#and you never forget that either and as much as he cheated his way through he still failed it was all just a cheap trick in the end | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marimogf-archived · 5 months

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it's mr. steal your girl!

synopsis: getting stood up by your boyfriend on your birthday? don't worry, your best friend, infinite flirt satoru gojo, will never let you down!

genre / au: porn with a little plot? best friend!satoru, best friends to lovers, little fluff at the end, very little angst

contains: EXPLICIT CONTENT (MINORS DNI), afab!reader, slight dom!satoru, reader wears makeup and a dress, cheating, use of petnames (good girl, sweetheart, baby etc.), daddy kink, size kink, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, photo taking, shitty bf naoya; wc: ~4.1k

happy reading, i hope you enjoy! as always, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!! 🩷

PLEASE READ MY DNI BEFORE INTERACTING!

satoru gojo is a player. or so the rumours say. everyone who talks about him says so. dubbed “mr. steal your girl” with how fast he had people falling for him, taken or not. that he's overly flirty, he hooks up with people on a whim and is not a fan of commitment.

but oh dear, was he committed to getting into your pants.

ever since he was introduced to you, arms interlinked with your boyfriend, naoya, he fantasised about being what the zen’in brat was for you. he could never treat you right, unlike satoru.

over time, the two of you got closer and closer, much to naoya’s dismay. but who was he to stop the great satoru gojo from seeing you? exactly.

most of your conversations were about your boyfriend. satoru telling you how much he hated how the zen’in heir treated you, how he was trying to keep you to himself and how you deserved better. the smile on his face fading whilst he listened to you defending naoya, trying to be a good wife-to-be, not expecting anything back from him.

satoru’s everlasting smile turned upside down, trying to understand what it was about him that had you so wrapped around his finger.

even today, on your birthday, he wasn't there. and yet you never uttered a bad word about him. even on this important day, he didn't care.

naoya had been called to an emergency clan meeting, apparently forgetting to give you a head’s up. not even a “happy birthday” text, nothing. you had waited for an hour at the restaurant until you got the call from him, telling you that he was tired after the meeting and wishing you happy birthday in that disgustingly bored tone of his.

with your heart in pieces, you called satoru right after, not wanting to waste the reservation and have a nice dinner either way. he took it as an opportunity to scrutinise naoya again, rightfully so.

“please, he could be treating you so much better. he acts like you're just an incubator for his heir and it's honestly annoying. he doesn't respect you at all and never will. he doesn't keep you around to marry, you're just a fleshlight for him. does he make you cum?,” he stated, sipping on his way too sweet tea.

you gasp at his lewd question, slapping his arm lightly and looking around to see if anyone heard him. heat was rising to your cheeks in embarrassment.

“what are you saying, of course he does!” you hissed, lying through your teeth.

satoru smirked, catching you red-handed. “you're lying and not even good at it.”

with a huff, you crossed your arms and watched how his eyes dipped to your accentuated chest and back to your face.

“okay, maybe he doesn't and i have to fake it sometimes but it still feels good. why do you even care?”

the white-haired man leaned forward, head resting on his large hand. his ocean eyes peering into yours over his sunglasses, making you squirm in your seat.

“because i want my best friend to be happy and making you cum is a part of that. it can't be that hard to make you orgasm, even naoya could do it if he cared. but he doesn't. hell, he stood you up on your own birthday because of his stupid clan meeting!”

you squinted at him, trying to ignore the thrumming in your chest as you uttered the next words.

“what? like you could treat me better?”

oh, now you've done it.

he finished his drink before grabbing your wrist and pulling you away to his car. the drive back to his apartment was tense, his warm hand on your thigh as he concentrated on the road. you squirmed, not having expected him to actually take the bait.

yes, he was your best and closest friend but he never lied about finding you hot. he never lied about his distaste for naoya, always bragging how much better he would treat you if you just gave him a chance. but because he was satoru gojo, the infinite flirt, you never thought he'd actually mean it.

he parked the car, getting out to open the passenger door for you. placing a hand on the small of your back to guide you to the front door. the smell of his cologne was overtaking your senses, getting dizzy at the prospect of actually getting in his pants.

unlocking his apartment door, he took off his sunglasses before gently taking your hand and guided you to the bedroom. as you took a tentative seat on his bed, looking around the room to avoid eye contact, satoru took a few steps towards you.

“we don't have to do it, you know. wouldn't want you to get in trouble with the zen’ins. not that i couldn't protect you. i’ll kill them if needed,” he said, kneeling in front of you and placing a warm hand on your knee.

“i just can't stand to see you so upset on your birthday and i wanna show you what it's like to be treated well because your dickhead of a boyfriend can't.”

your heart broke because you knew on the inside he was right. naoya didn't care about you at all, it was all a facade for his parents so they would stop pestering him to get married. but he never had any intention of putting a ring on your finger or having a long term relationship. you never even met his family, he didn't even invite you to his home. it was a purely physical relationship with someone you weren't compatible with with no regard for you. and for what?

it hurt. it hurt bad and you wanted satoru to take the pain away.

your eyes rose to look at him, tears brimming in them. as always, satoru read you like an open book. no matter how much you would try to hide it, he was always acutely aware of your emotions. when you nodded, giving him the green light, he smiled widely.

he rose, face to face with you, before gently kissing you and tasting the tears that started to roll down your cheeks. a whine escaped your throat, instantly being swallowed up by satoru’s lips and stored away in his memory. your eyes fluttered closed and you felt the heat rising in your cheeks once again.

his lips were so perfectly soft against yours and your hands slid up to his chest to grip his shirt. his big hands were on your neck and cheek, holding you close as his tongue swiped over your bottom lip.

your lips parted willingly, letting his tongue slide against yours. meanwhile, your fingers did quick work of the buttons of his shirt, leaving him in just a black tank top that stretched over his muscular pecs. your hands slid underneath the shirt, sliding it off his shoulders and exposing his toned arms.

his hands slid down to your shoulders, playing with the straps of your skimpy dress. he pulled away, a tiny smile playing on his lips as he watched your already dazed expression.

“you were trying to get some tonight, hm? dressed like that,” he murmured against your lips. his smile widened as you nodded, averting your gaze in embarrassment. though he wasn't the man you had intended to be in bed with, you weren't complaining.

satoru was an attractive man, no one could deny that. his snow white, fluffy hair, his cerulean blue eyes, his soft lips. down to his lean build, muscles invisible under his baggy clothes and only exposed to those who have the honour to take him to bed.

“i know i’m not your boyfriend, but i’ll show you how he should be treating you,” satoru’s voice was low and his tone so sincere that tears burned in your eyes again. his calloused thumb wiped away the stray ones escaping, kissing your mascara-stained cheeks.

his kisses started travelling lower, along your jawline and down your neck. you closed your eyes with a sigh as satoru’s soft lips explored your hot skin. he gently pushed you back onto the soft mattress, his lips never leaving your neck. his tall frame towered over you, a feeling of safety embracing you.

he alternated between sucking and biting, marking you as his. quiet moans left your lips as his large hands found your soft breasts, massaging them through your dress. your nipples were already perked up, visible through the thin fabric.

“‘toru…” you whimpered, hands gripping his broad shoulders. your sounds were music to his ears. he pinched your nipples through your dress, making your back arch into him. that gave him the perfect opportunity to slide the straps off your shoulders, exposing you to the cold air in his bedroom as well as his hungry eyes.

“what is it, sweetheart?” he taunted, leaning down again to ravage your chest, hot mouth engulfing your perked bud. you whined, your hands finding purchase in his soft hair. the other breast was also getting attention. his big hand squishing it, rolling the sensitive nipple between his fingers. switching sides, the cold air made your saliva-slicked bud even more sensitive. he gently bit your nipple, making you moan his name and pull his hair.

pulling him off of you, he looked at you with dilated pupils and a cocky grin on his lips. your heavy breaths making your chest rise and fall.

“please, just make me forget about him.”

your dress was off in seconds, leaving you just in your skimpy lace underwear that sported a wet patch already. he took off his clothes down to his boxers equally as fast before focusing his attention back on you.

you felt so small underneath his intense gaze, his body framing yours as he leaned over you again to kiss you feverishly. you pulled him closer, hands wandering over his hot skin, feeling his muscles twitch and flex. satoru had a way of making everyone around him feel small due to his height but now you truly felt tiny underneath his large frame.

his kisses trailed down your chest again, going lower and lower until he knelt between your legs, nipping at the skin of your thighs. you sat up on your elbows to see his darkened eyes and his nose nudging against your covered cunt, inhaling your scent.

“all this for me? you shouldn't have,” he smirked, pressing a soft kiss against your clothed clit. you whined his name, wiggling and hinting at him to get on with it. he let out a chuckle and hooked his fingers under the waistband to pull your soaked underwear down your legs, a string of arousal connecting your cunt and the fabric. throwing the skimpy fabric over his shoulder, he placed his warm hands on the inside of your soft thighs as you tried to close your legs.

“nuh uh, baby, let me see what naoya’s been claiming.”

satoru gojo may not be a fan of commitment. but currently, he was hopelessly devoted to you.

okay, you and your wet cunt in front of his face. your folds were glistening with arousal, the scent of it overtaking his senses. all for him and him only.

he had dreamed about this for a long time. to have you like this underneath him, bashfully writhing and moaning for him to hurry up.

his lips found your thigh, fangs showing to nip your skin and mark you. you were watching him intently, mouth agape and drool threatening to run out of the corner.

when his hot tongue finally made contact with your pussy, your head fell back and a loud moan left your lips. the wet appendage was lapping up your juices and he moaned at your sweet taste. his eyes were trained on your face, brows furrowed in concentration.

he was dead set on fulfilling your wish. to make you forget your shitty boyfriend, erasing every bad memory from your mind and body.

his hands gripped your thighs, nails leaving crescent marks as your hips moved on their own, grinding against his hot mouth. his tongue flattened against your clit, providing you with just enough friction to grind against.

his scalp started to burn pleasantly with the way you were pulling him, using him to get yourself off. his tongue was so hot and wet against you and his lips curled into a smile when he noticed your moans getting louder and your hips stuttering against him.

he pulled away just as you were tiptoeing on the brink of orgasm, a needy whine leaving your lips.

“hah… why'd you stop, ‘toru? please, wanna cum,” you whimpered and he almost gave in if it wasn't for his plan.

his fingers spread your lips, watching your tiny hole clench around nothing. your glistening arousal dripping down your hole made his mouth water again. his long middle finger slid into your warmth slowly, your arms giving out underneath you and your back arching towards him.

he curled his finger upwards, finding the spongy spot in your walls almost immediately and abusing it right away. whimpers left your throat and you gripped the sheets next to you, fucking yourself on his finger.

“fuuck baby, s’tight. naoya isn't fucking you right, is he?”

a rhetorical question. if he would, you wouldn't be in this predicament.

he added a second one, his larger fingers stretching you out and reaching spots inside you that naoya never could. but just as you were close to cumming, he pulled his finger out, leaving you high and dry again.

“why'd you do that? i wanna cum, ‘toru, please, just let me,” you cried out, leaning up on wobbly arms with huffs and puffs.

“because i haven't given you your birthday taps yet.”

your eyes widened at his insinuation. satoru grinned at you before his big hand made contact with your pussy again.

but not in the way you had hoped and wanted.

a harsh slap echoed through the room, followed by a whine from your lips. the man between your legs grinned, fangs shining in the low light of your bedroom.

“c’mon baby, you gotta count,” he teased, calloused fingers drawing gentle circles on your swollen clit. “for good luck.”

you couldn't concentrate, feeling dizzy at the stimulation and your two denied orgasms already. but to satoru’s delight, you started counting. he kept going, always giving you a little breather in between and rubbing your clit or pushing his fingers inside you to keep you on edge. your thighs were trembling, littered with marks and your voice was starting to give out at the halfway point.

“please ‘toru, i wanna cum so bad,” you pleaded, gripping his wrist and looking at his smug face with tears rolling down your cheeks.

“you're almost done, baby. if you finish without cumming, i’ll give it to you,” he spoke, thumb rubbing your hot skin soothingly. truthfully, satoru didn't even know how he was lasting, dick painfully hard and dripping against the mattress. but he restrained himself somehow.

for you.

the last few slaps against your cunt were torturous, stars dancing behind your eyes with each slap and the coil threatening to snap.

“okay, you're done, baby. did s’well, you deserve a reward now, hm?” satoru teased before plunging two fingers into your dripping pussy, his tongue wet against your clit.

your back arched unnaturally off the bed, hands gripping his white strands. you almost blacked out from the pleasure as your hips gyrated against his fingers.

“oh, s’good, tha…thank you, thank you,” you panted, chasing ecstasy, “fuck, feels so good.”

“yeah? better than your shitty boyfriend?” he cooed, watching you get yourself off on him. your skin was glistening with sweat, the smell of your arousal filling the whole room and your moans just music to his ears.

“can't believe he'd wanna miss out on this,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you. not that you would've heard, too busy getting lost in the pleasure.

“m’close, pleasepleaseplease, daddy!! please let me cum!” you begged and satoru’s heart leaped out of his chest at the nickname. he'd never expected you to call someone daddy but now that he heard it once?

he never wanted anyone else to hear it.

“come on then, make a mess, baby,” he said, giving you the green light, “make a mess on daddy’s fingers.”

satoru watched in delight as your body convulsed and your cunt gushed clear liquid into his waiting mouth. he was drinking up your juices and moaning against you, prolonging your orgasm. he slowed down his fingers, giving your clit kitten licks before pulling out with a wet squelch. his fingers were drenched in your juices and he lifted himself up, pushing his fingers past your lips.

he could've sworn he blacked out for a second when you looked at him with fucked out eyes and heart-shaped pupils. sucking your essence off his fingers and moaning around them.

“fuck, you're so hot. i can't believe he doesn't wanna fuck you 24/7. such a good girl,” he whispered. you whined, brain scrambled from how hard you came.

he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, giving you a heated kiss before rummaging around his room for a condom. once you came to your senses again and realised what he was looking for, you called out to him.

“satoru.”

he turned around, looking at you getting on your hands and knees shakily and looking back at him. his dick twitched in his underwear as you wiggled your ass at him, cunt dripping onto the sheets.

“you don't need one.”

at the premise of fucking you raw, he got behind you, boxers discarded in seconds and his fat cock grinding against your wet heat. your arousal was lubricating his length before he slowly pushed into your warm, wet cunt. he let out a moan, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. he bottomed out, feeling you clench around him and he tried his hardest not to bust right there.

“oh m’god, so big,” you whimpered, arms threatening to give out. one of satoru’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you up and closer to him. the other snaking up for his hand to cover your throat and squeezing gently. his chest was pressed against your arched back, his whole body caging you.

“yeah? like being filled up with daddy's cock?” he whispered in your ears and you whined, feeling your cunt stretching out. his hand snaked down to your sensitive clit, slowly circling his fingers and adding to the stimulation.

“s’good, daddy, please fuck me,” you moaned, drool escaping the corner of your mouth as you held onto satoru’s strong arms.

he started moving at your command. slowly, gently, feeling your walls hug his length so deliciously. his dick hit every sensitive spot of your walls, mushroom tip nudging against your cervix.

“fuck, baby, y’r so tight, so good f’me,” he grunted, leaning down to press a chaste kiss on your shoulder before picking up the pace. his hips snapped against yours, your tits jiggling with every thrust.

your lips were parted, letting out a constant stream of moans at how deliciously painful satoru’s swollen tip bruised your insides. stretching you out and nudging that gummy, sensitive spot inside you that had you reeling towards the edge.

“g’na cum again, daddy. pleaseplease let me cum!” you whined, nails leaving red marks on his skin as you struggled to keep your hold on him. satoru smirked against your skin, sinking his teeth into your shoulder with a groan when you clenched around him. you were trying so hard to keep it in, to be a good girl.

all for him.

“cum for me then, make a mess on my cock, baby,” he whispered in your ear. he held you close to him as you shook, pussy clenching and gushing around him and soaking the sheets.

“oh fuuck, oh my god!” you whimpered when he slowly thrusted into you. he was prolonging your orgasm while inching closer to his own, your sensitive walls hugging his length so tightly.

satoru let go of you, letting you fall to the mattress. one of his hands gripping your hip tightly. the other was grabbing your hair, pulling your torso up. putting his foot onto the mattress for leverage, his thrusts began to speed up, a constant slapping sound echoing through his bedroom. his pink lips were parted, letting out deep grunts and moans of your name.

“gonna fill y’up, baby. gonna breed this little pussy, get you all nice and pregnant, so that asshole knows you’re mine. you'd like that, wouldn't you?,” he grumbled, completely pussydrunk.

“please, daddy, fill m’up, make me yours,” you mewled, absolutely drunk off the way he was hitting your g-spot over and over again. the coil in your stomach was tightening yet again.

his hips snapped into you, just a few thrusts more until he was stilling inside you. bottomed out, he let out a long moan as rope after rope of his cum painted your insides white. the warm feeling of his seed made you cum yet again, coating his length in your essence.

you two stayed still for a breath before satoru pulled out with a lewd squelch, watching as his cum slowly dripped out of your clenching hole. he grabbed the flesh of your buttock, using two fingers to push his cum back into you. he then took your phone, snapping a picture of your leaking cunt and sending it to naoya.

captioned: “it's mr. steal your girl! :3”

he wanted to block the contact but refrained, just for you to see his reaction. while he got off the bed, you flopped onto your side, heavy breathing making your chest rise and fall. he leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your sweaty forehead, whispering that he'll be right back.

you didn't come back to your senses for a while, trying to make up what actually happened. guilt and anxiety overtook you, but the pleasant buzz of sex overshadowed it soon enough.

satoru returned quickly with a wet washcloth and a glass of water with a straw. he held it out for you, watching with heart-shaped pupils as you emptied the glass in mere seconds. the wet washcloth met your face, gently wiping away the sweat before he reached between your legs, wiping away the remnants of both your orgasms.

your eyes were struggling to stay open, trying desperately to fight sleep. a content smile lifted the corners of your mouth, a gentle simmer overtaking your heart.

“so this is how the great satoru gojo treats his hookups, huh?” you mumbled, not really expecting an answer. satoru’s hand settled on your cheek, thumb rubbing soothingly over the hot skin. the gentle touch forced you to look at him, tears burning in your eyes at the prospect of facing your actual boyfriend.

as if he could read your troubled mind, satoru leaned down again to press his lips against yours, trying to convey the loving thrum of his heart with just a kiss. but just in case it wouldn't work, he parted from you to speak.

“you weren't just a hookup though. this is how the great satoru gojo would treat his potential girlfriend if she would finally break up with her scumbag of a boyfriend,” he murmured, nose nudging yours, forcing an exhausted giggle out of you.

“but good thing, i already did it for you!” he held the phone up to your face, showing you the photo he sent to naoya as well as the slur of angry messages that followed, including one stating that he was breaking up with you. reading through it all with a slacked jaw, a breathy laugh erupted from your chest.

the realisation hit you in the face. you were finally free from the zen’in clan and their horrid heir. not that they'd care anyway.

“you're unbelievable, satoru!”

he took the liberty of blocking the contact now, setting your phone down on the nightstand.

“i truly really like you, i didn't just wanna give you some mind-blowing birthday sex. not that i’m complaining,” he laughed, reaching out for your hand. the giggle that left your lips had his heart doing somersaults.

“i truly want to see you happy and i’m a firm believer that you would be by my side. i know i always joke about it but i’m being honest right now. will you please be my girlfriend?” he asked, voice quiet and almost insecure which was an unusual phenomenon.

you felt your heartbeat pick up, the organ thrumming against your ribcage. you always had eyes for satoru. truthfully, you got with naoya out of spite in hopes that the feelings would subside. but the truth would always prevail.

“is that a rhetorical question? of course i will!”

satoru gojo, "mr. steal your girl", has only ever stolen one girl in his life and that was you.

but by god, was it worth it.

a/n: WAHHHHHHH it's finally out of my system!! this is dedicated to my favourite gojo fucker @jabamin for her and gojo's birthday 🩷 (everyone go wish karina a happy birthday or else 🫵🏼) thank you to @tojiella for your help proofreading, also tagging @screampied @ramonathinks @c0pkiller @tetsuskei and @gojoest as fellow gojo lovers teehee. i hope you enjoyed, love you so much 💗

#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x reader smut #satoru x reader #satoru smut #satoru x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen satoru #enough tags now #˚₊‧꒰ writing ꒱ ‧₊˚

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mackandcheezy · 5 months

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Beneath the White Sheets (Young! President! Coriolanus Snow x Reader)

A/N: A simple domestic fluff turned slightly sensual hot, slightly crazy, boyfriend who can’t keep his hands to himself. For my lovely anon who just wanted something less depressing than the typical hunger games fic

People are utterly stupid. At least that’s what Coriolanus had been telling himself for the past two hours. Being made president of Panem was everything he had ever wanted and more but he couldn’t stand how much conversation it involved. He could never stand to fraternize with those less intelligent than himself and that seemed fo be all this was comprised of. Though it all was worth it to come home to you.

You had met in school, what felt like such a long ago. Started as enemies as all good lovers do, competing to mentor the best tribute for the 10th hunger games. Yours had died before even making it to the arena, a fact Coryo never quite let you forget, or the fact that his won. But you were always quick to remind him that he cheated so it didn’t count. The same small frown would appear on his face at the mention of Lucy Gray.

You knew they had a history, but you also knew that nobody could ever love you the way he did. On a fundamental level she would always resent who he was, how he was raised, his “kind.” You on the other hand knew what it meant to work your way up from the bottom, to have drive and passion. You were one in the same in that way, but you kept him in check, able to dull some of the red that always tinted the edges of his plans.

The moment he bursted in the door you knew it had been a bad day even before he started ranting.

“I can’t BELIEVE these people, it’s like they think the world runs on expensive fabrics and tiny foods.” Coryo threw his suit jacket into the corner of the room, the white coat crumpling like a piece of paper. Running a hand through his hair he finally took the time to look at you properly.

