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joonipertree · 11 months

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Gang Leader Girlfriend Things™

Tags: Mikey x Fem!reader, Fluff, crack, no angst, he's only soft for you <3, love of his life

You know, I think the first rule of joining a gang should be 'don't piss off the leader'. Like, you wanna fight people who can whoop your ass? Go for it, that takes courage and respect. But you join a gang like Toman with 'Invincible Mikey' as the head, the one thing you should probably not do is make him mad.

(Nobody is stupid enough to do that though, much less Toman.)

Mikey personally didn't fight the weak, finds no joy in something that isn't a challenge. Two highschoolers that got recruited by Mitchy's crew? He could tell they were nothing from the back of their babbling heads.

"My god, there's no way a girl like that is here. She's so fucking hot."

"What's a girl even doing in a gang? There's no way she fights."

Mikey's eye twitched. Not only are you most definitely in Toman, with a gang jacket and everything (You had your own but you ended up wearing his most of the time, pretty in what's his.) One of Toman's strongest was Senju, someone who would kick their ass too.

"Do you think she's single?"

"She is not." Mikey drawled, eyes dead and head tilted. Draken came behind him, wondering why his captain was just standing there. Mikey was always friendly with new members but very evidently, those two were an exception.

"What a bummer. She could've been mine."

Draken wanted to laugh so badly but Mikey's hand was warning him into silence before he could.

Mikey couldn't see the dude's face but knew that he was too ugly for you. You weren't into pathetic fucks. And the only person Mikey was pathetic for, was you.

A lot of gang members' eyes were on them now, ready to bow to their captain but stopping when Draken raised his palm. They could tell something was off, looking at the two kids who just didn't bother turning. The aura around Mikey was practically tangible though, suffocating to anyone who took notice.

Yamagishi staggered towards his friends, ready to point out the very dangerous threat behind them. Of course, he was the one who recruited them. If he wasn't Takemitchy's friend, Mikey would've added him to his blacklist. Mikey's finger against his lip kept Yamagishi from saying anything. Their fates were sealed already.

"Man, I could probably take her boyfriend on. Easy win and I get her."

Draken choked, Yamagishi wanted to die, the few people who were close enough to listen stepped away. Mikey still didn't say anything, because the moment he was waiting for finally happened.

Chifuyu had let you know of the arrival with a nod of his head, pausing in his rant about a manga you guys had been reading. You saw Draken's head first, eyes lowering, knowing that Mikey would always fall close. And there he was, his blond ponytail the only thing you could see. Your heart filled up like it always did because fuck, you wanted to consume him in your love. His eyes peaked out and your smile stretched your cheeks.

You walked as if on auto pilot, feet having a pep in them as you did. He stepped out in full view and you squealed at his gentle eyes and outstretched arms. You practically ran to him, you missed him and missed him and missed him.

Your shoulder grazed someone's as you zoomed past and launched yourself into Manjiro's warm embrace. Strong arms encircled you immediately, his cheek squishing against yours. And before you knew it, your feet were off the ground as he twirled you around. Unabashed laughter left your lips, hanging onto him and letting his warm and wet kisses pepper your face. The swooping in your chest was welcomed, clinging to the boy you've loved for years. Your precious----

"Hi, Jiro~" You crooned, eyes open to catch his reddened cheeks and sparkling eyes.

He put your feet on the ground and pulled you close by the waist, noses touching each other's.

"Hi, baby." He said in a hushed voice.

You gave his cheek a peck, knowing one on the lips would result in him not getting off of you. There was supposed to be a meeting, so you decided to have him later. Being a gang leader's girlfriend was hard work.

"Did you have a good day?" You asked, knowing he woke up an hour ago, barely in the realm to text you a 'good morning, honey' ('Morning' in Mikey's realm was 1pm).

"Mhm." Mikey hummed, giving your cheek a kiss too. You relished in it.

"Where are you going?" Draken's voice came gruffly and you saw the tall man with his hands on two members' shoulders.

Your boyfriend's gaze fell on them, hardened and cold. It made you shiver, his arms tightening around you when you did. It didn't scare you, he looked hot but it never meant anything good.

You blinked at the two boys, confused and just now noticing the complete silence and the eyes of everyone on you.

I mean, you were a spectacle whenever Jiro was involved but weren't they used to it by now?

"You guys have really bad awareness if you didn't notice me even when I spoke up. I don't know if we want that in our gang." Mikey's words were sweet but dripping in venom, a grin to hide his clear rage.

"I'm so so sorry, boss! We didn't know she was yours, I swear!!" Dude no 1 got on his knees immediately, more so because his legs gave out.

"It's our first day, please have mercy." Dude no 2 shouted, bowing till his head met the floor.

Oh, you thought, they were actual idiots.

Seeing people bow and beg at your boyfriend was always surreal. You knew he had repertoire and respect because of years of being a gang leader. Personally, you never really understood gang things tm. But you knew your Mikey could kick ass and people looked up to him, so you always enjoyed the times he did gang leader things tm cuz it was hot.

"Yamagishi, you recruited them so you have responsibility. Have anything to add?" Mikey asked the frozen boy, who probably stopped breathing a long time ago.

"Uh, it was Takemitchy's idea?" The boy said, knowing who Mikey's kryptonite was.

"You're the one who asked me. Don't try to get me killed along with them!" The acting president hollered.

Mikey turned to his best friend, smile still plastered on his face. If Takemitchy didn't have the trauma to back up his biggest endeavour, he would be worried that the dark impulse would've possessed him from that interaction alone.

"Mitchy, normally I would let the head captain step in for any decision made about their division. But since they directly challenged me, we have to deal with it like all gangs do, right?"

"We didn't....we didn't know, promise!" Dude no 2 peeped out.

"Hmm, but wasn't it you who said that you could take her boyfriend on? It'd be an easy win? There's enough people who witnessed that."

"Oh, Lord Almighty." Takemitchy murmured, "nothing can save them now."

"Not even an hour in and they're going to die." Another murmur from the crowd. (It was Ran)

"I never said that, I am not a part of this." Dude no 1 threw his friend under the bus immediately. It was understandable.

"'She could've been mine,'" Mikey practically sang, taking off his jacket, "is what you said, right?"

"No I couldn't," you spoke absentmindedly, only looking at your boyfriend cuz you'd lost interest in the morons, "you're too ugly for me."

It was a blow that hit almost as hard as the kick they were about to receive. Mikey let out an affectionate snort as he covered your head with his jacket. The heavy material blocking your peripheral as he left your side within a second. A sick crack brandished the air, followed by two thuds.

"Welp, that fight didn't last. How boring, wanted to show off." Mikey sounded bored, the asphalt crunching under his slippers as he walked back.

"Are they--" Takemitchy's panicked pitch followed, a very common tone whenever Mikey was involved.

"Breathing." Draken called out, giving them a light kick on the side to check.

"Takemitchy, your crew is banned from recruiting." Their leader yelled back with his head only half turned, a flurry of 'yes sir!'s came.

"Thank you for holding onto my jacket, baby." Mikey whispered as he took the jacket off your head and draped it on his shoulders. His eyes were back to being kind and gentle, warm hand cupping your face in gratitude. You melted into him, eyes closing. He left a kiss on your forehead, keeping you close.

"Ah, I'm hungry," he whined, "let's go get mcdonald's. I didn't eat breakfast."

"You didn't?" You asked as he interwined your fingers together and tugged.

"I had cereal but that barely counts." Mikey started chattering on, waving a hand to dismiss the meeting that never began.

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xervn · 2 months

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like a french girl 🎨

part 1 - paint me | part 2 | art major ellie x dance major reader | ellie photo

ao3 link

summary: ellie had been struggling with finding the perfect model for her art final. that was until she saw you.

18+ MDNI | 2.2k words | tags; college au, pining, only a little explicit, no use of y/n, not proofread

disclaimer: not an art or dance major, don't shoot!

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Scribble, scratch, throw. This has been Ellie’s routine since she moved onto campus.

Why? Her professor told her that she draws the human body like it’s lifeless. Ranting about how they’re too one-dimensional and have no depth, her lines are too sharp or not sharp enough; flat and boring in looks and in feeling.

Now listen, Ellie has nothing against criticism. She respects her professor and she’s aware that her drawings lack “vitality”. It’s been something she’s struggled with for a while now, an effect of some recent events and overall adjusting to college life.

Ellie isn’t unable to grasp the anatomy of the body, in fact it’s the opposite. She knows the human body is complex and needs thorough observation. The way the sun hits the skin, the hairs on a knuckle, the creases of a smile. Wide, small, big, tall; no two bodies are exactly the same.

Really, the imagery is so clear to her, but she finds it impossible to transfer the life and motion of the body onto a piece of paper without truly understanding the person. The way she sees it, every body has a story, and in order to make a good piece she needs to know that story.

Since art school is filled to the brim with inspiring, exciting, and vibrant people, she has, of course, tried to talk with them. She attempted to get to know the models, ask them general questions and hope something clicks. Unfortunately, that has yet to happen. She can’t really ask her friends either without it getting awkward. Imagine, “ Oh, hey guys! Can you guys get naked and pose in one spot for my homework?” Hear how weird that sounds? Even though she’s sure Jesse would definitely be down, she values her eyes.

Any “muse” she could possibly ever want was right in front of her, so why was it really impossible for her to find one?

