucifer continuing to wear his wedding ring despite being in a relationship with you.

Previous chapters: I [x], II [x] Word count: 2.6k+ words (unedited) Genre/other tags: Angst with comfort. Good ending. Jealousy. Warnings: Cursing (of course). Gets a little bit heated towards the end, but nothing too explicit. Alastor being an asshole.

Much to your surprise, you found yourself enjoying Alastor’s company. When he wasn’t being the maddening person that he can be, he was actually quite pleasant to be around. After grabbing the items that Charlie had requested (which had all been teleported back to the hotel), Alastor convinced you to have a leisurely stroll around the outskirts of town. There, he introduced you to the many places he frequented, from the small, homey cafe he would always go to, to even the butchers where he purchases his premium meats. All the while, you tried to ignore the looks that you got from the surrounding residents – a mixture of fear and distaste were sent towards the radio-demon, whilst others stared at you in question, wondering who you may be and what you were doing with the Overlord.

Even though you weren’t in the mood to chat, Alastor was more than happy to fill in the silence, sharing a couple stories and cracking corny jokes here and there, which you had to admit were pretty funny. After an exhausting week, it made you realise how nice it was to actually smile and laugh again.

After a couple hours, you both made your way back to the hotel. All the while, Alastor had been recounting a narrative from his times in the living world which had taken a particularly hilarious turn, causing you both to chuckle aloud. You wiped the amused tear that escaped your eye as Alastor pushed through the front doors of the establishment.

“Oh, fuck no!” A familiar voice shouted from the distance, startling and causing you to flinch on the spot. Swiftly turning your head to the source of the ruckus, you were dumbfounded to see Lucifer himself, stomping his way towards your direction with a vexed expression. Behind him, you saw a distressed Charlie staggering towards him as Vaggie followed suit.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, you asshole!?” Lucifer growled, getting up close and personal with Alastor, whilst poking an accusatory finger against his chest. Before you could’ve reacted, you were then pulled back by the deer-demon, who draped an arm around your shoulders.

“Now, now, why the sudden hostility? I was only taking my darling [Name] out for a much needed breath of fresh air!” Alastor chimes, feigning innocence and batting his lashes. “I took it upon myself to look after her wellbeing. We’ve all been so worried since she’s just been so, so dispirited and blue lately…and I’m sure you know why that is, your highness.” The backhanded comment caused you to swiftly peer up at the Overlord, baffled by the harshness of his remark. But as you observe his ever-growing grin, it only then struck you, the sole purpose behind his kind display towards you.

Meanwhile, it had Lucifer fuming. Literally. “Why you little, piece of shit–” The King then grabbed Alastor by his dress-shirt, the fabric scorching under his touch, “who the fuck do you think you are, talking to me like that?” Seeing the growing tension between the two men, Charlie immediately stepped forward. “Dad, stop it,” she sternly said, grabbing his wrist in warning. Lucifer was quick to shake the girl’s hand off, tightening his grip on Alastor’s shirt, “No, Charlie, I need to put this pompous asshole back in his place! It seems he doesn’t know basic courtesy, and how to keep out of other people’s business.”

Alastor chortles mockingly in response. “Oh, hoh? You speak of courtesy? I believe you should take your own advice, your highness, as you seem to lack consideration to those around you,” he pushed even further, all the while peering down at you from the corner of his eyes. Lucifer follows his line of sight, his eyes landing on the troubled expression etched on your face. His gaze softened for a brief moment, before hardening once more as he fixed his attention back to the Overlord.

“You better shut that damn trap of yours if you know what’s good for you,” Lucifer warns deeply. “Now, I’m merely sticking up for a dear pal of mine. So tell me, what exactly is so wrong about that?” Alastor shoots back, harshly flicking the man’s hand away. Tutting, he patted down his now-tattered suit, an eye twitching in mild annoyance.

“It is when you decide to overstep boundaries.” With a blink of an eye, Lucifer’s scleras suddenly switched over to a red hue, sending you into sudden caution. Alastor’s grin turned almost sinister at the challenging tone. “Perhaps it’s necessary to do so. After all, dear [Name] over here had a pleasant time. There was no harm done.”

