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nexusnyx · 1 year

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moment's silence

#NightSkyChallenge: Prompt 7 — The night I lost a bet. [“You know what this means, don’t you?”] [6.6k]

— Summary: Joel has no idea why Bill gifts him with the book. Had he rambled about you that much? It seemed impossible—to be fair, but surely there were other things besides your name on his tongue. Besides how much you love your books and care for them. Besides how much he's learned since he met you because of them.

Either way, the book means you lost the bet. Joel cares for very little since Outbreak day, but this—oh, this he took it to heart. You'd lost, and he intended on collecting his prize.

— A/n: Canon-divergence; Reader and Tess met Joel at the same time, and all three became a tight-knit unit. | 🏷️ Tags & warnings⚠️: explicit mature content, minors DNI; age gap, mentions of canon-typical violence, confessions, touch starved, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), slow & deep sex, but also rough sex?, dirty talk, little spoon Joel.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤmasterlist | read on ao3

All he can think about when he sees the bookshelf is your words, even if they were spoken on a whim years ago.

"There's no fucking way you can find a classic in good conditions anymore—not even Joel 'I can find anything' Miller is immune to decay and years of nature taking over. They're all gone, Joel. I just have to accept it. I bet there's not a single one that hasn't been wrecked by either people's ignorance or fucking mold eating every single page."

He remembered those words as clear as the day's first rays of light.

Not because of them, precisely. Because of what came after. He had blurted, "Bet what?" out of sheer instinct, only for you to reply with:

"Anything."

Maybe you were being metaphorical at the time, but Joel took it seriously. He outreached his hand for you to shake. "I'll take that bet."

If he never found a book, nothing would change.

If he won, on the other hand. Well—there's something Joel's been wanting from you for a long, long time.

That's why when he enters Bill's house for the first time, Joel stops dead in his tracks on the corridor leading to the kitchen.

You'd been to the house before with him and Tess.

Just like him, you had stood outside the whole time while Tess and Frank went about their rambles and deals. You, Joel, and Bill were all cut out from the same cloth—death stares etched onto your faces as if you were marble, grumbled conversation that came up here and there between long sips of wine.

Neither you nor Joel had been inside yet.

It's the third time he visits, first one without you, and he sees it—

Bookshelf.

One of Bill's doors is open on the way to the kitchen revealing what used to be an office but now looks more like a symbiosis of an atelier and library. It's — nice, Joel guesses.

It's not his thing.

Books — those are your thing.

Joel has no idea what connects you to the pages, but he knows it runs deeper than just academic pleasure, or snobbiness (an assumption made by many who met you).

It's as if whatever elements existed within paper, inked with words that strung together beautiful stories — it moved you.

Joel was entranced by the way you were able to quote several passages.

Few things remained that were worthy of admiration, or interest. He easily placed your small and precious book collection high above on his list.

That, and your ability to bring those stories to life somehow.

"Are you a reader?" Bill's voice is expected — Joel heard his steps approaching and stopping behind him when he did.

He scanned all the shelves, so he looks back to answer Bill. "Not really. Tess never mentioned who's the little Librarian between us? Our reader's absent today."

"If my, uh... —

If mine... if they brought strangers into our situation... I wouldn't be happy either."

"Oh. Well. They seem to listen to you as well as mine listens to me."

"I hope she feels better soon." Bill says the words and they sound so real. Spoken freely, not through gritted teeth or accompanied by his usual stiff shoulders.

Joel's hands rested on his hips. "Yeah." He hated this part — with Bill and Frank it was harder to not talk about things. He was pretty sure Bill didn't even like him, just like Joel didn't like him that much, but they saw each other. Understood one another. "Yeah, me too."

"The medicine you gave — it helped." That came out through gritted teeth. Joel held back from smiling at the unspoken admission—you sold me real shit. It's saving my partner. Thanks. "Frank's talking about — lavender. Herb garden and all. God."

Joel snickers and they exchange a look. "Good luck with that."

"I'll definitely need it." Bill's hands pat his sides, and Joel recognizes his motion before bolting out of a conversation. "Feel free to look at them," he waves a hand in direction of the shelf before leaving Joel there alone.

He does look.

One by one, Joel checks the titles because if you were here, that's what you'd do, and "when in doubt, always do what you must".

He hated that your words stuck to his brain so easily.

They were sticky like honey, which also resembled your voice. Or maybe that was only the way he heard it — Joel enjoyed listening to you talk.

"When in doubt, always do what you must" came after he left behind some supplies in order to help during a run, and you'd gotten mad at him for the first time.

It was then that Joel noticed how fucking tough you were.

Complete the mission. Help when you can. Do what you must.

If he was here already, he might as well read all the titles. Who knew how long he'd last? If he'd be here again, or if you would?

When his eyes land on Frankenstein, Joel knows he hit the jackpot.

That's when the memory of your bet sparks behind his eyelids, and he's cursed with the way you smiled that day.

Anything.

There was something Joel wanted, badly.

He cut out his own permission to want anything that strayed from finding Tommy again, getting clues to somehow discover a way to find his brother, get him back, but you planted the seed in his subconscious by simply existing — he was powerless to stop it.

One second, you and Tess walked into his life.

The next, he had on one side a best friend who cursed as much as him and on the other a menace who popped into his subconscious state, giving him dreams for the first time in years.

You two brought back a sense of humanity into his day-to-day life.

In return, Joel tried his best to do good for both of you.

Keep you safe however he could. Slip extra ration cards into your stack so you could more.

Small things like that — things that he later realized were only the seeds for the want that blossomed.

Joel wanted you out of the smuggling business.

He wanted you to be safe.

It was fucking ridiculous.

Your hand never missed the trigger timing — if there was anyone around the neighborhoods he lived more skilled in knives than you, he'd eat his own hand, and you were clever.

Quick, sharp, rational.

Despite all of that, he hated the sight of your back whenever a deal had them going outside.

Every time he saw a pistol or any other weapon in your hands, he wanted to throw it away as hard as he could.

And here he was, facing Frankenstein.

Anything.

Fuck. Joel hated how he hesitated.

If it belonged to anyone else, his hands would've already made the book meet the secret parts of his backpack, but he couldn't do this to contacts so good like Frank and Bill.

He couldn't fuck up this one.

Shit.

(Maybe he did like the two men, after all. Just a little.)

Joel has no idea why Bill gifts him the book.

One minute they're sitting alone drinking scotch while Tess and Frank finish up the trade and the next, they're talking about old hobbies they regretted not paying more attention to. Conversing like two normal people. Like Tess and Frank do, only without all the niceness and excitement.

At one point, Bill asks, "Did you see anything you liked?"

It takes a second for Joel to realize he's talking about the room and the shelf. Joel shakes his head. "Wasn't a big fan of readin'." A lie, he thinks. "Even that's a stretch. I — probably should've done it more now that I think about it."

Bill's answer is a hum. "Yeah. Lots of things I wish I should've done. Properly. Piano's one of them."

Joel eyes the item in the room. He recalls you and Tess talking about how Frank was lucky to know an instrument. "Frank's good at it, though?"

"He was rustier when he arrived, but yeah — he's doing good now."

Joel admires that. Some things are probably talent, he figures. "Practice's everything. 's why I feel bad for people whose thing was, like, artsy. Y'know?" He lists you and Frank as examples. "They ain't got means to do what they really love now."

That's when Bill shares that Frank paints. Piano and drawn, painted art — that was nice. Frank probably missed a lot of things.

If what you said was true and artists withered without their art like some plants did without sun or water, then he must be sad nowadays.

The new information sparks up a memory. The abandoned art supply on Canbose with 5th Street — was it possible there were some there?

Joel kept the doubts to himself so as to not spark any hopes of things he'd fail to deliver, but the real surprise is that he and Bill have their first conversation there.

It's a nice one.

Joel loathes that his brain comes up with the knowing looks both you and Tess would give him and Bill if either of you saw the way the two men can converse so easily once the guns are gone.

Bill's — he's okay.

Rough around the edges, sure, but in polished, sturdy ways.

He's also a little box of Pandora.

The last thing Joel could expect was being called aside by Bill before he leaves with Tess, only to find him hiding behind the door waiting for him with a furtive air in his stance, as if there could be any secrets that they'd keep from theirs.

Bill extends the copy of Frankenstein without meeting Joel's eyes. "Here." He all but shoves it into Joel's hands, and then nods. "It's the one you kept touching."

There's no reason to play bargain or pretend this is a gift he's too humble to accept.

He does as he's told, thanks Bill with a long nod, and walks out.

It does beat at his mind on the walk back to the QZ, though—had he rambled about you that much?

It seemed impossible—to be fair, he always managed to keep the conversation away from himself, but surely there were other things besides your name on his tongue. Besides how much you love your books and care for them. Besides how much he's learned since he met you because of them.

Either way, the book means you lost the bet.

Joel cares for very little since Outbreak day, but this—oh, this he took it to heart. You'd lost, and he intended on collecting his prize.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤTWO DAYS LATER

The smell of your apartment envelops him every time.

Everything's open.

You keep plants hung in several places on your wall, and they're all so tall and green. Big, imponent, and your habit of walking through the place and touching one of them, sometimes going as far as plucking a leaf or petal out of them—the air suddenly turned into myrrh, lavender, eucalyptus.

Joel wished he smelled nothing other than here.

"Heard you were feelin' better," Joel says as soon as he has eyes on you.

There's more color on your cheeks. When you smile, Joel sees it reach your eyes even if it remains small in your lips. "Still feel like shit, though."

Tongue sharp as ever, then.

He chuckles and walks in as you move aside in invitation, gaze checking through the apartment as he takes off his shoes.

Joel always pays attention to everything that surrounds you.

While you ask about the trades you missed, he takes note of the spotless state of everything around him. Stainless windows, shiny floor, a sharp citrus scent lingering even around you.

Stress cleaning — check.

"Did you finish the food I gave ya?"

"Of course," you answer. Joel's happy to hear that — you ate very little on the first day you got sick, and he gave you some of his food to make sure you ate.

The two of you take a sit in the kitchen, and as you talk about work, he analyzes you better.

You had your most comfortable clothes on. They came from a box he found not long ago that was your size exactly; the shirt has wet stains on your chest, and your wet hair tells him you felt good enough today for the first time in a while.

Good enough to gather the patience to wash your hair in the sink.

"Don't mind Inoctus, you know he says that shit about the Fireflies all the time. I ain't gonna argue with him again," Joel waves a hand, and then gets to the part he wanted to talk about. "Never mind him, though — did Tess tell you about what Bill and Frank found for us? What Frank fixed?"

"No, not yet."

Excellent. "We've got some good news. Oh — and before I forget. D'you think that art supply on Canbose still has some supplies left?"

"The one that intersects with the 5th?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know. I don't see why it wouldn't have," you shrug your shoulders. "It's close enough to the QZ for it not be completely raided and I don't see who would prioritize stealing art supplies in the middle of everything." It made sense to Joel, and he felt a rare sense of giddiness tingling. "Why?"

He leans back on the chair. "Frank's a painter."

"No way."

Joel grins — you understood him. "Yes, way."

"Fucking hell. Is there anything he doesn't do?"

He laughs. "I know. I felt the same way."

"He plays the piano, he should be obliged by law to stick to that cool thing."

Joel likes it when you're feeling a little petty — the scrunch on your nose is adorable. He wants to pinch it between his fingers, even if he never did. "Anyway..." He shares the other updates about the trip to their house without you, then talks about the people who contacted him — the ones that gave him any trouble are your expertise, and Joel loves the set on your brows when you're listening.

He has no idea how someone who looks so precious can have such a wicked mind.

"She looks so — I don't know. Not this ingenious. Mean. How the fuck does someone who's always hummin' songs under her breath can intimate grown-ass man?"

"You're the only fucker who thinks she looks like an angel, Joel."

"Nah, we both know that's a lie."

"No, you're just delusional. If anyone thinks she looks angelic you better bet they're comparing her to Lucifer."

Was he? Delusional.

Tess always made him feel like he was faced with a Truth Mirror whenever he opened his big mouth around her.

After a couple of hours, you've already cooked some things — with the little help he could offer — for the both of you, taken notes of the people you need to talk to.

Joel realizes that time passes only when you.

Outside of your presence, it's all a snowball. Stale.

"Ah, shit." You get up in a rush.

"What?"

"Almost lost the time for my pills again," you mutter under your breath.

"You really need a watch." From where he sits at your kitchen table he can see your profile — the roll of your eyes. He huffs in disbelief, ignoring the feeling of his mouth tugging in the corners.

After you take your med, you sit on the couch and find his gaze from across the room. "Clean the table for me?"

Joel never says no to you.

Not for lack of want — fucking god must know how many times he's craved saying it, enunciating each letter with gusto. No.

It never came out.

He cleans the table thinking about how much he's delaying it.

The book's inside his duffel bag that remained next to your door all this time, but it weighs on his back somehow.

He did more than just clean the table as he tried pushing down the little mean jabs his mind took at itself.

You can't force her to stay outta business.

She ain't never listened to a soul in her life—who are you to tell her what to do?

Once every while, you would venture into Joel's personal space and place a finger where his brows pinched together. The first time it happened, the effect had been immediate—Joel was so shocked by the act that his whole face relaxed; not his body, though. His body froze, and he had stood there in a perfect portrayal of a statue.

You do that when he sits on the couch.

Your presence is so damn familiar to him that even lost in his own mind, he finds his way through the maze. He sits by your side, leans back, and drops his head on the couch.

When he feels your finger touching his frown, Joel opens his eyes.

"What's bothering you?" Your finger leaves, and he misses it.

Joel turns his head to the side. "Nothin'." He likes the way the color's back to your cheeks. A week on anti-inflammatory meds made you a little gray, and nothing about you was dull.

"You're a shit liar," you say.

He scoffs. "No, I'm not."

"You really are, though," you argue, fighting a smile. "And just so you know, your accent gets thicker the harder you try."

At that, he frowns. "No, it doesn't—" and fuck, he hears it. How the fuck did you notice that? His frown deepens, and you chuckle at him. "You pay attention to the strangest fuckin' things." It's said in the same gruff way he says most things, but there's enough admiration underneath it that you hear it for what it is.

"And thank god for that — it's what's kept me alive. Us alive," you snort, giving yourself the credit you're due for once.

In the end, he blurts it out. "I found it."

"Found what?" you ask, truly confused at the abrupt change.

"Something you told me I couldn't."

"That's... oddly vague," you reply. "I name a lot of things you can't find. You seem to think you have superpowers."

"No powers. Just talent." He shrugs, and gets up to retrieve the book. "What's the one thing you told me there was 'no fucking way' I could find?"

The second it takes for your brain to connect the dots is the time Joel needs to find the copy in his bag.

Joel sees your eyes dropping to it when he turns around. Widening. Freezing that way. Your lips parting only a couple of inches as your jaw slowly drops.

He sits with more satisfaction on your couch than he's sat anywhere in a long time.

The book falls with a soft thud between your bodies.

All the space he puts between you two is replaced by it —

Mary Shelley, Frankenstein.

"You know what this means, don't you?" he asks.

When you look up, Joel's caught off guard.

The moisture in your eyes shines under the light coming from your kitchen. Joel's throat becomes restricted by an invisible force, and his eyes sting in response to the sight.

"What the fuck, Joel?" your hands pick up the book with a reverence that makes his skin tingle. "Where... how —" both times you start, then stop. "My god." He just watches. You turn the book around, eyeing every millimeter. "This is real," you mutter. He's aware you're not even talking to him at this point. "Have you—" you look up at him, and he feels special enough, "have you opened it? Are the pages—it's whole?"

The way you breathe out the word.

A reverence. So sacred.

Joel might as well consider the bet paid if he wasn't so far gone on what he wants.

Kind of.

"It's whole," he confirms.

Joel almost opens up his mouth to make a teasing remark. Ask if you'd like to be left alone with it, maybe. Instead, he lets you examine it to your heart's will, which takes a while.

He's always comfortable in the silence with you.

That's when he started realizing the trouble he was in.

When he came over just to sit at the same table as you. Have dinner in silence while you cleaned your guns. Sometimes, he'd imagine a bottle of scotch would make the two of you end up in whispered conversations under the dim, yellowish lights of your place, but it never happened.

Joel's too much of a coward to let his guard down with you.

He wouldn't be able to do what he did with the others — a sweet release in the dark; an impersonal match of bodies, mingled in sweat and joined in more ways than it should seem possible, but never looking each other in the eye.

You looked him straight into his soul when you spoke to him. Every time.

"This means... you won the bet," you say.

Joel blinks out of his thoughts. "Sure does."

"So." You put the book down gently on your lap, then gaze at him, eyes piercing into his. "What d'you want?"

Tough question. Joel felt the tingle that never left his skin covering him from head to toe. His throat constricts around the words — his body starts to heat up. He shakes his head, and is overwhelmed by how the air seems to charge between you both. He licks his lips, and says.

Like a coward, his eyes fall on Frankenstein before he speaks.

"Can't have what I want." The naked truth. What's the point of lying to you, anyway? You're a shit liar. "So I'll ask for a close second," he adds quickly. Something magnetic pulls at him, and he looks up — a mistake. Fucking mistake—you never looked at him this way. Is that red on your cheeks? "I — uh; I want a voucher. A veto power."

You blink, utterly confused. "What?"

"A veto power over you." It's the closest he could think of on his way here. Some kind of power, since Joel has no right to demand anything from you. "On a decision. I—If you said you're comin' on a mission, for example. I could say 'no. Veto.' and that'd be it. No arguments. I want a veto card over you. Just one."

You stare at him for a few seconds, and Joel can almost see the engines in your brain turning.

Joel sometimes feels you're more than just yourself. The eyes on your head see far beyond what's in front of them, and he feels naked quite often when in front of you.

"Just tell me what you want," you say.

Can't have what I want, he told you. He shakes his head. "Doesn't matter."

"How would you know?"

"I just do," he argues.

"Maybe you're wrong."

"I'm not!" The storm swirls and lifts him from the couch. Joel turns his back to you, overcome by the reality of it all. "I know I'm not. There isn't—what I want is impossible. There's no such thing anymore. It ain't like the books, or finding fucking chocolate or—it ain't. I wanted you safe. How fuckin' stupid is that—" he chokes on air, gasping around the words. "There's no safe anymore." Softer, and lower, it comes out again. "There's no safe."

Most of the time, Joel's control is kept on a tight leash. His hands have a vicious grip around it because if he loosens it, it'll run off.

His hands are shaking now. He should turn back to face you, to see if he's just said too much or fucked it up somehow, but—you get up. He hears the squeaking of the couch and your steps approaching.

Then, as slowly as you approached him when you first met, he feels it:

Your hands slide around his middle. Your palms spread across his back and contour his waist, and you're hugging him—you hug him from behind, and Joel's chest expands with the air that your presence brings.

"Joel." You hug tighter. He can feel your upper body pressed against his back, and his hands come up to rest on top of yours, shaking as they are. He wants to speak up, but you beat him to it. "I thought I was going crazy, Joel."

Crazy? He is going crazy. You're wrapped around him and the world is yet to implode; Joel feels a knot in his throat that wasn't there before. "Why?"

It hits him — the answer.

Before you're able to say it hits him in the chest, because your hands grip him by the ribcages but not with force; all your fingers need to do is apply gentle pressure on him and Joel feels that you want him to move, so he lets you.

You spin him inside your hold, and Joel goes willingly.

When he's turned and facing you, the answer is there, all over your face.

Your hands stay on his back, but your eyes are searching on every inch of his face for any sign, for anything to deter you from what you want to do.

Joel sees it. He is delusional.

"I want the impossible too," you say. It comes out in a soft whisper, and Joel mentally curses all the moments of silence between you two where he felt the air as palpable as you inside his arms right now. When you looked at him, almost through him, and he turned a blind eye to it in fear that it was exactly what he wanted and craved for. "Is it — too much?"

He's incapable of answering.

His hands come up to your face, and he fits his palm on the set of your jar, where his thumb can touch your cheeks.

You melt to the touch, eyes closing along the way.

All those times you two shared a laugh and a look, and the silence hung in the air as your eyes were unable to leave each other — this. It could've been this.

"Tell me to stop and I will," is all he can say before he dives.

Joel meets you underwater.

The same way you're drowning in his hands with all of your weight supported on his body, Joel submerges as his mouth meets your kiss.

It's a waiting game — you were waiting for the moment he'd realize, he thinks.

Joel may be out of touch with reality itself, but some things can pierce through different dimensions.

Raw things never fail to elicit the strongest form of feeling and your desire pulls him under—real, demanding.

Although he remembers being a vocal partner in bed, he has no words or taunting remarks for you—he'd rather kiss.

Your mouth parts so eagerly for him that Joel wants to shut up.

He has you shutting up, moaning in his mouth as his tongue slides on yours. His fingers grip tighter on your hair. Your arms cling to him, then both of them let go to wrap around his shoulders instead, and Joel feels the despair as you climb up higher, as you press your body harder against him.

He understands it. Empathizes, even — he's feeling it on him the same way.

Your desperate, wet kisses rekindle connections long lost in his brain.

Joel remembers the desperate and insane horniness of youth when hormones mix with inexperience and everything feels new and like a raw, open nerve.

This tastes like those moments.

It'd been so long since Joel was touched and your hands start a mapping of his body that start to get him drunk.

