#y2k karaoke party
Note
“Earned it” by The Weeknd for Levi Ackerman- Smut + Fluff
thank you
Earned It
Pairing: Levi Ackerman x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~7.0k
cw: yakuza au, modern setting au, adult themes, gang-related violence, mentions of blood, explicit language, fluff, smut – fingering, cunnilingus, PIV sex (doggy style), cream pie, unprotected sex
Summary: Levi is the current leader of a Yakuza organization called the Ackerman Clan. Fearless, ruthless, cold-blooded. Your deadbeat father owes a debt to his Uncle Kenny after borrowing a sum of money to gamble on horse races many years ago, a debt that hasn’t been forgotten. He has since abandoned you and one day, the Ackerman Clan tracks you down, claiming that you are now the owner of this debt. Without the means to pay for it out of pocket, Levi employs you to be his personal housekeeper until you’ve earned the money to pay it off.
Author’s Note: Wow okay my first Levi fic EVER and I totally got carried away! I had so much fun writing this one, so I hope the rest of you enjoy it! Thanks for the request for the y2k karaoke party! This gave me the perfect excuse to finally write for Levi. MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune. Thank you for reading! Tagging @crazychaoticizzy!
It's an average Wednesday when you receive a call from your mother in the middle of your workday. She usually doesn’t call unless it’s important, so you answer, already nervous for what she’s about to tell you. “Mom? Are you okay?”
Her tone is somber. “Honey, please come home. Now.” You can hear other people speaking in the background, alarm bells immediately ringing in your head. It’s been you and your mother alone for the past decade now, abandoned by your father before your high school graduation. You have no idea who would be in your home at this time. Freaking out, you ask, “What’s going on? What’s happening?!”
Before she can respond, there’s shuffling, then a man you don’t recognize on the other line. “You should listen to your mother.” His voice is cold, terse, sinister. It sends a chill down your spine.
Immediately, you excuse yourself from work, briefly describing a family emergency to your boss. You hop on the closest train, jittering in your seat, sweating bullets, stomach tight with anxiety. All you need to know is that your mom is safe. As soon as you’re out of the station, you remove the heels off your feet to run home. When you arrive, you notice a black car with tinted windows parked in the driveway and the front door already swung open. Winded and out of breath, you double over with the impulse to vomit, already expecting the worse. You swallow down the urge, collecting yourself, and walk inside.
You’re met by three strangers: two men and a woman. She looks young, gaze cold on yours, studying you carefully. The taller of the men is significantly older, hunched over, lanky, with a cigarette between his crooked smile. The other is short, but his domineering presence seems to overwhelm the rest of them. The cold gaze, the stagnant frown, the tightness in his brows. There’s an aura to him that shows he’s not one to be messed with. Before you can even confirm, you know that this man is the one who spoke to you earlier on the phone. Their leader.
Your mom is seated on the couch, cowering in fear when she calls out to you. “Honey!”
You step towards them, wanting to approach her, but you’re stopped by the woman, staring daggers at you, her hand concealed inside her jacket, ready to attack if necessary. It’s a warning: Don’t come any closer or else. “Mikasa, relax. She ain’t even armed,” the older man says. He points to her, winking at you. “Sorry about my niece; she’s got some anger issues. Runs in the family, actually.”
Without removing her gaze from you, she mutters, “Shut up, Kenny.”
He laughs, puffs of smoke escaping his mouth. He removes the cigarette, tapping the ashes onto the hardwood floor of your living room before stepping closer towards you. “I should be the one upset here.” His eyes scan your figure up and down, smirking. “Right, Levi?”
You shiver from his wicked expression, glancing at your mother who stares wide-eyed at you in a panic. “What’s the meaning of this?” you ask shakily.
The shorter man, apparently named Levi, comes forward, glaring at you. “You owe the Ackerman Clan money. Two million yen with all the interest that’s been accruing for the past ten years.”
“We never borrowed money from you!” you argue.
“You didn’t. But your father did,” Kenny interjects. “The dumbass didn’t know how to gamble on the right horse. Lost each race and came crawling back to me for more and more money. I gave him two years to pay me back without interest, but I suppose he ran off on you and your poor mother before he could pay it. Now, it’s way past due. I need my money back.”
That no-good, deadbeat father of yours. Of course he’s the one behind this. He’s always had a gambling addiction, ever since you were little. Borrowed money left and right from distant relatives, friends, coworkers, and apparently strangers. You thought he’d at least have the decency to pay them off on the occasions he actually scored big, but who are you kidding? All he spent his winnings on was more booze to drown out the fact that he never cared or provided for his family. You shake your head, tears welling in your eyes. “You should be asking him for the money, not us.”
Levi’s eyes narrow. “You don’t think we already tried looking for him? We can’t find him. He’s gone. Someone else has to be responsible for it now. And that means his wife and his kid. You.”
“We don’t have that kind of money just laying around,” you say, hoping that somehow, this Yakuza gang is nice enough to forgive the debt.
Kenny barks a laugh. “Well, you’re shit out of luck then, huh? Just like your lousy father.”
You wince at his harsh words, simultaneously agreeing with him. Levi sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “If you can’t pay off this debt within the next three months, we’ll be forced to take more severe action.”
“What do you mean?” you stutter. A variety of cruel punishments flash through your head, causing your knees to wobble in fear, though you manage to stay upright.
“You don’t want to find out,” he threatens with a dark look.
You swallow loudly, unable to hide your dread any longer. Crying, you fall to your knees in a begging position, peering up at Levi with weepy eyes. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just don’t hurt my mom. Leave her out of this.”
Your mother sobs into her hands, your name muffled against her palms. Even through your blurred vision, you notice Levi’s expression waver just the slightest.
“Maybe she can work for you,” Mikasa suggests. Her tone has changed to one of sympathy, unexpectedly considering her intimidating demeanor moments ago.
Levi scoffs. “And what would she do for me? I doubt she can fight.”
There’s a pause as you watch them contemplate your fate. Kenny is the first one to offer an answer. “Housekeeper. She can be your housekeeper!”
Levi grimaces at the suggestion. “Excuse me?”
Kenny walks towards him, ruffling his nephew’s hair, much to his dismay. Levi swats him away, scowling as his uncle explains, “You spend so much goddamn time cleaning your own house, it’s about time you hire someone to do it for you. You’re the leader of the Ackerman Clan now. Time is money. You can’t be wasting it dusting when you can just make someone else do it for you.” He squats, legs spread wide, meeting you face-to-face. “Can you clean?”
You wipe away the tears streaming down your face, nodding.
“Can you cook?”
You nod again, more confidently this time.
He slaps his knee. “Well, there you go! Looks like we found the solution. You’re hired. Levi will pay you at the end of each day. Your wages after three months should be enough to cover the debt you owe me. If you work overtime, you’ll earn extra cash. Sound good?” He sticks his hand out, waiting for you to shake on it.
Three months of housekeeping and cooking for the leader of a Yakuza gang, who already looks like he despises you? It’s either that or whatever punishment he originally has in mind, which sounds much more painful and ominous.
Before you agree, you ask, “What about my regular job?”
He strokes his chin, thinking. “Damn, forgot about that. Well, Little Levi here can compensate you for that as well. You’ll have to quit it in the meantime, but this gig is much better, don’t cha think?”
Levi raises his voice, angry now. “Don’t I get a say in this?! Who said I have the money to pay her?!”
Kenny waves him off, smirking. “You don’t drink, you don’t gamble, and you don’t fuck. So what else are you doing with all that money?”
At this, Levi gapes at his uncle, blushing. “I’m the fucking captain here, aren’t I? I won’t allow this.”
Kenny rolls his eyes, standing up to stretch his back. “Fine. Got a better idea? We don’t have all fucking day to argue about this, you know.”
After a few more disgruntled huffs from Levi without any other real suggestions, you are officially hired as Levi Ackerman’s housekeeper.
~~~
Levi doesn’t need a fucking housekeeper. He’s the cleanest goddamn person in this entire godforsaken planet. Sure, he spends at least two hours at the start of his morning doing household chores to ensure that everything in his home is spick and span. But what’s so wrong about that? It’s the only solace he finds in this cruel world. The only aspect of his life that he can control.
So, when his new hire arrives to his house seven o’clock sharp the very next day, Levi’s already in a bad mood. And when she smiles brightly at him, greeting him, “Good morning!” in an all-too-cheery voice that drips with enthusiasm and spirit despite the shitty situation she’s in, he can’t help but become even more irritated. She can’t possibly be excited about this. It’s all a façade, an act. Fake. He’s seen it before, from so-called friends, family members, strangers on the street. People only connect with him if there’s something to gain from it. And in this case, the money to pay her father’s debt is her end-goal, and nothing else. He reminds himself that she’s not here for him. No one ever is.
He doesn’t respond to her, turning on his heel to lead her inside. Without saying so, she removes her shoes, tucking them into an empty slot on the shoe rack, following him. Unfortunately, Kenny’s been here since half an hour ago, taking his usual breakfast: a cup of black coffee and a frozen waffle, toasted until lukewarm. And of course, there’s already crumbs on the table, but Levi ignores it, knowing that she’s responsible for this mess now, not him.
“Morning,” Kenny drawls, raising his mug to her. She waves, still nervous around them, naturally, but her smile stays on.
Levi hands her a sheet of paper, typed out with proper instructions. “Everything you need to know is on here. Unless you’re illiterate and can’t read, I won’t need to explain anything to you, right?”
She scans the document quickly, shaking her head at the end. “Seems simple enough.”
“My nephew here likes things spotless,” Kenny adds, spit flying out of his mouth as he chews the rest of his breakfast. “Total clean freak and perfectionist. He’ll be on your ass about a simple speck of dust.”
“It’s not clean if there’s still dust,” he emphasizes.
Her attention goes to the fridge. “What about meals? What do you like to eat?”
“I’m not picky. I usually don’t eat breakfast and lunch is brought to me at the office. So dinner is the only meal you have to cook. Like I said, I’m not picky. But it better not be instant ramen or something. I’m not paying you to feed me that processed shit.” Truthfully, he already eats that junk for lunch, often opting for fast food because it’s quick and easy while he’s out on a job. But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her. He shoots a glare at his uncle when he notices him snickering to himself, clearly aware of his less-than-ideal diet.
After a brief tour of the house, not including his bedroom, which will remain off limits, him and Kenny leave to start the day. Levi is reluctant at first, unsure if she can live up to his high standards of tidiness, but even he can admit that it’s more productive when he arrives to their headquarters on time.
The day goes by smoothly; the extra two hours that Levi gains by entrusting another person to his usual morning ritual proves to be beneficial for both him and his gang. They are able to add an extra stop to their daily rounds, collecting owed money from sleezy businesses and seedy underground organizations. They only resort to violence once, with Levi squeezing a man’s head between his shoe and the pavement until he coughs up the dough. In his eyes, today was a good day.
Kenny drops him off back home around eight when it’s already dark out. The lights are on, glowing through the shaded windows. He digs into his pocket for the keys, retrieving them to unlock the door, his nostrils immediately hit with a sensational aroma wafting from the kitchen. Sliding out of his shoes, he steps further inside, following the scent.
She’s leaning over the stove, steam puffing from whatever pan she’s cooking in. He drops his keys on the counter, clearing his throat to make his presence known.
“Hello, Mr. Ackerman,” she says, turning to face him. “Perfect timing. Dinner is just about ready. I’ll serve it to you now.”
He slides a chair out from the dining table, taking a seat, watching as she moves around the kitchen. She scoops white rice into a bowl, then the food onto a plate, setting it front of him. It looks delicious; glazed meat scattered with a variety of fresh vegetables. “It’s chicken stir fry,” she explains. “It isn’t gourmet or anything, but it’s hearty and filling. I hope you like it.”
He remains silent, holding a piece of broccoli at the end of his chopstick, blowing on it before putting it in his mouth. The sauce is savory, pairing well with the typically bland vegetable. He digs into the chicken, enjoying how juicy and flavorful it is. It’s nothing he hasn’t had before, but still; it’s tasty.
She stands beside him, watching him eat with a small grin on her face. “What would you like to drink?”
He swallows, replying, “I like tea. Hot tea. Decaf.”
“On it,” she says, heading back into the kitchen, filling a kettle with water to heat on the stove. Within ten minutes, she returns with a cup in one hand, the kettle in the other, pouring him freshly brewed tea.
It’s quiet, Levi eating peacefully while she continues to observe him. He’s not quite sure what to say; do they make small talk? Does he compliment her cooking? How do people engage with others during a time like this?
Her stomach growls loudly, which he immediately notices. He raises a brow at her, pointing his chopsticks towards the kitchen. “You should eat too. If you’re hungry.”
“Is that alright?”
He nods, looking down at his plate. “It’s better than watching me eat while you’re starving, right?”
She laughs, going back into the kitchen once again. “Yes, of course.” She comes back, sitting across from him to start eating. Not knowing what else to discuss over dinner, Levi asks her about the chores she should have accomplished today, to which she reports back in detail. It sounds as if she went through eat item on the list, though the true test will be when he inspects it himself. Their conversation flows well; he usually hates conversing with people when it isn’t necessary. He can’t remember the last time he shared a homecooked meal with someone else. He’s always at home after work, alone. Mikasa is too busy with her own family, and Levi can hardly stand his uncle’s presence to begin with, so he always preferred being alone.
This, however, this he doesn’t mind. Surprisingly.
Before he gets too comfortable with the idea, he reminds himself once more that this is simply the deal they agreed to. There’s no room for sentimentality. She’s here because she was forced into this role, not because she wants to be here. This is business. This is temporary.
And with that in mind, Levi strengthens the integrity of the walls he barricades around him, determined not to let anyone but himself in.
~~~
Your first month of employment go by as smoothly as you hope it would be, given your circumstances. Every day, you arrive at Levi’s house seven in the morning on the dot, greeting him with a smile. You figured it wouldn’t do you any good to show your fear of the Yakuza in front of the leader himself. And, in all honestly, you weren’t actually that scared of him. While he’s cold and blunt most of the time, he hasn’t done anything to frighten you yet, aside from your initial meeting. It helps that you only see him for a few minutes in the morning when he lets you in, and at most an hour at the end of the day, when you share dinner together. Before you leave, he hands you an envelope with your day’s wages, and that’s that. Based on the lack of criticism, you assume that you’re doing a good enough job.
On the second month, you begin to make lunches for him in addition to your usual routine. Uncle Kenny had mentioned several times in secret that Levi eats fast food because of the convenience. Sometimes, he skips a meal all together when they’re especially busy.
When you arrive to his home, you greet him with your usual smile, while he gives you a curt nod, avoiding your gaze. He shouts behind him, “Kenny, let’s go!”
Before he walks out the door, you stop him, saying, “Oh, Mr. Ackerman! Before you leave, I prepared lunch for you.”
He whips around to face you, eyes narrowed as if you just insulted him. “What?”
Nervous now, you stammer, “I made you lunch. I heard that sometimes you skip meals, so I thought – ”
He steps towards you, glaring, not letting you finish. “This isn’t part of the list. I don’t need it. I don’t want it.” He turns on his heel, leaving you stunned as he heads for the car, slamming the door shut.
You scurry into the kitchen, face hot, reeling over his unpleasant reaction to your simple gesture. Kenny leans back in his chair, feet up on the table, chugging the rest of his coffee. “Morning.”
“Hi Kenny.” You wash your hands at the sink, processing what just happened, growing increasingly upset.
Kenny gets up, sliding his used mug beside you. “Thanks, darling.” Not wanting to waste your efforts, you call out to him, opening the fridge to retrieve the bento you prepared, handing it to him.
“What’s this?” he asks, smirking.
“I made it for Mr. Ackerman, but he doesn’t want it. I don’t want it to go to waste,” you explain.
He smiles, genuinely grateful, the expression you were mistakenly expecting from Levi. “Thank you. Take care.”
When he’s gone, you take a minute in the kitchen to relax, reminding yourself to stick to the list and not do anything extra just because you think he’d appreciate it. You’ve leaned your lesson based on today: Mr. Ackerman doesn’t appreciate anything or anyone. And you won’t be an exception.
~~~
Levi sulks silently in the car with his arms crossed over his chest, staring out the window while Kenny drives them to HQ. He’s replaying the interaction from earlier, recalling the hurt look in her eyes as he spat those harsh words to her. He’s an idiot. All he could have said was no thank you. He shouldn’t have berated her for doing something nice for him. At the same time, he didn’t want to appear vulnerable, like he needed her to do it for him. He doesn’t need her pity. He doesn’t need anyone to take care of him.
He catches Kenny shooting glances at him, but doesn’t say anything, knowing better than to rile his nephew up when he’s in one of these moods. They make it to headquarters as normal, and Levi goes about the day, almost forgetting about the incident. Almost.
Around noon, Kenny drives Levi and two of his henchmen across town to collect money from a client who’s been skipping out on payments recently. Levi doesn’t expect to resort to violence, so he stays inside the car while the two muscles go out and fulfill their orders. Kenny reclines, reaching his long arm towards the backseat, retrieving a small bento box. “Grub time.”
Levi scowls. “What are you doing?”
“Eating lunch, what do you think?” He uncovers it, licking his lips as his picks up a tamago sando from inside. It looks delicious, from the soft bread to the golden yellow filling. Levi’s stomach growls as he stares at his uncle bite into it. “Damn, that’s good!”
“Where did you get that?” he asks, already knowing the answer.
He shrugs, engulfing the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. “Your housekeeper. Said you didn’t want it, so she gave it to me instead. Shit, that’s good!”
Levi huffs through his teeth, annoyed, but also very hungry. He snatches it from his uncle’s lap, inspecting it himself. Kenny doesn’t protest, only chuckles, licking his fingers. It’s truly an enticing sight, much better than the typical burger and fries he’s used to. He picks it up delicately, relishing how pillowy the bread is between his fingers. It’s devoured quickly, and Levi regrets watching his uncle eat part it, hoping he had it all for himself. In the bottom layer of the bento box are baby carrots and sliced cucumbers, which Levi munches on until his crew comes back, knuckles a bit bloodied and a stack of cash in their hands.
At night, Levi enters the door, a pang of guilt in his chest. He doesn’t plan to mention it; he’d rather forget and move on, pretend it never even happened. Tonight’s dinner is yakisoba, a meal she has since perfected since starting a month ago. She serves it to him, pouring hot tea into his mug, then takes her usual spot, her expression neutral. She reports on each task she completed today, starting with the kitchen, where she cleans up whatever disgusting mess Kenny leaves at the table. She scrubs the counters until they’re sparkling, mops the floors, reorganizes the refrigerator, unloads the dishwasher from the night before. Next is the living room, where she vacuums the carpets, dusts all the drawers, wipes each and every appliance with a specialized solution to prevent streaks. Then It’s laundry, and she never mentions the splatters of blood that are sometimes on his dress shirts depending on what kind of day it is. She uses the exact method he uses to wash them until they look good as new, as if he isn’t part of the gang life.
She finishes her list, looking at Levi, waiting for his nod of approval, which he gives. She’s done a decent job so far; in fact, his home looks just as tidy as it did when he spent two hours each morning doing it himself. He stares down at his plate, eating the rest of his noodles in silence.
“Mr. Ackerman?”
His jaw clenches at the sound of his name, anticipating whatever she’s about to say. Without looking up, he mutters, “What?”
She clears his throat nervously. “Earlier today, about lunch. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overstep my boundaries. I hope you can forgive me.”
He senses her gaze on him, but he’s too embarrassed to meet it, slurping the rest of his food without responding. She doesn’t say anything else, leaving it at that. When he’s done, she gathers the dirty dishes and loads them into the dishwasher, starting the cycle. Levi goes into his room, stuffing her payment for today in an envelope, staring at his reflection in the mirror. Just say it. Don’t be an asshole. She doesn’t deserve it.
She waits for him at the doorway, coat and shoes on, ready to leave. He hands her the money, keeping his grip on it when she accepts it. “You don’t have to apologize. I ate it, and it was delicious. So…thank you.” He looks at her this time, wanting to convey to her that he truly means it.
Her eyes widen, clearly surprised by his sudden change in demeanor. He’s surprised himself; he just couldn’t let her leave thinking she didn’t anything wrong. “I’m sorry,” he adds. “For the way I reacted. I’m not used to people doing things like that for me.” He knows she doesn’t need an explanation from him, but he tells her anyways.
She smiles. “It’s okay. I’m happy to do it. I prepared another one for tomorrow.”
Nodding, he lets go, watching her slide the envelope into her bag. “Goodnight, Mr. Ackerman.”
He opens the door for her. “Levi. You can call me Levi. It makes me feel old when you call me that. We’re around the same age, right?”
She giggles, making his chest swell. “Right. Well then, goodnight Levi.”
He waits until she disappears into the distance, heading to the nearby train station. With the door shut, he leans against it, sighing heavily, his heart beating rapidly.
This is bad.
~~~
On the third month of working as a housekeeper and cook for Levi Ackerman, something extraordinary happens.
You’ve gotten more cordial with each other in the past few weeks, ever since you began making lunches for him on a regular basis. You know he isn’t picky when it comes to food, but you’ve noticed subtle differences when he thanks you for the meal, which he always does now. If it ends in a simple thanks, you know that it was ordinary. If he adds in a compliment, you know that he really likes it. So, you cook more of the foods that he particularly enjoys.
You’re still getting used to calling him by his first name. It still sounds foreign out of your mouth, almost like a treasured word you’re only supposed to say on special occasions. You still mostly call him Mr. Ackerman, though he doesn’t seem to mind.
