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getosbigballsack · 5 months

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𝑳𝒆𝒕 𝑴𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝐶𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑒 𝑆𝑡𝑢𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜 𝑋 𝑀𝐼𝐿𝐹 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝑆𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠: 𝐻𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑜𝑛. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑦𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑒 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑢𝑝 𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑦. 𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑎𝑡 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑠𝑡, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑎 𝑔𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒. 𝑁𝑜𝑤 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑚 𝑡𝑜 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒 ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑓 ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑜?

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑤𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑒𝑥, 𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑘, 𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑏𝑖𝑔 𝑑𝑖𝑐𝑘, 𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠, 𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑙 𝑠𝑒𝑥, 𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜 𝑖𝑠 𝑎 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑘𝑦 𝑏𝑜𝑦, 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑝𝑒𝑡 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠 (𝑀𝑎𝑚𝑎) 𝑒𝑡𝑐

𝐴/𝑁: ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑦𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑠. 𝐼 ��𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑒𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑦 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡.

𝑊𝐶: 9808

✯𝐺𝑜𝑗𝑜 𝑆𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑢'𝑠 𝑃𝑙𝑎𝑦 𝑃𝑒𝑛

𝐸𝑛𝑗𝑜𝑦❤︎

To think that the young master Gojo would stay true to his words when he promised you that he would visit you in the night to have dinner and spend what he called “quality time” with you and your son.

Guys around his age were mostly talk and not action. Always making big promises that they knew weren't able to fulfil, but Gojo? Nope you underestimated him, deeply so too.

Hence the reason you stood stiff at your door entrance, gazing at the young 21 year old who had a huge grin on his face, a bag in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. He's really here, and neatly dressed too in a black turtleneck sweater, grey slacks and black boots to match. To top off his looks, he had his signature dark glasses resting at the top of his white head of white pillowy hair.

Just then you became very conscious of your attire. Plain black shorts and a pink crop top that had your nipples poking through the milk stain on your top.

You felt ashamed, appearing to the young man in such a state, you almost slammed the door in his face to go change, but the sound of his voice brought you back to reality.

“Mrs. Hiroshima, aren't you gonna let me in? I brought dinner, just like I promised,” he said as he held up the bag that you now saw that was filled with dishes of food.

“Uhm… yeah sure come in,” you said, stepping away from the doorway and allowing him to step inside your husband’s home. You locked the door before moving towards the kitchen where you had your baby babbling away with his pacifier in his mouth in his high chair around the kitchen counter.

“You have a lovely house Mrs. Hiroshima,” Gojo complimented as he rested the bag on the counter and went towards your baby to tickle underneath his chin, “Hey baby Kaori, you're so cute.”

Kaori giggled, stretching his arms out to Gojo as he continued to tickle underneath his chin. A smile crept upon your face, but quickly faded when you remembered the reason Gojo was here.

Earlier, he came up to you once again after your husband rudely disrespected you in front of his colleagues. Gojo came up to you with a drink you never ordered and placed it in front of you and rested a hand on your shoulder.

“Your husband doesn't deserve you Mrs. Hiroshima,” he whispered, his tall lanky body leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “I can treat you better than your husband can. I can show you a good time. I can treat you like how you deserve to be treated. If you let me, I will take care of you and your son.”

Confused, you turn your head slightly to see him already looking at you, eyes half lidded, lips between his teeth as he waits for a response from you. But none came, you were too baffled to even respond, so then he licked his lips and whispered once more, “Hm, how about we have dinner at your place tonight. Me, you and baby Kaori. Think of it as quality time. I'm sure you'd like that. I'll drop by at 7 tonight.”

With that said he pressed a kiss against your cheek before leaving to attend to the rest of the customers inside the cafe that was previously owned by his father but now, under his name.

“Uhm Gojo?” You called out to him and he slowly turned around to face you with a smile gracing his lips. “Uhm what are you…”

“Oh my bad, I bought you flowers. I hope you're not allergic to them,” he said, cutting you in the middle of your sentence while standing straight and handing over the flowers to you. You muttered a quiet thanks as you took them from him.

They were beautiful, and they smelled wonderful too. “I wasn't sure if you'd like roses that much or maybe you'd think I was being too cliché so I chose something different.”

You smiled, a bit thoughtful of him, you thought as you to another whiff of the flowers before turning around to go find a vase to put them in. Meanwhile Gojo began to unpack the food from the bag, resting each on the kitchen counter before walking towards you and resting a hand on your hip.

You startled to say the least, almost dropping the flowers on the countertop as you turned slightly to look at him. “Uhm… Gojo.”

Once again he stopped you from saying what he knew what you were about to say and said, “The dishes, where are they? We don't want the food to get cold now.”

You sighed heavily, but still he was right. He prepared all this meal, might as well have some before pointing him towards the front door. It was wrong of you to entertain a man inside your husband’s house, dressed in skimpy clothes at that too. But you see nothing wrong with having a home cooked meal. It’s been a while since you had something warm, too busy being a mom to even cook for yourself.

“They’re right above your head, Gojo-kun,” you said pointing towards the cabinet before you. He smiled, hand reaching above you to grab two dishes.

“I made a lot of food, I wasn’t sure what you would like, so I went with the safest option. Fried chicken, white rice with egg rolls and curried vegetables.”

“Sounds delicious,” you said, while grabbing the flower vase, filling it with water and placing the flowers in before walking over to the kitchen island where you saw Gojo plating you a presentable looking meal. “Oh, wow.”

“Eat up,” he said as he placed the dish in front of you and handed you the fork he used to plate your meal. You wasted no time, feeling your tummy rumble a bit and took a bite of the curry vegetables. Gojo watched, eyes grinning when he saw your eyes light up with excitement as you took another bite of the curry vegetable. “Do you like it, Mrs. Hiroshima?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, taking another bite of the curry veggies. “I’ve never had curry vegetables before. This actually tastes really good.”

He smiled, “I need to thank my mom for the recipe the next time I see her.” You chuckled and continued on eating while Gojo sat closely to you with his plate filled with food as well. You watched closely as Gojo hummed as he dug into the curry vegetable. You never missed how the tip of his brow arched slightly as he chewed away on his food. “Oh, I should make this more often.”

“You should,” you added and he chuckled in response.

You both sat in silence for a while, but not without sneaking glances at each other until Gojo decided to speak up, “So Mrs. Hiroshima, I heard that you were once the valedictorian at my university.”

Your eyes perched up a bit, “You’re attending UT? I mean the university of Tokyo?”

He nodded his head, “Mhm!”

“What Major?” you asked while resting your arm on the table and glanced over at Kaori who was still babbling away with his pacifier.

“I’m a double major actually. I’m majoring in both economics and finance,” he said before biting into the fried chicken.

“Wow impressive Gojo-kun, never knew you were that smart,” you commented.

He shrugged, “Never really had much of a choice. I didn’t want to choose, so I did them both.”

“I understand. And to answer your question from before, yes I was the valedictorian of my graduating class,” you said smiling at him.

“I hope to graduate as valedictorian for my class, but my best friend Suguru isn’t going down without a fight you see. He beat me last semester by 0.01%. He had a 4.50 gpa and I had a 4.49 gpa.”

You laughed as he continued to mumble about how he cried and his best friend laughed at him when the results came out.

“It’s not even funny Mrs. Hiroshima, if only I got that 1% that I need on that exam then maybe we both would’ve been tied last semester. But nonetheless, though I was upset with him, I felt happy for him regardless, it’s good to have a friend like him. He’s always pushing me to be the better version of myself and I’m doing the same for him.”

“That’s lovely…” your sentence was cut short by the sound of Kaori’s whimpering. You looked over at him to see that he was getting a bit fussy. Ah yes, it’s his bedtime. You quickly hopped out of your seat, resting your fork in your dish that still had a bit of food left in it. You gently took your baby out of his high chair, went back to sit beside Gojo and without even thinking, you lifted your crop top exposing your swollen breast to Gojo just before putting your baby onto your breast. “I’m sorry about that Gojo-Kun. As I was saying, it's lovely to have friends that want the best for you in life.”

Your head turned slightly to look over at Gojo, hoping that he’d respond to you, but when you looked at him, you saw his head resting on the kitchen island, the side of his cheek that was visible and the tip of his ear was bright pink. “Gojo-Kun?”

He cleared his throat, trying to get his thoughts together after what he just witnessed. He is no stranger to naked women, having seen his fair share of breasts of all different sizes and manners there is no reason for him to get this flustered at the sight of another set of women’s tits. But you, the moment you absentmindedly exposed your breast, his cheeks turned bright pink, heart hammering rapidly against his chest. He had to quickly hide his face, out of respect to you being a mother, and also to silence the perverted thoughts of you that plagued his mind for many nights before.

Fuck… fuck… fuck he hissed. Who would’ve thought that a woman’s lactating breast would’ve turned him on just as much as yours did. “My apologies,” he said, swallowing the ball in his throat as he lifted his head to look at you, trying his hardest to keep his eyes on your face and his cock from getting any harder than it already is. Not yet Satoru… In due time he reminded himself as he cleared his throat yet again. “I accidentally choked on a bit of rice.” He lied.

“There’s a bottle of orange juice in the fridge. Help yourself to some, it’ll help clear your throat a bit better.”

“Thank you,” he said as he removed himself from the kitchen island, walked over to the cabinet and grabbed two glasses to pour the orange juice in and once he was through with his task, he sat beside you once more, thanking you for the juice yet again before taking a sip. “What were we talking about again?”

“Ah! I was saying that you’re lucky enough to have a friend like Geto. It’s nice to see friends supporting each other,” you repeated.

“Right, right and speaking of the bastard, he is majoring in your department,” Gojo said to you.

“Oh really, and what’s his major?”

“Information and communication engineering and a minor in applied physics,” Gojo replied.

“That’s awesome, good for you boys,” you complimented. For the remainder of the meal, you and Gojo continued on with the conversation. Gojo did most of the talking though, because he was trying to hide the fact he had a semi-boner hiding underneath the table.

…

It was 9 pm, Kaori was already in his crib sleeping, you were currently mopping the kitchen and the dishes from earlier were currently being taken care of by Gojo even though you told him that he didn’t have to do it. But he insisted because he was the one who brought dinner to your house, so it was right for him to do the dishes.

“I'm done Mrs. Hiroshima,” Gojo said as he wiped his hands on the dish cloth that you gave to him before neatly folding it and hanging it from the stove handle and then leaned his lower back against the kitchen counter.

“Thank you,” you said, smiling at him.

He waved his hand at you and responded, “It's the least I can do.” It was silent for a while, Gojo’s eyes never leaving your frame, studying how you gently wiped the kitchen island top and cleaned up Kaori’s high-chair, until he spoke up, “So did you enjoy tonight?”

You shook your head, “It’s been a while since I had a home cooked meal and I thank you for that. It was very warm and pleasing to my tummy.” After you were through with cleaning Kaori’s high chair, you went to dispose of the paper towel you use to clean and rest the mop back into the small cleaning closet inside the kitchen. “Plus it's been a while since someone took the time out of their day to remember that I exist. So really Gojo-Kun, thank you. Your presence meant a lot to me.”

“Can I add a bit more to that meaning?” he asked while biting his bottom lip.

“What do you mean?” You asked him.

He used his hand to push himself away from the kitchen counter and slowly made his way towards you. “You said that my presence here meant a lot to you, so I was hoping to add more to that. You know I could stay the night and we could watch a movie, cuddle and talk about anything you like.”

Your eyes almost rolled out of its sockets the moment Gojo mentioned ‘stay the night’. He knew that you're married and he also knew that it was inappropriate of him to even think about spending the night here at your husband's house. No matter how tempting his offer to watch a movie and cuddle sounded, you're married and despite the fact that your husband wasn't loyal to you, it doesn't mean that had to do the same.

“As thoughtful as that may sound, I don't think that's a good idea Gojo-Kun.”

“Why not?” He asked as he inched closer to you and once his heel was touching yours, he was quick to cage you in-between his body and the counter.

You're baffled. Did he really just ask why you don't think it's a good idea. “Because Gojo, I'm a married woman.”

“And so? What does that have to do with anything?” he asked.

“Really, that means that I have a husband… and no matter what he does to me I’ll never betray him.”

“Your husband doesn’t even want you though,” he said, staring you dead in the eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“Im sorry,” he quickly apologised as soon as he realised what he had just said to you. You watched as his head bowed a little and he heaved a heavy sigh. “I meant every word though, about your husband not wanting you.”

You rolled your eyes, hands lifting up to push him away from, but his tall lanky body didn’t move an inch. You growled, “Then why apologise.”

“Because I don’t want you to hate me,” he whispered as he leaned his body forward and rested his forehead against yours. “I like you Y/N.” Time for him to drop the formalities and get a little bit serious. In this moment right here, he needed for you to understand that he wasn’t joking around when he said that he wanted to take care of you and your son.

“Gojo… Kun I don’t…”

“Sh!” he hushed you. “I don’t wanna hear about your husband, because he doesn’t deserve you.”

“Who are you to say that he doesn’t deserve me?” You asked.

He chuckled a bit as he responded, “Who am I? The question you should be asking me, Mrs Hiroshima, is what do I know?”

You bit your lip and tried to push him away once again, but he just wouldn't move.

“Why are you trying to push me away?” He whispered.

You swallowed thickly. “You're being inappropriate Gojo-Kun.”

“How? By telling you the truth?” He asked. Your lips twitched a bit, feeling a bit irritated by his lack of manners or let's say how blatantly disrespectful he was being when he spoke about your relationship with your husband, even though what he was saying to you was the truth.

You rolled your eyes and gave up on trying to push him away. You both stood for a while in silence, nothing but the sounds of your heavy breathing could be heard. “Mrs. Hiroshima?” Gojo called out to you, finally breaking the silence between you too, and also in hopes that it'll lighten the heavy tension that was now between the two of you.

“What, Gojo?” You answered him.

He sighed, “Aren't you tired of being disrespected by your husband constantly? Aren't you tired of hearing him say that you aren't good enough for him? Aren't you tired of seeing him neglect your son. Aren't you tired of being lonely?”

“What do you know?” You asked him this time and he smirked.

He then replied to you in a soft tone, “More than I should. I know about the bathroom hook ups inside the cafe, the amount of women he takes to the cafe on a daily basis after he's certain you're home then leave to fuck them in the parking lot. I know about the rude disrespectful words that he utters about you to my father Y/N.”

Your lips trembled as Gojo continued on with his statement.

“He says that you’re a useless woman. He said he’s embarrassed to have you around and to call you his wife, all because you decided not to abort your baby. Oh… yeah he even told my father that he refuses to have intercourse with you because you’re now damaged goods.”

“Shut up! I don’t wanna hear anymore of this,” you yelled out, hot tears pricking the corner of your eyes. Gojo said nothing more, only watched as you hastily tried to rid yourself of the tears that you’re getting so tired of wasting on your good for nothing husband. You can’t believe a word that Gojo was uttering out of his mouth. You knew how he felt about you ever since you decided to give birth to Kaori, but to hear him describe you as damaged goods. Oh he’s done it now.

You’re crying now, your hands moving to cover up your face to hide the tears from Gojo’s eyes. But he wasn’t having it, so he pulled your hand away from your face and used his hand to wipe your tears before caressing your cheeks. He hated to see you cry, he was getting a bit tired of seeing your tears even though at this very moment, he was sort of the reason you had tears in your eyes.

“Y/N,” he whispered your name as he continued to caress your cheeks. “I'm sorry, for making you cry like this. It wasn't my intention to do so, but still you need to know that it's not worth being faithful to that scum you call husband Y/N.”

“Gojo-Kun…” you called to him, but he shook his head no, placed a finger on your lips to silence you.

“Y/N, your husband, he doesn't deserve you. You're too good for him. How dare he call you damaged goods. He should be praising you, worshipping you for bringing such a precious life into this world. You know how many men would kill to have a wife like you. And there he goes, wasting his time and other things and neglecting his own wife.”

You swallowed thickly while batting your lashes at Gojo. Your heart felt heavy hammering against your chest as Gojo continued to praise you, congratulating you for being the best mother you could be for your young baby, Kaori. No one has ever praised you for your efforts.

“Y/N, you deserve better than that old scum. You deserve someone who recognizes your worth and who's willing to treat you like the strong, beautiful woman you are. You need a man who's willing to treat you like you deserve to be treated, a man who is going to take care of you and your son,” he said as he licked his lips and leaned his face forward a bit. “I want to be that someone for you Y/N, I want to be that man for you.”

“Go… Gojo? I…”

“Just think about Y/N. All the fun you and I can have together. All the memories you'll be able to create with Kaori and myself. I might still be a college student but I got money, enough to take care of you and your son financially. I can cook, I'm fun to be around Y/N, and if that's not enough, just the simple fact that I like you should be enough for you to think about giving me a chance to prove to you that I can be the man you need.”

“You're… your words are sweet Gojo-Kun but I… I don't…” and before you were able to complete the sentence, Gojo shuts you up with a peck on your lips. You stared at him with wide eyes, in pure shock having just felt his lips against yours.

“Hey mama… listen to me,” Gojo said, snapping you out of your trance. “I can promise you three things, mama. I can take care of you and your son, I can show you a good time and I got a big dick,” he whispered the last bit of his sentence while staring you dead in the eyes.

“G… Gojo,” you stuttered, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Did he really just say that he had a big dick? Your brain was trying to figure out if he actually said that, but what he said next is all the confirmation that you need.

“If you let me stay the night, I'll fulfil two of my promises to you. So how about it mama, is 8.5 big enough for you?”

“That's enough… Gojo-Kun,” you stuttered. Your body was feeling a bit too hot. Did his words have that much affect on you or are you just too lonely and touch deprived?

“Think about it Mrs. Hiroshima. Let me stay with you tonight,” he whispered before leaning down to peck your lips once more. “I promise it'll be fun for the both of us. Especially for you.”

You're conflicted now, not knowing what to say to him. Not knowing if his promises held any truth to them. You're wondering if he really liked you? Why you? You're married and have a baby so why waste such precious time on you?

You bit your lips while staring at his lips, tempted to lean in once more to feel his soft lips against yours, but at the same time you wanted to bite them then remind him that no matter what you'll remain loyal to your husband.

But is it worth it? Is your loyalty to your husband worth it? What sense does it make to stay loyal to someone who basically called you damaged goods, when there's a perfectly healthy man standing before you offering to give you a good time and what you're assuming to be good sex?

Is it all worth it? Is it worth betraying your husband and for sex? Maybe, you're not sure. You're conflicted.

Gojo realized that, how the muscles in your face twitched, curved and bend with whatever facial expression on your face.

You teeth gnawing on your lips, so deep in thoughts you didn't even take notice of Gojo’s slight movement until you felt his hand grazing your bottom, “You're thinking too hard about this Y/N. Come on, let's go upstairs. Please.”

“Go… Gojo-Kun.”

“Please!” He whispered before tilting his head to the side to kiss your lips for the third time, but this time a bit longer than before. It wasn't a peck, but it wasn't a full blown kiss either, he was teasing you, tempting you to kiss him back. “Kiss me back!” He whispered with his lips still. “Please! Kiss me back!” He begged once more before you finally gave in, closing your eyes and slowly moving your lips against his.

Your toes curled, hands quickly grabbing onto the fabric of his sweater, bunching the cotton material between your hands. The hand that grazed your bottom moved up further to grab a handful of your ass cheeks which caused you to moan a bit against his lips, before moving to rest itself against your hips while his other hand went to cup your hot cheek.

Who knew that kissing could feel great? Maybe it's because it's been a while since you last felt someone's lips against yours. But still it felt as though he was drawing every last breath from your body until there was nothing left. “Y/N,” he whispered your name against your lips. “Let's go upstairs.”

He pecked your lips a couple of times before you pulled away to look at him. Once again you asked yourself. Is your loyalty to your husband worth breaking to have sex with Gojo?

It may not be, but what's the harm? So you say fuck it to yourself before answering him, “I need to shower first.”

A smile stretched itself across his face as he pulled away from you entirely, grabbed hold of your hand and led you towards the front door. “Let me grab my bag and something else from my car. I too feel the need to freshen up.”

“Ok,” you mumbled, shaking your head before releasing his hand and watched as he pulled his car key from his slacks, opened up your front door and quickly went towards his car to grab what he needed. A few short minutes later he returned with a bag slung over his shoulder and a small box of large condoms.

He came prepared. It's like he was expecting you to say yes.

“Let's go.”

…

It's been about fifteen minutes since you agreed to have sex with Gojo. And now you're stepping out the bathroom in a white half silk half mesh lingerie dress that was gifted to you just last week. You had no intention of wearing it, you had no reason to wear it before.

But now as you walked further into the bedroom to see Gojo sitting on the windowsill with a phone in his hand while the other one gripped his cock over his grey sweater pants and a loose t-shirt he wore resting comfortably on his well defined abs, you thought that wearing this was the right decision.

He didn’t hear you come in nor did he see you walking over to him until he felt your feet touching his. He quickly looked up, mouth almost dropping open when he saw you standing before him. That lingerie you did nothing to shield your body from him. He could see everything, from the curves of your breasts, the fat and thickness of your nipples, to the softness of your tummy, the dips in your luscious thighs and that white lacy panty that you had underneath your lingerie dress.

He licked his lips while he powered off his phone and tossed it on the bed, then slowly, his hands went to wrap around your waist pulling you closer until your chest was pressing against his. He wasted no time removing his hands from your waist to grab your ass, biting his lips as he gazed into your eyes. “Kaori isn’t gonna wake up anytime soon is he?” he asked you.

“No… I don’t think so,” you answered as you shyly turned your eyes away from his. His gaze was a bit too intense for you, it made you feel small like a prey waiting to be devoured up by its predator.

“Good,” he whispered before lifting you up, wrapped your legs around his waist and walked towards the bed with you desperately clinging onto his shoulders. The next thing you know, you’re being tossed on the bed with his hands on your thighs spreading your legs so that he can kneel between them. His breathing was heavy, you could feel his hot breath against your face as he leaned forward to level his head with yours. Gojo could feel his heart racing against his chest as he stared down at you. Eyes taking in the sight of your smooth silky skin, the pure look of innocence on your face down to the supple of your neck. His eyes lingered for a while as he moved down to stare at your cleavage, your plump lactating breast just waiting, ready, fat nipples moist with your milk for him to suck.

And he just couldn't wait much longer, his left hand moving from your thighs to grip the thin strap of your lingerie dress and pulling the strap from your shoulder slowly until your left breast was exposed to him. He licked his lips and whispered, “You flashed me earlier this evening, I had to hold myself back from devouring your tits right then and there mama. You know, I’ve alway wondered what breast milk tasted like, care to give me a taste?”

You nodded yes and shyly twisted your mouth to the side, your doe like eyes staring up at his waiting for him to do as he pleased with your body. It’s been a while since you last felt the warm touch of a man and your eager body just needed him to do whatever he pleased with you.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered before planting his lips against yours, slowly kissing and caressing your lips with his tongue as though he was your lover. You tasted sweet, like a warm homemade vanilla cream pie, he could kiss your lips all day if you allowed him.

As you both continued to share a sweet intimate kiss, his right hand moved from your thigh to pull the other strap down your arms to fully reveal your breast to him. He gently squeezed your boobs as he pulled away from your lips and began to trail wet butterflies kisses along your jawline, neck and down to the valley of your boobs. You gasped at the feeling of his lips kissing the flesh of your tits, hissing when he wrapped his hot wet tongue around your aching nipple and sucked harshly to taste what he’s been dying to have in his mouth.

The boy groaned, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he tasted your sweet milk against his tongue. His taste buds danced with excitement, cock hardened even more beneath his confines and he couldn’t help but to brush it up against the now dampen crotch of your lacy panty. You gasped yet again, back arching slightly to shove more of your breast in his mouth. Your dainty fingers found purchase in his hair, gently gripping onto the roots as he continued his ministrations on your left nipple.

Soon enough he pulled away from your left nipple, not wasting another second he quickly latched his lips onto the other aching nipple and used his left hand to fondle your left boob while his free hand made quick work of your lacy panty underneath your lingerie dress. The sound of his lips sucking the milk from your breast made heat and goosebump rose against your skin. It’s embarrassing, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t turning you on even more.

“Fuck! Taste so fucking good mama,” Gojo groaned as he released your nipple with a pop to focus on getting rid of your panties entirely. Once it was out of the way, Gojo leaned down to kiss your breast once more then whispered, “I bet it’ll taste a bit better on your cunt,” before sucking more of your breast milk in his mouth as his hand bunch the dress around your waist.

You watched with you lips between your teeth as he pulled away from you tits, his hand on your thighs and before you could even register what he was to do, he already spread your legs a bit wider and he was on his tummy, face to face with your dripping and aching cunt.

“Gojo-Kun don’t… Ngh,” you tried to pull away once you realised what he was about to do, but it was a bit too late because Gojo held your thighs firmly to keep you from pulling away from him and he’s spitting the milk mixed with his saliva on your cunt. “No Gojo… don’t put your tongue… Ahh,” you screamed, feeling his hot tongue laying flat against cunt, licking and slurping up the milk before swallowing.

“Mhm… fuck I knew it would taste so much better,” he mumbled before diving back in. Like a starved man, Gojo greedily sucked at your puffy swollen slick coated clit, dragging his tongue in between your parted pussy lips to lick whatever was left from what he spat out his mouth. You tasted delicious, like a sweet treat ready to rot his teeth. He knew from the moment he saw you all those months ago heavily pregnant with your now new born baby, that your cunt would be a mighty treat for him.

He dreamt about this many nights before and now that you gave him the opportunity, he was going to make it worth well. So with that goal in mind, Gojo’s hands moved from thighs to grab your ass cheeks to spread your pussy out a bit more. He lifted his head from your cunt, spat on it and watched with glistening eyes as his saliva dribbled down the crack of your ass. He couldn’t help himself much longer, using his tongue to lick between your butt cheek, his tongue playing with your butthole a bit before going back to suck on your clit.

Did he just licked your ass? “Did you just licked my butthole?” you asked in complete and utter shock.

“Mhm!” He hummed against you. “And I’ll lick it again.”

You could not believe what was happening to you at this very moment. No man dared to tongue your booty hole, much less suck on your cunt and even if they did, none of them were as good as Gojo. He knew what he was doing with that wicked tongue of his, flicking and thrusting in and out of your sloppy wet hole.

Your eyes widened in surprise, unable to say much or even moan, you gripped his arms that held your ass cheek apart, lifted your body to watch as his mouth sinfully and skillfully worked your clit. He felt your gaze on him and he darted his eyes upwards to take in the sight of your face contorting with pleasure, your eyes rapidly fluttering, trying your hardest to keep your eyes on him.

“Mhmm… It feels weird,” your cried out. Gojo chuckled against your cunt before closing his eyes and began french kissing your pussy, his soft lips making out with your lower lips, slowly moving against them in such a sweet erotic rhythm. A sheer heat began to rise in your tummy, your thighs began trembling against his head and your breathing increased.

You body felt hot, extremely hot as a matter of fact you felt like you were about to piss on yourself, so you tried to pull away from him. But the greedy boy held you down, even when you cried and begged him to release you just so that you could hurriedly use the bathroom. Gojo wasn’t hearing any of that, instead he mumbled against your throbbing pulsing pussy, “Piss on me, I don’t care. ‘M not moving.”

And he meant it. He gripped your ass harder, his nose bumping your clit and his tongue buried deep inside your pussy, slurping and licking every drop of your pussy juice. The heat in your tummy began to rise even more, legs now violently shaking against his face and that heavy pressure that you feel inside you felt like it was moment away from bursting if Gojo doesn’t let up on your pussy.

You began breathing heavily, hands gripping tightly onto sheets as he continued to eat. Your back fell flat against the mattress unable to sit straight for much longer. “Nganh Gojo…” you cried, feeling the intense heat and pressure growing hotter and too heavy for you to handle. “Bathroom, bathroom pleaseeee…” But he still wouldn’t let up, he only continued the assault his tongue had in your hole. “Nghh, Nght…” and you cried, unable to hold it in for much longer, you squirt all over Gojo’s face, back lurching from the bed as the fountain of water spewed from your pussy.

Unbelievable, you’re pissing (not really it was squirt, but you never knew that because you’ve never squirted before), on Gojo face unable to stop the rush of liquid spewing from your pussy and when you thought you were done, Gojo had the audacity to bring his thumb to your clit, flicking the nub until your burst all over him yet again.

“Mama’s a squirter,” he beamed in excitement when you finally came down from your high. He removed himself from your cunt to kiss your lips before hopping off the bed to grab the box of condoms and removed his clothes.

You’re a bit embarrassed after what just happened, but that didn’t stop you from watching as he tore open the box of condoms, pulling three foils attached to each other from the box. “You think we could use all three tonight?” He teased as he ripped one of the foils and put it in his mouth and then tossed the last two on the bed.

You said nothing, only continued to stare at him as he began to run his hand up and down his abs from underneath his shirt, teasing you a bit until he gripped the end and yanked the shirt over his head and tossed it aside.

He’s slim and toned, it was as if God took his time to carefully sculpt his body to perfection. Every muscle and veins were positioned perfectly, in the most pleasing shape and design. His jawline was perfectly sculptured, his straight collar bone fitted nicely with his broad and sharp shoulders. His pectoral and sharply defined abdomen were perfect. A few beauty marks decorated his pale and smooth skin, Gojo was the definition of a perfect man.

“Liking what you see mama?” Gojo teasing asked and you quickly turned your head to hide the shameful look on your face. How dare you ogle at another man’s body inside the room you used to share with your husband. “I don’t mean to tease. Please look at me.”

And you did. You turned around just in time to see him gripping his heavy cock over his sweatpant, lightly palming his member to get it a bit more erect than it already was. Your mouth watered a bit from the sight, desperate to see what he’s hiding inside his sweatpants. “You think you can handle this mama?” he asked while moving his hand away from his cock to grip the waist of his sweatpants.

Slowly, he began to pull the waistband down and over his erect penis. Your eyes popped out of their sockets, unable to stare much longer, you quickly turned over on your tummy and buried your face into your pillow. His cock was like a weapon, made to destroy any pussy it came in contact with. Is it not heavy? Why was it so big? So many questions running through your mind, you didn’t even hear him call your name, nor did you see him tear open the foil with his teeth and roll the condom down his length. That’s until you felt his hands caressing your backside.

“Y/N,” he whispered as he climbed up on the bed to press a kiss on your shoulder blade. “Turn around please, I wanna look at you when I put my cock in you.” You shook your head no. “Why not?” he asked. He waited for a while and made himself busy by leaving lingering kisses on your shoulder blades and down your spine. When you didn’t respond he muttered, “Mama, turn around please.”

“Just do it this way.”

“But I wanna see your face.”

“No!”

He huffed and laughed, then he whispered, “Ok! Well I guess we’ll be using all three condoms tonight, because I won’t stop until I can see your face.” And that's all he said before lifting his body from above yours, climbed off the bed, grabbed your legs and pulled them until they were dangling from the bed. “Ass up.”

With his help, you lifted your lower half from the bed, your face still buried inside the pillow that managed to drag along with you when Gojo pulled at your legs. “That’s it,” he said and rested both hands on your ass. He began to smooth his hand over your globes, only stopping to fully remove the last article of clothing that was on your body. “You ready mama?” he asked you.

“Yes!” you mumbled against the pillow. He lets out a low, thinking that you looked so cute, hiding your face from him. He rubbed his hand over your ass once, lightly tapping your booty cheek before spreading your cheeks apart to spit on your dripping, glistening pussy. He grabbed his cock and dragged the tip up and down your quivering hole. You gasped feeling the bulbous tip poked at your entrance. “Gojo-Kun?”

“Sh… only getting your ready mama,” he said as he pressed his cock against your entrance once more. He rested his hand in the middle of your back, pressing your cheek even further into the bed, lifted his leg from the floor and rested on knee on the bed. He needed to get the perfect angle to ensure that you felt him in the deepest parts of your pussy. He tapped his cock on your pussy a few more times then whispered, “I’m going in.”

You gasped, eyes squeezing tightly when you felt his cock, slowly but surely bullying it way past your entrance. “Fucking hell,” Gojo moaned out. He squeezed his eyes shut too, teeth biting harshly at his lip at the feeling of your pussy clenching and pulsing around his cock. “Fuck mama, you’re squeezing me, you have to relax.”

Relax, he said, but you didn’t know how. It's been a while since you last had sex, plus you didn’t have problems like this before. Your husband’s cock is not even half the size of Gojo’s.

“Come on mama, you have got to relax, Don’t you wanna feel good?” he asked as he slowly dragged his cock out of you, then thrust back in slowly to see how your pussy painfully stretched around his thick girthy cock.

“It’s too big,” you cried into the pillows.

“I know,” he groaned. He pulled out once more, tilting his head down to spit on your pussy yet again before sliding back in, pressing his cock deeper inside your pussy until his pelvis was right up against your ass.

His hips slowly began to roll, his cock working in and out of your wet tight hole. You moaned into the pillow, finger clutching the sheets tight as you tried to keep your ass up and your back perfectly arched. You could feel him, every inch of his cock working the walls of your pussy. He was deep inside your pussy and you loved the feeling.

