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skzdarlings · 2 months

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mine ; lee minho x reader

original ask: requested by @tattywood. “Can you please do ❛ you're mine. you've always been mine. ❜ with Lee Know? I just know you’ll come up with something amazing! 🩶"

pairing: lee minho/reader content info: another pair of star-crossed lovers lol. reader is kissed by a different guy without her permission. possessive sex. unsafe sex. lots of biting and marking and grabbing. word count: 3700 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

You finally escape.

When the date is over and your supposed boyfriend leaves, you run out the back door. Your parents are distracted, waving goodbye to your boyfriend as he pulls away in his expensive car. They chat between themselves on the front porch of the family estate.

“Such a remarkable young man,” they say. “So wholesome. So intelligent.“

So rich, is what they really mean. Because he is not wholesome; he is a bully and a bigot at the best of times. He derides anyone he deems beneath him, which is just about everyone. He is also not intelligent, as true depth of intellect is revealed in conduct. Someone that cruel and ignorant is not intelligent. You have engaged in more stimulating discourse with birds.

But he is wealthy. Your parents picked him for you and have been forcing the relationship along, contriving dates without telling you he will be there, inviting him into your home, encouraging his empty and shallow affection. You encourage nothing, sitting stiffly whenever he touches you: an arm slung around your waist, a hand on your lower back, a kiss on the cheek.

Maybe you were naïve to think it would not escalate before its time, that you could bear it cordially until his interest withered and died. Foolish. He is not here for you but your name. He does not care how you feel. He does not care if you want him. He wants the money and connections and power, sharing a bed with your parents through you.

Today he cornered you when you were alone. He backed you into the wall and kissed you. An unwanted kiss is a disgustingly slimy thing, all tongue and teeth and the bad, unfamiliar taste of a vile man’s breath.

Your whole unlived life flashed in your mind’s eye. Every second was irredeemably awful.

So you run. Out the back door, to the garage, weaving around your father’s cars. Your old bike is hooked on its rack and you lift it down with some grunting effort. You are dressed for a date, wearing a pristine ivory dress your mother picked, white lace stockings, and delicate flats. It is not the ideal outfit for riding a bike. It is a pretty but flimsy thing. Summer nights are warm but there is a crisp breath on the wind as the sun sets.

But if you stop for even a second, even just to change clothes, even just to catch your breath, then you will never get away.

You swing onto your bike and escape via the back lane. It is a long ride across town but your adrenaline propels you onward.

It is very obvious when you have crossed into new territory. Across the park trail and over the railroad tracks is a different world. The houses get smaller, more ramshackle, junk piled around the fully abandoned abodes. Even the lived-in homes have old trucks and rusted goods stacked on their lawns. It is a consequence of impoverished anxiety, hoarding in fear of one day having nothing.

Indeed, a very different part of town.

Your parents are probably furious they cannot find you, but they will assume you ran to a nearby friend’s house. If they knew where you really were, which friend you went to see, they would surpass furious and venture all the way into horror.

But they are far away now.

You feel nothing but relief as the air changes. You know it is the chill of a summer night as the sky turns blue, but it convinces you the air is clearer. You exhale and feel as though you are releasing a breath that you have been holding all day.

Your journey takes you to a familiar yard. You remember the first time you ever visited, standing so small and uncertain on the front steps, waiting for a kiss you actually wanted.

A kiss that never came.

You park your bike against the side of the house. You walk up the front steps on shaky legs, weak from speedy riding.

You open the screen door to knock on the inside door. While you wait for an answer, you fiddle with your appearance, adjusting any evidence of wind-swept dishevelment.

Oh, you are so nervous. You were so hellbent on just getting here, you did not register any feeling beyond determination. But now you are standing on this porch in your flimsy white dress, the sun set, the day done. You are doing something you should have done a long, long time ago and suddenly fearing you are far, far too late.

No answer comes. You knock again.

Your stomach forms a pit you hope you will eat you whole. Is he ignoring you? No. The windows are shut, the blinds closed. He cannot even see you.

You take a step back. Even with everything sealed shut, you should be able to see a hint of light. The house is small, a single story. There are only so many places he could be.

He isn’t home, you realize, first with relief that he is not ignoring you, then with dejection. Of course he’s not home, you tell yourself. What were you even thinking? Silly girl. Riding all the way out here, expecting him to be sitting around and waiting for you. He has a life of his own. He probably doesn’t even think about you. You’re pathetic.

You know you are being a little melodramatic. Your emotions have been running at an extreme all day. They finally become too much to bear. You sit down on the steps and cry.

Some time passes. You eventually calm yourself enough to wipe your eyes. You feel the cold more acutely now, wrapping your arms around yourself for warmth.

You are not sure what to do now. You refuse to go home, knowing what awaits you. You have nowhere else to go. Your future is murky, which is still more comforting than the vision of it when your boyfriend forcibly kissed you.

You sigh. You know if you wait long enough, your friend will come home and help you. Even if he doesn’t want you, even if he can be a bit standoffish at times, he has the warmest heart you know. You met doing volunteer work, in fact. You know he will help you like he would help anyone in need.

It does not mean you do not feel pathetic, curled up and shivering on his porch steps. You are debating a course of action when a truck rolls into the yard with a flash of headlights and a noticeably hiccupping engine. It pulls around the side of the house.

You stand and take tentative steps to follow. You are still and quiet as the rough rumble of the truck comes to a wheezy stop.

The driver door flies open. He jumps out, cursing. Your breath catches and all your hypotheticals dissipate in wake of the reality of him.

Lee Minho.

He is wearing his old, dusty leather jacket, something of a signature piece due its reliability. His jeans are torn at the knee, likely a legitimate tear and not a fashion statement, his old work boots a bit scuffed. He is a working man of limited means and nothing functional goes to waste.

He is beautiful as ever. Dark hair falls across his forehead and he pushes it back with a forceful rake, the softer pieces fluttering forward again. He has an athletic frame, but delicate features despite his near-perpetual scowl. When he does laugh, it is a hilariously boisterous sound.

He is scowling right now. Cursing to himself as he stomps around the beat-up truck. He wears a carabiner with a bundle of emergency tools, grabbing a miniature flashlight to guide his way. He props open the hood and starts rustling around inside. He curses again, then he puts the light away so he can reach inside with both hands.

You do not mean to startle him. You thought he might have seen you, observant as he is, but apparently the truck has him distracted.

“Minho,” you say.

You cannot see him too well in the dark, but you hear the distinctive thud of metal as he undoubtedly smacks his head on the open hood. He curses louder this time.

There is a small light on the side of the house. You step towards it at the same time.

He is rubbing the back of his head, frowning, but he comes to a total stop when he sees you. His eyes widen ever so slightly, his brows drawn in confusion. He stares intently at you.

“Hi,” you say.

He just keeps staring.

“Um. I was just in the neighbourhood,” you say. “I wanted to see you. I hope you’re doing well.”

He drops his arm and it swings at his side. He continues to stare at you, the furrow in his brow more intense.

“Right,” you say. You feel a catch in the back of your throat. Fortunately, you have cried all your tears and will not make a fool of yourself in front of him. More of a fool, that is. You want to say so many things but you cannot think of a single word that suffices.

I missed you so much, you think. I think about you every day. Have you thought about me?

It sounds so clingy and pathetic. Your boyfriend derides such women and their neediness. Minho is not a man like that, though. He has never spoken so disparagingly about someone. You know that, but the words catch nonetheless.

You exhale a shaky breath, looking aside at nothing.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say. “I probably shouldn’t have come here. It’s been months since we last spoke. I know we’re not really friends anymore. I just had no where else to go and I…”

“You were crying,” he says.

You look at him. His expression has not softened. It is still that same scrutinizing stare. His gaze is intently locked on yours, on eyes that must show the evidence of your crying.

You wipe your face quickly, embarrassed. Your gaze lifts when he takes a small step towards you. He reaches for you, as if he means to wipe your eyes himself, but then he catches the sight of his own hand, covered in black grease from the truck.

“Shit,” he says, and snaps his arm back.

“Minho,” you say, your heart fluttering just from the suggestion he was going to touch you. A small touch from him means more than anything.

“Princess,” he says, an old affectionate nickname for you, though he speaks it rather dryly. He is still frowning. “Are you hurt?”

“Maybe,” you say. When he reacts physically, his shoulders stiffening, you quickly add, “Not like that. Emotionally, I mean. I just… I think I ran away from home.”

“You think,” he says flatly.

“Well, I didn’t really think it through, to be honest,” you say shyly. “I just… I couldn’t stay there anymore. You know what they’re like.”

He flinches as if the memory comes with a strike. You feel embarrassed, remembering too.

You and Minho became fast friends through your mutual volunteer efforts. You thought nothing of inviting him to a neighbourhood party at your parents’ house. He wore his nicest shirt and fresh pants, but as soon as everyone found out where he came from, they wanted nothing to do with him.

You are embarrassed to say you did not even notice at first, naively taking politeness for granted. He had to explain it to you, then you saw their two-facedness everywhere and felt horrible.

You stayed on his side of town after that, at least until your parents put their foot down. They didn’t want you developing feelings for that kind of boy. You insisted he was just a friend, even while already in love with him. His biting wit and good heart had you in thrall.

You were in denial about your parents being bad people. You wanted to believe they had your best interest at heart. They were just set in their ways. They wanted a good life for you. You told Minho to just give them time. He let you go. They introduced you to your new boyfriend the next day.

Minho takes a breath. He shoves his tongue into his cheek, looking pensive. You are thinking of something to say when he nods his head.

“You look cold,” he says frankly. “Let’s go inside.”

You nod, following him to the front steps. He grabs the porch rail and jumps the steps in an effortless swing. You shuffle behind him while he unlocks the door.

He says nothing, just nods at you. You follow him through, closing the door while he bends down to unlace his boots. He kicks them to the side while you step softly out of your flats. When you meet each other’s eyes, you feel a spark.

You stood in this very spot a few months ago, almost nose to nose, arguing about your parents and what to do. You knew, deep in your heart, the conversation was not about a mere friendship. You both had stronger feelings, but you were both scared to act on them given your precarious circumstance. He did not want to risk everything while you were indecisive. You wanted to keep everything.

You have lived a life of great privilege and you are used to getting everything you want. You have had to confront reality, that you cannot always have everything.

So, if you can only have one thing, you want him.

He looks at you with the same dark passion as then. Your heart skips beats under his intense gaze.

“You’re here,” he says. Maybe the same memories flicker through his mind. He tips his head, looking at you so closely, like he cannot believe you are real.

“Yes,” you say softly, clasping your hands in front of you. “I’m here.”

“To stay,” he says.

“If you’ll have me,” you reply. Your heart is beating so hard, it is a wonder he cannot hear it. Your legs feel even weaker than before, but this time is has nothing to do with bicycles and everything to do with him.

He swallows, his throat bobbing. He sniffs and looks aside while idly tugging his jacket.

“And your boyfriend?” he says, glaring at the far wall.

Your heart sinks. It is your turn to swallow.

“You know about that?” you ask.

He laughs, not that gleeful sound you know but a sharp cackle. He looks at you incredulously.

“Of course I know,” he says. “I don’t always stay on my side of the tracks. Sometimes,” he speaks with sarcastic wonder, “I get to repair houses for the pretty rich people.” He huffs, shaking his head. “It’s fine,” he says. “You should be with someone like that. He’ll give you the house. The car. I bet your parents love him too.”

“I don’t want those things,” you say, bearing his bitterness because you understand what he is feeling. You lift your chin and look him in the eye. “You’re right, my parents do love him. But I don’t. He’s shallow and unkind. And you—” Your voice catches. “You, Lee Minho, are anything but that. You are everything. And I… I love you. I always have.” You drop your eyes with this confession, suddenly overwhelmed with the sheer emotion pouring out of his gaze. “I know it’s been a while,” you say. “I don’t expect you to have waited for me. I just—”

He laughs again. It is still dry, but not so sharp. You glance at him.

“Princess,” he says. “Don’t tell me you seriously think I could just forget about you.” He shakes his head. “It’s like you don’t even know me. I should kick you out just for that.”

You realize he is joking, the faintest hint of something warm melting his scowl.

“I can’t give you that life,” he says seriously.

You step towards him, holding his gaze, pouring as much emotion back at him. He exhales, blinking quickly, long lashes fluttering as he looks at you.

“I have no idea what we’re gonna do,” you admit. “But I know I want to figure it out. With you. And no one else.”

He smiles and it makes you smile. Then he reaches for you, but stops when he once more remembers his dirty hands.

“Shit,” he says again, then takes a step back. “Let me just—”

You take him by the wrist and yank him towards you. He follows your guidance, his breath catching when you plant his hand on your hip. It will leave a big black stain on your perfect white dress, the shape of his hand in a possessive grip on your body.

It is more effective than any word. He swoops in and kisses you, his other hand cupping your other hip with the same deliberate possessiveness. You are certain this horrid little gown will be destroyed and you do not care one bit. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back.

“You’re cruel,” he says between kisses. “Torturing me for so long. I wanted to kill that man. But I thought he made you happy—”

“He disgusted me,” you say. “He kissed me without my permission today.”

“What.” That stops the kiss and he looks at you with that scowl again. “I’ll kill him,” he says without any hesitation.

You just laugh a gentle laugh, shaking your head. You twist a longer tuft of his hair around your finger, making his tense shoulders go soft as he leans in.

“You don’t have to kill him,” you say. “Just make me forget him.”

Oh, Lee Minho is such an awful tease all the time. Of course he goes back to just staring at you with a contemplative air, making you wriggle and wonder in his arms. You whine his name, trying to kiss him, but he dodges it. Your whimpering makes him laugh, because of course it does.

Then he gets very serious. Your heart sends a bolt of heat shooting through your body. Your thighs press together.

He presses his forehead to yours. You gasp when you feel his fingers on your back, the careful slow touch as he tugs your zipper down. The flimsy dress slides off your body as he steps back to look at you. You shiver, gazing back at him. His stare is unflinching as he peels off his jacket and tosses it aside. His hands are already much cleaner, the distinctive print of his palms still plastered to your dress. He wipes the rest on his own shirt then tugs it off and tosses it to the side.

He smirks and wiggles two come hither fingers at you, walking backwards. You follow him slowly, then give chase when he cackles and runs. You follow him into the bedroom where he literally sweeps you off your feet.

“And you say I’m cruel,” you tease.

He closes the door with a firm snap then leans you against it.

“You are,” he says. He looks down your body while running his fingers through his hair. “You are.”

Then he gets on his knees, first one while he tugs your panties down, then the other, when he hooks your leg over his shoulder and put his mouth on you. He does not tease anymore, swiftly finding all the ways to make you moan his name. You are scared your leg will buckle under you when he makes you come, but he holds you steady.

Then he stands up and cups your face, kissing you deeply, making you taste yourself on his tongue. It is a good kiss, everything a kiss should be, hot and hungry, slow and deep. It makes you tingle with aftershocks, blinking at him with delirious pleasure when he pulls back.

Minho can be loud, can be boisterous, can be scathing. He can also speak gently, in such a soft, light rasp. It makes your head spin. He speaks like that now.

“This is how it is,” he says, then kisses you again, licks into your mouth. When you moan, he moans back. “I make you sigh,” he says. “I make your pussy wet. I make you come. Just me.”

“Yes,” you nod, clinging to him when he carries you to the bed. “You, Minho.”

He lays you down, kneeling between your open legs. They are still quivering from your orgasm. He looks at you, hungrily, while opening his belt. He rips it out of his jeans and tosses it behind him, then unzips while leaning down to kiss you. He dives past your waiting mouth to kiss your throat, biting marks under your jaw, on your neck, on your tits. You grab his head, hands in his hair, arching your back under his desperate mouth.

“You’re mine,” he says. “You’ve always been mine.”

He holds your hips while thrusting inside you. You imagine his hands leaving a permanent mark, just like that stained dress, a claiming that forever marks you as his. He fucks you so steadily and deeply, holding you possessively, gasping your name and how good you feel while he takes you.

“Perfect,” he says in that dreamy voice, rubbing you softly while fucking you hard. It makes you come around his cock, clenching tight, which makes him moan into your mouth. “Mine.”

You wrap your legs around him. You lay chest-against-chest, holding each other. Your nails scratch his back, no doubt leaving your own marks, your whole body littered with his kisses and bites. There is not a single inch of you that is not branded by him.

“Yes,” you say. “Always, Minho.”

Saying his name sends him over. He comes inside you, claiming you even there, then stays inside you after while you kiss.

You stay in his arms all night, making love and sleeping then making love some more. When the sun rises, you wake to him holding you, stroking your cheek affectionately.

He kisses your forehead and you nestle comfortably against him, happy to be home.

#lee minho x reader #lee know x reader #minho x reader #skz x reader #lee know smut #lee minho smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #valentinesdaystories #tattywood

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bradshawssugarbaby · 2 months

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Can’t Help Falling In Love - Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

summary: -> When your newborn daughter can't sleep one night, Bradley knows just what to do.

A/N: Here’s a little blurb I did for @ohtobeleah’s Galentine’s Day challenge 🩷 This song is one that I sang/sing to my own baby, so I felt really inspired to just write some wholesome fluff with Bradley as a new dad singing it to his baby, and his wife 🩷

pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x fem! reader

warnings/content: sickly sweet fluff with Bradley as a new dad and being romantic.

word count: 1k

“Shall I stay, would it be a sin, if I can’t help falling in love with you?”

You padded down the hallway to where the sound of your husband’s soft, melodic voice was echoing from. You entered your infant daughter’s room and smiled softly as you saw Bradley cradling baby Sawyer in his arms, humming softly to her as he kissed her head. You stood in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame as you looked on, Bradley none the wiser as you watched him comfort your baby.

“Take my hand, take my whole life too, for I can’t help falling in love with you.”

Bradley shut his eyes delicately as he held Sawyer’s tiny body close to his chest, continuing to hum the notes of his favorite Elvis song in a soft, hushed tone as he rocked back and forth in an effort to lull his sweet girl to sleep. Bradley turned towards the door and opened his eyes to see you. His expression softened, melting into a sweet, content smile, his amber coloured eyes gazing at you from behind his thick, dark eyelashes that you’d always been envious of.

“Hi honey, sorry, Sawyer didn’t wanna go down, was just tryin’ to sing her to sleep. My mom used to sing this to me when I was a kid, she always swore it worked. Guess my dad used to sing it too,” Bradley huffed a soft, melancholic sigh as he thought back to his own father and how he had so little to remember him by, having passed just a month after Bradley turned two.

“It was sweet, I love hearing you sing,” you murmured quietly as you cozied up to Bradley’s side, smiling softly while you pressed your lips against his cheek in a tender, loving kiss.

“I think Sawyer likes hearing me too, she settled right down while I was singing to her.”

“That’s because you’re soothing her. She loves you and loves the sound of your voice, feeling you hold her close, it makes her feel safe.”

“It does?”

“Mhmm, you bet it does.”