Other than what you see of him in the mornings and nights, you have no idea what Levi gets up to the rest of his day. It’s an unwritten part of the deal; you keep your private life to yourselves. And, knowing he’s in the Yakuza, maybe it’s better you don’t know.
Tonight, you finish cooking dinner before Levi comes home. You cover the pan, keeping the oyakodon you prepared warm until he arrives, all the plates set up on the counter, ready for him. You sit in your usual chair, checking the clock: 8:30 PM, thirty minutes past his usual time. By nine, you start to worry. And by ten, your finger hovers over his contact information on your phone, tempted to call him, to make sure he’s okay. You debate with yourself for several minutes if you should go through with it. You were given this number only to use for emergencies. Would this be considered one? Surely, he has an entire team of people who look after him, being the leader and all. Why would he need you, his lowly housekeeper, looking out for him?
Deep down, it’s because you care. You care about him. You want him to be happy. And it’s not because he pays you at the end of the day. It’s because you truly, genuinely believe he deserves it. Even in the short time that you’ve known him, it’s plain to see how miserable he is in this life of crime. Dead eyes, permanent frown on his face, tense muscles from having no moment throughout his day to relax. No one, not even a Yakuza leader himself, deserves to be under this much stress.
You’re about ready to dial his number when you hear the distinct jingle of keys from the front door. Levi walks in, hunched over with his jacket tossed over his shoulder, big splotches of blood painted on his shirt. You can see it clearly even from the end of the hallway. He doesn’t greet you, doesn’t look at you, as he drags his feet into the living to plop himself onto the couch, sighing.
“Mr. Ackerman?” you call out, trembling. You’ve never seen him like this before. Is he injured? Or is he the one who did the injuring? Does it matter to you what the answer is? All you know is that you’re concerned about him and you want to be by his side.
~~~
Levi hears her but doesn’t respond. He sinks deeper into the couch, eyes shut, hoping she ignores him, not wanting her to see him in this sorry state. He listens to the sound of her footsteps approaching closer, then feels her sit beside him. With one eye open, he peeks at her, surprised to see her staring at him with genuine concern, a steaming mug of tea in her hands. “Mr. Ackerman,” she repeats.
“What do you want?” he asks tersely. He doesn’t mean for it to come out rudely. Or maybe he does to push her away. He doesn’t want her to witness this vulnerability, this weakness.
“I brought you some tea,” she answers quietly.
Before he can spit out an argument about how the caffeine will prevent him from sleeping, she adds, “It’s decaf, of course.”
He’s speechless for a moment, unable to come up with a smart response. His heart beats against his chest and he’s not sure what’s happening to him. Is he going into cardiac arrest? Or is this something different? Something good? Too exhausted to maintain the same frigid persona he puts up for her, he relaxes, reaching for her hands to grab the handle of the mug. He grazes her fingers wrapped around the ceramic, lingering for a second longer, then brings it to his lips, blowing air across the surface before taking a sip. It’s hot down his throat, filling his tired body with warmth and comfort.
He peeks at her once more, focusing on the gentle smile on her lips. “What are you so happy about?” he asks, taking another sip.
She looks down at her lap, shy now that she’s been called out. “I’m just happy you’re back in one piece.”
He scoffs, displaying his bruised and stained knuckles. “You call this one piece?”
She stares at his hands with terror or fascination, maybe even both. Levi can’t tell. All he knows is that she isn’t flinching away from him like he’s some monster; she leans closer, inspecting it carefully. “Hold on,” she says, standing up to retreat back into the kitchen.
Levi rests his head against the couch, stomach grumbling with hunger. He hasn’t eaten since lunch, and beating the shit out of people takes a toll on him. But the job is done and now he’s home. And for the first time, he realizes how grateful he is not to be alone.
Minutes later, she returns with a tray, carrying a steaming bowl of oyakodon and two warm towels beside it. She sets it next to him on the couch, kneeling on the floor in front of him, beside his knees. He gulps, suddenly aware at how compromising this position may seem. Though, he doesn’t mind it. He slowly reaches over to grab hold on the chopsticks, digging into the bowl of food to take a bite. It’s warm and soothing in his mouth, exactly what he needed.
“May I?” She peers up at him, pointing to his other hand, holding the damp towel.
He’s hesitant at first, aware that she’ll be touching him. This is definitely crossing a line, right? However, the thought of being pampered in this moment when he’s so fucking tired is too enticing to refuse. He stretches his arms out, offering his fist to her. She surrounds him in the soft fabric, rubbing gently between his knuckles, wiping away all the grime from tonight’s violence. His skin is on fire from her indirect touch and he can’t help but wonder what effect she could have on his body if she were actually touching him.
Skin in pristine condition, despite the temporary bruises, she switches to the other hand once he’s finished with his meal. He watches her in silence, holding back a moan, embarrassed at how much he’s enjoying this. She finishes him off with the second towel, the clean one, giving both hands a little massage. “Is that better?”
He nods, muttering a tired, “Thank you.”
She smiles, gaze flickering to the stains on his shirt. “I can wash this for you tomorrow. Just leave it in the laundry room.”
He nods again, unsure what else to say. She gets up, carrying the empty bowl and soiled towels back into the kitchen to clean up. It’s almost eleven now when Levi flips his wrist to check the time on his watch. Trains stop running by midnight, so he shouldn’t keep her here any longer. “You should head home now. It’s late,” he says, loud enough for her to hear. He stands up, slightly limping towards his bedroom to give her the payment. He slides an extra couple of bills to compensate for working overtime. Noticing how horrid he looks with blood all over him, he strips out of his shirt, thankful none of it seeped directly onto his skin. Without thinking, he rushes towards the front door, where she waits for him in her coat and shoes.
He hands her the money. “I’m giving you a small bonus today, just in case you’re wondering why there’s more in there.”
She glances at his chiseled abs before looking down at her feet. Heat rushes into his cheeks, finally aware that he’s shirtless in front of his housekeeper. This is definitely crossing a line.
“It’s okay, I don’t want the extra money,” she says.
“Take it. You’ve earned it,” he insists.
“I didn’t do it for that. I did it because I care about you. I want to - ” She gazes at him, swallowing hard, afraid to finish her thought.
There’s a flutter in his stomach as he steps closer to her, eager to hear it. “What?”
“I want to take care of you, Mr. Ackerman.”
It happens so fast that as soon as he realizes it, his lips are already on hers, kissing her passionately. His immediate reaction is to stop because he’s sure this isn’t what she intended. But when she places her hands on his chest, clinging to his bare skin to deepen the kiss, he can’t resist.
~~~
Clothes are discarded on the way to his bedroom. By the time you’re lying flat on his mattress, you’re both completely naked, him on top of you, caging you between his muscular arms. He kisses your figure, from your neck trailing down to your chest, his lips puckered at your nipple, sucking on it until it’s taut in his mouth. One hand travels along the curve of your hips, then the plush of your inner thigh, until he’s pressed to your throbbing clit. “Can I touch you here?” he asks, his voice low and trembling.
“Yes,” you breathe out, completely enraptured by him.
He flicks your bud with his middle finger, tapping on it until it’s puffy against him. He glides down to your wet slit, collecting your arousal to smear onto your clit, rubbing it faster. Pleasure courses through you as you whine into his mouth, kissing him sloppily. Soon, he slips inside you, pumping two of his fingers in and out of your pussy. You squirm for him, so close to your climax.
“You like my fingers inside this fucking cunt, huh?” he growls into your ear. He pulls out, stroking your clit with his wet digits. “How about here? You like them on your little clit too, right pretty girl?”
Your tongue lolls out of your mouth, eyes glazed over in a daze. “Yes, Mr. Ackerman. Fuck.”
“Levi,” he grunts, circling your bud. “I told you to call me Levi.” He slips back in, pummeling your pussy while his thumb taps on your swollen core.
You grab the bedsheets beneath you, clenching it between your fists, bucking your hips towards him, approaching your orgasm. “Coming,” you manage to whimper, unraveling. He slows his pace, riding it out with you until you relax in his hold, spent and blissed out.
There’s a wild look in his eyes, animalistic almost. He removes himself from you, bringing his wet fingers to your mouth, inching them past your lips. “Taste yourself for me.”
You obey, opening wide for him to swipe your own cum across your tongue. He sticks it further down your throat while you surround him, sucking your slick off. His erection is hard against you, begging for attention. You slide your hand between his thighs, palming at his stiff cock, twitching at your touch.
“Fuck,” he swears under his breath. You start stroking him, his cock hot and pulsating in your fist. He bucks into your grasp, moaning as you rub your thumb over his glossy tip, making him shudder. “You’re driving me fucking crazy, fuck. Get on top of me. Please. Need to taste you.”
You obey, readjusting yourself to straddle his face, lowering yourself carefully until your pressed to his open mouth. “Just enjoy it, sweetheart. You’ve earned it,” he says before lapping you up greedily. You ride his face, dragging your pussy lips across his flattened tongue, moaning when he puckers around you, suckling on your swelling bud. He’s sloppy and noisy, exactly how you like it. You find yourself unraveling quickly above him, convinced you can come just like this, without him entering you at all. He senses this, grabbing firmly to your ass cheeks, guiding you to rock against him faster. “That’s it, princess. Come for me,” he muffles against your skin, slurping at your leaking cunt. No longer able to resist, you moan loudly, reaching your climax, gushing all over his face. He smacks your ass, licking off every drop of your arousal before removing himself from you. “I need to be inside you. Need to fuck this pretty pussy right fucking now.”
All control lost, you whine, “Fuck me, Levi. Fuck me, please.”
He positions himself behind you, dragging your bottom towards him, rubbing his erection between your ass cheeks. “Think you’ve earned this cock? Think you deserve it?”
You nod frantically. “Yes. I’ve been so good.”
He chuckles, guiding himself inside you, stretching you out slowly as he inches his way deeper. “You’re right. You’ve been very good. You are good. So fucking good to me.” He pounds into you, fucking your sweet spot, chasing that high you’re both so desperate to reach. After a few more thrusts, your pussy squeezes around him, coming once more. He follows with his own orgasm, shooting his load inside you, filling you up with his cum.
He pulls out, rolling beside you, breathing heavily. You turn to your side, facing him, your senses gradually returning. He glances at you and breaks into a smile, the first you’ve ever seen from him. “Don’t look at me like that.”
You grin, scooting closer to nuzzle your nose with his. “Like what?”
His eyes gaze into yours, flickering down your lips. “Like you want to kiss me.”
You inch closer. “Why is that so bad?”
“Because I won’t be able to stop,” he whispers, closing the gap, kissing you.
~~~
On her last day, Levi leaves her final payment on the top of his dresser. It’s next to a thicker envelope that she’s collected the entirety of her father’s debt in, ready to hand over to Kenny first thing in the morning. She could have paid it off sooner, a week sooner, to be exact. But she decides to finish the remainder of the month employed as Levi’s housekeeper. She doesn’t explain why, and he doesn’t ask.
They snuggle together in his bed, ready to sleep after fucking each other stupid just minutes earlier. This is another added part of their routine. Sometimes, she leaves to check in on her mother back home. Other times, she stays the night, which Levi prefers, though he won’t admit it out loud. It’s the best sleep he’s gotten in years.
He can tell she’s on the verge of sleep by the way her eyes flutter closed and how her head falls into his chest, relaxed. His mind is racing with thoughts, so he’s wide awake, wondering what tomorrow will hold. Will she say goodbye to him forever? Is this really over? What will he do when she’s gone?
He realizes his true feelings for her almost immediately after they begin sleeping together. He’s never relinquished control to anyone else before. But for him, giving it to her was easy. Maybe because he knew he could trust her. Though, now with her employment coming to an end, he’s not so sure what to think.
“Levi?” Her soft voice surprises him.
“Hey,” he whispers. “Go back to sleep.”
She tips her chin up, peering at him. “Not yet. I want to say something to you.”
He stares at her, confused and anxious, listening. “I care about you, Levi. I don’t want this to stop just because whatever arrangement we had before is over.”
He swallows hard, trying to maintain a neutral expression as his heart races with joy. “So, what then? Do you want to keep being my housekeeper? I already feel weird paying you because of what we do.”
She giggles, shaking her head. “I don’t want to be your housekeeper. I want to be your girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Yes, Levi. Your girlfriend,” she reiterates, smiling.
He lets out a small laugh. “That sounds so normal.”
She cups his face, squeezing his cheeks. “Well, maybe Mr. Ackerman deserves a little something normal for once.”
He chuckles, nuzzling into her touch. “So, how is this going to work, then? You being my girlfriend.”
“Well, I’ll get my old job back. And in the meantime, I can move in here so I can still do all the cooking and cleaning.”
“No,” he interjects. “Together. We’ll cook and clean together. Like a normal couple.”
She beams at him. “Alright. Together it is, then.”
He allows himself to smile completely now, pressing his forehead to hers. “Can it really be this simple?”
“I think it can,” she replies. “It’s worth a shot, right?”
For most of his life, Levi has never had it easy. Thirty years later, he finally has a chance at something normal, something good. Does he deserve it? With her by his side, holding his hand so lovingly in hers, he actually believes it. “Yeah. You’re absolutely right.”
#levi ackerman#levi x reader#levi aot#levi x you#levi smut#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman smut#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman fluff#levi ackerman x female reader#aot smut#attack on titan smut#aot x reader#aot fluff#attack on titan x reader#y2k karaoke party#milestone event
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The Redfields are sleeping over [Resident Evil Contemporary AU]
Claire Redfield x Chris Redfield x GN reader HEADCANONS
A/N: there are NO sexual or romantic themes. Enjoy the good time and have fun reading this! The link to the spotify playlist is on the title.
TW: reader and Chris are the same age (19) and both are nic addicts. Slight mentions of alcohol and cigarettes usage, along with swearing from time to time. If ur not comfortable, feel free to skip the paras that mention this.
Btw y'all live in Raccoon City and the outbreak had never happened.
𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊
⛧ your parents are on a business trip this weekend and allowed Chris and Claire to sleepover as much as they want
⛧ you guys had planned this moment for weeks already
⛧ ''No sleeping bags allowed and NOBODY sleeps on the floor. My bed is big enough for all of us!''
⛧ even if Claire is six years younger than you, her presence doesn't bother you at all. she's actually like a little sister to you and spending the weekend together has never sounded this good!
⛧ using the money you all put up together, Chris went out the night before and bought the snacks. he also managed to sneak in a few beer cans, a whole 34oz bottle of vodka and some other stuff that if Claire finds out about, she'll tell her parents and her big brother is going to be in some big big shit
⛧ the night starts straight wild. The neighbours come by from time to time, but after the third visit you decided to just ingore the loud pounds on the door.
⛧ Chris comes closers to you and whispers ''I had to suck some good dick to get these without and ID.'', then passes you a pack of Dunhill Blues. His words made you laugh your lungs out.
⛧ Just Dance, Mortal Kombat and Karaoke made your whole night
⛧ your and Chris' special song is Telephone by Lady Gaga. No one else is allowed to sing it. He sings Beyoncé's part and you Gaga's
⛧ the music y'all chose is such a vibe i swear
⛧ Chris made the playlist and you sent the songs
⛧ he's a sucker for oldies, especially Modern Talking and y2k europop
⛧ Jill comes over after you told her to and she spent the friday night with you all
⛧ while smoking on the balcony, trying do hide from Claire, she finds you and Chris outside and threatens her big bro she'll tell mom if he won't let her do his makeup
⛧ you locked the doors, Jill cuffs his hand and feet with some scarfs and Claire makes the magic happen
⛧ he's so slay istg😻 claire took the photo and sent it to their family group chat
⛧ Claire gets bored first and goes to sleep around 3AM the second night
⛧ you and Chris insert the big ass speakers from the living room into the bedroom and blast machinegun sounds to wake her up. She stars crying on the spot
⛧ y'all get hungry and try cooking some fancy meal, but you ended up almost burning the kitchen
⛧ around 5AM the deep thoughts start to kick in, so you go out and things get serious. No laughs, no jokes, just sentimental moments that bond your friendship even more
⛧ ''So? Did you guys had fun this weekend?'' your parents ask.
''Eh, it was alright."
⛧ whatever happened those nights it's in the past and it should never be brought up, especially near your parents.
__________________________________________________________
ㅤIdk about you, but I had so much fun writing this. I always imagine how nice life would be if I had a sleepover from time to time with the Redfields. Also, they've been through so much pain that i hope that in a paralel universe they get to party and relax all of the time.
ㅤI hope you enjoyed it and please don't hesitate to request me anything you want. I love recieving ideas.
xoxo
#first post#headcanon#resident evil headcanons#imagine#resident evil#jill valentine#chris redfield#claire redfield#resident evil series#contemporary au#sleepover#chris redfeild x reader#claire redfield x reader#jill valentine x reader#gender neutral reader
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Week at The Crown April 23rd - 28th
Tuesday 4/23:
NYCL Roadhouse Tour w/ Breezy Supreme / Lil Cxcaine / NCYL Kai / Helly / Cratos / Yonder / NXS888 / Fortune Family / Survive / 555 | A hip hop / trap / HEAVY showcase| 8pm | $10 adv ~ $12 atd
+
Crown Karaoke Party! FREE @ 9PM
~
Wednesday 4/24:
Snag. / nesting / no thanks to you / expiration date | 7 PM | $13 adv ~ $15 atd
+
Average joey / the weeping marys / mara yaffee | 7PM | $10-$20 SUGGESTED DONATION (free/ no one turned away for lack of funds)
~
Thursday 4/25:
Adaline / Gay Baseball / Bloody Crying Twinks | 7pm | $10 adv ~ $12 atd
+
Gustavo Fring / Nervous Surface / Muhnday / Momophobia | 7 PM | $8 ADV ~ $10 atd
~
Friday 4/26:
The HIRS Collective / Rid of Me / Euclid C Finder / d.ckgirl | 7pm | $ $17 adv ~ $20 atd
+
Ducky’s Dungeon w/ DJ Ducky Dynamo & DJ Ayymello | A bmore club / hip hop / y2k / more / dance party | 9:30pm | $10
PLUS an EARLY SHOW!
White People Won't Save You : A Live Podcast Experience w/ Comedians Cameron Mason & Jordan Clark | 6:30pm | $10
~
Saturday 4/27:
VERSION : a queer dance party! w/ DJ Trillnatured / Kotic Couture / Begone | 10 pm | $10
+
Hen House! A Drag & Comedy & Burlesque Showcase! feat. Jermaine Callendo / Mister Sister / Griefcat / Whiskey Ginger / Jenny Cavallero / The Original Gata! PLUS Your Host Kenny Rooster! 8PM | $20 [ remember to bring $CASH FOR TIPS$]
~
Sunday 4/28:
Dreamwell / Trash Diva / Circuit Circuit / A Paramount A Love Supreme | 6PM | $12 / $15 | 21+
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Things to Do in Durham this Weekend (Mar 16-19) - St. Patrick’s Day Edition
Check out our full Durham events calendar.
If you'd like to add an event to our calendar, submit an event here. Please check with the event owners to see if events change due to weather. Have a great weekend!
March Featured Event
The Hunt for the Golden Bulls with Bull City Burger and Brewery
The 13th annual “Hunt for the Golden Bulls”: a scavenger hunt inspired by the golden tickets from the film Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory. Throughout the month, clues and puzzles will be revealed on social media and at bullcityburgerandbrewery.com. The clues, once deciphered, lead participants to public spaces around Durham where a golden bull has been carefully hidden.
Golden Bulls #1 and #2 have been found.
St. Patrick’s Day Events (Mar 17)
Annual St. Patrick's Day Celebration at 94th St Pub
Join in for the pub's annual St. Patrick's day celebration. Music, green beer, corned beef and cabbage, shepherd's pie, corned beef reubens, key lime pie, and more. St. Patrick's karaoke starts at 10:00 p.m.
Pub opens at 11 a.m.
Free admission
St. Patrick's Day Celebration at James Joyce and The Federal
Live Irish music and food specials. Music starts at 4:00 p.m.
11:30 a.m.
Free admission
St. Patrick's Day Party at Bull City Ciderworks Durham
Green cider, specialty cocktails, and live music with The Downpour Band.
12:00 p.m.
Free admission
St. Patrick's Day Party at The Glass Jug Beer Lab - Downtown Durham
Join The Glass Jug for St. Patrick's Day and try some green beer! Irish Dry Stout and Shortest Road Irish Red Ale are on tap. The Dry Stout will be Nitro.
12:00 p.m.
Free admission
Multi-Day Events
American Ballet Theatre: Giselle at DPAC
This engrossing tale of unrequited love, revenge, and forgiveness has been an “enduring classic” (The New York Times) for nearly 200 years because of the exquisite and exacting dancing it requires of its entire ensemble. In the hands of ABT, one of the world’s leading ballet companies, Giselle is transcendent – an unmissable evening of stunning artistry.
Thu, March 16, 2023 at 7:30 p.m.
Fri, March 17, 2023 at 8:00 p.m.
Sat, March 18, 2023 at 2:00 p.m. and 8:00 p.m.
Sun, March 19, 2023 at 1:00 p.m.
$10+
"On Strivers Row” at NCCU University Theatre
The play, written in the 1940s for Harlem audiences, satirizes the social ambitions and pretensions of the affluent inhabitants of the elegant townhouses of Harlem's prestigious Strivers Row. Taking place over the course of one day, as family matriarch Dolly Van Striven throws an elaborate debutante dinner for her daughter Cobina.