Well, because Ellie didn’t find anyone interesting enough. She’s not shallow or anything, it has nothing to do with how the model looked, Ellie has had several good-looking models. It was more about how she perceived them. It’s just that she hasn’t seen a model that made her ask questions like: “ How’d they get that scar?” “ What does that tattoo mean?” Stuff like that.

The last interesting model she had was probably a fucking homeless guy she shared a blunt with outside a gas station many moons ago. Till this day, he might be one of her best pieces. There’s not a lot of moments like that here.

Nonetheless, Ellie saw this developing– extremely lame— personal requirement of hers annoying as shit. It’s holding her back big time, but she couldn’t help it even if she really wanted to.

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It’s practically useless to keep trying. The tiny voice in Ellie's head presses her to keep going, keep failing, but enough is enough. She is seriously burnt out and any more of this might kill her. The only thing that could help right now is a meaty slice of pizza and a blunt as soon as she thought of it.

Ellie clears out her desk, knocking the stack of crumpled paper into a conveniently placed trash can; a placement made from her constant trials and errors. She pushes up, and stretches widely, obnoxiously groaning like an old man by the end of it. She quickly tidied herself up, tying up half of her hair into a ponytail and throwing on a dark-green flannel shirt she had to sniff before wearing over her plain white tee. She takes a quick look into her floor-length mirror, making sure she looks presentable before grabbing what she needs to head out.

Just as her hand reached for the silver knob, Ellie felt this overwhelming urge to look back. God, she knows what she is going to look back at, but she really hopes she doesn’t. Unfortunately, her eyes land on her sketchbook, laid flat on the desk underneath a lamp’s warm light. She shouldn’t.

She needs a break. She knows she needs a break, but there is a twinge of hope, faith, lodged somewhere inside her. The same faith that’s kept her from dropping out every day for the past four months. Ellie groans as she drags her feet to her desk where she whisks up the brown book and shoves it in her tote bag with an accompanying pencil. She swivels back to the door and strolls out, silently praying her mood improves in the next hour.

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The cafeteria was surprisingly crowded, but Ellie managed to get her pizza without saying ‘fuck it’ to the line. Still, the thought of eating between this buzzing mess when she was in such a shitty mood turned her off. Thankfully, she knew that everyone would be everywhere but the upstairs balcony, especially during this chilly time of year. No sane person would eat out there, and she’s not particularly sane. Ellie saunters off to the balcony and sits herself at a small table facing the view.

It only took a glance around before she came to the realization that the view is not really a view. There’s only a dorm a few feet away, directly across. It’s a large brick-laid, generic building with wide windows. If it weren’t for the blinds, the view into a room would probably be good enough to read a label on something. Ellie’s freckled face grimaces at the thought, imagining what it’d be like if someone watched her rage as she messed up her homework over and over from this distance. Despite that, she thought it’d probably be a pretty good spot to live in. It’s close to the cafeteria and probably a lot bigger than her 1x1 dorm.

With a twinge of curiosity piquing her mind, Ellie glimpses over the windows, and for the most part, they are all closed.

All closed, but yours.

Yours doesn’t even have blinds. You’re on the 3rd floor and almost completely unobscured in a black camisole, sitting on your questionably roomy windowsill with a leg perched up. Ellie can see the fairy lights strung up in your bedroom, and a line of succulents closer to the window; ordered by size, which she briefly thought was cute.

You aren’t facing the window, so she can only see your back. What she could see, though, is you doing your hair, occasionally swaying to what she can only imagine is music. Your room is high, but low enough for her to identify you if she had the pleasure of knowing you. Knowing you, reverberates in her head. Does she know you? Has she met you before? Amongst that babble, there is one more question she is slowly trying to gather an answer to.

Time passes, most definitely shorter than Ellie would have thought passed. Her eyes have been glued on you the whole time, she even forgot about her, now freezing cold, pizza just so she could gawk at you. She still hasn’t seen your face yet, barely even a glimpse, but she already thinks you are stupidly beautiful just by the way you move.

From the graciousness of your movements alone, she thought there was no way in hell you didn’t know she was watching. At some point, your arms got tired, so you smoothly rolled your aching shoulders back; stretching into an arched, effortlessly perfect posture. Ellie’s eyes traced that slight curve of your back as if you’d disappear if she broke off from you.

There is no way it gets better from that, is what she thinks to herself, only to be shut up immediately after when she sees that perfectness of your back stay as you bend over and shift onto both knees to grab something far away, bringing your shorts in view. So short— so tight , they could easily be mistaken for panties.

It was unexpected to say the least, Ellie could feel her face heating up and had to look around her to see if anyone else could see what she was seeing right now. Ellie wondered about the practicality of those shorts, wondered what exactly they were supposed to cover, leering at the plush of your ass peeking out. She thoughtlessly lets her jaw drop before muttering out a low, impressed, and barely over a whisper, “Well, fuck.”

You must’ve noticed your shorts riding up, since you quickly pulled them down after you grabbed what you wanted. Ellie clears her throat, internally scolding herself for being so gross— so perverted. Her brows furrow in embarrassment from all the dirty thoughts she brewed up in that moment. But for some reason, she still doesn’t look away. Well, there’s a list of reasons for her to look away, but she feels like ignoring it.

Then a cold gust of wind bites past her face, clearly a sign from the universe that she should snap out of it, and snap out of it she does.

What the hell happened to her? What is it about you that she keeps leaning into? Suddenly something clicks in her brain. After months of creative agony, something finally clicked. She has sat here completely fascinated by you and she couldn’t tell sooner?

In all honesty, to say she is just “interested” in you would be an understatement. Yeah, now she thinks you’re the perfect model for her final, but she wants to know you beyond just the drawing. A plus is that you just happened to be hot, and Ellie has never been attracted to a subject before, so the whole thing was new and exciting to her. Just the thought of drawing you made her remember why she loved art so much. Ellie reaches for her tote bag sitting in an empty seat beside her, pulling out her sketchbook with more enthusiasm than she probably ever has. She sets the book down, opening up a blank page with one hand and tightening her grip on her pencil in the other.

She looks back up at your window, ready to sketch your life onto paper and.. Shit. You’re looking back.

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Today has been a good day for you, your teacher chose you to teach the choreo you’ve been working on for weeks to your classmates. It was an obvious ego booster for you. You felt good and you wanted to look good too, even if you weren’t going out anywhere. It was just one of those nights. You wanted to experiment with your hair, thinking maybe you’ll do something new before your next practice. Dye it, cut it.. something.

It’s been a while since you started, and after several wrist and shoulder cramps, you were finally finished. You take a look into your hand mirror, peering at your reflection. You’re satisfied now, looking exactly how you’re feeling if you minus the dingy sleep clothes you’re in.

♫ My heart, I never be, I never see, I never know. ♫

Grimes? Really? You pout, upset that your playlist didn’t magically read your mood. What you need is real 2000’s hot girl music. Britney Spears, Nelly Furtado, or Beyoncé for crying out loud.

“Alexa, skip!” You shout across the room, just loud enough for the device to hear.

The stupid thing doesn’t even light up, so you call out a few more times but to no avail. Isn’t the whole point of that thing to be voice automated? You sigh and look around for your phone, and seeing it’s nowhere in front of you, you figure it’s behind. You twist your torso to find your phone behind you and luckily you do. As you pick it up, you casually glance out the window without any expectations.

Did you see a figure in the blur as you looked away? You question your eyes, but you decide to take another look and just find out for yourself.

You peer back down and your eyes meet with someone else’s. The sudden eye contact between you and this woman instantly mortified you. Your heart sunk, and all you could do was raise your brows stupidly. She was surprised too, even in the dim light you could see her shocked expression boring back at you. Not only that, it went on for way longer than it should have. Any normal person would’ve looked away, but her eyes lingered on you before she hastily turned away.

You’ve been sitting here, dressing up your hair, listening to your music without a care in the world. Far too absorbed in yourself to realize there’s someone outside your window. You slide off your windowsill and out of sight. Just as your bottom finally hits the wood floor, you feel the coldness of it against your skin and you’re immediately conscious of the fact that your ass was literally out at some point.

The poor girl was trying to eat her food and you were bending over in front of your window like a harlot. It certainly didn’t help that she looked kinda hot. Did she? You peeked over your windowsill, hoping to get another look to really assess her hotness, but she was already gone. Whatever, maybe she didn’t see? But she looked embarrassed… embarrassed for you probably!

You hide your face in your hands and topple to the side, letting out a fake sob. Oh, god. You can already imagine Dina’s face when you tell her. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing at that thought. That was humiliating as shit, but it’s whatever. It’s not like you’ll see her again.

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side note: if you have any tropes you'd like to see w/ this universe pls do drop an ask 🤭

click 4 more!

#ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie the last of us #tlou2 #ellie williams x reader #the last of us part 2 #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #lesbian #ᝰ like a french girl

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vxiphoid · 10 months

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EXIXIR OF EMOTIONS

❨ summary ❩ genshin › more than friends? moments. is he feeling too much or too little?

tags ✧ gn!reader, fluff, modern au (?), friends to lovers, y’all are dorks, the sweetest of feelings.

amanuensis’ message ⊹ y’all are not just friends babes, smooch.

⌜ O.7+ ⌟

♫ lover boy - phum viphurit

genshin masterlist

CUDDLING.

“you’ll put me to sleep at this rate.”

“its not like i’m going anywhere anytime soon. i like you here, in this moment. just sleep.”