The King gritted his teeth, his horns threatening to reveal themselves, “Oh, but that’s what you think. ‘Cause someone will be harmed if you decide to keep this shit up–”

“Lucifer, stop.” Almost instantaneously, the King’s fumes were extinguished as he turned his gaze towards you. He felt shame fill him to the core at the sight of your disappointed expression, glaring at him in disapproval. Baffled, he opened his mouth to speak, “[Name], I–”

“Don’t,” you sternly intervene, raising a hand to silence him. You then send a critical glance back at Alastor, forcibly pushing his arm off of you, “And you. I don’t know what the hell you were thinking of, pulling a stunt like this and using my vulnerability for your sick entertainment, but I expect you to apologise to Charlie and everyone else here for causing all this ruckus.” You ignored the way the radio-demon’s eyes rolled as you pushed through, stepping forward to grab Lucifer by the wrist, before dragging him along towards the staircase leading to your rooms. In doing so, you offer an apologetic look to your friends as you pass by the bar, who nodded back in silent understanding and awe.

The walk towards your shared room was painfully silent as the both of you dreaded the upcoming confrontation. As the number of your shared room came into view, you let go of Lucifer to wordlessly invite yourself inside. The King followed suit with hesitant steps, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. Rubbing his arms self-consciously, his downcast eyes trailed up to you. You had plopped yourself down on the furthest side of the bed across the room, your back facing towards him and posture slumped over. Lucifer let out a shaky breath.

“...[Name], darling. I’m sorry,” he starts softly, nervously squeezing his hands into fists, “I shouldn’t have let him get under my skin. It was–It was childish of me. I didn’t mean to upset you–“

“Y’know, you’ve got some nerve acting the way you did…” you suddenly cut in, voice surprisingly faint but filled with melancholy, “...acting all resentful and jealous towards Alastor–who mind you, was actually just taking me out for a walk–when you yourself still seem to be preoccupied with your ex.” Lucifer grimaced at the venom laced in your tone. Ouch. Though it was deserving, he dejectedly thinks to himself.

“[Name], please, I-I can explain everything. I didn’t mean for tonight to go the way it did,” Lucifer pleaded whilst staring at the back of your head. He didn’t know whether his sincerity was effectively making its way through to you.

“Then what were you planning?” You say sharply, your voice raising a bit, “I…Lucifer, just please tell me what’s going on. Just tell me the truth.” Your eyes started to blur as a sob threatened to escape your throat. “Because I’m tired of this. I-I’m so tired of feeling so insecure, confused and lost, and I...I-I don’t even know what you want from me anymore.” You hang your head down low, hugging yourself tightly as the tears begin to pour out uncontrollably, “If…if you’re planning on breaking up with me, just go ahead and say it! I-I don't want to be waddling 'round like some–some idiot, waiting for you to–”

“No. Wha–[Name], no. Don’t even go there.” Lucifer said incredulously, immediately marching towards your side of the bed. He kneels down in front of you, reaching out to grab at your shaking hands. “That’s not why I’m here, okay? It’s not even remotely close to what I have to say. So please get that idea out of your head,” he reaffirms, while rubbing his thumbs against your hands in a reassuring manner. You decided to keep your gaze down, having no strength to look Lucifer in the eye, knowing fully well that you’d break even more if you were to do so. Your tiny gasps and hiccups were what filled the room, tearing the King’s heart bit by bit, with every second that passed. With no words spoken on your behalf, Lucifer took this as a cue to continue.

“[Name]…I’m sorry for upsetting you. That’s the last thing I ever wanted to do. I-I know I’ve got a lot of baggage, and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself for making you carry that burden with me. I…I did a lot of thinking during our time apart, and it made me realise how much of a fool I was–of how blind I was to what was in front of me. I took for granted your love and kindness. I-It wasn’t fair to you, and you didn’t deserve that. I-I truly didn't know what I was thinking, continuing to wear that ring. I came to terms and knew deep down for so long, even before we got together, that there wasn’t a possibility that Lilith and I would ever get together again. And yes, I do love Lilith. She’s been with me since the beginning of time and for most of eternity, and is the mother of my only child. Perhaps it was the memories that we shared that kept me hanging on for so long, I thought. She didn’t do anything wrong by me either…we just…sort of grew apart after a while. I-I don’t know why, but regardless…it hurt a lot. And even despite her absence now, I still do love her.”