His eyes raked your form, taking in the way your freshly washed locks framed your face. Your eyes were focused on him, that same worried look ever present on your face, it brought a warm flush to his cheeks. Even a year into marriage it never ceased to surprise him that everyday someone could care. That even after seeing him, the real him with skeletons in the closet, you still loved him— still forgave him. That simple fact was enough to make the stress of the day melt from his body. Shoulders dropping just the tiniest bit, jaw coming unclenched for the first time since he’d left at six am that morning.

He watched as you shuffled out of bed, in that same night dress that was just sheer enough to hint at what was underneath but not enough to satisfy his desires. Your pebbled nipples poking out just enough to make him want to do nothing more than to take one into his mouth and taste the sweet comfort of home. The thought of the taste of your skin already bringing a burning desire to his mind.

But you could simply fuck anytime, right now was for something more pure.

You floated across the room and wrapped your hands around his waist, burying your face in his chest, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. I should fire everyone and replace them with you instead, you’re more intelligent that all of them combined,” he placed a greedy kiss to your lips before pulling away, “and much sexier too” his hot breath on your lips making you flush.

You allowed him to change his clothes wordlessly. Basking in the presence of your lover, Coryo doing the same. Your relationship was built on comfortable silence, if something needed to be said it would, but for now all either one of you needed was to feel the other.

Like a well rehearsed play you both flowed back to the bed, allowing the cool sheets and soft mattress to absorb your bodies until you met in the middle. Coryo wrapped every open limb around you until you were one. With your ear on his chest you listened to his heart beat. The rhythmic thumping grounding you, this was reality, white sheets and curly blonde hair.

“I’m scared” that statement sent chills through your body. Never had Coryo admitted to something so-- human in all the time you had known him.

“Do we have something to be scared for?”

“The thought of this being temporary fleets my mind often these days, that one day I will have nothing to provide to you anymore” The statement broke your heart. Deep down you knew he cared, even if he tried to convince himself he didn’t. Yet her he was the very thought of letting you down was terrifying.

“I don’t need anything but you,” You felt the held breath ruffle the strands of hair at the top of your head. “You are enough Coriolanus Snow, I promised myself to you because even a poor beggar I would want nothing more in this life than you”

“I have never wanted anything more than you” The confession surprised you in a sense. You knew you were an important part of the puzzle, but Panem always seemed to come first.

You allowed yourself to reflect on that as you watched the sun drop below the skyline of the Capitol, a warm orangey-pink engulfing the room. Allowing yourself to relax in the strong embrace of your husband, and give in to the sleep pulling at your eyes.

#coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x you #cornelius snow x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #abosas x you #abosas x reader #a ballad of songbirds and snakes x reader #a ballad of songbirds and snakes

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nathaslosthershit · 2 months

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The Truth Behind It All

Summary: Charles didn't cheat on his ex with his current gf, but due to not wanting to cause further issues with his ex, he can't really come out and give the true story.

The speculation had started to get out of hand. Suddenly, comment sections became bombarded with the most disgusting and hateful things she had ever heard. But Charles’ comment sections remained fine, as long as he didn’t post her. Sure, his pr team was most likely deleting anything on there that wasn’t positive, but compared to his girlfriend’s page, he still had tons and tons of love.

She understood it, somewhat. She knew she would never support someone who cheated on their partner. But that isn’t what happened with her and Charles. After his unexpected break up with his ex following her own affair, he went out drinking that same night. Charles had always said it was a blessing that ‘his darling found him then’, when he was at his lowest, and had been his saving grace. There was no cheating on his part.

Charles hadn’t noticed the change in behavior coming from his girlfriend. He had been away for the weekend for some work related events. Her texts didn’t particularly seem off, but they were only words, it was easy to fake enthusiasm through messages. He should have checked in sooner given what he had seen on twitter.

The house was dark and quiet when Charles got back. It seemed to be unoccupied until he made it to their shared bedroom and saw his girlfriend under the covers. 16:00 was an unusual time to be asleep, but he soon realized she was awake as sniffles became audible in the once silent room.

“Darling, what is wrong, huh? I thought you would be happier to see me” He teased, trying to get a feel for the situation.

She didn’t respond. She didn’t even sit up.

“Honey? Come on, what is bothering you?” He cooed as he knelt by her side.

“As much as you say it, you aren’t stupid, Charles, you know what's wrong.” He finally got a good look at her tear stained eyes as she pulled the covers off slightly. He knew then should have checked in.

“They are just comments. Rude ones, I know, but simply comments. I have gotten bad ones before. It will all go away, honey, this isn’t the end of the world-”

“It feels that way.” She said as she sat up. “Charlie, do you see the comments I’m getting on instagram? The more comment sections I disable, the farther back people go. Someone was just commenting on my middle school graduation post that they hoped I was bullied. What kind of insane person does that?”

He hadn’t realized they had gotten that bad. Seeing how swollen her face was from crying, he felt tears threatening to fall himself.

“I just want to be enough, Charles, but I don’t feel like I ever will be as long as you let the media dictate how you feel. I want you to love me because you love me, not because the media does. As much as it is unfair and as much as it sucks, you are a public figure. You aren’t just an athlete, you are a brand. You need to be in the spotlight and be loved by fans to sustain yourself long after you retire. You can’t have both me and your fanbase, they have made sure of that.”

“Honey, we can just go private. Make it seem like we broke up until they stop caring.”

“But we shouldn’t have to! I know you don't want to bash your ex but having people think that we were the ones cheating when it was her is unfair. Plus, you're not the one getting harassed, they act like this is only my fault.”

“It is unfair sweetheart, I understand that very much, but they will forget and move on.”

“They won’t Charles, so long as you are in the spotlight and attractive, people will love you and care about who you are dating. I-” She cut herself off from what she was about to say. She really didn’t want to say it.

“What, love?”

“I cannot continue like this. If we are going to be together, we can’t keep letting the public think what they currently do. Either address it or I am done.” With that she walked out of the room, rushing down the stairs to grab her keys and put on her shoes as she left a stunned and silent Charles still in the bedroom.

—

Hours passed with no hint of when his girlfriend would be back. He left message after message until he decided to let her be for the time being. He got on a call with his PR team to assess what could be done but didn’t like the answer he got.

A tough conversation was waiting to be had and both of them knew it.

Finally, around midnight, he heard the front door open. Immediately standing from the couch, he walked over to hug her.

“I was so worried. I didn’t know when you'd be back.” He whispered into her hair as he rubbed her back.

“I know, Charles, I needed to clear my head, and I think you did too.” This was it. Both felt their stomachs sink as they sat down. Both were silent as they waited for the other person to speak up.

“I had a meeting with PR. Honey, they said there is nothing I could say that wouldn’t have large consequences. To talk about everything that happened after all this time would be petty, and defending you is wrong.” “It’s wrong? Defending me for something I didn’t do is wrong? God, Charles, do you even hear yourself? How are you letting your team call the shots and ruin our relationship like this?”

“I am not ruining our relationship, you are the one who is giving me an impossible choice. And that isn’t what I meant. It would just look bad-”

“Defending me from getting death threats wouldn’t look bad. You are being so stupid right now.”

“Don’t talk to me like that. Weren’t you the one earlier saying I wasn’t stupid? But now I am because I won’t let you call the shots on making decisions that would have large impacts on my career?”

“If defending your girlfriend is going to tank your career then what kind of fucking fans do you have, Charles? Clearly not ones you would want to keep around.” “Enough! I won’t talk about this anymore.”

“Then we are done. I won’t settle for continued harassment over something I didn’t do, and if you won’t defend me then I don’t know what I am even doing here.” Charles remained silent at that. What could he even say in this situation? In his mind, his hands were tied.

Oh how unfair it all was.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x you #charles leclerc

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arieslost · 3 months

Text

one night only | cl16

charles leclerc x fem!reader

summary: when the miami grand prix comes around, charles books a hotel room.

word count: 3,263

warnings: 18+ content MDNI!! mentions of cheating (don’t do it), cursing, charles is a player but you’re down bad (who isn’t), this is my first time writing smut so enjoy!

special thank you to @venusacrossthestars for being my beta reader, ily bestie <3

masterlist — join my tag list here!

unknown number: Our hotel. 10:30. Your keycard is at the front desk.

It was like clockwork. Every weekend of the Miami Grand Prix, you always ended up with a keycard in your hand. When Monday came, you woke up, showered, and took the tiny bottle of shampoo that you used with you when you left. It went in a shoebox under your bed to remind yourself not only of your mistakes, but of each and every night you spent forgetting them in the arms of the biggest mistake himself— Charles Leclerc.

It’s happened twice now. You hardly remembered the first, barring a joke you made about whether or not you needed to sign a NDA. Charles had silenced you by backing you up against the locked door and pressing heated kisses to your jaw, lips moving down your neck as you pulled him closer. He was excited that weekend— he’d taken P2, and it was thanks to the celebration he partook in at the club that he met you.

You were a bartender for the VIP section at a club near the track. It was easy work, if you didn’t mind all the flirting and catcalling. You were never one to be affected by it; you knew they were all either drunk beyond recognition, or would be by the end of the night. You loved your job. You also loved your boyfriend, whose shift you’d picked up that night.

But then Charles Leclerc, Scuderia Ferrari’s golden boy, sat down at the bar. Your bar.

After that weekend, you didn’t have a boyfriend. How could you, when every time he kissed you, you saw a certain Monegasque behind your closed eyelids? When every time he touched you, you imagined different hands caressing your skin?

You’ve always prided yourself in being a strong, independent woman, but when it came to the Formula One driver, all your inhibitions went out the window, and your pride with them. So you tried not to get attached to him. You were perfectly happy to be the annual hookup, to let yourself go for one night out of the 365 that came in a year. You didn’t need to get to know him, you didn’t need to learn more about the sport; you didn’t even need to kiss him on the mouth.

You didn’t.

So why were the words “our hotel” making your heart race every time you read over the text from his unsaved number?

You thought about responding, but in the end, you settled for liking the message, just like you did the last time he texted you. It had been his idea to keep this up in the first place, anyway.

2021.

“Where’re you going?” He was half awake, sleep fading quickly from his eyes when he took in the sight of you with your hand on the doorknob.

“I was leaving… unless you changed your mind about that NDA?” You quipped.

“That’s as funny as it was last night,” he groaned, stretching out and pushing the blankets off his body.

Ahh, last night. He’d put his boxers back on before falling asleep, but they didn’t really leave much to the imagination. Especially because it was all so fresh in your mind. The way he looked– hair mussed after all the times your hands had run through it, golden skin against the crisp, white hotel sheets, the red scratch marks on his back… Yeah, it was a miracle that you didn’t launch yourself back into the bed right then and there. You still dreamt about it sometimes, the way he looked so ethereal in the early morning sunlight streaming through the curtains.

“Are you going to continue to mock my sense of humor, or can I be on my way?” Your throat was so dry.

“I’ll be back in the area next year.” He didn’t offer any explanation— it was Charles Leclerc. He didn’t have to.

You fished out the piece of paper you’d scrawled your number on earlier before promptly stuffing it into your pocket in a moment of retrospection. Hell bent on leaving the room before you acted on the impulse to get on top of him again, you tossed it onto the nightstand.

“Make sure I can tell it’s you.” It was the last thing you said to him before you finally made it out the door.

Now, you read over his text again as you climbed the steps to the VIP section of the club. Our hotel. You were going to need some liquid courage if you were going to fuck him tonight.

A solid perk of your job was free access to the VIP section when you weren’t working, and in times like these you were most definitely going to take advantage of it. A couple shots were all you needed to take the edge off, and you downed them in quick succession before checking the time- 10:10. You were cutting it close, but the closer it got to 10:30, the antsier you became. You decided to linger for five more minutes, and called for another round.

“You okay?” One of your coworkers asked from behind the bar as he filled the shot glasses in front of you. “You look a little nervous.”

You laughed, waving him off. “I’m fine. Now leave me alone so I can enjoy my drinks, will you?”

He flipped you off good naturedly before turning to his other customers.

With another shot down, you took out your phone, the text still front and center on the display. You swiped it away, instead opening up the search engine. Against your better judgment, you typed the sentence you’d been restraining yourself from searching up all day long: miami gp 2024 results.

The first thing you saw was his name. CHARLES LECLERC WINS 2024 MIAMI GRAND PRIX.

You fought the urge to smile, quickly grabbing your fourth and final shot and tipping it back. Ironically, the burn of the whiskey sobered you up a little as you gazed at the picture showcasing his beaming face and dimpled cheeks, both hands lifting the first place trophy high in the air. You made the mistake of bringing up the race (or lack thereof) the last time you saw him, and since then you’d made an effort to try and avoid anything to do with F1.

2022.

“Disqualified? I mean, it’s shit!” You exclaimed heatedly as you wiped down the bar. Your phone was burning a hole in your pocket, making your stomach squirm with excitement every time you remembered the text.

Same hotel. 10:30. There’s a keycard at the front desk. No NDA. You had giggled at that last bit, and if you’d completely given up on your morals then you might have fallen in love with him for remembering the joke that he didn’t even crack a smile at last year. You’d practiced some French, and you paid attention to news about the Miami Grand Prix, but you hadn’t given up on your morals. You weren’t going to fall for and pursue the guy you only saw once a year.

The French was simply because you wanted to brush up on your rusty high school skills. As for the news… well, you were in the area. Everyone was paying attention to the news.

“I didn’t realize you cared so much.” Your coworker replied, an eyebrow cocked at your reaction to what the reporter was saying on the TV.

“I don’t care, I just think it’s stupid.” You backpedaled, trying to sound more casual than you did a second ago, especially when Charles appeared on the screen looking nothing short of dead inside and your heart began to beat a little faster. “Everyone should be able to race.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the FIA for you.” One of your patrons grumbled, thumbing through his wallet and producing two five dollar bills. “Thanks, guys.”

“You keep that,” you shoved both bills into your coworker’s hand after the customer was out of earshot. “I have to go.”

You changed at the speed of light in the VIP bathroom before going to the hotel. You showed the clerk your ID, collected the keycard, entered the room, and promptly made a fool of yourself.

“I heard about the disqualification on the news…” You trailed off when you were met with a glare, not necessarily towards you but rather the topic of conversation.

“I don’t want to talk about that right now.” Was all he said before he practically manhandled you onto the bed, pulling his shirt over his head as you bounced back on the mattress. “When I’m with you, I don’t want to talk about work. I don’t want to talk at all.”

“Okay,” you agreed quietly, any other words dying in your throat as he hurriedly pushed your dress up past your stomach and immediately started kissing every inch of newly exposed skin.

When he reached the apex of your thighs, he looked up at you. “The only thing I want to hear you say for the rest of the night is my name, understand?”

He’d grabbed your hands and put them in his hair that night, right as he had you seeing stars courtesy of his head between your legs. You dreamt about that, too. A lot. You always woke up sweating, in desperate need of a certain type of relief that only he could give you.

You were thinking about last year again as you walked through the revolving doors into the hotel lobby, the shots of whiskey making your veins thrum with excitement.

The way he had whined when you pulled his hair.

The way he smirked at you as he crawled back up your body, so full of himself and so damn sexy.

You found yourself wondering what he’d be like tonight after winning the race as you gave your name to the clerk at the front desk, hoping she wouldn’t comment on how flushed you looked. She asked to see your ID, then handed the keycard over. Room 24. You were there in moments. He always booked a room on the third floor. As you walked down the hallway, you were vaguely aware of the fact that, against your will, this had become something of a routine.

You and Charles Leclerc. One night only.

For three years in a row.

You hadn’t even bothered to dress up this time— your clothes wouldn’t be staying on very long, anyway.

You were glad to see that you’d gotten there first when you opened the door, pocketing the keycard as the door swung shut behind you. There was no point in looking around the room; you knew the layout like the back of your hand. Eventually, you drew your attention to the view out of the large window, moving the curtain out of your way to admire the view of the Miami night. You tried imagining what everyone else was doing at that exact moment to distract yourself, but your mind kept going back to Charles.

Charles, Charles, Charles. Just thinking about him made your heart knock against your chest, and you were in the middle of mentally berating yourself for it when you heard the door opening and Charles himself walked in, the trophy you saw him holding in the picture still in his hand.

“Hey,” you greeted him, nerves adding a slight shake to your voice.

He gave you a soft smile in return, setting the trophy down on the nightstand and adjusting it slightly.

You remembered how he reacted the last time you mentioned his job, but this had to be different. Besides, it felt wrong not to acknowledge it when the trophy was literally sitting right there.

“Congrats— or, actually, félicitations on the win,” you said, dropping the curtain back and stepping closer to get a better look at the trophy. “Much better result than last year.”

“You’re not kidding.” He scoffed, taking his hat off and tossing it on the other side of the nightstand. “You know French?”

“A little.”

He had changed out of his race suit, but when you stood next to him you could still smell the champagne.

“Think you’ll be in the running for the championship?” You asked casually, even though you knew that he was in a great position already and was most definitely in the running for the championship.

You tried to avoid Formula One. You just weren’t all that successful.

He gave you a look, like he was trying to get in your head and figure out when you’d started paying attention. “I hope so,” he finally answered. “This could be the year.”

“I hope so too.” A pause. “Would it be overstepping if I said I was proud of you?”

This brought a real smile to his face, his dimples seeming even more prominent than they did in the photo. “Not at all. It’s actually really nice… hearing that from you.”

The usual initial awkwardness had finally faded away, and you knew what was going to happen next. You wished you could sit down with him and listen to him retell every moment of his triumphant race, but you couldn’t.

That’s what girlfriends do. Not hookups. You were perfectly fine with being a hookup, and you would continue to repeat it to yourself until you believed it again.

To mask your disappointment, you reached out and gently took his hand. His palm was warm under your touch as you pulled him close. “How about we celebrate that first place, hmm?”

The two of you moved like a well oiled machine, even after not seeing each other in a year.

He always tried to kiss you. You always turned your head at the last second. If he was disappointed, he never showed it, instead focusing on getting you underneath him. Not that he had to try very hard.

Charles had a way of making you forget. With every brush of his fingers against your bare skin, every press of his lips at your collarbone, you slipped away from reality more and more, until the only things that mattered were you, him, and the hotel room. Nothing existed outside of the four walls you were within, and how could you care right now? You couldn’t, not when he had already gotten you out of your shirt and bra and his hand was gently taking hold of your breast. He was taking his time, studying your every move in response to his own. His thumb brushed across your nipple just enough for your breath to catch in your throat, a soft gasp escaping your parted lips.

“Yeah, baby, I know,” he murmured, ego clearly inflated by the fact that the slightest touch from him still had you reacting this way, and you wished more than anything that you could kiss that stupid smirk off his face.

“I thought we were supposed to be celebrating,” you managed to say as his thumb continued its back and forth motion.

“This is me celebrating.” He paused, giving you a pointed look. “Is this not good enough for you?”

You bit your tongue, chest rising and falling as you squirmed underneath him due to the sudden lack of stimulation. “I-I just—”

“What? Utilise tes mots, chérie. Je sais que tu peux.” Use your words, dear. I know you can.

You took a breath, then looked directly into his stunning green eyes as you reached up, grabbed his wrist, and pushed his hand down. “Je te veux ici, Charles.” I want you here.

He cursed lowly, eyes fluttering shut for a moment when he heard you speaking French back to him. “You said you only knew a little.”

“Just the important stuff,” you teased, eyes traveling down from his bare chest to his fingers as he tugged your underwear off.

The rest of his clothes followed, and he didn’t waste any time rolling on a condom and pushing himself into you, a punched breath leaving his lips once he was fully seated inside you. “Thought about this all day,” he said, large hands running over your naked body. “Couldn’t wait to see you.”

“You can’t say that kind of shit to me, Charles.” You sighed, your eyes closed as you adjusted to him.

“Why not?”

“Because it messes with my head,” you admitted.

“I mean it, though.”

“Did you mean to say ‘our hotel’ too?” You opened your eyes now, the burning question finally about to be answered.

“It is, don’t you think?” He asked, and then he started to move; slowly, tantalizingly.

“Shit. I can’t think when I’m with you.”

You couldn’t talk after that, not when he was making you feel so good. You could only wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him closer and marking his neck wherever your lips landed. You shouldn’t have, and he should have stopped you, but neither of you cared. Every lewd noise coming from his mouth made you feel hotter and hotter, and just when you thought you were going to burst into a ball of flames, he started talking.

“I want you to look at yourself,” he instructed breathlessly, maneuvering you so he was now laying on his side behind you… and you were staring right into your own eyes in the shiny surface of his first place trophy. “See how beautiful you look when I fuck you.”

You gasped, eyes rolling back, bringing your arm back so your hand could find a home in his hair again. You watched through the trophy as he dipped his head into the crook of your neck, breath hot against your skin and arm tightening around you as he picked up his pace.

“Charles, I—”

“Mhmm,” he moaned in your ear, his hand slipping back between your legs when he felt you tightening around him. “Go on, baby, let go for me.”

You didn’t need to learn more about Formula One, but you had. You didn’t need to know more about Charles Leclerc, but you wanted to. You didn’t need to kiss him on the mouth. But your mind was hazy, and you wanted to know how his lips felt on yours. You wanted it so bad that, when the both of you had come back down to earth, you didn’t fight it when he leaned in and captured your lips with his. He kissed you deeply, rolling you onto your back against the pillows. You felt his hand against your cheek, and as you opened your mouth for him you tangled your fingers with his.

You weren’t stupid. You knew that things wouldn’t change.

And they don’t.

You still wake up before him in the morning. You still shower. You still put your clothes back on. You still trade parting words with each other, and you don’t hear from him for another year. You still take the shampoo bottle and put it in your shoebox when you get home, ignoring the ache between your legs the whole while.

Nothing changes.

Except now, you’ve spent a year knowing what it’s like to kiss him. You know how easily your lips mold together, how you would happily spend your one night with him doing nothing but kissing him.

And when the text lights up your phone, a thrill shoots through you.

CL16: Our hotel. 10:00. You know where to find your keycard. 😉

Maybe, somehow, you can find a way to keep your morals and be in love with Charles Leclerc at the same time.

note: well, here it is— after two+ years, i have made my long awaited return to posting fics on tumblr. i’ve done it in style by posting 18+ content for the first time; i hope it wasn’t too cringy to read. i don’t know what came over me, but here we are. thank you so much for reading.