— there’s absolutely nothing better than hearing your beating heart while he rests over you. no better feeling than your hands carding through his hair, braiding a few small pieces he was sure not to remove. he listens to your absentminded humming, your muted whispers about how soft his hair is, and the delighted thrum of your heart. his hand finds your unoccupied one and you were quick to interlock fingers, a reassuring squeeze following shortly after. maybe a small nap wouldn’t be so bad, little did he know you weren’t that far behind him.

AETHER, kaveh, WANDERER, zhongli, shikanoin heizou, BAIZHU, ayato, gorou, venti.

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LATE NIGHT TALKS.

u up? ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀2:23 am (read)

been up ever since i heard your ringtone, are you alright? ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ 2:23 am (read)

— you have a different ringtone from everyone else in his contacts for times like this. honestly, it doesn’t matter if you want to rant, call, or even plan something like going for a walk, his answer will always be yes. its the yearning need to hear you laugh over the phone, even if he did see you three hours ago. babble on about the first thing that comes to your mind, watching you light up as you spoke. he’s sure he has heart eyes as his pupils as he takes you in for the umpteenth time tonight.

XIAO, DILUC, childe, kaedehara kazuha, shikanoin heizou.

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LISTENING TO HIM GEEK OUT.

“sorry, i’m talking your ear off.”

“no, keep talking. i love your voice. what happened then?”

— its the complete adoration and love swirling in your eyes that makes him lose his train of thought. he notices when he turns to see if you’re still following, the smile adorning your face spreads wider under his gaze. what are you trying to do? give him a heart attack? don’t look at him like that (please do, he’s literally in shambles.) you’re so willing to listen to him even when you dont understand the topic. give me a night, ill have it all memorized and we can talk about it together, you’d say. how could you be so perfect?

ITTO, KAEYA, thoma, ALHAITHAM, tighnari, CYNO.

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D.I.YING CLOTHES TOGETHER.

“and then the needle goes through here…”

“please don’t poke yourself—”

— you texted him about some moss embroidery on a sweater you had saw on pinterest and he was already on his way to pick you up and run to the nearest store for yarn and string. he found two old similar sweaters in the depths of his drawers and you were quick to get to work. he could barely pay attention to his own stuff because your shoulder kept brushing his… by the end of it, made with your hello kitty bandaged fingers, on the very end of his sleeve was his own embroidered moss and your initial.

AETHER, BAIZHU, albedo, VENTI, kaveh, zhongli.

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DANCING TOGETHER.

“no but, what if i fall? that would be embarrassing.”

“i would catch you. always.”

— having his hand interlocked with yours has never felt so faultless, he’s been close but never this close. the amount of times he’s wanted to play with your hands but refuse because of the fear of making you uncomfortable yet you seemed so at ease grabbing his hands to mess with his knuckles at any given time. your hand that was splayed out on his chest traced little hearts into the fabric while you studied his face. for a second, he swore you leaned in.. that was until you stumbled on his foot. instincts kicked in quicker than he could react, tugging you flush against him. well that was embarrassing… even then, both your laughter, firstly stiffed, echoed throughout the atmosphere.

ALHAITHAM, ayato, DAINSLEIF, tighnari, KAEYA, THOMA.

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KISSING HIS SCARS.

“why do you do this?”

“i want you to know i accept every part of you.”

— weither that be his hands, his arms, back, neck, waist, there’s no place that your lips don’t leave a tingling feeling upon his skin. it’s how you say hello, its how you say goodbye, it’s so frequent he finds himself counting the mere seconds of the intimate interaction. how you lingered for a second longer one day or a second less the next. you’ve found scars on him where he didn’t even know he had-including the invisible scar you insisted he had on the corner of his mouth that you’d pecked last.

AETHER, albedo, childe, CYNO, dainsleif, DILUC, gorou, itto, KAEDEHARA KAZUHA, XIAO, WANDERER.

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somerandomdere · 6 days

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Yandere! actor x crew member! g/n reader

tags: fluff, slight? yandere themes (duh), you can tell I don't know much about how hollywood scandal works, it's my first fic pls feedback

Fame was everything to Gabriel, it's been his whole life. He was a nepo baby, he has seen the cameras the moment he was born. Blessed with a good face, filthy rich parents, and a flirtatious personality, he was everything ladies wanted in a man.

Until everything came crashing down.

He got into a huge scandal he wasn't even aware of. He was accused of sexually harassing a fellow co actress, when in fact he never laid a finger on her. Sure, he was a well known celebrity and has a history of sleeping around, but that doesn't mean he will force himself on someone without consent!

The scandal got so big he was defamed everywhere. His sponsors withdrew, his parents and friends wanted to cut ties with him, and his girlfriend cussed him out before leaving.

It wasn't him! But at this point, no one believed in him. He started being depressed, having suicidal thoughts, and contemplating on quitting his dream career.

Enter you. Beautiful, radiant you.

After a long day of carrying heavy sets and helping out around the set. You were exhausted, so you went out to breathe some fresh air and smoke. As you lit up your cigarette, the main actor of your current show, Gabriel, seemed to be crying. You wanted to smoke, but you couldn't just leave a crying man alone! and you did want some privacy while taking a puff

"Hey... you alright?" You genuinely asked.

You didn't know much about Gabriel's scandal, since you weren't very interested in the affairs of celebrities and thought that fans should just mind their own business.

And you were just here to make extra money, what's the worst that could happen? You'll be gone in no time anyways. He'll just quickly forget you.

"Hey um..." You started awkwardly, and cleared your throat. "I may not be the best person that can comfort, but you can talk to me. I'll listen."

You thought he would be suspicious of you, because of his celebrity status, but he ranted to you and cried. How he was misunderstood. How the people closest to him never believed in him. How he felt so hopeless after he lost everything.

You reached out to touch his hand. You let him know you understood. How painful this period of life will be and how it will all be fine after.

You told him to take a look around him. Look through a different scope, see the people who actually cares for him. You told him how your uncle never believed any of those rumors and took advantage of this to hire him.

He teared up, not from self pity this time, but from realisation. Maybe he should abandon those people who never saw his true self anyways. For the first time, he looked into your eyes. The sunlight danced over your eyes, it reminded him of the warmth his parents used to give him, before they got too busy.

Maybe that's when he fell for you. He couldn't really point out when he fell head over heels, but he can kinda figure he feelings sprouted here.

He came back, stronger than ever. His acting caused your uncle's movie grossing to skyrocket. It hit the box office, everyone was talking about his movie through social media, how he so accurately acted his role, to the point they shivered. He decided to take this opportunity to clear his name. Due to the how overwhelmingly successful his new movie was, people decided to believe him.

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

"Y/N! My name was cleared!" He squealed into the phone. You sincerely felt happy for him and offered to celebrate with him.

He wouldn't let this opportunity go without a waste! He immediately said yes. He wanted to see your beautiful face again, and finally ask you out.

He will finally be yours, and you will finally be his.

@hana-no-seiiki

@lovverletters

@moyazaika

@yxami

@mightypossibly

@suiana

My inspos on how to write fics (and my fav fic writers!) PLS PLS PLS PLS GIVE ME FEEDBACKKK

#male yandere #male yandere cafe #yandere actor #gn reader #yandere celebrity x gn reader #first post #idk what else to tag #i'm actually shaking

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nereidprinc3ss · 4 months

Note

hii! could i request something w spence where he asks uni reader to move in with him and r is kinda nervous about it please🙏🙏 love all of ur fics, and thanksss 🫶🫶🫶

yass this is super cute!!!! thank you for the request, hope i did it justice

warnings/tags: fluff!! a teensy bit suggestive at the end if u squint... i cant help myself. i'm an animal

requests are open! sfw and nsfw welcome

(a/n: this is probably an awkward spot to put this but I didn't wanna make a whole other post: THANK YOU GUYS FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT!!! i have gained over 100 followers since i last posted and have over 1k notes on both of my recent works thats literally bonkers insane crazy town ACTUALLY. i love hearing your thoughts and reactions to my work even if its just a silly little comment. so yeah. thanks and so much love to u ALL)

“So basically, I’m not allowed in the dorm except to sleep because she always has her boyfriend over, and I told her that’s literally insane—I’m paying thousands of dollars to be there just like her. If she wanted privacy she should have gotten a single. She can’t just lock me out of our shared bedroom all the time! I live there!”

You’re stabbing violently at your food by the time you finish your verbal tirade.

“Okay, maybe put the knife down before you hurt yourself,” Spencer suggests, readying a hand to take the implement away from you if necessary. The knife clatters against your plate as you drop it.

“She’s driving me fucking crazy,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes until you see fireworks. “And the housing department said I don’t have grounds to transfer rooms, so I’m stuck with her for the rest of the year.”

There’s no reply from your boyfriend, and a pang of guilt in your chest makes you look up at him again. His expression, as so often is the case, is inscrutable.

“I’m sorry for ranting. I’m really happy to see you and I don’t mean to ruin dinner, I just—”

“You could stay with me,” he interrupts.

You blink.

“Like... when she locks me out?”

Spencer laughs self-consciously.

“No, like... permanently.”

For a moment you just gape at him like an idiot, trying to comprehend his offer.

He wants you to move in... with him. Permanently. He wants to live with you.

You realize you’ve been staring at him for far too long, and you lean back, inhaling deeply as the world launches into motion again.

“That’s... a big step, Spence,” you breathe. His eyes scan you head to toe, and you realize he’s most definitely analyzing your body language.

“You don’t have to say yes. It was just an offer,” he shrugs, standing up and clearing the plates from the table.