It hits him that it's you. He's kissing you, and you're kissing back with so much force that he has no air, there's no air in his lungs—

He pulls back, gasping, and feels your nails digging into his scalp. The moan scratches the back of his throat and Joel only notices his eyes are still closed when your forehead touches his and your breath starts mingling with his.

Opening his eyes is a blessing. And a curse, most likely.

Seeing your mouth swollen and puffy makes him greedy.

Then — "Are you stopping?" you ask. Hoarse voice. Breathless. "I didn't tell you to stop," you add, whining.

Joel picks you up in one motion, and the laughter that bubbles out of your chest reminds him that you're light — you're the ghost that pops up in his dreams shining with the pink hue of sundown and you're the hope of his mornings, the scent of coffee and pages and herbs that make him feel like this earth could still have a sense of home even if he denies that fact, gritting his teeth at the fact the world still goes on.

He pins you against the nearest wall. One without a shelf, or furniture.

With you pressed against the wall, he has better support. He can trace your thighs with his palm, can get his hands underneath your cotton shorts, your blouse.

"Are you trying to kill me?" you ask him. Your head hits the wall behind you, and Joel looks up to see you watching him as he maps you. You visibly swallow when your gazes meet, and Joel wants to say so fucking much, but nothing comes out at first.

All he wants is to make the pink on your lips become permanent.

He wants to rip every item of clothing on you with his hands, and wants to —

"Joel," you lean forward, capturing his lips in a kiss and stealing all the images he had of you pinned on your own wooden floor, cheeks pressed against it as he took you from behind.

When your tongue meets his, Joel feels something snapping.

He growls into the kiss, both of his hands groping your asscheeks as he desperately grinds his hips against your body.

This kiss is even better than the first, even if it kills all of his oxygen faster.

Joel never kissed like this. Not this messy, this wet and sloppy mess of need, and dry humping, and swallowing your moans only to have them be echoed back to you when you grind your hips down in the perfect way—

When he pulls back for air this time, Joel grips your head by the hair, making a fistful at your nape.

"This is not just now, is it?" he asks. His own voice sounds like sandpaper and pure lust, and he's not even beginning.

"No, no," you shake your head. "I need you, Joel."

"Fuckin' hell," he has more to say, but now he needs you naked. "'m gonna take off your clothes. Then I'm gonna eat your pussy 'cause I've thought about it too many fuckin' times." Your jaw falls open at him, and Joel smiles despite himself. "Yeah. You gonna let me, baby? Hm?"

Your only answer is to nod desperately, grinding against him as your eyes close.

Joel's in heaven. "Did I win what I want?" he asks.

"What?"

"My veto," he pulls you away from the wall and starts carrying you to your bedroom. "I still want it. Can't have the impossible but I can have a veto."

You laugh as he kicks your door open. "You want a fucking veto? Joel, all you have to do is hold me by the chin and say 'no' or 'yes' and I'd do it. It's that simple. Always have been. " You grab his face between your hands and pierce him with those All Seeing Eyes. "I'll give you your veto, if that's what you want." You kiss his lips, sighing softly. "'m sorry I can't promise you I'll be safe, but I can promise I'll try."

Joel knows he's about to do something that can't be taken back when he lies you down.

He nods just so you know he understood, but the knot's formed again and if he speaks, Joel will cry — the words wouldn't come out anyway, even if he wants to say them.

Joel's unsure if they haven't been burned out of his tongue.

He takes off your clothes one by one. Ironic for someone who wanted them ripped to pieces not a minute ago, but to have you laid in front of him soothes the desperation somehow.

His plans get interrupted, though, because once you're naked and all of his brain is mushed into nothing but skin skin you you touch touch touch, you stop him from kneeling down at the edge of the bed with a touch and one request, "You too?" your gaze is so open and vulnerable that his hands go to his shirt. "No — lemme. Please."

Joel does, and you do the same to him, taking his clothes off one by one.

When you drop to his knees in front of him, Joel is powerless.

He's too stunned to say or do anything but look.

Even his hands that itch to touch only manage to do so when they're flying for some support so his knees don't buckle and he falls — you grab his cock by the base with one hand, look up until his eyes are locked on yours, and then licks a wet stripe from his balls to the tip.

Then you do it again, and again, until Joel's coated in saliva, and you can suck around the tip, swallowing him down in one go.

He grips your hair for life support, cursing under his breath.

Joel's vocal about how much you're fucking killing him.

You go at it slowly, which is even more torture, but he gets it. He remembers you talking about not being with a person for the longest time. How it made no difference for you to have the physical or not because the attraction wasn't there unless there something underneath it — for someone who's out of practice, you must have the knowledge.

Your tongue runs on the sensitive skin between the dick and his balls, your mouth suctions when it's taking him down and when you start bobbing your head, using your hand to cover the parts your mouth can't reach, Joel has to physically pull you back.

"Stop, stop —" his hand on your hair pulls you back, and Joel curses again when you whine at having to let go. "'m gonna fuck you, baby, it's okay, 's okay," he gets you up by the neck, and is kissing you right after.

That's how he falls in bed with you — with his cock leaking pre-cum, his back already coated in sweat and your mouth tasting like him.

Joel eases the fall with his hand, not wanting to crush you with his weight. He wants to eat you out — Joel wants to bury his face in you, but when he makes a move to go down, your legs clamp around his waist and your head starts shaking.

You pull back from his kiss, "No — later, you can do that later, just — please," you guide your hand between your bodies to hold him and guide his cock to your entrance. "Waited too long, Joel."

I need you, Joel.

"Wait, wait — " it'll be over too fast if he sees you all the time. Joel has an idea. "A position that's better for you first. I wanna see you too, but I want you to feel good. Turn around for me."

"You want me on all fours?"

"No," he shakes his head. "Just turn around."

You obey him, and Joel grabs one of your pillows to push under your waist. You rest your cheek on the one under your head, and he positions himself first before crowding your space with his head on the crook of your neck.

He dips his fingers in first, spreading your wetness all over you before lining up.

It's sinful how good the position is.

He fills you up, bottoming all the way out. Joel's thick, but not too long, and he knows this angle is as good for you as it is for him. "Feels good?" he asks in your ear.

Your only response is his name.

"Is that a yes?" he pulls all the way out, and slams it back in, wanting to feel the drag. Wanting to feel your walls clamping around him. How you open up to accommodate all of him. "'Cause you feel like — fuckin' heaven, baby — louder, say it louder —"

"Feels amazing, Joel," you cry.

He knows it does. Joel hasn't felt anything remotely close to pleasure in a long time, so this might be too much, he might be in danger of growing an addiction, but he's past caring.

He drags it out.

Joel wanted to fuck you senseless a while ago, but now all he wants is to stay buried in the tight and warm haven of your cunt until you're both too spent to move a muscle. "'m gonna stay — all fuckin' night — inside you, baby — hm, whaddaya think?"

"Yes, please—"

"God, I love — that's all you can say to me."

"Don't stop," you cry out louder.

"I won't." He couldn't.

He doesn't want to. He doesn't.

Joel thrusts into you slow, measured and deep, until the heat in his groin is climbing like your nails digging at his sides. He loses count of how many times he sucks on your shoulders, how many bite marks you must have on your neck, of how many single-worded compliments he spills in your ears as he fucks the words out of you.

When you beg to cum, Joel flips you over and hoists your leg higher so he can go in deeper, and he fucks you the way you've been begging him to — crying around his fingers for harder, and faster, Joel, please, please, I'm not gonna break —

He gives it to you like both of you have been dying to receive, and when your legs start shaking around him and his name drops from your lips in a scream, Joel pulls out, coating your stomach in the hot strings of his cum.

He doesn't collapse on top of you, which is a miracle.

He does lay strategically next to you in order to avoid his own mess until he's able to feel his legs again.

Your fingers thread his hair during that time.

The spasms of your legs make him smile, and the little hums that leave you without you even realizing make Joel float on his bliss.

When he comes back to himself, he gets up to get a warm towel. He cleans you both, just enough so sleeping is okay. He pulls up the duvet and puts you underneath it before climbing under as well.

When he lays, Joel expects you to turn around;

Instead, you wrap around him in octopus style, and whisper, "Turn around."

He obeys, and is rewarded by you spooning him.

Joel thinks he might be dreaming.

"Are you gonna be here tomorrow?" you ask after a while.

Your bodies are as tangled as they can be. Your hands caress the hairs on his chest and your breath is on his neck, and still, you are stared he'll leave.

"D'you want scrambled eggs or you prefer the toast?" he replies.

There's a kiss on his neck. Another on his shoulder. He grabs one of your hand to pull it to his lips, and kisses it.

"Scrambled."

"'kay. Where d'you keep your sugar? I can never find it."

"I'll show you tomorrow," you kiss his shoulder, and squeeze his body. "Joel?"

"Yeah, baby?"

He can feel your smile because your lips are on his skin. He's gonna use that more, he thinks. "I might wake up rubbing myself all over you," you whisper.

He laughs. "Fine by me."

🏷️ @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @earthtocharlene — @levylovegood — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @sanzusmile —@yesimwriting — @celestialstar111 💖

⚠️ if anyone being tagged would like to not be, just let me know in my inbox (which you can also use to talk to me about all the appeals of Joel Miller with his hair slicked back, you know... or what you thought of this one.. just saying... <3

#usernexusnyx #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller drabble #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #nightskychallenge #joel miller fanfiction

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luvyunjinxo · 4 months

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merry christmas, nerd. g!pyunjin x fem!reader

~ a/n note: HI GUYSS its been so long since I wrote a fic and as a Christmas present to you guys I came up with this ‼️

CW: not proofread, bully yunjin, blackmailing, humiliation, spanking, lmk if I missed ,, cuz I probably missed a lot:(

December 20th, 2023

UGH. how much you hated huh yunjin. the "it" girl of the school.

you hated her with all your life and she was your enemy ever since you transferred schools. the school was a rich neat looking school, but yet not enough to your liking. neither were the students. you thought everyone was just a snobby rich kid so either way, you avoided everyone. you only had one best friend.

kim chaewon ☺️.

she was the sweetest and purest girl. yes friends with everyone, but you both were THE duo. you weren't the most popular in school but you had hidden beauty. chaewon acknowledged that and immediately came your friend.

anyways, it was around the holidays and yes I guess you could say you and chaewon were a thing. it wasn't serious but yet you two were not friends but not lovers. it was more of a situation ship and you both dont know how you ended up like this.

only ONE person knows about you two.

small hints,, they push you around in the halls & pours water on your head

call you a "whore" even if you haven't lost your virginity and even make you do her homework half of the time.

how did this all happen & how did she find out? it happened when one day you and chaewon were making out in the bathroom out in the open like nobody would even enter. yes you guys were still in a situation at the time but who cares????

huh yunjin walked in, in pure shock. before speaking she snapped a few pictures and shouted.

"YAH I KNEW IT." and you two would have to obey yunjin and do whatever she says, because you know damn well shes using that for blackmail. that just made her want to bully you more.

fast forwarding to present day,, December 23rd, 2023. the tormenting, the bullying and the humiliation you kept up with. you were a strong girl and was not gonna give up easily. tonight was the night of the christmas party for seniors. of course yunjin is gonna be there.

you showed up in your red dress with a bow in front and bow ties in your hair giving 🎀. you looked stunning. you got picked up by chaewon and left the house asap.

I thought everyone were joking about about the amount of people coming to the party, BUT OMG they were wrong. it was way more than the amount they expected and the place was packed.

colorful lights beaming from upstairs toward the crowd, the loud speakers draining all the sounds out, and just everyone having a good time in general. you were usually scared by these things but tonight was your own time to shine.

you purposely started to dance next to yunjin and her friends,, whyd you do this? to prove her wrong. to prove you are strong and shes not all that.

grinding up against chaewon, teasing her, and for some reason yunjin was watching all that. it was what you expected but why is she staring at you with lust? she was dancing as well but started to get lost into you and chaewon.

she walked over to you two and cleared her throat. now all the attention was on her, you, and chaewon. her friends were watching and there seemed to be a small little crowd.

"wtf are you guys even doing you look like dumbasses". she lied. she just wants to get a reaction out of you.

"shut the fuck up and mind your own business. if you dont like what me and chaewon are doing then move else where because honestly im so fucking fed up with your bullshit!." you exclaimed.

and that was the first time you stood up for yourself. never did you ever dare to talk back to her. she was in shock too. you were never like this and that made her mad as fuck.

she was frozen. so was chaewon and everyone else in the crowd.

"shut up, come with me." she finally spoke.

"no ew im not going anywhere with you."

"y/n." she said in a stern voice. in her head she was wondering why were you acting like a brat. she was fed up and angry she did not want to lose it in front of the crowd. that would ruin her whole popularity status in general.

she suddenly walked closer to your ear and whispered

"stop acting like a fucking brat,, come with me or ill show the whole school what you and chaewon were doing in the bathroom." she backed away leaving your neck all tingly from her hot breath on your neck. you simply just nodded with tears in your eyes threatening to fall any second now.

she took your wrist forcefully and dragged you out to the nearest room immediately. chaewon stood there and couldn't do anything because yes, she did not forget about the blackmail and was too scared to go. she wished the best for you and tried not to worry so she danced with her other friends. the crowd completely forgot about the two of you and started partying hard again.

"s-shit yunjin! whats your problem!" she locked the door and practically pushed/threw you onto the bed. she was more mad than ever it felt like you should actually stay quiet.

"get on all fours, dont make me repeat myself and just do it."

"no fuck you."

"why are you being so fucking stubborn y/n!" she shouted and forced you on all fours herself.

"it wasn't that hard and this would go more easy for you if you just listened." she flipped up that thin dress of yours and started to drag her fingers along your hole and cunt. "how would chaewon feel about this hm?~ seeing her current situationship about to get fucked by another girl."

you whined by her words and earned one smack to your ass. she tied your hands up with her belt.

"f-fuck you!" you managed to gasp out.

"you wont be saying that once im done with you. your gonna learn to be put in your fucking place y/n."

you earned ten hits to your ass and your already practically begging. for mercy, and for her to stop. she slid two of her fingers in for one second so you could feel what was coming for you. "please .. hngg~ i want m-more." well you werent saying that a minute ago weren't you? ugh how bad yunjin was turned on by the sight of seeing you this fucked out already. you guys haven't even started and your hair is messed up and tears rolling down your eyes.

"arent you ashamed or embarrassed? your bully is fucking you and your begging for her? suddenly you wanna be touched by me yeah?"

she flipped you over aggressively and started to bite on your earlobe whispering dirty little nothings into your ear. "be a good girl for me tonight and maybe ill let you come." the feeling of her breath fanning your neck again, ugh. leaving trails of kisses along your neck and leaving a few marks,, kinda everywhere. fondling with your breasts as she just kisses every little spot.

she started to eat you out. kitten licks on your clit, teasing it in anyway she could and looked at you while doing it. "eyes on me, dont close your eyes." she continued to circle your bundle of nerves with her tongue as two fingers slid into your wet cunt. "y-yunjin! I c-cant .. ughh.. take i-it" you were a virgin. but you knew about all of this because you read fics by yourself at night and watched explicit things when you felt like it. you were a dirty ass girl and you knew it.

"this is a better side of you isn't it? such an obedient girl,, not being all up on chaewon."

"hngg ..!" all you could groan out. you threw your head back in pleasure and tried to cover your mouth but yunjin didn't tolerate it. it felt like you were being overstimulated. the pleasure going all to your clit felt like so much you started to cry again.

"I c-cant hold it in yunjin."

"you can and you will." she says speeding up her fingers as you threw a pillow on your face and screamed. "fuck I really cant take this!" .

it was all too much for you. her pinching your sensitive tits while finger fucking her. she pulled her fingers out and you whined louder than you ever did before cuz of the loss of pleasure. "relax slut you'll get what you want."

she told you to close your eyes so you couldn't see a single thing and you obeyed. you really didn't open your eyes because you cared for the surprise. you just heard unzipping .. and clothing being tossed around. you felt a tip going into you and .. oh my gosh was this her?

she pushed further in and you waited for it to stop but she put her whole into you. fuck she was so deep into you. "you can open your eyes now." oh what a sight. yunjin was fully undressed with her hair up into a ponytail and her thick ass cock inserted into you.

she slowly started to move and you were already whining. "nggh .. faster yunjin~"

she started to trust into you more aggressively as if she wanted it and was desperate asf. beast mode yunjin?! ..

she gave it all and put all her energy in you.

"y/n what if chaewon saw you like this for me .. mmh .. right now? disappointed r-right?"

"your such a fucking obedient for me and only I can make you feel like this."

she smacked your inner thigh as you both were almost there. she was hitting the right spots that got you weak in the knees literally it was impossible to stop making sounds now.

"chaewon cant make you feel like this cant she? she can never be me."

you cried out to her "g-gonna come!~" and thats what you did without no hesitation or no permission, she was okay with it though. your fluids dripping out of your wet cunt and she was still needing to come,, leaving you to be overstimulated.

"fuck y/n! y-your fucking mine remember that. ugh .. im almost there." she threw her head back and came in you.

you both smiled at each other for once and you were so worn out you couldn't even move,, if you even tried to get up you would collapse.

"merry christmas, nerd." she put on her clothes and left. leaving you soaked in your own mess. you hated her so much ugh. you finally checked your phone and read,,

*63 missed calls from chaewon<3*

from that day on you were yunjins. she made you stay away from chaewon at all times.

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A/N: this was not proofread AND IM SORRY IF THIS CRINGED YOU OUT OR THIS WAS JUST NOT IT. im really hungry please spare me bro 😓✊.

#fypシ #yunjin smut #le sserafim smut #fem reader #wlw smut #le sserafim hard hours #huh yunjin smut #huh yunjin x reader #yunjin x fem reader #huh yunjin imagines #yunjin imagines #yunjin x reader #gxg smut #girl group smut #huh yunjin #le sserafim #smut #lesbian #kpop smut

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everestica · 1 year

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Alhaitham’s Voice Lines about you<3 (As somebody who is a performer, before they sages were taken down!)

Chat: Lover

- “What did you have to interrupt me so obnoxiously for? Oh [Name].. Yes, well I guess you could say were close they are my partner after all, but still I would still like if you didn’t mention out here, next time you wanna talk about them take me somewhere more private so that the Akademiya dosen’t hear..

Weather: When It Snows

- It’s snowing..? Well it doesn’t bother me much, but normally [name] gets pretty cold.. Huh? Do I have anything for you.? I mean not really, normally [Name] just takes one of my jackets from the closet..

Alhaitham’s Troubles: ||

- “hmm? I seem.. upset? I wonder why you would think that, I’m quite alright. [Name].. Where are they..? Well *ahem* their not here at the moment.. They had to travel to Gandharva Ville to help Tighnari with something. Am I upset about that? Of course not.. They had their own life as well.. *whispers* but I do wish they were spending there life with me..

About [Name]:

- “You want to know about how me and [Name] met.? Well it’s a long story so I don’t think- Oh you don’t care about how long it is? Very well then, [Name] actually happens to be a performer who performs with Nilou in the Grand Bazaar, the only reason that I met them a while ago was because the akidemiya was supposed to deliver something to them saying that they would have to stop because it was against the Akademiya. I decided that I would instead take the note to them but as I walked in Nilou was standing there and I gave the note to her, but out of no where a figure was walking down from the high stage and their they were, the most beautiful person I had ever seen, [Name], and that’s the story. Huh? I’m being to sappy? No, that’s just the truth.

Others Voice Lines about you:

Nilou - About [Name]

- [Name]? Oh of course I know them! We practice together all the time, I was actually one of the reasons that Alhaitham and [Name] actually met! It was an accident but it needed up turning out super cute! Their like my favorite ship ever!

Cyno - About [Name]

- Alhaitham has a lover..? He’s so stubborn though, who would ever wanna be around him for more then like 5 minutes? [Name]? Oh well I guess that makes a little bit more sense they were always really nice and were one of the only people who could get along with that snobby scribe..

Kaveh - About [Name]

- [Name]? I’ve course I’ve met them! They are Alhaitham’s lover after all! He brought them back to the house one day and that was the first time I had met them actually, I had seen them around the town and performing in the Grand Bazaar before but I never had the chance to actually talk to them. It was a little weird at first a scribe and a performer? I thought was against the Akademiya, but whatever he has looked a lot happier ever since [Name] came into the picture, and a lot less rude to me! So that’s a win-win in my book!

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #al haitham x reader

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thegreatstoryteller · 10 months

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Body Swap N’B

Welcome to Body Swan N’B! The premiere destination for all your body swap needs! We all know traveling can be hard. Booking flights, booking travel, and most importantly those outrageous prices. Don’t worry. We’re here with the solution! Why go to those snobby body swap hotels, when you can swap from the comfort of your own living room right into the amazing destination of our choice. Our list of thousands of home owners want YOU to take their body out for a spin from the comfort of THEIR own home.

Choose between a collection of countless locations and individuals of your choosing. Want to cruise in the Caribbean as a local? Want to sample authentic Parisian cuisine as a refined food connoisseur? How about ride the Texan planes as a real cowboy!? All of that is possible and more with Body Swap N’B! Don’t believe us? Just listen to our satisfied customers

Reviews:

DisneyDad85: 2 out of 5 stars.

