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#in celebration of me getting my peripherals back
katerina-marie · 3 days
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The Hot Mic Incident (Feel Like Falling in Love)
Sukuna x Reader
A sequel to this and part 2 of a larger (unnamed) series. I do recommend reading part 1 first to be able to understand certain references in this one.
If someone asked you who was most likely to accidentally spill the beans about your new (and still secret) relationship with Sukuna, your answer would have to be your white-haired co-star. But when an unintentional hot mic reveals to the world what wasn't ready to be shared, let's just say it wasn't Gojo Satoru at fault for once.
Notes: A continuation of my Sukuna x Reader celebrity!au inspired by music (though only loosely, so don't look too closely at lyrical meaning). In this case, it's Feel Like Falling in Love by MeloMance. I'm writing this series as inspiration strikes, so these fics may not always be posted according to the series' linear timeline. I will make sure to note when each chapter takes place in relation to the others (this one takes place a couple months after part 2). I will also get around to making a master list of them in chronological reading order as more comes. I hope you enjoy:)
Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo, other favorites who have small supporting rolls, all fluff, crack, and humor, innuendos, illusions to sexting, but no actual sexting occurs (sorry), so please read accordingly, out of character and fluffy Sukuna. Please let me know if I miss something!
WC: 4.3k
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“Isn’t it a little early in the morning to be sending naughty pictures to your boyfriend? It’s like 7:00 am.” 
You jumped half a foot in the air and clambered to juggle your phone in your hands before it tumbled out and slid four feet across the backstage floor of the talk show studio. 
“You need to be wearing a bell, Satoru,” you hissed over your shoulder at the menace that had appeared behind you so suddenly, “and it was not an inappropriate photo. I was completely dressed.” 
You teetered over in your heels to grab your phone off the floor and prayed that it wasn’t cracked down the middle, lest you make Satoru cough up punitive damages to make up for it. 
“In my experience, being fully clothed is not a prohibiting factor.”
Satoru snickered at the look of disgust on your face and gave you a small shrug, “Who knows, maybe Sukuna’s into th—,”
You threw yourself forward to try and cover his mouth with your hands, but even in heels you still lacked the necessary height to make contact. You settled for pinning him in place with a glare.
“Will you keep quiet please? I swear, if you and your fat mouth reveal this to anyone, I’m going to have Toji leak that photo of you from one of our nights working on that period piece last year!”
You watched with glee as Satoru’s eyes widened in abject horror, and he reached out to grip the tops of your arms and drag you close to his face. A quick peek from your peripheral confirmed that the staff lingering around the studio probably hadn’t been close enough to hear, but they were certainly watching with poorly disguised interest. 
Were you and Satoru contracted into a false relationship in order to help promote the upcoming movie the two of you were co-starring in? No, that only happened in fiction. Was it firmly implied by the producer that some offscreen tension and chemistry during the course of the film would promise to be advantageous to you both? Yes, and you presumed that in the pursuit of a paycheck some simple flirting couldn’t hurt anyone…though that was a year or so ago, and you were now closer to sending Satoru to an early grave than jumping in bed with him like fans and media were hoping for. 
“Suguru swore he made you delete any evidence of that!” 
You stuck your tongue out at him and pulled back against the hold he had on your arms, but he didn’t loosen his grip in the slightest. 
“He did, but didn’t bother to check with Toji. Looks like that weird phobia you two have of him is coming to bite you in the ass now.” 
Satoru released you with a shiver and took a large step back, his eyes roaming the expanse of the studio as if he expected your bodyguard to be summoned out of thin air at the sheer mention of his name. You didn’t blame him, however, because Toji had a habit of doing just that. 
“It’s not a weird phobia,” Satoru muttered, rubbing his throat absentmindedly and pouting down at you, “it’s PTSD.” 
You snorted. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“It was too!” Satoru cried, “He punched me in the throat and nearly sent Suguru through a wall!” 
“You and your idiot manager were trying to break into my house at 2:00am, drunk as skunks I might add! What did you think was going to happen? We barely knew each other then.” 
Satoru looked down at you aghast, stunned that you didn’t sympathize with his emotions. You considered it even more bewildering that he seriously thought that you would pick his side. You were about to let him know such when your phone dinged twice in quick succession, effectively capturing your attention. 
“Look,” you huffed at him, waving your phone in front of his face so he could catch a glimpse of the time (and hopefully ignore who’s name had popped up under it), “we only have like thirty more minutes before we have to get out there and I need some time to decompress, so I’m going back to the dressing room.” You started to turn away before throwing over your shoulder, “Don’t get into any trouble in the meantime.” 
Satoru rolled his eyes at you, and—in that intolerable way of his—couldn’t let you possibly have the last dig at him and jerked his head to the phone in your hand. 
“It’s not me I’m worried about. Have fun sext—,” 
“Goodbye, Satoru!” You made yourself scarce before he could say anything else, eager to find the privacy of your dressing room so you could fawn over your boyfriend in peace. 
By the time you made it into the safety of your dressing room a few minutes later, your heart was pounding—and not just from getting lost in all the maze-like hallways—and you tried to decide if hiding in the attached closet to talk with Sukuna on the phone or sitting on the couch in the open with a lovesick grin on your face would look less suspicious should someone walk in. Neither option promised much. 
Before you could make up your mind, your phone was ringing, so in order to be able to answer the call as quickly as you could, you dove for the couch and tried not to sound completely breathless when you answered with a quiet, “hi, good morning.” 
“Hey,” Sukuna replied back to you, voice equally soft but tinged with a dry hoarseness that usually followed him out of sleep. It made your toes wiggle uncontrollably against the floor. 
“Oh I’m sorry, did I wake you with the picture? That wasn’t my intention. I just wanted to keep you up to date with my day,” you murmured to him. 
“Don’t worry, you didn’t. And besides, even if it did, it’s not a bad way to start my day.” His words made you melt back into the cushions and you kicked your feet in silent giddiness before tucking them underneath you. “You look stunning, by the way.” 
“Thank you,” you giggled, “though getting here to get ready while it was still dark outside was borderline torture. I’d say that it’s an unfair slight against women, but I’m pretty sure Satoru’s hair and skincare routine took just as long.” 
Your boyfriend let out a disgusted scoff at the mention of your costar’s name, “Please tell me that q-tip is behaving himself.” 
“Sukuna!” You chastised, though you couldn’t help the laughter bubbling up in your throat at the comparison, “You can’t call him that…even if it is somewhat accurate.” 
“It’s one hundred percent accurate,” he argued, “but I won’t call him that to his face…probably.” 
You shook your head in exasperated amusement, nibbling on the bottom skin of your lip before continuing on, “He’s behaving for the most part, aside from his two insinuations that our conversations this morning were of a sexual nature.” 
Sukuna was silent on the other end for a moment before replying back in a low voice with something that had you choking on your spit, “Would you like them to be?” 
He could be heard laughing as you nearly coughed your way into a premature death.
“I’m about to go in front of a live audience and on live tv!” You exclaimed.
“That’s not a ‘no’,” Sukuna pointed out hopefully.
“No.” 
He let out a dramatic sigh and you reached over to a nearby coffee table to unscrew a bottle of water and chug half of it down in the hopes it would help cool you off. 
“Speaking of,” he said, sounding just a tad hesitant, “I’ll uh, tune in to the show to watch if that’s okay with you.” 
You heart skipped a silly little beat at the idea that he wanted to watch some cheesy talk show just to get a glimpse of you. 
“I don’t mind,” you told him, “but it’s going to make me a little nervous knowing you’ll be watching as I stumble through this interview.” 
“Don’t be,” he chuckled, though something in his voice sounded just slightly wicked, “now you’ll get an idea of how I feel when I have to perform.” 
The innuendo had whatever sweet reassurance you had poised at the tip of your tongue fly out of your head, and you scrambled to come with a response that could be said back without implying anything further. The swinging open of your door, however, saved you from the task. 
“Hey, Princess,” Toji called as he leaned his torso around the door, “you need to be out there in five.” 
You startled from your spot on the couch, surprised to realize that your leg was bouncing from where it was propped up on your knee and your finger was twirling a piece of your hair.
Love made you stupid. 
“Toji,” you snapped, “have you ever heard of knocking?”
Your bodyguard rolled his eyes, “I did. Twice.”
Heat flooded your cheeks, especially because you could hear Sukuna cackling through the phone, confirming he heard what Toji just said. 
“Oh…I’ll be right there, okay?” You shooed him off with a flick of your fingers and Toji smirked at you as he began closing the door.
“Don’t be late or I’m sending Gojo in to fetch you.” 
The door closed shut before you could get a word in and you leaned back with a heavy sigh before returning your attention to your phone call, “I’ve to go. I’ll call you when the whole thing is over and I’m back home, yeah?” 
“Sounds good to me. I’ll be waiting for you. Good luck, okay?” 
You weren’t sure if it was all in your head, but you swore you heard a hint of disappointment in his voice.
“Thank you. Bye, Sukuna,” 
“Bye, Princess,” he sing-songed, and you couldn’t help but smile as you clicked off the call. 
——————————————————————————————————————————
Twenty minutes later found you and Satoru sitting next to each other on a platform stage surrounded by bright lights, a large live audience sprawled in front of you, and an all too perceptive interviewer who had started the interrogation just a couple minutes prior. You wiggled in your seat, uncomfortable from the various wires and clips that secured your mic to your back under your dress. 
“So,” she began, nailing you with a look that promised nothing good, “you and Satoru were supposed to film an advert on the beach early this last summer, but it ended up being you and the so-called ‘King of Curses.’ Tell me, how did that come about?” 
You hesitated a moment, thankful the question wasn’t anything too invasive, but you were still hoping to avoid talking about Sukuna altogether. Usually Nanami would heavily emphasize what could and couldn’t be spoken of before these appearances, but since he wasn’t here, you assumed it had been left to Geto. In that case, you knew he couldn’t be bothered since predicting whatever was going to come out of Satoru’s mouth during these things was an art not yet mastered.
 “Well,” you started, clasping your hands together so they didn’t shake, “it really just came about out of well-timed convenience and a favor to the director. We didn’t want to waste any of the crew’s time or have to worry about re-aligning schedules, so Sukuna saved the day by offering to help. Plus, ‘The Curses’ new song at the time got to debut in it, so it was a win-win for everyone! Except for maybe Satoru, of course.” 
In an effort to divert attention from your answer, you threw Satoru a faux-friendly smile and urged him with a widening of your eyes to explain his part. 
“Oh, yeah,” he replied, adjusting himself in the seat and setting a convincing pout on his face. “I just happened to get pulled into something personal last minute and was going to be late to the shoot. I’m appreciative that the “King of Curses” was able to step in and save the day.” 
You didn’t miss the obvious sarcasm dripping from Sukuna’s nickname when it came out of Satoru’s mouth, and you had to hide a giggle behind your hand at the thought of your boyfriend cursing at his TV at home. 
“But,” Satoru continued, jolting you into awareness when he turned to you and ran a long finger down the bare skin of your arm, “I’m super bummed I missed our chance to get wet together.” The smirk on his face was downright evil, and you just knew your face was a picture of stunned disbelief. The audience was tittering with amusement.
“You wear me out, Satoru,” you hissed at him, batting his hand away from where it still traced slowly over your skin. 
Satoru laughed and threw his head back against his chair before taking a quick look at the camera and then leaning in towards you until your noses nearly touched, “I’m flattered you’d admit that on live television.” 
Your jaw, and everyone else’s for that matter, fell to the floor and you could only gawk at him. Over the interviewer’s shoulder, you could see Toji backstage laughing his ass off as Geto stood at a respectable distance next to him shaking his head. 
We better get those damned bonuses from the producer.
“Well!” The interviewer laughed a bit nervously, breaking the tension in the room and turning to the main camera in front of you all, “That was surely something. We have to go to a commercial, but we’ll be back with these two in just a couple minutes!”
The outro music sounded over the speakers and you and Satoru were released from your chairs to scurry backstage. In between sending friendly waves to the audience and starting the walk backstage, you flipped the switch on your mic off. 
“I’m going to kill you, Satoru,” you spat under your breath as the two of you left stage.
The idiot had the gall to laugh, and in your frustration you took a couple large steps to get a head of him. And because the universe didn’t hate you enough, you felt the toe of your heel catch on a stray cable on the floor, pitching you off balance. In your flailing, you reached out to grasp at whatever object could possibly break your fall, and in doing so latched on to Satoru’s sleeve, jerking the poor bastard off his feet and onto you as you both tumbled to floor in a heap of tangled limbs. 
Your back hit the ground first, your mic digging painfully into your back with a suspicious crack of plastic followed by Satoru landing on your front, pushing all the air from your lungs with a painful “oomph.” 
You stared at the ceiling of the studio, wondering how quickly things would go if one of the giant studio lights fell from above and crushed you under it. You were never going to live this down, especially since it happened still in view of the cameras and the audience if the raucous laughter was anything to go by.
“You know, I never imagined I would actually get you under me,” Satoru mused, staring down at you for a second before lifting his giant self off and then pulling you up to follow. He held a hand against your lower back as the two of you made it to the cover of backstage. 
“Honestly,” you admitted, still a little dazed, “I never would have thought so either.”
Staff fluttered around you a minute later, offering water, smoothing your hair out, and ensuring neither of you were hurt…at least not physically. Your pride was a whole other matter. 
“Oh no,” you groaned, catching Satoru’s attention once everyone had cleared out around you, “he was watching. He just saw me eat it on live television.” 
Your co-star cocked a confused eyebrow at you, “You mean Sukuna was watching?”
“Oh please,” you muttered, “like you didn’t guess. And yes, Sukuna was watching, and now I’m not going to be able to look him in the eye this evening.” 
There was a general increased noise coming from the front of the studio, but you were too preoccupied with your own embarrassment to think much of it. 
“And why is that?” Satoru asked. 
You threw your hands up purely because you didn’t know what else to do with them, “I don’t really know exactly, but there is still something supremely humiliating about doing something embarrassing like that in front of my new boyfriend. He makes me nervous enough as is.” 
There was a sudden outbreak of hollers and clapping from out front, and you swung your head around to look and see if anyone had a clue as to what was going on. It took you a minute before you could see Toji running at you with a wild look on his face. 
“Toji, what the hell—?” You didn’t get to finish your question before he was spinning you around by the shoulders, yanking down the zipper of your dress, and ripping the mic from your back. You shrieked in disbelief as you whirled back around to figure out what in the world he had been thinking. 
“Toji!”
“Your mic has been on this whole time,” he growled, showing you the blinking green light on the cracked plastic box. You swore you had turned it off, but seeing as how it took the brunt of the impact when you fell on it earlier, you supposed it wasn’t unlikely that it had turned back on. 
With sudden cold rushing through your body and a sick ball of dread settling into your gut, you looked between Satoru’s dumbfounded expression and Toji’s face of pure exhaustion and immediately decided that if the ground wasn’t going to swallow you up whole, you were going home.
“Get me out of here!”
——————————————————————————————————————————
After finally making it to some undisclosed back alley across from the talk show studio, you were assisted out from your crouch in a trash bin by studio security and ushered to a small nearby out-cove to wait for your bodyguard. 
And you just wanted to be famous soooo bad. Glamorous life, my ass.
As luck would have it, you were made aware today of just how famous you, and especially Sukuna, were. For all the grief you gave Satoru about not accidentally spilling the beans about your newly minted—and still secret—relationship with Sukuna, you were the one that had the unintended pleasure of doing the grand reveal. So now the world was free to stir whatever frenzy they saw fit, from the intensely devoted fangirls of Sukuna’s band, to the entire acting community, and the worst of all…your mother. You suspected you were a couple minutes away from an angry phone call demanding an explanation as to why she had to find out from the internet that you were dating a boy with pink hair and face tattoos and how much longer it would be until she had grandchildren. 