Thu-Sat at 8:00 p.m.
Sun 3:00 p.m.
$20, $15 for students and seniors
Events at The Pinhook
Thu, Mar 16 at 8:00 p.m. - Cosmic Collective, Josh2800, Simulator Jones
Fri, Mar 17 at 8:00 p.m. - Elijah Rosario with Kevin Wavinson, Micah Evans & Tesh
Sat, Mar 18 at 8:00 p.m. - Dissimilar South and Touch Tank
Sat, Mar 18 at 10:30 p.m. - Party Y2K with Gemynii and Ayo VIP
Sun, Mar 19 at 8:00 p.m. - King Tuff with special guest: Tchotchke
Live Music at Blue Note Grill
Thur, Mar 16 at 7:00 p.m. - Dr. Fish "Catch Fish Live"
Fri, Mar 17 at 6:00 p.m. - The Duke Street Dogs
Fri, Mar 17 at 9:15 p.m. - Joe Bell & the Stinging Blades: St. Patrick's Day Rock the Shams Party
Sat, Mar 18 at 7:30 p.m. - Harvey Dalton Arnold Band
Events at Moon Dog Meadery
Fri, Mar 17 at 8:00 p.m. - A Few Blocks Away: A Harrison Tweed Comedy Taping
Sat, Mar 18 at 8:00 p.m. - No Bull Comedy
Sun, Mar 19 at 7:00 p.m. - Moon Dog Open Mic
Live Music at Sharp 9 Gallery
Fri, Mar 17 at 8:00 p.m. - Ernest Turner/Stephen Riley Duo
Sat, Mar 18 at 8:00 p.m. - Danielle Wertz Quintet
$27.55
Events at Arcana
Fri, Mar 17 - Viv and Riley and Tarot with Kathleen
Sat, Mar 18 - Tarot with Heiltje
Sun, Mar 19 - Slow Teeth w/Robert Chamberlain and Tarot with Joy
Events at Rubies on Five Points
Fri, Mar 17 at 10:00 p.m. - The Floor with special guest Johan Yardan
Sat, Mar 18 at 10:00 p.m. - Fortune Factory: Electric Jungle
Events at The Fruit
Sat, Mar 18 at 7:00 p.m. - Gross Reality, Franky and the Slight Incline, and Orphan Riot
Sat, Mar 18 at 10:00 p.m. - Disfruta La Vida Presents Noche De Perreo
Improv Comedy at Mettlesome
Fri, Mar 17 at 8:00 p.m. | Wit: An Improv Comedy Game Show
Fri, Mar 18 9:00 p.m. | Hush Hush - Improv inspired by anonymous secrets from the audience.
Sat, Mar 18 at 7:00 p.m. | Improv 101 Grad Show
Sat, Mar 18 at 8:00 p.m. | The Racket - See indie improv teams from around the Triangle show off their stuff.
Sat, Mar 18 at 9:00 p.m. | House Party - A mix of short-form (similar to Who's Line is it Anyway?) and long-form inspired by an audience interview.
Sat, Mar 18 at 10:00 p.m. | Improv Jam - Everybody who attends will get a chance to perform. Put your name in the spinner and get randomly assigned a team to a group. Featuring players of all experience levels.
All shows $8
Thursday, Mar 16
Live Music: XOXOK at Boxyard RTP
XOXOK crafts atmospheric soul music that is conceived on the fretboard, cultivated at the microphone, and cradled in headphones.
5:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m.
Free admission
Vinyl Night with DJ Deckades at Gizmo Brew Works
Enjoy fresh vibes on the patio with DJ Deckades. Bring your own vinyl to share or just listen to what the DJ is spinning.
6:00 p.m. - 9:00 p.m.
Free admission
Boulders & Brews Meetup at Triangle Rock Club - Durham
Show up and climb at TRC Durham, then head over to Hi-Wire for some brews. Don't worry if it's your first time or haven't bouldered before; everyone's welcome.
Your first visit to the gym with the Meetup includes free admission and gear rental, and subsequent visits with the meetup are $15 and include harness rental (outside of meetups, day pass rates of $19 apply and do not include rentals).
6:30 p.m. - 8:30 p.m.
Live Music in the Taproom at The Glass Jug Beer Lab - Downtown Durham
Glass Jug offers local live music EVERY Thursday in their Downtown Durham taproom.
7:00 p.m. - 10:00 p.m.
Free admission
Trivia Night w/Big Slow Tom at Clouds Brewing Brightleaf Square
Join Clouds Durham for Big Slow Tom's Trivia Night, every Thursday. Win some prizes, drink some beer, and show your smarts.
Enjoy $4 select draft and $5 rotating bartender's choice all night.
7:30 p.m.
Free admission
Friday, Mar 17
Tasting at Ten at Counter Culture Coffee
Every Friday morning at 10 am, Counter Culture Coffee opens their Training Centers to coffee lovers who want to learn more about Counter Culture Coffee’s high-quality, sustainably sourced menu.
10:00 a.m.
Free, but donations accepted
Third Friday in Downtown Durham
3rd Friday at Golden Belt! from 5:00 p.m. - 9:00 p.m.
DAG Swing into Spring Reception from 6:00 p.m. - 8:00 p.m.
‘Connections’ An exhibit by Durham artist Barbara Lee Smith from 6:00 p.m. - 9:00 p.m.
Third Friday @ Super G! from 6:00 p.m. - 9:00 p.m.
Sabia Wade in Conversation with Durham-based Doula Whitney Williams at Rofhiwa Book Café
Sabia Wade, renowned radical doula, educator and author of Birthing Liberation: How Reproductive Justice Can Free Us All, talks to Whitney Williams, Durham based doula and educator.
Seating for up to 40 in-person guests, with priority access given to those who purchase the book.
7:00 p.m.
Open Mic Stand-Up Comedy at Durty Bull Brewing Company
This weekly event takes place indoors in the Barrel Room, with seating available for nearly 100 people. There's no better way to unwind after a long week than a night of laughter with Ashley & Ebony. Interested in performing? Please contact Ashley and Ebony.
8:00 p.m. - 11:00 p.m.
21+
Free admission
Bachata Fixation – 3rd Friday Bachata Night – Class & Dance Party! at Roots Bistro & Bar
Join in with the dancing crowd for a full night of bachata, salsa, merengue, kiz, and more! On third Fridays, this is where the fun, the sexy, and the party is for all the bachata lovers! 21+
10:00 p.m.
$10
Pub Karaoke at West 94th St Pub
Hosted by All King Entertainment.
10:00 p.m. - 1:00 a.m.
Free admission
Saturday, Mar 18
parkrun Durham at Southern Boundaries Park
A free, fun, and friendly weekly 5k community event. Walk, jog, run, volunteer, or spectate. It's up to you!
8:00 a.m.
Free admission
Crafternoons at Gizmo Brew Works
Free pint with purchase of craft box. Choose from a variety of craft packages available for all ages.
12:00 p.m. - 10:00 p.m.
TreKing the Band at Beyú Caffè
Created by two individuals who are passionate about music and art, Ms. Tre'Jae and Rashad King.
Attendance requires a $20 minimum food and/or beverage minimum purchase per ticket.
Shows at 6:00 p.m. and 8:00 p.m.
$12 standing | $25 seated
The Standard: Still Rise, Shelley Markham, David Scott Binanay at Succotash
Sinatra to folkpop instrumental
7:00 p.m. - 9:00 p.m.
No cover
Sunday, Mar 19
Self-Guided Canoe, Kayak, and Standup Paddleboard Trips on Lower Eno River
The Lower Eno River joins the Flat River to form the Neuse River (and the headwaters of Falls Lake) in Northern Durham County. Here you can meander through flooded creeks and slip over mudflats. For those that are quiet it is possible to startle a Great Blue Heron or Osprey.
9:00 a.m. - 6:00 p.m.
$30-40
Al Strong Presents Jazz Brunch Sundays at Alley Twenty Six
Al Strong, the Grammy-nominated jazz trumpeter, composer and recording artist, will bring a rotating lineup of musicians to perform during Sunday brunch at Durham's Alley Twenty Six.
Brunch is served from 10:30 a.m. - 2:00 p.m.
Music will be from 12:00 p.m. - 2:00 p.m.
Public Tour at Duke University Chapel
Learn about the history, architecture, and life of Duke Chapel in this tour. The tour begins at 12:15 p.m., or immediately following the conclusion of the Sunday morning service, and lasts approximately 45 minutes. No reservation is required but if you plan to bring a large group please contact [email protected]. Meet the docent on the front steps of the Chapel.
12:15 p.m.
Free admission
Food Truck Rodeo at Durham Central Park
More than 35+ food trucks of all different varieties.
2:00 p.m. - 4:00 p.m.
Free admission
Trivia at Navigator Beverage Co.
Hosted by the Triangle’s Trivia team, Hammered Trivia, gather your team and post up to compete for prizes and enjoy an afternoon of great drinks, great friends, and great games.
2:00 p.m. - 4:00 p.m.
Free admission
Running Art Exhibits
Art Exhibition: 'Marc Chagall and the Bible' at Duke Chapel
In partnership with Duke Initiatives in Theology and the Arts (DITA), the Chapel is presenting an exhibition of prints of works by the distinguished, modernist artist Marc Chagall. Curated by the art collector Sandra Bowden, the exhibition, Marc Chagall and the Bible, features etchings and lithographs with biblical themes.
The Chapel is open daily from 10:00 a.m. - 8:00 p.m. but is sometimes closed to the public for private ceremonies
Runs through March 30
No tickets or reservations required.
The Textile Art of Debbie Secan in the Great Hall of the Golden Belt Campus
Debbie Secan fell in love with weaving as a teenager and has worked with woven structures ever since, in the textile industry and as a fine artist. The materials in her work are repurposed for environmental reasons and to exploit the breadth of resources we discard.
Runs through Mar 31
Mon-Sat from 10:00 a.m. - 6:00 p.m. | Sun from 10:00 a.m. - 5:00 p.m.
Free admission
The Art of Nicholas Edward at the Building 2 Gallery at Golden Belt Campus
Derrick Nicholas is the artist behind Nicholas Edward. Originally from Charlotte, North Carolina, he moved to Raleigh in 1995 and has been a Triangle resident ever since. A North Carolina A&T University class of 2008 graduate with a Bachelor’s Degree in Graphic Design, art has been Nicholas’ passion since the age of 6. He loves to express and create through various mediums including pencil, digital, and paint, and finds that each provides a unique and therapeutic satisfaction.
Runs through Mar 31
Mon-Sat from 10:00 a.m. - 6:00 p.m. | Sun from 10:00 a.m. - 5:00 p.m.
Free admission
Mi Casa, Your Casa Experience at The Streets at Southpoint
Designed to look and feel like an inviting home, Mi Casa, Your Casa 2.0 encourages visitors to come together and feel a sense of warmth and community as they step in, swing, and relax in one of the glowing red houses.
Runs through Apr 2
The Mind’s Eye: Gallery Members Exhibition at 5 Points Gallery
5 Points Gallery celebrates cleverness in the Year of the Rabbit with their new exhibit called “The Mind’s Eye”.
Runs through Apr 15
Free admission
Beyond the Surface: Collage, Mixed Media and Textile Works from the Collection at the Nasher
This exhibition includes approximately 40 works, primarily from the Nasher Museum’s collection. With a focus on collage, mixed media and textile works, Beyond the Surface explores how artists bring together disparate materials and ideas to create artworks that engage with all audiences.
Tue-Fri from 10:00 a.m. - 5:00 p.m. | Sun from 12:00 p.m. - 5:00 p.m.
Runs through May 14
Free admission
Patrimonio | Heritage at John Hope Franklin Center Gallery
A series of drawing interventions on “Llanchama” (Amazonian tree bark) by Peruvian/American artist Renzo Ortega.
Mon-Fri from 8:00 a.m. - 6:00 p.m.
Runs through May 18
Free admission
Exhibits at 21c Museum Hotel
Whitney Stanley: We Just Be in the Vault Gallery
This We Believe in the Main Gallery
Runs through May 31
Open 24 hours
Free admission
Spirit in the Land at the Nasher
Spirit in the Land is a contemporary art exhibition that examines today’s urgent ecological concerns from a cultural perspective, demonstrating how intricately our identities and natural environments are intertwined. Through their artwork, 30 artists show us how rooted in the earth our most cherished cultural traditions are, how our relationship to land and water shapes us as individuals and communities
Tue-Fri from 10:00 a.m. - 5:00 p.m. | Sun from 12:00 p.m. - 5:00 p.m.
Runs through Jul 9
Free admission
Art of Peru at the Nasher
This gallery features ceramics, textiles, metalwork and carvings produced by ancient cultures across what is known as present-day Peru.
Tue-Fri from 10:00 a.m. - 5:00 p.m. | Sun from 12:00 p.m. - 5:00 p.m.
Runs through Dec 2
Free admission
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Everything to Know About the S Club 7 Reunion (From Someone Who Wasn't Born Yet When They Debuted)
Long before BTS and One Direction, one of the biggest pop bands in the world was a 7-piece group from the UK whose sole purpose was to get the party started. S Club 7 formed in 1998 and went on to achieve huge success, in part due to a hit TV show, quintessential Y2K outfits, and catchy pop anthems, which have gone on to become karaoke staples to this day.
Formed by Simon Fuller, the man behind…
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30 Day Song Challenge
Day 17: “A song you’d sing a duet with someone on karaoke”
The truth is that the top three most popular Prince songs of all time in karaoke circles are “Purple Rain”, “When Doves Cry” and “Kiss” - all of which we’ve previously covered in this 30 Day Song Challenge (Prince Edition). Sooo, the obvious next question was: “What popular Prince song would make for a great drunken Karoake rager with a friend - zero rehearsal required and very little forethought necessary?”
And the answer is obvious. Prince’s ultimate party song: “1999”! 🙌🏾🎉
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I mean “Raspberry Beret” would be fun to do for karaoke too... I even considered “Take Me With You” or “Sexy MF”. But you really can’t deny that if my theoretical karoake partner and I did it just right (and if the rest of the patrons were just drunk enough), then “1999” could probably bring the house down on a rockin’ karaoke night lol. 😎
For the few of you that may (somehow) not know, "1999" is a the title track from Prince’s 1982 album of the same name.
Fun fact: Even though it turned to be one of Prince’s most iconic songs in the end, it wasn’t considered a big hit when originally released! 😱
Truth is, the single's first release didn't even make the Top 40 (peaking at Number 44 on the Billboard Hot 100 in December 1982), but Prince put it out again as a Double A-Side single (alongside the 12-inch version of "Little Red Corvette"), and it was finally a smash.
[For those of you that are either too young to understand what A-Sides and B-Sides were, let alone the significance of a Double A-Side single... feel free to check out Fandom’s comprehensive breakdown of that classic Vinyl Record Era practice. 😉 🎧]
The re-released single for “1999” reached to Number 12 in the US in July 1983, and hitting Number 25 in the UK in January 1983. It eventually shot all the way to Number 2 in the UK when re-released for a third time in January 1985.
But even following that, the song’s legendary place in Pop history only grew as the year 2000 drew closer.
By the year 1999 itself, fears and whispers about the infamous “Y2K” computer “bug” meant that the approaching New Year celebration was destined to be beyond historic, and Prince’s iconic song “1999” captured both the excitement for the new millenium and the worries about the possible “Y2K bug” at the time perfectly, making it one of the most played songs for that year and easily the top requested party anthem for New Year’s Eve parties worldwide that year.
Ever the consummate businessman and marketing genius, Prince capitalised on all the “Y2K” hysteria and the renewed interest in him and 1999 by throwing the ultimate New Year’s Eve bash in timeless Prince style. 🎉🥳
He organised and headlined his own legendary pay-per-view special “Rave Un2 The Year 2000”, which was aired live from his infamous Paisley Park mansion, on New Year’s Eve in 1999. The pièce de résistance of course, was this raucus performance of “1999” at the stroke of midnight. 👇🏾
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Talk about ushering in the New Millenium in fine style! 👍🏾👍🏾
That’s all for now but here’s two more precious gems before I end this post... 💎💎💎
Firstly, going back to the karoake theme that started this post, remember when I told you that “Purple Rain” was among the most popular Prince songs for karaoke?
Well, to prove it, here’s movie star Nicolas Cage doing possibly the angriest karoake version of “Purple Rain” ever attempted - at a karaoke bar in L.A.'s KoreaTown lol. 👇🏾
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Apparently, Cage got drunk in Vegas last year (2019) and wound up marrying his (equally drunk at time) gf Erica Koike... only to then file for an anullment a mere 4 days later. 🙈
Andddd one “Purple Rain” catharsis just wasn’t enough for Cage, so he went back to that same spot in KoreaTown and rocked out to the same song karaoke style a second time that same week! 😱🤦🏾♂️
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I hope you find peace, Nicolas! (TMZ documented this bizarre celebrity story extensively, if you’re interested to know more lol)
And last (but by no means least), here’s one of the last videos I ever saw of Prince performing the hell out of his classic anthem, “1999”.
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“Two-thousand-zero-zero party over,
Oops! Out of time 🎸
So tonight I'm gonna party like it's 1999”
🥳🎉🕺🏾
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Ep # 063 Dan Verville!
It's Episode 63 and we're joined by a very special guest, Winnipeg stand up sensation Dan Verville. We kick things off with a little Bulk Barn banter, we learn Dan 'The Verve Pipe' Verville's fortune, and Tim Learns about Walt Disney's baller business tactics and where Satchmo got his nickname.
Next, we take a trip to Verville World where Dan is visited by a lil Satchmo in the year 1999. When Satchmo lays a golden egg, it's a race to beat Y2K, get real lit at Mardi Gras, and learn a little bit about love 'Verve Pipe' style.
In our last segment, we dig into Two Truths & A Lie where Dan really stumps the HUNKS by regaling us with his 'real life' adventures as a professional bowler, being best friends with George Stroumboulopoulos, and lighting up some karaoke comedy!
You can't miss this ravine jumping, 5 pin pumping, roller coaster 'cast that parties like its 1999!
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If You Don't Know 'OKgrl' You're Doing #Aesthetic Wrong
Long before Tumblr, Instagram, and Snapchat, and the popularity of terms like 'augmented reality,' Generation Y and older millennials had interactive platforms like Barbie, Gaia Online, and Angelfire. You would pick avatars resembling you—based on the most basic features—dress them, and engage with mystery users behind the screen. It was the original online happy place, and for many, marked the beginnings of ventures into the digital unknown. Now, the future of content creation comes full-circle with the digital fashion platform and magazine OKgrl.
Launched earlier this year, former POP magazine fashion editor Louby Mcloughlin teamed up with former Kenzo digital directors David Broner and Kim Boutin (now DVTK). The second edition of OKgrl features an ongoing collaboration with various creatives and forefront contemporary pop icons such as singer/songwriter Shamir; UK singer, artist, and photographer Hannah Diamond; artist and art director James Orlando; fashion designer Jeremy Scott; animators Reed + Rader; singer Liz Y2K; and more. OKgrl is a visually enticing platform that acts as interactive publication, new music source, VR shopping experience, and a creative outlet via mini-games that allow users to create their own content.
OKgrl gives you the option of seven characters and their individual narratives (two of which are still locked). Start a dance party with Shamir as he bounces around a Dance Dance Revolution-like inspired gridded dance floor, where every click produces a separate beat and verse. Clicking on every space possible and watching Shamir appear in various outfits, with a pop tune that you assembled, is strangely satisfying. The Jeremy Scott-styled "Hair Hotel" is an animated presentation of his AW16 collection featuring models donning surreal gargantuan hairstyles in bizarre motel rooms, shooting little green aliens, being photographed by giant cameras, and hanging out with Furby-like creatures.
Shamir, 2017, Courtesy of OKgrl, London
In the James Orlando-designed and styled levels, you can resize and place the neon pink haired UK pop singer Milly Toomey, a.k.a., Girli in any environment you like—either game-generated or from your own photo. Using products in the sticker app developed by Hello Velocity, you can art direct a scene with objects such as Snapchat glasses, WowWee Chip Robot Toy Dogs, Wendell Castle Molar Couches, and more. Click on Cultura and get immersed in a stylish karaoke zone of the singer's first catchy single, "No Tengo Más." Instagram "It girl" Princess Gollum is your guide to Nicola Formichetti's fashion and lifestyle brand Nicopanda in a VR shopping level. By viewing on your laptop or through a Google Cardboard on your phone, you find yourself inside a 360-degree pop-up shop where everything is available to purchase from the comforts of wherever you are.
Cultura , 2017, Courtesy of OKgrl, New York
The Nicopanda level is an extension of James Orlando's Hyper.Zone project, a multi-level interactive platform in the format of a video game, where you can navigate various environments and purchase everything from designer clothes to contemporary art. Collaborating with a range of artists such as Sigrid Lauren, Brady Gunnell, Jeanette Hayes, Brooke Wise, Timo Seber, and more, the project is a way to amalgamate art, music, architecture, design, entertainment, and commerce, into one source where users from anywhere in the world can connect and share information. Similarly, OKgrl is a crossroads of art, fashion, design, content production, and above all, consumerism, all wrapped up in a culturally diverse, nostalgia-inducing, dreamy pop package.
As James Orlando tells Creators, "OKgrl is definitely for a younger millennial audience who is interested in more dynamic ways of experiencing content and shopping. We are interested in experimenting with consumer engagement and making content more fun to experience as trends imply reading less and a desire to interact more. Unfortunately journalistic integrity is becoming a thing of the past and memes are practically a source of news for today's youth culture. Interaction habits from Instagram and other social outlets have forced us to consume media at a much faster rate. I want to create digital experiences that invite the user to stop scrolling, actively engage and hopefully create their own content to take away and share."
