#the card counter X you

[boredzillenial]

Bad Bet

William beats you in a poker tournament, but you just can’t accept defeat, not yet…

Themes: DEAD DOVE - DNE f!reader, Dark!William, stealing, kidnapping, bit of violence (reader knocked unconscious, a headbutt), bondage, teasing/degradation, a spank, use of honorifics (good girl, attagirl), heavy eye contact, choking, nipple play, non-con, pinv, ruined orgasm

Wordcount: 2.6K

A.N: Huge thanks to @lunar-ghoulie @lunar-ghoulie4art ! I loved working together with the artwork and the fic! The Circle of Smut continues 😘

No, no this couldn’t be happening. How were you losing! You’d studied every player, every little tick and tell, and now you were losing to this guy?

You glared ahead at the man taking your money hand over fist. His slicked back salt and pepper hair shone like silver in the dim lighting of the casino. Piles of poker chips sat in-front of him and mocked you with every card dealt. Those had been yours… That was you’re fucking money stacked in-front of him…

All that money you’d so confidently walked into the casino with, all those chips - were gone. That son-of-a-bitch had taken of it… You stood slowly as you glared across the table, and this motherfucker had the nerve to give you a flat smile and a dismissive nod.

That was it, the final thing to snap your resolve. There’s no way he was keeping your money… You stalked to the edges of the tournament and watched it finish out from the shadows. This guy didn’t even win the damn tournament. He’d stopped during a hot streak and bowed out. You heard his name through quiet whispers of on-lookers next to you, William Tell.

You continued to lurk just out of sight as he sat at the bar. Adjusted from machine to machine to keep line of sight without drawing attention. He sipped on his whiskey like he was purposefully trying to waste the night away. Finally after what felt like an eternity he cashed out. The cashier piled stacks and stacks of your money onto the counter. He stuffed it unceremoniously into his jacket, flicked his sunglasses on and strolled out into the frigid air.

You followed several lengths behind and squinted in the abnormally bright winter sun as you stepped outside. After a few moments blinking away the sudden adjustment your heart nearly stopped as William passed you in his silver sedan. Quickly you found your own car and trailed behind him, keeping a few lengths back until he pulled into a shitty motel. Bingo… The wheels in your head churned as you passed by and found a decent spot to U-turn. Not only were you gonna get your money back, you were gonna take a little extra for your bruised ego.

~~~~~~~

Hours passed slowly as you sat at the far end of the parking lot, watching his shadow move back and forth across the drawn curtains of his room. Finally, a crack of light crept across the lot as he came out into the bitter night. Your leg bounced in anticipation as he got in his car and drove off. You had to be smart about this, wait a few minutes to ensure he wouldn’t double back in case he forgot something, then get in.

A couple minutes felt like a lifetime and you just couldn’t wait any longer. Streaking across the lot like a shadow you jimmied the already busted looking lock on the door and made your way inside. What you saw froze you in your tracks.

All of the furniture in the room, including the bedside lamp, has been meticulously wrapped in white sheets and tied with twine. “Fucking psycho.” You muttered under your breath as you made your way inside. Your eyes flickered to the movie playing on a beaten down dresser. Some old western with a few too many gunslingers, the noise louder than you’d like for your already fried nerves. You looked around for bags, a suitcase, something - but the room appeared to be bare. Then your eyes connected with the closet, there had to be a safe…

Unease made your movements uncoordinated as you peered inside, unsure of what exactly you’d find. A soft sigh left your lips as your eyes lowered and settled on a small dingy hotel safe. “Jackpot.” You muttered with a smirk. Gunfire went off in the background and jolted you forward into the small closet. You shook off your nerves and settled back into your assessment of the safe.

It was a tiny black thing that looked like it’d been beaten within an inch of destruction. However, while the outside was dented the lock itself held steady against your prying fingers. You shook it out of sheer frustration and realized it wasn’t actually secured to anything. “Fuck it.” You muttered as you lifted the small safe up out of the closet and set it onto the bedside table. If you couldn’t crack it here, better to take it home.

The tension in your chest settled now that you had your prize. With no movement outside you grew bolder and decided to snoop. You found his suitcase and duffle bag tucked behind the sheet covered armchair in the corner. The suitcase was light when you pulled it out and set it atop the chair, the only things left inside was another white sheet and a spool of twine.

The dufflebag however, was much heavier. You lifted the brown leather bag with a huff as you set it beside the suitcase and opened it. Confusion knitted your brow at what you initially saw: pliers, a hammer, medical shears, gloves, and a black sack. Your heart thundered in your chest at the uses you imagined for all this. Then, be it bravery or stupidity, you dug around past the layer of torture tools till you hit something different, cash. Stacks and stacks tucked neatly underneath the grizzly tools.

You rummaged around to see just how many layers there were when another round of gunshots rang out from the tv. Unbeknownst to you they covered the sound of the door as it swung open. It was too late when you heard the rustle of clothing behind you a second before blinding pain exploded in the back of your skull and sent your world into darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first moments of regained consciousness were hazy. Sensations came first, pain pounded in the back of your head, a soft fabric loosely around your head, rope bit into your ankles. You went to sit up until the similar bite of rope around your wrists stopped you.

“Don’t bother.” An apathetic voice muttered behind you.

You twisted slowly, the pang in your head sent your vision blurring despite the only thing you could see was darkness. A vague shadow passed infront of you. “Will-iam?” You groaned.

“Who else, you did break into my room.” His footsteps drew nearer and your heart nearly lept from your chest. “It was cute you know, watching you as you lost all that money.” You watched the shadow on the other side of the fabric. “I thought I would enjoy just watching you. Enjoy watching your nose wrinkle and that little snarl on your lips. That look when you left the table.”

One rough tug and the bag was pulled from your head. William slowly came into focus as he leaned forward, his dark eyes peered into your own. You held his gaze as you tested your bonds behind your back. “What wasn’t as cute, but far more interesting, was catching you following me here. I thought you’d just tail me for a bit then peel off, but you didn’t -”

You took the moment of him monologuing and lurched forward. Your forehead connected with the bridge of his nose. He stumbled backward and caught himself, holding his face as he stood. Tension drew his shoulders up as he turned his back to you and walked over to the dresser. The sound of metal on wood felt like it scraped across your nerves.

He turned on his heels, a slow red trail flowed down over his lip. A tight grin revealed the tint of red spread across his teeth. You shivered at the sight of him as he adjusted those blue gloves over his fingers and squinted for a moment. He assessed you, curled and tied on the bed, seemingly made some decision and turned to grab the medical shears off the dresser.

As he dragged his gloved fingers across his lips it left a crimson streak across them. William strode over slowly, grabbed hold of your ankles and twisted till you laid on your back. Your bound hands dug uncomfortably into your spine. You went to kick but the combination of his eyes boring into yours, his grip tightening, and the snarl on his lips made you still.

“Hours later, after you should’ve lost your nerve and left, there you were in your car, waiting.” He slotted the shears at the cuff of your pants and cut slowly. “You’re not nearly as inconspicuous as you think you are gorgeous.” His breath left him in a slow sigh as your bare leg came into view. His tongue dragged across his upper lip to clean the scarlet stain.

“So I gave you a hand. Busted the lock on the door just in case your burglary skills matched your ability to blend in.” His cuts were steady till they hit the band of your underwear. His smirk shifted to another quick snarl as he pressed the scissors against your skin, caught the edge of your panties and in one swift motion your right leg was free from ankle to hip.

“When I pulled in and saw your shadow across the blinds I thought I was imagining it. You really had the guts to try to steal from me.” Panic set in as he moved the shears to your left pant leg and began to cut. You wiggled despite the vice-grip he had on your ankles, which earned you a low growl. His hand shifted to a bruising grip on your hip to steady you. With another firm cut your left leg was freed and a wicked grin spread across his face.

In one swift motion he yanked your tattered pants, the chill from the stale hotel AC ghosted across your exposed pussy. “You sick son of a bitch!” You spat.

His grin twisted your belly as he gripped your bound ankles and lifted them straight up. “I like guts. In fact, that’s how I know you’ll be perfect for what I have in mind if you can manage to behave.”

“Let me go!” You arched and twisted till a harsh slap cracked across your ass.

“Enough!” He pressed forward till your knees touched your chest. Your breathing came in short gasps as he continued. “I need you to do as your told. I promise you, you don’t wanna know what’ll happen if you don’t.” Your gaze flickered to the brown leather bag sitting open on the armchair. The image of what it contained stilled your movements. “Ahh good girl, you remember what you saw in there?”

Your eyes grow wide as you nodded. You looked back as him leaned over your legs, his groin pressed against your bare core. “You’re mine now. Understood?” You nodded again.

“Attagirl, I like a quick learner.” His voice was low as he quickly undid his belt and zipper. His length came free and pressed against your soft folds. “Been needing someone to bury my cock in.” He rolled his hips slowly, gathered slickness along his girth before the fat tip pressed into you.

The stretch of him stole the last bit of air you had. He smirked at your shallow breathes but relented, leaned back a bit and kept your ankles on his shoulder. You filled your lungs greedily before a snap of his hips punched the air from you. “I’m taking you on the road with me. If you’re good, I’ll even teach you how to play poker.”

“Fuck yo-uuu.” He sunk further twisting your curse into a groan.

“Gladly.” He leaned back, grabbing the shears and raised a brow. “Behave.” In a quick cut your legs fell to either side of his hips.

A thought flickered in your mind, if you could just wrap your legs around him and squeeze as hard as you could you might be able to -

William leaned forward and wrapped his hand around your throat. “I see those wheels turning. Whatever it is your thinking, don’t.” His hips snapped forward again and set a steady pace as you grew lightheaded. You were so preoccupied with the buzzing in your head that you hadn’t noticed his other hand. Dexterous latex covered fingers met your clit and rubbed firm circles over it.

The pressure, the angle, the stretch of him. It was too much. You felt your eyes nearly cross as you looked up at him. Mouth agape in a silent plea as he shoved you closer and closer to climax with every buck. “See? See what happens when you behave?” He breathed between thrusts.

Fuck him for doing this to you, fuck him for making you feel so damn good. Fuck him for - With a final press he sent you over the edge, your head thrown back and a choked groan escaped your throat as he let it go. “Good girl,” He cooed. “Give in.”

Your muscles melted as you came down from your high, only vaguely aware of him shifting positions. He lifted your legs over his shoulders and leaned in. “Look at me baby, eyes on me.” His gravely tone brought you back to the moment. You looked up at him. His silver hair fell forward and a tinge of red remained on his upper lip. You groaned as he lean further still, deliciously deep in your channel. “That’s right, look at me as you take it. Take all of it.” He buried himself as deep as he could. The stretch almost too much as you quivered around him.

“F-fuck.” You whimpered as he began a slow, deep rhythm. The part of you that wanted to protest became a soft, distant whisper somewhere in the back of your mind. His hands snaked up to your collar and ripped the fabric till your breasts fell free.

“Perfect.” He whispered as his gloved fingers gripped your breasts. You arched into his touch as the latex grazed against your hardened nipples. Eyes squeezed shut as you bit your lip. A hard twist made you gasp and jolt forward to give him an angry glare. “Eyes. on. me.” He growled as his thrusts grew harsher.

Frustration and pleasure roiled inside you as his pace quickened. You held his gaze with as hard of an expression as you could muster until his touch suddenly grew gentle on your sensitive peaks. Your brows tilted up as you bit your lip to stop the whimper he tried to draw from you. “Let me hear it.” He growled.

You shook your head as your bite teetered on painful. His cock hit that spot deep within you as he churned, his pelvis grinding against your clit. Your breath quickened despite your attempt to fight off the pleasure he brought. “Last chance, let me hear you.”

A metallic tang spread across your tongue as you bit down harder and shook your head. “Fine.” His pace quickened, sent you right to the edge before pulling completely out. Your heels hit the bed as you whimpered and groaned. Channel clenched around nothing, orgasm completely ruined. Tears stung your eyes as you glared at him.

“Should’ve listened.” He smirked as his cock twitched, covered in slickness. Your gaze remained on his length. “You gonna listen this time?” He mocked as he took off his tie. He waited for your response with a confident smirk and slowly took off his dress shirt. Your gaze flickered to his muscular torso as it came into view then back down to erection still hard and throbbing.

You swallowed the metallic taste in your mouth along with your pride, and gave a curt nod. That one minute motion sealed that evening and many more to come. Or in your case, not to cum.

————————

Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @ominoose @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @romana-after-dark

#artists feed writers and writers feed artists 🤝 #🎶it’s the circle of smut🎵 #william tell fan fiction #william tell #william tell fanfiction #william tell smut #william tell #the card counter fan fiction #the card counter x you #the card counter x reader #the card counter fanfiction #the card counter fic #the card counter #william tell x reader #William tell X you #deaddovedecember2023

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Losing Hand

William Tell x F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 8: Cockwarming

Summary: William tries to teach you to appreciate poker.

Warnings: cockwarming, p in v sex, cream pie, typos, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 1052

You shift a little on William’s lap. 

The deep press of his long, thick cock inside you is distracting you more than you want to let on. Not that William can’t tell. Even if he couldn’t feel every time you clench around him he’d be able to read you like a well-worn paperback. 

He doesn’t say anything though. 

Just lets you move and readjust. You notice the slight hitch in his breathing, the small bob of his throat. But they are minute. Hardly reactions at all. 

You sigh and look at your cards, trying to remember what William has been teaching you about poker. The worst card game in your opinion. And by worst you meant boring. TV and films always made it seem like it was full of royal flushes and straights, but really it was two of a kind. If you were lucky. 

“It’s all about playing the other players, not about the game.” He had said, with a small smile. Though he had at least agreed that poker wasn’t his preferred way to gamble. 

“I’d rather play an interesting game.” You’d grumbled.

You had known you’d been in trouble the second the words left your mouth and a wicked gleam flickered on in William’s eyes.

“Oh,” he smiled widely. “I’m sure we can make it interesting.”

Which is how you found yourself here. Your chest pressed against his, resting your chin on his shoulder, your thighs either side of his. 

You hold your cards behind his back, so only you can see. William does the same with his own. 

The position makes dealing a little difficult, but William’s promised that he’ll play fair and won’t look at what you’re dealt as he passes them over his shoulder to you. And you know that for William, a promise is a promise. 

After around ten minutes you noticed he loosened the top few buttons of his shirt. He was completely dressed, having just undone his fly. While you’d opted to take off your trousers and underwear. 

The cards you had were shit. Unhelpful in practically any card game you could think of. You sighed as you stared at them, trying to decide on what you wanted to do. 

You shift again, stretching your left leg. 

“Comfortable?” William growls in your ear, his voice low and dark. You feel his dick twitch inside of you. 

Somehow you manage to suppress a giggle and nod. “Yeah, you?” 

He grumbles something unintelligible. 

You pause for a moment, the realisation suddenly dawning that perhaps your current position was more frustrating to William than it was to you. Mr Oh So Calm and Collected. 

Sure, you were split open and knew that your slick was running down his balls and soaking into his trousers. But, at least you were able to keep some level of control. 

You pause and wiggle ever so slightly, not enough for him to really call you out on it.

But he groans. A small, low sound that you wouldn’t have caught if you hadn’t been listening for it. 

You stop moving. Leave it for a second before you start up again. This time you contract your walls, clamping down on him and-

“Fuck.” He hisses, grabbing hold of your hips and burying his face into your neck. 

“William, what are you doing?” You tease. “We’re playing poker?” 

“You know exactly what you’re doing.” He mutters into your skin. His fingers press firmly against you, bedding the cards in his hand.

“I don’t know what you mean?” You said innocently as you clench around him again. 

He lets out a small moan, his heartbeat thundering in his chest. He mouths at your neck, scraping his teeth over your skin before he bites down softly. 

You let out a small gasp of surprise, your walls fluttering around him again. 

And William loses it. He stares up at you through his long lashes and rocks you back and forth, his hands bruising on your hips. 

Pleasure flares up your spine as he finally moves. That deep ache that had been festering even since you both started the stupid game explodes into full on need as the tip of his cock brushes against that wonderful spot inside. 

You bite your lip, trying to swallow your moans as you grip hold of his shoulders and move with him. Taking over the angle and tempo so that your clit grinds against him deliciously. 

He buries his head into your chest, mouthing at your breast through the material of your top. You let him for a moment, let him hide his face as he nears his peak. He’s too on edge to hold himself back for long. 

Gently, but with a force you know he needs, you slide your hand under his jaw and push his chin back until he’s looking up at you, his neck taut and exposed. 

His brows furrowed together as he tries to fend off his impending orgasm. Quickly, he lets go of your hip with his right hand and presses his thumb between your bodies, adding extra pressure on your clit. He doesn’t circle it but pinches it lightly with an alternating force that makes you gasp and squirm on his lap as he looks up at you with drunken lust. 

“Fuck, come on baby, please,” he murmurs between grunted breaths, “please, need to feel you squeeze my cock, need to feel you cum on me.”

You grind down on him, desperately chasing your high as he kisses you messily, groaning out fragments of sentences between breaths. “So wet for me, need you so bad, need you to-”

You whine into his mouth as your orgasm crests, pleasure rushing over you as he hits impossibly deep. Pressing into the very heart of you. 

William groans a fraction of a second later, his dick throbbing as you clamp down on him. He spills deep inside, his hips rutting to fuck his spend further. 

He holds you tightly as you both breathe heavily, sweat cooling on your bodies. He kisses your shoulder, nuzzling into you as you rest against him. 

“I quite like poker actually, if all games end like that.” You mumble sleepily. 

William chuckles and presses a soft kiss to your lips. “All our poker games can end this way if you’d like.” 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading! (Using a different tag list for kinktober so I don't overwhelm anyone.)

@flightlessangelwings @steven-grants-world @lonelyisamyw-0love @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @campingwiththecharmings @minigirl87 @whatthefishh

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#fawktober2023 #kinktober2023 #kinktober #william tell #the card counter #william tell x reader #x reader #william tell x you #x you #william tell x female reader #x female reader #william tell x f!reader #x f!reader #william tell x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

[inklore]

plead to me

premise: you don’t know what turns you on more the fear you get when william scowls at you from across the room for being a tease, or the pain he gives you when he’s had enough.