My family and I were planning a trip to Disney and I wanted to find somewhere close to the park. The location was just as promised, a 3 bedroom with a great view. The bodies were not what I expected. I assumed when the listing described a “great way to enjoy the best parts of youth” that we’d be given some family friendly bodies. Not some local young men who were rooming together. I guess “young” is relative as my eldest boy found himself in the most mature body. Being slightly overweight was new for him as he was always so nerdy and skinny. And as always, on his phone talking to his friends bragging about his new body.

He loves being the oldest and eating whatever he wants without worry of food allergy. I told him that he wouldn’t like it if he had to worry about all that weight he’s putting on his new body later, but he doesn’t listen.

Then there was my youngest! He loved the vintage aesthetic to the rooms we were given and he couldn’t stop playing with the phones there.

He was certainly happy that he was tall enough to ride all the rides at the park, but I did not like how he was now able to consume all the alcohol at the various bars around the area. But being 6′7 and confident, it’s no like anyone would think to card him. Meanwhile I was now the only one of our party not old enough to drink only being 20 years old! Gosh… maybe I shouldn’t have snuck into that bar on the final day of the trip. I can’t believe I drunkenly renewed our vacation for next year! Still trying to contact customer support to discuss cancellation!

Overall good vacation, but just make sure you inquire about the bodies before making a big trip. I still feel just like the reckless 20 year old I was a few days ago. Almost like I’m still on vacation… maybe another trip will do us some good in the near future.

AlwysABridesMaid: 3.5 out of 5 stars

So I like to imagine myself being very open minded when it comes to these swaps and vacations! I’ve tried out loads of these vacations with my girlfriends and I when we did sorority parties in college! However, I’ve got to say this is the first time me AND my entire party ended up as ALL guys. Normally it wouldn’t be an issue as we love exploring new experiences and locations, but I don’t think my best friend the bride envisioned being surrounded by a bunch of hairy men during her wedding ceremony. That’s right every single one of her bridesmaids were now half a foot taller and a lot more manly than she expected. I’m mostly mad that I couldn’t fit into our tailor made dress. That being said, the wedding still went off without a hitch! We had so much fun doing spa days, bachelorette parties, and the actual day of wedding in our new bodies despite the small hiccup.

Would I do this again? Definitely given a heads up about the party. But now that I’m intimately aware of some new male physiology I’d definitely like to try it again. The best man certainly wants to do some more exploration with me after last night. Anyway, has anyone ever heard of the so called “side effects” people keep referring to? The bridesmaids and I all found ourselves inside these book smart engineers and now I feel like my IQ is through the roof. All the girls and I can do at the nail salon is just gab about research papers, new theorems, and the latest technological marvels making the news!

WifeGuy88: 1 out of 5 stars

I swear I’m a feminist. Gotta get that out there before I say that I’m not sure my wife and I should do another of these trips. I heard that there used to be lots of safety procedures when it came to these swaps, but I recently heard that unlike Swap Hotels, they do not have to cover any kinds of safety or ethical costs associated with normal swapping.

I’m getting ahead of myself. The reason I’m not jazzed about Body Swap N’ B is because… I was a bit jealous my wife was bigger than me…. I know we booked a room for a loving couple…. But I didn’t expect both pairs of that couple to be male. Being a former college athlete and finding myself in a 5 foot nothing twink was a big enough shock.

But when my wife came stomping in from the other room as a big mass of hair and muscle… well let’s just say that weekend went very differently than I imagined… It all feels like such a blur…. And my ass is still sore…

But no! I’m leaving this as a warning. There are reviews saying your mind thinks differently after the swaps and that some people are claiming they are stuck in those bodies longer than they like! Also my girlfiend signed us up for another trip and due to their zero cancellation policy I know we’re gonna be there sooner than later if things go their way! Not that I mind…. I rather liked being thrown around by a larger man for a change… I’m sure it’s gonna be a lot of fun… but that doesn’t take away from the fact that this company can’t keep getting away with this. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my wife some new male outfits that she wants to try for our next vacation.

BenTheOrganizer: 5 out of 5 stars

Great for family reunions!

Normally I was the one that plans all these big family events. Criticism here and there about this location being too hot, too cold, or too far. But hey! Finally got a family gathering we can get behind! Who would’ve thought that it was when my entire family were in the body of one of the biggest college fraternities in the state! Turns out aunt Marjorie doesn’t have time to comment on my lack of partner when she’s doing a keg stand while uncle Larry cheers her on. Turns out cousin Jeremiah can’t brag about making partner as his law firm when he can finally cut loose dancing to some music! Racist grandpa Marvin won’t be making any problematic remarks about minorities when he’s enjoying his big black body so much. And the younger second cousins aren’t nearly as annoying when you can share some beers with them while we all test out our new muscles in the frat’s personal gym.

My parents were surprisingly the most into the idea. My mom and dad are some of the most heteronormative couples I know but it wasn’t 5 minutes before someone found them making out the frat house locker room. They kept saying it wasn’t gay if it was two bros, but I don’t think any amount of “No Homo” could save face there. Especially when they were caught a few hours later doing the same thing.

As for me… well maybe I put myself into the hottest guy there, the frat president, on purpose when I filled in the special requests portion. But hey. I think I deserve it for a job well done. In fact as I’m writing this review I’m still in his body! After all thanks to the “Extend your Stay” option, we were able to extend our swap vacation for another 2 weeks. Maybe if this continues going so well I can talk to the company about having us keep these bodies. I don’t think my entire family can go back to their old lives when they are loving being loud, raucous, muscle heads every day of the week. Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got another frat party to plan. Thanks Body Swap N’ B!

Body Swap And Breakfast is not liable for any lasting physical, mental or reality changes. Any long lasting development of new abilities or attributes that is shared with a previous swapped body please contact your doctor. Body Swap And Breakfast is not affiliated with Swap Hotel and its affiliates.

Book your Body Swap N’ B vacation with us today!

#thegreatstoryteller #body swap #BodySwapN'B #gender change #female to male #mental change #race change #racial change

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richeeduvie · 15 days

Note

As much as I love pathetic puppy dog Roman, I need some content about him flexing his wealth a bit, like maybe offering to buy Baby something extravagant during a vacation. Or a situation where the store staff don’t know who he is and are unnecessarily snobby and he just destroys them completely by threatening to buy not only the store but the entire chain or malls or something haha.

Something's thrown at you, and someone's plopping down dramatically on the bed beside you.

"What's this?"

"Can you guess? Have fun. Guess."

"...Is it something I saw?"

Roman's brow comes down, face and mouth twisted - as if you've just put gum in his hair.

"You're no fun. You couldn't have guessed like you're stupid? Stupid."

You squeal and take your knees to your stomach as you unwrap the box.

"This a beautiful box."

He puts his head over his hand, elbow bent on the tall nightstand.

“Who fucking cares about the box?”

“It was a comment and compliment on your effort-“

You can’t finish your defense when your set your eyes on a bag.

“It’s a bit showy. But I indulge your shitty tastes.”

Roman stands, rubbing his hands and looking stupidly casual as if he didn’t just gift you a Himalayas Birkin Bag.

You’re holding the price of someone’s house. You’re used to money - to the point where you don’t think about it. But this is someone’s house.

And Roman bought it for you because you said it looked nice.

“Come on, let’s go. I want you to rub one out on me at the beach.”

He puts on his sunglasses and keeps his palms pressing on the sides of his back.

“You’ll have a panic attack the minute someone goes by.”

Roman waves one hand over to you, a way of throwing your comment back to you. A fuck you.

“I’ve given you a gift and I plan on eating your clit off cause I kinda had a dream about it and you shit on me? Give me your bag.”

“It’s a beautiful bag, Roman.”

“I know. You said that, Ah durr.”

Why do you think I bought it?

“Thank you.”

“…Yeah. Whatever, it’s a shitty looking back. It’s like a white wall in a quite cottage with piss on its sides. But obviously,” Roman gestures to himself. Dramatically. “I indulge your shitty tastes.”

And his makes kissy lips. Not an invitation, but it’s him asking.

You peck him, then his neck.

“I’m taking this as a challenge. You’re rubbing me at the beach.”

“Want me to show off the bag?”

Roman turns. He looks at you like you’re stupid.

“…Yeah? Whatever.”

“I’ll show it off just for you.”

“Do whatever you want.”

Roman’s still got a stern, childish face when you kiss him again, but he’s glad that’s what you want. It’s nothing, it’s just a bag. He can buy fucking everything. You know that.

You should be a participant in the way he can buy the world for you. Or whatever.

#inbox #hc's #drabble #dog and bone!au #roman roy x reader #succession fanfiction #roman roy imagine #roman roy fic #succession fanfic

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totallynotlx · 7 months

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Playing House in the Ruins of Us

You never really had control over your life from the very beginning. You are but a pawn to your clan—a means to expand your family's power. Your marriage to some noble was inevitable, set before you could walk. Meanwhile, in comes Gojo Satoru. A snobby little future head of the Gojo clan, the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the world. A womanizer. Unserious. And yet, he cannot let you go, a girl who never really had any control of her destiny. You envied each other as you represented something that each couldn't have, yet he is the only escape from your cruel world… but in exchange for your sanity.

Aka, Gojo learns to mellow down… but he is not going down with a fight. And neither are you. Why would you fall in love with such a self-centered (but gorgeous) man?

Notes: Canon-divergent. Gojo adopts Tsumiki and Megumi when they're a bit older. Some events also happen a bit later on in the timeline.

A/N: Bruh, this is such a fever dream. It's been a while since I've written anything, so pardon me if I'm rusty. I blame this lanky ass white-haired little meow meow for bringing me back from the dead. We came up with the whole story in two sittings… So yeah, we know how this goes, and we planned to make it hurt. We are just your typical hurt/comfort enjoyers uwu

Tags: Arranged Marriage (Reader to someone else), Eventual Smut, Smut, Drinking Games, One Night Stands, Masturbation, Porn Video (oop), Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Words: 13.3k

Ao3 link if you prefer

✦﹒chapter 1: encounters over drinks﹒✶﹒﹒

A glass clinks. A nearby clock ticks endlessly. The music is booming, but he can barely hear it with how he's feeling. He takes a swig from the amber drink from his glass, sunglasses hanging low on his nose bridge, not hiding the prettiest snow-white lashes. One of the few reasons he earned a couple of stares from people around the nightclub. Except for the neon lights flashing every couple of seconds, there is no reason why a person would need sunglasses in a dark place like this… Well, an average person anyway… and he is anything but. Pristine albino white hair dangled freely on his forehead, hiding the most luminous cerulean blue eyes one will ever see. He is incredibly tall. His feet reached the floor despite the tall bar stool he was sitting on. Eye candy is an understatement to describe him. Girls would ogle from across the room, daring each other to try and talk to this man who seemed out of place. He looked almost too elegant for a nightclub. One particular girl started to make her way toward him. Her strides are confident, hair swishing with each step she took in her high heels. Unbeknownst to her, he was painfully aware of her approach, a smirk already forming on his lips. The girl sat down to his right and was about to order her drink when he called the bartender instead.

"Make her whatever she wants. My treat." The voice was almost melodic. The girl internally noted a tinge of playfulness and boyish charm dripping from his voice. "Ah, where are my manners? I’m Gojo, Gojo Satoru.” He extends his hand. "Nice to meet you."

Sleep slowly escaped from his grasp. Blue eyes slowly take in the early morning rays of the sun. The room was unfamiliar but neat, and Gojo slowly took in his surroundings. He could feel the slow breathing of the person beside him and remembered the heavy breaths and sweaty bodies giving in to pleasure and passion.

Right. That happened.

He sat up, scanning the room for his clothes. They were all over the place. Guess he had a fun night. A smirk creeps up on his lips as he slowly gets off the bed, careful not to wake up the person beside him. He slowly picks up his clothes on the floor and puts on his pants, brushing his hair away from his eyes. He picks up his sunglasses and puts them in his pockets before leaving the room. He heads to the kitchen and grabs and sips a glass of water before getting another drink and returning to the bedroom. He sets the glass on the bedside table before putting his shirt on, not bothering to leave a note before teleporting away.

In the blink of an eye, his surroundings changed as naturally as one would breathe—perks of someone with complete mastery of their technique. The penthouse apartment he owned was mainly empty except for the minimalistic pieces of furniture. Gojo Satoru wasn't the type to decorate as he didn't spend much time in this house, traveling all over Japan, sometimes even overseas, but he kept his place tidy. He drops his sunglasses on his kitchen counter and heads to the shower.

He turns the showerhead on, letting his hair get soaked as he stares at his feet. Another night, another woman. It's always the same old song and dance. Who wouldn't? In his experience, no other person has been able to resist him. A smile, a suggestive head tilt, a flirtatious conversation, and they'd be head over heels. It was too damn easy.

He continued to prepare for his day. Despite being a bit hungover, he still has responsibilities to the jujutsu world that he cannot escape from, and his day has barely started.

A loud ringing stirs your peaceful sleep, and you open your eyes just as the sun's rays pierce through the gaps in your curtains. Even the little light filtering into your room makes your eyes hurt as an aftermath of your all-nighter. Studying and practicing the law wasn't something you wanted to do, but you're already in too deep to back the fuck out. It's the weekend after your exams, and you wonder why the hell your alarm was ringing… or was that even an alarm? You drowsily fish your phone from your bedside table and realize it's not an alarm but a call.

Shit.

In the next hour or so, you try to make yourself as presentable as possible. Scouring your wardrobe for one of your formal kimonos, you tie your hair in a neat bun before heading down from your apartment. As told by your mother over the phone, your family has sent one of the family cars to fetch you. When he spotted you, the driver headed out to open the door for you. You silently got in the car, and it wasn't long before the engine started.

You were heading back to your clan's ancestral home for a discussion. A discussion you would rather not have: your marriage arrangements. Your marriage to another powerful clan's son was already set in stone when you were born. Everyone in the family was abuzz with excitement the moment you turned eighteen. Not just because it was your turning of age but because you can finally be a pawn to your clan's motives to become a more powerful, prominent clan in Japan. You scoff at the idea. If not for their offering you freedom in exchange for your obedience, you would have left long ago. Despite taking your choices for a longtime partner, they let you choose your profession. They allowed you out of the house and gave you your apartment. A small price to pay if you are being honest…

You reached the compound gates, greeted by the same old trees and rows of houses you knew growing up. As you approach the main house, you steel your nerves, looking into your phone one final time to ensure you are "perfect" before the car stops and the driver opens the door for you. You put on the bravest face as you step out of the car and into the house, taking a deep breath as you do so.

You've met your fiancé before but have yet to like him. And whenever you two were to spend time together, you both found new ways to disagree. To say that you never got along was an understatement… and to think you are resigning yourself to this fate. You two were to join families, produce children to carry on your families' bloodline, and stay together for better or worse. God, you both hated each other for no reason other than that the other represented each other's misery.

The discussion took forever, and the sun was already setting when you exited the house— as much as you were relieved it was over, the clan head's decision rang in your head loud and clear: Next spring, they said. When flowers are in bloom, they said. It'll be a beautiful wedding, they said. Neither you nor your future husband utters a word or opinion. Never looked at each other, just plastering fake smiles and nodding in agreement with whatever they recommended. You sigh as you enter your apartment, putting your slippers neatly on the genkan. You headed straight to your bedroom, eager to get out of your kimono as if it was contaminated. It was the weekend, and you're sure as hell not letting some shitty ass marriage discussion ruin your mood. You worked your ass off during the week on your studies, and it was finally time to unwind. Yes, tonight you needed release. A little bit of freedom. A little bit of control over your decisions.

In a couple of hours, you walked up to the bar of your favorite exclusive nightclub. You had no intention or plans to be there, but what transpired earlier that day warranted a night out instead of a night wallowing in your misery and sleeping it off. You ordered your favorite drink, a lemon sour, and after downing a glass or two, you danced with anyone and everyone in your vicinity.

Gojo Satoru had also seemingly found himself here. He'd made himself a little non-sorcerer friend after saving him from the malice of a curse. This guy had no way of thanking Gojo other than getting him into this club. As to how this man had exclusive rights to invite guests to said club, Gojo had yet to learn. Very peculiar, honestly. So he went. He went to drink his night away. He went to find his next delectable prey. And fate moved you to each other just as the moon pushed water to land.

After dancing for maybe an hour or so, you wanted another drink, and that was when you noticed him. This white-haired man, seemingly, gets beer as any other average person. In comparison, you get another lemon sour. You stood beside each other respectfully, waiting for your drink, when he looked at you. He hadn't entirely decided who he would devour next, but a salacious smile spread on his face when he saw you. If he only knew that he, too, was nothing but prey that night.

When you approached the bar, you noticed him immediately. And you knew you weren't the only one. It had taken every nerve in your body not to stare at this white-haired man, who stood out slightly more than the other men in the club. I mean, with that hair and those tinted glasses, who wouldn't notice him? But you'd instead break your wrist before being caught ogling him.

He slowly leaned towards you, "Such a sour drink for such a sweet-looking girl," he bent down to your ear. You shivered. His sensuous and breathy voice had you licking your lips. God, his voice is delectable. You steal a glance at this man. And you catch a hint of blue behind the glasses that sat low on his nose. Pretty, you thought, and it took everything in you to steel your nerves and discreetly clear your throat.

"You're one to talk. Your words don't match your eyes." You tell him, earning yourself a chuckle, and you're convinced that this man is blessed by the gods.

"Why? Pray tell what you think they are telling you, hm?"

"Your words are flirtatious, sweet even, but your eyes... It looks like you're already undressing me with them." You raise an eyebrow. A challenge.

Snarky, gotta love that, Gojo thought. He likes a good challenge… especially if it's worth it. And you look like you are… and if there's one thing that doesn't lie, it's his Six Eyes.

"What if I am?" He smirks, and you feel the wind knocked out of your lungs, and you can't help the heat that travels to your face. How did one sentence affect you so much? You thought you were both hunters looking for prey, but with one look, he has you feeling like you are nothing but an easy target. You swallow the lump in your throat.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Cat got your tongue?" He smirks at you before you blink the confusion out of your eyes. You immediately grab your drink and down it, hoping to give you some of your boldness back. He laughs as you down your glass and orders another. "Whoa, slow down there, hotshot."

You raise an eyebrow at him, the gears in your brain turning your mind-to-mouth filter off. "Those won't be the words coming out of your mouth tonight." You smirk.

At the moment, you wish you could have captured it. The way his eyes widened and darkened with arousal. Satoru didn't expect the spark he noticed in you was not just an ember but a full-on flame.

"Oh? Is that a promise?" He leans in closer, his face inches from yours, and you can smell his cologne.

"Hm. Maybe." You answer as your next drink arrives.

"Y'know, I never got your name." He whispers to your ear as you stare at your glass, trying to distract yourself more than anything. You slowly turn to him, meeting his eyes. Even in the dark, you can notice how luminous they are.

"Dance with me, and maybe I'll let you know."

You didn't have to say anything before he downs his beer and takes your hand towards the dance floor. The music comes and goes, and so did the both of you. You and this mysterious, handsome man alternate between dancing and drinking the night away. As time goes on, you get more and more drunk. The next thing you know, you were stumbling to the nearest hotel with him. The next couple of hours were a blur. All you know is the heat that trailed after his touches. The passionate kisses that were borderline bites all over your body. This man was unlike any other you've ever shared a night of passion with. He not only had the stamina, but he made sure that you felt every ounce of pleasure he was feeling. He was nothing short of amazing.

The morning creeps up too soon for your liking. The bed felt strange, and an unfamiliar warmth emanated from beside you. You rub your eyes with your hand when you hear a light snoring beside you. You struggle to open your eyes and can only guess you only have a few hours of sleep. When you finally open them, you see the man beside you. His face was peaceful, his breathing steady. Due to the dim lights, you couldn't notice it the night before, but he has the prettiest and longest lashes you've ever seen. So, it does match his hair… You thought like you haven't seen his—

He stirs. He reaches out to you and pulls you close, which catches you off guard. That's also when you realize that you two were skin-to-skin. It wasn't new, but sleeping beside such a gorgeous being made you conscious of yourself more than usual. You stay still for a few seconds until you feel him relax again. Exhaling a breath you didn't know you were holding, you unwrap his arm around you. You get out from under the covers and try to leave the bed quietly, picking up your clothes scattered around the room. There was a visible limp in your step. God, that man had you writhing under the palm of his hand all night, and it shows. Slowly, you tried to put your clothes back on, making yourself as presentable as possible. You turn to the en suite bathroom to wash your face and fix your hair. Walking was still uncomfortable but tolerable, and you gave the sleeping man in the bed an almost offensive side-eye.

"Fucking bastard with endless stamina." You curse under your breath with a shake of your head. You would be lying to yourself if you were to deny that last night was similar to an out-of-body experience. I'll outdo him next time, you thought, as a defeated laugh escaped you. The thought was wishful thinking as the chances of meeting this man are slim, and you probably won't meet him again. You walk and reach towards the door, opening it as quietly as you can before closing it behind you.

One ring.

Two rings.

Then another.

Gojo grumbles as the sound rouses him from his deep sleep. He stretched an arm to the other side of the bed, seeking warmth, but it was cold. Forcing his eyes open, he looked around the room but found no sign of his alluring companion.