All of this chaos and Nanami just happened to be in a whole other country. 
You suddenly regretted sending him on that vacation.
A sharp squeal of tires caught your attention and you looked up to see a shiny sports car peal around the corner and come to a rumbling stop a couple feet in front of you. Before you could even begin to guess who it could be, the head of your bodyguard appeared as the tinted black window of the passenger side door rolled down.
“Get in the car,” Toji hissed, eyes darting to and fro. 
You wasted no time and nearly dove through the open window in your haste to escape broad daylight. You had just finished buckling your seatbelt in the back when Toji mashed the gas pedal and the car leapt forward.
“Christ, Toji!” You gasped, clasping the headrest of the seat you were just flung into, “Whose car is this? It’s certainly not yours.”
He snorted. “Yeah, cause you don’t pay me enough.”
“Rude,” you muttered back to him, “and not true.” 
You tried to squint out the front windshield to determine where you might be, but brick buildings towered on either side of you still, and you assumed Toji was taking some alternative route home. “Seriously though, whose car is this? It’s not one of mine.” 
“Does it matter?”
You rolled your eyes at his bored tone, “Yes, it does. Toji, I’m not your wife, but—”
“Thank God.” He sounded entirely too relieved about that.
“Still rude!” You yelped, but brushed aside the sting of offense to figure out whose leather seats your dress was currently dropping glitter all over. “I’m not your wife, so I don’t particularly care to know what unscrupulous activities you get up to when I’m not keeping you busy—,”
“None,” he deadpanned, shooting you a glare through the rear view mirror.
“—which I’m pretty sure I had you sign a non-compete, but that’s besides the point. I really need you to tell me where you got this car. In case you aren’t aware, my name is going to be plastered on every social media post, blog page, and headline in the next 24 hours and I’d rather that not include my mugshot with “accomplice to grand theft auto” under it. So tell me who this car belongs to right now or I’m jumping out.”
Toji had the audacity to chuckle at you before reaching back to pat your knee.
“Relax a bit. You know I wouldn’t ever put you in harm’s way on purpose. This is Gojo’s car. Ours was being swarmed by the media out front after your little slip up, so I threatened Geto for the idiot’s keys cause I knew it was out back and the quickest way I could get to our little rendezvous point.” 
“Oh,” was all you managed to get out. Letting your racing mind settle down a bit, you snuggled deeper into the plush leather seats and kicked your feet up onto the center console. You got two seconds of peace before Toji opened his mouth again.
“I’m going to have to call Nanami.” 
“No!” You gasped, springing upright again and feeling a warm sting creep to your eyes as your throat began to tense up. “He’s on vacation! I promised we wouldn’t bother him unless one of us was dying. I’d never forgive myself if he had to come home to clean up my sloppy love life!” 
Toji shook his head and shot you a sad smile over his shoulder as he reached for his phone sitting in the front cup holder.
“We may not really have an option, Sweetheart. Not only is Uraume going to be a huge pain to deal with since this could affect Sukuna’s band, but you’ve also got contracts and appearances promised that may get shaken by the fact it’s been revealed to the world that you've been secretly dating the music industry’s favorite ‘hate to love’ rockstar. We can’t fix this without Nanami.” 
The panic that had been brewing in your stomach this whole time was starting to make your head spin up, so you blamed it on that when you lurched out of your seat and nearly over Toji’s shoulder to snatch the phone out of his hand before he could hit ‘dial’ on Nanami’s contact. 
Your bodyguard swore when you knocked him in the face with your elbow in your clamber and his hand gave a vicious jerk of the wheel that had horns blaring from either side of your car as Toji swerved to correct it. You were thrown back into the seat you had just previously been in and you waited with heaving breaths as the car jolted sideways once more before continuing on straight. The fact you barely missed crashing was a testament to Toji’s reflexes.
“Don’t you ever do stupid shit like that again, you hear me?!” You’d never heard Toji raise his voice at you and it did nothing to help quell the tears about to start pouring from your eyes, “I know you’re stressed and something big has just happened to you, I get it, but that’s no excuse to do something dumb! You just about gave me a heart attack,” he finished, his voice still at a higher volume than normal, but it was softened by the edge of panicked concern and the worried glances he was giving you. 
That was enough to push you over the edge.
“I-I’m sorry, Toji,” you sobbed, upset at yourself for messing up again, “I wasn’t thinking, and I don’t want Nanami to feel like he has to babysit me for the rest of his life, or you to think I’m an airhead or something. I also really like Sukuna and I don’t want him to hate me because of what I did!” 
You let your head fall into your hands and hiccuped through another shuddering cry as you struggled to get ahold of the overwhelming-ness of it all. You felt Toji’s hand on your knee again. 
“Hey, hey, take deep breaths for me. No one’s thinking that, I promise you. And I’m sorry for yelling at you like that. It was wrong. It’s no excuse, but that scared the crap out of me and I thought we for sure were getting into an accident,” he admitted. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.” 
You nodded through your tears, unable to respond to him in any way that was legible. 
“Look, we’re almost home. Try and deep breathe for me. Once we get there I’ll help you get comfortable and we’ll figure this out together, okay?” 
As was frequent with Toji, you valued his ability to keep you calm when you got into the worst of yourself and you were grateful for his steady confidence. You reached out and clasped the hand he still had stretched back on your knee to give it a squeeze, hoping it could convey all the thanks you had for him. The two of you kept driving in comfortable silence until you felt the car slow and saw a flash of a familiar gate out the front windshield.
“Hey,” Toji started, his voice suspiciously light, “you think Gojo would realize if we never returned his car?” 
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Thank you for reading! I've got ideas for parts 3 and 4 already, so I'm hoping to work on those in the next coming days.
I'll also be posting this series on AO3 under Katerina_Mar if you would prefer to read there:)
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nochiquinn · 2 years
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twirlyleafs · 1 month
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“Matilda”
Max Verstappen x reader
TW: complicated relationship with parent and guilt but mostly fluff <3
A/N: based on the song Matilda by Harry Styles
~~~~
You can let it go, you can throw a party full of everyone you know.
“I think we should call off the party.” You said, not looking up from your plate as you continued parting your food. In your peripheral vision you could tell Max froze just as he was about to pop a piece of chicken in his mouth.
“What?”
“The engagement party. I don’t want to do it anymore.” You tried to keep your tone light, as if it didn’t really bother you when in reality you’d cried an hour about it this morning. For the past few weeks you and Max had been planning a party to celebrate getting engaged, or rather you had been supposed to. In reality you had planned it, Max avoiding the subject like the plague. Every time you asked him to sit down with you to look at something regarding it he’d suddenly been very busy and if you asked for his advice he’d just kissed you and told you it didn’t matter, that it was your choice. At first you’d been so excited about the party, not just to get to celebrate the love you shared with Max, but because you thought planning a party together would give you a hint of how planning a wedding would be. Now all it did was make you want to cry.
“Why not? I thought you were so excited?” Max placed his utensils down, frowning at you from across the table. You shrugged, moving some lettuce around on your plate.
“Yeah, but it’s fine. I think it’s best if we skip it.”
“But why?” He pressed and with a deep breath you looked up at him. Max offered the softest expression, genuine worry and confusion on his face. You forced yourself to give him a small smile.
“You don’t want to Max.” You stated simply and his face fell for a second before the frown was back. He opened his mouth to say something but obviously changed his mind, a silence settling over the table. You looked back down, poking the food around and occasionally taking a bite. It felt like forever before Max spoke up.
“I do want to.” The way he said it with a sigh had you looking up at him with furrowed brows. He shook his head when he met your gaze, obviously sensing your disbelief. “I do, I promise you baby. There’s just- I’ve been thinking about, well-“ Max didn’t seem to find the words, suddenly nervous. You reached your hand across the table, wiggling your fingers a bit. Max paused, a small smile forming on his face as he took your hand in his and leaned down to press a kiss against it.
“Tell me.” You mumbled, your thumb moving over his skin in the most comforting way you could. Max gave you a quick nod and you could tell he found it hard to express whatever it was he was about to say.
“I know we said we wanted our families and friends at the party.” He began, and you nodded. “And I do. Mostly.”
“What do you mean?” You were confused.
“You know I love my dad.” He began and it slowly dawned on you what this was about. You refrained from grimacing at the mention of Jos. The two of you had never really gotten along but that had never bothered you that much, Max had ensured you that Jos had never and would never get along with anything that took time away from racing. What made you really dislike your soon to be father in law was the way he treated his son. You’d seen Jos absolutely tear into Max for mistakes made by the team, by other drivers. You’d heard the stories from Maxs childhood, having been told the worst ones by his mother and sister since he would never share them himself. He didn’t want to put his dad in bad light, ever. Even when Jos definitely deserved it.
And not invite your family because they never showed you love.
“I know you do.” You agreed, leaving it at that. Max once again nodded softly, knowing very well how you felt about his father.
“And even though a part of me wants him there- I mean he is my dad.” Max paused again to take another deep breath, eyes fixed on your hands, before continuing. “An even bigger part of me don’t want him to come because I know he’ll either upset you or my mom or one of our friends.”
“Or you.” You added, knowing that even though Max had taught himself not to let it show when his father hurt him it affected him a great deal.
“Or me.” He agreed, quietly. “I think everything would be better if he didn’t come but I also feel this, I don’t know, intense guilt at the thought of not inviting him.” Maxs eyes shot up to stare at you the second you pulled your hand from his. He watched you stand up and for a split second he thought you were angry, but he quickly realized that you were rounding the table to come to him. Pushing his chair out he let you crawl up in his lap, his arms automatically wrapping around you. With a small pout on your face you let your hands cup his cheeks, forcing him to face you.
“Max.” You cooed, not being able to stop yourself from placing a quick but loving kiss on his lips before continuing. “You have every right in the world to invite, or not invite, whoever you want. Just because he is your father doesn’t mean he gets an automatic invite if you don’t feel like you want him here.”
“But it feels so mean.”
“He’s mean.” You stated, backtracking when you saw Maxs face drop. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. What I’m trying to say is that he put himself in a position where you’re even considering not inviting him. He did that. Not you.” You scratched your nails against his stubble, making him close his eyes momentarily. “I’ll support you no matter what you decide and I promise we will make the best of the situation whether he’s here or not. But you should only invite him if you actually want him here, not because you feel obligated. Loving someone doesn’t mean bending over backwards for them.” When Max opened his eyes again he immediately met your gaze and you could tell your words were slowly resonating within him.
“I don’t think I want him here.” You rarely heard Max be so vulnerable and it made your heart both hurt and swell with pride. He was standing up for himself.
“And you don’t have to be sorry for that. You don’t need to list anymore reasons other than the fact that you simply don’t want to.” You let your hands wander down his jaw and to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. Max nodded slowly and even though you could tell he wasn’t quite there yet, he was one step closer to standing up for himself. You tilted your head, offering a soft smile. “You don’t have to decide anything right now Maxie, we can take some time.” Max couldn’t help but smile back, leaning down to kiss you.
You don’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up.
“Thank you.” He mumbled, lips still pressed against yours. You felt his arms tightening around you and you let your head fall to his shoulder. Max let out a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’ve been stressing you out lately.”
“You always stress me out.” You joked, earning a soft laugh and fingers pressing into your side. You grinned and pecked his neck a few times, being the only thing you could reach while staying as comfortable as you were. “No but seriously Max, don’t worry about it. I get it. Just know that you can always talk to me about these things, about anything.”
“I know.” He whispered against your head and you smiled. Marrying Max would be the best decision of your life, you were sure of it.
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minjix · 10 months
Text
cinderella → Vinnie Hacker x female!reader
summary: in which you’re the one catching his attention
warnings: fluff, and that’s a warning of itself lol + plus the standard swear word here and there. also I can’t for the life of me write an ending, so I apologize if it feels abrupt-because it is lol. also keep in mind that english is not my first language.
a/n: I write with breaks to actually be able to give it my all and not lose interest in writing- which is a genuine fear of mine
word count: 2.6k :)
masterlist
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reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!
It was all a stupid cliche in your eyes as you stared at the tweet Vinnie had posted. “who is she.” Simple as that, yet mostly everyone knew what he was referring to, but they didn’t know whom and Vinnie didn’t know either.
Like previously stated, it was all a stupid cliche- a masquerade party filled to the brim with influencers and small celebrities, crowding a huge mansion which felt tiny as you pushed your way through to get a much needed breath of fresh air, away from the liquor stained breaths.
You sighed in relief as you stepped into the cool L.A, two am breeze, the music thumping through the ground, vibrating your whole body. “I feel the same way,” a dark voice chuckled. Startled, you looked into the direction of which the voice came from, and there he stood, leaning on the wall, head tilted back and eyes on the night sky. He was dressed simple, something you rolled your eyes at, and his arms of which were folded in front of his chest was covered in tattoos. “Huh?” Was all that you managed to get out, your tongue deciding to twist on itself.
The corners of his mouth twitched as though he wanted to smile, but refrained from doing just that. “Wanting to get away for a few minutes,” his voice was velvety and , his skin shone red from the neon lights seeping through the huge windows.
“Oh- yeah, you answered stupidly, “totes.” You wanted to smack yourself. A laugh rumbled his chest and escaped from his lips as his head tilted in your direction, his eyes meeting yours. “Totes? Never heard that before-in real life that is.” Duh, because you’ve spoken like a bad stereotypical surfer dude.
You didn’t know how to respond so you simply nodded your head, very aware of his eyes trailing down your body. A tattooed hand entered your peripheral, “I’m Vinnie,” he introduced himself. It was then more sober you connected the dots, of course it’s Vinnie the Hacker. The only disguise he had was a black eye mask with black crystals in intricate designs; it looked expensive and it most definitely was, knowing who he was and all. You hadn’t bothered to wear a mask, but had regretted that decision the moment you stepped into the mansion.
You didn’t shake his hand. “Cool,” you shrugged mentally preparing yourself with whatever half assed excuse you could come up with to leave. ‘my apartment is on fire’ don’t want to jinx myself you thought afterwards. “Um, nice to meet you?” You sounded awfully unsure, and guilt brewed in your stomach when you saw Vinnie wince. “So,” he began carefully, trying to get an understanding,” what’s your name?”
But you didn’t feel like answering. “I’m hungry.” You spat out and his eyes widened. “What?”
“I’m hungry, so I’m going to leave. Bye.” You turned to leave but a careful grasp of your arm halted you, “do you want to get McDonalds with me? I’m kinda hungry too.” He sounded shy, and you couldn’t even imagine turning him down, he looked like a sad puppy for Christ sake.
“Sure.”
The drive to the fast food chain was surprisingly comfortable, even though Vinnie tried his best to get you to tell him your name; to no avail. And soon enough the two of you were seated by the window, both with big macs in hand, awkwardness thrown out the window as the alcohol induced hunger made everything taste oh so much better.
“so fucking good,” Vinnie groaned through a mouthful causing you to almost choke on your fourth bite. Your eyes didn’t leave his form, his hair in a disarray and his eyes closed as he ate the burger.
You forced a chuckle, “won’t your friends get mad or something?” You mumbled, playing with your fries. The tattooed man shook his head, “no? Why would they?” His eyes were on yours now and you couldn’t help but feel bare under his intense gaze.
“You kinda ditched them…” you trailed of as a smirk grew on his lips, his tongue quickly darting out to lick them. “Trust me they won’t notice.” He sounded sure. “Why?” You asked and this time he laughed softly, “you’re very curious, huh?” You shrugged, “I guess.”
He continued, “but no, they were pretty busy trying to get laid so I really doubt they’d notice me missing.” He stressed the word ‘really’.