Bradley smiled proudly as he glanced over at you, still hugging Sawyer close to his bare chest. Stroking her back gently, he pressed his lips to her forehead once again, gently kissing her as she snored softly. His pajama pants hung low on his waist, his toned, tan skin dotted with freckles. He never slept with a t-shirt on to begin with, but the minute he read that letting a newborn sleep on your bare chest was beneficial to the baby, he started to forgo wearing one at home at all. He dove all in, head first, the moment he found out you were pregnant, determined to be the kind of father his dad would be proud of, the kind of father his dad would have been if he’d had a chance to do it for more than two years.

Baby and parenting books had begun appearing throughout your home shortly after you’d told him, multiplying slowly, one by one as they began to collect on the shelf, magazines about raising children suddenly coming in the form of subscriptions to your door on a monthly basis. Bradley had begun coming home from a day of training, spouting off new ideas for names, suggesting whatever he heard or came across that day. He was as involved as anyone could hope for, his determination to be someone who made you proud, made his baby proud, and would have made his parents proud serving as a driving force to motivate him. On one occasion, you came home from spending a day out in the city to find every piece of nursery furniture perfectly assembled, waiting for your direction as to where you wanted it placed. As nervous as Bradley was about making you proud, there was never a single doubt in your mind about it - he was meant to be an excellent father, just like he was meant to be an excellent pilot. It was just who he was.

Bradley gently laid Sawyer down to sleep in her crib, smiling down at her as she stirred for a second, holding his breath as he hoped she stayed sleeping. As she continued to snore softly, he exhaled, relieved she was still sound asleep. He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling your body in close to his as you both watched Sawyer in complete awe, almost unable to believe something so small and sweet could have come from either of you.

“Now, Mrs. Bradshaw, we’ve forgotten something important about today,” he whispered softly, stroking your hair as he tucked it behind your ear, his touch delicate and gentle.

“Hmm?”

“Valentine’s Day. We forgot it. I didn’t even remember to bring flowers home for you.”

“We did? Are you sure?”

“Positive. February 14th.”

You stifled a laugh as you shook your head, smiling at Bradley as he showed you today’s date on his phone screen. He kissed your forehead gently, his lips hovering for a moment as he hummed.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“There’s no need. Sawyer’s a pretty great Valentine’s Day gift.”

“She’s two months old, hun, I don’t think you having our baby counts as your gift.”

“Sure she does. You just gave her to me a little early.”

“More like you gave her to me. I didn’t do much.”

You extended your hand out to stroke Bradley’s cheek fondly, beaming as your eyes met his.

“You gave me her. Without you, I wouldn’t have Sawyer. And I wouldn’t have a loving, wonderful husband either. And, I wouldn’t get to hear you sing all the time.”

“Oh, you like the singing?” Bradley smirked, playfully whispering as he led you out of the room, pulling the door closed quietly behind you.

“I do, in fact.”

“Well then, honey—“ Bradley began before taking a breath and beginning to sing once more.

“Wise men say, ‘only fools rush in’, but I can’t help, falling in love with you.”

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster bradshaw #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick fanfiction #leahsgalentinesdayspecial

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frenchkisstheabyss · 11 months

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♡ 𝔸𝕟𝕕 𝕋𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕎𝕖𝕣𝕖 "ℝ𝕠𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕤" ♡

♡ Mature Content! Minors DNI! Warnings below the break ♡

♡ Pairing: ot8!boyfriend!ateez x chubby!fem!reader

♡ Summary: A nice, calm, wholesome movie night with your boyfriends except I lied and nothing but absolute filth happens.

♡ Genre: smut with a sprinkle, a smidge, a barely visible flake of plot

♡ Word Count: 3.6k-ish

♡ Warnings: (issa lot happening so pls lmk if I miss anything) masturbation (f), use of toys (f receiving), oral (f & m receiving), anal penetration & eating (f receiving), unprotected sex (ya'll know not to do that irl!), creampies, edging, double vaginal penetration, things get rough, scratching, gagging, pet names (good girl, bad girl, slut, le usual)

♡ A/N: I wrote this with the intention of writing this soft, romantic piece but my mind got lost in the gutter and built a home there so here we are. Thanks to @anyamaris for supporting me in my nonsense as she always does.

Even with the air conditioner on, a wave of heat washes over you. Two fingers---your fingers---press firmly against your clit. You know your body better than anyone in this room. Every flick of your wrist makes your walls clench around the vibrator Hongjoong’s fucking you with. The ultra-soft silicone curves to rest its flat tip directly on your g spot. He keeps it at medium speed, the low hum of the toy a hypnotizing instrumental to the weakened moans leaving your lips. “You’re so beautiful” he whispers, delicately kissing your thigh. And you are.

Lying in the middle of your living room floor on a pile of the fluffiest pillows, you’re the prettiest thing any of them have ever seen. The plan had been to watch a movie. Horror---comedy---who cares? How could they watch anything but you? Legs spread wide. Pussy weeping, begging you to keep going just like that. Your panties, moist beyond measure, are looped around your ankle. The tight plaid mini skirt you wear is pushed up, not denying them a bit of your plush belly. Your nipples are two, tightly beaded indentations in your black crop top. They brush against the cotton each time your chest rises, turning you on even more.

It’s getting harder to play with your clit. Your muscles are tensing like a rubber band stretched near its breaking point. Your wrists are going limp. Your legs are shaking, causing your thighs to jiggle so deliciously that Hongjoong can’t resist nibbling at them. What he loves, what gets him off the most, is simply to watch you make a mess of yourself. “Mmm, Joongie. I’m gonna cum---” you gasp, arching against the pillows. Hongjoong’s laugh is nearly undetectable but you hear it, oozing lust. He’s happy with himself and with you. Pulling the soaked vibrator from your core, he pushes three fingers into you.

“Cum for me, princess. Cum around my fingers.” Hongjoong moves your hand away from your clit, wrapping his lips around it in a small O shape. Your arms fall above your head, your head turning to catch Yunho staring at you from the couch. Yunho looks spaced out. It’s as if his mind is off somewhere far away but that couldn’t be further from the truth. His mind is on you and no one else. It's fixated on the way your eyelids flutter when Hongjoong suckles at your clit. It’s committing to memory that sweet little smile you shoot him right before you lose control of your body.

Hongjoong’s been edging you for an hour all for this moment when he can finger you hard and fast, tonguing your clit as pleasure rips through your body. You’re grabbing at nothing---at anything---to ground yourself but it’s no use. “Hongjoong. Fuck” you whine, struggling to find your breath, “I can’t. Too much. Too---fuck.” Wooyoung rises from his spot on the recliner to kneel above your head. “Let me help” he coos, kissing you on the forehead. His fragrant sable locks dance around your cheeks like curtains, shutting out the rest of the world.

Smooth hands massage their way up your arms, loosening your muscles as they tighten. Fingers press into your shoulders---tickle your collarbone---traverse the arches of your breasts to circle your nipples. Woo slips your shirt up, laying his hands flat on your breasts. He kneads them, pinching your nipples in his palms. “Woo---” you moan, “Joongie---ah.” You mindlessly writhe beneath them. Hongjoong’s knuckles are grinding against your slit. His fingers---they’re so deep---spreading you open even wider.

Woo smiles down at you and there’s something so genuine about it because it is. “He’s right---” he says, “You’re so beautiful.” Woo drags his tongue across your lips just as Hongjoong’s tongue swirls between your pussy lips. There’s an audible squelching sound when his fingers pop out of you, the suction of your walls holding onto him for dear life too relentless to let him go quietly. Hongjoong gets up on his knees, sucking at his fingers, and admires the way you’re still clenching for him. He’d edge you more---keep you like this all night---but he knows he has to share.

With one last kiss which he plants on your lower belly, he leaves you in Woo’s capable hands. Woo reaches over you to run a finger across your slit and you giggle at how much it tickles. When he leans forward you get a clear view of how hard he is and catch yourself salivating. You bring a hand up to rub against his bulge. A groan emerges from somewhere deep within him, “Bad girl.” Still a tad loopy from your orgasm, you fumble your way up onto your knees. “But you love it, don’t you?” you tease, your hand reaching down to rub against him again.

Woo nibbles at his bottom lip, pulling you closer to him. You run your fingers through his hair, tucking a rogue strand behind his ear, “Up.” One word spoken in the singsong voice of an angel such as yourself has him up on his feet without question. Just as you reach for Woo’s zipper, strong arms grab you from behind, locking you in their embrace. “Choi San!” you gasp, admiring that dimpled grin of his, “I’m kinda trying to focus here---” San kisses down your neck, dipping one hand between your thighs.

His other hand cradles your chin, fingers pinching into your cheeks, and turns your head back towards Woo where a throbbing cock, arousal moistening the tip, waits for you. “Then focus---” San says, lightly squeezing your cheeks. You let your tongue fall free, resting it on the underside of Woo’s cock. Rolling it around his sensitive tip, you collect the warm salty liquid on your tongue. San lets go of your cheeks, giving you the room to bring your hand up and grip Woo’s base. You glance up at him and he’s already fixed on you. They stay that way as your fingertips trace the veins traveling up his shaft, stroking back to his base and starting all over again.

San raises your ass enough to slip his cock between your thighs. Somehow he’s even harder than Woo and you haven’t even touched him yet. “You wanna fuck me, Sannie?” “Hmm, is that how we ask?” he growls into your neck, grinding against you. Poking your ass out, you lay your head back onto his shoulder, “I want you to fuck my tight little cunt, Sannie. Please.” San grips you by the hips, sinking into you with zero patience. A vibrator has nothing on San’s cock. Woo tangles his fingers in your hair, sliding his thickness between your lips.

Bobbing your head back and forth, you suck your cheeks in---fan them out---mimicking the exact thing your pussy’s doing to San’s cock. It’s a flawlessly choreographed dance between the three of you. San bucking his hips, feeding you every inch. You rolling back against him, taking him like a--- “Pretty little slut---” San’s panting, the slobber dripping down your chin from sucking Woo off making you look like exactly that. Woo holding your head steady while you pump his glistening length, your hand and mouth working together to put his stomach in knots.

With Woo stuffing your cheeks, your screams are muffled when San picks up his pace. “Is this what you wanted, baby?” he says, slapping you on the ass. “Mmpphh” is all you can manage, Woo’s cock hitting the back of your throat. Woo and San bounce you back and forth, whispering praises that have you back on the edge in no time. Your hips stutter, cluing San in that you’re close, and his pace becomes unforgiving. Woo scoops up one of your breasts, pinching your nipples, feeling their weight in his hand. “Don’t stop---shit---y/n. So good. Don’t---” Woo twitches between your lips, pumping his seed directly down your throat.

Never one to be wasteful you drink him down, massaging his balls with your free hand. “Fuck---pussy’s so good y/n---gonna cum” San hisses and you’re cumming again. He cums with you, ropes of white painting your insides from the other end. Woo leans forward, kissing your puffy lips, “I’ll get you some water.” “And a popsicle please.” Woo and San look at each other---back at you---at each other---back at you. San straightens out your skirt, “What for?” Your gaze dances over to Seonghwa and the two of you immediately begin to blush. “We---uh---” Seonghwa stutters, “Don’t worry about it.”

Yeosang politely moves Woo and San away from you. “Excuse me. Sorry” he apologizes, moving between them to sweep you up into his arms, “We’ll get the water.” It’s not that you don’t know Yeosang can pick you up but every time he does you melt. Yeosang carries you toward the kitchen and Seonghwa’s right behind him. “And the uh---yeah.” Jongho hops up to follow them, pushing through San and Woo with zero of the politeness Yeosang offered. “Thanks though” he grins, patting Woo on the shoulder, “But not really.”

“Oh my---that’s---that” you gasp, pleasantly surprised at how much you enjoy the sensation. Seonghwa bending you over your dresser and swirling a popsicle in your asshole wasn’t on your 2023 bingo board but he has you wondering why it never was. The chill of the popsicle is calming in a way. You were overheating for a bit there but now? You feel tingly all over. With the popsicle melted and your thighs coated in drips of sticky, strawberry syrup, Seonghwa goes to work licking it off of you. His long tongue trails up your left thigh---down your right thigh. It comes back up to your ass, nibbling at the plush cheeks and making you squeal. He stays there for a second kissing them, massaging them, tickling them with the tip of his tongue.

“Hwa---mmph” you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he tongues your candy-coated asshole. Imagine having an itch. Not just any itch. One of those itches that makes it difficult to focus on anything else. One of those itches that refuse to be ignored. But you can’t reach it. No matter how hard you try, your arms just aren’t reaching until---oh god---you finally do. You scratch it and it’s so good that your legs could give out. Nothing, not a single thing, compares to how uniquely amazing that feels. That’s what it feels like to have Seonghwa making figure eights in your ass like his tongue's a professional figure skater.

While you’re bent over seeing stars, he maintains a shaky hold on his cock. Each stroke is slow and deliberate, in sync with yours. “Fuck, you taste so good” he mumbles, fully prepared to smother himself if it means tasting as much of you as possible. You hear a moan you’ve heard a dozen times before. Seonghwa tries to suppress them when he cums even though you wish he wouldn’t. Usually, he hates being messy but his cum has already glazed over his hand and the afterglow is heaven. “Fuck it,” he says to himself, falling across the bed. Spinning around you come face to face with Jongho. “Hey ya cutie” you beam, poking his cheeks.

Sometimes people say that he’s scary, mean even, but when you look at him all you see is your cuddly bear. You drape your arms over his shoulders for support, “Your turn?” Jongho effortlessly lifts you onto the dresser, kissing you like he’s been waiting forever to do it. And he has. “My turn.” He presses the head of his cock against your clit and there they are again. The hot flashes. That thin layer of perspiration on your skin. Jongho grabs your arms, pinning them behind you, and drives into you. “You’re still so wet.” “Not still” you whisper, “This is just for you.” Jongho thrusts into you and you’re full again, his cock much thicker than you remember.

Your exhausted muscles can hardly hold up to being fucked this hard but you don’t have to worry about that. In his arms, you don’t have to worry about anything besides feeling good. He could keep you steady all night if Yeosang weren’t snatching you away, tossing you on the bed. “Yeosang!” you shout, sliding back on the bed, “You can’t just throw people around like that!” Yeosang climbs on top of you, pushing your shirt up, “I can’t?” He brushes a thumb across one of your nipples, lapping at the other as his fingers massage your breast. “You can---shit---do it again” you surrender between shallow breaths.

Yeosang slips into you, his cock pulsing in time with each rise of his hips. His defined arms slip beneath your body, hands locking just behind your back. When he flips you over on top of him, it’s like your whole world’s been turned on its side. He bounces you up and down in his lap, the tremors traveling far behind your core. Just as he picks up a rhythm Jongho tears you away from him, propping you up against the wall. You’d make some smartass comment about Jongho not being good at sharing. If only there were time enough for that.

His arms are already tucked behind your knees, supporting your weight as he fucks you against the wall. “You’re such an addictive little slut, you know that?” he says, and your heart flutters. You just love when he sweet-talks you. The angle he has you at is perfect for stimulating your g spot. He’s bumping right up against it and you’re clamped down around him, as addicted to him as he is to you. “Can I borrow this?” Yeosang asks, peeling you away from Jongho and tossing you back onto the bed.

This time you’re on your knees. All fours is simply out of the question with how completely destroyed you are. “Are you just gonna toss me around all night?” you whine, burying your face in the blankets. Seonghwa lays his head beside yours, nuzzling up to you. “Of course not” he assures you, his voice warm and comforting, “I won’t throw you around when I have you. A light roll maybe---”

“Pirates! Cowboys! Biker gangs!” you mumble incoherently, jolting awake. Shaking off those incredibly strange dreams, you realize that you’re still in bed. Judging from how dark it is in your room, it’s well past midnight. You must’ve fallen asleep after what your aching muscles are telling you was a wrestling match with a bear. A barely awake Yunho tightens his arm around you from behind, “Cowboys? I’ll do anything for you but I am not putting on a cowboy costume.” “I will,” Mingi yawns, cuddling up closer to you from the other side, “I get nice boots. Probably a cool jacket. Ooh, some guns---”

“There are no guns!” you interrupt, “When did you two even get in here?” Yunho shrugs, “A few hours ago. You never came downstairs and we missed you.” The “we” he’s referring to is obvious when you notice how hard he is against your back. “You fell asleep on us” Mingi pouts, a hand running up your thigh to squeeze your ass. You drape a leg around his waist, smooching him on the nose, “Don’t do that.” “Don’t do what?” Mingi pouts even more, knowing how soft you go for him when he does this. “That! You guys are both being so---” “So?” Yunho asks, his long fingers reaching between your legs to stroke your pussy.

You shiver at the contact. Having Yunho behind you, his cock pressing into the small of your back, his fingers teasing you, makes your heart race. Mingi spreads your thighs, giving Yunho more than enough room to curl his fingers into you. “Finish what you were saying.” “I---uh---” “Uh---uh” Mingi mocks, petting your cheek. You move to playfully slap him but he grabs you by the wrist, kissing you before you can even consider trying anything else. Yunho eases a third finger into your core, “You like it when I play with your little cunt, don’t you?” “Mm-hmm” you hum, lidded eyes glossing over.

Yunho stays focused on tapping your sweet spot while Mingi hypnotizes you with his lips. Mingi has you so drugged, so completely entranced, that you don’t even notice when one of Yunho’s fingers is replaced with his. It’s not until there are four of them inside of you, two of Mingi’s and two of Yunho’s that you feel the difference. Feel the intensity of the stretch. “I think she likes it” Mingi grins, rubbing his thumb against your clit. Yunho follows suit, slipping a thumb into your ass. “Fuck---yes---Yunie---Mingi---mmm!” you cry out, so overstimulated that your eyes begin to water.

They grind into you harder, forcing out screams louder than any you’ve made tonight. “Please---inside of me---wanna feel you. Both of you” you whine, so lost in how badly you want them that you don’t realize what you’re asking. Mingi slides his hand out, smearing your juices between your folds, “Aah, she’s adventurous tonight. You sure you can handle that?” “I-I can. Ah, shit. I need it.” Yunho spreads his fingers in a V, rolling them around inside of you, stretching you from every angle. Mingi brings the head of his cock to splash in the juices leaking from your needy core and Yunho pulls out of you, focusing instead on freeing himself from his pants.

For a fleeting moment, it occurs to you how fucking insane you are. Mingi and Yunho at the same time? It’s not only the thickness, it’s the length. You wonder if you have a death wish. Mingi guides himself into you, only the first inch, sending shockwaves through your system. If this is how you die, you figure, at least you’ll die happy. Yunho spits into his palm, moistening his length before he brings it to meet your already occupied slit. Mingi slides in another inch or two, keeping his cock flush against the roof of your walls. Yunho raises himself into you, taking his time to watch for any signs that you’re uncomfortable, “Let us know if it’s too much, okay?” You make a little squeak to acknowledge how nice it feels to be protected, even when he’s in the process of tearing you in half.

He begins to slide up into you, pausing to let Mingi push in a little more, then taking his turn again. It’s a toe-curling, lip-biting back and forth to get them both inside of you. Once they are, you're falling apart, screaming, digging your nails into Mingi’s arm. Pulling his shirt up over his head, he gathers the material and shoves it in your mouth. “We don’t want them to think we’re killing you.” You’re so full, stretched beyond your limit, that only one of them can fuck into you at once. There’s no room for anything---or anyone---else. You belong to them. “You’re always worth waiting for but shit” Mingi grunts, his length throbbing, as much as it can given the space.