Another ring brings him out of his reverie, and he sighs. He kicks the covers and hops out of bed, looking for his pants where his phone buzzed. He rummages through his pockets for the damned thing and sees Principal Yaga's name on the caller ID. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he presses the answer button.

"Gojo speaking~." He says in a tone that will most likely annoy the older man.

"Satoru, where the hell are you?! You're late to the meeting. AGAIN. " His former sensei admonishes.

"Yes, yes, I know." Gojo scratches the back of his head sheepishly. "Gimme thirty minutes, and I'll be there." Yaga begins to argue about his attitude, but Gojo quickly ends that call. He drops his phone on the bed and sighs again.

Well, that's new. Gojo thinks to himself. That was the first time that he overslept on a one-night stand. Usually, he's the one who leaves the other person first. This was a first, even for him. He didn't want to admit it, but he slept comfortably beside that woman. He wonders internally if he'll ever find her again, but he doesn't dwell on it. The strongest doesn't dwell on the minuscule things... lest it leads to... other things. His musing is cut short as his phone buzzes. Another message from Principal Yaga.

I didn’t even get her name. He thinks, disappointedly, before he finally starts preparing for the meeting he was already late for.

The week after that felt familiar, other than the uncomfortable fact that you could still feel the consequences of your weekend escapades. Working on your studies that Monday felt like it took ages. Sure, the long hours kept you preoccupied, but you would be lying if your mind didn't wander to that gorgeous stranger you had a fun night with. It's a shame you couldn't get his name, but oh well. With your marriage arrangements finally official, meeting someone wouldn’t change a thing.

Another few weeks pass, another week of savoring the last year of your freedom before you get sold off to your fiance. By the following year, your whole life would be shifting. And that idea irks you. Your independence is closer to a sham, but at least it allows you to do whatever you want. You're guessing that after the wedding, both clans would demand that you two do your responsibilities of continuing the bloodline. You don't even love the man you're going to get married to! And they expect children from that?

I need a drink. You thought, massaging your temples as you looked over the school papers you were working on.

8:00 PM, the digital clock reads on your screen. It was still pretty early, but you felt the fatigue deep in your bones. God, you felt so tired. You stretch your back and briefly lean back on your chair before closing your eyes.

You don't remember how it happened, but you somehow ended up in your bed. In your exhaustion, you may have just crawled to your mattress. You were comfortable enough, but you could audibly hear someone else in the room with you. Blinking the sleep from your eyes, you realize two things. One, your wrists are bound above your head, secured by one large hand. And two, soft lips and warm hands trailing your upper body.

"What the—"

"Shhh..." He murmurs before kissing your neck. It took your eyes a couple of seconds to adjust to the dark before you could recognize the familiar white hair.

"How—? A-Ah, how did you find me?" You manage to ask as you feel his hand travel from your side to cup one of your breasts, and you tremble at the touch, just like that night. "I didn't even give you my name—"

"Mmm..." He hums, lips sucking at your skin. You were sure it'd leave a mark. "Call it luck, but I just had to find you."

At this point, his thumb started to brush over your hardened nipple, and you let out a gasp. "Ah! Wait—"

"Such pretty noises." He comments before his lips meet yours. His hand that was massaging your nipple, now ghosted over your skin as it traveled down your body, back arching toward his caresses unconsciously.

Apart from his touches, your brain is going haywire trying to understand how this nameless man had found you. You struggle to push his advances back as you lay down helpless. His kisses lingered, and everywhere he touched ignited a fire within you. He left you panting, wanting.

"Aww. Look at you... You're already a mess, baby. And I've barely done anything." He gives you a smirk as he lets go of your wrists. His large hands grab you by the hips, and he pulls you to him.

You squirm but don't retaliate anymore. The man before you groans at your unintended movement, and he uses it to his advantage. He rubs his erection against you, and you moan.

"Yeah? Tell me. Let me know how much you want me. Show me how much you missed me."

You wake with a jolt, almost falling from your chair. Your cheeks flushed, and you felt hot all over as your heart pounded in your chest. One sentence rang in your head as you tried to steady your breathing, "What the fuck was that?"

Gojo lounges in his office lazily. His mission was shorter than expected, the curse being a tad weaker than he thought it'd be, making him available for the rest of the day. He opens his phone and looks at the time. It was almost nighttime, and surprisingly, his schedule was free. Well, he had been taking more jobs recently to let off steam and due to this it was recommended (forced) that he take a break. On his way home, his mind wandered back to that night. He remembers how her hair was sprawled on the pillow, how loud her moans were, even the sting of her nails digging crescent moons on his back as she pulled him closer, deeper .

He didn’t want to admit it, but she was the first one who kept up with him all night, and the fact that she was the first one to leave the hotel was remarkable. Especially after all he put her through. He could have kept going in the morning but knew he shouldn't because of the way she was heaving and quivering by the end of the night. God, she was gorgeous, though. She looked so good as sweat dripped down her body, and how she responded to his body was heavenly.

He shakes his head lightly as he pockets his phone after changing. He rummages through the drawers of his room, looking for one of his casual sunglasses. He didn’t need to look at himself in the mirror to know he looked good. Instead he walked past it and the empty wall behind it. It wasn’t always empty. There used to be pictures and decorations but that was another time. He’s no longer that person anymore. He leaves the room without a second glance.

"Well, whatever." Shrugging, he begins walking out of his apartment and towards the nightclub where he met you. He then swaps his blindfold for his glasses, ruffling his hair down before he teleports away.

When Gojo arrived, there were a fair amount of people—groups of people on the dance floor, a series of bodies intertwining. Some are on the lounges, drinking, talking, or making out. He notices a free spot by the bar but not one sign of the familiar face he hoped to see. Sure, he could have easily tracked you down using his family connections, but the strongest jujutsu sorcerer doesn't chase after women; women would beg to crawl into his bed every time.

He takes one of the barstools and sits. He doesn't drink alcohol often, so he orders his usual beer. It doesn't take long before his order arrives, and he takes a tentative sip before scanning the crowd again. Still, no sign of her.

Well, it doesn't matter if she's not here. There's always another. And Gojo was right. Not long after, a woman begins to walk towards him. He didn't need to, but he lowered his glasses down his nose to "take a good look" at her. He gave her a tilt of his head, and the way she smiled at him was all the sign he needed. It was always way too easy.

The case that you studied today dragged on longer than you liked. It was a difficult one that you had to pull unexpected extra hours of research, and you were rushing home to be able to change for your usual nightly shenanigans. Decided to go to a more casual bar this time as you didn't really have time to doll yourself up much, and seeing as to how stressed you are about your studies, you just wanted to let off some steam. You get out of your clothes as soon as possible, shower, put on one of your casual dresses from your closet, and bolt out of the house. As much as you didn't like yourself turning into an alcoholic, with your situation? Sometimes, a drink is all that makes you forget.

Even though it's the weekend, only a couple groups of people are in the bar. A few played tabletop games, and a couple sat on the lounges and listened to the live band. The atmosphere was just what you needed after a hard day's work. You approach the bar with plans to drink the night away.

Gojo saunters towards the bar a couple minutes after you. He surprisingly had the weekend off again. Apparently, he didn't notice that he was going on a rampage against the curses all over the city. A blessing and a curse, as per Principal Yaga. As much as he appreciates it, he doesn't want Gojo to overwork himself. He already upholds most of the jujutsu society, so he had him take the weekend off.

It was just an impulsive decision to come here. Gojo doesn't drink that often, and after last time's failed attempt to find that woman, he wasn't hopeful. He sighs as he enters the bar, eyes downcast, and he plans to stay here for a couple hours before switching to his usual nightclub. Music was already playing over the speakers, and he could hear a group cheering over some games; that's when he looked up and spotted a familiar silhouette by the bar. Any other person would doubt their eyes due to the dim lights, but unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how one looks at it), he was blessed with keen eyes in his case. His strides become more confident as he approaches the bar. He sits beside you, seeing the same drink you had the first time you met.

"Why's a sweet girl drinking such a sour drink?" Your head turns almost immediately to the familiar question. "Yo~!" He gives you a playful wave of a hand and a wink as he gains your attention. "Mister, give me a beer and another of whatever she’s having." He says before turning to you. "My treat."

You raise an eyebrow at the man before you. It's him again. "Well, if it's on your tab, I'll get some wine instead." You smirk at him.

"I see we're feeling fancy tonight," a devilish smile on his lips, "Mister! Scratch my first order. Give me a bottle of your finest wine." He remarks as he grabs the bottle and two glasses the bartender slides towards him. "Why don't we take this to a table instead? Care to join me?"

"As long as you keep supplying the alcohol," you laugh as you follow his lead.

Gojo leads you to one of the empty tables and kicks the chair instead of pulling it for you since both of his hands are occupied. You shake your head at the gesture but appreciate it anyway. He pours you a drink setting the wind down, and you mutter thanks under your breath.

You grab the bottle and pour him a glass, as well. "So, what brought you here tonight?" He asks, breaking the silence. You look at him for a few seconds before shaking your head no. You take a gulp of wine, and the man before you chuckles as he watches.

"That bad you don't even want to share, huh? Alright, keep your secrets," he says with a smirk before taking a sip from his own glass.

You sit there in silence before he breaks the ice again. "You come here often?"

"After a stressful day at school? Absolutely." You scoff, swirling the drink in your hand.

"Hmm..." He raises an eyebrow at you.

"Enough about me." You wave him off before he can even ask another question. "What brought you here tonight?"

"I usually hit the bars first before I—" He cuts himself off. Before I go to the nightclub and find a woman to bed tonight.

"What? Say it, where are you going?" You challenge.

"Nah, nothing important. And, no place is as interesting as here right now." He smirks, and it almost makes you blush. "But I digress. What's got you drinking so much this late in the evening?"

You give off a sound between a scoff and a laugh. "What is this? 21 questions?"

A mischievous grin spreads at that thought. "You know, that's not a bad suggestion." He comments. "But maybe we could switch the wine for some harder liquor for that. What do you think?"

"I'm not saying no to a free drink." You shrug as you finish your glass of wine. He smirks and gestures to order a bottle of shochu.

"Alright, you can start since you didn't answer my first question." He gives you a mock pout, and you can only laugh at him.

"That's very kind of you." You tell him as you start thinking about what questions to ask this mysterious man. "Okay, I got one."

"Shoot."

"What's the worst date you've ever been on?"

"Never been on one." And you look at him with disbelief. "No one wants to hang out long enough for that. It's always the bedroom." He shrugs.

"No fucking way. How the hell have you not been on dates?" With that face and all. But you keep that last thought to yourself.

"Hey, you only get one question. Drink." And so you drink a shot, the burning sensation of the alcohol lingering in your throat. "My turn." It takes him a few seconds before he asks, "Are you a cat person, a dog person, or something else?"

"Definitely a cat person. Not that I ever had one."

"Really? I thought you'd be a dog person."

"Ah, ah, my turn now." He gestures for you to continue. "What do you do for work?" Without hesitation, he drinks, and you give him a sideways glance. "Alright, keep your secrets then. " You tell him as he chuckles.

"Do you like coffee or tea better?" He shoots you his next question.

"Coffee, the more bitter it is, the better. And you?"

"Tea, but very sweet."

"I never thought you to have a sweet tooth." You remark as he shrugs once again.

"My turn. Why are you single? Or at least I'm guessing you are..."

Well, that's a no-brainer. You mentally thought before taking a shot.

"Alright,” he lets out a laugh at how quickly you avoided that question, “Moving on then." He comments as he braces himself to be asked the same thing, but the question never comes. Instead, he finds you deep in thought for your next question. Huh.

"What's your love language?"

"Hmm..." He takes a second to think. "I'm not too sure."

You gesture to his glass. "You gotta drink." And so he does, and you watch as he downs a shot, eyes wandering to his throat as his Adam's apple bobs as he drinks.

He sets down his glass and pours you another. "Alright, my next question... What are you most proud of yourself for?"

Gojo's watchful eyes fell on you as you answered the question silently and drank without reluctance, the alcohol going down smoothly now that you've had a couple shots. You came here tonight to rid yourself of your problems, not to think of them.

"Oh, it's like that then."

"Shh. My turn." You shush him as you pour him another. "Have you ever had your heart broken?"

He drinks, and you mockingly scoff at him. "Are we just going to avoid all the difficult questions then?"

He smirks at you as he finishes his glass. "Double question~." He says in an almost sing-song manner as he pours you another shot, motioning for you to drink. You purse your lips together in mock irritation before drinking anyway.

"My turn again." He says as he pointedly looks at you. "How do you like to spend your free time? Or rather, what's a perfect day for you?"

You think long and hard about your answer. Given your situation, your home life could be better. You've never known "normal," even as a kid, not when you were raised as your family's pawn. You sigh before you drink. Again.

"You gotta be kidding." He looks at you inquisitively. "There's no way you don't know what a perfect day is for you... Do you mean to say our little night of mischief a couple weeks ago wasn't ideal for you?"

You shake your head with a chuckle but don't say anything. Sure, you usually end up in other men's beds during your nightly adventures, but it's not really something you would consider perfect. You gesture to his glass. "Double question. Drink."

He puts his hands up in surrender before downing another shot. You can feel that the drinks are starting to affect you, and you feel lightheaded, but in a way that you don't remember why you were drinking in the first place. It was like the first day you met him. He made it easy to forget everything other than the now. You internally thank fate for this mysterious white-haired man with pretty blue eyes who kept you company. Ah.

"What's your favorite thing about yourself?" You blurt the question after that line of thought.

He laughs heartily. "My face." He says without any doubt, which makes you look at him in disdain. "What? At least it gets me laid." He adds as he wiggles his eyebrows at you with the same boyish smile you remember from your first meeting. The same smile he gave you in your fever dream of him, the smile that hinted that he was up to no good. Oh god... You look away, but you know it is too late. You felt your cheeks heat up, your eyes widening as if you were a child caught stealing candy from a jar. "Oh! So you agree!" He notes with such excitement, trying to steal a look at your face as you look away.

"Oh, shut up!" You pushed him away, but really, it was understandable.

"Aww, you're no fun~" He sounds sulking but settles down before asking his next question. "Fine. My question. Where would you go if you could go anywhere?"

That makes you pause and consider. "I'm not sure. I've never really thought about that. I've never been too far out of the city." Not with your family holding you by the neck.

"Tsk tsk," he waves an admonishing finger at you, "drink. That's such an ambiguous answer."

You fidget with your glass before you down your shot. You can barely feel the aftertaste of the alcohol with how much you have drunk. "My turn. Who is the most important person in your life?"

With no hesitation, he drinks.

You look at him in a bit of a shock. His eyes look somewhat distant than it was a second ago. "We should probably start hitting the harder stuff, huh?" You suggest as you try to reel him back to reality.

"Agreed. Especially if you keep asking these types of questions..." He shakes his head with a defeated laugh. Shortly, he stood up and ordered another bottle of drinks from the bartender. As he approaches, you recognize the bottle of whisky in his hands.

Well then.

He opens the bottle and pours you a glass before settling down in his chair again. "Oh! I got a good one."

"Go for it."

"Have you ever cheated on anything or anyone?"

You take a second to think. You think about your marriage arrangements... Is it still considered cheating when you've never been with your fiance? You don't even have that kind of feelings for each other. Ah, shit. Internally, you erase the thoughts as quickly as they came and drink instead.

He gives you a sideways glance. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Stop asking double questions. Drink." You scold him with a subtle slap on his arm. "But to be fair, that's karma for the last question." He rolls his eyes playfully as he downs another shot.

You lean into the table as you hold your glass in your hand, trying to get a good look at this mysterious stranger's face before presenting your next question. "What would you change if you could go back in time and do something differently?"

A look of sentimentality bleeds into his eyes, and Gojo briefly thinks of Amanai. There wasn't a mission after that where he didn't think of how much better he could have handled things. Okay, nope, not tonight. "You're asking some real tough ones, huh? But unfortunately for you, I'm not answering that either." He says before taking a swig.

"Whatever." You say with a laugh and drink with him anyway as the alcohol starts to cloud your mind.

"Have you ever failed at something?" He asks, swirling the drink in his glass.

Not even a split second later, you find yourself chugging your drink. You think about your situation, and even though you have your current freedom, your family still controls most of your life. Well, it's not that you failed to get your liberty entirely. Still, you didn't succeed either... and you don't plan on elaborating on that tonight. Meanwhile, Shoko and Geto's faces flash before Gojo’s mind, and he finds himself drinking after you on the same question he asks. The drinks even hit harder on your next question.

"Have you ever made a promise that you didn't keep?" You ask him just out of curiosity. He doesn't say anything and feigns a laugh. He sure is thinking about the past a lot tonight. It takes him a second to down his shot, the questions getting more instinctive than the first few.

"Who in your life most makes you feel a sense of home?" He throws you back a question just as quickly. You reflect on it. Your childhood flashed at the back of your mind. It wasn't a welcome memory. Sure, you were given all your necessities, but that was all. It could have been better. And right now? You don't think there's a place you call home. You drink a mouthful of your drink as it is easier to swallow than explain that in detail.

"Do you believe in soulmates?" You blurt out almost spontaneously. He opens his mouth to answer but stops before the words leave his lips. Instead, he reaches out for his glass and drinks. You give him a once-over, and his question follows not even a second later.

"Do you believe in second chances?" He asks.

"Hmm... That depends..." You rest your cheek against the palm of your hand. "You know what, never mind." You add, before drinking. Surprisingly, he takes a drink with you.

You wipe your lips with your thumb before asking him your next question. "Have you ever changed your mind about something you were once sure about?"

The back of a particular black-haired man flashes again at the back of his mind. Ah, fuck it. Satoru internally cusses before grabbing the bottle and chugging it. As he places the bottle back on the table, you smirk. You take it from his hand before taking a swig. So many questions. So many drinks. And both of you were just being tight-lipped now.

"Alright, last one." He smirks right back before leaning into you. "What's your name?"

You peek at him from under your lashes before intertwining your hand with his. "I got something more interesting for you." You remark as you stand up from the table, dragging him out of the bar.

He smirks at you, knowing. He wanted to bury his memories; he knew you could help him with that.

Unlike last time, this time you ended up in the first-class district of the city, courtesy of this white-haired man. You may not know his name, but one could think he’s filthy rich. Being able to book such a luxurious hotel in this part of the city on a whim. You should have known better about following rich men around this part of town, but here you are, cuddled up to his side as his fingers traced circles on your skin.

Gojo keeps himself awake this time, feeling your warmth against his body. Everything felt... perfect. And that felt weird. Nothing felt right since that incident in his life, so why was he feeling this way now? He leans into you, letting go of his initial thoughts as his cheek settles on your head, inhaling your scent with a smile. You smelled like cherry blossoms in full bloom. The calm before the storm that's called his life. The sense of normality. He hated to admit it, but maybe he was hoping to see a glimpse of you anywhere because you brought this sense of peace to him. Only one word could describe what he is feeling right now: satisfied.

"Hey? You still with me?" He murmurs, and he feels you nod against his side. Another surprise. Usually, the women he beds wouldn't be able to keep up with him, but if the first time you met wasn't much of a hint that you were different already, this confirms that. "I'm surprised you're still awake."

"Mm... barely." You say with a slight giggle. You can feel yourself slowly drifting to sleep.

"Then sleep." He slaps your arm playfully, chuckling after you. "You deserve that much." He remarks, turning to his side before he pulls you close to his chest and sighs contentedly.

Another month passes in the blink of an eye. Your mind wanders as you take a pause from working on your paperwork. It was a weekend, but after that last meeting with your tall, silver-haired friend, you haven't had the chance to go clubbing recently. Every case you handled the past month took it out of you, making you crash and sleep whenever you had the opportunity. You wonder where he is now after you left him in the hotel. Now that you think about it, you've already done that twice, never leaving him anything. He probably won't pay attention to me again if we ever see each other. You thought disappointedly before taking a sip of your coffee.

You sigh as you turn your attention to your surroundings. The cafe is quiet except for a few people. It's one of the few places you love in this cursed city. You love the brewed coffee here, and it is your go-to whenever you have to motivate yourself to work on weekends. You switch your focus on the pile of documents you have to review on your table. You are making progress, no matter how small, but it felt like you weren't doing enough, not even when you've been pulling all-nighters. You sigh at the thought.

"Ah! It's you!" A familiar voice exclaimed, and you turned towards the sound and blinked at the figure you saw. The friendly white-haired man trotted towards you with visible happiness before settling on the chair across you. He's right before you, but you refuse to believe it. He was wearing a dark, zip-up-looking jacket with a high and wide collar and pants of the same color, his signature sunglasses surprisingly absent. His hair and those blue eyes look even more vibrant with his outfit—

"What? Cat got your tongue?" He smirks. You recall that callback from when you were caught staring at him. And you're doing it again. With that, you are brought back from your reverie.

You shake your head lightly, blinking your eyes from your daze. He's really here. Weirdly, fate makes you two meet whenever and wherever. "What are you doing here?"

He shows you the bag of kikufuku he had brought from a popular store you recognize. Now you remember that night you were playing 21 questions—almost what? A month ago now? "Ah. Sweets, of course."

"I was in the area while... doing some stuff for work." He states. "And for your information, before you start accusing me like everybody else, I'm not slacking off either. I just finished early." He says almost too proudly. You now also remember that he didn't elaborate on his line of work. And with his outfit? It didn't stand out enough to be recognized.