At that, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. His words were like a harsh punch to the gut. It was nauseating, and the room felt like it was caving in on you. Devastated, you attempted to pull yourself away to leave the room, but was forced to still as Lucifer reached up to cup a hand over your dampened cheek. He gently tugs your face upward, his eyes softening and staring deep into your crestfallen, reddened ones.

“But darling, it’s not the same anymore. It’s different now. And it’s because you changed that. Yes, Lilith will continue to be an important person in my life, there’s no doubt about it. But…it’s you, darling. I choose you. You mended and opened up my heart when I was a hundred-percent certain that I couldn’t for another soul again. Each second and moment I spent with you made me become so hopeful and excited for the future and whatever lies ahead of us. Alongside Charlie, you've made me the happiest I’ve ever been in so, so long. And it’s you who fortunately gave me a second chance in this life. I'm so grateful for you, and words can’t even express how much you mean to me. A-And I’m sorry it took a while for me to realise that, and for hurting you in the process.” Eyes closing, he leans in to press his forehead against yours.

“And yes, it might take a bit more time to put this all behind me, and I-I apologise. But…I’m finally ready to take that leap with you. My heart is yours for the taking–as long as you’ll have me, that is. And I-I don’t expect you to forgive me now–I wouldn’t even forgive myself either. But, if it’s space that you want and need, I’ll respect that. But just know that I love you. And I’m sorry if I made it seem that I don’t, or don’t show it enough. But believe me…I love you. I love you so damn much.”

The sincere confession left you speechless, feeling yourself practically melt into his hands like pudding. A sensation akin to relief crashed over you like a wave, finally hearing the words that you longed for, for over a week. With a broken sigh, you cupped a hand over his own, leaning in to bask in his touch. Your breath then hitched at the realisation that he had taken off his wedding ring, no longer feeling the cold metal against your skin – it was only his warmth alone that welcomed you. Your chest suddenly felt immensely full, overwhelmed by his love and affection, but also by the guilt that came for your previous words and actions that night. Your furrowed your brows, your tears clouding your vision once more, “Luci, I…I’m so sorry. I-I’m sorry for pushing you too much. I was being too selfish a-and I didn’t even stop to think about how you felt. I-I should’ve been more understanding and–”

Lucifer was quick to hush you, wiping your tears and shaking his head. “Darling, no. There’s no need for you to apologise, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one in the wrong. And if anything, I needed that push.” He then leans in to press a lingering smooch on your forehead, “But I truly mean it when I say it, though. I do really love you. Being without you these past few days drove me insane–it’s crazy how much of an effect you have on me.” He tearfully chuckles.

A smile made its way up to your quivering lips, a blush dusting your cheeks from the sweet remark, “I love you too, Luci.”

Despite the wide grin that erupted on his face, it was humbled down by a tentative guise. “...Are we going to be okay?” He quietly asks, his eyes peering up at you in a hopeful manner. Your eyes softened at his uncertainty. Sniffling, you reach out and pull him into a hug, your face huddled into the crook of his neck. Lucifer was quick to return the gesture, holding you close and breathing in your comforting scent. Mumbling a response into his neck, you say something incomprehensible, causing the man to chuckle softly into your hair. “Come on. Use your words, love,” he teased against your ear. You giggled, all the while nodding your head, “Y-Yeah…we’ll be okay.”

At that, Lucifer gently slowly pulled away, before leaning in to close the distance between you, pressing his lips against yours. The King inhaled your whimpers as the kiss grew increasingly sensual and near-desperate, his hands beginning to wander down your waist. Lucifer then stood up from the ground, your lips remaining connected as he pushed you flat against the bed. Straddling your hips between his legs, his lips began to trail down your neck, biting and pecking at your feverish skin, all the while dragging his hands up your sides to pin your hands beside either side of your head. "Luci, please," you whined, feeling his sharp teeth graze above your pulse. He slowly made his way back up to meet you once more, pushing his tongue inside your mouth.

Eventually, the both of you unwillingly parted for air, foreheads pressed together as you both took a brief moment to catch your breath. You both stared at each other lovingly, basking in each others' presence. “You’re perfect for me, my angel,” Lucifer whispers, softly pecking both your cheeks, your nose, then at your lips, “never forget that.”