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

also, i’ve been out of high school for almost three years now, so i greatly apologize if the french is bad or incorrect.

beautiful dividers by @saradika !!

tags (i’m sorry if i couldn’t tag you!): @naturallyspontaneous @whatever7justchillin @outerudeth @devlovesbooks @wegaveitago @seagulltacotoaster @acarguello1 @fangirlika @simplyscorpio @nuccibeboo2 @heeygemmilala @toppersjeep @anedpev @vee2004dee @chriss-club @lewisroscoelove @scaramou @aneverythingwriter @bingewatche @candystarfish @bestpart0fmylife @topgunmav1df1 @taytaythirteen @jackiekennedys @tpwk-loml @mangodreamsicle @rafaaoli @bunbun9396 @olicitymckono @weareallsnottygirls @jenm26 @alicecourtier @oliveswiftly @janeholt3 @d3kstar @l-inas @smiithys @spookylilmeep @barcelono @ililali-blog @srhh15 @sainz-leclerc @lilycampbells-blog @cassandra-nerezza-black @nova-rush

#full fic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc smut #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 smut

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shuichi-sama · 27 days

Text

to heal with you.

park jongseong x reader, park sunghoon x reader (one sided)

description: jay offers to save you from the clutches of your one sided love with your best friend, park sunghoon.

warnings: angst, unrequited love, feeling of unworthiness, cheating, idk what else.

note: lower case intended! not really proof read, bad case of bad writing, sorry! i’m a sucker for angst especially unrequited love!

_________________________________________________

“i could never tell him.” you declare to jay, who’s rubbing circles on your back to soothe your shattering heart.

you were madly in love with one of your best friend, park sunghoon, but as luck would have it those feelings weren’t reciprocated. how’d you know? it was plainly obvious. sunghoon seats a couple of tables away in the cafeteria with the girl who captivates his heart in ways you wish you could but would never.

she was everything you could never amount to be. beautiful, smart, confident, outgoing, popular, and the worse thing? the apple of sunghoon’s eyes. he truly could never see a flaw within her, not like she had one to begin with.

you on the other hand? not so much. considering yourself average in the looks department, you manage to pass classes but nothing worthy of an academic award or appraisals from those around you. you were timid, your friend only knowing of your playful personality. popularity? you knew it through sunghoon and your mutual friends, though you were never the talk of bathroom gossip.

and you certainly weren’t the apple to sunghoon’s eyes, at least not anymore like when you were kids.

you didn’t lack in the importance of his life, at least you wishfully hoped. however you currently weren’t the focus of it either, no matter how heart broken and live-less you seem to become these past few weeks, seeping worry each of your mutual friends, much like park jongseong who’s search every way to console your raging emotions but falling short no matter how hard he tried.

you know he wishes to say something to put a bandaid over your heart, but words could only do so much. you were still grateful though, his attempt never going unnoticed by you.

you were truly thankful for jay, he was your pillar these days holding you up through this stage in life, caught between the cross road of wanting to ruin your friendship with sunghoon or living with the pain of knowing he would never be yours. you knew as much as the next person, the willingness to swallow the words “i love you” like they were glass of water, only for it to turn in to needles at your throat.

“do you want me to try to bring him here? i know how much it’s bothering you seeing him there and not here.” jay tries ways to stop your heart from breaking everyday, even if it meant putting a wedge on his other friends romantic pursuit for another girl that wasn’t, y/n.

“no, there’s no use anyways, it would be pointless.” you explain, playing with the tips of your fingers in a circular motion. “you’d just be wasting your energy, only to come back empty handed.”

“i could make up and excuse, maybe tell him you’re not feeling good? we could even take you to the nurse office and pretend your sick.” jay was sweet enough to paint a scenario and plant a white lie just for your cause. you shook your head. you didn’t want to get Jay caught up in a lie, no matter how white it may be. you simply knew the outcome, and have to live with it.

“he won’t trust me.”

“yes, he will,he’s your best friend he would always come to you.” jay exclaims trying to persuade you.

“yea?” you scoff recalling memories of just a week ago, when you began to understand that sunghoon’s priorities had change enough to forget about you on an a very important day. “what kind of best friend, forgets their friendship anniversary celebration after months of planning.”

“no call, no text, no nothing.” your fingers thread through your hair in exhaustion from the painful memories of that night. you cried so much that night enough to swim in a river of your tears. “he wanted to finally teach me how to ice skate that day so I waited at the ice rink. At first i thought he was late but then 10 minutes turned into 30 and 30 turned into an hour.”

“I didn’t want to think he bailed on me, because i didn’t believe sunghoon would be capable of forgetting such an important day for the both of us, you know? so you know what i did?”

jay could feel his own rage of emotions as you continue to explain. he didn’t really want to hear the rest of it not because he feels for you, his heart hurts for you, if only it could burn for you instead, maybe then he could ease your pain as he tells you to finish your story.

“i kept waiting for two hours. my thumbs were frozen at that point. even after waiting i fooled myself to think he was still late and would show up that evening to eat. i went to the restaurant we made a reservation at. i had been telling sunghoon about it for quite a while now, he must have been grown tired of me because he reserved it despite how pricey it was. but in the end he never showed.”

“i had dinner alone that night, .” you laughed at your ridiculousness. “how stupid is that right?”

jay shook his head. “it’s not stupid at all.”

you continue, story not even remotely close to finished. “we also made plans to go get ice cream, i probably would have fooled myself to go there too if it hadn’t started raining.” and as if luck had it that night, you hadn’t brought an umbrella either. “i couldn’t believe sunghoon had forgotten, i was worried something had happened. not once did he call or text me back so i walk to his house to make sure he was okay.”

you choke back a sob wanting to escape your lips. “and when i got to his place, i saw him through his window, seating at the kitchen counter with, sana.”

finally you broke down, even in an area full of

students you couldn’t hold back anymore. your heart and brain clacking, one asking to let it all out, the other demanding to hold it back in. the throbbing feelings becoming to much, you heart winning the internal war that going on within. “he should’ve seen the way he was looking at her, jay. he looked so happy and my heart breaks knowing I could never be that kind of happiness for him.”

jay turns you around, his arms enclosing you around his. his hands coursing through your hair, pushing you into the crock his neck as you weep into it, snot and hot tears dampened the white of his shirt. jay didn’t care though.

“i ran home that night in the rain, i got sick the following day. the scab on my knee reminds me of the pain i felt that night.”

he had seen the bruising on your leg after you told him about a fall you had the previous night. jay knew too well of your sickness. he had taken care of you, being the one to bring you medicine and hot homemade soup, draped a cool towel on your forehead for your fever. though he hadn’t known the reason behind you being sick, thinking it had been nothing but a common flu.

jay can only pat your head, tears slowing down their aggression but not showing any sign of stopping only dry heaving being the aggravator. “i hate this so much, jay. i can’t no more. i truly wish i never knew love, why waste my time on something i dont deserve? maybe then i would be happy.”

jay becomes angry, but he doesn’t try to show it on his face, glossing it over with a look of sternness yet concern as he pulls you away so you can stare at his face. “hey, hey, hey, don’t ever say that okay!”

your eyes rim red, you hold his gaze. his hands cupping your cheeks making it impossible to look away if you wanted to, the warmness of his eyes don’t let you go. “don’t ever say you don’t deserve to be loved, the only people who don’t deserve any type of love are criminals and bad people, okay?

he wipes his thumbs on your cheek catching trailing tears. “just because someone isn’t in love with you right now doesn’t mean there won’t be somebody is the future, okay?”

“you are a beautiful, amazing, kind, quirky, shy and a great friend, so many lovable qualities and anyone would be lucky to be in love with you.” jay praising you warms the coldest parts of your heart, melting the ice that had built around it.

you sniffled. “but sunghoon won’t ever be sunghoon.”

jay turns to look at sunghoon, his soft stare hardening just at a glance of his friend for lacking a seventh sense. how could he not see what was right in front of him? he turns back to you, eyes soft once again. “sunghoon is too blind to see what’s in front of him, baby.”

“it just hurts, jay, i want this feeling to be gone.” you clench what anyone would assume is your sweater, though the initials, P.S.H, writing on the tag on the back of your neck says otherwise. “i’ve tried to get rid of it, this dark feeling.”

“i know, baby, i know.” jay can only sigh.

“sunoo said to try dating even if i don’t have an interest in them, so i’ve gone on dates, countless of them.”

“even if i don’t have any feelings for them i try hoping that these feelings for sunghoon would go away. but how can i date someone i don’t even know? let alone if i’m not interested in them? it would be different if i at least knew them, you know? at least i would be comfortable around them. i can’t even think of a second date, one the first one isn’t even finish.”

you sigh for the infinite time this week. it’s like an bad re-occurring habit of yours lately, it wasn’t healthy in the slightest. “I’m just exhausted, tired of giving my time of day to guys who don’t even truly try to get to know me, most of them are just guys trying to get into my pants at the end of the day.”

“sorry, i’m drama dumping on you again, jay you must be so tired of me.” your head wants to hang lose, but his hands prevent you from doing so.

jay shakes his head no. “no, baby, i could never grow tired of you, y/n.”

the smile you flash him genuine, but it doesn’t quite your eyes. “thank you jay, for always being there for me.”

“I’ll always help you, y/n. so let me help you again.”

“what do you mean?” You asked confused.

“date me, y/n.” just as hot tears ascend on your face yet again, they are halted by his words.

at first, jay had caught himself of guard with his own words but as he thinks about it in his head, it only seems to makes more sense.

if there was someone else yearning for your happiness, other than you, was jay. you meant a great deal to him as a friend so he though, if not him than who to help you move on?

“what? jay, are you listening to yourself? you know i like sunghoon.” bewilderment written all over your face.

yes, he knows you didn’t have to explain it to him. “i know you do, but it’s like you said, if you only try with someone you knew you would feel more comfortable right? you could move on.”

you shook your head, it being incapable of wrapping itself around jay’s idea. “jay, you don’t even like me that.”

“i know, it doesn’t mean i can’t learn to.”

your body grows frigid and jay can feel it in the palm of his hands cupping your cheek. you’re in utter disbelief at his words. providing that jay is one of your closest friend, now more than ever, if you hadn’t known him you would assuming the boy was joking with you.

his aura being intimidating and so handsome you’d think he’d be some type of playboy. he was the complete opposite of what he seemed. the definition of looks like he could kill is you, is a cinnamon roll. a very sweet one at that. you’d gain more than one cavity.

aside from sweet, handsome, he was kind, respect, a balance between outgoing and introverted when need be. attentive to every needs, including that of his friends and family, as of lately yours. In the dictionary, under the word perfect and boyfriend, you would be sure to find his name writing in bold letter, PARK JONGSEONG. You were sure of it, but would you be willing to risk this safety net of friendship you have with Jay just for your own benefit, to be able to move on from this unrequited love?

you’re quiet state allows jay to perceive your face longer, dried tears on your face, your mascara smudge at the corner of your eyes. he wipes his fingers over it, wiping it clean to the best of his ability. he doesn’t relent on his words to convince you.

“if it’s any concelation, im doing this for myself too.” your head tilts, in question, unsure of what benefit he could get out of courting you. entertainment? No way, never. jay wasn’t like that, he would never. from what jay has told you, when he dates, he dates to commit.

“i haven’t told you this, you’ve probably heard know i haven’t dated anyone in about a year.” jay explains.

jay was quite popular among school, female and male crowd alike. rumors of jay being single ropes plenty of beautiful people to his feet, but he never paid any mind to any of them even after a year when the rumors of him being single began to spread. “i had a girlfriend, we were together for about three years, we were young but i truly thought she was the one. i even started to consider marriage just fresh out of high school, stupid I know right?” you shake your head no.

jay chuckles recalling his last memories of his last relationship and the scar they left within him. “well I thought I was because after giving her three years of my time, i found her sleeping with my own brother.”

your heart breaks all over again, this time not for sunghoon but for the man in front of you, park jongseong. “they were seeing each other behind my back for a whole year.”

to say you were discombobulated at the revelation would be an understatement. no words could describe just how muddled you felt at the idea of someone cheating on jay. he who was loyal, a kind soul, emotionally available, a good listener, honest, respectful every trait that you could think of that makes a boyfriend the greenest of green flags. if anyone deserved happiness and love it was him.

“what? jay-“ you try to speak, to comfort, console him like he has done with you plenty of time’s but he stops you. he has had plenty of time to mourn relationship that only brought him pain, but he still lives with the scars. maybe it was time for a change, to find someone he could share not only his troubles but also his ideas of love.

“let me finish please.” he pleads, so you let him. “i was angry, i hated them, for doing this to me, for lying, breaking my heart.”

“i hated myself for that matter. i let myself love so hard that i became blind to see the signs that were right in front of me. i hated myself for wasting those three years on her.” as he incriminates himself you want to stop him becoming angry at his words, yet respecting his wishes. your eyes never lose contact with his, not even for a second. “but no matter how much i think back to it i would still do it all over again because i learned that i’m worthy of love and that i deserve the purest form of it. i simply hadn’t found the perfect person who could possibly understand me, til i found you.”

“i have a lot of love to give, just like you, baby, so give me yours and i’ll give you mine. and then maybe we can learn to love each other and heal from these scars we have together.”

these revelations show you a jay you had never known. he was always the life of the party a smile gracing his intricate details, carrying himself with confidence and living life gracefully.

your heart hurts him, like his hurts for you.

“jay-“ your throat is hoarse and you lick your lips dry lips wet to talk. “i just don’t want you to feel like i’m pressuring you into this. i know I’m hurting now but it’s not enough for me to say yes to force you into a relationship that may come from nothing, you’d waste your time trying to learn to love me, what if our feelings never change?”

“then at least we can say we tried.” he responds. “you’re not pressuring me. and you’re never a waste of time to me, y/n, you never are.” he gives you a tight smile on his.

jay knew the possibility of nothing coming out of them dating, he also understood of the risk of something actually coming out of it- what if only one of them truly falls in love, what if they both fell in love with each other other but weren’t each others happy ending in the long run? so many possibilities were endless. who were they not to try though? weren’t you both already suffering from heart break? what’s one more?

“i know something could possibly not come out of it, or something possibly could, many possibilities. i’m willing to try, y/n, the question is are you?”

your line of thought is intent of not risking a friendship. a relationship formed of similar characteristics of failed love, one of disloyalty, another of unrequited love, could this one also end in failure?

sharing heart break caused by important people in their lives, jay and you, found solace and support from each other. truly who were you to say no? why not try to mend two heart that ache to be loved similarly. both understanding of the agony of those who were too blind to see what was right in front of them, two people full of love and ready to serve it on a silver platter only to be taken for granted.

you weren’t sure of the future, could jay be your happy ending? could you be his? you’d never know unless you tried.

“okay.” you agreed, not yielding to your brain or your heart, instead you choose to listen to the man in front of you who’s trusting you with his own.

“yea?” he asks for confirmation, a feeling of liberation already settling in. jay knew he deserved love, now he just had to show you deserved it too.

“yes, let’s try together.” you reassure him. not believing you were worthy of love, you still don’t but you would gladly learn from him and in return you would give him the love he seeks.

“yes, let’s try together.”

jay smiles. it’s soft on his features, reassuring that from now on, his purpose was to make you happy and you him.

he leads your turned body forward, showering your body in his comfort without much effort. his arms drape just tight enough to support your body closely, like you could let go any moment, take back your word and he would let you. silence lingers around you only the chattering of students around the campus and the full spring breeze kissing the dampness of your face.

you break the quietude. the silence overbearing your already intrusive thoughts. Coming back in full circle rubbing your back much like before, this time not of sadness but of hope to possibly seeing a happy you in the near future. jay listens to your concerns keenly, precisely as the beginning of it all, the day you officially opened to anyone aside from your girl-friends about sunghoon and the undying love you feel for him.

“i’m scared, jay. what if I waver as soon as I see him?” you stay attached together.

he knew it would be tough, your situations being different from his. jay’s ex-girlfriend at a different side of town while sunghoon roams the same halls as you, the both of you sharing the same mutual friends, you house filled with memories with him.

your love for sunghoon is fresh. it runs deeps into your heart, like a fresh wound that if submerged under water it stings. even after it resurface, the feelings lingers and prolongs til it turns into a scab during it’s absence. only for it to peel off at his appearance, the stinging feeling being relived all over again til it finally heals after a long time.

jay back tracks on his words, before he could spill them. eyes hardening at the movement he follows. his heart dropping, he doesn’t let it deter him. his fingers stroke soft trails down your soft strands.

“don’t worry, i got you.” he says, putting you at ease with his words.

he is relieved your back is turned. the very man that haunts every fiber of your body by his mere presence is getting up from the very table he had perched himself for the past hour, chatting away with the crowd among it, attentively engaging with the girl, you have become envious off, itching to be in her spot next to sunghoon.

sunghoon makes his way to your direction. jay avoids making any eye contact by pulling away from you taking your face in his hands again. your cheeks and eyes puffed out from your crying, red tainting the rounded corners of your face.

sunghoon greets passers-by who recognize him drawing nearer to your table causing jay heart to quicken at an ungodly rate, they meet eyes and sunghoon waves. heart torn between his actions and his words.

he’s told you he’s got you, he won’t be letting you down. “do you trust me?”

trust, faith, reliance words you could associate with jay. you’d trust him with your life and that was a given. never challenging you to question his choices and action, today wouldn’t be any different from the rest.

it only takes a nod for jay to decide.

his dark eyes cast downward starting at your eyes, to the tip your nose and ending at your lips. they are pouty, the balm you glossed over previously nowhere in sight. jay can’t help but imagine his lips on yours. the thought of intimacy by placing a kiss on them thrills him, not having the pleasure to feel the lips of another in so long after his last breakup. just the idea feels foreign to him, nonetheless nervousness courses the blue of his veins.

he knew there would be no turning back after this. lines would be crossed, and risks will be taken. in spite of his racing thoughts and his palpating heart, he finds himself leaning forward, eyes fluttering close, to kiss you.

the breaths you had taken before stolen by his sudden action. his warm and soft lips tender on your own, lips unmoving. you didn’t pull away, and hyper aware of the closeness of his face, you practically count the short lashes of his eyes.

withdrawing himself away from you, his eyes open to look into yours that were staring right back at him. left speechless, you were unaware of the figure standing not even 3 steps away.

it wasn’t long til you look away bashfully, looking anywhere but jay. only then noticing sunghoon, who had witness the kiss that had just been exchange by the both of you. your heart that was previously unsettling, thumping against your ears and chest because of jay, now replaced by a sinking feeling to your stomach at the presence of sunghoon.

his silence was louder than any words given that moment.

sunghoon eyes dances between the both you. a perplexing feeling wrapping around his throat and choking him of his words.

to many questions plague the tip of his tongue.

when did you become so close with jay? were you both dating now? why didn’t he know? why didn’t you ever tell him? have you been blowing him off because of jay this whole time? if he grew angry at the thought, he didn’t show it. he looks directly at you noticing your quiet demeanor.

“hey, hoon.” the sound of jay’s voice reaching his ears pulls him from he’s endless thought’s, noticing just how quiet he was since he planted himself in front of the table you and jay occupied together.

“hey, uh” sunghoon didn’t even know what to say, so he reframes from saying anything only asking the obvious questions he should be asking. “so, the two of you?”

“yea.” jay glances at you, eyes still glued on sunghoon figure. he turns back to sunghoon, hiding his true feelings behind a plastic shy smile. “we are together.”

“why didn’t you tell me?” he looks at you for an answer, but you remain voiceless. jay understands the difficulty you are in. it’s as if you were in the spotlight of a stage and someone just threw cold water on you.

jay take’s it upon himself to answer sunghoon instead. “i guess can say today is day one.”

“oh, congratulations.” is the only thing sunghoon can think to say, his head still trapped in limbo trying to make sense of everything. he pushes it to the back of his head, he’s two best friend dating, he should be happy for them, he was.

sunghoon beams a smile at you both. “really guys, i’m happy for you, congrats.”

those words were the last words to your heart into a million pieces. but you were thankful for them. allowing you to close the chapter that was park sunghoon, and opening a brand new one with park jongseong.

jay who’s hand grasps your own now, gives it a small squeeze, telling you he was by your. giving you the courage you desperately needed.

you lean into jay, grabbing his hand to pull his arm flushed against your front one hand still entwined with his, you fake it with a smile. “thank you, hoonie, i really needed to hear you say that.”

424 notes · View notes

shapard · 2 months

Text

Feather of Fate🕊️

Lucifer x Seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

naughty naughty Lucifer

Lucifer thinking about you riding his dick and face

A little bit NSFW mentioned

Snake in Paradise

Chapter 2 < Chapter 3 > Chapter 4

Your mind screamed at you to leave but you couldn’t move. Your whole body was shivering but didn’t even move an inch.

Lucifer could feel how you started to feel uncomfortable.

Ache

He wasn’t going to point it out, but his heart started to ache every second more and harder.

For you everything made sense. The puzzles starts to fit in.

How you feel comfortable around him, how his divine smell that made you weak and crumble to your knees.

How his touch excites you and makes you feel like a fool in love.

He probably doesn’t know that you are his Soulmate. But when this is true, then what is the deal with Lilith?

Where is she anyways? Isn’t she supposed to be on his side, ruling hell together. Why is he all Alone?

The question is easy to answer but you can’t Imagine that she’d just leave him. How can she not want him? Did She cheat on him, and they got a divorce? Or did he do something unforgivable.

Either way you wouldn't let him go.

Lucifer couldn’t take it anymore. This ache.

You were deep in thoughts with a sad expression on your face. which only fueled this ache more.

Ache

his heart ached as he looked at you. He can’t look away, but he wants to. Not wanting to see you in this kind of state.

With a heavy deep breath, he started talking. “Is everything alright?”

Snapping out of your thoughts your gaze shifted from his mark towards his face. Worried laced his pearl white face.

“Yeah, yeah… of course. Everything’s alright.”

That was the worst lie ever.

Lucifer smiled a bit, “You know, it’s okay to feel what you feel. It’s one hundred percent valid. God Y/n, you fell from heaven a couple days ago. Just sit down, relax, and let me take care for you.” He wants that you to have a good time in hell after you recover.

Cute,

That’s what’s running through your mind. Forgetting your worries about the soulmate mark.