Nicopanda , 2017, Courtesy of OKgrl, New York
Art no longer needs to be viewed or consumed in gallery spaces; it can now be navigated through virtually as seen in New Museum's Artist's VR exhibition app and the virtual gallery walls of Hyper.Zone. The question is, when does the line blur between fine art and commercial content? Will the screen eventually replace the viewership and appreciation of art with a strictly marketable purpose or will it become a mediator, allowing more access and freedom to creative sources?
James Orlando explains, "I wouldn't say that OKgrl is an art project, it's an experience for the music and the fans, pioneering its way as a digital publication of the future. Brands of course commission artists to make work and I depend on their support, but as long as I'm making experiences I believe in, that's art enough for me. Hyper.Zone is much more of a fine-art experience intentionally blurring lines between gaming experience and commercial showroom with its own world and narrative."
OKgrl plans to have an online launch party in 2017, so stay tuned and navigate through OKgrl's characters on their website here.
Related:
New Museum Launches Free Downloadable VR App
Corporate Spaces Become Mysterious Video Game Places in 'Islands'
'Catacombs' is a Ghastly 360° Tour of Abandoned American Shopping Malls
from creators http://ift.tt/2lULh9i
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imma hit you with a twofer: extra smooth by aaliyah with geto...and gimme more by brittany spears with kishibe
Extra Smooth
Pairing: Suguru Geto x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~3.0k
cw: next-door neighbor Geto who is kind of an asshole, shy reader, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), cunnilingus, sex without a condom, sex toy use
Summary: Your next-door neighbor is loud, inconsiderate, and unfortunately, very hot. No matter how many times you bang on his door with another new noise complaint, he’ll continue to repeat his offenses nearly every weekend. You’re too timid to submit a formal complaint to the landlord, so you shrug it off, hoping that one day, he’ll suddenly become nice. That day comes sooner than you think, when he unexpectedly makes a visit to your apartment, discovering the real reason you need your peace and quiet.
Author’s Note: @demonwoman Mephisto! I LOVE this song and Aaliyah, honestly this was so perfect for Geto. Thank you for requesting a two-fer for the y2k karaoke party! I’ll post the Kishibe one soon. Had a lot of fun writing this, and I hope you have just as much fun reading it! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciating, thank you for reading! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune.
part 1 of to all the boys who live next door anthology series
Even with your headphones in, music on high, you can still hear the loud bass reverberating through the shared wall of your apartment. You remove one of the buds in your ear to press it to the plaster, listening carefully to your neighbor having another party next door. Rolling your eyes, you save the document on your screen before shutting your laptop closed, quickly putting on a pair of mismatched sweatpants and sweater. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to go over to Suguru Geto’s apartment to ask him to lower the volume. You did it last weekend, and the one before that, even twice last month. It isn’t fun for you to be that person, but the intense bass that rattles your bedroom walls really is distracting. You thought that after the first two times you complained, he would be more conscious of it. Nope, still noisy and obnoxious as ever. The problem is you’re too chicken shit to make a formal complaint to your landlord. Of course he isn’t taking it seriously, not from his timid, home-body neighbor next door. Why should he when it’s only you that it’s bothering?
You slide into your fuzzy slippers and make your way out into the hallway, closing the door shut behind you. A few steps and you’re in front of Geto’s, knocking three times. You can hear people chatting and laughing from inside, not responding. You wait another couple of seconds before forcefully pounding on the door with your fist, finally getting a reaction. The chatter hushes and soon, he reveals himself, answering the door with a tight grin on his face, clearly annoyed. “What can I do for you, neighbor?” he grits through his teeth, still maintaining a forced smile.
You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly insecure in his presence. There’s no denying it; he’s an attractive man, tall and lean beneath tight-fitting clothes. Long, black hair drapes down his back, a portion of it wrapped in a loose bun, loose strands falling before his handsome face. And sure, maybe sometimes he crosses your mind while you’re in your bedroom, playing with the toys you have currently hidden away in your nightstand. But that’s as far as it goes: fantasy. In reality, your next-door neighbor is an asshole.
“Could you please lower the volume of your music? It’s really loud.” You decide not to bring up the other incidents from the past, not wanting to aggravate the situation any further.
He grins at you, disingenuous, definitely irritated, but trying not to show it. “Sure. I can do that. Anything else?”
You shake your head, muttering a quiet, “Thanks.” You glance at the people inside, who stare at you, snickering to each other.
“Nice slippers, by the way,” he taunts, before slamming the door shut. There’s an uproar of laughter from inside, and you retreat back into your home, irked by his attitude. It’s not that hard to be considerate of others, right? So why is he making this so much more difficult than it needs to, making you feel like the asshole? You shake it off, trying not to let it bother you. He actually does lower the volume, so you’re satisfied, despite the unnecessary insults you hear from the other side. God she’s so lame. She’s home alone on a Friday night, what do you expect?
With another roll of your eyes, you open your laptop, resuming where you left off. Your fingers type away at the keys fluidly, your concentration regained, hating yourself a little bit for what you’re about to type, especially after what just happened:
Yeah, you want this cock, don’t you?
Been hungry for it this entire time, huh?
[clothing rustling]
Well, go ahead. Come get it. Use me like you’ve always wanted to.
[spits into hand, starts stroking his cock]
I’ll be a good neighbor to you from now on. The very best.
~~~
You finish the script past midnight, falling asleep before you get a chance to proofread and edit it. There’s no title yet, though you have a vague idea of what you want it to be. Saturdays, you’re usually out with friends throughout the day, so you decide to finish the rest of it once you’re back home from dinner tonight. Before you leave, you type a quick title at the top of the page: [M4F] Your Hot Asshole Neighbor Finally Decides to Be Nice to You.
This isn’t the first script you’ve written. Last month, you tried your hand at it and it got picked by one of your favorite nsfw voice actors. The thrill of hearing their deep voice moaning the words you wrote motivated you enough to work on another. The commission payment is an added bonus. With your full-time job occupying your week, weekends are the only free time you have to write, especially Friday nights. That’s why you need your concentration; and that’s why Geto’s loud music bothers you so much. You can’t completely hate him, though. After all, he’s the inspiration behind this latest piece, though you will never admit that to him. Ever. In fact, this entire gig you’re doing is a secret only for you to harbor. Not even your closest friends are aware that you’re doing this as a hobby.
The document sits temporarily forgotten on your laptop while you galivant with your besties throughout the day. After a delicious dinner together, they drop you off to your apartment, where pour yourself a glass of white wine to sip on in your pajamas while you edit your naughty script at the dining table.
You’ve read it twice through, starting from the top for a third review when there’s a knock on your door. You check your phone, searching for a text from a friend who might be stopping by, but you see none. Confused, you tip toe in your fuzzy slippers to look through the peephole, surprised to see Geto standing on the other side.
You open the door, greeting him hesitantly. “Um, hi.”
He nods, hands in his pockets, giving you a quick scan before speaking. “Hey. I, uh, locked myself out. The landlord isn’t going to be back until an hour or so and I’m too cheap to call a locksmith right now. Is it cool if I just hang out in here while I wait?”
You consider this carefully, still in disbelief that this happening. You can’t just kick him to the curb and refuse, especially when it’ll only be for a short while. Deciding to let bygones be bygones, you agree to help him, opening the door wider to let him through.
“Thank you,” he mutters, stepping inside. “Do you want me to take my shoes off?”
“Yes. I think I have some slippers for you. I’ll be right back.” You rush to your bedroom, searching for a pair of slides that he can use in the meantime. It takes a while to find them, buried under a pile of junk in your closet. Before you head out to meet him, you quickly put a bra on, acutely aware that he might have caught sight of your nipples peeking through the thin layer of your shirt. It doesn’t matter, though; he doesn’t think of you in like that anyways. You’re just his lame, lonely neighbor next door, right?
You return, looking towards the couch, expecting to see him sitting there. To your horror, you catch him at the dining table, seated where you previously were before he arrived, staring at your laptop screen.
“Hey!” You hustle towards him, slamming it shut with enough force to rattle the table.
He glances at you, cheeks red, an odd expression on his face. “What was that?” he asks, pointing to the computer.
You snatch it away, storing it in one of the kitchen drawers, desperate to hide it as if the damage hasn’t already been done. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”
He stands up, lips parted, trying to find the words to say. “That was…I’m pretty sure it said…Is that about me?”
Your skin is sweltering now, beyond freaked out and unsure how to fix this mess. Is it better to lie and try to chalk it up as one big joke? Or should you be honest and hope he’s understanding about it? Either way, there’s no turning the clock back. He’s already read something, and it’s not going to be leaving his mind anytime soon.
You decide to tell him the truth, as best as you can explain it. “Okay, I know it’s weird, but I write these types of scripts for voice actors to perform. It’s just a little part-time hobby I have, and I even get paid for it. Sure, it’s a little risqué, but it’s nothing illegal, okay?” He continues to stare at you, expression relaxing just the slightest bit.
“Also, it’s not about you. Maybe it’s a little bit inspired by you, but it’s definitely not about you. Not exactly,” you add, uncertainty laced in your voice. This is even more mortifying than you expected it to be. Is it too late to break the lease on your rent and move across town?
It’s quiet for what seems like forever. He doesn’t respond, contemplating your explanation silently to himself. Eventually, he takes a couple steps towards you, reaching behind to slide the drawer open, pulling your laptop out. You’re frozen, stunned by his close proximity, anticipating his next move. Finally, he says, “I want to read the rest of it.”
“What?”
He smirks, tension easing from his shoulders as he sits down, taking a swig from your wine glass. “I want to finish it. It was getting good before you stopped me.” He opens your laptop screen, the document appearing exactly where he left off.
You bury your face in your hands, taking the seat beside him, groaning. “I can’t believe this is happening right now.” You refill your glass almost to the brim with wine, taking a large gulp of it before passing it to him.
“Did you really think you could keep something like this a secret? This is pretty wild,” he chuckles, tipping it into his mouth, at the same spot where you did.
“I didn’t think you’d be the first person to find out, though.” You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for whatever is about to unravel from this.
“Fair enough.” He scans the words, reading each one meticulously. “So are these lines supposed to be, like, what the voice actor says? It’s just them talking?”
“Yup.”
He giggles, blushing. “Okay, so, we’re pretending that I’m the asshole neighbor. Got it. Are you sure this isn’t about me?”
“It’s inspired by you. Inspired,” you reiterate, swallowing a large gulp of alcohol.
He bites his lip, hiding his smile. “Okay. Um, so it says here in the bracket that there’s knocking.”
“That’s the cue for sound effects.”
“Got it. So,” Geto knocks thrice on the surface of the dining table, reading, “What can I do for you, neighbor? Oh, you want me to turn the volume down? Is it too loud for you again? This is totally about me!”
You can’t help but laugh, shrugging. “Maybe it’s a little bit about you.”
He hides his smile behind his hand, swearing under his breath. “Shit, okay.” He clears his throat before continuing. “I’m sorry for being so noisy these past few weeks. Do you think you could ever forgive me? Do people really get off on lines like this?”
“Just keep reading it!” you yell at him, playfully kicking him beneath the table.
“Okay, okay! Ahem. I think I know exactly what I can do to make it up to you. I know you like me, even though I’m such an asshole. Think you can forgive me for just one night?”
You clench your thighs together, concealing the arousal growing between your legs. You’ve always thought he had a sexy voice but paired with the script and knowing what’s about to come, it’s hard to control your desires.
His voice is hushed now, low and sultry. “Yeah? That’s what I thought. You want this cock, don’t you?” Geto swallows thickly, pausing to catch his breath. “Been hungry for it this entire time, huh?” There’s a blush in his cheeks again. He shifts in his seat, hands down at his lap. “Well, go ahead. Come get it. Use me like you’ve always wanted to. Whoa, okay, this is…this is getting a little crazy now,” he chuckles nervously, avoiding your gaze.
Unable to resist your curiosity, you glimpse at his crotch, an obvious bulge protruding from his sweatpants, stunned that he’s hard right now. Without thinking, you scoot closer to him, placing your hand on his knee. He meets your gaze, eyes wide, lips parted.
“If you want to, we can stop,” you whisper, fingers trailing his inner thigh delicately. You can’t deny it any longer. You want him. You’ve always wanted him. And if he didn’t feel the same, he would have already been gone by now, too weirded out by your strange hobby to stick around. Yet, here he is, playing along with it, playing along with you.
You wait for his answer, resting your hand dangerously near his erection strained in his pants. “I don’t want to stop,” he says, spreading his legs wider for you. “l want to be a good neighbor to you from now on. The very best.”
~~~
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” he pants, stripping his clothes off hastily as you watch him, already naked on your bed. When he’s finished, he hovers over you, relishing the sight of you beneath him.
You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a passionate kiss, tongues swirling around each other’s sloppily. “You’re sure you want to keep going?” you ask between smooches.
He laughs, sucking on your bottom lip. “I’m not stopping this for anything. Are you sure you want to keep going?”
You nod at him, guiding his hands to your breasts. “Absolutely.”
He pinches your nipples until they’re perky and you’re whining in ecstasy, rutting your hips against him, desperate for friction. He slides down, leaving a trail of kisses along your body until he’s at your arousal, tongue lapping at your clit. You squeeze his head between your thighs, his mouth pressed firmly to your cunt, slurping at your juices. “Fuck, Geto. Feels so good.”
“Suguru,” he muffles, lips latched to your swelling bud. “Call me Suguru.”
You run your fingers through his hair as he eats you out, tugging at the strands when you reach your first orgasm, gushing all over his face. He licks you slowly as you come down from your high, flicking the tip of his tongue on your sensitive bud. He reaches down to stroke his cock, stiff in his fist and leaking with precum. “Fuck, you taste amazing. So fucking pretty when I eat out this sloppy cunt. Can I fuck you now, sweetheart? I want to make you come around my cock.”
You roll over in bed, spreading your ass cheeks for him. “Yeah, fuck me, Suguru. Fuck this wet cunt.”
He wipes the sweat beading on his forehead, jerking his cock feverishly in his other hand. “Fuck, I knew you were a slut, I just knew it,” he huffs, slapping his dick on your ass, rubbing it slowly between the soft flesh of your cheeks. He guides himself inside you, stretching you out little by little until you swallow him up completely. He starts thrusting, his motions extra smooth from your previous orgasm. “All those nights, I listened to you touch yourself with those vibrators. I’d stroke my cock with you, come whenever you did. Your little whimpers are so fucking sexy, especially when you try to hide them. You have no idea what you do to me.”
You’re too fucked out to process his confession, throwing your ass in tandem with his thrusts. His grip is tight on your waist, fucking you like you’ve never been fucked before. Suddenly, he pulls out, pussy fluttering around nothing, eager to be stuffed gain. You whine, craning your neck to glare at him while he gives you a naughty smirk, reaching for your nightstand. “Are they in here? Your toys?” He searches it blindly, retrieving one of your favorites, clicking the button to activate it, buzzing in his hold. “Use it while you use me.”
You obey his request without question, holding the vibrator against your sensitive clit as he pushes himself back inside you, pounding away at your cunt. You climax twice more around him, completely spent now, brain like mush, letting the toy fall off the bed, slippery with your cum. He laughs at your docile expression, pulling out to bury his face back into your pussy, licking off all the cum smeared over you, determined to make you come again. When you do, he crawls up the bed, a satisfied smile on his face, straddling you while he pumps his cock in his fist. After a couple strokes, he shoots onto your tits, covering them in his pearly cum, moaning your name.
He helps you clean it off, grabbing several tissues from the nightstand, wiping your chest dry. You scoot closer to the wall to make room for him, snuggling beside you with his mouth grazing your forehead, giving you a smooch.
Thinking logically again, you recall his confession from earlier. “Can you really hear me through these walls?”
He chuckles. “Yeah. But only if I’m listening really carefully.”
“And did you really…?”
“Yeah. I did,” he admits, blushing. “Sorry. I guess I’m kind of a pervert.”
You giggle, nuzzling into his chest. “Well, what does that make me then? Who’s the one who wrote filthy scenarios about you?”
“I thought you said it was only inspired by me?” he teases, cuddling you closer.
“It was totally about you, okay? I just never thought it’d actually happen.”
He massages your back lovingly. “Aren’t you glad it did?”
You peer up to smile at him. “Yeah. I am.”
~~~
The following weekend, there’s another noise complaint. This time, however, it’s you receiving it from your neighbor on the other side, complaining about how loud you and Geto are while having sex.
#geto suguru#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#suguru geto smut#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x you#geto smut#geto x reader#geto x you#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#y2k karaoke party#milestone event
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“freak-a-leek” by petey pablo for a jean and eren threesome if that’s okay plz
Freek-A-Leak
Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader x Jean Kirstein
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~1.9k
cw: modern setting au, explicit language, p*rn w/no plot, smut – threesome, PIV sex (missionary), cunnilingus, blowjob, sex toy use, masturbation, cum-eating, dirty talk, sex without a condom, pet names (baby, sweetheart), reader has multiple orgasms, creampies, just some overall smutty silliness
Summary: You’re on a business trip with the two cockiest salesmen in your department: Eren Jaeger and Jean Kirstein. After a long day of dealing with them clashing over the silliest things, you decide to unwind in your hotel room the best way you know how.
Author’s Note: This is the last song on the y2k karaoke party playlist! Thank you so much for the request anon! I had fun with this! It’s all horny and just plain silly, so I hope you like it. Thank you so much for reading! MDNI divider by @/cafekitsune.
It’s almost 10 PM when you finally make it back to your hotel room, completely spent from today’s activities. It’s the first day of the conference here in Marley and being stuck in the middle of Eren Jaeger and Jean Kirstein has proven to be much more exhausting than you anticipated.
You’re not completely convinced you needed to come on this business trip with them. After all, they’re the top two salesmen in your department, and this conference is solely for selling your product to new customers. Your boss, Hangë, encouraged you, the lead design engineer, to tag along in case they needed any technical support while demonstrating the ODM equipment. You were reluctant at first, but when they emphasized the fact that this trip would be completely paid for, including the lodging and food, how could you refuse?
Unfortunately for you, because of the two clashing personalities between Jean and Eren, you ended up playing mediator throughout the day rather than engineer. The two bickered as usual, from where to eat, to what side of the table they wanted to stand on. In front of the customers, they were professional and charismatic, no hint of animosity lingering around them. As soon as it was the three of you alone, it was nonstop arguing and snide remarks, with you doing your best to either ignore it or alleviate it until the next fight arose.
Luckily for you, Hangë set you up with your own room at the hotel while the other two shared the one right beside you. There’s an adjoining door for easy access into each other’s space and Jean begs you to open it when you first check in, not wanting a single moment alone with his temporary roommate. But after today’s festivities, you’re desperate for some private time by yourself.
Jean steps into your room, leaning against the doorframe. “So, should we watch a movie?” he suggests, still in his dress shirt, tie loosened around his collar.
Eren appears behind him, on his tip-toes to get your attention. “Why don’t we play video games instead?”
You yawn, shooing them away. “I’m exhausted, so I’m going to sleep.”
You try to shut the door on them, but Jean pushes back, persistent. “You’re not seriously going to leave me alone with him, are you?” He points his thumb to the man behind him.
Eren scoffs. “I don’t want to be alone with you either!”
“Dude, you are breathing down my neck! Give me some space.”
“Then move so I can talk to her!”
“It’s not your turn to talk!”
“Guys!” you yell, losing your patience. “I am tired. Try to get along so we can all get some sleep. Please?”
They grumble to themselves, shoving elbows at each other before they finally leave you alone, closing the door to give you your peace. You don’t bother locking in, certain they won’t be bothering you the rest of the night.
After a nice, hot shower, you get comfortable in your pajamas, rummaging through one of your pouches until you find what you’re looking for. After a long day with those two goofballs, the best way for you to relieve stress is to have a little playtime. You carry your vibrator with you to bed, one ear bud in, and your favorite naughty audio ready to play on your phone. Only five minutes in, with the fluttering tip pressed to your clit, it doesn’t take long for you to orgasm. Ready for another, you get distracted by the muffled voices of your neighbors, bickering once again. You pop your ear bud out, trying to hear whatever dumb topic they’re arguing about now. The toy is still vibrating in your hands, the tip wet with your arousal. You let your imagination wander, thinking of Jean and Eren just on the other side of the wall. Hot, heated, raring to go. Fantasizing about the nasty, filthy things they could do to you if they knew just how horny you are, pent up with sexual frustration from all the testosterone you were surrounded with today.
Suddenly, the door swings open and Eren stomps into the room, shouting your name. “Who do you find more annoying, me or him?!” Jean follows right on his tail, trying to grab him by the collar of his undershirt, hissing, “She’s sleeping, you dumbass!” They stop in their tracks, staring wide-eyed at you with your legs spread open on the bed, blanket shrugged off, vibrator buzzing in your hand. Completely exposed.
You quickly pull the covers over you, hiding the toy beneath your pillow, mortified. “What the fuck?!” you yell out to them.
Both of them gape at you, blushing all the way down to their necks, speechless for the first time all day. Their silence is louder than any squabbling they’ve done today, and you have no idea what to say to make this any less awkward than it already is.
Before you can think of another response, Eren clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey Jean. Bet I can make her come harder than you can.”