It was clear that the both of you had some work to do, there was no question about that. He wasn’t as perfect as he made out to be, but neither were you. But since you have each other’s company, and with your newfound reconnection, you both knew that things will eventually turn out okay.

A/N: And that brings us to the very end! Thank you for reading and all the support you've shown for this mini-series! I'll now be focusing on requests~

#lucifer magne x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar

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brainwormcity · 5 months

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I've seen people remark on how awkward the 1967 scene is and that is so frustrating because, for me, it is one of the most emotionally resonant flashbacks in the entire series. It is so multifaceted and ripe with implication and that assertion is baffling. As though just because this conversation appears to be hard for them, it must mean that there has to be some sense of weirdness or awkwardness between them?

This scene feeds heavily into my theory that 1941 ended in some sort of aborted romantic moment between the two, most likely initiated by Crowley. Aziraphale can barely stand to look at Crowley because the very first moment he looks him in the face, he can't stop himself from giving him this hooded eyes, barely contained look of longing.

The next thing we see is Aziraphale immediately launching into a statement about his fear for Crowley's existence that is as brutally sincere as it is heartrending. His eyes are wide, his voice is heavy with emotion, and it's clear that he is terrified beyond belief to lose Crowley. Even as he acquiesces and gives him the holy water, you can see that he wants to take it back and deny him it all over again.

Then, of course, Crowley asks if he can give him a lift, which is definitely something that they both know is a totally different question than what lies on the surface, given that they're mere feet from the bookshop and at first Crowley frowns so deeply that it's almost cartoonish but a moment after Aziraphale turns him down you get this glimpse of very real sadness:

Aziraphale sees it for what it is and in an attempt to comfort him, without being able to do what currently seems impossible to him, shares a fanciful but resigned fantasy about spending time together unbothered and unrestrained, all to the tune of these tight little, loving smiles:

When he asks again, you can just see Crowley's desperation for Aziraphale not to go. It's hard to say how long they'd been apart, but it's safe to say that for them, that previous interaction likely is very fresh in their minds.

Aziraphale has always been more fearful than Crowley when it comes to their feelings for each other. You could even potentially look at the holy water as a metaphor for their relationship. In his expressions of concern about The Arrangement, Aziraphale has always been remarking on how Crowley could be destroyed, similarly to his words here. So when he's telling him, "You go too fast for me, Crowley," what he's really saying is, "I'm terribly afraid and I'm not ready to take that step if it means that I could lose you." And it's plain to see by the wistful look on his face that it pains him greatly to say it:

The scene so quickly cuts to Crowley looking intensely at the holy water after Aziraphale has left the car (as if trying to convince you that that was the real point of the scene) that it's easy to miss this devastated expression on Crowley's face:

There's no look of perceived rejection on his face. Just a somber look of resignation. There are so many barriers in front of them, and I think that Crowley was willing to risk it but understood that Aziraphale wasn't ready to.

This is the most honest and laid bare we ever see these two be when it comes to their emotions. There's so much being said without being said and even their actual words (i.e. Crowley remembering exactly the amount of time when the 'fraternizing' conversation happened) are so full of emotion that it might even be a bit hard for some people to watch.

It's not awkward. It's just that the scene is just so incredibly earnest and heavy with coded language that it's easy to be swept up by the fact that the two aren't engaged in their typical banter and bickering. What we truly have here is an incredibly difficult and loving conversation between two people who are stuck in a seemingly impossible situation.

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #michael sheen #david tennant #good omens meta #abel talks meta #good omens through the ages #good omens 1967 #signed by an autistic pwBPD with a penchant for over-analyizing tone and body language #anthony j crowley #you go too fast for me crowley

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edenesth · 2 months

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TWTHH Bonus: Honeymoon Avenue

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

A/N: This picks up directly from the final part of TWTHH, and takes place before the events of Wooyoung's spinoff.

Fic Masterlist | Star of the Show

You let out a small groan as you woke up from your slumber, feeling a familiar pair of arms tightening their hold around you. Your heart skipped a beat as you remembered where you were, blinking a few times to clear your vision and take in the surroundings you recognised as Seonghwa's private quarters.

Warmth rushed to your cheeks as you felt your husband's steady breath against the bare skin of your shoulder from behind. Shyness washed over you when you realised you were both still completely bare beneath the fabric of his comforter.

