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satorhime · 11 months

Text

. ･｡･ right where you left me ࿐gojo satoru.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : angst, fluff, dad!gojo (reader ‘n’ gojo have a daughter), set in 2018 and 2023, reunion, beach trips, established relationship ! f!reader. ･｡･ w.c. 3.7k & not proofread.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : time remains the one enemy gojo can’t defeat. ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀིა notes: ik there’s a gazillion reunion fics but this has been sitting in my drafts since oct n i suddenly felt like finishing n sharing so i hope u enjoy <333 ‘m gna go cry over this fic now ;u;

satoru is having a damn good day.

it’s suspicious, it feels like a fever dream, and he can’t really pinpoint where the dubiousness comes from. maybe it’s because he feels as if he doesn’t deserve it, like if he allows himself to relax like this something terrible will happen while he slacks off. or maybe, it’s because he’s only ever had those truly good days in his youth when he was devil may care and his concerns for the wellbeing of the world slid off his shoulders weightlessly, like sheets of rain on a rooftop. a wild and selfish kind of happiness that begun in spring and ended too quickly in winter.

but today is a good day. he forgot to charge his phone last night, he is in the best mood he’s been in all year, and he can’t stop fucking smiling. gojo satoru is thriving, on top of the world, a little bit of that nostalgic, adolescent joy warming up his chest.

and it’s all because it’s a sunny day, the water is cool, and he’s on the beach with you and his baby girl.

the three of you decided to steal away on a spontaneous trip to okinawa that forced him out of his work uniform and into swim trunks with a bare chest, simply because you burst into his office with big droplets of tears in your eyes declaring yourself a terrible mother because you realized that your daughter was already three years old and she had never seen the ocean before.

it had taken him ten minutes to book three first class tickets and secure the private family villa for the weekend, fifteen to get packed, and twenty to board after hearing that.

he would do anything to please his girls, after all.

“‘anna go into the bathtub, mama!” your baby whines impatiently from the embrace of your arms, squirming and squiggling for you to let her down as she points towards the rolling ocean waves behind you. ever since she learned how to walk, she’s lost all patience for her doting parents carrying her around— especially when something catches the attention of those big, pretty blue eyes. it didn’t take long for her to become enamored with the sea, wanting nothing more than to get out of your hold and toddle towards the shallows.

“it’s called an ‘ocean’, cupcake,” you correct her, voice full of amusement and affection as you crane your head forward to kiss the soft skin of her chubby cheek, bouncing the toddler in your arms. “too bad we’re being held hostage by dada right now.”

“i heard that,” satoru mumbles with a pout, his third melon popsicle of the day hanging from one side of his mouth. droplets of green slush drips onto the broad planes of his chest in a sticky mess as it melts but he’s wholly focused on the two of you, one summer blue eye winked closed as the other peers through the lens of the polaroid camera looped around his neck. “but wait, just one more photo of my two favorite girls!”

“you’ve been taking photos for the last twenty minutes, satoru,” you huff. “we aren’t going anywhere, you know. you don’t have to take so many.”

“our baby needs to see what the three of us looked like in our prime, before we grow old and gray together.”

“you’re so ridiculous, gojo satoru.”

but despite your exasperation, you remain put. it’s hard not to feel the same way he does on a perfect day like this— contentment, light in the heart and full of love because of this little trip. the camera focuses in on you and your daughter before the shutter clicks, each snap immortalizing the sight of you and your baby girl illuminated by the lazy autumn sun.

“and done!” he cheers, catching the polaroid in his palm as it slides from the slot. it wobbles between two of his fingers as it develops, but he can already see that it’s a perfect picture. he feels his heart sink in his chest, melting into a syrupy sweet puddle of happiness that makes him lightheaded and anxious.

oh, you’ve never looked as pretty as you do right now. like a dream, a forever kind of love he never plans to let go of. wearing that cute little swimsuit he likes so much with his sunnies perched on top of your head and his baby propped up on your supple hip. the two of you are beaming, cheeks squished together, your daughter’s hand cupping your face fondly.

it’s the kind of picture that others would coo at and fawn over if he framed it in a museum, but satoru retrieves his wallet from the pocket of his swim trunks, tucking the polaroid safely in the trifold for his own selfish keeping.

“i think she really likes the beach,” you tell him, squatting to set your daughter on her feet. she waves to you and satoru before waddling toward the shallow surf, her little legs stumbling in the thick body of sand. “this was good of you, satoru.”

“what? you think i’d miss the opportunity to spend time with my best girls?” he asks you, a hand on his chest with an affronted look on his face. you resist the urge to snort as the two of you follow closely behind your stumbling toddler, rushing towards her every time she gets distracted and attempts to eat the sand or chase one of the seagulls.

“you’ve been busy lately, that’s all,” is how you respond, the accusation washed out of your tone for the gentle words instead. you don’t bring up how many milestones, how many little memories he’s already missed, just by being who he is— that no matter what, he’ll always belong to his duty first and his family second. no, you’ve always shown patience and understanding. never complaining when his side of the bed is empty before morning or your girl requests for her father to read a bedtime story in that animated, comical way you can never replicate for her. making her settle for your offkey, wobbly lullabies instead.

“i know,” he says quietly, suddenly serious— keeping one eye on your baby girl who is currently splashing her hands around in the sand and water. “one of my first year’s a vessel so the curses are getting more pesky. i don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

“you think something’s about to happen?” you ask, looking up at him, but he presses a kiss to your temple and you wrinkle your nose at the sticky feeling of his lips.

“nah,” he replies, and you almost roll your eyes because you know he’s lying. even though satoru has done his best to keep you hidden from his world, you’re no fool. you already know why he rarely comes home at night, why he was absent for christmas last year, why your daughter has never met her paternal grandparents. you know that with the reappearance of several ancient cursed objects, there is thunder crackling among the clouds. “don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”

satoru turns up the volume on the waterproof boombox half-buried in the sand next to your belongings. he can’t stand your choice of music, finds it noise most of the time, but it’s the distraction the atmosphere needs to throw off your questioning. he pulls you to sit down between his legs, your back pressed against his chest and his arms wrapped around your body.

ocean foam splashes against the tips of your toes as the two of you sit at the surf of the tide in peaceful silence, time getting away from you both in the warm sun as your baby girl plays, her energy endless— waddling around and squealing at the different curiosities and wonders the beach has to offer.

whatever will happen, satoru won’t allow it to be today.

“satoru,” you call after a long quiet, craning your neck to look up at him. “if you—”

“what, you think i’m gonna croak sometime soon?” he shoots back, already knowing where the conversation is heading. so he holds you tighter, his strong arms a protective cage around your body as his shades slide down the attractive slope of his nose. he cracks a grin at you, another obvious deflection because he knows you can’t resist when he looks at you that way. not with his hair mussed from humidity, a strip of sunscreen on his nose as he chews on that damn wooden stick from his ice pop earlier.

“i know what you’re doing,” you shake your head. “and it’s not working. i’m just worried, i’m allowed to, as your wife. you think you’re invincible but if something happens to you that’ll… it’ll—” it will break us.

satoru’s smile fades, but he thankfully doesn’t need to reply because your daughter is waddling up to the both of you now, her sand-caked hands full of seashells and stones that glimmer in the sunlight. he wants to scoff because if anyone understands the consequences of failing those you love, it’s him— it’s all he’s ever known.

“what ya got there, princess?”

“fish—!” she cries in her sweet, babyish voice. some of the shells tumble from her hands, and you watch as her expression switches from happiness to dismay to finally confusion. you have to bite your lip to hold back laughter when instead of picking them back up, she dumps the rest of the seashells in your lap. “now i don’t have any fish.”

“i think those are seashells, princess,” gojo says with a grin, picking up a shell that rests on top of your thigh and holding it up to the sunlight. “this shell looks like it belongs to a hermit crab, like your megumi-nii.”

“you’re a terrible influence on our daughter, you know.”

“i’m just setting up future dynamics, angel face,” he grins.

“look look look!” your daughter gasps, bringing your attentions back to her. “this swee-shell looks like dada—!” she squeals excitedly, her new finding held delicately in her little sand-covered palm. she stands up on your thighs to reach her father sitting behind you, holding an iridescent blue seashell next to gojo’s eyes, her tiny mind comparing the colors in wonder. meanwhile, satoru wears a smile that burns so wide it hurts his cheeks.

“it looks like you too, princess,” he boops her nose, gently taking the seashell and holding it to her eyes next. her answering giggles sound like a sweet bell calling him home to heaven, but he can’t answer it because there are two people on this earth who laugh and smile at him like he hung the moon and painted the stars. “if you put it in your pocket now, the ocean won’t call the cops on you for stealing it.”

“no, this one ‘s for dada,” she insists, shoving the pretty blue seashell back into his hand.

“thank you, my mini angel,” he ruffles her hair, and you smile softly at the little exchange because though she may be enamored with her new discoveries at the beach, her father will always be one of her favorite wonders of the world.

“i ‘anna go find one for mama now!” she announces, and you wonder how she hasn’t run out of energy yet, but you nod and stand to your feet, dusting the sand away from the bottom of your swimsuit. your baby’s entire hand curls around your pointer finger, and she pulls you along with great effort.

you glance back at satoru and find that he’s watching the two of you head closer to the water, that uncharacteristically genuine smile still on his face, and you part your lips to call him to your side— where he’s always supposed to be.

“you didn’t think we’d let you slack off, did you? finding seashells is serious business, satoru!” you tease, pretty eyes crinkling with unbridled happiness, haloed by the waning sun and the orange dreamsicle sky that holds it. “hurry up!”

“wait for me just a little while, i’m coming to you,” he calls back, a lopsided grin spreading across his mouth before he raises the polaroid camera to his face, snapping one last candid photo of the two of you before he jogs towards his little piece of heaven.

but he doesn’t think he’s imagining things when the distance between heaven and earth keeps growing further and further apart—

“satoru, you can’t stand outside forever,” your voice is gentle as it speaks behind him, your hand laid delicately on his back in comfort; breaking the sorcerer out of deep reverie, the edges of the old memory fading, replaced by the pink paint of his daughter’s bedroom door that he’s been standing in front of for the last thirty minutes. his thumb brushes over the polaroid in his hand, the one that had been his salvation and his undoing in the prison realm. he’d taken it out without knowing, his eyes reading over the date written in his handwriting.

october 30, 2018

the picture of you with your daughter on your hip that he took at the beach all those years ago— that had been the last time he’d seen her.

four, no, five years?

his feet are nailed to the floor because change makes satoru shut down, and everything has changed since then.

while time was immeasurable and immovable inside of the prison realm for him, the clock had ticked on outside of it and just like that, his little girl is no longer three years old, giving him seashells that matches his eyes or hitting the back of his ankles with her big wheel or—

“you can’t keep doing this to yourself,” you sigh. “you’ve been unsealed for months. you’re her father, no matter what.”

“i’m a stranger to her,” and to you, but he doesn’t say it. you had waited for him, in every aspect of the word. held out on hope and faith in his strength that he would return to your side, where he’s always supposed to be.

“you’re n—” but you’re cut off when the door opens to reveal your daughter standing on the other side. the child standing before him is almost unrecognizable. she’s much taller and older, wearing track pants underneath her school dress with ribbons in unruly waves of white hair. the last time he’d seen his daughter, she had been three years old and still learning things like colors and sight words and that feeding megumi’s demon dogs her vegetable purée was against the rules. now, gojo satoru was the father of an eight year old and he’d missed everything because of a mista—

“you can come in,” she says, blinking up at satoru with an expression void of emotion. “but i’m not finished with my homework so if you stay too long, you’ll bug me.”

“how did you know i was outside?” he whistles nonchalantly, unbothered by the attitude that she gives him. it fills him with bitter satisfaction that she isn’t excited to see him, that someone is angry that he failed, regardless if he won in the end. he can handle bratty children who hate him and only look at him as a tool for their success, he can’t handle a daughter who cried herself to sleep every night waiting for him while he was losing his sanity away in a cube.

or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

“i could see you and mama through the door, duh,” she replies, hip cocked to the side in an amount of sass she had to pick up from you. “mama says i have your eyesight. i don’t really get it, but it makes it easy to cheat on tests.”

he could see it in the bright blue of her eyes, even if she hadn’t confirmed it. plain as daylight, she’s exactly like he was at that age. easily irritable and bratty, cocky and spoiled rotten. suffering from the weight of being an uncontested heir to an ancient dynasty at the age of elementary.

“i used six eyes to cheat on tests too,” he relates with pride, and then he bends down to her height, waving his palm. “sooo you probably got some questions about where i was—”

“not really. grandfather said you were sealed because you’re foolish and let weakness distract you.”

“you shouldn’t say things like that,” you scold, “apologize.”

“why? i don’t want to.”

your daughter turns, disappearing back into her room after that and seeming like she doesn’t care if satoru follows or not. your hand travels up the long expanse of satoru’s back in a soothing circle as you step closer.

“huh, that’s new.”

“sorry, she’s… i don’t know if acting out is the right term,” you say, pain in your voice. “she doesn’t really understand why she’s so different, or why you were … gone for so long. i know you didn’t want her around your family so i kept her away as best i could, but she started to have crippling migraines because she didn’t know how to use her ability and well… they were the only ones who knew how to help. filled her head with foolishness every time she visited the estate, though and it’s changed her.”

“huh,” is all he says, a broken record, tongue running across his inner lip in thought.

“do you need me?”

“what, you think i can’t handle her?”

“well, you were outside the door for a half hour, ‘toru.”

he shoots you a lopsided grin before he’s stepping into his daughter’s bedroom, glancing around at the unfamiliarity of it all. you follow close behind, watching with a heavy heart as he takes in the difference eight years can make.

her tiny baby crib has been traded for a poster bed decorated with a sanrio duvet and various stuffed animals where a laptop and study papers lay scattered on top. the angel themed decorations, along with her first ultrasound photo you and satoru had hung up in her nursery had been replaced by pink paint and pictures of her with a group of friends from school and a photo of her on a volleyball team.

he has to rip his gaze away.

“so,” he starts, standing in the center of the room and trying not to feel like an intruder, desperate for something to say— something to relate to her with. “how many episodes did i miss? did aya-chan ever get married?”

“i’m too old to play with dolls now, father,” she huffs, scrunching up her nose, and though satoru expected that exact answer, it doesn’t stop his heart from shattering into a million pieces. he feels that familiar itch, anger welling in his body until it burns at his fingertips because this is no one’s fault but his own. “don’t you know anything about me?”

“my bad, you’re a big kid now,” he snorts, even as his chest aches. he sits on the edge of her bed, flipping up one edge of the coloring book laying next to her laptop. “maybe you should start paying taxes.”

“i’m also too young to pay taxes. you really don’t know anything about me anymore,” she snaps, and she’s right— he doesn’t and it burns like saltwater on a wound. now he knows why you asked if he needed you; he’d hide behind you if he could, but he settles for flickering his eyes up to you helplessly.

you realize that neither of you can be upset with her for being angry that one of her favorite people vanished out of thin air. that while he was sealed, his clan had taken advantage of his absence and your powerlessness against them, and had begun spoiling your child rotten, teaching her how to use her ability— plumping her up for the inevitable day that she becomes her father’s successor, turning her against him.

“i think,” you say softly, leaning against the frame of the door. “that your dada— your father— would like to learn, though. he’s missed a lot, baby.”

she considers this for a long while, then she heaves a great sigh, hackles lowering. she scoots off the bed and before satoru can feel the hurt of figuring she doesn’t want to be near him, she does something unexpected. she moves one of her trophies out of the way to open her closet door, rummaging around for the longest before she yanks out a cardboard box you had labeled ‘donate one day since my snotty kid is a hag now’— it’s a box full of old dolls, covered in dust. she sits on her knees in front of the box, peering inside.

“aya-chan didn’t get married, but hinata-chan did,” she explains with an exasperated sigh and a roll of her eyes, taking out the dolls one by one and setting them on the floor in front of satoru’s feet.

“to the mailman that lived in your ugliest dollhouse?”

“you remember,” her eyes widen a little in surprise before her expression shutters again, smoothing out the doll’s colorful polyester dress before reaching back into the box and retrieving a brush covered in synthetic hairs. she looks at it for a while before extending her arm and offering the brush to her father. “aya-chan decided to be independent and explore the world. she’s planning to go on a trip soon so she needs to get ready. do y’wanna brush her hair?”

satoru is sliding off the bed and sitting cross-legged on the floor before he knows it, barely wanting to breathe because he doesn’t want to shatter the fragility of the moment between them. he takes the brush, and seconds later she hands him one of the dolls that had once upon a time been her favorite one that no one was allowed to touch. you would giggle at the delicate way he brushes the doll’s hair with utmost care and precision if you weren’t about to cry at the scene instead. “oh, and where’s she headed?”

“okinawa.”

“ponytail or messy bun then?” you don’t think you’re imagining the wobble in his voice. “to compliment her swimsuit.”

a tiny, hopeful smile twinkles over your lips at the two of them on the floor, babbling away to each other about the outlandish stories they’ve created together with her dolls. how many times had you offered to play with her, only for her to burst into tears because it wasn’t the same? you know that this won’t bridge the gap between the years that have been lost, but it’s a start. just hearing the soft murmurs of their conversation, the sound of your little girl giggling for the first time in ages, makes your heart swell.

time may be an undefeated opponent, and with it comes change that no one can control, but something tells you that as long as the three of you are together— everything will be okay.

you tiptoe out of the room, because they need time to catch up and apologize and reconnect, to learn one another once more, but before you close the door, you don’t think you’re mistaken when you hear, “can we go back to the beach too, dada?”

#little novels.#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk angst #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojo angst

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forever-rogue · 3 months

Note

hello miss bee 🐝

if you're in the mood to write for joel id love to ask one where he and reader just had a baby of their own and ellie starts to feel left out but they both comfort and reassure her that they won't treat her differently since they already unofficially adopted her anyway 🫶🤲

AN | There may be a new baby on the way, but that doesn’t you’ll ever love Ellie any less. She just needs to be reminded of that💕

Pairing | Joel Miller x Pregnant!Reader

Warnings | None

Word Count | 3.3k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I hate this,” you plopped down in the chair on the back patio with a loud huff. You heard a snort of amusement from behind you and turned around to find Joel watching you in amusement. Your lips pulled into a pout and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “this is all your fault.”

“Hmm,” he raised an eyebrow before going back over to the makeshift grill to check on dinner, “pretty sure that’s only half true, sweetheart.”

“Well,” you crossed your arms over your chest and frowned at him, “it’s still partially true. Being pregnant is the worst. Especially with this heat. I should have gotten pregnant in the summer so the worst of it would have been in the winter.”

“Think of it this way,” the way you raised an eyebrow in a way that suggested you were anything but amused, “we’ll have a fresh baby for the holidays.”

“I’m still hoping for a halloween baby,” you grinned, rubbing your belly that seemed to be growing by the day, “how cool would that be?”

“The coolest,” Joel teased as you laughed, an actual laugh that went straight to his heart, “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

“The real question - do you think we’re going to have a boy or girl?”

“Girl,” he insisted without hesitation, “I’m always going to have my girls. I don’t think that’s changing anytime soon.”

“I guess we’ll just have to wait and see,” you took a sip of the fresh lemonade and let out a soft sigh, “but I have a feeling you’re going to be wrong!”

“Oh yeah? You wanna bet on that?” Joel stood there, hands on his hips as he watched you closely. You stuck out your tongue at him, causing both of you to laugh.

What you hadn’t realized was that Ellie was in the kitchen, getting some plates ready to bring out, listening to the two of you. She loved you, she loved you both immensely. She knew that you and you knew that. But she couldn’t help the pang that settled in her stomach and the way her heart seemed to constrict. It was a feeling that hadn’t left her since you’d told her you were pregnant. You and Joel had been so excited to tell her and despite the shock of the news, she’d been excited too. Ellie Williams was finally going to have a baby sister or brother. Her family was growing.

But as the weeks passed by and your pregnancy became more visibly obvious, the worse she started to feel. And it felt like it was eating her alive. It was a mix of emotions that she was struggling to handle and cope with. She was excited for you and Joel and your entire little family but it left her feeling…lost and confused.

Ellie knew that both of you viewed her as your daughter and she viewed you as parents. She wondered what it would like when the baby came. Your baby - your and Joel’s flesh and blood. Once you had your own baby, would you no longer care about her? Would she be pushed to the wayside as you welcomed and loved your actual child?

These types of thoughts had been plaguing her for months now. It was stupid, so fuckin’ stupid, she’d be the first to admit, and yet the feelings remained. Realistically, she could have gone to either of you and asked in order to alleviate her fears or get some simple reassurance. But that seemed silly too. What was she supposed to do? Come up to you and ask ‘hey will you still love me once the baby is here?’ That felt ridiculous.

Instead, Ellie internalized her feelings, deciding to push them away and act like nothing was wrong. You’d noticed that something was off with your girl recently. Things had just seen so crazy lately, with getting ready for the baby and Joel being off for a while with work to do, it hadn’t been easy. But Ellie really had been your rock and you hated the idea that you were neglecting her in any sense.

“Ellie?” the girl almost dropped the bowl of salad she was holding when she heard you call out to her. She swallowed the lump in her throat and blinked back her tears before heading into the backyard. Your entire face lit up when you saw her and she felt bad for a moment for ever having doubted your love and affection for her, “there you are, Ellie Bean! Everything okay?”

“Y-yeah,” she set the plates and bowl onto the table and nodded softly, “just got caught up cutting the…tomatoes.”

“There’s no tomatoes in the salad, baby,” you gave her arm a gentle squeeze, “we gave the last of them to the Meyers the other day. Are you sure you’re alright?”

She looked away and nodded, staring into the distance as she pleaded with her heart and mind to remain calm and collected. Joel clicked his tongue and caught her attention, giving her a questioning look. Sometimes he hated how well he knew her and how he seemed to see right through her.

“C’mere,” he motioned for her to come over and she obliged, walking over slowly with a heavy tread. She stopped in front of him and he put his hands on her shoulders, leaning down slightly so he was closer to eye level with her, “what’s wrong, baby girl?”

“Nothing,” she replied through gritted teeth. Joel knew that something was up but he didn’t want to push her and possibly cause her to pull away from him. He sighed softly before pressing a kiss to her forehead. It had become such a reflexive action that he didn’t even think about doing it any more, “you’re being gross and showing too much emotion.”

“Someone’s gotta do it,” he teased and that caused her to smile slightly at him, “‘cause it sure ain’t going to be you right, is it? You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” she whispered, “not right now.”

“Okay,” he nodded lightly, “I’ll be here and ready to listen whenever you’re ready.”

“I know, old man,” she pushed his arm before turning on her heel and walking back over to you. She sat down next to you, her gaze drifting for a moment to your belly. You reached up and touched her face, gently stroking her cheek, “you’re both such saps.”

“It’s only because we love you,” you beamed at her. She felt her cheeks growing warm and pink as she stared at the bowl of tomato-less salad, “you wanna help me make some dessert while the food’s cooking? I was thinking pudding…ooh or maybe some sort of pie?!”

“Sure,” she perked up at your enthusiasm, unable to deny the appeal of spending time with you and making a dessert, “let’s do it.”

Ellie decided that she’d figure out the rest later. Right now, she was okay and she just wanted the two of you to have some fun.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“I’m worried about her,” you closed your book and set on the nightstand before turning to your husband with a sad expression on your face. He followed suit and turned so he was fully looking at you.

“The baby?”

“I - no. And we don’t know if it’s a girl or boy yet so calm down,” you laughed for a moment before moving to sit crossed-legged - to the best of your ability anyway - and gave him a serious look, “Ellie. She seems so closed off lately and it always seems like she’s upset, but when I try to talk to her she changes the subject or finds an excuse to leave. I feel like my poor baby girl hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you,” Joel took your hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze before you laced your fingers together, “she could never hate you.”

“But something is wrong and I don’t know what it is and I can’t fix it,” a wave of emotion washed over you and tears stung at the back of your eyes. You sniffled, fully aware that you probably seemed ridiculous right now but you didn’t care, “I just want to make it better.”

“Honey,” Joel’s voice was soft as he put his hands on your sides and gently pulled you towards him. You easily gave in, soft and pliable, as he settled you in his lap. You felt pathetic as you looked at him, tears running down your cheeks. He tenderly brushed them away before taking your face in his hands and turning your face up to his, “she doesn’t hate you and she never will. Whatever she’s going through right now, she’ll come around. She’s still guarded and sometimes these things take time. She’ll come around, she always does. We just have to keep on loving her.”

“Promise?” you whispered as he nodded softly. You leaned into his touch as he rubbed your back soothingly, “I don’t know what I’d do if…I don’t know. If she stopped loving us.”

“That ain’t happening,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I have a feeling I know what’s going on with her.”

“Oh?” you looked at him in surprise and he couldn’t help but grin at the sight of your confused expression. The fact that you were so pouty and pregnant made you even more adorable to him than before. He had to fight back a laugh at your expression, opting instead to kiss you softly, “what do you think it is?”

“The baby,” he answered, putting a hand on your belly and rubbing it gently, “I think she’s worried about the baby.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you think she thinks that we’re just going…to stop loving her?” the waterworks started again and this time you couldn’t hold back the tears, “she thinks we’re going to replace her!”

“Oh honey,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and tried to hug him as best as possible. You huffed as you buried your face into his chest and he softly cooed at you, “I don’t think she thinks we’re trying to replace her. I think she’s worried that we won’t have as much time and love for her."

"That's not true," you hated the fact that that thought even crossed her mind, "that's like…the farthest thing from the truth! She's my baby too. Nothing is ever going to change that."

"I know that," he gently brushed his fingers along your jaw before resting his hand on your cheek, "you know that. I think she just might need a little reassurance."

"Yeah," you sighed softly, "I can do that. I will do that."

"I have no doubt about that either, honey."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ellie startled when she heard your enthusiastic knocking on her door. She groaned as she looked at the old school alarm on the bedside table and saw that it wasn't even eight o'clock yet.

"Come in," she rolled onto her side so she was facing the door. You almost threw open the door in your excitement, already fully dressed and ready for the door.