Maybe this isn’t all bad.

But one Question was buzzing in your head like a mosquito mid summer.

Where is Lilith and why isn’t she here?

And why does it bother you so much?

…

Sera was in a heating discussing.

The tension was so thick that you couldn’t even cut it with a knife.

Michael's angry gaze didn’t help at all.

“Michael I can explain- I.“ Sera stopped mid-sentence not knowing how and where to start.

Azrael raised his hand, not wanting to hear Sera’s useless apologize.

“You know Sera, you’re in deep shit.” Azrael shifted his paper in his hand to look on this case.

“You didn’t Informed us about the extermination, nor asked for permission. Never thought you wanted to play God, Sera.” Gabriel looked at Sera with zero Emotions.

But his Voice let everyone fall for him. His smooth voice is alluring.

And He knows it.

And he uses it.

Letting everyone fell in this trap of comfort, to trust him with everything.

And then he will use it against you.

Just like he did with his brother.

“It was something what I had to do. They were uprising I-.” Michael let out a loud hmpf, showing Sera that he’s not pleased at all. His head rested on his fist, looking down at Sera.

“Uprising? You’ve got to be kidding me. Sera look, I don’t have time for your bullshit. You want to end up like Lucifer?” the weight of this topic only filled the tension even more than before.

“Or like your own daughter?” Azrael added for her demise. He raised a brow, now finally taking a look at the Seraphim Infront of him.

She felt Embarrassed and bare as if she’s naked.

Laid for them ready on a golden plate for them to be devour.

But the moment they involved you in it, she has to say something.

“Leave my daughter out of this!”

“Wasn’t it your idea to decent her from heaven?” Michael showed the document with your case that led you to fall from heaven into hell, “You’re quite a terrible mother you know.” Michael threw the document infront of Sera and Gabriel glared at Michael for his childish behavior.

“I Apologize for my brothers behavior, but he does speak the truth. Your daughter didn’t deserve That punishment you gave her.” Gabriel looked on your Information Paper.

“Seems that you couldn’t tolerate that she was against you.” Azrael sighed, disappointed in Sera. “You got a pretty daughter, you know.”

Sweat dripped down Sera’s forehead, everything but you. Even after all she's done to you, she still loves you dearly.

“You know father said that she should come back to heaven, and you’ll be thrown into hell Instead. Prove us that you’re still worth residing in heaven.” Gabriel announced, stopping his brother with their blabbering about some fallen Seraphim.

...

In the end of the meeting, they discussed that they give Sera one last chance and get you back somehow.

But the "how" was the unsolved question. And no one has the answer for it.

But for the worst part. Michael seemed very interested in you.

…Time Skip…

Lucifer paced nervous Infront of your room.

He finally told Charlie that he had found a fallen angel in the front yard of his Home.

Since then, you got your own room to live in.

Charlie pressured her father that she wants to see you and show you around.

But knowing how difficult it could be for you, he was nervous. Will you hate him after this? No, right?

He laughed nervously and grabbed his hair lightly.

“Hey Y/n. I know you just fell from heaven, but do you want to meet my daughter!... No that’s not good. Fuck, ehm…” gipping his hair tighter he paced quicker from side to side on the carpet on the floor.

“Luci?” The door creaked open revealing you in your cute, oversized nighty he bought you not long ago.

His heart melted at his new given nickname.

You two kind of grew close these last days.

“What are you doing here this early?” Lucifer's shoulder was now all tense again. Right, he’s not here to eat breakfast with you.

“Hello dearest. I want you to meet the other guest and employees around this place! Get you socialized” He laughed nervously, the look on your face already gave him the answer.

You slammed the door into his face. That was unexpected.

“Okay rude?” Lucifer knew you wouldn’t like the idea of going out but slamming the door into his face. It irked him.

'Fuck' he thought.

Standing Infront of your door kind of dumb folded.

Inside your room you were running around and looking for a decent good-looking outfit.

Squealing like a teenager.

In these last days you were living in hell you began to love this place.

Even though you rarely go out. You still feel uncomfortable in the new area, but it was better than heaven.

Way better.

Very Brutal sometimes but you could live free and in peace.

You can watch Tv and eat Ice cream, not doing anything like annoying paperwork all day.

You rarely watch Tv though because Lucifer hates Tv. Saying it makes people dumb, maybe it’s true but where’s the fun in that.

Finally finding a nice dress, heels and to top it all: over knees! To make it all cute. Smiling at your outfit you nod, and you were ready to go.

You re-opened the door where Lucifer was standing in all his mighty, looking perplexed at your now opened door.

Lucifer was about to leave but in the exact moment you opened the door revealing you in a very very pretty dress.

Lucifer already can’t get enough.

The dress hugged your body perfectly showing your juicy curves that makes him weak and drool on spot.

His cheeks warmed up and he felt his blood going from his head towards his pants.

Oh god have mercy with him.

Coughing in his clawed hand he tried to hide his upcoming arousal.

‘Now is not the perfect timing Lucifer.’

He regained his posture and smiled at you, “You look Amazing, eh- I meant pretty haha, the dress fits you.” He awkwardly laughed hoping that you didn’t catch up with whatever that was.

Fucking Simp.

“Thank you, this dress is indeed very pretty.” You looked at your dress and spun a bit letting the dress move swiftly and smooth around your body.

God, you should stop.

He already has to take a cold shower.

He turned rather fast away from you.

It hurt somehow, wasn’t it attractive enough to him?

The one thing you didn’t know is that he was aroused and all what he wanted is to just claim you right here in your room.

He gestures you to follow him and you let out a frustrated huff.

Following him through the red, white halls down to the main opening.

There was a tall spider like creature standing there and beside him was a tall girl with red circle on her cheeks.

Charlie!

You remember her.

And the aftermath that happened after that meeting.

The memories and flashbacks were harsh, water started well in your eyes.

The scar on your back started to sting, you touched it and massaged it with hope that it would help with the shadow pain.

Looking around for lucifer for support you couldn’t find him.

Lucifer was gone for a couple of seconds to deal with that little problem you caused.

He felt kind of disgusted by himself.

You were so Innocent and sweet and here he was taking a quick cold shower to calm his aroused bulge that grew in his pants.

In the last days he was whipped with you in no time.

Such kind of euphoric he hasn’t felt before, not even from his ex-wife Lilith.

He wanted to drown in this new warm feeling.

Every time he spent time with you, he felt like the happiest man Alife.

He was sure that in his demonic form his tail would wag in happiness like a dog.

He switched off the shower the cold.

When this happens again he won’t survive this.

You were just too pretty, Innocent, and sexy.

He can’t wait to see you milk and cream on his dick.

Hearing you cry out of pleasure while he sucks your pretty pussy dry.

You gripping his horns out of overstimulation and riding his face and dick just to get that high again.

He whines at that thought.

Throwing cold water into his face to get those Images out of his head, “you’re such a pervert.”

Ache

He knew something was wrong. This ache always came when you weren’t okay.

Teleporting himself beside you, he saw you in a panic like state. Alarming him.

“Y/n, did something happen?”

His sudden presence scared you. You let out a small scream alarming everyone in the main hall.

You apologized and glared at Lucifer for scaring you so badly. “We don’t have to-“ do this Today

A loud gasp interrupted Lucifer. Charlie’s eyes were literally sparkling when she saw you. “OMG, You’re the Angel that my father found?!”

She ran to you and gave you a crushing hug.

Lucifer and Vaggie looked at the scene that was unfolding.

Angel dust was eating ice cream and ignored Charlie’s shouting, he was used to it.

Lucifer admit that he felt a sting on his mark, weird. Vaggie’s eye was twitching out of annoyance she didn’t like how close they were.

Letting you go Charlie’s smile was so bright you swear you could get blind because of it.

“I’m so excited to show you around!” She was still holding you tight when she was pulling you around.

“Charlie.” Her father’s serious voice made her stop. She looked at him in surprise of his sudden shift of mood. “Be gentle with her, she’s still new here.” Charlie’s grip loosened and she nods at her father.

She continued to show you around and introduced everyone to you. She was so similar like her father, and it was so sweet.

You could get used to this; this was way better than your life in heaven.

…

Back in the main hall. You sat down on the couch watching Alastor and Lucifer get into a fight.

Angel dust and Husk were talking, and Nifty tried to kill the bugs in the area.

Charlie and Vaggie started to prepare an exercise, so you didn’t saw them near by.

But all the comforting living atmosphere was short lived.

A loud Bang followed with a broken wall and dust all over the place.

You coughed as you breathed in the dust that filled the whole room. Lucifer’s wings appeared on his back and he blew the dust away from the two of you.

Since when was he Infront of you?

“This fucking wall is cursed I tell y’all.” Vaggie nods at Angel Dust sudden outburst. Something was definitely wrong with that wall.

Meanwhile Lucifer growled softly at the danger. He already knows who it was. Someone he hoped he wouldn’t see anymore in his lifetime.

“What are you doing here, Michael?” He growled. His demonic form scratching in the back of his head, wanting to protect his mate from this Man.

“Can’t an older brother visit his younger Brother?”

A/n: I want to thank you all who Liked, repost and commented on this story❤️ Thank you so so sooooo muuchhh<3333

Thank you to the new follows❤️ This is all so crazy😭✋🏽

Like OMFG LOVE YOU POOKIES❤️❤️ Can't wait to give you more of this story and even beyond<3

⭐💫

@ayanazoldyck

#y/n #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #shapard #lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel #soulmate #hazbinhotel #lucifer morningstar #fem reader

839 notes · View notes

sanakiras · 5 months

Text

TREAT YOU BETTER

PAIRING — lee chan x fem!reader

WORD COUNT — 3.7k

SYNOPSIS — your boyfriend of five months has been treating you like hell, and one of your closest friends, lee chan, refuses to let it go on any longer, taking matters into his own hands.

TAGS — college au, best friends to lovers, cheating, explicit sexual content, mutual pining, mentions of reader struggling with low self-esteem, cheesy stuff, yes i did come up with this after accidentally listening to treat you better by shawn mendes, this didn’t turn out as good i hoped it would but oh well!

NOTE — first fic here. he looks so good in the wait m/v so i wanted to write something for him :D my beloved

the slam of the door behind you rings through your ears. you try to wipe your cheeks dry, hoping you don’t look like the tearful mess you are.

your voice feels raw from yelling for the past hour or so. it’s been going like this for the past two months at least twice a week, and you’re exhausted because of it.

as the rain pours, you notice the familiar car driving towards you, bright lights feeling heavy on your eyes. you open the door without hesitation to let yourself sink into the passenger’s seat, taking a few deep breaths, all without looking at the driver.

but the quiet sobs escaping you are enough to give it away.

chan has his one arm leaning on top of the steering wheel, the other gently touching your shoulder to make you look at him, but you refuse.

“i’m fine,” you stutter out, sniffing from the cold, “really.”

of course you’re not fine. both of you are more than aware of the toxicity of the situation. you getting into arguments with your boyfriend several times a week, resulting in you calling chan and staying over at his apartment for a night, only to hear you make it up to the guy the next day when you weren’t even in the wrong to begin with.

“we have a different definition of that, then.”

“it was just an argument. we’ll work it out in a couple hours.”

“it’s not normal.” he says, trying to get it through your thick skull without raising his voice. “it’s not normal, baby.”

you sniff, trying to somehow get rid of the pain beating against your forehead. “he can be so mean, and then… then he’s so sweet again.”

chan wants to rip his hair out of his head. five fucking months of this have passed at this point, and he doesn’t know how much more of it he can take. he’s not sure how to handle the situation the right way, either.

he’s been in love with you for years. years. since sophomore year in high school. it was never his intention to fall in love with you, nor did he think he would, but he did, and god did he fall hard. embarrassingly hard.

nevertheless, he was always too afraid to make a move. too afraid that you’d reject him and he’d be out of your life forever like he was never there in the first place.

but he’s grown up now. third year of university, twenty-two years old, longer hair, a leather jacket and a solid bunch of experiences. some great, some he’d rather forget.

and so five months ago, he’d finally mustered the courage. he was finally going to own up to his feelings and tell you the truth.

only for you to excitedly come up to him, telling him you’re seeing this guy. and it made his heart sink in his chest, but he pushed his feelings to the side for your happiness.

or so he tried.

your boyfriend treats you like shit. he was sweet in the beginning — they always are.

then the cracks in the façade started to show.

it’s not that you don’t see it. you do — but it’s difficult to leave when someone knows just how to keep you where they want you. every time you tell yourself you’re gonna break up with him, he sweet-talks you and says things can be fixed, and that going through a rough patch is normal.

but chan knows better.

he just needs you to know better as well.

it breaks his heart to see his favorite person let herself get hurt like this. he becomes a little more torn with every sob leaving your body, every tear spilling from your eyes.

he gently puts the buds of his fingertips on your chin and jaw, slowly turning your face to him so he can look you in the eye.

the tears are still quietly running down your cheeks, your face numb, now devoid of any emotion, ashamed to have him see you in this state.

“you’re killing yourself like this.” he whispers, voice laced with concern. “he’ll never make you happy.”

you sniff from your breakdown. “maybe it’s me. maybe i just need to stop giving him such a hard time—”

“don’t even think about finishing that sentence.”

“please, chan, just… just go and get me somewhere else. all i need is some breathing space — please.” you beg him.

he wants to scream, wants to tell you to break up with him for good, wants to walk into that damn house and do it himself — but he can’t.

instead, he obliges, driving you to his place.

his cozy one-person apartment feels like the best place in the world to you — the one place where you can get away from everything else.

you watch chan as he locks the door behind him, then leaning against it for a moment as he watches you sit on the armrest of the soft chair. “you okay? want some tea?”

the corners of your lips curl up at the suggestion. he knows you awfully well. “that’d be great.”

his lashes flutter before he nods, kicking his shoes off by the door.

once he’s busy in the kitchen, you bite your lip as you recall the way he softly talked to you in the car, eyes trailing past the curves of his arms and the sharpness of his jawline.

he’s dated more than you have. not much in high school, but definitely during the past three years he’s spent at college. though it doesn’t surprise you. he has such warmth to him, with the beautifully infectious sound of his laughter, that big smile and some of the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen.

it wasn’t until recently you began to see him in a different light. whenever you saw him with a new girl, arm around her waist or over her shoulders, you secretly imagined yourself next to him more than once. you can’t believe you didn’t take notice of how handsome he was before.

but you’re too much of a coward to tread over that line of friendship, too much of a coward to see if maybe, just maybe, your feelings are requited.

“wanna stay here for a while?” he asks, hoping you’ll at least spend the night here before you go back to your boyfriend, as you’ve done countless times before.

“yeah. don’t feel like going back yet.” you smile, trying to somewhat make light of the situation.

“then don’t.”

you sigh at his response. “it’s not that easy.”

“why not?”

“because i don’t wanna throw something away the second things get hard.”

“there’s a difference between hard and unbearable. your case is the latter.”

feeling backed into a corner, even though he hardly means to do so, you turn the topic on him. “you’ve had some rough experiences with past girlfriends too and you stuck around.”

god. if only you knew he ended up leaving them because he never enjoyed being with them as much as he enjoyed being with you. “you’d be surprised.” he mutters under his breath, pouring two cups of tea, making yours exactly as he knows you like.

when you stay quiet, he tries to think of a way to get it through your head that you need to break up with your resident ass of a boyfriend.

“can i ask you something?”

“sure.”

“what’s it going to take for you to leave him?”

the question makes you look up before using a tone that almost sounds like you’re scolding him. “chan.”

“i’m serious. he’s treating you like shit. you call me crying every week.”

“it’s just—”

“no, it’s not ‘just a tough time’. you know it isn’t.” he interrupts, jaw clenched tight but voice controlled. he will not yell at you like that piece of trash does. “he’s a controlling, manipulative asshole. it’s not gonna get better. if anything, he’ll just treat you worse in the future.”

“yeah, well, not all of us have people lined up.”

the words have left your mouth before you can comprehend it, leaving you to lower your head in regret. not that it’s any less true. to you, anyway.

“what, and i do?”

“don’t you?”

he’s not sure what baffles him more — you thinking that he’s got girls lined up to date him or you thinking that you don’t have anyone else out there that would be willing to date you.

“what’s this really about?” he sits down on the empty coffee table, facing you directly. “what does my dating life have to do with yours?”

“nothing — it doesn’t. i never said it did.”

“then why the comment about me having people lined up? which i don’t, by the way.”

the answer sits at the tip of your tongue, but you can’t bring yourself to say it without looking away from him. “maybe not. but at least you won’t end up alone. i can’t say the same for myself.”

and there it is. the sole reason you’re still with the guy. your crippling fear of ending up alone, your heavy insecurity that makes you believe no one could possibly want you.

the last thing he wants is for you to get hurt — but he’d rather have you suffer through your first heartbreak than end up with someone who walks all over you like a doormat.

“please don’t take this the wrong way, sweetheart, but if you think that low of yourself, you’re a little stupid.”

the comment makes you snort. “well, it’s certainly fitting.”

he wipes some of your half-dried tears away, his one hand remaining to cup your cheek, an alarmingly intimate gesture.

“aside from the fact that there’s nothing wrong or shameful about ending up alone... i need you to know that you’re worth it. you’re gorgeous and intelligent and—” he halts for a moment, in a way confessing his love for you, not caring how cheesy it sounds, “—you deserve everything you want. ‘cause you’re one in a million.”

fuck, has he always looked at you that lovingly?

his words catch you off-guard for a moment before you press your lips together. “as much as i think it’s sweet of you to say those things, you’re only saying them ‘cause you’re my friend.” you interrupt him, having made up your mind.

after which chan shakes his head, gently twirling a strand of your hair between his fingers. “i’m saying it because it’s true. any guy would be lucky to have you in his life.”

“i don’t think ‘lucky’ is the term my boyfriend would use.”

“yeah, ‘cause he’s a fucking dick.” he immediately comments, adding the next part with a softer tone. “if you were with me, i sure as shit wouldn’t be acting like that.”

that last sentence catches your attention, and chan realizes what he just said, suddenly very aware he’s treading on thin ice now.

but it had to come out one way or another.

though you seem to be going along with his words, not showing any signs of being uncomfortable with it. “and who’s to say you wouldn’t break my heart?”

he sees the intrigue on your face and decides to lean in closer. “if i broke your heart, i’d be breaking mine as well.”

“i’m not convinced.” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear, and chan feels his heartbeat quicken.

every rational thought going through his mind is thrown out of the window the moment he catches you staring at his lips. it’s enough for him to put his hand on your lower cheek and smash his lips against yours.

he kisses you like he always imagined he would. perhaps a little too enthusiastically, but he’s waited too long for this moment to care.

and you’re kissing him back.

you both get hot from adrenaline and arousal. his hands roam down your hips, but when you start pulling on the collar of his jacket, he finally has it in him to break the kiss.

“are you sure you want this? i don’t want you to feel pressured—”

“i’ve wanted this for so long, chan. take it off, please.”

maybe he should pinch himself to make sure he’s not dreaming. you’re underneath him, lips swollen, gazing at him like he’s your whole world and more.

he leans down again to pick you up, ensuring you’ve got your legs wrapped around his waist so he can carry you to his bedroom.

once he lays you down on the soft bed, you watch him take off his jacket and throw his shirt over his head, leaving him with his chest bare, elastic waistband of his underwear visible.

he’s a dancer in his spare time, but you know he’s been hitting the gym recently as well, and it’s paying off, noticing his bigger biceps and toned abs.

then he chuckles from the way you’re observing him, and that smile — that beautifully big smile is what you fell in love with.

one of many things, really.

you remove your basic long-sleeved shirt, exposing your skin before him, enjoying the way he’s looking at the black bra you’re wearing underneath.

you’re seated at the edge of the bed, at eye-level with his chest, which you kiss softly.

he follows your actions like a hawk, unable to keep his eyes off you. he proceeds to move your hair behind your shoulder, his right hand finding your jaw when he kisses you again, lips trailing down to your neck and collarbone.

his touches are slow and sensual. at the end of the day, it’s your first time together, and you both notice the pressure and tension that comes with it.

you’re both aching to touch each other more already, but it feels so much better like this.

he gently pushes you to lay on your back, hovering over you to kiss down your chest and stomach, smoothly pulling down your skirt before his fingers hook onto the fabric of your lace underwear.

“what’d you want me to do, pretty girl?” he asks while getting rid of your panties, looking you in the eye as he does it.

the nickname makes you shiver. “you can do anything you wanna do.”

“wanna eat you out. bet i’m better at it than that motherfucker.”

“not hard to beat when he never does it at all.” you mumble to yourself, but he hears it.

“are you kidding? has he ever even made you cum?”

you just give him a deadpan stare that has a hint of embarrassment to it, which is enough for him to know the answer.

just being aware of how bad that fucker treats you makes him want to prove to you that he can make you feel so, so much better. and that’s exactly what he’s gonna do.

he wastes no time, spreading your legs so his tongue can get to work. you shiver at the feeling of his mouth on you, biting your lower lip to not squeal already from sensitivity.

“no. none of that. i wanna be able to hear every sound you make.” he says after taking your hand away from your mouth. “you can pull on my hair if you like.”

“do you like that?”

“yeah, i enjoy a bit of pain.”

that makes you giggle a bit. “you masochist.”

to which he responds with a gentle pinch to your skin. “keep it in mind for next time, baby.”

fuck — you definitely will.

your hands run through his soft black hair. you’ve locked your legs behind his head, hips bucking up a little every time he hits a spot that feels good, his warm breath and wetness of his mouth on your pussy turning you on like crazy.

chan is pretty sure he’s descending into heaven when he hears you moan his name for the first time. he doesn’t know how many times he’s fucked his fist imagining that sound.

so he adds a finger to the warm and wet mess between your legs, sliding in easily, biting his own lip as he watches your reaction to it. you’ve got your head thrown back, one hand fisting the sheets, the other still holding his locks.

then he moves to a second, and not much later he’s got three of his fingers pumping in and out of you, arching them a little to find the right spot, rubbing and sucking on your clit.

“does that feel good?” he asks, just a bit out of breath, which is nothing compared to the writhing mess that’s you. he keeps messing with the pace, edging you a little every time, making you go crazy.