Jean glances at him, hesitant at first, then relaxes into a smirk. “Oh yeah? You’re on.”
Eren steps towards the bed, grinning at you. “What do you say? Will you help us?”
You stare at them, befuddled and also extremely intrigued by this offer. Deciding quickly, you nod at them, releasing the grip on the blanket. They both smile at you, putting a flutter in your belly. Eren laughs, tugging on the covers slowly. “Come on. You can’t hide from us now.”
Jean joins in, dragging it down your body until you’re on display again, pussy glistening from your first orgasm. They both swear under their breaths, Eren licking his lips while Jean bites his. “Fuck, did you already come?”
“Yeah, I did,” you answer, pussy aching to be touched by either one of them. Both of them.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” Eren says, inching towards you. “You’re extra juicy for me, huh?”
“Why do you get to go first?” Jean butts in, scowling.
Eren positions himself at your arousal, his breath hot on your pussy as he replies, “I don’t want to lick your spit.”
“Well, I don’t want to lick yours either! Let me goes first.”
“Fuck you, I’m already here.”
“Then move!”
“Guys!” you cry out, bucking your hips, desperate for anything at this point. “Just hurry up and touch me. Please.”
Eren sticks his tongue out. “You heard her,” he muffles, licking circles around your clit. “Let’s make our girl feel good.”
Jean swallows hard, positioning himself beside you, puckering his lips around your nipples and sucking. You moan, arching your back off the bed, running your fingers through his hair. “Feels so good,” you whine, feeding your other breast to him. He latches on immediately, pulling your teat between his lips while Eren laps at your puffy clit. With your free hand, you grab hold of his hair, gripping it to pull him deeper into your cunt. Soon, you’re gushing on his face, rutting your hips against him while he swallows every drop of you.
“Fuck, you taste good,” Eren says, tongue prodding into your slit.
“I want a taste too,” Jean mutters, giving your nipple one last hard suck before he releases you with a wet pop.
“Not yet,” Eren murmurs, kissing the soft plush of your thighs.
Jean crawls to where he is, shoving him slightly to stick his face into your pussy. “It’s my turn, jackass.” He laps at your clit, determined to be better than his rival.
Eren laughs, collecting your slick slathered on his chin and lips with his fingers, licking it off. “Be honest, baby. Is he doing better than me?” He strips out of his bottoms, lying beside you, stroking his hard cock.
You squeeze your thighs around Jean’s head, bucking into his mouth, already close to your third climax. Your eyes go from Eren’s fist jerking himself off to Jean’s face shaking between your legs, eating you out feverishly. He teases a finger inside you and when you flutter around it, he slides in all the way, adding a second.
“No fair,” Eren breathes out, stroking himself faster.
Jean chuckles against your skin, sucking on your clit while he pumps his fingers in and out of you. You turn your head to face Eren, leaning towards him to kiss him sloppily. He cradles your cheek with his free hand, pulling you in deeper, tongue swirling around yours, slurping up your spit. Once again, you’re pushed over the edge, coming on Jean’s face this time, his nose pressed to your sensitive bud as he drinks up all the slick leaking out of you.
“Fuck me,” you beg, not directing it to anyone in particular.
Eren smiles against your mouth, licking your drool off the corners of your lips. “Go ahead, Jean. You can go first.”
Jean shoves his pants down, releasing his stiff cock, palming it. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah,” he says, kneeling next to your head, tracing your lips with the tip of his cock. “We’re having way too much fun right here, aren’t we sweetheart?” You nod in response, moaning around his dick as you sink your mouth on it, swallowing it until it’s to the back of your throat. “Fuck, you take it so good. You wanted to get fucked like this tonight, huh? Wanted to show us what a freak you are.”
Jean slides his cock inside you, stretching you out until he bottoms out. He spreads your legs apart, holding you open so he can pound straight into you. Eren’s focus goes from his own pleasure to his friend thrusting. “Fuck her harder, Jean.”
He obeys, picking up the pace, shoving himself deeper. You choke on your own moans, pulling off Eren to catch your breath. He cradles your face in his hands, massaging your cheeks tenderly. “You’re okay, sweetheart. Take a break. Just enjoy getting fucked by this fat cock.”
“Fuck,” Jean growls, closing his eyes. “I’m so close.”
Eren licks his lips, watching. “Don’t pull out. Fill her up.”
At that, Jean loses it, spurting his hot load inside you, your pussy fluttering around him. He pulls out, switching spots with Eren, snuggling up next to you to kiss you softly. You smile at him, whispering, “Thank you.”
He plants a smooch on your nose. “Thank you, baby.”
“Hey, don’t forget about me,” Eren says, guiding his hard cock inside you. “I’m going to fuck all this cum right back inside this cunt.”
You and Jean both moan, watching him fuck you with a devilish grin on his face. Jean reaches under the pillow, retrieving the toy you used earlier. “Can I use this on you?”
Incoherent and fucked out, you nod, desperate for whatever it is they want to offer to you. He presses the button, making the vibrator buzz in his grip, pressing the fluttering tip to your clit while Eren continues to ravish you. His eyes widen when he sees what Jean’s doing. “Oh shit. She’s squeezing me so fucking tight.”
You’re in a drunken daze, trembling all over your body from the pleasure, whimpering uncontrollably with Jean toying with your clit as Eren fucks your brains out. When you reach your final climax, Eren comes with you, burying his cum deep inside your womb. You’re stuffed to the brim with both their loads, feeling exhausted and euphoric.
Eren pulls out, cuddling up to your other side, kissing your forehead. Jean sets the vibrator aside, spooning you from the back. You relax in their arms, actually happy to be stuck in the middle of them for once.
After a moment of comfortable silence, Eren asks jokingly, “So…who won?”
“Obviously me,” Jean grins, kissing your neck.
You laugh, snuggling closer to the both of them. “I think I’m the real winner here.”
#eren jaeger x reader#eren jaeger smut#eren jaeger x you#jean kirstein x reader#jean kirstein smut#jean kirstein x you#eren x reader x jean#eren x reader smut#jean x reader smut#eren x reader#eren yeager smut#eren yeager x reader#eren x you#jean x reader#jean x you#aot smut#attack on titan smut#y2k karaoke party#milestone event#eren smut
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if your karaoke event is still open i’d like to request glamorous by fergie with sugar daddy!nanami - fluff and smut, maybe some mile high inspired by “We flyin' the first class, up in the sky” thanks!
Glamorous
We flyin' the first class up in the sky
Pairing: Nanami x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~1.4k
cw: established relationship, smut - semi-public sex, vaginal sex (cowgirl position), dry humping, clitoral stimulation, pet names, slight daddy kink
Summary: Your sugar daddy takes you halfway across the world in first class, so naturally, things get a little naughty.
Author’s Note: Love love love sugar daddy!Nanami and this is such a classic for the y2k karaoke party. Thanks for the request and I hope you like this! Divider credit to @/cafekitsune (as always).
You make it very obvious that you’ve never been in first-class before. As Nanami holds your hand, leading you down the aisle, you audibly gasp at how large the seats are, and how there are actually barriers for privacy. You’ve only ever seen this on Youtube or Instagram, never in real life. And now, you’re here, about to experience it for yourself! It’s crazy how your life has taken a drastic turn in just a few short months.
Nanami was your first customer at the bakery you opened in the beginning of the year. He ordered two croissants, one plain and the other almond. He sat at a table, savoring each bite slowly. When he was done, he approached you, complimenting your pastry skills. You noticed flaky crumbs scattered on his tie as he was turning to leave, and without thinking properly, you tugged on it, pulling him towards you, patting at his chest with heat surrounding your cheeks. In that moment, the both of you were already smitten with each other. It took a month for you to figure out how well-off he is. It wasn’t because he was hiding it or anything; it just never mattered much to either of you. When you put the pieces together, sure, you were surprised. But even before that, you were falling fast for him. This extra bit is just an added bonus.
The flight attendant directs you to your assigned section all the way towards the back of the plane, somewhat secluded from the other passengers. You settle into the seat by the window, appreciating how comfortable it is compared to all the other regular economy class you’ve sat in. The excitement must be showing on your face because Nanami lets out a small laugh, watching you with an amused smile on his face. “Having fun?”
You grin at him. “Maybe a little too much.”
He holds your hand, placing soft kisses between your knuckles. “Well, keep enjoying it, my love. It’s going to be a long flight. Thank you again for accompanying me on this business trip. Are you sure the bakery will be okay?”
You wave him off. “It’s in great hands, so don’t worry about it at all. I’m just happy to be here with you.”
“Me too,” he says, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. He lingers for longer than you expect, then brushes past your cheek to whisper in your ear, “Can’t wait to get you on top of me.”
You tap on his chest playfully, heat surrounding your face, flustered. “Kento, we’re in public.”
He tips his head to the side. “And…?”
“We can’t do it here. Not when there’s people around.”
He reaches for the door, sliding it shut. If you didn’t already know that you were amongst others, it truly does seem like you have your own private space. “Is this better?” he asks.
You roll your eyes at him despite the fluttering in your belly, thrilled about the possibilities. “Behave yourself.”
He plants a smooch on your cheek, acting innocently. “Okay, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”
~~~
More than thirty thousand feet up in the air, four hours into the flight, and the best airplane food you’ve ever had in your life properly digested, you and Nanami are ready for bed. All the cabin lights are dimmed low and the flight attendants check in one last time before wishing you goodnight. Your boyfriend closes the door quietly then reclines his seat halfway, resting his palms behind his head. He glances at you, smirking as he closes his eyes completely shut. “Well, goodnight.”
You study him silently, wondering if you should jump on this opportunity to do something naughty or if you should just go to sleep, like a good girl. He peeks at you with one eye, catching your gaze. “Something on your mind?” he asks, as if he already knows the answer.
You shrug, unsure how to bring it up without eating your words from earlier. Luckily, he doesn’t make you. He beckons you over, patting his lap, voice low and sultry. “Come here.”
Worried that everyone on the outside of your pod will become aware of the nefarious deed you’re about to commit, you move quietly, stripping down to your underwear before you straddle him, arms linked behind his neck. He stares up at you, a pleased expression on his face, expecting this. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.”
So maybe he makes you eat your words just a tad bit.
You bite your lip, holding back whimpers as you grind on him, feeling his cock starting to harden after a few strokes back and forth. His grip is firm on your hips, barely guiding you, letting you be in control. He reaches towards you, pressing his thumb to your clothed clit, relishing the wet spot beginning to leak through the fabric of your panties. A moan escapes you, leading to him cover your mouth with his palm, chuckling. “Honey, you have to promise to be quiet, okay? I know how loud you can get.”
You nod. “I’ll be quiet, I promise,” you whisper against his skin.
He smiles, fingers at your chin, thumb grazing the outline of your lips. “Good girl. Now make yourself come before I give you this cock.”
Remaining still, he lets you dry hump him slowly, savoring it with his grip still firm on your hips. His breathing wavers, trying to maintain his composure, gradually unraveling from the anticipation of soon being buried in your wet cunt. As soon as you reach your first orgasm, panties soaked with your arousal, he shrugs his bottoms off just enough to free his stiff cock, glistening with precum at the tip. He reaches for the bag beside him, retrieving a bottle of lube from one of the pockets, squirting it onto his palm to coat his cock with it. His eyes never leave yours, licking his lips like he’s salivating.
You lift off your knees, trying to remove your underwear, but he brings you back to him, rutting his shaft against the dampness of your panties. “Don’t. I want you like this.” He hooks the fabric to the side, tapping his wetted tip at your clit before sliding his entire length inside you. You cling to him tighter, nestling your face into his shoulder, holding back your moans.
He begins thrusting up into you while he bounces you on his dick, his fingers digging into your flesh. “Fuck,” he mutters, brows tight with concentration. One hand glides to your ass cheek, squeezing it. For a brief moment, it hovers over your skin, and before you can convince not to do it, he slaps your ass, the smack surely loud enough for any of your neighbors to her.
You hiss his name, heat engulfing your entire body now. “Kento!” All he does is laugh, kissing you sloppily to prevent you from scolding him any further.
The seat beneath you starts creaking noisily when Nanami picks up the pace, fucking you feverishly, sweat beading from his forehead. You gain a second wind, riding him deep as he plays with your clit once more, rubbing it between his fingers. “Fuck, daddy,” you whine, grinding on him, cunt squeezing around him as you approach your second orgasm.
“That’s it, princess. Come for me. Make a fucking mess for daddy,” he growls, thrusting faster, harder, fingers squelching lewdly on your swollen bud. You come for him, whimpering into his mouth as you kiss each other passionately. He comes shortly after, shooting his hot load inside you, filling you up with his cream pie.
Before you can relax in each other’s arms as you normally would post-sex, there’s a gentle knocking on the door, startling you both. You hop off him, kicking your discarded pants somewhere hidden, retreating back into your seat, covering yourself quickly with a blanket. Nanami pulls his pants back up, doing the same, clearing his throat before answering, sliding the door just a crack. “Yes?”
The flight attendant beams at you, seemingly oblivious to what just occurred. “Your call light is on, so I’m just checking in!”
Nanami blushes, running his fingers through his hair. “I must have hit it on accident. Sorry about that.”
They smile, giving you both a knowing wink. “Don’t worry. Happens all the time. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
With that, Nanami shuts the door, hiding his laughter behind his hand as you huddle beneath the blanket, mortified at being caught, officially a member of the mile high club.
#nanami smut#kento nanami smut#nanami kento smut#nanami x reader#nanami kento#nanami x you#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#kento nanami#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#y2k karaoke party#milestone event
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Hi are you still doing song requests? If so can you do Make You Feel My Love by Adele for Toji? 🥹 please and thank you ☺️
Make You Feel My Love
Part Two to Photograph
Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader
Word Count: ~2.3k
cw: fluff, explicit language, basically all fluff lol
Summary: Toji Fushiguro is nothing like his previous self. He’s become hardened, almost completely desensitized through the years, being used and abused by his own family, the Zenin clan. After the loss of his first wife, Toji takes his son and decides to finally run away to the only place where he can feel like his true self again: home. There, he reunites with a familiar face.
Author’s Notes: Thank you for this request for the y2k karaoke party! I thought it’d be perfect as a continuation to this story. I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading. Divider credits to @/cafekitsune.
“Zenin?”
Your voice is soft, almost breathless, when you utter his name as he stands between the door frame of your classroom, hands in his pockets, a shy expression on his face. “Uh, yeah. It’s me. I go by Fushiguro now.”
You look between him and Megumi, spotting the similarities instantly. The jet-black hair, the same-colored eyes, almost identical facial structure. A spitting image of his father, who stands before you, much bigger than when you last saw him, but certainly the same boy who’s grown into a man. There isn’t time to catch up as your students file in, greeting their new classmate politely at his desk. Toji clears his throat, stepping aside to make room for the kids to walk in. “I’ll be back later to pick up the kid, if you want to catch up.”
The kid. You hide your giggles, pleased to hear that he still sounds like the same Toji you knew many years ago. His eyes light up at your laughter; he doesn’t remember the last time he heard a genuine one like yours. Sweet, pure, and music to his ears.
The bell rings, and that’s his cue to leave. There isn’t much to do throughout the day, considering he is now unemployed. He’s tempted to resort to old habits and head to the racetrack to gamble on horses, but instead, he goes to the public library to use a computer, searching for job openings around the area. The day passes quickly and it’s time for him to pick up Megumi. He waits outside, watching as all the other children run towards their parents, most of whom eye him with wary expressions. He’s gotten used to lingering glances like this, aware of his intimidating presence. It doesn’t bother him anymore; he’s used to being seen as some sort of monster. And with what he’s done during his life as a Zenin, maybe he is.
Megumi is the last outside, hand-in-hand with you, his teacher. You both give him a wave, your eyes twinkling with kindness and a bright smile. You’re the only one who looks at Toji like this. The only one who sees him as human. When you approach him, he places his hand on Megumi’s head, ruffling his hair. “How was it?”
His son grins, giving his father a thumbs up.
“You made some new friends, right Megumi?” you say, squeezing his hand. “What are their names?”
In his squeaky voice, he replies, “Yuji and Nobara.”
Toji smirks. “Friends already? That’s great, bud. I knew you’d like it here.”
Megumi lets go of you, holding onto his dad’s wrist. “Yuji said he’s getting ice cream down the street with his grandpa. Can we go too?”
“Of course,” Toji responds. He looks to you, tipping his head to the side. “Want to join us?”
~~~
You’re sitting in a booth across from the Fushiguros, who share the biggest chocolate fudge sundae they could order off the menu. Eventually, Megumi spots his new pink-haired friend and asks if they can play at the mini arcade together in the back of the shop, to which Toji agrees, passing him money. Now, you’re alone with him, hundreds of questions you want to ask, but are too nervous to. You sip on your milkshake, unsure where to begin.
Fortunately, he speaks first. “Did you stay in Tokyo this entire time?”
You shake your head. “I went to university overseas, then I moved back.”
“Overseas, huh? Sounds fun,” he muses, scooping a big bite into his mouth.
“How about you? Where did you go?” The last memory you have of him is the distraught look on his face, after you shared a kiss together. The next day, he was gone.
He licks the back of his spoon, collecting all the chocolate off. “Here and there. But mostly there.”
“You were still in Tokyo?” You try not to sound outraged. Deep down, you’re hurt by the way the two of you parted. And if he was truly here all along, you’re even more upset, knowing he had all this time to apologize. Years and years, you wondered if all the little moments you shared together were just that, or something more. Even now, finally meeting him in the flesh, you’re uncertain where you stand with him.
He senses your uneasiness, sitting up straight to explain. “The Zenins relocated to a more remote location up in the mountains in order to carry out their dirty deeds. I dropped out of school and started working full time as their lackey. I was often sent to Tokyo for duties.” He spreads his fingers, presenting his hands towards you, calloused and scarred from overwork and guilt. “I’ve done things that I am not proud of. Hurt people that didn’t deserve it. I didn’t want to do it, but at the time, I had no other choice.”
You listen to him intently, sipping on your milkshake slowly, giving him your undivided attention as he continues his story.
“Me and Megumi’s mom had an arranged marriage. The Zenins wanted me to produce an heir once my father’s health started to decline. She was a kind woman, the closest thing I had to an escape. But still, the both of us were trapped. It didn’t matter that we had each other; we were both under the wills of our families.”
“After a few months of trying, she got pregnant. Our lives felt normal during this time. Like we were a regular family. Me, her, Megumi in her belly. My father left us alone. He wanted to make sure I was taking good care of her so that our son would come out strong and healthy. And he did. He was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
Toji takes a deep breath, the both of you anticipating this next part. “It was a home birth, per my father’s request. I should have said something from the start, but I didn’t think anything would go wrong. After Megumi was delivered, the bleeding wouldn’t stop.” He swallows hard, throat tight with emotion. “And by the time the ambulance arrived, she was gone.”
He avoids your gaze, staring hard at the metal container filled with napkins on the side of the table. You’re tempted to reach for his hand, to offer comfort, but you decide against it, deeming it inappropriate.
“My family couldn’t care less. All that mattered to them is that they had their new heir. They didn’t even cry when she passed away.” His jaw is clenched tight, hands in fists, trembling against the table’s surface. “Heartless bastards, all of them. I should have left with Megumi then, but I didn’t. I was a fucking coward, too scared to face the world alone. And with a little baby at that.”
“Why did you decide to finally leave?” you ask.
“They were going to start training Megumi how to fight. He’s only five-years-old, for fuck’s sake. He’s the gentlest, sweetest kid, and they want him to become like me. I didn’t want that. I don’t want Megumi to have the life I did, not if I can help it.” He unclenches his fists, relaxing into his seat, spooning whatever melted ice cream remains into his mouth.
You lean forward, resting your elbows on the table. “Why did you decide to come back here?”
He doesn’t respond right away, pretending to be preoccupied with the swirly mess of sweet cream in front of him. He contemplates how best to explain himself. If he admits the truth, it may come off too strong. The reason he’s returned home is because of you. The photo of you and him smiling on the beach a decade ago is in his pocket, wrinkled and faded from years of yearning. He had dreamt of this day ever since he left, hoping the next time you reunite, he’ll be free of the Zenin name. Free to do as he pleases, free to love who he wants. And now that day has come, he’s just as nervous as he expected he'd be.
Not wanting to make a fool of himself, he says, “I know this area well. Figured it’d be a good place for us to start fresh.”
You smile at him. “If you and Megumi ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’d like to help you in any way I can.”
“Megumi is a good kid. Quiet, but good. He doesn’t give me any trouble, so he makes it easy.”
“So nothing like his father, then?” you tease, raising a brow at him.
He chuckles. “Like I said, I’ll make sure of that.”
You reach for him, resting your hand on top of his. “You’re not all bad. You’re pretty great, remember?”
Instantly, you’re taken back ten years ago, moments before that kiss. Electricity sparks between you; his hand shifts beneath yours, his palm turned up now, fingertips brushing lightly against the delicate skin of your wrist. He gazes at you, smiling. The prominent scar across his lips more titillating than it’s ever been before. “Yeah, I remember.”
Before either of you can do anything more, Megumi returns to the table, head drenched in sweat, breathing heavily. He grabs the water cup on the table, chugging it aggressively, wiping his mouth with the hem of his t-shirt, fresh from a rousing game of Dance Dance Revolution against his new best friend.
~~~
Toji picks up Megumi every single day after school. He’s adamant about it, claiming it’s important for him to spend as much time with his son as possible, something he never experienced growing up. He accepts a job in construction, working early morning shifts in order to be outside the school steps promptly.