"Hi my love!" Her eyes widened at your cheeriness, "good morning, Ellie Bean."

"It's early," she groaned as you leaned against the doorway, causing you to laugh softly, "why are you so awake?"

"I've been up for a while…couldn't sleep well," you shrugged it off, "but I thought it would be fun if we spent the day together, just the two of us!"

"O-oh," she slowly sat up, heart almost constricting with emotion, "are you sure?"

"Duh," you teased, "its been a while since it's just been the two of us and I figured we could have some fun!"

"Okay," she looked at you, an eyebrow raised in question. You clapped excitedly and she offered you a tentative smile in response, "w-wait, am I in trouble?"

"Of course not," you walked over to her and held out your hand to her. She took yours and slowly slipped out of the bed, "I just want to spend some time with my favorite girl."

"Alright," a little bit of a flush crossed her cheeks as she offered you a smile, "yeah, that could be fun."

"Let's go then slow poke, no time to lose!"

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your day had been filled with doing anything and everything that Ellie wanted - within reason of course. As the day bled into night, the two of you were at the lake, sitting on the dock, feet dangling into the water.

"Can I ask you something?" You finally couldn't take it anymore and needed to clear all the air. Ellie paused before nodding slowly and turning towards you.

"Sure…"

"I feel like lately…things have been different," you put your arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze, "and I want to make sure you're alright. You've been off lately, and I want to know if you're okay and if I can do anything to help."

"Oh. Oh," Ellie swallowed thickly; she thought she'd been better at disguising her feelings, "umm…it's…just. I don't know. Things have just felt different since you've been pregnant."

"Yeah?" You asked as she turned to you with a sad little smile and a nod, "oh, Ellie."

"I just…it feels weird that…umm. Like it's you and Joel, you know? And now you're having your own child and it makes me feel like…where's my place?"

"Baby," you tried to keep your own emotions at bay but it was hard when all you wanted to was to wrap her up in a big hug, "your place is with us - it'll always be with us. We're family. Nothing is going to change that."

"But if you love the new baby more than me?" You hated that she even thought anything like that. You wished you could convey just how very much you loved her, "I keep thinking about…what if you don't want me anymore."

"We will never not want you or love you," you took her hand and held it tightly in yours, "that will never change. Nothing could change how we feel about you. You're our girl, Ellie."

"Are you sure? The baby-"

"The baby doesn't change anything," you pulled her into your body as much as you could, "its another person we're bringing into our family that we can love. It doesn't mean any of us is going to get less love. Okay? I swear on my life. And Joel's life. All of it."

"Every time I've gotten close to people they've been taken from me," Ellie sniffled brushing at her eyes with the back of her hand, "my parents, my family, my friends…I almost lost Joel. I don't want to lose you too and the baby. I'm not sure if I'd make it if I did."

"Ellie," you softened at the young girl, "you are so young and you've been through so much. More than anyone ever should. And I know the world is scary and we don't know what the future holds but we can't let that dictate how we feel about the present or how we act. You're not going to lose us or your brother or sister. Never. And maybe me just saying that doesn't make anything better but I'll show you and I'll keep showing you that we mean it. Honestly, I don't think I'd survive without you. You are the world to me, Ellie."

"Being pregnant has made you so sappy," she laughed through her tears, "even more than normal. Its kind of gross."

"It's because I love you so much, kiddo," you grinned at her, brushing away her tears, "but the hormones definitely aren't helping! Luckily it won't be too much longer before the baby is here."

"Are you scared?"

"Terrified," you confessed with a sheepish grin, "but I know I'll be okay. I've got you Joel and you. Everything will be okay."

"Yeah," she nodded, a bit of confidence oozing back into her, "we'll be okay. I'm excited to meet the baby."

"Boy or girl you think?"

"Girl," she seemed so confident that you were almost convinced of that as well, "Joel's meant to be surrounded by girls."

"Funny, that's exactly what he said too," you shook your head in amusement thinking about the two of them. They were too alike for their own good, "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

"Whatever," she playfully rolled her eyes, "we all know we're right!"

"Mhmm," you slowly stood up and held out your hand to her, "come on my love. Let's go home and annoy Joel."

She took your hand eagerly, "I love you too, just so you know."

"Yeah," you promised her softly, "I know. I love you more, kiddo."

Ellie approached you slowly, almost unsure if she should be coming over. You beamed at her, motioning for her to come closer. She stole a quick look at Joel, who offered her a small smile and nod of reassurance.

"Come here, my love," you held out your hand to her and she came over, staring at the bundle in your arms in awe, "I hate to admit it, but Joel was right. You've got yourself a little sister."

"Wow," she reached over and gentle stroked her chubby little cheek, "she's so small. What's her name?"

"Well, we don't have a name picked out yet," you smiled softly, "we were hoping you'd help us by picking her name."

"Me?"

"You! If you'd like to that is," you could see her eyes watering up, and your heart felt so full, "you can take a bit to think about it-"

"Daisy," she stated softly, looking between you and Joel to gauge your reactions, "I like Daisy."

"Me too," you gave her a hand squeeze, "Daisy it is. It's perfect. Do you want to hold her, Ellie?"

"I-I don't know," she swallowed the lump in her throat as the baby cooed softly, "she's so small and I don't wanna…hurt her."

"You won't," you promised, straightening up as she stepped closer, "hold her to your chest and make sure you're supporting her head, okay?"

"Okay," she reached over gingerly, as though the baby was made of glass. She took her from you and did as you said, holding the small baby protectively. Daisy made a few sounds before yawning and snuggling into Ellie. The girl watched her in amazement, "she's so cute and little."

"Just like you," you teased, reaching over and giving her arm a squeeze. You turned to Joel, who was watching the scene unfold with nothing short of heart eyes, "look at that, Joel. Look at our girls. They're the best."

"Yeah," he agreed, pressing a kiss to the side of Ellie's head, "they are. But you know what else?"

"Hmm?"

"I was right - it was a girl," he threw you a cheeky grin as you snorted in amusement, "wouldn't change it for the world."

"Yeah, me neither," Ellie piped up, "I guess we're a pretty cool family. Daisy and me anyways. You guys are alright."

"We love you too," you sighed contentedly, happy to have your little family all together, "both of you. Lots and lots."

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #tlou

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sincerelyneo · 26 days

Note

hiii can you repost hello angel? as a jaemin girl it was one of my favorite fics everrrr i read it everyday fr😭❤️

hey angel | n.jm

“i come alive when i hear your voice, it’s a beautiful sound”

💿now playing: hey angel by one direction

❯ summary: You're Jaemin's best friend - so of course he loves to call you up late at night and hear your voice. He's definitely not calling because the sound of your voice turns him on - yeah definitely not that.

❯ pairings: jaemin x fem!reader

❯ genre: friends to lovers, smut, fluff.

❯ words: 3.7k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation, slight possessiveness?, begging, praise, heavy use of nicknames, reader uses she/her pronouns, just pure filth tbh, jaemin has a voice kink??

It was late and you were already in bed, snuggled deep and cozy in the sea of your blankets, when your best friend Jaemin called. He’s your closest friend and the person you were more than a little bit in love with — but you’d never risk telling him for fear of it ruining your friendship.

So even though it was late, and you were sleepy, you answered his call. To be fair, he’d answered plenty of your late-night phone calls over the years.

“Hey angel,” Jaemin greets in an eager tone.

You can hear the alcohol in his voice — that and Jaemin only ever used that nickname for you when he’d been drinking. Still, it never fails to send warmth curling through your heart. It felt like it was his way of wrapping you up in his strong arms whilst he wasn’t with you.

“Annngelll,” your best friend continues in singsong, making you giggle softly.

Jaemin’s voice sounds rough and gravelly, like he’d been shouting over a crowded bar all night. Which wasn't a surprise since it was his friend Jeno’s birthday tonight. And you knew your charming and extroverted best friend would never pass up the chance of a good time.

Before you could respond to his greetings, Jaemin’s tone suddenly turned serious. “I missed you tonight.”

“Na Jaemin,” you try to match his quick change of mood, attempting a serious tone. But it was a losing battle as you tried to fight against the smile threatening to let loose at his statement. “You’re drunk—I bet you barely noticed I wasn’t there tonight.”

He grumbles and you hear fabric rustle like he was flopping back on his bed. You can’t help but imagine what he currently looked like: his body probably sprawled out on top of his comforter, the strands of his hair falling into his face as his head propped up on his pillows. He probably had one hand behind his head, his bicep bulging while his other hand held the phone to his ear.

You know it’s wrong, but your mind wonders if he was still in his clothes from the night or if he’d stripped down—knowing the fact that your best friend liked to sleep in his boxers.

But you were also familiar with intoxicated Jaemin, he likely hadn’t changed out of his clothes yet, too drunk, and tired to care. Still, that didn’t stop you from thinking about your best friend laying in his bed shirtless while he talked to you.

“I may have had a couple drinks,” he admits grudgingly. “But of course, I missed my angel. I swear—cross my heart and hope to die—I was a good boy tonight,” he says with enough conviction that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“You’re silly, Jaem.” There’s a warmth in your voice, and you have no hope of wiping the smile from your face even if you tried.

Pulling the phone away from your ear to check the time, you felt bad and ask, “Why are you calling?”

A long, loud sigh came through the phone from your best friend. “I wanted to hear your voice,” he explains after a silent moment.

It was a cute sentiment, making you feel warm all over, and you wished you could talk to him longer. “Jaem,” you start, gentling your voice. “It’s late and you know I have to get up early. So, if that’s all, I’m going to hang up.”

“But I can’t sleep,” he whines, and you could hear the pout in his voice. Without even seeing his face, you knew he was deploying his puppy dog eyes. “Just talk to me for a few minutes, angel, please?”

“Fine,” you say with another sigh, folding instantly at the thought of imagining his gentle expression asking you. He’d learned long ago it was a sure way to make you give in. You’d fallen sucker to Jaemin’s big brown eyes, and he knew exactly how to use them.

Resigning yourself to being tired at work the next day, you settled deeper into your pillows. Your voice gentle as you got comfortable. “But you can’t hold it against me if I fall asleep,” you warn.

“Deal.” His smugness at getting you to agree so easily was loud and clear through the phone even if you couldn’t see his self-satisfied smile. “How was your day, angel?” he asks as his bed sheets rustled again and you presumed he was settling in too.

Tired, but always happy to talk to your best friend, you told him about your day and complained about why you had to get up early the next morning. Your voice turns softer and sweeter as you get more and more tired. Jaemin’s does the same, getting even deeper and more husky as he told you about his day. Eventually, there was a lull in the conversation, and you were about to tell him good night when he said something that surprised you enough to drag you away from the edge of sleep.

“Have I ever told you how hard your sleepy little voice makes me?” he asks, making a sound like he was biting back a groan. “I love calling you before you fall asleep, but I always gotta rub one out after.”

“Jaemin,” you say, voice going for stern, but not quite hitting the mark since it was still laced with sleepiness. “That is not true.”

“It is!” he insists, sounding more awake by the minute—and you were right there with him. “I’m hard right now.” He makes a soft sound, like a grunt.

Before you could stop yourself, you imagined him— still sprawled out on his bed — but this time he had a bulge in his jeans. In your mind’s eye, Jaemin grips his hard length through his jeans, stroking himself roughly. The thought makes you gasp softly, and you clench your thighs together against a sudden pulse in your core.

Jaemin must’ve heard the sound because you could hear the grin in his voice when he speaks again. “Tell me, angel, are you wearing one of my shirts tonight?” he asks gruffly.

You swallow heavily, trying to buy yourself some time. It felt like crossing a line to admit that you were wearing one of his shirts, but when Jaemim didn’t take the question back, you realise you’d had to answer.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

“Which one?” His voice is rough now, like sandpaper, but oh so eager.

“One of your varsity shirts from college—the one that says ‘Jaemin’ on the back,” you answer, unable to lie to your best friend even if you were a little shy to admit you still sleep in his shirts. You knew you didn’t need to be, since he clearly knew you slept in them.

“I love it when you wear my shirts, angel,” Jaemin confesses. His tone now warm, like he was grinning and happy. It makes the last of your shyness disappear to hear him say that.

“It lets everyone know you’re mine.”

“I’m not yours, Jaemin,” you protest half-heartedly.

You weren’t, even if you desperately wanted to be his in every sense of the word.

“You’re my best friend,” he says, like there was no argument you could come up with to change his mind. “My best girl—that makes you mine.”

“Jaemin,” you exhale.

You knew he was just talking about friendship, but you wished his words meant something different. You wished he felt the same way for you as you did for him.

“Fuck, say my name like that again,” he begs in a gruff voice. “Makin’ me so damn hard.”

You feel the blush rise to your cheeks and you go flustered, unsure what to do as Jaemin easily crosses lines you’d avoided delicately for years. But you didn’t want him to stop. The sound of his voice saying those things had wetness pooling between your thighs. So, you gave him what he wanted.

“Jaemin,” you repeat his name, voice breathier with your arousal, and he let out a happy hum.

“That’s my girl,” he says followed by a groan that is so low and husky, sending tingles racing through your entire body. “Fuck, I’m so hard,” he moans, a slight strain in his voice. “Do you mind, angel?”

It took a moment for your hazy mind to figure out what he was asking. Then, another to process that he was asking if you were okay with him stroking himself while he was on the phone with you. Your breath caught from a sudden surge of excitement. The voice that typically stops you from crossing the line with your best friend was conveniently quiet and all that was left was your need for him.

“I-I don’t mind, Jaem,” you answer softly, trying not to sound too eager.

The sound of him pulling down the zipper of his jeans was loud enough that you could hear it through the phone — and that alone sent a shiver down your spine. It was nothing, though, in comparison to the rough groan he makes as he grips his cock in his hand.

“Fuck,” he curses.

You could feel yourself getting slicker from the sounds of him stroking himself. Distantly, you knew you were crossing a line by listening to him, by getting off on hearing your best friend pleasure himself, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Instead, you found yourself holding your breath as you strained to hear him.

“What else are you wearing besides my shirt, angel?” his voice octaves lower than normal. The sound of it makes you squirm, your thighs clenching together harder.

Biting your lip, you debated for a second whether to answer truthfully. You didn’t want to lie to your best friend and, you rationalise, you’d already crossed the line, hadn’t you?

“Just panties,” you whisper.

You trail your hand down your chest over his shirt to toy with the hem where it had ridden up around your hips. Your fingers were dangerously close to slipping under the waistband your best friend had become oh so curious about.

“Just panties? Fucking hell, angel. What colour are they, huh?” He questions in his deep, rough voice.

You swallow thickly, wondering if he could hear how hot and bothered he was making you. You wonder if he knew you were so close to playing with yourself by the way your breath was getting faster. But you couldn’t stop yourself from answering.

“They’re pink,” you say softly.

“Angel,” Jaemin groans, thickened with need. “Fuck, I wanna bury my head between your thighs and kiss every single inch of you until you’re writhing under me, begging me to tear those panties off you.”

It was your turn to groan, and when you say, “Jaemin,” on a sharp exhale, you sound even more needy than anything else. Your fingers brushing over the hem of your panties, teasing yourself with whether or not you should dip beneath the fabric and touch yourself.

“You like that idea, angel?” He asks, a grin in his voice. “Like thinking about my mouth so close to your pussy.”

At his words, you couldn’t help but picture the scene. His head navigating between your legs, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, holding you open so he could follow through on his promise. It was all too easy to imagine the way he’d look at you, mischief sparkling in his brown eyes as he slowly, teasingly kissed your mound over your panties, tongue sneaking out to lick the pink material. The picture he painted had you squirming in your bed.

You couldn’t take it anymore, your fingers finally sliding into your panties, finding your pussy wet and swollen and needy.

When you don’t respond except with a sharp gasp, Jaemin asks, “Are you touching yourself?”

His voice turns seductive. “You have to tell me if you are, angel—best friends tell each other this sort of thing. I have to know when you’re fingering your needy little cunt.”

“Oh god, Jaemin,” you cry softly, your breaths coming harsher. But you don’t for a second consider hiding what you were doing from your best friend. “Yes, I’m t-touching myself.”

“Good girl,” he praises, making warm pride curl through your chest as more wetness flooded your core. “Touch that pretty pussy for me.”

“H-how would you know it’s pretty?” you ask on a gasp, forcing the question out between hitching breaths as you slowly trace a finger around your dripping hole, teasing yourself and making you wetter.

“Because everything about you is pretty, angel. The way you laugh at me when I’m drunk, the way you bite your lip when you’re unsure, the way you look at me… fuck, you’re so fucking pretty.”

Your finger pauses and you suck in a deep breath, thoughts running chaotically. Jaemin had never complimented you like this before, and you couldn’t help yourself from asking a question you desperately wanted an answer to.

“How do I look at you, Jaemin?” you ask in a small voice, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in the expression he’d just mentioned.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know,” he teases. “You look up at me, giving me the dirtiest fuck me eyes possible. Fluttering your pretty eyelashes like you’re begging me to bend you over every surface and stuff you full of my cock.”

“Jaemin,” you cry out in a little sob, emotions and arousal swirling through your body completely overwhelming you for a moment.

“I know angel,” Jaemin’s voice is soothing and deep. “I know you give those eyes to me.”

He paused for a moment and all you could hear was his deep, steady breathing.

“Because you’re mine, yeah?” There was a thread of uncertainty in his question, and it made your heart thump in response.

“Yeah,” you agree without hesitation, without protest. “I’m yours, Jaemin.”

“Good,” he declares. Without giving you time to fully process what had just transpired between the two of you, Jaemin continues speaking, his voice diving an octave lower and growing rough. “Now slide one of your fingers into that pretty pussy of yours.”

It was so easy to listen to him, to give yourself over to his command. Letting his deep voice reverberate in your head, heat curling all through your body down to the tips of your toes, as you press one of your fingers into your wet hole. A soft moan tumbles from your lips and you knew Jaemin heard it from the way he sucks in a breath.

“That’s it, angel, being so good for me,” his breaths coming harsher down the phone line. “Tell me how it feels.”

You sink into the sensations and the sound of his voice, letting your eyes fall closed. You feel like you’re floating in the soft sea of your bed as you pull your finger out and thrust it back inside your pussy.

“Feels so good,” you answer in another moan.

Jaemin responds with a groan of his own. “Bet you’re fucking tight,” he says, breath heavy and raw. “Bet you’re clenching down on your little finger, aren’t you?”

Like your body was trained to respond to his voice, your pussy clenches around your finger at his words and you let out a hitching moan. But Jaemin doesn’t stop talking. His deep, hoarse voice fills your ears and makes you hotter and hotter.

“Fuck, angel, keep going—keep fingering that wet pussy for me while I stroke my dick to those sweet little sounds you make,” he urges, as he bit back his groans. You moan and gasp in response to his filthy words. “Fuckin’ hell, I wish it was your warm cunt gripping me right now, clenching hard around my thick cock while I fuck you.”

“Please,” you beg, not sure what exactly you were asking for but knowing you didn’t want him to stop talking. You add another finger to your dripping hole, crying out at the slight stretch.

“Would you like that, angel?” he asks, managing to fill his tone with teasing even as his heavy breaths gave away how turned on, he was. “Tell me—fucking tell me,” he prompts when you don’t respond, too busy fucking yourself with your fingers to the sound of his voice.

A whine forces itself out of your lungs, the simple command sounding so filthy from your best friend’s mouth. “Yes, Jaem,” you whimper an answer between your gasping breaths. “Want you to fuck me.”

“Fuck—fuck,” he groans almost painful. “The next time I see you, that pussy is mine. Gonna bury my face between your thighs and make you come on my tongue,” he promises. “Then I’m gonna shove my cock deep in your cunt and fuck you stupid.”

“Jaemin,” you sob out his name, fucking yourself harder as you picture your best friend hovering over you while you lay in his bed. You imagine how his body would start fucking you into the mattress, his cock buried deep in your pussy, your arms and legs wrapped around him — anything to be close to him.

Through the phone, you hear the soft sound of Jaemin fucking himself into his own fist, the strain in his voice every time he spoke.

Imagining your best friend sprawled on his bed, jeans open just enough for him to have his cock out, gripping and pumping his length roughly with his eyes squeezed shut. Thinking about him like that makes you whimper.

“Fuck—I can’t stop thinking about how pretty you’d look while I fuck you, angel,” he murmurs. “Wanna see my cock stretch you while I pound into you, wanna see your pretty lips swollen from my kisses as you moan for me, wanna see your eyes go all hazy as you get stupid on my cock.”

As he speaks, your thumb circles your clit and you moan loudly into the phone. Your best friend’s filthy words make your pussy clench down hard on your fingers as you get closer and closer to your release.

“Don’t stop, Jaem, please don’t stop,” you beg breathlessly. Jaemin lets loose a deep groan in response to your desperate plea, the sound making your thighs clamp down hard around your hand. You wish your legs were wrapped around his waist instead of your wrist.

“Fuck your pussy, angel, nice and hard.”

You cry out as you force a third finger, making yourself stretch to take the intrusion.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl, fuck yourself stupid to the sound of my voice,” he encourages.

Even with how far gone you are, you can hear the cocky grin in his tone, but your body just flushes and clenches tight in response. Desperately, you fuck yourself harder, hips rocking into your hand, mind drowning in lust as you gasp and moan into the phone. Knowing he can hear you only urges you not to hold back.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Jaemin groans loudly, his breath coming in sharp pants. “Keep making those cute little sounds for me, my cock is aching for you—fuck!” The cockiness in his tone fades into desperation.

“Jaemin,” his name tumbles past your lips.

You’d said your best friend’s name countless times over the years, but never like this—never with your fingers buried deep in your cunt wishing it was his thick cock.

“Jaem, I need…” you trail off, not even knowing what you need, just knowing he was the only one who could give it to you.

“You need my cock, don’t you?” You can hear the way his grin curls at the edges of his mouth. “Need my cock just like I need your pussy.” He bit off the end of his sentence with a groan. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me come,” he moans. “Gonna come so hard to your sweet little moans, angel.”

You gasp and your back arches off your bed when you rub your thumb roughly over your clit. You moan so shamelessly for your best friend. “So close.”

“When I fuck you,” he starts, cutting himself off abruptly as he groans again. “When I fuck you, angel, I’m gonna make you come so hard on my cock,” he promises, voice rough and deep you swear you can feel the pleasure from the sound shooting from your ear directly to your clit. “And while you’re screaming my name and coming all over my dick, I’m gonna bury myself in that sweet pussy and pump you full of my load—you want my come, angel?”

“Yes, Jaemin, please come inside me, fill me up,” you babble, so close to your own release you barely know what you’re saying.

“That’s it. That’s my slutty little angel, begging for my come.” He groans, stroking himself faster. “Come for me, come for your best friend,” he commands, pausing to moan lowly. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“I’m yours, Jaemin, all yours,” you cry out. With one more deep thrust of your fingers, the heel of your hand grinding against your clit, you come apart.

You moan loudly as waves of pleasure surged through you, consuming you. Your limbs shaking as you wrench every ounce of pleasure from your release, fucking yourself through it as you breathe fast and harsh.

“That’s my good girl. Coming so sweetly for me, so perfect.” He grunts. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! You made me come so fucking hard, angel,” he mumbles, a little breathless.

Since you hadn’t fully regained control over your body, you just hummed in delight. You were still riding the aftershocks of your orgasm, your lips turned in a smile while you listened to Jaemin catching his breath.

“Like hearing me come apart for you?” He teases the question. “Wish you were here to clean up the mess you made.”

“Jaem,” you try to put some reproach into your voice but fail miserably as you giggle.

“Don’t worry, you can help the next time I see you.”

The line goes quiet for a moment, the two of you gathering yourselves together. “You’re still my best girl, right?” he finally asks, and you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah,” you whisper, “I’m your girl.”

“That’s good to hear,” he murmurs, sighing contentedly, and you can tell he was starting to drift off. “Because all of me is yours, angel. And I plan on showing you that when I’m back.”

#jaemin smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct x reader #jaemin x reader #nct dream x reader #jaemin scenarios #nct scenarios #nct hard hours #kpop smut

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rizsu · 21 days

Text

fuck my life; hold me tight. model!gojo satoru ⭒ fem-reader.

satoru came back after his two-week long trip for his modeling gigs. he's the same, but who's this ‘saori’ lady with a thorny stick up her ass? wc : 6.2k · usage of y/n.

+ love ‘su: thou shall not lie, thou shall not cheat! 😝 i left this without the small font bc it's lowkey a lot tbh

one › who's this?

undoubtedly, today’s the most important. you’ve been impatiently crossing off the days on the calendar until satoru returns. familiar with your excitement, he called you prior to hold you back from coming to the airport. it was strange, but nevertheless you thought less of it.

with your day now free, you spent it preparing for satoru. his favorite dishes were made, charcuterie board prepared, and the series you both watched together can be resumed. every time the thought of seeing satoru with your eyes again comes about, you get goosebumps. it’s almost sickening how he’s plagued your mind, becoming the balance-shifting object for your moods.

your eyes shift to the clock, realizing that there’s only an hour until he walks through the door. 4:00 p.m it reads, you’ve yet to shower — let alone choose an outfit. some may say your actions are too much, but nothing is ever “too much” when it comes to satoru. have you lost your marbles? not all, but perhaps you’ve become slightly boy crazy (with justifying reasons!)

4:58 p.m: you’re anxiously switching between apps on your phone, trying your best to not stare at the clock on the top of the screen. it’s insanely tempting, but you won’t give in. there’s no better distraction than window shopping on websites for items you’ll never set free with your credit card.

the door slams open, and soon a cheerful voice follows. they both jerk you out of your trance, leaving you with the pair of a palpitating heart and widened eyes.

“BABY!” a disheveled satoru shouts, recklessly dropping his luggage at the front of the door.

he walk-runs past the furniture, dodging the table corners until he’s nearing the sofa you’re situated on.

“sa-SATORU?!” you’re shocked even though you expected his arrival.

you unconsciously stood up, abandoning your phone as you moved to him. satoru mirrors you, being the first of the two to engulf you into a heartfelt hug. he squeezes you hard, burying his head into the junction between your neck and shoulder. his hand cups the back of your head, pressing softly into your hair.