“Wait,” you call, following him to the kitchen. “Are you upset now because I leaned away from you when you asked?”

He turns from the counter, looking at you blankly.

“Of course not. That would be ridiculous.”

Oh, he totally is.

You tentatively step forward, gently lacing your fingers through his—but unable to meet his eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you begin gingerly, “but I’m... I’m not done with school. We always said I would move in once I graduated.”

“That’s an arbitrary limitation we set for ourselves. There are plenty of ways to get you from here to campus every day.”

“But you’re not even here sometimes. I would just be alone.”

“You would have the whole apartment to yourself. You would have my bed. You wouldn’t have to share a shower with an entire floor of college students anymore. And ultimately, we would get to spend a lot more time together.”

You try to speak but find your throat is tight. Spending more time together is exactly what you’re afraid of.

“What’s your real objection here?” he asks quietly, running his thumb back and forth over the underside of your wrist. You swallow, watching the motion of his hand.

“I’m afraid, that if we move in together... you’ll stop liking me.” The words come out paper thin, barely audible.

And he laughs. Your teary eyes dart up, surprised by the reaction—slightly hurt, even.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m not laughing at you,” Spencer says, sobering up when he sees your baleful expression. “I just can’t believe you think I’d stop liking you.” He wipes away the tears beading on your eyelashes delicately. “I’m in love with you. Neurologically that is pretty hard to undo.”

You study his face, looking for any sign of hesitation or dishonesty. All you find is pure fondness in the curve of his lips; utter devotion in the soft set of his eyes.

“You promise you won’t start hating me as soon as I move in?”

“I promise.”

You lean against his chest, craning your neck to look up at him.

“I can be pretty annoying.”

“I think I can handle it.”

“I take really long showers.”

He kisses you softly. “Me too. I’m sure we can figure out a way to conserve water.”

Despite your reservations you smile against his lips.

“Okay?” he asks.

“Okay.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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chunksworld · 11 months

Text

A Helping Hand

ITZY Yuna x Male Reader | (Tags: Smut)

A/N: Damn I've been so down bad for her lately. Thanks @kaedespicelatte as always for beta reading.

————————

Clank. Clank. Clank.

Missed shots after missed shots—some of them aren’t even hitting the rim, that’s how bad it’s gotten. It’s safe to say that basketball practice isn’t going particularly well for you. You’ve had to resort to either passing the ball in the perimeter or going for a layup instead, which makes you easier to defend against. And it’s not like you were making your shots in shootaround either, the rim could probably be as wide as the ocean and you would still somehow miss it. It’s as if you forgot the fundamentals of the sport you grew to love and dedicate your life towards.

Nothing frustrates you more than when your shots aren’t falling. You’re a basketball player after all—well to be more exact, you are the school’s star basketball player and the team captain. Your teammates look up at you for inspiration and to lead them to victory every single game. Sure it’s just practice, but you didn’t get this far by slacking off and you want to lead by example. No one criticizes you more than your own self and perhaps it’s that double-edged sword that has led you to become so hard on yourself. It’s a trait that has led you to success but at times like this, you are your own worst enemy.

You make brief eye contact with your coach and the look of disappointment he gives you is so gut wrenching, his hands on his hips and his eyebrows furrowed. You can already hear the rant he’s about to give once scrimmage is over, he’s not exactly a player’s coach and just because you’re the star player does not mean that he’s going to be nicer to you—in fact, it’s the opposite. You’ve gotten yelled at in front of your teammates so many times that you’ve become numb to it. He wants the best from you as much as you want the best from yourself but his yelling is what you didn’t wanna hear at this very moment. All you want to do is get some rest and perhaps sleep it off.

“Cut! Cut!”

Coach yells and you’re scrambling to remember how to defend the play. He introduced it earlier during this practice but it obviously never stuck with you. You’re so distracted trying to remember m that you didn’t even realize that you’ve blown your defensive assignment as your opponent drives past you to receive the pass for an easy layup, following the coach’s instructions perfectly and you’ve absolutely lost it. It’s one thing to not make shots but it’s even worse that you can’t even defend properly. You might as well be a drill come out there. Enough is enough.

“Fuck!”

The expletive rings throughout the gym, much louder than you’ve anticipated and your coach blows the whistle. Your teammates can only look at you in pity, they know how frustrating it is to be in your situation plus the wrath you’re about to receive is not going to be pretty. You stop in your tracks and pant heavily, sweat dripping down your face as the intensity of the scrimmage takes over you. Silence, except for your teammates also trying to catch their breath. Your coach then takes a slow walk towards you with his clipboard in hand and you are already bracing your eardrums for the berating but then signals all of the players to leave for the day and walks up to you with his clipboard in hand. Huh, guess he’s sparing you the embarrassment for today. He probably already knows that you’ve embarrassed yourself enough already.

“Listen, I don’t know if you woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning but I’m not having this okay? We’ve got a game later today and I need you to be completely focused and locked in. You’re not leaving this gym until you’ve made 100 threes in a row, got it?”

Somehow, that’s a better punishment than being yelled at in front of your teammates. You look pathetic as it is for their team captain and that would’ve made it worse. Maybe it was the prospect of getting yelled at but suddenly your shots were falling again, and it’s a great thing that it was a morning practice because it still took you five hours to make that many threes in a row. You were pretty sure that more threes than you’ve ever made in your entire career but it was all worth it. You were completely drained and exhausted and all you wanted to do was pass out. You found yourself laying on the hardwood floor and looking up on the banners, some of them you’ve helped raise in the rafters. It would be nice to ad—

“Tough practice, huh? Coach Lee looked like he was gonna knock your head off.” A familiar voice echoes throughout the empty gym. It’s the sound of a woman nonetheless and you’re damn sure that you must be hallucinating with how completely tired you are but that was immediately debunked the moment a basketball landed on your face. You look up and that signature bunny smile is enough to send your heart running throughout this facility. What the hell is she doing here? She’s never been here, hell does she even know what basketball is?

Shin Yuna. The school’s most popular student and the president of the student council—rumors has it that she’s turned down a record 200 male students during her time here so far (you can confirm at least 19 of those male students because everyone of your teammates have asked her out already). And it’s as clear as the bright blue skies as to why she’s highly sought after; insanely smart, stunning visuals, and an amazing body to go along with it (you definitely have not been taking notice of the last part, absolutely not). Plus, you see her face everywhere. There’s 100 clubs to join in this campus and she’s the leader for a handful of them. “Fuck me, did he broadcast to the entire school how shitty I was today?”

You lay back down on the hardwood floor, probably not good advice because your jersey is now completely dirty. But that’s the least of your concerns at this very moment. Yuna continues walking towards you, the heel of her boots making a resounding noise with each and every step. “No he didn’t, but I was running some errands and I wanted to stop by to check how our basketball team is doing and….” She sits down beside you, clearly she doesn’t care that her clothes are going to be dirty either.

“And you saw me being absolutely shit at the sport I’m supposed to be good at. Great.” What horrible timing, the student council president rarely visits and she just had to choose the worst day possible. You just want to bury a hole and dig yourself.

And Yuna is either terrible at reading people’s emotions or she doesn’t care at all because her response was a smile as she sits closer to you, as if she’s shrugging off everything you just said. Can this day get any worse? “Well, everyone has bad days don’t they? I’m sure that LeBron Jordan guy had some bad shooting days as well.” Never mind, guess she has great intentions after all.

“Touché. But we have a game later so I need to figure the fuck out how to play again so will you be of any help, miss student council president?” You must have said something right because her face lights up like a light bulb. And you can only hope that whatever she does have in mind is actually going to be helpful.

“Well that can’t be good….” Her fingers trace your biceps, “As the president of the student council it’s my duty to ensure that our school’s star athlete can de-stress before the game right?” You’re only half focusing on her words at this very moment, her scalding touch the only thing occupying your mind as she continues to caress your arms.

Like a true basketball star, you’re figuring out her next play though like a simple pick and roll, it’s easy to decipher. You decide to let it play out anyways. “What are you trying to say?”

“How about……” Her fingers now reach for your face, her own visage now dangerously close to yours, “…I lend you a helping hand, how does that sound?”

As expected, it was the perfect read all along. The moment her lips mesh with yours and you could already feel all of this morning’s stress start to dissipate. You didn’t even hesitate to think about the potential repercussions, of the fact that two of the most influential figures on campus are about to engage in acts not appropriate for such a setting. Not when you feel how perfect her soft lips are on yours, clouding your judgment and throwing any sense of rationality out of the window. Your teammates would surely kill you if they found out that out of everyone on the team, it was you that’s getting such an opportunity with Yuna.

They’d surely be jealous because you’re the one viewing her beautiful features up close, not them. You’re the one caressing her curves and every other part of her heavenly body that have made her the wet dreams of every male student on campus. That you’re the one eliciting such lustful and throaty moans out of her as your lips trail down to her neck, your hands reaching out to her clothed busts to give them a gentle squeeze. It sounds so hot, Yuna sounds so fucking hot. And it’s a good thing that you’re wearing your basketball shorts and not your regular pants because you would definitely be in much more pain now with how hard you are.

“Fuck, a little stress relief is what I need as well….”