A few nights a week, he invites you to their apartment for dinner, where you help him cook simple recipes like fried rice or noodles, even little treats like rice balls for Megumi’s school snack. This Thursday night, you stay until bedtime, watching from the doorway as Toji tucks in his son, a small grin on his face, studying the way his eyelashes flutter into a deep slumber. Sound asleep, he sneaks out, closing the door quietly.
You check the time on your phone, disappointed that it’s getting late. “I should head home.”
He walks you to the exit. “Megumi is going to Yuji’s house for a sleepover tomorrow night.”
So far, Toji has kept his distance from you, though you’ve notice subtle glances here and there. You haven’t exactly been forward yourself, too nervous to make the first move or misunderstand what could be friendship and nothing more. Toji feels the same way, unsure if his feelings are reciprocated or if you’re simply this nice of a person. Hopefully, it’s both.
Your heart beats faster, not sure what you’re supposed to do with this information, waiting for him to elaborate. He clears his throat. “I want to take you out to dinner, to thank you for all that you’ve done for us.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“I want to,” he insists, smiling.
The following night, he arrives at your house, dressed in a flattering button-up and slacks, greeting your parents formally for the first time in over a decade. They remember him fondly, excited to see him all grown-up. He takes you to a restaurant downtown, ordering the most popular items on the menu to share between you, enjoying each other’s company as you always do. After dessert, he invites you to his house for a nightcap, and you’re a little too keen when you agree. While you wait for the water to boil in the tea kettle, you sit beside him on the couch, looking through pictures of him and Megumi on his phone.
“We went to the beach the first weekend we moved in,” he says, showing a selfie of the two of them sitting on the sand.
You nudge him in the arm with your elbow. “Remember that school project?”
He grins, leaning into you. “How could I forget?” He glances at your lips, then into your eyes, inching even closer. You gravitate towards him, holding your breath, ready to kiss. Then, the tea kettle whistles, ruining the moment.
Chuckling, he stands up to remove it from the stove. You sit back into the couch, sighing, body tingling and flustered. He returns shortly with a hot mug of tea in his hands, setting it on the coffee table. “You should let it cool. It’s too hot right now.” He sinks into the cushion beside you, knee brushing yours.
“Did you like me back? When we first kissed?” It’s one of the many questions still unanswered, and you decide that now is the best time to find out the truth.
He smiles, grasping your hand gently. “Yes.”
You lock your fingers with his, filling in the spaces seamlessly. “Then why did you lie to me?”
“I didn’t think it’d be safe for you to be associated with me. Not while I was still a Zenin.” He pulls you forward, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, noses nearly touching now.
“And where’s the picture of us?” you whisper, nuzzling your nose to his, wanting so badly to close the distance.
“I took it. I’ve had it this whole time,” he admits, brushing his lips to yours. You kiss him fully, his grip around your waist, no signs of letting you go anytime soon. You make love to each other right there on his couch, your hot tea forgotten on the coffee table, cold by the time you remember it the next morning.
For the first time in his life, Toji doesn’t feel dangerous. He doesn’t feel like a monster or a threat. As he marvels at your peaceful form cradled delicately in his arms, Toji Fushiguro feels normal. He feels loved.
#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji x you#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro fluff#toji fluff#toji fic#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#y2k karaoke party#milestone event
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“S&M” by Rihanna for Toji Fushiguro - smut
S&M
I may be bad, but I'm perfectly good at it. Sex in the air, I don't care, I love the smell of it
Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~2.0k
cw: smut - PIV sex (doggy style), cunnilingus, mild S&M practices - whips, blindfold, handcuffs, protected sex (for once lol), use of safe word, rough sex, pet names (cutie, sweetheart)
Summary: You are next-door neighbors with a man named Toji Fushiguro. You don’t know much about him, except for the fact that he’s a divorced father who spends every other weekend with his young son, Megumi. On the weeks he doesn’t have him, you notice the same trio of women visiting his house. One night, his package gets incorrectly delivered to your door. Too curious, you walk over to return it, only to find the front door unlocked and a naughty secret to discover.
Author’s Notes: Thanks for the request anon! I love Rihanna, so it’s no surprise that she’s on the y2k karaoke party playlist! I personally am not well-versed with S&M practices, so this was an experience to write, definitely a little bit out of my comfort zone, but I hope it’s still okay! This is more on the milder side, I'm sure. Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated, thanks for reading! MDNI divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
You’re not usually this nosey when it comes to your neighbors, but something about Toji Fushiguro draws you in. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s a divorced dad who takes good care of his adorable son, Megumi. Or maybe it’s the mysterious trio of women who frequently visits his house on the weeks he doesn’t have his child. Or maybe it’s his obvious good looks and impressive physique that you can’t help but notice every time he steps foot outside. Whatever it is, whether it’s a combination of all of the above, you just can’t get Toji Fushiguro off your mind.
On this particular Friday night, you’re staying in, binging a TV show with a glass of white wine in your hands and a frozen pizza that you just baked in the oven. There’s a knock on your front door, which surprises you because you aren’t expecting anybody at this hour. You give it a few moments, seeing if there’s another knock. When none comes, you get up to scope it out, finding a large package directly in front of you and a delivery truck driving off in the distance. You check the shipping label, reading Toji’s name on it instead of yours. You glance at his front yard, spotting his car parked in the driveway and no one else’s. His girlfriends must have already left; you noticed their vehicle earlier beside his.
Not bothering to change into anything presentable, currently wearing your sweats and fuzzy slippers, you carry the wrongly delivered package to its rightful owner, hoping if you can find some truth behind your neighbor’s unique bi-weekly ritual. You’ve thought about it before, the most likely answer being a polyamorous relationship or group sex. Still, it’ll put your mind to rest to know exactly what he does in there when little Megumi is away and Toji is free to play. So, you carefully lift the box, which isn’t heavy, over to his front door, setting it down to ring the bell. You push the button, then notice that the door is already open, slightly ajar. Another ring, and no one comes, though you’re certain you hear movement inside.
You should turn around. Go back home, sink into your couch, continue the night as normal. Yet, your feet guide you in, closing the door shut behind you, tip-toeing farther into the house, waiting to catch Toji in the act, whatever that could be. Eventually, you make it to the living room, where you stand in the doorframe, searching for your neighbor, who you find sitting on the couch with his shirt off, scrolling through his phone.
You knock on the wall, announcing your presence. He looks up, confused, inspecting you carefully before saying your name. “What are you doing in here?” He’s way more cavalier than you imagined he’d be, which you’re thankful for.
You present the box to him, a nervous grin on your face as you explain, “This just got delivered to my house on accident. I rang the bell, but no one answered. And your front door was open, so I figured I’d just come inside to give it to you.” It’s a poor excuse; you really shouldn’t have barged in without permission.
He seems to buy it though, rolling his eyes, muttering, “Damn Kimi. She’s always doing that.” He approaches you, grabbing the box from your hands. “Thank you for getting this to me. Been waiting for it all night, so I was bummed it didn’t come in on time.” He sets it down on the floor, kneeling beside it, ready to unwrap.
You search the room, trying to find any clues of what they could be doing inside here. It looks normal, nothing nefarious standing out. Slightly disappointed, you take this as your cue to leave, turning on your heel to make your way back home. Before you can, Toji calls out your name and asks, “Don’t you want to see the little present I got? After all, it was almost yours. Would have loved to see your reaction if you opened it by accident.” His tone is playful, yet there’s something wicked behind his words. Something naughty.
You swallow hard, mouth already salivating. This isn’t how you planned your night to go, but you’d be lying if you said you haven’t thought about it before. You face him again, stepping towards the box slowly, sitting on the other side. He uses a pocketknife to slice through the tape, eyes lighting up as he reaches inside, holding up his delivered item like a treasure. It’s a riding whip, soft leather on one end, handle on the other. He smirks at you, slapping it against his palm, making a loud crack sound. You jump up, startled by the noise. He barks a laugh at your reaction, laying the whip down on the coffee table next to him. He reaches in again, pulling out three sets of fuzzy handcuffs, twirling one around his fingers. “Damn, would have been fun to use these tonight.” Glancing over at you, legs squeezed tightly together, arousal seeping through your panties, he scans you up and down, giving you a wicked smile. “You want to try these out, neighbor? I promise, I’ll go easy on you.”
It's ridiculous, right? Completely silly and irresponsible for you to agree to this, right? You blurt out your answer before you can even contemplate those questions logically. “Yes.”
He chuckles, biting him lip, eyes focused on your loins currently throbbing against the fabric of your sweats. You really wish you dressed up now, but it doesn’t matter, as he commands you to, “Strip.”
Almost too eagerly, you obey, kicking your slippers off and undressing, starting with your shirt, which you toss behind your shoulder. He studies you carefully, eyes following your every move as you slip out of your pants, down to only your underwear and bra now. He licks his lips, stepping closer to you. “Yeah,” he purrs, breath hot on your skin. “This will definitely work.”
~~~
Within minutes, you find yourself naked in his bedroom, blindfolded, wrists handcuffed behind you, face buried into the pillow, and ass up, perfectly vulnerable for him to do as he pleases. The two of you establish a safe word: mignon, because he thinks you’re cute, and the filet mignon is his favorite cut of meat. He suggests several acts he wants to perform on you and lets you decide which ones you want to go through with. You make your choice, asking to be spanked with the new whip he received. Something about breaking in one of his new accessories turns you on.
Not being able to see anything, you listen carefully to what he’s doing behind you. You hear him unwrap the condom wrapper, sliding the latex over his cock. Then, there’s a squelch, most likely the lube he’s pouring into his hand, coating his shaft with it. “Are you ready, cutie? I’m going to start with the whip first, okay?” You nod, heart pounding in your chest, nervous and thrilled all at once.
“Words, sweetheart. Use your words. I have to hear you say it.”
You swallow your spit, trying to speak coherently. “Yes. I’m ready.”
“Good. That’s a good girl.” You feel the cool leather against your skin, anticipating it as he counts down. “Three, two, one.” Then, smack. It’s quick, painful for only a few seconds. You can tell he’s holding back, cautious of you. “Did you like that?” he asks.
“Yes,” you say, wiggling your ass to him. “Give it to me harder.”
He chuckles, swearing under his breath. “Fuck, okay. I’ll go harder then.” He counts down once more, the slap definitely more intense this time. Your skin stings from the contact and it feels like you’re already gushing from your cunt, core tight with pleasure.
He continues this until he’s delivered ten smacks to each of your ass cheeks. Your body is sweltering now, the skin on your ass surely hotter than the rest of you. Your pussy flutters, aching to be filled, clit throbbing, desperate to be licked. “Toji,” you whimper, drooling from the sides of your mouth. “Fuck me.”
There’s that laugh again, low, taunting, so fucking sexy. “Not yet. Want to make you come before I fuck this pretty cunt.” He positions himself beneath you, between your legs. “Fuck my face. You can be rough with me. I can take it.”
His grip is firm on your hips, guiding you as you ride him, spreading yourself over his wide tongue and gaping mouth. He’s eats you better than any guy you’ve ever fucked before, sloppy and wet, as if he thoroughly enjoys slurping at your juices. He slides his hands over your ass, massaging the skin made raw from his spanking. And before you get a chance to warn him, you come all over his face, gushing into his mouth.
“Fuck yeah,” he muffles, lapping up your slick. “So fucking good for me.”
Desperate now to be filled, you beg, “Please, Toji. Fuck me. Need you inside me.”
He slides out from beneath you, positioning himself behind you with his cock pressed between your ass cheeks. “I need it too, cutie. Need to pump my fat cock inside this perfect pussy.” He moans loudly as he slides himself inside you, stretching you out, inch by inch, until you swallow him whole. He thrusts into you, slowly at first while you adjust to his length. Gradually, he picks up the pace, pounding you hard and fast, his grip on your wrists, still bound by the handcuffs. The stretch in your shoulders is starting to burn now, arms pinned way back as he uses it for leverage. It’s not enough to coax the safe word out of you, yet. You need more of him to satiate this overwhelming desire.
“You’re taking it like such a good girl,” he moans, pumping himself into you. “Did you ever think about this before? Think about me?”
“Fuck yes. All the time,” you admit, drooling onto the pillowcase.
“Shit, I knew it. I knew I should have slutted you out sooner,” he growls, bullying his way deeper. It’s almost too much. Almost. A couple more strokes and it actually is, your shoulders sore, nervous they’ll pop out of its sockets. You’ve had your fill of him, your guts feeling like they’ve been rearranged by his massive cock. You’re tempted to stay quiet, not wanting this to end just yet. But your body is begging you for a break.
“Mignon,” you croak out, throat dry from the incessant moaning.
“Fuck,” he mutters, pulling out, immediately unlocking the handcuffs on your wrists and untying the blindfold. “You were taking that so good.” He flips you over on your back, inspecting you. For the first time since you started, you make eye contact with him, your heart swelling from the genuine smile on his face, gazing at you fondly. “Are you okay, cutie?” He brushes the tears from your eyes, cupping your cheek in his calloused palm.
You nod, mumbling an exhausted, “Yes,” closing your eyes to lean into his touch.
He cuddles you, kissing your neck as he continues to stroke himself off. He trails down your chest, latching his lips around your nipple, sucking until he comes inside the condom. When he’s done, he removes it, tying the open end closed and tossing it into the waste basket next to him bed.
It’s silent for a few moments as the two of you relax in each other’s arms. Eventually, he clears his throat to say, “This was fun. I usually don’t do this outside of the group.”
You understand that he’s referring to the trio of women who you saw earlier, and finally, the mystery is solved. Slightly disappointed, you respond, “I’m sorry if I messed anything up.”
He smiles at you. “You didn’t.”
You snuggle closer, kissing him softly. His lips melt into yours, tongue slipping inside your mouth. When you break apart, you ask, “Then, should I only show up when they show up?”
He shakes his head, smirking. “No. I think I want you as my own special plaything from now on.”
#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji smut#jjk toji#toji x you#fushiguro toji#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut#toji fushiguro x you#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji smut#fushiguro toji x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#y2k karaoke party#milestone event
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congrats on hitting 2k! if song repeats are allowed i’d like to request Promiscuous with stripper!nanami inspired by that one fan art smutty ofc tysm ❤️
Promiscuous
Pairing: stripper!Nanami x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~4.0k
cw: modern day setting, no curses au, Americanized customs in regard to bachelorette parties, explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut – PIV sex (reverse cowgirl), cunnilingus, cream pie, slight breeding kink
Summary: You’re the maid-of-honor for your best friend Sara, the bride-to-be. This weekend, you’re celebrating her bachelorette party and what better way to end the night than at the strip club? Little do you expect that the breadsticks from dinner would come in handy much more than you think.
Author’s Notes: Thank you for the request anon for the y2k karaoke party! In case anyone wants to see the fan art being referenced, here’s the link on twitter. I didn’t want to use it as the header in case the artist doesn’t allow it. Anyways, this was such a fun one for me to write and I hope it’s a fun one for you all to read! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated! Thanks for reading! MDNI divider credit to @/cafekistune.
“Bruno! Another Aperol Spritz, please!” Sara slurs happily at the waiter.
He flashes her a thumbs up, disappearing into the other room towards the bar. Five of Sara’s bridesmaids, including you, the maid-of-honor, gather around the table, blitzed on either cocktails or Prosecco. You’re tipsy at best, purposefully holding back to take on the responsibility of making sure everything goes as planned tonight. As long as the bride has the time of her life and returns to the hotel in one piece, you’ll be happy.
Sara is the only one tonight wearing white, while the rest of you stun in little black dresses, sporting hot pink cowboy hats atop your heads and cowboy boots on your feet, celebrating the bride’s “last rodeo.” By the end of your meal, everyone in your party is giddy and ready for the next destination in your itinerary: the strip club, which is a few blocks away. You manage to pack the leftover breadsticks from dinner into your purse, anticipating that it will come in handy, especially when the drunken munchies start to hit. Together, the six of you parade the sidewalk, giggling and stumbling into the venue, beaming at the bouncer with goofy smiles as you display your IDs to him.
You’re sat at a table near the front of the stage, next to the runway. Next to you is Sara, who is swaying in her seat, resting her head on your shoulder, mumbling something about more alcohol. You pet her hair, knowing she needs water more than anything, so you ask one of the other less intoxicated girls to sit beside her, telling the rest of the group that you’ll grab drinks for everyone. With your bag, you go to the bar, taking the empty spot between another bachelorette party taking shots and a bespectacled blonde man in a tan suit, sipping on a glass of whiskey on the rocks.
The bartender, a beautiful brunette with soft brown eyes, nods at you before she helps the other patrons who were there first, so you wait patiently for her to return. The bridesmaid next to you, a feather boa around her neck, bumps into you by accident. She apologizes profusely, the potent smell of tequila wafting from her breath. You laugh, assuring her it’s alright and congratulating the bride. They offer you a shot, refusing, so instead they drape one of their fluffy scarves on your shoulders.
When they leave, the man to your other side chuckles, taking a swig of his liquor, smirking. “I’m surprised you didn’t take the free shot.”
You glance at him, taken aback by his handsome appearance. Slightly flustered, you focus your eyes on his uniquely spotted tie. “I’m taking care of another bride tonight, so I can’t get too wasted.”
He turns to face you completely now, and you can’t help scanning his physique, impressed by his stature, and of course, extremely good looks. “How responsible of you. Let me guess, you’re the maid-of-honor?”
This time, you meet his gaze, grinning with a shrug. “Guilty as charged.”
He reaches towards you, tipping the brim of your cowboy hat, getting a better view of your face. “And what’s the story behind this get-up?”
You laugh nervously, reluctant to explain. “It’s her last rodeo. You know, the last ride for the bride.” Heat rushes into your cheeks, already frazzled by his presence, now embarrassed about the clichés.
Amused, he hums. “Ah, I see. Clever.” He holds his hand out. “I’m Kento Nanami. Nice to meet you.”
You take it, introducing yourself. It’s obvious he’s here alone, and you wonder what someone like him is doing here at a male dance venue dressed like this, as if he came straight from the office. However, you’re not here to make assumptions about strangers, so you don’t question it.
The bartender finally approaches you, apologizing. “Sorry for the wait. It’s been really busy tonight.”
You wave it off, telling her it’s fine, ordering a few cocktails and a water. Before she starts on your order, she looks at Nanami. “Need anything else, Kento?” You’re curious about their relationship, which seems close given the first-name basis.
He twirls his drink, ice clinking in the glass. “If you have any food in there, that would be great.”
She pushes a container of maraschino cherries towards him. “You know we don’t. Here’s some healthy fruit to hold you over for the show.”
He snorts, “Thanks, Shoko.”
She makes the drinks in silence, leaving you alone with him once more. You set your purse on the counter, unzipping it to retrieve the pack of warm breadsticks from the Italian restaurant, sliding it to him. He looks at it, then at you, surprised.
“It’s your lucky day.”
Still in disbelief, he opens it slowly, inhaling the fragrant aroma of garlic and butter. He pulls one out, staring at it like he’s just discovered hidden treasure. “Am I dreaming right now?”
You beam at him. “This is totally real.”
He takes a bite, eyes fluttering. “This is heavenly. Are you sure I’m not dreaming?”
You giggle, watching him savor it. “I told you: it’s your lucky day.”
He takes another one, smiling. “It really is.” Wiping one side of his mouth with a napkin, he adds, “Not that it matters, but I’m curious. Why does a beautiful cowgirl like yourself have my favorite food in her purse?”
You try not to the let the subtle compliment faze you, though you’re not sure how good of a job you’re doing considering how hot your body is, especially your face. “I took it from the restaurant we had dinner at in case any of my friends need it for later.”
Halfway into the second breadstick, he comments, “You really are a good girl, aren’t you?”
Another comment that flusters you. Quickly, you pull yourself together. “I’m just trying to make sure everyone’s having a good time and won’t feel sick later.”
He finishes it off, licking the residual butter off his fingers. “Well, I won’t take all of it, then. You never know how the night will go, right?” He passes it to you, chugging the rest of his booze until there’s only ice left.
Shoko returns with your drinks, including a water for Sara. You hand her your card, expecting to pay, but Nanami interjects. “Shoko, put it on my tab.”
You gape at him. “You don’t have to – ”
“I want to. For the breadsticks,” he winks. He stands, grabbing two of your cocktails. “Can I help you bring these to your party?”
Stunned, and completely infatuated now, you nod without speaking, leading him to your table. Your friends ogle him when he serves them, probably smitten like you. You make one more trip for the remaining drinks, giving Sara the water, who reluctantly sips on it. “Thank you. I don’t know what I can do to make it up to you.”
“Just have a good time tonight, then we’ll call it even. I’ll see you later.” He waves goodbye to you and your friends, walking towards the rear of the club, for employees only.
Your curiosity peaks, though you don’t have time to ponder it because dance music begins blaring through the speakers, resulting in cheers from the audience. Sara hollers from her seat, drinking her water with a stack of bills in her hands, ready to toss at the dancers.
The emcee, a muscular older gentleman who calls himself “the Principal”, stands to the side of the stage, wearing an all-black suit and sports sunglasses. “Are you ladies ready for a special show tonight?”
Everyone applauds, excited for the performers to come out. “Let’s bring them out! Our first dancer is mysterious, sexy, and maybe just a little bit scary. A voice that can put any woman in a trance, and an even better body that will make anyone loyal to him, please give a big round of applause for…the Master!” A man with long, black hair draped on his back in a traditional Buddhist robe walks across the stage, smirking at the crowd with an alluring expression on his face. Many of the women scream for him, clearly already a favorite. He winks, resulting in louder shrieks.