“i missed you,” he whispers, letting out a shaky breath. “it took an entire week to sleep properly without you.”

“you’re addicted,” you joked, lifting a hand to ruffle his already-ruffled hair.

“not funny.”

“okay, okay, sorry. i missed you too.” you pull away from satoru, smiling at his pouting expression.

your hands move to his shoulders, gripping his puffed jacket to pull them down. he helps you by moving his arms out of it. once it’s off, he rolls his shoulders back, rolling his neck around to stretch his muscles. he’s been cooped up in a sitting position for twelve hours; the last thing he needs are stiff muscles and a sore body.

content with the new, relaxed feeling, satoru looks around. everything’s the same, as expected. nothing changed other than the charcuterie board on the coffee table and the dishes on the dining table. immediately, he recognizes the food. how could he not? it’s the food he labeled as his favorite even when it wasn’t.

in multiple attempts to please your mother on the first meeting, he went along with her words.

the soap opera she’s caught up in? oh, he’s been watching it too!

short videos she found on social media that are painfully unfunny? actually, it’s hilarious!

the lunch she cooked? it’s now something he’s been craving for weeks.

the salad? to you, he hates greens since they’re ‘flavorless’. to your mother? golly! put more on his plate!

he spent the week at your parents’ gaslighting himself until it became the truth. he became a new man after the meeting. lemon water was his new go-to (influenced by your mother) and card games are his forte (influenced by your father).

ever since then the main dish your mother cooked up became his true favorite. maybe it’s because of the warmth that came with it, or maybe it’s because he’s still gaslighting himself. nonetheless, he’ll always eat it.

“did you make all this yourself?” he questions, stealing a bite before you could’ve plated his food.

“hands off,” you slapped his hand, “i didn’t, though. i asked my mother.”

“ah, my mother-in-law. i miss your parents, too. we should visit,” he suggests, rubbing his hand that you heartlessly slapped.

“mhm, soon,” you agreed, sliding his plate to him. “let’s sit and eat.”

──

the plates are cleared, the charcuterie board’s three-quarters finished, and you’re on the final episode of season one of the show. satoru’s head is on your lap, busying his hands by poking at your thigh’s skin. your hand’s following suit, busying itself by playing with his hair strands.

the show was long forgotten, being demoted to background noise the moment you asked satoru to tell you all about the trip. you’ve heard the details beforehand during your calls, but it’s different to hear it face-to-face.

you intently listened as he talked, giving him mhms and yeahs to let him know you’re listening.

“oh, and i met a new co-worker? friend? i dunno but we’re acquainted now,” he speaks, looking up to you.

“really? i’m glad. is he a model too?”

“yeah, but it’s a she.”

you paused for a second. a she? that’s new. you’re not the type to anger yourself over your boyfriend befriending the opposite gender, but you’d still like to see her.

“i’d like to meet her,” you said, looking down at him with a soft smile.

“are you free in two days? i have a meeting that day. she’ll probably be there — no chances though, i never asked about her schedule...” his voice trails off as he ponders, trying to remember if she mentioned anything about being in a meeting after the trip.

“of course i’m free. i took a sick leave on purpose for this week.”

satoru laughs at the new information. you took a sick leave just for him? at your position of head assistant? he’ll never find someone who loves him like you do.

— two days after : the meeting.

you’re walking hand-in-hand with satoru through the hallway. you’re a little — no, incredibly nervous. it’s your first time officially meeting satoru’s business buddies. they know of you, you know of them, but that’s about it.

you dressed yourself up professionally, trying to match the classy rich vibes. it’s times like these you appreciate satoru’s over-the-top, multiple-zeros gifts. you’ll have to remember to give him special thanks for this.

“okay, we’re here,” he says, knocking you out of the nervousness.

“if you start feeling uncomfortable, squeeze my hand, okay? i’ll take you out of there,” reassuring you, he gifts you a peck on your forehead, topping it off with his genuine smile that’s only for you.

his hand turns the door knob, walking in with his model smile as he greets the members. you’re tailing behind him, trying to hide. the sudden energy shift didn’t match yours, so your instinct to hide behind satoru kicked in. unluckily for you, your boyfriend was set to formally introduce you. he uses a hand to hold your wrist, pulling you to the side of him.

“you brought a plus one with you i see,” a guy notes the obvious, smiling at your shyness. he already has an idea of who you are.

his words catch the attention of others. within seconds every pair of eyes landed on you. unfamiliar with the amount of attention, you squeezed satoru’s hand, placing a fake smile to mask your uncomfort.

“nuh uh, get your own. that’s too much staring,” satoru complains, squeezing back your hand. he steps in front of you, leading you both to two reserved seats at the table.

“i’m assuming that lady must be the one you talked everyone’s ears off about,” a lady suggests this time, stretching out her arm to you as she’s on the opposite side, but directly in front of you.

you stretched your arm out to her, accepting her handshake.

“i’m (y/n), pleasure to meet you.”

“it’s a pleasure to meet you too. call me mia,” she introduces herself, ignoring the heated glare of a man who doesn’t like sharing.

similarly, you’re ignoring the gut feeling of someone glaring through your soul. the situation feels similar to your teacher staring at you during an exam when you secretly have cheating materials with you.

the meeting continues on. you were introduced to everyone and met with questions. some complained about satoru to you, and others asked how you’re able to tolerate him. of course, satoru took offense. he flipped them off with the finger that has your matching rings on.

an hour later, you’re in the building’s cafeteria with satoru. it was okay; the atmosphere was friendly — minus that one person who glared at you. you don’t know who they are, nor what they look like as you avoided that corner. your social battery is drained, and you’re hungry for a light snack.

“baby, can you order for us? i gotta let it go. real bad,” satoru says, balling his fingers into a fist to hold back the feeling.

“uh, sure, but what do you mean let it go?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“piss, baby. piss. love you, bye!”

with that, satoru speeds off, almost colliding with another worker in the process.

gathering your order, you looked around for an unoccupied table to sit at. unfortunately, they’re all unoccupied. it’s a little awkward, but you’re left with no other option than to ask someone if satoru has his own office.

“ah, mia!” you called out, spotting her outside the smoking room.

“(y/n)! need anything before i smoke?” she smiles, pointing at the door.

“um, do you know if satoru has his own office?” contrary to your nervousness, your voice came out perfectly.

“take the elevator and press number ten. turn left and stop until you’re at the third room; that’s his office.”

“thanks much, mia!” you gave her a bright smile, turning around to find your new destination.

“no problem, (y/n),” she waves you off, entering the smoking room.

you followed mia’s directions, taking the elevator to floor ten and entering the third room on the left. it’s no doubt that the office is satoru’s. the pineapple-framed mirror confirmed it all. that mirror is the same mirror satoru try to convince you that it’s “in style”.

settling down in his office, you can finally be at rest. placing the food his desk, you plopped yourself down on his chair.

‘it’s comfortable, but surely it doesn’t take that long to pee,’ you think, suspecting that satoru may have gotten caught up in a conversation.

the door clicks, opening to reveal someone. your mind thought of satoru, but it was indeed not. it wasn’t even the right gender. a beautiful girl entered; her aura was a cool, mysterious, “i’m better than you” feel. confusion poured down on you. who is she and why is she here?

you don’t strike a conversation. instead, you simply watch her walk into the office until she’s in front of the desk.

“do you need some—”

“you must be gojo satoru’s bitch.”

“excuse me?” not only were you cut off, you were called a bitch. clearly, she’s not on friendly terms, and who does she think she is?

she looks down at you, placing a taunting smile on her lips. you don’t care since you’re the one on his chair, but who is she calling a bitch?!

“compared to satoru, you’re… low, to put it kindly!”

“okay, but who asked you that?” you questioned her, rolling your eyes.

if you were in a fantasy novel, she’d be the main villainess who’s engaged to the male lead for political reasons. you’re the female lead who’ll become victim to the villainess’ antics as the male lead, satoru, fell for you.

flustered at your sentence, she scoffs. compared to the shy persona you displayed at the meeting, you’re all bitchy now.

“i don’t need someone to ask me something in order to speak my mind.”

“oh my god. i didn’t ask you that, nor do i want your input.” you rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink.

“i don’t like you. you’re not good enough for satoru,” she voices her (unwanted) opinions, scanning you up and down.

“it’s gojo to you, missy. who’s the girlfriend here?” you noted her mistakes while making your position obvious.

she rolls her eyes, offended at being called ‘missy.’

“and it’s saori, not missy. get it right.”

“why must you disturb my tranquility with your nonsense ? please exit, missy.”

“i said it’s—”

“saori? why are you here?” satoru enters, removing his coat in the process.

“that’s what i asked her,” you said, looking at her up and down with a raised eyebrow.

“i wanted to meet your girl-friend, satoru!” suddenly her tone changed. the space she put between the word girlfriend didn’t go unnoticed by you either.

this is ridiculous.

he slowly nods, thinking that the deliberate pause between girlfriend might’ve been his imagination.

“oh, i was gonna introduce you guys. you beat me to it,” he pouts, walking over next to you to give you another kiss.

you smiled at satoru but smirked at saori.

irritated, she huffs, “i’ve seen enough, call me when you’re free from that, satoru.”

both of you watch her walk out in silence. satoru’s now confused.

“what’s that about?” he asks, scratching his head.

“is she the friend you talked about?” you answered his question with your question.

“yeah, but i don’t know why she has such an attitude all of a sudden. did her boyfriend argue with her?”

“pfft— she has a boyfriend?” you scoffed, learning that she’s not only the bitch, but potentially unloyal. why else would she bother you, who’s satoru’s girlfriend, if it wasn’t because she likes him?

he nods, shrugging off the curiosity to know what’s with her shift in behavior.

“whatever, let’s eat, baby.”

──

it’s way past your bedtime, and you’ve just arrived home. the day was eventful, minus the missy encounter, but nonetheless you had fun.

although you’re glad to be acquainted with satoru’s peers, you couldn’t shake off the suspicion that sao-whatever-her-name-is has been making advances to satoru while your presence was absent.

you can tell that satoru holds no affection to her, but you’re still worried. satoru’s loyal, yes, but he’s an oblivious idiot. if he nor you isn’t the one flirting, he wouldn’t notice anything. that’s why her behavior change whenever he’s around is seen as “friendly” and not “i want you so bad” to him.

you sighed, shaking your head to rid it of her. what’s important is that satoru isn’t interested in her. you can sleep with that comforting image in mind.

now that satoru’s home, you’ve been attached to each other like the north and south pole of two magnets. inseparable. it’s been like this for a week, but something changed.

two › is it just you or…?

the sao-still-don’t-remember-her-name missy has been ringing satoru’s phone down whether it’s by messages, voice messages, or calls. at this point, it’s annoying. satoru himself was one call away from blocking her, but he couldn’t.

aside from satoru himself, she’s the other key member in the new project. if he suddenly draws a line between them it can become what kills the project. thankfully, the conversations have been limited to work-related topics… or so you believe.

you’re on the sofa, indulging in a new show as you peeled an apple. the show’s plot became so intense that your eyes are glued to the television instead of the apple.

satoru jugs down the stairs, grabbing his car keys and running over behind you. he bends over to place a kiss on your cheek, notifying you that he’ll be meeting up with saori. not paying any mind to him, you bid him goodbye without thinking.

it’s only after he exits the door you register what he said. ‘meeting up with saori? that bitch? ew,’ you shuddered at the thought of her. she’s not scary, definitely not ugly, but sure as hell is a bitch. at least you remember her name now.

──

after that day, satoru’s free time has been occupied with her. you’re now sure it’s not “just work” that’s been going on. you trust satoru, but you don’t trust her.

there’s no reason for someone to meet up with their co-worker every day for work. work is never that interesting. it’s not like they’re in charge of the project either; the project is within the authority of mia and some other guy.

everything about the situation at hand has been bothering you. was she attached to satoru like this during the trip? were they always within arms length of each other? not even you were that clingy to satoru.

the idea to raise alarm bells to satoru crossed you, but the potential argument that may follow is what has you hesitating. you don’t want to suspect satoru’s friend, but her behavior needs to be discussed.

you waited until satoru’s home, showered, and comfortable in bed to bring forth the question. your palms are sweating, but it needs to be done.

“say satoru, can i ask you something?” you hesitated, looking at him.

“yeah, why not?” he replies, eyes stuck on his phone.

“what do you think of that girl?”

“who’s that— do you mean saori?” he laughs, “she’s cool, if i were to be honest. she’s fun to hang around with.”

“has it ever crossed your mind that she likes you?” you cold sweat, worried that he’ll take offense.

“who wouldn’t like me? i’m sexy,” he jokes, winking at you.

you playfully slap his chest. “i’m being serious here!”

“i don’t think she does— or at least i hope she doesn’t. i don’t want to be her boyfriend’s archenemy,” satoru truthfully responds, feeling his pores raise at the thought of a taken man’s enemy.

if you were to like another man satoru would honestly write a will and erase himself from history. so, it’s only natural that he hopes saori doesn’t become her boyfriend’s pain.

you hum, satisfied with his answer. it’s clear as day now. satoru doesn’t view her in any romantic way, but you know she has a thing or two for him.

not wanting to push your luck, you end it there. pulling satoru’s phone away to throw your body on his.

three › wicked witch of the west.

it’s almost as if the conversation with satoru triggered a chain reaction. for whatever the reason may be, you’ve now seen this woman more than your own parents. she invites herself over almost every day.

every time you open the door it’s her snobby face. it sickens you. you ordered a package recently and whenever someone knocks on the door, you think it’s the delivery guy, but nope! it’s the wicked witch of the west!

today it happened again. someone knocked, you opened, missy appears, satoru unwillingly follows her for the sake of the project, you’re left with murderous intent.

it’s time you talk about this with someone. that’s right, you’ve kept your worries inside you but this is just too much! there’s no reason for a taken lady to follow another man like she’s his shadow — far less for a taken man!

frustrated, you phoned your friend.

“hey, utahime.”

“(y/n), my baby! how are you?”

“i’m okay-ish, how about you?”

“i’m good, but what’s up?”

“well… can i come over? i’ll tell you there. i just need to get out.”

“of course you can! you were always here before that thing of a man took you over.”

“all right, i’ll be there in ten!”

──

utahime’s home always brought you comfort; it’s where you go when you needed to escape. due to her dislike for people outside her circle, not everyone knows of her address— especially not satoru.

she engulfed you in a hug the moment she opened the door. you can’t hide anything from utahime, she knew you were out of it from your face.

“i’ll put ramen on the stove, go make yourself comfortable,” she ordered, closing the door behind you.

you followed her words, throwing yourself face first on her sofa. you loudly groaned, annoyed at the idea of saori getting all touchy-touchy with your satoru.

“let’s talk about it,” utahime speaks, pausing the television before she sits on the floor next to you.

you lift your head to look at her, open your mouth, and close it back. ‘let’s not question it,’ you think, knowing that utahime prefers the floor at home ever since you knew her.

“so… there’s this girl named saori—”

“i knew i should’ve ran over satoru yesterday.”

“and then— wait— HUH???” you sputtered, shocked at utahime’s words.

“i saw him crossing the street by himself yesterday. it took a lot of convincing to not floor the gas pedal,” she sighed, knowing she missed the jackpot. “anyway, continue.”

your mouth hangs open for a few more seconds before you regain yourself.

“right… anyway. she’s satoru’s new co-worker and i don’t like her. on our first meeting she called me ‘satoru’s bitch’ and after that she’s been occupying his free time every-fucking-day. she has a BOYFRIEND! like damn bitch! move away from my boyfriend,” you dumped the information on utahime, shoving your head back into the cushion.

“my baby, just said the word,” utahime faces you, moving her hand to pat your back.

“for what?” your voice comes out muffled.

“to put a bounty on their heads.”

a groan leaves you. there’s no hope.

“i’m kidding, i’m kidding. we can devise a plan, however.”

your head perks up. your attention has been successfully gained. utahime stands up, a bright smile adorns her face. you have a major feeling that something mischievous is going to play out real, real soon. utahime never smiles so brightly unless she’s plotting something despicable.

you squint your eyes at her, watching her back as she walks to the kitchen.

“‘hime…”

“don’t worry; just trust me.”

6:43 p.m: you’re now being a sack of potatoes on utahime’s bed. the day flew by and you haven’t heard from satoru ever since he left. no way it won’t leave a sour taste in your mouth, but you couldn’t find the energy to care at this moment.

you're preoccupied on utahime’s laptop, carefully choosing the perfect inner-walls design for the house game you stumbled upon. interior design might just be your new job.

deep into the game, your phone rings. you groan in annoyance, picking your phone up to see who decided it’ll be a good time to bother you.

satoru is calling you.

clicking your tongue, you slid on the green button.

“satoru, what’s up?”

“babe, are you home?”

“i’m not, why?”

“whyyyyy? i brought food for you.”

“i’ll have it when i’m home. sorry i’m not there right now, satoru.”

“oh, i almost forgot. saori’s here too.”

“ew— i mean, okay. don’t let her near my stuff nor our room.”

“yeah, bye baby. i love you.”

“i love you too.”

“that’s so disgusting. get out of my house,” utahime voices her feelings, screwing her face up at the sight of you being lovey-dovey with satoru.

you laughed at her, returning your attention to the game. utahime walks to her closet, choosing an outfit for the night. she’s fresh out of the shower, wet hair wrapped up in a towel. you can hear her grumbling something along the lines of “i hate couples” as she threw clothes on the floor to look for “that one black pajama shorts.”

once successful, utahime threw herself onto the bed. she took over your phone, going into your messages for her chat to send herself photos you’ve long forgotten to send. never will she ever ask you for photos after the hangout.

“by the way,” she says, “what did that man call for?”

you sigh, looking at her with a blank expression, “saori’s gonna be there.”

“does she even have her own life? that saowhore or whatever you said her name is.” utahime rolls her eyes, her mood immediately soured.

shrugging, you click your tongue, “it is what it is. this game is more important.”

──

it took not one, not two, not three, but five attempts to convince utahime to let you go home. she was completely against the idea of letting you drive home alone when it’s 10 p.m.

you would’ve given in if it wasn’t for the dreadful feeling that you need to be home. you basically sped through the roads, and most definitely ran a red light accidentally. nevertheless, you arrived safely.

suddenly, your heartbeat races. a heat creeps up the back of your head; you can feel a headache in the making. something’s telling you that you’ll need to confront a certain someone.

opening the door as quietly as you can, you stepped in, removing your shoes and tiptoeing inside.

maybe you should’ve let utahime go through with her plans.

the sight before you disgusts you as much as satoru disgusts utahime. why, just why, is this woman still here? is she crazy? why are her legs on satoru, and why is he allowing it?

“goodness, if i didn’t know better i’d ask you if you’re homeless,” you sarcastically spoke, taking the remote to turn the television off.

“get,” you took hold of one of her legs, shoving it off satoru. “off my fucking boyfriend.”

satoru watches, shocked at the scene. his eyes are unfocused; it’s evident that he zoned out a long time ago.

saori scoffs, moving her leg back on satoru’s lap. “why should i?”

you tilt your head, smiling angelically. the smile lasted milliseconds before it dropped. you’ve had quite enough and she’ll be subjected to your anger.

grabbing her arm, you roughly dragged her off the sofa. saori wasn’t one to accept such treatment. she retaliated, shuffling her arm around until she’s off your grip.

“are you fucking crazy?!” saori yelled, eyes wide with heavy breaths.

“not quite!” you pointed towards the door. “get out before i drag you myself.”

satoru’s silent. afraid of angering you, he stays put and watches from a distance.

“fuck off,” saori speaks, “satoru, text me when you’re off your dog collar.”

your anger reached its peak. grabbing the closest thing, which happened to be a mug, you threw it in her direction, aiming to miss her but hit close enough to her.

“ARE YOU INSANE!?” saori’s stumbles to the side, clenching her jaw, looking down at the broken pieces of the ceramic mug.

the scene alarms satoru, he decides to do something. standing up, he reaches for your wrist, pulling you to him.

“i think it’s time you leave, saori. i didn’t even know you were still here,” satoru’s voice is calm, but filled with authority. his words hold truth to them, he zoned out a while ago, unaware that saori’s still around.

clicking her tongue, her eyes twitch. she couldn’t muster up anything to say. being left with no choice but to listen to satoru, she saw herself out.

the quietness settles in. you were right about the headache, it’s definitely coming in.

“baby—”

“save it,” you stopped him, “but who the fuck is she to think i have you on a dog collar? i’ll put her on a collar.”

guilt settles in satoru, he shouldn’t have brought her in.

“i don’t why she said that. you don’t have me ‘on a dog collar’ i swear,” he rambles, placing a hand on his chest.

your gaze settled on satoru. you’re tired, a headache is there, and you probably went overboard. you’re not in the mood to hear him.

“satoru, i trust you. but i don’t trust her.”

“i’ll make her apologize.”

“ew, no.” you shivered at the thought of her apologizing. “i don’t want you near her anymore. her intentions are too fucking obvious.”

satoru physically hesitates. swallowing a gulp, his words come out quietly, “i can’t ignore her just like that..”

just as you were about to walk away, your head whipped to satoru as if you were slapped in that direction.

“what?”

“the project’s still ongoing, baby. i can’t ignore her just because you want me too.”

“fucking hell. kiss my ass, satoru. kiss her ass too while you’re at it,” you spat, flipping him off as you walked away.

if he can’t ignore her “just because you said so” then he can be ignored by you. maybe he did said something to make her think he’s on a dog collar.

you hear satoru calling for you, but you gave him no attention. you’ll deal with it tomorrow.

four › satoru’s new piercing idea: a bullet through his head.

satoru fucked up. he knows he fucked up. he should’ve said that after you calmed down. it couldn’t have gotten worse than this. the night flew by with you facing your back to him, the morning came with you acting as if he’s invisible.

sure, he fucked up, but at least reply to his good morning?!

he doesn’t know what to do. this is the first time you were angered to this point. usually, he’d be the one to better your mood, but he’s apart of the reason you’re as mad as you are.

your behavior went on for three days. far longer than satoru had anticipated. he’s given you your space, but now he can’t focus on his job.

his co-workers knew something was off with satoru. he’s not his usual self. they knew something happened the moment he declined a free meal. secretly, they gathered around, holding a confidential meeting to discuss satoru’s behavior.

everyone gave their opinions until an agreement was made: a couple’s argument had occurred.

evidence to support? satoru refrained from mentioning you, gave awkward answers when someone asked about you, and sulked when he looked at his lockscreen which was you.

saori, however, advanced her advancements to satoru. today was another day of her throwing her cleavage at him.

the photoshoot theme included two persons, but they weren’t meant to touch. they needed to act like enemies, but saori’s touching satoru as if he’s an all-you-can-touch event.

her hands slid down his chest, stopping at his abs. satoru doesn’t react— his eyes are empty, it’s clear that he wants the photoshoot to be over.

mia observed the two ever since the business trip, and she came to the conclusion that saori’s craving a place she was never meant to have.

“well aren’t you a little handsy, miss saori,” mia calls out, stopping the cameraman. “had i not known your boyfriend, i would've thought you were single.”

“who asked?” saori gives an attitude, but she moves her hand from satoru. the mention of her boyfriend bothered her.

the staff goes silent. a tension forms in the atmosphere. the calm before the storm, as they call it.

mia walks towards the two, placing a hand on saori’s shoulder when she nears her.

squeezing her shoulder, she leans down to saori’s level, “who’s the boss here? you’re chatty for a little girl who wants others’ belongings.” mia taunts, her voice cold.

saori gulps, slapping mia’s hand off her.

the action doesn’t bother mia in the slightest. instead, she leans to saori’s ears, whispering the unfortunate truth to her, “satoru will never want you, saori. remember that.”

straightening her posture, mia turns around to walk back to her designated position.

“back to work, everyone!”

with her order, everyone returns back to their previous doings. the tension is still heavy, and satoru’s still holds his empty gaze.

──

a thirty-minute break was called. at this moment, to each their own. the staff scrambled around, but satoru stayed put.

“saori,” his voice drags, “let’s talk alone.”

her expression brightens, feeling the butterflies tingle in her stomach. but little does she know, satoru’s about to act out of the character she knows him to be.

“s-sure! let’s do it in your dressing room,” she suggests, pulling satoru there.

once they’re in, she locks the door behind them. satoru sighs at the sight, but he doesn’t say anything about it. there’s something else he came here for.

“saori, do you like me? romantically?” he asks, leaning on the wall with crossed arms.

“i do,” she boldly confirms.

“then stop. you’re getting in between my relationship with (y/n),” he glares at saori, deciding it’s time to draw the line.

“ha, you’re still on that leash i see,” she scoffs, walking towards satoru until they’re face-to-face. “i’m better, satoru. you should choose me.”

satoru unfolds his arms, using one to push her away.

“saori, i’ve thought of you as nothing but a co-worker, a friend. you cannot be (y/n). so please, stop.”

clenching her jaw, saori tugs at satoru’s shirt’s collar, “i don’t give a flying fuck! you should be mine.”

satoru feels disgusted, a chain of chills cover his body. has saori always been like this?

“you have a boyfriend, for fuck’s sake!” he slaps her hand away, moving towards the door.

before he unlocks the door, he stops, turning around to clarify something before he forgets to, “oh, and if anything, the truth is that i’m the one who placed a dog collar on myself. so watch your mouth.”

with that, he leaves her alone, walking to where mia’s positioned.

“mia,” he calls for her.

mia turns to him, eyes wide for a second before she returns to her usual expression.

“need something, lovesick boy?” she teases, raising her eyebrows at him.

“if saori isn’t withdrawn from this project, then i’ll withdraw myself,” he threatens, running a hand through his hair exposing his forehead.

‘i’m not sure if this is unexpected or expected,’ mia thinks, not surprised at satoru’s request. it was only a matter of time.

“i’ll withdraw her. she pissed me off, too,” giving satoru her answer she pauses, and then continues, “but you really need to learn how to tell apart platonic actions from romantic.”

satoru cringes at her words, “ugh, leave me alone. i’m leaving.”

“you’ll be penalized for leaving during working hours!”

“blah blah blah.”