“please, channie, please let me cum—”

“i will if you answer me, baby.”

you whine, nodding at him desperately. “feels s’good, so fucking good.”

“want me to go faster?”

“please. god—need you inside me so bad.”

even he can resist so much. you’re so good for him, so he increases the pace of his fingers, relishing in the way you start squirming underneath him, trying to push him away and pull him closer all the same.

then you pull on his hair almost violently, making him moan against your pussy as you hit your first climax in a long time.

and he doesn’t stop yet — only once he sees you’ve regained focus does he pull his fingers out of you, sucking on them to savor the taste right before kissing you again, your trembling body aching for him.

he only breaks the kiss to reach for the drawer in his nightstand, grabbing a condom out of it, getting off of you to push off the last pieces of clothing still on him. the realization of the fact that your best friend is about to fuck you after god knows how long finally begins to dawn on you, and it makes your heart beat that much harder.

once he’s slipped the condom on, you move your hands to his neck and shoulders, biting your lip when you feel him push your legs behind his waist.

you gasp when he bottoms out of you for the first time. his head is buried in the crook of your neck as he finds his rhythm, sucking at your sensitive skin, not giving a damn whether he leaves marks on someone that’s technically not even his.

yet.

“do you remember that time we went to senior prom together?” he asks breathily, not slowing down even a little bit. “you were wearing that pretty blue dress. god, i wanted to take you home that night more than anything.”

you remember that. it was just before you two graduated high school together — he looked so dashing in his suit. you’d even imagined kissing him underneath the basketball bleachers like some cliche rom-com.

“so why didn’t you?”

“was too much of a pussy to do it.”

you bring yourself to chuckle inbetween your moans. “that’s a shame. i would’ve let you.”

just knowing that his feelings are reciprocated turns him on. he lifts his head up a little, kissing the front of your neck, your jaw, your cheeks — everything, only halting for a moment when he fucks you just a little faster, watching the way your eyes roll back from pleasure.

your hands run over his strong back as he pushes in and out of you at a steady pace, your lip nearly bleeding from how hard you’re biting it.

he hisses and relishes in the burning feeling of your nails digging into his shoulder blades.

“chan—god, harder, please—”

“i know, baby, i know, i got you.” he breathes out, changing up the position by hooking your legs over his shoulders.

it hits the exact right spot when he fucks you again, harder and deeper this time, your hands desperately clinging onto his skin, teeth sinking into your lower lip until they're nearly drawing blood.

beads of sweat roll down his muscular back. he feels you’re getting closer to hitting that release, so he moves one hand down to rub your clit again, aching to see you fall apart underneath him.

“fuck, ’s too much, channie—” you whine, throwing your head back in the pillow for a moment.

but he shakes his head, continuing, knowing you’re close. “you can do it, pretty girl. cum for me again. i wanna feel it.”

and he discovers that begging you works wonders, because it’s enough for you to come undone, clamping on his dick, making it feel so tight that he spills his own release into the condom mere seconds after.

with a layer of sweat on your foreheads, he feels how sensitive you are when he pulls out. he throws the condom in the trashcan, turning his face back to yours and kisses your lips more softly this time.

“how do you feel?”

“a little worn out.” you sigh, proceeding to show a smile. “but better.”

“good. how do you feel about taking a bath?”

“sounds nice.”

chan can’t help himself and leans in to kiss you again. he’s already getting awfully used to this, but one issue remains. “i wanna be with you. i meant everything i said tonight.”

the sentiment warms your heart. he’s always had that effect on you. “i know. i wanna be with you, too.”

he nods, happy with your words. “you go on ahead to the bathroom. i’ll clean things up here.”

“okay.” you tell him, pressing another kiss to his cheek before leaving the bedroom, feeling utterly lovesick.

he shares your feelings — it’s like he’s reliving that exciting feeling of seeing you the first few days after he realized he was in love with you.

there’s something that pulls him out of it, though. a certain vibrating sound. what is that? he thinks to himself.

and after looking around the room, he discovers it’s a phone receiving a call. your phone, to be exact, sitting in the back pocket of the jeans you discarded earlier.

the screen of your cellphone lights up, and he picks up the device, about to let you know someone’s calling — but his voice gets caught in his throat when he notices it’s the asshole who made you cry in the first place.

scoffing to himself, he taps the red button and declines the call.

thank you for reading. x

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

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yunholuvrr · 9 months

Text

closed doors pt.1

summary: poor yunho just can't resist himself, not when you sound like that.

pairing: yeosang x fem!reader, yunho x fem!reader

word count: 2k

warnings: this is just pure smut, yunho is a perv, voyeurism, cheating, unprotected sex, switch!yunho, idk what else to say i blacked out and wrote this in one sitting

part 2

Neither of you heard him walk in. As far as Yeosang was concerned, Yunho would be at work for 3 more hours, and for those 3 hours you were all his. He had some pent up tension that he'd rather take out on you when no one else could hear you scream his name.

Yunho couldn't hear you two either, at least not at first. He set his bags down as usual and made his way to the kitchen for a drink. Only in the silence of scanning the half empty fridge did he start to hear you. Your whining and moaning and unmistakable "Sangie please!" echoing through the apartment. Fuck.

He tries to pick up a soda and tune it out. He could go straight to his room and put on his headset and sink into a round of Valorant. He could forget all about how you were getting fucked senseless just a room over. Right?

"You can take it, right? You're doing so good for me baby," Yeosang grunts, loud enough for Yunho to hear as he shuffles to his room. You can only sigh some string of explicatives and Yunho wonders what he could've possibly been doing to you now. Did he switch positions? Is he using toys on you? Is he just so big that you go stupid? Is he bigger than Yunho? Could you take Yunho, too? Fuck.

He doesn't know how it happens, if you asked him he'd swear up and down that he'd never do such a thing, but within seconds he has his ear pressed to Yeosang's door. The sound of skin hitting skin is much clearer now, and his pace is brutal. Yunho palms the growing bulge in his pants, closing his eyes to try and imagine you more clearly. He probably has you folded in half, ankles on his shoulders and hands gripping the sheets for dear life as he ruins you.

"Sangie please .... I'm so close please," you mumble over and over, orgasm so close you can practically touch it. Yunho's eyes roll back behind his lids, one hand making its way under his pants. He tries to match his strokes to Yeosang's, but the way he's pounding into is nearly inhuman, only turning Yunho on more.

"Do you want to come, love?" A faint click and light buzz gets tossed into the mix. So he does have toys. You cry out even louder and Yunho can't help the small moan that leaves his lips. He instantly clasps his free hand over his mouth, shocked at himself. He barely moans when he's hooking up with someone, but you... you just sound so good getting fucked by his roommate. You sound like you were made to be filled up.

Yunho almost, almost, reaches his own orgasm, lost in his thoughts of you whining under him, pinned down by his hands as he fucks into you endlessly. But the persistent slapping stops, and when he refocuses he hears shuffling right behind the door.

"Let me get you a damp towel, stay there," Yeosang hums before sliding out to the hallway. A lone coke bottle is laying next to his door frame, you must've left it out there before he pulled you inside. He pads into the bathroom and starts running warm water, and that's when Yunho finally lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He had never moved so fast, hand scratching against his zipper as it flew from below his waistband, body silently and expertly slinking into his own room before freezing in place. His muscles relax at the sound of running water and he quietly sinks into his bed.

His dick is still painfully hard, and the adrenaline of almost being caught is only making him hornier. Shouldn't he feel ashamed? But the shame turns him on, too. No matter how much he tries to talk himself out of it, he can't help it. He runs his slender fingers along his member, desperately trying to build up to the pace his ears got accustomed to earlier. Your voice echoes through his head.

He doesn't know how long you've been standing there. Hell, he doesn't even know how long he's been touching himself, slowly coming closer and closer to the edge at the thought of you. You noticed Yunho's bags as you hugged your boyfriend goodbye. He had just gone to get some food, but you welcomed the short break to compose yourself. But when did Yunho get home? Did he know you were there? Might as well say hi, you thought.

Nothing prepared you for the sight in front of you now. He made the mistake of leaving his door a crack open, just enough for you to see him splayed out on his bed. Head tilted back into his pillows, right hand making quick work of his dick, which had to be the biggest you've seen in your life. His face is tinted a cute shade of pink, heart shaped lips parted in pleasure. He genuinely looks gorgeous so close to coming. Your body moved before your mind did.

"Yunho?" Lightly pushing the door open wider, you finally got his attention. He froze, his doe eyes staring at you for a second before shutting in embarrassment.

"Sorry, I was, um," he starts, but you cut him off.

"When did you get home?" He opens his eyes again, staring at you in confusion now. "Early enough to hear us, I suppose?"

You swear his fingers twitch around his dick, "I really didn't mean to intrude on you two..."

"Ah, so that's why you're jerking off by yourself instead?" You take a step closer, fully in his room now. You've been in here a few times, usually to play a game or two with both of them. The air was undeniably different than then though, dripping with unspoken need.

Yunho's beyond confused, but he makes no effort to move as he watches you slowly step closer. You would've left if you didn't want him, right? You wouldn't be so shamelessly staring at his dick if you didn't want him. Right?

"Were you thinking about me this whole time?" You gingerly sit on the edge of his mattress. Everything about this was so wrong, especially when Yeosang could come back at any second. But your brain was clouded by the sight of Yunho touching himself, eager to do the same.

"What are you doing?" His voice wavers, eyes following you. God, he looked so precious like this, scared and exposed but turned on all at the same time.

"You," he shudders at your instant response and you lean over him. There's a moment of hesitation, an acknowledgement from you both of how wrong this is. But neither of you could control yourselves.

He crosses the line first, reaching up and pulling you on top of him into a kiss. It wasn't romantic or thoughtful in the slightest, just spit and tongue and lust moving together. His other hand clinged to your hip, urging you to straddle him. You obliged, biting his lip before leaning back. You couldn't help but roll your hips on top of him, and his grip on you tightened.

"Fuck y/n," he groans, silently begging you to do it again. His cheeks are flushed bright red with shame now, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. He's so fucking pretty under you, you can't help but tease.

"How long have you wanted me like this?" You grind again. The thin sleep shorts you threw on are the only thing separating his aching dick from your heat, and wetness is already starting to seep through. He doesn't respond, only panting and bucking up into you frantically.

"Why'd you stop," he whines, breathless, as you still completely.

"You didn't answer me. How long have you wanted to fuck me, love?" You burn holes into his sweet doe eyes that look back at you, searching for some friction again. "Was today the first time you thought of it?"

"No," he whispers, even more ashamed.

"Then when?" You rest your weight back fully on top of him, only giving enough relief to make him answer.

"Since you started dating him, fuck," he bucks up again and you let him. You wonder how many time's he's listened to you get fucked senseless in the next room over. He's vocal now, groaning at the feeling of precum and your slick covering his dick. When he makes eye contact with you, his shameful sweet appearance has been replaced by something almost animalistic. You give in, knowing Yeosang could be back at any minute, and you need him just as much.

"You're much bigger than him, you know," you coo, sliding your soaked shorts to the side and lining yourself up, "but you don't know how to pleasure me like he does. Not yet, anyway."

"Please," he sighs at the sight, "you can do whatever you want to me. Please just do it already."

You only mumble a small "needy" as you lower yourself onto him, taking him fully. It's quick and it burns and you feel the slightest sense of guilt at being filled up by someone who isn't your boyfriend, but it's all worth it for the choked moans that escape Yunho's mouth. If you thought he was pretty earlier, he's fucking beautiful now. Eyes closed, brows furrowed in pleasure, a few strands of hair stuck to his forehead in sweat, lips swollen and parted as he takes in shaky breaths. God, he's perfect.

It doesn't take long for you to start moving in tandem, rolling and bouncing like your life depends on it. One of his hands traces up your side to rest on your boob, squeezing harshly every so often. Before you know it, he plants his feet firmly behind you and pulls you down, setting his own pace. He wraps both arms around your torso and pounds into you relentlessly, nothing but the sound of skin slapping filling the room.

"Is this how he fucks you, hm?" He growls into your ear and you choke out a cry because yes, this is exactly how Yeosang was fucking you not even an hour before. And it felt so good, so so good, but this feels so much better. Yunho fills you up in no way you've ever felt before, and his frame is so big you couldn't escape if you tried.

He pulls your hair down, forcing you into the crook of his neck. All you can feel is him moving beneath you, grunting into your ear as he finally gets what he so badly wanted. And then he stills.

"Why'd you stop baby?" You look up, ears ringing from the sudden silence. But when you meet his gaze, he's staring at the door. Your stomach drops.

"It's not what it..." Yunho chokes out, frozen in place.

"I knew you liked him babe," Yeosang calmly walks into the room, cap covering his eyes, takeout bag still in hand, "but you could've just asked me. I would've said yes."

#yunho x reader #yunho smut #yunho scenarios #yeosang x reader #yeosang smut #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez oneshot #yunho oneshot #this is sooo bad #but oh well

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pedgito · 2 years

Note

hi bestie, could i please request either steve or eddie, whoever you're feeling more, smoking weed with their good friend f!reader and learning that she gets a major oral fixation when she's high? love your writing the absolute most!

author's note: look, i couldn't choose so you get both. i also don't write steve often so if this is horrible i'm sorry lol

cw: 18+ (minors dni), established friendship, steve is a little clueless, smoking/getting high, threesomes, oral fixation (sorta, i lost focus pretty quick lol), oral (f & m receiving), mentions of steddie, lots of kissing and teasing each other, if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 5k

Steve wasn’t supposed to be here—not that you cared, but it was a surprise when you walked through the door that night and he was settled on Eddie’s living room couch, shoes left by the door and his sock covered feet plopped up on the cushion that separated him and Eddie. You can’t even imagine the conversation you interrupted when they both stare at you wide-eyes, like Eddie forget to mention to Steve that you were coming over—or that possibly, he forgot about you coming over at all.

It wasn’t a weekly thing, but Eddie would pick a few random nights out of the month to smoke with you and watch a couple movies—you’d knew each other since grade school, when Eddie had much less of a mane than he did now and wasn’t nearly as intimidating to people. Not that he could ever seem that way to you, it was impossible.

“Oh, hey—” Eddie breathes, fingers tapping absently against the arm of the couch where his arm was slung over, knee tucked up under his forearm, his foot planted firmly against the cushion. He was dressed down, a plain black shirt and similarly colored sweatpants. Steve still had on his work uniform, pinned name tag stuck to his vest, “Steve’s here.”

You smile slightly, closing the door shut behind you and tossing the small bag on snacks on his cluttered kitchen counter. “I see that.” You nod, making eye contact with the culprit, Steve looked severely out of place, “Steve.”

“I should go, right?” Steve asks wearily, finger pointing toward the front door. “I feel like I’m interrupting something—“

“No, it’s fine.” You assure him, “I just—“ A small laugh bubbles from your chest, “since when does Steve Harrington smoke weed?”

“Hey—I’ve smoked before,” Steve defends, “I mean, my parents would kill me if they found out about it, but I have a few times.”

You glance over at Eddie, his face riddled with amusement.

“He’s a crowd smoker, isn’t he?”

“A what?”

“You only smoke around groups because everyone else is doing it—but to answer that question,” Eddie looks at you with a narrowed gaze, “he’s not.”

“Oh?”

You’re intrigued, you couldn’t help it—hanging out with Steve had never been on your agenda, but it wasn’t the worst possible scenario.

“We’ve smoked a few times before,” Eddie explains, “like, once or twice.”

“So, you’re cheating on me with Harrington?” You feign the shot to your ego, hand pressed against your chest as you leaned against the counter, still a large distance from the two boys.

They looked comfortable, at ease—despite your steady friendship with Eddie, you didn’t realize just how close him and Steve had become. You’ve only tagged alone to Family Video a few times with Eddie, figuring most of it was just polite small talk, but it all makes a lot more sense now.

“I could never,” Eddie smiles, reaching for the blunt tucked securely behind his ear, flipping it through his fingers, “anyways, are we gonna start a game of twenty one questions or—“

“Wayne’s gonna kill you if he finds out you smoked on his couch.” You remind him.

“Obviously—“ Eddie retorts, “that’s why we’re moving this to the bedroom.”

You grimace in subtle disgust, “God, why do you say it like that?”

“It’s a special place,” Eddie replies dramatically, “where all the magic happens.”

Steve looks up at you, eyes wide but soft, lips down-turned in a slight frown, “Is he always like this?”

“With me?” You ask redundantly, “Yes.”

Not that you minded any of it, Eddie was probably the only person that could get away with talking to you in such a manor that didn’t make you immediately want to vomit.

Eddie always called it the Munson charm, whatever that was.

Steve coughs through the first couple of drags, not allowing the smoke to reach his lungs properly. It was like watching a baby try to stand on it’s own for the first time and Steve was severely out of his element.

“Have you been letting him smoke like this?” You ask Eddie, eyes widened in shock. Eddie shrugs, pressing the joint to his lips. “You’re a terrible friend.”

“I could shotgun him,” Eddie jokes lightheartedly, “but I don’t need him falling in love with me.”

“Like, when you shotgun a beer?” Steve asks curiously, eyes watching your movements carefully, lips closing around the joint and breathing in deep, chest heaving at the action. His look lingers down the valley of your chest before quickly averting back to your eyes, “I’ve done that before.”

You and Eddie both share a similar laugh, glancing over at Steve with amusement, Eddie offers a soft, “Uh—close, but not really.”

“Not close at all.” You shake your head, looking at Eddie with bemusement. “Steve, have you actually been able to get high? I mean, do you ever feel anything?”

“Well, there was that one time—“ Steve doesn’t elaborate, eyes turned up toward the ceiling as he thought, head tilted slightly, “but that wasn’t weed.”

Your mouth hung open slightly, watching Steve chew at his bottom lip, “I’m not even gonna ask,” You respond, glancing over at Eddie, “—wanna demonstrate?”

Eddie smiles widely, “My pleasure, sweetheart.” Eddie rests his hand on the side of your face, joint shoved between his lips as he breathed in the smoke before carefully holding it off to the side, using the leverage he had on your face to squeeze your mouth open, blowing the smoke into your own mouth, laughing airily as his tongue grazed your own.

Steve couldn’t do anything but stare, eyes glazed over in astonishment as he watched the exchange, both of you pulling back with a satiated smile.

“How have we never done that before?” Eddie asks curiously, pulling back with a subtle pout.

“Because, you disgust me.” You smile, lying through your teeth. You couldn’t openly admit how quickly your mind drifted elsewhere when you got this high, how easily a simple touch could drive you crazy.

Eddie was handsy like this, always finding a reason to cuddle up against you or kiss you lazily—and you didn’t try to stop him, but it was very few and far between that you actually allowed it. You were good at burying it away, offering a small peck or closed-mouth kiss in return, but even that was maddening. If it went further, Eddie would call it out immediately—he had no problem teasing you about it.

“Here, do Harrington.” Eddie suggests with a snide smirk, watching as you rolled your eyes annoyance.

You turned to a curious Steve with a small, comforting smile and mirrored Eddie’s actions, pressing the joint to your lips and grabbing at Steve’s face, which he welcomed easily, tilting his neck slightly as your palm curved around the underside of his firm jaw. You could feel the prickle of stubble against your fingertips, something that sent a surge of excitement through your body despite how hard you tried to ignore it.

“Do I just—“ Steve stammers, quickly interrupted by a head shake from you, pressing your lips to his fully, blowing the smoke into his mouth, a small noise escaping his throat in response, tongue grazing against your top lip accidentally as he pulled away, “—fuck, sorry.”

Eddie can see it on your face when you pull away, swallowing hard as you watched Steve lick his chapped lips, blurting out a, “No fuckin’ way.”

“What?” Both you and Steve respond in unison.

“That’s why you don’t want me kissing you?” Eddie asks, a snide smirk pulling at his face.

“Eddie,” You warn, “shut up.”

Steve eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, watching the exchange between you two.

“Let’s do it again.” Eddie urges, knowing exactly the type of reaction he would get if you let him, “One more time.”

“No.” You grumble, ignoring the immediate interest your body has in the matter.

It wasn’t that you didn’t find Eddie attractive, that wasn’t the case at all—but you and Eddie had always been careful about crossing that line. However, Eddie wasn’t the one who wanted that, it was you. He’d pounce on you in a heartbeat if you allowed it, and frankly, your judgement was skewed at the moment.

“Just the one,” He begs, “and I’ll leave it alone.”

It was a dangerous move to make and you blamed your lack of hesitancy on the high that was creeping in, huffing out a long sigh before waving him forward.

“Fine.” You grumble, an eager Eddie already poised to lean forward. Steve doesn’t know where to look, feeling like he might be intruding, but he watches on anyways.

Eddie presses his lips against yours fully, with all the confidence he can muster, tongue dragging along yours slowly, smoke forgotten about as it seeps through the cracks, bellowing out of his nose as he initiates the kiss. You moan brokenly, eyes falling shut as you played into his game, unable to help yourself. It was just too good.

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says lovingly, pulling back for a brief moment, “you’ve been keeping secrets.”

“Am I missing something?” Steve asks, breaking through the tense silence that had developed between you and Eddie, your eyes glaring pensively into his own.

Eddie chuckles deeply, passing the joint to Steve, “I never really noticed until just now—“ He points at you sparingly, “It’s only ever when we smoke that she acts that way and I didn’t think anything of it until I watched you two. I assumed you were just playing it up to mess with me—“

“I like being kissed when I’m high,” You offer bluntly, “or just like—my mouth gets really sensitive, I can’t explain it.”

“I think you just did.” Eddie remarks, offering a sickeningly sweet smile your way.

“Is that bad?” Steve asks, still partially confused. “I don’t see how that’s a problem?”

Eddie makes a noise of triumph, “See, Steve gets it.”

“I get it.” Steve agrees, hands motioning toward himself.

“Great—you’re both geniuses. Now, can we move on?”

Eddie was resilient though—and apparently, so was Steve. They both share a look, similar to what you walked in on earlier. Your eyebrows furrow slightly, glancing between the two of them.

“Hey—no, what was that?” You ask, finger wagging back and forth between the two of them briefly. You’re almost embarrassed to ask, afraid you might be overthinking things. “Wait, are you both, like—“

“No!” Steve responds quickly, clearing his throat to better compose himself, “No, uh—we’ve kissed before but that’s it.”