Gojo groaned, eyes trained to where you are both connected and he couldn’t help but smack his hand against your plush ass, eliciting a scream from the back of your throat. “Not so loud mama, you don’t wanna wake up Kaori now,” he teased before smacking his hand against your ass yet again. He grabbed the burning flesh, massaging it in his hot hands while his other hand to steady your now moving hips.

“Keep still,” he said as he rested his other knee on bed to get an even better angle to fuck you.

“But… It - hah… ugh mhm,” you moaned, feeling his cock poking at you g-spot with each thrust of his hips. He smacked you a third time spreading your buttcheek to spit on your cute little butt. You hissed, feeling the hot liquid run down the crack of your ass and the sudden feeling of his thumb gently rubbing the entrance.

“You like that, mama?” he asked as he continued to play with your entrance all while making love to your hole with his cock. In response to his question, you pushed your hip against his yet again to meet his every thrust. “Thought I told you to keep still mama,” he groaned. How could you keep still? His thick long cock was penetrating you in deep and slow strokes, so deep that you had to bite the pillow to prevent yourself from screaming out. Your son was sleeping in the next room and the walls weren’t soundproof so no matter how overwhelming and pleasurable the feeling was for you.

Gojo grinned at your cute attempts to throw your ass against him. He could tell how inexperienced you were by the small hesitate movement of your hips. But it’s understandable, your husband didn’t do much to help experience the true intense pleasure you gain from having sex. He felt a sense of responsibility to give you the pleasure that you deserved. “Gonna put my thumb in your ass since you won’t look at me, think you can take it?” he asked and before you could even attempt to respond, his thumb was already slipping past the tight rings of your ass.

“Oh God,” you moaned out, moving one hand from the pillow in search of his, only for your wrist to be grabbed and held down against your back. He picked up a bit of speed, but slow enough it had your body shuddering. You could feel it, your pussy juices leaking around his cock, and slowly running down on the inside of your thighs. Such a lewd sight, for Gojo and Gojo eyes only.

“You’re so fucking wet mama,” Gojo commented as he listened to sounds your wet pussy welcoming his cock with each thrust. His thumb was still resting comfortably in your ass, and though he had not once moved his thumb, you were feeling so good, too good to the point where you felt like you were no longer in control of your own body.

To think that you once thought that the purpose of sex was solely for the pleasure of your husband and procreation yet still here you are experiencing mind blowing sex with Gojo Satoru. Though you felt a tad bit guilty for cheating on your cheating husband, this felt so right and you’re happy that you made the decision to have sex with Gojo.

“Ready to turn around and look at me mama?” Gojo asked.

“No…” you stuttered through your moans. He breathed heavily, quickly pulling his thumb from your ass and released your wrist before bending over you, his chest pressing against your back and his cock sliding even further into your cunt.

“Nghh oh God, no no too deep,” you cried. Gojo paid you no mind, he only rested both hands at either side of your head and continued to penetrate you deeply from this angle.

Gojo, he rested his forehead against your back, listening to your sweet moans. He chuckled at how much you're trying to get away from his thrust while keeping your face hidden from him. It was honestly cute, but how long will you be able to hold on out, after all as much as how he's feeling good, feeling as though heaven came to take him even was no close to coming anytime soon.

But you, with how much your pussy was clenching and dripping around his cock, it was only a matter of time before you came. “Mama,” he mumbled as he pressed a kiss on your back and nibbled in your soft skin.

Your tears began soaking the pillow, drool leaking from the corner of your mouth, once again your whole body felt hot and mad with pleasure.

“Y/N,” Gojo grunted as he pressed against you even more, and somehow you still managed to keep that arch in your back. You could feel him, his cock all up and way up in your guts, repeatedly bullying its way in and out of your hole, rearranging and shaping your pussy to fit around his shaft.

His penis was bruising your g-spot with every thrust of his hips. “Look at me,” he whispered against your skin before moving his head to the side to get a better look on your face. But you're stubborn, quickly shoving your face into the pillows.

“No… don't wanna mhm… ugh don't wanna look.”

A bit of your cheek was exposed to him, so he leaned over a bit more to kiss the sweaty skin of your cheek. “But I wanna kiss you,” he huffed as he slowly pulled out of you leaving just the tip in, before slamming into you again, forcing your head to rise and fall back against his shoulder.

“Ugh… ahh fuck fuck,” you screamed. Gojo only caught a glimpse of your fucked out expression before your face once again made contact with the pillow.

You wanna play hard, well then fine! Gojo said to himself as he fucked you harder and deeper than his was before, slowly and calculated thrust slap against the surface of your ass.

The bed creaked, headboard slamming against the walls in your room, for a moment your mind raced to your son, thinking that at any moment due to the amount of sounds that were being made he was going to wake up. But that thought was overcome by pleasure and the sounds of your muffled hiccups and cries.

With every thrust of his hips, he was knocking the last bit of wind from your body. He was pushing closer and closer to your climax. He groaned each time your pussy clenched around him, you're dripping soaking the bed sheets with your juices. “I'm gonna make you cum,” he said as he slowed his thrust and wrapped his arms around your body.

Next thing you know you're lying on your side with Gojo’s body pressed tightly against yours, your left foot in his hand, your right breast being fondled by his other hand and his face in the nape of your neck.

He began to roughly pound his cock inside your pussy, fingers pinching and squeezing your nipples. “No choice but to look at me now mama!” He said as he removed his head from your neck to take in the look on your face.

And God you're beautiful, with your eyes blown out wide. Lips swollen and red and your hair messing sticky to your face. You're embarrassed, you didn't want him to see you like this, but you couldn't turn your head away, not when he gazed at you so intently, satisfied with how much a beautiful mess you were right now.

He dropped your legs on top of his and moved his fingers down towards your puffy clit. You could feel the muscle in your thighs quivering, your pussy desperately sucking and spasming around his cock.

Your body trembled in ecstacy, eyes still locked with his as he continued to pound into you. He rubbed your clit harder, pain and pleasure sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You could feel it, the intense and uncomfortable pressure building up in your pussy. “Come on mama cum, for me, cum for me,” he whispered and finally kissed your lips, swallowing up your moans and cries when your body tensed, pussy forcefully pushing his cock hole moments before your body shook and squirted on the bed. His fingers kept rubbing at your clit, not slowing down for a minute, he was going to drain you until you had nothing left to give. As soon as you come down from your high gonna quickly slip out of you help you up against his body.

He was not done yet, after all you both still had two more condoms to use.

Later that night

You've been having sex with Gojo for maybe an hour and half. You’ve changed positions more than you could count and God knows that the amount of orgasms Gojo granted you was more than what your worthless husband has ever given to you.

You would be lying if you said that you weren’t feeling guilty. But the more you thought about it, the more you came to realise that maybe you actually needed to stop worrying about your worthless husband and focus on the one who currently had your nipple in his mouth. Sucking on your breast drinking every drop of milk as he slowly moved his cock in and out of you.

He was dead serious about using all three condoms. He was on the final one now. “Ugh… Gojo-Kun please… I’m tired.”

He pulled away from your breast to rest his forehead against yours and whispered, “Just one last time Y/N. Let’s make love one last time tonight. Ok?”

“Ok,” you whispered, connecting your lips with his and kissed him sweetly. He moaned against your lips, his cock still working the inside of your pussy with slow and deep thrust. His hand tightly squeezed onto the fat of your thighs to keep himself steady as he lost himself inside your cunt. He wish he could fuck you raw, feeling your wet pussy moving against the heated skin of his cock.

But not yet, things will happen in due time, so for now he is content with pressing his hip between your legs pushing his condom-covered cock deeper inside your cunt and feeling your walls trembling and hearing you gasping from fullness and the stretch.

Your arousal enabled him to thrust smoothly inside you, poking and brushing up against your sweet spot each time.

You trembled and whimpered against his lips and chokes on your moans, you fist his hair between your fingers. Gojo sighed against your lips and pushed inside of you deeper but still moving slowly. “Feeling good aren’t you mama?” he asked as he nipped on your swollen bottom lip.

“Mhm, so good Gojo-Kun!”

“Fuck… come on Y/N, call me Satoru when I’m balls deep inside of you,” he said, grunting when he felt the tight grip in his hair. He smirked, hearing you mumble his name against his lips. “Louder.”

“Satoru!” you whimpered.

“Fuck.” Goosebumps rose on your skin. He was slowly pounding into your pussy and moving his hips in tight circles, hitting all the sensitive points within your throbbing pussy. You pant and cling to his hair, his arms moving from your legs to hold onto your hips while the gentle thrusting of his cock made your pussy flood with your love juices. “Go… Satoru-Kun, I’m…”

“I know,” he replied even before you were unable to finish your sentence. He tilted his head down to see where you’re both joint together to witness the cream from a coat around his cock. “I’m getting close too, mama.” His hand moved away from your hip to slowly rub at your throbbing clit, pushing back to the swollen hood to tease it with index finger which caused your tummy to burn and his to buck against him. You sobbed out, lifting your hip to rock against his as he began to increase his hip movement while keeping a steady pace.

“Let it go mama. Let it all go,” he grunted through his gasp for breath, aroused and working inside you with those sweet gentle thrusts. You began to buck into his fingers, panting, gasping and threatening to come undone beneath him. You turned your face to rest your cheek on the pillow but the soft tone in his voice stopped you. “No, I want to see your beautiful face when you cum, mama.”

Your entire body rose from the bed, your tummy constricted as the slick sound of your arousal adhering to his cock filled the room. Your orgasm came on like a tidal wave, hitting you so hard that you felt yourself moaning and sobbed while your thigh trembled and your muscles spasmed.

He moaned above you, his cock quickly pushing deeper, whispering, “That’s it. Let it go mama, let it go.” Then he kissed your sweaty forehead. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Your moaned as your hand fell from his hair to scratch the skin on his back as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm and he chased his. The tiredness was finally catching up to you, your body was turning limp underneath him, you were just trying to hold on until he cums. It wasn’t long though before you felt him throbbing and twitching inside your pussy.

“Shit,” he whimpered against your forehead, pumping his cock into your pussy a bit faster. “Mama, I’m about to cum.” You could feel another orgasm coming down on you. You didn't know why but you were surely about to cum. You could feel his hips and back muscles flexed with every thrust.

“Mama… I ugh mhmm” he grunted as he released inside your pussy in the condom. One thing you learned about Gojo is that he’s very vocal when he nears his climax. It’s the sexiest thing to ever bless your ears. Your husband was never this vocal with you and honestly you found it to be a bit cute. He whimpered as he pumped his hips until all his cum filled up the condom he wore and then slowly pulled out of you.

“That’s three condoms,” he said and laughed before peppering your face with light kisses. It was silent for a while, until he decided to speak up. “Do you think I’m man enough for you? I fulfilled two of my promises to you, don’t you want me to do the same for the last promise that I made.”

As much as how you wanted to have that talk with him or maybe even consider that maybe his proposal wasn’t a bad one. He fucked your brains out and you’re too tired to have that conversation. “We’ll talk later ok.”

“Alright then, let's get you cleaned up then.”

𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔

@getosbigballsack 2024

1K notes · View notes

linopls · 7 months

Text

kinktober day seventeen

threesome 3racha x fem!reader warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, oral (fem receiving), unprotected p in v, so much praise, overstimulation 1.5k words

“god, you’re so pretty, y/n.”

“you’re so good for us.”

“baby, you’re doing so well.”

the praises kept pouring from their mouths. you could barely make out whose voice belonged to who. the only factual information you knew was that you were propped up against chan, your back against his front, and he had one of his muscular arms wrapped around your middle and his beautiful painted fingers were toying with your clit.

you knew jisung was lying on his stomach in front of you, tongue lapping at your hole like a starved man. his arms wrapped tightly around your thighs, preventing your hips from moving. every so often he would part from your core to leave small hickeys on your inner thighs.

you knew changbin was to your right, his lips attached to your neck and upper chest. you would moan every time his teeth would sink into your skin and you knew that for the next week you would have to wear turtlenecks. you could also see, vaguely and from the corner of your eye, changbin palming himself through his basketball shorts.

“still okay?” chan whispers into your left ear.

you nod. you were more than okay. when your loving boyfriend chan invited you over today, explicitly stating that hyunjin was out of the dorm, you knew the events that would be going down and you could hardly focus on the road on the drive over.

you had fooled around with jisung and changbin before, a year or two ago, prior to your relationship with chan. last week chan asked which of the three of them was best in bed and you replied:

“it’s been too long to even remember. my rankings would be biased and inaccurate.”

to which chan replied:

“let’s refresh your memory soon then.”

so now your current job is to be taking mental notes and presenting with a ranking when the event has finished. but you could hardly remember your own name, let alone who is favorable in bed. you would be astonished if you were fucked so stupid that you could remember the order in which they did you.

“good.” you can hear the cheesy smile in chan’s voice. “binnie, do you want to go first, since you were first in y/n.”

changbin erupts into laughter and even jisung chuckles into your pussy, the vibrations making you moan.

“of course,” changbin smiles, lifting his neck from the crook of your neck and placing one sweet kiss to your lips.

“jisung, move,” chan snaps, trying to pry jisung’s head away from your cunt with his free hand.

jisung looks up from your pussy panting. his eyes glossy and filled with lust, a look you haven’t seen in a year. he takes one more lick, from your dripping hole to just where chan’s fingers meet your clit.

“i’m sorry,” he says, out of breath. “she just tastes so good.”

“we know,” changbin and chan say in unison.

“you’re next, ji” chan says.

“yeah, it’s my turn,” changbin giggles, almost lifting up jisung and moving him to your left side.

changbin balances himself on his knees between your legs, his muscular thighs parting your legs so easily. he pulls his shorts down just far enough to free his cock from the restraints. the sight makes your mouth water. the sinful acts you will be indulging in with one of your past flings, while your boyfriend holds you so close makes your brain go numb.

“are you ready, baby?” changbin asks as presses his tip against your entrance. chan uses the two fingers that were circling your clit to spread your lips for changbin.

“mhm,” you nod.

changbin very slowly pushes himself inside you. you had forgotten how thick his cock was. he was shorter than chan, but much thicker. the stretch burns as causes tears to form in your eyes but its also incredibly pleasurable and your hips move up to meet his.

when changbin bottoms out, chan moves his hand up to your mouth and you eagerly take them in your mouth. you pan your eyes over to jisung, whose mouth is slightly agape as he’s knelt next to you. he’s gently palming himself through his sweats.

as chan’s fingers explore your mouth, you gaze back and forth between the two boys in front of you. chan removes his fingers and moves them back down to your clit, pinching the bud a couple times before returning to rubbing circles and figure eights.

changbin begins to move his hips faster, he wraps his hands under your thighs and gently pushes back on them. the new angle has you seeing stars and reaching your high embarrassingly quick.

“binnie, please!” you cry. “gonna cum. keep going.”

“you’re doing so well, love,” chan whispers into your ear, his voice sending waves of pleasure through your body.

“fuck,” changbin groans, throwing his head back in pleasure.

you take hold of chan’s forearm with one of your hands and dig your nails into his skin. you reach your other hand out to one of jisung’s thighs, gripping the fabric of his sweats, trying to ground yourself as changbin brings you over the edge.

“cumming!” you whine, back fully arching off of chan’s front and your head laying back on his shoulder. your hold on his forearm is probably strong enough to draw blood and rip the fabric of jisung’s sweats.

“that’s it, pretty girl,” chan coos.

changbin is quick to finish as well, spilling his seed inside of you. chan continues to rub circles on your clit, overstimulating you, until you're begging for a break.

changbin slides out and jisung is quick to replace him. looking for your approving nod before pushing himself inside you. the squelching noises of your own arousal and changbin’s release sounds so errotic, you feel as though you could cum from the sound alone.

jisung grabs hold of your hips to balance himself and begins to move. jisung isn’t as thick as changbin, but he’s slightly longer, reaching spots that changbin couldn’t reach. you wiggle your hips down to try and feel more of him.

“my god,” jisung groans, quickening his pace. changbin’s cum acting as a lube, making it easy for jisung to drill into you.

“so pretty,” chan chuckles, moving his fingers back down to rub your clit again. the feeling of oversensitivity makes you squirm in their grasps.

changbin uses one of his hands to press down on your lower stomach, in part to hold down your squirming body but to also help apply more pressure. you whine at the feeling of a second orgasm quickly forming.

“feel good, baby?” changbin asks, moving his thumb back and forth over your stomach.

you nod profusely. cries and moans pouring from your mouth, begging jisung to let you release all over him.

“let go, baby,” jisung moans. “please cum for me.”

your release is one of the most intense ones you’ve had in a while. your vision going hazy and your hearing cutting out for a second. when you come back to your senses, your legs shaking. chan is no longer behind you, but on his knees over top of you.

jisung is still to your left, but holding a bottle of water.

“you okay, baby doll?” he asks, helping you sit up and place the water bottle to your lips.

you nod and chan slides his hands gently up and down your thighs.

“you did amazing for us, love,” chan says softly.

“so, so, so good.” one of changbin’s hands come up to rub your back.

“do you think you can do one more? for me?” chan asks, gently spreading your legs by your knees.

you nod and the two other boys help you lay flat against the bed as chan lines himself up with your entrance. his slow push inside of you burns, he’s about as thick as changbin but with the same length as jisung. he hits all of the spots you didn’t even know you had. the slide in is easy, prepped by the two boys before him.

jisung and changbin lay on either side of you and pressed soft and gentle kisses to your face, neck, and chest. one of jisung’s hands slide down to your clit to rub small shapes on the overstimulated bud. you’ve lost all strength to move, but you moan and cry out as your handsome boyfriend begins his assault on your used pussy.

“that’s my pretty girl. always doing so good for me,” chan praises, his thick cock sliding smoothly against your walls.

“channie,” you cry.

“you can, baby,” he purrs, “i know you’re tired so whenever you want to.”

it’s like he can read your mind. he moves his hips a bit faster, not enough to ruin you for a third time, but just enough to make you feel like your on Cloud 9.

“cum with me, please,” you say with what strength you had left.

“of course,” he says with a cheesy smile.

you close your eyes and let your third orgasm wash over you. you back arches up and both chan and jisung gently work you through it. changbin mumbles words of encouragement against your skin.

the last thing you remember hearing before letting the exhaustion overtake your body was jisung asking:

“so who was the best?”

i'm a simp for 3racha don't talk to me

also if u saw this without pictures, no you didn't

@rockstrhanji @hyunjinhoexxx @mixtape-racha @euphoric-univers @haruharu-egypt @shit-why-what @twiggoblin @kookiesbunny @virgohannie @nataliee10 @ihrtlix @aaasia111 @lolli4me @lilcutieana @changbinsrightboob @hanjisunglover @chansducky10 @elissasimp @boi-bi-ahaha @lilquokka04 @anglerfishiey @sirenscall1031 @might-be-a-rat @jihyun2monster @kpflyn @samsmitty @imwithurmother @meilix @summer3sworld @mysweethannie @kittykattime @linoots @yaorzu-blog @sofiaeli

@alemi-i @cupidsmoons @yoongles2025 @vixensss @chlooooop @lemontried @idkluvutellme @superiorbrownskinn @ana-stasssiaaa @amayaaseees @ilikecatsanddoritos @alnex05 @esairevmp @greysweaters-blog @sanzusfavgf @jutannies @faraonatojishady @hanniemylovelyquokka @chloeskzboomboom @quinnluvsmoney @burningupp-replies @aisha-md @jo-dinner @jeannie-beannie @httpsimmy @hazneezs @cuffier

@dvbkie099 @il0v3skz @chrishak@quokkaaah @bex90997 @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @leeknowyah @tumadreposts @hyunniebunni @cipher-ipher @alice630 @jinnies-princess @bangtancultsposts @evrythinghqppened @rebellescauses-blog @juicypebbless @fawnpeaks @the-life-of-stella @lakoya @compersian @seung-mine @mal-lunar-28

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sfznyxio · 18 days

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❝ 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐘 ❞

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. fans are raving about the chemistry between you and their favorite actors who play as the love interest in your recent music video. they missed the message behind it: the two of you are actually together. now that the word’s out, the whole world won’t shut up.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. acheron, aventurine, dan heng, firefly, seele

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. gn!reader. celebrity au, actor au, musician au. fluff. 1.1k words. lineup is based on the en va panel at one night in penacony. inspired by a fanart of acheron and aventurine taking a selfie by @/yaoyaobae on twt. the pairs have been in a relationship for several years, kept private initially as we all know that the public eye can be vicious when it comes to dating life of celebrities. confirmation of relationship in various settings (acheron - red carpet; aventurine - concert; dan heng - fanmeet; firefly - interview; seele - livestream). reader was on hiatus for mental health reasons.

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀. i hope your aventurine summons are going well! i got a female, silver-haired aventurine who’s wind and harmony… haha… even having his hubby in the team and in the hotel room doesn’t work. i eventually got him at 77 pity thankfully, so my f2p status is safe (for now). used all my blood, sweat, and tears to bring him home.

𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐍.

“over here!” as you step out of the limousine, you’re greeted with shouts from the photographers and flashes from their cameras. walking to the photo booth together with acheron, the photographers become frenzied, chanting her name multiple times. you feel awkward standing still with a flat smile, so you look at her for inspiration of what poses to do.

“are you nervous?” the red carpet is uncharted territory. it’s your dream for a small musical artist like yourself to attend such a huge event, with a date no less. also, you have announced your relationship with acheron to the public recently. this event being your first appearance since then makes you feel that way. a pair of lips lands on your hand, and it calms you down.

“focus on me.” she rests her forehead against yours, and you clutch onto her suit to steady yourself from the rapid fire flashes. the photographers are thriving off the pictures they captured of your pda. acheron feels the same for being able to show affection for you out in the open. you share her sentiment, and now you're not worried about posing when you place her hand on her chest and look at her with so much love, knowing that you can let the world know she’s yours.

𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄.

“this is the last song for tonight.” fans express their disappointment as they don’t want your concert to end. for the finale, you’ll be performing your newest single for the first time. you’re excited for the audience to hear it live, but you’re hoping that aventurine hears it too.

“let’s make this count, yeah?” cheers ripple among the crowd. you begin reminiscing about your musical career, especially writing this song. you and aventurine are there for each other as long as you can remember, so you pray that a miracle will pull him out of his busy schedule and watch you sing your heart out. as if the gods heard you, the monitors switch to a blond man in a teal turtleneck curving his arms outward with the tips of his fingers on his head.

“i love you!” is what you read from the movement of his mouth, and you reciprocate the gesture while on the verge of tears. at the very end of the performance, you realize the dried tears on your cheeks which are wiped away by aventurine. a kiss on the temple and a hug has everyone cooing at the sight of how happy the two of you are together. casting doubts of your dreams in ruins because of falling in love away, there’s nothing to fear as long as aventurine’s by your side.

𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆.

“bye, nice to meet you!” you wave at an overjoyed fan walking away with your autograph. this fanmeet is the busiest to date, considering that you were on hiatus before the release of your single. also, your music video’s trending because of its lead actor dan heng, a cool-headed heartthrob of the industry, who happens to be your significant other for years now.

“hi there!” the next fan in line wears a mask and hood over his head, but you immediately recognize him by the way he looks at you. dan heng is someone with a few words, but his eyes say it all. before you even know it, he pulls down his mask to sneak a kiss on your nose. you’re given so many flowers and homemade but he himself is a favorite you’ve received thus far. you just hope that everyone hasn’t seen your flustered state to spare yourself from the embarrassment.

“cute. as always.” you don’t have the power to respond to his flirtation, nor rip your fingers off from his that are already entangled with yours. you feel sorry for whoever’s behind him, but they’re long gone, seeing that the cold dragon young has been in front of them all long. described to be cool and cold, he’s warm to the touch. noticing that he’s showing more of himself, you think it’s time to follow suit. after all, he wants to show everyone how endearing you are.

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐘.

“the viewers are curious about the two of you.” following the question of the symbolism throughout your music video, the interviewer’s reminded of the numerous private messages they received. people beg them to ask about your relationship with firefly, who’s also a guest in this interview. she clings onto your arm, something she does when she’s nervous.

“i’m sure everyone’s also curious about that specific scene.” the poor girl lets out a sound of defeat, of her soul leaving her body. that scene you’re referring to is the longest to film because she gets very emotional about how raw and vulnerable the lyrics and your acting are. of course, you’re leaving that part out to save her from losing more of herself. but there's no doubt that it’s special; she’s your shining star.

“it… was very meaningful to us.” firefly unexpectedly kisses your cheek and immediately hides in the space between your neck and shoulder to conceal her reddened face. you glance at her, soon forgetting about the interview and having your mind relieve memories of that specific scene. she’s true to her name, guiding you out of the fields to somewhere safe, like how she drags you out of your lowest. you’ll get lost in life, but you can always count on her to find you at the maze.

𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐄.

“my new single’s out!” a flurry of comments and colorful hearts are sent to congratulate the release of your new song after some years of hiatus. it’s been a while since you streamed, so it’s a given you’re nervous. other comments congratulate the reveal of your relationship with seele, whose cough can be heard in the background.

“hey, have you seen my— oh, sorry.” as soon as she walks into the area of your stream, she quickly backtracks only for you to pull her there. the chat is excited to see her based on their rapid fire commentary. many of them say the two of you look great, and in fact in your case, breaks from the industry did help you reflect on both your personal and professional growth. she gives a boost in achieving your goals, including a new song which turns out to be successful. you don’t think you can make it at this point without her.

“no, i’m gonna be late for my shoot. see you later?” seele leaves a haste kiss on your shoulder and rushes to the door. you return to your stream, finding yourself talking more about her than your single, not that your fans are complaining. they can sense how thankful you are to the people who supported you throughout your hardships, especially her who urges you to create that song that revolves around yourself. you couldn’t have it any other way.

#♪ .fics #honkai: star rail #honkai: star rail x reader #hsr x reader #acheron x reader #aventurine x reader #dan heng x reader #firefly x reader #seele x reader #honkai: star rail fluff #hsr fluff

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xerotiny99 · 2 months

Text

2 AM Call // Our Precious #1

2 AM Call (Our Precious series #1)

M.list ┃Next Part

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader

Warning: dom!yunho, sub!reader, suggestive, sexting, phone sex, a lot of dirty talk (seriously, really filthy), masturbating, etc...

Note: if any of the above-mentioned topics trigger you then you can click off. :) also, do not proceed if you're below 18.

An Extra Note: this is a mini - or - a long series, and I'm too lazy to make a different book for it. Hence, I'll be adding all the planned/written chapters of this series in this book. It'll be in second person pov, but instead of writing [y/n] — cause I'm too lazy, really — I'll be writing Angel. So, the reader's name is Angel for this series. This series revolves around polygamy, which means the reader will be involved with ot8; the chapters will unfold slowly from the beginning and follow a storyline.

Gist: being in your sophomore year of college, you meet a very cute and handsome bookstore clerk. You happen to exchange numbers and on the same night, he's all you can think about. When you decide to ring him up, it's 2 AM and both of you have different things on your minds.

Word Count: 5,471

Lehninger.

Albert Lehninger.

Principles of Biochemistry.

You grumble under your breath, shifting your eyes chaotically around the shelves of hardcover books aligned in alphabetical order. The wooden shelves feature biochemistry books, and out of all these, you needed only one, which apparently was too hard for your eyes to search. Scorching sun outside is far less preferable than the air conditioning of the second-hand bookstore you were in, so you decide to stay in and pass a few more minutes looking through the books.

Maybe, you could find something worthwhile in store, perhaps something other than textbooks and thesis unrelated to your university work. Sighing, you bend over slightly to grasp the titles inscribed on the spines of several other books.

"It could be here, maybe." you thought to yourself.

"Hi, how can I help you?" a cheery yet raspy voice cuts through your thoughts, "are you looking for a specific book?"

Your attention turns towards the humbly speaking man, and once your gaze falls onto him, and his smile, you hold your breath. He was...ethereal; clad in a beige coloured cardigan and a white turtleneck under it, the man's demeanour was stoic and poised yet friendly and warm. Towering over and looking down at your petite stature, he smiles widely, politely waiting for you to reply. You take a minute longer to stare and notice all finer details on his face; his porcelain skin, pretty pink lips, a straight nose—almost sculpted, and his innocently shaped doe eyes just boring into yours.

There it goes without saying, you were drooling over him. He was attractive, no doubt, but the way he offered you a benign smile made your heart lurch a bit was far more beguiling than his looks. In all seriousness, it had been more than a minute or two since you had been silently checking him out; you had failed to notice the heap of books he was holding in his arms before, but now that you do, you mentally groan at his bulging arms with prominent veins on the back of his hands.

"Hello—"

"—yeah, no. I mean, I was actually looking for...Lehninger—um, biochemistry?" you stutter and ramble, lastly stringing your words into a question.

"Oh, wait. Give me a minute, I'll check it in our database." Carrying the books in his hands, he nudges you to follow him with a nod.

You do cluelessly follow him but enjoy the view of his rear; you really needed to snap out of it! He guides you to the front desk where the cash register was situated, and a computer was stowed away on the other side of it. Thump the books go, having been put down on the desk by him before he leans over the computer to type. Standing on the other side of the desk, you watch him do the work, with your arms folded over your chest.

In the heat of the moment, you're reeling back to checking him out; silverbluish hair styled in a mullet, the puffy strands kissing the collar of his turtleneck, his eyelashes batting every two seconds at the blaring computer screen—you bite down on your lip when libidinous thoughts swarm your mind. His hands, those sleek fingers pressing down the keys on keyboard...how good would those feel as they're pumping in and out of your cunt.

"Oh, okay. Got it!" he squeals softly, turning to you, "looks like we've got one copy of the sixth edition. Would that be alright?"

You flinch, snapping from your thoughts and realising you really needed to get laid, at least to get your mind straight.

"Ah," you take some time to comprehend his words, "sure. I don't mind, to be honest. Only need it as a reference for my assignment."

"You could've issued this book at the university library, why didn't you?" he asks, stepping out from the counter and guiding you back to the wooden shelves.

You look at your feet, stumbling behind him, unsure of what to say. "I believe it's better to have a personal copy instead of issuing it from the library since I'm going to need till my senior year. Couldn't afford a new one, so I thought why not invest in a second-hand."

He heaves out a gentle chuckle, halting his steps in front of a shelf. "That's fair. So, Horizon University?"

"Yeah," you mumble. "Got a scholarship and everything...how did you..."

"It's the only university close by, and I'm in my senior year there, well, at the end of it—only one more month left till I graduate." he starts rummaging through the racks in the shelf to find your book. "Dance major."

"Sophomore year here, zoology major." he hums, looking at you and pulls out a thick book from the shelf. You continue in a hushed voice, "I've still got two years left in that hellhole."

"You don't like the university?" he questions, as a matter of factly.

"No. Not really. Not that I know I can't make friends for fucks sake," you state.

"You haven't met the right kind of people yet, it's fine. You will soon." he flashes you a toothy grin. "Do you need anything else?"

"No, I'm good." you whisper, "I'll hopefully vibe with someone soon, can't be alone all the time."

"Like I said, you will. Hang in there," he reassures you with his smile going deep in his cheeks, "I'll ring this up for you, come on."

By the cash register, you pay the respective amount while he puts the book in a paper bag having the store's name printed on top of it.

As he hands you the bag, he chimes, "there you go."

You take the bag in your hands, but don't leave just yet; you didn't want to leave him. Drawn to his charismatic presence, you stay behind for a long second. You're staring into each other's eyes, intently lingering onto the disguised inklings in either of your minds. The space around you seems so suffocating, heavy and laden with thick air. In the pit of your stomach, there's an urge you want to act on, you want to tear your gaze away from him and continue on with the rest of your day.

But you can't.

And your heart doesn't want to, thinking there's a possibility of you engaging with him on a romantic level.

From the corner of your eye, you watch his lips twitch into a tiny smile; he scurries his hand on the desk and pulls out one of the store's business cards. He has a sharpie ready on him, and scribbles something on the back of the card.

"Just in case, here's my number. Give me a call, or a text. Would like to hang out with you some time," he slides the cards across the desk to you, "I'm Yunho, by the way."

You take the card and slip it in the pocket of your dress; yes, you wore a clingy summer dress with pockets because pockets are a lifesaver.

"My name's Angel."

"I look forward to hearing from you, Angel."

And you did find something better in there, other than books.

The day rolls by as smoothly as it should, after leaving the bookstore you make your way back to your dorm room in the university to keep the book in your room and grab your laptop as you decide to spend the rest of your morning in the campus cafe. Musty notes of coffee linger in the air while you save Yunho's contact into your phone and work a little on your assignment. All your lectures, you whiled the time thinking about Yunho—his face, his voice, his fingers, his body—you were starting to realise how reprehensibly had this man taken up every fraction of your mind.

You weren't complaining, though. But it was proving to be very distracting amidst your lectures. Coming back to your dorm room, lethargic from the humdrum day of lectures and practical work, you lay in your bed. Mindlessly, you pick your phone and go through your socials, especially Yunho's. He has to have an Instagram page at least. And to your surprise, he does. You come across a public account with few of his photos. You didn't get to see much of him however, as the photos were mostly of him either looking away from the camera or hiding his face behind his hands. Heaving an exasperated sigh, you lock your phone and go on about the rest of your day.