──

satoru’s destination was obvious. it’s your shared home. he would make his business to break the ice first.

messily unlocking the door, he kicks his shoes off, immediately looking for you. you’re not on the sofa, not in the bathroom, not in the kitchen, where the fuck are you?!

checking off your usual spots, he’s left with one: the bedroom.

quietly opening the door, he peeks in, observing the room for you. once he found you, he tiptoed in.

your back was turned to the door. whether you were sleeping or not was the least of his problems. he’ll wake you up if he has to.

“baby,” he carefully speaks, sitting on the edge of the bed with a hand on your blanketed figure.

you don’t answer him, but you do turn around to face him.

“i talked to saori. we won’t be in contact any time soon.”

“oh wow,” you said.

he clears his throat at your sarcasm, “ahem— anyway, i told her off, and asked for her to be removed from the project.”

“what made this sudden change? i thought you were glued to her.”

“she was glued to me!” he clarifies.

“tomato, tomahto. potato, potahto.”

ignoring your snarky remarks, he continues, “i told her about the ‘dog collar’ comment. i even told her to watch her mouth. i’ll cut contact with her on my phone, too.”

“so she’s gone? completely?” you questioned, removing a hand from under the blanket.

“yeah, i received a divine revelation and came to my senses. really, i thought she saw me as platonic as i saw her. i swear!” he confirms his innocence, staring at you with sadden eyes.

“you’re still a bitch,” you said, “i almost allowed utahime to go through with her bounty plan.”

sitting up, you took one of satoru’s fingers in your hand, “i’m glad you did that, but i’m still mad. you made me want to tell you to go fuck her and done with it.”

satoru’s mouth hangs open at the newly gained information.

“i didn’t, as you can see. i still love you so such words would never be spoken.”

“‘still’ she said.”

“don’t push it.”

a laugh escapes him. not listening to your warning, he pulls you into a hug. this time, it was a hug of desperation and relief. his head’s buried in your neck, breathing in the body mist you always wear at home.

“i’m sorry,” he apologizes.

“dear god, fuck that bitch i hope she dies,” you comforted satoru, returning his hug and patting his back.

do you have an issue with satoru? no, but he did set you off when he refused to cut contact with her when you asked.

it took him quite some days to see the vision, and you’re glad he did.

hey guys 😣 if anyone’s confused about this part:

“what made this sudden change? i thought you were glued to her.”

“she was glued to me!” he clarifies.

“tomato, tomahto. potato, potahto.”

it simply means “what’s the difference?”

when (y/n) said she thought satoru was glued to saori, satoru responded with “she’s glued to me!”

(y/n) says “tomato, tomahto. potato, potahto.” because it doesn’t matter how you pronounce it since it’s the same word. there’s no difference.

satoru was glued to saori and vice versa so what’s the difference fr

hope this helped 😜

#+ rizsu: jujutsu kaisen.#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x fem!reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #gojo oneshot #jjk oneshot #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo fluff

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vivwritesfics · 2 months

Note

You could do the cowboy hat rule but with Carlos and his "full latino mod", the video of him riding the bull aishoansk maybe the two of you went to this bar and take his hat before ridin the bull and idk

or max, I've seen this edit with this hat (https://vm.tiktok.com/ZM63RyFvU/) I picture him more like a cowboy being like a southern gentleman and he puts his hat in your head

idk idk I give you this two ideas now I kinda want to read both of them (obviously smut)

🧚🏻‍♀️🧚🏻‍♀️🧚🏻‍♀️🧚🏻‍♀️

okay i may do the max one but im in a bit of a carlos mood rn - sounds like you want max to be an actual cowboy (so cowboy au) so pls send this in when the inbox reopens (it might be open by the time this comes out)

warnings: smut

She knew the rule before she did it. Maybe that was why she had done it. The hat was on his head when he came to stand beside her at the bar as she ordered his drink. All he had to do was smile at her and she took his hat from his head, placing it on her own.

Whether he knew the rule, it was unclear. But he smirked at her as they left the bar, drinks in hand.

They spoke, but it was more flirting. Every sentence could have been punctuated with a flirty wink or a dirty raise of the eyebrows. Carlos licked his lips. Goddamn, he wanted to take this girl home.

Her eyes moved to the bucking bronco. A girl currently sat on it, trying her best to ride it, but it wheeled around and she was sent to the floor.

"I dare you," she whispered and kissed the base of his ear.

Carlos couldn't say no to that. He took his hat from her head and placed it on his own, giving her a wink as he did so. He passed her his drink and she looked after it as he headed over to the bucking bronco.

It was quite a sight, the way he swung his leg over the back of the bucking bronco and grabbed the bit of rope that would keep him secure. When it started moving, slowly at first, he sat tall, doing all he could to stay up.

It was easy at first. The bucking bronco was slow, not a challenge for a Formula One driver. But then it sped up. Carlos pulled his hat from his head and held it out, somehow trying to balance himself. But it didn't do much. His moved his body to keep him upright, countering the ways the bucking bronco was moving.

Before long he was on the ground.

Her turn.

Carlos couldn't take his eyes off of her as she swung her leg over the bucking bronco and took her seat. Her tongue moved over her teeth in a teasing way as the mechanical bull began moving.

It looked so easy for her. Holy fuck, Carlos needed something to cover himself. The way her hips were moving, riding the bull. Well, he'd never been jealous of machinery before.

She stayed on for longer than he did. After she was done she returned to Carlos's side and took his drink from him.

Fuck, he needed to get her back to his hotel room.

His hand was on her back as he led her to his hotel room. "I want to fuck you in the cowboy hat," he whispered in her ear as they entered the elevator.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him towards her. "Let me ride you like a cowgirl," she said and kissed the space beneath his ear.

As soon as they were in his hotel room, he lifted her up, his hands on her ass as she kissed him. Carlos had an aura of control, but that wasn't the case. She was in complete control.

Carlos took her into the bedroom as she controlled the pace of their kissing. Her tongue was in his mouth as he sat on the end of the bed. Pulling away from him, she moved against him, her hips moving expertly. It was so close to how she was riding the bull.

He wasted no time in getting her clothes on the floor until the only thing she was wearing was the cowboy hat. She looked at him from beneath the brim of the hat and Carlos took his own clothes off, discarding them.

She wasted no time and climbed back on top of him. Carlos held her hips as she sank down onto his length, her breath hitching. "Fuck," she cried, her eyes squeezed shut.

Carlos laid back as she began moving, her hands against his chest.

She rode him like a fucking cowgirl.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz x reade #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader smut #f1 #formula one #f1 imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #cs55 #cs55 imagine #cs55 x reader

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luv4kozume · 2 months

Text

🎯 𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐎 — MATT STURNIOLO

— # ❝ 𝐈'𝐦𝐚 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐨 ! ❞ 🎧 ₊˚⊹

Cowboy!Matt x Cowgirl!Black!Fem!Reader

Contains: Swearing, lowkey fuckboy!matt, mentions of alcohol, pet names (baby), oral m!receiving, cum eating, fingering, praise, teasing, riding, rebound sex, public(ish) sex, drunk sex, unprotected sex, creampie. Proof read!

Synopsis: A story in which you forget all about your ex after meeting Matt at a costume party.

Word Count: 3,916

💋 — Requested: “can you do a matt smut with a black reader where he sees her at a party and they fuck🙏”

a/n: SAVE A HORSE…. RIDE A WHAT?!?! Also I’m not the fanfic police, you can read no matter what you are, I keep my writing pretty general. Just followed the prompt for the request!! ENJOY BABIES!! 💋💋

Other song mentioned: Killin’ You Hoes by Trina 🤭

*:･ﾟ✧ 💌 *:･ﾟ✧

OCTOBER 31, 2024 ₊˚⊹

“YOU SEE THE OUTFIT, BITCH?” Your friend screamed at the top of her lungs as her acrylics wrapped around the steering wheel, whipping the vehicle around the corner. Nearly scraping her rims against the curb in the process, as she sped down the neighborhood to the tempo of Trina’s song. “CUTE FACE AND ASS SWOLL!”

Your palm flattened against your stomach, your face twisting up in discomfort as you peered out the car window. Your stomach churned with anxiety, but not from your friend’s reckless driving. You had grown accustomed to that.

No, it was something else entirely.

“Girl, what’s the matter? You’re not even finishing the lyrics.” She asks, her tone still high as she turned down the music.

The glitter from her cat-like makeup shimmered against her toned cheeks, the amber streetlights carving out her soft features.

“Nothing.” You lie, turning around to face her. She gave you a side eye before bringing her attention back to the road.

“You’re not still hung up over that bum ass dude, right?” She scoffed in a half joking tone.

You hesitated before answering her question. Had you made it that obvious?

Yes, it may have been true that the only reason why you were all dressed up and going out to this party tonight was because she practically dragged you out of bed.

Your now, ex-boyfriend, dumped you without any sort of warning not to long ago and you hadn’t been the same since. It was a struggle being productive everyday, let alone being social with others.

Your original plans for Halloween were to stay inside and pass out candy to the little kids that came to visit. But your friend quickly shut that “lame-ass” idea down— her words, not yours. You just hadn’t seen the point in doing anything else.

In fact, your costume choice had her name written all over it. You would never in a million years wear this shit, but she successfully picked your brain.

Your eyes glanced down to the bright buckle of your leather belt as your fingers nervously looped under the sleeves of your red flannel. A brown cowgirl hat to match, that annoyingly pressed against the car’s seat each time you’d move.

“No.” You huffed out, rolling your eyes. You had already heard enough of her lectures this week, you were certainly not in the mood for another. Especially since this was supposed to be your night to forget all about him.

“Good. Because I’m gonna tell you right now, I don’t wanna hear shit about him.” A playful smile pulling at her lips, glancing over at your every so often. “Besides, you might even meet someone here.”

“I doubt that.” You sigh, a faint smile spreading across your face.

*ೃ༄

It wasn’t long before you started to feel overwhelmed and slightly agitated. Not even ten minutes into the party, your friend darted straight to the alcohol and slipped in between a group of sketchy looking guys. You watched her from the couch, wishing to not get entangled in that mess.

You only agreed to come out with her tonight because she claimed it help you get your mind off your current situation. But now you were stranded alone in a strange house on Halloween night— left with nothing but the thoughts of your ex swarming in your head.

You blew a raspberry, peering down at your red solo cup that was practically still full. The bass of the music bouncing off the walls and echoing in your head, causing ripples to form in your drink.

You grabbed your phone that buzzed in your pocket. Squinting at the overwhelming brightness before lowering it to read a text from her that appeared on your screen.

bestie bae 💗

I think that guy in the cowboy hat likes you.

Hasn’t taken his eyes off you all night. 👀

You felt your heart drop to your stomach, scanning the crowd of various bodies for the vague description she gave you. Nearly giving up, you just assumed she was tipsy and pulling shit out of her ass. Until you made eye contact with him.

He stood leaning against the wall talking to some other guy. One hand buried into the pocket of his black jeans, the other holding a beer in his hand. A smug grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he glanced over at you. His eyes pierced right through you as if you were transparent, before turning his eyes back to the other man.

His ears were pierced, the silver jewelry shining in the party lights. His sleeves of his red flannel rolled up to his forearms, a trail of dark hair decorating them lightly. Finally, a black cowboy hat rested on top of his head, his brown locks falling gracefully over his forehead.

Your heart fluttered when his eyes shot back at yours for the second time, now eyeing you up and down. His gaze felt like he was slowly undressing you, peeling your costume off inch by inch to get to the most delectable parts.

You squirmed in the cushions of the couch, pressing your thighs together. Maybe it was the cognac, maybe it was the party atmosphere, or maybe it was just him— you couldn’t decipher the exact cause but one thing was for certain; you were most definitely attracted to this man.

You turn away, finally breaking the eye contact from the stranger. Darting them down to your phone to answer her text, but you couldn’t even send your message through before being interrupted by her new one. Warning you that he was coming your way.

“Hey.” He spoke, his tone low and raspy. Sending shivers down your spine. He stood over you confidently, forcing you to look up at him with those round, innocent eyes of yours.

“Hi.” You mumble, shutting your phone off and placing it on your lap.

“I’m Matt.” He revealed, claiming his spot on the empty couch right next to you. His thigh pressing against yours as he manspread, you couldn’t help but take a glance down to his groin.

“Y/N.” You reply, nearly inaudible due to the music still blasting throughout the house. But he didn’t mind, in fact he loved your shyness. It gave him all the more confidence to take leadership. And besides, he knew exactly how the quiet ones were like in bed.

Butterflies swarmed in the pit of your stomach, feeling the warmth of his body heat rush towards you as he leaned over to align his lips up to your ear.

The bass of the music pumping in your chest as you could smell the alcohol on his breath, slightly giving his speech a seductive slur, “What’s a pretty girl like you doing here—” He started, bringing his palm down to your bare legs, gently caressing the plush skin of your thigh, “—all alone?”

You had to exhale a breath in order to answer his question. You grabbed onto his bicep, leaning in towards his ear to whisper back, “Trying to get over an ex.”

“He dumped you?” Matt replied in mere shock.

You could only nod in response, mortified to admit that out loud to anyone that wasn’t your friend.

“What a fucking idiot.” He spat out. “Who would drop a girl like you?”

A faint smile appearing across your face, giving him a playful shrug, “He did apparently.”

A devious grin pulled at the corners of his lips, the same one from just a few moments before. Something sinful on his mind, mentally debating if he should even throw the idea out there.

But of course, his thoughts took over. He just couldn’t help himself, he would always be there for a sweet damsel in distress. And there you were, sitting so helplessly on the couch just begging to be ruined.

“Wanna take this upstairs, so I can show you how much he fucked up?”

*ೃ༄

Alcohol coursed through his veins, leaving him in a frenzy as the music from downstairs blasted through the walls. Your ass hiked up in the air, waving ever so slightly each time you’d lower your head down on his cock.

He had it made up in his mind that your ex had to be mentally deranged to toss a girl like you to the curb, with a mouth like that you’d get anything you wanted from him and more. All you had to say was the word and he’d do it in a heartbeat, no questions asked.

“Fuck baby, just like that.” Matt groaned, his head thrown back into the pillows behind him. “Keep going.”

More praises tumbled out from his lips, leaving you encouraged to go faster. Eager to see what face he’d make or the sounds that would come out from him as he finished.

His hips moving up on their own, slightly bucking up into you. Your mouth closing in on his member is just the right ways as your tongue swirled around his tip that oozed with precum.

Your fingers wrapped around the base, pumping the rest of what you couldn’t fit into your mouth. A pool of saliva bubbling around him and trickling through the gaps of your fingers as you continued bobbing your head up and down.

One of his hands came down, grabbing at your hat and quickly getting rid off it so that he could gaze upon the wondrous sight in front of him. Moving your hair out from your eyes, only for you to look up at him with that same helpless look you had on the couch. It was enough to make him spend right then and there.

His cheeks were flushed and his flannel was unbuttoned, exposing his toned stomach that would rise and fall with each movement of your tongue. A conniving smile tugged at the corners of your lips as your brought your mouth up to his tip, leaving a sloppy kiss against it before flicking your tongue on his slit.

“Fuck. You know what you’re doing, huh?” He groaned with a smirk.

You hummed against him, sending a pleasing tingling sensation all through his body.

“Keep doing that and I’ma cum.” He continued, this time nearly out of breath as his orgasm slowly approached. “Gonna be a good girl for me and take it all?”

“Yes.” You replied in a faint whisper that was hardly audible. Your timidness mixed with your risqué behavior was a dangerous combination. You never broke eye contact with him before slipping your lips past his tip, lowering your head back down as far as you could and pumping the rest with your hand.

His fingers caught in the sheets as he continued feeding you with praises through low grunts and moans. A knot twisting in his stomach as you picked up the pace, his brain completely fogged and all logic thrown out the window. Focusing on nothing else other than his high and the lust he had out for you.

“Oh, shit.” He groaned, his voice low and raspy. His fingers snuck around to the back of your head, pushing your mouth down further onto his dick. The tip hitting the back of your throat as his warm cum spurted out, some seeping past the corners of your mouth and trickled down your chin as he filled it up. “Come on baby, take it.”

Your eyes screwed shut, whimpering against his strong grip for a moment before he let go.

“Open.” He muttered, his hand gripping your face.

You stuck out your tongue, opening your mouth as much as you could. Your heart raced as his thumb pressed against your bottom lip, examining each crease and crevice of your mouth to make sure you did exactly as you were told.

“So good for me. I like that shit.” He smirked as he let go of your lip, amused at how it bounced back up in place.

A giggle slipping past your lips as you crawled up towards him, your knees sinking down into the mattress as you straddled his hips.

One of your hands went straight to his hair, brushing it back from his forehead, tipping off his hat slightly in the process. Your eyes flickered down to his lips, so soft and plump, you craved for them to be on your own.

Without any hesitation, you pressed your lips against his. It started off sweet and delicate almost, with your timid little pecks. But Matt made it clear he needed so much more, slipping his tongue past your lips and his hands navigated their way down to your zipper.

The kiss soon turned into a heated, sloppy mess. The sounds of your lips smacking against his, the mixing of saliva, your teeth clashing together— it all was a sweet melody to your ears that you could listen to on repeat for hours.

Matt swallowed each whimper and plea that slipped past your lips. A pool of your arousal filled up between your legs as his veiny hands removed your denim shirts at an agonizingly slow pace.

Now the only thing keeping your dripping center away from his length was the thin, taunting fabric of your panties— that you so desperately needed ripped off. Your hips instinctively began moving on their own, shamelessly rocking down onto him. So needy to get even the slightest bit of friction.

His fingers dug into the handle of your hips to hold you down into place. Another one of those cocky smirks spread across his face just before pulling away from the kiss. He adored the way you squirmed in his grip, practically crying in protest that he put your greedy, lustful movements to a halt. He absolutely lived for the teasing, he’d argue that it was his favorite part— other than the actual act itself, of course.

“So desperate for my cock, hm pretty girl?” He cooed as his hand traveled down past your stomach.

You tried to give him a response but your mind failed to form a proper sentence. It was completely fogged and consumed with an overwhelming amount of concupiscent thoughts. His finger tips teasingly danced just over the waistband of your panties before finally slipping into them.

Your head dropped down, hiding yourself into the crook of his neck. Your hands clenched around his shoulders, the fabric of his shirt entangling itself in your fingers. A series of whines and cries poured out from you. Taking in the rhythmic movements of his digits. You couldn’t help but grind down into his palm as you felt his fingers trickle down to your entrance.

The way your wetness oozed out from you and coated his fingers had his dick weeping. It ached in excitement to be buried inside you, pushing himself as deep as you’d let him. He could only imagine how it would feel to have your warm, velvety walls wrapped around his cock. You were already so whiny with just his fingers, he wondered how you’d sound with something much larger.

His name escaped past your lips in a breathy moan when you felt two of his fingers slip inside you. He only hummed in amusement, taking in the way your pussy hugged around his fingers so snugly.

“Such a brave girl, taking in the fingers of a stranger. Having me make you feel like this.” He coaxed in way that set your body ablaze, but that didn’t keep him from feeding you even more sweet praises.

“Pussy’s so good, I don’t know how he could ever let this shit go.” He nearly moaned at the way you were sucking him in each time he’d pump his fingers into you.

You whined into his skin, slightly upset that he even brought up your ex. You had forgotten all about him by this point and you wanted to keep it that way.

“Don’t worry.” He begins, gently pulling his fingers out from you, leaving you crying in protest. “I’ma get a taste of what he’s missing. Show you how special you are.”

Your head shot up, a flustered expression written all over your face. Your fingers caressed his jaw, his rough stubble pricking your finger tips, as you pulled him over slightly so that your eyes locked into his. You pressed your lips against his once again, your hands cupping around his face to draw him in closer as his fingers looped under the waistband of your panties.

You lifted your knees up from the mattress, only to bring them back down once Matt maneuvered your underwear off each leg. He groaned into the kiss, eagerness coursing through his veins as he quickly tossed them to the floor. His hand ran down along your back, eliciting a whine from you.

“Gonna ride me, cowgirl?” He grinned, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Mhm.” You hum.

“Help me out.” He replied, referring to the fact that his hands were already quite busy.

You yelped as he raised you up, his fingers digging into the round cushion of your ass. Your dainty fingers shyly wrapped around the base of his dick, one of his veins shamelessly throbbed against your palm.

He sighed watching you place the tip at your entrance, running it along your wetness before finally slipping it inside.

“Oh, fuck.” You cry, it had been embarrassingly long since you last felt a stretch quite like that— it was definitely an adjustment you weren’t exactly prepared to make.

You tugged your bottom lip past your teeth as your palms flattened against his chest, slowly sinking yourself down on his cock. His hands now wrapped around your waist, holding you up straight so that he could see all of you.

“So fucking pretty, baby.” He groaned as he fought the animalistic urge in him to thrust up into you. “Taking my dick so well.”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you fully sat on him, his cock stuffing you so full that you could see the bulge in your stomach. His warm hands roamed all over your body, gripping at your tits, squeezing your waist, groping your ass— anywhere and everywhere. He needed to touch, caress, and massage every single inch of your body.

But he’d be fooling himself if he didn’t see the embarrassment written all over your face— he didn’t want you to feel that way, in fact the complete opposite. So he knew he’d have to take the lead, which he doesn’t mind.

“Come here.” He huffs, his arms extending out so that your body falls into them.

Your head drops back down, hiding in the crook of his neck. His strong arms wrapping around your waist in an almost comforting way as yours draped over his shoulders. You could feel his heavy breaths began to pick up as he slowly began rutting his hips up into you.

You got a waft of his cologne mixed in with the alcohol from earlier, an erotic mixture that made your pussy flutter around his cock. One of his hands stayed on your back, his thumb massaging gentle circles into your skin as the other one made its way back down to your ass.

Your ass was heavy against him in a way that had him about to blow his load, he was lost in a trance at how it clapped against him. He fought the urge to pick up the pace, eager to see the ripple of your flesh and hear those sweet cries pouring out from you.

“You sound so sexy, baby.” He groans, propping up his legs so that his knees were now bent. This way, he’d have more control over the movements of his hips.

You only whine in response, the vibrations of your soft voice going straight towards his ear. It sent a shiver down his spine that had him yearning for more.

Your thick arousal trickled down his member, leaving it glistening in the dim amber lighting that the lamp illuminated in the bedroom. Your pussy squelched each time he’d pump himself in, your plush walls clamping down on him with each movement he made. The horrible slow pace drove him nearly to insanity but he had to make sure that you could handle it at first. But he hadn’t realized that he wasn’t the only one struggling.

“Faster, please.” You pleaded, your breath hitting against a sensitive area on his neck that made him shudder just a bit. Both of his hands now cupping your ass as a sly grin grew on his face.

“Is that what you want, pretty girl?” He whispered, adjusting his hips once more before finally giving your needy little cunt everything it ever wanted. “Nice and fast, having my dick touch that sweet spot of yours? I bet you want my cum too.”

A knot formed in the pit of your stomach and your soft pants soon morphed into desperate, broken moans and cries. He wasn’t kidding at that last comment he made, once he found that spongey area inside you, he didn’t give it a break. He angled his hips in a way so that the tip of his cock kissed that same spot over and over.

His fingers dug into your flesh, most definitely leaving markings to discover for later but you could care less. Matt’s dick had completely swamped your brain, like a parasite slowly taking control of your being— and you absolutely loved it.

Your own hips started grinding against his, your movements complementing his now sloppy thrusts. Your body squirmed in his strong grip as you slowly started unraveling above him. He was awfully close as well, a groan slipping past his lips as his cock twitched along your moist walls.

He continued showering you with even more lewd and sweet praises, so much so that you wondered how many other women he’s said these things to. Here you were, struggling to come up with just a few words while he was tumbling out full, proper and complex sentences.

“Squeezing around so fucking tight. It’s like you’re tryna suck me dry, baby.” Matt moans.

You’re so caught up in chasing your own high that you don’t even notice when one of his hands traveled down past your stomach. A sharp gasp slipped past your lips once you felt his finger tips press into your clit. He wasted no time massaging tight, quick circles into that sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Makes me wanna ask for your number.” He continues in a hum. “Would you like that?”

“S-shit!” You stutter, feeling your walls spasm against his thickness, eliciting a strangled moan from him.

Matt pulls more curses out of you as you rode out your orgasm. His hips still rutting up into as you coated his fingers with your sapid juices.

“So so good for me.” He slurred out, pulling his fingers away from your puffy clit.

Both of his hands now hugged your waist keeping that same sloppy rhythm going with his hips. Your sweet voice filling up his ears and consuming his thoughts as you sobbed out his name.

It wasn’t long before he approached his own orgasm. Your body curled into his as you felt the hot, sticky ropes shoot up into you. A white ring forming at the base of cock as he continued fucking his cum back into you before finally pulling himself out with a pop.

The two of your heartbeats raced in your chests, syncing with one another as your heavy pants filled the room. The erotic aroma of sex filled the room and you mentally cursed yourself for fucking this random man in another stranger’s bedroom.

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#luv4kozume #💌 — request!#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt x reader #sturniolos #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut

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y-rhywbeth2 · 4 months

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Been thinking about Durge romances and how much I love the companions. Many people love Astarion's response when Durge gets their "kill your lover in their sleep" scene and, fair, that was the point that I unfortunately began to genuinely love the pointy bastard. I do enjoy watching him sass Bhaal. Plus you being the only one he's not afraid of in the world and also "we can compare notes" because he recognises what's happening, yes, yes.

And additional honourable mentions to Lae'zel and Karlach:

Lae'zel threatening to bite you back and informing you that if you don't beat Bhaal you will be fighting her and that will be much worse, topped with the gem of "Not to be maudlin, but I'm glad I didn't gut you."

Karlach asking you not to bite her because trying to eat her flesh will hurt you. also she growls back at you. and asking what the fuck you're talking about when Durge goes into one of their, uh, poetic moods. And parallels: "It's bad. I won't say it isn't. But... I've done worse. Powers beyond our control picked us to do their dirty work - that isn't our fault." I mean Durge has absolutely done worse, but I concede the gist of your argument.