Something tells you that's a lie.

“Steve was asking if I’ve ever had a threesome.” Eddie interrupts, “I told him no—unfortunately, Steve forced himself into a tricky predicament and now he’s completely in over his head, aren’t you pretty boy?”

“Was I supposed to say no?” Steve asks, like the idea seemed ridiculous. “Who says no to that?”

“Lots of people,” You tell him, “—you don’t need to feel obligated because it’s some, like, rite of fuckin’ passage. That’s all bullshit.”

“I mean, I wanted to.” Steve assures you, “I still want to.”

You press further, “But?”

“I might’ve played it up,” Steve admits, “They’ve both never done it before and I told them I had some experience with it.”

“Steve,” You groan, covering your face with your hands in frustration, “oh my god—you know what, it actually makes total sense.”

“What?” Eddie asks.

“Why you two are friends,” You tell him, holding up your fingers to emphasize your point, “Clueless, full of yourself, and way too horny.”

“So, we’re just drifting over your whole oral fixation thing?” Eddie laughs, “Like that wasn’t just a few minutes ago?”

You clench your jaw, snatching the joint from Steve’s hands angrily and taking a long, deep drag. You weren’t high enough to deal with this, not yet.

“Then what the fuck was that look?” You ask, “Or are we keeping secrets now, Eddie?”

And there’s nothing he hates more than his own words being used against him, a saccharine smile spreading across your face.

“I told Steve I’d be down to help him practice, but that we’d need to find another participant,” Eddie shrugs, “kinda defeats the purpose of a threesome if you can’t find a third.”

“I might’ve brought your name up earlier,” Steve admits shyly, “I was just joking initially—but you walked in right after that.”

It all makes sense then, the weird look and tension that lingered when you stepped foot inside Eddie’s trailer. You could feel it now, but less uncomfortable—and you almost, almost propositioned them yourself. But no, you weren’t nearly as bold as either of them. Plus, with the high kicking in, you couldn’t help yourself.

“I’m not having sex with either of you,” You tell them firmly, and Eddie has the courage to laugh, plucking the joint from your fingers and snuffing it out in the ashtray at his bedside, “not in a million fuckin’ years.”

“Hey, woah—woah,” Eddie chides, “slow your roll, sweetheart.”

Eddie was wounded, but he didn’t show it.

Steve blinks heavily and you can see it on his face, the switch in his demeanor as the weed settles in.

“I just wanted to—I don’t know, test it out?” Steve shrugs, “Some kissing and stuff.”

“Unless you’re afraid to watch us kiss,” Eddie presses, “is that it? Is it too much for you?”

He’s only teasing, but it’s enough to make you retort in annoyance.

“Oh, like when you nearly busted in your pants after I made out with Chrissy Cunningham in front of you at that party last year?” You ask with a snark to your tone, “I can handle myself a lot better than you can, Eddie.”

Steve eyes you wearily, still looking ridiculous in his work uniform, the vest bunching up around his stomach where his shirt had ridden up from him laying out on his side against Eddie’s bed.

“So, is that a yes?” Steve asks hopefully.

“On one condition,” You tell him, “we never speak of this again.”

“Deal.” They both respond in unison, far too eager.

It feels like a fever dream, Steve leaning over you to reach for Eddie, meeting him in the middle of your lap. He’d finally took the vest off after some persuasion from you, striped cotton shirt riding up in his stomach, the few buttons it did have were completely unbuttoned and failing to hide that patch of chest hair hidden underneath. Eddie smiled into the kiss, the dimple in his cheek deepening at the emotion he showed, the familiar sense of giddiness spreading throughout his body.

You’re not sure what to do, where to look, until Eddie’s hand is squeezing at your thigh, over the material of your jeans, a reassuring pressure that reminded him that you were still a part of this—he wanted you to watch, as taboo as it was for you.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Eddie assures you, mouth still very much involved with Steve, both of there eyes shut in pure bliss as their mouths met at an unhurried pace, all tongue and sloppy cadence. “You can stare all you want.”

And you do it, falling back on your palms as Steve’s hands fell in front of himself, just between the space in your legs, your chest rising and falling with every slow breath you took, afraid to move, afraid to interrupt the moment—until Steve separates from Eddie without hesitation and pulls you to him, the heat of his palm spreading out across your cheek as he kissed you gently, less forced that with Eddie.

This was new to him, and you; he didn’t want to come on too strong and you appreciated that, but it wasn’t nearly what you were hoping for. You needed the intensity, all of it—if this was following you all to the grave, it was going to be worth it.

Eddie makes a noise, noting the frustration on your face.

He tuts, running his fingers gingerly through the back of Steve’s hair, “More, Harrington.”

You laugh softly against his lips, “Really, it’s okay—I don’t need you to hold back.”

“You sure?” Steve asks quietly, noses bumping together gently in the process, leaving slow, lingering kisses against your lips, the kind that had you chasing after him for another. “I can get a little, uh—“

“Intense?” You finish for him, “Even better.”

Steve chuckles at that, slipping his hands around your backside until they’re resting just underneath the curve of your ass, adjusting you gently until you’re laid out against the mattress, Eddie following along too as he sprawls out on his side, fingers drifting along the skin of your exposed stomach, shirt pulled up slightly in the process.

Steve follows through on his words, hand pulling at your thigh until it bracketed against his hip, tongue delving into your mouth without hesitation, alighting every nerve-ending possible, an audible moan slipping from your throat and into Steve’s mouth. He bucks his hips involuntarily through his movements, pulling at your hands until they’re locked above your head in his grip, freeing one of his hands to tip your chin up, kissing you until you can’t breathe, pulling away briefly to allow yourself the luxury, catching glimpse of Eddie’s relaxed state, palm rubbing at the front of his sweatpants lazily. Steve notices it too, glancing down with a soft laugh.

“You did say ‘and stuff’,” Eddie defends weakly, his idle hand still resting comfortably against the expanse of your stomach, a constant reminder of his presence—not that you could forget it, “don’t worry, I’ll keep it in my pants.”

“Don’t,” You tell him honestly, and Steve pulls back slightly, startled by your words, “—what? I said no sex, that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy all the other stuff.”

“Are you sure?” Steve asks for reassurance.

You nod, “I mean, I would be doing the same thing to you, but uh—“ You looked up to your joined hands and back down at him, “there seems to be a problem.”

“O-oh,” Steve responds quickly, releases your hands gently. You smile devilishly, hands fisted into the front of Eddie’s shirt to pull him closer, “can I touch you?” Steve asks, neither pleading nor begging, rather just checking in.

“I’d be offended if you didn’t,” You say admittedly, shifting your legs until Steve can shove his knee in the apex, Eddie’s lips becoming curious as they latch into your neck, “—hey, no marks.”

Eddie makes a small noise of disapproval, the flurry of his hair near your face smelling of cheap weed and old spice, “Touch her, Steve.” Eddie instructs, his wandering hands following the line of your body until they reach the button on your jeans, deft fingers working away to pop it open.

Your hands feel empty, jittery with anticipation and the only thing you can think to do is busy them, rubbing your open palm over the front of Eddie’s sweats, a noise of approval leaving his throat as his lips latch onto your neck. He ruts slowly, savoring the friction as his hand finds its way toward Steve’s thigh and over the front of his own jeans—Eddie knows exactly what Steve’s packing, unbeknownst to you and the smug grin on his face is obvious as his hands search and squeeze gently, a rough, throaty chuckle leaving Steve’s mouth as he kisses you once more. It’s deep and needy, teeth dragging against your bottom lip as his hands move in time, slipping over the front of your underwear, his fingers rubbing over the soft patch of wetness.

Steve eyes connect with yours in a look of knowing, mumbling a soft, “Yeah?” at the obvious state of your arousal.

“I told you it was a problem,” You say through a weak laugh that quickly turns into a gasp as Steve moves the fabric to the side and runs a finger through your folds, gauging your response, “I really can’t help it.”

“And thank god for that,” Eddie remarks, shoving Steve out of the way gently to pull your mouth to his, kissing you hungrily, tongue darting out towards yours in a challenge, begging you to chase him, “right, Harrington?”

You roll your eyes in annoyance, looking up at an amused Steve, his fingers working slowly against your cunt, careful touches until your face scrunches up in pleasure, finding just the spot he was looking for, “He talks too much, doesn’t he?” Steve asks with a flippant tone, glancing over at his friend who can’t be bothered to care, mouth dragging against yours as you pull away to speak, a soft moan slipping from your lips.

“Absolutely.” You nod slowly, gripping the front of Eddie’s jeans a little tighter, his cock throbbing underneath your touch.

“I know something that’ll keep my mouth busy,” Eddie hints, earning a skeptical look from you.

But, lines were already being crossed and you couldn’t be bothered to stop him, offering another nod his way.

“Fuck—go ahead,” You breath and Eddie pulls away swiftly, you glance up at Steve, watching as he tried to process what was happening, his own cock straining behind the zipper of his jeans, “come here.”

Steve shifts hesitantly on his knees, your fingers slipping past his waistband, pulling him the rest of the way.

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Steve interrupts, your fingers trailing over the bulge in his jeans, “I don’t really—“

“Steve,” You drag out, “I want to.”

“Are you sure?” Steve asks.

It’s endearing, how often he tried to check in with you—and maybe it’s his own nervousness doing the talking, but it’s comforting knowing that you weren’t the only one feeling as if you were losing your mind.

“It’s either your mouth, your fingers, or your dick—” You list off, shifting slightly as Eddie pulled at your jeans, interjecting with a snide, “I know what I’d chose.” You smile up at Steve, “You heard him, Harrington.”

And to be fair, you had a sense of Steve’s size, but it’s much more intimidating when he yanks at his jeans, underwear following suit until his cock was standing stiff in front of your face—and suddenly you’re jealous that you’ve shit on Steve’s flirting tactics for so long, because the confidence was absolutely justified. Eddie’s fingers squeeze at your thighs, bring you back to reality and to the realization of your bare cunt positioned in front of Eddie’s face—all weird and awkward tension completely dismissed when he smiles up at you, offering a teasing, “Go easy on her, big boy.”

Steve is just as unfiltered as Eddie in his actions and words, but while Eddie is the type to offer you constant praise and sweet remarks, Steve is nothing but a mess in his own mind, murmuring out a soft, repetitive, “Fuck, fuck,” as you mouth at the tip of his cock, tongue running along the slit to taste at the rivulet of precome resting there, the weight of his cock against your tongue driving you wild, a tinge of excitement running through your body as Eddie’s tongue flattens out over your sensitive clit, moaning from the over-stimulation.

You can’t help but stare up at Steve’s parted lips, plump and wet from how often he licked them, eyes solely focused on you as his hesitant hands came up to cup your face, fingers gliding into the hair at the base of your neck, giving him an unobstructed view as your cheeks hollowed out, mouth sinking down on him in languid strokes, leaning heavily on your elbow as you free hand reached up to cover what your mouth couldn’t reach. It only seems to spur Steve further, pleading eyes boring into his own—you’re not sure what you’re asking for, but Steve nods, using the leverage he had to push his cool deeper until your eyes water from the force of it, pulling back with a strained gasp, wiping at your spit covered lips.

“Fuck, I’ve never—“ Steve sighs, “People always say it’s too much,” He’s not sure what he’s trying to say, but he’s staring down with intrigue, the gears turning in his head, “can you take more?”

Eddie’s working you up quickly, tongue flicking over your clit in hurried movements, using his hands to keep your thighs spread to the point of strain, muscles protesting the stretch. Your hand leaves Steve’s cock briefly, burying into the curls at the top of Eddie’s head, hips bucking up into his face selfishly.

Eddie shakes his head slightly, pulling away in punishment.

“Answer him, sweetheart.” He orders, “Don’t let me distract you.”

You give him an incredulous look, filling with a sense of rage at his stubborn, only interrupted when Steve’s fingers tapping at the underside of your chin, urging you to look up at him.

His eyebrows raise in question, earning a jerky nod in return, letting him guide his cock against your lips, his own hand gripped firmly at his shaft like he’s struggling to stave off his own orgasm, a small pout forming in his lips as he watched his cock slowly disappearing into your mouth until it’s just as deep again. You breath through your nose, a slow, deep intake as he pushes even further and holds you there, his head falls back, “Fuck—that’s so,” Steve lingers on the words, interrupted by Eddie’s never-ending comments.

“She likes the praise, Steve.” Eddie supplies, “No reason to hold back now.”

Steve nods absently, groaning out a broken, “Good girl,” and you swallow around him at that, pulling an even needy groan from his chest, “Oh, good fuckin’ girl.”

He pulls back suddenly, allowing you some relief before slipping back in, his hips moving eagerly into your mouth, hands still gripped firmly at the back of your neck as he fucks into your mouth just as you hoped for, taking as much as him as you could—even if it still wasn’t enough.

You can feel the deep pit of pleasure in your belly, thighs struggling against Eddie’s hold as you tip over the edge unexpectedly, moaning against Steve’s cock—and he’s not expecting it either, gasping out a desperate, “Where? Where can I—“

Steve’s never gone so far to come inside someone’s mouth without asking, but you don’t need to hear it, urging him along with your mouth, lips closing around him tightly as you work him over until he’s coming with a rough groan, pulling gently at your hair from the sheer force that his orgasm hits him, hips thrusting slightly as he rides it out, coming down your throat in long, thick spurts. It’s an afterthought to swallow as he pulls his dick out slowly, resting back on his calves and closing his eyes in exhaustion, letting go of your hair to rest his palms against the mattress.

Eddie looks up with a satisfied grin, having witnessed the exchange with a heated gaze, mouth still shining with your wetness and making him look insane as he laughed, “She’s a keeper, right?” Eddie compliments.

Steve nods dumbly, taking a deep breath as he speaks, “I’ve never came in anyone’s mouth before—that was…”

“Really?” You ask with a lilt to your voice, “Never?”

Steve shakes his head, staring at you openly until Eddie’s forcing his way back up and connecting his mouth with yours sloppily, chuckling through the motions as he pulls Steve down clumsily—he can taste Steve on your tongue, the headiness of it and you can taste yourself just as well, an intense exchange as Eddie sighs into your mouth, “Wanna taste her?” He asks to Steve, tilting his head to the side as Steve hovered over, face just a few inches away from both of you. He smile slightly, connecting his lips to Eddie’s with practiced ease, allowing the dirty exchange of Eddie’s tongue licking into his mouth, pulling on the metalhead's hair in response that has Eddie groaning playfully, teeth showing through his grin.

“I might have to give up that other threesome.” Steve jokes, loose hair bouncing against his forehead as he pulls away, both you and Eddie looking up at him curiously.

“You heard the lady—it’s a one and done deal.” Eddie explains with a hint of sadness, playing up the emotion.

But, Eddie knows far too well, eyeing you until you finally give in with an exasperated sigh.

“We tell no one,” You emphasize, “got it?”

Steve nods eagerly.

“Told you,” Eddie teases, tongue poking out at the corner of his mouth as he smiles, glaring up at Steve, “didn’t I?”

“Told him what?”

“Steve’s a little irresistible to the ladies and gents,” Eddie says knowingly, “even the stubbornest ones.”

You roll your eyes dramatically, “We can forget him next time.” You tell Steve, which he shrugs in response too, seemingly agreeing.

“Hey,” Eddie responds with offense, voice cracking slightly, “what—that’s not fair.”

“She’s the boss.” Steve defends, finding the time to pull his pants back up and shift to lay beside you on the bed.

“Oh wait,” The thought dawns on you suddenly, staring down at Eddie’s noticeably less prominent bulge, “—you didn’t—“

“I did,” Eddie laughs uncomfortably, shifting to reveal noticeable wet spot at the front of his sweats, “speaking of, I need to go change.”

“I’ll keep her company.” Steve grins devilishly, letting Eddie flick his vest back in his direction, the material hitting him directly in the chest as Eddie disappears down the hall.

Eddie’s only slightly offended when he returns to Steve pressing you down into the mattress again, teasing you with the slowest kisses possible. But you pull him in without question, letting him fall into a lazy rhythm of trading kisses—and maybe when the high wore of you’d regret all of it, but you can’t be bothered to care.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #steddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #my writing #1kfic

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danger-noodle-uwu · 10 months

Text

Trigger warning [mentions of killing/arguments/death/break-ups/cheating/etc]

Satan

Wrath is vengeful, wrath is destruction however this never bothered you or got in the way of dating Satan, The Avatar of wrath himself.

But as one could say, the true nature of a being could never remain under the covers. There was vengeance peering above the surface, and destruction awaiting at an unknown's doors, you did not knew.

Satan had great many contacts and to keep that up, he need to do few favors but not every favor was not-so-bloody. And lost in such an expectations of others did he forget an important day like today.

As always the day started as chaos, which couldn't have been helped either way and the blond had grown sick of that, unknown to the cause of chaos and decided to act upon the list he had, completely overlooking your smile, or the stunning outfit complimenting your figure or the day itself.

Upon this ignorance of his, you really wished face-palm. His demeanor was rather annoying, which only fueled you more to smack him. Really hard.

Today was well-planned, at least that's what you thought before dragging him away from his target and scolding him for leaving you on your own in a place crawling with demons.

Satan being the literal embodiment of wrath yet also your lover said "Get off me. I have things to do. And stop being so damn clingy." "Hey, it's your fault for leaving me on my special day!plus, there's sooo many things I wanna do toda–"

"Please shut up for once in your goddamn life!!" His sharp scream cut you off as his eyes bore into yours; eyes full of hatred and disgust as if you were a wretched grotesque placed before him.

Those words accompanied by his harsh glares was enough to make your heart shatter and knifes to be jabbed in your chest while eyes stung with tears that you pathetically hid by averting them as you asked "what did I do wrong..?"

Who knew that one sentence was enough to make those unshed tears flow and litter your rosy cheeks that he'd usually squish and fawn over but alas, all that comforted you was his back.

"Your whole being is the most ugliest!" Lies. Lies. He knew his tongue spat venom at you with words that could never be true because you're his world but the blinding rage doesn't allow him to say so and thus instead, his hand runs through golden locks out of pure frustration as he finally turned to face you.

There was something terrifying about him that very moment which made you mumble out a small "...I'm sorry..." before running off; the sharp pain in your heart only grew with him staring at you like that. It was all just too much. His wrath was suffocating you but to ruin your birthday without even remembering it.

You did didn't care for how bad your muscles ached as you ran further away from him. All that you wanted is to be alone and cry your heart out in hopes that this agony would subside yet part of you hoped that he cared and would come after you or stop you. Which never happened.

Satan has always been so...uncooperative and complicated towards everyone that it almost made him unreachable at times especially when it comes to Lucifer however today, it became different.

His face was scrunched and tense as Lucifer advised him to give you space before talking things out and perhaps getting you a gift as well for both an apology and your birthday; his body pacing back and forth in his room reconsidering things he's spoke until now, not even bothered to consider this as a special day while his elder patiently waited for him to calm down. They both how much you mean to Satan despite him hurting you and making you feel unwanted.

And would anyone look at the avatar of wrath while he's on his knees; practically begging to set things write and for you to accept his apology. However much like always, you don't fail at surprising him when your lips clumsily crash against his.

That he moment he knew how truly beautiful you are in every sense. From physical appearance to your dream-like soul. Every inch was perfect.

Asmodeus

'Touchy and irresponsible as always' you sighed looking over and frowning at Asmodeus who was so clearly lost in the seemingly endless attention they give him as their hands roam his body while he's biting his lip. He was enjoying this, wasn't he?

The thought of him being touched by somebody else made your stomach churn and eyes sting with hurt and envy; he was the avatar of lust, true but couldn't he not do this on your birthday at least and pay attention to you.

You could bet as to how pathetic you were looking drinking demonus with tears in your eyes and surrounded by demons who could just swallow you whole without your lover even batting an eye. Afterall, he'd rather be someone's bed warmer than your boyfriend.

"Hey...are you okay?" Honestly, you didn't know this stranger's name or anything about him but he still had some concern for your well-being; way more than your beloved however made you self-conscious as how pathetic you may have appeared and let your emotions get the best of you in front of unknown people.

"Yea..." you replied flushed from embarrassment and the crimson liquid that rested in your glass. It was really humiliating and made you feel awfully shy at the same time.

"If you say so, but don't hesitate to tell me if there's anything bothering you or if—" He leans closer to whisper in your ear before continuing "—someone's bothering you..." His voice was authoritative yet gentle much akin to a soft breeze from the human world despite being a demon.

"Oh! And I'm Ethan..." a blush ghosted over his cheeks as he realized that he hadn't even introduced himself while you told him yours as he gave you his number offering to help you just in case.

Truth be told, you were smiling to yourself glancing on the tissue that he wrote his number on and the fact that he even wrote happy to help made you grin wider. It was such a sweet gesture.

However unknownst to you, Asmo seemed to have noticed the whole interaction and was fuming with envy; so jealous that he could put Levi to shame. His face burned with heat and beads of sweat rolled down. He hated how that putrid demon had the audacity to flirt and blush at you yet his anger only stirred further when you smiled at him.

The avatar of lust stormed over to you and dragging you out of the fall, harsh grip on your wrist that would probably leave a bruise and then slammed you against the cold wall in the alleyway.

"What are you—!!" You were muffled by his lips smashing against yours; hands roaming your body as desire burned in your veins. Lips synced and danced against each other into a steamy make-out session however he pulled away.

"Why were you flirting with that guy?! You know that demons can hurt you then why my darling must you do this?!" It was irritating as to how he interrogated you but didn't even consider his own actions and the way he neglected you.

Did he even remember your birthday..?

"You say this as if YOU weren't smothering some random people in front of your girlfriend on OUR date!!" And finally, he realized what he's been doing all day. He was avoiding and ignoring you, too busy and consumed by his own...thoughts while you constantly tried to spend quality time with him.

"Baby...I'm sorry..." He coos gently holding your face and cradling you as tears cascaded your face. You looked so miserable because him and he made an internal promise to treat you better and not neglect your emotions.

"Y-you even forgot my birthday..." you sobbed into his soft hands as his eyes widened before he kissed you again. This time much gently and lovingly; full of adoration and affection but desperate for you.