“Oh.” He laughed again as he stared you down, “you’re really weird, y’know that?”
“Thanks?”
You and Vinnie had spent an hour talking nonsense, and when the two of you noticed the hard stares from the workers you both decided to leave. Vinnie had insisted on dropping you off at home but an uncomfortable feeling grew in the pit of your stomach as you politely declined, telling him a white lie to soothe his worries about leaving a girl in the streets of LA at three am.
——-
The morning after, curiosity had you in its grip as you reluctantly opened Twitter and searched for his handle.
@/vinniehacker: who is she. posted at five am. Quicker than lightning you exited the app, contemplating on deleting it completely, but you refrained from doing it.
You grew frustrated at yourself, you had an amazing night last night with an amazing attractive guy, and you full out blew everything to bits.
Your best friend tended to call you a flesh ball of anxiety, a saying that left a sour taste in your mouth and cheeks aching from faking a laugh. You were a people pleaser, but at the same time you hated everyone and preferred to be by yourself. So you did everything to stay out of the spotlight, simply rooming with your childhood best friend who went viral on TikTok months ago. And Vinnie was the opposite of staying out of the spotlight.
Before your brain had caught up to what your hands were doing, you had already entered the cursed bird app again, entering his handle, tapping on the tweet and reading through the comments. ‘she????’, ‘what?!’, all in a similar fashion. Speculations were thrown left and right and thirty minutes had passed of you endlessly scrolling, biting your lip raw until you tasted iron.
“Get up! We have an event to go to!” You wanted to cry, to come up with a lie that you were sick and didn’t want to spread it further. You lied a lot, at least tried to before your brain took you through the endless possibilities of consequences coming from said lies. So you heaved a sigh and got ready.
———-
The event was extremely overcrowded and overwhelming, the LA sun beaming down on bodies dripping in expensive perfumes, a cloud of strong smells begging for a headache to form. You were a plus one, a non famous one at that, so you stood awkwardly to the side as your friend and her famous friends took promo pictures. In your hand was a mimosa, minus the champagne, so orange juice.
You didn’t bother to keep up the happy charade, settling on frowning while sipping your expensive orange juice. You had half a mind to ask what brand of juice it was but decided that you were already looking stupid so there was no point of making it worse.
You were painfully aware of how lonely you looked so you grabbed your phone and entered the weather app, wondering how the weather in Hamburg was.
“So, uh, how’s the weather looking?” A velvety voice asked from above your right shoulder, warm air tickling your skin and you froze. Shit. “Uhm, cloudy with a chance of rain,”
You turned towards him and tried not to gape at what you saw. He was wearing a half buttoned white blouse with his hair slicked back except for a few strands in the front. He wore black and expensive looking trousers, and silver rings wrapped around almost each finger with a silver braided bracelet. His sleeves were rolled up revealing his tattoos on his sun kissed skin. And he smelled so fucking good.
He gave you a mischievous grin, “hey, you.” His eyes trailed over your form, several times with a glint in his eyes. You whispered a hey back, flustered for some reason and you were also ashamed, for what, you had no idea.
“I never got your name,” he muttered, his hands in his pocket. You could only shrug, words not agreeing with you. And there it was, that nauseating shameful feeling you got, you were ashamed of yourself for some reason, well you know why, but actually taking the bull by its horns are the hard part.
“I know,” he frowned at your answer, raising an eyebrow. “So you’re not going to give me your name, so I’ll just have to call you Cinderella then. “ he smiled smugly at the end of his sentence, as though he had conquered the world with his pinkie.
“Cinderella?” You asked confused and a smit insulted. “I didn’t drop my shoe…” you trailed off, combing through your memory, and sure enough, you had both your shoes on, or you would’ve noticed otherwise.
He laughed out loud, his teeth on full display and eyes closed. “No, you didn’t drop your shoe. But you did leave me with not being able to stop thinking of you…” he said, his eyes unrelentingly searching yours as if he could simply read your name in your irises. Your eyes widened and you felt as though your stomach was turning inside out. This has to be a cruel joke, you thought to yourself as you glared at him.
“That’s not funny,” you murmured through clenched teeth. He looked confused, brows furrowed. “It-it wasn’t a joke,” he said sheepishly. He looked genuinely hurt, and it made you doubt your insecurities.
“I genuinely had a great time with you last night, and I want to get to know you.” He kept his eyes on yours the entire time. “So please, what’s your name?” He sounded desperate, as though your name would unlock every story there was to know about you.
“Y/n,” you whispered and you watched in awe as he tested your name on his tongue, several times before settling with a “I like it, it suits you.” Vinnie telling you that your name suits you felt like a thousand suns were shining down on you. You bit your lip to repress the grin that was threatening to grow and instead you settled for a shy smile, praying that you didn’t have anything between your teeth.
“Y/nn!” A voice called, it seemed as though your friend had finished with her promo pics. “I got you a goodie bag-oh,” she paused when she saw the Vinnie Hacker standing beside you. “Hey,” she smiled and fluttered her eyelashes and a boulder dropped into your stomach. Of course, you thought. She’s so much prettier than me, and famous.
He only nodded in acknowledgement with a small ‘hey’, it didn’t deter your friend from asking a lot of questions. You took that as your queue to leave, slowly walking backwards whilst Vinnie’s eyes were on yours the entire time, looking confused as to what you were doing.
You quickly nodded towards your friend, who was still animatedly talking, whilst wiggling your eyebrows suggestively, ignoring the knot in your stomach.
Once again Vinnie looked confused before the dots in his head connected. His eyes widened before he shook his head, something your friend hadn’t noticed as she was too busy scrolling through her TikTok to show Vinnie a specific video of her. He mouthed the word ‘NO’ several times whilst staring at you with his wide eyes.
It was kind of endearing to watch him panic. A chuckle escaped you before he turned to your friend, an apologetic smile on his face. “Excuse me,” he said softly, eyes still on you before walking towards, grabbing your hand with utter care before he led you inside the building.
He stopped in an empty hallway, staring down at you with a smirk on his lips. “Trying to set me up with your friend,” he murmured lazily, eyes tracing your lips. “When you know fully well that I’m interested in you…”
It felt like a fever dream, and you had to mentally force yourself to focus on the situation at hand. Is Vinnie about to kiss me?
“You don't even know me,” you retaliated, a frown on your lips, your lips of which he still stared at. He shrugged at your answer, a serious look taking over his face. “So let me,” he began. “Let’s get out of here.”
You shook your head, “I can’t just leave my friend-“.
He interrupted you, “your friend who seemed very busy, in fact, I recall you standing by yourself.” You had nothing to say to that except for a gentle nod with a smile on your lips. Vinnie grinned in return before tugging out of the building and into his car. You had sent a simple text to your friend-‘ i’m going out, don’t wait for me <3’
————————-
Vinnie treated you to McDonalds, once again and took you to a look out, the city of angels to stare at whilst you both ate. His shoulder touched yours as you sat on the picnic blanket filled to the brim with greasy and mouth watering food.
“So tell me, how come I can’t find you anywhere?” He asked, his hand playing with yours, twisting your rings. It created a warm feeling in your stomach.
“I’m a private person,” you began, hearing Vinnie murmuring a ‘couldn’t have guessed,’ and you nudged your shoulder into his playfully, drawing a laugh from his lips. “I guess, uhm I don’t see myself in the spotlight, having people constantly judging my every move.” He nodded in agreement, looking lost in thought.
“I can understand that, it’s just unusual to see someone not famous in parties held by influencers.” You nodded, agreeing with him. “My friend is pretty famous and always makes me her plus one.”
“I like it though,” you stared at him confused whilst he stared at you with a small smile on his lips, almost looking shy. “Like what?”
“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain…” he looked lost in his thoughts.
“Try,” you pushed, his hand tightening around yours.
“I like that I can pursue this,” he gestured whilst you stared at him with wide eyes. “That you’ll be somewhat safe from the onslaught of comments you would’ve gotten if you were a public figure. This feels normal to me, y’know. Like it’s not for show, it’s just me and you.”
“Me and you?” You asked with a grin, his smile grew and he gave you a wink, “of course, this is our second date after all.”
“Is that so?” You bit your lip when he leaned towards you, his lips so close to touching yours, before he planted a small, almost phantom-like kiss on them. “It is so,” he gauged your expression before ultimately seeing the contentment in your eyes, and pressed his lips to yours firmly. You felt his hand grasp your cheek as he tilted his head to gain more access.
You were both breathing heavily before you disconnected your lips, but Vinnie took it upon himself to kiss your cheeks before traveling down your neck, leaving you even more breathless.
“I’m taking you on dates everyday this week,” he breathed into your neck and you felt your eyes roll back from the sensation and his sultry voice.
“I expect you to-“ he stopped you from talking with another kiss. “Shut up and kiss me,” he ordered and you did, for several hours, the once bright sun in the middle of sky, now dipping down on the horizon covered by the Los Angeles skyline.
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cherryredstars · 3 months
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Can you make a dbf (dads best friend) miguel where there at a family reunion and miguel cant resist not fucking you before anyone notices you two are gone.?
Ps. I love your stories🤭
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Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Sexual Touching, Slapping, Gagging, Spitting, Implied Age Gap
Summary: Did you really think he forgot your gift?
A/N: Another request that two different people wanted LMAO. Thank you for reading my stories, love!
Word Count: 1.5K (Not Edited)
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Four years.
It had been four years since he had last seen you. Of course you had been home within those four years, but Miguel was always too busy to drop by and catch a view of you before you’d eventually fly back out of state for university. But now, you’re here. To stay this time. And when Miguel got the invitation from your father for a party celebrating your return, who was he to decline?
Maybe not seeing you for those four years was a blessing in disguise. The second he had walked out to the backyard, your dad had instantly ushered him to you. You were talking to some old friends that you had kept a long distance connection with, turning around when your father had called your name. Miguel was a sucker the moment you had turned around, a dazzling smile on your face. His breath had stilled when you leaned up on your toes, turning your head slightly to press a kiss to both of his cheeks in greeting. The joyful tone you had said his name in had him practically purring. Cute little you who was about to enter the realities of adulthood staying by his side to chat and pester him like you were still in high school. Always a fucking tease.
And the day kept on getting better and better. You always seemed to be hovering somewhere near him. Always came up to him and your father for seemingly the tiniest things. He didn’t fail to notice the small glances you had given him across the yard. Could feel your eyes straying to him every now and then. You were always in his peripheral vision. Almost like you wanted his attention. And when you had come over to him asking him to help you get some things inside to help replenish the snack table, he had to hide his smirk by taking a sip of his beer. 
It wasn’t long until he had you pinned in your childhood bedroom, cheek pressed against the door as he cooed in your ear, “Oh my poor baby. Missed me, hm? Couldn’t keep your greedy little eyes off of me.”
You could only whine, wiggling your hips as you felt his hard on pressing against your ass. Miguel groaned against your ear, grinding into you. He couldn’t help the wicked smile as you let out pleased sighs and desperate whines. His teeth tugged on your earlobe, causing you to gasp. 
“What is it, amor? What’s with your little fit?” He whispered hotly into your ear. You only huffed, pressing your hands against the door to push yourself harder against him. Unhappy with the attitude, Miguel stopped the slow rutting he was doing against you. The desperate ‘please!’ you whispered instantly lifted his mood. 
His hand slid down your back, snaking to your front. You move your forehead to press against the door, mouth hanging open as you look down to watch his hand slip through the front of your pants and into your underwear. “I think I know. Upset I didn’t get you a welcome home gift, my greedy baby?”
You almost collapsed against him when his fingers grazed over your slit, gathering the arousal spilling from you, “Almost forgot how much of a spoiled brat you are. You want a gift, I’ll give you one.”
You gave a desperate cry as Miguel pressed his fingers harder against you, your hips bucking. Miguel chuckled darkly, his other hand beginning to under your pants and pull them down. As he did so, he grazed the wet spot in your underwear, making your cheeks flame. His eyes darkened as he began to pull your underwear down, the soft flesh of your ass being revealed to him. Miguel hummed at the sight, giving it a firm slap that had your back arching. He rubbed the reddening skin, cooing down at you. 
He kept one hand on your ass, rubbing it in his large hands as his fingers left your slit. His fingers were sticky with arousal, heavy with your scent. It made him impossibly harder, his cock twitching in his pants. His fingers went back to you, circling your hole before he stuffed them in. You cried out at the sudden stretch, your hips moving to try to get away from him. It only encouraged him to give your ass another spank. 
Your nails clawed at the door, making a dreadful squeaking noise as Miguel pumped his fingers in and out of you rapidly. You can hear the noise of his palm hitting against your body as he works his fingers, causing you to whine loudly. Miguel’s hand was quick to leave its place on your ass cheek, slapping it over your mouth. 
“Shhh, baby. You don’t want me to take away your gift, do you?” Miguel hissed and you rapidly shook your head no. 
Miguel cooed at your quick obedience, rewarding you with a kiss to the back of your neck that made you melt into him. You could feel Miguel’s finger pressing into that pleasurable spot inside of you, and your hips bucked as you felt your orgasm approaching. But before you could reach the peak, Miguel’s fingers left you. You cried against his hand, your hips wiggling to try to get back that stimulation. Miguel laughed meanly at you, his hand slapping down on your ass, leaving a wet spot from his drenched fingers. 
You could hear the sound of fabric and a belt, hearing Miguel's relieved sigh when he freed his leaking cock from his briefs. You tried to turn your head to see, but your body stiffened as Miguel’s belt slid into your face. His hand left your mouth, the taste of leather filling your mouth. Your body stifled when you felt the buckle, feeling the belt tighten around the back of your head to keep it in place. You whined against it, the sound being effectively muffled. 
Your body jumped again when you felt a wetness slide down the hole, gasping as you realized Miguel had spit on you. Your wiggling hips only made it drip further down your skin. You heard Miguel spit again, but instead of it landing on you, he worked the saliva up and down his cock. After the saliva coated his cock, he pressed the head of it to your opening. You wasted no time rubbing yourself against it, earning a moan from the both of you. While one of Miguel’s hands held his cock in place, his other hand went to grab your wrists and hold them against your back. The only thing holding you in place was your forehead pressed against the door and your two legs. 
Slowly, Miguel pushed his cock into you, making you cry out. Wet noises filled the room as he slid further and further into you, your walls sucking him in. Miguel let out a groan as he bottomed out, his hand coming to grip your wrist as he stared down at where the two of you met. He gave you an experimental thrust, chuckling as your legs almost gave out. That experimental thrust was the only warning he gave you before he pulled out to the tip, and snapped his hips all the way to the hilt again. You screamed against the leather belt as he did it over and over again, giving you deep punishing thrusts. You body shook with the force of it, and the door rattled as he kept fucking you into it. You can feel yourself pulsing and twitching as he adjusted his angle to hit your gummy spot, that sweet orgasm building up inside of you again. 
You can feel tears rushing from your eyes, and the only reason you had not collapsed to the floor was Miguel’s tight grip holding you up. Around your gag, you screamed Miguel’s name, your body convulsing as that orgasm ripped through you. Miguel grunted as you came, his orgasm quickly approaching. You sobbed as his thrusts didn’t stop hitting that sensitive spot, the overstimulation getting to you as another orgasm built up like a raging fire. Miguel let go of your hands, reaching to the front of you to give your sex a mean pinch that had you exploding again at the same time his seed began to spill inside of you. Miguel let out a dragged moan as he stilled, his cock twitching inside of you. 
You panted heavily as Miguel undid the belt around your head and began to pull out of you. You whined as he left you, feeling an aching hollowness inside of you. Another whimper left you when you felt his cum begin to seep from your hole, a protest on your lips as he quickly slipped your underwear up to you so you could spill it into your clothing. The wetness was uncomfortable, feeling it continue to leave you. Miguel only chuckled as he readjusted himself, watching a dark patch beginning to form in your underwear.