But my favourite variants are these three (in no particular order):

Shadowheart's "Hells, what I wouldn't give for a boring lover sometimes" shortly before scolding you - "no biting!" Bad hellspawn! Bad! Use your words! - It's the middle of the night, she's tired, and she expected something way more fun that this damnit. (also; "She was starting to trust you. The only one she ever has. Pity it's coming to an end." *screaming*)

Wyll reminds us he's the one with the high charisma stat in this party with his pep talks: "The coast would sooner be swallowed whole by the Sea of Swords [before I'd hate you]." - "Rise up, meet its gaze. Show it no fear, and grant it no mercy." - "You are a champion. If this foe demands blood, then tear off its limbs and let it drink its own!" Never been more revved up to punch Bhaal in the face, thank you. And Sceleritas directly compares himself to Mizora and aAhHHHhhhhh-!

And then there's Gale, who clearly has no idea what's happening or what do about it. Get it out of your system, he says, trying his best to be supportive. "This is not good, if I may state the obvious." - "No, no clotting. I like my blood flowing in my veins, thank you most kindly." He would prefer not to die, thank you. 10/10. Durge is way too distracted by this to listen to Bhaal right now.

#I love them all #/durge #babbling #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

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indouloureux · 2 years

Note

eddie fic where he's sleeping beside the reader after a heated fight and he makes it up by fucking her from behind?

shisjskssj make up sex *faints.* thank you for requesting! <3

18+ mdni — afab!reader, she/her pronouns, fingering, praising, p in v, unprotected sex, light choking, biting, scratching, creampie

he never thought it would hurt to see your back facing him.

usually it excites him. knowing he'd surprised you, hug you from behind, wrap his arms around your waist and place his chin on top of your head as he greets you with messy kisses.

same goes for tedious nights, spooning you, encasing his own body in yours in benign possession; in a promise of protection to the people who thinks of harming you. eddie feels as though he's keeping his own heart against his chest.

but now, your back facing him squeezes his chest. and you're not even beside him — you're by the edge of the bed, curled into the ball with the blanket halfway through your torso, hands tucked beneath your pillow as you breathe unevenly. you're still awake.

it started at work. at some dingy restaurant where you waitered, serving some greedy and sordid men who thought a hand down your ass was enough of a tip. they never got away with it, because your boss knew it was wrong. and eddie knew that none of it was your fault — of course he did. he should.

but an old friend came over. an old boy-space-friend came over at work. sat on the booth right at the corner. and you couldn't help but catch up, because he was an old friend. but eddie got the wrong idea; standing outside the restaurant with a smile that slowly fell as you laughed and smack some other guy's arm as you did so — the way you'd do to eddie when you couldn't breathe from all the laughter.

he wasn't insecure. eddie knew you loved him. but it didn't mean he would trust the guys around you immediately. watching at the way the old friend eyed you like some fresh meat, the way his hand would go on your shoulder as he laughs like a pretentious dick.

jealousy burnt him alive. it put him in a sour mood even as he picked you up, chastised his kiss by placing it on your cheek, but his hand on your thigh was tighter.

and gasoline rained upon him when you went home.

"come on. i saw the way you touched his arm!"

"it wasn't even a touch, it was a slap! i slap my dad's arm like that all the time. what the hell is wrong with you?"

"maybe if you weren't flirting with some guy, i wouldn't have acted this way."

you weren't even the one who poured it.

as the fire died, residues of leaden smoke pervade the bedroom. as well as your irritation towards his irrationality. because for you, though he may not have said it, you think that he's lost his trust by the simple sight of another man laughing harmlessly with you.

it angers you. how he got jealous — even though you would have felt the same if you ever saw him with some other person. but you know you'd never shout at him, or accuse him of flirting, or any other detrimental acts that could break the chain in your tethered hearts.

but you're young. and you're petty. and you have every reason to be mad. so you are mad. sinking into your side, eyes shut even though the dreams refuse to start. you know eddie's staring at your spine, tracing the color of your thin shirt — your shirt rather than his. a detail he's picked up that leaves a pang to his chest that spreads everywhere.

he thinks of letting this go. letting you sit in your own cottage of anger until its wood has been burnt into nothing but lethal ashes. but if eddie sits this one out, there'll be nothing left to fix; what would ashes do if not be swept away by the wind?

eddie sighs. "(y/n)."

no answer. duh.

"sweetheart."

he gently, so gently, places a hand on your shoulder to shake you carefully. you frown at his sudden touch, but you refuse to move and try to trick him into thinking that you were asleep. because you really just want to sleep.

but ever the fighter, eddie makes another sigh before he's scooting closer to you. until the curve of your back hits his chest and he hooks his arms around your waist, his fingers splayed around your stomach. "baby," he mumbles, pressing his lips on your clothed shoulder.

your tongue clicks with the roof of your mouth, the lines between your eyebrows deepening as you try not to melt into his touch. "what, eddie?"

his nose tickles the crevice of your neck, his breath hot as he huffs against your skin. "i'm sorry, baby," eddie pouts, his head lifting slightly to take a glimpse of your eye and cheek. "i didn't mean to yell. or accuse you."

hesitantly, you open your eyes, staring onto the poster that sticks to the plaster walls of his trailer, but your focus remains on the way his hand is lightly massaging your stomach and his lips that stay on your shoulder.

you turn around, the sheets ruffling along with your heavy huff. eddie etches a small, triumphant smile on his face, even though you're still frowning at him.

"sorry doesn't cut it, eddie," you whisper. his smile withers, licking his lips before he nods in understatement. "you yelled at me. you accused me of flirting with someone else. it's like you don't trust me."

eddie puts his hand on your arm, furrowing his eyebrows as he leans closer. "no. no baby, i trust you. it's just that—"

"you don't trust them. i know," you pinch the bridge of your nose. "but that doesn't mean you should yell at me. he was a friend. we were catching up. and i'm sorry if it made you think that way but we should have just talked about it."

guilt showers him. and embarrassment drowns him in this tub; because he knows you're right. eddie should have sat down, or approached you quietly, and maybe he should have just asked who he was and told himself that you'd choose him over anyone. because you would, right?

because you promised. and he believes it because he trusts you.

"princess," he whispers into the thin air, cold and cruel to exposed skin. "i'm sorry. i- i trust you with my whole heart. i swear. okay? i'll never do it again, i promise you." brazenly does he let his fingers dance up your arm to the side of your face where he pushes your hair away, swallowing thickly. "i swear to you. i swear on my hair. on ozzy osbourne. on the hellfire club. even dustin henderson. i swear."

you find the love in you to laugh and smile at him, despite the fact that it wasn't a joke and he knew that he'd actually swear on dustin — the kid he adores the most. you place your hand on top of his, the one on your cheek, and find comfort in the warmth of his flesh in this cold night.

"i still need to see some groveling, though," you half-jest. "i wanna see you on your knees tomorrow. cooking for me. iron my clothes. fold my laundry. everything." eddie grins, his teeth glinting between his thin lips. "that shows then how sorry you are."

"baby, i'd be at your service any time," he takes your hand and kisses the back of it, lips placed on top of a vein. "i'd be on my knees for you anytime." eddie says this with the hand beneath his body untucking itself so that it would travel down your stomach, coz he's a sucker for a great performance.

eddie nudges his nose with yours, his lips hovering in a ghost of a wanted kiss but never truly reuniting. his hand wanders down, cheeky fingertips lingering above your shirt before it comes down beneath to touch your hot flesh. "babe," you warn, letting your eyes flutter shut when his thumb grazes the skin beneath your breasts. "i still- i still haven't fully forgiven you. 'was supposed to give you the silent treatment but—"

"but we're here now, hm?" you gasp at the touch of his rough hand suddenly groping your tit, pressing your hard buds against his palm as his fingers dig onto your flesh, squeezing it like some pillow. eddie smirks when your eyebrows join, lips parted to let out small, quiet whines when his other hand decides to slither beneath your shirt and cup your tits with his thumbs running over your nipples. "gonna let me make it up to you, princess? we can start now, yeah?"

you know he's not fully in control, in the way his hands still stay on your tits and never really where you want him to. his thumbs and fingers that pinch and pull on your hardened buds awaits for your guidance; you take one hand of his, and shove it beneath your sleep shorts to let him cup the pool of wetness created by merely by the fondling of your breasts.

eddie chuckles, each beat drips boastfully. "all that for me? you're mad at me but you're still wet, huh?"

you tsk, frowning still with your eyes closed. "shut up or i'll fuck myself in the bathroom."

"with what?" he queries, fingers tracing the lace of your panties before they press against your slit through the fabric. eddie bites his lip when you moan quietly, subtly grinding against his palm. "your fingers, hm? thought you can't make yourself cum? because your fingers aren't as big as mine, sweetheart. you'll just anger yourself more."

still, despite his teasing, he moves your panty to the side and lets his fingertips drag through your slick folds. eddie swallows the moan that comes out by pressing his lips with yours — a messy, breathy open mouthed kiss that makes your hips stutter against his fingers that they slip to prod on your starving hole. he shoves his tongue in your mouth, flicking it with yours before he closes his lips around you to fully kiss you, silencing your moans.

his fingers decide that sliding them against your cunt wasn't enough, coming up to rub your clit in slow figure-eights. you squirm against him, slowly lifting when eddie's other arm wraps beneath you to push your head closer to him, resting on the side of your head to at least keep you still and quiet.

"eddie," you whine. "you're such- you-ah...you're an asshole."

your glinting slick coats his fingers. your supposed insult makes him press harder to your clit that makes you jolt, eyebrows clenched and raised when he does so. "i know, baby," he hums, smiling roguishly. "i'm such an asshole for touching you after we fight. i'm such an asshole that—"

he plunges his fingers — two fingers, right inside your hole. straight up until he's knuckle deep and his fingertips graze your g-spot when he curls them. you moan loudly against his lips, only to be muffled when he encases your mouth again.

"—i'm only fingering you," he finishes. "that i'm teasing you. because you want my cock, right? i know you want it. gotta give my princess what she wants, hm? but how will i be sure if it's my dick she wants if she can't even say it?"

you're panting, even though eddie's doing all the work by fucking you with his long fingers. he's pressing and tracing your gummy walls; scissoring his limbs in the way he knows you love that has your toes curling. your grip his forearm, nails digging on the bats on his skin until there's crescent indentations on his opalescent organ.

"say it, baby," he nips at your bottom lip, opening his eyes just to stare at your slacked jaw and wrinkled face. you whine and whimper when he picks up the pace and goes fast, a soft squelching noise heard beneath the blankets from your arousal.

"i- i want your cock," you mewl, legs spreading wider. when eddie shoves a third finger, your forehead touches his, greeted by an unsynchronized kiss where you take his top lip into yours. "p-please. i want your cock, eddie. your big, fat fucking cock inside me."

"atta girl," eddie takes his fingers away, shoving three of them to suck out your sweet juices. he moans as he does so, your eyes opening and you feel like you could just cum right there at the sight of it. "turn around, sweetheart."

you go back to your old position — your back to his chest. but this time it doesn't squeeze his chest. it makes all the blood flow down to his hardening cock, begging to be sprung out by his tight boxers and dive into your gaping hole.

still with an arm beneath you, eddie uses the advantage to lightly wrap his hand around your neck, pressing on the sides. your hand moves blindly behind you, searches for his cock that eddie tries to free as he removes his briefs and tucks it beneath his ass. he licks on his palm and jerks himself a few times, groaning when your palm meets his shaft and pumps him sloppily.

"fuck, baby," he pants. "god it hurts. i need to- i need to be inside you right now."

eddie nips at your earlobe, both your hands holding his cock upright as he presses his tip right into your hole that clenches on nothing but the sweaty air. you take a deep breath when he starts pushing in, his hand leaving his cock to push your leg up from beneath your knee, his length slowly pushing in until his thick mushroom bulges almost painfully at your cervix.

he stops then when he's pushed to the hilt; his balls right up at your neglected hole. eddie lets out a short moan, grunts when your nails scratch at his forearm and throw your head back where your hair meets his lips.

"‘y so tight, (y/n)," he sighs. "can feel you squeezing the shit out of me. i'm gonna move now, okay?"

you nod. eddie pushes his hips back, cunt halfway through his length before he slams back in, tip almost bulging out of your navel. your hand comes up to wrap behind his head, letting his lips evade your temple, trailing down to your neck where he removes his hand just so he can suck on your sweaty complexion.

he's slowly pistons himself, though despite the laggard thrusting, skin slapping is heard. eddie's panting on your neck, your moans high-pitched and sometimes mistaken as a whimper when you try to keep quiet as to not disturb neighbors nearby.

"love this cunt," eddie groans, his thrust slowly fastening. "such a tight pussy. pretty fucking pussy jus' taking all of me 'coz you're such a good girl, yeah? a good girl who deserves everything; even my fucking cock. come on, baby, milk me dry."

his grunting exceeds when he fucks himself faster, your ass grinding up against him. you wish to see his face, the way they would always scrunch up into his blissful haze at the feeling of your walls against his bare dick. but you're too cockdrunk, your limbs tangled into this clusterfuck of released anger and make up sex.

you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling his teeth biting at your skin. "shit, baby," you mewl, pushing up against him. "fuck me faster— oh, yes! yes yes, fuck!"

he removes the hand from your knee to rub your clit, almost ripping the seams of your underwear as his hand moves vigorously on the swollen nub. he circles, he rubs it left and right in a quick pace that almost matches his thrusts. his slick and your arousal creating the most lewd and loud squelching noises that the covers can't even muffle.

"oh- yeah," eddie moans, maybe a bit louder than you. "fuck, i'm gonna cum. i'm gonna fucking cum, baby."

eddie doesn't need your approval, anyway, because at one thrust, you're spilling all over his thick cock, painting his muscle in white, salty cream. he moans when he feels your warm substance coat him like the way your hand would. and soon, his tip pushes his seed deep in your pussy, paints you hot white like a blank canvas.

but despite his sensitive cock twitching, he's still slowly thrusting inside you. eddie pulls out when he's had enough, turns your panting into whimpers when his fingers scoop up his cum and push it back inside your spasming hole.

"eddie, i'm still sensitive," you say absentmindedly, eyes dripping.

"i know, baby," he kisses your cheek. "just gotta keep you full, okay? just keepin' it inside."

and when he's pressed your panties back in places and cleaned himself up with his hand, eddie wraps his arms around you once more, pushing you close to his chest and peppers kisses all over your head.

"i'm sorry," he whispers. "i still am sorry for what i did. i'll grovel tomorrow, i promise."

you hum, taking his hand and kissing the back of it. "you're forgiven for like, five percent."

"five?!"

"because you teased me," you playfully kick his shin. "now let me sleep."

rushed bc dude i need to take a shit

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

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wlntrsldler · 2 months

Text

poisoned mercury | lifestyles of the rich & famous

i. lifestyles of the rich and famous by good charlotte (introduction)

a/n: introductory chapter! introducing the dynamics of the band, luke's relationship with his mom, and teenage boy antics. pre-reader and pre-chb. things will pick up quickly after this, i promise! bear with me as i set the scene :)

series masterlist | previous | next

“why the fuck am i seeing tabloids on top of tabloids with my kid’s plastered face on the front page of all of them?”

luke winced at the sound of his mom’s voice echoing through the empty event space. chris covered the bottom half of his face with his shirt, trying to hold in his laughter. may castellan was in her usual pantsuit, high heels clacking against the floor, as she waved around trashy magazines. she was furious.

“ignoring the fact that you are not 21 years old and cannot legally drink, what were you thinking, luke?” travis dropped his drumsticks on the ground, motioning for chris and connor to follow him backstage. they’d seen luke get chewed out by his mom more often since they started their world tour. as the three boys walked toward the side of the stage, may turned to them. “none of you are off the hook either. you may not have been on the front page, but care to listen to what they said about you in one of their glorious articles?”

“i would actually prefer not to, mama castellan,” chris mumbled, suddenly feeling caught. all traces of humor instantly drained from his face. luke couldn’t help but scoff, the boys always gave him shit for getting yelled at by his mom, so he was glad that this time around they were all on the sinking ship.

she dramatically cleared her throat, opening up one of the magazines. luke grimaced at the sight of him on the front page. he was sitting on the curb, his sunglasses askew, with a girl awkwardly patting his back. he doesn’t even remember this. may shot daggers at chris, who was cowering behind his mic stand, “bassist of poisoned mercury, chris rodriguez, was photographed away from the band when he was caught outside smoking something that wasn’t a cigarette, if you catch our drift. hopefully, his habits don’t catch up to him anytime soon.”

she stared at the stolls next, “drummer and lead guitarist of the rising band, travis and connor stoll, didn’t miss out on the fun. they walked out of the club with two models, who looked like twins, along with a bottle of dom perignon before heading into their suv.”

“and my darling child,” her words were sweet but her tone was anything but. luke chewed on the peeling skin of his bottom lip, “superstar, teen heartthrob, poisoned mercury lead singer, luke castellan, had a great night as seen in these pictures. the resident bad boy had one too many, it seems, as he walked out of the club stumbling with a mysterious blonde under his arm. castellan couldn’t make it into the car and had to sit on the curb to puke his guts out. let’s hope his actions didn’t ruin his chance at a budding romance.”

may closed the magazine, arms on her hips. she waited patiently for one of the boys to speak up.

“in our defense, this was in canada,” luke tried to reason, scrunching his face up. “legal drinking age is 18.”

that was the wrong response, luke realized, when his mom’s eyes lit up in anger. she let out a breath, “you were in toronto where the drinking age is 19, which you weren’t until yesterday.”

“i did not know that the drinking age in canada varied by region. i always learn something new whenever i talk to you, mama castellan,” travis said, trying to lighten the mood. connor shot him a look, motioning for him to quit talking. may castellan was clearly not in the mood for jokes.

“i am tired of you guys acting reckless,” she roared, dropping the magazines. they fell with a heavy thud. she rubbed her temples with the pads of her fingers, “your parents trusted me to take care of you guys while you chased your dreams and this is what you’re doing under my watch?!”

seeing his mom at her wit's end made luke feel sick.

“mom,” luke hopped off the stage, ignoring the sound of the magazines ripping under his feet as he landed on top of them, “we’re sorry. i’m sorry.”

“sorry’s not gonna cut it anymore, luke,” may said, shaking her head. “after this tour, you guys are taking a break. no touring, no public appearances.”

“what?” connor exclaimed, joining luke off the stage. the other boys followed, looks of bewilderment evident on their faces. “w-we can’t take a break now!”

“yeah, c’mon, mama c!” chris added, shaking his head, “we’re just getting really big. if we quit now, we’ll lose this momentum.”

“you’re not quitting. it’s just a tiny break– three months,” she cut them off, raising a hand in a stop. “we’ll release a statement to the press saying you guys will be taking some time off to work on your sophomore album so people have something to look forward to when you return.”

“okay, so that’s the cover story,” luke ran a hand through his curls. he knew that there was no winning against his mom when she made up her mind. he looked at her and spoke before the rest of the band continued their protests, “but what are we actually gonna be doing?”

“you’re going to spend your summer in montauk, just like old times,” his mom explained, voice still stern. “you’re going to camp half blood.”

“what the fuck is a camp half blood?” chris asked, plopping down on the couch they had inside their dressing room. rehearsal was cut short following the news delivered by luke’s mom.

“it’s a music camp,” luke explained, fidgeting with random things sprawled across his desk, trying to find the pack of cigarettes he hid. he really needed to clean up. “my dad used to take me there over the summer when i was younger.”

the topic of luke’s dad was a sore subject for him. his dad left him and his mom when he was 7 for some young waitress from their hometown diner. one second, he was signing up for little league with his dad as the coach; the next, he was sitting in the hallway listening to his mom cry after his dad packed a bag and left town with wendy the waitress in the passenger seat. luke hasn’t heard from him since then. last he checked, his dad was lounging beachside in santa monica with his third wife who was definitely too young for him. as far as he’s concerned, his dad was dead to him.

but he couldn’t deny that his time at camp half blood was the place of origin of some of his best childhood memories. he got his first taste of what it was like to be on stage at camp half blood; the adrenaline coursing through his veins, the pounding of his heart at the applause, the wild images in his head about what it would be like to be known for his music-- it all started at camp half blood. he was his happiest at camp, at least before his dad ruined it for him.

“is it fun?” travis asked, twirling a fresh pair of drumsticks between his fingers.

“used to be, yeah,” luke chuckled, hoisting himself up to sit on the desk. “haven’t been there since i was seven.”

“dude, i do not want to hang out with a bunch of little kids all summer,” chris groaned, letting his head fall back against the wall.

“relax, rodriguez,” luke lit a cigarette, inhaling the smoke before continuing. “there’s two sides to the camp. we’ll be with the older kids.”

“oh shit, is camp half blood mr. d’s music camp?” connor asked. the name of the camp was starting to sound familiar to him.

luke took another drag, nodding, “that’s the one.”

“dude, i fucking love mr. d. he always has the wildest stories,” travis laughed, “he’s so mellow and chill now, i wouldn’t’ve ever guessed he used to be like that.”

“it was the 90’s,” chris shrugged, “pretty sure everyone was like that at one point.”

“paid off for him though,” connor replied, opening a bag of doritos. he offered a chip to his brother, who in return, snatched the bag for himself. connor rolled his eyes, reaching over to grab another one. he was used to this. “i mean being a ceo of a multi-million dollar recording company isn’t too shabby.”

luke hummed along, mindlessly, letting the chatter of his bandmates fill the air. the three boys fell into a conversation about the last time they saw mr. d at the recording studio when they were finishing up the vocals for their debut album, but luke’s mind was far away from the topic at hand. he couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment from his body. he knew the way his mom looked at him would haunt him for the next few nights.

it wasn’t like he was actively trying to disappoint her– really, he wasn’t, but he just gets so caught up in the noise of fame that he forgets how to act under the pressure. there was something about his mom breaking down in front of him because of him that tore him apart. he felt guilty. his mom didn’t ask for this life, she didn’t even want it. she was content being a suburban mom in westport, connecticut, but she gave up her comfy life to let luke live out his dreams of being a musician.

he was lucky, he knew that. not every mom would be on board with her kid dropping out of traditional high school to perform rowdy songs about teenage angst, but may castellan was okay with it because she loved luke so much and wanted him to be happy. so when poisoned mercury got a record deal with olympus records, she didn’t hesitate to drop everything and go on the road with four unruly teenagers, promising their parents that she’d take care of their sons.

sometimes, he thinks about what his mom sees when she looks at him. he wonders if she still recognized him, the him before all the fame got to his head.

he was may castellan’s little boy. the boy who used to beg his mom for chocolate chip cookies after a bad day at school, who used to knock on her door in the middle of the night wondering why he wasn’t enough for his dad to stay, and who cried when she got him his first guitar on his tenth birthday. for most of his life, it’s always just been him and his mom.

now, at 19, luke didn’t know who he was anymore. he was just going with the flow, doing whatever, doing whoever, his fame and his status threw his way. he did what any teenage boy would do in his position– he drank, he smoked, he had fun, maybe too much fun, sometimes. it’s a rockstar’s life, his wildest dreams come to life, but it was a distraction, mostly. luke wasn’t brave enough to face the music just yet, so he dove into this fantasy head-first, too afraid to look back.

except sometimes, he fucks up really badly, like in toronto, and he’s forced to deal with the consequences of his actions. one time, his mom cut the band off from playing video games on the tour bus for a month after a heated argument between the four of them caused them to cancel a show. the argument was stupid. luke was adamant that scorpions did not have the same mental capacity for understanding pain that humans do and that did not bode well with travis. rehearsal ended in a brawl because travis kept doing impromptu drum solos to drown out luke’s voice. his mom was pissed that hundreds of fans were disappointed over the canceled show and it was all because they couldn’t agree over a damn scorpion.

another time, she banned them from driving the golf carts around the venue when they crashed it into a very expensive sound system in portland. they ended up owing upwards of $4,000 for the damages and were banned from playing at the event space ever again. the four of them laughed about it when the chaos of it all subsided, and they were fine not playing at the house of hades again, but they did miss the snack bar they set up for visiting talents. chris said he still dreamt about the pomegranate juice ‘til this day.

luke can look back at the punishments over the years fondly now. in the grand scheme of things, none of it really mattered. but going to camp half blood? this was a different type of punishment.

luke didn’t want to go to camp half blood. the last memory he had of camp was not a welcomed one. plus, after what he experienced on tour, he could think of a million other ways to spend his summer months, and living at a camp with spotty cell service and designated arts and crafts time was nowhere near the top of the list.

“yo, castellan,” chris’ voice snapped luke out of his thoughts. “you comin?”

luke put out his cigarette against the wood of his desk, “huh?”

“we’re grabbing food, do you wanna go with us?”

luke hopped off the desk, slipping on his black, puffer jacket, “yeah, i’m right behind you.”

as luke was walking out of the dressing room, adjusting his t-shirt, he saw his mom talking to teddy, their publicist. they were engaged in a serious conversation, no doubt talking about the press release regarding their second album and their hiatus. luke stood in front of the door for a brief moment, a stutter in his steps, not knowing if he should interrupt.

luke pursed his lips, deciding to jog over to his mom.

“i think we should post it on the band accounts first before the boys announce it individually. it make–” may furrowed her eyebrows, noticing luke coming closer to her. she turned her body to face him. she looked much calmer now than she did during rehearsals, “hey, what’s wrong?”

luke shook his head, “nothin’, mom. i just–uh, just wanted to say sorry again.”

“let’s talk later, may,” teddy gave the two of them a small smile before walking away.

“i’m not changing my mind about camp half blood,” she frowned. “sorry, luke but i can’t have you guys running around all sum–”

“no, no, i know, mom. i-i didn’t come here to try to convince you,” luke looked down at his feet, suddenly feeling like a little boy again. “i just– uh, shit. okay, i’m sorry for toronto. it was a bad time and it’s not fair that you have to deal with the fall out of our shit. and uh– thank you for sticking by us even though we drive you kinda crazy.”

may laughed, smiling at her son, “you’re my kid. you know i’ll always be there to set you straight.”

“thanks, mom,” luke chuckled, backing away to catch up with his bandmates. may waved goodbye, making her way to teddy’s makeshift office. before luke left the tunnel, he turned around, “wait mom! last thing!”

she raised her eyebrows, “what?”

luke raised his hand in a thumbs-up motion, grinning from ear to ear, “love you!”