There’s moisture on your cheeks. You’re crying. Not from pain. No. That initial sting gave way to pleasure once they were both finally inside of you. You’re crying, drenched in your own tears, because parts of you are shifting that you didn’t even know could. Every stroke has your ears ringing, your heart in your stomach. You feel heavy and weightless all at once. The darkness of the room swallows you while somehow managing to be blindingly bright. There’s an explosion somewhere inside, releasing the building pressure. You’re at your peak again, legs kicking like you’re dangling high up. It hits you hard. So hard that you’re not breathing. Breathe, girl, breathe!

Just as you catch your breath and think that you’re maybe---maybe---coming down, Yunho's filling you up like a donut. Mingi pulls out, tapping his head against your clit as warm cum sprays against you. Correction: Filling you up like a glazed donut. The three of you collapse, unable to do much else besides make a series of broken noises. “Hmph mmm mm hmph,” you say? Scream? Mumble? Mingi throws his arm across his chest, understanding your incoherent huffs, and takes the shirt out of your mouth. You pat him lovingly on the head, “Thanks.”

Readjusting yourself on the toilet, you rub the partially melted popsicle between your legs. This is nowhere near sexual in nature. You’re just in desperate need of relief from how sore you are after the day’s events. “Aah, yup, that’s the spot” you sigh, “Seonghwa really was onto something.” “Was I?” Seonghwa asks, rubbing his eyes. You jump a bit, startled by his sudden appearance in the doorway. Seonghwa stretches, dragging his feet into the bathroom.

As adorable as he is in his pajamas, his hair a complete mess, seeing him right now isn’t ideal. He shakes off the sleep, taking his time to process what’s going on. “Is that a---” “Ssh, if you tell anyone---” Seonghwa’s cheeks turn rosy, a smile spreading across his face. He takes you by the hand, bringing you to your feet, “Come on.” “Hwa, hold on, do you think? I wasn’t--no. No!” You reach back to drop the popsicle in the sink but Hwa pulls you along. “Hold onto that.”

#ateez smut #ateez x you #ateez x chubby reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x reader #ateez ot8 #ateez oneshot #hongjoong x y/n #mingi x y/n #jongho x y/n #yeosang x y/n #yunho x y/n #seonghwa x y/n #san x y/n #wooyoung x y/n #chubby reader

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teacasket · 1 year

Text

omg

genre: fluff au: gamer au, streamer au warnings: none word count: 0.6k pairing: gn!reader x lee felix song: omg by new jeans

THEY KEEP ON ASKING ME, “WHO IS HE?”

Chat won’t stop asking, despite how many times you try to steer the topic at hand to something else. Their opinions on your current Animal Crossing build? Ignored. If you should crochet a cardigan or bucket hat for your cat? Little to no responses. Lavender latte or milk tea for Drink of the Day? Lavender latte wins, but Chat immediately goes back to your hidden boyfriend.

This is what you get for forgetting to mute your mic. You had a whole phone call about dinner before realizing your mistake, and now everyone knows that wholesome, cozy Twitch streamer lightberry swears like a sailor when discussing pork katsu and calls a special someone “baby.” It’s been clipped already, you just know. At least you didn’t put him on speaker.

“‘100 subs if you tell us his name?’” you read. You'll indulge them because indulging Chat makes for good content. “I’ll tell you literally anything else.”

If you told them his name, you would end up trending on Twitter.

“‘Is he also a gamer?’ Yeah. Mostly League, Genshin, Apex. He’s been trying to get into Valorant. Now, 100 subs, please.”

Felix, otherwise known as LixInABox, is a gamer and streaming personality who has nearly a million subs on Twitch. He has a partner, an elusive figure exclusively referred to as “My Partner.” There are rumors that My Partner (MP) doesn’t actually exist and that they’re a cover for his singleness.

“‘20 subs if you tell us his rank?’ Sure. He's pretty high in everything. I can’t ever duo with him, except in Genshin.”

When he started streaming, he was primarily known for his League of Legends skills. Low Masters on a good day, Diamond 3 on the bad ones.

“‘Show us a picture.’ You know what, I’ll do that for free.”

Chat is not happy when you pull up a photo of Marshal from Animal Crossing. To be fair, he does resemble Felix a little.

While they continue to pester you about his identity, you continue terraforming your butterfly-shaped lake. When Marshal walks by with a sandwich, you make sure to point him out.

“There’s my boyfriend,” you say as you glance at the chat, which is scrolling by so quickly, your eyes can barely keep up.

IT’S LIX

MP MP MP MP

LIXBERRY

You’ve got a ship name already? How did they figure it out? Did Felix reach a million subs? He joked that he would reveal who MP was once he hit a million, and you sort of gave him the green light, but surely he would tell you beforehand? You sit motionless at your chair and try to come up with a solution that doesn’t involve straight up lying.

LIXBERRY LIXBERRY

MP IS REAL

HE’S LIVE

It doesn’t matter what you do. By doing nothing, you’ve confirmed it, so you go back to how it all started—you call Felix, live on stream. You leave your mic unmuted intentionally this time.

“Hey, what did you do?” are your first words. You have his stream up as well, so you see the blush on his face. “You’re live on mine, by the way.”

“I didn’t do anything! They figured it out! I mentioned that I was gonna have pork katsu for dinner, and like five minutes later, they connected it back to you. What did you do?”

“I forgot to mute during our call,” you admit. “And I also gave them hints in exchange for subs, but I didn’t think they were anything obvious.”

He looks at his chat and laughs. “You basically told them what I’m famous for. And a picture of Marshal? No wonder.”

“My bad. See you at dinner?”

He smiles, and you can’t help but do the same. “Yeah. Love you.”

“Love you, too, baby.”

Chat explodes. You and Felix will never live this down, but it feels better than you thought. And you really don’t want to admit it, but lixberry is really, really cute.

HE’S THE ONE THAT’S LIVING IN MY SYSTEM, BABY.

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ladythornofrivia · 14 days

Text

Lady with Teal Eyes || Aemond x Aunt!Hightower Reader (Part Three)

word count:

author’s note: I’m writing the last chapter! Woo!

warnings: incest, cockwarming, teasing, sucking, p in v, rough play, flirting, wholesome moment, jealous aemond, possessive, roughness, mild manhandling, mild degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex, second hand embarrassment, dark content, mentions of su*cide, Aemond being too touchy with his aunt, degradation, humiliation.

summary: Aemond meets his aunt for the first time, and there’s more than meets the eye. (there will be three parts…jk…I’m going to add two more chapters)

Three weeks has passed since you have kept yourself and your affairs in secrecy in the Red Keep. Needless to say, it was evident that you have found peace within yourself. Or rather with the one-eyed prince, who would not stop touching you in all places of your body.

His secret—his own holy sept—spilling each other’s fantasies and interests alike. From night until dawn, everything was accorded.

Each time you spent hours with Alicent and her other Green children in a summer daylight, you felt like a cumbersome and sinister virgin committed a crime to your precious sex. Thankfully Gwayne and Criston or the Cargyll twin, even Harold weren’t there to witness the guilt and arousal you’re trying to hide from a tempted imagination.

In the midst of vipers and ambitious alike, you found solace of writing the accounts on your diary. Entries on the pages filled with thoughts—daily and private—one which you know more than anyone else.

The prayers of the Faith of the Seven has been all but a fever dream. What was the religion’s purpose other than a guidance to those who are lost? You were lost once, but no doubt that your prayers were ever answered. You prayed to the Gods that you wanted to know your origins, of how you came to be as the lady with teal eyes, a daughter of Otto Hightower, but the Gods never gave, so you surrendered your faith at the age of seven, but masking it, pretending to be faithful in order to persuade your father and the Hightowers to achieve their good side was nothing more than an act.

And useless, more like.

An illness poisoned in your old wounds again. What does guidance do other than supplanted the seed of greed, selfishness and lies and pettiness to save themselves from others while the innocence tainted like a wounded womb?

Otto was nothing more than a heartless man served to the likes of his greed for the Iron Throne, the Red Keep, and above all, to Alicent.

Has he accepted you like he does to Alicent, there would be no consequences of silent hostility between two factions and conflict within.

Souls like them are already tainted.

But in a way, you’re glad; being in the same room as Otto would be as consequentially stupid as an untrained eye.

In the latest days in King’s Landing, your adoration for the city has grown less, but the sea and the gardens are the only things that could make you relish the taste of small life.

Aemond had taken you to the gardens, of course, and there you raced with pearly silks of ruffled gown and pearls adorned the neckline, hair fumbled in the wind as you looked back at the one-eyed prince with a gleaming smile.

Thin rays of light cascaded down on your winsome manes and the sparkles of your pearl gown.

On the midst of your white-pearl, there’s a necklace, adorned in large white pearls and a sapphire on the center. Aemond gave you a gift before the day of your nameday.

You were not a type of noble who celebrates nameday, especially if you consider yourself to be in a lower rank in comparison to Queen Alicent or the Targaryens.

Oddly, it has been tranquil since the day you arrived King’s Landing, but the days where you spent your days in your room, the gardens and library, as if nothing special occurred. That is until Aemond caught a certain subjects that caught your eye.

But Aemond is more fascinated with your enamored beauty gleaming like a flower blossoming into the sun and wind.

His hands never stopped roaming to your body.

“We’re in the gardens, my prince,” you reminded, giggling.

Aemond hummed as he plunged a kiss and undo his breeches, but before he does, an attendant arrived and announced that Alicent wanted a discussion with Aemond. With loving eye, Aemond bid his goodbyes and left, and within each breath you drew, it leaves you wanting more.

Each day, you and Aemond spent days into each other’s company, but it wasn’t enough. There are times at night is where the thrill accelerated. Nights dawned with passion and blood engulfed with desire.

Aemond thought of no consequences as he pounded his long cock into you—bed creaking as the skin slapped with his.

“My sweet, my love, my muse,” he said, rasping, his head threw back, drawing a feral growl, hips throbbed and rushed. His mind reeled to a thought of you, healthy and glowing with a rounded belly. He wanted to touch you, but in a public, Aemond would be in jeopardy, but since he’s the second son of the ill king, Aemond laid his hand on your thigh, brushing his whole palm, rising and falling motion, no care for consequences.

He could heard your breath hitched, but kept your composure—entertained your guests and family members. Surely it appears friendly and cordial on the outside, but underneath the table was nothing more than a filthy naughtiness arising from the stroke of his hand. His young and rugged, cold hands. You loved his cold hands. He recalled of your face flushed and in heat. Although he preferred heat, the dragon prince reconsidered it on making his hands cold, to pinch and flick your clit and pushing his lithe fingers in your warmth sounds as tempting and pinched the your taut nipples.

The curtains on your four-post bed swayed, and you found yourself moaning aloud, but his hand covered your mouth. His body pressed against yours and his mouth leaned onto your ear.

“You’re taking my large cock so well, my sweet princess,” he told you. “But you must be quiet for me. Can you do that?”

You nodded.

And his thrusts were twice as powerful, until he spilled every last drop of his semen into your soaked walls, and sweat on your flesh cooled from a plundering breeze.

“My good princess.”

Gevie, he thought, as he watched your sleeping body, your tangled locks, and your face leaning on his neckline for warmth, arms enveloping around his lean frame.

~~~

There are nights where you cannot sleep well. Nights about your dreams terrorizing you. The screams of a woman, calling out to you. Then you saw Alicent. Then your father; Otto screamed at you; His eyes were glowing in the dark, telling you how much of a disappointment you are and how everything wrong in his life, the burdens fell onto your shoulders.

Rumors of you, a mythical creature hissed in the dark. Until you found yourself on a high tower, falling, drowning, then nothing…

You woke up crying, and not long, Aemond awoke with concern, and held you in his arms, whispering sweet words into your ears, High Valyrian, telling you that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.

You have never heard of High Valyrian before. His voice is music to her ears, and found her gaze locked to his as you both initiated a long feverish kiss. It was the first time that you felt at peace, where you didn’t need to cry on your pillow.

“I love you,” you told him.

“I love you more, my sweet.” He kissed atop of your head.

Dreams have subsided but it didn’t mean it went away completely. Something was calling out to you. The one-eyed prince remedied with his presence.

And for that, you weren’t in fear of the dreams, of the dark.

As of late, the shared passion between you and Aemond has come to a stop. You awaited him in nightly hours and yet the cold air swept in for an one-eyed prince to come and rescue you.

But he never did.

Could something happen to him? You wondered what was the cause. And you hadn’t known, that is until Aemond stormed into your royal apartments, fuming of the announcement of your betrothal to the Martell.

“I command you not to go,” he forewarned.

Confused, you said, “What are you talking about?”

Aemond prowled, fists clenching, his brows furrowed. “You’re marrying a Martell. You’ll be sent away to Dorne, without ever so telling me. What causes you to drive yourself further from my sight, my love?”

You gulped. “No one ever informed me of the marriage!”

His one eye beamed with glare. “I overheard that you’ll be wedded off soon.”

“I didn’t know of this. I didn’t know any of this!” you protested. “I have never done any errors, Aemond. I will never give you any reason to hurt you.”

Aemond’s hands clutched your arms, near to your shoulders. His knees bent and dropped down, and his head bowed and fell down onto your lap. “So…no one told you?” he said, his voice muffled.

“No one told me,” you said gently. “I’ve been in my apartment to repair the new dress you gifted me.”

“Grandsire told me so.”

You heart stopped.

“He agreed to the terms to Dorne, to win their favor.”

You felt numb at the moment.

“My father,” he bitterly said, “wanted alliance with Dorne for some time, but due to his illness, he was powerless. His mind already rotten, as you saw him before.”

“I have.”

“Why in the Seven Hells my grandsire do such a thing?”

“And you thought I was betraying you? You think I would go behind your back and agree to the terms that no one informed me of? I spent my days on my duties, waiting for you to come back. I tried to find you everywhere in the Red Keep, and nothing, you were nowhere to found. What am I wasting my time for, then?”

Aemond looked up with his good eye gleaming. “I apologize, my lady. You’re the woman I want.”

Your eyes glazed in hot tears; his hands brushed the sides of your waist, his forehead leaned against your stomach.

“I must speak to Alicent of this matter.” Then you got up and left.

But, instead of seeing Alicent, Otto was present before your eyes at Alicent’s apartments. Your chest tightened at the sound of his voice.

The Lord Hand awaited.

You took a step forward.

“Father,” you began, wondering if he’s willing to change his way.

You guessed it wrong.

“I never thought I took you for a fool,” he began. “Coupling with a one-eyed prince for whatever how long, and you decided to act immoral ways against the Faith of the Seven. You are a disgrace to House Hightower. Harlot as your mother ever was. What will Alicent ever think of you, my sweet child?”

But you heard the story wrong; there are rumors years back that your father, the Lord Hand, had an affair with a woman after Alicent’s mother has passed—when Alicent was just an toddler. As much as he grieves for his late wife, he needed someone to warm his heart, but the result began clear when it’s only temporary. And you don’t recall whether Otto treated you fairly.

“Alicent may not know this, but I do know. These walls have eyes, my dear girl. And if you ever lay a hand on any other members of the court, you’ll be sentenced mercifully to death.”

His soft tone never caused a shiver down your spine.

“You’re nothing but an enigma to my existence. You have soiled yourself, soiled my name,” he continued. “You must pray for forgiveness, and your desirable sins will be set free.”

“Where’s my mother?” is all you said.

Otto silenced.

“Where is she?”

Then a small smile crept upward on his lip. “You’ll never meet her. Perhaps you will, if you rid of yourself, I care not. We Hightowers thrive and survive, and you will not; you will rot to despair.”

Alicent’s children will reign Seven Kingdoms, and you will not.

For all these years, you have yearned affection and acceptance was nothing more than a pathetic attempt to injure your pride.

This was all you needed to hear from Otto—the ugly truth.

The comforting lie is just as ugly, like a gown wore on a rotten corpse.

“The Martells will attend here at the Red Keep. Best sure to be on your good behavior. Or you will pay the price by the repent for your existence.”

Maybe the comfort offering from the dead and living can be as painful.

~~~

At dinner, with the Martells involved, you shot a benign smile at the prince, but Aemond is saddened by the outcome. But in the midst of a chatter, you chose to stay silent and play an act of a nice lady. Smiling and nodding is all you could do. But on the inside, you want to thrash everything and burn the lives of those who wrong you.

But you’re only a lady, not Visenya Targaryen.

The Martell prince has been extended his kindness to you, but, afar, unbeknownst to you, Aemond paid attention to you. The glistened of your eyes—your teal eyes—dwindled and empty. And your smile is just as coiled and unnaturally unnerving. While you’re unseen to everybody else, only Aemond’s eye to you are well-known and heard.

No matter how much you tried to look up and glance another’s person eyes, the soul of your happiness is nowhere to be seen.

He has never seen you like this, aside from the tears and pain you have shared. Knowing why, Otto had the upper hand. A child-like state you shared with Aemond has stiffened to adulthood.

It was him, and Aemond knows it so. Otto was just as calculatingly obvious. Aemond urged to take you away and fled to the Free Cities, but his duty, he cannot afford to make a ruckus mistake like last time. Not that he’s ashamed of jabbing his grandsire at supper duration of Viserys’s nameday—he felt proud, but to his own end, his own calculation should’ve been more precise and less obvious.

The Martell prince offered you to take his hand for a night stroll, but you lead yourself back to your room, by excusing yourself.

Not long after, while the guests and his family are occupied by the Martells, Aemond slipped past them and met you back in your room, tackling you with a kiss and an embrace, leaving no breath in your chest.

Within your kiss, you cried, but Aemond had other plans on taking you back, to remedy his careless encounter he had with you this morning.

He took and soiled you again on your pristine bed.

“My father will have me killed if we keep doing this,” you warned him, stroking his glossy hair.

“I shall feed them to my dragon—of those who wronged us, if it comes to that. I care not of my grandsire,” he replied. “He’s as stupid as a boar.”

“What shall I do?”

“Let us make our vows to the Godswood,” he suggested, rather bluntly and more urgent; urgent because his anger was rising against of his grandsire.

“He knows about us, my dear nephew,” you said, tears trickled.

His thumb swiped your tear aside.

“We’ll find a way.” Aemond kissed your head, then onto your lips, after a prolonged of a ragged breath settled down from a torrid consummation, thinking about how he should’ve eaten you at the feast, your legs open and spread across the table, but he shall do that the next time someone tries to outsmart him, even if it’s a family member.

And there, you shared intimacy with a prince once more.

For now, assurance is all you needed.

~~~

In the midst of foggy, cold evening, with you asleep, Aemond managed to find the Martell prince and slaughtered him, tossed him at the highest tower of Red Keep.

The people in King’s Landing will take the Martell’s death as a suicide, but within the eyes of the Gods of Old and New, they knew that the one-eyed prince ended the Dornish prince.