“Welcome home, kid.”
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shidouryusm · 5 months
Text
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✿༝༚༝༚ Satoru: 1 You: 0 ✿༝༚༝༚
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content -> fluffy fluff, banters, teasing and touching, making out, mentions of hickey at the end, implied sexual innuendo at the end.
w/c- 1.6k
a/n -> Happy birthday to my blue eyed goober, I love this lil shit till infinity. @pastelle-rabbit to answer your ask more thoroughly hehehehe. And to every Gojo fucker, hope y'all enjoy this once again extremely self indulgent piece with me and let's celebrate our pookie's birthday. Gojover? hell nah what's that
dividers by @/cafekitsune
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“Babyyy, I’m hereee. Stop looking at your phone”, you hear Satoru’s whines muffled in your sweater. Your arms wrap around his neck as you hold the phone above his head, which in fact you were using to post for his birthday.
“Just a min, ‘toru.” you murmur softly, using one of your hands to thread through his cloud like hair. Your nails gently graze his scalp, starting from his undercut, as they smoothe over the prickly skin, reaching to the tufts of white candy floss that sits atop, repeating the circling motion again and again. Satoru hums satisfyingly at the feeling of your hands combing through them, comfortable enough to shut up momentarily and nuzzling himself further into your chest. You smile at his clinginess, dipping down to press a light peck on the top of his head. 
Your nostrils fills with the sweet scent of shampoo, the fragnance carrying undertones of candy and molten marshmallow. You wonder where he even gets these and how much do they cost? 
His hands envelopes your back as you half lay on the couch with him plopping himself right on top of you, his tall frame settles between your legs while his head nests snugly on your chest. You tangle one of your leg around the back of his shin. A mess of limbs under the thin blanket that covers both your lower bodies. 
Outside, the sun shlyly peeks from the greyish clouds that wrings out sudden downpours every now and then, forcing both of you to coop up inside the house. 
Not that Satoru was complaining at all, until now, when you shifted your attention from your grown ass boyfriend to your phone. He scoffs mockingly at you, still immersed deep in your phone. What even is there in that godforsaken phone? His blue eyes maliciously eyes that rectangular device. He lays on your chest, silently devising plans on having you all to himself, till the cogs of his brain click.
He shifts, raising himself slightly under the pretext of  “just getting comfortable” so that his face now nestles the crook of your neck. Warm breaths tickles the skin under your ear to which you squirm a little, 
“Toru-” you warn. From your peripheral vision you see him curled up over you, pulling the warmth of your body towards him. His face painted with an expression of serenity as if the only thing in his mind is to be bask in your silent embrace. 
“Hmmm? What did I do?” faux innocent laced his words. You roll your eyes, one of your head still tangled between his locks. He waits for a while, letting you fall into a fake sense of security before  his hands that were wrapped around your lower back start their journey to explore the expanse of your back. His touch is soft, leaving an electrifying sensation through your thin sweater. Almost ticklish and tantalising. One of his hands reach below, long fingers playing with the hem of your sweater, daring to slip underneath it. 
You try your best to not give into whatever mischief his brain has cooked up. Even though, you know, you should have given him the attention, considering it’s his birthday. 
But, since he had to be a menace, two can play the game, right? 
Your attention has now fully shifted to your phone, the cat reel that was playing became ten times more interesting to watch. You even decided to up a notch, removing your hand from his hair to grab the phone with both hands. 
“So, this is how it’s gonna be?” you hear him challengingly mutter, the removal of your hands acting as a declaration of silent war between you two. You dared not to look at him, although you were certain that his face is curled up in his trademarked smirk, plotting to win. 
But if he’s Gojo Satoru, you are Gojo Satoru’s girlfriend. No way in hell you are backing out from this little game you both started literally out of nowhere. 
“Gonna be what, ‘Toru? What did I do?,” you parrot his words back at him, feigning innocence while still peering at your phone. Your jaw muscle twitches, a smile threatening to break out. 
Satoru quirks an eyebrow, amused by your witty banter. One of the many things that made him fall head over heels for you – your ability to match his energy at any given moment.
 Little challenges sparking up between you guys often, keeping the ultimate fire of passion alive. 
“Well, if you say so then,” Satoru breathes, his hands now fully getting into work, as they roam around your body. his other hand trails down to your hips, studying the way his palm bumps over the dips and curves. 
The hand that was fiddling with the hem has slipped inside, resting over the waistline of your sweatpants. You feel your heart race as his blunt nails scrape over your skin ghostily, hooking one finger under to pull the elastic. He snickers against your skin before releasing the fabric, letting it snap against your skin. 
You let out a small gasp at his ministrations. From the corner of your eyes you can make out this insufferable prick grinning at you, still resting his face on your neck. 
“Low blow, ‘toru.” you narrow your eyes, determined to still not make any eye contact as you whisper under your breath, which apparently he caught on. 
You hear him hum, “hmmmm? should have known before removing your hand, baby,” his satirical voice vibrates through as you scoff.
“Should have kept your hands to yourself in the first place.” 
“Shouldn’t have ignored me in the first place. Y’know it’s impossible for me to not touch you, why demand such a thing?” with that, he lets his fingertips place fluttering touches all over your skin, without the obstruction of your sweater. You hiss, trying to squirm away from his cold fingertips but this sturdy, 6 foot giant had you locked under his hold, causing you to fail horribly.
“You’re cold! Get your hands off me.” you grumble. Satoru pretends to not hear anything, continuing to draw random lines with his fingers all over your lower back and sides. At times, fully planting his palm on your back, the frigidness making you gasp and falter. 
“More the reason for me to touch you. You’re hot, baby.” he quips, to which you fall silent. How does he have the answer to everything you say? 
“I’m not gonna leave my phone nor will I react now. You’re gonna lose the challenge”, you huff to which he shrugs his shoulder,
“Nah, I’d win.” Satoru says coolly, resuming his exploration with his hands.
You fall back to your phone, finding it difficult to concentrate on whatever is playing on the phone with the way Satoru’s hands glides over your skin. The pads of his fingers skim through your stomach. Even though they are cold, the lingering touch leaves wamr blaze in its wake. Your heart races sporadically as you anticipate where his hands might move next. 
Although, your face says otherwise, making the most sour expression possible as you stare daggers into your phone. Satoru has always noticed every minuscule details and changes in your body, so this definitely didn’t go under his radar. 
He decides it’s time to dial it up a bit. Afterall, he’s the birthday boy.
With his left hand which was already underneath your sweater, he continued tracing over your skin, while his right hand snaked up to the neckline of your sweater right where his face is currently planted to tug it down, exposing more of your skin in front of him. The veil of cold from the weather outside causes goosebumps to flesh out in your skin, catching Satoru’s eyes as he admires them with his piercing gaze before his mouth puckers in a “o”, cool air slid over your skin from his mouth. 
“T-toru, stop it.” your resolves crumbles like your voice. 
“Are you denying the birthday boy, baby? Don’t hurt me like that.” He whispers against your skin, a mocking bent in his tone as he feigns sadness. You debate whether to succumb to his touches or strangle him.
You breathe through your mouth, attempting to gain composure which you are notoriously failing to do. Satoru’s lips presses against your skin, his lips etched with a grin as he places countless pecks throughout the crevice of your neck and shoulder.
“So fucking pretty, still can’t believe you’re like all mine. Why were you ignoring me, baby. Need you always so fucking much.” Satoru’s gravelly voice vibrates through your skin, the tingles straight shooting down your spine. His hand has now gripped your side like a vice, fingers indenting deep into the skin.
 He groans against your shoulder as he press a kiss there, finding his way back to your neck again, millions of kisses littering your skin. He reaches under your ear, his teeth nipping lightly at the lobe.
Meanwhile, his hands push your body up, towards him, grinding his lower body against yours.
A soft whimper dares to escape your lips before you suppress it. Hands turning a little wobbly, and you hate how heat courses through your veins as Satoru turns your whole being into a mushy puddle against himself.
“Give up, darling.” Satoru whispers in your ear, before his mouth catches hold of your skin. His teeth scrapes the skin, sucking it fervently, while his back pushes you flush against him, letting you feel all the ridges and contour of his skin. His heart rhymes with your, palpitating with galloping beats. A soft whine escapes Satoru's throat at this steamy turn of events.
This had to be the last straw that broke the camel’s back as your phone slides from your hand, falling somewhere on the floor. Your head tips back and a breathy moan ricochets the room as Satoru duly runs his tongue over the hickey that prickled a little.  
You hear Satoru’s simpering resonating around the room as he pulls you up, now seated on the couch with you straddling his lap
“See, told you I’d win.” his hand caresses the newly formed mark that will definitely take a concealer or turtleneck to hide.
“You prick. Fuck you. You did that on purpose.” 
“Tell me where it says I can’t do that.” he muses, shutting you up once again. Your lips jut in a pout as you stare at him. 
His eyes are so blue, glossing with the reflection of the rain pouring outside. His forehead veiled with your most favourite part of his body – those fluffy tufts of hair and his lips curl into a toothy smile. The eyes brimming with love and admiration for you.
Even as he weaseled his way out with an upper hand, you don't feel any of it. Rather, you drink in the way he looks so haphazard. So messy. So homely.
Your hands reach to cup his face, feeling the physicality of his beauty before you lean down to press a kiss.
“The least I can do for you birthday is to let you win, I guess. Happy Birthday, sexy.” you murmur against his lips, taking them between your own.
 He returns the kiss with the same vigour, his hands are now out of the sweater, holding your back for support, whilst pulling you close to him. 
The flavour of your strawberry balm etches itself in Satoru’s mind and he never wishes to stop from relishing the taste of your soft lips. A calm havoc wreck his insides as he thanks whatever lies above for granting him the biggest gift of his life – you.
You break apart from him, his eyes deepening their shade of blue and his face carrying a lingering expression of passion. His chest heaves from deep breaths as you stare at him with confusion. He motions his eyes downwards, making you realise what’s the issue.
“Mind helping me out?” 
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a/n -> God I'd commit felonies to experience this especially with a 6'feet, white haired, blue eyed, freakishly handsome and annoying blockhead.
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javiscigarette · 11 months
Text
Bad Mood
Joel x f!reader (pre/no outbreak)
Summary: Based on this ask (thank u nonnie)!! Joel punishes bratty reader that's it
Warnings: SMUT! NSFW 18+ no use of Y/N, established relationship, straight up filth not much else, dom!Joel brat!reader, spanking, fingering, orgasm denial, oral (m receiving)
Word count: 3k
A/N: Using this as my 450 follower celebration! I'm so grateful for everyone who's followed me and enjoyed my silly little fics. I love this community <3. Also, this is relatively short but I am already planning a part two to this so stay tuned hehehe. my masterlist
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Joel knew you were in a bad mood the second you walked through the door. 
The door slams behind you and carelessly toss your keys on the little entryway table. You keep your headphones on as you kick off your shoes and stomp off to the bedroom, not even bothering to look at Joel who’s sitting on the couch in the living room not even six feet away. 
Joel stays silent as he watches you stride down the hall to the bedroom, wincing just slightly when he hears the bedroom door slam shut. 
You keep your music blasting as you immediately change into your comfy clothes. Today was a horrible day at work. Your boss has been breathing down your neck for the last two weeks about a project you're working on, nitpicking every single detail and telling you to make a million changes. And today, despite all the edits and changes she told you to make, she still picked it apart, telling you that you were better off restarting the whole thing. 
And now you were left with a day and a half to “fix” this project before it’s due. So yeah, you were in a bit of a bad mood. 
After changing, it’s straight to stress cleaning. With your headphones on, you storm back into the kitchen and start to pull out all of the cleaning supplies from under the sink. Your music is loud enough that you don’t hear Joel clearing his throat behind you. You only notice that he’s there whenever you stand up and turn around. He says something to you and looks at you expectedly, forcing you to stop your music. 
“What?” you snap at him, ripping out one of your ear buds. 
Joel raises his eyebrows at you and holds up his hands in innocence.  “Do you want to talk about it?” 
Your narrow your eyes at him because how dare he interrupt you right now with his genuine love and care for you. 
“No.” you reply firmly, putting your earbud back in. 
You go to start cleaning, but Joel is saying something else before you can even pick up the rag. 
You rip your earbud out again and actually snap at him this time with a “What Joel?!”  
Joel tilts his head with his eyebrows raised, giving you a silent warning to lose the attitude. 
But the last thing you need right now is someone else telling you what to do. 
“Can I please just clean the damn kitchen in peace?” you ask, your words biting a little harder than you intended but you don’t care. 
Joel stares at you for a good five seconds, his jaw subtly shifting and clenching as he grinds his teeth. 
“Okay.”
That’s all he says before turning away and walking out of the room. 
You immediately feel a pang of guilt seeing him walk away, but the anger is quick to wash it away and cloud your head again. 
You spend the next thirty minutes scouring the kitchen from top to bottom. Every cabinet door and every drawer you open is shut with a slam and you scrub the countertops so vigorously that your arm is starting to get sore. 
Thinking he’s given you enough time, Joel comes back in, standing near you as you scrub away at the spot of burnt on food on the stovetop. You can see him in your peripheral, standing a foot or two away from you but you ignore him. You already told him to leave you alone once. 
He stands there for a few moments, trying to get you to look over at him but he eventually gives up and just takes out one of your earbuds. 
The saying “seeing red” never made much sense to you until just now. 
“What the hell, Joel!” you shout, finally turning to face him. The anger boils up inside of you and you can feel your whole body heat up you try to snatch your earbud back from him but he’s faster than you and holds it up high to where you can’t reach. 
“Joel I’m so fucking serious right now, just leave me alo-” 
Joel takes out your other earbud and tosses them to the counter behind him before you can say anything else. 
“Joel!” you nearly scream, your face red hot with anger now. 
“Quit acting like a fuckin’ brat” Joel says quietly, his tone serious and stern.
“I’m not being a fucking brat, you’re the one annoying the shit out of me right now” 
Joel’s eyes narrow, trying to mask his shock at your attitude. You’re rarely ever this angry and you almost never take it out on Joel like this. 
“Drop this attitude right now and I’ll give you one more chance and act like you didn’t just fucking say that” Joel says, his voice audibly tenser. 
You roll your eyes and reach for your earbuds again, but again, Joel is faster than you and pins your wrist to the counter with his hand. 
“Joel, just fuck off” you mutter. His grip on your wrist is so tight that your fingers are starting to tingle from the restricted blood flow. You look up at him and immediately realize how fucked you are. His face is hard as stone, a deep frown tugging at his lips while he stares holes into your own eyes. 
“Okay, baby. You want to act like a brat, I’ll treat you like a fuckin’ brat” Joel spits before tugging harshly on your wrist and dragging you out of the kitchen. 
“Joel, I am not in the mood right now” you say as he leads you to the living room, nearly pulling your arm out of socket as he does. 
“I don’t give a fuck.” Joel says firmly. He stops near the couch and release his grasp on your wrist. 
“Now get on your knees and shut that mouth up with my cock.” 
You snort at his words and laugh right in his face. 
“You think I’m going to blow you right now? You’re the one who should be apologizing to me” you snarl, accusingly poking him in the chest to emphasize your words.  
Joel is still as a rock as he stares at you again, the darkness in his eyes already starting to break down some the resolve inside of you. 
“You’re gonna regret that, baby.” Joel whispers from behind clenched teeth. 