“i love you too, kiddo,” may replied, a hand over her heart. “now scram, i gotta clean up your mess.”

#frances writes #hermes will never beat the deadbeat dad allegations #poisoned mercury #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke pjo #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson

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forbidden-sunlight · 2 months

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yandere!Alastor with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario: A Wendigo's Violent Love Part Two

Warning: aged-up!reader [in early to late twenties], violence, OOC, spoilers for the first season of the 2024 show, possessive and obsessive behavior, Alastor is in denial of his feelings, possible angst.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the back button on your phone or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your Internet consumption!

Reblog to support content creators! ❤️

Part One

Part Three

Salutations everyone, good to be back on the air~! :)

I understand it’s been a while since I wrote anything, but due to how busy I’ve gotten in real life, updates will be a bit slower until perhaps the summer. Nonetheless, I am committed to writing the best Hazbin Hotel fics for the community so that everyone can enjoy them to their heart’s content!

Special thanks to @witch-of-the-writing desk for collaborating with me on this chapter and helping me bring these fantastic characters to life on the page, and @vikkirosko for being an awesome beta reader alongside @illuminaresblog.

So with that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see what's going on in tonight's broadcast with Hell's one and only Radio Demon!

The reconstruction of the hotel included the kitchen being entirely remodeled.

Gone were the cabinet doors that hung from its creaky hinges, the marble floors that never shined bright no matter how many times Niffty scrubbed them, the mice’s squeaking and an ice box that couldn’t fit all of the foodstuff to feed several people. Dark matte cabinets held the dining ware and bowls, stacked up in neat little rows and protected by glass doors on either side of a large wrought iron stove top and the range hood. The cedar countertops glowed under the lights, stretching from the island in the middle of the room to the small dining room table stationed on the right side. Copper pots and pans were suspended in the air above the island, so whenever it was time to start cooking, Angel or Lucifer would have to pull out the ones needed and put them away after the meal. The icebox was now bigger, stainless steel with a bottom drawer to place frozen items in.

Overall, it was a massive improvement from the previous one with additional space and a little footstool for Niffty to make the midday meals. Alastor…he was usually in charge of the evening ones, though the others have recently started to contribute to making their own dishes. The successes of those evenings varied, though they all tasted delicious to you.

Niffty had all but pushed you into a chair at the dining table as soon as you entered the kitchen with Husk. You watched her tiny frame skitter across the marble floor, plating stacked sandwiches held together with toothpicks stabbed through the middle and potato salad and two other side dishes before it appeared in front of you. She must have prepared some tea for you as well, seeing an ivory teapot and a cup already filled to the brim, steam rising and emitting a fragrant aroma that tickled your nose.

You thanked her graciously for the meal, even though you were quite sure that you were not going to be able to finish it all before you had to leave for Alastor’s radio station. Twenty minutes was not what Charlie would qualify as a proper lunch break.

The tiny housekeeper repeated the same ritual with Husk though she directly handed his plate to him before she gave you an annoyed look that clearly said, finish your meal, all of it, and got distracted with the sight of a roach and began to chase it down with her needle. Husk merely shook his head and sat down next to you on the right side of the table. He picked at his food, clearly not in the mood to eat because his mind was on something else. However, you did not pry. Vaggie had spoken to you about respecting people’s privacy in your first week of arriving at the hotel; just because someone doesn’t seem happy, it didn’t mean you had a right to address it. Talking about it might help, and sometimes it doesn’t. If anything…just let the sleeping dogs lie.

You eyed the clock. Ten minutes left, and you were only halfway through the meal. You ate the sandwiches, and only had a spoonful of the potato salad. You were about to take another bite from a different side dish when Husk spoke up, his voice muffled by the food in his mouth.

“I saw what happened in the greenhouse.”

You blinked. Husk….he had seen the confrontation between you and Alastor? You carefully lowered the spoon down the plate, tapping against the porcelain. “There’s nothing to worry about, Husk.” You replied calmly, your attention entirely focused on the meal in front of you. “He will not harm me. He simply wants to talk about my performance on the job.”

“That’s bullshit.” Husk hissed. “We both know it ain’t just ‘cause he’s the facility manager of this place, or that you’re slackin’ off, it’s ‘cause he hates it when people question his authority!” He slammed a fist against the table, causing the silverware and glassware to wobble momentarily before righting themselves again. “[First Name], I saw. I know what he did, and you really have no idea who you’re gonna be alone with in what, five minutes?”

“Seven. And I know who Alastor is. He is a serial killer, a cannibal, and an overlord who broadcasts his carnage on the radio.” you said, raising the tea cup to your mouth as you took a languid sip, placing it back down the saucer a moment later with a clink. You looked at him. “He is also in a weakened physical state. He will not admit that he has not fully recovered from the war.”

“I swear to God, do not make me go to the princess and Vaggie about this, because I fucking will -”

“Telling them what he did will not change his tactics. He will simply find another way to intimidate me.” You cut off. “You know him better than anyone else, Husk. He is clever, manipulative, and will do anything to get what he wants.”

Husk shot a baffled look at you, eyebrows raised and yellow irises narrowed slightly. “You really don’t see how he looks at you, do you?”

You blinked. “As an enemy? Yes.” Hostility, anger, shock, humiliation. You had seen those expressions many times on that battlefield when you charged across No Man’s Land with the Major’s battalion, cutting through the enemy lines with anything in reach and at your disposal. A weapon of war, a loyal dog to the Major. You watched Husk’s face fall into disbelief, then aggravation before he slapped a paw across his face. You tilted your head to the side. What was wrong? Why was he upset? Is it something you had said? You watched the bartender stand up from the table, walk towards the lower cabinets, crouching down and pulling out a hidden bottle of whiskey. He uncorked it, and took a swing from it before turning back towards you, frowning.

“Ya might have been a soldier, ya might have things that would turn shit white and ya not be scared of Alastor…but you should be. He’s been gone for seven years, and no one knows why, but I can say with certainty that he’s much stronger than before. If you’re gonna talk to him, just….just don’t mention….he’s no different than I am, all right?” That was all he said before almost bolting towards the door, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

No different than what Husk is. You thought, picking up both of the half-eaten plates from the table, throwing the reminder in the trash, washing and rinsing them off under the tap before setting them down in the dish rack. What does that mean? Alastor does not drink nor does he gamble. Husk is under his commanding unit, a soldier. Your brow furrowed. Did Husk….knows something about Alastor that he doesn’t want others to know? How did Alastor rise to power so quickly and overthrow the overlords who had been dominant in Hell for centuries?

You would have to think about this possibility later, because when you looked at the clock hanging on the kitchen wall, you realized you were already late for your meeting with Alastor.

Shadows were handy little helpers to have, Alastor notes. Not only could they provide protection to the staff when he had other matters to attend to in the Pentagram but they were excellent spies. To be his ears and gather all of the delicious secrets he could uncover from enemies that were actually some semblance of a threat to his plans, or just because he was bored and liked to keep tabs on the latest bits of gossip. He loved to share this information with Rosie over tea-time when the subject of their discussions was not revolved around the ornery old bitch, Susan.

Although they have proven themselves to be useful time and time again, these little helpers were also sentient and created their own discord, much to the frustration of their creator. As much as you can say you’ve been keeping a distance from Alastor, he unfortunately can’t say the same. His shadows as of late have found themselves almost constantly attached to you. Through darkened hallways to under your leaves at the greenhouse, they were always at your side. Ready to step in and assist you in any way they can, even if he won’t lift a finger.

Regardless of how annoyed he has been with them recently, they had repeated word for word of your conversation with Husk. They know you are late but have said that you are walking towards him and not from way to him, whispering how you were turning right at the end of the corridor and about to come across the staircase leading up to the radio station. They adored you, much to his annoyance. It had already been difficult to even comprehend the idea that he had feelings for you, and his shadows, unfortunately, reflected the darker parts of him that he wished to be locked up for all eternity. The weaknesses that were a threat to his own goals.

He could not act like an altruist or a lovesick fool. He hungered for power. He craved freedom. Nothing should stop him from carrying out what he wants. If he wrangled the truth out of you, to know that you despised him and did not care about him in any capacity….he will be satisfied.

Will he though?

His train of thought was soon interrupted by a knock at the door. Putting on his best smile and straightening out his bowtie, Alastor walked across the room and opened it. He looked down, and saw you staring at him. Your appearance wasn’t as ruffled as he had suspected it to be from being late for an appointment, just a few [Hair Color] strands loose from the hairstyle you wear every day ... .but he supposed he can let it slide this time. He’d rather not hear Niffty complain to him about how you aren’t eating your meals.

“Well, well, there you are~! And here I was wondering if you had forgotten! Come, come, take a seat!” He said, gesturing to the couch sitting adjacent to the soundboard where he sat. He did not even want to look at you, not at this moment. He could feel the shadows purring in delight under his feet, no doubt staring at you with such adoration that it made him gag. He reigned them with a pulse of his power just before a slippery fellow tried to crawl towards the couch and perch over your shoulder.

He took a seat, and so did you after smoothing out the skirts of your dress. You looked at him straight in the eye, spine straight and gloved hands folded neatly in your lap.

“So, you are aware as to why you are here, yes~?”

“...I am.”

“And why is that?” He pressed.

“Because I questioned your authority. You tried to frighten me, and you had failed.” You replied. “In my defense, you were in no position to exert yourself when you are still possessing an injury that you will not speak about to the others. I have no intention of saying that to anyone here. I only ask that you do not harm Charlie or the others here in the hotel, or I will keep the promise I made to you less than an hour ago. You will be killed by my hand or I will die trying. People keep secrets because it is necessary for their survival, and the others around them. How can I be sure….that you will not raise your hand and strike us down as soon as your wings are unclipped?”

Alastor’s eyes widened slightly as a wave of high-pitched radio static left his teeth and bounced off the walls before he quickly recollected himself. Goodness, always the blunt one, weren’t you? Inhaling sharply through his nostrils, he made sure his grin stretched all the way to his ears, never showing you what is really going through his mind. Annoyance. Frustration. Adoration. Amusement.

“Well, those words are the very reason why you are here, my dear.” He stood up from his chair, slowly walking around the soundboard, running a finger across the polished wood. His eyes were fixed on yours and you did not look away. Good. Keep your focus on him and nothing else.

“By meddling in my affairs, even if it was unintentional on your part, is putting the rest of the hotel in danger. I cannot be compromised under any circumstances, lest I anger the one whom I have an agreement with.”

“The one who is responsible for your rise in power?” He blinked, stopping in his steps for a moment. Ah. You caught on without him having to spell out to you. Unless dear old Husk had said something to you? No. The shadows have told him that he merely mentioned the seven years that the Radio Demon was gone, nothing beyond what everyone else already knew.

He nodded, swiveling on his feet and because he felt like it, a jaunty little spin before he sat on the coffee table, right in front of you and crossing his legs with such elegance that it would make a French girl jealous.

“Indeed. And trust me when I say they are much more powerful than Charlie’s dear father. That is to say, not even Lucifer can protect you or anyone else from what is about to or could happen should I be compromised. And I know how much you care about the staff here, even sweet little Niffty. Which is why…I want to make a deal.” He held out his hand towards you. “Keep what has happened at the radio station and anything else beyond these four walls to yourself. Never share what you know, not even to Charlie. In exchange for your silence, I will not harm anyone here in the hotel unless we know for certain that they are a threat. Well?” He tilted his head to the side. “Do we have a deal?”

You stared at his hand, then raised your own to your lips, carefully tugging off the glove with your teeth until it fell into your lap. The adamantine skeletal fingers curled around his own, solidifying the deal between the two of you. Alastor felt a burst of power course through him, felt the stitches on his mouth and eyes tugging, the walls turning emerald and the shadows danced around them in celebration. Then the magic subsided, yet the warmth, the burning sensations from your prosthetics seeping through the leather gloves did not. A chirping of radio static left his mouth upon feeling his hand being squeezed to an almost painful degree. When he looked at you, he saw emotions swirling in your eyes that he had not seen from you yet.

Anger.

Disappointment.

Resentmentment.

These were emotions he had caused. Him, the one who was holding your hand tightly because he made a simple deal for yourr silence, and not her soul. So why does he feel conflicted? He had gotten what he wanted, to push you away from him, to banish these uninvited feelings from his chest. But this deal did not give him any satisfaction. It caused him…pain. The kind of pain that he cannot explain. It was not the pain he felt when he missed an opportunity to have an excellent dinner, and not even the pain that…that Adam had given him.

For whatever reason, he could not stop himself from bringing your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss across the knuckles even when the angelic steel instantly burned his mouth upon contact. When he realized what he had done, he pulled away as if he had been struck again by his drunken father and promptly left his office, disappearing into the darkness and subsequently from the hotel altogether.

He did not like this. He did not like these feelings. He did not like how he never had the opportunity to ask him if you cared about him, loved him…yet why did your opinion matter? Why did he want to hear you say, out of your volition, that you love him too? To a man who is supposed to feel nothing at all?!

Times like this, there was only one person who could provide light on this precarious situation without daring to judge him. The Pentagram’s most delightful, daring, and dangerous overlord of Cannibal Town. Rosie. His oldest and dearest friend.

He supposed it had been long enough since the two of them had tea together, hasn’t it?

Alastor inhaled a shaky breath, allowing himself to materialize on the streets near the Jazz District and smiled brightly as if he wasn’t having an existential crisis, humming a merry tune under his breath that made nearby demons tremble in fear.

Taglist: @alastor-simp @the-cat-queen-peasants @pinkgoldweebgirl @rorusena @whenitgrowsbright @aria-tempest @aconfusedwonderland @victheauthor @luthefriendlywitch @lunaramune @candyladycry @22carolina08 @ladydoe8 @lanxianschoenheit @hellbornediamonddreams @imperfectbloodmoon @francisnyx @sillypumpkins @no1sillybilly @faux-ecrivain @bones4thecats @frompeach @frenchtoastmafia @oucx @navierkalani @solandis-does-stuff @anielly-2010 @tonightwrites @mentallyunstablenoodle @bladeismine @asianfrustration13 @kameyo-kumo @solesurvivorjen @realifezompire @blumin8 @chewbrry @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @zenix108 @ang3lofdivinity @yourdoorisunlocked @nunezs-stuff @ccruzmoon

#forbidden-sunlight #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere alastor #fem!reader #violet evergarden!reader #character!reader #vivziepop #yandere x reader #yandere #ns.fw #cw obsessive behavior #tw obsessive behavior #cw obsessive love #tw obsessive love #a wendigo’s violent love

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liveontelevision · 1 month

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Another Lucifer Rant | Lucifer x Reader

I'M BACK BABY

Give this man a dorky partner ffs.

Lucifer Rant (Pt. 1 kinda)

Warnings: SMUTSMUTSMUT +18, Fluff, Some mentions of overstimulation

○○○

Imagine Lucifer at his best. Sure, when you first get together, it's rocky. He needs someone to help him rediscover himself, and that takes a lot of time and energy from both of you. But after a few years, you start to see who he used to be; When he was an elder angel, daring to break the rules and pursue his dreams no matter what. It occasionally led to some destruction, but seeing him now able to recover from it so easily? It melts your heart. You were sure he wouldn't withstand the failure, but he can handle it. He can handle it because of you.

You praise him for branching out into other inventions and creations, but you'll always love his little ducks more than anything. That being said, you're not the only one seeing his creativity thrive. Hell managed to become a brighter place, with golden decorations and structures that were purely made for public enjoyment. Maybe Charlie's rubbing off on him, but he's finally taking charge of his realm and focusing on his subjects. Seeing Charlie at her best only fuels him more. She's living the life he wanted to when he was her age, and now, he had some catching up to do. He was determined.

PDAs:

With his confidence growing, he starts becoming more comfortable with PDAs. You never minded them, but it was nice to see him letting out his emotions in any way. He started off by holding your hand around others. Even though he would always become a blushing mess, even pulling away if he got too embarrassed by you smiling so geniunely at him, it was progress. It then became something he almost whined about when it wasn't happening. He wants you to hold his hand until it's uncomfortably sweaty and even after.

Lucifer would give small pecks to you as well, on your cheek when you walked in the room, your hair if you were sitting and he had access to the top of your head, and when he was in an especially good mood, a sweet peck on the lips before he'd leave.

Truly, the hardest part was saying I love you. In public and in private. What a strange phrase to get so flustered over when youve been with someone for years, and it did take years, but when he said it to you for the first time you damn near cried. After that, you would try to pepper it into conversations casually, in hopes his embarrassment or shame in the phrase would dissipate. Eventually, it did, and he grinned every time you'd say it, eager to return the phrase.

Now, you do your best to respect his boundaries, but one day it just slipped out of you, in front of a few residents and staff, one of them being Charlie. You didnt realize what you had done wrong, and honestly most of the others in the room didnt either, but once you saw Lucifer's overwhelmed expression it clicked that you may have messed up. You looked around to gauge the room and casually walked over to his shrinking form.

"I'm sorry, my love." You leaned in a bit to whisper to him," Do you need to step out? Should I say anything?" You did your best to stay calm, to be his anchor in this situation, but he cleared his throat and picked up his voice a little louder than your previously hushed tone. "L-Love you, too..! Sweetheart.." it was a small intimacy, but dear lord, were you proud of him. You could tell he struggled to do that, even if no one else paid attention to it. His eyes darted to Charlie, who was suddenly meeting his gaze from the other side of the room, and her eyes were absolutely wide and full to the brim with pride.

You had a few conversations with Charlie about everything. She didn't want too many details, just an update on how he's handling himself when she's not around. As he would get better with confiding his feelings to others, he would eventually talk to Charlie about issues and concerns, but for now, you were happy to relay the news to her.

He's her father, of course she wants nothing more than for him to be happy. It's not like she didn't see his struggle, so she couldn't help but feel pride for this little affection and any of his progress. She was quickly pulled away by Vaggie to avoid an outburst of happy tears in front of everyone, which Lucifer didn't mind. You gave him a quick peck on his forehead after looking around the room and took your seat next to him, continuing a conversation that you barely remember starting.

There were some situations where he would let you perform the PDAs. Sometimes, you would push his limits just to see how far he'd go. He wasn't super into movie nights, but Charlie really loved the idea of watching and discussing movies with wholesome values; an exercise to get people to know eachother amd have healthy debates on certain topics that definitely wouldn't turn into arguments. It happened about twice a month, good movies becoming harder to find in Hell.

You sat next to him close enough that your plush thigh was against his leg. He didn't seem to care too much, I mean, he loved it, but he didn't get too flustered. You would reach your arm around the back of the couch to simulate wrapping your arm around his shoulder, brushing your fingertips across the back of his shirt every now and then. The first time you did it, it took him by surprise, but after that, you could see the enjoyment of your touch.

You made sure to sit on the couch behind everyone else. Otherwise, he would feel the need to constantly look over his shoulders. You would try a few things, like placing your hand over his, then interlacing your fingers, then bringing it to your lips whenever the screen would go black and plunge the room in darkness. He seemed to handle it pretty well.

One night, you'd start off by leaning towards him and sitting on your legs, resting your head on his shoulder. He would respond by hesitantly placing his hand at your waist. You snuggled into him a bit more, making him redder in the face, but also giving him a subtle you're doing great.

If he did ever get too uncomfortable, he'd pull a blanket up and around both your shoulders, giving him a sense of security. On another night, you tried to pull him into you. It happened throughout the movie. You would pull him in by his waist, and he would scooch closer to you, then he would prop his arm up behind you and press his cheek against your shoulder. This was definitely a favorite position of his. Some tiring days, he would nod off. You made sure to wake him before anyone noticed.

Privacy:

After a while, he'd especially love touching you in private. When you would sit on his little couch and work on your own things in his office, he would take breaks and come over to lay his head in your lap. If he's lucky, you'd be reading or doing something where you only needed one hand, so your vacant fingers could be used to lightly comb through his hair.

He would take any chance to be above you, leaning down over the couch when you were sitting and giving you light kisses, or wrapping his arms around you while he stood on the elevated platform his workbench was set on.

With all the issues he had to overcome, you noticed he never really seemed too upset over his height. He was an angelic all-powerful beast, it's not like he was forced to look that way. I mean, you saw him shapeshift, he could easily add a few feet to his height. Actually, sometimes it seemed like he enjoyed the height difference. Whenever you would have to bend at the hips to give him a level kiss, he would make the goofiest grin. Or when you'd wear heels, he would constantly offer to fasten them on your feet and shower you with affection, then in public, he'd place his hand around your hips instead of linking your arms like usual.

Goofy Stuff:

His overly confident mask that he would use to intimidate others and laugh off serious situations was finally becoming more sincere. You loved seeing him that way, bringing smiles to everyone in the room when he spoke. When it was just the two of you, all his energy went into making you smile. And it always worked, he would make you giddy.

He loved to simply be around you. When you had to get ready for some kind of event, he would sit next to you at your vanity, simply watching you doll yourself up. He'd praise you, "you look so beautiful, darling~" then he'd tease you, "you know, i think that color would look much better on me." And you weren't one to back down, applying a thick layer of gloss to your lips and pulling him in to transfer as much as you could onto his lips. You pulled away, unphased, and went back to your makeup. "Hm! I agree! I'll let you wear it more often, then." He'd stammer out some sort of angry reply and cross his arms over his chest, having to admit defeat.

When you'd come home and would need to wash your face, you'd repeat your skin care routine on him. He didn't need it, but he loved to feel your hands touch and massage his face. In exchange, you'd force him to let you groom him (preening his wings, maybe cleaning up his eyesbrows, styling his hair in new ways, etc.) If you had the energy for it, that is. It was like clipping a cats nails. But the reaction and the outcome were so worth it.

You'd do his makeup on occasion, sometimes going far too dramatic for his taste just to watch him struggle to admit it wasn't his style without insulting you. You'd admit it was on purpose, and he'd tackle you playfully. Like before, you both ended up with the same lip color afterward.

You loved to get eachother flustered, sometimes youd pat him on the bottom when moving past him just to see him dramatically gasp." My love, we're in public! Right in front of Keekee??" He'd dramatically gesture to the cat who quite literally left the room while he was talking.

He'd blow into your ear when you were distracted, sending a chill down your spine. You'd knock your head into his on purpose, and he would swoon, crying out about being mistreated. Truly a theatric man.

Overall, he was finally bringing a geniune confidence to the table and you couldnt be prouder of him.

18+ Intimacy:

He was quick to discover he liked all the fluffy, cuddly stuff, but it took him years to rekindle any kind of sexual attraction to anyone. It was another big insecurity that he had, wondering if it was one of the reasons he drove Lillith off. It's not like he had anything to compare his work to, but he definitely didn't need to worry. Practice makes perfect. (And he was with Lillith for thousands of years.. so... plenty of time for practice.)

At first, you'd take the lead. You didn't mind. You loved taking care of him. After he'd suggest you two become more intimate, you'd still have to stop after some deep kisses and light grinding. Not that he would finish so soon, he just didn't have the stability to even imagine going through a night with your intimate gaze on him for so long. After a while, you'd start sitting on his lap, constantly reassuring him and giving him praises for doing so good. "If you need to stop, let me know, my love. Tap me -" you would lead his hand to the top of your thigh, " - if you can't find the words, okay?" He would let out a nervous chuckle, subconsiously giving your thigh a soft squeeze at the motion before nodding his head.

You had to talk him through everything, and dear lord, did he love hearing your voice. As ironic as it is, he would melt at any praise you gave him." You're doing so good, sweetheart," "You like that, love? You look so beautiful right now~", "Mmm, keep that up, you're doing so well." No matter how much you tried to keep your voice calm and sultry, he really enjoyed and almost preferred your hitched breath and sweet words directly by his ear. The phrase that got him going more than anything? "I love you, Lucifer." The combination of those words and hearing his name slip from your lips almost always made him whimper quietly.

When you first heard him whimpering, you would subtly check on him, making sure he was doing okay without embarrassing him and calling it out. Oh, he was doing okay. More than okay.

You would usually proposition him, but sometimes, he would blatantly ask you if you two could be intimate. It was always so cute when he did that. But one day, he asked shyly for you to sit, then he hesitantly sat on your lap. Your rosie cheeks grew even redder, and you placed your cool hands on your face to try and calm yourself. It took you a second to finally look up at him, his expression even more embarrassed than yours. You hated to admit that it made you feel better, but it really did. You took your hands and placed them on his cheeks, which were much hotter than yours. He rubbed his face into your palm, his hand holding your wrist to keep your touch close.

After a moment, he'd lean down to kiss you, it was just bliss. The rare view he had, looking down to meet your eyes, left him happy to give in to his more intimate desires. After being seated on your lap for so long, and finally adjusting to the unconscious grinding that would go on, he'd start to reach for the edge of his pants without much thought. Once he had pulled out his shaft, your eyes would quickly widen and break away from the kiss to assess the situation. Before you could, he lifted your head back to look into his eyes, suddenly glowing red. "P-Please, can I.. i don't know if im ready for, b-but- I need - " his eyes were a threatening color, but you noted that he was still struggling with this decision. He still needed some time before letting you touch him that way.

You pulled him in for another kiss, "I won't look or touch, okay? That's what you want?" You clarified, running your hands through his hair. He nodded shyly, his hand still holding onto himself. You smiled and reconnected your lips. "Okay, love. I don't mind at all - " you reassured him, taking his free hand and kissing his palm. Looking up at him through his fingers, you grinned into his hand, grazing your teeth down his wrist." I would be honored, actually." You say bravely, the situation giving your boldness a boost. He would let out a nervous laugh that seemed almost too loud, then follow it by sucking in his lips to not embarrass himself anymore than he already has.

Keeping up with his speed, you did only what he was comfortable with. Doing only what he wanted from you. It made you almost arrogant to feel him stroke himself and whimper into your lips, getting off just from your kisses alone. You would break away only to leave some soft kisses on his neck. You attempted to leave a hickey or two below his jawline, but he quickly tapped your thigh, wordlessly telling you that was too much. "Good boy~" you'd breathe against his neck, seeing his chest heave at the words. You moved down to his collarbone and chest, slowly beginning to suck in and bite his porcelain skin there. He let out a muffled agreement and nodded his head, more accepting of somewhere that would be easier to cover. You left almost too many bruises on him after that. To be fair, any blossoming mark was exentuated against his sensitive, white skin.