~~~

The next day, the bond between you and Aemond mended and resumed, never minding of the misunderstanding, in your ivory gown with embroidered white roses and teal and green jewels sleeved your shoulders as Aemond in his violet and gold attire. You and Aemond are happy; sent to each other’s arms and the kiss became ardent. The love in between the curtained trees and shadows and thin ray of lights. You felt lighter, and so does he. But the struggles between politics and greedy desires from the people won’t end. But the one-eyed prince beg to differ.

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nunalastor · 2 months

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Okay, more Aus and general wholesomeness to help combat the cursed inbox content (TBH, I feel like I should start signing these with an emoji. I’ve sent you like pauses to scroll through your blog and count the anon I know I sent, 20-ish!?!? Ugh, I didn’t think I had the brain rot that bad. Guess not. Any emojis that are free?

AU: For whatever reason, Alastor’s mum comes to visit. Whether its as an angel or time travel shenanigans is unclear. But everyone basically jumps at the chance to explain just how horrible Alastor is. All except Lucifer, who pulls her aside and tells her that while her son isn’t prefect, he isn’t heartless. He’s saved my daughter, multiple times. He’s the one who called be out on being an absent parent. He supported her when I wouldn’t. He respects women so much it’s a defining part of his characterization. He treats Nifty well, even when most people don’t and are creped out by her. He doesn’t lash out at Angle for his suggestive comments (much) because he knows that’s just what Angle is use to. He’s working on a way to own Angle’s soul instead of the man who’ll keep abusing him. And yes he picks fights and embarrasses Vox, but he never starts them. He’s dragged Lucifer out of depressive states and dealt with him at his worse that he won’t let even Charlie see. Alastor’s mum leaves knowing that while her son isn’t prefect, he is doing what he thinks is best, and he is loved.

AU, ft. Helluva Boss: Rather than run IMP, Blitzo works as Lucifer’s bodyguard. How did he end up in that position? Well, he met Alastor and while they do not get along, Alastor respects that he tries to be a good father. The imp soon becomes a part of their small missed matched family, and is the only one who tell RadioApple to their face that they were not, in fact, just friends. He also likes to tell them that they don’t pay him enough to deal with their drama. RadioApple catches word of Blitz messy love life and decide its only far to meddle like he did. They are both, really really bad at it though.

AU, Human: Lucifer is a teacher. The class knows he was married and divorced, and they have reason to suspect that he’s seeing someone again based on what his daughter Charlie has said. They don’t know for sure until they have to switch to Zoom because of the plague. Unforatnely for them, their teachers partner is very good at not being caught on camera. The only thing they’ve seen of him is a flash of a red coat and a charming voice.

General HCs: Alastor and Lucifer can see each other from their rooms, if they stand at the right angle. They make a game out of trying to communicate with each other from across the hotel with hand gestures or magic. It’s pretty hit or miss most of the time. They also send paper airplanes to each other from across the roof.

Lucifer manages to sneak a rubber duck onto Alastor’s person. Where he hides it I’m not quite sure, but it is hidden. Alastor himself doesn’t know about it, but his Shadow does. It doesn’t tell him. The duck is a means of protection and when Alastor is ambushed by the Vees while healing from his wound from the final, he explodes with magic and knocks them all out, does serve damage to the road and building around it and teleports the deer demon back to the hotel. Alastor tells him to never do it again. He is ignored, and the defense ducks are regularly placed on him.

Alastor can melt with his shadow, but what people don’t know is that he can also blend in with other people’s shadows. It's easiest if they know and consent to him being there though. Lucifer has no problem with this, and Alastor takes great delight in scaring people by popping out of the king’s shadow. It also allows him to leave the pride ring, though he can’t leave the shadow, and he can’t stay in the shadow for very long if outside.

so many!! def sign with an emoji - or even submit as yourself or post to your blog with a link i can reblog so people can follow you!

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #alastor #appleradio #radio apple #apple radio #lucifer #headcanon #nunalastor asks

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yuujipaws · 1 month

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐊 . . .ᐣ

ᯓ★ synopsis 概要 : how the jjk men would care for you after a long week at work.

ᯓ★ featuring 特集 : gojo, geto & toji.

「 minors do not interact 」

ᯓ★ word count 語数 : 491 ( reposted )

ᯓ★ content warnings 警告 : should be just fluff but there is some undressing, bubble bath, kissing and bites, massaging sore muscles and food mentions. overall this is supposed to be wholesome.

GOJO . . . would disappear off into the other room for a few minutes, leaving you curious as to what he was doing back there for so long, returning after awhile, only to pull you along with him. you hear water, and you quickly realize he’s running you a nice, hot bath. there’s bubbles, the lights are off and he’s got candles lit. “baby, you didn’t have to.” you’d whine at him and he’d shake his head at you, pulling you close and beginning to undress you. picking each item of clothing off slowly, planting soft kisses all along your body, your stomach, your chest, your back and shoulders, even a little bite on your ass— to which you swatted at, to which he replies “i just couldn’t help myself!” before sending you off to your bath, sitting close and talking to you about work, feeding you snacks while your hands are wet, stealing soft kisses between bites.

GETO . . . would immediately put on your favorite movie/show, running off to the bedroom, grabbing the softest blanket and your current favorite stuffed animal to snuggle before returning back to you and bundling you up. “what do you want to eat hm? anything you want.” suguru hums, sitting beside of you only for a moment, gathering your response with a little nod. he kisses your forehead gently, leaving again, only to go off to to the kitchen and prepare your favorite meal. you hear shuffling and racket, the fridge opening, cabinets closing. about a half hour later he returns with a tray full of food. a meal along with some snacks for you to enjoy. “i hope this is good.” the look on his face is precious, priceless even, the yearning for praise showing through his eyes. “of course it is baby.” you purr in return, satisfied with his work. you finish your meal and spend the rest of the evening laying in his arms.

TOJI . . . would pull you to the couch, sitting you with your back facing him, starting in on your shoulders, his large palms warm on your sore muscles, his thumbs working out the knots left by months of constant wear and tear. your body would go limp in his grasp, like putty in his hands, head dropping and muscles starting to relax. he would place a few soft kisses to your neck and around your ear, softly whispering the words, “bedroom, now.” before ushering you off and following suit. you reach the room and turn to face him, but the first thing he does is spin you around and tell you to lay down. of course, you do as he says, wondering what is happening here, feeling him straddle you, firm hands beginning to massage your aching back, planting soft kisses here and there as he goes, along with the occasional bite. the massage leaves you feeling relaxed and loosened up, toji flopping down in bed beside of you to steal a few kisses.

#ꪆৎ.beauwrites #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk gojo #jjk geto #jjk toji #toji x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #jjk fluff #jjk sfw #gojo satoru #geto suguru #toji fushiguro #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu geto #jujutsu toji #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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roses-for-rosalyn · 9 months

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i desperately need dealer!ellie and her sweet girlfriend (who is also totally a stoner (;). maybe if reader went out of town for a while and ran out of weed, so she got some off of a dealer/from a dispensary in that town. then reader gets home and ellie would be (mostly jokingly) horrified by the weed that wasn't hers, and so on :3

(sorry if this does not make sense, english is not my first language and i've never done an ask before so im a bit nervous :])

Rahhh what an amazing idea!! I'm so honored I was your first ask, also don't be nervous to approach my account this is a safe space for anyone darling 💕 Sorry it took so long to respond!!

the people who like my Ellie content come 'ere, this is a treat for you.

word count: 3.7 k

minors dni (please bro)

cw: sprinkle of fluff (haven't had a productive therapy session in a loong time), mutual masterbation sort of, neck kissing, drug use 🍃, established relationship, dealer! Ellie, strap on use (r! receiving), teasing, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, no use of y/n (lmk if I missed anything)

You stand before a familiar rust colored door, contemplating for a moment before you rap your knuckles against the hardwood. You were visiting your girlfriend for the first time in a few weeks–which felt more like a few months. You had gone back home to visit family for a while, and to meet up with some old friends. Naturally being with family was incredibly stressful and you were relieved to be able to return to your girlfriend for multiple reasons: 1) she has weed 2) you were extremely sexually frustrated after being without her for a few weeks 3) you simply missed her company (which you would never explicitly admit to her considering she was a pain in the ass half the time). You had been texting Ellie every day and she never failed to turn the conversation from something wholesome into something incredibly dirty. You would go from talking about your day to shaking, nervous hands trying to type a response without dropping your phone. She could have you aching for her in mere moments simply by stringing together a strategic set of words. It was truly a gift, an oddly specific gift that you were incredibly grateful for when you were separated from her.

You had told her almost everything about your visit. You failed to mention that being with family got so stressful you met up with your old plug from highschool. You only bought like three prerolls, but for some odd reason you felt like you were being unfaithful to your drug dealer girlfriend. It was something so incredibly silly, but the action just felt…weird. She enjoyed being possessive a lot of the time, mostly because it was fun for her (particularly in bed). Someone might flirt with you at a bar and she would take you home and not let you come until you had said you were hers over and over and over. A combination of nerves and excitement invaded your body every time you thought about telling her. You would imagine her reaction and an ache would immediately grow between your legs. But then another side of you wondered if it might actually bother her, and maybe she wouldn’t react that way. It was a gamble and you were unsure if you felt like risking it.

The sound of the door opening disrupts your train of thought. As soon as you see Ellie’s face your worries dissolve, you leap towards her, wrap your arms around her tightly and kiss her. You were both smiling so hard your teeth gently knocked together. You lean back, taking her in, you had missed her perfectly placed freckles and familiar green eyes. You kiss her again and again and again, pecking your lips against hers. She moves away from your lips, cups your face and plants gentle kisses on your forehead, cheeks and nose. You giggle and scrunch up your face at the feeling, your cheeks starting to warm.

She breaks away and rests her forehead against yours, “Hi.” she says breathlessly.

“Hi.” you reply, giggling. “I missed you.”

“I know, I’m an incredibly amazing person to spend time with, anyone with a brain would miss me.” She smirks, almost challenging you to retaliate.

Your eyes narrow, “you know what?’ You scoff, ‘I know you missed me,” a grin forms on your face before you continue, “In fact I have proof of exactly how much you missed me right in my phone.” You lean in, whispering in her ear, “And if you don’t admit it we won’t do anything we talked about while I was away.”

Ellie smiles, “Ok, Ok I missed you,” she looks down, “you and your perfect tits.” You pull away from her and playfully slap her on the shoulder, poorly pretending to be offended–your giggling gave you away. you could tell she meant it when she said she missed you because she was looking at you with such adoration in her eyes you think you might explode.

Ellie finally walks away from you to close and lock the door before gently grabbing you by the hand to lead you to the couch. Her hand is so warm and familiar, you squeeze it softly, savoring the feeling.

She looks back at you, mischief in her eyes “Wanna smoke?” she asks.

“God, I thought you’d never ask.” You smile, giddy as ever. You eagerly sit down on the couch next to her, close enough so the sides of your thighs touch. You were more needy than usual and Ellie took notice.

Your eyes move to the coffee table which has various weed related objects strewn about. Ellie had clearly been smoking a bit before you had gotten here. You watch her hands as she leans over the coffee table and begins to expertly roll and pack a joint with her slender fingers. You get lost in her movements, studying the way her hands move so carefully and purposefully.

She finishes rolling the joint and offers it to you with both her hands, head bowed as if she was bestowing a wondrous gift to you. You giggle at her amusing antics and gently take the blunt from her hands, pinching it between your thumb and pointer finger. Ellie is quick to grab the lighter off the coffee table as you bring it to your lips. You wait for her to burn the tapered end off before wrapping your lips around it and deeply inhaling. Thick smoke fills your mouth, flows into your throat and lungs. The feeling is warm and familiar, ever since you started dating Ellie, smoking stopped burning and started feeling more tingly. It was a sort of comforting feeling- knowing your body would eventually relax and your thoughts would become muted. Your eyes instinctively close as you breathe out, a smile forming on your lips.

“Wow, you really missed smoking huh?” Ellie laughs at your dramatic display.

“Well I didn’t exactly go completely without it, but I missed your shit, this is actually good.” You look down, sigh and take another small hit. You offer the joint back to Ellie and look up at her, trying to read her expression. Her appearance doesn’t give anything away as she takes it from you and takes a long hit. Her eyes stay on yours as she exhales, all you can do is stare back, your eyes frantically searching hers for any hint of anger or jealousy.

“Where’d you get the other shit from?” Her tone is completely flat. “Wasn’t from me was it?” she pinches her eyebrows together, trying to recall if she sent you off with anything.

“No, no. I got really stressed and I was desperate for any type of relief sooo I messaged my old plug from highschool.” You let out a short laugh. Ellie hands the spliff back to you calmly.

“Was it any good?” She tilts her head and watches as you take a long hit before answering.

“Pretty good, but nothing compared to your shit babe.” You smile as you exhale and hand the joint back to her. She takes it and puts it out, her expression remaining scarily blank. She was obviously planning something in that brain of hers.

She hums and nods looking down at the coffee table. She sits up and finally looks at you, pats your thigh and mumbles “come ‘ere.” You do as she says and adjust yourself so you're straddling her. “Cheating on your drug dealer who is also your girlfriend huh?” She shakes her head, “Bad idea.” Her expression turns into a wicked smirk.

You laugh “No I-”

She interrupts, “Uh, uh, I don’t want to hear any excuses.”

“But I-”

“You’ll have to make it up to me princess.” Her voice lowers, a suggestive tone lacing it. The way she said it, dominance dripping from her words sent butterflies straight to your cunt.

“Whatever you want, Ellie.” you say in your most submissive voice, hoping it will convince her to take mercy on you. You know she’s gonna make you ache tonight one way or another. She smirks and kisses you. She opens up your mouth with her tongue, the kiss this time was different; it was hungrier, her tongue roughly massages against yours and she groans at the feeling. You move your hands down to the hem of her sweatshirt and tug. You break away for a moment to throw her sweatshirt across the room leaving her in a white tank top. She grabs the hem of your t-shirt and does the same, leaving you bare for her.

You hadn’t worn a bra in anticipation for tonight and it definitely paid off. Ellie wasn’t expecting it and stared for a moment, your nipples beginning to harden from being exposed to the cool air in her apartment. You can’t help but giggle at her ogling, but the giggle is quickly cut off once she latches her mouth onto your sensitive nipple. Her warm tongue swirls around your hard bud and you gasp at the feeling, threading your fingers into her hair. She brings up one of her hands to begin playing with the other breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between her thumb and index finger. The feeling was even more intense from the weed, her actions sent arousal straight to your cunt. She takes her time, licking and sucking until she’s satisfied. You're a panting mess after mere moments, mumbling breathless obscenities as she has her way with you. She moves to the other nipple and you have begun grinding against her to try and relieve the ache that had now grown painful between your legs. She removes her mouth, before moving up your body. She kisses along your clavicle taking her time, sucking and licking as she moves. She made her way to your neck and latched on to the sensitive skin causing you to moan. She is slow and methodical, purposefully trying to mark you up. You didn’t mind, you kind of liked the bruises she would leave behind. Your heightened senses deliciously exaggerate the feeling of her warm tongue on your skin, while also making the ache in your cunt almost unbearable considering everything was sensitive.

“Ellie please.” you whimper, wanting her to do anything to satiate your sore cunt.

“Please what, Princess?” She asks between kisses.

“Ellie” you whine out, frustrated beyond belief. She hums and grabs your thighs, wrapping them around her waist, then your arms to wrap them around her neck before standing up and walking you both to the bedroom. She continues teasing you with her tongue, touching you everywhere, but where you need her. She lowers you down to sit on the edge of the bed and you break away from her to back into the middle and lay down. She raises her eyebrows at your eagerness, but crawls on top of you and kisses you, her tongue intertwining with yours, her leg in between yours rising higher and higher… before she pulls back. You frown and tilt your head in confusion.

Ellie smirks and raises her eyebrows, “Oh, you thought I was gonna make this easy?” She lets out a dry laugh at your desperation. She finds it cute, but not cute enough to give in and give you what you want.

“But I just got back-”

“And what did you do while you were gone?” She tilts her head questioning you. “You gave me a reason to make this difficult for you,” she answers her own question before leaning in so close you can feel her breath tickle the shell of your ear and whispers, “And you know how much I love an excuse to make things difficult for you.” The bass of her voice invertebrates through your body sending tingles down your spine.

“F-fine,” You try to sound confident, but she has you in pieces underneath her. “What do you want?” At your question Ellie sits up kneeling over you.

“Get up.” You sit up slowly as she gets off the bed and you follow. You stand in front of her, chest heaving from arousal, eyes shining with desperation and Ellie almost scraps her whole plan for the night. She grabs the hem of your shorts and gently lowers them past your hips, letting them slip to the floor. She does the same with your underwear, all the while you stand still, allowing her to have her way with you. Ellie unbuttons her jeans and lowers them to the floor, her tank top following. You can’t help but stare, her sports bra doesn’t do much to conceal her hardened nipples, her toned abs and arms practically made you drool. She rests her hands on your hips and takes a moment to admire your bare body. “So beautiful, baby.” Ellie breathes out before planting a gentle kiss to your shoulder. You smile at her and she smiles back, then she walks towards the head of the bed, grabbing one of the pillows and putting it in the middle of the bed. You're confused until she gestures for you to sit on the bed. Oh.

You crawl on to the bed and straddle the pillow, facing the head of the bed. Ellie moves to the top of the bed, gently grabs your hips and encourages you to lower down on to the pillow, you put your hands on top of hers and start to sink down. Once your sensitive clit contacts the soft fabric of the pillow you let out a small gasp. Subconsciously, you start rocking back and forth on the pillow, so needy and overstimulated you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your eyes start to close from the delicious pressure on your clit.

“That’s it princess, just like that.” You let out a little whine and continue rutting against the pillow, chasing relief. After a moment you realized the pillow wasn’t going to be enough, you needed more. You move your hand from Ellies and start to bring it down between your legs. She grabs your hand and tuts “uh, uh you’re going to move just like this,” She nods to you, “until I say. Not any faster, not any slower.”

“But-”

“You didn’t seem to want me enough,” She shrugs, “so I’m gonna make you need me.” You let out a quiet moan at her words. She was intoxicating when she was like this, you loved it and hated it at the same time.

Ellie lets go of your hips and you do as she says, keeping a steady rhythm against the pillow. Once she watches you for a moment she leans back onto the pillows one leg bent, the other straightened out in front of her. And she just…watches, staring you right in the eyes, she doesn’t plan on touching you or helping you in any way. Fine if she was going to watch, you were going to give her a show. A show good enough to get her to give in–hopefully. You begin letting out little whines and gasps as you move fluidly against the pillow. You maintain eye contact as you let your moans build, your clit being teased from the fabric. She groans “Keep moving just like that Princess.” Your eyes follow Ellie’s hand as it slowly starts to move between her legs, palming at her clothed cunt.