As night dawns in, you're back in your bed after eating dinner. You've done all of your nightly routine and are freshly showered. You wear a dark brown cardigan over your black lingerie; really not in the mood to change into sleepwear because of the buzzing heat of summer. Again, mindless thoughts pop in your head and you grab your phone to check any texts from your nonexistent friends. It's not like you didn't have any friends, you didn't prefer to make friends—regardless, you did have one friend in the entirety of your university. He was a bunny-eyed man with deep brown hair, and a baby yet stoic face; Choi Jongho. But you spoke to him occasionally and only interacted when needed to.

Opening the messaging app on your phone, you almost make sure to have a double take when you see Yunho's name at the top with very recent messages from him. Yep. It was him. You checked it twice only to be sure and it was his contact number. Stifling a squeal, you open your chats.

Yunho: Hey! Just wanted to make sure you got to your dorm room safely. And how's that book working out for you?

[Sent 22:39 pm Read 1:06 am]

So, he needed an excuse to text you. How adorable.

You: Hi Aren't you quick to text me? ^^ It's alright. And... The book makes me want to hit my head against a wall.

[Sent 1:07 am Read 1:07 am]

Yunho: Ouch :( I have no idea what works in biochemistry. Sadly. But hang in there! And ofc Thought I'd keep you company since you're a loner.

[Sent 1:09 am Read 1:10 am]

You: I have friends, mister!

[Sent 1:10 am Read 1:12 am]

Yunho: Yeah You do Imaginary friends don't count.

[Sent 1:12 am Read 1:13 am]

You: I do have a friend! Don't underestimate me.

[Sent 1:14 am Read 1:15 am]

Yunho: "a" friend I'm not tbh But who's this friend?

[Sent 1:16 am Read 1:17 am]

You: He's in my department We've got couple of classes together

[Sent 1:17 am Read 1:18 am]

Yunho: well then I'll let you talk to him

[Sent 1:19 am Read 1:19 am]

You felt a pang of pain bubble in your chest, but your mind couldn't figure out why you were hurting over his response.

You: Why do you sound mad?

[Sent 1:19 am Read 1:35 am]

Yunho: I'm not :)

[Sent 1:35 am Read 1:36 am]

You: k.

You roll your eyes and blink away the weirdness. Now, your silly anguish had been replaced with anger and frustration. In fact, you wondered why you felt so silly about this ordeal when he was the one to initiate texting you. They say men have a golden rule of texting, that is, they'd wait three days until texting. But it turns out Yunho was little too eager to talk to you. Shaking your head, you sit up straight in your bed and puff your cheeks. Your eyes glaze over your reflection in the full-length mirror in front of your closet.

An idea sparks your curiosity, and you smirk to yourself. Bringing your phone back in your hand, you angle it at a specific point to get your entire body in the frame. You take a mirror selfie, perched by the edge of the bed, your cardigan loosely hanging over your shoulder to expose your lingerie and a good amount of your cleavage, your hair flowing down on one side of your shoulder, and your eyes remain emotionless. Having no perceivable clue of your behaviour, you slump yourself back in bed and purposely send the picture to Yunho. You wait for a minute to pass when you text him back.

You: *sent attachment*

You: Oh god! Didn't meant to send it to you. Can you delete it, please?

[Sent 1:45 Read 1:45]

Yunho: Oh ... Well I saw it. And it's only fair if you... *sent attachment*

[Sent 1:46 Read 1:47]

You feel the buzz in your head, upon checking out the attachment he sent you. Thinking it'd be a normal photo, you didn't pay too much attention to it, but maybe you should have, and you did exactly at your second take of the photo. It was him, obviously; he was sitting in a gaming chair, legs widespread, wearing his loose sweatpants under a haze of dim lights of his room. One of his hands held his phone as he clicked the picture, while the other palmed his crotch. And then you saw it, his boner, protruding from the sweatpants. You mentally tried to gauge his size by the pronounced outline on his pants. And you were impressed.

The heaviness in your head grows when you notice his sly smirk in the photo, and the bulging veins on both of his hands; he wanted to rile you up, just the way you did. Though, if there could be a difference, you did it out of spite and he was doing it to get back to you. Squeezing your thighs together, you tried to control your urges, the same stupefying urges you got when you saw him in the bookstore this morning. The suppression of your desire leads to you heaving out a deep breath, wanting to get back at him for ruining your peace with that photo.

You: someone's all worked up. what were you thinking about?

[Sent 1:50 am Read 1:51 am]

Yunho: Just something Or someone

[Sent 1:51 am Read 1:52 am]

You: I wouldn't mind taking a peek in your head ;)

[Sent 1:53 Read 1:53]

Yunho: Do you really want to know what I'm thinking about?

[Sent 1:54 Read 1:55]

You: Yes Unless you don't want to.

[Sent 1:56 Read 1:57]

Yunho: I'd be the one to ask you that Are you sure you want to know?

[Sent 1:57 Read 1:58]

For some reason you could picture him with a conceited smile on his face, still sitting on the chair and his legs wide apart while he rubs his cock through his sweats.

You: You like teasing don't you?

Yunho: Oh I love it

You: I'll tell you what. I've been thinking about you since the morning

Yunho: Hmm Likewise I've been thinking about all the things I'd do to you if you were here with me

You: and what would you do?

You draw in a sharp breath, chest heaving up and down when your mind fogs with the thoughts of him doing filthy things to you.

Yunho: For the starters... I'd gently kiss your lips While ripping the buttons off your sweater Taking it off Letting my hands roam your body

Reading his texts, you pull at the buttons on your sweater, one by one and eventually shrugging it off from your body. You tremble slightly as you proceed to text him with one hand.

You: Go on...

Yunho: I'd pin you to the bed Make sure your hands are above your head Kiss you so hungrily. use my hands to feel all of you. And take off whatever that's remaining on your body Id tease you a hell a lot Fukc Ferl your bdy shuddre under mine when I drg my fingerss down to yor wet pussy Pusj my fingers deep in you knuckles feep Make you mewl as my fingers pumped in and out ... Fuck I want you so bad

That was the point of no return for you, you were deeply invested in this game, in this stupid act of desperation where all you could think about was his texts. It brings your colourful imagination to mind, visualising his texts as you rub your fingers on your now-aroused cunt through your dripping wet panties. you noticed the typos in his texts, probably from him typing with his one hand while his other remained busy.

Taking a deep breath, you rest against the headboard of your bed, your legs spread a little to make it easier for your hands to rub you. You bite your lip, thinking more of him, thinking of his sleek fingers sawing you out while he's knuckles deep in your cunt.

You: I want you too So so bad I want your fingers in me I want you to loosen me up nice for your cock to pound into me

You finally decide to push your panties to the side, while ghosting your fingers over your clit before you let them submerge in your heat. Your arousal coats your fingers as they slick back and forth, at a steady pace, in your cunt. Your mind is already long gone to the end where you were only yearning for him to make you feel good. Noticing how your phone hadn't buzzed for a long time, you shift your attention to it and instead of his texts, you see him calling you. Hesitation knocks at your door, but you're too far gone from rationality to think about it. As you answer his call and press your phone to your ear, you hear his ragged breathing. It brushes your ear and tickles you, springing up goosebumps on your skin, as though he was right next to you in your bed.

"You really know how to make a man all worked up, don't you?" he hisses, "don't worry, princess. I'll make you feel good."

You take in another deep breath through your mouth, bringing your fingers out of your cunt. Hovering them over your chest, you push the cups of your bra down and grope your breasts; you pinch your nipples, fondle and knead your tits to get yourself in the mood. He doesn't know about it, but your fantasies run wild—with him as he fills his hands with your tits, groping and fondling them, maybe even more.

"What is my Angel doing right now? Are you touching yourself at the thought of me pinning you down to the bed and fucking you relentlessly?" he asks, and your mind pictures it word to word.

"Yes. I want you to—I want you to fuck me foolish—make me—make me see stars—while—while your cock rams into me..." you stutter, struggling to strip yourself out of your lingerie.

"Pretty filthy thoughts for a beautiful face like yours, Angel." His tone is teasing as he continues, "wanting a stranger you just met to do all these vile things to you...you're a cum-slut aren't you?"

Dirty talk was never your cup of tea, it made you cringe internally but there was something about Yunho's deep and sultry voice that made you wet, insanely wet. You bite your lip, conscience half gone to the sound of his trembling breathing, and rub your clit—the sensation only brings butterflies in your stomach, because in your mind those were his fingers and not yours. In your mind everything you did to yourself was replaced with him, and it was enough to get you started.

Biting back on a moan, you reply, "yeah...I want you to—I want you to do all the vile stuff to me."

You hear certain shuffling in the background alongside a long pause and then, your ears catch up on his soft little grunts. Nothing prepared your imagination for what you were thinking; him in his bed or just in his gaming chair, with his cock out, stroking himself at the thought of you.

"Your—your wish is my command," he growls, his deep voice resonating in your ear, "would love to finger your tight little cunt, drawing out these pretty moans from your mouth..."

You slide one finger down your slit, and eventually ease it in your hole; it brought discomfort at first, a little, but when you started moving it deep within you, you felt your walls clench slightly around it.

"Fuck...yes, I want you to spread—spread me open with your fingers."

He did not need to know that you were fingering yourself, your voiceless grunts and whispers were enough for him to imagine it. Picturing you plunge your fingers into your cunt, he increases the pace of his hand stroking his cock; though, he keeps himself steady. He couldn't really help himself and gradually increases the rhythm of his movements.

"Add another finger, baby." he mumbles, closing his eyes and leaning back against his chair.

You oblige, adding another finger in your hole.

"How does it feel?"

"Good—feels good, Yunho." You mewl his name, scissoring your fingers inside of you.

"You're doing great, princess. Now, curl your fingers..." he manages to squeak out in a whisper, pumping his cock with busy motions.

His chest rises and falls rhythmically to your moans, and you do as he says; curling your fingers inside you, you feel a certain warmth lingering in your stomach. You were getting close to your climax, without even having to anything more—the knot strikes a jolt of tightness in the pit of your stomach, and you moan out loud. Really loud.

"I want you to feel me, Yunho." you breathe out, aroused. "I want to feel you too—feel your cock sliding in and out of me—fucking me good with it."

"Oh baby," he goes silent for a second, focused on stroking himself, "I'll fuck you good—I'll fuck you till you're begging for me to stop..."

"Ah fuck," you arch your back off the mattress, trying to chase your high.

Your fingers plunge in and out, increasing tension in your stomach and gut; your tightness was gradually easing up, and so you decide to insert another finger in. The stretch stung, however, pleasurable, making you whimper his name out loud.

"Yunho...!"

"Yes, baby, I know." he winces in diversion. "Hold on a little longer, I'm close—I'm close too."

He breathes out, increasing the pace of his hand; his cock slick with his precum and it spreads along the shaft as he continues to pump himself. You could hear the strain in his voice, indicating you, he indeed was close to his own climax; you were too, knowing your fingers were hitting your sweet spot every time they thrusted in you. Keeping your phone on loudspeaker, you set it on the nightstand and use your other hand to rub your clit. You increase the pace of your fingers, flesh squelching, your juices lightly lapping against your fingers—the knot tightens delicately in your stomach as your tempo remains constant.

Yunho bucks his hips into hands, composing himself as he thrusts his cock into his hand, thinking about your tight cunt. He has a colourful mind too, picturing himself rocking his hips so that his cock hits all of your deepest parts. His lungs convulse, fighting the urge to moan but it breaks out of his lips anyway. He moans your name, shaking and struggling to hold his phone next to his ear—he does the same as you, sets his phone aside while keeping it on speaker.

"Such a dirty little slut, fingering herself to the thought of my cock thrusting into her," his voice gives you a push, fuels your soul with the fire it lacked. In retrospect, he needed something too, to tip him off his edge as he fucked his hand. "Fuck...needs my cock to make her happy..."

"Yes, please," you cry, tears rolling down the side of your face as your fingers do their work.

Your high was approaching you, so close, almost there. The limit to hold it in was past the point, he could say something and you would be riding down your orgasm—you needed him, his voice, his words. On the other hand, Yunho's patience was running thin, he wanted to finish it off—feeling the warmth of his hand pushing him to his edge, he smirks to himself and throws his head back.

"Are you close, princess? Cause I am..." he grunts.

You nod your head, pursing your lips together to make a gentle sound of humming. You didn't realise it yet, but you were bucking your hips to your fingers, letting them curl and slip in deep inside you; grinding your hips against your fingers, you let out a satisfied groan—the tightness in the pit of your stomach comes undone. Rummaging your hand to hold the headboard behind you, you brace yourself as your high washes over you with a vehement intensity. You let our shaky breaths, well beyond being breathless, as your fingers slowly make their way out of your heat. Your chest rises and falls, tremors spread under your skin with your juices dripping down your inner thighs.

"Fuck, princess..."

His groan is a little static, coming from your phone as it leaves your imagination to run wild. You picture him slumped in his chair with his load spurting out to stain his lower abdomen and clothes. In reality, Yunho breathes through his mouth, letting it fall agape when his high comes crashing down onto him. He had never felt such rush of satisfaction by only indulging himself with you on call; he had never felt himself cumming so hard for anyone with any real action, but here he was, panting and shaking, stroking off his climax as he grimaced at his hand full of his cum.

There's a long moment of silence between you two, and in that silence, the post-orgasm clarity sinks deep within you. The thought of you being so indecent with a man you met in the morning, not even knowing him for more than a day, brought some coherence to your mind. Though, the best is to let it go and keep it in your bounds of inadvertent thrills of late night.

Your body feels languid, and tired; wondering the same for him.

"That was..."

"It happened in the moment," Yunho breathlessly pronounces, "we're just two strangers who have nothing to do with each other, right?"

"Well..."

You sit straighter in your bed, staring at your phone as you bite your lip; you were waiting for him to speak.

"Well what?" he mumbles, a sly smile stretching his lips.

"I thought...never mind. I'm way over in my head." You shrug it off, pulling the sheets over your body as the embarrassment drowned you out. "It's fine, we'll pretend this never happened."

"What? Are you crazy?" his voice is much clear now, with the obvious tone of bewilderment. "Gosh, Angel. You don't know how hard I came for you. I can't pretend this never happened; instead, I wouldn't mind giving us..."

He trails, dragging his words in a whisper with hopes of you completing him. "...giving us a try, like just keeping our relationship exclusive to sex?"

"If you're down for it." he mumbles, "I don't want to do anything that you're uncomfortable with."

"I'll think about it."

You smiled to yourself, thinking about that possibility. When the sun rose to a new day, you found yourself pondering. Not exactly in the 'deep venture' of it, but you just kept your mind busy with Yunho's proposal and thought of the consequences if you were to ever agree to it. Friends with benefits with a soon-to-graduate hot senior? That sounds tempting, a lot, it also fuels your infatuation with him. But on the other hand, you didn't want to go down that road with him. There were second thoughts in your mind, of course there'd be—you maybe, sort of, liked this man, after all, he does give off the vibes that he'd be a great boyfriend. You didn't want to ruin that possibility with him.

The rest of your day goes as scheduled, you attend a few of your lectures in the morning. Currently, it's afternoon and you have last of your classes to attend. Amidst all the excitement and stress, your friend, Jongho texts you, asking you to get him your lab-coat for his practical class. You find him standing in front the chemistry department, smiling and engaged in a chatter with someone else. And upon noticing it from afar, the person who he was talking to was Yunho. It was such a contrast, both were happy-go-lucky kind of guys, but Jongho seemed more innocent than Yunho (after the night you had spent with him, it was hard to picture him being anything but innocent). You could make it out from his tall built, and silver-bluish hair styled in a mullet, regardless with his back facing you. Hesitation stricken, you somehow manage to make your way to him; because Jongho had already noticed you even before you turn around and run away.

"There she is!" Jongho glees, and Yunho turns around, meeting your eyes. "Thank you so much for bringing it, I really despise prof. Yuen when he gets all judgmental about 'forgetting' to bring a lab-coat to his practical class."

"Hey, no worries," you smile at him, handing him your lab-coat. "I have his practical class day after tomorrow, till then the coat is yours." You laugh it off, awkwardly glancing at Yunho.

Jongho notices the out-of-ordinary ogles you made at Yunho, chiming in, "oh right, Angel, this is Yunho. I live with him and six other guys. But that's not important and ummm.." he looks at Yunho, scratching the back of his neck, "she's Angel, my only friend in this university."

Yunho smiles warmly at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he does. "Oh so, it's her you can't stop chattering about?" he chuckles lightly, "and what do you mean 'your only friend' aren't we your friends too?"

Jongho rolls his eyes, "you guys are nothing but a pain in the ass. Just today, in the morning Wooyoung and San drank all the milk and kept empty containers back in the refrigerator. I had to crunch on cereals before heading out for my morning classes."

"So, are you tainting all others because of those two individuals?" Yunho retorts.

You purse your lips together, ineptly crossing your eyes between them; you were aware of Jongho's living condition, but you could have never expected Yunho to be one of his flatmates. It was true, Jongho lived with seven other guys from the university, some of them having a full time job, and at times he would complain about them to you. Though you never really focused too much on what he had to say, or even catch their names.

"Uhhh..." you trail, offering them a tight lipped smile.

"Angel, come on, back me up." Jongho grumbles.

"I can't say anything about your flatmates, Jongho." The chestnut-haired man rolls his eyes, and you continue, "but I've always listened to your rants."

"I bet you're a good listener, Angel." Yunho taunts you, "and an even better friend to him."

"She is," Jongho breaks out in a smile. "Hey, you should totally come over on Thursday. We've got a game night planned."

"Uh, Jongho, I don't think I'd want to play board games with eight guys." You mutter under your breath.

"Who said we play board games?" Yunho says, drawing his brows together. "Though, it'll be fun for a while, having a girl over."

"Yes, Angel. You should consider it. Just—just think about it okay?" the enthusiasm in Jongho's voice isn't hard to ignore. "Now, I've got a class, so I'll see you in a bit."

With that he disappears, leaving you and Yunho stranded alone with nothing to talk about or a lot to talk about.

"What a lovely coincidence," Yunho begins, smiling at you, "the girl he talked about was you all along; well, he painted a pretty picture of you in our heads."

"I see Jongho as anything but more than a friend." you pout, "and this game night, should I even consider coming?"

"Well, it depends on you, princess," he smirks, "it depends on whether or not you could keep your hands to yourself. Because I'll be there."

"Oh, don't put yourself on a high pedestal, mister." You roll your eyes, "I'll think about it."

"Don't you have a lot to think about already?" he steps closer to you, towering over you as he leans close to your ear, "I don't think I can go on without touching you for the entire time you'd be there, so really do think about it."

He straightens up and mumbles one last time before leaving you completely high and dry.

"And if you do come, I will really fuck you senseless."

Next Part ┃ M.list

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez yunho #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #smut

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charmandabear · 5 months

Text

Office Hours - Chapter One

Summary:

Your colleague Dr. Ancunin is a smug condescending bastard and you can't stand him. But you also can't get him out of your head.

Pairing: Astarion/F!Reader Rating: E Word Count: 5.2k Tags/Warnings: unprotected p in v sex, creampie, no breeding kink, masturbation, vaginal fingering, vampire bites, modern au, college/university au, urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, like the briefest mention of suicide while talking about Hamlet

This would not exist without @zipzoomzaria's gorgeous glasses screenshots because PROFESSOR, PLS. Go follow her bc her edits are out of this world. The masturbation scene is also heavily inspired by @astarionfreak's "Are You Satisfied, Darling?" If you haven't read it what are you doing???

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

There’s something about him that rubs you the wrong way. It could be his arrogance, or the condescending way he peers over his glasses at you and your other colleagues. It might be the overpriced cashmere turtlenecks that hug his figure perfectly or the stupid silver earrings adorning his stupid elf ears. But every time he opens his pretty little mouth you feel a snarl growing deep in your throat.

This is the first university you’ve worked at where the theatre and English departments shared an office. Theatre and music, sure, even theatre and dance. But theatre and English? It feels insulting, honestly. English PhDs are some of the snobbiest people you’ve ever met, and they always speak to you like a child. Is it because they’re unimpressed by your MFA, like it made you less deserving of your position? Who knows. But Astarion Ancunin is no different.

“Grace, would you mind making twelve copies of pages 219-254 when you get a chance?” You hand the administrative assistant the heavy book. “You can leave them in my mailbox, I’ll pick them up later.” Grace opens the book to the instructed page.

“Oh, Much Ado About Nothing! I love that one!” she squeals with delight. “That Beatrice and Benedick,” she sighs, stroking the Complete Works lovingly. You smile at her cordially.

“They’re great, they’re basically the non-problematic version of Kate and Petruchio,” you respond in agreement.

“How tragic that Taming’s writing is better.”

You whirl around to see Ancunin walking in looking at something on his phone. He doesn’t even look up as he inserts himself into your conversation. You glare at his interruption. He looks up at Grace, bypassing you completely.

“Good morning, Grace darling, how are you today?” He sweeps over to her and takes her hand in his, planting a kiss on her knuckles. Gods he’s fucking insufferable. Not to mention unprofessional. Grace, however, blushes and giggles like a schoolgirl.

“I’m doing well, Dr. Ancunin, and yourself?” The tiefling’s voice jumps up about three pitches and her tail starts swishing excitedly.

“Leagues better now that I’ve been blessed with your presence,” he coos at her, voice positively saccharine. It takes every ounce of your patience to keep from rolling your eyes. He casts his gaze to you, and even you need to turn away from those piercing red eyes.

“Good morning, professor. Starting Much Ado with your students, I take it?” he asks with a light smile that makes you bristle.

“Yes, it’s a great way for them to practice switching between verse and prose,” you respond coolly, more than a little defensive.

“Of course, one of his best.” He glances down at the volume still in Grace’s hands and his eyebrows raise, peering over the top of his round glasses. “Going with the Bevington, hmm? Interesting. I’m more of a Norton man, myself.” He runs a slender finger along the binding as you grit your teeth. Is he really patronizing you over your choice of edition of Shakespeare’s Complete Works? Of course, he’s an English scholar.

“The Norton is a great tool dramaturgically, but the Bevington is a much better resource for actors, so, yes.” Your voice is steady but there’s an undeniable venom in it. Can he tell how much he’s bothering you? Probably, he’s almost certainly getting enjoyment out of riling you up. His little smirk would seem to suggest it, at least.

“Well certainly, and who knows acting resources better than our resident classical acting expert?” he intones, voice still dripping with honey. You narrow your eyes at him, unsure if he’s taking another jab at your degree.

“Well, as much as I enjoy standing around and debating the merit of various editions of the Complete Works, I’m about to be late for a meeting. Grace, thank you so much, I’ll be back later to pick up those copies. Dr. Ancunin,” you turn to his smug face and he looks back at you innocently. “A pleasure, as always.” You grab your papers and leave the office, feeling the heat of his gaze boring into the back of your head as you leave.

***

“Yes, Thaniel, come on in, have a seat,” you call out to the freshman loitering in the hallway outside your office. He comes in and drops his overfull backpack next to the teal club chair across from your desk. You close your laptop and smile at him warmly.

“So, Hamlet, that’s ambitious! I think it’s a good choice for you, but it’ll be a lot of work,” you say, glancing at your own copy of the monologue.

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here,” Thaniel says nervously. “I’m fine with the scansion and stuff, that I get, but I still don’t get the actual words. And I know you said how important that is.”

“For sure, I can guarantee all of the bad Shakespeare you’ve seen has been because the actors had no idea what they were saying. Have you used the Lexicon?” Thaniel looks off to the side, embarrassed.

“No, I don’t really get how that works either,” he says, an air of chagrin creeping into his voice.

“No worries, it takes practice. Here, we’ll do a few lines together. So first off, to be or not to be, that’s fairly obvious, right?”

“Yeah, he’s talking about suicide, right?”

“Sure, but what is he actually saying about it? To take arms against a sea of troubles/And by opposing, end them. What’s ‘them’ referring to?”

“The sea of troubles?”

“Right, the aforementioned slings and arrows. So even though you might know what those words mean individually, look them up in the Lexicon to see if they have a different context here. But you’re right, he’s trying to figure out if it’s better to suffer through the shittiness of existence or to take your fate into your own hands and, well, end them.” You highlight the line and lean over your desk to show Thaniel. A voice pipes up from the doorway.

“That’s not exactly what he’s saying, you know.”

The paper crumples in your hand slightly as your fist instinctively tightens. You plaster a strained smile on your face and look up at him.

“Dr. Ancunin, thank you for gracing us with your presence. Care to elaborate?”

He’s leaning in the doorway, arms crossed, face in shadows. Your office is unusually dark because of the storm outside, and so the bright fluorescents in the hallway give him an almost ethereal halo effect

“It’s a common misconception that Hamlet is contemplating suicide here. Life and death, sure, but ‘to take arms’ isn’t metaphorical, it’s literal. He’s contemplating dying as a result of killing Claudius, not taking his own life,” he says, almost sounding bored. You stand abruptly, your office chair skidding backwards.

“How can that possibly be true? He says ‘to take arms against a sea of troubles.’ He’s using the active voice, deciding whether or not to continue his life or end it. To be or not to be. It’s the first line in the monologue. He’s not talking about the consequences of killing Claudius.” You try to keep your voice from shaking. You know that you don't sound nearly as eloquent as him, and it’s pissing you off. He shrugs nonchalantly.

“You’re oversimplifying it, it’s exceedingly more complicated than that. The whole soliloquy is filled with war imagery. He’s at war with himself, the part of him that wants to kill Claudius and the part of him that is afraid to die.” He pushes himself off the door frame and steps back into the hallway. “But apologies, please don’t let me interrupt your instruction.” And like that he was off, leaving you to stew in silence. Thaniel looks up at you and looks back at the doorway where he stood.

“Should I…” he starts, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand.

“Dr. Ancunin comes at this from a very different angle as an English academic. He’s more interested in the words on the page, rather than how they translate to the stage. But,” you sigh, loathe to give him any credit, “it’s a valid interpretation. We can go down that route, if you want, or we can look at it through this lens.” Thaniel chews his lip while he considers his options.

“I think what you said makes more sense, the suicide bit,” he finally decides. You nod and pull out your copies of the Shakespeare Lexicon.

“Great, let’s go over how to use the Lexicon again,” you say as you flip through the book, looking for the entry for ‘slings.’

***

You drop off your bag and toss your keys into a bowl on the counter. Fucking exhausting day. You unzip your boots and kick them vaguely in the direction of the shoe rack, stretching and curling your toes for relief. You hang up your wet coat and shake rain from your hair. Your eyes dart between the refrigerator, wherein resides a bottle of white wine, and the bathroom door, contemplating how good a hot bath would feel. Both? Both is good.

You pour yourself a generous glass of Riesling and strip your clothes on your way to the bathroom. One of the perks of living alone. Sitting naked on the edge of the tub, you sip your wine as the bath fills.

Fucking Ancunin.

You’re a little shocked at how much he got under your skin today. Normally you don’t think twice about him, excepting the few times you have the misfortune of passing him in the hallway. But today the fates decided to throw you together and your schedules aligned. Well, in your defense, you didn’t seek him out that second time, he was the one who decided to crash your office hours.

You don’t even like Hamlet that much. You certainly don’t care about alternative interpretations of “To be or not to be.” But you’re mostly annoyed because he had a fair point. His read makes Hamlet a more interesting character rather than a cowardly incel romanticizing suicide.

You slide into the bath, hissing slightly as the hot water flows over your chilled skin. Without prompting, Ancunin worms his way back into your thoughts. Hmmph. You take a gulp of wine to try to wash away the taste of the unpleasant image.

Well… not entirely unpleasant. He’s a good looking man, you’d be a fool to deny it. But gods he’s so smug. And interrupting your meeting with Thaniel was wildly inappropriate. Leaning your head against the edge of the tub, you try to focus your thoughts elsewhere. You’re not about to let him interrupt you again, and when he’s not even present, no less.

But there he is, in your mind, crimson eyes looking over the top of those metal frame glasses that you’re, like, 99% sure he doesn’t actually need to see. You take another swig of wine to drown his stupid face. With his stupid cheekbones. And his dumb fucking earrings that you want to bite.

Nine hells, what is happening? You’ve been drinking your wine quickly and aren’t thinking straight. You grab your phone and open Spotify, letting your daily mix play through the bluetooth speaker on the counter.

Now Playing: Hatefuck by The Bravery.

If I put my hands around your wrists, would you fight them?

If I put my fingers in your mouth, would you bite them?

By Mystra’s fucking grace, seriously? You growl at the growing heat between your legs. Between putting off dinner and chugging your wine, your head is swimming. You might be better off getting it out of your system.

The wine glass hits the tub edge with a clank as you angrily put it down and sink into the water up to your chin. You are satiating a purely physical need, nothing else.

You still shiver as you slip your hand between your legs, lightly running your finger up your slit. You can see his face, looking down on you through those glasses - those infuriating glasses - and your lips flutter. What does he look like under those sweaters? He’s so thin, but his clothes fit incredibly well. It’s not hard to imagine a sculpted body beneath. You spread your legs further and let the warm water tickle your folds.

His silvery curls would look so good between your legs, slender fingers wrapped around your thighs while he laps you up. At least then he’d shut up. A gentle moan escapes your lips as you run your finger along your inner lips, pretending it’s him. You could grab hold of those perfect locks, yanking on them to control where he can go, fucking his face.

You move your other hand up to your breast and start teasing your nipple, feeling his lips around it. You give it a little tug and groan, just like if he nipped at it.

You imagine sitting on his pretty face, pointed ears flushed and hair a mess. Your hips buck into your hand as they might on top of him and your toes curl. You make gentle circles around your clit, thinking of all the other uses for his silver tongue. You whine and squirm at the sensations of heat radiating through your body. You slip a finger inside and hiss as you can see his pale digits entering you in your mind’s eye. You curl it upwards and gasp, his imaginary eyes looking up at you through those long lashes and a smirk playing across his imaginary lips.

“Are you ready for more of me, darling?” You can hear him murmur into your ear.

“Yes, gods yes,” you reply breathlessly into the cold bathroom air. You slide another finger in and feel that delicious stretch. The ghost of him moans, coming undone at the sight of you. You could leave him speechless, for once.

You reach over the edge of the tub and grab the box of waterproof toys. You frantically sift through your collection of dildos, trying to find the right one. Here. It’s long and svelte like the rest of him, but bright shimmery purple. You suction it to the bottom of the tub and hover above it on your knees. It sways lightly in the water, tip of it teasing your pussy just like you’d love to do to him.

Gods, to see him beg for your cunt. To see him reduced to a babbling mess, pleading to let him inside you. Your breath quickens at the mental image of him pulling on his own hair waiting for you to satisfy him. You sink down onto the dildo and your groan of pleasure mirrors what you’d like to hear from him.

You start sliding yourself on the purple dick, feeling its ridges glide against the walls of your cunt as you continue to finger your clit. You imagine your hand splayed across his chest, your black nails standing in contrast against his pale skin. You claw at the bottom of the tub as you increase your pace, desperate to see the pink raised skin that your nails leave behind. The fingers on your clit speed up as well, and you can feel yourself getting close.

“Oh gods, Astarion, don’t stop,” the words tumble from your mouth unbidden. You will absolutely hate yourself for that later, but right now all that matters is your ecstasy. You bounce atop the dildo, disregarding the water that splashes over the side of the tub as you chase your finish. Your moans increase in pitch and fervor as the various images of him in all sorts of positions flash through your mind. Between your thighs, sitting on his face, riding his dick, even fucking pegging him from behind because why the hell not?

“Astarion!” You cry out his name as you crash over the edge, legs shaking and pussy pulsing. Your orgasm reverberates throughout your whole body as you ride it out. Eventually, your movement slows and the water gently sways around you. You look down at your hand, milky juices swirling in the now tepid tub water.

Shit.

***

The next day at work, you avoid him like the plague. You keep your office door closed, usually an unthinkable act but entirely necessary right now. You double check the hallway before leaving to go teach, and then after class you immediately duck back into your office and close the door again. You even avoid the main office for fear of running into him there.

You can’t look at his face right now. You can’t possibly look him in the eye.

When 5:00 rolls around, you glance out into the hallway. Most of the other professors are leaving. To play it safe, you decide to work until 6 so that you can be sure that he’s gone when you leave. You absentmindedly grade performance responses. After you’ve read one paragraph about Miss Julie maybe a half dozen times, you realize that it’s probably time to go.

You slowly open the door and glance out into the hallway. You can’t tell from this angle if his door is open or not. You grab your bag and coat, take a deep breath, and make a beeline for the stairs. As you approach his office you realize it’s open.

Fuck.

It’s fine. You’ll just walk past it and get to the parking lot and then you won’t need to worry about it. He might not even be in there. Or if he is, he probably has his head down and won’t notice you walk by. It’s fine. You’ve got this.