You knew he meant it but forgiving is easier said than done. Even if you would accept him, it'd much later as for now, you wanted him to show is emotions; his real self that was vulnerable and loving; one that was guilty of hurting you. One that loved you beyond his own sin.

You would be lying if you said your heart wasn't melting for him as his hand intertwined with yours while the other rested around your waist and blush littered his face; all for you.

All of him softened just for you; all those emotions showered upon you because all of his love was meant for you.

Beelzebub

Gluttony is like a venom that spreads in your body; turning one into a hungry beast ready to devour his prey and another into a starved being—but for somebody who personified the sin in itself would be beyond a monster or an other horrendous creature imaginable.

Thus, can you really blame Beelzebub for ingesting the whole food supply of house of lamentation alongside of some cutlery after a seemingly intense workout as well 7 hours of helping satan shift his books in order to clean the empty space.

He was salivating at the sight of everything before as his vision molded it into something edible...delicious and well; in front of him were you, standing there awkwardly as his eyes hovered over you however not in a lustful but more like a locking the meat of your bones manner.

"B-beel, you alright..?" His intense gaze made you feel uncomfortable as you shifted in your place yet he didn't blink once as if his hunger overtook him...making him forget who you were.

You couldn't breathe, couldn't move an inch without him lunging at you with those eyes full of hunger for anything to satiate the emptiness within his stomach including you. However, Luck was on your side since it was your own birthday as Asmodeus happened to pass by the scene hoisting his phone up taking selfish before rushing towards you.

"Darling, Beel, what are you guys... doing?" By the end of his question, he knew what was coming. He is well aquaintated with Beel's endless hunger that violently shook the atmosphere in the whole house.

As you stood unblinking staring back at the avatar of gluttony trembling with fear whilst his ragged breaths were heard in the silence of the hall. The very next second he pounced at you transforming into his demon form; claws beared as if he was readily about to rip your heart out.

Yet somehow you were alive; alive and thrown over like a sack of potatoes on Asmo's shoulder as he sprinted towards his room with an echoing sound of certain rumbling in the background that made shiver in dread.

"Honey, you're alright. You're safe, okay? Phew!" He collapsed next to you on the floor next to you after ensuring the door was properly locked, clearly out of breath while still attempting to comfort your troubled form.

Despite knowing he cannot control his hunger, you couldn't help but tighten your throat or fall victim to the ache plastered within your chest. He loves you, you know it but this...hurt more than expected.

The clutches of gluttony were like shackles that bound him and drove him to try to...the thought alone makes you want throw up or is it because his twin succeeded at a similar task.

"Hey...Mc, don't cry, darling. It'll all be okay, I promise! Forget everything it's your birthday, isn't it?" The blond cradled you in his arms trying to shush away your tears meanwhile you sobbed and cried; planned everything, got up early to bake for him and even got the tickets to a movie he was excited about.

"It's so unfair! So unfair, Asmo!!" Why did this have to happen when all you did was try your best? Why are you doomed to fail at every given task? Was this all your fault?

Such thoughts consumed you wholly as your sobs turned into more cries that dragged Asmo's poor heart along with it; it hurt him so much to see someone he considered family be hurt so much. To be broken that they're reduced to a teary mess on the floor.

In the hallway, Lucifer and Satan towered upon Beelzebub who finally calmed down, happily chomping the food he was given; almost uncaring of his twin that laid kissing the ground with a large bruise forming on his forehead.

"W-where *chomp* is cupcake?" He muttered with a mouthful, thinking you must be hungry and not even remembering what he did as he was a puppet under the control of his sin.

"In Asmodues's room..." Lucifer sighed while Satan raged at the sight of the havoc wrecked upon his book—cursed ones, collector's edition, etc. They were everywhere torn into half or bites into and discarded afterwards.

"They must be sobbing since you were ever so nice to them on their birthday!" Satan mocked knowing how badly his brother fucked up while the orange head gushed the memories right into his eyes. Each moment he made a decision worse than the other.

"Oh my poor Mc, sleep well..." you didn't realize how exhausted you were from the whole event that you passed out between Asmo's arms who later tucked you within the comforting confines of your own bed.

But peace never really lasted long as you woke up, only to be greeted by a decorated room, a cake with several other snacks littered on the table and Beelzebub by your side with apologetic eyes as a melody played accompanied by the voices belonging to the remaining brothers.

"I'm sorry, cupcake...I didn't mean to scare you or hurt you, I just don't know what's wrong with me but please forgive me...I love you..." His eyes bore guilt as he was reminded of an older time, an older mistake before his hands caged yours affectionately before kissing them lovingly.

The orange headed demon never wished to be more than your protector, that gives away his life to save yours but also a lover that wants to build a family with you; one that he loves dearer than himself.

Belphegor

Does fate really hate you? If not, why must it be you who suffers with people misunderstanding you or blaming you for actions not performed by you?

"Come on, it's not that bad...just a stupid nightmare!" You hopped onto your feet before changing into your outfit for the day; one that made you feel good about yourself unlike the haunting nightmares that weren't leaving you alone.

As you left your room trying your best to force a smile out, there was a voice that felt familiar as it belonged to a certain great demon who bestowed the wishes of having the best birthday.

"Happy birthday, h-human!" He spoke loudly as if reminding the others of the day despite the whole hall being empty. The gesture in itself was funny, his hand putting your head like a puppy except for the part he himself looked like one.

"Thanks, mammon." And there it was your signature smile that could possibly make anybody melt, though how could you believe it; a rose can never see its reflection.

Reaching the dining hall, the atmosphere felt tense as if everyone was on edge, all but one person. He was missing entirely. Belphegor wasn't there. Was he still asleep?

Before you could ask, Lucifer announced "Belphegor will not be joining us today." And continued to finish his breakfast with what seemed to be a bothered expression.

"Hey beel, what happened?" You couldn't help wonder what did your boyfriend did this time to piss of the eldest and if so, why wasn't satan assisting the crime. "Belphi, h-he said some really mean things..." beelzebub was feeling guilty fill up his stomach, his appetite dying or perhaps killed by someone else.

"Okay..." you knew that the orange headed demon was hiding something, swallowing his own words however why you just couldn't decipher. His voice was strained that it made you feel very uneasy about what really conspired when you were asleep.

"Levi, can you tell me what really happened? Please!!" You pleaded with puppy eyes as soon as the remaining brothers had dispersed from the dining hall; to avoid the extra ears and overly exaggerated explanations.

"Normie, first off promise me you won't tell anybody that i told you this!" He whisper-yelled as you nodded your head vigorously. "Okay--fine, so belphi woke up in a super sour mood and since lucifer decided to call him to the dining hall himself...he said a lot of mean things..."

Leviathan felt a bitter taste in his mouth knowing his next words would most likely ruin your birthday and put you into doubt of your own relationship and partner.

"He spoke a lot of nonsense about lucifer, you know normie...And he--um, he said you weren't that great and just kinda wasted his time w-which is like total bullshit, right? Like normie, you're like Henry 3.0, totally cool and awesome!" He tried his best to soothe the wound he had to give you in order for the truth to be told.

But there it was, a sound of your own heart being crushed and sensation of wet tears dripping down your cheeks. It hurt you so much to hear that your lover spoke of you behind your back that you couldn't take it anymore and sprinted all the way back to your room; leaving Leviathan to only his worry and concern in the dining hall.

Especially on your birthday, that in itself felt like a cheap move being played on you as you felt needles pricking through your chest, and it hurt so much. It felt like the nightmares were true when they played the same scenario where he used you; he used you like a pawn.

Meanwhile, in the twins' room, Belphegor laid in bed with a weird feeling filling him; one that felt so heavy that he couldn't sleep it off. But why? He just couldn't pinpoint.

"Belphi, have spoken with Mc yet? It's their birthday...you should really go to see them..." the avatar of gluttony had his head lowered as he pouted; visibly hungry but at a lack of food.

"WHAT!" "Yea its their birthday, belphi..?" Belphegor panicked for at least 5 minutes before gathering himself and rushing to the kitchen to make something--a cake, should it be okay but what if you're craving ramen instead..? Or something salty? SHIT

He's never been so frantic and panicked; he felt like a single mother raising 6 children...wait why does that sound familiar? ANYWAYS, no time for that.

It took about 2 hours for the whole thing to be prepared; while he had tasked satan to buy your favorite snacks. In the end, he was drenched in sweat from the whole last minute preparation that he did.

On the other hand, you were passed out on your bed; tears dried up on your face and slightly puffy lips and very gracelessly flopped onto your bed.

Belphegor's heart ached at the sight of you, he knew his words have been heard by someone who didn't deserve them. Who deserved love and not such cruel things.

"Love, wake up...c'mon its your birthday..." He voice was gentle as if a one wrong word could shatter you like glass and his hands caressed your cheeks; before kissing you passionately.

You rubbed your eyes as your boyfriend kissed your forehead and pulled you off of the bed. He was smothering you with kisses somewhat lazily; letting eachone feel feather like on your skin.

"Happy birthday my star, I'm sorry for what is said earlier...I promise you that I never meant any of it...I just--lost myself to anger, I'm sorry." He's efforts were visible in both his voice and your room; the blanket Fort certainly seemed impressive and most likely he had your favorite movie paused.

"It's not okay to speak such things about you're partner belphi on any day let alone their birthday. Yet I am much kinder than you think...I forgive you." You pouted with fake anger evident in your voice; playing pretend was fun as hr fell for your words in the beginning but definitely caught up in the end.

And as the day came to a close, you both were snuggled into each other's warmth and cuddling; the harsh words and hot tears forgotten or perhaps changed into smiles of contentment.

Afterall, belphegor was your dark sky and you were his star; without one the other would feel empty and out of place. He was the one who wanted to drown into the depths with you or burn with the passion he held for you...And both remain a pleasure to him...

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

A/n; I had no ideas for belphi and was abt to write he slept that it off like he was in a coma xD

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ℍ𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕒 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕪

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redtsundere-writes · 9 days

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OnlyFans | Toji Fushiguro

onlyfansboyfriend!toji fushiguro x femphotographer!reader

Sypnosis: You recently discovered that your boyfriend has an OnlyFans. You think he could look sluttier. Warnings: Minors do not interact. Mdni. Top!Toji Fushiguro, oral sex, smut, vaginal sex, rough and raw sex. Word Count: 1830 words. Author's Note: I was inspired to write this fic after reading @jujutsubaby 's headcanons.

Your feet were pedaling as fast as you could to get to your boyfriend's apartment. The wind rushed through your hair as you maneuvered the bike horns throughout the street. You just had been promoted, and you wanted to tell your boyfriend the good news in person. Maybe you could go to dinner and you would invite him this time. Toji was the one always taking you out to dinner every weekend, showering you with lavish gifts and sending flower arrangements to your office. You had barely been dating for 6 months, you didn't know what exactly he did for a living, but you knew he never had to worry about money.

You got to the apartment in record time and opened the door with the copy of the key he had recently given you. High-pitched moans along with your boyfriend's groans immediately caught your attention. "Fucking bastard, he's cheating on me!" you thought, filling up with rage. You ran to his room to catch him in the act, but you were the one who got the surprise.

You opened the door to his room and froze at the scene. Toji was masturbating his erect cock in front of a camera perched on a tripod in front of you. He was moaning like a bitch in heat as he rubbed the tip in circles with his veiny hand while a purple cock ring at the base of his big dick. His body was oiled up, his lips slightly opened and the sound of his skin against itself created such an amazing erotic image that your panties got instantly wet. The high-pitched moans came from a porn video playing on his computer. You knew your boyfriend was a sexual beast, but you didn't plan to see him like that at that moment.

“Hello, my love, what are you doing here?” Toji asked, breaking the character he was acting in front of the camera. He paused the porn video, turned off the camera and sat on the edge of the bed as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. His cock was still erect, patient to be touched again.

“What the fuck is this?” You ask confused, pointing at the camera and his beefy, oiled up body.

“I'm shooting a video for my OnlyFans,” he answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. If your jaw was already on the floor, it was now underground. “Oh come on, honey, how do you think I paid for all the stuff I give you? By working honestly?” He scoffed.

“Do you have an OnlyFans?” You asked, processing the information you had just been given.

Toji sighed in disappointment and moved the camera out of the way to approach you. He could see in your reaction that you were disappointed in him. Toji Fushiguro will never quit his OnlyFans for anything or anyone in the world. Since he reached a thousand subscribers, he never had to worry about paying the household expenses or monthly school fees for his son, Megumi. He was a financially free man. He doesn't even remember when was the last time he looked at the price of something before buying it. In addition to the money, he loved the attention he received through the live feeds or the horny comments left on his nude photos.

“If it bothers you so much, let's call it quits,” he replied, annoyed at being criticized.

It was for this reason that Toji never revealed what he did for a living. He was already used to his girlfriends dumping him because of his work. Whenever he told them he was a sex worker, they would either freak out, break up with him or get jealous of his subscribers. It was a shame that you were like the others, he had grown fond of you over the last few months.

“What are you talking about?” You asked confused.

“I know you're going to break up with me. Just give me the key and let's forget this ever happened,” he said directly, extending his hand to you so you would give him the key.

“Toji, I am not mad that you have an OnlyFans. I am mad that you didn't tell me,” you replied annoyed.

He looked at you in surprise at the unexpected accusation. He really thought you'd go off like all the others. It was refreshing to see a girl confident enough to go out with him despite having over a thousand people drooling online over him.

“I want to see your pictures,” you asked.

Toji showed you his laptop with his OnlyFans profile. There were everything from pictures of him in front of a mirror in his underwear to videos of him masturbating. Toji didn't need anything else to be one of the most attractive men in the world, but his profile was very boring. Many of his photos were similar, and all the videos are shot from the same angle. A boring, bland and soporific profile. Toji could do much better than this.

From that day on, you decided to help him improve his profile to get more subscribers. You bought him lingerie, costumes, and sex toys. At the beginning you did it because you wanted him to win more money, but little by little he became your experiment. Every time you saw some hot guy doing something sexy on the internet, you wanted your boyfriend to imitate him. Your panties would get wet, and your nipples would get aroused every time you forced him to wear tight maid outfits, watched him masturbate live with toys you bought him or put him in different positions for the camera. Sometimes they would fuck after the photo shoot, but not when shooting videos.

As the months passed, they had reached 8k subscribers. To celebrate, Toji decided to do a livestream titled: “Fucking my photographer in appreciation for the 8k”. It was Toji’s idea. At first, you completely refused fearing that someone from your work would see it, but he convinced you by saying you could wear a mask and promised to take you shopping afterward.

You rented a room in one of the most expensive motels in town. The room was surrounded by mirrors covering every inch of wall, had a heart-shaped jacuzzi and a king-size bed with white sheets. The perimeter of the ceiling had purple LED lights that helped to conceive the sensual ambiance. You put on the latex bunny mask and a matching lingerie set Toji bought for you.

You lay down on the bed while Toji prepared the camera. He soon climbed on top of you to start the show. He pulled you close to his chest and kissed you passionately. Your bodies rubbed against each other, patient to get to the most interesting part, but you couldn't speed up the process. You had to make the spectators horny with foreplay. His strong hands roamed your lower back, molding your ass to his liking. His wet lips roamed over every part of your hot body.

Toji maneuvered you to his pleasure. He would put you in any position he wanted, rub his big member in any available cavity and make you feel like the only woman in the world. His sharp teeth bit into your bra to tear the fabric and take possession of your breasts. He licked, twisted and massaged your nipples, taking you on a non-stop aphrodisiac journey. Toji wasn't planning to hold back tonight. He was going to reward you for your hard work.

He whipped your body against the bed to get rid of your pesky panties. He stuck his head between your legs, sinking into your delicious shaft. Your back arched as soon as his tongue came in contact with your sensitive meat button. Toji ate you whole as if he had never tasted a bite in his life. You closed your legs due to the high level of pleasure, pressing against his head, but he forced you to open them again. He was a green-eyed predator watching his prey reaction as he tore it apart.

He sat on the edge of the bed and placed you on his lap. Your back was against his beefy chest. You could feel his soft pecs against your shoulder blades. He forced you to sit on his cock, facing the camera. His hands squeezed your waist to force you to ride his dick at an addictive pace you couldn't resist. His big member pounded the depths of your intimacy without any mercy. He spread your legs so that you were fully exposed to the viewers, he wanted everyone to see how beautiful you looked every time he fucked you.

“Toji~! Give me more!” You were a mess, you moaned his name every chance you got and gasped incoherently every time Toji pounded you with the almighty.

“Do you like when everyone sees what a slut you are?” I asked, smirking.

Toji could do whatever he wanted with you. You were his favorite toy, the muse he wanted to satisfy, the woman he owed so much to. He kissed your whole body, he fucked you until you forgot you were being filmed, and his passionate panting moans you crazy. His big cock hit all the right places as he hugged your waist to keep you close, as if you were going to escape. No one is foolish enough to want to escape Toji Fushiguro's strong arms.

“I'm cumming, Toji~!” You gasped as he stuffed you from behind.

The older one wouldn't stop moving even though he was sweating in places where he didn't know he could sweat from. He was ramming you full steam ahead, widening your insides and making sure to give you all he could offer. Your wet pussy could barely withstand the monstrosity he had. You moaned for more even though you knew you were about to cum. Toji decided to speed up the process, massaging your clit wretchedly. Your body contorted, falling victim to the brutal pleasure that coursed through you completely. A spasm took over your body, and you finally cum. It wasn't long before you felt Toji's hot cum invade your insides.

After a long livestream, Toji ordered food from the room service. You were eating burgers on the bed while watching Netflix. Your legs wouldn't stop shaking from the stress you had put them through. It maybe was an ordinary burger, but after three orgasms, it tasted like it was the best burger in the world. Toji put his arm around you to pull you closer to his body.

“You did very well,” he congratulated you. “We should do it more often.”

“I'll think about it,” you said with a shy smile.

His hand moved to your side, drawing your attention. Turns out he had hugged you to sneakily steal a fry from your plate. You slapped his hand to make him let go, and he just laughed nervously.

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skyebounded · 1 year

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Empty Words.

Masterlist .Harry Potter Universe Masterlist.

premise: There are some things you just can’t fix, and there are some words that mean absolutely nothing anymore.

pairing: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

warnings: unedited work, swearing, angst, cheating? kinda? toxic relationship.

wc: 1.5K

a/n: SORRY IF THIS IS SHITTY. anyway, I just wrote this in like an hour (hence the unedited-ness) but I hope you enjoy none the less. *casually shrugs*

SIDENOTE: THIS MAN IS SO DAMN FINE IT HURTS ME PHYSICALLY.

“Oh, you’ve got to be joking! Really Theo, that's the best you could come up with? You're sorry!?”

The look of disappointment growing on your face as you ran your fingers through your hair, taking a deep breath, as you tried to calm your nerves. You couldn’t see a way out of this one, not this time, and thought it hurt you, tugged at you to finally admit it, you had too.

The look on his face, that small semblance of guilt and regret written over his features was almost enough to make you forget it, to just sweep it under the rug like he hadn’t screwed up, like he hadn’t hurt you, but it wasn’t.

He reached out for you, letting his hand fall short as he saw the way you shirked away from him, clearly not wanting him to touch you in the slightest. The truth was, you were afraid that if you let him, that you wouldn’t be able to go through with it.

“I fucked up, I know, baby please..” he pleaded, the smallest traces of nervousness laced in his tone. He looked almost as if he was shaking, truly afraid. He was just about ready to throw himself to his knees and beg you, but he kept his pride, bolstered up and secure.

“Fucked up? That's an understatement Theodore!” You had never used his full name before, knowing how much he hated to be called it. You could see the way it stunned him, rendering him speechless for the shortest period of time before his jaw tensed and his body went stiff. You could see his jaw quivering ever so slightly, like he was holding back either tears, or the urge to yell, which one? you didn’t know.

“Theo, your hand was down her skirt! Your tongue down her fucking throat! Thats what you call a fuck up?” You wanted to rage, hit him, express how hurt you really were. You felt like your heart had been crushed in his hands, turned to dust with a simple touch, and then the remnants of it were blown into your face, all at your lover's hand.

Despite everything you had heard about him, you had taken the chance, the risk, simply because you thought you were different, that he was different when he was with you, but he had proven to be exactly what everyone said. A cheater, a liar, nothing good, that's what he was. Nothing good. You felt so unbelievably stupid, falling for him. You could never seem to fully wrap your mind around why he chose you, and maybe this was why, because he could make a fool out of you, and by the time you realised it, it would all be too late. He had won you over with his charm, beautiful blue eyes, and handsome face, ignoring the warnings that you received, and it had all come back to bite you in the ass. You could feel the tears building in your eyes, prickling at the corners, but you were determined to keep them at bay. You wouldn’t let him see you cry, it would only prove your point. You glanced up to the stone ceiling, taking in a deep breath, fighting the way your bottom lip quivered.

He had stepped closer now, and you swore you could hear his heart beating out of his chest, he was scared, so scared to lose you, and yet he was the one who messed up. He was the one that had ruined everything you guys had built together. All those countless nights together, wrapped up-tangled in the sheets, all the times you had spent telling him your secrets that you swore you’d tell no one, and all the ones that he had told you, finally being able to let down his guard, all of it, wasted over a single moment. He couldn’t be angrier with himself, but he didn’t know how to tell you that, to make you see that he was so unbelievably sorry for all the pain he had caused you. Part of him felt like there was no real reason to tell you he was sorry, he felt as if it would only be salt in the wound, and he was right, that's all it felt like to you.

You couldn’t see how he could be so sorry, but yet he had still done it, you couldn’t fathom how that could outway the bad that he had done.

“Y/n… please…I know-I…I” he didn’t know anymore what to say to make it okay, to fix it. He knew that deep down there was nothing he could do, not anymore. Nothing he said or did would fix his mistake, and now he would have to live with the consequences. Throwing himself at your feet, wrapping his strong arms around your waist, clinging to you afraid that when he let go, you’d be gone. He didn’t know what to do. “Y/n I love you…and I am so so sorry.” he tried.

“No you don't! You don't love me, Theo, If you loved me you would have never! Could never! Thats not fucking love, that is nowhere near close!”