The action immediately sent a wave of arousal to your needy pussy. “Ffuck, Ellie.” you whine out, letting your head fall back and eyes close. Your moans grow a little louder, pleasure slowly building in your stomach. You look back at Ellie, her chest is heaving as her hand moves a little faster against the fabric of her underwear. She is looking down, watching you fuck the pillow, both of you longing for the pillow to be Ellie. You decide to boldly move one of your hands to your breast, cupping and massaging the soft skin. She doesn’t protest, only watches you in awe. You could tell she was on the verge of giving in. You start moving your fingers around your nipple teasing the sensitive bud, before pinching and rolling it between your fingers. You moan loudly at the sensation and begin to move faster against the pillow. Ellie gets up quickly and grabs her strap from the night stand. You let out a sigh and halt your motions, feeling relief flow through your body.

Ellie looks back at you “Did I say you could stop?”

“N-no but-” You stop talking once Ellie tilts her head, silently challenging you. You start moving again, whining a little bit at the feeling of your sore clit rubbing against the soft fabric. You watch as Ellie adjusts the harness. Taking her time to secure it, you would almost be pissed off if you had any room for any emotion besides complete and utter desperation.

Finally Ellie moves behind you on the bed, she caresses your shoulders, moving her hands up and down and kisses the side of your neck. You are still desperately humping the pillow as she said, waiting desperately for her to say the word. “Ellie please.” The desperation in your voice is pathetic, but you were reduced to a puddle from her literal torture.

“Come and then I’ll let you stop.” She whispers in your ear.

“Ellie I can’t, it’s not enough I need more please.” She moves her hands to your breasts and begins cupping and massaging the tender skin. Once she starts teasing your overstimulated nipples your head falls back on her shoulder and you moan her name. She starts sucking and kissing your neck and that was all you needed. The pleasure in your stomach finally started to build to a peak. You start rutting your hips faster, chasing your high.

“Come for me baby.” Ellie breathes into your ear. At her words your orgasm hits you, your pleasure coming to a satisfying peak after the relentless teasing. You buck against the pillow over and over, riding out your climax. “Good girl.” Ellie says as she continues teasing your nipples. When you start to come down Ellie immediately guides you so your upper body is laying against the bed, still straddling the pillow. She grabs the pillow and puts it underneath your hips, giving her a perfect view of your swollen, dripping cunt. You suddenly feel her fingers running up your slit, gathering your arousal, before shoving two fingers inside your soaked cunt. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, tightening around her fingers. “So perfect for me baby.” Ellie says before starting to move her fingers, curling them up against that perfect spongy spot inside of you. You moan as she moves her fingers in and out of you perfectly. She removes her fingers from you and you feel her begin to guide it against your soaked pussy, nudging your clit as she moves her hips forward. You moan into the sheets as she moves her hips back and forth a few times, grazing your clit each time. The strap was coated in your juices after mere moments. You were almost dripping down your thighs, clenching around nothing as Ellie teased you. She massaged the silicone cock, coating it with your arousal, before teasing your entrance with the very tip. You groan as it stretches your tight cunt. She moves slowly, opening you up with the thick black cock.

“Oh god.” you moan as she moves deeper into you.

“Relax for me baby. You can take it.” Ellie assures you. You relax, allowing her to sink all the way into your tight cunt. You whimper as she bottoms out, feeling a painfully pleasurable pressure in your pussy. She grabs your wrists and holds them together with one hand and places the other on your hip. She starts to fuck you mercilessly, not giving you any time to adjust, forcing a pathetic “fuckfuckfuck.” out of your swollen lips. Ellie begins grunting at every thrust from the effort, but keeps her pace. The harness was rubbing against her clit perfectly, her ache being soothed as well as yours.

“God I fuckin missed this pussy baby, missed using you however I wanted like this.” You moan at her words, you loved it when she used you however she wanted. “Such a good girl for me.” She begins moving faster, getting lost in her pleasure. She uses her grip on your wrists to pull her cock deeper into you, causing you to moan at every thrust. Ellie could tell you were already close.

“You can come as many times as you want, princess, but I’m not stopping until I’m done.” You started to come undone, your orgasm ripping through you as Ellie fucks you through it. Waves of pleasure wash over you and you moan so loudly, you are sure the neighbors heard, hell maybe the whole neighborhood. You start to come down, but Ellie doesn’t let up, you whine as she continues to pound into your overstimulated cunt. You whine out her name and she reaches under you to lift you upwards, your body flush against hers. She slowly moves her hand down your stomach, you can tell what she’s doing “Ellie I can’t-”

She pauses, “You can take it, give me one more baby.” You nod and she moves her hand to your clit and starts rubbing it in small controlled circles. She uses her other hand to tease your nipples and you’re already close again, muttering obscenities and letting your head rest on her shoulder. Ellie begins panting and moaning in your ear as she thrusts into you, reaching her high as well. Her hips start moving sloppily and she breathes out “Come for me.” before coming undone herself. You let go, your moans syncing with Ellie’s as her thrusts become slower and less controlled. Your body completely submerges into your pleasure, your hips rocking back into Ellie’s mindlessly. You can barely hold yourself up any more as pleasure washes over you. Ellie holds you against her as you lose your strength. She pulls out of you slowly and lowers you down to sit on your knees as she removes the strap, throwing it to the side. You turn around to face her and smile lazily, she smiles back and kisses you softly. She lowers you onto the bed as she continues kissing you. You collapse into the soft pillows, every bone in your body giving out.

“I missed you.” You barely manage to whisper.

“I missed you too.”

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #ellie williams #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader #ellie smut #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you

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facefullofsadness · 3 months

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but fuck sake, I'm already yours

idol!au (y/n is the 5th member of aespa)

idol!giselle x idol!y/n

prompt - y/n is far from home on the holidays, so aeri brings her home!

content - sickening amount of fluff, frequent usage of time skips, (like kinda bad? rushed bc I wanted to finish it lol)

wc - 2679

a/n - read so many fluff fics recently and now I need my wholesome fix so here I am! (we're like way past the holiday season now but who's counting right?) extra a/n at the end.

"what are you gonna do for the holidays y/n-ie?" ningning asks me.

I sigh, leaning my cheek against my hand as I look out the window.

"I'm not sure ning-ie, it's not like I can go home right now, the states are too far and we have schedules immediately after. plus we only get like a week, they wouldn't let me go home," I recall a meeting I had with our managers regarding this exact situation.

the girl gives me a pout, "right, it's unfair they let me and aeri go home but not you."

I shrug, "it makes sense but it still sucks."

"here, have some, it'll make you feel better and it's not like I'm gonna finish it all anyway," yizhou pushes her pastry towards me, mouth stuffed full of it.

I switch my gaze towards her, watching her puffed up cheeks chew on the sweet treat, smiling at the adorable sight.

"thanks yizhou."

just then, I get a text message. I look down at my phone on the table to see who it is.

aeri bby girl <3 (abg)

> when r u two coming back?

it was giselle.

you

> awww miss me already aeri?

aeri bby girl <3 (abg)

> answer the q y/n!

> it's importanttttt

you

> how important could it be?

> wtv we'll be back in like 10

aeri bby girl <3 (abg)

> make it quickkk

> I'll buy u coffee!

you

> I'm literally at a café ???

aeri bby girl <3 (abg)

> in that case

> get me one!

> mwah <333

"ahhh god, how annoying," I scoff with a smile growing on my face anyway.

the girl across from me looks up with wide cute doe eyes and cheeks like a chipmunk, "who ith et?" she asks, question all muffled.

"first, ning-ie, finish your food. second, aeri." I wipe a crumb from her chin.

"sowwy," she finishes her mouthful before continuing, "what does she want?"

I take a sip from my iced coffee before responding, "wants us to head back asap. something important as she says. she also wants a coffee."

I roll my eyes at the last detail.

"aww, cutting our last date short! I'll never forgive her for this," the girl dramatically whines.

"it's okay yizhou, we'll have plenty of time when you come back, promise."

"ugh fine, you're paying for our first date when we see each other though."

"I paid today?!"

"and you're gonna pay again for aeri's drink!"

"ning!"

after begrudgingly paying for aeri's drink and walking home slouched over, holding ning's hand, the two of us make it back to the dorms.

"hey guys, that was quick. how was it?" karina greets.

"great!" "terrible..."

yizhou and I sharing opposite answers.

"hey!" she exclaims.

"girl you act like you're broke! we make about the same! you actually make more by the way?!"

"but you love me!"

"you're already giving me a headache, go to your rooms please," jimin comes into view, rubbing her temples with her eyes closed, sitting on the couch.

"rina, please discipline this kid, I can't."

"finally!" giselle walks out of her room and towards us.

"menace number 2," I mumble.

"I heard that!" both of them say.

"jesus..." me and jimin say simultaneously.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP I'M NAPPING!" an uncharacteristically aggressive shout comes from winter's room.

we all pause before trying our best to conceal uncontrollable laughter.

"who shit in her cereal?" aeri asks, piercing a straw into her drink.

"minjeong's just restless from getting to go home for the holidays," karina replies.

my gaze and head fall at the mention of getting to return home. I make my way towards my room as I hear yizhou and jimin continue to talk in the living room.

"hey, I wanted to ask you something," aeri follows me into my room.

I hum in response, allowing her to continue as I hang up my winter coat.

"I know you're gonna be alone for the holidays since all of us are going home..." she starts, letting the statement hang in the air for a little.

"right..." I sigh, plopping down onto my bed.

aeri closes my door before joining me on my bed, comfortably laying her hand atop my own on my lap, "I don't want you to be alone."

my heart swells. I scratch at my face to try and subtly hide the red crawling onto my cheeks.

"so, would you come with me?"

"huh?"

"to japan y/n, would you come home with me?"

the look in aeri's eyes that I desperately tried to avoid was sincere. she looked like a hungry puppy begging for food the way she looked at me. god, why does she have to look at me like that?

"but why? what's the point-" I try to give a *not freaking the fuck out because my crush is asking me to go home with her* answer.

"I want you to come." and then my stomach exploded with butterflies.

don't give a pathetic answer, "o-oh..." fuck.

the silence that follows is deafening as I just want to calm myself down, but then I feel the grip on my hand release tension as aeri starts again.

"uhm, I- I mean unless you don't, don't want to."

when I look up at the girl, her gaze shifts away, seemingly more interested in the floor.

"no aeri, I would love to. sorry, I just am surprised is all, I didn't expect that." which is true, but it was more of a reply that tried to conceal the fact I wanted her to ask me something like this so bad for so long.

the girl across from me grew a beautiful smile on her face, hand on mine tightening again, "good, I'm so glad. I meant to ask you earlier to give you time but with schedules and everything, I didn't think it'd be appropriate."

I boldly interlaced our fingers with one another and gave her a soft smile, "I would've said yes even if the flight was tomorrow, you know."

she releases a small set of sweet giggles, "as if! you would complain about not having enough time to pack. you would be all 'ohh, I don't know, if it was so last minute maybe you didn't want me to go' and be so sulky and pouty."

"okay that's enough!"

aeri and I walk down the corridor leading to the airplane, holding hands. my heart was pumping with excitement as the two of us sat in our seats next to each other.

"which movie did you wanna watch first? I prepared all the essentials but also chose a few new ones!" aeri excitedly pulls out her laptop and scrolls through her downloaded films.

"please just nothing scary again. last time, I literally shrieked and people stared at us," I frown recalling the memory.

giggles escape the other girl's mouth, "aww y/n-ie, it was cute though!"

I hit her on the shoulder before she continues, "okay okay whatever, no horror movies for my princess."

I turn to look out the window, acting pouty and upset all to cover up my undeniable blush.

"oto-san, eomma!" aeri excitedly waddles towards her parents waiting for us outside the airport.

"aeri!" the ecstatic couple envelops their daughter in a sweet hug.

I catch up with them with luggage in my hands, giving a bow and a smile when they look at me.

"mr. and mrs. uchinaga," I greet them both.

"aw y/n, you're our daughter for the holidays, please, no need to be formal you know, just call us ojisan and imo-nim if you'd like!" aeri's mom pulls me into a warm hug.

"right y/n, I even learned some english for you so you can feel a bit more comfortable! how's are you hungry? want to eat? is that right?" aeri's dad smiles, speaking his hard learned english.

"oto-san, she can understand japanese too! I taught her well," aeri smirks at me, reaching out for my hand which I take.

"it's true sir, I made sure to study a little more than usual since I knew I would come along," I reassure.

"oh man, I should've worked harder too then!" he scratches his head and exclaims disappointedly in japanese.

"come on honey, let's help the girls with their bags already," her mom drags her dad towards our bags, "you girls go inside!"

aeri pulls me into the car and into the backseat, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and dragging me to the window.

"I literally cannot wait to show you around y/n-ie, I'm gonna give you such a good time."

"don't disappoint uchinaga," I tease.

"how dare you, how could I ever!?" she turns to me with an offended look on her face.

I smile up at her, "then just don't!"

she huffs and holds onto me tighter, "not before I annihilate you with cuddles first!"

"aeri I can't breathe!"

"your parents are sweet, aeri-ah."

"they really seem to enjoy you, I'm glad."

"love my son-in-law too."

"cooper can be a handful, I'm surprised he warmed up so easily to you."

"he has good taste in pretty girls, what can I say? have you seen his mom?"

a pink tint spreads across aeri's face across from me.

"I'm supposed to be the flirty one!"

I giggle at the flustered girl in front of me. we continue to converse over dinner out in the bustling heart of japan's capital city. the night drags on and we lose ourselves to our endless conversation, talking about literally whatever, not caring what we were talking about, just enjoying hanging out with each other.

after some time, we left the restaurant and strolled along the city. aeri and I would snap pictures of one another here and there to post later on and keep as memories. occasionally she would show me an old landmark she used to frequent or that were valuable to her and her past. sometimes, she would say "hey y/n, we should go here tomorrow or later in the week!" excitedly pointing to a restaurant or café she has never seen before.

the time became later and later but we still continued on, not wanting this day to end.

"aeri? what if we just kept walking?" I suggest.

"hm, it is really late, you know y/n," she hums.

"I have you, don't I? we should be fine."

she sighs heavily, "well, I can't argue with that."

and so that's what we did. walking down the empty, cold, dark streets of tokyo, illuminated by the lamp posts and shining moon overhead, the stars guiding our path. my hand was warmly grasped in aeri's as we sway our arms back and forth. I lower the scarf covering my nose and mouth to breath in the cool winter air, taking in this moment.

my heart swells with warmth even through the frigid wind that flows past my hair. I can't even begin to guess the amount of time that ended up passing as the two of us strolled in comfortable silence, simply basking in the moonlight and each other's sweet presence.

our speed slows slightly and I'm taken out of my trance when I feel the older girl tug my hand gently.

"come," she commands softly, voice almost inaudible but heard clearly due to the dead of night's silence.

I turn towards her and follow her gaze to a sizeable quaint playground. a small giggle escapes me and she looks back at me with expectant eyes. I roll my own before humming in acceptance, the former girl letting a small smile settle on her face and dragging me towards the swing set.

aeri makes herself comfortable on one of the swings, motioning at one next to her for me to sit on. I follow her lead, still holding her hand tightly. we swing softly, listening to the wind whistle melodically in my ears and closing my eyes to soak in the serenity of this peaceful night.

time continues to pass again, the two of us simply enjoying ourselves doing practically absolutely nothing. until aeri gently speaks up from the silence.

"y/n."

it's all she says, switching our hands holding to now interlace our fingers, the change making heat rush to my cheeks.

"aeri," I whisper back, tilting my head in her direction, but not facing her.

she sighs softly and I feel her hand start to become slightly clammy and shake.

"y/n..." her voice unsteady.

I look up at her finally to meet her gaze staring straight at me. however, it was not intense, it was nervous, maybe even slightly fearful. my eyes soften at the way she looks, feeling my heart squeeze in my chest. I bring my free hand and rest it atop her hand I'm holding.

"aeri..." I repeat her name back to her, making sure my voice is filled with as much comfort and reassurance I'm able to communicate.

my thumbs rub against her large hand, her fingers grazing against both of my hands.

suddenly, slowly aeri stands, lightly pulling at my arms to bring me up in front of her. my body reacts on it's own and obeys, our fronts meeting each other and greeting with warmth. her free hand rests at my hip, steadily making it's way up the side of my body, landing at the length of my neck, her slender fingers scratching the hair of my nape.

"y/n."

I look up at the eyes of the slightly taller girl, her brown eyes alluring in a calming and comfortable way, gazing into my own with want and intent. an inexplicable force pushes me to rest my forehead against aeri's, her eyes flutter and stare darts between my eyes and my parted lips.

"aeri."

the last call of her name reaffirms what she wants to do and finally, aeri leans into me, placing her soft plump lips on my own. I release a sigh I didn't realize I'd be keeping in out into the kiss, moving my lips to meet the slow motion of her mouth. my stomach flips with emotion and heart pounds with excitement, my brain unable to process so many feelings at once. the hand resting atop her own leaves, now placing my hand to grip at the collar of her coat, pulling her closer.

the kiss continues and the taste of her sweet tongue begging to enter my mouth intoxicates me. I become dizzy at the feeling of her fingers firmly pulling my face into her, tilting her head to kiss me deeper. my hand interlaced with hers' tightens, warning her to pull away, which she obeys, breaking away her needy mouth from me. I hold her close, making sure she can't leave, resting my forehead against her.

our heavy panting fills my ears as I catch my breath, slowly blinking my eyes open to stare deliciously at her red, wet, and plump parted lips.

"fuck, I'm yours."

I honestly and truthfully couldn't tell you what happened after last night. everything following the playground was a blur, I don't even know how I ended up waking to my face buried into aeri's neck, laying on her bed, and hands under her shirt. I'm the first to wake, taking in the surroundings and trying to remember.

my concern for recollection fades as the soft sighing of the girl holding me snuggly in her arms fills my ears. I tilt my head up and my eyes land on her sleeping figure, peaceful and elegant. the smile that creeps up onto my face is unstoppable and I can't help but to watch the beautiful girl slumber serenely.

the hands under her shirt scratch her skin softly, dragging them against as much body of hers' I could touch. the arms around me pull together, bringing my body in even closer to her embrace.

"mine."

a soft mumble leaving the drowsy lips of the sleepy girl holding me. it's followed by a small whine as my own lips attach to her exposed collarbone, sucking gently until a red mark formed.

"mine."

a/n - okay like but if you listen to urs by niki, the lyrics DO NOT match w the fluff of this fic, but like the vibe of the inst. rlly does and I liked the lyric I used, so ignore it okay? thanks ily <3 also the middle part is really ass, I honestly just wanted to write the last two scenes so the set up is dogshit lmao, but whatever, aeri uchinaga cures a multitude of sins (including the fact there's literally a picture of her on a swing but it wasn't nighttime in the pic so i didn't use it oops-). anyway... tysm for the support on the jen fic ahhhh!! genuinely so shocked at the love rn, almost 500 likes and 100 followers? like u guys are insane ty ty ty. pls look forward for more in the future!

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bee-nutauthor · 3 months

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Dimitrescu Sisters If they were Content Creators Headcanon (for fun)

Bela Dimitrescu

-The most wholesome, mom-esque content ever

-Will give you good life advice, whether it be shopping tips on how to get more groceries for less, or tips on how to manage your finances

-Makes cooking videos, sewing videos, make up videos, candle making videos, nail painting vidoes- basically anything to do with crafts and she's probably done it

-Speaks in a calm tone, has mellow music in the background

-Uses very calm colors in her videos, meaning her shirts are in cool tones of blues, grays, whites, and blacks.