But it gets even worse the moment she straddles your lap, landing perfectly on the tent forming on your shorts and you inadvertently groan at the immense pleasure. She reverts back to kissing you before you could even muster up a verbal response, a more aggressive lip lock this time with tongues involved as she slowly starts to grind on you. You could feel how wet she is under that skirt and your mind is already racing with the plenty of ways you want to take advantage of this opportunity. As much as you don’t want to stop kissing her, you don’t want it to stop at just this so you grab at the hem of your jersey but before you could remove it, she breaks away from the kiss. It’s only first base and yet she’s already ruined and so fucking pretty as always. “Is there a more private place?”

Of course there is. You grabbed her by the hand and dragged her towards the empty locker room. As soon as the door is shut, you grab her by the waist and bring her to your lap again as you sit on the bench and resume your kissing. Busy hands immediately go to work trying to remove each other’s clothing. She gets rid of your jersey with ease while you have to work with removing her tie and lifting the blue top over her head; her bra coming off right after. Your mouth salivates at the sight of her perfectly shaped tits, round, petite, and nipples begging to be sucked. But as you were mere inches away, she got off of you to remove her skirt and panties (which were drenched as you predicted. You do the same with your shorts and boxers, throwing them to the side. Both of your shoes come flying off as well.

You’re both finally fully naked. Your cock twitching as precum oozes from the tip due to intense arousal, there in front of you lies a naked Yuna. Whereas other guys have to imagine what she looks like, you could actually view her in this state. A gorgeous face paired with a body sculpted by the gods themselves, curves that can only be compared to that of an hourglass, her clean shaven pussy, her inner thighs already drenched, and those legs that you just want wrapped around you. But with how she’s biting and licking her lips, you’re not the only one completely turned on. “You can take a picture of me to jack off to later, but I want you to fuck me now please.”

And who are you to turn down such a request? She mounts you once again, this time making sure to aim her opening at your tip. You both moan at the first contact, electricity surging through your bodies but you fight through it. You bring her lips to yours, arms wrapped around her body as you aid her in completely taking you inside her. “A-Ahhh fucc-k!” Her nails immediately dig into your shoulder and back as she pulls away from the kiss. Yuna is tight, so amazingly and mind-blowingly tight despite how wet she is. And it doesn’t seem like she’s a virgin either because she seems like she knows what she’s doing. You, on the other hand, haven’t had sex in ages and yet your carnal desire for her is what’s driving you. “So fucking b-big!”

“And you’re so tight….shit.”

Eventually, she's able to take your length all the way inside her. But with how tight she is, you will definitely rearrange her guts by the time you two are finished. That’s the least of your concerns right now, however. as she begins to roll her hips. The pleasure is overwhelming and the effects of not having any intercourse in quite a while is starting to rear its ugly head as every single movement of her hips is driving you crazy. You pull her even closer to you, causing her to squeal as no inch of space is left between the two of you. Once you are able to overcome the initial onslaught of pleasure, you begin to thrust up inside her as well. And this causes Yuna to wrap her long, luscious legs around you as her nails leave scratch marks on your back and shoulders. “F-Fuck me hard just like that, please!” Her moans are a beautiful symphony of curses, inaudible phrases, and your name uttered in the sexiest way possible. You would gladly listen to it until the day you die. Maybe you could have her relieve your stress all the time if this is what you get at the end.

And you would kiss her to prevent anyone from hearing her moans but the place is empty so it’d be useless so instead you do what you’ve been dying to do ever since earlier, and that’s to taste her breasts. It doesn’t help that they jiggle deliciously in front of you as every thrust of your hips meet her bounces. You dive down and capture them with your lips, focusing on her left breast first and licking the stiff, brown nipple with your tongue. Her whimpers only serve as encouragement, switching to the right nipple and giving it the same treatment that it deserves. Your fingers, on the other hand, are carefully massaging her saliva-drenched left breast. You repeat this over and over, making sure they get enough appreciation from you. She stops grinding her hips at some point because of the immense pleasure and you paused your thrusting as well, and if she didn’t grab you by the chin for a kiss you wouldn’t have noticed as well.

A deep, passionate makeout then ensues as she starts to grind her hips again, her hands pushing your face further towards hers into a sloppy serenade of pure unadulterated need towards each other. A string of saliva follows as you both pull away from oxygen, the lust in her eyes only strengthening with time. “Don’t lie, you’ve been dreaming of sucking my tits don’t you?” The remark catches you off guard and makes you laugh. The answer is obvious, if she wants to hear it then you’ll gladly tell her.

“Fucking hell Yuna, I don’t think there’s any guy out there that doesn’t.” Hell, you want to suck them again at this very moment but you don’t want to be selfish. She also has her needs after all.

The grinding of her hips turns into bouncing again, and the slapping of skin on skin begins to reverberate in the empty locker room. “Exactly. S-So take advantage of this opportunity—shit—and give me your all.” You don’t want to be told twice; you bury your face on her chest as you thrust up at a frantic pace. Her moans only get louder as you piston your cock inside her pussy—that’s still so amazingly tight—relentlessly, making sure that they’ll mold to your shape. Soon, those moans turn into whimpers as she rests her chin on your shoulders and her hot breath going directly through your ears as she continuously whispers sweet nothings—completely delirious from how good of a fucking she’s receiving from you. It’s so pure, it’s so carnal, and it’s so fucking hot the way your moans combine with the slapping of wet skin and the squelches of her pussy as you continue to pound up into her.

But you two are humans after all and can only receive and give so much pleasure, and it doesn’t really take long for Yuna to completely unravel—only three more minutes to be exact. You could already feel it with how much tighter she’s gotten, so tight that you might just reach your orgasm the same time as her. It takes you gritting your teeth and closing your eyes because looking at her pleasure-stricken face with her tongue sticking out and eyes rolled to the back of her head along with her unreal visuals is going to completely cause you to become undone. “Fuck, baby I’m gonna come please. Make me come, fuck me just like that I’m so fucking close….” But you’d rather attack her neck with kisses and bites anyways, the combined smell of her sweat and lavender perfume only driving you crazier and crazier. Like a mantra, she repeats her wish along with incoherent whispers but it’s at a particularly rough thrust as she comes down hard in your lap that sets off the explosions.

“FFUCKK!”

It’s so fucking hot. The way her nails cling to your back, now probably leaving scratches that will surely take weeks to disappear. The way her luscious thighs constrict your waist. The way she grabs onto your face and pulls you towards her for a kiss. It’s all too overwhelming and it takes every single fiber of your being not to join her as her hot and tight walls attempt to squeeze you for all the cum you have, and you just might. Her juices immediately flood both of your crotches as her orgasm completely overrides her, taking a few minutes to subside as you continue to thrust your hips up to her at a slower and gentle pace. She doesn’t stop grinding her hips either, her moans now turning into whimpers while she continues to make-out with you, and with everything that’s already happened you know you’re not too far away from joining her. Yuna pulls away from the kiss and she whispers the words you’ve been dying to hear, her eyes filled with cock-filled lust in the aftermath of her post-orgasm haze. “Fucking cum in me.”

You’re embarrassed the way it immediately turns you on, as if a switch is flipped inside your brain that wants one thing and one thing only: Yuna. So with the remaining strength you have, you place your hands underneath her thighs and made sure that she’s wrapped tightly around you before standing up to effectively fuck her in stand and carry. The new position has her screaming and yelling as gravity aids in impaling her into your shaft, your cock now reaching places inside her that you couldn’t do so earlier. You bounce her on your length before walking over to your locker and pressing her back onto the cold surface, making her shiver. With support, you continue to thrust into her at an unrelenting pace and due to the sensitivity from her orgasm, it doesn’t take too long for her to come undone once again. You must’ve discovered a specific bundle of nerves inside her because she bites into your shoulder with a scream and begging you to fuck her hard once again, every thrust has her wrapping her arms around tour neck tighter and the feeling of such a perfect body like hers against yours is truly mindblowing.

She’s completely rag-dolled into your arms at this point and it only took a few more thrusts before she lost herself. The sight is perfect and unsullied, not even the most expensive paintings in the world could rival her face at this very moment. It’s all beautiful and lewd at the same time. It’s an orgasm that’s somehow even stronger than her first one. “S-So fucking good!” Yuna’s juices immediately start to flood your length and drip down to the floor below; the added lubrication now making it easier to thrust in and out of her and she must’ve noticed how much your cock has been twitching ever since her orgasm because she doesn’t stop bouncing on your cock despite her sensitivity, in fact she’s working twice as hard. No words exchanged for a while as she’s still trying to recover from the intensity of her orgasm while you’ve been rendered speechless by how intense your orgasm is going to be as well. Instead she kisses you as a way of showing thanks, nibbling and pulling on your lower lip as you let her do all the work. It doesn’t take long for you to feel that bubbling sensation in your stomach and you have to inform her sooner or later so you pull away from the kiss but it seems like she already knows.

“Y-Yuna, where—“

She gives you a nod, then a peck on the lips. Her eyes are once again filled with lust and that’s the only green light you need. “It’s been a while since I’ve been fucked like that so it’s only right for me to return the favor. I want your cum inside me please.” Such words have never been more enticing and seducing. With a loud groan, the first shot of cum is emptied into Yuna’s freshly fucked pussy. And then some more; each thrust of your hips delivers a shot of cum fucked deep into her needy womb. Each thrust makes all of the stress and anguish of today go away. You can’t count how many shots you’ve unloaded but it’s enough to stain your balls and flood the gaps between where your cock and her pussy meet—all of it dripping down onto the floor below. Another makeout session ensues, your tongues lazily dancing with one another as you continue to thrust your cock inside her to make sure no drop of cum is wasted. But it really doesn’t matter because a copious amount of semen drips out of her pussy the moment you pull out, and you’re completely shocked by how much you filled her. It’s truly a testament to how good she fucked you.