It didn't take too long for him to finish after that. He let out a gasp, then a muffled moan as you felt some of his fluids leak onto your stomach. He didn't even let himself get over his high before pulling a tissue out of thin air and cleaning you up. You let your head lean back, looking towards the cieling as he situated himself, keeping your promise to not look until he's ready. "O-oooh dear.. That was... Gross, right? Sorry.." You quickly look at him and scoffed, holding onto his face and pulling it close. "Don't say that, Lucifer..! Thank you for trusting me with this..." You brushed your thumb across his cheek, his expression still disheartened." I wouldn't have let that happen if I didn't want it, you know that. Besides, if you're really concerned, i'll just have to join you next time." You teased a sly smirk across your face. His eye twitched, and you could feel the heat in his face return." Good lord, I don't deserve you." He squeaked out before standing up and almost tripping over himself, complaining about his stiff legs right away.

Side note: I feel like when he would complain about being sore at all, you'd joke at him and say things like, "Oh, don't be a baby." And he'd reply with a joke, "Woah there, save the dirty talk for the bedroom." And that's what triggers you to start calling him baby any chance you could get, especially in the bedroom.

Going all the way was a big step. He was more comfortable starting on top of you, but just like before, he realized how much he preferred, loved, to have you ride him. You made sure he had the tapping system in effect, but he would constantly check on him the first time he asked to try it this way. You were almost ashamed to admit you got a bit carried away. With you almost hitting your high, you probably took on more than he could handle. You didn't realize until you looked down at his face. His eyes were shut tight, a tear or two rolling down his heated face, and his lips were parted and letting out pathetic little noises. A face that some might see as a demon drunk on sex, but you knew you had taken him a little too hard. You slowed down, his breath finally becoming lighter." I-I'm sorry.. I-I -" his voice was raspy as his began apolgizing." No - don't be. I'll be gentle." You finally started back up, a slow grind, after letting him catch his breath. "Remember to use your words, baby - " You took his hand and planted it on your thigh as another reminder to communicate his thoughts. He nodded, a slight hitch in his breath as you spoke. You went on to cherish a more intimate night with him.

That's how it started, but as time went on, your playful relationship came to the bedroom. Lucifer would be in the middle of grinding his hips into yours, attempting to say something flirtatious in your ear when his voice would crack, or he'd say something that didn't come out right. You'd cover your mouth in an attempt to not laugh." Oh, cmon! I'm trying to be sexy here." He'd waggle his eyebrows at you and youd bring him into a smiling kiss. "Well, i'd say you're doing a great job, babe." You spoke so sincerely afterward that he'd become a little flustered. "O-Oh.. you.. think so..?" You hummed against his ear,

"Nope~"

He'd let out an aggravated groan and start to get off of your lap." No-no! I'm sorry, i'm kidding! You're sexy, come back!" You'd laugh out, reaching for his hips and planting him back onto your lap." Damn right, I am." He'd grumble, smashing his lips against yours in a suddenly intense kiss. In all honesty, probably to shut you up.

---

You love him so dearly. You barely realize how much he loves you, maybe due to how badly he struggles with his words. As time goes on, all Lucifer wants is to give himself to you. Give every little bit of his love to the one who's spent so much time caring for him and helping him become a better person. He'd sometimes consider that he could never be able to return the favor.

But he would. You knew he could.

○○○

I'll still take requests for some Luci prompts if anyone's thirstin'

Also, I have over 100 followers?? Which i wasn't expecting to happen when I first made this account (literally made it just to look at Hazbin smut if i'm outing myself) So thanks for all the support! This is such a great community 🥹

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #lucifer hazbin #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer magne #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel smut #lucifer morningstar #hazbin lucifer #hazbin lucifer morningstar #lucifer morningstar x you #lucifer my beloved #lucifer x you #lucifer x reader smut #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader

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pleasingforharry · 11 months

Text

For Your Eyes Only

college!harry x quiet!yn

SUMMARY: Harry didn’t want Y/N to leave for class as he woke up needy and horny. But she needed to go, so he was left alone wishing she were there to take care of him. Maybe there was a way to persuade her to come back home. A text? A video? Something for her eyes only.

WORD COUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Uhhhh smut because I was in a smutty mood.

"Don't go," Harry begged, clutching his girlfriend to his chest. He was sitting on the edge of his bed with Y/N stuck in between his legs. “I need you.” His tone was suggestive. And to make it more obvious, he pushed her naked leg against his clothed cock—hard and throbbing.

Y/N sighed and tangled her hand in his hair. It was beyond messy in the mornings. “I don’t have time, dove. Class starts soon. I’m pretty sure I’ll be late even if I leave now.”

“So, just stay,” He whispered in her ear. Y/N let him handle her so now she sat on his lap, arms loose around his neck. It may have looked as if she was agreeing to stay as she sat comfortably on him. “I’ll make it worth your while. Take care of you so good, baby. I’ll do anything you want.” His voice was raspy from the early morning, but also dark from desperation.

It was very enticing. Y/N gave her boyfriend a light kiss before pulling back before he deepened it. Then appeared that charming smile. “No, dove. I can’t. But I'll come right back, as fast as I can. Promise.” she told him softly. Her lips pressed against his cheek, nose, brows, and back to his own pair of plush lips.

Harry wasn’t ready to give up yet, though. His hand grabbed Y/N’s hips and moved them so her cunt rubbed against his hard cock. “Feel that?” He gazed at her with hooded eyes. Y/N could moan from how fuckable he looked. He bucked his hips up, causing her to gasp. “Just for you, baby. I can make you feel good. Just stay, okay?”

Y/N dropped her forehead on his shoulder in defeat.

“I just know you’re wet. I know my baby too well,” Harry turned his head to reach her ear. He gently bit her lobe. “Come on. Let me eat your pretty cunt out. I want to suck on your little clit while you try to push me away. Then I’ll fuck you so hard, baby. I can make you come so many times. And then we can watch a movie while I massage your puffy pussy lips with my fingers. Maybe accidentally let one slip inside.”

Damnit. She moaned. She couldn’t help it. Neither could her hips as she moved them on her own.

“Harry,” she cried.

“I got you, come on. Stay.” His voice traveled through every inch of her insides.

If Y/N wasn’t so worried about missing an important topic in class, she’d keep her ass right in Harry’s room and let him have his way with her. But as much as she loved to be with Harry, she’d never forgive herself if she missed class over something that could wait.

“Okay, fine,” Y/N sighed and kissed his cheek. “But I’m hungry. Can you make me some breakfast?” Harry’s eyebrows shot up. He was not expecting to win that battle.

He nodded and flipped them over so Y/N was laid out on the bed. “Stay right here, princess. I’ll bring you up something nice,” He said, smiling widely. Y/N patting his jaw. “Thank you for staying. I love you.” He leaned down to kiss her, which she gladly accepted, before Harry shot out the door and down the stairs.

Y/N only laid there for a minute, debating which guilt would make her feel worse. Was it really a big deal if she missed one class? Was it so bad if she left Harry here for only two hours? She thought about it. And then she decided.

Her movements turned quick because she didn't want Harry to catch her in the act. Y/N dressed herself in sweatpants and a tank top that were left in her boyfriend's room and had never returned to her own dorm. She layered it with Harry's hoodie.

There were a pair of crocs that she left in his closet. They had to do. Her bag was against the desk as she slid it on, before leaving the room. She listened for Harry in the kitchen. He wasn’t alone as numerous voice toppled over his.

Y/N planned to sneak out the front door because it wasn’t in view from the kitchen. She crept down the stairs, listening in on Harry's conversation to ensure he wasn't about to go back up to his room.

“You gotta put that thing away, man!” She heard Isaiah complain.

“Why don’t you take care of it for me? If you’re so worried about it,” Harry snapped back. Niall laughed loudly.

“Poor Y/N, how does she even walk after that?” He sighed. “Don’t you feel guilty, H?”

“Mind your own business, Niall.”

“Hey, she’s my friend. I have a right to be concerned about her ability to walk after you destroy her with that absolute weapon!”

Y/N rolled her eyes and continued her journey. She successfully made it out, but hesitated closing the door behind her. Her teeth sunk into her lip as she thought about it. She’s already late. Maybe she could just email her professor to sum up the class.

It was tempting. Very. But she still closed the door and started a light jog to the bus stop.

dove: you left.

my baby: i did. i have class

dove: i made you breakfast

my baby: i know. i asked you to

dove: you tricked me.

my baby: i love you

dove: i need you

my baby: need me from afar

Harry didn’t respond, which surprised Y/N. But she just shrugged it off and flipped her phone over as her professor continued to teach the class. When she arrived, no one looked at her, but her professor gave her a sidelong glance. Y/N blushed profusely and scurried to her seat. She spread her papers out in front of her and caught up with everyone.

On the other hand, Harry wallowed in his room. He ate the breakfast he made for Y/N and sighed with every bite.

The class was two hours—two hours too many for Harry. He was laid out on his bed, huffing and pouting like a child. He missed his girlfriend. And so did his cock. His hand was softly squeezing over his sweats as his other texted Y/N again.

dove: i’m so hard rn

dove: i think i might have to fuck my hand, i cant wait two hours

Y/N placed her phone under the table, before looking at the screen. And she was thankful she did. She shot her eyes to the people sitting next to her, but they were too busy copying what was written on the board.

Her legs twitched at the message, and she shifted in her spot. She lowered her brightness, before responding.

my baby: i’m in class

dove: then come back. maybe ill forgive you

my baby: busy

dove: i need you.

my baby: i’m sorry

The three dots appeared for a while, but then disappeared. Y/N was a little disappointed. She didn’t think he’d back down. Unless both of his hands were busy. She shifted in her seat again, feeling a sudden damp in her panties.

Y/N began to set her phone down when a video sent from Harry appeared. The thumbnail was black, so Y/N clicked on it with curiosity. And her eyes widened when it started.

Harry’s cock filled up the screen with his thick fingers wrapped around it. The tip was red, twitching, and leaking with come. His voice was gravely as he slurred out a moan. Y/N squealed, lowering the volume completely before more was heard. No one glanced at her as the professor boomed her voice.

Harry’s hand moved up and down his cock at a slow pace. Y/N whole body jumped at the sparks that attacked her. The V line that led to his cock was prominent and so kissable. Harry lifted his hips to meet the thrust of his hand.

“Jesus, Harry,” Y/N mumbled, her eyes memorized on every detail of the video. His thigh muscles had Y/N’s breath uneven. She shot her eyes up when the class got suddenly quiet. The professor had asked a question and everyone’s hand went up. But for the first time, Y/N didn’t bother answering. She looked back down at the video of her boyfriend.

Nothing more happened besides Harry fucking his hand. He would occasionally swipe his tip, and his legs would twitch in response. Y/N was so eager to hear the sound, knowing exactly what noise he’d be making.

dove: for your eyes only, baby

Y/N was wet. It was starting to become uncomfortable. She had replayed the video with her eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

“Damnit,” she groaned. Her clit was now asking for attention. Y/N's free hand innocently rested on her lap before sliding between her thighs. It just looked as though she was simply warming up her hands with her heat. Her sweats were baggy, so nothing appeared off about her appearance.

Y/N watched the video again while running her finger along her cunt. She poked at her clit and flinched at the pleasure. She imagined how Harry’s cock would slide up her cunt to tease her before pushing in slowly, every inch stretching her.

Fuck.

dove: i want to come

dove: my cock needs you, Y/N. please.

Double fuck.

Y/N slapped her phone down and sat correctly, her attention trying to focus back on the class. She wrote what the professor explained and copied the board. Harry’s cock was red and shiny from the saliva he had spat in his hand. Y/N pushed her hair behind her ear and cleared her throat. His thighs muscles thickened when he thrusted up, just like he would when she would get tired on top of him. Y/N pinched her nose to ignore the thoughts. His hand moved faster when he felt close, but stopped to tease himself.

Triple fuck!

Y/N gathered her things and stuffed them into her bag. She was quiet but fast, making sure to not disrupt the class—whatever topic they were on. Her phone pinged, and she flipped it over as she expected Harry’s text.

dove: please tell me you're wet. are your thighs clenching together and your pretty fucking clit puffy?

Her grip on her phone tightened. She put it in her pocket before gathering the rest of her belongings. She slug her bag over one shoulder and excused herself out of the classroom.

Y/N walked with speed to the closest bathroom. Fortunately, not many classes were in session in the building, so the few stalls in that smaller bathroom were empty. Y/N took out her phone as she leaned against the counter.

my baby: i’m in the bathroom

my baby: can’t focus anymore. thanks for that

Harry answered right away.

dove: are you wet?

my baby: so wet.

She could imagine Harry moaning at her text.

my baby: did you come yet?

dove: ofc not. its only going to be inside of you

Y/N covered her mouth to gasp. She walked into the farthest stall and locked it shut. She threw her bag to the side and pressed her back against the wall.

dove: what are you doing in the bathroom?

my baby: you know what

Her hand shoved into her sweats. She didn’t waste any time pushing her panties to the side and collecting the juices that instantly coated her fingers.

dove: tell me

my baby: you don’t deserve to know. but i can tell you it feels really good.

Y/N wasn’t lying. Her thumb and index finger pinched her clit, causing her to moan in the echoing, empty room. Her hand holding her phone dropped to the side as she focused on her fingers. She pushed her ring finger inside herself, imaging it was Harry’s. That made her eyes roll back.

Suddenly, her phone started to ring. Y/N looked down and saw Harry’s contact on screen. She smirked through her gasps. “Fuck,” she whined, before declining the call. Her hand dropped again.

dove: answer. let me see you.

Y/N typed with one hand while the other plunged more fingers into her cunt. Her eyes were turning glassy that it was kind of hard to see.

my baby: not yet.

dove: just wait until you come back, baby. i promise I’m going to fuck you dumb

Y/N moaned at the text. Her legs warned to give out, but she didn’t want to sit naked on the bathroom floor. Harry had too much power over her when it should’ve been the other way around. So, she had an idea.

Y/N swiped to the camera app and pressed the video tab. Her phone was between her legs, revealing everything. She started recording, looking down at the screen with a whiny face—eyebrows drawn together, lips parted as she gasped with each thrust of her fingers.

“Yes,” she moaned, touching her sensitive clit. “I want to come so bad. Fuck. I need it, dovie,” She hissed. “I have to do it all by myself.” Her head fell back against the wall, the camera shaking from her wavering hand. Her fingers shot into her cunt and curled, just like Harry would do to earn the most symphonic noises from her.

The video was filled with heavy breathing and wet fingers moving inside of Y/N’s cunt. Her thighs clamped together.

“I can’t hold this anymore,” Y/N sighed, raising the camera to her face. She stared back at her flushed cheeks and smiled. “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” Y/N ended the video and boldly sent it to Harry.

A few minutes of silence passed. During that time, Y/N stopped playing with herself and cleaned up with toilet paper. She was desperately horny, and just as needy as her boyfriend, but really didn’t want to come in the bathroom alone.

When she was composed, Y/N walked to the door to leave, but a message from Harry finally went through.

dove: Y/N, come to my dorm right now.

my baby: i have to get back to class.

dove: then im on my way

Y/N chuckled with a roll of her eyes.

Yeah right.

my baby: ill see you later

Y/N left the bathroom and snuck back into her classroom. Maybe she was gone for a suspiciously long amount of time because the classmates that sat besides her gave her an up and down glance. One raised their eyebrows and chuckled.

Y/N wanted to die on the spot.

Another ten minutes passed, and Y/N was able to rejoin the class as if she had never left. She quickly caught up on her notes and answered some of the questions the professor asked. It felt good to be back and focused on what was important. Not her boyfriend, who should be at his dorm pouting and waiting for the time to roll by.

She was wrong.

Her phone pinged, and she was going to ignore it, but after another buzz to her thigh, she looked.

dove: im outside your classroom. come here

dove: i’ll gladly walk in and take care of business on your professor’s desk

Y/N eyes widened as she read the messages. She cursed under her breath, considering what to do. Harry wouldn’t actually do that—storm into her class and cause a scene, but the fact that he was here, in the building, caught her off guard.

Once again, her papers were collected and stuffed back into her bag. Y/N waited until her professor turned away to face the board, before scurrying out. She could feel the heat of eyes on her back, and her hand connecting to Harry’s face when she finds him.

Just like he said he was, Harry leaned against the wall by her classroom door. He looked out into the distance with a smug smile, lost in thought. Y/N puffed out a breath, earning his attention. His smile turned into a devilish smirk.

“Hello, baby,” He said, stalking towards her.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N stepped forward and hit his chest. “Everyone saw me leave twice because of you. I’m so fucking embarrassed. I’ll have to drop the class now. I can’t walk in there ever again. You—”

Y/N was cut off by a hard kiss from Harry. He grasped her neck and held her there, immediately shooting his tongue into her mouth. Y/N moaned within the kiss, holding onto Harry’s wrist. He pulled away an inch to speak. “What bathroom were you in?” He asked in a voice so low, Y/N could barely hear him.

Her head motioned to her right. “Down the hall. It’s the smallest in the building so more likely that I’d be alone,” She explained. The end of Harry’s lips curled up.

“Perfect.” He kissed her roughly again before moving behind her. He pushed his cock against her ass and sighed in relief. “Lead the way. I’m right behind you.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

Harry pressed closely to his girlfriend as she walked them to the bathroom she previously occupied. He leaned down to find her ear. “I missed you. And I love you.” Y/N looked up at him.

“I know, and I know,” She giggled, stopping in her tracks to push her ass back against him, before continuing to walk.

The couple made it to the bathroom, and it was empty. Harry thanked the heavens because no one deserved to hear the noises he was soon to yank out of Y/N’s throat.

“Which stall?” He asked. Y/N pointed to the farthest one, and the biggest. “Get in there.”

She turned to face him. “You’re staying here?” He lifted his chin, staring down at her degradingly.

“When you get inside, you take off this hoodie and bra. Then you get on your knees and wait patiently for my cock. Understand?” Harry instructed. His hand swiftly wrapped around her neck.

Y/N gulped—nervously and excitedly, she wasn’t sure—before nodding.

“Finally listening. Good girl.” Harry smacked her ass. “Go.”

Y/N went inside the stall and shut the door behind her, but didn’t lock it. She placed her bag on the wall opposite of her. Harry was quiet on the other side, and it grew nerves inside of her. What was he doing?

Like he told her to do, his hoodie came off, so did her tank top and bra. She stuffed them inside her bag so it wasn’t on the floor. Finally, she sank down to her knees and shuddered. She was facing the door, so whoever opened it would have a full view of everything.

Y/N’s eyes saw Harry’s feet near the sink, deadly still. He didn’t move for a while, nor made any sound. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to tell him she was ready, but it had to be obvious because it’s been a while.

“I made sure I didn’t come, this morning,” Harry suddenly spoke. Y/N flinched in surprise. “Even after you left, after I texted you, sent that video, watched yours and fucking almost died on the spot, Y/N, I stopped myself. You know why?” Y/N wanted to soak into the floor by the authority of his voice. He sounded mad. Good.

Y/N watched his feet move closer to her stall. They stopped when he was exactly on the other side.

“You want to know why I made sure I didn’t come after the painful hardon I had?” Harry asked. The door swung open and there he was. Eyes filled with desire, lips panting out harsh breaths. And his cock out of his boxers and sweats. It was slapped up against his chest—thick, veiny, and perfectly fitted for any of Y/N’s holes.

The girl gasped as she stared straight at his cock. Her mouth dared to water at the sight.

Harry leaned forward, and Y/N had to tilt her chin up to meet him face to face. His tilted to the side in a teasing manner. It felt degrading with her naked on the floor as he stood, almost clothed, with a shit eating grin.

“Because I promised myself that when I have you, this heavy load that I’ve been carrying is going to fill every inch of you,” Harry finished as he grabbed Y/N’s jaw. He made sure she continued to look at him. “And you will take everything I give you. I almost feel bad about how much you'll leak when I take you back to my room and do it all over again.”

Maybe Y/N shouldn’t have teased him.

She smiled sincerely at him. “Is it too late to apologize?” Harry chuckled and let go of her jaw to stand back up straight. He took his cock into his hand.

“You’re about to apologize right now,” He said. “Now open.”

Y/N was timid to do so, but her mouth widened anyway. Her boyfriend definitely wasn’t small, and it always took some time for him to fit anywhere inside of her. But she was still obsessed with him. He was pretty, and veiny, pink at the tip, and reactive every time she was near. It made her feel special.

Harry sighed at the sight of Y/N. His hand tugged on his cock. Not that he really needed to because he was already as hard as he could get. He’d been waiting for this all morning.

Harry pressed his thumb into Y/N’s lower lip to push it down further. His other hand directed his cock into her mouth. Y/N subconsciously closed around him, hollowing her cheeks. Harry hissed at the warmth around him. He tangled his fingers into her hair for a grip.

“Think you’re ready, baby?” He asked her. Y/N looked up at him with doe eyes and nodded. “I don’t think so,” He teased.

Harry doesn’t waste another minute stuffing his cock into Y/N’s mouth like he dreamt of since that morning. His body tensed up as he let out a predatory moan. Y/N used her hand to stroke the inches that couldn’t fit in her mouth.

She bobbed her head quickly, feeling Harry twitch inside of her. He could drop on the spot from how weak in the knees he felt. His thighs gladly accepted her sharp nails digging into the flesh.

He wanted it to leave a mark.

Harry’s cock was finally getting the attention it needed. It was warm inside Y/N’s mouth and was teased by her tongue that petted the veins along the sides. His tip pressed the back of her throat, causing her to gag and back away briefly. But Harry had a hold on her hair to guide himself back inside of her.

Moans were spilling out him. “I’m already about to come, baby. Doing so good for me,” Harry praised her. He looked down to watch Y/N’s eyes squeezed shut as she focused on sliding his cock in and out of her mouth. She fondled his balls to quicken the process. “Gonna let me fuck your face now? Finally adjusted to my cock?” He needed to get control again before he got lost in the pleasure. She did that to him.

Y/N nodded and dropped her hands to his thighs for leverage. Harry drew his eyebrows together as he held her by the hair. He planned to start at a slow pace, but as Y/N tried to move her head closer to suck him in, he knew she was ready for him. Needy thing.

Harry kept Y/N’s head still, before snapped his hips forward. He tested the waters and watched for a reaction. Y/N shut her eyes while a muffled moan strained out of her. Harry took that as the confirmation to keep going.

His thrusts were quick. Each time he went in, he’d hit the back of her throat. It felt like heaven. Y/N moaning around him sent vibrations to every nerve in his cock. She watched his stomach muscles—covered by ferns—react to each thrust. She loved the view.

Her eyes turned glassy from the tears building up. Her jaw was tired and sore, but it was only the beginning. She was ready for it all.

Harry didn’t back down on his speed. His hips were fast and direct, never missing a beat or shifting. He hit the same place each time. “Fucking love your mouth, baby,” He spoke out loud. “The perfect shape. Made for me, I swear.” He groaned as he looked down at Y/N drooling from the corner of her mouth.

There was a puddle dripping in her sweats. Y/N was extremely wet that she dared the thought of taking care of herself right in front of him. But it was a death wish to try. Harry had a plan for her.

His grip in her hair tightened, pulling a moan out of her. He was close. His head threw back again, Y/N getting the perfect view of the underside of his chin. His neck was thick and veiny as he clenched his teeth together. He was letting out hard pants.

“Gonna fill your mouth with my come, baby. You’re gonna swallow it all like my good girl?” Y/N nodded, unintentionally bobbing her head to match his thrust. She shifted on her knees in anticipation. She loved the taste, the saltiness of his come. It spurted in her mouth like a dart from how hard he usually comes. She had pride from being able to make him do that.

Harry stopped his movements as he moaned out a gasp. “Take it all, Y/N. I’m not asking.” Her thighs wanted to squeeze together.

After one last thrust, Harry was shooting down Y/N’s throat. His moaning and heavy breathing got louder as he released. He repeated Y/N’s name under his breath, and it was music to her ears.

Harry pulled out, allowing Y/N to swallow properly. She smiled like an angel as she enjoyed the taste in her mouth. Harry had a hand on the stall door to balance himself.

“Open,” He said to her through pants. She stuck her tongue out. Every drip was gone and down her throat. “You’re fucking amazing. I don’t think I tell you enough.” Y/N laughed.

“You don’t. You only tell me three times a day. I need more.” Harry winked at his girlfriend and stood back up straight. Y/N wanted to discard her sweats as her panties were destroyed, and soon her sweats.

Harry grabbed Y/N by the armpits and lifted her to her feet.. She had to hold onto his shoulders. Her body was on complete fire, mostly her bruised throat and scalp. But it felt amazing.

“You okay, baby? Too much?” Harry held Y/N by her hips, their bodies close together, as he asked her. He kissed her cheek, before backing his head to look at her.

Y/N smiled drunklike. Her throat was tight, and she didn’t trust herself to speak. So, she did it by grabbing his face and engulfing him in a wild kiss. Harry tasted himself on her tongue.

“I can take that as a ‘yes’?” He chuckled when she stopped. Y/N nodded and quickly kissed him again. “Okay, good. Stand at the wall and hold onto it,” He instructed, flicking his eyes to the spot he wanted her at.

Y/N did her best to walk over there with a seductive sway of her lips. Harry smiled proudly at her. He leaned down to pull his sweats and boxers down, stepping out of them. Y/N didn’t see as she was facing the wall.

Harry approached her from behind and did the same with her sweats. “Lift your feet, baby. Let me get you out of these.” He helped her slid the rest of her clothes off until they were both naked. “This is a sight I need embroidered in my head,” Harry commented as he unabashedly examined Y/N’s posed body leaning against the wall. She smiled shyly and looked away, facing the wall again.

Harry stood behind Y/N, kissing the back of her neck as his arms wrapped around her body. His cock poked into her ass, and she pushed back against it. She was actually dripping down her thighs now that her panties were gone.

He sucked a mark on her shoulder and another on her shoulder blade. He peppered more kisses down her back, before traveling back up until he found her ear.