pairing: meandom!william tell x (f)reader

word count: 899

warnings: eighteen+ content, hair pulling, dadsbsf!will, fear play, slight dirty talk but not really, teasing, tiny bit of pain kink, manhandling, pet names.

etc: maybe someday i’ll write more of this but for now have a tiny taste of this piece of fiction i wish was my life because mr. tell could choke me until death and i’d comply willingly, happily.

kinktober 08 | kinktober masterlist

When he grabs the back of your head, a handful of your hair in his grip, it’s not with kindness. Nor is it with the desire that’s pounding between your legs right now. It’s with malice, frustration, a deep scowl on his brow that lets you know he’s not playing. That he’s finally drawing that line in the preferable sand and you’ve gone too far.

When you had slipped the small skirt on this morning—getting word from your father that William would be over, that the man you’ve had a painstakingly obvious crush on for a handful of years now, was going to be at your house all day, going to be sharing the same tense filled space with you; the skirt seemed like the only option.

The fabric falling just above your knee, not short enough to raise suspicions with your father, but short enough that when you bent over your ass and panties would be on full display.

And William noticed.

After the fifth time of you bending down to pick up something you had dropped—after your father had left the room—it didn’t take common sense or a genius such as himself to know what you were trying to do; his eyes lingering for half a second on your exposed ass when you slyly turned and saw the peak he took.

His jaw tightening, hand moving across his freshly shaven chin. A look of annoyance sat at the top of his brows. A look that should have deterred you but only made you more excited.

“Are you like this with all the guys, or just the ones you can’t fuck?” His tone matching the malice on his face, deep and hard. Gone is the calm joking he was doing with your father—before your father had left for the store, before he had left you alone with him, before your heart was pounding out of your chest and your neck was aching from his grip.

“Not like this with anyone,” you whimper. “Only you.” Your eyes look up at his innocently.

“Have I given you any indication that I want this? That I have to ignore your blanted advances because you see nothing wrong with trying to tease me with your father right there,” his grip tightens in your hair making you wince. “Have I given any indication that I want to fuck you?”

“I–”

His other hand grabs your chin, the hold so hard it squishes your cheeks, your mouth hangs open in pain from the bruising indent of his fingers. “What was your end goal here? For me to betray your dad, my best friend, for you?” His mouth moves closer to your face, the intention meant to be scary, frightening—your insides were still preening from it. “Is your pussy that good, sweetheart?”

Your body is burning too hot, too fast, too real for you to answer. To feel anything but the sting at the back of your head, the fear coated in desire of him being so close, and his searing his words to your insides.

It’s not like you meant for the attraction for your dad's best friend to happen. For it to blossom from an innocent crush to his face being the only one you can get off to at night. The more you learnt about the things William did, the more he came around, the more he ignored your innocently-enough-flirtations, the more you wanted him.

And the less it seemed he was interested in you.

A constant deadpan scowl on his face when you’d enter the room each time he was at your house. Your little game more than apparent. Like he could read you like he did his cards.

It should have stopped you. Should have let you know how wrong it was to lust over your dad's best friend for christ sakes; for a man like William Tell. A man who's seen and done ugly things.

But those fleeting glances, no matter how dark they were—no matter how passive he would seem—something about them edged you on. Had you coming back for more.

Were you worth betraying your father over? Was fucking you worth that?

You didn’t know. The right answer was lost on you while the wrong one made your thighs press together.

“Suddenly so quiet. I thought this is what you wanted. My attention.” His mouth hovers closer to yours, the proximity stealing your breath from your lungs. His eyes hone in on your trembling lips, his voice low and just above a whisper when he speaks again. “Do I scare you?”

“No,” you get out smoothly. Your stomach sinking when you see him smirk, eyebrows raised. Almost as if he’s impressed. Like he’s enjoying this as much as you.

You don’t realize just how much he’s enjoying this until he’s pulling you by the hair over to the couch, your backside brushing against his front, a brief touch that shows you that he’s hard right now—the grip in your hair pulls taught one last time before he’s pushing you down hard onto one of the cushions.

Sitting himself across from you on the coffee table, forearms resting on his thighs, hands together as he says, “show me that your pussy is worth it.” The tip of his shoe kicks at your ankles, making you spread your thighs for him. Your skirt coming up on its own. “Plead.”

#william tell x reader #william tell smut #william tell #oscar isaac smut #william tell x you #oscar isaac x reader #the card counter smut #william tell x y/n #oscar isaac x you #william tell fic #the card counter #the card counter fic #william tell imagine #william tell fanfic #kinktober #kinktober 2022

[cissa-calls]

Countdown to Coven of Chaos: Day 528

Wanda: “We’re here!! It’s time to get some paperwork done!”

Agatha: “Paperwork?! You said we were going to the cat cafe”

Y/N: *jiggles the car door handle* “NO WE’RE TRAPPED PLEASE”

Wanda: “I was gonna say we can just go afterwards but how else was I supposed to corral you into this?”

Y/N: “Maybe just ask us?”

Wanda: “And would you have simply agreed?”

Agatha and Y/N:….

Agatha: “Betrayal. A dish best served cold”

Wanda: “Yeah, your mother knows that more than anyone”

Agatha: “HEY SHE BETRAYED ME”

#Wanda pulling the your mom card? more likely than you think #wandavision #agatha harkness #house of harkness #agatha all along #hahndavision #house of harkness counter #marvel #wanda maximoff #agatha harkness x reader #wanda maximoff x reader

[psychedelic-ink]

kinktober '22 ║ XXII

pairing: william tell x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni

word count: 538

summary: William Tell is a dangerous man. You should’ve known better than to piss him off. 

warnings: pussy slapping, dom!william, dirty talking, the use of slut, oral (receiving)

MLISTS .  LIBRARY. TAGLIST . KINKTOBER '22

William Tell is a dangerous man. You should’ve known better than to piss him off. 

You’re completely bare from the waist down, your baggy shirt is rolled all the way up to your neck, exposing the rest of your body. Your one leg is thrown over his shoulder, fingers biting into the back of your thigh. When he meets your gaze, a shudder claws up your spine and settles at the back of your neck, the tips of your fingers tingling with fear and anticipation. You can feel yourself clenching around nothing, wetness grows between your legs, slick glistening between your folds. 

“Is this what you fucking want?” he asks eerily calm. “Me, exposing the filthy whore that you are?” 

You moan at his words, head falling back, your chest heaves. Heat blossoms across your skin when you imagine all the things he was capable of. The pain. The pleasure. You want it all. His fingers delve in between your folds, he feels how wet you are and clicks his tongue with annoyance. 

“No shame,” he groans. “I’m not even doing anything and you’re ready for my cock,” 

“P-Please,” 

His hand slices through the air, pain spreading across your throbbing cunt. You scream at the ache, tears quickly building in your eyes. Another slap follows and you cry out his name, he’s not holding back, you can feel the sizzling hurt slithering up your body, taking refuge in your stomach. But despite the pain you feel between your legs, you feel yourself soaking the sheets underneath. The palm of his hand smooths over your cunt, tutting as if you were a helpless little girl. 

“Look at you, two slaps and you’re a mess already. You know this is punishment right? You’re not supposed to enjoy it,” 

“I’m not–” 

Another slap follows, you cry out, a hoarse moan following soon after. He doesn’t stop, each hit harder than the other, quicker– The wet sound your cunt provides becomes louder and louder. You writhe in his grip, his grip on your thigh like iron. Your sharp cries shift into gasp and strangled moans. You’ve lost count of how many slaps, but he finally allows you a moment of relief when he slowly caresses your abused cunt. 

“Seems to me that you do enjoy it, sweetheart,” he says, voice dropping after each word. “Now I want you to count,” 

“W-What?” 

“Count them. We’ll start with ten,” 

“I-I can’t take it,” 

He stills for a moment, then continues when you don’t utter the safeword. 

“You should’ve thought about that before being a brat,” his hand deserts you, leaving you cold and lonely. “Now, count with me: one…” 

“O-One,” 

Your voice is shaky, your throat becoming more sore after every smack. When you finally reach ten, you’re shaking, tears rolling down your cheeks as you whimper his name, begging him to smooth the pain. Much to your surprise he does. You shudder at the way his tongue ghosts above the hurt, numbing the ache between your legs. It doesn’t take him long to rip your orgasm out of you, leaving you breathless and worn out. 

“So good to me,” he mutters into the inside of your thigh. “Let’s get you all cleaned up.” 

kinktober tags: @tusk89 , @amneris21 , @witchisenpai , @pedrito-friskito , @tom-whore-dleston , @lola766 , @batdarkladyvampir , @dindjarinswhore , @dnxgma , @eyelessfaces , @queenofthefaceless , @softtdaisy , @saintlike78 , @timpletance , @xdaddysprincessxx , @stardust-galaxies , @spacecowboyhotch, @queenofthecloudss , @prettyouttherethoughts , @reaperofmen , @partr1dge , @bbyanarchist , @alwaysdjarin , @thevoiceinyourheadx , @absurdthirst , @levi-llama , @damnyoupedro , @stardust-galaxies , @all-the-way-down-here , @welcometostayingawake, @bullet-prooflove , @rainbowcreepie

#william tell x y/n #william tell x reader #william tell x you #william tell fanfiction #the card counter fic #the card counter fanfiction #oscar isaac characters masterlist #oscar isaac characters x reader #oscar isaac characters

[oscarisaacsspit]

#the way i could elaborate on this #but it’s probably better if i don’t #all that ass good god almighty #u ever been jealous of a phone?? #oscar isaac #oscar isaac hernandez estrada #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x you #moon knight #scenes from a marriage #jonathan levy #the two faces of january #rydal keener #the card counter #william tell #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #me #there is so much that is so right #thinks ab ****** *** in silence #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight imagine #jonathan levy x reader #ethnic hips #my post

[ninebluehearts]

Hey !! i hope you are well ? i wanted to know if you can write an alphabet sfw with william tell ? Ps: I love your work 💕

Hi!! I'm pretty good! I hope you're doing well too! Thank you so much! You don't know how happy it makes me when people actually like my writing 😭💕 thank you for this ask! It's my first alphabet list, so bear with me 😂💕

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

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?):

I think that William wouldn't be very affectionate at first. He's been through a lot and just doesn't seem like the type of person to really crave another's touch. But once he realized how much being physical meant to you, he'd slowly get better at doing it. His favorite way to show you affection is to hug you from behind while you're cooking.

B = Best Friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How did the friendship start?):

He would be that one bff that reply's quickly at first, then suddenly disappears for two days.

The friendship started in a casino. After watching him win seven rounds of poker in one sitting, you had asked him to show you his ways. After that, you spent the night talking about a million other things and exchanged phone numbers.

C = Cuddle (Do they like to cuddle? How do they cuddle?):

Again, he's not a very touchy-feely kinda guy, so cuddling is another thing he struggles with. He likes to have his routine: wrap sheets around everything, play a quick round of cards, then lay on his back with his hands folded over and chest to fall asleep. But now that he's trying with you, he's okay with you curling up against his side with his arm around you. He would never admit it, but he also likes to be the little spoon sometimes.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they with cooking and cleaning?):

I don't think he'd be apposed to marriage. He may think that it's kind of basic and unnecessary, but when you talk about it with him, he doesn't mind the idea of it. He said that kids might be a bit much, but that he would keep an open mind.

He's a very clean guy, we all know that. So he's great with cleaning. Cooking is eh to him, he doesn't mind doing it, but he prefers if you do it.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?):

Not gonna lie, I think he'd do it in the middle of a fight. You guys would be arguing for the millionth time this week and he would throw and his hands up and say "you know what? I'm done." Then pack up his things and go. He'd even block your number.

F = Fiancé (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?):

Again, he's not apposed to marrying you, but he wanted to wait until the right time to propose. Like when you're both financially stable and you both feel like your relationship is secure enough.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?):

I think you're the only person in the world he's gentle with. He likes to gently rub your back from time to time, or even just holding your hips and guiding you in another direction when you're in his way. Emotionally though.. he tries his best to communicate in a way that doesn't make him sound like a jackass, but sometimes he'll word things wrong and ends up making you cry. He always apologizes and tries to fix it, but it's another thing he's working on.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

After awhile, he's great with hugs. He let's you initiate them 99% of the time though. I think his hugs would be very comforting; he wraps his arms around your waist and presses you against him, using just the right amount of pressure to where you're not gonna suffocate, but you feel secure.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L word?):

Well, you said it eight months into the relationship and he disappeared for a week- It's not that he doesn't love you, it's just that he's scared because you love him. He's probably start saying it back around the two year mark of your relationship.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?):

Omfg does this man get jealous- whew, he gets pissed when he's jealous. He gets very quiet for awhile turning the situation around over and over again in his head. You had been talking to a coworker that was getting a little too flirty and boy, he didn't like that. I think he would firmly wrap his arm around your waist and walk you back to your table, barely talking for the rest of the night.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?):

His kisses would be soft, but they toe the line of being too firm. He loves to kiss you along the length of your arm; kinda like Gomez does to Mortisha in Addams Family. Omg he loves it when you kiss him on his forehead.

L = Little ones (How are they with kids?):

He's pretty okay with kids. He couldn't babysit them by himself, but he doesn't mind them. He only hates it if they start scream-crying.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?):

Eh, they're okay. He's super eager to get up and start the day, so he only let's you guys stay in bed and cuddle for five minutes each morning.

N = Night (What are nights like with them?):

Nights are better than mornings. He's traded out that quick card game to watch a movie/show with you. He likes to sit on the couch and watch whatever you put on while drinking a beer and having you cuddled up on him under the blankets. It's his favorite way to relax now.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they reveal everything all at once or do they wait awhile to reveal things slowly?):

Honestly? He would be pretty open immediately. Not about the deep stuff, like his childhood, but he would often times go into detail about the things he'd seen in prison.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?):

He gets angered kind of easily, but he has a good pokerface, so you usually don't know that he's angry until he either explodes or gets really quiet.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you remember in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?):

He remembers everything. You're actually shocked that he doesn't have some book about you somewhere. A year ago you told him that you didn't like vanilla ice cream and to this day he never buys you ice cream that has anything to do with vanilla.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment from your relationship?):

Your first kiss. Sure, it's kind of basic, but it's his favorite because it was the moment both of you really connected and started falling for each other. He never told you, but the minute your lips pressed against his, he knew he loved you.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?):

He's very protective. He's not annoying about it, but he does watch you a lot. You'll be sitting at a bar playing on your phone while he plays a game of poker, and he somehow manages to keep track of the game and look back at you every three minutes. He doesn't want you to protect him, he says that it's his job to take care of both of you. But when he wakes up in the middle of the night to you holding him as close as you can, he can't help but feel safe, like you're somehow protecting him in your sleep. He just loves it.

T = Try (How much effort do they put into gifts, holidays, anniversary's etc?):

He puts a good bit of effort into getting you a present he knows you'll love. It's almost always jewelry, but it's all the stuff you like: small and simple. He also like to get you a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

U = Ugly (What are some bad habits of theirs?):

Ugh, the gambling. Sure, he wins most of the time, but when he told you he lost over 500 dollars, you thought you were gonna kill him.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?):

He likes to look good: neat and precise. He shaves as often as he needs to and makes sure his shirt matches his pants. Nothing too extreme.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?):

Yes. If you weren't there, he'd be a bit clueless and lonely. Really, he wouldn't know what to do with himself. He'd probably spend more time at the casinos.

X = Xtra (A random hc for them):

His favorite show is Rick and Morty. If he is in a bad mood and needs a good laugh, he'll put it on while he practices with his cards.

Y = Yuck (What are somethings they wouldn't like, in general or in a partner?):

In general, he hates it when people dip their eggs in ketchup. He thinks it's absolutely disgusting. In a partner, he wouldn't date anyone who is unhygienic or unorganized. He couldn't deal with it honestly.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?):

This motherfucker snores so bad. You've had to wake him up and roll him over quite a few times because you just can't sleep.

#william tell #the card counter #sfw alphabet #william tell x reader #william tell head cannons #william tell hc #the card counter hc #💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙thoughts #thank you for the ask!

[katarina-catalina]

guys this is super important!! Why is there nothing on William Tell?? I mean have you seen handsome?? so please I beg you write imagines, heedcanons, fic anything about him!! it's starvation and he doesn't deserve it!!

#Oscar isaac #jonathan levy #jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #oscar isaac x you #william tell x reader #oscar isaac moon knight #oscar isaac x y/n #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac hernandez estrada #william tell #the card counter #moon knight #moon knight x reader

[dravidious]

-

Oh gosh the Simic are gonna need so much fucking ramp to keep up with this thing

#asks #as long as you can pay you can draw SO MANY CARDS #something that feels a little bad is that if you put too many counters on a creature you might not be able to pay so you'll get nothing #i think wording similar to Shanna Purifying Blade would be better #but anyway this thing has ridiculous potential to draw SO MANY CARDS #just like shanna #except you don't even need to cast life gain spells during the turn you pay x so you have even more mana left to DRAW MORE CARDS #use with incubator tokens or hydras and such #combine with plenty of protection spells to keep the kitty safe #and you have a very powerful card draw engine #hydras even work great with the ramp you need to keep up with the costs and draw #you will never run out of cards #also wow i can't believe you got The inflation to draw the art #i hear their commission prices have gotten really high recently #you know #because of #no i shan't say #custom cards

[boredzillenial]

Attitude Adjustment

A friend of your fathers pays you an unexpected visit you aren’t likely to forget.

Themes: dbf!william, mentions of alcoholism, dub-con, mainly brat taming by any means necessary (spanking, slapping, fingering,etc)

Word Count: 3,012

Authors note: proof read on a phone lol, If peeps like this I’ll make a continuation!!

You were aware of Williams existence in the way that most people assume their parents have friends. You knew they served together overseas, and the many nights your father spent drunkly watching trash tv told you it most likely was not a pleasant tour of duty. You also knew like clockwork growing up that you could sneak out with a couple of shots in your belly and see your friends most nights.

You grew up rough, and without a mother and a constantly drunken father you grew up with a mouth like a sailor and the attitude of a grown man. After some time apart from him and a bit of therapy you’d just started to get “better” but there was a deep anger and attitude toward your father you just hadn’t managed to shake. So you were surprised that out of the blue your father had arranged to meet you in Vegas for some “quality time”, but that he had not arrived at the hotel yet and it had been several hours.