“Shit. Yuna, I–”

Yuna interrupts you with a kiss. “It’s fine, I wanted your cum and I got it. And it looks like you were really stressed.” She points towards the pool of cum on the floor, weeks worth deposited inside her and you can’t help but be embarrassed. “Either that or I really turned you on.” Heat rises up to your cheeks and you want to dig up a hole and bury yourself in it once again. There’s no denying that she didn’t; she’s definitely the best woman you’ve ever had sex with and it doesn’t even come close. And the sight of her post-sex is only making you want to fuck her again—her inner thighs glazed with your cum, her perfect body covered with sweat, and her face looking thoroughly fucked. Your cock twitches at the sight and she smirks, walking over to you and slowly wrapping her fingers around your length and pumping it at a leisurely pace.

“Hmm. Looks like you’re still hard for me, how about I fix that?” It truly must be your lucky day today because she dragged you to the showers and quickly got on her knees, taking your length inside her mouth and effectively cleaned both of your juices off of it with her skillful tongue. Despite already one orgasm down the drain, the opportunity to paint her face with your cum is the only thing you need to get going again. Yuna continues to bob her head up and down your cock, her hands massaging your balls as if to make sure to receive your full load again. Your groans and the lewd sound of her mouth overpowers the sound of the intense water pressure of the shower. And with how turned on you’ve been, it doesn’t take too long before you unload spurts after spurts of cum on her face. She looks so damn beautiful, yet so ruined at the same time. “We taste so good together, we should do this more often…”

Thankfully the rest of the shower time was actually used to clean up and ten minutes later, you two are dressed up again as if nothing happened. “Good luck out there, champ. I’ll be cheering for you.” Yuna gives you one final kiss, giving you an extra boost as if you weren’t motivated enough already. Then she flashes her signature wide smile that has caused hundreds of men to fall in love with her, and you’re about to be added on to that list. Fucking hell.

“Here’s my number by the way. Feel free to stop by my dorm once you guys win, your student council president will have a special prize for you.”

#itzy smut #yuna smut #shin yuna smut #male reader #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #reader insert #smut

1K notes · View notes

daisynik7 · 1 year

Text

Business Trip

husband!Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.7k

Summary: Nanami hates going on business trips now that he has you in his life. Even with food and hotel expenses paid for by his company, it’s not enough to distract him from the fact that he misses you. The two of you have the perfect solution for this, which includes a vivid imagination and the help of a little, but mighty, toy. cw: sex-toy use (vibrator), phone sex, explicit sexual content, language, Nanami is a bit mean, dirty talk, use of pet-names (honey, sweetie, princess), reader is called whore and slut (endearing lol), just pure nasty smut. Author’s Notes: More husband!Nanami smut! I was inspired to write this because I just purchased my very first vibe two weeks ago and boy, is it something. Hope you like this filth! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated! Thanks for reading! Divider credits to @/cafekitsune! Tagging the lovely @liliorsstuff-blog bc I love her and Nanami is her husband. 😉

Nanami has a hard time when he has to go out of town for a business trip. He never used to mind it before; in fact, he liked being sent away to a different city every once in a while, especially when the food and hotel expenses were paid for. However, ever since the two of you have been together, he dreads them because it means time away from you. And he hates being apart from you. Absolutely hates it. And to be honest, you hate it too.

This time, he’s sent to Osaka for a convention, staying at a swanky hotel covered by his company. He takes full advantage of this, ordering room service, indulging in a bottle or two of liquor from the mini bar. He even wraps himself in a fluffy robe after showering, sitting in bed with hair still wet at the tips. A single tap of his phone and he’s calling you, waiting a single ring for you to pick up. “Hi baby!” you answer, his mood instantly lifted at the sound of your cheery voice.

“How are you, princess?”

“Good. Just in our room now. How was your day?”

He spends the next several minutes recounting today’s festivities, including a funny story about him sneaking a second complimentary bento for lunch. You rant to him about your coworkers’ petty drama involving missing office supplies and stolen meals from the fridge. You both share what you ate for dinner, you complimenting the picture he sent earlier of the full spread ordered through room service. He sends you a quick snapshot of his current view of his hotel room, including his bare feet sticking out from under the robe.

“Your room is so nice. Look at your toes!” you laugh. “Are you going to sleep soon?”

“Not yet. Still waiting for my hair to dry.” He pauses, contemplating for a split second before asking, “Are you in bed now?”

“Yup, all snuggled under the covers.”

He smiles to himself, picturing you cocooned in the thick comforter the two of you share, curled to the right side of the bed where you usually sleep. “Do you miss me?”

“Of course I do. I miss you so much.”

Without thinking, he spreads his legs wider, getting more comfortable against the pillows. “I miss you too, princess. I wish I was there with you right now.”

“Me too.”

There’s a moment of silence, tension hanging heavy in the static noise between you. Nanami decides to stop beating around the bush. It’s obvious what you both want. You’ve been married long enough, together even longer, there’s no shame or secrets anymore. “Wish I could fuck you right now,” he confesses.

You moan through the speaker, thighs splayed, reaching towards your pussy. Tonight, you’re wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, his scent lingering on the fabric, making you feel safe and secure in his absence. You sink into the cushions, whispering a breathy, “Baby.”

“Tell me what you’re wearing right now.”

“Just your t-shirt and my underwear.”

“Oh yeah? One of your silky ones?”

You hum, confirming his suspicions as he loosens the knot of his robe, folding back the cotton to expose his hardening cock. “God, I bet you look so good right now.”

You giggle softly, lifting the hem of the shirt past your stomach, fingers brushing your skin delicately, imagining his instead.

His voice is low, thick with lust. “I want to hear you come. Can you do that for me?”

“Mm-hm,” you respond, slipping underneath the waistband, teasing your clit with the pad of your middle finger.

He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, already knowing what you’re doing. “Not with your fingers, honey. Use the vibrator, remember?”

A whine escapes your mouth while you reach for the drawer to retrieve the small toy, the one you bought recently to supplement nights alone like this. He was the first to test it out on you, though. Made sure it was good enough to satisfy your needs. The recent memory of him pressing the fluttering tip to your clit, pumping wet fingers in and out of your cunt, has you throbbing.

You push your panties past your knees, sliding them off completely at your ankles. With the blanket hastily stripped from your body, you spread your thighs wide, completely exposed from the waist down. A small bead of lube is just enough to get it slick. You rub the oiled tip up and down your pussy, finger on the button, anticipating the intense sensation.

“Don’t turn it on yet,” he demands. He wraps his hands around the base of his cock, slow strokes to start. “Tease it a little bit. Just like I do it.”

Your husband always likes to take his time with you, no matter how desperate and aching for him you are. And when you’re two hundred plus miles away from each other, you predict he’s going to draw this out as long as he possibly can, both for his pleasure and yours. Not that you’re complaining.

You play with your clit, tingling bud pulsing against the smooth exterior of the vibrator. He huffs, “Don’t hold back. I want you dripping onto to the sheets. Can you do that for me, honey?”

Another moan escapes your lips, envisioning the mess you’re about to make with his sultry voice guiding you through it. “I can’t do it alone,” you whine, finger right on the trigger, raring to go. “Help me, Kento.”

“I’m right here, princess. Don’t worry. Just listen to me, okay? Follow my every word.”

You nod, hypnotized by each syllable uttered from his lust laden lips, like an obedient slut. You’ve almost forgotten that you’re alone in bed, convinced he’s whispering filthy instructions directly in your ear beside you, watching you unravel with the dormant toy pressed to your pussy. “Can you turn it on now, honey?”

He’s gentle and affectionate in the beginning, hiding wicked desires behind endearing pet-names. Soon, he’ll start taunting you, tormenting you for being so fucking sensitive, so fucking needy. The two sides of him work together in perfect sync, angel and devil, both determined to make you lose yourself in the throes of passion. There’s nothing he loves more than seeing you, or in this case, hearing you, completely unhinged for him, and only him.

When you finally push the button, the low buzz playing in the background, he can’t help but increase the pace of his strokes. He pictures your thighs open wide, the shaking tip nestled between your delicate pussy lips, the vibrations stimulating your clit, radiating down to your pointed toes. Head thrown back into the pillows, cheeks hot, tongue sticking out in that adorable dumb expression you make whenever you’re being fucked. It won’t take long for you to climax, not when he’s on the phone guiding you as he jerks his twitching cock. Just the thought of your body spasming from exhilaration is enough to get him off.

“That’s it, right on your clit, honey. Does it feel good?” He knows it does, judging by how the only response he receives are your shameless moans. He chuckles, stroking himself faster. “I can’t understand you, honey. Does it feel good?” Still no reply, he growls, “Answer me.”

You choke on your spit, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. When you catch your breath, you let out a trembling, “Yes!”, resulting in another sinister laugh from him.

“Feels so good, you can’t even speak properly, can you? Too fucked out to even think, huh? Nasty slut.” His devilish side kicks in, hell-bent on hearing you orgasm, to have you coming so hard you spill onto the sheets. “I married such a whore, didn’t I? That’s what you are, a fucking whore. You’re so fucking slutty for me, I love it.”