“Oh, professor, a word?” His voice floats into the hallway right as you’re passing his door. Are you fucking kidding? You turn to see him sitting at his desk, head down, writing something. He doesn’t even look up at you. Prick.

“Yes?” you ask, not budging from your spot in the hall. He glances up at you over his glasses. Those fucking glasses. You want to rip them off his face and throw them out the window.

“Do you have a moment? I think we need to talk.” His voice is low and cool. Does he fucking know? There’s no way he can know.

Right?

You tentatively take a step into his office. It’s surprisingly cluttered for a man who always looks so put together, but it’s still warm and inviting. You can barely see the walls for being covered corner to corner in bookshelves full to bursting. He’s got a big mahogany desk in the middle of the room - significantly nicer than the university-issued one. It’s covered in stacks of papers, books, weird little knick knacks; it’s amazing how he’s able to get anything done on it. There are two chairs facing his desk, much like yours, but a rich plush velvet instead of a scratchy cotton weave. He’s got a scent diffuser somewhere, giving the room an aroma like an earthy spiced tea.

“Have a seat,” he says, gesturing to the cushy red chairs across from him. You stand there, clutching your bag, staring at him like a deer in the headlights. When he realizes you’re not going to sit, he gets up and crosses over to the door.

“Do you mind if I close this? It’s… a bit embarrassing,” he asks with a crooked smile. You can feel the heat in your cheeks rising. Your mouth goes dry and you try to swallow the lump forming in your throat.

There’s no way he knows.

Right?

But something compels you to nod, so he closes the door and walks back to his desk, but rather than sitting behind it, he leans back casually on the front of it. He’s taken off the blazer he usually wears and is down to just the turtleneck, sleeves pushed up just below his elbows. He crosses his arms in front of his chest as you stare, waiting.

“I wanted to… apologize. For yesterday.”

You blink at him, the conversation not going in the direction you expected. You had been so focused on yourself, that it took you a moment to realize what he was referring to.

“It was inappropriate to barge in on your meeting with your student. You were mid-instruction, and I needn’t have inserted myself into your conversation.” He leaned back on his hands, stretching out his lean figure to impossible proportions. The grip on your bag slackened and you couldn’t help but drag your gaze over the length of his body. He looks at you quizzically.

“I get the sense that you don’t very much like me,” he muses.

Now it’s his turn to give you the once-over, and you feel practically naked before him the way he looks at you. “Then again,” he adds, and pushes himself off his desk. He slowly advances toward you, though whether like someone approaching a vicious beast or a predator stalking its prey, it’s unclear. You retreat while holding his gaze until your back is flush against the door.

No escape now.

He gets precariously close to you and takes an unsettling whiff. When he speaks again, his voice is a husky growl.

“I think it’s entirely possible you like me… quite a bit.” He’s got at least a half foot on you, and he looks down on you with heavy-lidded eyes. The heat in your face has fully reached the tips of your ears now, and your breath comes out ragged.

“I’m sure I-” you start, but it comes out thick and raspy. You clear your throat and try again. “I’m sure I don't know what you mean,” you finally manage with all of the composure you can muster. He cocks an eyebrow at you, then slowly takes off those infuriating glasses.

“No? Then perhaps I’m mistaken, and your heart rate hasn’t increased by approximately 20 beats per second in the past few minutes.” His eyes continue boring into you. “And maybe that smell between your legs is completely unrelated.”

An undignified splutter comes out of you as you press your thighs closer together. He takes a half step back to let you respond.

“If I am indeed mistaken, then I’ve said my peace and you’re free to go.” The seductive honey is gone from his voice, and in its place is a politely professional tone. You fully feel that he’s giving you an out, that you can both laugh on this as an embarrassing moment and neither will bring it up ever again.

But on the other hand…

“You’re not mistaken,” you choke out in a whisper. The lazy smile is back and he lifts your chin with his index finger.

“What was that? Speak up.” His command weakens your knees and you wither under his gaze.

“You’re not wrong,” you say more boldly, trying to meet his energy. His smile broadens, and for the first time you notice two pointy fangs slip out beneath his upper lip.

Fucking

vampire??

That explains how he could track your heartbeat, and even more his ridiculously keen sense of smell. Doesn’t make it any less humiliating.

“No, I don’t suppose I am,” he snarls and suddenly he’s kissing you roughly, hands twisting in your hair and one knee sliding up between your legs. He pushes you against the door and lifts you off your feet slightly. You’re desperate just to keep up as he devours you, hands weakly grasping at his hips, shoulders, neck. But he’s fully in control of the kiss, and after a moment you let him take you.

He breaks the kiss but doesn’t pull away, and you’re both breathing heavily, air cycling between your lungs. Your head feels full of a thick fog and you can’t fully see straight. His hands are still in your hair, tight but not pulling - yet. You get the sense that might not last long.

He drops to his knees and you nearly double over from the sudden lack of support. He runs his nose and lips across the hem of your black denim skirt, inhaling again. Your fingers lace into his hair, but not even remotely in the dominant way from your fantasy. At this point you’re just trying not to collapse.

He looks up at you, flashing another fang-bearing grin. His hand slips up your skirt and his thumb runs across your pussy, barricaded by your sheer tights and panties.

“Darling, you’re positively soaked,” he hums contentedly. “You’d have a hard time hiding this from anyone.” You bite your lower lip, trying to keep the needy whines at bay. But when he fiercely rips the crotch of your tights and presses the flat of his tongue against the drenched gusset, you can’t stop the cry from escaping your throat. He sucks lasciviously, the debauched slurping noise ringing in your ears. Your knees buckle and he grabs hold of your hips, hiking your skirt up to your waist to get better access to your dripping cunt.

He stands and kisses you again, the taste of you lingering on

his lips. He grabs your ass and digs his fingers into your flesh, spreading them until you gasp into his kiss. In one fluid motion he sweeps up your legs and wraps them around his waist, carrying you over to that incredible mahogany desk.

He plops you down on the hardwood and you hear books and papers tumbling onto the floor behind you. He presses his bulge into your mound, this time the sound of both of your moans mingling pleasingly. He tears at your chiffon button down, trailing hungry kisses down your chest as you throw your head back in pleasure. He makes quick work of fully removing your top, though you’re certain he sacrificed some buttons in the process. You hardly care as you paw wantonly at the back of his neck, desperate for him to get his lips onto every single inch of you. He pulls the lace cup of your bra down with his teeth and starts sucking on your nipple, pressing his hand into the small of your back. You arch into him, his hands working you like a soft clay.

So much for the pleading mess that you pictured last night. Instead, you’re the one who's been reduced to shambles, begging for satisfaction.

“Puh-please,” you stutter, and those devilish eyes lock onto yours again. He snakes his way back up your chest and bites your lower lip.

“Puh-please what?” he mocks your stammering, but makes up for it when he rolls his hips forward, dragging that delicious hardness against you. You squirm, trying to pull him closer but he’s got your arms locked in his grip. His lips leave yours and ghost over the flesh of your neck. He very gently scrapes his fangs across your jugular, eliciting a ghoulish moan from you in return. By all the gods, you hadn’t even considered that as a part of it. His movement made it clear that he won’t bite unless you want him to.

But holy hells do you want him to.

“Gods Astarion,” you gasp, and you swear you can feel his cock twitch at the sound of his own name. “Fuck me then bite me, or the other way around I don’t care, but please get in me!” The string of words almost sounds foreign to your own ears, but you’re well beyond the point of trying to sound clever. In an instant, he’s undone his belt buckle and his erection springs forth, bouncing and already dripping precum. He roughly shoves your panties to the side and sinks his cock and teeth into you simultaneously, drawing out your cry of both pain and pleasure. You wrap your legs and arms around him, trying to pull him in deeper. You can feel his mouth filling up with your hot blood just as your cunt fills up with his dick.

You’re panting as you grow more lightheaded, clinging to his neck. Unthinkingly, your fingers stroke his ears, playing with those tiny silver hoops. He lurches and pulls away from your neck, looking absolutely feral with your blood dripping down his chin, which only sets you off more. You angle your hips toward him, trying to get him to start thrusting into you. He pushes your back down onto the desk and hooks his elbows beneath your knee high boots. Then he starts pounding into you properly, and you feel like you’re close to losing it. You grab onto the edge of the desk as he revs up his pace, his cock stretching you out as he keeps your legs close to your ears. You can feel the heat mounting in your core and you know it won’t be long before you come. But at this point you’re just trying to hold on for dear life.

“Fuck, gods, Astarion, I’m-” You finish before your sentence does. He doesn’t relent as the orgasm wracks your body, if anything, he fucks you harder. Just as you’ve barely come down off your climax, he pulls out and yanks you off the desk, spins you around and pushes your face down into the smooth mahogany, warmed from where you had just been. He enters you again, this time from behind, and already you’re working your way up to a second one. Your bare tits squish against the polished surface and he grabs your hair, pulling your head up and arching your back into him.

For the first time you notice the mirror on the opposite wall across from his desk. But rather than both of you, you only see yourself, disheveled and well-fucked, lips swollen from his abuse. Your hair is pulled up by an invisible force behind you. Another unexpected aspect of vampire fucking.

You desperately wish you could see his face because you can feel his thrusts getting more uneven and erratic. You try to turn to get a glimpse of him, but his grip on your hair remains tight. But even if you can’t see him, you can hear him, his grunts and the low string of incoherent swears pouring out of his mouth. The sound of him getting lost in you is enough, and your own moans start building and mixing with his, an utter symphony of epicurism.

His hips give a few more broken thrusts and you can feel his climax, setting off yours. The throbs of his cock match those wracking your cunt, and you hold onto the edge of the desk as the waves wash over you. Once they’ve come to an end he pulls out, and you can feel his semen dripping out of the sudden emptiness and running down your leg. You quietly say a thankful prayer for your IUD.

You’re both panting as he collapses onto your back, planting a half-hearted kiss on your spine. You weakly push yourself up off the desk and see the devastation of papers, smears and fluids. You turn yourself around and relish in his appearance. Your blood is splattered on his fine cream sweater, his usually perfectly coiffed curls damp and sticking to his forehead. You reach up and wipe the remainder of your blood off his chin. He smirks and kisses you, significantly more gently this time.

“That was good,” you murmur through steadying breaths, “but next time, keep the fucking glasses on.”

#astarion #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate fanfiction #astarion ancunin #astarion smut #baldurs gate smut #fanfiction #smut #professor astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x you #office hours

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evansbby · 2 years

Text

➳❥ 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dark!Lloyd Hansen x innocent!Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, dubcon, noncon, dark, minors dni, daddy kink, age gap - reader is early 20s, Lloyd is late 30s, coercion, dark Lloyd taking advantage of super innocent reader, like seriously reader is very innocent, corruption kink, babying, extreme dumbification, dd/lg undertones, mention of gun, use of gun in sexual context, choking, spitting, kidnapping, dacryphilia, loss of virginity, blood mention, killing mention, manipulation, gaslighting

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Lloyd promises to let you go, but he demands a depraved repayment. (In other words: Lloyd pops your cherry).

𝐀/𝐍: This is really fucking depraved. Please, please be warned.

“My dad’s gonna come for me!” You burst out tearfully, tiny fists clenching at your sides and nails digging into your palms, “H-He loves me! And… And I’m not scared of you!”

Lloyd yawns, “Honey, this whole heroic act was cute two days ago. But now you’re just boring me.”

“N-Not acting!” You lie, jutting your chin up and hoping he can’t see how your hands shake and lower lip wobbles. Your dad had always taught you to be brave in the face of evil. And the man sat in front of you, with his neatly trimmed moustache and perfectly styled hair; his elegant white pants and tight black turtleneck that showed off every ridge of muscle on his body…

This man was definitely the face of evil.

“As I said, boring.” Lloyd practically sing-songs, crossing one leg over the other, his blue eyes gazing at you from where you sit on the bed with the pink satin sheets. “Why don’t you try a different schtick, sunshine? Maybe be a bit bratty? Gimme a reason to rough you up a bit before I send the videos to your father?”

Brows knotting together in confusion, a pout forms on your lips, “What videos?”

Lloyd can’t help his gleeful smile, “You’ll see.”

He gets up from the gilded armchair that he usually sits on when he comes to ‘visit’ you, making his way over to the four-poster princess bed where you sit cross-legged. The whole room that he’s put you in is soft, pink hues with gold accents – admittedly the prettiest room you’ve ever lived in. You’re thankful Lloyd didn’t throw you into a dark, scary basement when he kidnapped you – but that doesn’t mean you don’t want to leave.

Dad’s gonna come for me, you assure yourself.

But right now, it’s just Lloyd (and the guards stationed outside your room). Your captor casually walks towards you, twirling his gun in his hand in a way that makes you cringe in fear. He smirks when you exhale sharply, your eyes widening when the brunet takes a seat next to you on the pretty satin sheets.

“Why, honey. You’re hurting my feelings – I thought you said you weren’t scared of me.”

You swallow harshly, “N-Not scared!”

“Then why are you shuffling away from me like a kicked puppy?” Lloyd licks his lips, suddenly grabbing your calf and dragging you over to him. He’s so much bigger than you, so much stronger too – with those muscles that bulge out of the tight shirts he wears. You squeal in pure fear as places you neatly on his lap, arms encircling around you.

“Shhh, baby. Just shut that pretty mouth up for me, okay? I need to tell you something.”

Immediately, you clamp your mouth shut, sitting rigid against him while he strokes your hair. You’d never tell him this – but he’s the scariest man you’ve ever met. In the two days that you’ve known him – from when he stole into your bedroom in the dead of the night and took you up until now – you’ve seen many different sides of him. He can go from soft to insane in two seconds flat, and you’ve even seen him kill people.

“M-My dad said we shouldn’t play with guns.” You can’t help but point out when you see Lloyd continuously twirling his loaded gun with his fingers. And he’s doing it so dangerously close to you, as if he doesn’t care at all if he accidentally hits the trigger.

Lloyd snorts, “That’s because your dad’s too busy playing with his tiny dick, sunshine.”

You gasp at his crassness, and the older man can’t help but laugh at the expression on your face.

“God, you’re a little airhead, aren’t you? Makes me almost sad about what I’m gonna say next.”

Ears perking up at his words, you shuffle around on his lap until you’re facing him, blinking up at him shyly and waiting for him to speak.

“I’ve decided I’m going to let you go.”

Elation fills your trusting heart, and you bounce up and down in his lap in excitement, not noticing the way he suppresses a growl and steadies you with his large hands on your hips. “Really? Oh, Mr. Hansen, thank you!”

“Yes, sunshine. Thank me indeed. Turns out your father’s useless, and by extension, that makes you useless. And do you know what I do with useless people, baby?”

Eyes wide as saucers, you shake your head.

“I kill them.”

You’re suddenly hyper-aware of the loaded gun in his hand, the one he so callously plays with all the time. Blood running cold, you gulp up at him, “B-B-But…”

“Shhh, baby.” He presses his finger against your lips. “You didn’t let me finish. I’m feeling nice today, honey. So instead of killing you, I’m going to let you go. Isn’t that nice of me?”

He’s giving you whiplash with his words, but you nod quickly, “Y-Yeah! My mom says to always see the good in people, so I think you’re being really nice, Mr. Hansen. Thank you! When do I get to leave?”

Lloyd almost moans out loud at your innocence, digging his boner up into your ass while you blink up at him, so deliciously unaware of his intentions.

“Now sunshine, don’t get too ahead of yourself.” Lloyd clicks his tongue, finger tracing shapes on your bare thigh – you’re still in your little pink nightie that you were wearing when he kidnapped you. “I’m doing you a huge favour here. In fact, I’ve done a lot of favours for you in the past two days, wouldn’t you say so?”

“Huh?”

“Aw, you’re a dumb little baby, aren’t you?” He chucks you under the chin, loving how goddamn innocent you look, how your perfect little lips form the shape of an ‘o’, how you look like you’re hanging on to his every word, “I kept you in this pretty room instead of the scary basement, I gave you food and a soft princess bed to sleep in, didn’t I?” He pinches the flesh of your thigh when you don’t reply, “Didn’t I?”

“Ow– Yes! Yes, you did!” You cry out.

“So then it’s only fair that you repay me before I let you go.” Lloyd is vary casual with his words, making it sound like this repayment is so painfully obvious. He’s playing with the strap of your nightie now, pushing the silky strap down your bare shoulder and making you shiver.

“I… I guess so.” You’re confused, but your dad has told you in the past that if someone does something nice for you, then it’s always a good idea to repay them for their kindness. And although you’ve seen Lloyd scream at the guards and his other men (as well as maybe shoot a few people), he’s never really been mean to you. You sit up straight, nodding your head as you feel a bit more confident. In fact, you’re sure your dad would be proud of you for how you’re negotiating like an adult right now, “Okay, Mr. Hansen. What kind of repayment would you like?”

The corner of Lloyd’s mouth curls up, his large hands rubbing up and down your arms in a way that has you feeling kind of light-headed and warm, “Call me daddy, sunshine.”

“What? But you’re not my dad!” You giggle softly, not understanding why you’ve suddenly got this throbbing feeling between your legs. And it only seems to increase when his hand slips down, now casually playing with the lacey hem of your nightie.

“But I took care of you, kept a roof over your head these past two days, and also kept you fed, didn’t I? That means I’m your daddy.” Lloyd says it slowly, as if he’s speaking to a toddler.

You mull over his words, “I guess that makes sense…”

The brunet runs a hand over his perfectly styled hair, trying not to get too excited over the fact that he really has lucked the fuck out, a sweet-looking broad with a head as empty as yours sitting pretty in his lap, believing every single word that comes out of his mouth. It’s almost too good to be true.

“It makes perfect sense, cupcake. You’re just a dumb baby, so maybe things aren’t so clear in your head. But a man who takes care of his girl is known as daddy. So, you better call me that from now on.” He trails the muzzle of his gun against your bare skin with an air of indifference that makes you whimper softly.

“O-Okay, daddy.”

Lloyd almost moans out loud when he hears you say it, his pants now uncomfortably tight and he wonders just how much of an airhead you are to not notice his hard fucking dick right underneath your ass.

“Now honey, I want you to listen carefully to what I say next. Because this is how you’re gonna repay me before I let you go.”

He takes your hand; your tiny, dainty little hand, and squarely presses it down on his hard crotch. And it’s almost music to his ears when you gasp, snatching your hand back in record time.

“I can’t touch you there! That’s your… thing!”

“Oh princess, you’re allowed to touch your daddy’s cock. It’s only natural.” There’s something about the lull in Lloyd’s tone, this soft, velveteen quality of his voice, that makes you want to listen to him. Plus, your curiosity gets the best of you, because you’ve never touched a man’s thing before… Slowly, you replace your hand on his crotch, gasping when he thrusts up into your palm.

“Daddy, why is it so hard?”

Lloyd’s played with dumb little girls like you before – so none of this is new to him. But it’s also safe to say that none of those other girls were quite as innocent and lovely as you, with your wide eyes and open mouth, gaping down at his dick as if it’s about to come alive and eat you.

“Honey, this is where your repayment comes in.” He grabs your hand once more, making you stroke his clothed dick slowly, “Daddy’s cock is sick, that’s why it’s so hard. And only you can help me fix it and make it soft again.”

“Only me?” You echo prettily, looking scared and honoured at the same time.

“Yes, sunshine. Despite the fact that you’re dumber than a brick, it has to be you.” With one hand holding yours and making you stroke him, he uses his other hand to brush your hair out of your face, being all deliberately tender till you’re looking up at him with shining eyes, “My dick’s so hard that it’s causing me pain. And you don’t want your daddy to be in pain, do you? Specially when I kept you so safe and comfortable during your stay with me?”

Again, you mull over his words. Lloyd could have thrown you in the basement or one of his torture chambers where he took the other bad guys (you’d heard the guards talking about it once). But no, he’d kept you in this pretty pink bedroom with the soft satin bed and fuzzy carpet. Lloyd was nice, so it wasn’t fair that he was in pain.

You nod slowly, “Okay, daddy. I’ll help you with your pain.” And then you pout, “But I don’t know how!”

He repositions you in his lap so that you’re straddling him, your knees on either side of him and the hem of your nightie running high, your pantie-covered crotch flush against his, making heat rise to your cheeks. You’ve never been in such an intimate position with a man before. But Lloyd is your daddy, and he’s a nice man and he’s going to let you go, so you will yourself not to be scared.

He cocks his gun, pointing the muzzle of it right between your breasts where the neckline of your nightie dips. You inhale sharply as he leisurely trails it down, leaving goosebumps in your wake as you feel the weapon slide down your body. All the way down to between your legs – the source of all the throbbing – and he presses his gun against your private place, making you jolt with a surprising thrill that courses through your veins.

“Do you know what this is called, sunshine?” He asks softly.

You gulp – of course you know! You’re a big girl, after all. “Y-Yeah, daddy. That’s my vagina. But I’m not allowed to have anyone touch me there. My dad said he’d kill whoever even tried.”

“Cupcake, your dad’s a fuckin’ tool.” Lloyd flexes his arm suddenly, pressing his gun against your core and you convulse from the contact. “Now, little girls like you can’t use the word vagina. That’s an adult word. Babies like you need to say princess parts, got it?”

Princess parts. That sounded pretty, and you’ve been living in this pink princess room with a princess bed and princess sheets, so it only makes sense; so you nod in agreement.

“Princess parts.” You say softly, liking how it rolls off your tongue, “I like that, daddy.”

“Of course, you do, sweet sunshine.” Lloyd smirks, gun still cocked between your legs while his other hand slips behind you, unzipping your nightie slowly. “Now, do your little princess parts ever get creamy, baby?”

Creamy? You widen your eyes in alarm – how could he possibly know?! Gulping, your hand freezes on top of his clothed dick and you bite your lip, ducking your head down in shame.

“I… I do get wet down there sometimes.” You confess, because Lloyd said he’s your daddy and surely, he won’t tell anyone. “But it’s not pee, I swear it’s not, daddy!”

Lloyd licks his lips like he’s the big bad wolf; and honestly, he might as well be with how he plans to take advantage of your innocence. Having unzipped your nightie all the way down, he lifts your straps and slips them down your arms. You’re too mortified over how he knows about your princess parts getting wet that you don’t even notice him doing it.

“Tell me how you got wet.” He orders you simply, a look of almost unrestrained lust on his face, “And you better tell me the truth, or else I’ll change my mind about letting you go.”

You squirm, “Well… Please don’t tell anyone, but once I was watching this movie on TV, and it had a…uh… a scene in it. A dirty scene.” Scrunching your eyes shut, you can’t help but replay the scene in your mind, the actor so handsome and ripped – although not even close to as handsome and ripped as Lloyd is. “And I know I should’ve turned it off, but I was curious.”

Lloyd’s thumb brushes against your bare nipple, dick so unimaginably hard underneath you at your innocent story, and also because he’s now got you topless on top of him and you haven’t even noticed. God, you’re so fucking dumb and it makes him so fucking hard.

“Th-Then I had this strong urge to go pee, but when I got up, there was a wet spot on the couch. And my p-panties were all wet too!” You lament, and you can’t help but bury your face in Lloyd’s strong and sturdy shoulder, embarrassed because a man as sophisticated as him shouldn’t have had to hear such a stupid, shameful story.

“Oh, honey,” Lloyd coos, humping up against you because he knows you’re too distraught to notice. “You’re such a dumb little baby, not even recognising your own princess cream.”

You hiccup, blinking up at him with huge doe eyes, “P-Princess cream?”

“Yes, sunshine. Princess cream. Babies like you get all wet and drippy down there with princess cream, and you’re meant to gift this cream to your daddies to make them feel better. Everyone knows that.”

You nod, finally understanding him, “Is that how your… thing… is gonna feel better? With my cream?”

Lloyd taps your cheek condescendingly, “Guess your head’s not completely empty after all.”

And that’s how you find yourself lying down on your princess bed, the satin sheets so soft underneath you as a man almost double your age hovers over you, taking your nightie off and leaving you clad in only your little pink panties.

“You know, sunshine, after you’re done helping daddy here, we can go into my room. I’ve got a huge TV, and we can watch all the dirty movies your little heart desires.” Lloyd is feeling nice after your little confession. Not so nice as to not take advantage of you, but nice enough.

“Okay, daddy, that sounds– Hey! Aren’t you gonna take me home after this?”

Lloyd chuckles, choosing to ignore you as he surveys your almost nude body, how it quivers so prettily. Rolling your hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he then brings your hand over to his pants once more, “Unzip me, baby. Daddy’s dick’s hurting a lot.”

You take a deep breath, not knowing where this is going but knowing that you want to help your daddy because he’s going to let you go after this and you’re so super thankful for that. Fingers shakily taking hold of his zipper, you undo his fly with baited breath and a thumping heart.

Lloyd’s eyes are so dark, it looks like he’s about to eat you up. “Take it out, baby. Take daddy’s dick out.”

Biting your lip in concentration, you think about when you’re in pain. Like the time you tripped and fell down the stairs when you were younger. You’d twisted your ankle and it had hurt a lot. It’s sad to think that Lloyd is hurting like that now, and you’d help just about anyone to stop them from hurting.

Your eyes widen when you pull his cock out, because your fingers don’t even fully wrap around it. He’s thick like a soda can, and long too. And so, so hard. Angry and red looking, with veins running down the side. You wonder if all men are as big as he is, or if he’s special.

“So… So big, daddy.”

Lloyd can’t help but stroke your cheek, “Take your panties off, sweetie. Can you do that for me?”

He sounds so soft and nice, voice so beguiling that you don’t think twice in obeying. But maybe it’s because you’re so distracted by the darkness in his eyes, by his handsome face so close to you, by his dick that scares you every time you sneak a glance at it… But you’re slow in tugging your panties down, and Lloyd taps you harshly on the cheek.

“Faster, you dumb fucking baby. Unless you want me to hurt you.” He gestures towards his gun which rests on the satin bedsheet next to you. You don’t understand why he’s kept it so close – it’s so scary and you hate it, but the threat works. Tugging your panties off, you go to hand them to him but he shakes his head.

“No, baby. Wrap your pretty panties around your hand and then hold my dick.”

His instructions are clear, but you still look up at him dumbly, “H-Huh?”

Lloyd rolls his eyes, patience running thin. All he really wants to do is shove his dick up your virgin pussy but he knows half the fun is building up to it. “It’ll help with the pain, sweetie. You wouldn’t understand because you’re too dumb. But don’t fucking question your daddy again.”

The satin of your panties and your soft, hesitant fingers feel like heaven around Lloyd’s dick. His own calloused hand grabs onto yours, moving your palm up and down on his big dick until you get the hang of it and don’t need his help anymore. And fuck, he doesn’t know where to look now because your tiny hand on his fat dick makes him want to bust a nut, but the look of determination on your face gets him going too.

“Is your pain getting better, daddy?”

He grunts, “Slightly, baby. But the real pain relief is inside your princess parts.” Licking his lips, he gives his next order: “Spread your legs, dumb baby. Wider. Wider, I said.”

You yelp when he slaps your inner thigh hard, pussy glistening and on display for him as you spread your legs as wide as they’ll go. And now it’s like Lloyd can’t restrain himself – how can he when there’s a five-course fucking meal about two inches away from him? All quivering and wet and untouched?

Quickly, he shoves your hand and panties off his dick, replacing it with his own as he brings his dick up to your wet folds. And you suck in a breath when his tip glides against your slit, up and down, making shivers run up and down your lower body, and you jolt upwards to create more friction.

“Ah– daddy, that feels funny!”

Lloyd’s no longer in the mood to humour you, it’s like he’s reached his quota of niceness for the day and now he just wants to get his fucking dick wet with virgin pussy. The thought makes him salivate – he hasn’t had a virgin since his days at Harvard, and never one as sweet and naïve as you.

“Shut up,” He breathes, leaning down till his chest is flush against your breasts, one hand easily trapping both your wrists above your head. He aims the tip of his dick against your clit, nudging the sensitive bundle of nerves and loving how you gasp. God, virgins were just too easily excitable.

“Oh, daddy! D-Do that again, maybe?”

That makes Lloyd bark out a laugh. “Naughty baby, you’re meant to be helping daddy out, not giving me demands.”

You hang your head in shame, “S-Sorry, daddy. I just can’t h-help it sometimes! My princess parts feel so tingly. J-Just wanna touch more– ah!” Something feral takes over you, and you reach down to grab his dick, positioning it in front of your leaking hole as if you really can’t help yourself.

Lloyd almost busts a nut right then and there, but he has enough willpower to smack your hand away, laughing when you pout and begin to cry.

“Don’t know what’s happening to me, daddy! Wanna feel you more! Feels like I’ll die if I don’t!”

He loves how prettily you cry, how you want to say you’re turned on but you can’t find the words to explain how you’re feeling. The tears welling in your eyes make him even harder and your soft cries are music to his ears.

“You ready to end daddy’s pain now, sunshine?” He asks you, leaning over you and a strand of his perfectly styled hair breaks free, brushing against your forehead. And oh my gosh, if he isn’t the most handsome man you’ve seen in the whole world! Like the heroes in the movies, or in those romance novels your mother is always reading.

“I’m ready, daddy!” You confirm, unknowingly bucking your hips upwards to meet his hard dick. But when he pushes his dick inside your hole, you gasp and push at his chest almost immediately. “D-Daddy, this is… this is sex. We’re gonna have sex?”

Lloyd really can’t believe how dumb you truly are, he gazes at you incredulously, and you bite your lip again.

“You said you would help me, sunshine. You can’t go back on your word now.”

“I’m not! I’m not!” You swear, “It’s just… I’m not supposed to have sex until I’m married. But I really want to, daddy. I wanna help you and I wanna have sex with you – I just don’t want my parents to be mad!”

Lloyd’s bored now. In fact, he’d grown bored a good five minutes ago. Maybe he could tell the guards outside to get him some ductape so he can shut your fucking mouth once and for all while he has his way with you. Or he could drug you. But then he wouldn’t be able to hear your pretty gasps and cries when he finally pops your cherry.

Decisions, decisions.

“Look, honey. I’m gonna fuck you now – whether you like it or not.” Lloyd gets straight to the point, “So unless it’s to moan and beg for my dick, I’d suggest you shut your fucking mouth.”

You pout – why is he being so mean? Isn’t Lloyd meant to be nice and caring like how he said all daddies are? You decide it’s probably because he’s in pain. Oh! His pain! You’d completely forgotten that you were doing this to help ease his pain, and you mentally kick yourself for being so selfish.

“I’m sorry, daddy,” You say pitifully, but Lloyd’s too busy fondling your breasts, leaning down to lick around your nipple before taking the hard nub into his mouth and giving it a noisy suck. And the simple action has you squealing in pleasure and excitement before he stops and gives you a wolfish grin.

“Okay, sunshine. I’m in a good mood so we’ll take this nice and slow, okay?” You nod happily and he continues, “I want you to count up till five. Can you do that, honey? Can your little baby brain count up till five?”

“Y-Yes.” You squeak, “One, two, thr– OW, OH MY, AH, AH, AH! DADDY!”

Lloyd doesn’t give a shit if he’s being cruel, but he’s not about to ease his dick into you when your drippy, tight cunt is right there in front of him. Which is why, in one hard and unforgiving thrust, his pistons his fat dick into your virgin pussy, ignoring the tightness that tries to squeeze him back out.

“God fucking damn,” He grunts, because your tight walls are squeezing him like a vice, “Goddamn this fucking baby cunt, fuck!”

And you’re crying and crying, chest heaving and limbs flailing at the intrusion. He’s so big, so, so, so big. How has he managed to fit inside of you? It’s the worst pain imaginable – and it’s indescribable how full you feel. So full of Lloyd’s girthy, fat dick – the only dick you’ve seen, the only dick that’s ever been inside of you.

“Hurts!” You cry, “Hurts so bad!”

Lloyd couldn’t give less of a shit if it hurts for you – because it feels fucking amazing for him. But seeing your eyes scrunched shut and tears dripping down your cheeks, he can’t help but lick up your face, gathering the salty tears on his tongue and groaning with pleasure as he bottoms out inside of you.

“Open those eyes, sunshine.” He says softly against your lips, “Open those eyes and cry harder for me. Like a fuckin’ baby. Daddy loves that shit.”

“Y-You said… You said…” You choke back tears, tiny hands gripping at his bulging biceps, and Lloyd can’t help but laugh at your broken voice, “You said to count till f-five!”

“I did? Oh, sunshine, I guess I lied.” Lloyd’s barely even paying attention to you, his gaze shifting down to where you two meet. He pulls his dick out of you slowly, savouring your tightness and moaning internally when he sees his dick coated in your cream and your virgin blood. Fuck, if that ain’t the prettiest thing he’s ever seen…

“Not nice!” You sob harder, bracing yourself when he pushes back into you. And it hurts all over again, you just can’t wrap your head around how big he is, “Ah, why are you be-being so mean?”

Lloyd doesn’t bother answering your dumb question, instead grinding his hips down before pulling out and slamming back in. Grabbing your thigh, he pins it above his shoulder, giving himself a better angle to fuck you. And he thanks his lucky stars that he didn’t use a condom, because fucking your baby cunt bare is nothing short of heavenly.