Without another word, Joel grips your wrist once again and steps towards the couch. He sits down and pulls you until you’re standing in front of him before pulling down your shorts and panties in one go. He then pulls you down into his lap and even though you try to fight back, Joel is a lot stronger than you and easily maneuvers you until you’re on your stomach laying across his lap with your face pressed against the couch cushion and your ass in the air. Joel keeps a firm hand on the back of your neck, pinning your head to the couch with your face smushed against the cushion. 
He uses his other hand to rub your ass, the soft shorts you put on earlier easily riding up and exposing most of your skin. You try to wiggle out of his grasp but there’s no use. He’s not letting go of you now. 
“How many do you think you deserve?” Joel asks, his voice steady and calm again now that he has you like this. 
You don’t say anything, just humph and try to squirm out from underneath his hold again. Bad idea. The grip on the back of your neck tightens and then the room is filled with the loud crack of his hand coming down heavy on your ass. 
You yelp in surprise, tingles of pain radiating from the spot here he spanked you. Your determination to keep up this attitude is quickly crumbling. Joel knew exactly how to put you back in your place. 
“I think at least 10” Joel says before delivering two more harsh smacks to both cheeks. You bite back a whimper, still enough willpower to try and not let him see how affected you actually are. “Starting now.” 
Your eyes roll back, and your brows furrow deeply as he gives you another hard spank. The moan in your throat comes out through your nose as a sharp exhale as you keep wiggling in his lap. 
Joel’s hand comes down on you again, the loud sound echoing in the otherwise silent house. “And we’re gonna start over if you don’t count them for me.” 
Another spank has your eyes squeezing shut. “That’s three then” you pant.  
“Nope, we’re starting from the beginning” Joel says before connecting his palm to your ass again. “That’s one.” 
You try twisting out of his grip once again and his next smack is even harder. 
“Stop trying to escape or I’m gonna add more. Now count for me” 
You stop wiggling, slowly starting to accept defeat. 
“Two.” 
Joel hums in approval and lands another harsh smack to your cheek. 
“Three” you say obediently, still trying to cover the tremor in your voice. You’re still fuming and the fact that he has you pinned down like this, completely unable to move is fueling your fire. 
Another smack.
“Four.” 
By the nineth, you’re clinging to the last shred of your control. Your cheeks are burning hot, your skin raised in the shape of Joel’s handprint. By now, you can feel him fully hard pressing against your abdomen. 
“Nine.��� 
Joel can hear the tremble in your voice now, clear as day. He silently rubs his palm over your cheek, soothing the warm, swollen skin. 
His soft touch is gone as soon as it came, his fingers quickly finding your slit instead. With no warning, he plunges two fingers inside of you, easily curling his fingertips against your g-spot. 
“Yeah, I knew you’d be fuckin’ soaked” Joel says with a breathless chuckle as he keeps prodding against your spot, the lewd sounds of his fingers moving inside you echoing around the room. You cry out in surprise as Joel relentlessly punches his fingers against the spot that sends massive waves of hot liquid pleasure up your spine. You try to swallow your moans, still refusing to give in to him all the way and bite your lip until you taste the metallic tang of blood.  
“Just give it up, baby. I know you want to” Joel coos. And he’s right, you want nothing more than to just give it up and let him put you in your place. But you can’t give up just yet. This wasn’t the first time Joel has punished you and every time he does, there’s something inside you, an urge to find out how far Joel will take your punishments. 
So, you shake your head as much as you can with his hand still holding your neck against the couch cushion.
 Joel clicks his tongue disapprovingly letting you know that you made another bad choice. You suppress a groan when he pulls his fingers out of you. He takes his hand off your neck and grips both of your cheeks and spreads you open. You quietly hiss at the bite of the cold air against your burning wet heat. 
“Such a pretty pussy” Joel whispers as he leans over to get a good look. It takes everything in you not to moan and wiggle your hips in his face as he keeps you spread open and inspects you. 
Then there’s the sound of Joel spitting behind you. You swallow thickly, pushing down another moan once you feel the warm liquid dribble onto your skin and slide down between your cheeks. Your chest tightens at the sensation, and you bite your cheek as a hot wave of arousal crashes down over you. 
He sits up straight again, his hand quickly coming back to wrap around the back of your neck and hold you in place again. With his other hand, he finds your puckered hole and rubs over it with the pad of his thumb, using his spit as lube. You let out one small whine when the tip of it catches on your rim. 
“C’mon, angel. Lemme hear those pretty sounds and I’ll let you cum” Joel presses.
You can’t possibly hold out any longer. Not with your skin hot and burning from your spanking, his fingers pushing hard against your g-spot, his thumb teasing your asshole and the big, strong hand holding you down by your fucking neck. 
There’s nothing you can do to stop the loud moan that tumbles past your lips as he moves his fingers reach deeper inside of you until he presses a spot even deeper inside you. 
“There it is” Joel sighs, his chest swelling with pride as you tremble and start to fall apart underneath him. “That’s a good girl.” 
He stays in position for a little longer, your pretty sounds filling the room as he gives you exactly what you need. You’re already close because of course Joel knows how to get you there in just a couple of minutes. He knows your body almost better than his, knows what makes you tick and recognizes all of your signs. 
So, it’s not surprising that he hears the specific moans and can feel the way that you clench around his fingers, wordlessly letting him know that you’re about to reach the edge. 
And it shouldn’t be surprising when he suddenly slips his fingers out of you and lands a final smack to your ass, heavier and louder than all the others, but it still makes you cry out. You whimper at the loss of his touch and the way the burning pain radiating from his hits mixes so deliciously with the pleasure coursing through your veins. 
“Count, angel” Joel says calmly, giving you a friendly reminder that you’re still in trouble.  Five minutes ago, you would’ve ripped his head off for saying that. But obeying is a lot easier when you’re teetering on the edge of an orgasm. 
“Ten. Ten, sir. Thank you” you mewl. You know that he’s probably not going to let you cum soon. You’ve been here enough times to know that much. Still, you wiggle your hips, hoping that he’d go easy on you and slide his fingers back inside you. But Joel is not known for going easy on anyone.
“Good girl using your manners” Joel praises. “But you were a very bad girl earlier. Do you think bad girls deserve to cum?” he asks, quickly washing away any of your hopes of an orgasm in the near future. 
Joel doesn’t say anything else as he maneuvers you again, pushing your legs to the ground and holding down on your shoulders until you’re kneeling in front of him while he remains seated on the couch. 
You look up at him with wide eyes, your chest heaving as your knees dig into the hardwood floors underneath you as you stay still and quietly wait for his instructions. You have no fight left in you, completely surrendering to him just in hopes of being able to cum at least once tonight. 
Joel smiles down at you and cups your jaw. You immediately nuzzle against his palm and bat your eyelashes innocently at him. 
“Now suck my cock like a good girl I know you are.” 
You follow Joel’s command easily and reach for the waistband of his sweatpants. You pull down his pants and boxers to his mid-thigh, his hard cock slapping up against his lower abdomen. 
With no other preface, you take him in your mouth, your lips wrapped around his tip as you roll your tongue all around his sensitive head. And apparently that’s more than enough teasing for Joel because his hand comes up to the back of your head and forces you down his length. 
You gag at the sudden intrusion and try to quickly recover, not wanting to give Joel another reason to punish you more. His hand remains heavy on your head, holding you in place with his cock down your throat as you drool around him for a few more seconds, your cunt throbbing between your legs as he uses you. 
“Gonna fuck that attitude right out your smart little mouth” Joel huffs. 
You give a small nod, and he lets go of your head, letting you pull off for a breath. He watches you intently as gasp for air, smirking when you start to cough. 
“My cock too big for you, angel?” Joel teases as he brings a thumb to the corner of your mouth to wipe up your drool before pushing it back in your mouth. You shake your head no and Joel smiles at you and removes his thumb so you can talk. 
“No, sir. I can take it” you reply breathlessly. 
“Yeah, I know you can, angel. Now show me how good you can be for me.” 
With another small nod you take him back in your mouth. His hand returns to the back your head and he rolls his hips up, pushing himself down your throat.
You stay as still as possible, keeping your mouth and throat open and letting Joel fuck your throat. You’ve had him in your mouth almost every day since the first month you met him, but your jaw already starts to ache like it’s impossible to get used to the sheer size of his cock. Drool starts to spill out of the corner of your mouth again and you shamelessly let it run down your chin.
Joel shows no mercy, bucking up into you like he’s completely disregarding the fact that you need to breathe. But you know he’s not. You know he has a careful eye on you, watching for signs that he’s pushing you too far. 
“Takin’ me so well, angel. Knew you could be good for me” Joel grunts, encouraging you to keep going as the hand on your head briefly pets your hair. 
All the anger that had been building for the past couple of days has dissipated. All the stress about your job and your ridiculous boss were miles away and now the only thing you're thinking about is Joel's thick cock down your throat.
You stay there for what feels like forever and allow him to use you as he pleases. Your neglected pussy clenches desperately around nothing, slick leaking down your thighs because how could you not be turned on with Joel using you like his personal fucktoy. 
You’re now drooling everywhere, absolutely soaking his cock as you breathe heavily through your nose, your eyelids heavy. And as much as Joel wants to continue to fuck your mouth until your jaw breaks, he can’t hold back his own pleasure for much longer. 
After a couple more thrusts down your throat, he abruptly pulls out and His hand is a blur as you watch him fist himself for a couple of seconds until he starts to cum. His moans and little whimpers send fire straight to your core as he paints your face with hot ropes of cum. He’s messy with it, letting it get everywhere, your chin, your mouth, your cheeks, and your hair. You mewl quietly and press your thighs together searching for any sort of friction on your dripping pussy as Joel marks you, claiming you as his.  
You patiently wait for him come back down, listening his quiet groans as he pumps out every drop. 
Finally, with a heavy sigh, he leans back against the couch and drops his hand from your head again. 
“You look so pretty all covered in my cum, angel” Joel says with a lopsided smile. You smile sweetly back at him, your eyelashes fluttering against your flushed cheek. He swipes a thumb through the mess on your cheek and slides it past your lips. You suck his thumb clean, swallowing down everything he gives you. 
He revels in the sensation of you suckling on his thumb for a little bit before slipping it out with a soft pop. You look up at him, waiting for his next instruction with the hopes of having your own release soon. 
“Knew you could be good, angel. Now go finish cleaning the kitchen and then I’ll think about letting you cum.” 
Your jaw drops as you stare up at him with wide eyes. Joel just laughs cruelly at your expression. 
“But...but Joel, please I want-”
“Should’ve thought about that earlier, angel. You know bad girls don’t get to cum. Now get up and finish cleaning” Joel says with a sickeningly sweet tone. You blink at him a few more times hoping he’d miraculously change his mind. 
But he doesn’t. So, with your attitude completely gone now, you follow his directions and shakily stand up. You give him one more pathetic, pleading look but he just smirks back at you. Accepting defeat, you turn and walk back to the kitchen.  
“And don’t even think about cleanin’ your face yet” Joel calls out from behind you. 
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Ty for reading hugs and smoochies for all of you!!!
2K notes · View notes
ksmline · 4 months
Text
star [bang chan x reader]
you first catch sight of chan at an award show, and you just have to have him.
pairing: stray kids bang chan x female!reader
info/warnings: NSFW!!, reader is an actress but it kind of unintentionally ends up becoming irrelevant to the smut part. porn without plot, inconsistent writing style, kind of rushed, GENDERED TERMS (pretty girl, etc), unprotected sex
word count: 1.6k
it's my first time writing smut so if you're reading this you're just going to have to forgive me.
i only want ADULTS who are 18+ interacting with this post. any minors interacting with this post or following this blog WILL promptly be blocked.
never in your life have you drooled over a man like this. you’re used to people drooling over you— the super hot, super successful mega star actress with a face card so lethal it could kill a person. as such, you’ve never really had to do much of anything at all to get guys you’re interested in. they flock to you like moths to a flame.
this is why you’re in a dilemma now, standing next to this fucking hunk of a man at some award show you don’t even remember the purpose of. you’ve only been able to steal so many glances through your peripheral vision, at the risk of alerting your hyper vigilant fans, but it’s more than enough to send a heat rushing between your legs. the slope of his nose, his pretty pink lips, the expanse of his chest peeking through his loose silk shirt, the veins on his hands … he turns around to say something to his teammate (the blonde haired doe eyed pretty boy with the freckles), and you catch his accent. fucking hell. you want this man. you hunger for this man.
you hear the blonde guy say his name. chan. you don’t think you’ll get to use it tonight; as confident and extroverted as you usually are, chan has sent you into this helpless haze where even if somebody were to say hi to you it’d cause your entire system to malfunction and shut down. you want him to like you so bad. you want him to think you’re pretty and hot and sexy and tell you the things you hear all the time anyway but in a much more intimate way with that sexy accent of his. you want him to take you to bed and have you whichever way he pleases.
you can feel how red your ears are, and you couldn’t have been more glad that your hair is styled down right now. you don’t even know what’s more embarrassing, the fact that you are this horny for a stranger in public, or this girlish, childish crush on him that you developed in under the five minutes that you guys have been standing next to each other. at this point, all you really can do is wait for this whole thing to be over so you can go back home, search his name online, finger yourself to the first video of him you see, and then try to fall asleep and will him away from your thoughts. it’s not like you’ll see him again after tonight. right?
anywho, you somehow make it through the event. it’s mostly thanks to the management reseating the attendees for whatever reason, and chan being at a safer distance from you, but you give yourself a pat on the back regardless. for someone who’s only come to grapple with the concept of having a crush instead of being someone else’s for once just an hour ago, you’ve handled it quite well. as discreetly as you can with a million cameras flashing in your face, anyway.
the show’s over now, and nearly all the celebrities are gone. chan and his group fell back so they could say bye to their fans, but now security’s shooing the last of them out. your team makes to usher you out to your car, and you watch (more comfortably now that your fans are out of the picture) as the stray kids boys begin to file into their vans too. you stare at chan’s back as he hurries behind them, a regretful yearning oozing from your eyes.
your manager is quick to catch on, a devilish smile beginning to play on her lips. you turn around, about to disagree with whatever’s about to come out of her mouth, and— fuck, fuck, fuck.
chan’s coming back. he’s coming back and he’s headed towards you. you don’t even know if he’s going to approach you or walk past you, maybe to go get something he forgot, but you start panicking anyway, eyes darting all over the place to avoid meeting his. christ, you’ve never been such a mess before, especially for a guy. you don’t have time to ponder this now, because chan’s standing in front of you, leaving you to take him in in all his glory. 
you say a quick word to your manager, something about meeting up with her by the car later, and the team disperses. it then takes everything in you to pull yourself together and channel your collected, professional actress disposition before facing chan properly.
 “hi there.” you flash him your best smile. “can i help you?”
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“fucking hell,” chan curses, pushing you against the hotel door as he holds your leg straddled around his waist. you keep your mouth on his, pulling your dress up and around your hips. your wet panties grind against his clothed bulge, and he lets out the horniest, most pornographic moan into your mouth. you take this as your cue to finally reach down between you and touch him, palming his bulge. you’re just about to unzip his fly, before he pulls away. 
you must look confused, hurt almost, because he reaches out to caress your cheek with a gentleness that contrasts literally everything you guys have been doing so far. “not like this, baby. properly.” and then he makes you straddle him tighter, carrying you to the bed and laying you down. then he kisses you again, all soft and wet. his hand disappears beneath your dress, stroking your pussy. you lean into him, mouth falling open in much awaited relief. he keeps talking. “need to make you feel good, too.”
and that he does. just as you feel like you could cum just from this, chan pulls his hand away, and proceeds to spread your legs out as much as he can. then he falls back over you, pulling your dress down just enough for your tits to pop out fully. his eyes glaze over. you look divine; baring your wet panties to him, breasts so round and soft and perfect. he licks his fingers before using them to play with your now hard nipple.