Tears had breached his own eyes, staining the fabric of your skirt as he buried his head into you. A single tear broke from your eye, trailing down your heated cheek, cascading over your chapped lips. You could taste the salt, that conformation. You were frozen, unable to remove him from you. You didn’t want him to let go. Your breath had become uneven, chest heaving as your heart raced, ached. He loved you? That's what he had said, and yet.. Holding your breath you pushed him away, desperate to break free from him, but he wouldn’t break from you, his grip only tightened.

“Theo, no..” you cried, “no you-you-Theo stop….please.” you squirmed in his grasp, panting as the tears broke from your eyes, trickling down your face. You clenched them still, hoping that it would stop them, but it only encourages them.

“I can’t…I can’t let you go, y/n…I won’t…please..” he begged.

He had finally left his pride at the door, here on his knees, begging you to forgive him, to overlook what he had done. The further he buried himself into your embrace, the harder it got to pull him away, to step away from him.

“Theo, let go!” there was something so firm, demanding about your voice, it was so final. For a brief moment his grip loosened, just enough for you to break from him, pushing yourself up against the door, palms flat against the wood, and the other clutching your abdomen. You took a deep breath, the tears still flowing freely from you, as you fought to catch the escaping air. Your cheeks were rosy, heated with embarrassment, pain even, your eyes still clenched shut. You were afraid to look at him, to see how he was affected by the whole thing.

He hadn’t moved, hadn’t stood up, he was paralysed to the spot. His eyes fixed on you, as his eyes became glossy. He was numb. He hadn’t realised it until just now, you were lost to him, gone mentally and physically from him. You weren’t his and he wasn’t yours. No, he was yours, he’d always be yours, he thought, he would never stop…being yours.

The silence had become defining, holding you captive as you stayed glued to the door to his room. You couldn’t move, couldn’t bring yourself to pull the door open and leave. Leaving meant it was completely over, all of it. And the truth of the matter was, it was over the moment you had seen it, the moment you had opened this forsaken door that you were now using as your sole support system. All of it had come crumbling down right before your eyes in a manner of seconds. A year's worth of ‘love’ ripped from you in a fleeting instant. Now, now it was time to accept it, to let it go, let him go. He didn’t even deserve that much, he deserved none of this, none of your patience, your willingness to listen to him tell you his poor excuse, not even the tears that you shed in his company. None of it. You had to do it.

You opened your eyes, the tears ceasing for what felt like a brave moment as you stared down at him. Your face is fixing into that numb state of emptiness. No emotion, no feeling whatsoever. Your jaw clenched, breathing steady, despite your heart clamouring out of your chest at the sight of him.

“And here I thought….you started, brushing your tongue along the inside of your cheek as you contemplated whether or not you wanted to hurt him just as much as he had done to you. “You know, you’re not even worth my words, Theodore. And to think I thought you cared…fuck you..We’re done.” You kept your voice as level as you could, doing your best to stay strong, as you reached for the doorknob, wrenching it open, stopping the moment you heard him stand up. Your body stilled, waiting, listening, but he did nothing…said nothing, not until you had forced yourself to step out of the room, flinging the door shut behind you.

“I’m sorry..” he mumbled, but you were already gone.

#Theodore Nott #theo nott angst #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theo nott x reader #theodore nott angst #angst #harry potter fanfiction #slytherin #theodore nott x you #theo nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theo nott x y/n #draco malfoy #theodore nott imagine #slytherin fanfiction #blaise zabini

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luveline · 5 months

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Jade! I was re reading your zombie au steve fics and I just love our bestie eddie and jealous steve in tbem so much:’) I would love to see more of their relationship love you!!!

love u ♡ steve zombie au. fem!reader

“Would you mind fucking off?” Steve asks.

Eddie tsks under his breath, “You know, this whole jealousy thing you have over me is kind of sexist.”

Steve could melt metal with the way he's feeling. “It's not sexism, I'm not jealous, and if I were, it wouldn't be over you, it would be of you.”

Eddie grins. “That's all you had to say, baby.”

You laugh but quickly stop, eyes darting to Steve's as you push Eddie away from you. It honestly makes it worse, not because you aren't allowed to sit with your (Steve shudders) friend, and not because it doesn't feel good to see you so quick to remove Eddie from your side, but because by doing so, you've proven to Steve that you are, in fact, aware of his jealousy.

“I'm not jealous!” Steve lies.

“And I'm not interested,” you say quickly. “Sorry.”

Eddie shrugs and sits right back next to you in the grass. He kind of has to, considering the knot he's trying to teach you to tie needs demonstration, but still. Steve hopes he ties the knot around one of his fingers and needs an emergency amputation.

“Jealousy is a horrible thing,” Eddie says, almost like he can hear Steve's thoughts. “Have you considered finding a friend for Y/N to be jealous of?”

“I already did that for a bit,” you say, squinting at the shoelace in your hand unhappily, “but then she made me cry and Steve bought me cherries and I didn't worry about it again.” Ah, Vanessa. Old camp, old friend, you told Steve she was making fun of you and he never looked her in the eye again.

He'd quite like it if you followed his lead, but Vanessa was a bully, and Eddie, to Steve's dismay, is a good friend.

“So what I'm hearing,” Eddie says, his grin audible, “is I get to make Steve cry.”

“Are you gonna–?” Steve asks you.

You sigh and shove Eddie away again. He actually pretends to fall onto his side in the grass. “This is really impeding my progress in becoming a knot tying expert, Stevie. Are you sure we can't kiss and have you get over it?”

Steve is jealous, but lots of the outward symptoms he shows are either from a want to be immature or just to make you laugh. He trusts you completely and doesn't think for a moment you'd ever, ever cheat. He even knows —deep down— that Eddie's a good guy who'd never do that to him. But it still rubs Steve just the tiniest bit the wrong way when he sees Eddie's pinkie finger brush yours as he corrects you, or your stupid matching coats.

You and Steve used to have matching coats until your sleeve tore on a branch. Steve decides he has a vendetta against trees, and then he takes a few calming breaths.

“How would us kissing help Steve get over it?”

“Not you!” you laugh.

Steve loves the sound so much he pretty much forgets what he's annoyed about. “Sound more disgusted,” he encourages cheerily.

“I'd never kiss him,” you say, tying the string around your two fingers and pulling the aglet through the loop you've made. Your wrinkled nose smooths as you check your knot against Eddie's, and then, in one of your cutest moments to date, you gasp and turn straight to Steve. “I did it!”

“What was I impeding again?” he asks.

You push your foot out with your over complicatedly tied laces and turn onto your thigh. He's a genius (he knows you better than he knows anyone, past or present, knows you better than he knows himself), anticipating your movement with his arm already out to welcome you for a victory hug. “Our laces will never need tying again,” you say.

“Except when you need to change your socks,” Eddie says.

Steve puts his middle finger up behind your back, nosing at your forehead. “You're amazing.”

You really want the hug. Your hands meet behind his back and your lips brush his throat as you press in close, his lovely girl; you don't know how lovely you are, how the exact details of your hug play out in his mind frame by frame. He's made a million mistakes and he still gets to have you.

You hug him and it's like the end of the world didn't happen.

Eddie scratches his scalp. “Harrington, not that I think you'd be into this, but I've been tying that knot for the last year, and nobody ever kissed me for it.”

“He hasn't kissed me,” you say.

“Don't stomp on a downed man,” Eddie says severely. Then, sweeter, “Just a quick one, Stevie.”

“A whole camp of people,” Steve says to you. “Any best friend you want. Hell, I'll share Robin.”

“You do share Robin,” you say, languishing in his hug much longer than he was expecting you to, your arms having curled tighter now around him with no signs of letting go.

Eddie Munson might have a crush on you. He might have a crush on Steve, too, or neither of you. The boy’s too jovial to tell. Steve will sleep better at night if he believes the latter though, so he marks the hug for your achievement with a kiss pressed softly to your forehead and decides for the hundredth time since you came here that he won't be jealous anymore. He has nothing to be scared of and he knows that, so why give Eddie a hard time.

Eddie smirks and closes his eyes. “M'waiting.”

Steve puts his arm over your shoulder. “And you'll wait more.” He turns to you, murmurs, “How about we go and find you something sweet?”

Eddie's lips part in disgust. “What kind of dirty talk is that?”

You stand and kick Eddie without force in the thigh. “Thank you for teaching me, Eddie. Same time tomorrow?”

Eddie drops his theatrics. “Sure. Let's do the next one Risky Business style.”

You pull Steve away by the hand. He thinks you sorta like that he's jealous, being the object of his attention and affection at all, so he says, “If you leave me for him I'm gonna let a bachelor take me out, and not for dinner.”

“A bachelor couldn't get its teeth through all this muscle,” you say, squeezing his arm.

Doesn't make a lick of sense, geeks only have to break the skin to get you, but it doesn't matter. “I love you,” he says happily.

You lean into his side heavily as you walk. “I love you, too. More, for sure.”

“Not a chance.”

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

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sophiethewitch1 · 4 months

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In Death's Embrace Pt. 2

Jason Todd x Death!Reader

Part one!

Jason shoots up in bed, his hand stretched out. He’s sweating, drenched in his own panic in fear. His hand falls into his lap, still twitching. He doesn’t remember what he was dreaming about, doesn’t remember what he was trying to grasp.

He knows he failed. He knows it slipped through his fingers like sand. He doesn’t think there’s anything more tragic in the world. He doesn't know why.

“Once again, you amaze me. Breaking the rules of the universe, not once, but twice.”

His hand is wrapped around his gun before you even finish the sentence. It’s pointed between your eyes once you do. To your credit, whoever just broke into his apartment without triggering any of his alarms, you don’t even flinch. No, you just fold your hands behind your back and give him an odd look.

You tilt your head, eyes moving over the scars on his face and catching on the lock of white hair he sports. Then, your face breaks into a smile, and something in Jason’s heart jumps. There’s a knowing in your eyes that he doesn’t like. An understanding.

You see through him, somehow. He doesn’t like it. He’ll shoot you for the offence.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?” Jason demands, assessing you like you assess him. You don’t look like a combatant, in long dark flowing fabrics. Still, he knows not to underestimate someone based on their appearance.

That damned clown never looked like a threat. And now he was standing here, with someone who seemed just as crazy in his bedroom. Only someone that crazy would break into his home.

“Are you going to shoot me?” your words are teasing, eyes fond. Maybe you’re crazier, then. You don’t believe he’ll do it. He will.

He should have already. It’s base curiosity that holds his trigger finger. That’s what he thinks it is, at least.

“I might,” he finally says, “Again, who the fuck are you?”

“It’s interesting talking to you like this. You knew who I was straight away last time, but this time you turn your weapon to me,” you continue, ignoring his threat. A muscle jumps in his cheek, annoyed at your presence, at your blatant disregard for him.

“Last time?”

Your smile turns into a bright grin. He’s momentarily stunned by it.

“So, you really haven’t won just yet. That gives me a small measure of pride,” you say, walking over to the window with your hands still behind your back, “Maybe enough to spare you from my anger.”

You look over at him again. Purse your lips.

“Maybe not.”

“I think you forget who is holding the gun,” Jason reminds you, clicking his teeth at the way you just shrug.

You go quiet. No more teasing words or ominous warnings. Jason should shoot, shoot now. He’d hate the cleanup, hate the mess, hate all the effort, but it was necessary. You were dangerous. That much was obvious.

Instead, he opens his big dumb mouth and asks, “What do you want?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “Is it terrible I don’t know? Rules are rules after all, but this situation is… complicated. You’re not another Sisyphus, you don’t even want to be here.”

“You broke into my home and started threatening me. That doesn’t sound complicated,” Jason insists. This is such a fucking weird conversation. And Sisyphus? Jason had done his homework, he knew about the mythical man who cheated death. He thinks he’s actually quite a lot like Sisyphus.

He still doesn’t appreciate the comparison.

“Yes well, I don’t want to be here either, de-” your voice cuts off, eyes widen in surprise, and then narrow on him like he caused some great offence. Inside him, he feels his dead little heart wither even further at the sight. Like you being upset with him was one of the worst mistakes of his life.

Once again, you broke into his house. All he’d done was tell you to get lost. Oh, and maybe threaten to shoot you, but who cares about that. He soothes the momentary panic, insisting you obviously hadn’t.

Which is dumb. He’s being an idiot. Jason Todd is being an absolute moron right now, and he just needs to shoot you.

Instead of paying attention to the gun trained on you, you stare out his window, at the streets of Gotham’s Hill district below. The sun is rising, rays bursting through the fog. The people are just getting up with it. It’s one of the few times the city is anything close to quiet. Most are still sleeping, and so is crime.

Warm sunlight catches on your cheek, and again, something inside Jason cries out at the sight. It’s worrying.

“I think I want you dead, again,” you confess.

Jason’s breath whooshes out of his lips, and his gun arm twitches for a second. Well, fuck him, that’s certainly a statement. And again, why hadn’t he shot you?

He still doesn’t do it. He must be crazy, too.

“I’m being greedy. I always have been, of course. It’s what I am… But especially this time, I think I’m being too greedy,” you sound sad, your fingers trailing across the wooden window frame, “I think I shouldn’t be here, but it’s the ones like you who make it hard.”

You rub dust against your fingers, and Jason feels embarrassed for the state of his home. He realises a second later what a stupid thought that is, you broke in. He wonders how many times he’ll have to repeat it to remember it. He feels uncomfortable and off-kilter, and he knows it’s because of you.

He needs to get you out.

“I’ve always hated the special ones, you know. The smart ones. You’re too good at pulling me, manipulating me, tugging on my strings like a puppet. You make me human,” you turn back to him, crossing your arms and resting against the sill. You’re comfortable in his home, more so than he usually is. Calm, relaxed, like the world is at peace, and worries are something of the past.

He wonders what that must be like. Fucking delightful, he bets.

“Are you not human?”

You raise an eyebrow in response.

Shit. Ah, fuck it. His finger tightens, and the recoil jerks his arm. The silencer keeps the early apartment quiet. Quiet, if not for the sound of the bullet clattering to the ground.

You both glance down at the crumpled piece of metal sitting pathetically on the floor. You lean over, pick the piece up, and then lift it to your eye, watching that same sunlight reflecting the early morning in the steel. A small rainbow flitters across your skin. You close your fist, and you stroll over to Jason.

It takes him a moment to remember to be wary of you, and by that time, you already have his hand cradled between yours.

You place the remnants of the bullet in his scarred palm.

“I expect an apology for that later,” your voice is soft, sweet. Loving, even after he shot you in the chest. Not like it did anything. Your fingers curl around his, tracing every crack and crevice. You do it with concentration, with precision, like you were made just to touch him, to comfort him.

A memory, gone in a flash. He feels it’s loss like a toothache.

He swallows, “I’m sorry.”

You laugh, and the sun’s not outside, it’s in his bedroom and it’s smiling and it’s everything and it’s here in his grasp and he knows it’ll be okay again. It has to be okay again. You said it’d be okay, didn’t you? He can’t remember. His head’s swirling, spinning, falling right into you. Right back into you.

“Or now, that’s fine too,” you sound delighted. He’s glad.

You let go of him, and move back to the window, drawn by the view outside. Jason's hand clasp and unclasp. The street obviously fascinates you, your eyes flicking back and forth and tracking the movement of every soul outside. He wants your gaze back on him.

Jason clears his throat. You glance back at him, then pointedly, his right hand.

He can feel his face flush, embarrassingly. He’s still holding the gun. He turns the safety off and tucks it back under his pillow.

He clears his throat again. He wants something from you, expects it, really. But he can’t tell what it is. He thinks you know, though. That you’re withholding it, for some reason. He’s irrationally irritated at that. You said you were greedy, but nothing could compare to his greed.

Even if you wanted him dead. He was starting to put together the pieces, but he couldn’t seem to feel alarmed. No, it simply wasn’t necessary, with you here.

Still, it’s not quite enough. He wants more. He wants to know more. So he waits for you to speak again.

“I’ve thought about doing this so many times over the years. It would’ve been selfish, and more than that, outside of my duty. You’re not one of mine anymore. For a little while, at least.”

He wants to be. He wants to be yours. He wants it more than he can breathe. If he’s yours, maybe you can be his.

You glance to the side, thinking out loud, “But then you went and started remembering. I’ve worked very hard to make sure that’s impossible, you know. That the memories from my realm stay there.”

You turn a disapproving glance his way.

“Of course, far be it for me to get in the way of a Wayne and his decision to break the world. You lot do that far too much, give me too much work,” you mutter that last part, hand moving to your brow. Like you’re massaging away a headache. He should be doing that for you.

“But you did it. And you’re here. And now I am, too. And I have to go soon.”

You drift closer to him, and Jason’s breath catches. He’s still. He doesn’t make a single movement, scared he’ll scare you away. He realises that’s stupid. That you caught a bullet to the chest. That you’re stronger than anything he could imagine.

He still thinks he could startle you if he’s not careful. That you’re like the mist outside, incorporeal. But Jason can do anything if he puts his mind to it. He knows how to catch the wind, how to gather steam on the underside of glass, how to cup sand and water and feathers and everything that would ever want to be outside of his reach.

You’re out of his reach. He has to let you step into it.

You stop a foot away from him. He grinds his teeth, and again, you raise a brow at him. He doesn’t move, despite his muscles screaming at him too. You give him a nod and take another step closer. He still doesn’t move, and you give him a satisfied look.

“So, what should we do, Jason?”

“How do you know my name?”

“What? Did dying strip you of any brains?”

The banter is familiar. He doesn’t mean to ruin it.

“Do you have to leave?” again, a voice in his mind whispers. You look sad, again. Again, again, again. All of this is an again.

“Eventually. Sooner rather than later,” you sigh, “You can keep a secret, can’t you, Jason?”

“Not if you leave.”

It’s a bold move. You take a step back, and he winces. Back and forth, back and forth… Still, he doesn’t take the words back. He can’t, because it’s the truth, and now that you’re here, there’s no going back. He’ll do anything to keep you with him, and if you go too far for him to reach, he’ll follow you.

“I think that’s an unfair request,” you say, and he shakes his head.

“It’s fair. You don’t have to stay forever, just a while.” Now that, that is a lie. You seem to know it, too.

You look out the window again. Jason, after a moment's hesitation, moves over beside you. You don’t flee, your attention is on the people below. He opens the window for you, and you give him another smile. He collects them like the rare treasures they are. You lean out into the air, and he freaks, then realises you’d shrugged off a bullet. He stays close, vigilant, anyway.

“I’m curious, I have to admit. What’s this place like?” you ask, resting elbows on the wood. The streets are foggy, as they usually are in the morning. The Hill isn’t the nicest place, not the cleanest either, but you look at it like it’s heaven incarnate. He can see his neighbour down at the local grocer, the old woman who hoards cats seeing her grandson off to school, and one of his guys hanging out on the street, keeping the space safe.

Under his orders. The Hill wasn’t the nicest place, but he liked to keep it as nice as possible.

...Peaceful, he wanted the people here to have their peace. He was obsessed with it, really.

“It sucks.”

You laugh again, music to his ears, “Not the best advertising.”

“I take it back, it’s the best place on earth,” he replies, barely paying attention to his words. He’s seeing how close he can get to you. How many inches he can claim. His face is almost in your neck by the time you lean back, and he curses under his breath.

“It doesn’t need to be,” you say, pushing away from the sill and turning to wander around his room. You take in everything about the space. From the general mess, to the Jane Austen books crammed into his bookshelf, to the mask he’s left half-hazard on his bedstand.

You watch it all, just as fascinated with the world outside as the one inside. He wants to believe that means he’s special to you. And if it doesn’t, that just means he needs to work a little harder.

Finally, you turn to him. You take in every facet of him, once again. Your all-knowing gaze finds his hair again. You seem especially fascinated by that. You lift your hands, and he’s in them before he realises he’s moved.

You map his features with your hands, and he makes a little sound in the back of his throat. Ignoring that, you wipe the bags under his eyes. He feels his sanity slip away under your touch. You trace the scar on his chin, the one above his left brow. The stubble along his jaw. The bump in his nose. The edge of his lips. He wonders at the smirk you give when he groans. And finally, you come to that strand of hair.

You tug on it. A memory fizzles again, and to his frustration, he can’t quite grab it. Can’t quite take it, claim it. It’s not his, not yet.

You haven’t given him permission to remember. He wants it, he wants it, he needs it.

“I think I can stay, maybe. Just for a little, just a little. You want that, right?” your hands cup his face, and he knows, somehow, that you’ve done this a thousand times. And if this is the thousand-and-first time you’ve held him like this, he’s glad. To be back in your embrace is the sweetest pleasure. The greatest relief.

“Yes. Yes, yes… yes, I do,” he’s nodding, he’s begging, he’s pleading with you. Just for a moment more, just a second more. Just a little bit more, before you let him go again. He leans down and presses his forehead to you, sighing in your scent, the wheat reeds in the wind, the warm sun on skin.

He wonders what he has to do to make sure you never let go again. He wonders if you’ll let him do it.

You shake your head, giving him a rueful smile, “You really are too cute, darling.”

That nickname. The key to his heart, his mind. Every single barrier keeping him from you is gone, crumbled by your will. He is thankful you’ve given them back. He is thankful for every moment you ever had with him. And he’ll make a thousand more.

He presses his lips to yours, arms holding you close. When you melt into him, sigh into the kiss, he feels a euphoria he didn’t know could be true. He feels a relief he didn’t know even in his days under, even when you only held him.

He feels alive with it.

“Thank you for coming back,” he whispers against you, and he can feel that familiar, that damning smile spread.

“You left me. I had to hunt you down myself, Jason dear.”

Maybe he couldn’t have his peaceful death. But he had a loving one, and that was all he needed.

#jason todd upon remembering reader: ah so seppuku it is #jason todd loyal dog core ftw #also the dynamic here is too funny #you came with the intention of putting him in his place and got shot and decided ‘hes too sweet to leave alone. look how sad he is :(‘#jason todd huge W for once in his suffering life #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #jason todd headcanon #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #read hood imagine #red hood headcanon #red hood fanfiction #part 3... perhaps?#or maybe a prologue #jason meeting his death for the first time and reader being all mysterious and kind

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