"I see." You shot him a look of suspicion and curiosity as you grabbed your iced coffee from the table to take a sip. He glances at your current work desk. His pretty eyes darted from the strewed papers everywhere and the few books and notebooks that were open on specific pages before returning to your face.

"Law school?" He gives you an inquisitive look.

"Yeah."

"Hmm. That explains your drinking habits." He remarks with a laugh.

"Oh, shut up. I needed to let off steam." You wave him off.

"And let off steam, you did." He gives you an enticing look, and you lowkey feel the heat travel to your face. You furrow your brow and bite your lip as you look away. "Aww, don't be shy now. You and I know we both enjoyed those nights."

That you cannot deny.

"What? Are you suggesting that we make this a regular thing?" You joke, trying to at least take control of a little bit of the conversation.

"Your words, not mine." He smirks. The bastard.

You narrow your eyes at him, though his smug look doesn't even melt for a second. So, you decide to play his game. "Well, third time's the charm?"

His smile becomes more expansive as he leans in, taking his phone from his pockets and sliding it across the table. "Give me your number then."

You roll your eyes playfully as you let out an exasperated sigh. You take this man's phone anyway and tap your contact info away. As soon as you were done, you handed him back his phone, fingertips grazing his large palm.

"L/N Y/N, huh?" He says, reading your name out loud. It was the first time you've ever heard your name sound so sweet upon another person's lips it was almost intoxicating. You nod silently as he starts typing away on his phone. A few moments later, your phone buzzes in your pocket. You take it out to check.

From: Unknown Sender

Gojo, Satoru sent you his contact info

“Gojo?” The surname sounded very familiar but you couldn’t put a finger on it right now.

“Yep. That’s me. But please, call me Satoru. It’s finally nice to meet you, Y/N.”

You have your nose stuck in a book that Monday after your classes. A research paper was due in the next couple of weeks, and you were trying your best to focus on getting your shit done earlier than the deadline to be able to review your work. It was barely the start of the week, but you couldn't wait for the weekend for many reasons.

When you met at the cafe, you and Satoru agreed that you could meet on weekends only if both of your schedules permit. Keyword: If.

"I'm not promising anything, but I'll try. Things might get busy now and then, and I might have to work on my papers on the weekends, too." You can hear yourself say to him as you sip your coffee.

"I don't mind that. At least I can get in touch with you now, unlike before when I'm just relying on chance on when I'll meet you and where." He shrugs as he eats the second slice of the cake he ordered. Good god, what a sweet tooth.

"Hey, I'm serious." You furrow your brows at him. "I can't make this a ‘normal’ regular thing," you tell him, "so don't expect much—"

"Ah, ah. Don't even worry about it." He waves off your concern. "I wouldn't even consider giving you my number if I wasn't amenable to adjustments."

Satoru has been texting you for the past two days. Asking you about your day or what you have been up to. You have been at the back of his mind, and he's been struggling not to let it have a more physical effect on him. But to his dismay, he was more hung up than he thought.

It was the evening of Sunday after you met him when he lay awake in his bed. It could be more accurate to say that he couldn't sleep as he tossed and turned in his bed uncomfortably.

"Fuck." He huffs, covering his eyes with his arm, restless as he lays on his back. He peeks at his crotch, wincing as he sees his stiff erection. For what fucking reason was he feeling this way? He doesn't know, but thoughts of you swirled around his mind endlessly, how your hands would look so dainty, held by his big ones as his other hand travels all over your body. How your scent lingered on the bed as it did the last time you slept in a bed together, how his lips would feel against your smooth, supple skin.

This shit is not helping. Satoru thought to himself, sitting up. He reaches out for his phone on his nightstand. He stood up, pulling his pants to peek from under it. It was so bad he was leaking. An intrusive thought flits through his brain, and he smirks. He takes his phone to snap a photo before tapping a message.

To: Y/N

*You sent a photo*

Thinking of you tonight. I hope you sleep tight~ Coz I know I won't.

The moment you saw that picture, you almost dropped your phone with a squeak. Now that you're sober, you realize how massive Satoru is. No fucking wonder he got you limping that first time you slept together. The sentiment makes you take a sharp inhale of breath, putting your palms together as they start to sweat. Insufferable. But it was your type of "insufferable" not that you’d openly admit to that.

Back to the present, you try to distract yourself with your notes. A few students were littered all over the library, but overall, it was quiet. Well, other than your heavy breathing, probably. A few minutes pass, and you try to bury yourself in your papers, attempting to forget about the photo incident. Your phone buzzes a few moments later.

From: Satoru

What are you up to?

To: Satoru

School stuff. I'm at the uni library.

From: Satoru

Boring stuff?

To: Satoru

Yeah. What about you?

From: Satoru

Working. I'm in the suburbs of Tokyo. Hopefully, it doesn’t take long.

To: Satoru

Good luck.

From: Satoru

Are you sure I can't see you any time earlier this week?

You bite your lip. Heavens, you would love to see him, too, but your busy schedule said otherwise. You would kill for a break from your academics, but the deadline for your research paper is fast approaching, and you can’t afford any distractions.

To: Satoru

You know I can’t… Not right now.

You sigh as you press send. You thought that would end the conversation for now, but you were wrong.

From: Satoru

Aww, c’mon, babe. I’ll make it worth your while~

You can almost hear the lilt of Satoru’s voice through the text message, the playful tilt of his head, and the smirk plastered on those pretty lips. You try to erase the image of him before typing your reply.

To: Satoru

No.

I’ll let you know if my schedule changes.

Sent. This time, instead of pocketing your phone, you opt to put it in your bag, away from you, so that you won’t know when Satoru replies… because if the last message he sent you was any hint, you know he definitely will.

For the rest of the afternoon, you worked non-stop, only taking pauses in between to take bites of the snacks you bought. I should get some real food after this, you thought. You made some progress, much to your satisfaction; not enough to be ahead, but progress nonetheless. As the day ended, you wanted to reward yourself a little, hoping to be as motivated again for the next day. You gathered your things and started to pack your stuff when you caught a glimpse of your phone in your bag. You grab to check it, curious if Satoru replied to your last text.

From: Satoru

Oh, believe me, it will.

You don’t hear from Satoru after that last message. Not a text or call in sight. Alright then, you thought, but you didn’t dwell on it. You have more important things on your plate right now. You can take care of Satoru on the weekend. You continue to work on your papers until late evening, until your phone beeps. The blue-eyed man’s name was splashed on the screen, and the preview only showed an attachment instead of the usual text message. You furrow your brow, intrigued as you pick it up. What is he up to this time?

From: Satoru

*Satoru sent an attachment*

This is what you do to me.

The video starts dark like the camera was face down on something. There's a slight rustling in the background before the view clears. Satoru's face comes into view, flushed, and he is biting onto what looks like his shirt, exposing his upper chest. His pristine white bangs stuck to his forehead as sweat glistened on his skin. You can hear something from the background, too. Something rhythmic, something... wet. Your brows furrow as you fail to comprehend what that was until the camera turns black again for a split second before you see the same sight you saw in the photo he sent a couple days ago. Only this time, he has his fist around his cock. His movements were slow and deliberate. Hushed moans escaped his lips every once in a while. Your eyes widened, and your jaw fell slack at what this man had sent you, but at the same time, you couldn't take your eyes away from the video.

"This is what you do to me."

The statement rang in your mind, loud and clear, making you lick your lips. All of a sudden, you feel parched as hell. The video continued to play, and your eyes darted from one detail to another. How big he was, the vein that ran around his length, how slick he was as he fucked his hand. You squirm unconsciously in your seat.

"Fuck..." The curse trails off from his lips. "Maybe I shouldn't be thinking of your body too much." Satoru's voice had an audible quiver as his movements never faltered. "But hey, I'm letting nature take its course... and leave you with a little preview of what you can expect over the weekend if your schedule remains unchanged." You note a tinge of sarcasm in his tone. He's still trying to persuade you, it seems.

The silence drags on for a couple seconds before his voice returns. "I know you are as excited as I am for the weekend. You just hide it well." He lets out an arrogant laugh. "I want to feel you squirming under me. Your body, sprawled on the bed, slick and ready for me... Have I ever told you how much you fit me just right?" He continues as he teases his tip with a thumb, and you notice his legs tremble a bit from the stimulation. Oh, he's so sensitive.

" I wanted to be on top of you again. Kissing you. Biting you. Marking you as mine." He rambles on. "I can almost feel your fingers pulling at my hair, trailing down my shoulders, your nails scraping my back."

"I'd hook my thumb under your chin, tipping your head back, giving me access to that pretty neck of yours." He takes a sharp inhale, his breath hitching. "I want my tongue on your skin, tasting your sweat. God, you make me so fucking hard, baby... But I'm not in any rush. Especially since I won't taste you until the weekend, right? I gotta slow down and stroke slow." He laughs, but there is a noticeable tremble in his voice this time. "Savor every last bit since you're out here starving me." You can almost see the teasing smirk on his face.

He was true to his word, though. His strokes never stuttered. It was the same unhurried pace. Only his moans filled the air, coming and going as you excitedly eyed what he'd do or say next.

"My kisses would move lower, down your body, slowly." His voice deepening. "Down the hollow of your throat, your collarbone, then to your chest. My hands would linger over your perky breasts, fondling them, giving them what they deserve, what you deserve."

"God, what would I do to worship your body right now." He says through gritted teeth. "I'd press myself down onto you. Legs intertwining as I grind my cock against your thigh."

You notice his pace quicken before he speaks again. "I can almost feel your hands move down my body. From my chest, trailing down my hips before squeezing me at the base." He groans. "Mm, it's gonna be hard to take my time once I see you over the weekend, babe."

"Fuck, I want you. Now. I want to feel you tightening around me. Me, bucking into you as you close your eyes and your mouth falls open, moaning my name." He blabbers on. "Your nails leaving trails on my back. Your hair would be a mess. And speaking of messes," he says as he taps a finger against his tip and a string of pre-cum stuck to his fingertip as he moves it away, "I'm already making one right here, just for you."

His breathing was starting to get erratic. The way he was holding the phone was also getting more and more unsteady as it blurred with each stroke. "Maybe... maybe hold your wrists against the bed," he says, "leave you writhing as I try and find out all of your weak spots. You'd pull me against you, squeezing your legs around me."

The camera adjusts as you can almost feel how hot he must be from just watching. "And I'll, uh, I'll, uhm, I'll lean down," he starts to stutter, "slide two fingers into your mouth, tell you to suck as I kiss down your neck and grind down against you."

His pace quickens once again, his strokes getting more erratic than calculated. "We'd both be dripping wet. Push my fingers deeper, telling you to swirl your tongue around them. Fuck... Then I'll pull them out of your mouth, slick with your spit. I'd trail it down, down, down your body before ending up in between your legs. Press my wet fingers against you before pushing slow and deep, letting you ride my hand."

Another sharp breath is heard in the video. "Fuck, I'll slide down between your legs, wanting to bury my face into you. I'd slide my tongue to replace my fingers, eating you up. Oh god, I'd eat you out so good." He moans, his voice changing into a deeper pitch, sounding something closer to a whine, if you were being honest. "I can't even fucking think straight. The only thing left in my head is you. Oh fuck... Your taste. Your scent. Your tight heat. Your thighs squeezing my head. I'd want your hands on my hair, guiding me deeper into you. Oh, I’d love to use you to get off. I just want all of you… and I know you’d want all of me, too. Oh fuck... I'd— I'd let you cum with my mouth on you. Fuck... Oh, goddamn it. Oh fuck, Y/N. I need you—" His rambles were cut short as he came, ropes of cum spilling over his hand. He continues to stroke himself a little more, riding the high until the very last moment.

"Oh fucking hell..." He laughs nervously before switching to the front-facing camera with his free hand. His face was flushed, his shoulders heaving. "I can't wait for the weekend, baby. Then I'll show you how badly I've missed you in person." He snickers at the camera before taking a deep breath, trying to steady his breathing. "Fuck... I'll talk to you later. Bye, babe."

The video ends... but you feel hot all over. He came with your name on his lips. You didn't even realize how hard you were gripping your PJs. Your knuckles were white, and your breathing was uneven. God, this man's promiscuity knows no bounds, you thought as you took a deep breath before typing a reply.

To: Satoru

Meet me tomorrow.

Satoru goes about his day with renewed enthusiasm. From the perspective of his other colleagues, it was almost creepy. The Six Eye user was always known for his happy-go-lucky attitude, but they can tell there's something... different. He smiled smugly, thinking how he quickly got you with the hook, line, and sinker. Ever since he was little, it was easy to get his way; it was always that way. He may have matured over the years, but living life where you're considered an anomaly in the jujutsu world gives a person a sense of pride. The hum of the car engine was steady as he went through the city streets. It was a rare occurrence that he had to drive himself around. As much as it could be funny to let Ijichi fetch and drop you both at the hotel, he thought he'd spare the man some mercy today. Satoru only drives a little as the managers (mostly Ijichi) do that for him for missions, but today's an exception.

Lights flickered on in his vision as he passed them by. The sun was setting, and people finally heading home from school or work littered the streets as he leisurely tapped a finger on the steering wheel to the beat of a nameless song playing over the speakers. He wore his usual work clothes, the same old zip-up long sleeves, but he ditched the blindfold for the more normal round sunglasses. As much as he wanted to change into comfier clothes, he didn't have enough time. Doesn't matter. It's not like the clothes will stay for that long anyway , he thought with a smirk as he pulled up on the street of your university. He parks near the entrance and gets out of the car. He leans against it, takes out his phone, and taps you a message.

To: Y/N

I'm here by the entrance.

People who passed him spoke in hushed whispers, curious about who this stunning man was waiting for, but he paid them no mind. Nobody came close compared to you... Well, right now, anyway. Anticipation bubbled in his stomach, and he couldn't wait to get his hands on you. Oh, the things he'd do to you tonight. He pockets his phone back, closes his eyes, and lets the early evening breeze ruffle his hair.

"I'm sorry I'm late—" A familiar voice approached him, and his eyes immediately snapped toward the sound. You looked like you just ran a marathon to get to him. "Class dragged on and—?!"

Satoru hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you close, kissing you without warning. Your eyes widen as you try to push him away, but that only encourages him, and he deepens the kiss, holding your face steady as he does so. A moment later, you both come up for air. You could feel your warm cheeks, and you felt like your mind was melting.

"Satoru..." You say his name, breathless. "Not here." You scold him, but really, it was a half-hearted effort. He says nothing but lets you go just enough to open the car door for you, hand still lingering on your hip.

"After you," he gestures, and you bite your lip before getting in. He follows suit shortly after, going around and getting in the driver's seat. Not even a moment later, he leans in, his large hands cup your cheek again, and leans in for another kiss. A kiss that could easily have you jumping over to his lap—

"Satoru," you call his name when he lets you go, "we can do it here, but decorum says we shouldn't. " You tell him before he sighs in surrender.

"Fine." He rolls his eyes playfully. Not today… but maybe someday. He smirks at the thought as he starts the car. He keeps a hand on your thighs throughout the drive. His fingers caressed you in ways that had your imagination running wild. At some point, you had to hold his hand in both of yours just to keep your desires (and sanity) in check.

You both make it to one of the luxury hotels downtown. You are in disbelief. Every instance you slept with this man, he has taken you to different fancy hotels. Mind you, the other two occasions were spontaneous decisions, further proving that he either has a high-paying job or he's from a very wealthy family. In conclusion, he's rich as fuck. He stops by the hotel entrance, gets out of the car, and goes around to open the door for you. As you both enter the hotel lobby, he lets the valet take care of the car. The room was spacious; lounges were scattered along the hall's walls, and a few people with fancy outfits walked past occasionally. You felt out of place with your casual clothes, but at least you weren't the only one. Satoru kept his arm around your hip, making you struggle to keep up with his long strides. He pulls you close, breath caressing your ears, "I sure hope you're not having second thoughts." He teased before giving your ear a nibble as you approached the front desk. You let out a hushed gasp as you try to push him away, but the effort only makes him chuckle. Your eyes dart around. Nobody seemed to be paying attention to you other than the clerk squinting at you judgingly, making your cheeks flush.

"Good evening. Do you have a reservation?" She mutters monotonously. She eyes you from head to toe. What's her problem?

"Ah, yes." Satoru chimes in a little too enthusiastically. "It's under my name. Gojo Satoru."

For the next few seconds, the woman taps away at her keyboard. "The penthouse suite, correct?"

"Yep. Nothing but the best." He smiles before hooking a finger under your chin, making you look at him before his lips meet yours. Your hands clutch at his clothes instinctively. You hear the front desk clerk sigh disapprovingly as if saying, "Get a room," or, in this case, "Wait for your room."

Satoru doesn't seem to notice or care for the matter. He smiles at her cluelessly after kissing you as you both wait to be checked in. He was handed the keycard shortly after before he started guiding you towards the elevator.

Two things happened as the doors closed. One, the tall man corners you at the far end of the elevator. Two, his leg slipped between yours as he cupped your face, crashing his lips against you again, this time more passionately. More hungrily. His large hands fiddled around the edges of your blouse, fingers slipping underneath, making you shudder. His carefree demeanor suddenly disappeared into thin air, catching you off guard. Your mind clouded as his tongue found yours, and you couldn't help the soft whimper that escaped your lips. He unexpectedly breaks the kiss, and you suddenly find yourself stumbling towards him, trying to chase after his lips. He smirks, waving an admonishing finger toward you.

"Greedy."

"Me?" You look at him, confused. "You were the one that couldn't wait." You shot back as the elevator dings.

He only gives you the same signature smirk before dragging you out of the elevator towards your suite. He taps the keycard on the door, and as soon as it clicks open, he pulls you inside. The door slams shut from the outside world. It's only you and him now, no more, no less. The thought alone makes him let go of his other inhibitions. He backs you to the doorframe, caging you in with his arms. He stares at you, eyes hungry with want, making you look away, feeling a tad too self-conscious.

"Don't look away." He tells you. He cups your cheek, making you look up at the tall man. Your breath hitches at your throat as he kisses you again. Whimpers escape your small frame as his other hand continues its interrupted tour under your top. He only releases your lips as he slowly peels your blouse off, exposing you to the room's cool air. He devours all your sounds, tongues intertwining as your hands slowly and instinctively find the back of his neck, trying to further deepen the kiss. After a fleeting moment, his other hand moves to your back, unhooking your bra easily. Your hand moves to his zip-up jacket in return, unzipping the thing impatiently and slipping it off him. His smooth immaculate skin shouldn't have been a surprise, but damn, his chiseled abs, lean muscular arms; his body is a work of art. Your mouth waters at the sight, but he doesn't give you any time to process that information further as he grabs you by the wrist and turns you around. You brace yourself with the palms of your hands and bend down just a little without even thinking, grinding against him.

He pauses, making you look hurriedly at the man behind you. "I'm so glad I'm not the only one feeling impatient." He remarks before you feel his hand fiddle around the button of your pants. His skillful fingers only take a second before he's unbuttoning and unzipping your pants. He slowly slides it down your legs, and you step out of it when it lands on the floor. Kisses snake up your legs and thighs before he spreads your folds with his thumbs. You feel his hot breath against your cunt, watching as it starts dripping . He barely did anything to you, yet you are already a mess. He gives it a kiss. Then, a lap of a tongue. You gasp at the sudden motion, and he grins. He's tempted to eat you out, but there will be other chances. For now, he needs you. He needs to be inside you. He slowly stood, trailing kisses along your lower back and shoulders before ending at the back of your ear. With the way he leaned against you, his erection was grinding at you deliciously, promising the pleasure that was about to come. He teases your clit with two fingers, making you arch your back at his movements.

"Fuck, baby. You sound even prettier than I imagined," he whispers. "All those pretty moans, all for me. Did you moan like this when I sent you that video earlier this week?" He asks as his free hand, the one caging you by the doorway, moves as you hear the rustle of his pants as he tries to undo them. Satoru's cock springs free, and he wraps a hand around his base, starting to stroke himself. God, he can't wait to be inside you.

"S-Satoru." Your voice quivers as he rubs you relentlessly. "Fuck... Mmm, so good..!"

And that's what pushes him over. Hearing his name come out of your delicate mouth. He lets out a sharp breath, almost a hiss, as he pulls his fingers away. "Fucking hell." He curses as he hastily aligns his cock against your entrance. "You ready for me, babe?" He asks as he rubs the tip against your leaking cunt. "Heh, I think your pussy can answer for you, huh?"

His movements were electrifying, making your skin prickle with anticipation. "Sa-Satoru~," you whine, "stop... stop teasing..!"

"Tell me what you want then." His voice is condescending. His tip barely slipped inside you, making you feel even more deprived. "Tell me how much you want me, need me ."

"Fuck, Satoru..! I need you. I need you inside me. Please..!" The whines that escaped your lips were almost automatic. He smirks, realizing how much he has you wrapped around his finger.

"Hm? You gotta be more specific, baby." He taunts, rubbing his length between your thighs, making you dig your teeth into your bottom lip. "Tell me what you want."