And he’s not completely opposed to the idea of knocking you up either.

“My dumb little baby,” Lloyd coos, cupping your face in his hands, “How does it feel to finally get fucked? I bet your old dad would be so proud of you, huh? Fucking his worst enemy because you think I’m gonna let you go after this.”

You shake your head, focusing on Lloyd’s navy eyes that are both so beautiful and so cruel. His pale skin smattered with scars from old battles, his strong, bumped nose and full pink lips. His moustache that tickles your face when he leans down over you.

“Daddy,” you cry out softly, dull thrill rippling throughout your body as he continues to thrust into you, the tip of his dick hitting a certain part inside you that has you gasping with pleasure. “Oh, daddy, still hurts but… f-feels all tingly again!”

“I’ll bet it fucking does,” He growls, picking up his pace and going into full jackhammer mode, wanting to see your cunt all messy and ruined, suddenly wanting to wreck you and ruin you for anyone else. Not that there was going to be anyone else getting between your legs. “Baby, say this is daddy’s pussy.”

“Th-This is daddy’s pussy!” You cry, all thoughts quickly leaving your mind except for Lloyd – his arms, his body, his dick, him. “Nngh, ugh! Daddy!”

There’s this pressure building up inside your lower belly, and every time his dick hits that spot inside you, the pressure mounts up further. You gasp when Lloyd forces your mouth open, spitting on your panting tongue and smirking when you look up at him in fear mixed with lust, his saliva sitting pretty inside your mouth.

“Swallow it.”

You do as he orders you, completely submissive and slowly going dumb for him. God, it’s the prettiest sight in the world, you being so docile even when he’s fucking you so roughly despite it being your first time.

“Tell me you love my spit. Ask daddy to spit in your mouth again.” Lloyd grunts out over the lewd sound of his balls slapping against you with each hard thrust.

“L-Love your spit, please spit in my mouth again, daddy!” You beg him, and God, you sound so needy. Lloyd reaches out to pat your cheek, loving when your head lolls to the side. You’re gone. Fucked completely dumb and he’s barely even started.

Using his thumb and forefinger to pry your drooling mouth open, he once again spits, and then again. The first lands straight in your mouth again and you swallow like an obedient baby. The next glob of saliva lands on your cheek, and God, you look so messy. So messy and slutty yet innocent at the same time. Fuck. Lloyd wants to devour you.

Hand slipping down, he swats your ass once, twice, three times. The harsh smacking jolts you back into reality, and now you’re screaming in earnest. Your little princess bed is rickety underneath you, the headboard banging noisily against the wall as Lloyd fucks the living daylights out of you. Your pleasure is building up with each slam of his dick, his tip hitting your cervix and making you cry out his name needily.

“Yes, baby, give daddy your cream,” Lloyd finds himself coaxing you, his fingers wrapping around your pretty little throat and loving how you squeeze around his dick when he does that, “Mm, you’re a fuckin’ depraved little baby, aren’t you? You like it when daddy chokes you, huh?”

You let out incoherent gurgles and pleas, humping upwards to meet his thrusts as your eyes slowly begin to roll to the back of your head. “L-Like it, daddy! Don’t know – ah – don’t know why, but I like it – OOH, DADDY! FEELS TINGLY, FEELS SO – AH!”

Lloyd loves the look of pure bliss and confusion on your face when you clench around him and give him your first ever orgasm. He really loves the power trip that comes with the fact that he’s given you your first ever feeling of such intense pleasure, and you’ve squirted around his dick. He pins your hips down as your limbs flail uncontrollably, fresh tears in your eyes and moaning like a broken record player: “oh, daddy, daddy, daddy!”

“God, so fuckin’ tight, sweet baby,” Lloyd hisses, feeling his balls tighten, “Squeezing daddy so good, aren’t you? God, I love your fuckin’ baby cunt and how it swallows daddy’s fat dick. Little fuckin’ virgin cunt all messy and ruined, fuck! Make a mess on my dick, you little cry baby. Fuck!”

One hand gripping his bicep and the other fisting the pink satin sheets underneath you, you come undone in what is the most earth-shattering orgasm you’ve ever had. It’s also the only orgasm you’ve ever had, and you scream so loud, his name on the tip of your tongue, “Oh, daddy! Oh my God, oh my God, OH MY GOD!”

“Not God, you dumb baby, just me.” Lloyd slaps your breast before squeezing it hard. With an almighty grunt, he releases inside of you. Filling you with his hot, searing cum, ropes and ropes of it, so thick and making you feel so full. You feel it inside your very depths, claiming you, making his mark on your body.

With a shudder, he collapses on top of your weak body, and you’re so frail and spent, breathing hard and eyes glassy like you’re about to pass out. You can’t even form a single thought, all you can feel is your body shaking from the remnants of your powerful orgasm, and Lloyd’s cum which doesn’t even fit inside you, dripping out lewdly from your used fuckholes and onto your princess sheets.

“My baby, all mine,” Lloyd croons, kissing up your neck and pecking your lips, “Can’t believe how easy it was to pop your cherry.”

You blink, completely dazed and unable to form any words, just gaping up at him and trying your hardest not to black out. His sweet kisses trail up your cheek, gathering your tears along the way.

“And you know the best part, sunshine?” Your captor sings, cupping your cheek with his calloused hand, “I’m never letting you go. And guess what? Your douche of a dad is downstairs. In fact, you can say hi to him because the camera’s right there.” Lloyd twists his body slightly and points up at the red light above the dresser.

You feel your blood run cold, but you’re still too fucked out to form a sentence, “Wh-What–”

“He’s been watching us, baby.” Lloyd says proudly, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger and making you forcibly look at the camera, “Bet you didn’t think your first time would be livestreamed, did you, sunshine? Bet your dad sang like a canary once he saw his worst enemy fucking his daughter while he sits downstairs, handcuffed to a chair and completely helpless.”

Tears stream down your cheeks, but your legs are still shaking from your orgasm, and you don’t have the energy to push him off you, “H-How could you?” You cringe away from the damning red light of the camera.

“Because I can.” Lloyd answers simply, “But don’t worry, baby. It wasn’t all business. Your tight little baby cunt is something I could get used to. I think I’m gonna keep you, once I’ve questioned your dad and gotten rid of him, of course.”

He covers your face in kisses, his moustache scratching your sensitive, tear-stained cheeks as you lie underneath him, stoic and shocked.

“What do you say, sunshine? Ready to be your new daddy’s little girl?”

THE END! What do you guys think? I wrote this all today because I was rewatching some The Gray Man scenes and got super inspired! Please, please, please, feedback is so important so do tell me what you think! Please share with anyone you think might enjoy this, and any Lloyd enthusiasts! Reblogs means the world to writers, so please reblog and share! THANK YOU! ILY!

#lloyd hansen #Lloyd hansen x reader #chris evans #chris evans x reader #the gray man #chris evans fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans smut #dark lloyd hansen

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normansnt · 3 months

Text

For old times sake

Huskerdust x platonic!male!Overlord reader

Warnings: none I think

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

"Hey Husk?" Called Angel as Husk was laying oh his chest fluff on the couch cuddling.

"Hmmm" answered Husk way too comfy to get actual words out.

"How come I know so little of the time you were an overlord" Asked Angel genuinely interested. Husk knew most of Angels past, however Angel barely knew anything, especially of the time he was an overlord at a casino. Hell he didn't even know which casino it was.

Husk froze when he registered the question.

"Well...*sigh* I dont like talking about it but I trust you, so you ready to go?" Said Husk while he stood up and offered his hand to his lover.

"Where we goin'?" Asked angel smiling slightly.

"To where I was most powerful" answered Husk seriously while he and Angel walked out hand in hand.

When Angel looked at the, nicely speaking, fucking massive casino. It was the most known casino in all of hell.

"Husk, THIS is the casino you owned??" Asked Angel.

"Yup" answered that cat shortly.

"I mean are you fucking kidding me? Honey thats the biggest casino in all of hell even the Vees look at it as something to be respected and feared."

"Well it wasn't that know when it was mine, the new owner did a good job." Husk's face was emotionless as they walked in and up some stairs.

"Is...the owner the new overlord who is the demon of gambling?" Asked Angel softly, not sure how his boyfriend will react.

"He is" still emotionless Angel could not figure out how his boyfriend felt right now.

At the end of the staircase was a hall where on the other side was a door that reached the ceiling. Two guards stood outside.

"Husk should we be here?" Asked Angel worried.

Husk grasped his hand and started walking towards the door calmly.

The guards opened the door without any questions.

That surprised Angel.

As they walked they saw a gorgeous office. It looked like an office from the Victorian period just a tad bit more modern. By the desk sat a young man who was reading over some papers in his hands. You.

Angel had a hard time believing the owner of the casino was this young but the way you were dressed gave it away. You wore a black turtleneck with matching suit pants and a grey trench coat over it.

When you looked up you had a bored expression on your face.

"Husk" You said without any emotions behind your voice.

"(Y/N)"

You stood up from your chair and walked over to the cat. Angel got more nervous by the second.

All of a sudden you and Husk started smiling and you two shook hands. For Angels surprise however it was not a formal handshake. It was one that shows deep trust.

"Husk, old buddy, I haven't seen you in ages hows death?" All of a sudden you had a lively voice and smiled big at Husk.

"Ohhh Is that your boyfriend, damn how did you pull him? Is he holding you hostage?"

You asked while looking at Angel still smiling.

Husk kicked you in the shin since you were taller than him and you cried out while holding your shin.

"Fuck Husk I was joking he is just really pretty, you know, unlike you." You said still holding your shin while Husk smirked, took Angels hand and led him over to the couch that was in your office. The spider looking at you concerned.

"Well, fuck you (Y/N)" said Husk smirking and pouring himself and Angel a drink from your drink cabinet.

"Yeah, yeah whatever old timer, how can I help you guys?"

"How are you guys on such a good terms, didn't you take his power?" Angel blurted out as the confusion got the best of him.

You sat down in your chair and put your elbows on the desk pouring yourself a drink.

"Oh, I have nothing to do with him loosing power that was all good 'ol Alastor I juts got to power after he left, hell he thought me half the shit I know."

"Ahh thats bullshit you were always smarter than me"

"Well I am now thats for sure" you smirked at the cat.

"Don't get too cocky now kid." He looked at you smirking back.

"Oh, how rude of me I'm sorry and you are?" You said looking at Angel.

"I'm Angel-"

"No, I don't care for your whore name I asked for your name, everyone Important to Husk is important to me and I'm happy that he finally found someone, however impossible that sounds."

"And who are you dating (Y/N)?"

Asked back Husk with a cocky smirk.

"Shut the fuck up let your boyfriend introduce himself." You said a bit red in the face.

"Just call me Anthony" he answered with a soft smile. He could barely believe it. You owned a casino a place which depends on sucking money out of people and you are an overlord. Just how in the flying fuck were you this nice?

"Alright Anthony, Husk what do I owe the pleasure of your visit."

"Well...my boyfriend wanted to know about my past as an overlord and since you were my apprentice who better to tell him than you."

"I mean apprentice is a strong word, but yeah we beat a lot of ass by those tables that's for sure. It was due to my brains and your experience." You smiled at those memories.

"Your boyfriend here was just as insufferable as he is now so" you smiled

"Watch it kid give your elders some respect" chuckled Husk. You laughed at that.

"Yeah, talking about elders how's the red radio?" You asked.

"Ehh the same jerk he always was."

"Yeah, you know he was here recently? Wanted my soul too. Too bad I won"

"I'm not surprised kid, I knew you were going to be big with that brain of yours, you know this guy has every kind of card deck memorized that exists." Pointed at you Husk.

"Wow, I wouldn't want to play a game against you thats for sure." Said Angel astonished.

"All right now, all right now, you guys are here to talk about Husk's past not me." You chuckled with a small blush.

"I'm glad to see you again Husk" you said sincerely.

"Yeah Its nice to be back but I ain't gonna play with you no more that's for sure"

"I know I know I wont ask that of you, im happy that I see you again is all, so I rase a toast, for old times sake" you said while raising your glass.

"For old times sake" answered Husk and put his glass up.

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

Hellooo~

This is just something I wrote a long time ago but forgot to post but honestly I love it.

I think you guys can guess I'm a huge Huskerdust shipper😭

Anyways I hope yall liked it💗

#male reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin x you #hazbin hotel x male reader #male y/n #husker x angel dust #husker hazbin hotel #huskerdust #hazbin angel dust #angel x husk #angel dust hazbin hotel

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cheralith · 11 months

Text

to a heart's content — 「 single father!miguel o'hara x reader (part ii) 」

content warnings ; fem!reader, implied fem bodied!reader, use of she/her pronouns, reader wears dresses and makeup, mild violence mention

contains ; single father!miguel o'hara, boss!miguel o'hara, assistant!reader, angst, angst with some comfort, some fluff if you squint

word count ; 4.3k

notes ; at long last, here's the much waited part two! truly didn't expect the first part to blow up like it did, but i'm ever so grateful for all the support and the patience for those still here!

parts ; one two three (tba)

“Lyla, show me the nearest florist from here.”

“The nearest flower shop? That’s gonna be Business is Blooming on 27th Street—”

“27th Street?!” Miguel exclaims, his shock at the distance startling him and making his hands accidentally tighten the belt he was fixing much too tightly. He lets out a strangled choking sound and quickly loosens it before his legs lose oxygen, a feat that he’d hate to do just minutes prior to an event that could possibly change his life for the better. “That’s at least fifteen minutes away and on the opposite side of Clark! I’m already late, aren’t there any other ones closer?”

Lyla’s smaller holographic form pieces together on top of his full-body mirror that displays him in a formal-casual attire consisting of a cream turtleneck, black dress pants buckled with a coffee brown belt and topped altogether with a sepia overcoat that hadn’t seen the light of day since he bought it all those years ago. She puckers her grinning lips, a little amused at the rarity of Miguel in such an outfit and thinking he looks like a cup of coffee.

“Well, there’s always that crowded grocery store on Main?” she suggests as she examines her fingernails, instantly changing the pattern of them with a snap of her fingers. “But that’s gonna cost ya another twenty minutes and you’re already what—? Ten minutes late?”

Miguel fights off a groan at her teasing. “Lyla, I’m serious. Are there genuinely not any other ones around here? Any local ones? C’mon, this is Nueva York, there has to be at least one.”

“You could always try the marketplace. But then again, it’s Sunday so might not really be wise to take your chances,” Lyla shrugs.

Miguel even wonders if men these days still even have the dignity to give their partners flowers after realizing there is a significant lack of florists in today’s day and age. He wouldn’t be like them; flowers are a timeless gift everyone enjoys and he thinks if he can’t get it for you, he might as well not call himself a man at all.

His eyes go to spot the window in the reflection of the mirror where the sun is beginning to finally set and the city’s nightlife is rising from the dead. Buildings of all heights buster from every corner and the open road that eradicates much of the land dissolves a weary pit in his stomach, obviously annoyed at the many obstacles that block his path. Miguel takes another glance at the clock, the minute hand inching closer and closer and closer to 6:00. The initial plans were to leave the apartment by 5:30, acquire some gifts for you and then travel to the restaurant by 6:00, but seeing as how he’s still trapped in his abode, Miguel thinks that he can only do so much.

But he realizes that’s for Miguel O’Hara, renowned Alchemax geneticist and full-time father. Miguel O’Hara, an everyday citizen, couldn’t possibly crunch so much in such little time.

For Spider-Man, however…

Lyla eyes him suspiciously and purses her lips when Miguel looks at his wrists and then at the window again. “I don’t think that’s wise, Miguel.”

“What’s wise?” he replies coyly, going to quickly shovel off his clothes to replace them with a familiar blue and red attire.

“I know whatcha gonna do,” Lyla says and glitches around him as he searches for his suit. “But it’s not gonna end well, I’m tellin’ ya right now, mister!”

Miguel shakes her caution off, too occupied with shuffling on his superhero suit onto his body before neatly tucking his other outfit into his hammerspaced pocket. “It’ll be quick, I swear. I just need to get her some flowers and then I’ll be on my way. Lock up the house for me, yeah?”

“You’re not gonna make it,” Lyla shakes her head. “Just ditch the flowers and get her something on the way instead.”

But the last of Lyla’s words don’t make it to Miguel’s ears, as he’s already slinging and gliding himself out of the window and toward the given address of the florist. Lyla can only watch in artificial disdain as Miguel’s figure grows smaller and smaller through the passing seconds. She sighs, rolling her eyes as she flickers off the apartment lights before disintegrating.

The roar of the city life grows louder and louder the more Miguel comes closer to the center of it where the flower shop lays. People gather in clusters bustling about all over, making him a little weary of himself as he stares at them from above a high tower. He’s not exactly an ordinary passerby that can easily maneuver their way through so easily—especially not with this getup. Spider-Man is also a name that rather became widespread across the city of Nueva York, meaning that even if one person were to see the flash of blue and red, he’s up for trouble.

The evildoers tonight seem to be at cease, thankfully. He hasn’t heard of any malicious plotting or future events that will take place today by any of the supervillains that hunt him down like deer recently. Then again, there’s always smaller crimes still waiting to be stopped, but he’s sure the cops will come around for those. Miguel convinces himself it’ll just be a one time thing.

Yet when the familiar song of police sirens blare through the city, he twitches at the thought of leaving such miscreants in the hands of police when he’s sure he can take them down like an army of ten men.

But the police have ten men on them, so truly he can just leave it alone, right? He’s essentially in front of the flower shop that’s seated below an apartment building. All he has to do is just jump down, get the flowers, and leave in the nick of time. He doesn’t have time to dilly dally with low-rated criminals.

Then again, when he spots the gang of robbers in two white vans speeding down the road at a blistering speed without any caution for pedestrians, Miguel grits his teeth. On their tail is a rally of five police cars that keep gaining and losing them by the second and Miguel isn’t sure whether the irritation was from his indecisiveness or the fact that if he didn’t do anything, there will be consequences.

Perhaps do both to ease his mind? No, he can’t do that. You’re most likely on your way to the restaurant, all dolled up and fresh-faced. He still would need the time to fix himself up in some dingy public bathroom. A cop car that’s been hiding in the corner joins the chase—that’s surely more than enough to take care of them?

Miguel’s eyes go back and forth... back and forth between the two sights. Anxiety is doing little to help his situation and a mist of sweat begins to form on his skin the more the seconds tick by, making the innermost part of his suit much more uncomfortable and moist. A clock hangs by an awning nearby that displays the haunting time of 6:03 PM, just twenty-seven minutes shy of the designated 6:30 meeting time.

He glances one more time at the chase, swallowing a thick lump in his throat when he sees the vans hurdle full speed toward an open street of walking pedestrians, all ignorant of the fact to what beholds them in just mere seconds.

Miguel curses under his breath.

It’ll only be this for today, no more after that.

Fatigued eyes go to watch as the last people leave the restaurant, leaving you isolated in your little corner both embarrassed and hungry due to the heavy lack of food served on your platter for tonight. The other waiters begin to scrub the tables and booths free of crumbs and topple the chairs onto them, indicating that tonight has drawn to its close. You think you’ve memorized the entirety of the menu at this point, considering it’s really all you’ve been averting your eyes towards to avoid the looks of others.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you can see the waiters and waitresses pitifully gossiping about you and a heat flashes onto your face by how incredibly desolate you’ve looked in the past three hours. Internally, you thank them for their patience and how they’ve tolerated your excuses for your date’s tardiness-turned-absence, knowing that it must be a pain to look after someone that hadn’t even ordered anything besides water for the time she had been here.

You don’t even wait for your waitress to come to your table for the nth time tonight, going by your own initiative to pack up your things. Your phone is still devoid of any notifications from Miguel, as well, even after the four calls, occasional text checkups, and last minute voicemailed question of a needed rescheduling if he so desired.

What remains is just a grayed out Read, 7:47 PM underneath all the text bubbles.

“I… sincerely apologize if I loitered at all,” you murmur with your head half-down to the young host who shuffles the menus back into the lectern. “This was truly the last thing that I had expected from him…”

You instantly take back that statement the moment it leaves your lips. If anything, you should’ve known that this would’ve happened. Foolish you were—you’ve been with Miguel for the past three years, this was everyday behavior for him. You suppose this is how Gabriella must feel constantly and another heartache pits itself within you at the shared feeling.

The host shakes his head sympathetically. “You wouldn’t be our first case, I’m sure you didn’t have any ill intent. If anything, I’m the one sorry that he made you wait that long,” he replies with evident pity. “Whoever he is, he must be a dick for leaving such a pretty thing like you alone all night, ma’am.”

“Oh, he’s—” you fall short on your words, not even having the energy to sorely defend Miguel’s name. “Never mind…” you mutter.

“Do you need a cab?” asks the host, “Well actually, I’m about to clock out for tonight. I can drive you home, if you want. It’s the least I can do for you after tonight.”

You’re about to reply to him to turn down the offer, as you suspect he’s the type of guy to use women in these situations to his advantage, but the doors suddenly burst open to reveal the one and only in a hazy state and what seems to… flowers clutched in his hands? The petals, however, are corrugated and some have even completely drooped down from their stem. The paper that is supposed to guard them is wrinkled and torn at the corners. Almost all of the bouquet is wilted, much like your own composure for tonight.

Miguel isn’t much better. Hair and clothes a little damp, he’s frazzled and evidently guilty, as his face pales when he sees your contrasting appearance. You’re adorned in an a-lined, half-sleeved royal blue dress that made you look so regal in comparison to your daily white blouse-black pants outfit that he's seen too much of. Not to mention additional details of your styled hair and accessories just brought out the best of your beauty that was wasted on essentially nothing this evening.

“Mr. O’Hara…” you breathe when he passes through the door. The first thing that you notice automatically when his face properly comes into view is a sharply jagged, yet thin cut on the side of his cheek. “Did someth—”

“(Y/N), I’m so… so sorry,” he chokes out. “Something c-came up at work and they asked me to help them out… I’m sorry, I know I should’ve said no, but they were kind of on my ass about it and I got so caught up with it, so I wasn’t able to text you and—”

“She waited three hours,” the host drones and juts his thumb toward the dining area where all the chairs are laid atop the tables. Its lights flicker out, leaving only the foyer and smaller hallways lit so dismally in the night. “Until closing. She didn’t order anything in the meantime, so not only you left her alone tonight, you left her alone and hungry.”

“Hey listen, bud,” Miguel snaps at the host. He points a finger at him with irate in his eyes. “Not your business, so stay out of it.”

The host scoffs with a smirk on his face. “Not the first time I’ve heard that and certainly not the first time I’ve seen this happen. Guys like you always—”

You raise a hand to stop their bickering, afraid of what might happen if things escalate further as you really didn’t desire to do anything more than just sleep off your feelings. Both men stop and turn to look at you with concern on their faces.

“Do you still need that ride home?”

“Are you still hungry?”

A frustrated head shake finally silences the both of them.

“I’m fine, thank you for the offer, though,” you say quietly to the host. You turn to Miguel, who swallows at the sight of your tired eyes. “May we talk outside? I’d hate to stay here any longer than I need to.”

Miguel attempts to excuse himself one more time, but when you begin to pace yourself toward the door without waiting for him, he realizes he can’t exactly make any more decisions of his own any more this evening. Not after choosing his heroic duties again and again for tonight instead of tending to you.

The moon and stars tonight have made their presence with the special guest of light rain coming in for a visit. The whisper of a drizzle ghosts itself on your goosebumps skin and the chill of a wind nips at your flesh.

Miguel is quick to follow you. “I’m really sorry again, (Y/N),” he utters so softly that it makes your heart ache with familiarity. It’s the same tone of voice he’s used with Gabriella when at times, he wasn’t able to make it to her events or practices like he promised. “Are you still hungry by any chance? I know a good 24/7 diner that’s pretty close here.”

Without turning around, you politely shake your head and begin to search for any cabs coming your way. “I’ll be okay. I think I have some leftovers in the fridge that can suffice.”

The thought of you eating alone like he did on a night that you shouldn’t be sends shivers of guilt down Miguel’s spine. He curses himself at his past actions—deciding that it was stupid to catch those robbers who didn’t even put up much of a fight, to stop that gang brawl that was happening on the corner of 5th that was resolved the moment the elderly shopkeeper began to yell, to help that old lady that was certainly taking her sweet time to cross the street. They were such unbelievably mild crimes that he didn’t need to attend to, but did anyway even with the thought of you in mind.

Perhaps he should’ve had more faith in technology, because he’s sure Lyla was going to have much fun taunting him for the rest of the week.

“You can keep the flowers, too,” you say softly when a cab begins to pull up. “I appreciate the gesture, but I don’t think I have a vase to store them in unfortunately.”

Miguel’s grip on the dismal bouquet tightens, not even trying to fight your refusal as you get into a cab. He stops the door from closing just as you’re about to, trying one last time to make up for his actions.

“At least let me pay for your cab,” Miguel whispers.

You know he’s sorry. You can see in his eyes the familiar gleam of woe that he’s given to his daughter. Your eyes go to flicker at the cut again, but you know that if you ask, he’s sure to give one his many excuses because it isn’t the first time he’s shown up with an injury before. And you don’t want to put yourself through that wall of verbal familiarity.

With sorrow gentleness, you pry his fingers off the edge of the car and shut it, putting a physical barrier between you and Miguel. The eyes of the driver goes to pitifully glance at your state before beginning to rev up the engine.

You don’t even have the courage to share a glance towards Miguel one last time before the cab begins to drive off—your wallow of disappointment is deep enough as it is.

The rest of the week is agonizingly slow; Miguel dares to say it’s torturous, even.

He’s thankful you’re still acknowledging his existence and talking with him, but your conversations lack the usual warmth and gentle playfulness they often had. It was already lonely enough dealing with the lack of a third person like him at home, but the feeling of isolation felt even more scarring this time because when he came home late after your babysitting session, you didn’t bother with small talk with him, the only thing that made him realize he didn't have to do everything by himself alone.

You didn’t ask how the late shift was, how were the bosses treating him, if he was getting enough rest… no, you only kept him updated on his daughter's schoolwork and any future events regarding her and her only. Your words never included him or you, only finishing off with a goodbye and have a nice night.

At least you were still kind enough to fix him the usual leftovers.

Work itself wasn’t much better. Conversations were brief and the lab in which you two worked privately was filled with silence that was only broken with the occasional demands and directions of lab work. Sometimes a forced cough would sneak its way through Miguel’s lips if the silence began to disturb him too much. He attempted to make some at the beginning, asking how your day was and whether your father was on your tail again, but he was met with short, sharp responses.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Perhaps.”

“I’m not sure.”

Never have such words been so agonizing before. Ironic that they are because Miguel often hated it when people rambled and preferred it when conversations got to the point. He supposes, though, you get to the point too fast for his liking nowadays.

When he tried bringing up an explanation for Sunday’s events, you’d quickly shut it down as tenderly as possible, saying things along the lines of “It’s alright, your schedule is hectic. I can understand.” or “I just hope your work didn’t give you too much trouble.” You’re so polite about it that it hurts him. Miguel would much rather have you lash out and insult him than have you soften the landing that does barely anything to ease him because it feels like you’ve put on that mask you put in front of others—professional and orderly—and Miguel didn’t want to be seen as just a mere coworker, let alone your boss, to you.

His pride bites at his ankles. Lies coming out of his lips too regularly, he had to fib to Gabriella the morning after her sleepover when she asked about the date that you had fallen sick and weren’t able to make it. The disappointment on her face mimicked yours too eerily. She asked him if they were going to reschedule it. Miguel could only shrug his shoulders—he wasn’t even sure if you wanted anything to do with him after that event.

At least nothing changed with you and his daughter. He’d still home to an apartment with you helping with homework or her helping with dinner or tucking her into bed. That’s all he could ask for right now.

Miguel still had the chance to redeem himself this week. There was the annual banquet held at a banquet hall to celebrate the yearly achievements Alchemax and those associated had accomplished, as well as discussing major plans for the future. It was a boring, yet formal event used for connections and idle chatter, something Miguel usually didn’t look forward to. Lyla suggested to him to convince you to go and that Gabriella would just have a one-time babysitter while you got to enjoy (or in your case, put up) with his company as he redeemed himself best as possible. You’re not one to talk with others you’ve never met, so he knew that you would most likely stick by his side for a sense of familiarity.

It took a while, but you murmured you’d go under your breath to shake him off your tail. Miguel was elated, but it was quickly shut down halfheartedly by the reminder that you were still somewhat upset by Sunday’s incident, saying you’d take a cab to the banquet instead of driving with him like he offered.

No matter, as long as you were there by his side.

Miguel made sure that this time, he’d be out the door much earlier than the last, promising to never keep you waiting longer than a minute. A text on his phone pings that you’re near the back entrance, where the parking lot was so it’d be easier to find you. He swerves a little too harshly into the lot—either from nervousness or excitement or both—at the mention and had spotted you near the staircase adorned in a floor-length blushed, ivory pink halter gown with luminescent tulle, making you look like the human embodiment of an ocean pearl.

His eyes are so fixed on you that he didn’t realize he almost knocked himself straight into an oncoming BMW. The owner, a crabby old man he recognizes from human resources, swears and honks at him, making Miguel hide his face before hurriedly parking a little more safely.

When he approaches you, he drinks you in your full glory. Everything about you is so fresh… so exhilarating. You’ve done your hair with a couple of clips this time, with more subtle jewelry this time. Your makeup looks tidy and perfect and Miguel enjoys the way it emphasizes your best features instead of morphing them. If only he was wiser on Sunday, he would’ve been able to savor a different version of you in blue.

Nevertheless, you still manage to take his breath away with just a simple breath like you always have. It’s just that it was only recently had Miguel realized you had that ability and he’d be alright experiencing it again and again if it was with you.

“Mr. O’Hara?” you say and wave a soft wave in front of his face to break his trance. Somehow, you begin to grow self-conscious. Perhaps he didn’t like it? Maybe it was too revealing… the slit at the halter neckline did somewhat peek at your cleavage and you weren’t used to baring your shoulders out. “I-is everything okay?”

Miguel blinks a couple of times. His surroundings finally come into focus like your figure, making him realize how long he had been staring. “Apologies. I… never got to tell you this on Sunday, but I hope to do it now, (Y/N)... ” he clears his throat and straightens his posture, remembering to act everything out as practiced, before softly whispering with evident fondness that, “You look beautiful, tonight.”

A spark of surprise shocks your features for a brief moment, before your usual modesty is displayed again. Eye contact is broken, for you can’t fathom the thought of someone like Miguel O’Hara, favored in every possible way, would be complimenting you so casually. “Oh um. Thank you,” you choke out halfheartedly.

Miguel leans over slightly over your figure and tucks a lock of stray hair behind your ear. If he wanted to truly make up for what happened, he was going to have to go all out tonight, even if that meant rocketing out of his comfort zone. He just barely catches you hitching a breath at the semi-intimate of physical contact as he tries his best to hide his own when he murmurs in your ear again.

“I’m not saying it out of manners, I’m saying it factually,” he mumbles, eyeing the passersby that stare in wonder at you. Some ego swells inside of him at the jealous looks that are given to him. “You’ve bewitched me and many others already.”

You stray your gaze away at him with your hands fiddling at the skirt of your dress. “You didn’t have to, but thank you for the dress, by the way,” you murmur timidly. “I’ve never heard of a brand called Lyla, but I admit, this dress of theirs is rather nice.”

Miguel furrows his brows at the mention before Lyla briefly appears on your head, giving him an enthusiastic thumbs up before disappearing. It doesn’t take Miguel long to realize that Lyla had shipped something so pristine to you without his permission, though he supposes that she had done him and you a favor given how majestic you look tonight.

He lets out a soft breath of a chuckle before shaking his head. Maybe he’ll give her some upgrades in return.

You turn your head behind you, not knowing what he was looking at. “Is something wrong? Is there something in my hair?”

“No, no. Sorry, I got lost in my thoughts…” Miguel interjects before offering his arm to you. “We should get going. I’d hate for a dress like this to go to waste for only my eyes.”

Internally, Miguel wanted to be selfish. He wanted to be greedy and have you all for himself, savor your every move tonight, have you and him be the only ones in this place. He didn’t want anyone to look towards your direction and have you look at anyone else besides him. A little venomous thought of people not realizing you had so much more potential than they realized embeds in himself, and that their awe for tonight was too artificial. He wanted more and to give you more, but then again, he’s still Spider-Man at the end of the day, the impossible man that somehow does it all and faces the consequences head on. He can only offer a regular day citizen like you so much.

But for now, he’ll make do with what he can. Not as Spider-Man this time, but as Miguel O’Hara.

a/n ; hi yeah don't panic, there'll be a part three lmfao i lied lolol. most likely it'll be the last part to this little series i've got going, too, since i think making it a fully fledged series would kind of lead some things astray for me. that doesn't mean the end of the miggy o'hare writings, however! still will most definitely attempt to write for him bc bro's GLORIOUS

thank you all for the patience for part ii, and i hope to see that part iii comes out asap! i'll give updates for it as always, but in the meantime, thank you for reading and likes/comments/reblogs are always noticed and infinitely appreciated ( ˘ ³˘) ♡ !

taglist ; @secretlyrexlapis @urbimom @p1nkliquor @julesclues @averagefloydlover @apurpletrashcan @toofsfairys @raeisthebae (for those with strikethroughs, i'm not able to tag you for some reason :(!)