“you’re so fucking sexy, you know that?” chan fondles your boobs, patting them gently so they jiggle. you jerk, only being able to nod in your sex hungry state. “i tried so hard to keep from getting hard at the award show. could only think of you and these pretty, round tits.” 
you grab his wrist and shove it inside your panties, using it to get yourself off. “was so wet for you, chan.” your eyes roll back. “the entire award show. i was this wet for you. see? feel. i was— ah, fuck— so wet … almost— almost gave in and t-touched myself in front of everyone. i was— i was so embarrassed, channie.”
“oh my god. fucking hell, me too, baby.” he’s palming his bulge again, touching himself to your words. “kept thinking about what you were hiding under this slutty fucking dress. wanted to see all of you. wanted to see these big, fat tits, and this dripping wet pussy.”
you cum all over his hand, eyes glassy and mouth open. usually, you’d be embarrassed. but not with chan. you feel so naughty, this feels so wrong but you still feel more aroused than you’ve ever been with any man. you show him his hand, all wet with your slick. “look, channie.”
“i’m looking, honey.” he uses his wet hand, rubbing your cum onto your nipples. “can you show me more of you? if that’s okay?” you nod. “good girl.”
chan finally takes off your sopping wet panties, exposing your clit to him, shining with your juices. he pulls you to sit up, reaching over to rearrange you so you’re on all fours. “there we go, pretty girl.” he runs his index finger through your folds, marveling at how much you came. then he presses his tongue to your pussy, licking and sucking at it before adding his fingers to the mix.
“oh, fuck. chan, ah—” 
he brings you to your breaking point once more, before pulling away to unbuckle his pants. he uses the tip of cock and rubs it against your pussy as he strokes himself, both of you moaning like never before.
when he finally enters you, it feels like you’ve ascended. you’ve never taken a cock as big as chan’s before. fuck, you feel so full. he’s a fucking menace, reaching a hand in front to continue rubbing your clit throughout, the other hand fondling your bouncing breasts. this, plus the feeling of his balls slapping against your skin is more than enough to bring you over the edge. 
chan pulls out, pushing you back on to your back. he continues pumping himself with his hand, before cumming all over your pussy with a loud, relieved groan. then he collapses beside you, entire body flushed red as he pants audibly. 
he looks pretty like this, too, you think, and then marvel at how far gone you are. you lean into his warmth, and hesitate before finally reaching out to hold his hand. he’s still for a moment, and you’re about to shyly retract from him before he grabs your hand properly and kisses it with the biggest grin on his face. you’ll figure out your situation in the morning, but right now you’re more than happy to stay with him like this, even more so when he pulls you deeper into him and cradles you gently, letting you fall asleep as he rubs your back.
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minteyeddevil · 1 year
Text
Reactions to Calling Them Husband
(Silly little headcanon my sister and I were talking about, and also inspired by those dorky videos on tiktok lol.)
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Lucifer:
You were at an event at the Demon Lord’s castle, surrounded by demons who were very interested in the human that seemed to tame the seven demon lords. Many of them surrounded you, asking you questions and just all around obsessing over you to the point where you were feeling overwhelmed.
As if sensing your unease, Lucifer was at your side instantly, his hand at the small of your back. “Need rescuing?” he teased, using his wings to barricade you away from some of the other demons.
You smiled up at him and as you were stepping away, you addressed a demon still trying to talk to you: “Sorry, I need to step away with my husband. Bye now.”
This made him almost stop in his tracks; almost. But he did stare down at you with the smallest sign of awe on his face that you would be brave enough to address him as ‘husband’ to another demon.
Once alone and out of ear shot of the others, he leans down and whispers to you: “Bold of you to address me as such in front of of the lesser demons. Can you imagine the rumors that are going to spread now?”
He silently enjoys the panicked look that spreads on your face for a moment before smirking and adding, “Not that I mind, of course. It will only cement that the wonderful human is all mine.”
Expect him to have a hand on you the rest of the evening and will smirk and beam the entire time if you address him as your husband again.
Mammon:
The two of you were at Hell’s Kitchen, having a small dinner together in celebration of passing your exams; Mammon by the skin of his teeth, but he still passed! When the waiter came up to take your orders, you looked at Mammon out of your peripherals, deciding now was the best time as ever to try out the new ‘prank’ you saw going around on Devilgram.
“Yes, I’ll have the sauteed wild hair liver, and my husband will have the shadow goose meat and egg lasagna. Thank you!”
He practically spit out his drink and just stared at you for a moment. Your smirk at him makes him fluster but he clears his throat and does his best to smirk right back at you.
“O-Of course you’d want the Great Mammon to be your husband! I’m the best demon out there and you’d better count your blessings that I would want a dumb human like you as my partner!”
You cross your arms and raise an eyebrow at him, and he clears his throat again, taking one of your hands in his. “Okay, okay! You aren’t a dumb human at all. In fact...you’re the best thing that has ever happened ta me. Would...would ya really want me as your husband, MC?”
You throw your arms around his shoulders and kiss his cheek over and over at how sweet he is, and assure him that of course you would love to marry this dorky demon.
Leviathan:
The two of you were gaming away in his room, when he asked if you could order something for the two of you to eat. You knew the usual place he loved to get food from and decided to call them up; but a wicked idea came to mind as well. You wanted to see how he would react to you pulling that new prank that was going around.
You rang up the restaurant and began ordering the food the two of you wanted: “Yes, hi! Can I place an order for delivery? I would like a backstabbing sandwich with a blood strawberry juice, and my husband would like a spicy rainbow pizza with bufo egg milk tea...”
His headphones got thrown off the moment he heard you call him ‘husband’, and he was at your side in an instant.
“Husband? Did you just call me your husband?”
“Yes. Now shush I am trying to listen.“
He freaks out and flails a bit around the room, repeating the word ‘husband’ over and over. Until you are finally off the phone does he cling to you.
“Would you really want me to be your husband? This gross, ugly--”
You kiss him to silence his tiraid. “Of course, I would love for you to be my husband, Levi.”
Totally changes your usernames to something dorky to symbolize your relationships going to the next level.
Satan:
You two are hanging out in his room, studying together for some exams coming up at RAD. He is the best tutor you know of, so of course you are clinging to him for dear life to help you pass. But, he is also the love of your life, so spending any time with him is wonderful for the two of you.
You were sitting on his bed, finishing up a study sheet, when you noticed that you would need another one of his books that was across the room. You looked over to him and gave him the best puppy eyes you could.
“Hubby, do you mind getting that book for me?”
He got up to get said book, but froze midway in his movement. “Hubby? As in...husband?”
“Yes,” you tease, and suddenly he is on you, no book in hand whatsoever.
“Did you really just call me your husband? Because if you did, you are going to have to call me that again, and in front of my brothers. I hope you know what you are signing up for.”
“Clearly I know,” you say with a smirk as you push back against him. “Husband.”
Needless to say, there wasn’t much more studying getting done the rest of that evening.
Asmodeus:
Shopping was a favorite past-time for the both of you, and it was always done together. He was your personal stylist and you a literal model for him; it was quite the exchange, but very enjoyable for the two of you.
You were perusing a section of brightly colored clothing, when you decided to get his full attention: “Hubby, do you think this would look good on me?”
He was at your side instantly. “Did you...did you just call me hubby?” His eyes are wide and he has the biggest smile on his face.
“It just felt natural to call you that. I hope that’s okay.”
“Okay!? It’s beyond okay! Oh my gosh I can’t believe you called me your husband! We need to take a picture and post about it on Devilgram!”
He continues to gush about being your husband, and address himself as such to anyone who gives him an ounce of attention.
Also, totally takes you to a jewelry store to find matching rings for the both of you to wear to seal the deal.
Beelzebub:
You were cooking in the kitchen, when you figured you needed some help reaching for something high in the cabinets. Beel was usually the one around when it was your turn to make dinner, so you decided to call for him.
When he didn’t reply, you tried again: “Beel? Beelzebub!?”
You let out a heavy sigh, and decided to try something new to get his attention. “Where is my helpful husband when I need him!?”
He appeared in the doorway almost instantly, a look of shock and surprise on his face. “Did you...just call me your husband?”
You laugh at the shocked look on his face and motion for him to come help you. “If you don’t get this for me, I might just take it back...”
He moved so fast. You couldn’t help but laugh at his eagerness to help you. He even offered to carry you on his shoulders to get things higher up as needed.
He stayed by your side while you were cooking, his eyes never leaving you. As if he couldn’t take it anymore, he wrapped his around your middle and nuzzled into your cheek.
“Could you...call me your husband again?”
you turned in his arms and hugged him close. “As many times as you like.”
Belphegor:
The two of you were cuddled up together, watching a movie. The idea had been gnawing at the back of your head for some time now, so you figured you were try out the prank on him and see what his reaction would be.
you turned to him and asked, “Husband, could you get us some popcorn from the kitchen, please?”
“Sure,” he mumbled, and got up to head to kitchen. He disappeared through the doorway, and for a minute you thought he didn’t really hear you; until he shot back into the room.
“Wait...did you call me ‘husband’?”
You broke into laughter at the look of confusion on his face, and reassured him that you indeed called him that. He smirked at you and came up to you, towering over you on the couch.
“So I’m your husband now,” he chuckled, leaning down to nuzzle you. “Better make sure you keep calling me that. I really like how it sounds.”
Diavolo:
You knew you had to be careful pulling this prank with Diavolo, given his status and reputation in the Devildom. So it was best to do it when it was just the two of you alone. Given that he had invited you for tea, you figured it would be fun to try it.
You arrived at the Demon Lord’s castle, and Barbatos escorted you to the little room where you both would usually have tea. There was already an assortment of cookies and sweets set up along with the hot tea, and Diavolo was smiling widely when you took your seat.
After a bit of conversation, you figured now was the best time to try it: “Husband, could you pass me a few of those cookies please?”
He was reaching out for said cookies, when he froze and gave you the most dumbfounded look, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. But it was soon replaced with a beaming smile.
“Husband? I really like the sound of that.”
He took your hand in his, and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. “I don’t mind at all if you wish to call me that more often...”
Barbatos:
You were spending time with him in the kitchen of the Demon Lord’s castle, watching him work and move around with ease. He was so handsome and joy to your eyes that you couldn’t help but sigh out loud.
“Aren’t I the luckiest, having such a handsome husband.”
If you looked closely, you could catch the slightest hitch in what he was doing; but he kept working as if nothing happened.
For a moment you thought he was going to ignore you; or maybe he hadn’t really heard you given that it was such a small mumble from your brain to begin with. But instead, he said:
“And I the luckiest in return to have such a doting partner.”
you flustered, only the blush even more when he turned around to look at you and walked over to lean and press a kiss to your forehead.
“If you intend to be a distraction, I hate to admit it’s working. My precious little partner.”
Simeon:
You were curled up with him, reading a book together, when a shiver ran through your body. You tried snuggling up to him more, but eventually caved and asked if he had a blanket you could use.
He covered you up and cuddled under the blanket with you, an around wrapping around you to hold you close, and you gave contented sigh.
“Thank you, love. You’re such a good husband.”
You said it so causally that it seemed to go unnoticed for a moment; until you felt him tense next to you. He turned a bit to face you, eyes wide.
“Husband? Me?”
“Of course,” you assure him. “You are so kind and caring towards me, and always take care of me. I love you, my precious husband.”
He felt his heart thudding in his chest so hard he swore it would break right through his ribs. He pulled you into a tight hug and places kisses all over your head and face.
“I do hope that you will keep calling me that. It makes me feel so special...”
Solomon:
He had come to visit you while you were in the human realm, and the two of you were walking around the park near your house when you got a phone call from one of the brothers.
He didn’t mind the interruption; but part of him did feel jealous you were talking to one of the brothers, up until you said, “Oh, I am spending the day with my husband.”
He could hear the screaming coming from the phone and laughed along with you at their reaction; but he then leaned in close to you once you were off the phone and whispered, “So I am your husband now?”
“If you want to be,” you teased in return, placing a hand on his chest.
“Oh, I truly do,” he replied, pulling you in for a tight hug and kiss.
From that point on, he referred to himself as your husband to anyone you came into contact with, including the brothers whenever they called and you were around him.
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tpwkwriter · 4 months
Note
different situatons where h gets jealous and possesive of reader
i just imagined it and im gonna dieee
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Ooohhh🤭 another headcannon coming your way!
Warnings: cussing, mentions of Alcohol, drunkeness, jealousy, violence😭
————————jealousy, jealousy—————————
Because of his high status and his constant surroundings of celebrities, fans, paparazzi, TMZ agents harry always had a watchful eye of his girl.It’s not that he didn’t trust y/n, it was the eyes of others he didn’t. Harry’s love for y/n was something so different, he had never felt such love and pride in his girl, he truly loved y/n.
“The returning ex”
Despite this man of y/n’s past being long gone and simply a college fling it still never made sense to why he would occasionally pop back up in Harry’s and y/n’s shared life.
It was a friends birthday party being held at there usual club, y/n remainder sat on a barstool at the bar happy to watch the room of drunks and dancers while Harry was socialising with various friends and work mates around the room, still cautious and aware of his pretty girl sitting at the bar.
“Y/n” a familiar voice heckled.
“James” y/n muttered under her breath.
And there he was the man who took everything from y/n and left within 1 night, despite his actions being many years ago y/n still couldn’t bring her self to be nice to him.
“How are ya” he asked, helping himself to the stool next to her.
“M’Fine” she blankly answered.
“Good, good” he said sipping on his bottled beer.
“Where is he then? The world renounced Popstar?” He asked clearly getting straight to the point.
“That would be me mate”
James’ figure slouched once he saw his replacement.
“M’harry” he said from behind y/n moving forward so he could shake his hand.
“James” he answered shaking his hand.
Harry took no further time in pulling a stool out and sitting himself as close to y/n as he possibly could and putting his hand around her waist.
“I suppose I won’t interrupt anymore, see ya round y/n”
“You scared him away” she laughed.
“Means v’done my job” he said meeting her lips.
“Stage side drama”
If able to, y/n attended most shows, whether that be backstage, side of the stage, in a tier surrounded by bodyguards courtesy of Harry.
She loved it all so much and it never got old.
The loud intro to kiwi filled the stadium, the lights go crazy and the fans give it all they have.
Y/n was in Harrys peripheral all night, the sight of y/n dancing, singing taking the occasional video/photo and making eye contact with her when a song is dedicated to her it reminded him why he did all this.
Y/n was standing to the right side of the stage watching her lover do what he did very best, it wasn’t until she felt a cold arm snake around her waist.
“Enjoying your night” Micheal Harry’s friend whispered into hair.
Harry regretted ever allowing Micheal meet y/n, he was convinced he would make advances if he wasn’t around.
“Very much so” she replied facing him allowing him to lip read over the speakers.
Harry quickly glanced over to his girl and when he saw his “friend” mindlessly wrapping his arms around his girlfriends waist.
H was already high on adrenaline it didn’t take much to push him off the edge.
After the infamous whale, and endless kisses and ‘thank yous’ to the crowd, and still much to his disgust in his peripheral vision, Micheal was still finding any exscuse to be as close to her as he could.
While waving to the sea of people, he speed off of to the side of stage to finally be reunited with his girl, and do something about this Micheal.
“Baby!!” She squealed removing herself from Michael’s loose embrace and throwing herself into her much more comfortable hold instead.
Without a word he just holds her tighter and presses kisses along her hairline, with two hands gently cupping her head, he pulls her out of his chest so he can rest his forehead on hers and speak only to her.
“Love, can you follow the rest of the band f’me and I’ll meet you on the tourbus alright? M’just gonna find Glenn back here?”