The sounds of your mewls mingled with the sloppy sounds between your legs made your head spin. "Fuck, baby, please. I need... I need your cock. I need it— Ah!" Not even a moment later, he pushed into you, gripping your hips so hard you think it'll bruise. Your face contorts in pleasure at the sudden penetration. He takes it so achingly slow, your mind blanks and you can't even discern whether or not you want him to go further into you. You may have been drunk the first two times you've fucked, but you remember this feeling of fullness. The photo and the video were proof of that, too. But now that you're sober, your brain is short-circuiting at how big he is. He reached places you couldn't with your hands or toys, making your toes curl.

"You like that, babe?" He taunts you, pulling back a little, then pushing back in. Giving you something, but you need more. You dig your teeth into your lower lip, suppressing your whines. When he is met with silence, he pulls back all the way back before slamming back into you. The gasp you let out sounded so sinful it went straight to his dick. He groans at the way you are already clenching around him. "You can keep quiet all you want, but this pussy can't lie. Not to me." He remarks before he slowly starts to move. He wouldn't have moved until you've begun formulating words again, but fuck was he impatient. He couldn't wait a week, for fuck's sake, and he'd be damned if he were made to stay still for a minute longer. He kept a steady pace, hitting all your spots. Heat starts to pool in your stomach fast as he slowly but surely amps up the pace. Your knees feel like jello. You would have buckled a long time ago if it weren't for his hands on your hips, pulling you in and out onto him.

"F-Fuck! Sa-Satoru..! Too much!" You cry out in pleasure as he lets out a breathy chuckle from behind you.

"Aww, don't say that. I've barely started with you." He says as he starts to slam into you deeper. Tears threaten to fall from your eyes, and you could guess that anyone passing by the door would be able to hear your cries. "I know you can take it. So take it like the good girl you are."

A broken moan escapes your lips. Your skin prickles as you feel yourself tethered over the precipice of pleasure. Although Satoru wanted to stay in control , he couldn't help his needy groans echoing in the room. God, he felt so desperate. It's like he hadn't had anything like you before, and it's addicting. He leans on you, lips latching onto the back of your neck, sucking, kissing, biting, marking you as his.

"You take me so well," he whispers against your skin. The closeness makes you reach an arm to the back of his head, trying to pull him into you. He whispered words of praise as he planted fleeting kisses upon your forehead. With each moan that escaped your pretty lips, his resolve to make this last longer, crumbles. His movements started getting erratic. His fingers dug into your skin as you tangled your fingers in his hair with each thrust. Your body felt so warm. Your legs started to tremble as you uncontrollably clenched around him tighter.

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm gonna... fuck, I'm gonna cum—" His words were cut short as he crashed his lips against yours, muffling your cries and groans. "Cum with me, baby. Fuck, cum with my cock inside you..!" He demands. Your body responds to him not a second later. The waves of pleasure that washed over you as he emptied himself inside you sent you to your ecstasy. Hiccups wrecked your body as it trembled, and he rode every last second of it. You let out a whine of complaint from the sensitivity, but he pressed soft kisses on your temple while murmuring words about how good you were. He lets you catch your breath before pulling out of you. You let out a groan of complaint at the sudden emptiness, but he makes up for it when he carries you bridal-style in his arms. You lean into him as you open your eyes to see this man, eyes drooping.

"Hey, don't tell me you're already tired?" He smirks at you. "The night is young. And I'm sure as hell not done with you yet."

A couple more weeks passed after your last encounter, and despite your initial agreement with Satoru, there were times (multiple times, by the way) that this rule was disregarded. Every time, you told him it would be the last time. It was broken every time, and you always found ways to justify it. You needed a break from your studies. You wanted to see him. Being with him just felt that good. You couldn't help yourself. And so did Satoru. He found himself craving your presence, your touch, your kisses. He found that his thoughts seemed to wander to you even when he was at work. His smug smiles were proof of that, not that Ijichi appreciated seeing that. It gave the man the shudders.

As you submitted the last of your papers, you left the campus feeling lighter as all your headaches now seemed to float away. It was almost the weekend, and it was finally time to unwind. You take your phone out and start tapping away.

To: Satoru

How's work going?

Not a minute later, your phone buzzes.

From: Satoru

Boring... And you? Done with school?

Now that you think about it, he has yet to tell you about his work. To be fair, after your drunk questions, you have yet to bring it up again. Not that you have any reason to. He hasn't done anything that would raise your suspicion.

To: Satoru

Are you just slacking again?

You snicker as you send the message. You've heard Satoru complain about his job sometimes. Something about the elders? His superiors maybe? He tends to grumble about how they're such a pain in the ass.

From Satoru:

Hey! I wasn't slacking! <;(๑`^´๑)>

Not today, anyway.

You suppress a laugh bubbling from your throat.

To: Satoru

Alright, alright, don't pout. Are you still at work?

From: Satoru

Nah. I just finished, actually. Wait for me by the entrance. Let's go out and eat! There's a cafe I'd like to try out!

You can literally hear the elation from his text message. His sweet tooth knows no limits, so it seems. Well, at least it gets you free coffee, which works well for you.

To: Satoru

Okay. See you there... then my place tonight?

Your face heats up as you bite your lip in anticipation. You suggested that you take turns visiting each other's houses for the past couple of weeks instead of meeting up in hotels. As much as you've proven that this man is filthy rich, you didn't want him spending such unnecessary money over impromptu overnights at luxury hotels.

From: Satoru

Sure, babe ;)

Comments from my beta reader/co-creator while checking the draft:

I know I wrote the timeline but you didn't have to do it

I don't wanna read this fic anymore

I'm gonna highlight all of the things I hate in this fic *highlights the whole document* /jk

I don't want to involve myself in the demon shit that this is *skims a paragraph*

He is wearing his ugly ass onesie

I know what I said but don't @ me

Stay tuned for Chapter 2! uwu

Lemme know if you want me to make a taglist for this!

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karume-everything-else · 7 months

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Flufftober 2023

Day 7: "Close your eyes" [Reader x Saitama] {One Punch Man}

This couldn't be any cozier. All the things your friends were going on about when you said Sai was your favorite hero had been completely untrue. Yeah, he was a little lazy and stayed at home when he wasn't doing his job; but that wasn't a bad thing. It had been so weird asking him out, you wondered if he even read your letter.

He had been kinda cute, flustered like that.

But now you were snuggled up to him while his roommate went out. Genos was a good guy, real sweet and all that. It was super easy to see why your friends liked him, but Sai was just as sweet. It just took a little prying.

Curled up against his, surprisingly slim chest; you felt safe. Relaxing with a movie that you were pretty sure Sai wasn't interested in, but he loved spending time with you. He told you directly that he didn't care what you two did, as long as he could spend time with you. At first, it sounded horrid, but the way Sai asked to go do things made you realize he really didn't care what was going on around himself.

He only cared that you were there with him.

"So, what's the point of her cat?" Sai thought out loud.

You shifted a little under the covers, "Do you really want me to answer, or did you want to find out on your own?"

"Hm?" He dug into his ear, "Nah, I'm good. Just a little weird that its the only animal that talks."

"There is an answer to that." You snuggled under his chin carefully, "If you want me to tell you."

"Nah, it doesn't really mess with the story or anything. It doesn't talk to anyone else so it's not like a plot hole or whatever."

You snickered a little, just enjoying the time you had. His arm wrapped around your back, slowly rubbing your back. It was extremely soothing, especially with such a 'do nothing' movie in the background.

"Sai, you're gonna put me to sleep doing that."

"Hm?" He didn't stop, "It'll be fine. You can just stay the night if you do fall asleep. I'll make sure you get up in time, promise."

"I don't wanna make things difficult for you or Genos though." You stifled a yawn.

"It's not a problem [Name], it'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"If I didn't know any better Sai, I'd say you want me to stay the night."

"Well, yeah. A little."

You couldn't help but chuckle as you relaxed a little more.

"Okay, so a lot." Sai continued, "It would be nice to cuddle you tonight."

"Then maybe we should tell Genos so he isn't blindsided by this. It's just rude to not give him a heads up."

"Yeah, sure. Lemme get my phone real quick."

You nodded while sitting up. Stretching and popping your back, all the while trying to stifle a yawn. Sai wandered back in with his phone in one hand, a second pillow in his other hand. He was prepping for your stay. The fact that he didn't just keep a pillow in his room for this specific reason. But he never wanted to force you to do stuff you didn't want to. Maybe he felt that it was too pushy to keep a spare pillow on his bed.

"[Name], I know it's not that late," Sai walked back in, "But maybe we should... go to bed?"

You lazily eyed the movie, seeing where it was, "Hmmm, yeah. Sure. I guess Genos isn't going to be back until late?"

"Yeah, something about..." He checked his phone, "Being asked to a dinner meeting with that movie star guy."

"Wait, the hero that does all the movies?" You tilted your head as you approached Sai.

"Yeah, I think."

"I mean, I guess that makes sense. But I don't get it."

"Hm?"

"He just seems like a jerk." You leaned against Sai's shoulder, "Like who let him be pretty when he's just gonna be snobby and petty?"

You could have sworn Sai snickered at your, admittedly tired musings. There could be a hundred reasons why, but you really didn't care. Especially as you settled in next to Sai.

"Hey [Name]?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

"Love you too Sai." You nuzzled against his shoulder, "Close your eyes, okay? This was your idea after all."

"I know. Night."

"G'night Sai."

#x reader #saitama x reader #one punch man saitama #saitama #one punch man #opm #opm x reader #opm saitama #flufftober 2023

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 1 year

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Hey! Can I please get some headcanons for Kevin (Spooky Month) x Male reader who is a coworker? And like, Kevin slowly starts to have a crush on him

Being a CandyClub worker has..some perks.

There weren’t many that came with a minimum wage job in a town where demonic/creepy stuff was always happening and irritable customers raided the store on most holidays.

But one was working with Kevin, in which you started at the beginning of the year.

You help him out with the front, making sure it looked presentable and that you got people whatever they needed.

Ofc, there’s always a snobby customer or two who ordered you around. But you learned not to let it bother you. You just smile and tell them to have a nice day.

Ngl Kevin doesn’t know how you stay sane.

Everyday he resists the urge to reach over the counter and strangle them if they're rude to you.

He occasionally catches himself staring at you whenever you’re smiling--no matter if it’s a fake customer service smile or genuine.

And the few times you've cracked a good joke or laughed. God.

His heart's been skipping beats, fluttering even when he's just talking to you normally.

He passed it off as a sugar rush at first.

Both of you make jokes about quitting constantly. Though Kevin always seems dead serious, and you wondered why..

You'll soon come to find out when “spooky month” arrives--the time when Skid and Pump show up to bring him (usually unintentional) trouble.

But the second he sees them, he just leaves you at the register and runs out back, trying not to have a panic attack.

Confused, you give the kids their candy and search for Kevin, finding him hiding among the unopened boxes.

“Wh-What did those brats do this time?”

“..nothing, Kev. Why? I know you warned me about them, but...they don’t seem like troublemakers-”

“Looks are deceiving, [y/n]. That’s all they’ve ever been for the past four years!!!” He finally snaps, ranting to you about how they’ve given him nightmares, brought evil dolls, giant demons, and literal serial killers into the store, and left him “sugar” in which he thought he was gonna be arrested for possessing.

“Oh..damn..I guess those kids are bad luck magnets.” You mutter, sitting beside him as you finally understand the root of his extreme stress.

It’s not the customers, but what those kids put him through every Halloween--whether they mean to or not.

“Yeah, so you see why I hate this job so much.."

“Then...why don’t you quit if you’re genuinely unhappy here?”

“..........”

You gotta pry the reason out of him, weaving through whatever bullshit answers he gives you as to why he wouldn't just turn in a notice and run out of here.

And eventually, he admits that he only stays bc he likes you, not caring if he couldn’t have a relationship with a coworker--he just had to get that off his chest.

Kevin expects you to laugh, but instead you smile and admit you shared similar feelings. It shocks him, though he feels a lot better knowing you reciprocated them.

Both of you are about to have a soft/tender moment until you hear mischievous laughter coming from inside and realize the usual trio of kids are stealing candy.

You grab his hand to help him up, not letting go as you rushed back inside together (all the while, his face is red)

On your next day off, you’ll definitely go on a date far away from this shop.

#clanask #anonymous #spooky month x reader #spooky month kevin #spooky month kevin x reader #male reader #headcanons

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pastelwitchling · 4 months

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Thoughts on Percy Jackson and the Olympians, episode 3:

(Disclaimer: I loved everything about the episode except, mostly, Annabeth herself. So if you're going to get offended because someone doesn't like the same fictional character, because that's what Annabeth is, and if you're going to try to turn the argument into something else, please don't bother reading.)

So. This is a bit difficult because I feel very conflicted/wary about what's to come, mostly because Disney has not been historically good at girl power or badass female characters. Let me just say this; while I used to love the CW's Flash, it quickly went downhill when the Flash took a backseat to his own show for the CW's half-assed "girl power" message. I fear the same might happen here.

Let me be very clear about something. It makes sense why Annabeth would seem like the more formidable opponent at the start of the story. She was more or less that in the first two books because, not only is she the daughter of the goddess of wisdom and battle strategy, but she'd spent a lot of her life training for quests, studying about the gods, and she just knew more than Percy did. I didn't like Movie Annabeth for most of the first film either for the same reasons I'm about to list below, please keep that in mind.

My issue will come here; if Percy starts to take a backseat to his own show just so we can highlight how great and awesome Annabeth is and girl power rules and whatever, I'm going to be very, very miffed. Again, it's fair for me to worry about this now because Disney is all tell and no show when it comes to women. Just like they did with Marvel, just like they did with the most recent Disney Princesses, it's more important to them to show how woke they are instead of caring about the actual stories they tell. And I'm Middle-Eastern, so don't even try any of that self-righteous white woman racial crap with me, okay?

I know I'm saying what a lot of people probably think but aren't allowed to say, but -- call me crazy -- I want the show based on the Percy Jackson books to focus on Percy Jackson. To be honest, I've never loved ANY of Rick Riordan's female characters, save for Ana from Daughter of the Deep, as well as the other female characters in that book, but that's not even in the Percy Jackson world, so it doesn't count. And I ONLY say this now because, again, Disney has SUCKED with their female characters. It's all pandering and nothing but pandering.

The first book especially always frustrated me with the way Grover never really seemed to defend Percy against Annabeth's snobby behavior, so this aligns fine. I'm not really saying anything against the character either (not yet), as this frustration with how unfair and snobby she is towards Percy very much aligns with the book. I guess I was just hoping that since I always hated Annabeth in the books and she was actually likable in the second episode, that maybe the show would be better about her portrayal. I was actually thinking how cute they would be as a couple in the second episode, but now? I'm kind of back where I was with the books, I don't see why she deserves him, not yet.

Much like Grover was in the episode, I was just looking at a lot of her behavior as Really? The guy had NO reason to invite you on this quest, you NEEDED him to pick you, and you still act like he's the idiot for caring about his mom and not knowing anything about this world that he's just found out about, and it's so freaking entitled, I --

I've been part of the Roswell, New Mexico fandom since season 1, and I know just how ridiculous people get when you DARE criticize a character who HAPPENS to be played by a black actress. I don't give a crap. I'm critiquing the CHARACTER here, and I'm disappointed, not with her, but the writing itself. It's too soon to tell, I know, but I do hope Disney is better about Annabeth's character than the books were, because I saw Book Annabeth as rude, selfish, and unfair, it bothered me that everyone in the story still idolized her despite how toxic her behavior was (save for Percy, but just in the beginning, and then he was fine with her hitting him and calling him stupid all the time), and I saw glimpses of that in episode 3, so I'm hoping for better.

Also, that whole, What are you afraid of? conversation felt so weird and forced. They JUST started the quest, Percy is throwing in suggestions, Annabeth treats him like he's stupid for it, and then demands to know why he's scared of who he is, and I'm like ?? What warranted that question? He hasn't used his powers yet, he hasn't refused to use his powers yet or talk about his father or anything, so why would he seem afraid of who he is? It just makes no sense.

Honestly? At this point, I just feel bad for Leah because Annabeth is a very difficult character to make likable in my eyes, and it's made worse when the writing won't allow her to be any better.

Aside from that, I really did love the episode a lot. I wish Grover had done more to defend Percy in the beginning, but he did the same thing in the book and he eventually did step in. Medusa was actually great. I hated the actress's character in the Flash, so I was wary, but she really knocked it out of the park. I love some of the extra details they put in, like Percy giving her a chance because of his mom and kindness (fatal flaw, if you know you know), I LOVED the consensus song, and YES! I was SO worried they wouldn't have Percy send Medusa's head to Olympus, but they did and he was perfect and it was AMAZING! When Annabeth said that what Medusa said isn't what happened, I would've liked an explanation of what actually did happen. Then again, it feels like there's a bit too much exposition already, to be honest. Like there were more creative ways to explain Thalia, there were more creative ways to explain Annabeth and Luke finding camp, and I don't know if it's because I've memorized the books at this point, but it feels like so much of the episode is just dedicated to explaining things that don't really need explanation or could be saved for later to show through flashbacks or something. I don't know, just more creative than standing and sitting there while someone explains everything.

It works great sometimes, like with Sally and Percy, but other moments just feel very... exposition-y.

I love this show. It's the highlight of my week. I maintain that we are getting the best possible adaptation. It's just because I love this story so much and it's so sacred to me that I can't help but critique. I don't think the books are flawless (i.e. the female characters), so it stands to reason that I won't find the show completely flawless either. Is it still sacred to me? Absolutely. Percy Jackson has always been too important not to nitpick, I think.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #anti annabeth chase #i'll put that in #though i don't really think it is #i feel like it's just a critique #but whatever #for the more sensitive lot

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plasticfangtastic · 6 months

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Cozy Corner Kinktober Day 21-- (3 for me)

Behind the Scenes

A Homelander X Tek Knight fanfic, and Maeve is here.

Cozy corner kinktober– prompts: 18. Voyeurism, 10. orgasm denial, alt. Kink of choice– Exhibitionism.

A/N: Tek is gonna be OOC a bit bcuz honestly he’s only been in 1 ep and god knows what he's gonna be like in S4, so am inspiring him heavily on Bruce Wayne just to help myself here (used to write superbat fics back in HS), so sorry ‘bout that… I also set this in s2 so I don’t think Tek Knight’s tumor would be as advanced as it is in gen V so his hole fetish has been toned down, as I imagined it would’ve been something that slowly progressed over time… from kink to straight up fetish.

TW: masturbation, whatever the fuck is up with Tek Knight Hole fetish, angst, both men are being pervs, Bisexual Homelander, cum swap.

word count: 5.2K

Nothing beats an ex-lover when you need the strongest distraction after being utterly humiliated.

Edgar said no lies as he equated him to a manchild. His verbal lashing stabbing deeply into every insecurity, even threatening with terminating his contract had barely raised his blood pressure. He hadn’t cared… ignoring him and educating him in what he really was… what Vought really was and how meaningless he was in return… more than condescending… it hurt… it made him want to fly to his apartment and burn it down.

Instead he was at Tek-Knight’s afterparty, mingling with lesser A-listers and wondering what had gone wrong in his life that he had to smell the foot fungus on people’s mouths.

He turned to look around after escaping another pitch for his next film, Homelander couldn’t think of doing another film when he was feeling so terribly down, his sinuses burning as he tried to not drown himself in self-pity and crying… wanting so dearly to speak to his brother in private, just to hear his words of affirmation and encouragement.

His sole consolation came in the shape of other members of the Seven being subjected to the same meandering– not that they seem to be suffering too much.

Homelander eyes Maeve as some above average publicist chatted her up.

“Want me to get that for you?”

Homelander turned to spot a sharply dressed man, their shoulders rubbing at the same height as he offered a glass of bubbly.

“Sparkling White Grape Juice. Had to go all the way down to the kitchen to find a single bottle for you.”

“I don’t need it.” Homelander said just as sharply as this Italian suit made him look.

“Your tongue is looking 15% paler than usual. You’re parched.” he replied pushing the glass closer to him– "She's aroused.”

“You fucke–

“The publicist. She is being extra flirty… If I had to guess, she its already planning on how to get Maeve to fuck her in the parking lot.”

Robert turned to face him as a red glove delicately ripped the glass off his hand, he gave it a sniff to make sure it was clean, pleasantly surprised that was the case– even the juice smelled clean.

“I know you think I have a death wish but please…”

“Stop analyzing me.”

“So who ticked you off? Couldn’t be Maeve because you wouldn’t leave her alone if that was the case? Was it Matt Damon over there– he’s so snobby? Or was it in the office?” He stared at him trying not to chuckle, seeing that slight squeeze of his jaw– Is it that new cute little thing? Or a wHole other thing?

“Stormfront doesn’t bother me.”

“Bzzz.” He chuckles while taking a sip of his champagne– lie to all those cocsuckers but you can’t lie to me John.”

“Don’t call me that.” The glass made a slight crack but it kept its shape.

“Thought you reinstated my privileges after so long.” He looks down at the rim of his glass, happy he took a sip, and the mark his lips left behind– have some pity on me. I'm going through some health issues.”

Homelander turns to stare at him, undressing him from toe to head, looking at the density of his bones, his heart for any blockages, abnormal palpitation or growing tissue, his lungs for unusual growths then as his sight sets on Robert’s head he freezes, squinting at the mass.

“Going to try some medications. Just a scare but the Doctors aren't sure how they are gonna crack this titanium skull of mine– oh the irony of an indestructible body being the reason behind my demise.” He chuckles dryly hiding the slight tremor on his voice expertly.