#spider man: across the spider verse #across the spider verse #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel o'hara smut #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #atsv miguel #across the spider verse x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #fem!reader

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maeby-cursed · 6 months

Text

KISS ME, TRY TO FIX IT…

𓂃 COULD YOU JUST TRY TO LISTEN ?

a/n: starting a new series of songfics ! this one is very obviously inspired by sad, beautiful, tragic, so you can see where this might be going. enjoy the results of my brainrot ♡ (also, i’ve never written for gojo before, please have mercy)

✧ synopsis: you’ve been waiting for satoru gojo for ten years, but there’s no trace of the man you fell in love with when you were sixteen years old. it’s time to let go, but he might not want to.

✧ pairings: satoru gojo x fem!reader

✧ wc: 2k

✧ rating: angst. so much of it, angst to drown in. might get suggestive at some points.

✧ cw: mentions of drinking, of the great jjk tragedy of 2006 and its aftermath, implied cheating, gojo may be ooc, toxic relationship ??

An ice-cold wind blows through the window as you wait.

It’s not even December yet but it’s already snowing.

Soft snowflakes the size of stars, far away in their firmament, enter your living room. When they land on the sofa, they dissolve, leaving in their wake thousands of specks of water that look disturbingly like tears.

It doesn't matter. You don't think he's going to notice anyway.

It's been ten long years of waiting. Ten long years of fighting, of fixing what's broken and denying that it's ever been broken.

It's over. Let winter freeze everything in its path.

When Satoru walks in through the door, you hesitate for a moment. A moment of madness when you see his hair, as white as the snowfall that has invaded your home. Just a moment when you see him in his burgundy turtleneck sweater, his tight-fitting coat. One single moment when you recognize the cold in his pink cheeks.

But it's all over when you meet his crystalline eyes. The fault is theirs.

"Is the window broken again?" he asks, dropping his keys on the entryway’s table.

The window has been broken since September.

You nod and he grunts, running a hand over his face.

"I'll call someone tomorrow, although you could have said something," he says. This is your fault. Of course.

You keep your eyes fixed on the snow. From the living room you can see the sidewalk across the street, covered in a blanket of white that sparkles under the street lamps. It's so painfully beautiful it makes you nostalgic.

You and Satoru moved into this house three years ago, when he got his teaching position, and you can't quite get over the fact that it's time to say goodbye.

You've spent three years of solstices here. You've seen the sidewalks covered with dead leaves, with thousands of little flowers that broke the pavement in their wake. But it’s never snowed.

It’s not fair, not one bit.

Satoru says no more. He goes to your room and undresses; he replaces his street clothes with a black outfit that seems very appropriate for the occasion. Since you’ve known him, he always takes off his glasses when he crosses the hall of your building, but for once, you wish he'd put them back on.

When he returns, his hair is dripping over his forehead. You hadn't even noticed that he was taking a shower.

But he hasn't noticed that your bedside table is empty, either; that your slippers are missing, that there's a seeping coldness in the hearth of your house, and it's not coming from the window.

"What's for dinner?" he asks, plopping down on the couch with his cell phone in his hand.

You get up.

9:26 p.m., November 8. This is where it ends.

"I don't know. I'm going out to dinner," you say.

He doesn’t even bother to look up.

"Hmm, where are you going? Are you bringing something back or should I order myself a pizza?"

It's painful to watch as nothing seems to touch him. He’s infinite — always infinite.

"I'm going to a work friend's house."

"The one with the lovely curly hair and those pretty hazel eyes?"

Christ.

"No. I'm moving in with Rhea. Dark-eyed, blonde, leggy."

"Hmm, how nice."

A moment passes where he just keeps staring at the screen, and you despair.

"Satoru."

"What's up, baby?"

"I'm moving."

At last – at last – he looks up. In his eyes you see nothing; two blue marbles that have sworn you two to an unjust fate.

"You're moving out? Why?"

Where to begin? Because you have been loving a man destined to save everything and everyone for a decade, because you have been trying to fill a void that is not your size for eight years, because the windows are broken and the bed is cold and Satoru arrives several nights smelling of anisette and the perfume of another, because you don't want to live looking at the Strongest, the possessor of the Six Eyes. Because you thought that in some hidden corner Satoru Gojo was still there, and he isn’t.

"Because it's killing me to live like this.” You settle for that as your explanation and try to keep your stare unwavering.

"Like this how?" he questions, suddenly irritated. "In a luxurious house?" He gestures around him with the cell phone in his hand. "Comfortably, with your dream job? Knowing you'll never have to worry about money?"

"No, Satoru. Like this, without you loving me."

That chills him to the bone.

"Of course I love you."

"Do you? Do you want me for anything other than to warm your bed and your cock? Do you want me here, as your partner? Do you need me for anything at all?"

You don’t gesticulate, you barely move from your spot in the middle of the room. Everything in this fucking place is white and uncannily clean; the sofas, the coffee table, the walls, even the snow; but you and Satoru. He’s in all black, you’re in all red. It’s almost dreamlike, and you struggle to stay grounded.

The only thing you could remove from this house that would grab his attention would be you.

"Yesterday you weren't complaining about any of this, what the fuck is the matter with you today?"

And you can't stand it anymore. The winter current lifts your hair, soaks the back of your neck and disguises your tears.

"THE MATTER IS THAT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR TEN YEARS. WAITING FOR YOU. WAITING FOR THE MAN I MET AT SIXTEEN TO COME BACK, SLEEPING WITH A MAN OF ABSENT GAZE WHO STAGGERS INTO MY BED WHEN HE'S TIRED OF BEING IN EVERYONE ELSE'S. I DON'T WANT TO BE YOUR DOG, SATORU. I DON'T WANT YOU TO COME HOME AND FEEL OBLIGATED TO GIVE ME A WALK, A PETTING."

The words come spilling out of you without remedy, every wound bursting open through the stitches. He just looks at you.

"You think I don't love you?"

It hurts to hear him say it, it fucking hurts. You were prepared for the yelling and the coldness, even for a quick vulnerable stare. But never for his trembling voice and soft frown.

You inhale deeply.

"I don't think your love is of any use to me any longer."

Satoru stands up at that.

He's tall, tall and beautiful like Michelangelo's David. All your life, you've been feeling like you had no right to touch him. His infinity assured you that was the case.

He takes a step in your direction and whispers:

"Then what should I do now?"

Your eyes, fixed on the ground, rise to meet his. There's something in the void and you're not sure if it's just your reflection.

"What?" you mutter.

"How do I fix it? What do you need that I can't give you? Do you want me to quit work, for us to leave, for me to come home and kiss your temple, to cook for you, to listen to you, to cherish you in bed?” A heartbeat. “I will."

There’s something about the desperation in his tone, you aren’t sure of what to say next.

Satoru knows how to lie, but you don't know how to tell the difference.

"I don't want anything, Satoru. I'm tired," you whisper back, eyes full of water. "I want it to end. I want you to let it end."

He shakes his head, frowning, and through the mist of your tears you recognize that he is crying too.

"There has to be something. Anything. Something I can do, I can do it all."

It's partly true. He's Satoru Gojo; all-powerful, all-knowing. Eternal and young and beautiful and tragic as a poem.

You are just another person. You cried when Suguru left, when Haibara died, when Kento gave up the Jujutsu world and when Ieri locked herself in her office. You clung to Satoru, who resembled an empty seashell more than a person.

You remember those nights back in 2007. You remember blindfolding him so he wouldn't activate infinity by accident, by reflex, out of overstimulation. You remember cutting his hair when he couldn’t and looking for him in his old antics. You remember taking care of Megumi – always reluctant – and Tsumiki – who you felt was too mature for her age. You remember the burden of being eighteen and having lost a world.

And, above all else, you remember Satoru under the rain. Under the pressure of the world you had lost, the one that he was trying to put back together. There was a month where he seemed catatonic; no smiles, drinking anisette as if it were his one source of life. A thirty-day period followed by the rebirth of a person who looked like the one that stood before, but who seemed cold and alien to you.

"Don't you love me, my darling?" he seeks for you, reaching out a hand to brush against your cheek.

Of course you love him. You love him even like this, like you have loved each and every one of his versions.

"I adore you, Satoru. But I can't stay; you can't fix it."

"Of course I can," he reaches out to you, holding your face between his fingers, "Of course I can."

His lips connect with yours — one last attempt, you don't know by whom.

Snow fills the room and it's cold, but you drink from his mouth, from his everlasting warmth; everything in him lasts forever.

Between kisses, you show him everything you have been for years. Ten years of kisses, of hands looking for hands and flesh searching for flesh.

He moves backwards, keeping you between his hands and guiding you towards the hallway and from the hallway to your shared bed.

This is where it ends.

"Satoru..." you whisper.

"I'm here. I'm here, beautiful, my favorite girl. Talk to me."

A sob escapes you as he utters those words. My favorite girl. That’s what he used to call you. Talk to me, he used to plead, that year at sixteen, when everything was about to start.

Isn't it beautiful that it ends the exact same way?

"Satoru, I'm leaving," you press a farewell kiss to his jaw.

"No, you're not leaving," he murmurs, smiling against your mouth, searching for your lips.

You back away and look at him one more time. And you smile, because there's nothing left.

"I'm already gone. Just let go of me, please."

"But..." he starts, his smile hesitant, "But I'm going to fix it."

You take one of his hands between yours and kiss it as it presses against your cheek, before lowering it to your lap.

"Satoru..." You pronounce each syllable of his name carefully and he stifles a cry. "I'm not going to go any further. I've already made the move and Rhea's expecting me at her house in an hour. I love you, I’ll love you until I run out of kisses, but it does me no good to love you. It is of no use to me, this love. I wanted to tell you. I wanted you one last time. Wasn’t it my turn to be the selfish one for once?"

He watches you, and his mouth shuts close. You've never seen Satoru lose.

No, that's not true. There was a time, one time, where you saw him lose everything.

His eyes fill up with you one second and empty the next.

This is his second time.

He lifts his chin with an arrogance that no longer means anything and lets go of your hands.

"Go then, if you want. I'm not going to do anything to stop you,” he drags the words with feign disinterest. “I can't do anything."

That's the last gift he can give you. An honesty unbecoming of him, a truth that will never belong to Satoru Gojo ever again.

From god to human in three kisses and a goodbye.

"Thank you," you say to him. Then you get up, heading for the living room, where your coat and your escape door await you.

He stays in the bedroom – with himself as he always is – after you leave.

And he hides you where he always hides the things he breaks, in the back of his eyes, where no one can reach to see anything.

(reblogs are appreciated !!)

#🎐 𓂃 mae’s typing !#jjk imagines #jjk angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you

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ataraxiaspainting · 5 months

Text

Careless Whisper.

Yan Gojo x F Reader.

Synopsis: After a long game of playing hard to get, Satoru finally gets you to go on a date with him. But you didn’t expect him to choose a farmer’s market of all places for it to happen.

Warnings: Yandere themes, threats of kidnapping, manipulation, and stalking.

Continuation of There is an Uproar.

Word Count: 1.6k.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

This Could Be Us by Rae Sremmurd

Get Up by NewJeans

Supermassive Black Hole by Muse

Bathroom by Montell Fish

Hotel by Montell Fish

Money Trees by Kendrick Lamar (feat. Jay Rock)

After Hours by The Weeknd

Government Hooker by Lady Gaga

Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys

The Walls by Chase Atlantic

“You’re killing me; don’t you see that you’re the winner of the game?” – Benét, Killing Eve

*~*~*~*

You hold onto the basket like a lifeline.

You grasp the handle so tightly it leaves a mark on your palm and the inner parts of your fingers, and you can practically feel splinters impaling them.

They say the devil takes on many forms, and if it were said that the devil could take the form of a white-haired man with sunglasses in whatever religious texts you were given in your childhood, you would believe that without question.

The identity of whoever or whatever forced you on this little outing is not human. You know this. He can’t be. If he is, your view of humanity will decrease tenfold from where it once was.

Should you pray to all the higher powers and heavens above that he is or is not?

“Come on, let’s get moving!” They say monsters speak in either honeyed, calm, and sweet voices or grimy and croaky ones; but this one is neither. “I kinda want to pet a chicken.”

*~*~*~*

“There’s my girlie!”

You were not surprised in the slightest when Satoru pulled up to your door with a Rolls-Royce. At the sight and the called-out nickname, you even roll your eyes and cross your arms, much to the driver’s amusement. The car is adorned with lamb's wool carpets, embellished with stunning wood and milled aluminum accents, and encased in box grain leather. Only the highest quality materials for the all-high and mighty Satoru Gojo. It is the topmost privilege for a mere mortal like you to even see it.

“You ready?” As you ever will be.

“Yeah.” Your response is quick and to the point. “You still haven’t even told me where we are going for this… date.”

The smirk that appears on his face instantly gives you the impulse to slap it off. But he is stronger, and will most likely not let you, because he is the one in control and not you. So, as he beckons you closer, you close the car door behind you and sit down on the leather seat. The drive to hit him still stands for as long as you anticipated. You just look out the window and hope it goes away.

It is nice outside. Though if Satoru’s foot was not on the peddle, you would have liked it more.

It’s spring now. The grass is bright green and tall, and you could swear that you can smell it. Tiny circles of flowers are there now and then. Dandelions and daffodils mostly. You could count them if Satoru was not driving so damn fast you think he is speeding.

He put your purse and phone in the back seat because, of course, he would want no distractions to stop you from paying attention to him.

He starts talking about how nice your dress looks and how happy he is to have you as his girlfriend.

You want to puke.

It would take at least two weeks for the smell to go away. He would have to clean it up because you would refuse to. Any damage done to his ego no matter how small is a win in your book.

You could picture it now. Satoru, long plastic gloves on his hands and wearing an apron, scrubbing the expensive carpet stained with bile and looking disgusted with you. Maybe he would give up on you then.

You almost laugh at the thought but decide against it when he starts talking with a smile that does not exactly reach his eyes.

*~*~*~*

He is tailing behind you like a grim reaper.

The black turtleneck he is wearing you suppose could count as a cloak. His face is white enough to be a skull, his hair helping you see it in your mind. All the expectations he has for you could be considered a guillotine’s blade that is ready to be let loose at any moment. Maybe a scythe. Don’t lose your head. That is what you keep telling yourself as you go down the aisles of sewn aprons and freshly baked bread and chickens wandering not too far off from the butcher’s cutting board. Don’t lose your head.

So, you keep walking to not be the victim of Satoru’s wrath.

“They’re so cute!” He exclaims, bending down to get a better look at the rabbits that are trapped within the confines of the barbed fence. “I just want to take one home! It would be like having another you around!”

His cooing makes you want to stab your eardrums out with the plastic fork you were given along with a free sample of chicken pot pie.

But you can’t ignore him either, he yearns for your responses like an addict.

“I’m not a rabbit.” You roll your eyes. Satoru responds by turning his head at you and then turning it again to make a visibly confused expression. “I’m a human. Not a pet. Not something to… lock up.” As his countenance turns somber and a hint of amusement lingers, the playful aura dissipates. Your breathing hastens, and your heart races. Perhaps voicing your thoughts was an ill-advised choice. Maybe an alternate utterance would have been wiser. Any alternative, for that expression, is one you wish to never witness again.

As you struggle to catch your breath, Satoru's steady grip on your shoulder brings a faint awareness to your hyperventilation. He calls out your name repeatedly, trying to reach through the haze of tears in your eyes. However, his words offer no solace or relief.

“Come on! Of course, you are.”

Maybe you will puke after all. But not on purpose like you originally intended.

His smile feels like a stab to the chest. Everything he does feels that way.

“...What do you mean?” What exactly does he have planned for you?

How far back do they go? Days, months, years, decades?

“You’ll see. You’ll like them, I know you will.” His hand clasps over your free one like a noose. “Either when you first know them or further down the line. I’ll be with you every step of the way no matter what you think. But just know I only have your best intentions at heart, okay? I can promise you that at least.”

“...Mmhmm. Let’s just… get moving.” Once again, you are off within a labyrinth of stalls.

You liked farmer’s markets during the warmer months, with your family and friends during school breaks and vacation times. Is that why he chose this place? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he also likes them. However, you cannot process the words Satoru and farmer’s market in the same sentence.

You pictured him bringing you to some nightclub and forcing you to dance under disco lights and loud music until you nearly faint from exhaustion. As much as you don’t want to admit it, maybe this is the better option.

You can’t imagine any other option. It could be worse. Those threats of his can easily become true, he could just lock you up in his penthouse and refuse to let you leave.

So, you don’t complain. You don’t want Satoru to get upset, even if you haven’t seen him that way.

“We’ll eventually move in together. Get married further down the line. Maybe have a kid or two, if we are really up to it, though I don’t mind if it is just the two of us.”

For once, you hope Satoru chooses his initial thought. You don’t want to bring any child into this hell.

“Romantic, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

His finger traces the bridge of your nose downward and the tip of it presses on its end.

“Boop!”

“Sigh…”

He does it again.

“So cute…”

“Let’s just continue.” You try so hard not to seethe. “I heard at this specific market they have good lentil soup. Focaccia too. Let’s go.”

He nods.

“Okay! We’re off!”

There is no escape, is there?

“It should be by the coffee stalls if I remember correctly.” You don’t get to finish because of course Satoru found a brand new interest to fixate on.

Aprons. Specifically, the pink lacy one that he is holding gently like a baby. “[First]! Look! You should wear it. It suits you!”

You shake your head immediately. To this, Satoru frowns. You’re hungry after being hauled around from stall to stall for the past hour or so. Can’t he understand that?

He holds the apron up closer to your face.

You turn away from it. Satoru only puts it closer. He really can be stubborn. That is what got you in this situation in the first place. As stubborn as you sometimes are, you can hardly compare to him. But that is with most things.

Money, power, influence, he will always have more than you will, won’t he? Damn it. No escape. Not from him.

Not from him.

But you can try, can’t you? You can at least try. “Come on! It would look so cute on you.” You shake your head. His frown only deepens and he sighs.

Then he shoots you a look again. The look demanding of you to be good or else. The look that gets you to obey him every time he uses it. Every time he puts his foot down.

Don’t lose your head.

Evade the blade.

“Good,” He says, handing you the apron with the smile you unsurprisingly prefer over the hellish expression he just showed you. “Go.”

You do.

Damn it. As long as Satoru keeps toying with you, you won’t ever be able to find peace. No escape. Damn it.

You slip the apron on as he watches, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

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kittwix · 5 months

Text

I Need You

Sub! Cloud Strife x Dom Fem! Reader (nsfw)

word count: 2,325

tags: vaginal sex, blow job, creampie, slight femdom reader, oral (giving), riding, overstimulation

Finally, he was under your control. You’ve waited far too long for the strong, blonde-headed man to fall on his knees in front of you. He was always so reserved, never talked about his feelings or let anyone lend him a hand on anything. He was always too busy with his missions so you hardly ever got to see him. But now that you have him here, you might as well take advantage of the time you have left with him before he leaves again.

You stood proud and tall with your hands on your hips, towering over him who was already kneeling down and looking up at you with his striking icy, blue eyes. You cupped his pale cheek, brushing the pads of your thumb over his bottom lip and smiling softly at how he leaned into your touch.

Already so submissive, what a sweet boy.

You held back a laugh that bubbled in your throat, stroking his cheek some more before leaning your head down and slightly bending over to give him a chaste kiss. Oh how his lips were so naturally soft and smooth, it was almost as if he applied lip balm every time. You fluttered your eyes shut, taking your time to enjoy the kiss that he now reciprocated back with the same amount of eagerness.

Before the kisses the two of you shared turned into a full-blown make-out session, you pulled away and you could tell he wanted more by the way his eyes were still shut and lips were puckered as he leaned his head in some more in an attempt to capture yours back. You softly chuckled at this before standing back up and slowly walking over to the edge of the bed, sitting down as his back was now facing you.

“Cloud, baby, be a dear and turn around for me please?” You mewled at him, forcefully making your voice sound sultry that it hypnotizes him. He did as he was told, staying knelt down but turning around so you could see his front again.

“Strip.”

The blonde-haired man eyed you for a minute before trailing his hands down to the belt of his pants, working his way to unbuckle them as they drape around his waist. You could already see bits of his skin showing but you wanted more. He continued to take apart his armory, leaving him with his sleeveless turtleneck and loose pants. You let out a frustrated sigh, causing him to look up at you.

“Too slow,” You whined with a small, playful pout to which Cloud only responded with a blank stare. “Be a good boy and strip faster, please.”

He stayed silent but did as he was told, slipping off his turtleneck which leaves him shirtless before slowly standing up — his loose pants falling down to the floor on their own, exposing the thin material of his boxer briefs and a visible bulge prominent on his groin area. Your mouth watered at the already impressive length, your patience running out as you hoped he’d whip out his cock in an instant and stuff it inside you already.

But alas, you remained still and only smirked at him as he looked back as his expression did not change. However, you did notice the small tint of pink on his cheeks. He was clearly enjoying this as much as you, despite not talking as much.

“Come here, stand right in front of me.” You directed, shifting a bit on the bed as you placed both feet flat on the floor. You managed to lift your shirt over your head and discard your tight bra, letting your breast fall free and exposing your chest to him. By the time he stood in front of you as you told him to do, you looked down and noticed how his bulge only grew a bit bigger and was throbbing.

You bit your lip and reached both of your hands over the waistband of his boxers, leaning your head in to press a small kiss against his bulge – earning a small grunt from the man above you. Speaking of which, you glanced up for a second and saw how he was carefully watching you with his lips pressed together.

I’ll make those pretty lips of yours moan for me.

You winked at the man before pulling down his boxers and letting them fall to his ankles, his cock sprung out and the head already flushed red at just how turned on he was. You rubbed your thighs together and stared at his dick, your eyes were wide and your lips parted at how big he was.

You couldn’t take it any longer, you needed him right now.

Both of your hands grasped onto his hardened length, the blonde man grunting above you at your skin coming in contact with his. You wasted no time and leaned your head in, already wrapping your lips around the head of his cock and moaning around at how good he tasted already. Cloud threw his head back and cursed silently under his breath, his fingers running through your hair as you took him in even further. It was the first time he made an actual noise before you started this ordeal. You loved it regardless, only taking his thick cock in your mouth further as you moaned around it, the vibration stimulating him some more as it earned a slight hair tug from him.

“Take it all in…” He breathed, motioning your head bobbing up and down his dick. you let your hands rest and placed them on his thighs to keep your balance, only pleasing him with your mouth, and with every bob of your head, your tits would jiggle along. He thrust his hips forward, forcing his hard cock down your throat and making you gag around it. But you didn’t care. Your throat was burning slightly as he continued to abuse your mouth for his own pleasure, you were no longer in full control as you practically allowed him to slowly face fuck you until he comes.

You wanted to cry out, you needed him to come desperately and fill your mouth before he could fill your pussy. Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as the tip of his leaking cock rammed against the back of your throat. His labored breathing mixed in with your muffled screams, your tits bouncing with every slam of his hips before he lost his rhythm.

“Gonna cum…!” He warned, changing the pace of his hips thrusting as they jackhammered into your mouth before spilling his warm seed deep down your throat. It burned, you swore you saw stars at his hot, sticky cum painting the inside of your wet mouth. You moaned in response, happily swallowing his load before pulling away and letting out a satisfied breath.

The man above you breathed just as heavily, staring at your fucked out expression underneath him and he couldn’t help but smirk at you. You caught him staring and smiling, giggling at his expression before trailing your hands back up his thighs to grasp his still-hard cock as you pumped it. Cloud reacted almost immediately, his heavy breathing and soft groans were like music to your ears.

“I want more of your cum,” You cooed at him, your hands pumping his cock even faster and never leaving your eyes off of him. “Please cum all over my tits, Cloud!”

Sweat beads were forming on his forehead as part of his hair was sticking to his face due to it, his lips were shaped in a small “o” and his eyes were closed shut as you kept stroking his stimulated cock. He was truly beautiful and you plan on making him cum dry until he empties all of him into you.

You knew he was close due to his hips stuttering and his breathing increased and his moaning getting louder. This didn't make you stop what you were doing, you practically had hearts forming in your eyes as you kept pleading for him to come all over you.

And he did just that.

With one final pump from your hands and one final thrust that he did, his milk-white seed spilled all over your bare chest and some even manage to land on your face. You had your tongue out, small droplets of his come managing to land on the pink muscle before you desperately looked up at him. He groaned desperately, getting turned on just by the mere sight of you covered in his cum.

He had his head hung low as he attempted to catch his breath while you were too busy swallowing and cleaning up the cum that managed to land on your face. You did, however, left your cum covered tits alone – finding it extremely sexy how he practically claimed you as his without even saying it.

He sat right next to you, his cock was still hard and the tip was still flushed pink but he was no longer leaking cum anymore. Not yet at least.

You giggled quietly before swinging one of your legs over his lap, straddling his hip, and letting his cock hit against your butt. He looked at you curiously, hands snaked on your hips. You leaned your head in and captured his lips with yours, him kissing back, before lifting your hips up and aiming for the tip of his cock to touch the entrance of your already wet pussy. You had to use a free hand to guide his dick, humming contently as you felt him needily press against your entrance.

“What are you waiting for?” He spoke up, his voice was a bit hoarse yet it was still sexy to hear him talk when he’s already fucked out.

You faced him with your arms already wrapped around his neck at his question, lowering yourself down to his cock as the both of you synchronized your moans. Your wet pussy swallowed his cock inch by inch, he was still big so it took some time to adjust but it felt like you were made to be his cock sleeve – fitting him in nicely like a puzzle piece.

By the time you were well adjusted to his length, you made the effort to lift your hips up again before slamming yourself back down making you throw your head back. He encouraged you to repeat this process many times, guiding and helping you bounce on his cock with his hands firmly gripping your hips. He watched as your breast bounced along with you, your pussy lips taking him in whole as he was now balls deep in.

“You’re so.. Ngh.. wet~” He grunted following after your countless breathless pleads and moans, fastening the pace you were going as he matched your rhythm with his own thrust of his hips. You seemed to take a liking to this, moaning his name at how every thrust he made up your wet hole granted another leering whimper falling from your drooling lips.

“Cloud... Ahh, fuck, right there! Fuck me right there!” You pleaded, your hips tiring out as he took this opportunity to flip the both of you to a different position, spinning you around his cock as your back was now pressed against his bare chest and his hands were now firmly gripping the back of your thighs as he forcefully kept your legs spread and your knees were against your chest.

This new position made his thick cock reach places where he couldn’t before, the tip of his length greedily brushing against the sweet spot that turned you into putty – your pussy leaking and milking around his dick as a familiar knot formed in your abdomen.

“I’m gonna cum..! Gonna cum, fuck me more please!” You turned your head to the side, squirting all over his cock as he kept fucking into you and helping you ride your orgasm. You hummed and whimpered as he kept plunging his dick inside of you, his heavy balls slapping against your ass and you felt the drool trailing down your chin.

“Ngh... Mmm, so close..” He gasped quietly, keeping your legs spread as he continued to drill his cock in and you mewled for him to keep going, despite how overstimulated you were.

“Cum inside me, fill me up..!” You pleaded, only enticing his orgasm to come closer and closer. You let him control you around as if you were some play doll, but you could care less, you just wanted him to fill you up.

Cloud slammed himself up against you a couple more times before feeling his body go limp, a lingering moan leaving his lips as he filled your pussy with his warm, milky substance and made sure to have every drop coating your walls. You whined at this feeling, you felt full and the fact that his stiff cock was still deep inside you didn't exactly help the feeling go away. You didn't complain though, this was all you ever wanted.

He pulled out, and a few drops of your mixed cum fell to his thigh but he didn't mind it. He fell backward on the bed, and you followed afterward before twisting your naked body and pressing against his side and cuddling up against him. You had an arm around you, holding you close to his bare chest and a comfortable silence falls between the both of you.

“When am I gonna see you again?” You asked quietly a moment later, tracing an invisible pattern along his chest. He stayed quiet for a moment.

“I’ll be staying here for a while now, you don’t have to worry about that..” He mumbled, causing your heart to ache. You couldn't contain the smile falling on your face and pressed your head against him.

Right, you didn’t have to worry about any of that now. He was here next to you and that's all you ever wanted.

♡

+ back to masterlist

#oneshots #final fantasy vii #cloud strife #cloud strife x reader #smut #ffvii #i remember writing this being half asleep #cloud strife smut #kittwix-nsfw #kittwix-oneshots #kittwix-miscellaneous-oneshots

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back2bluesidex · 18 days

Text

Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 6 (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok.

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, smut

Warnings: SMUT AHEAD!! Explicit sex, hair pulling, tit slapping, nipple play, body worshipping, doggy style, protected sex, Hoseok is just so whipped for her, confessions, mina makes an appearance, multiple orgasms, argument, drama!!! NSFW!!!

Word count: 4.1k+

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: This chapter was so fun to write. I hope it's fun to read for you too. Please let me know what you think of it.

Main Masterlist

Chapters:-

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

It’s been long since you had any physical action.

Jungkook was far too unattached for the last couple of months of your relationship that he couldn't offer more than a few kisses and touches.

And then when he left, you were far too drained to give yourself a moment of release.

So, this can be a reason why you currently feel that you are being touched for the first time ever. This can be a reason why your skin is ablaze, your heart is pounding so hard that you can hear it in your ears and your panties getting soaked at the speed of light.

Hoseok groans in your mouth when you manage to slide your tongue inside of his. He tastes like the red wine you two just had. But he feels like everything you have been missing in your life.

“Stay the night.” Hoseok whispers in your mouth, parting for a second. A string of saliva connecting both of you.

“Should I?” you reply breathlessly.

And then you are kissing him again. His hands hold you steadily by your hip, squeezing your ass occasionally.

“But first, let’s keep these away.” you murmur in his mouth and he groans in affirmation.

Parting from your lips again, Hoseok places a quick peck on your mouth and takes the wine glass from your hand. When he exits the balcony to keep the glasses on the dishwasher, you follow him.

Calling Hoseok only handsome would never be justified.

You stare at him thirstily as he puts the glasses inside the dishwasher. His forearm veins flexing with every movement he makes. The black turtleneck is tight around his well-built chest. His dark styled hair has come loose around his forehead so a few strands are covering his eyes.

You start blushing but not because you are horny. It’s more than that.

No matter how independent you are, you have always wished to have a small family. Some people, who you would always come back to. Someone of your very own.

And you have always pictured Jungkook with you in those moments.

But now, when you have a glimpse of what you could have in future (only if Hoseok feels the very same way), you feel greedy.

You want to wake up in the morning beside Hoseok, kiss him good morning, take Sua out of her bed, kiss her too, and at night you want to tuck her to her bed, kiss her good night and end your day in Hoseok’s arms.

You don’t know if it’s right for you to ask all these and you don’t even want to think of that. For now, you know you are in love with the man in front of you.

You know he is attracted to you too, and it probably doesn’t match the intensity you possess for him. But for now, you want to live in this feeling. It’s been long since you have felt anything akin to butterflies and you want to enjoy it all as long as it lasts.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” It's Hoseok who speaks. He takes a step towards you.

“Am I?” you mirror his actions.

“Yes. very much.” he takes a hold of your hand and places a kiss on top of it, “so much so that I want to make you mine… only mine.”

Hoseok intertwines his fingers with yours, making your heart go even wilder. You can’t remember the last time when you felt this loved, this cherished, this much adored.

His eyes stay on yours. You can’t find the least bit of mockery in those. His words are sincere, he is sincere and right now, you can read him like an open book.

Placing your other hand on his cheek, you whisper, “then.. What’s stopping you from doing so?”

His skin is smooth much like his words.

Hoseok halts his movements at your question. His eyes flood with emotions that are not quite positive. You know what he might be thinking. And you want to dismiss his thoughts as soon as possible.

“I- I don’t see why you would want someone like me? I am in my thirties, a single father on top of that. You can have hotter younger guys swooning over you, offering you the world and what not. And me? I can only offer you myself, my love and Sua as a bonus. That’s all.”

You smile at his admission. He probably thought his words would discourage you from stepping towards him. But in reality you fall for him even more.

Encircling your hands around his neck, you reply, “and what if that’s more than enough for me? What if that’s all I want? You, your love and Sua as a bonus? Will you make me yours then?”

“I have been alone for far too long, Y/N. and… and I might not let you go if we step into this. I might never let you slip away from me. Will you be okay with that?”

“I will love that, Hoseok. I.. I have come to like you a lot in the past few weeks. And would love to fall for you in the near future.” you connect your forehead with his.

“Too bad, because it took me only the first glance to fall head over heels for you.” as soon as his confession ends, his lips find yours.

This time the kiss is slow.

Hoseok takes his time to explore every corner of your mouth while caging you between himself and the kitchen counter.