-Her backdrop is a clean and organized space- a light wood bookshelf, plain walls, some minimalist flower vases, and a diffuser

-Is very organized with her schedule. Her videos are always up at the same time and day, and she follows a rotating schedule of what topics she will make videos for

-Controversies? None, unless you count the time she roasted a company who wanted her to do a paid promo for actually being toxic and causing them to shut down

-She is affectionately called 'Internet Mom'

-She does not understand the 'sorry, mommy' jokes and does not wish to

-Does not collab with other content creators, which lead to a conspiracy theory whether she actually existed in real life or was a robot

-Is sponsored mostly by clothing brands

Cassandra Dimitrescu

-She is a storytime channel, telling the most outlandish stories ever

-And they're all true. Her life is just like that

-She travels a lot for work so often she'll film travel vlogs or behind the scene vlogs

-Collabs all the time with other content creators

-Always has famous people on her channel

-Does Q and A's

-Her video uploading schedule is not super consistent due to her traveling a lot, and sometimes she'll post several videos in a row and then there will be nothing for a long time

-She has cycled through 5 public relationships within the first three months of her channel

-Has released music videos on her channel and is planning on releasing a full album. She always puts a lot of effort into her sets and costume design. Her singing is amazing as she's classically trained and can do opera too

-Has starred in other content creator's mini series on youtube and always draws the most views in

-Outfits are always changing depending on if she's traveling or making music videos

-Has made a few comedy skits here and there

-Controversies? There is a lot of drama circling around her and who she's hooking up with or who she'll go for next. A few people tried to call out her melodramatic behavior and instead of making an apology video Cassandra winked at the camera, sent the viewers a kiss and said "you know you love me like this," and ended the video like that.

-She was right. Her views only skyrocketed after this

-Gets many sponsorships, but donates the money from them to art or dance studios

Daniela Dimitrescu

-A streamer, she streams several hours a day in a row

-She does games mostly, with the occasional video filming her attempt to cook some horrific dish she found on the internet such as the toducken

-Has posted a few videos of herself doing tricks on her skateboard

-Has posted a few videos of her work out routines. Those have millions of views for reasons relating to her crop top and abs

-Has a set up with RGB lights in the back, and a mini fridge full of energy drinks

-Has the latest technology to play games on, but wears the same outfit almost always to her streams: a black tank top, a black hoodie with neon green writing on it, and a pair of headphones with cat ears on top

-Has dyed her hair many times but commonly sticks with her red hair, shaved on one side

-Has tattoos of her favorite video game characters on her arms and legs

-Will stream with other players and has done a handful of collabs but prefers playing single player games

-Rarely sleeps and has done several 24 hour streams for charity

-Controversies? She was accused of cheating when doing a speedrun but it was only the haters claiming she couldn't play

-Sponsored by raid shadow legends and other game companies

#resident evil #resident evil village #resident lover #daniela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #the dimitrescu's as influencers

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mochimooon · 6 months

Text

DTF Only (Out of Towner) - reiner braun x reader 18+

pairing: Reiner Braun x afab! Reader summary: Reiner's in town for one more day. A slip of the tongue over coffee, you learn that there was something he was hoping to cross off his bucket list before he leaves. word count: 3800+ notes: Part 3 of DTF Only. I've never written anything Reiner-centric. Ngl, he was probably the hardest to write. Hope you Reiner fans still enjoy! warnings: smut, explicit content, explicit language, oral sex (m! receiving), light bondage, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, praise kink ☻ masterpost☻

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ !!

There’s something wholesome about Reiner.

His pictures range from pristine, professional, and candid. No shirtless, Myspace bathroom shots. No gym selfies. No pictures of him doing a manspread. No thirst traps. Just him at a wedding, on a hike, at a coffee shop, and—aww he’s got a dog!

His profile also is very innocuous.

He added his alma mater, the same as yours, much to your surprise, works in civil engineering, a self-proclaimed coffee snob and today happens to be his last day in town.

How’s it going? Still looking for the best coffee in the city. Got any recommendations?

You send out your reply for your favorite small café in the area. A hole in the wall, tucked away in the business district. The same corner that has five other chain coffee-shops, and it’s also within walking distance from where Reiner is staying.

Appreciate it! Can I buy you a cup as thanks? 😁

Smooth, you think, and again wholesome. Of course, for a guy to be active on Tinder while out of town, you already know what he’s in search for. And yet, another scroll through his photos makes you rethink that. He just seems so…wholesome. You hate to admit it, but he’s almost like Colt.

You accept the offer anyways and get ready.

Your phone buzzes back-to-back and you swipe it up to read your friends’ message regarding Reiner, beginning with Pieck’s first thoughts.

He’s pretty cute. I love the pictures with his puppy 🐶🥹

Then comes Ymir’s response.

Homie is performing…

Elaborate

Bless Ymir for being quick and brief, enough to get the message across for you.

He’s got a freaky side to him. If you catch my drift 😏

You can only hope that he does because the vibe you’re getting from him is tame—wholesome. You may as well charge up your vibrator for tonight.

The more wholesome they appear, the more they have to hide.

I don’t know… He asked to grab coffee, that’s as tame as it gets. He might just want to talk, maybe flirt a little.

In an instant your phone rings and you pick it up, not bothering with a greeting as Ymir’s already in your ear.

“Have you learned nothing from your romp with Pock yesterday?”

You sigh. “His name was Porco…”

“Whatever, the new guy says he’s from out of town. In Tinder-verse that means ‘I’m in town to fuck around’.”

Of course, you knew that, but—

“But nothing. What did I say about the blockhead yesterday? Bar, coffee, funeral, it won’t matter. Get your kicks in while the man’s still available. He’ll be quick to show you his true nature, and knowing the freak that you are, you’re going to like it.”

Maybe. Or it could be wishful thinking. Again, you can only hope.

......

He’s already outside when you arrive. He had the head start after all, but it’s not a long wait since you’re not too far from the area either.

From afar, he recognizes you, looking up with a warm smile, hands tucked into his pockets. At your approach, his smile brightens, freeing his hands with open arms, saying your name.

“Hi, thanks for swinging by!”

Breathing a laugh, you’re engulfed in his arms. It’s a warm embrace, lighthearted, like you’re meeting a friend. In any case, your vibrator should be fully charged tonight.

“I’m a hugger, hope that’s okay,” he says when he lets you go, pink tinting his cheeks.

He’s taller than Porco by a lot (and another blond, which you overlook). Also well-built, distinguishable underneath the button-down white shirt. The sleeves are rolled up like he’s just clocked out of the office.

A strong, chiseled jawline and some facial hair that suggests he’s gone a few days without shaving. But the standout to you is his smile. Warm, inviting, friendly. There’s got to be something hidden away there.

“I like hugging,” you say. “Ready to try out the best coffee in the city?”

Reiner opens the door for you, beaming.

After giving him a recommendation from the menu, you both place your order. There’s an awkward moment where you lightheartedly argue about the bill, but Reiner wins your favor, insisting that it’s his treat.

Together you grab a table in the corner after your drinks are prepared.

Rush hour brings in more commuters and students from the university across the city, and soon the café is teeming with life.

You finally take a sip after your coffee has cooled down, looking over at Reiner. “What’s the verdict?”

Reiner nods, licking his lips. “You’re right, premium roast. Five out of five.”

Your brows rise. “That’s generous. There’s no way you’re a coffee snob if you’re won over that easily.”

He shrugs, chuckling. “Well, a pretty face might have something to do with the perfect score.” He averts his eyes, scratching at the back of his neck.

He’s nice. Again, sort of reminds you of Colt, but that’s not a bad thing. While you’re not looking for a relationship, you appreciate Reiner’s friendly demeanor and his subtle way of flirting.

You chat and sip your coffee. And despite your dubiety with Reiner’s high ranking, he really does seem to enjoy his drink; taking hearty gulps until he sets it down empty before you’ve gotten halfway. He’s sincere too.

You bring up university, sharing that you’ve both moved away for your careers post-grad. “We might have crossed paths before.”

“Small world,” he laughs. “I guess you find anyone on Tinder. It brings people together in a way. I visited my hometown last month and I was surprised to see some classmates from middle-school on it.”

“So, was this a work trip?”

Reiner hums, giving his outfit a onceover. “It is. I visit a few construction sites a month and sometimes they take me in other cities. I had a meeting today and even though it’s a blue-collar profession, it never hurts to suit up. But…”

His eyes turn wistful for a moment, entering a thought that you can’t read.

You don’t probe him, expecting him to say something, so you finish up your coffee in time when he speaks again.

“I was hoping to cross one thing off my list before I leave.”

Your attention perks, not from the words, but from the lowered tone. “Is it too late? Whatever it is?”

Reiner lifts a brow, and it’s clear that you’ve given him the green light to divulge a little more.

To those around you, his expression remains the same, but you notice a change. His hushed tone, the slow clench of his fist on the table.

“This is forward of me,” he begins, leaning closer.

Like a magnet, you lean in, hanging off his next words that fall into your ear.

“I was hoping to have some privacy with you after coffee.”

His warmth breath makes your pulse stutter, spreading warmth to your ears.

You pull back a little, gaze captured by his light brown eyes. You swallow and nod.

A faint smirk pulls at Reiner’s lips, though he’s yet to make a motion to move. “To be sure, are you okay if we get out of here?”

The sly look he gives you has your mind spinning back to your initial impression of him. Wholesome, yes, but now you’re eager to see the other side to him.

You raise your chin, giving him a coy smile. “I’m sure.”

Reiner jerks his head to the side, the two of you rise to your feet, tossing away the coffee cups and leave.

Dusk has settled now and soon it’ll be much darker. The timing could not be better.

Reiner offers you his arm, a bold move you think, and with a racing heart, you take it.

“Where to?”

He walks at a reasonable pace, not in a hurry unlike the civilians scattering around the sidewalks to head home before it gets too dark.

“My hotel is a few blocks away.” He looks down, wearing the same poised smirk. It makes your heart skip a beat, and you want to drag him off.

You hold back, allowing Reiner to take the reins.

Heated glances only are exchanged during the walk, and you can hardly hear the traffic of the city against the rush of blood in your ears.

Approaching the hotel, your world spins through the revolving doors. You take a moment to admire the lobby, realizing that Reiner is staying at one of the city’s finest accommodations. Like everything you had gathered about him beforehand, you had seen him as more of a low-maintenance man.

Every inch is ornate with vintage touches, well-maintained, it’s like you’ve been thrust into a time capsule. You get a glimpse of the bar at the center past a massive piano that’s untouched at the moment.

Hotel guests bustle around in business suits and others in luxury outfits that drip with dollar bills.

The journey up the lift is also quiet, but the sexual tension is so deafening, you’re grateful when you arrive at Reiner’s floor.

With his card key, the door to his room opens. Like the rest of the hotel, it’s nice, lux with a view that overlooks other buildings on the street.

But it’s the massive bed that you’re already envisioning rolling around in, and you have to tell yourself to remain patient.

Reiner’s hands find your shoulders, nimble fingers easing the muscles there. “Finally, some privacy.” He murmurs into your temple, kissing you there.

You melt to his touch, muscles melting like clay from his warmth, a moan slips out.

“That feels nice, doesn’t it?”

You can only manage a hum in agreement, eyes fluttering shut to soak in the massage.

Two fingers push deeper into the junction between your shoulder and neck with delicious pressure. You throw your head back against Reiner’s chest.

He chuckles as you open your eyes, meeting his upside-down gaze.

“Now that we’re all alone,” he says, turning you around and takes your chin.

The bitter taste of coffee is heavy on his tongue, but you don’t mind. It’s warm, inviting, like Reiner’s energy.

It’s a stretch to reach him, but your arms snake around his neck, basking in the slow, seductive rhythm of his lips and tongue.

His hand slides down to the small of your back, pulling you closer with a firm yet delicate authority. And when he pulls away, it’s smooth like silk.

“Before we take this any further,” he says. “I wanted to elaborate on what was on my bucket list.”

You tilt your head, licking the moisture from your lips. There’s more? You had only expected a quick hook-up.

Your mind dives into another scenario, one where you’re chopped up and stuffed into a freezer. Thankfully, Pieck and Ymir always have your location so that alone shoves that lurid idea aside.

Reiner lets go, and you hear the zip of a bag.

He had wandered over to where his luggage rests on the rack by the TV. He throws a look over his shoulder, a little hesitant.

You smile to encourage him, and your eyes go wide when you see what he pulls out. You swallow hard, a shiver moving past you as every drop of your blood heads south.

Not rope or tape or a knife. But a blindfold and handcuffs. Accessories that could be used to kidnap you, but from the silk of the blindfold and the leather cuffs, you know it’s not that.

“Oh,” it falls out of you.

Reiner comes closer, offering the accessories for you to feel. “The cuffs can feel snug, but they won’t hurt you.”

Your pulse reignites. “These will be used on me?”

Reiner nods. “If you’re okay with that.”

You’re more than okay with that. A memory of the past pricks your brain.

It was a rare night where you and Colt decided to watch porn, and the choice was bondage. Seeing one of the actors tied up and blindfolded had inspired a fantasy to be at Colt’s mercy. But he never seemed enthused about the idea, so it became one of your many fantasies you had packed away.

“We can also do without,” Reiner says at your silence.

“You want to do this, though.”

A shadow hangs over Reiner’s voice. “I do. I like to play dominant. I’m not mean, unless you want me to be, but I prefer to play nice dominant.”

It sounds like an oxymoron to you, and yet it seems to fit Reiner’s personality. A man who likes to be in control whilst retaining that warm demeanor.

“Okay.”

It’s slow and gradual. You both undress each other with dexterous hands with Reiner taking most of the reins. The second you’re both bare, he awaits your consent one more time before he binds your wrists.

The leather is stiff but otherwise not too tight, and your hands hang to your stomach. Next, he drapes the blindfold over your eyes and the world goes dark.

The moment passes like grains of sand. Unable to see, you don’t move, straining your ears for any semblance of noise.

Fingertips brush beneath your jaw while a thumb caresses your lips.

“I’m going to use this.” Reiner’s voice slips through the silence. His thumb swipes at your bottom lip, wetting the pad of his thumb.

You can feel the heat from his body that pools at the center of your thighs. Your fingers curl around your pussy.

A firm grasp takes your jaw, puckering your lips.

“I didn’t give you permission to touch yourself.” The command is soft, but you can feel the teeth in his words. “The only person who will give you pleasure tonight, is me.”

You nearly falter from that promise.

Before that can happen, Reiner drops his hand, and your feet leave the floor.

You’re laid on your back, head at the edge of the bed. Another inch and your head would be hanging.

Seconds later, Reiner’s warm body approaches your face, his voice tumbling down. “As I was saying. I’m going to use your mouth.” His tone is softer, and the brush of his fingers stroke your lips again.

Despite the position, you nod.

“Atta girl.”

The praise takes you by surprise and you shiver.

“If you need me to stop, raise your hand and snap. Got it?”

You nod, licking your lips when he praises you again. And without being instructed, you slide forward, draping your head back and open your mouth.

Reiner chuckles, seemingly catching on. The brush of his fingers returns along your face and he croons. “Good girl…”

There’s a nudge on your tongue, salty from Reiner’s precum. He goes in slowly, you take a deep breath through your nostrils.

The last time you had given head like this before was back in university, long before Colt.

It does require some getting used to. Your chest heaves with the tension, easing up as Reiner whispers of encouragement, a rush of heat dripping between your legs.

You acclimate to Reiner’s cock, thick in your mouth, you don’t feel the blood creeping into your head.

“Good, good.” There’s a strain to Reiner’s voice, like he’s holding back a deep urge to fuck you.

And you’re right, because his dick twitches in your mouth.

You hum around it, spreading your legs wider when you feel Reiner’s hand stroke your pussy.

“A little reward for how good you’re doing for me so far.”

Your moan muffles from the touch and the added praise, you don’t think you can get enough. You’re so wet already, it’s not a matter of effort of working you up to finger you. He spoils you with two and a swipe of your clit.

His dick twitches again as you continue to moan, clenching around his fingers.

Drool gathers in your mouth, so close to dripping out. On impulse you suck, an attempt to gulp it down and Reiner groans, pressing down on your clit.

“You’re making it hard for me,” he husks, and you feel the loss of his hand. “I’m going to fuck your mouth first, okay?”

Gagged, the best you can reply is a strangled, “Mhm.”

He pulls out, dick coated in your saliva. You inhale deeply, still blind to the world around you.

You’re pushed a back on the bed a little, head repositioned before you’re stuffed with Reiner’s dick again.

He thrusts, building a pace that you become accustomed to.

Breathing through your nose and relaxing your throat, your gag reflex is dormant. You focus on the noises Reiner makes, light grunts dropping on you like the pitter patter of rain, punctuated with hitch in his chest that syncs up with another spasm in his cock.

“Fuck—your mouth is so warm. This throat is doing so good for me, an obedient thing.”

Saliva collects in your mouth again, pooling at a fast rate as Reiner fucks you with vigor.

Wrists still bound, you ache to touch yourself as much as you fantasize what Reiner’s face must look like at this moment. A deep flush along his face, light brown eyes rolling back in his skull. You find yourself moaning at that and Reiner releases a strangled noise, pulling out.

Threads of saliva pull from your mouth and fall down the corners of your lips.

A hand takes the back of your skull, urging you off your back.

You breathe deeply, sucking a lungful of air as you sit on the bed. When Reiner’s touch disappears, you turn your head, forgetting the blindfold is obscuring your vision.

“Just a moment,” you hear him say somewhere in the room.

The moment passes and he speaks again, instructing you to move along the bed.

You follow Reiner’s voice, an implicit trust for a stranger you only met a few hours ago guiding you where you think will be into his arms. If Reiner had come across as a lunatic, this would be your fatal mistake.

Thankfully, according to your female intuition, he’s not, and if he is, Ymir and Pieck aren’t very forgiving when something happens to their best friend.

The bed is so massive, you feel as though you’ll be moving along silk for ages.

“Right there,” Reiner says, and you go still, knees dipping into the mattress. His voice is closer than before and relying on your other senses, you feel him closer too.

The sheets rustle close by your feet, signaling his presence in time when his strong chest meets your back.

“Right here,” he husks at your temple, wrapping his arm along your stomach. “All wrapped up too.”

You don’t know why you nod, but you do to convey your thanks for him remembering a condom.

The weight of his body presses into your back. With his guidance, your thighs ghost over what you assume is his.

You crane your head for more instruction.

“Perfect.” He noses your neck, kissing softly, hand coming around to tweak your nipple.

You gasp from the sensation, close to reaching up to keep his hands on your breast, but the bite of leather keeps you from moving.

“You’ve been so good for me. Now, let me fuck you on this bed.”

You toss your head back, squirming at the dip of his fingers into your pussy.