“Next, class is in session! He’s got bright blue eyes that can peer into your soul and undress you in seconds. And when he’s not too busy doing that, he’s disciplining his very, very naughty students. Please welcome…the Professor!” This results in an overwhelming standing ovation, a couple of woman already tossing their bills towards him as an impressively tall and fit man with snow-white hair struts next to the Master, beaming towards the audience.
Two more dancers are introduced, leaving one left. “Last, and certainly not least. He’s wise, he’s good with money. Most of all, he hates work. But if it’s with a pretty coworker like you, he’ll work overtime to give you that good lovin’. Please give it up for…the Salary Man!”
To your shock, Nanami walks across, in the same exact outfit you saw him in earlier. When he takes his place at the end of the line, he glances at you, giving you a small wave. Sara whips around, shaking your shoulders. “He just waved at you!”
The entire show, you’re focused on Nanami, who graces the stage with smooth and fluid movements, hips thrusting into the air, booty popping in those tight slacks. At some point, each dancer starts to shed their clothing. He strips out of his jacket, tossing it towards your party where your friends catch it. Eventually, they reach the point of the show where each dancer performs a solo act. They step up and choose a woman in the audience who volunteers to be selected, usually a bride. You turn to Sara, asking her who her choice would be. She points to Nanami, whispering, “Definitely him.” A pang of jealously surrounds your chest, wishing you were posing as a bride tonight. It passes quickly, happy to live vicariously through your best friend.
After the first four strippers perform, Nanami’s turn comes. He steps forward in his half-buttoned dress shirt and unzipped slacks, teasing the black briefs he’s wearing beneath. Many women raise their hands, begging to be picked. Sara hoists both her arms, waving at him. He looks at her, then at you, back to her, holding his palm out to beckon her on stage. Suddenly, Sara shoves you, yelling, “She’s going up for me!”
The rest of the crowd cheers, coaxing you to get on. Nanami has a pleased grin on his face, waiting for you, almost like he expected this. You make your way slowly, stunned that this is really happening. As you stand before him, he pulls the feather boa off you slowly, letting it fall beside him on the floor, tipping your hat to see your face, like he did earlier at the bar. You can barely make out the Principal saying, “It seems our cowgirl has finally found her cowboy! Better take the proper position!”
Nanami’s voice is hot on your ear, low and soothing amidst the chaos surrounding you. “Can you lay down for me? I promise, I won’t touch you.”
You swallow hard, bending to lay flat on the stage, head towards the crowd. Nanami stands above you with you between his legs. You notice the outline of his cock in his pants and before you know it, you’re salivating profusely, pussy throbbing with arousal. The music starts, and soon, the familiar chorus plays: Promiscuous girl, wherever you are I’m all alone and it’s you that I want. Nanami trails down his chest, popping the rest of his buttons on his dress shirt, revealing his chiseled abs for everyone to gawk at.
The intense bass of the song and the shrieks of those watching pound your eardrums, and even with that as a distraction, all you can do is fixate on Nanami grinding his hips into the air, eyes never leaving yours. Soon, he’s kneeling over you, straddling your chest, still not touching. He rocks himself above you, moving with the beat of the music, bills raining you from the other women. Arms caging you in, he leans in, soothing voice in your ear again, whispering, “You can touch me, if you’d like.” He sits up, straddling you, running his fingers through his hair.
Without thinking, you act on instinct, hooking at the elastic of his briefs, tugging to snap it against his waist. The other dancers behind him whoop, encouraging you to keep going; you drift up to fondle his abs. Sara cheers the loudest from her seat, chucking the rest of her money at you and Nanami.
Unfortunately, the song fades out, ending the performance. There’s a standing ovation, more cash being thrown on stage. Nanami doesn’t seem to care as he removes himself from you, helping you on your feet. “Are you alright?”
Too mortified to meet his gaze, you look at the floor at all the bills scattered, nodding sheepishly. You’re not sure how you make it to your seat, Sara hugging you tightly, the other girls hollering for you. Your mind is still completely focused on Nanami, desperate for more.
The show ends and the emcee announces that the dancers will come out to greet the crowd. You have your face buried in your hands, embarrassed about the whole situation, despite your friends being thrilled about. Wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible, you gather everyone, ready to return to the hotel just a four blocks away. On your way towards the exit, someone grabs your wrist gently. You turn, surprised to be face Nanami, in his office attire. He murmurs your name, a blush in his cheeks, hair ruffled from his rousing performance. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
Snapping out of it, you reply, “Yes, I’m fine. Thank you for such a fun night.”
You expect him to let you go, but he doesn’t, holding your hand in his. “I don’t live far from here. Just down the street.” He reaches into his pocket, passing a business card to you. “Call me if you want. I’d really like to see you again, get to know you better.”
You take it, smiling at him. “We have to get to our hotel now. But thank you.”
He nods politely, dropping his grip, watching you leave out the door with the rest of your cowgirls.
~~~
It takes nearly two hours to get everyone settled for the night. Stomped on cowboy hats litter the floor of your hotel room. Whatever is left of the breadsticks gets consumed within minutes while the remaining snacks you’ve purchased throughout the trip are eaten without so much as a crumb left. You make sure everyone is hydrated with their own water bottles and help them unzip their little black dresses so that they can slip into their pajamas. Sara keeps babbling about how much fun she had, how hot all of the strippers were. She ends up leaving her soon-to-be husband a hilariously drunk voicemail reiterating her love for him.
It's a little past three in the morning, the rest of the girls sleeping soundly in the bed, your best friend snoring noisily. Nobody budges when you sneak out of the room in your black dress, rocking the cowboy hat and boots, following the directions to the address Nanami texted you after you messaged him first, asking if he’s still up. You don’t expect him to respond seconds later, convinced he’s asleep by now, so you’re more than excited to know that he’s awake, possibly waiting for you.
He meets you in the lobby of his apartment complex, dressed in grey sweatpants and a white undershirt. Even in his casual wear, you’re drawn to him. He looks you up and down, smirking when he sees you. “Howdy, cowgirl.”
You laugh, following him to the elevator heading up the fifth floor. His hands are stuffed in his pockets during the ride, keeping a safe distance from you. You tap your foot, the boots making a clicking noise on the tiled floor. You turn to him, inching a bit closer. “I hope I didn’t keep you up. It took a while to get everyone to bed.”
He faces you, eyes twinkling with kindness. “You’re a really good friend, taking care of them like that.” He pauses, stepping to the side, closing the distance, arms brushing now. “But who’s taking care of you?”
Deciding to be bold, you reply, “I was hoping you could take care of me tonight. If you’re okay with that.”
The doors split open, finally on the right floor. He reaches for you, lacing his fingers with yours, leading you into the hallway, rushing to his room. Once inside, he traps you against the door, caging you between his arms, looking at you with an intense expression. “You’re sure you want me to take care of you?”
You tug on his collar, pulling him in. “I’m positive.” He leans in kissing you softly on the lips, palm cupping your cheek. He breaks apart briefly to remove your hat, tossing it behind him, going in for more. You slip out of your shoes, following him into the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind you.
“Can you lay down for me, sweetheart?” He’s hot on your ear, exactly the way he said it on the stage just hours ago. You bite back a moan, so incredibly turned on while you get on the bed, lying flat on your back, anticipating. He rolls the hem of your dress up your thighs, enough so that you can spread them apart, exposing your panties to him, already damp with arousal.
“Wow,” he says, kissing the plush of your thighs. “You’re incredible.” He hooks the crotch of your panties to the side, pussy throbbing. He swears under his breath, readjusting himself so that he can stroke his cock through his pants, pressing a soft kiss to your clit. You squirm from the contact, moaning his name, his tongue licking circles around you. He doesn’t hold back, pushing himself deeper, lapping at your clit.
You clench the sheets beneath you, grinding on his face. He responds by eating you out sloppier, spitting thick wads of saliva to smear on your clit. “Fuck, you taste so good,” he groans, licking your cunt, collecting your slick on his tongue. “I want you to come on my face, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?”
Head thrown into the pillows, you whimper, “Yes,” reaching for his hair, feeling him thrash around, slobbering all over you until you climax, gushing into his mouth. He continues to flick your swollen bud with his tongue while you ride out your high, stopping only when you recoil from him, overstimulated. He surfaces, meeting your lips with his, messy with your arousal. You exchange a few more kisses before he strips his shirt off, followed by his pants. You almost gasp out loud at the impressive bulge in his briefs, palming it.
He nibbles on your ear lobe, rutting his erection against you, whispering, “Ride it, cowgirl. Ride me.”
Sliding out of your panties, you get into position, facing away while you straddle him, his grip on your ankles, adjusting you so you’re sat on his lap. You lift your ass, letting him guide his hard cock inside you, stretching you out gradually, inch-by-inch. “Fuck,” you hear him curse behind you, bottoming out. He slaps one of your cheeks, squeezing the flesh between his fingers. You bounce on him, ass jiggling with each pump of his cock, slutty moans pouring out of your mouth.
“Look at you go, fuck. You’re perfect. So perfect for me,” he purrs, guiding you up and down his dick.
He’s so deep, hitting that sweet spot with every thrust, your core tight with pleasure. Your tongue hangs out, drool leaking from the sides of your lips, eyes glazed over in bliss. You’re getting your brains fucked out of you and you find yourself blurting out every carnal desire crossing your mind. “Film me, Nanami. Want to see it.”
He gets even stiffer. “Yeah? You want to see how this fat ass swallows my cock up, huh? Better ride it harder, cowgirl.” Reaching for his phone, he holds it up, camera towards you. Before he records, he confirms one more time, “Are you sure you want this, sweetheart?”
You nod, whimpering, “Yes,” leaning down to grip the end of the bed, giving you more leverage to get fucked deeper.
“There you go. Keep fucking me,” he grunts, filming you now. “Use this cock to get yourself off. Let me take care of you, make you feel good.” His voice encouraging you pushes you closer to the edge, on the verge of another orgasm. You whine his name, moving faster.
“What is it, baby?” he coos, sweat beading on his forehead. “Are you going to come for me again?”
“Fuck yeah. Going to come on this cock,” you moan, rubbing your clit.
“Then do it. Give me all that fucking cum, sweetheart. Don’t hold back. Squirt on it. Cream all over it, oh fuck,” he growls, thrusting into you. “Can I come with you? Please, pretty girl? Can I breed you and make you mine?”
That does it. You orgasm, clutching him tight, pussy squeezing around him. Seconds later, he comes, filling you with his hot load, pumping his cock until he’s milked dry. He stays inside you for a bit, admiring the view before lifting your ass to pull out, watching his creamy mess leak out of you slowly, wet cock flopped against his abdomen. He stops the recording, running his fingers along his hair, damp with perspiration. “Come here,” he says, caressing one of your ankles tenderly, setting his phone on the nightstand.
You crawl to him, nuzzling your nose to his chest as he wraps you in his arms. It’s silent for a moment, neither of you sure of what to say next. He clears his throat, speaking first. “I hope you don’t think I do this often.”
You look at him, confused. “Do what?”
“Take women home from work. To do this.”
Smiling, you respond, “Even if you did, it wouldn’t matter to me.”
He hugs you tighter, kissing you on the forehead. “Still, I just wanted to make that clear.”
You trace the outline of his abs idly. “Well, in that case, I don’t do this often either.”
He chuckles, mimicking you now. “Do what?”
“Hook up with sexy dancers from the strip club.”
Another smooth, this time on the cheek. “It wouldn’t matter to me even if you did.”
You cuddle with each other for a while longer, reluctant to let go. Begrudgingly, you break away from him to check the time. “I should probably head back now.”
He nods. “Can I walk you there?”
“Sure.”
It’s a short trip back to the hotel, so you take your time, walking slowly, fingers laced together. “Is it a long flight home for you tomorrow?” he asks.
“We all actually live close-by, so we drove here together.”
He stops, pausing to look at you carefully. “You live around here?”
“Yes. And I work here in the city.”
His lips parts, sputtering nonsense before he responds, “I thought I’d have to say goodbye to you tonight.”
“Do you not want to?”
“No, I don’t. I’d like to see you again if that’s okay with you.”
You lean into him. “I’d like that too. I don’t go around giving my breadsticks to anyone, you know. Only the special ones.”
He chuckles, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close. “And I don’t go around giving my breadstick to just about anyone either.”
“Oh no,” you laugh, hiding your face. “Don’t tell me these are the kind of jokes you make.”
“Unfortunately, it is. And now, you’re stuck with them.”
You hug him around the waist, gazing at him lovingly. “Lucky me.”
He smiles at you. “Me too.”
#nanami smut#nanami x you#nanami x reader#kento nanami#nanami#nanami kento#kento nanami smut#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#nanami kento smut#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento fluff#kento nanami fluff#nanami fluff#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#y2k karaoke party#milestone event
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This is for your y2k!
“Photograph” by Ed Sheeran for Toji Fushiguro - angst
We keep this love in a photograph, we made these memories for ourselves.
Read Part Two - Make You Feel My Love
Pairing: Toji x f!reader
Word Count: ~3.1k
cw: implied family abuse, angst, some fluff, modern day-au, no curses au, a kiss, time skip
Summary: Toji Zenin is scary; he’s the most intimidating boy in your class. When you’re paired with him for a group project, you’re nervous that he’s as bad as he seems. However, you learn that behind that hard exterior is a person yearning just to be normal.
Author’s Note: The first story for the y2k karaoke party! Inspired by “Photograph” by Ed Sheeran. Thank you @gojoshooter for submitting this song/request! I hope you like this one! Divider created by @/cafekitsune.
You meet Toji in high school, when you’re paired up randomly for a project during your last semester of senior year. He’s a transfer student, having just joined a month ago, introducing himself briefly with a scowl on his face, uninterested in anything. Aside from his obvious stature, the evident scar running across his mouth stands out. Most of your peers avoid him, intimidated by his overwhelming presence. He’s bigger than everyone else, both in height and muscle; he looks like someone you don’t want to mess with. Even teachers do their best to evade him, leaving him to his own devices in the back corner of the classroom. At least he isn’t disruptive; most of the time, he keeps to himself.
Of course, in a school as small as yours, gossip spreads like wildfire. They say he comes from a prominent family, the “Zenin’s”. You’ve never heard of them; apparently, they are notoriously elitist and filthy rich. So, it surprises you that a son of the Zenin clan would attend a public school like yours rather than a private institution. Maybe he’s different.
Everyone dreads group projects, let alone randomly assigned group projects. Everyone is on pins and needles, waiting to hear who their partner is. When your name follows his, your heart sinks into your belly. Sighs of relief wash over the rest of your classmates, thankful that they aren’t you. Taking a deep breath, you get up from your seat, slowly walking towards him. When you’re by his desk, he doesn’t look up. You clear your throat to say, “Hello. I guess we’re partners for this project.”
He scoffs, twirling a pen between his fingers, brows furrowed, irritated already. “Great,” he mutters, sarcastically.
Okay, maybe he’s not different.
~~~
Your teacher calls this project “A Week in the Life”. Basically, you’re tasked to capture your partner’s daily routines throughout the week in the form of photographs. Each student is given a disposable camera, loaded and ready to use. Once developed, you’re supposed to put them together into a collage, decorating it however you desire. A short essay is also required, describing what you will learn about the other person after spending this time with them. You have an entire month to complete everything. Weekdays are repetitive, considering most of the day you’re in school; it’s the afternoons, nights, and weekends that set each person apart from the other.
“I’m not inviting you into my house,” Toji says, crossing his arms over his chest.
“But that’s part of the project. I’m supposed to see what you do on a daily basis.” You resist the urge to sound equally as annoyed, not wanting to start off on the wrong foot.
He glares at you, hunched over his desk. “I avoid going home as much as possible. That’s what I usually do.”
You swallow hard, unsure how to respond. Eventually, you murmur, “Well then, you can do me first. We’ll just figure yours out later.”
He shrugs, unenthused. “Whatever.”
You pull your phone out of your pocket, sliding it towards him. “Let’s exchange numbers so we can coordinate our schedules. We can start next week.” He doesn’t argue, pushing his cell to you to do the same.
As planned, the following Monday, Toji begins taking random photos of you during the school day. It starts off in class when he captures you working at your desk. Other students are doing the same, so it isn’t as awkward as you expect it to be. Still, it feels odd being watched by Toji through the lens of the camera.
At lunchtime, he sits with you and your friends in the cafeteria, his big body smushed next to yours as you munch on your meal. You notice that he hasn’t brought anything to eat except for a protein bar and sports drink. Not thinking anything of it, you split your egg salad sandwich into two triangles, handing him one. He glances at it, then at you, confused. “What?”
“Eat it.”
He makes a face, taking it reluctantly, having the audacity to sniff it before taking a bite. When he doesn’t say anything, expression relaxing, you smile to yourself, satisfied. It’s gone two bites later, and from your peripheral, you see him lick the excess off his thumb. Mouth still full, he mumbles a brisk, “Thanks,” snapping his drink open to take a swig.
After school, you attend a book club meeting that’s hosted every Monday by your friend. Toji snaps a photo of you and your group posing with your book for this month. Before you leave for dinner, a few of the girls whisper to you about how hot he is, how lucky you are to be paired up with such a hunk. How scary he comes off with his scowls and glares. They’re so loud, you’re certain he can hear, but he doesn’t mention anything about it. That is, until you’re alone with him, walking home together.
“So, do you think I’m scary?” He has his hands in his pockets, looking down at the ground where he walks besides you.
The question catches you off guard. “Huh?”
“Do you think I’m scary?” he repeats, looking at you now, smirking.
You grin. “Maybe a little bit at first. Not so much anymore.”
“What changed?”
“I saw you inhale that sandwich. The tough guy act disappeared in that moment.”
“Hey, that thing was tiny. I could have swallowed it in one bite,” he chuckles, kicking a pebble on the ground. “And I’m not putting on a tough guy act. This is just who I am.”
You giggle softly, smiling at him. “Well, I’m looking forward to getting to know you better, Zenin.”
“Toji. Call me Toji.”
~~~
Dinner with your parents goes by smoothly. You’ve prepared them for this special visitor, urging them to be on their best behavior and not judge a book by his cover. Naturally, your mother is startled when his big frame enters through the doorway, but when he bows to her, introducing himself respectfully, she eases up. After a quick tour of your house, Toji snaps shots of you helping your parents in the kitchen. With the whole spread laid out on the table, he takes another photo before you all gather around to eat.
Much like earlier in the day, Toji scarfs his meal, mumbling out compliments to the chef. Your parents are thrilled, dropping more servings onto his plate, watching with pride as their cooking is devoured. You can’t help wanting to capture this memory, so you retrieve your own disposable camera from your backpack, taking his picture. He doesn’t seem to mind.
The two of you eat ice cream sandwiches in your backyard while your parents wash the dishes. The sun is setting, beautiful golden streaks shining from the horizon. Your classmate takes a candid of you sitting on the patio chair, staring at the last moments of daylight. “Do your parents cook like that every day?” he asks, finishing off the last of his dessert.
“Nah, they just wanted to impress you.”
“Well, I am thoroughly impressed. That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”
After just one day with him, you feel comfortable enough to ask, hoping that it isn’t crossing the line. “Do you dislike eating at home?”
He doesn’t respond right away, thinking of his answer carefully. “Yeah, I do.”
“Why?”
He smirks, running his thumb along the scar on his lips. “Dinners at my house don’t always end in dessert, if you know what I mean.”
Your jaw drops, unable to contain your reaction. “You’re saying…”
He leans back into his seat. “Yup. Got a knife thrown at me.”
“What?!”
Laughing, he nods. “After that, I didn’t like having dinners there.”
You’re tempted to ask for the whole story, but you know it’s pushing it. Instead, you offer, “Well, you’re always welcome here.”
It’s a simple comment. To you, it’s nothing. Maybe it’s because you’re used to offering kindness to others; it’s what you were raised to do. It’s what the people around you do. It’s common. Second-nature, really.
But as Toji stares at you, wearing an expression you’ve never seen before, one of genuine gratefulness, you realize that to him, it’s not nothing. It’s special.
Throughout the remainder of the week, Toji spends practically his whole day with you, morning, noon, and night. During this time, you learn that his family is wealthy, though he chose to attend this school on his own will, just to spite them. He considers himself an outcast, the black sheep of the Zenin clan, so much so that he even refuses to associate himself with the family name. And while he’s sure he’s better off away from the snooty rich kids of the school he would have attended, his intimidating appearance and less-than-friendly attitude has made him an outcast amongst your peers. You feel guilty being part of the problem, judging him before getting to know him. He’s actually easy to talk to. It helps that he’s an open book about his personal life.
Saturday, you plan to go to the aquarium with your family, inviting him to tag along for the project (and for fun). Toji is at your doorstep right on time, dressed in a tight black tee shirt and grey sweatpants, accentuating his chiseled figure. There’s no denying it; he’s very attractive. You’d be lying to yourself if you said it hasn’t crossed your mind. But Toji doesn’t need people to be attracted to him; he needs a friend. And that’s what you’ll be to him.
It’s a fun day, observing all the fish and aquatic creatures swimming in their tanks. He takes pictures whenever it’s appropriate, covering the flash with his finger as to not disturb any of the animals inside. You eat lunch together in the cafeteria, Toji offering to pay for it as thanks for all the kindness he was shown this week. Near closing time, you take one last stroll through the jellyfish section, marveling at the wonderfully bizarre invertebrates floating in the water.