You kiss him with utmost sincerity as well.

Hoseok bites down on your lower lip, making you release a low moan. His kisses shift to your jaw, then to the column of your throat, painting bruises all over your skin.

His hands find their way to your thigh. And within a moment he lifts you up and sits you on the counter.

Slotting himself perfectly in between your legs, Hoseok nips on your throat.

“Hoseok” you moan breathily.

Hoseok’s hands venture underneath your dress, discovering your bare thigh. Your breath hitches when his fingers reach closer to your leaking core.

Just when he is about to touch you there, the door lock chimes in.

Hoseok detaches his mouth from your skin. You can see all the color from his face start draining as he whips his head to look towards the main entrance.

“Hoseok” a high pitched voice comes out of the narrow passage that leads to the door. And at once you know who it can be.

Her stilettos clink against the marble floor as she invites herself inside.

You don’t make any effort to demount the kitchen counter or shoving Hoseok away from your body. You stay still, holding him by his arm and so does he.

“Hoseok, why didn’t you-” the woman comes into your sight wearing a tight bodycon dress that certainly emphasizes her curves a lot.

You gotta admit the fact that she is indeed pretty. And if you’re a tiny bit jealous then it’s a discussion for another day.

“Mina! What the hell? How do you know my passcode?” Hoseok screams at her. But she is too busy scanning the position that you and Hoseok are in.

“That’s not important now, Hoseok. Who is she?” she points her finger towards you.

“Why are you here?” the man asks calmly now.

“Because you won’t reply to my texts or receive my calls! And I suppose she is the reason why?”

“Mina. Let’s talk about it later. I need you to leave now, you can see I am busy.”

“Who is she, Hoseok?” Mina asks again, determined to know your identity.

Hoseok looks at you.

Maybe he is hesitant to name your relationship and it’s natural. You are definitely not only in a professional relationship with him anymore but you are nothing more than a person he just kissed.

So you decide to answer on behalf of him, “I am Su-”

“She is my girlfriend.” Hoseok cuts you off.

Damn! Did he just call you his girlfriend?

When you look up at him, he is already smiling at you, “she is my permanent.”

You two are too busy staring into each other’s eyes that you don’t see the third figure bolting out of the door and banging it way too loudly. Before you can register it and say something, Hoseok is picking up where he left off earlier.

His hands work faster this time, undoing the knot of your dress and pulling the cloth away from your body. Your dress falls limp on his feet.

Your hands grab Hoseok’s turtle neck as if they are on auto-pilot and tug it out of his slacks. He helps you in undressing himself.

As soon as his honeyed skin comes into view, you start salivating.

“Fuck! Is it really legal for you to be this sexy?” you speak the words out loud. Your hands explore the expanse of his chest, his stomach, his torso.

“Why? Are you going to report me?” Hoseok chuckles, trying to tear your hands away from himself so that he can see you properly.

“I might… report you to my bedroom.” You place a kiss on his throat.

He groans, finally grabbing your wrist, he pins those on your back and says, “I’m one hell of an attorney. I know how to win cases.”

He swiftly unclips your bra and takes the article off your body.

“Holy shit! Y/N! You are so fucking gorgeous!” Hissing at the sight of your bare chest, Hoseok garbs your right tit with his free hand.

“So big! Damn! I bet your nipples will taste heavenly on my tongue!”

His praises turn you on beyond repair, so you whine.

He takes your left nipple inside his mouth. At first he rolls his tongue on the bud and then he starts sucking it. His sucks are so powerful that the action produces loud wet sounds. You bite back a moan even though it’s tough to do so.

“Come on, baby! Let me hear you.” Hoseok speaks into your tit. His saliva runs down your bosom.

“B-but Sua is-”

“Her room is upstairs, remember?”

“O-Oh. I completely forgot you fucked Mina neumerous tim- Ah” a bite of sharp teeth on the sensitive skin of your nipple restricts you from completing the sentence.

Hoseok slaps on your other tit harshly and bites on your nipple again.

“Hoseok!” you let out a thunderous moan.

When he finally leaves you tits, those are covered in red, purple bruises.

Hoseok winds a hand around your naked waist and picks you up easily. You wrap your legs around his torso, letting him take you to his bedroom.

On other times you would take a look at the decoration of someone’s bedroom as that tells a lot about a person. But right now you can only think of Hoseok’s body, his mouth and those damned set of fingers.

He drops you onto his plush bed and hooks his fingers around the waistband of your underwear. Once those are discarded, he takes off his own slacks.

His strong thighs make you wanna ride him till you come undone. But then your eyes fall on his bulge. The anticipation of his rock hard cock filling you up makes your head spin.

“Let me see you, baby!” Hoseok cooes at you and only then you realize, you have been clenching your thighs and blocking the views.

Hoseok urges your legs open. Hungrily staring at your leaking core, he licks his lips.

“Fuck! The most beautiful cunt of the most woman I have ever seen. You are a fucking goddess! I will worship the ground that you walk on.” Hoseok groans briefly before he dives down into your heat.

As soon as his mouth comes in contact with your cunt, you start seeing stars.

He kisses your mound, then your folds and then your clit. He takes it into his mouth and sucks the bundle of nerves as his life depends on it.

And when he enters a finger into your core, you feel your heat building.

His tongue plays with your clit as two of his fingers plunge into your hole at a rhythmic pace. It’s too much to take, so you voice, “Ho-Hoseok! I’m gonna c-cum.”

“Yes darling. Cum on my mouth.” he takes out his fingers from your hole and replaces those with his tongue. His fingers do the job of drawing tight eight figures on your clit in the meantime. And as a result, he rips out one of the best orgasms you have ever had. Your scream accompanies your release as you cum in Hoseok’s mouth.

“So sweet. So fucking sweet.” Hoseok stands on his feets.

You are so fucked out already that you miss the moment when he releases his cock from its confinement and strokes it twice.

When your eyes finally fall on his naked body, you start getting wet again.

“Oh god, Hoseok!” you try to sit up and take a hold of his meat.

Wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock, you give a kitten lick and wipe away his pre-cum. Hoseok shudders with your touch.

But he takes his cock away from your hand and murmurs, “You can suck me dry later baby. I really really want to be inside you now. Will you let me?”

Sitting on your knees, you place a kiss on his lips, “Do whatever you want, Hoseok. I am all yours.”

Hoseok grabs you by your neck and smashes his lips on yours, “You drive me crazy!” His words vibrate into your mouth.

He tactfully lays you down and snatches a packet of condom from the drawer of his night stand before climbing on the bed. Rolling down the same around his girthy length and lines his cock on your entrance.

“Can I?” He asks briefly before pushing himself inside your greedy hole slowly.

He gives you a few moments to adjust first and when you are done he starts moving.

“Fuck! So tight! Fuck!!!” Hoseok growls as he holds you in your place by your waist.

The first few thrusts are slow, he takes his time with preparing you. But then you whine, “Hoseok! Faster!”

“Whatever you say, baby.” Hoseok mutters briefly as he urges you to sit up and change position. He pulls himself out of you.

Within a moment you are on your fours.

He grabs you by your waist and slams himself inside again, pulling out an earth shattering moan from your mouth.

His other hand reaches for your neck and then ventures into your hair. He grabs and pulls your hair gently as he thrust into you harshly again.

The thrusts are so powerful that your words morph into nothingness and come out as gibberish. You start clenching around him sooner than you would like to admit and you know you are gonna cum again.

“I- c-cu” and you cum on his cock even before Hoseok could offer you a reply.

“Shit!” He growls as he cums in the condom.

Your body falls on the bed, you are too exhausted to even get up and clean yourself.

But soon enough you feel one strong arm sliding underneath your stomach and flipping you over. Hoseok lays you down on your back and then places a damp cloth in between your legs. He cleans you thoroughly.

Honestly, you want to cry. When you peek at his face, you see nothing but admiration. He gives you a small smile and continues.

Once he is done, he lays down beside you. Greets you a small good night, wraps his arms around you and kisses on your crown as you slowly melt into a dreamless sleep.

He still can’t believe it.

Hoseok still can’t believe that you are now his. His to hold, his to kiss, his to love and do all the things he wants to do to you, with you.

Without any doubt, last night was one of the best nights of his life until now. And now that he knows how it is to fall asleep beside you and wake up with you sleeping in his arms, he doesn’t want a life without this.

He traces the contour of your face with his thumb as if to make it into a muscle memory. Your eyes, your nose, your lips.. He wants to remember everything, he wants to engrave it into his brain.

Your alarm goes off, breaking your sleep.

You stir awake and then look for your phone on the nightstand. Turning it off, you look at him and give him one of your most beautiful smiles.

“Good morning.” gosh! Your sleepy voice is perfect.

“Good morning, darling.” If hoseok isn’t wrong then he can clearly see you blushing at the nickname.

“How did it come here? I definitely left it at your dining place.” You ask him, pointing at your phone.

“I brought it. Thought you might have an alarm set and see I was right.” he reaches down and places a kiss on top of your nose.

“Umm. so considerate.” you mirror his actions. He giggles at that.

“I need to get up now. Do you have an extra toothbrush?” you ask, starting to get up from the bed.

“Y/N! I could drop you. It’s not a big deal.” Hoseok whines. He wants to spend as much time with you as possible. Or better he doesn’t want to let you go. But he knows you have work to attend and he values that.

“I know, Hoseok. But I don’t want you to wake Sua up and drop her to your sisters’ this early. And on top of that the cab is almost here.” you take your purse and follow Hoseok outside his mansion.

Hoseok intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls you closer once you are at the porch, “I don’t want to let you go.”

“Neither do I want to, handsome. But Namjoon will kill me if I take another day off. I slacked off for two entire weeks after my break up.” The mention of your break up somewhat dims the light in your eyes but Hoseok knows he can make it better. He can heal you.

He puts a hand on your cheek and places a chaste kiss on your lips, “So, today is our day 1?”

He knows he has successfully diverted your mind when your cheeks turn darker and a sheepish smile takes over your lips.

“If you say so.” you murmur.

Just right then the cab pulls in outside Hoseok’s mansion. You hug him and bid him goodbye.

“Y/N” he stops you when you are about to tear apart from him, “what are you doing this weekend?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Great then.”

And with that you leave. Even though it upsets him, it also fills him with a new excitement of seeing you in two days.

Saturday comes painfully slowly.

But the prospect of seeing Hoseok not as your counselee’s guardian but as your boyfriend has kept you filled with an incredible amusement.

You two pondered on what to do and where to go for your first official date. But no options satiated you. You kept making excuses for whatever he came up with and there is a reason why.

You wanted to spend time with him inside the comfort of your home. And when you presented the idea to him, he agreed in a heartbeat.

The preparations have kept you busy since morning and it’s almost the time of his arrival.

So you change your clothes, slip into a fresh pair of tee and shorts, wash your face and apply some lip balm.

As always, Hoseok is right on time. He rings the doorbell right at 7 pm, just as you two decided.

“Hey, come in.” you open the door wide open, welcoming him inside.

He has arrived with a large bouquet of red roses and a plastic bag full of soju bottles.

“Flowers for a flower.” He offers you the bouquet and you can’t help but tsk.

“So cheesy, Mr. Jung.”

“I’m sorry.” he laughs out loud.

Once you are done putting away his presents, you take a good look at him.

He has his hair down today, unlike the other times you have seen him. His fluffy hair covers his forehead, making him look younger. His lips, as always, are inviting. And he has chosen to dress himself in an oversized white hoodie and baggy jeans.

“You.. are looking so beautiful, baby.” It’s hoseok who compliments you first. Wrapping his arms around you, he takes you in his embrace.

“I was about to say the same. You look so handsome, so domestic.” letting your lips capture his in a kiss, you show him how much you have missed him for two days.

“Is it okay for you to stay the night?” You ask Hoseok in between your ragged breaths. His mouth sucks on that one spot on your neck, that gets you all weak.

“Sua is with her grandparents and she likes them more than me.” He replies, pulling his mouth away from your skin for a second.

“I doubt that. She loves her daddy the most.” You giggle as Hoseok’s hands slide inside your t-shirt.

He shuts his eyes as soon as you emphasize you on “daddy.”

“Can you call me that again?” his voice trembles a bit.

“What? Daddy?” It's such a pleasure to tease him like that.

“Don’t tease me, Y/N!” his nails dig into the flesh of your waist.

“I’m not teasing you. I am asking. Is that what you liked to be called? Daddy?”

“Fuck it!” Hoseok growls as he captures your lips in a hungry, rough kiss. His hands reach up to your tits, groping the flesh to snatch a moan out of your lips.

And just then the doorbell rings.

You whine into his mouth before breaking the kiss.

“Who is it now!” clearly being very annoyed, you charge up to the door.

“Hello, who is it?” asking through the door dash cam, you wait for an answer.

Whoever is outside, is wearing a helmet and from the angle of the camera, it’s impossible to tell if it’s someone you know or not.

“Courier service.” the muffled voice of the person replies.

You don’t think much. You usually receive a lot of mail for seminars and stuff that has become a common feat.

So you open the door.

But to your dismay, the person wearing that damned helmet and bikers’ jacket is none other than your ex-boyfriend.

The scene slowly unfolds in front of Hoseok.

He sees your good mood turning sour as soon as you see the person standing at your door.

“What is it again?” you grit through your teeth.

This is the first time Hoseok is seeing you losing your cool and if he is not wrong then the person on the other side is your ex-boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook.

Even though your body is blocking the view, Hoseok can see the man taking off his helmet.

“I need to talk to you, Y/N. please.” he speaks in a calm voice as if it’s no big deal to knock on your ex’s door at 9 on a saturday.

Hoseok’s hands ball into fists. His blood boils at the thought of your ex-boyfriend trying to win you back even after he left you for someone else.

“I don’t understand what the fuck is left to talk about?” you scream at his face.

“Y/N, Please. I know you can’t forgive me for what I have done to you but I understood it. I- I realized my mistakes. I thought I fell out of love with you but-” the man sighs, his voice trembles constantly, “but I was wrong. I broke up. I- I ended things with her as soon as I realized I still love you. I never stopped loving you. I never-”

For a moment, Hoseok is afraid. What if you take him back? What if you accept his apologies and take him back into your life. What will be left for Hoseok then?

But, “It’s too late, Jungkook.” you cut him off.

“Y/N, please.”

“I don’t feel anything for you anymore. And I will appreciate it if you leave now.”

“Y/N, listen to me-”

“Didn’t you hear what she said? She asked you to leave, Mr. Jeon.” Hoseok intervenes. Even though he knows he should not butt in, but you are now his, and it’s his responsibility to protect you.

You turn your head to meet his eyes. Your face is apologetic as if you are ashamed of whatever is happening right now. He assures you a small “it’s okay”.

Then he looks at the man standing at your door, only to find him glaring already.

“And who are you to come between us?” Jungkook’s voice is now laced with venom.

“I am her boyfriend.” Hoseok replies as he walks up to you and stands between you and Jungkook as if protecting you from an impending danger.

Taglist 1:-

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @xjoonchildx @justmewondering-recs @cuteipat @miakey98 @purpleanchorcrown @chimmisbae @ane102 @junniesoleilkth @terjeonbebas @kookssecret @appleh4ad @kayleeshinee @whoa-jo @definetlythinkimanalien @lovelgirl22 @agrika

Taglist 2:-

@llallaaa @mikrokookiex @parkinglot-nights @hiqhkey @diamonddia-mond @00frenchfries00 @koalasandcuddles @superchamchi88 @ttanniett @coralmusicblaze @multiasf @kookscumrag @sumzysworld @knjjjk @xtrataerrestrial @survivalistghost @kelsyx33 @aann95 @btsffreader92 @jjk174 @dragonflygurl4 @xwniazx

#bts angst #bts smut #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #hoseok angst #hoseok smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #hoseok x reader #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #hoseok scenarios #jhope angst #jhope smut

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bachiras-toaster · 8 months

Text

seven minutes in heaven : ̗̀➛

YUTA OKKOTSU x afab!reader

cw: yuta is a boob guy, reader has tear-shaped boobs, shamefully pervy!yuta, all characters aged up, drunk!reader, alcohol, virgin!yuta

wc: 4k

The truth was, Yuta liked you. He liked your humour, your personality, your smile, and practically everything about you. Although, one of the aspects of your being he felt that he was so shamefully attracted to was your body- Every part of it, actually. Especially your boobs.

He had seen them up close and personal a few times when he had conversations with you, but for the most part, he had kept his distance. Though, despite having to admire them from far away, he could never take his eyes off your chest no matter what you were wearing. V-necks and low cut tops were a heavenly sight to him and he had always thanked his lucky stars whenever he saw you rock up to outings with the group in them, however he was also attracted enough to you to appreciate when you didn't have any cleavage on display. Even when you wore things like turtlenecks or t-shirts, he still loved how he could see the outline and shape of your breasts and he loved leaving it up to the imagination.

He had only really confided in two people about his little crush on you: and that was Inumaki and Panda. Being the other two guys he was the closest with in the friendship group, he felt like he could really trust them. They had never gone against his trust, however it had often become a topic of teasing, especially when they were faced with an opportunity to push Yuta outside of his comfort zone. Whenever they saw that you were slightly revealing tops, they would shoot glances at Yuta to see if he was staring- Which he always was, every single time. Though it seemed like now their confidence in wingmaning had become a lot more daring thanks to a house party that one of their friends had hosted.

Needless to say, drinking was involved, and you were starting to feel the effects of partying. Others had also gotten quite drunk, such as people like Nobara and Yuji, but neither were quite as bold as you were when you were drunk. You were someone who already loved taking risks when you were sober, so being drunk practically meant that you were up for any challenge that came your way.

Yuta meekly watched from the corner as Panda and Inumaki conversed with Nobara on the other side of the room in hushed voices. He hadn't been suspicious at first, but when he saw them shooting gazes back at him and pointing, he felt his heart drop. They were his friends. Surely they weren't saying anything bad, right? Part of him wanted to get up there and join in on their conversation just to see what all the fuss was about, but as he put his cup to the side to get up from his seat, Nobara erupted into a loud cackle and cupped her hands together to yell at the people situated in the lounge.

"Alright! Who's ready for some seven minutes in heaven?!" She screamed excitedly, causing a loud uproar of eager cheers to fill the living room. Yuta gasped when he heard the announcement, turning towards Inumaki and Panda, who had already made their ways back to his side, chuckling.

"What did you do-?! Did you tell her to host a game of seven minutes in heaven?!" Yuta asked frantically in a flustered tone, already feeling his cheeks blush a shade of bright red.

"Salmon." Inumaki held the thumbs up with a proud smile.

"Relax, Nobara's totally in on the plan." Panda wrapped his arm around Yuta's shoulder, copying the hand gesture that Inumaki had held up. The black-haired man simply shoved Panda's large arm off of his shoulders and stared at him, absolutely horrified.

"Plan?! What plan?!" His voice pitched a high and terrified tone. "What did you tell her?! I was just asking about the game!"

"Stop worrying. She's not gonna tell anyone. She's totally reliable." Panda assured him, holding his paw on Yuta's shoulder in a quick attempt to calm him down. "She asked us how we thought we could make the party more interesting and we just... Briefly mentioned how a good game could bring you and (Y/n) closer together!"

"Tuna!"

"If you could believe it, she actually wanted (Y/n) to get closer with someone! She didn't explicitly mention you, but she said how she always noticed how boring (Y/n)'s like must be without a partner."

"You had no right to tell her that—!" Yuta made a short-lived attempt to give the two a piece of his mind, but he was interrupted with another deafening cheer as he saw (Y/n) stumble to Nobara's side.

He watched intently as you had practically dashed to the front of the room where Nobara stood, holding your hands up to point towards yourself with a large grin on your face. You weren't exactly drunk enough to the point where you couldn't even stand, however you were having a little trouble running in a straight line.

"Me, pick me!" You begged her, clasping your hands together as you fell to your knees in front of her. "I want to play a round!"

"Of course! Thank you for volunteering!" Nobara giggled as she helped you back onto your feet by grabbing your forearm. "Oh, but who am I going to pair you with...?" She frowned, her eyes already being set directly onto Yuta.

His skin ran cold as he made eye-contact with the light brunette girl and he immediately looked away, his eyes trying to find every corner of the room before he let them find Nobara's eyes again. Yet no matter how hard he attempted to look away, his friends knew better than to let Yuta pass this golden opportunity up- especially after they had worked so hard to even let it happen in the first place.

Without a second thought, both Panda and Inumaki instinctively shoved Yuta forward into the crowd of people, causing him to tumble forward. The people that he felt into got the quick impression that he was offering himself up and grabbed at his wrist to force his hand into the air. Panda and Inumaki exchanged proud glances as Yuta's hand was forced up high by a blue-haired girl, who was excited to see that someone was apparently willing to go forward with the game.

"And who's that handsome man I see at the back?" Nobara's grin widened as she pretended to scan the area, leaning forward with her palms stretched above her eyes to give her a clearer view of the crowd. "Yuta Okkotsu! You seem like the perfect match for this game!"

The people surrounding him already began shoving him forward closer to the front of the room where Nobara and you were stood. His heart raced the closer he got and he made multiple attempts to push out of their grasp, to no avail.

"Oh no, I wasn't volunteering or anything! I was just accidentally shoved into people who thought I was!—" He stammered, his face flushing as he finally reached the front of the room, where Nobara had already latched her palm around his wrist, dragging you both to the nearest walk-in cabinet.

"Oh, so you're saying you wouldn't want to be trapped in a room with dear old (Y/n) here?" She paused to give Yuta a playful glare, gently tapping on your cheeks before squeezing them lovingly. "Grow up, it's only seven minutes!"

When a big enough cabinet was found, the two of you were both shoved inside without a second thought. You and Yuta had been engulfed between hung-up coats and a collection of shoes at your feet, the jackets and cardigans that were strung up in the cabinet practically served as a curtain to hide Yuta's profusely blushing face. Nobara smiled widely and waved at the two of you, and he could just about see Panda and Inumaki's smug expressions hiding behind the girl’s friendly face.

"We'll let you know when it's been six minutes so you have a minute to... Get ready." Nobara smirked, shutting the door and facing Panda and Yuta as she did so, high-fiving them over their great achievement.

The black-haired man made an opportunity to try and object, but the door had already been slammed in his face, and the knob clicked shut. His palm latched onto the handle to shake it desperately, whining as he tried to force it back open, but it was no use.

You had already sat down on top of one of the storage shelfs on the ground and giggled slightly when you saw how terrified Yuta seemed to be. By no means did he think that being alone with you was the worst thing in the world, but he had just never been this close to you alone in such a confined space. Truth be told, the thought of it terrified him, especially since he felt that he was too attracted to you to keep his composure for this long, especially when you were a lot... Different when you were drunk.

You were a pretty normal person when you were sober, which is why it probably would've been fine for him to be alone with you if you hadn't touched a single drop of alcohol since attending the party. Unfortunately, when you were drunk, it was like your boldness levels shot from two to a hundred. You were a lot more confident, touchy, and you let words spill from your lips at the same speed that the thoughts appeared in your mind.

"Why? Is it so bad to be alone with me?" You pretended to pout before a playful grin stretching across your glossy lips.

Yuta turned around, his heart practically squeezing in his chest. When you reached forward and tugged on the end of his sleeve to pull him forward, he swallowed a great gulp of nervousness as he stumbled into a seat in front of you, where he sat upon a small drawer that seemed to hold a shelf of sandals and slippers.

"N-No! I didn’t mean it like that! You’re a lovely woman— It’s just... I didn’t expect to have to play this sort of game…" He immediately went to scratch the back of his palms, looking down at his knees so he wouldn't have to look you straight in the eye.

"Relax, Okkotsu. Games like this always happen at parties." You take hold of his chin and guided his gaze back up into yours. Despite the darkness, you were still able to catch a glimpse of that small twinkle in his eyes, that very look that screamed innocence and adorableness.

"Th-They do..?" He stuttered.

"Of course! And we're both adults, aren't we? We've both done it before."

You shrugged and leaned back against the wall behind you with a bright smile; your expression was met with a nervous look of his own as he gnawed the inside of his cheek worriedly.

"I... Haven't." He let out softly, almost as if he were afraid to admit that.

"—Really?!"

"...I haven't even seen a pair of boobs in person before." He grumbled, possibly even more quietly than his last sentence.

You couldn't help but let a loud and belted cackle run from your lips, your entire face flushing with humour as you heard his comment. Your chest began to ache a little with how heavily you were laughing and tears in the corners of your eye began to make itself apparent the longer you continued to bellow in his face.

"Aw, that is so adorable! Who knew you could be so innocent!" You commented, your cheeks beginning to hurt with how widely you were grinning.

"Huh—?!"

"I knew you were like that, but I figured at least some girl would let you cop a feel at least some point in your life." Your hands rested on your knees and you squeezed the fabric of your pants to try and suppress your shaky giggles. "Why have you never mentioned that before?" You wipe the tears from your eyes with your index finger and let your hands drop to the hems of your shirt, your fingers tugging on the bottom of your top.

"Because...! —It's not relevant!" He nervously bit back, trying to defend himself.

"You're too much of a gentleman, Yuta." Your smile softened as you lifted up your shirt to remove it, your hair flowing against the neck-hole in your top for a more exciting reveal. "Surely you've thought about wanting to grab some girl's tits at least once." Your top dropped to your side as you leaned back a bit to reveal yourself shirtless, wearing nothing on your top-half aside from what seemed to be a regular bra.

He hesitated at your comment for a moment, biting the inside of his lip as his cheeks felt warm again. He faced forward, but his eyes looked to the wall behind you instead of at your breasts, feeling like it was wrong to be staring at you so vulnerably.

"Wanna see mine?" Your voice dipped to a more deeper and whispery tone, almost like you were talking to him as if you were a sultry lady trying to invite him into your bed.

"—What—?!" He was immediately caught off guard and looked you right in the eye, his lid widened to reveal that coat of shock that lingered in his state.

"They're probably not as round as you would imagine them— Assuming you've thought about the shape of my boobs before..." You tease, gently prodding your own chest in your bra as you chuckled.

"—I'm sure they're... Fine..." He gulped.

This is more of what terrified him when you were drunk. You were so... Open. It turned him into a nervous mess and he was never sure how to react to anything you were saying. It seemed like tonight, your confidence had been taken to the next level and you were even more daring than before. You weren't exactly a saint, but he knew for sure that this would never be something that you would offer to him if you had been sober. If you hadn't drank that night, the conversation probably would've just ended after you laughed at him and you would've forgotten than he had even told you that the next day.

"Hah! You're so cute! How do girls not rip their shirts off at the sight of you?" You pulled your lips into a smirk as you shifted your hand behind your back to fiddle with the clasp of your bra.

As the clasp fell apart, your boobs sank a little after being taken out of what was revealed to be a push-up bra. Despite them drooping a little, Yuta was mesmerised all the same, his eyes glistening as they landed on how perfectly tense your nipples looked in the dim lighting.

"Sorry. They're probably not as full as expected. Then again, beggars can't be choosers." You shrugged, allowing your bra to drop right next to your cast-away shirt.

"No, they're... They're exactly how I imagined them." His mouth practically watered at the sight of them and he seemed to be involuntarily inching closer to them. You broke out into a cheeky smirk after his response.

"Why don't you feel them?" You said, gripping onto a handful of your own tit in order to make the offer sound more enticing to him.

"...Really?"

"Go ahead. Feel how nice they are." You leaned forward a little bit, completely consenting to his curiosity.

He reached forward and hesitantly spread his palm over your left breast, squeezing it softly to gauge the feeling of it in his palm. He pawed nervously at the fat of your chest for about twenty seconds, but you quickly grew irritated with how slow he was taking it and rolled your eyes, clicking your tongue at your own impatience.

"Ugh, stop being so gentle!" You snapped, pushing yourself further into him so you were basically settled between his legs now. His heart thumped faster when more of your boob was pushed into his hand and he did just as you commanded him to.

He took his other unoccupied hand and reached for your other breast, grasping them as desperately as he wished he could've done so before. He fondled with them as if they were stress balls, feeling himself get lost in the sensation of your skin. They felt so tender, not exactly how he imagined they would be. For some reason, he always thought that boobs would be a lot more... Stiff, because of how they looked in bras, that was. But yours were so silky, so smooth. He pawed at them like a kitten would paw at carpet, his thumbs flicking over your sensitive nipples too.

"(Y/n), can I... Taste... Too?" His lips were already so close to your chest that he was just a few centimetres away from licking them himself.

"Greedy, aren't we?" You giggled, lifting your chest up towards him. "Go ahead."

He attacked his lips onto your nipple and treated it as if it were another pair of lips that he was kissing, his mouth running over your skin like a lollipop and licking every inch of it. You moaned softly and lifted your palm up to run your fingers through his hair as he pinched large areas in the fat of your boob so he could take more of your nipple into his mouth.

He felt like he was in heaven, and the soft whines that escaped from his mouth as he left sloppy kisses across your chest was proof of that. His pants began to tighten and he felt a tent form in his crotch, but he promptly ignored it because of his good he felt at the moment. You hadn't noticed how turned on he was getting just from sucking yourself tits because your eyes were fluttered closed at the sensation- All you were thinking was how warm the inside of his mouth felt.

"You have one minute left in there!" Nobara announced loudly on the other side of the wall, banging repeatedly on the door to let the two of you know that it was almost time to wrap it up.

"Ah! Would you look at the time!" You pushed Yuta's head away from your chest, causing him to whimper slightly as his lips lost connecting with your wet nipple. "Aren't you lucky? Spending six minutes in here touching boobs for the first time!"

He frantically went to cover his crotch with his palms as he regained his composure when you pulled away from him. He nervously continued to stare at you as you shoved yourself back into your bra and threw your shirt back over your chest, cleaning yourself up as if it had never happened. You still felt traces of his warm saliva linger on your skin even after you covered yourself back up, but it wasn't a feeling that wss visible to the outside eye.

When the time clocked, you swung the door open yourself a walked outside with a jolly stride, your smile beaming even brighter than ever. Passing by you as you left was Panda, Nobara, and Inumaki, who shoved themself inside of the cabinet before Yuta even had a chance to get up.

Yuta was pushed back down into his seat by Panda, who eagerly pushed himself onto where you had been previously sat so he, Inumaki, and Nobara could all face him with bright grins. Inumaki, being the last to enter, stood and shut the door so he could guard the entrance.

"Why are you guys coming inside—?!" Yuta was swiftly cut off by Panda, who was frantically shoving the coats out of his face so he could properly look at Yuta.

"We're not playing another round yet, we're just checking in on you! We wanna know how it goes!"

"Guys, please go away—" Yuta bit his tongue, feeling the humiliation creep further onto his face as he realised he had to shield the tent forming in his pants in front of his friends.

"Is that a boner?! No way, did you actually do it with (Y/n)?" Nobara’s jaw hung open.

"—No, we didn't!"

"Did she see it?" Panda intersected, his curiosity clearly taking over.

"No! ...I don't think so..."

"Knowing her, she probably didn't. It looks like it's super dark in here." Nobara squinted as she looked around, only seeing faint and dark silhouettes of the basic shapes inside the room.

"Salmon." Inumaki noted.

"Guys! Again, what is it you want?" He yelled, his face red with embarrassment- Though it wasn’t a colour that the trio could see very well in the darkness.

"Details! What happened? Tell us everything!" Nobara squealed, flapping her hands and tapping her feet excitedly as she implored him to continue.

"Mustard leaf!"

"And please, don't spare any details! We wanna know exactly what went down. Did she see your dick?"

"You guys are sounding really creepy..." Yuta’s teeth gritted at the sound of the numerous questions flowing into his brain. It just made it more difficult to conceal both his blush and his erection; he just hunched over and covered his lap with his arms and buried his face into his own shoulders.

"We just want to know! Stop stalling and give us the scoop!"

"Well..." He muttered, still looking down at his own lap. "…She let me see her boobs."

"She did?!" The three all exclaimed in unison.

"She even let me touch them... I was really hesitant at first, but she told me to stop being so gentle and basically forced me to grab more of her." His voice went shaky as he continued. "And she... Let me lick them as well."

"And you got a boner over that? I mean, I don't blame you! (Y/n) has beautiful tits." Nobara sighed in awe.

"Salmon."

"You're so lucky! Do you think if I was in here with Maki, she'd let me do the same to her?" The girl whined at the thought; her comment was promptly ignored by the others surrounding her.

"Well, congratulations, Yuta! You've practically taken the biggest step in your relationship with (Y/n)! This is huge for you!" Panda pushed Yuta’s head up to force him to look at his the friends- The black-haired man was immediately met with that same grin Panda always had after a stupid idea.

"Yeah, man! Come on! Stop being all fidgety!” Nobara slapped him playfully in the arm. “How did they feel?"

Yuta just whined a little as he readjusted himself to fully reveal his face to them once more. They saw how pink his cheeks were and how his lips quivered with both a mix of excitement and embarrassment. His palms were gripped tightly on his sleeves as he crossed his arms over his chest to truly convey his tense state.