Finally you heard a knock at your door, but when you make your way over and look through the peephole you see a vaguely familiar face. “William?” You say confused as you open the door.

“Hey, sorry I’m surprised you remembered.” He puts on a forced smile.

You furrow your brow and cock your head to the side, “Is there a reason you’re at my door?” You ask bluntly.

“Ah, there it is.” He smiles a bit more honestly and looks you in your eyes when he asks “Mind if I come in?”

“A bit,” you say as you begin to close the door, starting to get annoyed by his presence. As you go to shut it there is a firm stop and you see his knuckles around the edge of the door.

He pushes, gently but firmly and steps inside, closing the door behind him. “Your father asked me to come talk to you.” He said as walks further in and sat his bags down on the desk near the bed.

“Oh you’re making yourself comfortable, great.” You say and toss your hands a bit, walking over and sitting on the armchair. “Well alright let’s get it over with.” You cross your arms.

He opens a bag and pulls out a white sheet, neatly and methodically tucking it over the bedding then sitting down on it and matching your stance as he crosses his thick forearms.

“What’s with the sheet?” You nod at it.

“We’ll get to that -“

“What’s he want you to talk to me about?” You say curtly.

He laughs and looks down at the floor “We’ll get to that too. If you don’t interrupt” he raises a brow and looks up at you.” You put your hands up in a gesture of peace and sink further in the chair. “Well, when was the last time you really spoke with him.”

“It’s been a few years, I’m sure he’s told you all about it.” You say very matter of factly. “Then emailed me with plane tickets and a booking reservation for this place out of the blue.”

“He has -“ he nodded “he told me you’re very angry, and bitter.” He stares at you waiting for your response.

You chuckle “That’s one way to put it.”

“He also told me, that he knows he fucked up -” He leans forward, putting his forearms on his knees to stare directly into your eyes “Look I’ve known him for a long time. And I know when last we spoke, the fear in his eyes was real.” He strained.

“Fear?” You questioned.

“Fear of losing you. Fear that you’ll hate him forever. That you’ll walk around with this bad attitude and a chip on your shoulder for the rest of your life.” He clenched his jaw.

Your heartbeat sped up at his directness “Ah so he had you come down here for what, a quick therapy session hmm? Some sort of fucked up come-to-Jesus meeting?!” You stand as your anger builds at the audacity. “You know what you can leave, I’m not doing this.” You move to walk towards the door and his arm shoots out across your shoulders stopping you in your tracks.

“Stay, please” his voice strained as if he was struggling to remain pleasant. The shear intensity of his eyes, the set of his jaw, you back up quickly and sit back in the chair. He lets out a low sigh and pinches his brow. “Alright look, your father didn’t actually set any of this up or send me. I… I did. I decided to come talk with you after I saw him a week or so ago.”

You raise a brow, “So what is this exactly. What’s your goal here.” You lean forward in the chair, “Did you think you could just force yourself into my hotel room and make me forgive him? That one short conversation would fix years of issues?!” Your voice began to raise as the pain from the past began welling up.

He watched silently as you continued, his deep brown eyes softening a bit. “You really think you can fix any of what he’s done? Or the years of shit he didn’t do?” Tears well up in your eyes as the anger sends your heart thundering in your chest. He kneels down in front of your chair and puts his hands on your knees in an attempt to steady you. You look away from him, anger building now at the look of pity in his eyes.

He grabs your chin gently and turns your head to face him. He looks deeply in your eyes as he says “I can never make it right. I can never prevent that pain from happening or apologize for him.” You shake your head out of his grasp and scowl as hot tears fall down your face. He sighs and continues, “But what I would like to do is help you release. Help you learn to let go so you can live without anger eating you up inside.” You move to stand he places a hand on your chest to stop you. Something shift in his eyes at your attempt “I’m gonna help you whether you like it or not.” He growls.

“Who the fuck do you think you are.” You growl in return and grab his wrist to move his hand but it doesn’t budge.

He smirks “I’m so glad you asked.” He backs up and stands. “I’m the one whose gonna fix that attitude. And I’ve got a few ways to do it.” He takes a step back and reaches into his bag. He pulls out rope, a paddle, and of all things a vibrator.

You freeze and look at the items he’s laid methodically on the bed. “You can’t be fucking serious…” you say breathlessly as you stare at the vibrator and feel the heat in your body rising.

“Oh I’m dead serious.” He smirks “You’ll learn to let go one way or another… So, if you don’t talk with me. We’ll have to resort to my alternative methods.” He looks down at his tools with a smirk for a moment, and you take that moment to bolt for the door. You hear him let out a grunt and his footsteps thud as he quickly wraps his arms around your waist and hoists you up. You kick like crazy and go to scream before he throws you on the bed and clamps a hand over your mouth. “None of that.” He glares “I do have a gag, don’t make me use it…”

You freeze, the look in his eyes deadly serious as he keeps his hand clamped over your mouth. “Now, I think for that little stunt you’ve already earned a little something… Have you ever been spanked before?” He says softly. Fear spreads across your face as you shake your head slowly. “Of course you haven’t.” He scoffs.

“I’m gonna sit on the bed and you’re gonna bend over my lap. Do not try to scream or run again or things are gonna get a lot more difficult for you. Understood?” He nearly growls just inches from your face. You nod slowly and he releases the grip from around your mouth. He stands, looking you over for a moment before nodding and sitting beside you on the bed. “Come on.” He pats his lap.

You remain where you are as you look at him. Processing whether he really meant what he said when he threatened things would get worse if you run. The smirk on his face told you everything you needed to know. You took a deep breath to steady yourself and shimmied off the bed. You stood and adjusted your clothes for a moment as you looked down at him. His eyebrow raised in challenge, almost daring you to try to make a run for it again. You take a deep breath and go to take a step but everything is screaming inside of you to run for the door.

“Here…” he pats his lap again staring you down. You don’t move, your heart thunders in your chest as your eyes lock on his lap. “Now!” His order jolted you out of your momentary trance. You grit your teeth and awkwardly lean across his lap, unsure in your movements. You let out a sigh as you settle across his lap. “Was that so hard?” He said, the softness of his voice contrasting the shout from before. “You’re gonna count -“

“How many -“ you begin to ask then SMACK, his hand comes down on your rear, the soft pj pants doing nothing to protect you from the sting. Tears well up and you bite your fist to stop from crying out.

“Stop. Interrupting… You’re gonna count after every one. I’ll stop when I say we’re done. Now, because of your interruption you lose these.” He yanks your pj pants down to your knees. Exposing the fresh sting to the cold hotel air. You squeeze your eyes shut as you realize what he’s seeing. “Going commando huh?” He chuckles. “That’s make this much more interesting…” he SMACKS your other cheek, this time you can’t stop the yelp that jumps out of your throat.

“Two.” You whimper.

“Oh no, that first one was just for me. This is one and this -“ he smack again “is two.” You curl over his lap and can’t help but wiggle as the sting sets in. You feel a firm hand run up your back over your shirt. Fingers intertwine with the hair at the nape of your neck and your head is pulled back so you are looking at him. “Don’t. Struggle…” he moves your head back down to focus on the pattern in the hotel carpet as he continues to deal out your punishment. You manage to count to 8 before tears are falling steadily and you could feel wetness gathering at your core.

He tuts and gently runs his hand over the raised handprints on your rear and you lurch away and yell at the radiating pain. “Shhh shhh. These stung but they won’t bruise. You’ll be sore for about 24 hours and you’ll be fine.” He says softly as he moves his hand to run up and down your back. You can feel him lean to inspect his work. “Oh.” You hear the surprise in his voice. He moves his hand from your back to your rear and pulls you apart “would you look at that.” He chuckles as you feel a finger run up your slick center. You gasp and look back at him in panic.

“Stay.” He says curtly as his fingers continue to explore. He swirls gently through your folds and down to your clit which drew out a groan and your legs flexed to try and close. He spanked your ass again and you winced “Stay…” his voice grew darker and you could feel the tightening of his pants against your stomach as he swirled around that bundle of nerves again. Another groan rumbles in your chest as he works and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“Good, just breathe.” He said softly as he moved up toward your slick opening. He sunk a finger deep inside causing you to gasp. “Shhh just breathe”. He cooed as his other hand rubbed your back. Your face grew hot and you felt confusion and shame bubble up as he worked his finger in and out of you slowly. He leaned toward your ear. “I think you’re ready for a couple more”. He said as he pulled his hand back then sunk three fingers deep into you.

You grit your teeth and whimper as he stretched you deliciously with his fingers. “You’re doing so well.” He praised as he continued as he shifted again to look at his working hand. “So tight-“ he rasped and that prodding at your stomach grew firmer as he adjusted his legs slightly. “I wanna feel you come on my hand.”

You crossed your arms and did your best to bury your face in your arms as he continues to pump his dexterous fingers into you. “P-please.” You stammer as your feelings conflicted between pleasure and shame.

“Please what,” he slowed down “what do you need.” He leaned back towards your face.

“I can’t… like this…” You weren’t sure how to explain to him you needed more attention at that bundle of nerves in order to meet his request.

“Ah I see. Stand up”. He pulled his fingers out of you and helped you stand. You tried to pull the hem of your shirt down as you stood with your lower half exposed infront of him. “You won’t need that”. He pulls and your top and sports bra come off in one swift motion. He took a moment to almost lean back as he took your naked form in. “Goddamnit” he sighed with a smirk. “Get on the bed.”

You moved quickly and winced as you sat down on the soft mattress and snapped your legs shut. His smirk remained as he shook his head. “Open, or I’ll do it for you…” he leaned toward you. Instinctively you attempt shimmy backward and wince again at the friction against your tender rear. He quickly grabs your ankles and yanks you to the edge of the bed. It feels as if it takes him very little of his strength to pry your knees apart, exposing your slick core to him.

You felt fear rise at the excitement in his eyes. He pulled you forward again so your ass was at the edge of the bed as he knelt down. You looked down at him as his eyes darkened and he lunged forward.

The heat of his tongue split you open and sent you reeling. You weren’t sure how he’d start but diving his tongue as deep as he could while nuzzling your clit with his nose what not what you expected. You arched and clung to the tight white sheet he put down as he continued.

Then as suddenly as he started he stopped. He looked up at you with a devilish grin as he wiped his face. “Couldn’t help it.” He chuckled as he adjusted so he was laying beside you. He ran his hand across your chest then up to your throat, gripping it firmly as he forced you to look into his eyes. “Your eyes stay right here. Understood?” He growled.

You gulped and nodded. His hand released from your throat and trailed down to your body. His eyes bore into yours as his fingers curled inside of you. First one, then another, finally stopping with three. You gasped and arched against him, his arm and fingers like steel as he continued keeping you in place. He began to slowly pump in and out of you. The addition of his thumb on your clit sent you reeling as you bit your lip and fought to keep your eyes open. “That’s right, eyes on me.” He rasped, a blush creeping his own face as his breathing became uneven.

He kept his eyes on yours as he adjusted to kneel on the bed beside you. He worked his fingers harder and began to play with your chest. Eliciting another groan as he grazed his other thumb over your sensitive peaks. This time you couldn’t help but to close your eyes to enjoy the sensations he was pulling from you. As you felt pleasure building you felt a stinging slap across your cheek and that firm grip around your throat. Your eyes shot open as he was leaning in to press his forehead against yours. “Eyes. On. Me.” He punctuated each word with a firm thrust of his fingers and your hips bucked in response.

“Y-yes…” you groan, your mind swimming with the tension that threatened to snap you in two.

He picked up to a punishing pace as he continued to stare you down. When you came you did so hard enough to nearly headbut him as you arched and writhed. But he kept his pace, his grip on your throat, and the press of his head against yours steady. Anchoring you in place. “Good, good girl. Let go, I’ve got you.” He encouraged as you rode wave after wave of pleasure. His pace slowed as you began to jump instead of writhe due to your oversensitive clit.

He pulled back and pulled his hand free from you. You and he both breathless and sweaty as he licked his fingers clean. Heat rose in you as you watched him close his eyes and hum at the taste of you on his hand. As he finished he looked back down at you with a smirk. “That was a good first step.” He chuckled.

“First step?” You questioned softly.

“Oh honey, this is gonna be a long night with many steps.” He chuckled, undoing his belt as you hear a loud zip.

—————

Masterlist

#william tell #the card counter #oscar isaac #William tell X reader #oscar isaac fanfiction #brat #bratlife #brat taming #william tell fanfiction #william tell fan fiction #the card counter fanfiction #the card counter fan fiction #william tell fic #the card counter fic #brat tamer William tell #William tell brat tamer #the card counter X reader #the card counter X you

[tonycries]

Bad Boys Bring Roses - G.S.

Synopsis. You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?

Pairing. Yakuza boss! Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, yakuza! au, fake marriage, annoyances to lovers, elders suck, mentioned k*lling (not reader or Satoru), Satoru is INSANE and SO down bad, one bed trope, praise, biting, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, flower language, kníves, bit dark, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 9.1k (whoopsies)

A/N. I just HAD to get this out of my mind like I wanna write an entire book series on this. Spent too long researching rose language as well so see if y’all catch that hehe.

You thought the wedding invitation was a joke when it had arrived - a delicate, lacey little card that you’ve probably read over a million times by now. It had been stuffed haphazardly into your mailbox, along with a ridiculously large bouquet of purple roses. Seemingly inconspicuous when you first tore into the thick envelope, wondering which one of your friends was getting married now. 

And it was - that is, until you saw your name at the very top - right where the blushing bride’s was supposed to be. 

We hereby formally invite you to the marriage of…

What? 

No return address. No date. No groom’s name either. Only yours, written in beautiful, golden writing - inviting you to your own wedding, exactly a week from now.

You remember perfectly the way you’d flipped it over and over in your hands, the gears turning in your head as you tried to crack down on the motive behind this invitation. A threat? A joke? Texting all of your friends about what a cute prank that was - only to get a shared confused reaction, and a few “April Fool’s has already passed, y’know.”

Hell, you’d even cornered the mailman, desperate to get to the bottom of this. But that wasn’t particularly helpful when he was only able to shake his head in protest, pale as a sheet, and trembling ever-so-slightly as he sped away from you. Weird. 

Without a clue as to who sent the letter, or even a follow-up in the days after, you stuffed the invitation somewhere deep in the back of your closet and handed the bouquet to your mother. Not bothering to tell your parents where it was from - because who’d worry over a stupid prank like this? It was probably one of the kids from down the street that’d gotten their grubby lil’ hands on a printer. 

You, however, had more important things to focus on - like trying to help your father revive his failing diner. It was a family business, a quaint, hearty little shop. One that was quickly, and dangerously, losing both customers and employees with the brand new fast food place that’d popped up right across the street. 

Which is why you found yourself here - working overtime on a Saturday night, looking over the empty chairs and stacks of boxes from behind the counter. Whatever, it was only a few weeks until relocation anyway.

You heave out a sigh, eyes flitting to the clock beside you - 11:21pm.

Nine minutes more, you drum your fingers in boredom, maybe you should just close up early. Because sure as hell no one else was-

“Oh? Still open?”

“Ah- Uh, yes, welcome!” Jolting out of your reverie, you stand up ramrod straight, taking in the customer standing at the door. He wasn’t one of the regulars - no, you think you’d remember if he was. Cloudy white hair, piercing blue eyes that twinkle from above his shades, even in the dim light of the diner. He was so very tall, taking up almost all of the doorframe, only getting more and more imposing as he walks up to you in quick, long strides. Magnetizing. 

And if you dared let your eyes wonder, you caught a few tattoos peeking out from his unfairly snug button-up, clashing with its flashy blue color. Dragons? Trees? Or were they flowers - roses?

“Roses.” the man in front of you answers your unspoken question, voice so very deep, and melodic - tinged with something playful in it that you wouldn’t have expected at first glance. At your raised brow he continues with a wink, “Could tell ya were checkin’ me out, sweetheart.”

“F-forgive my rudeness, sir.” you sputter, face burning. You look away from the way his muscled ripple as he crosses his arms, immediately turning to fumble with the menus, “Please take a seat and I’ll be there with you shortly.”

You’d expected him to take up a booth, or maybe head towards one of the good tables around the corner. What you did not expect was for him to plop down on the stool right in front of you, flashing you a playful grin before humming, “S’alright, m’just waitin’ for someone.”

Oh. Well, it made sense that someone like him would be taken. Swallowing, you hand over the menu, before giving him a close-lipped smile, “A lover?”

Resting his head on his palms, not bothering to even glance at the list of dishes before him. “My fiancée.”

“Congratulations, Mr…”

“Gojo Satoru.” he tilts his head, looking way too happy with himself. “Please, call me Satoru.” 

You nod softly, picking up your pen and notepad to get this conversation over with - and maybe to also avoid his heavy stare that made something hot and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. “Right, Mr-” at his disappointed whine, “Satoru. Congratulations, must be one heck of a thing to plan.”

“Oh I’m having fun with the wedding planning.” He waves off your words with a chuckle, missing - or pointedly ignoring - the way you were waiting for his order. “How’s it going for you?”

What?

You narrow your eyes at the way Satoru was batting those long lashes up at you, deceivingly innocent and waiting for your answer. “I’m sorry- Me? Did you mean with the diner relocation plans or-”

“No no no.” he laughs, loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say at someone interrupting you if you weren’t so mesmerized by that little dimple at the corner of his grin. One that moves as he plows on, “M’asking how wedding planning is going for you, wifey~”

There’s a beat of silence. One. Two. With you gaping at the pure audacity as Satoru quiets down to little titters, seemingly studying your reaction in amusement. Which slowly, but surely, drains from his face as you grit out a sharp, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir. We’re very busy and don’t have time to entertain your pick-up lines.”

Those widened blue eyes sweep the painfully empty diner, letting out a low whisper. “I can see that.” you let out a strangled noise of embarrassment at that. “But you’re really gonna ask your husband to leave?”

Huffing in frustration, “I don’t have a husband.”

“...you do.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. And who the fuck are you to tell me I do?”

“What?!” Satoru jumps out of his seat in shock, fast enough that the stool clatters to the floor with a deafening clang! Hands slamming on the counter as he leans over it - so close that you could feel his minty breath fanning your face with each hurried, shrill word that tumbles out of his lips. “What do you mean you don’t have a- I’m gonna kill those fuckin’- After I bought Canva premium just to make that invitation? Did the flowers come at least?”