Memories of the intimacy from the previous night flooded your mind, and you buried your face in the pillow. It was as if you could still feel every touch, every kiss, and every moment of pleasure he had given you. So, this was how it felt to be loved so passionately. You hoped for nothing more than for him to be your first and last.

"Good morning, my love. I see you're up," his deep voice greeted, sounding even deeper than usual as he had only just woken up. He leaned in to whisper sensually into your ear before planting a soft kiss on your cheek, "Did you sleep well?"

Turning to face him, you nodded meekly, biting your lip, "I did, Hwa. Good morning to you too," you replied, feeling your breath hitch as his gaze focused solely on your lips.

He nodded in response, "Good, so did I." Without hesitation, he cupped your cheek and pressed his lips firmly against yours.

Your eyes fluttered shut the moment his familiar lips met yours. Kissing him back as if it were second nature, you wished for this moment to last forever as his larger frame enveloped yours, the skin-to-skin contact creating an intimacy that made you feel closer than ever. His ability to make you feel vulnerable yet safe at the same time still filled you with wonder. At that moment, his presence was all-encompassing; he was all you could see and think of.

I can't believe this man is all mine.

Seonghwa, equally content, felt his heart swell with affection for you. Caressing your cheek, he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, struggling to control his breathing when you bravely reached up to run your fingers through his hair, gently tugging at it. Despite witnessing your growing boldness since his return from war, your reciprocation of his affections still stirred his heart.

I'm yours and only yours, my love.

As you finally broke the kiss to catch your breath, he grinned and murmured, "Damn, Lady Park, who would've thought you'd be such an excellent kisser." Despite the blush creeping up your cheeks, you scoffed playfully. Moving to lay your head on his chest, you traced patterns on his skin with your finger, "What do you know, General Park? You speak as though you've kissed anyone other than me."

His pride swelled as he nodded in defeat to your response. Day by day, you were increasingly embodying the essence of the general's wife with your newfound demeanour. It wasn't that you needed to change for him; rather, it was remarkable to witness your transformation into a confident woman who knew her worth, having shed the old shell crafted by your so-called family. Reflecting on his time away at war, he began to see it as a blessing in disguise. Perhaps it was necessary for you to undergo further personal growth.

Nestling into the curve of his neck, you pulled the comforter up higher to conceal your front. A shiver raced down your spine as his hand traced gentle patterns on your bare back beneath the fabric, making you feel slightly bashful at being so exposed to him. He smirked, placing a kiss on your neck and teasing, "Are you getting shy now, my wife? There's no need to cover up or hide from me; I've already seen everything."

"You can be so annoying, you know that?" Rolling your eyes, you playfully pushed at his chest, but he easily resisted, his strength overpowering your feeble attempts. With feather-light kisses dancing across your skin, he tickled you, eliciting a giggle. Chuckling, he remarked, "Oh, come on. I miss the bold Lady Park who took charge last night."

Blushing, you let out an embarrassed squeal, "Oh, quit it! Stop reminding me!" He chuckled, hugging you close against him, his voice teasing as he whispered in your ear, "Remember how badly you wanted me to undo your hanbok?"

"Shut up, Park Seonghwa, or else—"

"Or else what, my dear Lady Park?"

Your husband's smug grin only fueled your frustration. Summoning a surge of determination, you swiftly flipped him onto the bed, looming over him as you straddled his hips, "I'll make you regret it," you declared, a playful glare in your eyes.

His heart skipped a beat as he looked up at you, struck by your beauty with your long hair framing your face like a curtain.

"Go ahead, my love. Make me regret."

Unbeknownst to the two, Eunsook and the group of maids assigned to bathe the couple all exchanged sheepish glances. The head maid cleared her throat, shooting a stern look at the young maids to silence them for fear of alerting you both, ordering in a soft voice, "We'll come back later. It seems the master and mistress are not quite prepared to begin their day just yet."

Jongho was taken aback to see the elderly woman return with the maids she had brought along, supposedly to get the couple ready for the day, "Huh? Are you all finished already? That was fast."

Dismissing the maids, Eunsook offered the assistant a knowing smile, "It appears the master and mistress are, um... still occupied at the moment. We'll come back later to check on them. For now, please ensure no one disturbs them."