“I’ve never been to an aquarium before,” he admits, quietly admiring them beside you. His eyes twinkle with the glow of the iridescent jellyfish swimming in front of him.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
You nudge him playfully. “So, what do you think?”
He smiles, rubbing the spot on his arm that you touched. “Better than I expected.”
~~~
The following week is his turn. The closest you get to his mansion of a home is on the outside, not even through the gates.
“This is for your own good,” he warns, throwing a twig aggressively between the spaces of the iron bars.
You snap a quick photo with your disposable, not questioning it. When you’re finished, he smirks. “So, ready for some real fun?”
Toji spends his days after school at various locations. Basically everywhere except his own home. The public library, the gym, arcades, shopping malls, cafés, you name it. He’ll eat dinner at whatever restaurant his stomach fancies at the moment: Ramen, Takoyaki, steak, even instant ramen, depending on his mood. And while his life seems fun from the outside, like a kid in a candy store, it’s lonely. Except for when he’s with you.
Saturday is different from the other days. On the weekends, he goes to the beach, bag packed with his favorite books and snacks, ready to relax on the sand with the waves crashing against the shore. He sets up a large umbrella to cover both of you as you settle into the big blanket laid flat. He passes you one of his books, a volume of his favorite manga. The two of you read in a comfortable silence, sharing a bag of chips, fingers brushing against each other’s whenever you reach at the same time.
Out of the blue, he comments, “This is nice. It’s normal.”
Laughing, you reply, “What do you mean?”
He sets his book down, looking at you. “Nothing about my family is normal. It’s just nice to feel like a human instead of a failure.”
Your eyes widen, uncertain how to respond. Before you can say anything, he murmurs, “Sorry. I didn’t meant to kill the mood.”
You close the manga, smiling gently at him. “Don’t be. I can’t imagine what it’s like. My life is very normal.”
“That’s what I like about you, though.”
Heat rushes into your cheeks at his statement, and maybe it’s your imagination, but you see him blush. You’ve taken enough pictures to complete your project, but there’s still a bit of film left. “Let’s take a picture together,” you suggest, holding the camera in your hand, trying to lighten the mood.
“Seriously? Why?”
“To celebrate being normal, even if it just for a day.”
He grins, scooting closer to you. “Okay.”
You lean against him, both of you smiling, capturing the moment with the click of your finger.
~~~
Toji doesn’t stop eating lunch with you. Even with your photos at the lab, being developed, he remains by your side, eating the extra sandwich you always pack for him now. Occasionally, he’ll stop by for dinner, always welcomed by your parents. On the other days, you accompany him to whatever restaurant he’s craving.
When the photos are complete, you pick them up together, not wanting to share them yet, hoping to be surprised on the day they’re displayed in the classroom. At home, you compile the pictures into a stylish collage, decorating the borders with fun stickers, smiling as you gaze at each photo of him. One at the arcade, holding a toy guy in his hands with the high score flashing in the background. Another at the gym, where’s he’s kicking a punching bag, making it look far too easy. Finally, there’s the last photo you took at the beach, the two of you posing for the camera. It’s a cute picture, one that shows two people who live very different lives happily enjoying their time together. You tape it right in the middle.
When everyone’s posters are hung around the classroom, many people flock to Toji’s, desperate for a glimpse in his mysterious life. Many gawk at the mansion behind the gates, unaware of the dark secrets it holds. The girls ogle the gym picture, while the boys admire it, asking for workout tips. Toji looks pleased with how his collage turns out, especially intrigued by the photo in the center. “You included the one of us, huh?”
“It’s too cute, isn’t it? I had to include it.”
He smiles at you. “I totally agree.”
He walks you home that afternoon, a usual part of his routine now. Curious, you ask, “So, what did you write about me for your essay?”
“I wrote about how nerdy you are, going to class and willingly going to clubs after school. For fun,” he emphasizes, rolling his eyes, teasing you.
You poke his arm playfully. “And…?”
“I said that you and your family are really nice. And that your parents should be chefs,” he adds, grinning.
You laugh, hooking your arm around his. “That’s more like it.”
Before you know it, you’re at one of the parks he frequents, sitting side-by-side at his favorite bench. “What did you say? About me?” he asks, staring at his hands in his lap.
Without thinking, you rest your head on his shoulder. “That you’re not actually scary. You’re just you. And who you are is pretty great. Really great, actually.”
There’s a pause while he processes what you said. Afraid that it’s too far, you attempt to back away from him, but he catches you first, pulling you in for a kiss. It’s hesitant, like he’s unsure if this is okay. And when you place your hand on his chest, feeling his quickening heartbeat race against your fingertips, the kiss deepens, his lips parting open to slide his tongue inside your mouth. Before it gets any further, he pulls off quickly. Electricity hangs in the air, buzzing on your lips, tingling on every inch of your skin.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize, throat heavy. “I shouldn’t have done that. I just thought – ”
“You’re right. You shouldn’t have,” he spits out, jaw clenched, avoiding your gaze. It’s a harsh voice you haven’t heard the entire time since the start of your friendship.
“But I thought you liked – ”
“You’re wrong. I don’t. I – ,” he swallows, struggling to get the words out. “And I never will.” He stands up, turning his back towards you, leaving you alone with tears streaming down your face, embarrassed, confused, and heartbroken.
It’s the last time you’ll see of him. He doesn’t come back to class after that incident. Rumor has it that he came in early the next morning to gather all his belongings, which wasn’t much to begin with. There’s more gossip about it, of course, ridiculous chatter. Eventually, they fade, and his name is no longer uttered by anyone, including you. Months pass, and gradually, new memories overtake the old ones. Life goes on without him. You don’t notice the center photo of your collage is gone until you collect it at the end of the schoolyear.
He’ll never tell you that it’s for your own good. That turning his back on you is the best option to keep you safe. No matter how much he opens up to you, his reality is much worse than you can ever know. Hurting you is his way of protecting you. Because loving you is too dangerous, especially for someone like him.
~~~
Ten years later, you’re an elementary school teacher in your hometown. You planted yourself right where your roots grew. There is nothing but grand memories in this place you’re lucky to call your home. The only exception is the abandoned plot of land where the Zenin mansion was demolished a few years ago without any explanation. You preserve its memory in the form of a tattered photograph, forgotten somewhere in your closet.
Today, there’s a new student transferring into your kindergarten class; an adorable little boy with jet black hair and long eyelashes named Megumi. He reminds you of someone from your past, someone you kept buried in the back of your mind a while ago, for your own sanity.
Little do you know that on the other side of the door, Toji Fushiguro leans against the wall, listening carefully to your familiar voice introducing yourself to his son. He smiles to himself, the month you shared together all those years ago fondly replaying in fast forward in his mind. He’s no longer a Zenin, unleashed from the cruelty of his ancestry, liberated from the life he was cursed with from birth. Free to love who he wants without fearing that their life is in danger by the hands of his wretched family.
He sticks his hands in his pocket, fingers brushing along the corners of the withered photo of the two of you smiling at the beach. With a deep breath, he grips the handle of the door, finally ready to face you at long last.
#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#toji x you#toji x y/n#toji zenin#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji#jjk toji#toji angst#jjk angst#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#y2k karaoke party#milestone event
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Could you possibly do: Promiscuous by Nelly Furtado for Jean Kirstein - Smut (stg he needs more love on this app)
Promiscuous
Pairing: Jean x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~2.7k
cw: frenemies-to-lovers trope, one bed (in this case, tent) trope, modern day au, explicit language, smut – mutual masturbation, fingering, hand job
Summary: During your annual camping trip with your friends, you find out a little too late that the tent you brought with you is broken. With everyone’s already occupied, you’re forced to share one with Jean, who you don’t exactly get along with. Maybe sharing a small space together for one night will change that.
Author’s Note: Hi anon! Thank you for your request for the y2k karaoke party! This idea is somewhat inspired by my main man AugustInTheWinter’s “Trapped in Your Asshole Friend’s Tent” (reddit link, +18) except mine is more of a teaser if anything, since there’s no actual sex, hehe. I hope you like this one! I don’t write for Jean often, but when I do, I always have so much fun! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated! Thank you for reading! MDNI banner by @/mikeykuns.
Your tent is busted, and of course you only find out about it as you unpack it on the campsite, finding it torn up and unusable. You turn to Sasha, panicking. “It’s broken!”
She kneels down to inspect it, looking at all the parts. “There’s nothing you can do to fix it?”
“Everything is in pieces. It’s completely useless. Do you have room in your tent?”
She shakes her head. “I’m sleeping in Connie’s. And Mikasa, Armin, and Eren are squeezing into one. Which leaves only Jean – ”
“No,” you say with emphasis. “No way.”
Sasha rolls her eyes. “Come on. You’re only in there for a few hours each night, that’s it! Set your differences aside for once! Unless you want to sleep out in the cold.”
“I think I’d rather freeze to death and get eaten by a bear than share a tent with him,” you state, crossing your arms over your chest.
She chuckles, taking a bite out of a baked potato she has stored in her pocket. “Fine. I’ll be sure to write that in your obituary.” She walks away from you, joining Connie by their tent, helping him set it up while you stand there, defiant, and all-too-stubborn. You look over to their right to see the EMA trio working together to assemble their big tent, but still not big enough to house a fourth person. Then, on the other side, furthest away from the others, is Jean.
You seriously weigh your options, eventually deciding that death by the elements is worse by the tiniest margin than sleeping next to Jean. So you walk up to him, tapping on the thin fabric, pretending to knock. “Kirstein,” you call out when there’s no answer.
He unzips the entrance, glaring at you. “What do you want?”
You clear your throat, putting on the nicest voice you can possibly muster. “Do you have room for me in there?” You even bat your eyelashes, feeling more pathetic that you already do.
“What?!” he snaps, standing up to confront you.
“My tent is broken and there’s no room in the other’s, so…”
“Fuck no,” he states, a little harsher than usual.
“C’mon, Kirstein! It’s just for two nights!”
“Then sleep outside.”
“I promise I’ll be good!” you whine, putting your hands together in prayer, pleading. “You won’t even know I’m here.”
“Oh, I’ll definitely know you’re here,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose, irritated. He yells out across the way. “Sash, Connie! There’s really no room in there for her?”
Connie answers, “Nope!”
“Mikasa, how about in your – ”
“No,” she responds immediately, the other two boys shaking their heads to confirm.
Jean groans, scratching his head anxiously, as if this is the worst thing he’s ever had to consider. Eventually, he mutters a contemptuous, “Fine. But we’re not sharing sleeping bags.”
“I never said anything about sleeping bags!” you protest.
“I’m just saying!”
Not wanting to argue more, you ease up. “Okay, okay. Thank you. Seriously, Kirstein. I really do appreciate it.” You attempt to give him the most genuine smile you can manage. All he does is roll his eyes, zipping the entrance closed.
The rest of the day goes by smoothly. After setting up camp, you all go for an easy hike on a nearby trail. Jean doesn’t interact with you, which is typical behavior from him. You can’t pinpoint the exact reason why he dislikes you so much; it didn’t start this way when you first met him several years ago through Sasha. But the more you hung out with them, the colder he’s gotten towards you. Because of this, you decided to act the same towards him, causing this hostile relationship between you two. Maybe sharing a tent tonight is a good opportunity to let bygones be bygones and finally get along.
Back at camp, you gather around the fire to roast hot dogs for dinner. Jean sits across from you, a serious expression on his face as he focuses on cooking his meal. You study him, watching the flames reflect in his eyes. He’s handsome, that’s for sure; sharp jawline, luscious brown locks on his head, an impressive stature. If he wasn’t such an asshole, you could see yourself being friendly with him, maybe even more. The thought makes you smile to yourself. He meets your gaze for a brief moment, startling you. You quickly turn your head to the side, pretending to be interested in the dirt on the ground, hoping he didn’t catch you staring.
By midnight, with your bellies nourished with a hot dogs, potato chips, and s’mores for dessert, you all decide to call it a night. Armin and Eren put out the fire while the rest of you do a thorough job disposing any trash and putting away any of the remaining food. Everyone gets ready for bed in their designated spots around the wilderness. You especially take your time, wanting to stall as much as possible so you don’t have to interact with your tent-mate.
Eventually, you’re the only one left outside and there’s nothing left for you to do but head in. As you walk into the tent, you quietly step inside, noticing Jean already curled in his sleeping bag to the farthest side he can reach, leaving plenty of space for you. He’s wrapped in an additional blanket, head resting on a fluffy pillow, expression the most relaxed you’ve ever seen. You grin, appreciating how cute he looks like this.
You nestle into your sleeping bag, adjusting your pillow before you find a comfortable position to sleep in. Even with it zipped up and surrounding you, it’s still chilly enough that your teeth chatter. Holding yourself tightly, you rub your arms, hoping to create enough friction to warm yourself up.
From the other side, you hear Jean’s familiar groan, then shuffling. Suddenly, you feel something thick envelop you. You crane your neck to see Jean near you now, his blanket covering you both. He faces you with that scowl on his face, eyes closed. “I’m only sharing so that you don’t keep me up all night,” he says.
You roll over to turn your body towards him, closer than you’ve ever been before. “Thank you,” you murmur, snuggling into your pillow.
He doesn’t say anything else, probably drifting off to sleep by now. Although you’re warm enough, you still can’t fall into a slumber the way you want. Not with Jean so near you, pretty eyelashes fluttering, soft lips parted slightly; he is really handsome. Your chest swells, heat rushes into your cheeks. As quietly as you can, praying that he’s actually asleep, you whisper, “I’m sorry, Jean. For whatever I did to make you hate me so much.” You say it more for yourself if anything. Even if he can’t hear you, at least you’ve put it out there for the universe.
“I don’t hate you.” It startles you when he says it in a low, gruff voice, eyes still closed.
You swallow hard, not sure if you should continue this conversation, or let it end here. Not wanting to waste this opportunity, you decide to respond. “You don’t?”
This time, he opens his eyes slowly, blinking at you. “No. You’re annoying, irritating, always completely unprepared. But I don’t hate you.”
“Gee, thanks,” you mutter, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself. “Sorry for always being such a nuisance to you. I’ll be sure to leave you alone now.”
He sighs. “You’re not always a nuisance, okay? And besides, you’re the one who acts like you hate me.”
“I only do that because you did it to me first,” you argue. “I don’t even know what I did to annoy you in the first place. Tell me.”
“If I start now, we’ll be up all night,” he smirks, looking smug.
“Seriously, what did I ever do to you? I need to know so I can apologize formally.”
He stares at you, contemplating his answer. You wait with anticipation, nervous for what he’s about to say. Eventually, he admits, “You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?”
More confused now, you ask, “Then why do you treat me like I did?”
He sighs again, this time even deeper. “I don’t know.”
You scoot closer to him instinctually, studying his face as if that will give you a clearer answer. “You don’t know?”
He’s caught off guard by the closing distance between you. “I don’t know,” he repeats, stammering. “I just…”
Closer now, your nose mere inches from his, the heat radiating from his body towards you. “Just what?”
He gulps loudly before leaning forward, pressing his lips to yours in a delicate kiss. You don’t immediately pull back, indulging in the intimate touch until his tongue slips into your mouth. It shocks you, not because you don’t like it, but because of how much you do. You break apart, catching your breath. “What are you…” you trail off, fixated on his lips, slightly shiny now from your spit.
He unzips his sleeping bag, freeing his hands to reach for you, caressing your cheek. “If you don’t like it, tell me now and I’ll stop.” His thumb brushes against your skin, electrifying every nerve in your body.
You wiggle out of your confines to touch him too, placing your hands on hands on his chest, clenching his t-shirt in your fists. Something comes over you. Curiosity, lust, temptation, you’re not quite sure. All you know is that you want to keep kissing him, keep touching him, and save the explaining for later. It doesn’t have to make sense right now; all you want is to feel good.
“Don’t stop,” you whisper, pulling him in for a kiss. It’s sloppier this time, his tongue flicking against yours, eager for a taste of you. His hand travels down your body, sliding around your waist beneath your pajama top. It ignites your skin, forgetting any ounce of coldness that occupied your body just moments before.
“On top,” he huffs, fingers digging into your flesh. “Get on top of me.”
You obey, spreading his sleeping bag open, seeing the prominent bulge protruding from his sweats. You straddle his lap, grinding yourself on him, rubbing your clothed pussy along his shaft. He grips your waist with both his hands, watching you rock against him, biting his lip with a crazed look in his eyes. “Fuck,” he breathes out, brows furrowed in concentration, sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. If you had known it would be like this, maybe the two of you wouldn’t have wasted so much time berating each other. You could have spent the last few years doing this instead.
You lean down, kissing him passionately while you continue to ride him with your clothes on. He’s unbelievably hard beneath you now, his big cock straining against the fabric. Your arousal leaks into your panties, wet and ready for him. His hands glide to your bottom, squeezing your cheeks in his hands. Soon, his fingers are hooked on your waistband, tugging them down your thighs, coaxing you to strip. You hop off him, rolling to his side to properly remove your pants, him doing the same next to you. Both of you are naked from the waist down now, lying beside each other. You reach between your legs, rubbing your fingers on your clit. He watches, fist wrapped around his cock, stroking it feverishly. “I didn’t know you were like this,” he whispers, biting his lip to hold back his moans. “Fuck, if I had known I…I would have – ”
“What, Jean? What would you have done?” you ask, playing with yourself faster, watching him jerk himself off.
“I would have fucked you so much sooner. Make you my slut.”
“You want to slut me out? Is that what you want?”
“Yeah. But only for me. I only want you to be a slut for me.”
You reach for him with your wet fingers, replacing his hand with yours, stroking him slowly. He moans, eyes blown wide at the sight. “Come here,” he beckons, stretching his hand towards your pussy. “I want to make you feel good too.”
Kneeling beside him, you guide him to you, teasing your clit with his palm. “God, you’re so fucking wet. Can I fuck you with these fingers, baby?”
The pet name is unexpected from his mouth, but it spurs you on. You nod, lifting up slightly to sink down on his middle finger while his thumb nudges your clit. A moan escapes you, unable to keep quiet. He chuckles softly, shushing you. “You don’t want the others to know you’re getting finger-fucked by me, do you? You better be quiet.”
You stay like this, Jean’s fingers pumping in and out of your cunt while he fucks your fist. Aching for a new position, you release him, pulling him out of you so that you can straddle his lap again, this time completely nude.
He stammers, clearly nervous. “Oh fuck, should we…?”
There is no lube, nor are there any condoms around you. It would be a bad idea to have sex under these conditions, though temptation is testing you, especially with how far you’ve already gotten. As badly as you want to be fucked, you decide not to. “Not tonight. But that doesn’t mean we can’t feel good, right?” You flick the tip of his cock on your clit, your core tight with pleasure from the intimate contact.
He relaxes into his sleeping bag, watching you with a dazed expression on his face, moaning as you grind your pussy along his shaft, hand nestled underneath his cock, stroking him simultaneously. “Fuck, you really know what you’re doing, huh?”
“Is that bad?” you ask, slowing your pace.
He smiles, shaking his head. “Not at all. I just didn’t expect you to be so promiscuous.” He reaches towards you, massaging your clit with his thumb.
You whine from his touch, rocking back and forth on his shaft, almost inclined to sink down on his cock anyways. “Maybe I’m only like this with you.”
He continues to grin at you, caressing your sensitive bud faster. “Yeah, maybe you are.”
You stay like this until his cock pulsates beneath you, shooting spurts of cum onto his stomach. Soon, you’re coming too with his thumb pressed tightly on your clit, rubbing deep into you, gushing all over him. When you’re done riding out your orgasm, you roll off of him, back into your own sleeping bag. Jean stays flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling of his tent, his breathing gradually returning to a steady pace. The two of you remain silent, equally confused and thrilled about what just occurred.
You decide to be the one to speak first. “So…”
He turns to you, a kind expression on his face. Have you ever seen this on him before? It puts a flutter in your belly. “So,” he repeats.
“Should we talk about it?”
“What’s there to talk about?” He scoots closer to you, holding your hand in his.
“This. Us,” you say, interlocking your fingers with his. Who would have though being this way with Jean Kirstein would feel so…natural?
“Right. Us.” He nuzzles his nose to yours. “The truth is, I’ve been a massive asshole to you because I’m an idiot who doesn’t know how to express his feelings.”
“So, instead, you act like you hate me?”
He points to himself, giving you a goofy grin. “See? Idiot.”
You sigh, squeezing him tighter. “So, you actually like me?”
Smiling, he kisses your cheek. “I do. I’ve liked you for a while. If you give me a chance, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. If you let me.”
You don’t respond right away, contemplating the situation. Could it really work out between you two after all the petty arguments, snide remarks, contemptuous glares? It is comfortable, being with him like this. It’s better than you ever imagined.
You snuggle into his chest, surrounding yourself in his warmth and security. “I guess we could give it a shot.”
“Yeah?” He tips your chin up to meet your gaze, smiling big.
“Yeah.”
He brings you towards him to kiss you sweetly, cradling you in his arms. “Thank you.”
You pull away, smirking at him before you whisper, “And next time, you’re going to slut me out properly, right?”
He laughs quietly, biting his lip. “Absolutely.”
#jean kirstein#jean kirschstein#jean kirschtein smut#jean kirstein smut#jean kirstein x reader#jean kirstein x you#jean kirschstein x reader#jean kirschstein smut#aot smut#attack on titan smut#y2k karaoke party#milestone event
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