“So, fucking wet…all from sucking cock. Filthy little thing.” He kisses the shell of your ear. “Just how I want you to be. Are you ready for me? Use your words this time.”

“Yes,” you breathe. “Yes, please.”

“Give me a safe a word,” he commands.

“Helos.”

Reiner’s laughter scorches your ear. You’re too worked up to be embarrassed about it. With your mind like putty, the first word that sprang up was the name of the hotel.

“Use it if you need me to stop, okay?”

You nod eagerly.

“Good girl.” Reiner’s hands find your hips and he lifts you up a little and there’s a poke at your entrance as he lines up his dick.

In a slow fluid motion, he seats you there. Inch by inch, your pussy twitches to suck him in.

“Almost there.”

You know he’s sheathed fully when your ass is back on his lap, giving you a minute to adjust. To let him know you’re ready, you roll your hips back.

Lips press into your nape. “Remember the safe word.”

He thrusts up, hiking you up on your knees using his muscled thighs to create the momentum.

His hot breath burns your neck, one hand groping your breast and the other flicking your clit. In sync, you move up and down with his body fucking you.

The lack of sight dials up your other senses. You feel him deeply, the stretch, the bruising pain blooming around your breast, and the nerves in your center so sensitive, stars flicker along your darkened vision.

Reiner moves faster, fucking into you harder. “Do you like that? Like when I get a little rough?” He jerks his hips up.

You babble something resembling a ‘yes, engulfed in the heightened sensory experience. “Reiner…”

“I can feel you,” he pants. “You want to cum huh? Cum for me, baby.”

He rubs you faster, fucking into you harder and your back arches into him, moaning out the rush of your orgasm, eyesight restored momentarily with a burst of light.

“Atta girl,” Reiner rasps. “Atta girl, cumming on command.” He thrusts a few more times as your vision fills with darkness again and you float back to the bed after reaching the clouds.

You sag into his hold, Reiner pulls out. You yelp in surprise when you’re thrown forward.

You’re brought back to your knees, hips hoisted up while a pressure on your skull, keeps your head on the mattress.

You feel another stretch, welcoming Reiner’s cock as he slips back in and drills into you with fervor, a pace that promises his release is on the horizon.

A sting blooms on your ass from where Reiner’s hand landed.

“Fuck—I’m so close—” Another smack lands, followed by the gentle caress of Reiner’s large hand, a contrast to the rhythm that’s quickly becoming sloppy.

With both hands, you feel Reiner spread you open. He snaps his hips a couple more times and groans out as he cums.

He goes still, but his dick twitches inside of you and if not for the condom, you’d feel the warmth of his cum filling you up.

For a while, you hear ragged breaths, his and yours.

After, Reiner pulls out and you whine from the empty feeling but relieved when he takes lifts you back to your knees, easing the ache in your back.

The blindfold falls away. Blinking a few times to get a visual, Reiner kneeling on the mattress before you, undoing the cuffs.

He looks dazed. Heavy breathes pouring past his lips, a sheen of sweat layered atop the flush on his cheeks. A muscled chest rising and falling, flexing the contours in his stomach, and his dick soft yet endowed between his thighs.

With the cuffs off, you roll your wrists, smiling up at him.

He gives you a tired smile in return. “Appreciate you.”

The praise fills you with a different kind of warmth, but it’s endearing, nonetheless. There’s no need to ask, you already know. If anything, you’re both even. He crossed something off his list, as did you.

☻ masterpost☻ taglist: @moonmalice @daisynik7

#reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #reiner braun x you #reiner x you #reiner x reader #reiner #reiner smut #attack on titan fanfiction #snk #snk smut #attack on titan #mochi-writings #dtf only series

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 8 months

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i’ll go see you again tomorrow (spring is coming to an end) ; sashisu

[ part i - spring ; satoru gojo ]

synopsis; a snippet of the spring you share with a certain satoru gojo, who seems intent on making your high school life as difficult as possible.

word count; 5.9k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, enemies to friends but the ’enemy’ part is kinda one-sided, wholesome n sweet overall, no curses au, gojo doesn’t know how to make friends and thinks lighthearted bullying constitutes as a bonding activity, reader doesn’t like gojo at first but dw they see the light eventually

a/n; the shoujo manga vibes are v heavy w/ this part i think. high school gojo was born to shoujo but forced to shounen </3

satoru gojo is annoying.

blunt as it may seem, it’s a conclusion you reach fairly quickly. when you first met him, you weren’t sure what to think, what to feel — a deliberate choice, on his part. looking back on it now, that’s the conclusion you come to.

he wanted to appear unreadable. purposefully hiding his personality and mannerisms, to gain the upper hand. observing all of you, dissecting you inside his mind, while revealing nothing about himself apart from his name. it’s a kind of power, a safety measure.

not like it lasted very long, though.

evidently, holding back isn’t exactly gojo’s forte. after only a day or two, he began to show his true colours, having gotten more accustomed to the new environment and classmates — and with the revelation of his genuine personality, your unease around him festered even more.

where do you even begin to describe him? he’s childish, for one. and cocky. loud, arrogant. selfish and flamboyant. just generally an asshole. you could go on and on; none of the traits are particularly flattering, and you know he couldn’t care less.

gojo is annoying, plain and simple. almost constantly trying to pick a fight with someone, uninterested in manners or even common courtesy. he says what he feels, regardless of how other people take it.

to put it simply, he has no regard for the people around him. his self-interest is limitless.

gojo does have a certain presence, though. a kind of charisma, or what you think could become charisma, if he’d just get off that high horse already. he won’t, though — you know he won’t. he revels in it, in looking down on everything and everyone, annoyingly boisterous and irritatingly tall.

most frustrating of all, however, is that his unbridled confidence isn’t exactly unwarranted.

as much as it pains you to say it, gojo is maybe just a little bit incredible. a natural-born genius, even. he’s intelligent, and observant, and awfully pretty, with those blue eyes and that snowy hair.

and he has no issue in getting what he wants. none whatsoever.

there’s something admirable about it, in a twisted way — it’s almost like he doesn’t even need to try. he’s good at anything, if he just gives it a single chance. evidently, he’s never once given a chance to the prospect of being a decent guy, then.

effortlessly perfect, in the most imperfect of ways. that’s probably how you’d describe him.

annoying is still the most fitting word, though, undoubtedly. or maybe obnoxious. he’s got this spoiled rich kid vibe that irks you, gets under your skin. you doubt he’s ever had to empathize with anyone else in his entire life.

really, you don’t understand how geto can put up with him.

gojo said something to him, during your first week of school. what, you aren’t sure — probably some rude, untoward comment, something taunting. shoko told you about it, but you don’t know the details.

what you do know is that they fought about it, physically. and that ever since then, they’ve been on a first-name basis, attached at the hip. it’s not often you see one of the two without the other. evidently, the fight brought them closer. you think they must be at least a little bit insane, but maybe that’s to be expected of kids who’d choose some weird boarding school in the middle of nowhere over a more orthodox choice.

(not like you’re one to talk, though.)

geto is a little better than his best friend, at least. he’s polite, and relaxed, and easy to talk to, only ever annoying when gojo’s around. you don’t know how he manages to put up with him so well, but you get the sense that he’s the only one who really understands gojo. the only one who even tries to.

you haven’t even attempted to do so, yourself. fondness wasn’t something you held for him, from the very beginning, but every interaction between the two of you only serves to make him more and more insufferable in your eyes.

gojo is annoying to basically everyone, always teasing and taunting, looking down from that high horse of his. and you’re certainly no exception — if anything, he’s even worse with you.

you know he looks down on you, from behind those tacky sunglasses. you’re not as self-assured as your classmates, and you think he must have sensed it, the moment he laid eyes on you. that you’re a little meek, a bit of a doormat, easy to push around and get a rise out of. maybe he also noticed your apprehension towards him, your apparent unease.

you’re easy prey, to put it simply.

so as soon as introductions were over, gojo immediately began to push at your buttons. grinning in that cocky fashion, not bothering to hide what he thought of you in the slightest. the first words that came out of his mouth when he spoke to you were rude ones, but you can’t quite recall them, muddled together with every other unneeded comment that he’s thrown your way since.

his behavior hasn’t gotten better, even in the slightest. gojo is always teasing you, annoying you, trying to figure out what makes you tick. almost like he’s solving an equation — the equation being you, the limit of your patience.

evidently, he’s developed a fondness for getting under your skin; it’s your own fault, really, for giving him what he wants. a scoff, a roll of your eyes, an earnest fuck right off. if you were more like shoko or geto, then maybe he’d leave you alone — if you could just brush him off, ignore him, not give him the time of day. deny him one of those reactions he loves so much.

but you’re not shoko. and you’re not geto, either. you’re you, and you’ve always been particularly bad at hiding what you feel.

it’s not like you hate him, or anything. you really have tried to get along with him. but it’s impossible, at the end of the day. gojo is just too good at being annoying.

and, more than anything, he’s far too out of reach. you can state his negative traits without a hitch, as well as his begrudgingly positive ones, but all of them are surface level when you get down to it. in truth, you don’t understand satoru gojo at all.

and that suits you just fine.

you’re just gonna have to live with it. live with him, his presence in your life, disrupting what should have been your peaceful high school years. your new start.

it sucks, but you’ve already resigned yourself to it. having to deal with him every day is annoying, yes, but what can you do? at least you get along well enough with shoko and geto. at this point, you’ve decided to treat gojo like an annoying little toddler, or an irritating pest. someone to put up with, not take seriously.

for a pest, he’s awfully good at making you angry, though. you can never seem to maintain your composure, when he’s around. it’s not always a bad thing — the banter can be funny, sometimes. just a tiny bit. doesn’t make it any less infuriating, though.

and in the state you’re currently in, you doubt you could handle it without popping a blood vessel or two.

a heavy sigh flows from your parted lips, as you examine your blurry reflection in the mirror. fatigue clings to your skin like a layer of sweat, and your mind is muddled, stuffed with anxious thoughts you’d rather not be having.

you feel thoroughly exhausted, completely spent. and the day’s barely begun. you didn’t get a wink of sleep last night, unable to slip into sleep’s embrace without being awoken by an abrupt nightmare.

and it’s painfully evident. in your face, your posture. in the paleness of your skin, only making your vague eyebags more noticeable, and in the way you can’t help but drag your legs slightly as you walk. in your disheveled hair, in every sigh and grumble you let slip as you try to blink the exhaustion away. you just feel so tired, both physically and mentally.

it could be worse, though. you don’t have any classes today, at the very least. it would’ve been an actual nightmare, in the state you’re currently in; having to stay up, take notes and listen to yaga drone on and on. you like your teacher, you really do, but sometimes his lectures can be just a little bit tedious.

the only reason you even bother to leave your dorm at all, in such a restless state, is so you can grab some breakfast. if you’re lucky, maybe it’ll make you feel a little less like a walking train wreck.

with that thought in mind, you make your way to the dormitory’s shared kitchen, enjoying the sight of the cherry blossoms through the windows you pass.

you’ll manage, somehow. your morning couldn’t possibly get any worse, after all.

when you enter the space, you’re relieved to find it completely devoid of people. no shoko, no geto, or even gojo. running into the first two wouldn’t be the end of the world, but it still wouldn’t be ideal. you don’t really want anyone seeing you like this — tired, meek, somewhat vulnerable.

least of all gojo. you shiver at the bare thought.

with laboured, groggy movements, you move around the kitchen, getting cups and plates and turning on the coffee machine. the sizzling of the pan creates a soothing melody, pleasant to your ears, as you quickly make a lazy breakfast to wolf down.

when it’s finished, you waste no time in taking a seat by one of the tables; eager to enjoy the peace and quiet, at last.

but, as always, the world seems to have it out for you specifically.

”oh? well, look who it is. and here i thought you had left, too.”

you stiffen. ever so slightly, barely noticeable, but still enough that you physically feel the dread envelop every single cell of your body. the voice that echoes across the open space is a chipper one. one you recognize. one you were desperately hoping not to hear today.

inwardly wincing, all you can do is continue to idly sip from your cup of coffee, silently going through all five stages of grief before accepting your unfortunate predicament.

that’s just your luck, isn’t it?

resigned to the sight you know you’ll see when you raise your head, you do just that — and, lo and behold, there he is.

gojo looks the same as always. grinning brightly, wearing those ugly sunglasses, making his way across the room like he owns it. a trait you can’t help but admire, envy, as he plops down next to you like it’s nothing. unconcerned about you or your concept of personal space.

”whatcha up to?” he chirps, in a sugar sweet tone, layered over with a boyish kind of excitement. there’s that teasing tilt of his, too, the one that always accompanies his voice when he’s speaking to you.

usually, hearing him speak in such an irritating fashion would’ve put you off. maybe you would’ve given him an apprehensive look, or tried to sound unbothered when answering his inquiry — that usually only makes him more intent on annoying you, but you just never seem to learn.

in your current state, though, you can’t muster up anything of the sort. you’re too tired, too anxious. you just want to sleep.

and yet, despite your best wishes, here he is; satoru gojo, in all his glory, ruining your hopes of what could have been a peaceful breakfast. you can’t even bring yourself to get mad. today, you just don’t have the energy to deal with him at all.

when you glance his way, your eyes meet, for a second — not like you can actually see them, from behind his sunglasses, but you know they’re there. menacing and uncanny. bright and excited.

you allow your gaze to linger at him for a brief moment, before trailing back to your plate. ”morning,” is all you manage to mutter, before taking a tentative bite of your sandwich.

gojo blinks.

he immediately notes that your voice sounds meek. even more so than usual. and it’s a little confusing — he expected you to give him a scoff, or even just a timid huff. but no such luck. you’re just sitting there, quiet, curling into yourself.

so, after a moment’s consideration, gojo opts to look at you. to really look at you, studying your face, the way your fingers move to curl around the ceramic handle of your cup. he’s always been observant, but it doesn’t take a genius to see that you’re tired.

you look out of it, plain and simple. eyes unfocused as you stare into space. gojo is silent for no more than a mere moment, contemplating his next course of action. he’s never seen you like this, before.

did something happen?

— well, it doesn’t matter. not his problem.

”you look like a zombie,” he grins, teasingly, showing off the white of his teeth.

despite the oddity of your behavior, he can’t hold it back — despite his own intuition, telling him to let you be. he can’t help it. you’re just too fun to tease.

suguru or shoko just raise their eyebrows at him, or stare him down like a misbehaving dog — but you always have a good reaction to give. something to entertain him when he’s bored, or something to distract him when his mind is too full of noise.

so he can’t help but tease you, a little. hoping it’ll soothe the restlessness in his chest.

— but for once, what gojo expects isn’t what he gets.

he expects you to glare at him, or tell him to leave you alone, or even just sigh in exasperation. either one would be fine. it’s just mindless enjoyment, to him, a little fun to lighten up his day.

especially now, when suguru is away on some day trip he wasn’t privy to. traitor, is all he can think. and shoko is nowhere to be seen, either. probably off smoking in some random alleyway, listening to one of her weird indie bands.

the whole dorm is so eerily quiet.

(gojo would never admit it, not in a thousand years, but maybe it’d be just a little bit lonely without any of you around.)

for a while, he assumed he’d have to spend the whole day alone. but then he entered the kitchen, and lo and behold; there you were, his saving grace. his dear old irritable little classmate.

a great relief overtook him, when he set his sights on you. oh, thank god — he thought he was going to die of boredom. but with you at school, too, his day is saved. now he can push your buttons to his heart’s content, bask in your playful banter until suguru gets back.

— only this time, you don’t react at all.

you don’t give him what he expects, don’t indulge his little antics, in the way he’s grown so accustomed to. all you do is continue to eat your breakfast, and drink your coffee, in silence. intent on gulping it all down quickly, so you can leave.

gojo’s words aren’t even irritating to you, right now. barely even a hassle. you honestly can’t be bothered with him at all; he can say what he wants, you don’t care. even mustering up the energy to get annoyed feels like too much for your sleep-deprived brain.

gojo waits, for just a couple moments more. hoping for a delayed reaction, a witty counter, a snarky comment. anything.

but it never comes.

finally, he starts to sulk. ever so slightly, slumping against the leather seat behind him, quieting down with a low huff. furrowing his brows as his lips curl down into a soft pout.

god — just what is your problem? what is with you, today? it’s no fun if you don’t play along.

gojo can’t help but grumble a little, under his breath. you’re usually so responsive, so easy to rile up. so what’s wrong? why are you just sitting there?

whatever. he doesn’t care. not even a little bit. so what if you’re not talking to him? like he cares enough to be bothered by it. gojo has better things to do, bigger fish to fry. he wasn’t even that excited, when he saw you. the thought of bantering with you didn’t lift his spirits, even in the slightest. not one bit.

(he hadn’t realized he’d begun to look forward to your interactions so much.)

but, really — come on. would it take so much effort to just say something? to just respond to his friendly little quip? you can’t possibly be that tired.

or what, did you get insecure, or something? because he called you a zombie? no way. you’re not that sensitive. right? or is that it? what a hassle.

you know he’s just messing with you. so why are you acting so….

(sad, gojo wants to think, but he buries the thought before it has a chance to reach his frontal cortex. he doesn’t want to empathize with you. that’d just be too troublesome.)

nonetheless, a strange frustration bubbles up in his chest. at your lack of reaction, the weak glint in your eyes. he just doesn’t understand why — and that frustrates him even more.

why can’t you just bite back, like always?

it’s fun when you do.

the silence lingers on, stretching out as you gulp down your food while gojo keeps on sulking. he’s still just sitting beside you, waiting for something to happen. he briefly considers getting up and leaving, or saying something annoying to hopefully spur you on —

but you stand up before he can convince himself to go through with either option.

having finished your breakfast, your legs carry you to the sink. finally, you can head back to your room. gojo’s being weirdly quiet, you can’t help but notice; it’s kind of hard not to, with how loud he usually is.

but you pay no mind to it, methodically washing your dishes in silence. deciding not to dwell on it. it’s a rare opportunity, after all, one you’d be foolish not to enjoy it while it lasts. you don’t bother saying goodbye to him, either, as he sits there. still deep in thought and grumbling curses under his breath.

he watches you as you leave, gaze trailing after your form until you’re completely out of sight.

then he lays down, flat on his back, with a frustrated huff. trying desperately to brush away the memory of your dim eyes, the slight frown on your lips. the dark circles under your eyes, that he tried not to notice because they made him feel so weirdly uncomfortable. the meek look you gave him.

gojo sighs.