“Ready to take me like a good girl, baby?” Harry asked. Y/N arched at the question and nodded. “Say it. I don’t care if your voice is gone. I want to hear you want me.” She whined with her head falling back on his shoulder. Harry grabbed her breasts and squeezed them in response.

She let out a breath, before struggling to properly say, “I’m ready for you. I want your cock in me so bad, dove.”

“Yeah?” Harry smirked and kissed her jaw. “You want my cock?” Y/N nodded, pushing into him again to prove her point. She was thinking of just reaching back and doing the work herself. She was over the teasing.

“Yes. Please.”

“Alright, I got you. You’re gonna take me so well. I just know you will,” Harry whispered, dragging his hand down her stomach and around her hip to her ass. He squeezed her cheek, before finding his cock and holding it. “My baby is gonna let me fuck her so hard, yeah? Apologize for leaving me all alone this morning, huh?” Y/N nodded, even though she really wanted to roll her eyes hard enough that her pupils disappeared.

Harry held Y/N by her waist—an arm horizontal across it—while lining himself with her cunt. Y/N waited in anticipation. Her hands holding the wall in front of her. She arched her back and bit her lip.

A gasp was shared between the couple when Harry finally pushed into Y/N completely. His lower abdomen touched her ass. Harry was in complete bliss that he had to stay still for a moment because of the overwhelming pleasure. He placed his hands over Y/N’s against the wall. He curled his fingers between hers.

“Fuck me,” He groaned as Y/N panted. She thought his cock in her mouth took her voice away. No, it was his cock stretching her walls as if it were their first time. He slipped in so easily from her wet cunt inviting him in eagerly. “Good, princess?”

“Yeah. Yes. Fuck, yes,” Y/N nodded rapidly. Her eyes fluttered shut so her senses were directed to Harry leaving her cunt briefly before plunging right back inside. Her hands turned into fist—one of Harry’s held the back of hers, but the other dropped to her hip for leverage. She felt his nails dig into her hip.

He started a slow pace so they could cherish the tightness of Y/N’s walls and Harry’s thick cock filling her up. Y/N choked on her own moans at each thrust. Her ass snapped back in its own. Harry loved it.

“Alright, baby. I’m done being gentle with you,” Harry whispered in her ear. “Ready?”

“Mhmmm. Yes,” Y/N answered, followed by incoherent noises that added to Harry’s list of his favorite things he’s heard come out of her mouth.

Both of Harry’s hands were on her hips. His grip was rough that it was for sure going to leave marks. For his eyes only, though.

He fastened his thrust, jumping to a brutal speed. The skin slapping sounded of an audience clapping at an award show. Loud, fast, and full of pride. That’s what Harry felt as Y/N took him perfectly.

His head tilted up to the ceiling with his eyes shut. He buried himself in the pleasure of his cock being covered by what it yearned for. Not his hand, but the cunt made for it. His cock was home, and it wasn’t leaving any time soon.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Harry moaned loudly as he felt his legs almost give out. His pace didn’t stop, it actually went faster. Y/N gasped at the fiery of his thrust. He was getting his revenge, and she loved the pain that was included.

“Keep going, dove. I want it,” Y/N panted out. She searched behind her for some part of him. Harry felt her hand on his shoulder and smiled. He let go of her hip to twist her arm behind her back—a new kind of leverage. Y/N whined as she wanted some sort of comfort. But as he squeezed at her wrist, her eyes rolled back.

“You’re so warm and tight, baby. I can stay in you all fucking day. I don’t think I’m ever gonna stop,” Harry spoke over the skin slapping. Y/N had a moment of weakness from his voice. She had to use the wall to stop herself from falling on the floor. “I got you, princess. I’m not letting you go anywhere. You’re taking all of this,” Harry chuckled as he watched her struggle in front of him.

Harry barely spoke like that during sex. He was gentle, holding back on the teasing because he was too caught up in the love of their intimacy. But today, he was pissed. And he was going to make sure she felt it.

He switched his thrust again. Snapping his hips hard into her at a slow pace. Y/N yelped each time, feeling him reach deeper than before. She looked down at her stomach.

“What? You feel me in there, princess?” Harry asked. He pushed into her and groaned. “I do too. Reaching so deep inside my baby. Only I can do that, right?”

Y/N nodded. “Yes. Only you. More.” Her words were wavering, but he still understood. He always knew what do to satisfy his girl. She would turn into a moaning, mumbling mess because of him. He loved that power.

Harry wasn’t stopping anytime soon, but Y/N could feel her release creeping up on her. He noticed because she was squeezing his cock more frequently and writhing in her spot. She was too busy whimpering to tell him. Her ass tried to meet his thrust like before, but she was tired and ready to burst.

Her forehead met the wall. “I’m... dovie, I—”

“I know, babygirl. Doing so fucking good. Gonna lick that pretty little cunt of yours when we get home,” Harry whispered to her. She moaned through heavy breaths. He was trying to kill her.

Harry continued to throw praise and light degradation to tease her. Y/N took it all with whining moans. Her knees bent and wiggled. She was getting close. Harry, on the other hand, she wasn’t so sure as he’d snap into her with a loud, gravely moan, causing her clit to throb, before pulling out slowly and doing the same again.

“Can I hold onto you? I’m close,” Y/N cried out. Harry was still holding her arm down behind her back. His face grew soft at her request.

He briefly stopped his thrust. “Of course, my good girl,” He chuckled. “Turn around.” Y/N did so, and Harry wanted to kiss all over her. She looked spent but not completely satisfied.

His hands grabbed her legs and picked her up while they wrapped around his waist. He pressed her to the wall, smiling up at her. She returned it and kissed him. Her arms locked around his neck.

Harry slid his cock back into her and continued his fast, furious pace. Y/N cried out every curse she could think of while twisting Harry’s name into the mix. It was getting him close to his own release. Hearing her beg him to bring her to euphoria became his most important mission.

Fuck revenge. He would do anything right now to please his girl.

Harry reached between them to rub at her clit. It was throbbing fast like her heartbeat against his chest. “Mmmm, my baby’s clit is so warm and pretty,” He said, pressing his lips against Y/N’s opened ones. She was trying her best to breathe properly. “It’s all mine. I get to rub it all day, all night. Make my girl feel so fucking good. That’s all I want to do. Make you feel so good. Okay?”

Y/N suddenly came, gasping loudly and digging her nails into Harry’s back. With a few slow thrust, he was right behind her.

Harry smoothly rode Y/N through her orgasm, whispering more sweet nothings in her ear as his fingers quickened its rubbing on her clit. His cock continued to spurt more come that he stayed deep inside of her.

The couple were panting in sync now, reminiscing the sinful activity they partook in this innocent bathroom.

Harry pushed his cock into her a few more times. “Making sure all my come stays in there. Keep hold of it for me.” Y/N giggled and kissed his neck. It was all just dirty talk. Harry knew Y/N should pee and clean up her legs.

He pulled out of Y/N, before placing her on the toilet. While she peed, he gathered their clothes from the floor and her bag. He bent down to slip her panties and sweats back on. She put on the rest of her clothes herself so Harry could catch up with his own.

When they were completely dressed, Harry lifted Y/N back in the air and held her against him. Her legs wrapped around his waist again.

“How ya feel, baby?” He asked her, walking to her bag in the corner. He slipped his arms through the straps so he was wearing it himself.

“Sore. Very fucking sore. It’s not fair,” she pouted. Harry chuckled and kissed her puffed out lip.

“Well, your only break is during the drive back to my room. Use it wisely,” Harry said, nonchalantly. Y/N eyebrows raised.

“What?”

“Don’t you remember? We’re doing this all over again.” His smile was wicked. Y/N sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. Harry walked them out the bathroom and to his truck.

Y/N really shouldn’t have teased him.

dont even say it. i know. im ashamed. but fuck, it was kinda good

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x yn #college!harry x quiet!yn #College!Harry #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff

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rubyreduji · 7 months

Text

sweat pumpin', heart thumpin' — lc

summary: when you get horny at rehearsal you want nothing more than to go home and take care of your problem, but you get stopped when chan asks you to run a dance with him, in the end you find a way to help each other out

tags: smut (minors dni!), theatre/dancer!au warnings: brief mentions of idol x idol, sweat, age gap (reader is ten years older than chan), explicit unprotected sex, oral (f. rec), fingering, mirror sex, pussy drunk chan, praise, chan is obsessed with the reader wc: 4.0k an: horny theatre adults 🤥 lowkey the reader talks like she’s old as fuck but she’s only thirty-two

Three hours. That's how long you've been at dance rehearsal. Three hours, yet it feels like it's been a lifetime.

The air in the room is humid from the heat radiating off of everyone's bodies. The studio is a mess with clothes long discarded on the perimeters of the marley and water bottles and dance bags crowding up the walkways.

Your head and feet are throbbing as you run the routine again. Soonyoung is shouting the steps out as you do them but you've been tuning him out since the hour and a half mark.

You're a dancer, you love your job, but you don't love five hour long night rehearsals right after your shift at your second job as a diner waitress. Your muscles ache and scream at you as you push them to do the moves again and again and again. There's no stopping though. Not when Soonyoung is in one of his moods and you could cut the tension between him and Jihoon with a knife, as Jihoon glares at the choreographer over the top of the piano. You're not sure if the producer knew those two were dating when he hired them on as the music director and choreographer but it's clear the two of them are struggling to separate work and home in whatever new fight they're in this week.

Beside you Mingyu stops, huffing a bit before lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead. You don't bother trying to hide the way you stare at his body. Everyone here knows he's hot, including himself. So you allow yourself to take a good, long look at his tanned, hardened abs, glistening with his sweat. You try to ignore the tingle you feel in your core but you can't lie to yourself and pretend you're not turned on right now when your underwear has been wet since the start of rehearsal.

Though it may be pubescent, you can't help it. You've had a long day, a long week, and now right before your weekend starts you're trapped in a dance studio with a couple dozen sweaty, sexy dancers. It also doesn't help that you're all dying of heat and stripping off clothes left and right. Minghao's shirt has been off since the end of the first number and Jeonghan's wearing those tiny shorts again, so tight you can see the outline of his balls. It's not just the boys who are driving you mad though, Sana has been walking around with her cleavage hanging out of her shirt and Mina's sports bra does nothing to hide the pebbling of her nipples underneath.

It’s not just you feeling the energy of the room though. You can see the strain of Jun’s dick against his gray sweats and you keep catching Vernon staring directly at Seungkwan’s ass. None of you can help it though, it’s hard not to get aroused by the sound of the pants and grunts surrounding you.

“Okay guys, that’s a ten!” The stage manager calls and you all let out a collective sigh of relief. Your body sags automatically, all of your perfect form leaving your muscles.

You trudge over to your water bottle, gulping down as much of the cool liquid as you can. You don’t want to sit, fearing that if you do you’ll never get up, but your knees physically cannot hold you up any longer and you allow yourself to sink to the ground. You kick off your shoes and dig around in your bag before pulling out a couple bandaids to patch up where your heels are starting to blister.

When you’re sure your break is over you glance across the room to see Soonyoung standing next to Jihoon’s piano, the two seemingly locked in a heated conversation. You’re a bit grateful, knowing that your stage manager isn’t stupid enough to come in between the two of them when they’re like this. Maybe they’ll argue for long enough that rehearsal will end early. If that happened you could go home and take care of your problem.

Even while on break you can’t escape the lust that clouds your brain. Only a few feet away from you, you can see the way Seokmin presses up against Jihyo, whispering in her ear as she giggles at whatever he said, her hand placed on his upper thigh. Just to their right Momo’s hands are all over Nayeon as she helps fix Nayeon’s form for a specific move. God you really hope you’re not leaking through your shorts.

You’re about to get up to start practicing again when Soonyoung walks away from Jihoon and over to the group.

“Great work today everybody. I know we were supposed to be here for two more hours but I’m sure you guys aren’t complaining about getting your weekend faster so let’s release early today. See you all again on Monday.”

Everyone starts to hurriedly pack up, ready to go home or out to a bar to start their weekend off. Your body doesn’t want to move yet so you stay put, now knowing you have all the time in the world to pack up.

Almost everyone is gone when you finally start to pack up. Almost everyone, besides Lee Chan. Just as you’re about to stand up and leave when he walks over to you, his form hovering over you, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him.

“You know the Valerie part right?”

“Huh?” You’re not sure what he wanted, but you definitely weren't expecting that.

“You’re the understudy for the role of Valerie, so you know the Fast Pace choreography, right?”

“Uhm…yeah…why?”

“Could you run it with me?”

No. Is your automatic thought. You’re sweaty and tired and horny and you just want to go home. You’re getting one night to go home early and you’re not going to spend it doing even more rehearsing.

Lee Chan is the youngest person in the cast at the age of twenty-two. He’s new to the theatre scene, but his talent far outshines his novice, as shown by him landing the lead role in his first big professional musical. You admire his ambition to rehearse as hard as he can, but a part of you is worried the kid is gonna pass out from exhaustion.

You remember when you were like him, a prodigy back when you started. You had to learn the hard way to stop overworking yourself. Now being in your thirties, you still put out your best work, but without all of the extra hours.

“Kid, I’ve seen you run that number, it’s flawless. Take the night off.” You hike your bag up on your shoulder to try and signal that whether or not he wants to run it, you do not.

“Please! Just once. I promise I’ll be done after that. I’ll even walk you to your car!” Chan begs. You snort a bit at the ending offer, but it’s not enough to fully convince you.

“I’m not putting my Laduca’s back on.” You think about your forming blisters on your feet and cringe.

“You don’t have to! Please?”

Chan’s a cutie, you do have to admit that. Which is why you find yourself sighing and dropping your bag back onto the floor.

“Just once and then I’m going home.”

“Thank you so much!” Chan quickly runs over to the speakers and hooks his phone up. You move to the center of the dance studio, watching through the mirror as Chan hurries back over to you.

The rhythmic beat of the song starts to play and you slip into your stage persona. Your body moves on its own, the choreography ingrained in your muscles as you and Chan move swiftly around each other. You can feel the slight pain in your feet but your mind gets distracted by Chan running his hand down your back.

You feel his body right next to yours and you try to suppress a moan. Somehow in between all of Chan’s begging you seemed to forget how sexually charged Fast Pace is. Chan presses his body up against yours and you do your best to continue on with the dance while ignoring the throbbing in your core. You’ve only run this dance with the understudy for Chan’s character and while the sexual tension is still apparent with him, you feel like you’re suffocating from it right now. Chan’s hands linger on you, his body pressing a bit too tight to yours.

Your breaking point is when you have to sit on Chan’s knee, his arm hooking around your thigh a beat. When Chan goes to unhook his arm from your leg his hand brushes against your inner thigh, not quite touching your crotch but enough to catch you off guard.

“F-fuck Chan,” you mutter.

“Are you okay?” Chan asks, his hand sliding up your back. You’re sure it’s to comfort you, but all it does is make your brain more fuzzy.

“Y-yeah, you’re just- uhm…nothing. I’m fine. Let’s just start over.”

“...Okay.” Chan moves over to the speakers to restart the song before getting back in place.

The song starts again and you push down every horny thought floating through your mind right now in favor of focusing on the dance. You think you’re doing pretty good until Chan’s body presses up against yours once more and you gasp.

“Holy shit Chan. Are you…hard?” You can feel the subtle press of something firm against your hip that could really only be one thing.

Behind you, Chan whimpers. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just…you’ve been my celebrity crush since I was like fourteen and it’s a dream that I get to be in the same cast as you. And you’re just so hot when you dance so I asked you to run this dance with me and touching you is driving me crazy but I didn’t mean to actually get a boner and I’m so sorry-”

You shut Chan up by surging forward, capturing him in a deep kiss. Automatically his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into him as he whines into your mouth.

“Wanted you so bad,” Chan mumbles in between kisses. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

You know professionally you really shouldn’t be hooking up with your castmates, but it’s clear nobody else in your cast seems to care, and if you’re being honest, giving Chan a chance to be with his teenage wet dream really gets you going. So you throw all professional advice out of your mind as you let Chan back you up against the mirrors.

You justify it by telling yourself you need this. Which, you do.

Chan’s hands are impatient as they tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it up over your head and tossing it across the room. Chan’s mouth moves to the crook of your neck and you’re about to push him away, knowing that it’s gross and sweaty, but you hear Chan moan and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t turn you on even more. Chan’s fingers move up your torso to grasp your breasts, kneading them in his hands.

You push him away for a moment, allowing you to grab your sports bra and pull it off your body, your tits fall free from the confines.

You can hear the shuddered breath Chan takes as he descends on you once more.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” Chan whines. His mouth is sloppy as he kisses at your chest, moving down so he can suck one of your boobs into his mouth. You bury your fingers into his hair, tugging slightly and making him moan against your skin.

“Channie,” you mumble. “Need you.”

“Fuck, yes, yes, okay.” Chan quickly pulls away from you to sink to his knees. Chan’s hands are shaking as he hooks his fingers into your waistband, pulling down your shorts and underwear in one go. Though you were expecting it, you gasp a bit at now being fully exposed to the room.

You barely have a moment to collect yourself before Chan is throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and diving forward. You moan as you press your back into the mirror, trying to ground yourself as Chan’s lips close around your clit. His mouth is eager as he sucks at the bud, your pussy fluttering around nothing as he does so.

Chan has a strong grip on your thighs as he feasts on your cunt. His skill is sloppy but it drives you even more crazy knowing how desperate he is for this. You can hear Chan moaning and feel the vibrations of his mouth rumble against your clit.

“Mm, yer’so wet,” Chan mumbles, already sounding a bit out of it. His mouth delves even further, his tongue swiping over your slit and collecting your arousal. His tongue laps at you, exploring your folds and making a mess of his face.

You push your hips further into Chan’s face, needing him against you as much as possible. Needing him inside of you. Luckily he seems to get the message and moves his hand from your hip to the inside of your thigh, trailing up before you feel his fingers brush against your entrance. His fingers drag against your folds for a moment before he pushes them inside you, making you groan out.

He doesn’t waste time picking up the speed of his fingers as he rapidly fingers you, his digits brushing against your walls as he pumps them inside you with no method. You can feel Chan shift under you and soon you hear the plap of his hand as he jerks his cock. His mouth is harsh against your clit as he sucks hard, his own pleasure causing him to work harder on you.

“Good boy, good boy,” you coo as you grasp Chan’s hair tightly, yanking slightly. Your whole body feels sensitive as you buzz with pleasure. You roll your hips against Chan’s fingers, desperate to be filled up even more.

You can hear the high pitched whines emitting from Chan as he gets more and more desperate to cum. It fills your head with a cloudiness that has you pushing the boy away from you so you can pull him to stand against. His eyes are hooded and his face is shiny with your slick but you don’t care, crashing your mouth into his.

Chan automatically grabs you, pushing against your body as hard as he can, sandwiching you between him and the mirror. You two are locked in a lip wrestle as Chan’s hips softly hump against your hip. You break away from Chan for a moment, both of you panting desperately, so you can pull his shirt over his head. Chan takes the moment to fully shed his shorts as well, leaving both of you completely bare.

Chan quickly descends on you once more, pushing your bodies flush. His skin is warm and soft against yours and you hate to admit how long it’s been since you’ve felt something so erotic. Your pussy clenches down, desperate to have Chan’s cock inside of you. The boy is just as desperate as his cock slips between your thighs, doing his best to get any friction against him.

“So needy,” you murmur as you trail your fingers down Chan’s chest.

Chan hums in agreement. “Wan’you so bad.”

“You’re so cute Channie,” you tell him, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. “You ever been with an older woman, baby?”

“No. Barely been with anyone at all. No time.” Chan’s fingers tighten on you as he ruts against you harder. His eyes are glossed over with lust in a way that can only be considered pathetic. You’re obsessed with it though. The idea that you now have this young, inexperienced boy at your will, eager to fuck you.

“You’re sure you can handle me, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Yes. Please. I promise I can handle it. Have all the stamina. I need you so bad. I’ve wanted you for so long, please let me have you.” His cock is leaking all over your thighs as he spreads his precum with each one of his thrusts.

You chuckle slightly. “Okay then baby. Fuck me nice and good.”

“Fuck, thank you. Thank you so much.”

Chan hastily lines his tip up to your folds, rubbing it there just for a second, before fully sliding inside of you. He lets out a long shuddered breath as you adjust to his size, your cunt hugging him tight.

“H-holy shit. Fuck you’re perfect,” Chan whines as he starts to thrust into you. You hook one of your legs around his waist, pulling him in closer. Chan buries his face into your neck, peppering kisses there as he thrusts into you desperate, void of any rhythm.

You tilt your head back and release a soft moan and it mixes with the wet sound of Chan’s cock sliding in and out of you. Despite claiming to be inexperienced, you can’t remember the last time someone has fucked you this good. Though his pace is inconsistent, his hips have power behind them as they roll into you, making his dancer background loud and clear.

His cock is heavy as it drags in and out of, his girth spreading your walls out as you clamp down on him like a vise. Your mind hums pleasantly now that Chan has started to satiate that hunger that was gnawing at your insides. Chan’s restless as his hands drag over your body, touching you everywhere he can while his lips explore where his hands aren’t.

You can hear him mutter soft praises as he does so, more babbling to himself than to you. He once more takes your breasts in his mouth, lapping at your nipple before sucking the fat into his mouth. His mouth is loud as he works at your chest, getting your tits wet with his spit. You can feel your cunt clench as pleasure blooms in your chest, your body arching up to meet his touch.

“You look so pretty,” Chan tells you, a bit louder than all of his other mumbles. “So, so pretty. Want you to see.”

With that Chan releases his grip on you, sliding out of you and causing you to whine a bit, not ready to feel so empty so quickly. Chan is empathetic though and quickly enters you once more, but not before spinning around so he’s not behind you. You gasp loud as Chan starts to pound into you, even harder this time.

With hooded eyes you stare at the mirror in front of you, watching as Chan ravishes you. You know that objectively you and Chan are both very attractive people, but seeing the physical image of you together is even more than you imagined. You take a moment to admire the muscles of Chan’s arms and the way they’re tightly wrapped around you. Your tits bounce with each thrust and Chan reaches up to paw at them, his thumb brushing against your sensitive nipple.

Behind you, Chan is also focused on the mirror, staring at your forms over your shoulder. His face is screwed up in pure euphoria as he ruts into you with soft whimpers, completely entranced by the feel of your pussy around him.

Chan’s breath is hot against your neck as he starts to talk, his words slightly slurred together. “D’you know how long I’ve wanted t’do this? U-used to watch videos of you dancing and study your form and your body. Your sexy fucking thighs. I’d get s’hard.”

You’re aware that you’re well known in the dancing community, and you’re aware that you have fans, but hearing Chan talk about you like this is on a whole new level.

“‘Member that show you starred in, and the company would p-post rehearsal footage, but they dance were so fucking erotic. I’d, ah, f-fuck my fist thinking about you while watching them. Younger me would pass out if he knew that I’d get to fuck your perfect pussy.” Chan’s completely gone as he talks to you. You’ve never seen someone so drunk on pussy alone, but you find it flattering more than anything else. It doesn’t hurt that Chan’s words are making your cunt leak even more than it already is.

Chan takes a moment to suck a mark into your neck, his fingers trembling against your hips from how tight he’s holding you. His hips don’t stop though, steadily thrusting into you, the slap of his skin against yours making the most delicious beat you’ve ever heard.

As soon as Chan pops his mouth off of you, he’s back to sharing his story. “I think yer’even sexier now. C-can’t stop watching you in rehearsal. Nearly cried when I found out you were on this show. B-but m’glad you’re not the love interest…w-wouldn’t be able to focus with how, fuck, hard I’d be.”

“Chan,” you moan out, his words filling your mind with nothing but a cloud of lust.

His words continue, in the same breathy whiny tone, fucked out and pathetic. “Fuck, touching you like this, shit m’the luckiest man alive.”

Chan’s eyes are nearly invisible from how hooded his eyes are, his face completely blissed out. The mix of Chan’s expression and his words is enough to have you on the edge and you push your ass back against Chan hard.

“Chan, need you to make me cum. Can you be a good boy and do that?”

“S-shit, yes. Fuck, okay.” Chan grasps your waist hard and angles his cock inside of you differently, bumping into your walls until you let out a cry and he knows he’s found your sweet spot. You lean forward, bracing yourself on the mirror as Chan starts to slam into your g-spot, rough and unrelenting. He slips his fingers between your legs, rubbing at your clit to speed the process along.

Albeit, it is still quite a novice level, your vision whites out as your orgasm crashes over you. You drop all your weight against the mirror as your body arches and you let out a scream. Your pussy flutters against Chan’s cock as you pant hard, fogging up the mirror. Your body is hot and sweating even more than after rehearsal but you feel nothing but satisfaction as the tenseness in your body subsides and you come down from your high.

Behind you, Chan slips out of you quickly, just barely being able to pull out before he spills all over your back. He milks his cock for longer than you expect, but then again he is still quite young. Chan’s groans taper off and he finally gets a moment to catch his breath.

You feel completely refreshed from how you felt at the end of rehearsal, your body untensed and your horniness satiated.

“Fuck, I really needed that,” you say as Chan grabs a tissue from the corner of the room and wipes your back off. “Thanks, kid.”

“Thank me? Thank YOU!” Chan says as you start to dress yourself. “That was literally a dream. I feel like my life is fulfilled.”

You chuckle at the boy’s words. “You say that like you’re not starring in a musical right now.”

“I mean yeah, but this was totally different. I wasn’t lying, I think you’re amazing. I’m lucky to even be in a show with you. I really have looked up to you since I was younger.” Chan stares at you sincerely as he talks and you try to not show how flustered it’s making you.

“Well I’m glad that I helped make your dream come true…maybe I can also help some fantasies come true as well.” You send Chan a wink as you saunter across the room to your bag.

You can hear Chan sputter a bit as you bend over (a bit exaggeratedly) to pick up your things. “Wait- does that mean what I think?”

You turn around and smile softly at the boy. “See you Monday, Chan.”

With that you turn your back to him and exit the dance studio, leaving the boy red in the face and stammering. Oh you’re going to have some fun with him.

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