She nods and presses a kiss to him, she’s been meaning to that for a while now, the sound of Micheal huffing and puffing behind them really made Harry satisfied.
“I love you, and make sure you stay with them alright” he says against her lips, before slowly releasing her.
“I love you and don’t be too long” she smiles before hurrying off to find the rest, “bye Micheal” she utters before whipping round the corner.
Little to the girls knowledge Glenn wasn’t even here, he just wanted to have a chat with Micheal, perhaps a kind warning.
“You really got lucky with her man” Micheal laughs.
“Yeah, yeah, I did mate I really did, and because of that I’d rather you keep your hands to yourself” he stated, keeping his calm stature but a serious tone.
“Your Harry fucking styles, you could have any chick in the world, and your mad at me for having an arm round a basic girl” he laughs, not catching the drift.
Say what want about him, but y/n, no that’s the line.
With the adrenaline still flowing through his veins, he didn’t fear much at this very moment. It wasn’t until Micheal was backed against a wall that Harry realised he was getting closer to the idle man.
“Say that again” he coldly said.
“I said tha-“
Let’s just say that Micheal was lucky Harry had various security and staff surrounding the backstage area.
“And they called it puppy love”
Y/n had been practically begging for any sort of pet ever since her and Harry moved in together, a companion to keep her company when Harry’s out on the road, y/n worked from home, and there was a puppy needing a home, what could be the problem?
The problem lies where little buddy (there black Labrador) grew quiet clingy and protective of y/n to the extent where even a hug would set the little man off.
“Fuckin’ hell bud” he said, referring to the pup who was currently barking at Harry because of his hand resting on his mums thigh.
“He’s just making sure his mummy’s safe aren’t you baby” she said adoringly picking up the pooch and holding it to her chest where he happily wagged his tail and snuggles into her scent.
Harry then tried again, seeing that the puppy was snuggled in her neck trying to rest, he this time cuddles into his girlfriends side, resting his hand in it’s original place on her thigh and pressing kisses to her shoulder.
However the bliss only lasted around 3 minutes, before the pup found out and started again.
“Oh bud shush your noise” she gently scolded, moving him carefully onto the sofa space next to her.
However buddy made his way back on y/n’s lap and countinued to bark at Harry making it clear that y/n was his mum.
Tired and in need of some TLC, Harry called it a night.
“Bloody pup, I’m going to bed, it’s clear it’s not me he wants” he says patting her thigh and getting up from his position.
“Babe it’s okay, he needs to get used you being around me-“
“No y/n, as long as he’s here we aren’t gonna get any time together” he huffed as he made his way out of the living room and up the stairs.
“I think daddy’s a little mad…and jealous” she whispered to the pup.
Once y/n gently placed the pup in its bed, she headed up to find her sulky boyfriend who was found still sat up against the headboard scrolling on his phone.
“Harry” she began, sliding herself into her side of the bed.
“C’mere” she softly said.
To which he did, he enjoyed feeling that slight bit more vulnerable around the girl, and slid into her arms resting on her chest, she loved using her fingertips to play with the soft curls that sat above his head.
“M’sorry” he mumbled against her chest.
“Don’t be silly, got nothing to be sorry for” she chuckled quietly.
“I was jealous of our fucking dog, s’not right y/n” he continues.
“Hey, hey, I get it, it’s okay, and we will get round to training him promise” she confirms countinue long to comb his hair.
“I know, I know, jus’ don’t like sharing you, you were mine first” he says a low chuckle leaving his lips.
“S’okay, m’always yours, no matter what”
“Unless we get another puppy..then my hands may be a bit full” she added, a small smile curling on both there lips.
“You’d be so lucky” he groaned
——————————————————————————
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delcakoo · 1 year
Text
pity party ₊˚ރ⊹゛p.sh
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SUMMARY ! when everyone forgets sunghoon’s birthday, he ends up finding comfort from a warmhearted stranger on the bus ride home.
PAIRING ! stranger!sunghoon x gn!reader
WC ! 800
GENRE ! fluff, slight angst and comforting sad hoon :c
a/n: sorry it’s short, just a lil’ thing for our birthday boy <3
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sunghoon’s eyes were getting watery, and he hated that. a lot.
his birthday isn’t a big deal, he isn’t twelve anymore; he should just be grateful for what he has, wipe away his cascading tears and man the hell up.
but as he slides onto the public bus and scans down the aisle full of exhausted college students, old drunkards, and middle aged mother’s gossiping on calls with their kids fidgeting frantically next to them, he can’t find himself caring when all their eyes lock onto his teary red face, pink bottom lip trembling as he sniffles every few seconds.
he makes his way down the column of busy seats, mindlessly plopping down onto the first free one he comes across. and at last, he reaches his hand up, wiping the salty droplets off his puffy cheeks sorrowfully.
god, he was being such a wimp.
before he could beat himself up any further, a hesitant soft voice abruptly interrupts him. “are.. are you okay?”
sunghoon whips his head to his left, brows rising at the sight of soft eyes glistening with worry and concern towards him, despite being a complete stranger.
you were attiring a puffy winter coat and a bright green scarf, one hand gripping onto the tote bag resting carefully by your chocolate shaded boots.
he gulps and wipes his face again, feeling even more humiliated with his current state. “y-yeah, thanks,” he barely voices out.
sunghoon watches in his peripheral vision as you continue to examine him, clearly having an inner debate on if you should leave the conversation at that. he almost began crying again at how cute you look in such deep thought.
you swallow, “what happened, if i may ask? ur— i mean, you don’t have to tell me obviously, but if you—“
“it’s okay,” he assures with a small smile. “it’s kinda stupid, anyway. just.. all- all my friends n’ stuff.. they forgot my birthday.” your eyes widen, heart breaking into pieces at his painful tone. “i mean, i don’t even care, seriously. i don’t know why i’m crying because it’s really not a big deal.”
it seems you could easily tell he was trying to convince himself more than you.
it’s silent for a beat, nothing but sunghoon’s faint sniffling surrounding the bus until you hesitantly reach over, placing your hand on top of his cold, shaky one. your fingers rub his knuckles, gently calming his distress with comforting glances.
sunghoon didn’t realise how touch starved he was; throat getting clogged as he bites his lip to prevent letting out another pitiful sob, watching the way your touches feather him as if he were a fragile vase.
suddenly, you speak up again rather confidently. “can i give you my number?”
he chokes, looking back up with widened eyes. “w-what?”
“so we can make a plan for tomorrow,” you explain. “for your birthday.”
you, a complete stranger that had just met him on probably one of the worst days of his life, wanted to celebrate his birthday with him? tomorrow?
before he can stop to think, he’s already pulled his phone out, dropping it into your grasp mindlessly as you begin making a new contact. sunghoon peers closely as you type in your name with a bus and crying emoji next to it, letting out a chuckle of disbelief.
at the sound of laughter you look up, grinning proudly once you finally see his fanged smile. “you’re going to have the best birthday ever tomorrow…?” you look at him in question.
“sunghoon.”
“well sunghoon, i’m a master at baking cakes, specifically birthday cakes with chocolate fudge,” you declare, wiggling your eyebrows playfully.
sunghoon doesn’t even like chocolate.
but at that moment he decides it’ll be his new favourite flavour in the world.
as he opens his mouth to reply and show his gratitude, the bus driver boisterously announces the next stop.
“shit,” you mutter, frantically standing up from your seat. “i’m so sorry, i wish i could’ve stayed with you longer, but this is my stop.” your face reflected genuine affliction; not wanting the poor boy to be alone just as he was for the rest of his special day.
sunghoon shakes his head, “no, no it’s fine. you- you already made me feel way better.”
your face brightens a bit, nodding as you achingly wave goodbye. “see you tomorrow.” you turn away, walking right to the front of the bus, tote bag hanging on your shoulder and wooly green scarf still tightly around your neck.
it felt like a last goodbye, like everything was in slow motion watching you leave him, even though he’d be seeing you tomorrow.
but right before you descend down the stairs, you gasp, turning around and making the other passengers frown in annoyance as you block their way.
“hey sunghoon!” you shout across the bus without a care in the world.
the boy in question gawks as you stare him down, eyes shimmering and a fond smile rushing to your chapped lips. “happy birthday!”
sunghoon’s eyes get watery again, but he hates it a bit less this time.
if you enjoyed, reblogs and comments are always appreciated!
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© delcakoo on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not rewrite, cross-post, translate, copy, etc.
perm taglist: @duolingofanaccount @strawberry-sunset-skies @scented-morker @koshinene @boowoowho @sultrybaby @yunjinlvrr @lov3niki @yujiecho @monstaxdirtywonk @dekusgirl @l1lac-dreamer @kodzukii @yjjungwon @miou45 @rosie-is-everywhere
2K notes · View notes
444rockstargf · 24 days
Note
hii again😈
soooo i had another charlie ask (sorry, I’ve been a bit obsessed recently…)! i was wondering if you could write a popular reader x charlie story where they are hooking up in secret (like in a janitors closet in the school or something because she doesn’t want anyone to know💀). make it as smutty or fluffy as you want! THANK YOU FOR YOUR TIME!!
xoxo
thank you for the request!!
"the sweetest girl in town." | charlie walker
meet me in the pale moonlight. - lana del rey
✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn@si1nful-symph0ny @mayathepsychic1999 @@romanroyapoligist @livingdead-materialgirl @auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @vanlisbon @lankysimp @livingdead-reilly @yungbloodsuxca @kashmirclam @icarus-star @imoonkiss @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526 @greenxgloss
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popular!female!reader x geeky!charlie
word count: 1.4k
contents: blowjob, public sex, charlie domming for a little bit
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as students bustled through the halls to get to their next classes, you elegantly made your way to the lonely little door in the middle of the wall. you grabbed the handle, ring-decorated fingers opening the door. you walked into the tight room, stepping over a mildewy mop as you shut the door behind you.
your eyes met the infatuated gaze of the geek shyly standing in the corner, a smile spreading across his face. “i… i thought you weren’t coming…” you smiled, walking up to him and making him back into the wall as nervousness coursed through his veins. “oh please. you think i’d miss the opportunity to see my favourite guy in the world?” you patted his cheek and he leaned into your touch, blushing profusely.
you knew you had a pattern of overstepping when it came to him, but charlie walker was a sucker for affection, so you decided to give the poor boy what he wanted. you reeled back a little, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. “sorry i couldn’t catch you before first period. i just couldn’t get away from my friends.” you exaggerated the word ‘friends’ a little, like it couldn’t be further from the truth.
his smile widened even more. “don’t worry about it.” he hesitated as he spoke again. “you looked real good this morning… almost wanted to scoop you up and have you all to myself…” you felt your gaze get slightly icy as he mentioned interacting with you outside closed doors where everyone would surely flip at seeing such an odd couple together. but you shook off the breeze, smiling at him. 
he reached into his bag, pulling out a brown paper bag with a heart-shaped sticky note. “i brought you some cookies to celebrate one month of us… you know.” you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. only charlie would celebrate something as mundane as one month of hooking up in secret. but you took the bag, flattered by the gesture. “you’re the sweetest guy ever, y’know that?”
he was grinning like an idiot as you bent over to put the goodies in your bag. as you got back up, you caught a glimpse of charlie eyefucking you from your peripherals. at last, the chatter in the hallways came to a complete stop. you approached him again, close enough that you could feel his breath on your cheek. “we’d better get started if you plan on making it to your next class.” he was already dazed by your ethereal beauty, but he nodded. “y-yeah, of course.”
luckily for you, he was already bricked. he had been ever since you had walked in, his boner sticking out like a sore thumb. you grinned smugly, bringing your hands to the zipper of your sweater and pulling it down at a teasingly slow pace. then you let it fall to the ground, charlie’s pupils dilating as you put your tits on display for him.
you pinned him to the wall, grabbing the back of his head and locking him in a wet, sloppy kiss. he fed his jagged gasps into your mouth, frantically moving his hands to unbuckle his belt. as it clanged to the floor, his erect cock sprung out like a jack-in-the-box. it slapped you on the stomach and you jumped, giggling. “well, it looks like someone’s missed me.” you wrapped your pretty hand around his girth, using the flat part of your thumbs to massage his throbbing tip. he hissed, tossing his head back as a shiver ran down his spine. you went down on your knees, looking up at him with those eyes that made him run wild. you loved how much power you had over him. he’d run into a burning building just to get you your favourite mascara. he would even kill for you if you asked him to.
you played around with his cock, taking in the 7-inches of flesh that was currently begging to feel your insides. charlie’s heart raced in his chest as he watched you have fun with his manhood. he wanted this moment to last forever but also wanted to skip to the good part. but he knew to just let you be at a time like this.
finally, you brought your lips to his tip, peppering tiny kisses all over it. he squirmed, fists clenching at his sides as sweat began to bead at the back of his neck. you kissed him all the way down and came back up again, time feeling like an eternity for him until he finally snapped. “oh, for fuck’s sake.” he grabbed the back of your head, forcing your jaw open and shoving his cock into your throat all at once.
you gagged, tears immediately filling your eyes as he hit deep into your throat, your tongue pressed against his underside. he wrapped a handful of your hair around his fist, losing himself in the feeling of extreme pleasure as he began to fuck your face. he wasn’t being gentle or careful with you. he was surrendering to his desires, letting them possess him and take over.
he leaned back against the wall, his hips backing into your gaping mouth as he ran a hand through his hair. his knees buckled from the feeling of your uvula fluttering against his tip, his balls creating a sticky mess on your chin as he pulled your head up and down his shaft. 
he bit his lip hard, drawing a thin line of blood as his chest heaved. he had never been consumed by such a primal feeling before. it felt like pure ecstasy and he never wanted to stop. his eyes were glued to you, watching as your tits bounced from the rapid movement of your head. he wanted to paint all over your plump breasts, turning them into his own pieces of art that would forever be treasured in the chamber of his mind.
you were too stunned to even react. charlie had never been the type to take charge. you’d learned to enjoy making him squirm until he turned blue in the face. you’d gotten so used to the “yes, ma’am” and “whatever you want” that you’d forgotten that he was actually a man. as much as you wanted to fight and protest and perhaps bite off his dick to teach him a lesson, you let him have his fun, tears flowing cheeks as your throat began to bruise.
you began to fondle his balls in your shaky grip, making his eyes roll to the back of his head. charlie rolled his hips into your mouth, lips parted as desperate moans slipped from them. “o-oh… oh god…” his cock throbbed and twitched in your esophagus, signalling an orgasm that was nearing rapidly.
a devious idea popped into your mind. you pressed your tongue against him, pushing his cock to the roof of your mouth and swallowing to create a strong suction. a technique that you knew would come in handy one day. charlie whimpered out loud, nails digging into the back of your head as he eagerly whipped his cock out of your mouth and gave himself a few quick strokes, ejaculating all over your chest.
you gasped as the white-hot liquid hit your chest, a coughing fit hitting you as you finally took in a breath of air again. it was like all his deepest fantasies coming true. you were a piece of art, his muse. his cum highlighted your body in ways that he thought could only be true in his wildest dreams.
his cock leaked with a few more drops of cum as you got back to your feet, wiping the drool from your lips as you glared at him. “nice going, you fucking prick.” you muttered, making his heart shatter. he scratched the back of his head. “s-sorry… got a little carried away there, didn’t i?” you laugh a little, picking up your sweater and pulling it on. “you think?” there was cum dripping down your torso, but it could be worse.
you pulled out your mirror from your pocket, looking at the dark tear streaks that ran down your face. “you completely messed up my makeup.” he helped you pick up your bag. “how about i take you out later? i heard they just restoked your favourite brand.” you couldn’t help but melt at his kindness. you nodded, the taste of his cum still polluting your mouth.
with a sigh, you pulled the cookie he gave you out of your bag, taking a large bite and nodding with approval as the bell shrilled, your cue to leave. you turned to the door, shooting him one last glance. “see you around, loser.” you walked out of the closet, hoping that no one would notice the cum on your shirt and the stupid smile on your face.