(he feels just a tiny, tiny bit bad.)

when you wake up from your slumber, you immediately note that your body feels lighter.

no nightmares came to haunt you, this time. you practically collapsed once your head hit the pillow, finally giving you some peace of mind, and some well needed rest. maybe having breakfast really did help.

with a groan, you lazily stretch out your limbs, gaze falling on the clock on your wall. you’ve only been asleep for about two hours, or so, but it’s more than you got last night.

what to do, what to do. you still have the whole day ahead of you. another nap wouldn’t hurt, but you don’t want to waste your precious free time by just rotting in bed. maybe you can take a walk around the schoolyard? the cherry blossoms have started to unfurl, and it’s a beautiful sight — perfect to enjoy on a day like this, framed by the blue of the sky.

it’s a pleasing mental image. enough to have you changing into some light and comfortable clothes, intent on seeing the idea through, before you reach a hand out to push the door open.

as you do so, something is knocked over.

a soft little thud, accompanied by the sensation of collision between the door and something else. that’s all you hear, all you feel.

with a low curiosity simmering in your eyes, you exit the room, eagerly peeking around for a look at the mysterious something.

as you do so, your gaze falls on something pink.

it’s tiny, awfully out of place as it lays on the floor. crouching down to examine it further, you recognize it immediately; a small carton of strawberry milk, with a plastic straw plastered on its side. one of the items sold in the schoolyard’s vending machines.

you drink it fairly often, every time you need a small pick-me-up. the sweet taste always succeeds in soothing your spirits.

and it was sitting right outside your door.

you stare at it in contemplation, holding it in your hand as the gears turn silently in your head. that’s weird. did someone drop it? no, that’s dumb — who’d drop it right outside your door and then not pick it up?

did someone leave it for you, then? because they know you like it? that could be it, maybe, but who would —

….

your mind stills.

the idea is odd, to say the very least. so odd that a part of you doesn’t even want to entertain it. but despite your inherent denial, it’s the most reasonable conclusion to arrive at. after all, neither shoko nor geto are there — and that just leaves one possible culprit.

why would he do something like that, though? he doesn’t like you, you know that. so there’s no way — right?

… then again, you have seen him drink it. both of you seem to like it, contrary to your classmates; shoko doesn’t like sweet things in general, and geto doesn’t go for strawberry milk if he can choose something else. honestly, it might be the only thing you and gojo have in common, the one thing that binds you two together. a single carton of strawberry milk. it’s almost comical.

(you wonder why he did it, if it’s really true. you wonder if he noticed that you were feeling under the weather, and figured it’d make you happy.

you wonder if it’d be foolish of you to believe that it’s true, if only because you like the idea.)

your feet move on their own, before your mind has a chance to question the decision. where could he be, you wonder? in the kitchen? in his dorm?

just as the question enters your subconscious, a flash of white crosses your vision. as you absently glance out the window, you see it; white, soft hair, like a fluffy cloud in the midst of all the pink petals fluttering about.

you stop, and then begin walking once more. with more decision.

gojo is sitting right outside the dormitory, on a wooden bench, legs swinging as he gazes up at the sky. his hair sways slightly with the breeze, soft strands moving and caressing his skin.

the air is filled with pink petals, gracefully descending down to the ground, together with a trail of bubbles. gojo is blowing them, haphazardly, following their movement with his keen eyes. they glimmer in the sunlight, reflecting all shades of the rainbow.

the sight is just a little bit breathtaking.

the ground crunches beneath your feet, when you take a step forward — and gojo turns towards you. you stiffen like a deer in headlights. it was almost on impulse that you walked over to him, but now that you’re face to face, it’s a little nerve-racking.

still, it’s far too late to back out now. there’s not much to do except join him. so that’s exactly what you eventually do, albeit a little hesitantly.

attempting to ignore his continuous stare, burning into the side of your head, you plop down beside him. an uncomfortable silence lingers in the air around you both, as he waits for you to say something.

mustering up the courage to do so is tough, though. the decisiveness you felt when you decided to go see him has faded, now only the ghost of a sensation — you’re somewhat nervous to verbalize what was on your mind when you made the decision.

but eventually, you force yourself to speak. hoping you won’t come to regret it.

”… hey, gojo?” you start, softly, not looking at him. gaze glued on the cherry trees. but you know his eyes are still on you; you can feel them, and their weight.

the carton of strawberry milk is in your right hand, and you raise it up, faintly. to get his attention. then you look over at him, not quite managing to give him a smile, but you try your best to look somewhat appreciative.

”thanks.”

a confused blink. gojo looks down the strawberry milk, and then back at you. eyelashes fluttering.

a moment passes. then he turns his head away, swiftly. his hair is tousled by the movement, a couple pink petals stuck between the soft strands. you can’t see his face anymore.

”i don’t know what you mean,” he huffs, with a voice you’ve never heard from him. he sounds almost embarrassed.

upon closer inspection, you think the tips of his ears may be just slightly red. a smile finds its way onto your lips, unbeknownst to you — like this, he’s actually kind of cute. denying your implication, when it’s so obvious.

some part of you was still a little unsure, but gojo’s embarrassment basically confirms it.

(maybe he’s not as bad as you thought.)

cherry blossoms flutter in the wind, dancing joyously, without a care in the world. a spring breeze ruffles gojo’s hair, as he sits beside you, having begun to blow bubbles again. not saying a word, and looking straight ahead. but can’t help but stare at him, a little.

you find yourself thinking that he looks right at home, among the petals. they’re fleeting, hard to get a grasp on. pretty, and so out of reach, despite being so close.

you could reach over and touch him right now, if you wanted to. you could reach for his sunglasses, lift them off his face, and finally see those eyes he’s so intent on hiding. you could see him, see straight into his soul, and find out who he really is.

you won’t, though. some boundaries aren’t meant to be so callously crossed.

instead, you puncture the pink carton in your hand with the plastic straw, and take a tentative sip. the sweet taste soothes you almost immediately; you can’t help but sigh, softly, relaxing a little further. it’s absolutely perfect, for this kind of weather. the sight before you, cherry petals and shining bubbles. a boy you don’t like, but definitely don’t hate, either.

you both look up, following the bubbles with your eyes as they float up into the sky. as they get smaller and smaller, farther and farther out of reach. neither of you say a word, but the silence is comforting. light.

gojo is the first one to break it, surprisingly, in a voice so small you barely hear it.

”you don’t look like a zombie.”

a second passes. the statement catches you off guard, and you’re left blinking in confusion, trying to decipher it.

unable to resist the temptation, you decide to look over at him. with his eyes conveniently hidden behind his sunglasses, you can’t get a good read on his expression; he’s regained his composure, then.

it takes a couple seconds for his words to sink in — but once they do, all pieces seem to fall into place.

is that why he got you the drink?

you just can’t help it. you laugh, lightly, and this time it’s gojo who’s left confused.

”did —” you wheeze, softly, voice thoroughly amused. almost fond. you try to bite back the laughter, but it’s tough. ”did you think i was bothered by that, or something?”

gojo looks at you, for a brief moment. a little stunned. the sight only makes your smile grow even further, as you meet his gaze, eyes crinkled. you really aren’t trying to tease him — it’s just so funny to you. so endearing.

from the angle you’re viewing him through, as you lean back against the bench, you catch a glimmer of his eyes at last. they’re awfully pretty. blue and bright, full of life. when you look closer, you can see tiny, white splotches of colour in them.

they look like the blue sky.

you called them menacing, before, uncanny, but now you don’t think that’s quite true. they’re awfully soft, in the sunlight. especially when viewed like this, right after catching him slightly off guard. it’s a rare moment, terribly precious.

gojo doesn’t let it linger, though — the moment only lasts for a second or two.

then he scoffs, abruptly, turning away yet again. you swear that he’s pouting, a little, even if he’s trying to sound annoyed and nothing more.

”obviously not,” he huffs, sounding irritated as he rests his jaw on the heel of his palm. ”but with how sensitive you are, i wouldn’t be surprised.”

usually, a comment like that would irk you, and you’d bite back. but now it just makes you giggle, lightheartedly. the tips of his ears turn red, again, at the sound.

yeah. he’s really not so bad, after all.

for a while, you don’t say anything else, afraid of ruining the tender atmosphere. you feel closer to gojo than you ever have before, and you wonder if maybe this is the gojo that geto sees; childish, but well meaning. arrogant and cocky, but oddly innocent. selfish — but not really. you may have been slightly off, with that one.

the strawberry milk on your tongue tastes sweet, sweeter than usual.

”hey,” you break the silence, surprising even yourself. the words fall from your lips like soft little breaths, rolling off your tongue like marbles pouring out of a glass bottle. ”i don’t dislike you, you know?”

it’s an impulsive admission. saying it out loud doesn’t feel wrong, though. maybe a little humiliating, sure, but not wrong. they’re honest words, after all.

you suspect gojo may be looking at you, out of the corner of his eye, but you’re not sure. after all, you’re not looking at him, either — that’d feel a little too embarrassing.

he doesn’t quite know how to respond. you’re being strangely unpredictable, today, and it makes him feel a little unsure of himself. your tone is so soft. almost friendly. he only ever hears it when you’re talking to shoko, or geto.

not learning his lesson, gojo opts to tease you, as always. he can’t let the silence linger for too long. it’s a halfhearted attempt, though — more of a vaguely amused huff than anything.

”what, got a crush on me or somethin’?”

this time, you don’t scoff, or roll your eyes, or give him an earnest fuck right off. you just chuckle, in a way that almost borders on fond. you’re not one to tease, contrary to the boy on your left, but your words are teasing even still. ”i have better taste than that.”

gojo should be irked, should grumble and shoot something back, but you don’t give him the chance to.

”i just… you know,” you mumble, tasting the words on your tongue. ”i still think you’re annoying. and childish.” gojo huffs, and your lips curl up. ”but i really don’t dislike you.”

you take a sip of the strawberry milk, before continuing, hoping it’ll make the words easier to say. ”and it’s not like i know you, anyway. so i’m sorry for making a bunch of assumptions.”

a pause. for a split second, you quiet down, a little embarrassed. ”… that’s all i wanted to say,” you exhale, gaze glued to your lap.

as always, you can’t tell what gojo’s thinking. out of the corner of your eye, you try to catch a glimpse of his face, but you have a nagging suspicion that it wouldn’t tell you anything anyway. his eyes are hidden by those sunglasses, after all, acting as a wall between him and the rest of the world. so you don’t know if the words reach him, if they mean anything at all.

but you hope they do. even as you brush cherry petals and non-existent dust from your lap, and get up to leave.

gojo just sits there, for a second, deep in contemplation.

he tries to bury a certain thought, before it has a chance to reach his frontal cortex, before he has to accept that it exists — only this time, he doesn’t succeed.

the words die before they reach his tongue, but he hears them, in his head. and begrudgingly has to accept their existence, after all.

(i don’t really dislike you, either.)

what actually ends up leaving the confines of his throat is merely a scoff, so faint he doubts you even hear it. ”whatever,” he mutters, hoping it’ll come across as cool and unbothered.

the gruff sound strikes you as just slightly flustered. one last smile reaches your face, before you head back inside. gojo stays behind, on the bench, lost in thought.

you toss the now-empty carton into a trash can, dismissing the stray thought of keeping it as a memento of the interaction. that’d just be creepy. you are happy, though. you feel as if you’ve reached something, the start of an eventual conclusion. something worth cherishing.

you still don’t understand satoru gojo. you get the impression that you just grew a little bit closer to him, though.

there are layers to him, more than what meets the eye. hidden behind those sunglasses of his. you can only imagine what the world might look like, from his perspective. what you look like, reflected in his eyes.

you feel a little ashamed, for thinking you had him all figured out. a spoiled, self-centered rich kid, with no functional empathic abilities — it might be partially true, but you’ll have to reevaluate the statement, to see how well it holds up.

the lacking empathic abilities, especially. you still don’t think his emotional intelligence is anything to gawk at, but you may have been underestimating it, a little bit. it’s there, despite everything. in those eyes, in that carton of strawberry milk.

you think there’s a certain maturity, there, in spite of his childishness. or perhaps the latter is no more than a product of the former, a way for damaged children to dress their wounds. the way he carries himself and the way he speaks both seem a bit forced. like he’s used to performing, used to moving in a way that demands attention.

all eyes on him, at all times. you think that sounds just a tad exhausting.

as you return to the safety of your room, you still can’t help but ponder. there’s so much you don’t know. despite the moment you shared, and the connection you think may be growing between you, he’s still so out of reach.

(almost lonely, in a way.)

you wonder what he’s like when he’s alone, when there’s no one around to perform for. what is an actor without their audience?

you don’t understand satoru gojo, not really. not at all, not in the slightest.

but you think you’d maybe like to.

part 0

#i wrote this part a pretty long time ago so tbh i dont think my writing is. v good. but hopefully itll get better by the end LMAO #i love hs gojo soo much hes so cute. so shoujo manga ml. n hes so fun to write in a no curses au #i just feel like gojo is such a gift giver. physically cant apologize but throws ur fave bag of chips at ur head n acts like it wasnt him #hes so silly <33 #next part will b geto’s!!! but itll prob take a while bc my geto bias needs it to be Flawless #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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notjustjavierpena · 9 months

Text

The Making of Ellie - Part III

A/N: Y’all are literally flooding my inbox about these two, so here’s a little wholesome piece whilst I write more smut.

Summary: Your gender reveal is interrupted by pregnancy nausea.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: Completely safe for all ages, but beware of talk about vomit, pregnancy, tooth-rotting fluff, joel is so soft and emotional here, joel just loves taking care of his pregnant s/o.

Word count: 1.2k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051/chapters/124280383

Reveal

It was supposed to be a nice night. Tommy had come over for dinner, Sarah had her boyfriend come over too, and for dessert, you were having cake that Sarah had carefully instructed Tommy in making for a very low-key reveal of the baby’s sex. He’d gotten food coloring to make both pink and blue sponge cake, and Sarah had happily told you and Joel about how she’d stood with her back to him in his kitchen as he whipped up the cake batter. Obviously, not without also ranting about gender stereotypes.

But not even at your third bite of dinner, you had excused yourself from the table and run out to the bathroom. Joel found you with your head in the toilet, arms braced against the seat with tears in your eyes.

“It was supposed to be a nice night,” you’d cried as he stroked your hair. The guilt in your voice had made his chest hurt, tightening and pinching as your stomach continued rejecting its contents.

Joel loves to take care of you when you are pregnant. This does, however, not mean that he takes pleasure in seeing your body fight against you as you are growing his kid, betraying you by making you throw up your dinner and causing you to cry in apology. He wishes he could take that exhaustion and pain away from you, put the strain on himself so that he doesn’t have to see the downturn of your mouth when your bottom lip starts trembling. He’d suffer through anything for you to keep you smiling.

Joel finds you an hour later in your bedroom, lying on your side with a blanket all the way up to your nose. Your hair isn’t sticking to your forehead anymore, and your normal color seems to have returned to your face but God, you look tired beyond words.

When he closes the door behind himself, you stir awake and turn onto your back. Your eyes are barely open, fatigue at its highest from being pregnant and denied the energy of food due to said pregnancy. You don’t even seem to notice that he places a plate and a glass on the nightstand.

“Hey,” he says softly. He sits down on the edge of the bed and turns his body towards yours, “How ya feelin’?”

“I’ve been better, but I can come back downstairs soon,” you say with a groggy smile. He gives you a moment to wake up a bit more, not at all in a hurry because he has sent Tommy home and Sarah is in her bedroom with her boyfriend, which he tries not to think about too much.

“No need, I sent Tommy out the door,” he replies, reaching out for you to rub a gentle hand over the blanket along your hip and waist. He can feel you’ve taken off your skirt despite it just being a piece of fabric with an elastic band around your waist, wearing only underwear and the loose-fitting tee from earlier.

“God, can’t even join my own dinner party,” you groan, pulling the blanket up over your face to hide your shame.

Joel yanks it down again, “‘S not your fault. Kid’s just a troublemaker like their momma.”

“So it is my fault?” You raise a brow at him.

“Shut up,” he rolls his eyes whilst you snicker. It’s contagious, and only he talks again when he has stopped laughing himself, “Can you sit up f’me?”

You sit up carefully, but your nausea has died down enough to make you stay upright. You scoot back to sit against the headboard, “What is it? Oh no, did I miss the cake?”

“No, no. Ain’t gotta worry about that. ‘Course we didn’t start without you,” he tuts. Even in your woken state, you’ve been too busy staring at him to notice the snack and drink that he has brought you. Joel doesn’t complain. He takes the plate in hand and holds it up between the two of you, “Brought ya somethin’, sweetheart, but I can eat it if you don’t feel like it. There’s plain water too.”

You look down at the tiny cupcake on the way too big of a plate for it. There’s slight confusion on your face, “What’s this?”

“Came prepared in case of an emergency. Told Tommy to make an extra for just the two of us if this happened,” he smiles a little shyly. He has always taken care of the people he loved, but not quite like this before.

There are tears in your eyes, a sudden sob escaping from your mouth, “Seriously? Fuck, Miller. I—“

“I know, baby,” he soothes. He doesn’t put the plate down to comfort you, but instead bumps his forehead against yours gently.

“Wanna take a bite?” He asks.

You take the plate from his hand but then shake your head, “No, I don’t wanna possibly ruin this. You do it.”

Joel can feel something catch in his chest. He sits up straight. He usually never feels nervous, pushes the feeling down and away whenever he’s presented with it, but he looks down at the cupcake with a racing heartbeat. He takes it, pulls the parchment paper down, and bites it all the way through from top to bottom.

The taste is too much, too sugary and he doesn’t understand how you enjoy these so much. He chews quietly. Then he screws his eyes shut, turning the half-eaten cupcake towards you so he doesn’t have to look himself, doing it in a dramatic fashion to hide that he is scared beyond belief. It’s better for you to rip the bandage off.

You gasp loudly, then, “We’re having a girl?”

Joel wants to collapse into you. His heart rate spikes, “We are?”

Sure enough; the inside of the cake is bright pink and the look on your face is gorgeous and excited. He is suddenly the one to down the glass of water he has brought for you.

Joel isn’t sure when it starts, but he feels tears welling up in his eyes and running down his cheeks until they drip down from his chin and onto his shirt. It’s overwhelming. It feels embarrassing too. He has been here before with Sarah’s mother, but experiencing it with you makes it feel brand new. He sits on the edge of the bed with the empty glass in his lap.

“Joel,” you fuss, quickly putting down the plate. You cup his face and kiss his frosting-stained lips, “Don’t cry, yeah? And don’t get a heart attack. It’ll be highly impractical for me at this point.”

“Shut up,” he repeats like earlier, sniffing. You pull him into your chest, resting his head on your shoulder. He looks up at you, “‘m not squishin’ you, right?”

“No, definitely not,” you hold him close, kissing his hair repeatedly, “You are the cutest.”

“Do you think she’ll like me?” He asks after a tiny grumble. He’ll let the word cute slide for now.

“Ellie?” You say the name that you’ve already settled on. Joel likes it, “She already loves you. You calm her every time you speak. Like a baby whisperer.”

Joel chuckles quietly. There’s a pause.

“And me? You think she’ll like me?” You add.

Joel cannot see the irony in thinking that it’s the most ridiculous question he’s ever been asked. He doesn’t hesitate, tuts softly, “‘Course. You’re her momma.”

@elissaaa @queerponcho @casa-boiardi @gracieispunk @hiddenbabynyc @hopelessromantic727 @livingdeadmaria @its-nebuleuse @milly-louise @cool-iguana @pawnshopbluess222 @joeldjarin @queenbrownie18 @scarletsloveletter @ladyburberry @swiftsgirlfriend @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sunnywithachanceofjavi @strang3lov3 @hellishjoel @littlevenicebitch69

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