His ears turned red as he registered what she meant by that, nodding quickly, "Y-yes, of course! I'll make sure no one passes through."

As half a day slipped away, you and Seonghwa finally emerged from his quarters, ready to receive your baths. The maids couldn't contain their giggles as they noticed the new marks adorning your skin, evidence of the passionate night—and morning—you and the general had shared. These marks were different from your old scars—they spoke of love and affection rather than pain. You pouted at their laughter, but they only laughed harder, "Enough, you meanies."

Eunsook softened as she washed your hair, "We're just happy for you, mistress. You are happy, aren't you?"

You bit your lip, nodding, "I am happy. The happiest woman on earth, if possible."

"Then that's all that matters to us."

Their hearts warmed at the beautiful smile that graced your face, wishing for nothing more than for you to remain content for as long as possible. You, the miracle who had brought so much light into the once sombre halls of the general's estate, truly deserved all the happiness in the world.

On the other side of the room, while assisting his master with the final touches of his outfit for the day, Jongho couldn't help but notice Seonghwa's dreamy expression and the persistent little smile on his handsome face.

"You seem to be in a good mood, sir," the assistant remarked as he focused on fastening the ribbons on the general's attire. Your husband nodded, "I am. Who would've thought married life isn't half as bad as we initially believed. In fact, it's pretty damn amazing. You should try it too, Jongho."

Blinking rapidly, the younger man raised a brow, "Try what? Marriage? Sir, I have no time for that. I'd make a terrible husband."

Seonghwa sighed, "See, that's your problem. You're always too dedicated, never making time for yourself. As much as I value your dedication, I want you to find happiness too."

"I am content, sir."

"Oh, come on, that's not what I meant—"

"Your outfit is ready, sir. You're all set."

Shaking his head in resignation, the general rubbed his temples, "Wooyoung was right about you. You need to get a life."

"He said what? The audacity—"

Heaving a deep sigh, Seonghwa rubbed his eyes after going over all the reports Mingi had prepared detailing every aspect of the recent war with Ruhon—the strategies employed and areas for improvement. The documents required his stamp of approval before they were shipped off to be stored in the palace archives. The military strategist had provided such detailed explanations that they were now giving him a headache.

"Gosh, I can't decide whether I love or hate Officer Song for these long ass reports. They're thorough to the point of being exhausting," he said with a shake of his head, "Is that everything, Jongho?"

The assistant nodded, gathering the completed scrolls to be delivered to San for a final vetting, "Yes, sir. That was the last of it. You're finished for the day. If that is all, I should probably hand these over to Royal Secretary Choi immediately."

"Oh, thank god. Go ahead, Jongho."

With a respectful bow, the younger man did not waste another second making a beeline for the exit, his mind focused on nothing else but his task. The general stared after him with a defeated huff, wishing for his aide to be a little less uptight and to live a little, "I should probably find him a wife."

Speaking of wives, he was reminded of his own. Suddenly, all concerns for Jongho's love life were pushed to the back of his mind and forgotten. Excitedly rising from his seat, his heart raced with anticipation as he set off to find you. He felt bad for leaving you alone for most of the day due to his work, but now he couldn't wait to have you all to himself.

Oh, it would feel like paradise.

He frowned, his steps faltering when he found you nowhere in the House of Lotus. Hastening his pace, he headed to the garden, where you often spent time tending to the flowers with Eunsook and the maids, only to find it empty. As a last resort, he even checked Yunho's quarters, torn between relief at finding the physician alone and frustration at not finding you.

Could you be upset with him for not spending time with you all day? No, that didn't seem like you at all. You were literally the most understanding person he knew. So, where could you be hiding? The wildest scenarios began to creep into his mind when he couldn't find you. What if his enemies had somehow infiltrated the estate? What if you were kidnapped? What if—

His thoughts were interrupted by the sight of you in the living hall, seated with Hongjoong and Wooyoung, seemingly engrossed in something. The two men watched you intently, particularly the investigator, who seemed more focused on your face than whatever you were doing. With a clearing of his throat, Seonghwa crossed his arms over his chest, "What are you three up to?"

Turning to glare at him, the dressmaker hushed him, "Keep it down, you doofus! She's trying to concentrate!"