“Chemo?”

“And go bald!? Jesus John… I know you’re mad at me but don’t pray for my downfall. You think people would see my movies if I became ugly?”

“I don’t think it matters, nobody who comes to see your crap has any taste… or eyes.”

That earned a smile on the other man, as he saw his tongue lick his lip, Homelander had finally found a distraction.

“This party it's so boring– want to play a game, Tek?”

Tek Knight blushes before a snide smile crossed his face, leaning even more closer towards Homelander knowing there was no reason to whisper into his ear, he just wanted to see the hairs of his neck raise as his silvery voice susurrated, Homelander couldn’t help but to choke back a moan, as the tip of his nose rubbed his ear.

“I’ll play anything you want, John. Just to help you smile again– so heads or tails?”

He was so smooth with his words, no wonder he was so popular, always around Homelander’s sphere when it came to those important women focused rankings.

Homelander knew the rules like the back of his hand, just as he knew how this man would never leave the house without that stupid casino chip on his breast pocket, if he knew Homelander was going to be in the vicinity… neither liked letting go.

It had been a torrid and sudden affair– the first time they’ve met had been like a smack across the face, Madelyn had wanted a team-up to help boost Homelander’s image, to have the world’s greatest detective and up and coming TV name staple teaming up with the world’s greatest superhero– It was the stuff of legends.

There was a maturity to Tek Knight that other supes didn’t have, the way he handled the masses was smooth, the way he poise himself and dressed was the definition of suave, he was born for the camera and it loved him, his little warming exercises even had a charm to them while Homelander still struggled to control his secret stutter… deep down he believed they wanted him to study the weaker supe, to copy him, to spend time with him and discover how to be better… he never expected to find himself drawn to him, Tek read him with ease learning how to handle him more than anybody else… he didn't use tricks to mess with him just used his gifts to learn how to speak to him, Tek hated deceith just as much as he did– quick to call bullshit even from Homelander.

He didn’t like the boy’s scout persona either… It was being able to speak freely to set the fire inside Homelander… There was this unspoken rule amongst all supes… Some clung to the belief they were too moral to fall trap to the factoid, while others just kept their mouth shut knowing the consequences would be too great if the lesser flock heard them… but here… Tek didn’t care, he had no desire to care.

Maybe that’s how Homelander found himself on top of him, maybe that’s why he didn’t flinch at the taste of bourbon on his lips, maybe that’s why that stupid green chip bothered him so much, he could’ve ripped it off his hand easily. Catch it mid-air as he flicked it. Turn around and ignore him for the rest of the party or simply leave.

But Tek knew he was too transfixed now watching the gold sparkle under the low light as the chip dropped back into his hand and hid under the heel of his palm.

“Heads.” Homelander said looking at the compound fracture at the base of his glass.

Robert grinned, lifting it to reveal the faceless side, Homelander groaned.

Rules were simple… 1 hour… don’t get caught… each round progressively gets more and more dangerous… they could not go where the others couldn’t see, no flying out of state or running underground, they had to stay where they could see or hear each other no matter what, or it was an instant disqualification.

“What’s the prize this time?” Homelander began to walk towards the balcony of this venue, not wanting any of the people who caught the coin flip to pry any further– or…?”

“The usual.” He smiles as he follows him.

Close enough that he doesn’t need super senses to smell him, to feel his presence rubbing against him, hithering closer as they close glass doors behind, he can’t never fully forget the feeling, just how Tek made him feel, the way he knew how to touch him and where to touch him, how delicate his touch was for how deadly it could be, he swallowed.

Looking down and thinking of jumping into the pool several floors below, anything to maybe get away from him… feeling like a deer caught in the crosshair of a pack of wolves.

Homelander watches the heads below, minding their business knowing the party was just a couple steps behind, crossing his hands in front of him as Tek takes out his phone, leaning closer until he’s resting his entire weight against him, his thumb presses play– it didn’t matter what his screen was playing, just a decoy… for any lucky passerby to simply see two men hanging out having a laugh at some stupid video.

“Want to play for 1 hour, this time?” Tek said softly, hiding his excitement.

“Jesus, you think my time it’s worth pennies?”

“It's my party.” he laughed lightly.

“Fine. You're so gonna regret this when it’s my turn.” That was the childish glee that Tek liked so much… this softer and playful side that only he could be privileged to.

It really should’ve never happened, the mission was over and the room was covered in soot and guts, watching each other heave, sharing few words, staring at each other for too long, jumping throats before the bodies grew cold. They had no idea why… not after… only that he liked him… he liked John… he liked knowing this secret half that so few could be privy to, it was a rush to be the bearer of such secrets, to see that soft look on his face of bliss as they held each other's arms… but they could’ve never been together, even if Tek Knight’s demographic could’ve been more forgiving… nobody would allowed them to be together… so it was nothing but a fantasy– nothing but a dream within a dream.

“It’s not fun if you make it easy.”

Homelander sighs and lowered his zipper, hearing the sound of his facial muscles move as Tek looked down.

Homelander stroke the limp member slightly, getting tutted by his friend, he groaned and stroked harder, looking at the monkeys beneath still unaware of what he was doing, low enough to make sense of what they could see, his blood pressure increase knowing how bad it would be, how bad it would fucking destroy him if they caught him stroking his cock next to a man.

Tek made the game harder, sliding his arm across Homelander’s shoulders, knowing his hand was out of frame enough that he could stroke his ear without being noticed from the party, his nails caressing his chin, he hissed wetly as his touch drew circles on his cheek leaning his head lightly into his digits– some people caught wind of them, seeing exactly nothing, just two friends laughing, something cute at most, a phone camera took a photo from behind catching all the indecency and nothing.

Homelander was so fucking hard as he heard the fan make commentary.

“No cumming, yet… you know the rules.”

“Fuck off.” Pre-cum coating his gloved fingers, he watched his cock twitch against the cold wind, wanting badly to just end it, feeling the burn building under his stomach– my turn!”

He tucked it, leaning down, hiding his face as he tried to breath himself back together, force it if he could, but he couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly, feeling the adrenaline coursing thru his veins, swallowing the intoxicating perfume, Homelander shoots a cautious look behind examining the room and the building for their next spot.

“Anywhere in the hotel grounds… we don’t leave the place…54 minutes left!” Homelander hisses.

“How many casualties allowed?”

“2 per person max.” He begrudgingly said– can’t make a scene… too many big names… journalist… photographers… we make it look like accidents.” Homelander looks him straight into his soul– already got Stan Edgar breathing down my neck.”

It hurt him to deny himself, but Robert didn’t argue, just massaging his neck to help him cool down.

Both men smiled at each other.

Counting every tick.

The game began.

It was a maze to navigate, to find blind spots, to discover empty halls and ignored crevices and staircases, Homelander and Tek Knight chasing each other from a distance, giggling like naughty school girls the closer and closer they got to being caught, watching their displays of debouchery with amusement as they grow increasingly more horny and frustrated, they couldn’t cum until the last set or until one gave up, edging until it was unbearable.

Homelander rubbed his aching hardened member against the pillow of some stranger’s suite who had foolishly left the balcony open... Robert listened to his meandering waltzing around the room, sniffing some girls lace underwear while frothing his cock, being just a pitch louder than he should for the other man’s pleasure before he had settled on the bed and now Robert could feel his own cock about to break, his balls heavy and swollen and the pre-cum stain dampening his suit as it twitched around his hand.

Homelander loudly suckled on his fingers, wetting them until they were covered in a thick layer of drool.

Letting out the most obscene moan as he slapped his own ass, earning a dirty glance from the soon to be loser-- Tek had broken into the suite below drinking in their minibar just hearing the action with eyes closed as he stained the bed with pre-mix… as he tried to calm his cock and definitely to avoid coming from the sounds of Homelander fingering his pussy, choking as the wet squelching sounds grew furiously louder.

“That couple just finished having dinner downstairs… you might want to hurry up… should be here in a couple minutes tops.” He mumbled trying to calm down as Homelander moaned louder calling his name inside desperate whispers– fuck…”

He pressed the right spots, twisting his back as he sped up his rutting, feeling sweat drops down his nose as he got closer and closer to cumming, as his fingers dug deeper enough to bring that pleasurable pressure, gasping as the pain had started to become so unbearable.

“Quit.”

“No!” He stopped throwing the pillow against the wall, turning on his back, breathing heavily.

“John… Come meet me in the bathrooms… now.”

“You giving up?”

“No.”

“Then I am getting a cold shower.”

“John if you don’t come meet me in the bathrooms I’ll go find somebody else to join me.”

He didn’t like that tone… he used it so much on Robert it was no surprise the actor had learned it worked both ways, Homelander sat on the bed, putting his suit on after dousing his groin with cold water, glad the padding hid his half-mast.

Flying out the balcony and hopping back to their party searching for him amongst the crowd of drunks.

Maeve caught him coming back, caught the fluster in his step and the flush on his cheek under the coloured light.

Biting her lips, knowing what was happening… she should’ve known that when these two knuckleheads got together they would either try to out-bitch each other or play their stupid dirty game…

She used to wonder if he would make her less miserable if he had been able to be with Robert, if his anger and obsession wasn’t fueled by projection… Neither man could’ve ever been together, and he had taken it out on her, obsessing on the only woman in his eyes (supposedly).

Maeve knew just how hungry they were… touch starved… letting their hands touch just never for too long just constant light brushes… just bumping shoulders here and there for a second too long… Maeve at least found joy in seeing him suffer even if it was returned to her x10 worse.

She took a glass, a canape and followed him discreetly.

He entered the empty bathroom, tapping on each cubicle as if he was a mere human finding nothing until the last stall.

Sitting on the disabled toilet with his ankle over his knee and two glasses of champagne.

“So romantic.”

Placing the glasses on his sides, he dug into his breast pocket to pull out a flower head, extending his fingers towards him– slightly wilted and small, a once vibrant rose bud… but just as fragrant as the rest.

Showing up at his penthouse always carrying roses, making him know what those pretty women in the movies felt when their hands were filled with a bouquet… Homelander had gotten plenty in his life… given many as well… so the magic should've died out... yet here he was a twenty-two year old sheltered boy swallowing nervously as his cheeks heat up in front of the boy he liked.

Jittery and bashful from a single rose… just small enough he could hide it in his jacket… no matter where they would go… if he could get away with it… if he knew he could… Robert would make his heart flutter.

He picked him by the collar, scrunching the fine fabric of his suit before risking it all on his lips, Tek Knight took a second to react, entertaining his hands as they leap towards the exposed flesh of his neck, digging into his scalp as their tongues twist.

Slamming themselves on the wall letting the unlocked door rock back and forth, Homelander's lips plump as he suckles and licks every ridge, alcohol and peppermint pungent on his tongue, wanting to savor him, wanting to swallow every drop of drool of Robert’s tongue, wanting so desperately to fill this anguish.

Kissing him was the cure to a million ailments, it filled him with just as much happiness as it made him die… it was agonizing knowing how much his body wanted Tek… how much it missed him, his breath could’ve been sulfur and he would would’ve choke on it gladly… just agony… if he could be that foolish young man again to try to change time... Homelander still wouldn’t hesitate jumping back into this car wreck, he would hurt himself on this soft silky lips over and over again.

Tek pressed his knee in-between his tights, dropping his hands over his arms, ripping the gloves with force until his naked hands rubbed against each other, his left fingers latch on the zipper pulling it to feel more skin, wanting to feel the buttery feeling of Homelander’s being.

Homelander returned the favor, skillfully opening his shirt, knowing he couldn’t just rip it off– that had been hard to explain before.

Feeling every hurried heartbeat against his hand, feeling every inch of hardened muscle on his smooth chest.

“Want to call it quits, John?” He sussurated into his neck, suckling on the crumbs of heat he could get– come on, sugar. I want you so fucking bad… I want to die inside you…” tracing his chin the tip of his tongue, Homelandeer shuddered whining as the pain in his pants grew unbearable once more, crying into his hand as Tek Knight licked his ear– I want you to fuck me so fucking hard I’ll need crutches.”

“Robert!” he hissed, pulling his head wanting to kiss him more, quick pecks laughing quietly into him, panting constellations into his neck– give up and I’ll make you feel like fucking Madonna.”

He parted, taking a pair of steps back stopped by the toilet’s edge, close to coming undone.

“Lower your pants. Game hasn’t ended.”

He undoes his belt letting it flop on his sides, teasing him as he takes his sweet time lowering his zipper… he’s hard, twitching in the warm air. Homelander doesn’t copy him turning towards the exit, brushing close enough to tease the man, hands quickly grab him by the hip pressing himself against him, rubbing his length on America.

“I want to make this more fun, you pervert.”

He pushes the door, leaving him behind, stopping by the basin, a wide grin on his face.

“Fuck that stupid fucking glass. You and your weird hole kink… You know Knight… I find your thing funny so amuse me…why else bring those here– You know I don’t drink.”

“To celebrate my victory of course.”

It had been a gradual thing, to witness his fixation evolve, that naivety inside Homelander had wilted into bitterness and seeing Tek’s humiliating exploits almost comforted him… that he broke without him.

They would never be more than a rendezvou, they clung to each other wanting to make every second longer than before, parted by the wild current they still swummed against it, hoping to meet in the middle, content to just brush their fingertips.

Over the years as time settled on them while their hearts remained inmature, Homelander had noticed this unusual proclivity, it began as simple fascination, pensive stares, fingers caught drawing circles repeatedly, burning his finger as it follows the edge over and over… watching him fuck a tree engrossed him, cackling as he got worse and worse, he had been so good that he can’t find pleasure in people anymore– he thought.

Wishing it was him.

Homelander cocked his head watching the man spill on the floor, bucking his hips, hissing and gasping as the bubbly fizzles around his sensitive head and his hole, tickled by the fizz in a way a tongue could never, it was growing warm and sticky, as he pushed the expensive drink with his girth, the cold made him shudder now the smooth wet glass licked his cock back.

Homelander leaned down whistling to catch his attention.

Robert stops abruptly– Homelander bare it all.

It was hard to believe there was a time where he was shy and nervous, where he had to teach him what to do, where he was too afraid to bend over for him, now he purred as his fingers teased his entrance, pushing in, stretching himself just a tad– Robert mouth watered, wanting to bury his face in there, the glass no longer as appealing.

With his belt dragging on his ankles, he quickly found himself on his knees.

Homelander gasped– guess he wasn’t the only one allowed to play dirty, he thought. One hand firmly using a glass fleshlight and the other spreading his cheek, Tek squeezed and slapped as his tongue drew circles, as it reached deeper, slobbering into his chin… the taste strong and salty.

Homelander had to hold the base of his cock, leaking pre-cum into the polished floors.

“This is the women’s bathroom.”

Both men flinched, eyes and muscles ready to neutralize the threat yet all Tek Knight could muster was a shrug before returning back to his meal.

Homelander twisted his back, careless fingers vaguely attempting to push him away, stifling a laugh as he stares back at Maeve, she looks at the exit knowing there’s a passerby in the hall cursing at the out of service sign.

“Please tell me you haven’t killed anybody tonight.”

Homelander shook his head biting his lip as Tek sped up his tongue, lowering it until he was suckling on the sensitive perineum, biting it, and kissing it, not stopping as he stared at Maeve briefly, not hiding his annoyance.

Back then she was the one next to him in the magazines… always running after her… she was the one that was the most special, she was the one that understood him the best, who suited him best… horseshit, he told himself.

“Only 1 person, my bad.” Tek Knight kisses his ass standing up, pulling his pants with one hand and carrying the glass with the other– I quit.” He grumbled.

Coming into the champagne glass, looking at his load as it mixed with some bubbly before leaving it on the sink.

He took to the basin after taking a handful of paper towels, washing his hands without care while soaking the towels.

“Hey…” Homelander took his shoulder.

“What?”

“You can’t just quit!?”

“I can’t stand her.” His smile is still so charming as he speaks, looking down as the washes off the sticky champagne stains off his groin– go! be a tattle-tell if you like Maeve… nobody its gonna fucking believe you.”

“Don’t be like that… Maeve isn’t going to do such thing… right, Maeve?”

“Don’t care. You can have him now if you want, Ms. Cockblocker.”

Before Meave could answer back, she was met with an accusatory finger on her face, Tek zipped his pants after doing half the job, just clean enough that he could survive whatever was left ot the afterparty but Homelander wouldn’t let him leave, his hand pulling on his elbow keeping him firmly in his presence.

“Ignore her… we always did love an audience.” He turned to Maeve– you stay right there and keep watch, understand?” He growled, eyes flickering red towards her direction.

“What do you want anyways?” He said still miffed but relaxing around Homelander’s grip.

“Just making sure you two weren’t going to be covered in blood… dunno if you know this Knight but there’s a lot going on right now.”

“Yeah right. You just wanted to ruin my fun… like you always do.”

“You think I want your se–

“Both of you shut up! Maeve learn to mind your own business and you don’t antagonize her… she’s here because she wants to watch that’s why! She has what three bottles in her already!”

“Two and a half… fuck you drink a lot of merlot.” He seemed disgusted at the choice– please tell me you had the moscato, it was simply refreshing!”

“I don’t like moscato.” she chuckles– and am not drunk, I'm tipsy.” she laughs with a sleepy smile.

“You’re just another pervert who wants to see his ex get fucked in the ass by his other ex... so be quiet and enjoy the show."

She tried to wipe that shit eating grin on her face.

“Forget about her and just think of me… I want you… I won… so my price is you sucking me off…” He took his face stroking his neck, forcing him to look directly at him– Robert…”

“You didn’t win. I quit. That means the price is null…” both looked so needy, Robert's darkened eyes almost pleading him to make him stay where his lips couldn't.– suck me off first… please, baby… I’m upset.”

“No, you sore loser…”

“You’re so cruel.” He moped.

Homelander rolled his eyes taking the glass before skulking the contents, Robert got hard immediately, watching Homelander lick the rim clean before forcing him into a salty sweet kiss.

Cum frothing from the friction.

They danced their way back into the cubicle, grinning as the toilet lid squeaked under his weight, Homelander threw his boots and his tights off with enviable effortlessness giving Mr. Vernon plenty to take a hold off, he squeezed his thin legs, savoring the velvety texture, his cock hard and leaking, Tek took it giving it a few pumps, licking his taste off lips with anticipation, his mind solely focused on John, Maeve ceased to exist even if the stench of merlot didn’t, he only wanted this.

“Thanks baby.”

“Only because you’re cute, John.”

Throwing his head back as the other man took his manhood, slurping and swallowing, each stroke followed by his mouth, Homelander placing his hand firmly on his neck pushing him further, he could feel him chuckle against his length.

Homelander came hard and embarassingly quick, whimpering as he buckled his hips.

But Robert was glad regardless.

Tek didn’t stop moving his lips, wanting him to grind his teeth some more, he let it out with a wet pop, gasping with a satisfied smile, kissing his legs and thighs wishing to leave hickeys and burns.

“You swallowed.” He sounded so disappointed it touched the other’s heartstrings with guilt.

“My turn.”

Tek pushed him back, standing up weakly, leaning to his side to take the second glass of champagne he had left on the floor before.

“Lick it.”

Homelander obliged, licking the edge creasing his nose as the fizz got on his nostrils.

Maeve grimace was short lived, Homelander hand tugged on that pesky belt, pulling him out once more, stroking him roughly, as his tongue parted his lover’s needless toy.

Maeve sat not minding if her skirt got damp, biting her lips as she saw the blonde get on his knees.

Transfixed as she watched his head bobbed, clenching her legs as the man sung loudly, they spoke with only looks, whispering to each other, Robert encouraging him, to look past the flavor, Homelander groaned, displeased but he would cooed him, coaxed him to keep going, coaxing gently to take it deeper, playing with his hair as the man flat tongue made him see the runnign waters of the river styx, rutting his hips into his throat as he saw death welcoming him.

Maeve hand stroked her clit, taking short breath as she tried to not make a sound, her pussy soaking her fingers as she traveled a little further, wanting to fill herself with anything but not wanting to make a show for the bastards either.

Maeve had to look away, she had peeked into something forbidden. It seems for Homelander had leaped into his mouth, kissing him, burning him, Tek was seeing stars, the mixture of salt and french sweetness coating his tongue.

Craning his back as the other man’s weight pulled him down– he saw his John from all those years ago, how nervous his hand was, cupping his cheek, searching for cues to deepen their kiss, to know Robert had wanted him just as much as he had.

He always had.

Fame, fortune and the admiration of many didn’t compare to being Homelander’s.

He wished he hadn’t been greedy.

He wished he had been happy to just be the mistress.

He wished he hadn’t been the clever one that turned to that once naive boy and told him that it could never be.

He had to cut him out of him like he was cancer.

No matter how much he wanted him, no matter how much it hurt to see him running after that redhead.

He looked up to catch her, smelling her arousal and regret.

“Come to my loft… John… just for tonite…” he susurrated– I want to be yours…”

Homelander smiled, half lid eyes and bruised lips gave him a soft yes.

Maeve ran out the bathroom wanting to find something to wash away the confused feeling in her stomach, thinking of that cute publicist that had been eyeing her all night.

Robert’s ear followed her heels, as John kissed him while fixing himself doing just enough of a good job that cameras wouldn’t notice how disheveled he was, he had done a good job considering he hadn’t stopped kissing his lover for most of the ordeal.