And while Satoru is panicking, words spilling out of his mouth a mile a minute - only one of those rings in your mind - invitation. 

“You.” you hiss, barely audible over meltdown in front of you. Pointing a finger accusingly, “You’re the one behind that prank with the dumbass roses.”

That seems to snap Satoru out of his dramatic monologue - and you’re glad it did. Because he looks up to meet your glare, “Hey! You didn’t like the roses?” 

And for the first time, you see Satoru more serious than he’d been ever since stepping into this diner. Eyes somewhere behind you, ablaze and almost…frightening. “Didn’t you ask him?” 

You whirl around to see your father, who’d apparently rushed downstairs at the commotion. Baseball bat to fight off the intruder hanging in midair as he stands frozen, taking in the scene before him - but more importantly, that man in front of him. “You.”

---

And, well, it’s not everyday that you’re having late night tea with your parents and one of your father’s…business associates. Even rarer when said business associate is…you gulp, praying to whoever’s above that this is all some sick dream you’ll wake up any second from. 

“So, let me get this straight…” you sigh, pinching your nose in frustration. It’s been an hour or two of trying to understand whatever this was. Giving a stern look at the two men squirming across from you in the booth. “My father was conned by one of your-” you gesture your head at Satoru, which only makes his smirk grow, “-men to take a loan from your um-”

“Family, yakuza. Anything goes.” he supplies helpfully.

You wave him off, trying as quickly as possible to brush off the ‘yakuza’ bit that makes your stomach lurch. “And now he owes you a favor of…what exactly?”

Satoru leans across the table, t-shirt opening tantalizingly. Voice dropping to an almost-pleading murmur, “Look, I just need you to pretend to be my doting, loving, charming, gorgeous-” backtracking at your withering glare, “...Anyway. I just need a fake wife for a few months, convince my family to get off my back about arranged marriage n’ carrying the Gojo legacy. Then bam! you stomp all over my heart, we divorce and I’m too heartbroken to ever get married again. Easy.” 

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

You bet Satoru’s disappointed groan echoed across all 23 words of Tokyo, because it was definitely ringing in your ears amongst whirlwind thoughts of marriage? To a yakuza? Completely, and utterly ridiculous. And from his talks of “carrying the family name” it seemed like he was some sort of future head as well. Though, he definitely wasn’t acting like it right now. 

“Alright. Plan B, then.” 

Oh? You couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t that much of a manchild as sits up from where he’d been splayed all over the table in tragedy. Lacing his fingers together before turning to your father, continuing in a more diplomatic tone, “But I want the cash you took. In full. Now. Gonna hafta disguise my best friend as my wife, n’ dresses for a six foot man aren’t cheap.”

Your mother looked like she could faint right then and there. Choking out a noise of surprise, “B-but we’ve deposited it all for the relocation- Please, can’t we pay any other-”

At the firm shake of his head, you stammer, “Now? Aren’t you some yakuza nepo baby, can’t you just ask your parents for money?”

“No.” Satoru chuckles, in a tone which told you that he probably could but might just lose his head for it. Only further supported as he muses, “Not unless I want a finger cut off for dealin’ money on the side. Seriously, sweetheart, why did you think I sent you the invitation last week?”

“Take me instead.” you father cries, trying to negotiate above Satoru’s half-joking mutters of “Ugh, I’m not into ol’ men dumb enough to sign yakuza contracts.”

It was all too much. You couldn’t take out the relocation deposit - it was a new start, possibly the only thing to save your family. Nor do you have enough in savings to pay back the loan. And if Satoru’s warning was anything to listen to, then you knew that dealing with the yakuza could be dangerous. Why you? Why you? Why you? 

“Fine.”

The moment that word leaves your lips, it’s like the whole world freezes. Everyone in the room - including yourself - unsure of whether they heard you right. “I’ll do it.” you clarify, voice hesitant but firm. Eyeing the way Satoru’s eyes begin to sparkle, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips. Raising a finger to shush your father’s protests, “But for a month, until we leave this place. After that m’going with my family and you’re never to contact us ever again. Deal?”

And oh Satoru seemed over the moon, reaching out to grasp your hand in a handshake - so warm, and softer than you’d imagined. “Swear on m’life, wifey. You can kill me if not.”

He was so intimidating - and intimidatingly exhilarating.

Only an hour more of arguing and a quick phone call later, men - yakuza, you assume - were flooding your family’s little diner. All tattooed and burly, looking somewhat comical as they carried your few packed-up suitcases outside. Well, at least they stayed for a late dinner. 

And ended up being witnesses to a very rushed, very rushed signing of marriage agreements. Evidence to really show up your alleged marriage. It barely even lasted a few minutes before, well, that was that - you were married, to the son of a yakuza head. 

You say a quick goodbye to your teary parents, soothing them with promises of “I’ll be back before you know it. One month. That’s all.” 

“And don’t worry about a thing,” Satoru sing-songs, coming up behind you. “If there’s anyone she’s safe with, it’s me.”

“You better keep your mitts off of my baby.” your father warns, raising the baseball bat still clutched in his hand menacingly. 

“I won’t lay a hand on her, father-in-law. And anyone that even thinks about it…” he cackles, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll kill.”

Prancing off to hold the door of that shiny black Mercedes parked outside open for you. “Ladies first.”

With another quick hug to your parents, you hastily make your way inside. Feeling extremely out of place amongst the overly luxurious interior in your slightly-stained work uniform. God, the covers on these cushions themselves probably cost more than your house. 

“Like the car? I can buy you one. Or four, as a wedding gift.” Satoru grins. 

Oh, right. You weren’t in here alone - you were here with your new…husband. The word felt so strange to even wrap your head around, instead you turn to meet his easy smile. Clenching your jaw as you grit out, “So how do we act m-married?”

You swear he brightens up impossibly, scooting closer to you on the seat. Heart lurching as he raises his eyes to meet yours, dizzy with the heat of his proximity, he promptly pulls out his Notes app. 

“Well, you see. I forgot to send this with the invitation so you better memorize this before we get home.” flashing you a long, long list of likes and dislikes, “Here’s my favorite color and my favorite Digimon and-”

That car ride could not have been longer. Because in addition to arguing with Satoru about who the best Digimon was, you had to fill out your own version of his overly extensive list. “So we can be foolproof.” he’d whined. And you’d been so engrossed in the process that you barely noticed the looming estate out the window.

“We’re here, young master and madam Gojo.”

It took a second to register that the driver was talking to you as well as Satoru, immediately pushing your face against the window to take in the scenic site before you. Heavy wooden doors - probably taller than an average house - opening to reveal sprawling gardens. Koi ponds and rose bushes lining a pathway that led to a traditional Japanese house - all power and glory. You half wondered whether you were still in Tokyo. 

“Home sweet home.” Satoru grunts. “Such a beautiful hell, huh?”

Your home, for the next month. At least. 

And if you had any doubt that Satoru was in fact the future yakuza head, that all went out the window at the welcome you got. Men lining the wooden hallway, bowing at the waist while your all-new husband wraps a hand around your shoulders, pointing out the various rooms and ornaments as he led you in. 

“-and this is going to be our room.” he brings you in front of a large tatami room, one the size of your entire diner. 

“Ours.” you repeat. Walking unhurriedly to the king-sized bed in the middle - the only bed. Heart pounding as you take it all in. 

“Ours.” Satoru echoes, happily. And if he was any bit as affected as you are, then he doesn’t show it, instead pulling out a blue yukata from the closet, a golden Gojo emblem stamped on the back. Made with such a pretty, delicate fabric that it made you shiver to think how much it cost. “Now, I had these made jus’ for you last week. You can give me a lil’ fashion show tomorrow, so make sure you get some rest, wifey.”

It’s only when he says the word “rest” that you realize exactly how tired you are. Your long shift and the entirety of this having your eyes feeling heavier than usual. 

“Um…” you start, risking a glance at the bed. 

Satoru jolts, “Ah- don’t worry, sweetheart. You take the bed.” beginning to saunter outside to meet his team. “Got some work, so I’ll be sleeping in my office. Dream of me~”

And, really, you almost felt bad splaying yourself out on the crisp navy sheets. Sinking into the heady smell of fabric softener, and something so so Satoru. Addictive. Like an expensive cologne that made your head spin, one that wafted through your mind as you dreamt of summer weddings, and blue, blue skies.

“Ichiji.”

“Yes, young master.”

“See to it that the madam is safe. Anyone try anything funny and you bring them back alive. I wanna be the one to play with them, okay~?”

“Of course, young master.”

---

Admittedly, you probably have the best sleep of your life at the Gojo estate- or, it would’ve been if your husband didn’t burst in every morning at 7am. Handing you a ridiculously big bouquet of white roses, straight from the garden, before dragging you outside. 

Milling about the estate, Satoru was never too far behind, chattering away. Letting you hold onto his strong arm crossing the bridges, occasionally having you show up to yakuza meetings as his plus one. Relishing in the rumors spreading all through the yakuza syndicates in Tokyo. Gojo Satoru, and the commoner wife he’d do anything for.

Weirdly enough, some strange little part of you thinks he puts in a lot more work than necessary for some pretend relationship…

“I think that stupid plan is really working, y’know.” you muse to him after a few days of this. Dipping your fingers into one of your favorite koi ponds with a nod at the figures watching you from a distance - Gojo clan elders, you assume. “Those old coots hate being within a five mile radius of me.”

Satoru huffs out a laugh, “That so? S’probably the method acting then, huh? Taking good care of me, wifey?” he wiggles his eyebrows, nudging you from where he was holding an umbrella beside you. 

Furrowing your brows mockingly, “S’funny for you to say, they don’t even look at me. But they follow me around everywhere.”

“Do they annoy you, must I do my duty as a husband and gouge their eyes out?”

He…didn’t sound like he was joking. 

Rolling your eyes, you pointedly ignoring the way your heart lurches at the word “husband.” Still so jumpy at the idea. “Speaking of, your parents give up the marriage proposals, yet?”

At this, Satoru clenches his jaw. “Still nagging, but they’re finally considering you as my actual bride rather than some hijink.” he spits out, seemingly recalling whatever conversation they’d had before. “And they want to have some family ‘dinner’, but it’s going to be awful and you don’t-”

“Let’s go.” you interrupt, nodding determinedly. “The realer this marriage seems, the faster we can divorce, no?”

He blinks at you slowly, “That’s…true. For the divorce, then?”

“For the divorce.”

And, well, that was settled - you were to meet your new in-laws. The ever-elusive heads of the Gojo clan. Also one of the most powerful yakuza in all of Japan, but, semantics really.

You spend the evening cooped up with Satoru in the library, poring over the bloody history of the yakuza - with the Gojo’s heading them all. The only time he actually leaves your side is a few hours before the dinner. 

“For you.” he’d murmured, lips ghosting your ear, slipping something cold onto your finger. You look down to see one of the most beautiful rings you’ve ever seen - gold, with delicate blue and white diamonds encrusting it, cut in the shape of roses. “Can’t be married without a wedding ring, huh? Think of it as a good luck charm for tonight.”

And with that he’s swept away in a flurry of bodyguards and ruffled men, and you’re left standing there all alone. Cheeks burning, wondering how the hell he knew your perfect fit. 

You worry longer about the dinner than you spend actually preparing for it. Though, that’s probably because of the group of stylists that come into your room to help you dress. Wordlessly fussing around you despite your weak attempts at conversation, eyes averted. Almost like they were…scared of you. 

But there wasn’t much time to think of that - not when you’re being marched off in the direction of what you remember Satoru had called the family dining room. “More like a fuckin’ meeting room for those hardasses.” he’d snarked.

The moment you step in, all eyes turn to you - the only ones you recognize being Satoru’s, who immediately stands with a smile. “Ah, wifey! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” pulling you into a tight hug. His voice drops into a low, raspy murmur in your ear, “Ya look fuckin’ gorgeous in my colors, y’know.”

Traitorously, jolts of electricity run down your spine. Especially at how fucking gorgeous he looked in traditional wear. Whispering back, “Playing up the doting husband bit, huh?”

“Only for you.”

Pulling away, you drink in his dangerously handsome state. Hair so effortlessly styled, tattoos winking at you from just above his yukata - blue, to match yours. So pretty.

Stammering out, “Corny.”

“Only for-”

“Now that the girl is finally here, may we begin with dinner?” A stained voice sounds from behind Satoru, old and tinged with a tone that years of customer service told you did not bode well. Craning your head, you look over his broad shoulders, meeting the eyes of several disapproving elders. 

Shit. Some of the most dangerous people in this country right now. 

Gathered here - for you. 

Automatically, you knew which ones were his parents - painfully upright, and hauntingly beautiful in a cold, calculated way. Sat right at the head of the long table. With a jolt, you realize that you two are seated right opposite them. 

“So.” his mother starts, as you take your seat with a bow. Satoru doesn’t waste any time on niceties, plopping down right next to you, scooting closer than necessary. “Congratulations on the…wedding, my son.”

My son. You ignore the way both parents pointedly avoided looking at you. Your husband, however, does not. “What~ Not gonna wish my dear wife as well?”

It’s a silent staredown - one that has the entire room on edge. You don’t realize that you’re clenching your fists in tension until Satoru untangles them, slipping his larger hands into yours. Gaze still alarmingly intense and locked on the other side of the table.

He wins.

“Congratulations. Let us begin now.” 

You breathe out a sigh of relief, the tension only slightly broken as butlers stream into the room, carrying decadent trays of food. Well, at least the food might make up for how appalling this dinner is going to be.

It’s only 15 minutes in that you realize how very, horribly wrong you are - because the elders of the Gojo estate really don’t hold back, do they? Thank God you memorized every part of that stupid likes and dislikes list.

Besides picking apart every aspect of your relationship that they could manage to squeeze out of you between the appetizer and the main course, the main scrutiny tonight seems to be you. But in that icy, subtle way that has Satoru’s jaw clenching tighter each second. 

Lips curling, Gojo senior eyes you over his wine glass. “So, dear,” voice dripping with underlying venom despite the pet name. “Is it true our Satoru missed an esteemed marriage meeting with the Zenin group to ambush you at some rundown old diner?”

You fight to keep the smile plastered onto your face, painful and cracking under the pressure. A hand squeezing under the table to stop Satoru from opening his mouth to retort, you answer instead, “Well, ambushed wouldn’t be the word. You could say we fell in love over the counter - at my family’s diner.”

“A waitress, she said?”

“Now we know why it was this rushed. Probably pregnant.”

“The scandal. How far the Gojo name has fallen.”

The few stifled gasps from the other end of the table are so dramatic that you could almost laugh. But you don’t. Breath hitching as Mrs. Gojo chuckles, “Marrying the daughter of a lowly diner owner? How... quaint.”

“Mother, be quiet or-”

“What?” she throws her hands in exasperation. “Can’t I say anything around here. Honestly, Satoru, I’m just trying to make conversation with your new wife.”

Before either you or Satoru can react, his father speaks up, apparently not done with the interrogation. “You understand that we’re just worried, right, dear? Especially with marrying into prestigious families, of course.” The emphasis on “prestigious” is not lost on you.” And it drives you insane. 

Steeling yourself, you train your eyes on the untouched food below you. “I understand.”

Plowing on as if trying to infuriate you, “And you understand that this position is dangerous? You’ll be targeted.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Don’t be swept up in our Satoru’s charm and wealth, dear, my son just wants a way out of duty.” tone dripping with disdain, Satoru’s grip becoming tighter and tighter on yours. “The Gojo syndicate owns half of this city, we could bulldoze over that little diner of yours with only one phone call”

“My wife and I are leav-”

“I said I fuckin’ understand.” Your words hang in the air like a foul stench, and you raise your head to glare. If looks could kill, all the elders in this room would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on their graves already. “Neither me, nor my husband would ever let that happen because he knows a thing or two about respect, unlike you.” Lacing your fingers tighter with Satoru’s. “So shove your mighty family up your wrinkly asses. I don’t give a flying shit.” 

Eyes wide, jaws dropped, the old couple opposite you finally seems stunned into silence. And if it was any other situation you could’ve almost laughed at how similar they looked to Satoru when he found out you thought his proposal was a prank.

His father adjusts his glasses. “Perhaps that is so.”

Ah, if only the rest of the table would be quietened just as easily. 

“Not only is she a slut she’s a-”

Thud!

It all happens so fast you’re not even sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. Because in a split-second, the knife that was at your side is suddenly embedded, deep into the wooden table - barely even an inch away from the elder that had spoken up. 

“You’re lucky I’m matching with my wife n’ didn’t want to dirty this new yukata.” a voice sounds from your side. Melodic and so so eerie that you don’t realize for a second that it’s Satoru - your Satoru. 

He loops an arm under your legs as he stands up. Easily maneuvering you into a princess carry, forcing you to cling onto his robes for dear life as your feet dangle from the floor. You look up - maybe to snap at Satoru to put you down - only for the words to die in your throat at how absolutely fucking feral your husband looked. Eyes wide, aura menacing. A grin gracing his features, not the familiar one which had your heart racing, no - something so dangerous and cold. 

“Now,” he hums. Turning his back to the room, gaze still locked with the shocked heads inside, “My lovely wife and I will be retiring. Won’t you all say goodnight to your future madam?”

You don’t know what shocks you more - the way everyone in that room mumbles out a disdainful little “Goodnight, ma’am.”, or the way Satoru cackles as he carries you to your shared bedroom. Laying you gently on the mattress with a quiet, “Be right back, sweetheart.”

What the fuck happened?

He could’ve killed that man. And looked like he wanted to. 

Your brain yells at you - run away run away run away- But you weren’t…scared? In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever been less fearful in your entire life. Especially not when Satoru stumbles back into the room, clearly rushing. Something warm spreading in your chest at the trays of food in his hands.

“Dinner’s better without a bunch of fossils on my kill list.” he grins. Settling right next to you on the bed, setting out the dinner he’d brought for you. And, well, you didn’t doubt that they really were on his kill list. 

“Hey, wifey.” Satoru speaks up after a few moments of silence, satisfied with the food laid in front of you. “M’sorry for putting you through that. No more family dinners from now.”