Feeling offended, your husband narrowed his eyes and stepped closer to finally see what you had been up to; you were focused on learning embroidery. It dawned on him that Hongjoong must be teaching you a bit about his craft. He softened as he observed the deeply immersed look on your face, with your tongue poking out of the corner of your lips in concentration.

Good lord, she looks adorable.

In his attempt to move closer to you, he was met with yet another warning glare, causing annoyance to bubble within him. While he was grateful for the company Hongjoong and Wooyoung provided you in his absence, a part of him couldn't shake the irritation of seeing you accompanied by other men, even if they were his friends.

At that moment, he questioned why the guys were still around. The dressmaker, physician, and investigator had only been summoned while he was away at war to watch over you. Now that he was back home, he realised their presence was no longer necessary. It was then that he made a firm decision. From now on, he was determined to spend this time after your wedding alone with you.

The general wasted no time gathering his three friends that evening as soon as your embroidery lesson came to an end. With a polite yet firm tone, he explained his desire to have some alone time with you, dismissing them from the estate. Hongjoong and Yunho exchanged knowing glances, understanding the importance of the honeymoon period for passionate newlyweds like yourselves. Although Wooyoung was reluctant to go, he ultimately knew he had no choice but to comply with Seonghwa's request.

In a matter of days, the trio officially left the estate, returning to their own lives. This left you and your husband alone at last, ready to begin this new chapter of your lives together.

True to his expectations, the weeks that followed were pure bliss. He requested time off from work, and His Majesty was happy to oblige. He spent nearly every waking hour glued to you. By this point, everyone in the estate knew better than to interrupt when the master and mistress wanted privacy, ensuring the couple had all the intimate moments they needed. There were even jokes among the staff that a little Park might be on the way soon at this rate.

And perhaps their predictions weren't so far-fetched after all. It was on a fine day when you were spending another lovely afternoon in the House of Lotus practising embroidering, or at least tried to, with your husband seated behind you, his arms encircling your frame, that you began to show signs of sickness.

Leaving kisses all over your neck, he tickled you endlessly, causing you to giggle and push him away, "Hwa, please, I can't focus when you keep—" Before you could finish your sentence, a sudden wave of nausea hit you, and you let out a small gasp, pressing a hand to your chest to contain it.

Concerned, he immediately stopped and turned you around gently, "What is it, my love? Are you alright?"

"I-I'm fine... the feeling's gone, maybe it was something I ate," you reassured him when he suggested summoning the physician. Eventually, he relented and left you alone.

The second time occurred during dinner, with the kitchen having prepared one of your favourite dishes. Instead of savouring it as you normally would, you pressed a hand to your nose, "You okay, my wife?" you nodded and attempted to eat, only to end up retching from the smell of the dish.

Once again, you insisted you were fine and refused to see the doctor. He let you be, telling himself that if anything else were to happen, he wouldn't hesitate to call Yunho over. You convinced him that you must have caught the cold or something, seemingly fine after some rest.

The breaking point came during a leisurely stroll together in the garden. He tightened his hold on you when he noticed you swaying slightly. Smiling up at him, you reassured him, "I'm fine, Hwa. You worry too much." To ease his worries, you pressed your lips against his. For a moment, it worked, and he lost himself in the sweet kiss.

However, when you pulled back, seemingly out of breath, his heart lurched in his chest as your eyes rolled back, and he didn't waste a second catching your limp form in his arms.

"Jongho! Get Physician Jung here now!"

The sense of terror hit Seonghwa like a tidal wave as he found himself cradling you, unconscious, on his bed. Seeing you like this scared him more than any war ever could. Yunho rushed in shortly after, and the general reluctantly stepped aside to let the doctor examine you. Gently, he held your wrist, reading your pulse, after ensuring you were physically alright.

A few tense moments later, the taller man turned around with a smile, and your husband held his breath, "Congratulations, General Park. Your wife is with child."

Emotions surged within your husband as he released a sigh of relief, tears gathering in his eyes. The realisation dawned on him—of course, you were pregnant. How had he not considered that sooner? Slowly, the significance of it all began to sink in. The love of his life was carrying his child.

I'm going to be a father.

Y'all, I was sleep-deprived asf writing the second half part of this bonus part HAHA I hope it didn't seem rushed or anything.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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