“I’ll be a good boy and get the bath ready for when you get home, Tek.”

“I’ll get the condoms on my way home then.”

“Why? We are gonna run out of them anyhoo” he growled into him, licking Tek's lower lip, gnawing on him until a scarlet drop fell on his tongue– see ya in a jiffy, Robert.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“I’ll go first.”

Homelander rolled his eyes, kissing him goodbye for the time being.

Ignoring the crowds as they both left to attend more pressing matters.

Glad to meet again as if they were just those hopeful stupid kids yet again.

#homelander #tek knight #homelander fanfiction #tek knight fanfiction #the boys fanfiction #my fic tag #personal #cozy corner kinktober #homelader x tek knight #homeknight?#Hometek?#TekHome?#not proofread sorry #I am esl sorry for grammar #hometek #holelander

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localplaguenurse · 1 year

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Hello friend from the country of maples. I have come asking for headcanons for the pants man because it is almost 4am and he is living in my brain rent free.

I would like to blame Hamilton the musical because I googled the difference between “My dearest Angelica,” and “My dearest, Angelica” and at first i thought “huh Morax would do this to wifey” and then a little throwaway like from a ZhongChi fanfic made me realize Pantalone would ALSO do this to his beloved and as the musical goes “consumed my waking days”

Oh my god Al Haitham would do this too.

Guess I’m not sleeping

Headcanons for pants? Headcanons for pants?

I love you, also go to bed pls.

Because you didn't specify what kind of headcanons I'm just gonna throw down whatever I got off the top of my head rn that I didn't include in the health headcanons. Also just fyi I flip flop between certain headcanons mostly because there isn't enough info about him at this very moment, so it's kinda like "what flavour of pants do I crave today?"

ANYWAYS pants time

For a while I headcanoned him as like 27-28 at the absolute youngest because the limited information we have about him gave me young hotshot entrepreneur "thirty under 30" vibes.

Like I can so clearly in a modern AU see his face plastered all over magazines about this young man who worked his ass off to go from rags to riches. (I'm thinking about Bruce Wayne in the opening from Arkham City. "It's billionaire, Vicki. Millionaires are so last year.")

He is unrecognizable from his youth counterpart today. He was this scrawny child, hair matted and tangled and perpetually dirty. Always had some bruises and cuts and scrapes, crooked teeth, the works. With all the money in his pocket, he's been able to afford top of the line medical care, dental treatments, expensive luxury soaps and shampoos, and only the finest of clothing. It's astounding but also horrifying to see how different the two are.

It's not necessarily his favourite food but his comfort foods are whatever super cheap fresh hot meals he could get his hands on. He still thinks back to the very first actually expensive meal he bought with his own money every now and again.

He would never admit this, of course. They'd all laugh at him if they found out he enjoyed peasant meals.

On occasion, though, he will remake one of these really cheap meals for a midnight snack.

He's not a bad cook, it's just all the meals he knows how to make are less about flavour and more about practicality/edibility. That said, though, he knows how to make a meal made from like five ingredients not only last for quite a while, but also taste really good.

Sugar daddy material, he would love nothing more than to spoil his darling rotten, HOWEVER he is not interested in someone only dating him for his money. He wants someone who will let him pamper them, but will also be there in the event everything falls apart and he once again has nothing.

Constantly has to remind everyone that the Northland Bank is SEPERATE from the Fatui. He needs everyone to know that the success of the bank is not because of the Fatui, it's because of him. Vice versa, while the bank's success may have gotten the attention of the Fatui, him becoming a harbinger is because he worked his ass off to get that position.

There is no information on his family or if he even has one, but you know how Lucio from The Arcana has that portrait of his mother all dressed up in regal attire, despite the fact he was raised in a tribe? I think Pantalone would have a bunch of portraits of his family all over his manor(s) sort of like that.

If he ever has kids, he would be so torn between spoiling them because he certainly has the money to do that, but he also cannot stand the snobby little brats of his business partners and does not want his children acting like that.

This is just really random but for some reason All Hail the Fishmen from Lisa The Painful gives me pants vibes and I cannot explain why

And... Yeah! That's it rn, unless you wanna hear about my oc/pants' knife wife Xue, or you have specific headcanons in mind.

#genshin impact #pantalone #genshin pantalone #pantalone genshin #pantalone headcanons #genshin headcanons #genshin impact pantalone #headcanons #ask

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multifandomimagines · 1 year

Text

All I Want for Christmas - A Steve Harrington Imagine

Characters: Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 3410

Summary: The annual Christmas-themed Hawkins Middle School dance is fast approaching, but while they should be volunteering, Steve and the Reader spend their time with each other instead.

Warnings: Slight swearing, suggestive ending + angst - topics surrounding a previous breakup, as well as a mention of a bad relationship with parents.

Written by: Jasper

A/N: we’re back!!! we missed you guys SO much. i absolutely LOVED writing for steve and stranger things! our requests are always open, so if you love this as much as i loved writing it (as well as any of our other posts), please please please check out our requests post and send over your requests! merry christmas and happy holidays! <3

p.s. peep our new feature that we’ll sometimes be adding to our works! listen after or while you’re reading for the full experience 👀 ⤵️

Soundtrack: ‘Snow On The Beach’ by Taylor Swift ft. Lana Del Rey 🌨️

Disclaimer: GIF isn’t ours - credit to whoever it belongs to.

Snow Ball, 1984.

Given everything that happened a month ago, Y/N should have felt elated to go and help out at the school dance; to act like everything was okay just for a night, to feel normal again, but she surprisingly felt quite the opposite. She begged and pleaded, more than she ever had in her whole life, to just stay home, but her mother refused with a swift, “You’ll regret it when you’re older.”

“She’s making me go,” Y/N whispered over the phone, peering around the corner to make sure her mother wasn’t eavesdropping from the living room.

“I don’t know, Y/N,” Steve Harrington’s voice came through the ear speaker. Her and the once snobby rich boy formed an unusual bond after last month’s troubling events. Going through something as traumatic as that certainly ties you to someone for life, and she guessed that was what ultimately made them become the best of friends so quickly. They came to each other for everything since then, and she would be lying if she said that she hadn’t formed a crush on him that first night… But he was just out of a heart-wrenching breakup, so she (as hard as it may be) kept quiet as to not make him feel uncomfortable or ruin their budding friendship, which meant so much to her already. “I guess it could be kind of nice for you…”

“Jesus Christ, not you too—” she rolled her eyes, aggressively leaning into the wall.

“I’m just saying,” his voice was muffled through the phone, seemingly because he put it between his ear and shoulder. “you haven’t been the same since… everything…”

“Of course I haven’t, Steve… Who would?” Y/N answered, frustration and impatience apparent in her voice. He stayed quiet, prompting her to remember all the times he has acted as if nothing had ever even happened, “Well, not everyone can be Mr. Perfect Steve Harrington who-ignores-all-his-problems.”

“I think we’ve established that no one thinks I’m Mr. Perfect,” he chuckled insincerely, hinting at what had happened between him and Nancy Wheeler a month prior. The two had gone through a rather nasty breakup— the boy was devastated, seemingly never quite moving on. The girl, however, moving on not even a couple days later, contributing greatly to Steve’s heartbreak.

I do, Y/N so desperately wanted to say, but instead she kept quiet, an awkward silence falling over the two them.

“Okay, I’ll tell you what,” Steve said, cutting through the quiet tension. “I’m taking Dustin to the dance— why don’t I come around, pick you up too, you can make yourself look all pretty or whatever, and then you can sorta lie to your mom; act like you’re going to the dance, but in reality, you’re just hanging out with me.”

“Are you asking me to the dance, Harrington?” Y/N laughed, trying to make Steve flustered. “And did you just call me pretty?”

“Technically, I’m asking you to ditch the dance and hangout with me instead,” he replied, making no mention of the pretty comment.

After a moment of thinking, “Fine. But you have to stay in the car, I don’t need my parents asking you any weird questions— we all know you’re awful at lying.”

“Deal.”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

The night of the Snow Ball fast approached, and before Y/N knew it, the night had arrived. For hours beforehand, she had hastily gotten ready, trying to make herself look absolutely perfect. She wasn’t exactly certain why— sure, she had a crush on Steve and she would have made herself look nice for him anyways, but she wasn’t attending the dance, so was it really necessary to make herself so dance-ready? Picking out shoes that would be perfect for dancing, even picking out a flowy dress perfect for dancing?

“Y/N! Your date is here!” the girl’s mother called from the living room. “Is that really what he’s wearing to the dance?!”

“For the last time, Mom, he’s not technically my date…” Y/N answered, hurriedly rushing past her unbothered father sitting in his recliner, grabbing her bag off the coat hanger and opening the door. “Also it’s 1984, don’t judge other people’s attire. Bye, love you!”

“Is he not coming to meet us?—” was the last thing she heard before abruptly closing the door behind her, practically running to Steve’s car in the process.

She jumped in the backseat, “Step on it— Oh, hey, Dustin! I almost didn’t recognize you.”

The younger boy sat in the passenger, looking small in comparison to the older boy in the driver’s seat. His outfit was the epitome of the 1980s, puffy hair, bow tie and all. She wondered briefly if Steve had helped him get ready or if Dustin had done this all on his own. She looked over to Steve as Dustin greeted her, her attentiveness dying out instantly, no longer hearing a word the younger boy was saying.

Steve’s eyes were on her, and by the looks of it, they seemed to have been on her. The air between them suddenly felt on edge like never before— the way he looked at her made her heart hammer faster and faster against her ribcage; so loud that there was surely no way the other two couldn’t have heard it. His eyes sparkled in the dimming light as he took deep breaths, clearly mesmerized— well, until Dustin’s growing voice and finger snapping cut through the tension, “HELLO?! You two are going to make me late! Stare at each other later, it’s already getting dark!”

Steve pulled himself together first, slapping Dustin playfully on the arm, “We weren’t staring, smartass. OKAY, OKAY! I’m driving! Jesus Christ, you’re such a—”

But Y/N never really pulled herself together. The whole car ride to the dance was a blur, she didn’t even truly hear what the other two were saying. All she could focus on was the memory of his eyes on her, the look on his face, and the way she absolutely melted underneath his gaze. She was oddly quiet the rest of the ride, and Steve noticed— his eyes frequently shifting to the rearview mirror above him to glimpse back at her.

Quickly, she realized that the Hawkins Middle School building was emerging ahead of them; street lights and traffic finally snapping her out of her trance. Sitting up straight and leaning forward, she rested her forearms on the center console as Steve pulled the car around front, directly adjacent of the entrance doors. People streamed into the building in mostly pairs, all dressed head to toe in formal attire.

“All right, buddy, here we are…” Steve’s voice cut through the silence. Both him and Dustin looked to the doors, Dustin’s lingering on them a bit longer than Steve’s. “So, remember, once you get in there…”

Dustin looked back to Steve, nervousness somewhat apparent on his face. “Pretend like I don’t care.”

“You don’t care,”

“I don’t care.”

“There you go. You’re learning, my friend. You’re learning.”

“Oh, Jesus Christ— are you actually teaching him that?!” Y/N scoffed in disbelief, interrupting the other two’s somewhat heartfelt conversation, laughter choking out from her throat.

“What do you know?” Steve replied, turning around in his seat to directly look at her for the first time since the start of the journey. His brazen gaze softened the moment his eyes landed on hers.

“I know that acting like you don’t care makes you look like an asshole—”

Dustin reached for the rearview mirror as the older two playfully argued (which was such a common occurrence at this point, to which everyone else just simply ignored) and snapping it rather hastily in his direction.

Steve looked back at the sudden noise, “Hey—”

“What?” Dustin replied, still glancing anxiously at himself in the mirror above him.

Steve grabbed the mirror from Dustin, pulling it back into his direction, “Come on, you look great, okay? You look— you look great.”

Dustin assured Steve that he was hearing what he was saying, but it seemed more like assurance to himself than anyone else. He more or less looked like he was about to cry— he looked frightened, almost as if he wished he could just stay in the car forever and never have to step foot through those daunting doors.

“Dustin, take it from a girl, okay?” Y/N said, reassuring the terrified younger boy. Steve smiled to himself. “You genuinely look amazing. How about you save me a dance for when we pick you up later, yeah?”

Dustin nodded, signifying he was listening despite him looking to the floor.

“Okay, you’re gonna go in there…” Steve said.

“Yeah…”

“Look like a million bucks—”

“Yeah,”

“And you’re gonna slay ‘em dead.”

“Like a lion,” Dustin replied, a newfound confidence in his voice. Suddenly, his mouth opened and a purring noise came out, issuing both Y/N and Steve to nervously glance at each other.

“Yeah… don’t do that, okay?” Steve said as Dustin stared back at him, doe-eyed.

“Okay,”

Steve reached out a loving hand to him, “Good luck.”

Dustin took it, a slight smile on his face. He nodded, turned, then exited the car. Both Steve and Y/N watched as Dustin walked into the building hesitantly, but more confidently as he started to speak to someone that Y/N couldn’t see. Then, awkward silence washed over them as they both watched through the doors, neither of them saying a single word to another.

She looked to Steve out of her peripheral, realizing that he had spotted something, a relatively distressed look apparent on his face, unalike the smile he had merely moments before.

“Steve?” she said gently, worrying what she would see if she put herself at his level. “You okay?”

After he didn’t answer, she leaned forward, eyes instantly falling on Nancy Wheeler. She looked absolutely beautiful, talking and laughing with attendees as they came to her for a cup of punch. Steve visibly didn’t know that Nancy was volunteering tonight— the thought of going from knowing everything about someone, to knowing nothing, appeared to hurt him greatly. She was happy, which must have pained Steve even more— he hadn’t seemed genuinely happy himself in so long. But knowing Steve, Y/N knew that it was bittersweet to him— he was happy that Nancy was happy, and to him, that’s all that really, truly mattered.

Turning away, hiding the pang of jealousy and hurt that she felt by this, Y/N acted as if she hadn’t seen what he was looking at. Instead, she hopped up into the passenger seat next to him, minding her dress, and looked over at him. She was now unknowingly blocking his view of Nancy, yet he didn’t really mind it. Honestly… he grew to like it better this way.

Y/N was always there for him; she was there through the thick of last month, saving his ass that night more than he cared to admit. She was there through the aftermath of the breakup; all the times he tried to hide his tears from her in fear that she would make fun of him, yet she never did. She’d even let him stay over on nights that his parents made him so furious he couldn’t even be in the same house as them. She was there through it all, yet Nancy hardly did the same. Y/N was better for him, and he was finally starting to realize it.

“You okay?” the girl asked again sincerely, her eyes glistening in the low light as she watched him closely.

The boy exhaled and looked away, shook his head, more so to himself than her, and shifted his gear from parked to driving, “For the first time in awhile, I’m okay.”

He drove around the side of the school and parked. The parking lot was now deserted of other people despite the amount of vehicles that resided in spots, their owners clearly dancing the night away inside the building, abandoned until hours later.

The two of them exited the car, walking around and taking a seat on the back. That seemed to be one of the things they did these days; parking off somewhere and sitting on the hood or trunk and having deep conversations. Y/N cherished those perfect moments, she was sure she cherished them a bit more than Steve did considering her feelings, but nonetheless, she was sure he adored them too, even if not the same way she did.

“You sure you’re okay? You looked pretty… blindsided back there—” Y/N hesitantly said, shifting her position to look at him. She feared he would be upset with her for bringing it up again. She braced for a sarcastic remark… but none ever came.

He looked back up, his dark hair falling over his forehead in pieces. He looked so innocently back at her, no sign of hurt or annoyance at her question. His voice was gentle, “More than okay.”

She chuckled, “Well, that’s a start. Why the change of heart?”

“You, actually.” He replied, his voice soft, unlike she’s ever heard it before. “It’s always been you.”

Her breathing shallowed, her heart beginning to palpitate. Was he meaning what she thought he was? Or was she simply looking too far into it? “I don’t understand—”

“You know,” he begin. “I can’t remember the last time Nancy asked me if I was okay, or simply cared if I was, if I’m being honest.”

Y/N simply sat and listened, not daring to say a single word or make him lose his train of thought.

“It was always me asking her if she was okay, always only caring about her and her well-being. I lost sight of myself and how I was doing, all just to make her happy… but I never got it in return.” he continued, looking out at the empty parking lot, remembering memories that he was trying so hard the past few weeks to forget. “I mean, I don’t blame her. She’s always had her own shit going on. I don’t know— I guess what I’m trying to say is… it’s been nice having someone care about me for once. You know, ask how I’m doing and all that shit. Maybe all this time I’ve just been focusing on someone who never really wanted me in the first place, while someone who’s been there for me since day one was getting the short end of the stick.”

“Steve—” Y/N began to say, the words dying out in her throat. Her comforting hand came to rest atop his beside them, their fingers slightly intertwining. Her eyes scanned his face, looking for any sign of hesitation or regret. Yet, there was none…

“You’re beautiful,” Steve spoke delicately, looking up from their embracing hands to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize it.”

“We still have time.” she smiled, squeezing his hand a bit tighter. She dreamt of this moment for so long, yet when it finally came, she felt as if she couldn’t speak properly; all the words she imagined saying to him died out in her throat the moment it was finally happening. It wasn’t just a dream this time— it was real life.

“I’m sorry— Jesus Christ, I haven’t even asked how you feel—” he backtracked, shaking his head, frustrated with himself. “I just assumed—”

“Are you kidding, Steve?” Y/N replied as he looked to her nervously. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

He smiled, relief washing over his face in waves. This was atypical for Steve Harrington— not only the anxiousness he exuded in those few moments, but also the way he poured his entire heart out. Y/N was sure he must have done it with Nancy; he’d even done it with other topics to Y/N, but never in this way. Never so vulnerable— she figured that was the perfect word to describe it: Vulnerable.

Steve had changed so much over the past month. He was broken and bruised (even quite literally at one point), so much that it changed him. He was worried that Y/N didn’t feel the same— he had always just assumed Nancy did, but that didn’t turn out well for him now, did it? No, he needed to be absolutely sure this time.

“Y/N, are you sure?” Steve asked, glancing back at her hand atop his. “I can’t go through it again…”

Her lips met his, gently but urgently, washing away all of the doubts and insecurities swirling around in his head. In that moment, he forgot about Nancy wholeheartedly, forgot about every bad thing that had ever happened to him, even forgetting how him and Y/N got to this point. The only thing that mattered was the destination; her lips were soft moving against his, her hands caressing his skin in innocent places that she’d never touched him before.

Steve’s fingers came up to lace through her hair delicately, pulling her closer than ever. He ached to feel her nearer to him, to embrace her wholly, after so long of not knowing what that felt like.

He pulled away first, cold air replacing the heat of where his lips were mere seconds previously. Her senses on high alert, Y/N realized the music from inside the building could be faintly heard, interrupting the quiet of the dark, abandoned lot. Every Breath You Take was vaguely audible, the vibe of the dance changing drastically. She imagined the dance attendees slow dancing with another, taking the opportunity to kiss and be close to each other.

Steve jumped off the back of the car, held out a hand to her and said, “You didn’t think I’d let you come to a dance without making you dance with me, did you?”

She chuckled, smiling to herself, happiness overtaking her for the first time in awhile, “Not letting Dustin get the first dance with me, huh?”

“Never in a million years,” Steve joked. “you’re mine now.”

“I could get used to that…” Y/N flirted, taking his outstretched hand in hers.

The two found themselves embracing, slow dancing, spinning, playfully joking, until it got comfortably quiet between them. They basked in each other’s presence, feeling happier than they’ve felt in a long while. It was hard to imagine this any other way— it felt as if it had been this way between them forever.

She rested her head atop his shoulder, pulling him close and wrapping her arms around him. They both shut their eyes, the comfortable silence giving way to the song faintly coming to an end inside of the school. The moment felt bittersweet— both of them wishing it could last forever.

After a long pause, Y/N opened her eyes first, noticing that the scenery had slightly changed around them. A thin white sheet covered the ground and the cars residing in their respective spots, white flakes falling gently out of the sky.

“Steve—” she spoke, lightly backing out from his embrace. She glanced around them, “It’s snowing.”

He opened his eyes, both of them immediately landing on her, not bothering to even look out at the snow. As cheesy as it sounded in his head, she was more beautiful than anything nature could possibly do, and he didn’t want to miss her most of all.

He tucked a snow covered strand of hair out of her face, making her look to him. A smile formed on her mouth as his lips met hers for a second time, snow falling all around them like minuscule, twinkling stars.

“Hey…” Steve whispered, lips resting against Y/N’s. “How about we go back to my place? Pick Dustin up in a couple hours, yeah?”

“Mhm,” she replied, grinning, finally opening her eyes to meet his once again. “hey, wait— what happened to acting like you don’t care?”

Steve, remembering the advice he had just given Dustin less than a half an hour before, snickered, “Yeah, well, that was minutes ago— I’m a changed man now.”

She laughed, making a face at him as they got back into his car. They drove off to his house as Christmas music played vaguely over the radio, hands tenderly held near the stick shift, stealing glances at each other on well-lit streets.

As it turned out, her mother had been right in someway all along; Y/N would have regretted this night for the rest of her life if she hadn’t gone. As much as she hated to admit it, school dances, or lack thereof, turned out to not be so bad after all.

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