You inch closer to lay your head on his sculpted shoulder, a hand bringing up the food to his pretty lips. He smelled so good, faintly like pine, and clouds. It made you so dizzy. “Eat, Satoru.”

That’s all which is said, because maybe that’s all that was needed. And for a second there, you almost forget that this is all pretend.

---

“Hey, uh- mister. You alright?” you call out, voice barely audible over the rain. 

The sullen figure didn’t react at first, soaked through and eyes trained on the ground. Unmoving, even when you hesitantly drew closer, umbrella quivering in your hands. 

You should turn around - walk away like everyone else on the sidewalk was doing. But no, something about the way he sat alone, stoic to the storm around him made you inch closer. “Here.” you hold out your umbrella. “S’our diner’s, but you look like you could use this more than I do.”

He jolts, as if hearing you for the first time. A flash of blue, so quick you almost think you miss it. Still not raising his head fully, the man’s snowy hair tousles as he jerkily closes around the handle. Pretty. And so so sad.

“It’ll be alright.” you nod. 

And with that, you turn, running back in the rain to the haven of the diner, where your father was waiting impatiently - he’d just bought the boxes to start packing up for relocation. Fingers still burning ever-so-slightly where his hand had brushed against yours. How strange, you wondered his name.

---

Satoru stayed true to his word over the weeks that followed. His parents seemed well and fully intent on avoiding you. And, well, other than a few disdainful remarks, the elders mostly scurried away in fear at your very sight. 

The only thing that made your skin prickle was that the housekeepers had a penchant for peeping in on the two of you. Increasingly following you - they always did, but now…honestly, it was a bit disconcerting. 

But other than that, it was almost…peaceful. You wake up every morning to a large bouquet of burgundy roses at your bedside table - and a husband. Because Satoru had taken to sleeping on the little couch at the corner of your room every night - saying something about not wanting to rouse suspicion because if he actually had a wife he’d be “taking her to bed every night”. Somehow, you didn’t doubt it. 

“Funny how it’s getting close to a month of being married, but you haven’t even kissed me yet.” you deadpan. Looking down at where he was resting his head in your lap, sprawled across the soft grass in the garden.

Something else also happened - something different.

Because Satoru was a bit touchier, a bit closer. Like right now, preening into your fingers carding through his soft hair. “Oh~? Why, wanna take me to bed, wifey?”

“You wish.”

“Maybe I do.”

Your hands still, pulse racing as your eyes bore into Satoru’s, trying to figure out what sort of bad joke this was. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning down closer - too closer. Close enough that you could count every shade of blue in his hungry gaze. But by the grace of whoever was above-

“Young master, please excuse the intrusion but you have-”

Sitting up abruptly, addressing the newcomer in a stone-cold tone. “How many fuckin’ times have I not told you to never bother me when I’m with my wife?”

The servant bows apologetically, sputtering out apologies as you move to get up. Flashing a smirk at Satoru’s dramatic pout, “I have to catch up on some reading anyway. See ya, Satoru.” 

“Noo~ my sweetheart don’t leave me~” 

You stifle a laugh at his little tantrum, so different from when he was serious. He was so….dizzying. “You’ll be okay, Satoru.” Glancing up nervously to meet the servant’s intense stare, studying the scene before him, how different his master was. “I’ll be at the library now.”

And Satoru notices - of course, he does. He sees that tiny flash of concern in your eyes. One that you might not have noticed yourself. He lowers his voice as you walk away, so you don’t hear him speaking behind you. Words dripping with a similar venom he always heard from his parents, “Now, tell me who you’re spying for. Names, first and last.” 

Satoru doesn’t join you in the library that day, the first time in weeks. And you find yourself missing him more than you should. It’s dark out by the time you’re raising your head from the books, joints aching from poring over them for hours. The house seems a lot quieter. Somewhat bigger. 

Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. 

Scratching the back of your head, you wander through the wooden hallways to your bedroom - wondering what was amiss. Your feet take you there as if on autopilot, thankful for Satoru’s meticulous tours. 

“Hey,” you smile softly at a servant making your bed, “Where are-”

Your question dies in your throat at the way she yelps at your words, hurrying down the corridor with a jerky bow. Weird. Leaving you all alone, and confused, muttering to yourself, it’s only then that you notice the flash of red by your bedside table. 

Not a bouquet. Only a single, red rose - a note tied around the stem, something you’d never gotten before. 

“The marriage proposals have been revoked, your contract is fulfilled, my ex-wife.”

Oh, reading that hurt more than it should’ve. You should be happy at being free, a few days earlier than expected at that - but it was over - just like that. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to leave him.You didn’t want to leave him.

 Were you going insane?

Clutching the flower like a lifeline, heaving out a sigh, “Maybe Satoru knows…”

“Thinking of me?”

Startled, you whirl behind to face your husband. In the dim-lighting, making out the stoney expression on his face, eyes wide and a little duller than they had been earlier today. 

“Satoru?”

His eyes light up at the mere sound of your voice - then you’re engulfed in him. Wrapping you in his arms, bowing his body into yours, so tight that it almost hurts. But you let him, fisting the fresh yukata in your hands - and that’s when you realize, he’s changed his robes since this morning. “Are you okay?” you whisper into his shoulder. Drinking in the smell of his cologne, and something faintly metallic. 

Every cell in your body is screaming at you to take the opportunity - to run away from this yakuza and his slaughter and whatever this was. But how could you? Staying rooted to the spot, not even a speck of fear.

Satoru heaves out a heavy breath, tickling the hairs at your nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. “Those nosy elders won’t be bothering you anymore, sweetheart. You’re free to go.”

A shudder runs down your spine at his words, and you didn’t want to think too hard about what they meant. Instead, you guide him to your bed - and, surprisingly, he allows you to. Letting the two of you sink into the plush mattress. With Satoru still in your arms. He repeats, “You’re free to go.”

Run away. Run away. Run away-

There it was again - that strained little manta. You stare right into his eyes, voice thick at the sinking feeling in your stomach. “My 30 days aren’t over yet.” 

“Leave. Please.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, like your hands drawing patterns down his back had broken some dam. “M’not a good man.” 

You press your lips to his forehead, searing and a desperate attempt to soothe the man. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

“I’m yakuza, sweetheart. Doomed to follow my parents here.” he mutters, strained and voice more unsure than you’ve ever heard. And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into your skin, “I hate it here, and you should, too. All these fuckin-”

“So go with me instead.”

“What if-”

“Toru.‘ you cut off his words, slurring and spilling out of his mouth. Gently, you pry him away from his little haven, reeling back to take a good look at the face he’s been hiding for so long. Hair mussed, curtaining his whirling eyes - all disheveled and vulnerable where he was once so suave. 

Your eyes bore into his, unwavering. “It’ll be alright, Toru.”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. Only when his lips meet yours, soft, and so so sweet, do you realize that this is everything you ever want right now - possibly these past few weeks. “Y’can kill me if you don’ want his.” he mutters into your open mouth.  

It’s so desperate - a messy clash of teeth and saliva, Satoru was drinking you in like you were the last drop of water on Earth. He tasted so sweet, like candy almost, and the gentle caress of a lover. You were addicted like you could do this forever and ever and-

And then he’s pulling away. A disappointed little whine leaves you involuntarily as he parts, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the space between you two. Satoru’s mouth drops into a soft oh! at the noise, surging forward minutely like he was about to kiss you senseless again. Only to halt with a pained grunt, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. 

“M’sorry.” Claiming your lips once again, like a man possessed. Drinking in your breathless gasps. Like he never wanted to let go. “F-fuck, sweetheart. Y’don’t know how crazy you drive me.” he pants.

“Why did you pick me?” you blurt out, a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind every time Satoru slipped his hand in yours, introducing you as his loving wife. “Was it just the debt?”

He’s kissing your pulse now, canines hovering over the erratic little cadence. Breathing you in like you were intoxicating. “No.” he’s licking a long, languid stripe up your neck. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of skin he could reach. 

“Then why?” your words come out in almost an embarrassing plea. But by the way his breath hitches, you know that Satoru loves it. 

“Because.” he breathes, “You treated me like a human.”

He’s capturing your lips with his again, nipping at your bottom lips. You squeal as he pulls, suddenly wanting him to tease you like this everywhere. To have him absolutely ruin you like you know he could - treat you like the wife he claimed you were. 

But Satoru wasn’t done yet - far from it. He chuckles, kissing down your neck, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Remember that night? You probably don’t, was rainin’ so hard I thought I’d drown out there.” Worshiping the valley between your breasts as he hastily unbuckles your bra. “That night was when the marriage proposals had come in. They said I’d either carry the legacy or be forced to leave the family. Kicked out of my own home.” 

And you’re reeling from both his words and the way Satoru was rocking his hips into yours now, something hot, and so achingly hard pressing in the damp area between your legs. “Thought I was gonna take ‘em all out that night.”

“Take them all out?” your breath hitches.

“Every. Single. One.” Fingers dancing across the hem of your panties. “Wouldn’t have felt bad about it either.” 

Satoru’s licking down your navel now, humming in confirmation into your skin. “But then…” he groans, taking in the first fucking sinful sight of your drenched panties. So flimsy and already dripping for him - and after just a few kisses, really? You were heaven on Earth. “But then along came you. So pretty and all worried f’me. The daughter of that diner owner I’d loaned money too.”

You watch, heart racing as Satoru swallows in awe. Darkened gaze locked on the way your slick beads out of your pussy, bare thighs trying to close - give yourself some semblance of dignity. But no- how could you? When Satoru’s holding them apart.

“And then I knew…” he’s sliding his index underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertip before popping it into his mouth. Eyes fluttering shut at the taste, and you’ve never seen him look so blissful. “I just had to have you.”

Rip! 

The cold air brushes against you before you even know it - only when you feel Satoru’s hot breath against your dripping cunt does it hit - this bastard just ripped your panties off. And he was dangling it like a badge of honor, breathing in your juices so animalistically. 

Your lips wobble as he just admires your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. “Hah- please.”

“Please what?” he grins, and you can feel him licking little circles around your inner thigh. So close. “The wife of a yakuza boss has gotta know how to use her words.”

“You’re awful.”

“And yet you married me.”

With such a cute lil’ whine that makes Satoru’s cock twitch so painfully, you buck your hips closer to his hot mouth. “Wan’ your mouth on me, to eat me out. Please, Toru.”

He lets out a shuddering breath, “There’s my girl.”

You gasp when he surges forward, burying his pretty face nose-deep in your pussy. Holding your breath as he lazily licks up your folds - long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub. 

Drunk off your pussy with the way he’s so messy - seemingly unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor, ravaged clit to dipping into your sloppy hole. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You haven’t been touched this good in ages, and Satoru was well and fully intent on ruining you. 

“Shhh, don’t worry, wifey.” words muffled into your cunt, “Your husband’s gonna take care of you.” He’s throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.

“Real good care of you.” Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. Messy enough that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Roaming for that one spot he knows will have you moaning deliciously. Pressing down, hard.  “Found it. Gonna have you screamin’ my name til’ the entire estate hears.”

You tug on his hair, urging Satoru’s mouth towards your cunt - partially because you wanted him there, partially because you really needed him to shut up right now. 

And shit how could he ever say no to his pretty wife?

Satoru is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his pretty pink lips around it. Pumping his fingers in and out, hitting that little spot each and every time. Looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over and-

“Sh-shit. Toru-”

“Mmm, yes- fuck, love it when you call me that.” he groans. And oh he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you - eyes half-lidded, such a pretty blush disting his cheeks - and making out with your pussy just as much. Tilting his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Feels good? Ya like when m’ruining your pretty pussy?”

“Yes!” you squirm. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Wanted it s’bad.” 

He’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. But it wasn’t enough - it never was and fuck Satoru wanted more more more-

“Move your hips, yeah- jus’ like that.” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Letting you pull and angle him just as you please. 

“Gonna be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have. N’ anyone that says otherwise, m’gonna fuckin’ kill.” The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Make you cum harder than y’ever have. C’mon, say yes.”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and bullying his tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal. “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes-”

“Beg for it, beg for your husband.”

“Wanna cum- Ah! Please, wanna cum, Toru.”

One hand so messy toying with your dripping entrance - not having the patience or the sanity to even draw circles anymore. Just quick, hurried patterns to get you off. The other digging into your hips, so hard you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. Making you drag your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. Using him. 

“Hngh- Toru! Ah- fuck fuck Toru Toru T-”  You’re shaking - crying out as you cum. A guttural, strangled moan of your husband’s name. So violent, and hard that you don’t even realize at first. Just that you’re rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears.

And he doesn’t stop - not even once. If you were in any better state of mind you’d wonder whether it hurt - whether his fingers were cramping up, and his tongue was tired. If they were, he didn’t show, only letting you chase your high as roughly as you want. 

Greedily lapping up all your juices. Even when you’re blinking your vision back, chest heaving as you try to regain our breath. “S-Satoru.” you mewl, stars behind your eyes with each flick of his tongue. 

“Jus’ a bit more. Wanna taste all of you.”

You weren’t going to make it out alive.

Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation as Satoru finally rises from what you almost worried would be his favorite seat. “All done. Now, keep that pretty lil’ cunt on display f’me, my girl.”

And your cunt is clenching in- fear? Anticipation? As your husband finally unties his yukata, letting it slide off those milky, toned shoulders. And shit he was such a fucking masterpiece. The dim-lighting bouncing off every curve and dip of those carved abs. Delicate swirls of his tattoo inching from his collarbone, down, down, down, hugging Satoru in a way that made you so half-lucidly jealous. All the way till the last inky thorn meets the neat tufts of white hair peeking up from the hem of his underwear. 

“Touch me.” he groans into your ear. The words barely leave those pretty lips before your hands are everywhere. Dancing down his tattoo, groping at this pecs - too much to worship, not enough time. 

“Toru…” you trail off, hand reaching out to brush his waistband. Tugging just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, fat tip weeping down his length, already so soaked in precum. He was so intimidatingly long - longer than anyone else you’d had before. Thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. 

And he sees right through you.

“Now now, none of that.” he tuts, pushing your bare thighs as far apart as they’d go. He spreads your cunt so shamefully with his thumb. Spitting once, twice. Some of it splatter against your thigh as Satoru mixes his saliva with your slick. “Don’t worry, wifey, m’gonna make it feel good for ya.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he drags his fat head down your folds. Wetting himself, all the preparation he was going to give you because fuck Satoru needed to be inside your pretty lil’ pussy right now. 

Then you feel like you’re being split apart - as if Satoru’s cock was pushing all the way to your lungs as he presses through the first ring of muscle.

“Ah! Ngh- Toru, s’too big!” you yelp, eyes locked on the way your lips were stretched so lewdly around his tip. Clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in, inch by fucking inch. No mercy. Absolutely none at all. 

And while he sounded like he was on cloud nine, you were having your head spin, torn between wanting to run away from his massive cock and just push yourself down for more more more. His lips claim yours - absolutely animalistic because God he needed to shut up your pretty whines or else Satoru was going to cum right here right now.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breath. Ngh- You can take it.” Satoru pants into your mouth, fucking into you in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to fit inside your snug cunt. Sounding like he was losing his sanity each time your heavenly walls milked him. “So fuckin’ tight. Jus’ relax f’me. Oh yeah, jus’ like that. You can take it you can-”

You gasp for air when he finally bottoms out inside you, tears streaming down your face and clawing at his back. 

Satoru only coos, letting you mark him up all you want. Pace increasing relentlessly, “Aww, my good lil’ wife. Taking me so well, huh?” Starting to rock his hips just a bit faster into yours, “Always knew y’would.” 

“Can y’feel me, right-.” Balls smacking against your ass, his finger tracing an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “-here?” Thumb stroking where he could feel himself bulging inside you, pressing down. Hard. 

You almost sob at the pressure, jolting - you should’ve expected that the yakuza boss would fuck so mean.

And shit you can just do nothing but take it, hips jerking wildly as Satoru pounds into you with reckless abandon. Clutching at his shoulders, the sheets, his hair - just anything. 

“C’mon~ Don’t run away from me,” he grunts, strained like he’s struggling to maintain restraint. Lacing his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper onto his cock. “Jus’ fuckin’ got you, so don’t you dare run away.”

You can only nod. Eyes glazed, cockdrunk and letting him thrust so sloppily. “Won’t run away Toru…” you babble, “Wan’ you to make me yours.”

“Mine? Gonna be all mine?”

“All yours, Toru.”

And maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were a mastermind - because with a choked out little moan of what sounded like your name, Satoru’s pulling you both to sit up. The gravity makes you bury his cock deeper and faster into your tight pussy.

With the new angle, your husband’s hitting all the right spots easily, almost as if he knew your body better than you did. Veins rubbing so deliciously against your walls, shifting around your hips to fuck up into that poor, abused spot. 

“Ya like this, huh?” he groans, fingers now toying with your ravaged clit. Rolling it around harshly between two fingers. “Always knew this cute pussy could take me s’well. Just didn’t know it would feel this fucking heavenly.”

Faster, sloppier. Bouncing you on his rock-hard cock  like he was claiming you from the inside. So, so desperate and debauched.

And exactly where you wanted to be. 

You leave delicate pink bites down this pale neck, alongside those roses - marking him in your own way as you edge closer and closer. It was too much. Everything was too much. 

“Toru-” you sob. And he already knew what that meant. With how your voice breaks so adorably and the way you’re clenching around him hard enough that it’s almost difficult to ruin that cute pussy. 

“Close?” 

“Mhm…”

“Well then.” thrusts getting sloppy, with no reason or rhythm now. Grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Cum f’me like a good lil’ wife, then.”

And that makes you throw your head back in ecstasy - it makes you cum. Thighs quivering, jolts of electricity running down all the way from your overstimulated cunt to your hazy mind. It has you chanting Satoru’s name like a lifeline while his teeth dig into your flesh. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood.

Letting out low, muffled moans into your neck while he cums as well. Hot ropes of seed filling up your poor, bloated pussy, painting your walls such a sinful white. Cumming and cumming so hard you wondered whether you’d make it out alive.

And because of the obscene position, you could feel the way it dribbled down your legs. Thick globs landing in a pool on the overpriced sheets below, smearing so lewdly between you two. Hips still fucking up into you - not even thinking about it as he pushes his seed deeper and deeper. 