You’re a whimpering mess now, the vibe sending you into a spiral, clit aching from the relentless tremors. There’s not a coherent thought in your brain; you’re incapable of admitting to him that you’re close. You let him figure it out when you cry out, “Fuck!”, legs quivering and stomach tight from the intense high.

“Give me your fucking orgasm, baby. Let me fucking hear it,” he spits out, sweat forming on his forehead. He’s since stripped his robe off entirely, laying on top of It while he masturbates to the sounds of his precious slut doing exactly what he wants her to do. What he needs her to do.

When you’re finished, you slide the toy lower so that it’s not directly on your sensitive bud. The fluttering tip starts making soft splashing noises at your arousal, indicating just how fucking wet you are. You place the phone right on your abdomen, hoping he can hear the lewd squelches from your pussy. For the first time since you began, you’re able to formulate a proper sentence, body relaxed into the mattress. “Can you hear it, baby? Can you hear how wet I am for you?”

He definitely can. “Ah, fuck,” he swears, fisting his shaft faster. His hand is not enough; it never is. But he lets his imagination do the rest for him. He knows how fucking juicy his pretty wife’s pussy is. Your perfect, luscious pussy lips puffy from overstimulation, covered in sticky sweet cum. He’d do anything for a taste of it right now, to run his tongue along your glistening folds, gather your slick and swallow it to quench his thirst. Dip his finger inside that gushy entrance only to stick it into his mouth, slurping every last drop. He admires the mental image before flicking his wrist with fervor, pumping his cock until he shoots his load onto his stomach.

The two of you stay quiet for a moment, the static noise and muted buzzing from the phone settling in the silence. Nanami looks down, inspecting the wreckage splattered across his abs, leaking down his side and onto the robe beneath. He runs his fingers through his hair, forehead tacky with perspiration, exhaling with a satisfied smile before calling out, “Honey? Are you still there?”

It's only now that he remembers that the low hum is from the vibrator, still buzzing against your supple skin. Reserved moans growing louder as you circle the toy back to your needy clit, ready for another round.

Nanami smirks to himself, holding the phone closer to his ear, rock hard again. It’s going to be a long, fulfilling night.

#kento nanami #nanami kento #nanami kento smut #nanami smut #nanami fanfic #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #Kento Nanami smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk nanami

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gaybitchfx · 6 months

Text

✰𝓚. 𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓼𝓸✰

Sad bitch, but I love being bad —★

Hopped up out my feelings and I hopped in my bag

★—I'm a real hood bitch, I don't give a fuck

Talk shit, you getting hit, knuck if you buck —CLIP

𝓣𝓦: none that i know of 👍🏽, intentional lowercase, male reader, bad grammar or spelling errors, a little something i made cause i was bored

☆CHOSO who has heard so rumors about you throughout the college. some being you were a whore or slut, others saying you only played with other guys feelings and due to those rumors most people who didn’t know avoided you like the plague. and you of course didn’t give a damn to begin with, yeah you slept with guys just for the fun of it and probably because you couldn’t express your actual true feelings to someone. well, that was until choso came along. he was the first to actually treat you like a human being and not some shameless slut. “so what’s the catch? you tryna make me suck ya dick or some shit?” you asked him with a raised brow as you crossed your leg over the other. his brow raised a little bit from your blunt response before relaxing. “no, you just seem like a good person despite all those rumors i’ve heard about you.” he said as he looked at you, you were very close to just laughing in his face. “yeah sure, that’s what they all say. next thing they know they’re in my dorm or some bathroom with their pants at their ankles either fuckin’ me or i’m suckin’ em off.” you said as a frown formed on your lips.

☆CHOSO who never understood why you wouldn’t let him just be your friend or someone you could just talk to. he’s been trying for a week now and everyone knows this. “just give up, he won’t let you get anywhere near him, let alone close enough to his heart.” someone said to him as they patted his shoulder. now that was a challenge choso was willing to take on, after all you probably needed someone to at least get all your frustration out on by ranting. so every given moment he’d try to start a conversation with you but would continuously get ignored or pushed away. it took about another week before you yelled at him about how he was annoying and needed to bother someone else all the way to how you felt about certain things. it took awhile for you to shut up though, but choso just listened and didn’t say anything else and allowed you to take out all your frustrations out on him. “feeling better?” he asked once you were finished. you just simply nodded your head before a long sigh left your mouth. “is that why you kept bugging me like a damn fly?” you asked as you crossed your arms over your chest. “mhm, you looked stressed out even though you always have this ‘i don’t give a fuck’ vibe.” he said as he patted your back.

☆tags: @reallyromealone @lostsomewhereinthegarden

#male reader #x male reader #male y/n #male reader insert #jujutsu kaisen x male reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso #jjk choso #choso x male reader #choso x reader #kamo x male reader #kamo x reader #maybe fluff #fiction #anime

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tojivu · 6 months

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# OFFICE HOURS ‣ GOJO SATORU

✰ — author’s note i feel so guilty bc gojo is literally the only character i write for LOL anyway this is an old draft from months ago. idk why this is so long im so horrendously down bad for this fucking snowman.

✰ — cw / tags arrogant ceo!gojo x secretary f!reader, sfw, not rly enemies to lovers bc gojo has fat feelings, gojo satoru being a billionaire playboy

✰ — playing death & taxes by daniel caesar.

✰ — word count ~3k LOL

nothing about gojo satoru really strikes you as the serious type.

even in a professional environment, your boss always has a carefree demeanour. his laugh is so nauseatingly loud that you can hear it from outside the office, and you wonder how someone as busy as him manages through his day; much less with a positive attitude. you take one look at his schedule, and you want to vomit with the way you hardly see any gaps between appointments.

you suppose you could learn that from him. it's his only good quality.

you admit that he's likeable, on surface level. there's a reason why you detest him, though: as his closest colleague, you know him way more than you would prefer. most people would think such a well to do man like satoru would have a wife by his side, but that's unfortunately not the case. you almost feel more miserable than him—because now you're forced to be the listening ear and comforting hand at his beck and call.

you think he'd be just fine if he was just a little more humble. he has a nice face. it's his fault for being so stuck up. you know how many women ask him out—painfully aware, actually.

'they just aren't suited to my taste,' he would say to you. 'i need someone that makes me feel alive.'

one time, gojo even asked you to bail him out of a date—something about the way she held her fork and knife disturbed him, and you were expected to show up at the restaurant and act as if there was an emergency.

'i'm so sorry, sweetheart. i have to go, duty calls.' his disgustingly charming tone made you want to slap him then and there.

she called him again the following week, and he completely forgot who she was. he didn't even save her number.

the sheer number of people asking him out had stroked his ego so hard that gojo firmly believes no woman is deserving enough. he rambles on and on to you about how snobby some of them seem, and it takes everything in you to bite your tongue when he does. 'takes one to know one,' you would say, if not for your job at stake.

you think gojo satoru is full of himself. you are a strong believer of that. a witness, as well—it's not like he didn't try his way with you, too. unlike the women he ranted about, you turned him down every single time.

it's been a long while since any of that has happened, though. the most recent ordeal was months ago, but that didn't inherently mean that people stopped asking him out: it just meant that he was rejecting every single offer.

it's a thursday morning when you find yourself eating a sandwich you purchased on the way to work, at your desk—wondering when the big boss will finally arrive. the clock read 9 a.m., and you're expecting an extravagant "good morning!" to surprise you any moment now.

just then, you notice mr. conceited walk in: except something is different. he has no stride in his step. there was no good morning. there was no playful teasing directed at you as he walked past your desk and into his office, not that you were complaining—it was just strange.

you stand up, a mouthful of your sandwich still being chewed. you take a big sip of water and fix your skirt and blouse, making sure your hair is presentable—before swiftly making your way into his office.

──────

"i cannot believe this." he mumbles. you're standing in front of his desk, but he's not facing your direction.

gojo's chair is turned to the giant window that overlooks the business district, and he's gazing out of it thoughtfully. you think this is the cheesiest thing you've seen him do.

you can see how disheveled his hair was, even from where you were standing. you don't want to irritate him further, in case teasing you was still on his to-do list that day.

"what is it, mr. gojo?"

he swivels his chair around, and he is a mess—just what could have he been up to?

"i woke up late today."

"you're the boss, mr. gojo. you can come in any time you want—"

"not the point." he interrupts you. "i forgot my lunch. i was in the car, with the driver, on the way here already. . . and then i realised i left my donuts at home."

gojo's face is absolutely distraught. he looks like he's gone through a divorce and had his house set on fire with how he stands up dramatically—his hands now on his desk. you open your mouth to speak, but he shuts you up by talking again.

"i didn't want to inconvenience him. i'm too thoughtful, miss y/n."

you want to scoff, but you bite your tongue and hold back.

"so i got out of the car and ran back for it," gojo recounts. "i arrived home after the treacherous journey—only to discover that my donuts are gone."

you feign an expression of shock, just to humour him; he gives you an 'i know right' look, and continues his nonsensical story.

"the maids threw them away, miss y/n."

you can't help yourself: you let a small giggle slip through your lips. you quickly use your hand to cover your mouth, thinking of a quick excuse.

you cough. you pretend to, at least—but gojo satoru is not stupid.

no, maybe a little. though, not enough to be convinced of your terrible acting.

"nothing about this is funny."

you nod, looking down at the floor. "i apologise, mr. gojo, but it's just a few donuts. i'm sure someone in the office could fetch some for you."