There was a long moment of silence, accompanied by the sounds of Yuta’s soft breathing as he remembered vividly how the moment went down. Inumaki, Nobara, and Panda just looked at him wide-eyed, awaiting his answer to be served to them on a silver platter. After what felt like the most agonising ten seconds of piece and quiet, Yuta inhaled sharply as he ran his hands over his face before propping his chin up onto the palms of his hands, his lips thinning out into a nervous, straight line.

"...They were… Really soft..." He let out quietly, like it was some sort of crime to comment on the pleasure he felt during that very moment. "...I wanna hold them again..."

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #yuta okkotsu #yuta okkotsu smut #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x reader smut #nobara kugisaki #panda #toge inumaki

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fir3ylolol · 7 months

Text

i'll have what she's having

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: Johnny has insisted that you match with him at his Halloween party, which you obliged. but he's acting sort of weird? wonder what's up with him...

tw: mentions of drinking

a/n: i was inspired by @sillygooselulu to write a little fluff, and why not make it Halloween-themed! first real attempt at fluff which was kinda fun :) but don't worry, the 100-follower special should be out soon!

word count: 1.21 k

Ao3

You put on the last part of your Halloween costume and look in the mirror. Smoothing your pants, you turn and admire how you look. A pair of brown shoes, high-waisted jeans, a red turtleneck, and a brown blazer. Of course, ever the film nerd, Johnny wanted to go as Harry and Sally. You walk to your bathroom to finish your hair and face, sitting down with a huff. You had no idea where Johnny was, leaving you to get ready by yourself. You curl your hair into loose, tease out 80’s curls, and apply a wine-colored gloss to your lips.

You notice your phone buzzing on the bathroom counter and pick it up quickly. Johnny’s cheesy grin flashes across your screen and you pick up quickly. “Hey, you picked up! Where are you? You on your way yet?” He’s almost yelling in your ear, and you back the phone away from your ear. “I just finished, I’ll be there soon. You feeling good?” you manage to say without a laugh, his volume a clear indication that he’s already started to party. “I feel great! Hurry up and get over here!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll leave now then.” You grab your large leathery bag, which Johnny insisted on for “accuracy”. “Woohoo! I’ll see you soon!” He cheers, and abruptly hangs up. Sighing lightly, you leave to his place, LA traffic is not any better than usual. It takes about 30 minutes to get there, and when you do, you notice how many cars are in the driveway. There are at least 50, blocking areas and creating a maze. But, ever the gentleman, Johnny runs out, waving his garage controls above his head. He slightly runs into the car and sticks his head through the window. “You’re here! Go ahead, park in the garage. I’ll see you inside, ok? Bye!” He leaves before you can get a word out, leaving you in a stunned state.

You shake out of it, and pull into his garage quickly, walking into the house through that door. It is loud inside, with bass vibrating the floor and shot glasses tipped over on the counter. You shuffle through the crowd in front of you, searching for Johnny. And there he is, sitting on the couch and laughing loudly with more people than you think the furniture can handle. But he sees you and bolts up. In a large, white cable-knit sweater and jeans, he wraps you up in a hug. “Yay! My other half is here, guys!” He turns you towards the crowd, which loudly cheers for him.

He lets go of you and holds one of your hands, smiling widely. “I missed you,” he giggles out. “How much have you had to drink?” You touch a hand to his red cheeks, which he hisses at. “Your hands are too cold. But I’ve only had a little.” You start to drag him towards a balcony, and he follows behind you with shuffling steps. “Come on, you need fresh air,” you open the glass door and get him outside, shutting the door behind him.

“Ugh, fine,” he leans against the waist-height wall and looks out over Malibu. You stand beside him, wrapping an arm around him in a light hug. He turns to look at you, smiling just as wide as before, with slightly less red cheeks. “You know, you’re always so nice. I like having you around,” he says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in close. “I like being around man, it’s fun.” You laugh lightly as your face is shoved into his chest, pushing away a little.

Johnny pauses, face slightly dropping as he looks out again. “Hey, can I tell you something? Like, can you promise you won’t leave after I say it?” He sounds slightly serious, but drops it quickly, “Since people will keep asking why I didn’t dress up.” Taken slightly aback by his words, you try to join him in lightening the mood. “Unless you killed someone, I’m staying right here.” He pauses a little too long, and you panic slightly. “Y-you didn’t kill anyone, right??” He turns to you and laughs hard, leaning forward over the wall. “No! Why would I do that? God, you’re funny.” You breathe out a sigh of relief, you weren’t ready to keep a secret like that.

But he grows serious again, letting out what sounds like a nervous breath. “Well, we’ve been friends for a while, and I really like hanging out with you. You’ve stuck by me, even when my movies weren’t that successful.” He’s trying to lighten the mood again, but it’s not working. He coughs slightly, then continues. “Hold on, I memorized my lines.” Confused, you cock an eyebrow at him, but you’re used to his strange antics. He takes a deep breath and starts talking again. “I love that you get cold when it's 71 degrees out. I love that it takes you an hour and a half to order a sandwich. I love that you get a little crinkle above your nose when you're looking at me like I'm nuts. I love that after I spend the day with you, I can still smell your perfume on my clothes.” Your face slightly drops, and you recognize what he’s saying. It’s the speech at the end of ‘When Harry Met Sally.’ He continues, “And I love that you are the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep at night. And it's not because I'm lonely, and it's not because it's Halloween.”

He grabs both your hands, his grasp tight as he finishes, “I wanted you here tonight because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.” You’re in shock again, taking a long time to process all of this. But he stands there, uncharacteristically nervous. God, how much did he have to drink tonight? He tends to be a little less careful when he’s stressed, and if his nerves now are indicative, he is close to wasted. You snap out of it, and look into his eyes, finally smiling. “Johnny, you really had to quote a movie to confess?” He lets out a breath, shoulders falling forward. “Don’t tease! You’re just so cool, and attractive, and I didn’t want to lose you as a friend. So I figured I could maybe pass this off as part of my character, and not something I was saying.”

“Wait, is this why you really wanted us to dress up as Harry and Sally?” He wraps his arms around you tight, snuggling into your neck. “Maybe…was it bad?” You hug him back, hands tracing along his back. “Nah, it was cute. Nerdy, but cute.” Huffing, he pulls away, “You could’ve left it at cute.” But he pauses again, searching your face quickly. “So…do you wanna…be with me?” You smile and cup his face in one hand, bringing him in for a kiss. He melts into you, arms wrapping around your waist as yours wrap around his neck. You feel him smile, holding you tight against him. He finally pulls away, resting his forehead against yours. “I’ll take that as a yes then.”

#johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #mortal kombat #mk x reader #x reader #fluff #sfw

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lesbianrobin · 9 months

Text

you were warm when everything was cold

5,470 words

lucas/max, steve/eddie, lucas-centric

Lucas can't stop staring.

“Whaddya think?” Eddie twirls, showing off every angle of his borrowed letterman jacket with Harrington embroidered across the back. “So, Harrington? Gonna take me to the prom?”

Steve laughs, taking Eddie's outstretched hand and spinning him around again. “What, are we going steady?”

Eddie gasps. “Why, Steve, what kind of girl do you take me for? Of course we're going steady, I don't just go parking in cars with any old boy!”

Steve dissolves into laughter, pulling Eddie close by his belt loops and resting his forehead on his shoulder until the laughter subsides. Eddie runs his hands through Steve's hair aimlessly, playing with the strands, and shit, Lucas needs to look away, but he just can't.

“It looks good on you,” Steve says, so low that Lucas can barely make it out. He raises his head from Eddie's shoulder, leans in close so their foreheads are pressed together.

“Would you be mad if I added a few patches?”

“You can add patches if I can fix up the rips in your jacket.”

Eddie frowns. “Hey, I earned those rips.”

“And I earned my letterman.”

Eddie hums. “You'd make a good housewife.”

“How's that?”

“Well, you like to sew.”

“It's a basic life skill!”

“That you often practice for fun. You do all the cooking, you look after the kids, you love to clean…”

Steve clicks his tongue. “Only one problem there, Munson.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. He's doing a terrible job of hiding his smile. “Oh really? What's that?”

Steve lightly grabs Eddie by the front of his jacket. “I'm not doing all that for a bum.” He pushes Eddie back a little just to pull him back in, knocking their foreheads together.

Eddie gives up on hiding his smile. “Oh, a bum?”

“That’s right. I need a man with a good job. Steady paycheck.”

“I provide.”

“You think I'm gonna raise children with a drug dealer?”

Eddie laughs, shakes his head, leans even closer to Steve, and—Okay, yeah, Lucas has gotta look away. He turns back to the pile of clothes he and Max have been sorting through.

Max is looking right at him, single eyebrow raised. Lucas’s stomach drops. “What?”

Max shrugs innocently, looking down to the stack of clothes in her lap like nothing happened. “Nothing. You like this?” She holds up a dark blue turtleneck sweater.

“Uh, for me or for you?”

“You, I can’t stand stuff around my neck like that.”

It does look soft. “I’ll try it.”

Steve apparently has an infinite abyss for a closet. Every time Lucas thinks Steve must have brought down the last of it, there’s another box, another armful of sweaters and t-shirts and polo shirts that Steve doesn’t need anymore even though they’re functionally indistinguishable from the stuff he wears every day. He’s got a lot of jackets, too, and Max has already claimed three for herself while Lucas has yet to snag one. Probably because he’s been distracted from their treasure hunt by… Well. He’s not sure what.

There’s something about watching Steve and Eddie that makes his chest ache, just a little bit. Something that feels like it’s just out of reach, like if he could just jump an inch higher he could grasp it and know what it is, have a name for it, figure out what feels like it’s missing with Max. He never felt like something was missing with Max before. She was perfect. She is perfect! Like, sure, not actually perfect, because nobody’s actually perfect, but she’s perfect for him just like he hopes he’s perfect for her, and they’re perfect together.

Maybe Lucas is overcompensating.

Max has been more present lately. More herself. Honestly, if anything, she’s more herself than ever. Vecna gave her this… confidence, sort of. Sureness in herself. Like, she just has this aura now, like she’s been to hell and personally kicked the devil in the nuts, and even though he knows it’s because she did essentially go through hell and personally kick the devil in the nuts, Lucas still kind of loves it. It’s like he’s dating the actual Max Max, or Ripley from Alien.

And yet. Even though Max isn’t hiding anymore, even though they talk now, even though their relationship is objectively better than ever, sometimes Lucas is just a little bit sad.

—

Movie nights are becoming worryingly essential to Lucas's mental wellbeing.

It doesn't have much of anything to do with the movies. It's how he feels safe surrounded by all of his friends, how the darkness forms a blanket to block out the rest of the world. Everyone that matters is right there in the glow of the TV. He knows they're all safe.

Right now, half of them are asleep.

Erica conked out early. So did Robin, who's curled up into a little ball and snoring lightly against Steve. Steve is awake, but Eddie is asleep in his lap, Steve's arms around his waist and chin resting on his shoulder. Dustin is awake, but he keeps jerking his head suddenly, like he's trying to keep himself up, and Lucas figures it's just a matter of time before he's out, too.

Max is awake. She's lying on him, and Lucas knows from experience that his arm is going to fall asleep pretty soon if she doesn't move, but what kind of guy asks his girlfriend to get off of him? Maybe a guy who doesn't even like girls.

But he definitely likes girls. Like, that's not even remotely up for debate, and it's not some deep-seated repression thing, it's just the truth. He loves when Max lays on him, up until the point where his arm gets numb and tingly. So what gives? What's the problem?

Lucas closes his eyes. He tries to picture Max with short hair, although Eddie's hair is long, and El's is short, so maybe that doesn't mean anything. He imagines her with a sharper jaw, although Dustin's jawline is soft, and Nancy's is sharp, so that probably doesn't mean much either. He imagines a Max with broader shoulders, maybe an inch or so taller than him, a Max he has to lean up to kiss, a Max with more than just peach fuzz on her upper lip.

He's not particularly into it, but he's not repulsed, either. Franken-Max is still beautiful. Handsome. Lucas still loves him. But that's a bad example, probably, because he already has feelings for Max, and changing some superficial stuff doesn't change the feelings. Who's a hot guy celebrity? Max likes Ralph Macchio. When he thinks about Ralph Macchio, though, all Lucas really feels is jealousy, maybe a little bit of disdain. So he thinks of Han Solo. Lando Calrissian. Luke Skywalker. They aren't bad-looking, sure, but Lucas doesn't feel too strongly about any of them, appearance-wise. Maybe he just can't find guys in movies hot.

His mind drifts, as it often has lately, to Steve and Eddie. It's not the way they look that has Lucas obsessing over them. He knew Steve and Eddie both long before they were Steve-and-Eddie, and he never had this kind of fixation on either of them before. Well, sure, maybe he's spent some time looking at Steve's arms, but that was more of an athletic inspiration thing than anything else. What is it about the two of them together that's so fascinating?

So many little scenes are burned into Lucas's brain. Eddie holding the door for Steve, calling him sweetheart and babydoll and a thousand other little nicknames that make Lucas's face and ears go hot. Steve carrying Eddie piggyback through the rain because Eddie was wearing those ratty old Converse with the floppy sole and Steve was worried that if he stepped in a puddle he'd get frostbite or trench foot. The two of them sharing clothes, wearing each other's jackets. The way they move, how sometimes when the radio's on they'll dance, and first Eddie's the girl, and then Steve's the girl, and neither of them is actually a girl, and it doesn't even matter, it's all just whatever's fun in the moment, whatever makes them feel good, and holy shit. Oh, shit. Oh, God.

Lucas wants to fall asleep during movie night in Max's lap. He wants her to drape her jacket over his shoulders when he shivers. He wants her to put her arm around him, hold him like he's precious. He wants Max to want all of that, too.

His arm feels numb. If Lucas were a girl, or if Max were a boy, he'd ask if they could switch places. But he isn't, and she isn't, and what kind of guy asks his girlfriend to get off of him so he can use her as a pillow instead? Lucas isn't sure if there's a word for a guy like that. If there is, it probably isn't very nice.

So he lets his arm go numb. He tries not to look at Eddie, at the way he nuzzles into Steve's chest and Steve just holds him closer.

“Hey,” Max whispers in his ear. Lucas jerks a little in surprise and she huffs out a laugh. “You okay?”

“What?”

“You've been spacey lately,” she murmurs, “Usually you'd be trying to figure out the logistics of all the Muppet action.”

She's not wrong. Lucas is fascinated by how they make the Muppets ride bikes and stuff. There must be a lot of wires and people involved.

“Everyone's asleep,” Lucas whispers back, “Didn't want to talk. You know Erica hasn't been getting much sleep lately, didn't wanna mess it up.”

Max shifts, pulling Lucas' arm around her shoulders so she can snuggle into his side. It's a bit better, but now he's gotta endure the pins and needles phase.

“You're sweet.”

He can almost hear it, sweetheart like how Eddie says to Steve, but that isn't Max's style and it's silly of him to even think about it. It's not like he wants her to change. It's just nice to imagine a world where none of the gender shit really matters and they can be like Steve and Eddie, and Lucas can be held and feel safe because the real-life Ripley's got his back.

God, he's pathetic. Lucas sighs, flexing his arm to encourage that terrible tingling to run its course. He has an amazing girlfriend and he's whining about nothing. Well, whining to himself. In his head. It still counts. It's still total pussy behavior.

Lucas pulls Max closer, kisses the top of her head. He can feel her head turn to look up at him, but he keeps his gaze leveled at the TV, and she doesn't say anything. They're fine. He and Max are fine.

—

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Huh?”

Max turns her head sideways to take a bite out of her hot dog. It's cute. She always gets ketchup and mustard smeared on her nose if she just bites straight into it.

“It goes both ways,” she says, chewing, and it should be gross, but it's not, really, because it's Max. She finishes chewing and swallows before she opens her mouth again. “I'm your friend before I'm your girlfriend.”

“You got some…” Lucas picks up a napkin from the picnic table, leaning forward to wipe a smudge of ketchup off the corner of her mouth. He kisses her, quick, because he's there anyway, and she smiles into it before shoving him away.

“Nice try. You gonna answer me?”

“Answer what?”

Her smile fades. It's replaced by a look of concern that makes Lucas feel nauseous.

“You can talk to me. You know that. Right?”

"Right." Lucas takes a sip of his Coke, just for something to do with his hands.

“I'm not…” Max looks down, sighing before she meets his eyes again. “I'm doing better. I can… you don't have to be okay all the time, you know? You can tell me things. You can tell me anything.”

God, his chest aches. Lucas reaches out and takes her hand.

“I know,” he assures her. “I know.”

He hasn't seen Max look this deeply sad in a while. She looks down and lifts their entwined hands, pressing a kiss to the back of his knuckles, and his heart flutters.

“Okay,” she says. She lowers their hands, drops his, and picks up what's left of her hot dog.

As she tilts her head to the side and gets mustard on her cheek, Lucas gets the distinct impression that she doesn't believe him.

—

When did he start spending so much time around Steve and Eddie?

It sort of makes sense. He used to spend a small amount of time with Eddie, a moderate amount of time with Steve, and then they all went through some shit and bonded and Lucas's Eddie time got bumped up to moderate, and then Steve and Eddie became an annoyingly adorable package deal, and now Lucas can't escape them. He's a little pissed, honestly. Fuck them for being gay and in love and equal and shit. Ruining his life. Lucas has never really been the type to envy other people's happiness, and he feels like maybe Steve and Eddie are making him a worse person. Before, he always figured that if his friends are happy, then he's happy, and that's it.

Upon further reflection, though, it occurs to Lucas that perhaps he just never had friends with much of anything to envy.

“You look adorable, sweetheart,” Eddie states out of nowhere, and some small part of Lucas still expects Steve, with his jungle of chest hair and unreasonably large biceps and many years of womanizing, to shove Eddie away, to reject the sweet kiss Eddie presses to his cheek, but he doesn't. Of course he doesn't.

Lucas suddenly recalls the wild look in Steve's eye, the ferocity in his voice, the strength with which he batted the demodogs away back in the junkyard. It feels like so long ago.

Steve does sigh a little. When Eddie tries to move away, Steve tugs him to his side and kisses the mass of curls on his head. The vibe is kinda weird today. Steve seems… off. So does Eddie, but Eddie is so perpetually strange and erratic that Lucas could just be making shit up.

“Okay, okay,” Robin says, more to herself than anyone around her, “I think this is it? Yeah, this is…” She squints at the binder in her hand. “Okay, yeah!”

She hands over the impressively large binder to Steve and Eddie, who each hold one side so that it'll stay open and Robin can read her sheet music. Robin raises her trumpet to her lips. She pauses.

“Just remember, this is, like, totally unofficial, and I'm only playing one part, so it—”

Mike groans. “Oh my god, just play it.”

Nancy flicks his ear. He bats her hand away.

Robin waves Nancy off just before she delivers what looks like a devastating smack to the back of Mike's head. “No, he's—yeah, I'm gonna play it.”

She raises her trumpet, takes a deep breath, and then Lucas is hearing an incredibly loud rendition of the Star Wars theme reverberating through Mike's basement. It's honestly, like, really impressive. When Robin finishes, Lucas claps and whistles, and Mike says, "Holy shit, that was awesome," and Dustin and Nancy cheer too, and Robin's bashful smile warms Lucas's chest.

“Just imagine it with, like, a bunch of other trumpets and trombones and a tuba and some other horns and I think there's, like, piano and synthesizer and maybe a timpani too, but I think it sounds okay just with the trumpet. I mean, nowhere near as good, but you can, like, recognize it, you know?”

Robin's concert continues. This was supposed to be a big group study session, but Lucas doesn't mind the delay. Steve doesn't even need to study, he's just here because he's Robin's ride, so he'd probably say something if it was a problem. She plays Fly Me To The Moon and a few others that Lucas vaguely recognizes. Eventually, Robin tires, packing the trumpet away and condemning them all to hell.

“This shit sucks,” Dustin mutters, flipping a flashcard back and forth without looking at it.

Mike sighs his agreement.

Lucas shrugs. “At least we're not Eddie.”

All three of them glance over to where Nancy and Robin have been drilling Eddie for the past hour, only to find that he's nowhere to be seen.

“Huh. Guess he had enough.” Mike sounds jealous.

“I'm gonna go to the bathroom,” Lucas says, “Do me a favor and kill me when I get back.”

“Kill yourself,” Mike says.

“Don't worry, I'll kill you,” Dustin says supportively, “I'm a real friend.”

“Thanks.”

Lucas leaps over the coffee table to avoid disturbing the pile of backpacks and textbooks on the floor. He takes the steps two at a time, enjoying the chance to stretch his legs after an afternoon of sitting on Mike's couch. When he gets to the bathroom, the door is closed, and he reaches for the handle but freezes when he hears a voice.

“...didn't mean it like that,” Eddie says.

Lucas puts his hand down, but he inches closer to the door, just shy of pressing his ear up against the wood.

“I know, I already said it's fine.” Steve sounds tired.

“But it's clearly not because you're upset.”

“I'll get over it. You had a point.”

“Well, yeah, but I was being a total dick about it.”

“You know I don't mind a dick with… wait. Wait, I meant… uh, I'm used to your… shit.”

“You're used to getting dick from me? Or… uh, you don't mind a dick when it's mine?”

Steve snaps his fingers. “Yes! Yeah, those. Ugh, you're a genius.”

“No,” Eddie whines, “Don't be nice to me right now, I feel evil.”

“Ed, it's literally fine. You're right, it doesn't matter if I look perfect every time I walk outside.”

“But you do, that was my point, you don't need to worry about—”

“Eddie. Let it go. It's fine. I'm fine.”

“Can I just… Okay, I know this morning it seemed like I was just being an asshole because you were making us late with your hair stuff, but can I just explain what I meant to say?”

Steve sighs. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, go for it.”

“I just… I see you freaking out all the time about how you look, and what people think of you, and it's not that I think it's dumb, because I can understand wanting to feel confident and wanting people to accept you, but the thing is that you don't have to do that. You don't have to. You are the kindest, sexiest, most badass person I know, and that's not something you have to put on for other people, it's just who you are. So it drives me crazy to see you driving yourself crazy over who thinks you're a loser and who thinks you're a douchebag and all of that, because not only does it not matter at all what some random assholes think of you, but, like, when you're just yourself? When you're just being yourself, Steve, everyone falls in love with you, that's how I fell in love with you, and it breaks my fucking heart when you feel like you need to put on some kind of act or have perfect hair or whatever for people to like you, because you don't.”

Silence. Lucas waits, afraid that somehow they realized he was listening, but then Steve speaks, his voice thick with emotion.

“You love me?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes immediately. “Yeah, I hadn't mentioned?”

“Mm, no, no, I think I'd remember if you—”

“You sure? You forget things a lot, you know—”

“Oh, shut up, I love you.”

“Ardently?”

“If that means a whole lot.”

“More or less. Means passionately. It's, uh…” Lucas can hear the embarrassment in Eddie's voice. He doesn't think he's ever seen Eddie embarrassed before. “It's from Pride and Prejudice.”

Steve laughs. “God, I love you. Then yes, Eddie Munson, I love you ardently.”

“And I you, Steve Harrington,” Eddie says, with a tinge of that regality he uses for upper-crust NPCs, but it sounds sincere at the same time, nothing about it even remotely artificial. “I love and admire you ardently.”

Lucas backs away from the door. His head feels kinda… buzzy, as he walks to the upstairs bathroom. He shouldn't have been listening in. That was a private moment, seemingly an important one, but Lucas has terrible impulse control lately and he has that feeling again, that one like he's reaching up for something that's barely out of reach, his fingers brushing it when he jumps, but he just can't quite jump high enough to get his hand around it and bring it down to his level.

When he gets back downstairs after his overly long bathroom break, he says he's feeling sick and heads home early. Steve seems concerned, but even as he asks if Lucas needs anything, he has this air about him, like he'd float right off the ground if his shoes weren't weighing him down. It's been a long time since Lucas felt like that.

He goes home. He switches out his jeans for sweatpants. He lays in bed, he stares at the ceiling, and he wonders.

Steve has kind of been, like, the pinnacle of being a man to Lucas these past few years. He's cool. He's strong. He's brave. He always goes in first, always comes out last, always puts himself between the people he loves and the source of danger, and Lucas wants to be like that. He's always tried to be a good friend, to listen and empathize and help when he could, but once the world shifted and suddenly bullies weren't the biggest threat in everyone's lives, he was left reeling.

He can still remember fumbling with his wrist rocket, shooting rocks at the Demogorgon because there was nothing else he could do, and he remembers the dawning realization that he was going to fail, and that his friends were going to die, and that it was going to be because he wasn't strong enough.

Steve fought off the Demogorgon.

He had a bat, yeah, and a lot more height and muscle than Lucas, but still. He did it. And if he could do it, then maybe so could Lucas one day, if he just kept working out, kept practicing with his wrist rocket and watching The Karate Kid. In retrospect, Lucas's logic wasn't great, but he was in middle school, so whatever. He's gotten a lot smarter since then. The wrist rocket is more useful for distraction than outright combat, and karate moves aren't really that helpful in a fistfight.

Steve was just… always solid. He always bounced back. He could take the worst beating Lucas had ever seen and then get up and save the world, and he was always okay at the end of the day, always Steve underneath no matter how bloody and bruised he was on the outside.

Lucas has never been hurt like that, but he's still had nightmares for about four years now. They never really go away. They aren't constant, but every time he thinks maybe he's kicked it, they come right back and leave him panting, sweaty, trembling with the lamp on at three in the morning because he needs to have a light or else he won't know that something's coming. He worries about not being strong enough. He worries about not being enough in general.

According to Eddie, all this time, Steve's been worrying too. Worrying what people think of him. Trying to earn his keep and be what everyone else wants him to be. Showing up late sometimes not because he was too cool to care about being on time, but because he was trying to make sure he looked perfect before going out in public. Eddie wasn't just complimenting him out of the blue earlier for no reason, he was trying to reassure him, comfort him, because Steve Harrington has insecurities. It should have been common sense, but the knowledge hits him like a firework to the face, lighting everything up and leaving Lucas disoriented in its wake. What else has he been missing?

When Steve and Eddie started dating, they didn't, like, announce it or anything. They just didn't hide it, and eventually everyone got the memo, and Lucas is still deeply ashamed of the fact that he was one of the last to realize. It was less about the fact that Steve was dating a man and more about the fact that Steve was letting a man stroke his hair and put a leather jacket on his shoulders and call him dollface, like, seriously. Lucas thought it was a joke. In his defense, he thinks a lot of Eddie's little nicknames are jokes, but there's also something painfully earnest about them that he recognizes now, like each one is a little I love you, and it had been hard for Lucas to see Steve as somebody who wanted that, as someone who needed reassurance and affection and wanted to be treated with care.

Maybe Steve has nightmares too. Maybe even muscles and a nail bat aren't enough to keep the demons at bay. Maybe if Lucas stopped hiding the fact that he needs reassurance and affection and sometimes he wants to be treated with care, maybe if he talked to Max… But Max has had to deal with so much worse. It wouldn't be fair to just dump all of his issues on her, too.

God, she'd be mad if he said that out loud. Lucas can almost hear her voice, saying something like, don't decide for me what I can and can't handle, and he smiles, alone in his room staring up at the ceiling, because he's been a little bit of an idiot.

If even Ripley can need some support now and then, why can't he?

—

“You seem lighter.”

“Hm?”

Max nudges his leg with her own. “That thing you've been weird about all month. You figure it out?”

Nobody is paying attention to them, sitting on the floor in front of Mike's couch side by side. The others are all debating something to do with DnD, he thinks, but he hasn't really been paying attention. Max rented The Karate Kid, and the two of them have been focused on the movie while everyone else got distracted.

“I think so,” Lucas says, and takes a chance. He leans over, resting his head on Max's shoulder, and immediately her arm comes up to wrap around him.

“And you're not gonna dump me?”

Lucas sits up to look at Max incredulously. “What? Why would I dump you?”

She looks embarrassed. She leans in and lowers her voice. “Okay, don't be, like, offended, and this might make me sound stupid, but I noticed you've been looking at Steve and Eddie a lot lately.”

“Oh my god,” he mumbles, and Max laughs.

“So, you’re not…”

“No.”

“That’s good.” Her eyes widen a little bit as soon as the words leave her mouth. “Uh, I mean, that’s good for me as your girlfriend, not, like, in general. And I mean, obviously you could like guys and still like me, but, you know, you seemed really deep in thought, so…”

Lucas laughs. “Wait, so you thought I was, like, having a sexuality crisis, and you didn’t…”

“I didn’t want to push you on it,” she shrugs, “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready. But then you just seemed like you were getting more upset about it, and you were doing that thing where you pretend like you don’t have feelings—”

“What? I don’t—”

Max raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, you do.”

“...Maybe.” Lucas sighs. “I kind of was. But that wasn’t… it wasn’t about, like, guys. Trust me, I tried, and the closest I got to being into a dude was you.”

Max’s face scrunches up. “Me?”

“It’s… listen, I was going through a lot of hypotheticals!”

She giggles. “And one of them was me as a guy? Was I hot?”

Lucas shrugs. “Yeah, I wasn’t not into you.”

“High praise.”

“No, it was…” Lucas trails off, unsure of how to say it. He turns back to the TV and lowers his head to Max’s shoulder again. She lets him, wrapping her arm around him, and actually, how did Lucas ever think this would be wrong? It’s Max. It’s only Max.

“I wanted this,” he mumbles.

“This?”

He grabs her hand where it rests on his arm. “Yeah. You know, they always… like, I just wanted you to hold me.”

“Lucas,” Max says, her voice uncharacteristically tender.

“I’m not saying I wanna be all gross like them, but… I don’t know.”

“...Could I give you my jacket sometimes?”

“Oh my god, yes,” Lucas says, and Max laughs.

“You don’t even know how many times I’ve wanted to give you my coat because you never learn—”

“I learn!”

“No, you dress for fashion instead of function and then you freeze your ass off!”

Lucas laughs too, turning to bury his face in Max’s dark blue jacket, one of the ones she snagged from Steve, and she tugs him closer until he’s practically sitting in her lap. He feels light, like he might float away if she wasn’t holding on to him. But she is. She’s holding him, and she’s laughing, and none of their friends seem to have noticed anything different. It’s just Max, and Lucas, and they’re better than ever.

—

Lucas holds the door for Max, letting her enter Family Video ahead of him. Steve and Robin are at the counter, Robin gesturing wildly as usual. Steve raises a hand, waving as Lucas and Max approach. “Hey, nice jacket, Sinclair. Is that one mine?”

“It’s mine now,” Max says, wrapping an arm about Lucas’s waist and pulling him into her side. “He only wore a t-shirt even though it’s freezing out because he needed everyone to see his arms.”

He rests his arm over her shoulders. “I don’t need to bring a jacket, I have you.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know, one of these days I’m not gonna take pity on you and I’m gonna let you freeze to death.”

Lucas hadn’t even been cold when Max took off her jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders. She had just done it out of the blue, stepped back, grinned, and said he looked good.

Robin sighs. “Ugh, you two are adorable. See, Steve, this is what I’m talking about!”

“And I’m telling you, all you have to do is have a conversation like a grown-up!”

“But it’s scary,” Robin whines, leaning her forehead against Steve’s chest and groaning. He pats her head comfortingly.

“I know. Max, I got your stuff on hold right over there.” Steve nods at a small stack of tapes on the counter. “Already checked them out for you.”

“You had stuff on hold?”

Max had spontaneously decided she wanted to have a home movie night instead of going to the theater, and Lucas had assumed it was just because she didn’t feel like going out.

She pulls him over the counter, and Lucas sees all three Star Wars movies in a neat pile.

“Surprise!”

Max isn’t that into Star Wars. She likes watching horror movies on date night, and she hates sitting through more than one movie at a time, but here she is with three space operas and a tentative smile on her face, and Lucas can’t help it.

“I love you.”

Max raises her eyebrows before dissolving into laughter. “That’s it? This is the moment?”

“Yes, shut up!”

She does not shut up. Max continues laughing. “Really? Because I rented Star Wars?”

“Because you know me.” Lucas grins. “You love me.”

“Well, yeah,” Max says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like he’d said that the sky is blue or that El’s a superhero.

Lucas hears a high-pitched squeal, and he turns to find Steve with a hand clamped over Robin’s mouth. Her eyes are wide and excited.

“Go have your little date before she explodes,” he says, waving them off.

“Thanks, Steve.” Max takes the tapes and turns to the door. Lucas jogs ahead to open it for her.

As Lucas follows her outside, part of him feels like he might just float off the asphalt right into the clouds, but he doesn’t worry about it. There’s no need. Max is right there, and he’s wrapped in her jacket, and she’s taking his hand for the short walk from the store to their bikes. No, Lucas won’t float away.

Max will keep him tethered.

#lesbianrobin.fic #stranger things fic #lucas sinclair #lumax #steddie #st fic #em talks #stranger things #btw this was written prior to volume 2!! pls keep that in mind #i've had people on ao3 be like uh but lucas HAS been hurt like that 🤨 and it's like i know but that had not happened yet. sorry.

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