You managed to raise your eyes, still dazed to meet his - exhausted, and dark with lust and something else that you really weren’t in the right mind to decipher right now. 

And then Satoru’s lips find yours again, biting and tugging lazily. Tasting so unfairly of candy and sweet, sweet trouble. Body melting into you like all the worries have been lifted from his shoulders. He’s looping his arms tighter around your waist, crushing you into an almost-painful hug against him. 

Something soft. Something new. Something that makes a little part of your heart twinge to break the kiss and pull away mere millimeters. “We better not divorce after this.”

“Of course not.” He chuckles into your lips, resting his forehead against yours like he was trying to map the constellations in your eyes. “I haven’t even given you my wedding gift yet.”

Smirking, you lock your legs tighter around Satoru’s toned waist as he lets the two of you fall back into the mattress. Sinking into it - and each other - with both exhaustion and something of a quiet, unspoken little fondness. Batting your lashes up at him, “Mhm, I remember someone talking about giving me four mercedes as a wedding gift and I’m leaving if not.”

“Well then, better get to it. Four for my in-laws to get on their good side, too,” he nuzzles the bite mark on your neck. “Because I plan to stay like this for a long, long time.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

[ttsukiimi]

DAMN, I NEED YOU RN!

୨୧⋆ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ Being away from you has had its effects on them—and only being buried deep inside you can rid them of their neediness.

୨୧⋆ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ pũssywhipped!gojo x reader, pũssywhipped!nanami x reader, pũssywhipped!toji x reader, pũssywhipped!choso x reader, smut (mdni), unprotected sx, oral (f receiving), kitchen sx, reader referred to as (baby, doll)

୨୧⋆ 𝐚/𝐧 ⎯ sigh, SIGH. *turns away and looks at the sunset*

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. 𝗚. 𝗦

“Oh—fuck, baby,” Satoru groaned in your ear—practically rasped as his hips snapped repeatedly against your plump ass, his eyes taking in the sight of your tear stained eyes and face. “Almost forgot what it was like bein’ inside you,”

You whined into the sheets and your hands gripped the covers under you, holding onto anything that could structure you from the harsh and unrelenting rams of thick cock into your poor cunt. “So good, ‘Toru,”

His mission had been so grueling, so long—and that meant time away from you; time away from being able to fuck his princess. Which is why the sound of skin against skin was resonating so loud throughout your shared bedroom, the smell of lewd sex filling the air. And even then that wasn’t enough—he’d have to be inside you for the time he wasn’t.

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. 𝗡.𝗞

Now, Nanami Kento is a rational man. A man of order and formal authority. However, when it came to you, those unspoken rules were hurled out the window. When it came to you, thinking about you, missions seemed ten times as long. Knowing how your moans would bounce off the walls, yours legs wrapping around his waist, manicured nails scratching red lines down his back—oh, he barely managed to stop himself from cumming in his pants.

He waisted no time once he got home—bending you over the kitchen counter and stuffing himself into you. The feeling of your walls clamping down around him was like no other—and for the second time that day he halted the coming of his climax.

“Ken..you’re so needy today,” you mumbled, cheek squished against the marble counter Nanami pushed your head to. There was no response to your statement, only a low hum—one that guaranteed a long day of being stuffed to the brim.

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. 𝗧.𝗙

Was Toji a sex addict? You thought so—no, you knew so—you even had evidence to back that up; mornings where you woke up filled to the hilt, evening where a innocent cuddling session turned awry, nights where no sleep was had. But this, this was a new occurrence.

“Y’r takin’ it all soo well, doll,” Toji whistled, pushing in his head and instantly bottoming out, thumb rubbing at your clit. It hadn’t even been a minute since he arrived home from a task; you’d went to greet him at the door and before you knew it you were pushed against a nearby wall, being filled with cock.

His arms caged you in—forced you to take each ruthless thrust he was driving into you. It didn’t help that earlier you had been teasing him, sending him nudes while you knew he was at work. But Toji didn’t mind, he knew just the punishment for a brat like you.

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ ͎. 𝗖.𝗞

“Cho,” you mumbled, your fingers carding through his silky, black hair, pushing his head further, closer to your aching cunt. His tongue felt heavenly as it lapped up every bit of your essence, licking and sucking so curiously; like he needed more.

“You taste so good,”

Everything about him was different today. First he’d let his hair down, truly a sight to behold, then, with how touchy he was, you couldn’t deny his request to eat you out. How could you?

It was your duty to make him feel better after a long days work, and god knows you cannot say no to him. Especially now when he’s in between your legs, slurping your clit and eating you out as if his life depended on it.

#jjk fic #jjk smut #ꔫ : ˚ ͙۪۪̥◌⎯ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈’𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x you #jjk choso #jjk satoru #jjk gojo #jjk #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru smut #gojou satoru x reader #kamo choso x reader #choso x female reader #choso smut #nanami smut #nanami kento #toji fushigro x reader #toji smut #fushiguro toji x reader #choso kamo #choso x reader #nanami x reader

[cravetive]

𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗗

✩｡ Pairings: Neighbor!Jungkook x Fem!reader

✩｡ Synopsis: Y/n didn't think testing out a new sex toy would cause so much havoc but no worries, her next-door neighbor Jungkook doesn't mind lending her a bit of assistance.

✩｡Warnings: Smut! cussing, mentions of masturbation, spanking, doggy style, sex in a public place, unprotected sex (sigh), teasing, creampie, rough sex, pinning, sex toys, sweat and other bodily fluids, a bit of exhibitionism i guess (elevators have cameras), sexual frustration, consensual sex, if you're reading this for the plot don't, there is no plot.

✩｡ Authors Note: lord give me one chance, one chance is all i need.

✩｡ Word Count: 5.k

-

“Are you using it right now?”

“Yes, it’s a bit uncomfortable, to be honest.”

“Omg! Are you in public?!”

“I just made a quick run to the convenience store for a few snacks.”

“Oh, you’re brave” Mina, Y/n’s friend spoke through the phone that was pressed between her ear and shoulder. Y/n sighed, grabbing a bottle of water and making her way to the front of the store. “it’s in low mode anyways, it just feels like I’m riding the bus on an unpaved street” Y/n laughed whilst placing her items onto the counter for the cashier to scan.  

“I've never had anyone try it out in public, this is exciting!” Y/n rolled her eyes and scanned her card, grabbing her receipt and bag before stepping out of the convenience store and into the scorching sun of July.

“Relax I’ll be home in like 3 seconds” Y/n huffed, wiping some of the sweat beaming on her forehead. Having been locked in her air-conditioned apartment for the last 2 days had caused her to forget the heat wave that had taken over the city in the last week and it didn’t matter that she was wearing her shortest summer dress because she felt like she was boiling alive.

“Okay, just remember you can change the motions and speed on the app, but I would recommend you start off slow so that you can adjust” Mina spoke urgently on the phone, but Y/n could only focus on her apartment building as it came into view, her flip flops dragging against the pavement as she took hurried steps. “Yes, yes just know that you owe me big time!” Y/n yelled into the phone.

Y/n wasn’t experimental in any aspect of her life, she liked what she liked, and she knew what she didn’t. Her life was simple, boring as Mina would describe it, but she preferred it that way, it had worked out for her, and she didn’t see the need to stray from it. which had only made her that much more apprehensive when Mina came to her with the proposition of testing out one of the new sex toys her company was developing.

Y/n didn’t like the idea at all, and she had even readied herself to decline but upon noticing the desperation in Mina’s eyes that late afternoon she just couldn’t bring herself to say no. Y/n first-handedly witnessed how hard Mina had worked on this project and she couldn’t be the reason behind its failure which had led her to reluctantly accept. It had only taken 4 days for the package to be delivered to her front door, the small box containing the pink bullet vibrator Mina had designed which was now nestled between her legs.

“I will kiss the ground you walk on after this!” Mina promised on the other end of the call which caused Y/n to laugh as she stepped into her building. her feet shuffled as she leaned forward to tap on the elevator button and She subconsciously pressed her legs together as she stood waiting for the doors to open, the low vibrations from the toy leaving her a bit out of breath.

“Alright, I’ll call you back later on” Y/n huffed which caused Mina to giggle on the other end.

“Hot and bothered already?” Mina joked which caused Y/n’s already flushed cheeks to deepen in color.

“Shut up, it’s the heat” Y/n yelled as she watched the elevator doors open.

“sureeeee” Mina teased which led Y/n to end the call without further explanation.

She stepped into the small space and pressed the button to her floor before standing all the way back into the corner, her back pressed into the mirrored wall behind her. Y/n bit her bottom lip as she watched the elevator doors close slowly. she didn’t understand the buzz behind these sex toys or this market, the bullet wasn’t even doing anything to stimulate her and if she was honest, the vibration alone was starting to irritate her.

Y/n was sure her hand could do a better job.

“Hold it!” a voice shouted which caused Y/n to snap out of her frustrated trance, she reached forward and stopped the doors from shutting. The voice’s owner rushed inside, and Y/n took in his flustered appearance as he turned back to thank her. She recognized him as the man who lived 2 doors away from her and was notoriously known for his loud parties and for the woman who came and went from his apartment. It had been more than a few times she had found herself knocking on his door at 3 am due to the loud music.

And if it wasn’t for the fact that the guy was easy on the eyes she probably would’ve already complained to management.

 His name is Chun-woo? Jungkook? Something like that she thought.

Y/n offered him a small and awkward smile before pressing herself against the wall once again. She rarely ever interacted with any of the residents in the building and today would not be the exception. She was already hot and sweaty and all she wanted to do was to get to her cool air-conditioned apartment and binge on her delicious snacks.

“It’s really hot outside” the man commented, tapping on the button that Y/n had already pressed earlier. She dragged her eyes over to his back and hummed, nodding her head in agreement.

“you’re from apartment 902 right?” He glanced back at her, and she noticed the piercing that wrapped around the end of his bottom lip, she had never stood as close to him to notice it before and for some reason it only made him appear that much more handsome.

“Yeah” she smiled, squirming in the small space in which she stood.

Within the silence that soon overtook the small elevator, she could hear the way the man struggled to catch his breath, having fallen victim to the heat wave outside. His long black hair had stuck to the dampened skin of his forehead and his broad shoulders rose and fell as the elevator began to ascend.

Y/n tried to focus her eyes on the floor beneath her and not on the man who stood there with his back now turned to her but ever so often she would find herself staring at the white loose fitted t-shirt he wore, drenched with his sweat. She also tried to stop herself from biting down on her bottom lip while she noticed the muscles that pressed from the thin material around his shoulders while subconsciously rubbing her legs together.

It was rude to stare, she knew that, but the elevator was so crammed there were only so many alternative places she could look, and he was so tall, so broad and his tattooed arm called for her attention, the intricate colors and patterns leaving her in a trance…she blinked quickly, her cheeks turning crimson from the thoughts flooding through her mind.

She opted to stare at the ceiling instead, noticing the way the bright lights would flicker subtly as the elevator continued to climb levels, and then suddenly there came a pulsation from between her legs, one that was probably already there but she hadn’t been able to notice before. Her eyes widened in horror as her mind registered the cause and her hand reached for her phone in urgency as the small vibrations from the small toy caused a faint sound inside the compact space.

“Do you hear that?” Jungkook spoke, turning to look at a very disheveled Y/n, she looked back to him in pure embarrassment, her fingers frantically searching for the app her best friend had downloaded onto her phone. 

“Mhm? Ah No, I think it’s the elevator” she giggled nervously and Jungkook nodded, biting down on his lip and turning to face the elevator doors once again.

Y/n had forgotten all about the small object that lowly vibrated inside of her, which was now causing her clit to pulsate painfully under her black thong. Her hands shook as she pressed on the pink icon shining through her screen, and her eyes scanned the app quickly trying to find the off button on the small evil little thing stuck inside her pussy.

“fuck” she breathed as sweat beads began to form on her skin.

The panic running through her body didn’t allow her to focus on the small words in front of her, no matter how hard she squinted. Her fingers continued to urgently press against random buttons, trying to shut off the damn thing but all she had accomplished was for it to change motions, going from a light vibration to full-on pumping. She covered her mouth in shock at the new movement and gripped the handrailing on her side for support.

“how the fuck- “she groaned.

“What was that?” Jungkook asked, looking at her through the reflection on the doors and for a moment she loathed how attentive this man was.

Y/n could only shake her head, her hand trembling against her phone while she tried to overpower the sensation taking over her body.

She had underestimated the damn thing, thinking all would be good if she kept it at a low tempo, who even goes to the store with a sex toy in their pussy? She cursed herself for the irrational idea.

She stared at the screen in concentration, soon finding the pulse button and beginning to tap on it frantically but the thing wouldn’t budge and soon she felt the speed increase. Her mouth widened in horror; her eyes fluttered closed as the vibrations rocked through her body in waves and soon her breaths became extremely uneven. She hoped and prayed her neighbor wouldn’t notice but Jungkook watched from the distorted reflection in front of him at how much she struggled to stay still.

She was sure the universe hated her, she must have been paying for some karmic event she had forgotten about because there was no way in hell this was happening to her.

Suddenly almost as if in coordination, the elevator began to tremble underneath her feet and then her eyes opened wide, was this a figment of her imagination? Was this a silly joke being played on her by the gods? Was this punishment for experimenting with her sex life?

The elevator shook uncontrollably causing Y/n to lose grip of the railing, she fell onto the floor with a loud thud, her bag of snacks ripping open and spilling its contents on the floor. The lights above her flickered on and off and then everything stopped.

Her heart, the rocking of the floor, her brain, and even the elevator came to an abrupt halt but not the vibrations between her legs, it was the only thing that remained as her body squirmed on the floor from the pulsations erupting from her clit.  

“What the fuck” Jungkook muttered as he held onto one of the railings, his arms strained with veins running under the skin as he was too shaken by the sudden tremble.

“Did we just have an earthquake?” he exclaimed while his eyes trailed to the spot where Y/n once stood but she was no longer there and then his eyes trailed down, where he found Y/n thrown across the floor along with her snacks. Jungkook let go of the railing and reached for her limp body in an attempt to help her.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, taking a step towards her but Y/n squirmed, backing into the wall behind her.

“Hey, relax” he spoke, his voice but a whisper as he grabbed onto her arm and lifted her off from the floor. She whimpered as he brought her back onto her feet, her hands holding onto his forearms for support.

“I think we’re stuck” he concluded, unable to feel the motion of the elevator beneath his feet. Y/n didn’t say a word, afraid that her attempts at speaking would demonstrate the utter pleasure she was in, and she was mortified. Jungkook noticed the way she slightly trembled underneath his touch, her eyes looking up at his in fear and then an urgency to calm her came over him.

“don’t worry, we can just call someone to help us” he removed his eyes from the agitated woman and scanned the panel at the side of the door, reaching to tap on the red button at the very end. Y/n could only focus on 2 things, the wetness that soon pooled through the thin fabric of her panties and the feeling of his hand on her arm.

His hands were big and soft, and she could feel the small callouses on his palm pressing against her skin. She had to get out of this situation and quickly, she could feel the pressure building in her gut and it was familiar to the one she always got when pleasuring herself during late nights.

She was going to come.

She should’ve been focused on the elevator, on trying to get out of the cramped space, and not on coming undone in front of her neighbor from 2 doors down while he held her. She pushed aside her current desires and removed her eyes from Jungkook's hand on her arm. She carefully scanned the floor for her cell phone and once in her view, she bent down to collect it, her hand fumbling with the device as she picked it up from the floor.

When she turned it over, her heart plummeted. The screen had cracked completely, a few pieces of glass missing, and the screen blinked in different colors in front of her. at that very moment, she wished the elevator would plummet down to her death, she gasped for air as the realization hit her that the only other option she had was to remove the little bullet herself, but she couldn’t, she wouldn’t.

What would her neighbor think? She would have to move from the building entirely to escape from the humiliation alone. What would she even say? oh, hey yeah hold on a minute let me remove my SEX TOY from my vagina…she was mortified.

Her attention was drawn back to the elevator in which she stood as a voice appeared from within the small speaker inside the panel and her heart skipped a beat at the sudden relief that someone would come to help her leave this hellish predicament.

“Sun tower, how can we help you?”

“Uh yea, listen we’re stuck in the elevator” Jungkook spoke his hand reaching to wipe away some of the sweat forming on his face.

“Oh yes sir, sorry about that the building has lost power due to the heat but no worries we are working on the issue, and the elevator should be up and running in no time” Y/n groaned in frustration, deciding it would be best to move away from Jungkook’s touch entirely and found her place back to the corner of the elevator.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Jungkook sighed, growing frustrated with the entire situation.

“Mhmm, it should take about an hour” the person informed.  Y/n jolted in surprise, An hour!? Y/n wouldn’t be able to hold off for an hour. Her legs were trembling, and her heart was beating abnormally fast against her chest. She knew her body and she had a good 5 minutes at best.  She ran to the speaker, attempting to focus on controlling her body as she screamed into it in desperation.

“No sir” she moaned, her teeth coming down to bite down harshly on her lips as she attempted to contain herself “You don’t understand I need to get out of here!” her hands held onto the elevator panel for dear life, and she was almost at the verge of tears. “Sorry ma’am we are doing everything we can” Her breaths were uneven as she retracted from the wall, her hands falling by her sides in defeat.

Jungkook noticed the way she struggled to breathe, her chest heaving as she attempted to bring oxygen to her lungs and his eyes squinted in suspicion.

“Hey, are you okay” he asked again, taking a few steps towards her but Y/n raised her hands, her stare darkened and blurred. “Please just stay on that side” she panted, her legs pressing together once again as she battled with another moan that sat on her tongue.

“Are you claustrophobic?” Jungkook asked and oh how Y/n wished that was the reason her body convulsed in the way it did now, her extremities shaking at the feeling of the sex toy vibrating inside of her.

“I-i” she whimpered, attempting to form words but her brain was too consumed by the pumping between her legs, her hands reaching to force her hips from buckling at the feeling. She promised herself she would never speak to Mina again, this was all her fault, she didn’t even want to do this and now she was masturbating in front of this complete stranger. She leaned over and her mouth fell wide open, a loud yelp falling from within.

“woah” Jungkook rushed to her side, his hands reaching to give her support but that only caused her to shiver, the stimulation of both the toy and the man holding her throwing her into complete disarray.