"yes, i agree." he says, and you shift your gaze from the marble tiling of his office to his face. his hair is a mess, yes—but he still looks revoltingly handsome. his eyes are piercing through yours, and pieces of hair cover his face in just the right places.

you're staring a little too long and gojo finds his pulse quickening with the eye contact—but the spell he has you under is soon broken when he clears his throat.

you quickly look away, embarrassed that you were caught staring at your boss, by your boss.

"you'll pick some up for me, yeah?" his smooth and silky voice echoes through the empty space of his office.

you look at him again, and there's a gentle smile on his face; one you're all too familiar with.

you're aware of satoru's charismatic nature, his playboy-ish attitude, and all sorts of tricks he uses to make women fall head over heels for him. that didn't mean you were completely resistant to them, though—you find yourself playing with the sleeves of your blouse, your ears beginning to redden. "of course," is all you manage to say.

at least you were self-aware.

your mind was rational. should gojo satoru try to hit on you for the nth time—all it took was some self discipline to say no, and you'd like to think you had plenty.

you think the conversation is done with the way he doesn't speak another word, so you turn on your heels and make your way out of the office.

just as you touch the handle of the door, your boss adds: "i'll come with you."

you turn back to him, confused. you didn't need your boss babysitting you for a donut run, you knew his favourite flavours—it's all he ever insists on buying for lunch. "there's no need for that, mr. gojo."

satoru shakes his head in disapproval. "you don't even know my favourite flavours, miss y/n."

that was a blatant lie. he knew you knew. you were his personal donut grabber for a few months up until august, and it was only october. you suppose that it would've continued on if not for your complaints about the long lines in the morning.

nevertheless, you don't argue with him. gojo satoru was the type to get what he wants, when he wants, if he really wants it.

you smile at his disregard for the months you spent as his errand runner, and how idiotic the excuse he just used was. satoru knows he's lying through his teeth, and your smile makes him more nervous than your eye contact.

so nervous, in fact, that he takes back what he just said. "unless. . . you're fine by yourself."

you're surprised that gojo's confidence is dissipating, or that it could even fade at all. you can tell with the way he's avoiding your eye contact, exactly how you evaded his earlier—the red on the tips of his ears are much too obvious in contrast to his hair.

"i don't mind," you respond a bit too quicker than appropriate. "mr. gojo."

gojo curses himself mentally, thinking about how stupid he must sound. he's usually the one making people nervous, but he doesn't know why it's different when you look at him like that.

──────

the atmosphere is deafening in gojo's favourite bakery. you always knew he had a sweet tooth, so you expected his choice to be a spectacular one—and you weren't disappointed.

you had personally visited this bakeshop before, and the confectionery was truly as good as people made it out to be; it proved evident in the amount of people crammed into this small establishment. though, you can't tell if it was for the food or for your boss, with the way most pairs of eyes are turned in his direction.

you two spend a good five seconds looking at the menu before gojo states his order, which was exactly what you thought it would be—the lady at the cashier smiles a bit too long at satoru, before asking: "eating in?"

you want to open your mouth to say something, but he beats you to it. "of course."

it was still very well your work day. he (or maybe you and him, considering you helped him plan seventy percent of his appointments) had a meeting in 3 hours to prepare for. you think this donut adventure is already unnecessary enough—but here he is, suggesting to waste even more time eating the donuts in the bakery itself.

"we have a meeting in a bit, though. you could eat it in your office."

he looks at you with a confused look, as if he forgot that there was a meeting at all—because he did forget. gojo gasps, turning back to the lady and retracting his previous statement.

──────

gojo eats his donuts agonisingly slow and no conversation is initiated.

you're alternating between staring at both your laptops and the swirls on the wooden desk, unable to say anything because you didn't plan for such an occasion: an eating donuts with your admittedly handsome boss that makes you nervous while simultaneously planning for an important meeting occasion.

"miss y/n, you should try some."

you shift your eyes from the table to gojo, and he's holding a small piece of his donut to your lips: the powdered sugar practically calling your name.

"it's fine, i ate earlier," you decline his generous offer. "you should eat."

"i'm not asking you to eat all of them, miss y/n." he smiles at you. "just a bite. it's really good, y'know."

you sigh, reaching for his hand to take it from him—but he swiftly pulls it away and shakes his head. "open your mouth."

you feel the tips of your ears burning, blood rushing to your cheeks and you wonder how the girls he takes out manage themselves when he's like this—you've worked with him for so long, yet you can't recall a time when his gaze wouldn't make you shudder.

you think you'd stutter if you spoke one more word to him, so you save yourself from the embarrassment and bare with his request.

he feeds you the piece of sugar-coated donut, and you're sure you have powder on the corners of your lips with how it's width barely fits into your mouth.

you chew and swallow, feeling the residue of sugar on your skin.

"do you have any tissues?" you ask him, a serious expression plastered onto your face.

gojo tries to suppress the chuckle itching to escape his throat—the sugar on your lips and cheeks catch him off guard, and after a few seconds he can't help but let a small laugh slip. you stand up from your chair, scanning the room for any boxes of tissues you could lay your hands on.

he stands up as well, shaking his head—still giggling.

"it's not funny," you frown, and the smile on his face only grows wider—you're too cute for your own good when you sulk. "stop laughing."

you're not sure if you want to punch him or let him giggle to himself. for some reason, seeing you embarrassed is a great cause of joy to him. you can't bring yourself to tell him to shut up; you always imagine doing just that, it's strange how you couldn't muster the courage just when you needed it most.

"it's quite funny," gojo's laughter eventually calms down.

he leans closer to you and his right hand gently holds the side of your jaw—he uses his thumb to gently wipe the sugar off your cheek, and then your lips. "i got it."

his thumb stays on your bottom lip after dusting the sugar away. his pupils are locked onto the surface of your lips, which were glossy in the harsh light of his office: they looked so soft.

before long, they trail up your face until he's looking directly into your eyes: and this time you're not nervous, you don't look away, and your heart is completely calm.

satoru's fingers are easy on your skin. he handles you like fragile glass, as if he doesn't want to break you: and it's the same for the way he looks at you. gentle.

you're reluctant to speak because the way satoru has his thumb on your bottom lip sends shivers down your spine. you feel breathless.

you don't want this feeling to leave, not just yet.

a few seconds of tension pass. his hand moves back to your jaw, and your nervousness returns when gojo satoru leans his tall figure even closer to you; his head tilting ever so slightly.

it's a random thursday morning when you discover a few more good qualities gojo satoru possesses: his lips and his hands. maybe the way he kisses, too—it's slow and precise, unlike his attitude. he tastes sickeningly sweet and it makes you want to savour this moment even more.

you promised yourself you wouldn't fall victim to gojo satoru. yet, you just can't pull away: instead finding yourself slithering your arms around his neck and your chest pressing against his.

gojo's hands are wandering down to your waist and he's desperate to have you as close to him as possible, showing in the way he tries to close the already small gap between you two.

it takes only a fraction of a second for a small thought to form in your mind: just how many women have been in this position?

you quickly forget about that thought, though—you think it's pointless to regret it now, gojo satoru kisses you too good to be full of remorse.

gojo thinks he could stay like this: kiss you all morning, afternoon and pay you overtime if it meant he could be this close to you for just a bit longer.

there's hints of neediness in gojo's touch—as if he'd been waiting for this forever, wanting to relish it before it ends. his few seconds of bliss don’t last very long though, because you're soon pulling away—gasping for air.

he sighs mockingly, his hands sliding down from your waist to your hips. "can't last longer than 10 seconds, miss y/n?"

of course he would say some cocky shit like that—you'd forgotten for a minute that this was the same, arrogant mr. gojo you always knew, and no kiss (however heavenly) was going to change that.

"i'm sorry that i don't go on dates with every man that breathes."

gojo smirks at you after you say those words. "come on. just because i go on dates with people, doesn't mean i kiss them like this."

"sure you don't." your jealousy shows a bit too much in your reply, and he finds himself smiling even harder.

"is someone jealous?" he teases you again, rubbing circles with his thumb against the flesh of your hips.

you feel flustered, knowing that you're definitely done for now—he saw right through you. "nobody is jealous, mr. gojo."

"stop it with the formality. just call me satoru."

"it's still office hours. it's only polite."

gojo rolls his eyes, sighing in the process. you grin a little at him, knowing that this was the first thing you denied him of today—complying with the donuts and the kissing was already spoiling him enough.

"then i suppose there's only after work," there's his nauseatingly charming voice again—low and smooth. he knows exactly what he's doing to you, and you know it too. "i'm off after 6."

you think long and hard about whether you want to be mean and add this to the list of things you've declined to do for him. the ratio was starting to get really unbalanced—but you remember the way his hands touch you and how his lips greet yours so lovingly: and you think that there's no point turning back now.

"my boss doesn't let me off until after 8, though." you try to poke at his buttons—you put on a fake pout, knowing you’ll accept his invitation anyway—but gojo satoru is eternally patient when it came to things he sincerely desired.

"fuck your boss." he says, "he'll be fine with it."

you laugh at his response. you never thought you would see the day gojo curses at himself, after all, he's so self-obsessed: but you suppose you've seen—and tasted—parts of him that you never knew existed.

"then i'll see you at 6, mr. gojo."

what was the harm in discovering more?

230323 — i kinda hate this but.. wtv… anyway i couldn’t be bothered to proofread have my brainrot of gojo in a suit Mmmm yumyum

#jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x reader fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojo fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk imagine #jjk imagines #gojo imagine #gojo imagines #gojo x y/n #gojo x you

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