“What is that buzzing sound?” Jungkook asked again, his eyes falling on the floor in an attempt to find the source, but he was met with bags of chips and bottles of water. He focused his hearing on the sound, it was faint, but it was there, and it was driving him crazy. He followed the sound and once his eyes reached the exposed skin of Y/n legs, he looked up into her eyes in surprise.

She looked back at him in embarrassment, her face reddened in shame as sweat trickled down her forehead. She didn’t have the energy to pretend anymore or to try to explain how she wasn’t a sex addict of some sort, she could no longer control what was happening, deciding that she was no match against the orgasm that would soon rock through her.

“Are you? - “his eyes looked into hers and a moan escaped her lips in response. His body tensed at the realization, but he couldn’t take his eyes off hers, entranced by the way she trembled underneath his hands. “Is that?” he gulped looking back down to her shaking legs.

“ah fuck” Y/n moaned, burying her face into his chest, the action causing Jungkook’s heart to leap out of its position. he should’ve been focusing on the predicament they were in, how it would take an hour for the apartment to get them out of there, how hot it had gotten in the cramped space, but he could only think about the girl who was coming undone in his arms, soft pants and moans erupting from her lips into his chest.

“My phone” she whimpered “Ah my phone is broken” She gripped his arms trying to regain control of her body but it was no use, she had been pushed past her limit and she could feel her arousal drip from between her legs.

Jungkook couldn’t ignore the way her whimpers caused goosebumps on his skin, the way her soft moans called upon his member to rise and press against the fabric of his underwear. It was wrong and he knew it, she was vulnerable and unraveling in front of him, but he couldn’t fight it, he was salivating at the thought of what her pussy would look like underneath the skirt of her dress, he imagined it glistening with her juices as the toy moved inside of her and his dick quivered underneath the constraints of his clothes.

“Can I-? “He whispered his half-lidded eyes glancing into hers with lust and desperation.

“Can I help you?” Jungkook gulped, his body tensing at the question. He wouldn’t be surprised if she pushed him back and screamed at him, in under different circumstances he probably wouldn’t have been so upfront, but they had an hour to kill and it almost pained him to see her like this, the toy not being able to assist her in the way he knew he could.

It took a moment too long for Y/n to realize what he was asking, it was not like she was even in the right state of mind to think over anything at that moment yet, she nodded her head miserably, her eyes shutting as another wave of pleasure ran through her body whilst she permitted him to assist her.

“Shhh don’t worry, I’ll take care of you” Jungkook whispered into her ear which lured a moan out of her lips.

He moved in front of her, and his eager mouth found hers, their lips melting as they slid against each other, Jungkook felt the warmth of her skin as she pressed her body into his and his hands snaked along the fabric of her short dress. She was so complaint, so willing and it was driving him over the edge. He responded by pressing his body against hers and she soon felt Jungkook’s prominent boner against her lower belly.

She wondered how long he had been that hard, how long was he pondering if he could fuck her…Y/n wasn’t like this, she didn’t think about these things, and she also wasn’t often so eager to fuck a stranger in the elevator. She couldn’t control herself; she needed relief, and she needed it fast.

“mm gonna take it out” Jungkook dragged his lips away from hers with a hum and trailed his fingers down to the hem of her dress. Y/n whimpered as he teased her, his fingers hovering over the skin of her thighs which were tightly pressed together in an attempt to stop her wetness from dripping down her legs.

“Is that okay?” Jungkook whispered, staring back into her eyes with hunger and she was sure that look alone was going to have her spazzing in a short moment.

He guided his hand past her thighs, his fingers brushing by the hem of her panties and hooking his fingers along them, Y/n threw her head back in pleasure at the intrusion, her legs shaking beneath her as he played with the lace material that was between his digits.

“p-please” she begged, her body trembling from the mere anticipation.

Jungkook smirked at the sight before him, he loved the control he had, loved the fact that she needed him. he unhooked his fingers and dipped his hand inside her panties, turning it over so that his palm was now facing her sensitive clit and applied just enough pressure to make her squirm.

“Fuck, you’re wet” Jungkook hissed, his lips finding shelter on the exposed skin of her neck.

“p-please” Y/n whimpered, unable to repress the longing from between her legs.

Jungkook dipped his hand down further, finding the toy embedded between her warm walls, and groaned at the feeling of her juices coating his fingers as he slowly extracted the toy from its rightful home. The pink little object vibrated against his hand, and he chuckled lowly at the feeling, Y/n sighed in relief, perhaps thinking that was the end of her torment.

Her pussy pulsated sorely, her mind clouded by the impending climax that pressed down on her gut and she needed it, she needed it badly. She pulled Jungkook closer and crashed her mouth into his with eagerness. She would often hear the screams of pleasure that poured out of Jungkook’s apartment when she walked past his door and right now, she needed him to help her in the same way.

Y/n reached for the strings of his sweatpants and quickly undid the knot there, pulling them down from his waist and then dipping her hand into his underwear where she found his rock-hard cock, painfully quivering against the material. Jungkook groaned into her mouth, his body lurching forward at the sensation of her warm hand stroking him under his Calvin Kleins.

“fuck” he muttered as he pulled away from her kiss, his eyes fluttering close.

“I want to fuck you so bad” he groaned, his hands reaching to caress her breasts through the fabric of her dress.

“Then fuck me” Y/n moaned, and it didn’t take more than a second for Jungkook to turn her around and press her against the mirror of the elevator, his hands moving quickly to pull down her black thong and throwing it across the floor. He parted her legs and Y/n watched from the reflection as he licked his lips in admiration.

She didn’t know what she had gotten herself into and she sure as hell wasn’t prepared but she didn’t care, she needed his cock inside of her walls and that’s all she could think about.

Jungkook pushed down his underwear, exposing his cock as he gave it a few more pumps before aligning himself to her welcoming pussy. He watched her arousal drip from her core, and he whimpered at the sight. it was all that he had expected and more, he slowly dragged the tip of his cock against her wet folds which caused Y/n to yelp, her hands reaching to grip the handrails for support.

They moaned in unison as he entered her walls, her legs bucking as he began to move himself inside of her. Jungkook moved slowly, patiently waiting for her to adjust to his length but the feeling of her walls gripping him tightly like his dick was meant to be there was urging him to lose control and it didn’t help that he had a full view of her ass while his dick retracted from her pussy ever so slightly.

“f-fuck me harder” she moaned, and Y/n was sure she had never used those words before, but it was all the instructions Jungkook needed to pick up his pace. He began to thrust roughly inside of her, his hands coming down to hold her hips in place, keeping her from moving away as he pounded into her. Y/n leaned her head against the mirror, her mouth wide open as whimpers and moans fell from it.

The small elevator was soon filled with the symphony of moans and skin clashing together, Y/n could feel a burning sensation building as Jungkook kept his tempo, his black locks hanging over his face as he continued to ram into her. his hand came down quickly against her ass cheek, leaving a red imprint there and Y/n screamed in excitement.

“look how good you’re taking it” Jungkook moaned as he watched his wet cock retract and enter into her pussy over and over again. he reached underneath where their bodies remained interlinked and pressed the vibrating bullet that was still in his hand against her clit. Y/n yelped; her eyes fluttering shut at the sudden action.

“Come on, be a good girl, you know you can take it” he hummed his eyes taking in the way he was completely destroying her. He removed his other hand from her hip and reached to grab her arms, pulling them behind her back and pinning them tightly together on her lower back. Y/n shrieked in pleasure, sweat dripping down the sides of her face.

Jungkook moved his hips skillfully as he fucked into her, his eyes remaining on the view of her ass trembling as his cock glistened with her juices. It was beautiful and it only made his cock pulse with anticipation. He bit down on his lip as groans poured from his chest. never in a million years did he ever think he would be fucking his neighbor but never in a million years did he ever want to stop.

Y/n felt her clit vibrate against the toy, the nerves there buzzing with enjoyment. Her arousal dripped from between her legs onto the silicone material and down Jungkook’s hand, but he kept it pressed there while he hammered into her. She didn’t know if she liked it rough but whatever it was, he was doing, she wanted him to keep going.  

“Come for me baby” he moaned, licking his lips as if he was tasting her juices in his mouth. “I know how badly you want to come” his hand came down harshly against her ass cheek again and Y/n responded with a yelp. Y/n was bent over, her tits flowing past her dress and her hair a mess, but she could only focus on the feeling of Jungkook’s balls slapping against her clit, the bullet that worked hard to keep up with Jungkook’s thrusts, and the way this man was fucking her into oblivion.

It felt good, fuck that, it felt amazing.

Jungkook plunged into her pussy with such need, with such desire that she was sure he was close to his climax as well. Y/n’s walls clenched around his cock, urging him to come undone inside of her and Jungkook groaned loudly, his hips beginning to move with a mind of their own as he searched for his own relief.

“Ah'm gonna come” Y/n yelled, her legs giving out from under her as they began to tremble, but Jungkook held her, and gave her the support she needed. He pressed her against the mirror and continued his pace, his eyes trailing to the reflection in front of them.

“Look at us baby, look how good you look while I fuck into you” he whispered into Y/n’s ear, his eyes falling on her hooded eyes and reddened cheeks. Her walls were tight and warm, and he knew he wouldn’t last long, his hand fell on her hip once more, gripping it there while he continued to drive into her quickly. Y/n couldn’t take her eyes from his strained arms, the way his veins stuck out from underneath the skin as he gave her his all, it was almost poetic and that’s all it took for her to reach the peak, her body shuddering against the wall and Jungkook’s chest. Y/n couldn’t hear anything, her eyes falling tightly shut as her orgasm rippled through her body. Her senses were completely gone as she tried to control herself and then there was a sudden warmness dripping from her core, it dripped down her legs and onto the floor.

“Fuck, you squirted baby” Jungkook groaned, his hips buckled and with one last hard thrust, he came into her quenched walls. He let out a trail of curse words Y/n couldn’t make out, too stuck on the way she had unraveled.

She had never felt something so euphoric, and she felt guilty about it.

Jungkook removed the toy that had remained pressed against her clit and threw it on the floor beside them. the bullet buzzed and jolted on the floor before turning off. Y/n blinked her eyes open and stared at the floor in shock, the little fucking thing had finally given out after tormenting her for so long, but she was too high off her orgasm, unable to find any other emotion but relief.

She turned over and looked up at Jungkook, his face was flushed just like hers and sweat dripped from his forehead as he adjusted his dick back in his sweats, a small smirk appearing on his face once he glanced back at her. He reached down to grab her thong and assisted her with slipping it back up her legs, his stare remaining on her. He took in how her chest rose and fell with each harsh breath she took. His fingers glided upward against the sides of her legs as he brought her panties back, his hands landing on the sides of her hips before grabbing the hem of her dress and sliding the fabric down to its rightful place.

Y/n was beyond embarrassed and sore, she didn’t know what to say to the man who had just fucked her literally senseless. Thank You? no that was fucking ridiculous. She reached for her bottle of water and extended her arm out to Jungkook, offering him some refreshment, it was the best she could do given the circumstances.

“Here, drink some” she smiled while Jungkook reached for the bottle, removing the cap and bringing it to his lips, taking a large gulp.

“don’t use those stupid toys anymore, next time just knock on my door” Jungkook muttered, passing her the bottle. Y/n nodded biting down on her lip before taking a drink herself.

“Hello! Is everyone okay? we are coming in to get you out” a voice yelled from outside the elevator doors. They both giggled at each other before innocently standing side by side waiting to be freed from the confined space.  

© 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x oc #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #bts x reader #bts smut #bts fanfiction #kpop smut #jeon jungkook x reader #bts ffs #bts au #jungkook au #jungkook headcanons

[kitkatscabinet]

Don't feed him he'll come back (3)

Simon riley x neighbour reader

summary: The ghost that lives in your apartment block is a solitary man, people tend to stay out of his way, giving him a wide berth. You can't help but think he seems a little bit lonely, cue pestering him with bad jokes and food.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: making out, alcohol consumption.

Part 1 here, Part 2 here.

You start the next day riding the high of the previous night. You feel ridiculous, you’ve had relationships before, had been in love before, but the butterflies that stir in your gut whenever you so much as think of Simon put anything you’ve ever felt to shame.

It’s a little pathetic, you haven’t even kissed him. Not to mention you’ve no idea how he even feels about you. Simon’s an incredibly difficult man to read, where you wore your heart on your sleeve, Simon kept his cards incredibly close to his chest. You knew he at least held some affection for you, otherwise he’d never tolerate you dragging him from his apartment into yours. Something that feels dangerously like hope swells in your chest when you remember how tenderly he’d tucked you in and you desperately tried to stamp it out.   

Casting your mind back, you attempt to pinpoint exactly where along the path you’d fallen so thoroughly and irrevocably in love with the mysterious neighbour that scared the shit out of so many tenants. Was it when you’d first seen his face? 

No that wasn’t it, although, Simon was one of the most stunning men you’d ever seen. You’d been speechless when he’d revealed his face, something you’d been teased for relentlessly, his cocky smirk appearing in the subject of your dreams. 

It had to have been before that though, because even if Simon was the ugliest man alive, you’d still love him. 

Perhaps it had been when he’d first sat down across from you at the small kitchen counter, large bulk and dark clothing incredibly out of place against the backdrop of your colourful and plushie-filled apartment. It was the first time you’d ever seen him nervous, or rather the first time you could tell he was. But for all that he initially seemed out of place, seeing him in the sanctity of your home made your heart sing with affection. 

(Though a part of you acknowledges that your heart has belonged to Simon Riley from the moment he laughed at one of your stupid jokes, it just took a while for your brain to catch up to what your heart already knew.)

You’d never meant to fall in love with the neighbour who’d reeked of loneliness, loneliness that you’d unfortunately recognised and silently vowed to do your best to alleviate. You’d never intended for your feelings to bloom and grow into a garden that now centred around Simon Riley.  

But they had. They had and no matter what you did you knew they weren’t likely to be stomped out any time soon. 

Knocking on his door that night you try to douse the disappointment that fills you when he doesn’t answer. It wasn’t often that Simon was called away so abruptly that he didn’t even have time to let you know but it still happened occasionally. Sending him a swift text you wish him a safe deployment and sign it off with a new joke you think he’d appreciate. 

The days pass much the same. You wake, think about Simon, send him a text and continue about your day. Although you're used to the radio silence it’s like the acknowledgement of your feelings makes the worry and restlessness ten times worse. 

When the three-month mark hits with no indication that Simon has even seen your texts, your worry starts to turn into an all-encompassing panic. More than once you’d been so distracted that you’d made a mistake at work, earning the concern of your coworkers and friends as you were unusually out of it. 

You want to reassure him but you can’t even reassure yourself. What if he was dead? Would you ever even find out? You weren’t family, there would be no obligation to let you, a random stranger, know. Is this how you were doomed to spend the rest of your life, wondering what had happened to your beloved Simon?

Another two months pass and you’re nothing short of a nervous wreck, your dreams and waking thoughts filled with awful scenarios of Simon being tortured, dying or dead. You can’t sleep, can’t even bring yourself to cook, because it reminds you so painfully of him. 

The perpetual state of simply not knowing starts to become too much to bear and you’re on the brink of doing something truly desperate when you run into your landlord. You’re on good terms but he’d not exactly someone you’d ever gone out of your way to speak to. Now, however, you were practically tripping over yourself to catch his attention, not even bothering with small talk. “Have you heard anything from Simon?”

The man’s confusion is palpable and it takes a few minutes of stilted and baffled conversation before he discerns who you’re asking after. “Ah, the man with the mask,” he gestured towards his face, “he terminated his lease a few weeks ago, odd really, still had half a year left.” The conversation may have continued for a little longer but you didn’t hear, your responses filtering through on autopilot. 

The soft material of your quilt against the bare skin of your arms, signifying your return to the safety of your bed, is what finally snaps you from your dazed stupor. All of the frantic worry, concern, fear morphing into an apoplectic level of sheer fury. Because Simon was apparently fine. Not only was he fucking fine, he was doing the one thing you’d never thought him possible of, ignoring you. 

He was fucking ghosting you. 

They say there are five stages of grief. You’ve completely skipped over denial and are stuck on anger, bargaining and acceptance won’t happen and you refuse to let yourself be depressed. Thus, anger it is, and boy is there months of pent-up rage. 

Work becomes central to your life, the only thing stopping you from completely crashing and burning, Icarus falling from grace, punishment for falling too hard and too fast for what was unattainable. 

You work yourself to the bone just so you can sleep at night without the visage of brown eyes and soft ashy curls infringing on the corners of your consciousness. It’s not sustainable, you know it, your friends know it and your boss knows it. You must look destroyed too because you don’t think your boss has ever encouraged someone to take a break in her entire history working for the company. 

It only takes one day of rest before the anger-fueled agitation thrumming through your veins has you pacing relentlessly, your nails are chewed down to stubs and you think you may actually hurt someone if you don’t do something. It’s a bit of a Hail Mary, you know, but you still let out a scream of irritation when none of your friends are free to get blind on a weekday for an impromptu night out. Still, it’s a minor setback and one that your agitation-fueled self won’t be put off by. 

Your room is a mess, clothes strewn out all over your bed and floor as you try to find the sluttiest thing you own. Bingbong meows discontentedly as you shove him off a pile of your tops and you simply scowl at the little fat fuck that usually brought you so much joy. However, you do give him goodbye kisses when you finally amble out of your front door and call an Uber.

To your dismay, the man driving you is chatty, even when you give short, terse answers that could not be more clearly a screaming invitation to leave you the fuck alone. He throws you hungry looks in the rearview mirror that makes you want to pull your skin off. You may have dressed to get attention but not from this kind of creep. The car barely rolls to a stop before you jump out, booking it double time to get yourself double parked with some drinks. 

You’ve sequestered yourself at the edge of the bar counter, away from the crowd but still close enough to call for drinks on demand. It’s about five drinks in, sculled far too fast for you to keep up properly when you sense a man slide into the seat next to you. Dark hair, blue eyes, devilish grin and when he opens his mouth a delicious Scottish accent flows out. The complete opposite of Simon. 

Perfect. 

“Buy you a drink?” You were never one to turn down free drinks, especially not from handsome men, not even when your heart still screamed for Simon. Firmly pushing down all thoughts of puppy brown eyes you flash your own version of a flirty smirk, turning to face the man so your knees brush his. 

The conversation flows so naturally that for those few moments suspended in time, you really do forget about Simon. It’s clear that both of you are simply searching for some carnal relief and that knowledge helps you to release your last few inhibitions. Just when you contemplate sliding off the stool and leading him away to a dark corner to have your way he slips up and mentions his team. 

“Team?” You croak, a mixture of disbelief and dread building. 

“Aye, me taskforce. Am in the military.” He must see the way the corners of your mouth are now downturned, your left eye twitching slightly as your mind once again flits toward the blond man who had stolen and then shattered your heart. “Bad experience with a military lad?” There’s no hostility in his tone, just genuine intrigue and you allow yourself to relax once more, focusing intently on his baby blues. 

“Two actually” you snort exasperatedly, chest panging a little at the thought of your deceased brother. Swallowing, you regained your nerve, stepping between his spread legs and loosely swung your arms around his neck. “Best not make it a third yeah?” you whispered against his lips, liquid confidence flowing in your veins after far too many cocktails. 

A moan reverberates in your chest, caught by Johnny’s, he’d told you to call him Johnny, tongue as his warm hands pulled you to sit on one of his thighs. The muscled flesh grinding upwards and causing you to yelp, your hands grabbing onto his shoulders to stabilise yourself. Somewhere the logical part of your mind, the part dulled dangerously by spirits, is screaming that you’re still very much in public but the heartbroken and horny part wins out as you continue to make out with the Scottish stranger built like a god. 

His mouth attaches itself to your neck and your eyelids flutter shut as your hands move to tangle in his hair, tugging harshly to ground yourself from the onslaught of sensations Johnny’s providing your pent-up body with. 

Just as one of his palms slips below your shirt you’re suddenly being ripped off the man with a surprising gentleness that you don’t have much time to ponder on before you’re shrieking as you watch Johnny get punched in the jaw. 

The alcohol has thoroughly distorted your vision and the dim lighting doesn’t help but the fire in your veins is doused with icy despair as you quickly recognise the large bulk of the man who’d just laid out poor Johnny. The tattoos covering his arm and that goddamn skull mask were simply unmistakable. 

“Simon!” Your shrill voice is joined by Johnny’s own pained and confused groan as all three of you struggle to assess what’s just happened. 

“Wait, Johnny?” Simon sounded equally as confused, though his chest was still heaving in… anger?

“You know each other?” You cross your arms defensively, drunk brain trying to catch up on the turn of events. You refuse to look at Simon, instead staring at Johnny as he pulls himself up and you wait for an explanation. 

“Teammates” Johnny spits out a little blood and you can’t help the somewhat hysterical laugh that bubbles forth. 

Teammates. 

What were the fucking odds? Of all the attractive men and women frequenting this specific bar you almost shack up with one of Simon’s presumably closest friends. The evil vindictive part of you screams to go through with it anyway, though given Johnny’s sudden wariness and dawning horror as he connects some sort of mental dots you doubt that would be happening. 

Huffing, you turned from the two men and gathered your belongings as quickly as possible, hoping to make a hasty escape in the confusion. Hoping to escape before Simon could see you cry. 

Whatever deities existed seemingly weren’t on board with your plans and your attempt to skirt around Simon is instantly thwarted as he firmly but gently grabs your bicep. 

“Let me go,” you curse the way your voice wavers traitorously even through gritted teeth and you wince when you realise you can’t even bring yourself to say your name. Simon remains silent and if anything his grip even tightens a little, as if he were afraid you would slip through his fingers into nothingness. Incredibly audacious of him considering what he’d put you through these last few months. 

“Simon lad, I’m sorry, I dinnae ken they were-” Simon cuts off Johnny’s apology with a wave and curt nod that’s very clearly dismissive. Johnny, the traitorous bastard that he is, simply smiles, bids you farewell and then leaves you to deal with the brute that broke your heart. 

Stubbornly you refuse to face him, even when his gruff voice begs you multiple times. Evidently, Simon gets tired of your refusal and forces your eyes to focus on his with a forceful, guiding hand on your chin. Equal parts dismay, arousal and anger wage war in your body at the action and you bite the inside of your cheek so hard you taste the metallic rust of blood. 

The silence is damning and though his grip loosens it remains cupping your chin and sliding up to caress your cheek. He’s wearing that stupid skull balaclava and as such you can only see his eyes. Those godforsaken pools of weariness and tenderness that threaten to pull you in until you drown in them. His thumb gently caresses your lip, still swollen from Johnny’s machinations and you force yourself to speak, to display your hurt before he somehow worms his way back into your good graces. 

“What? What could you possibly want from me Simon? Haven’t you done enough?” There’s a vulnerability, a defeatedness in your voice that you hadn't meant to let slip but the man catches it, you know he does. Because though you hate to admit it, at this point, even after months apart, you think Simon might know you better than you know yourself. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s a pathetic notion and when he doesn’t elaborate it causes you to finally wrench away. You barely make it over the threshold of the exit when suddenly Simon is there once more, crowding into your space with the desperation of a man starved. His arms wrap around you like a vice, trapping your back against his chest. 

“Please.” His voice is a hoarse whisper carried away by the wind, just for your ears. “Please, I know I fucked up, please just let me explain.” His body shakes a little against you and you stand there in the cool night air fighting an internal battle. Simon Riley hurt you. 

Hurt you far greater than any man or woman had ever managed. 

And yet. And yet. 

You still loved him so much it burned. 

“Ok.” Your voice is croaky, reedlike and thin as your mouth moves without your brain’s permission. 

“Ok?” Simon’s head darts up from where it had been resting against you, voice watery and full of childlike hope that you find yourself nodding. 

“Ok. But you only get one chance.” Simon all but goes boneless against you, apologies and thanks spilling past his lips like wildfire but you interrupt him before he could go too far. “Not here, my apartment,” you don’t particularly want him in your space, but you can’t do this in public either, “until then just… don’t speak.” Your voice cracks towards the end but neither of you acknowledges it, standing in strained silence as you wait for your ride home. 

Simon’s eyes burn holes in the side of your head but once again you refuse to look at him, staring out the window into the darkness of the cityscape as you try to mentally prepare for what’s about to come.

Tags: @innercollectivecomputer @cooliofango @pertinentpostmortem @ghostslillady @domaniquessidehoe2 @ilovehyperfixating @pauphs @skotchi @bunnyreaper @tokusho @ohworm-writes @penismonkey @daisychainsinknots @taman-a @guess-whos-now-a-mood @leclercdream @justarandommom @iwannabealocalcryptid @dd122004dd @actuallyhiswife @alexisv15 @perfectus-in-morte @waves-against-a-cliff @fog-sama @juvenillia

#x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #kat’s writing #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Too Many Beds

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist 

summary: you want nothing more than an excuse to sleep next to dean again

pairing: (pre-s1/s1) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 2.1k 

warnings: none really, language, bed sharing, kissing, mutual pining, idiots in love, brief mention of the death of reader’s dad

timeline: starts slightly before season one, ends near the beginning of season one

author’s note: a spin on the classic 'just one bed, what ever shall we do?' trope lol

You’d known Dean all your life, practically. You met him when you were six and he was eight; two lonely little kids stuck with absent (job-driven) fathers and baby brothers you felt responsible for. Over the course of the last eighteen-or-so years you ran into the Winchesters during hunts enough that you considered them family. 

When Sam left for college you were there for Dean and when you lost your dad in a hunting accident Dean was there for you. He actually stayed with you, not wanting you to hunt alone since your brother was off at college too.

So, for the last six months you’d been hunting with Dean (who hadn’t spoken to Sam for over a year).

“One room, two queens,” Dean said to the woman behind the counter, placing “his” credit card on the space between them before sliding it toward her.

“We’re all booked up I’m afraid,” she said.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I was actually about to turn on the no vacancy sign.”

“This is the third motel we’ve been to,” you said, “every one of them has been full—you’ve gotta have something!”

“I mean, there’s technically one room left but the heater’s out and my boss said not to let anyone sleep there because of that.”

There was a silent pause; you and Dean shared a knowing look.

“We’ll pay in cash, your boss ‘ll never know,” you told the woman. She smiled and nodded as you paid her with cash. 

“Room 209, my boss gets here at ten tomorrow morning so please leave before then.” She handed you the key and you nodded in thanks.

You had underestimated just how cold the room could be, but when you unlocked and opened the door you understood why the owner didn’t want anyone staying here.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mumbled, following you into the room and feeling the cold air. “We’re gonna freeze our asses off in here!” he quickly closed the door behind him, hoping the icy air hadn’t swept any snow into the room.

“It’s either this or we sleep in the Impala,” you shrugged, “and, no offense to your car, but it’s fuckin’ uncomfortable to sleep in.”

“And there’s only one bed,” Dean sighed.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” you told him, ignoring his complaints. 

**

“Are you shivering or crying?” Dean asked.

You rolled over so you could meet his stare; “Shivering! It’s fuckin’ cold in here!”

“You wanna…cuddle up, maybe?” he asked hesitantly.

“Excuse me?” you laughed a little.

“Look, I’m not thrilled about it either, but it’s cold in here and unless we both wanna catch fucking pneumonia we better be smart and share body heat.”

You sighed, weighing your options; “Fine. But we never, and I mean never speak of this again, you hear me?”

“Understood.” He nodded.

You rolled back over as he scooted closer to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you into his chest.

“This okay?” he asked quietly, his lips ghosting the back of your head.

“Yeah,” you mumbled back. “Thank you, Dean.”

**

You woke up to the sound of Dean snoring loudly. You were used to his snores, sure, but he’d never been this close. He was laying on his stomach and resting on your chest; his mouth open and his hair tickling your neck. Your first reaction was annoyance but then it quickly washed away as you realized you didn’t want to move a muscle, so Dean could continue sleeping. 

And the more you laid there, listening to his snores, the more you realized how comfortable you were…even in such a physically uncomfortable situation. 

As the time passed and the sun began to rise, you cursed the light that was slowly but surely peeking through the curtain and onto Dean’s face. 

“Morning,” he mumbled to you as he lifted his head up. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his right hand before wiping his mouth. “Sorry,” he chuckled, noticing the small spot on your gray sweater dampened with his drool.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled back. “I think it’s your sweater anyway.”

“I thought it looked familiar.”

He rolled off of you and out of bed. 

You watched as he padded across the dirty carpet and over to the small kitchen. He turned on the coffee maker and the loud, off putting grinding noise made his face scrunch before he quickly shut off the (definitely broken) machine.

“So much for coffee,” he grumbled. “You gonna sit there all morning or you wanna get outta here? We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

“I’m getting up,” you replied. You would usually be annoyed at him for rushing you to wake up, but this time the annoyance was…different. Something about his bedhead, the way his lips were pouting over the lack of caffeine, and how he looked in his brown Henley and baggy sweats just made you wanna hold him again. All you wanted was to pull him back into bed with you and hold him in your arms forever.

**

You were beyond frustrated at this point. How many stupid fucking hotels had to have vacant rooms with two beds and a functional heating system!? 

It had been nearly six months since you and Dean shared a bed and you had been looking for an excuse to sleep next to him ever since. 

But the last couple weeks had been different—Sammy was back. Yes, you loved Sam like a brother, but you missed getting to be alone with Dean. You missed sitting shotgun in the Impala and watching him drive.

Sam definitely noticed the way you looked at Dean, but the younger Winchester didn’t say a word. Without being too obvious about it, he tried to do little things that would let you be close to his brother. He’d sit in a certain chair or part of the couch so that you and Dean had no choice but to sit together. Or he’d make some lame excuse so that he got his own room while you and Dean had to share. “I need to do some more research and I need the light, why don’t you two just sleep in the other room?” for example. 

**

“Two rooms, please,” Dean said, reaching into his coat pocket for his wallet.

“Unfortunately we’ve only got one room left,” the cashier replied. 

You almost couldn’t believe your ears, fucking finally!

“Oh, that’s too bad,” you faked your best frustrated look, of course Sam saw right through that.

“Well, I am not sharing with either or you,” he said with a teasing smile. 

“There’s actually a pullout couch in that room, as luck would have it,” the cashier informed the three of you. 

God fucking damn it, you thought to yourself.

**

It was barely after two when you felt the bed behind you dip, and you shook yourself awake. 

“The hell?” you asked, still half asleep.

“The pullout couch isn’t working,” Dean mumbled quietly. “You mind sharing with me?”

You smiled a little and scooted closer into his arms, indicating you were okay with him sleeping next to you.

“Of course I don’t mind sharing with you,” you whispered and his grip tightened.

**

“I’m gonna go get breakfast,” Sam announced. “I’m assuming you want your usual?”

Dean put his right pointer finger to his lips and furrowed his brows angrily. He gestured to you as you slept and Sam got the message. 

“Usual is good,” Dean whispered before Sam left.

Dean stayed laying perfectly still as you slept on his chest, soft snores escaping your lips and to Dean they were the sweetest sound. 

As you stirred awake slowly, he rubbed your back a little.

“Morning,” you mumbled, a small smile on your lips. “Where’s Sam?”

“He went to grab breakfast,” Dean told you. 

You furrowed your brows as you sat up, looked across the room, and realized something; “The pullout bed looks fine? I thought you said it wasn’t working?” You turned back to Dean, who had a sheepish grin growing on his lips.

“So…maybe I’ve just been looking for an excuse to sleep next to you again. Like we did back in that motel when the heat was out.”

“Really?” You attempted to hide the smile trying to find its way onto your face. 

“When we were checking in last night I noticed how your face lit up when they said there was only one room left,” Dean admitted. “And I saw that disappointed look you made when they said there was a pullout couch. So, am I wrong, or have you been wanting an excuse too?”

“I really liked sleeping next to you that night,” you said, avoiding eye contact. “And you’re right, I have been hoping for another ‘oh no just one bed, guess we’ll have to share’ situation but…”

“But what?” Dean asked when you trailed off. You looked down at him. 

“Dean, you and Sam have been like my brothers for as long as I can remember. I mean, Bobby practically raised all three of us and my actual brother as siblings! Your dad and my dad knew each other basically forever and I guess…I guess I figured our lives are too entangled for anything to ever actually happen between us. We’re family.”

“Chosen family, Y/n.” Dean smiled softly. “Doesn’t mean you have to be my chosen sister, you could be my chosen…you know…” 

You leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his full lips. 

“That,” Dean finished his previous statement. 

“Let’s just keep this between us for now, okay?” you suggested. “If Sam finds out, then your dad will find out, and he’ll immediately tell my brother, then before we know it Bobby—”

“I get the picture, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled before kissing you again. He put his hands on your cheeks as he sat up. He pulled you onto his lap, your legs now straddling his hips. His hands moved to your shoulders then trailed down to your lower back as yours went into his hair. You pulled away from him after a moment, huge smiles on both your faces.

You looked into his eyes, his truly beautiful eyes, and you bit your bottom lip ever so slightly. Your right hand rested on his left cheek, your thumb stroking his skin lovingly. 

“You’re awesome, Dean Winchester,” you whispered. 

“You’re fuckin’ incredible,” he replied before he kissed you again. “And gorgeous, too,” he added. “You know how fuckin’ annoying it’s been, sleeping without you every night since that one time?”

“I do know, Dean, I’ve been just as annoyed about it.”

Dean kissed you one more time before he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, tucking his head into your neck. You wrapped your arms around him too, pressing your lips to his temple.

You pulled out of the hug so you could once again look at his face. Resting your forehead on his, you smiled before you kissed him again. 

“Breakfast,” Sam called out as he opened the door, “is served!”

You and Dean froze for a split second before you hurried off of him.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Sam said, “did I interrupt you two?”

“What?” you scoffed. “Of course not!”

“Interrupt? There’s nothing to interrupt?” Dean added.

“Oh…wow you two are fast,” Sam mumbled, shaking his head as he made his way to the kitchen before putting the food down. “Well, pancakes, eggs, and bacon from the continental breakfast.” He gestured to the food now on the table. “Hope you’re hungry.”

As Sam sat down to eat, you looked at Dean anxiously. Say something you begged him with your eyes.

“Sammy,” Dean started as he got out of bed, “would you mind uh…not telling dad? About me and Y/n…kissing just now? When we find him, I mean.”

“Dad’s never really been invested in your love life, but he’s not an idiot,” Sam laughed. 

“So…you are gonna tell him?” Dean furrowed his brows in frustration.

“Dean, he knows you two are together, it’s not some big secret?” Sam replied, shoveling more food into his mouth. “Damn that’s good.”

“Okay, just hold on—what?” Dean asked. “What do you mean dad knows? There’s been nothing to know since like four minutes ago?”

“Wait,” Sam stopped eating and fully turned to face you and his brother, “are you trying to tell me this is the first time you two have kissed?” Sam furrowed his brows deeply as you and Dean both nodded. “So…never in high school?” You shook your heads again. “That prom we crashed?”

“Sam you were there the whole time? When would we have kissed?” you asked.

“Huh,” Sam let out a laugh. “I genuinely thought you two had been a thing since like… ‘98.”

“What!?” you and Dean exclaimed in unison.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester comfort #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural fic #supernatural fluff #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #dean x reader #by mind empty just fictional people #by jean

[ninebluehearts]

It’s me again 😭🙈 Im in love with the answers of request 💖 just one word ✨amaizing✨ ! I have one more please ! What will be reaction of William Tell if his s/o fer pregnant and how many kids he want ? He has vibes of daddy ´s girl

(Again don’t answer if you are Not confortable) love u 💖

I'm honestly so glad you like them!! Your asks are just *chiefs kiss*👌💕 and I love you too babes!🥺 💕

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William would probably forget how to breathe right- he'd be so nervous about becoming a Father, but I think that he would end up loving it, honestly! And when you got to be around six or seven months pregnant and found out it was a girl? Oh lord, he actually cried. He's always secretly wanted a daughter, but he would've been happy with a boy too!

After the baby's first birthday he'd ask if you wanted another one- he loves being a Dad and I think he would be satisfied with three or four mini me's.

#william tell head cannons #william tell hc #william tell x reader #william tell #the card counter #the card counter hc #william tell as a dad 🥺 #mini williams omg #💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙thoughts #thank you for the ask!