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author's note: i want cookies :((
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mirnilop · 8 months
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𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 ˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ wally darling
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⚠ tags: sfw, mob au, yandere!wally, gn!singer!reader, power imbalance, discussions of violence
♡ synopsis: you’d be surprised how many fans you accrue as a small-time lounge singer. while this is usually a good thing, one of yours happens to rule half the city, so he isn’t exactly receptive to the word “no”.
♡ word count: 5,310
⛧ミ‧*・゚ the following content may be triggering to some. please proceed with caution! ・゚*‧ミ⛧
a/n: hello!! ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎ goshh, my very first post on this acc!! i haven’t posted fanfic in a hot minute but i’m suuuper excited to get back into it!! 💞 i have sooo many wips for this fandom, it was difficult to choose which one to finish first! credit to @/clownsuu for creating the au and for the lovely art!! i tweaked the concept a wee bit so that it takes place in a roger rabbit-esque world where puppets and humans live together unharmoniously (with a jessica rabbit inspired reader ofc >v>). it was a lot of fun trying to marry wally's canon personality with a Scary Mob Boss (*´ 艸`) i can't wait to post more!! what are y'all's favourite aus? let me know!! ・*・:≡( ε:)
There’s a rose on your vanity.
The sight of it snuffs out your high spirits, irritation igniting in its place– and it was such a good day, too! You and the girls were perfectly in sync for your entire performance, bolstered by the unusually affable audience; you even rewarded them with a sneak peek of new material, which made them go wild!
Dreams of stomping it beneath your heel stew in your head as you drop it in the faience vase at the rim of the mirror, where a crinkled, beige-tipped rose droops against the rim. Why not break the vase too? An idea that’s crossed your mind too many times, and while it gets harder to resist with each flower, you endure it. They’re presents, after all, and you doubt your admirer would take kindly to the news that you’ve trashed them. You’re certain one of his minions would obtain the evidence, if not witness you do it; you can’t pinpoint the extent to which they survey you, but the crawling sensation of eyes on your back crops up often, and obviously they have no problem barging into your dressing room to play delivery service.
Sighing, you comb through your rolling rack to pick a suitable outfit to change into. Most of the articles hanging are also gifts, but you’ve made sure to keep some of your own hard-earned clothes here out of sheer spite. A burgundy cashmere number has just slipped into your grasp when the door bursts open.
“How’s that for a show?! And what a great crowd, a whole buncha dolls! Or– well, puppets– and humans! Hahaha!”
Lottie skips in with her usual energy, the bell on her collar jingling alongside the clack of her Mary Janes. You hate that their manager mandates the bells as a part of their costumes, as if puppets being treated like second-class citizens wasn’t enough. “You wanna make money or not? It’s part of the appeal! You know, Mary Had A Little Lamb and all that!” is what he told you after one of your countless tirades regarding his treatment of them, but the sleazy smirk wrapped around his cheap cigarette allowed you to read between the lines. As much as you despise that man, it’s not your business to judge the trio for staying contracted with him. Mottie’s recalled to you how difficult it was to hire a manager at all, and you suppose you have to (begrudgingly) thank him for bringing them into your life, since he’s the one who bagged them the backup singer gig.
A swell of color in your peripheral lets you know that she’s come near, but you don’t bother diverting attention from your search. This is such a common occurrence between you two that pleasantries are no longer required.
“And they were mighty generous with the tips! So me and the gals was thinking we should go somewhere to… celebrate…”
Hearing her trail off, you turn to find her staring at the new rose, her once-perky ears fallen limp. You click your tongue, remorse prickling your heart, though you’ve done nothing wrong.
“I’ll be alright, Lottie. Here,” You grab a wad of bills from your personal tip jar and fold them into her hand. “You take your sisters somewhere nice, my treat. As an apology for having to skip out tonight.”
When she doesn’t move from her spot, merely pouting at you with big, glistening eyes full of concern, you swaddle her in a hug. Fleecy strands of shell pink hair tickle your nose as she nestles her snout into your shoulder, squeezing you like a lifebuoy. Having her in your arms is a vital reminder as to why you continue to put up with everything. Lottie, Dottie and Mottie are your beloved friends– your family when you had none– and you are willing to do whatever is necessary to build a life with them.
“Are ya sure?”
“Positive. And if that bug gives you even a whiff of trouble, you come get me right away, got it?”
She laughs, the sound a balm to the ache of your worries. “He never gives us any trouble– n’fact, I haven’t heard ‘im say a single word!”
“Good. At least one of them has manners. Now go have fun!”
After a few more hugs and a promise to relay your apology to her sisters, she trots towards the entrance. Halfway through it, she pauses.
“Promise ya’ll play nice?”
An involuntary grimace twists your face, which you smooth immediately.
“I was planning on it,” you concede, earning an exhale of relief from Lottie.
“Thanks. Honestly, I’m kinda worried...” She leans against the doorframe, gaze trained on the checkered floor. “I see more and more of that Napoleon-wannabe’s goons lately. Do ya think he’s gettin’ antsy? It’s been real quiet since that incident with Dorelaine.”
Ah, the incident. It happened a handful of months ago; he refused to go into specifics, but what you’ve gathered from his gnomic recount and various news stories is that their rival organization– led by Ronald Dorelaine, a human man– planted explosives somewhere important, racking up thousands in damages and dismembering several puppets, left to be mended with those horrific stitches. You didn’t receive another rose until several weeks afterwards.
“I can’t be sure,” you admit. “He doesn’t tell me much about the goings-on of the ‘family’, not that I care to know. But I noticed he’s been more wound up lately… maybe they’re going to retaliate?”
A visible shudder travels through Lottie, and she tosses her head as if to ward off the gravity of your predicament. It was easier to ignore the implications when there wasn’t an active turf battle.
“You’re right, we should stay as far as we can from that nasty business. Wear the red, then. To butter ‘im up a little.” She offers you a conflicted half-smile, most likely holding herself back from proposing a makeover, before sidling out the door.
Glowering, you follow the advice, shucking your tight, shimmering stage outfit for the cozy cashmere you were eyeing before. Like I need to be reminded of his favorite color. I’ve practically lived in red since I met him. It inexplicably fits like a glove, as do all of the clothes you've been bestowed; for the sake of your sanity, you prevent yourself from delving too far into that subject.
As you fix the little bits of your appearance that got mussed up during your performance, you can’t help but contemplate hiding in your room until morning, even though you know it wouldn’t work– and you’d have to pay for a broken front door. Once every speck of lint has been removed and your ensemble is flawless, you steel your resolve with a hard look in the mirror. If things go south, at least you’ll make a gorgeous open casket.
You step into your shoes and out of the dressing room, swiping your bag and a matching hat from the plethora that dangle on knobs affixed to the wall along the way. The haze that eternally permeates the lounge envelops you as you walk, no longer springing tears to your eyes like it did so long ago, when you were a starry-eyed fledgling. Upon entering the foyer, you call out to the owner, Gene, who’s counting the register behind the bar.
“Hey, I’m heading out!”
“Geez, you’re in a hurry! Got a hot date or what?”
“Something like that,” you breathe, your nerves relighting tenfold now that you’re so close to the outside.
“Ahh, I getcha.” His amusement is clear, construing an innuendo within your words that is absolutely not there, but you’d rather die than clarify. “You did a great job today, you deserve it!”
Somehow, your admirer has managed to limbo directly under Gene’s nose; thus far he’s made no indication that he’s aware he has a very important patron. For a moment, you observe him, and see how he absentmindedly rubs the pocket of his button-up– where a polaroid of his two children is safely tucked away– and you decide that it’s probably for the best.
“Thanks, Gene. Have a good one.”
“You too!”
His reply barely reaches you as you cross the threshold from the comfort of your work into the cold, pensive night. A luckier soul may have suffered a fright when greeted with the colossal figure standing below the street light, carved with shadow, but it’s a familiar sight to you now. An inconspicuous black car is parked behind him.
“Hi Howdy.”
“Evening, Mx.” He bows slightly, whisking open the sleek passenger door which you reluctantly slide inside.
“I wish you’d stop calling me that. I do have a name.” It’s true. Being addressed formally by such an important figure imbues you a with a sick feeling, like he’s won, and you’ve already been initiated into this fucked up institution.
Though he waits for you to finish speaking before shutting you in, he doesn’t grace you with a response; not that you were expecting one. In all the times he’s escorted you to these duress-dates, as you’ve taken to calling them, he’s remained stoic to a mechanical degree, acknowledging your presence and nothing more. Thrashing, crying, screaming– you’ve tried everything to escape, and have never elicited a reaction more severe than that of a tired parent handling a tantrum. If you resist, he simply manhandles you. It’s hardly a fair match, with him having 4 arms and several feet of height on you, so you opt to reserve your energy for dealing with his headache of a boss.
When he hauls his many limbs onto the driver’s seat, the car lurches, too small to accommodate a puppet of his stature; he has to hunch forward to see the windshield, antennae pushed flat. You lean back and vacantly turn towards the window, wondering if cars big enough for someone like him to drive comfortably even exist while the engine rumbles to life.
The umbrous cityscape passes you by, inklings of humans and puppets flashing in and out of the darkness like ghosts. Thick boughs of red and green tinsel are strung across a few lamp posts, but by the end of the season they’ll all be covered. Dottie’s already triple checked that you and her sisters have one day of the annual Christmas market off, even though you strike the same deal with Gene every year; the four of you get Saturday, then he gets Sunday to take his family. It’s one of your favorite times of the year, if only because you get to experience the aura of wonder that enlivens Lottie when the first snow falls, Mottie’s timid wheedling to attend The Nutcracker, and Dottie’s alphabetically-organized checklist of fun winter activities.
Those cheerful thoughts are wiped away as Howdy turns into a private garage attached to a sleek, angular skyscraper. He parks in the spot nearest to the entrance, the first in a row of spaces labeled with metal “Reserved for Staff” signs, and circles the car to let you out. The sensation of him gingerly lifting you comes with no alarm; he always assists you up the concrete stairs leading to the elevator, as if you’re so physically inept you can’t handle 3 tiny steps. You assume his needless precaution is for the same reason he hasn’t beaten you yet despite defying him so often: boss’s orders.
With a reedy knell, the elevator glides open, and Howdy signals for you to go ahead. Once you’re both inside, he inserts a key and presses the button for the uppermost level. Expecting a noiseless ride, you tune into the low muzak emitting from the speakers, which makes you miss the first time he calls you.
“Mx.”
Startled, you swivel towards him. His steadfast profile is unreadable.
“Boss doesn’t know you’ve opposed him so vehemently in the past. Please keep that in mind tonight.”
The entrance broaches before you can interrogate him as to what the hell he means, granting you entry to a luxury penthouse laved in gold, ivory, and– of course– red. A glimmering chandelier suspends from the ornamental ceiling, bathing the antique furniture in an amber glow. If you hadn’t just ridden up the elevator, you would have assumed such a lavish drawing room belonged to an old mansion.
It’s something straight out of a romance novel, except instead of a chiseled, broody Italian, it’s a short puppet sitting at the marble-topped dining table. He lounges at the head in a slate blue silk suit with its jacket buttoned to the top; an honor seemingly reserved solely for you, because it’s the only way you’ve seen him wear it, despite street tales describing the way it billows from his shoulders as he stalks the town. Revealed by its plunged neckline is the collar of a white dress shirt embossed with rainbow pinstripes, and a red ascot neatly tied and pulled askant around his throat.
Wally Darling, in the felt: kingpin of The Neighborhood, and resident thorn in your side.
When you arrive, he rises to meet you, dismissing Howdy with a pointed glance; you’ve learned that the relationship between a crime lord and his loyal bandog transcends language. You watch him as he leaves through a pair of swinging doors to the left, his cryptic advice-slash-warning heavy on your mind.
And so, you find yourself alone with the most dangerous man in the city– puppet or otherwise.
“Good evening, dearest. I hope my gift found you well.”
The concept of personal space might as well be Greek to Wally, since he hasn’t once respected it from the day you had the misfortune of making his acquaintance. He crowds so close that you have to crane your neck to see his face, the heat emanating from him eliciting shivers in your chill-soaked body.
“Yes, thank you. It was quite a lively night,” you chirp, wielding a civil smile.
Although the contours of his wispy, coiffed curls only reach your ribs, he extends his arm to you, which you take with such a featherlight hold that you barely brush his sleeve. Rather than leading you to the dining table like you expected, you’re guided towards a small lounge area to the side, the crackling croon of Billie Holiday wafting over from a refurbished stereo console in the corner. Oh, great. He’s feeling sentimental.
“Would you indulge me with a dance before dinner?”
Don't have much of a choice, do I?
“I’d love to.”
Dancing with Wally is funny, in an ironic sort of way; it certainly caught you off guard the first time he asked. When you envision dancing with a powerful, deadly mobster, you think of being swept away, wrapped snugly by strong arms and a dastardly smirk, or perhaps something more courtly, like a waltz steered by a polite hand on your waist. Turns out both versions are incorrect.
Muscle memory ushers your arms open, and Wally falls into the space in between them– literally. Slack against you, his full weight is heftier than his height would imply, but not physically uncomfortable– emotionally and morally, however, are another story. An air of pure peace washes over him as his cheek nuzzles the underside of your chest, arms limp at his sides; you swear you even hear a little trill. Your face burns, but you say nothing as you begin to sway faintly to the beat, tracing a loop with your feet as you traipse along. Wally follows easily, tethered by the reluctant cage of your embrace.
“Do you remember the night we met?”
The query is felt more than heard, his gentle monotone muffled by the downy fabric of your garb. You huff softly to yourself, rustling a few gel-slick strands atop his pompadour.
“How could I forget?”
The day the infamous Mr. Darling appeared in your club, his two largest henchmen in tow, is burned into your brain like a regrettable tattoo; Gene was off, so you were covering entertainment for the night while the sisters managed the bar and floor. As you were singing the very song playing now, you detected a curious hush that had overtaken the throng of guests, and strained to cut through the stage glare and cigarette fog to locate the cause. Tracking the audience, who were all regarding the bar with varying amounts of subtlety, you nearly dropped the microphone when you saw the broad blue back of Barnaby B. Beagle, someone you’d only heard of in gossip. He gesticulated as he spoke boisterously to poor Mottie, who was as white as a sheet behind the counter. Situated a slight ways away was Howdy Pillar, who stood as motionless as a statue with both sets of forelimbs fastened behind him.
And then you noticed him. A puppet no more than 4 feet tall, but whose oppressive presence commanded full attention. He paid no mind to the (one-sided) conversation between his colleague and your friend– no, he was staring right at you. Boring into you so acutely that you felt pinned, compelled somehow to continue singing until the final note trickled away.
As if a spell had been broken, you leapt from the platform and scurried to Mottie, who stayed petrified even when you tried to covertly nudge her to the side. How avidly you wished a fissure would open beneath their shoes and swallow them whole; but, armed with years of appeasing difficult and sordid customers, you spoke.
“Evening, fellas. I hope you enjoyed the show.”
Barnaby, who had stopped talking when you rounded the bar, bellowed a laugh.
“Fellas?! Is that any way to greet the boss and I?"
He tilted forward with menacing glee, propped up by furry elbows as his claws scraped the laminate countertop. Each of his fangs were as big as your nose.
"Dontcha know who we are, toots? Or do ya just need a refresher on respect?"
The acrid smoke from his cigar blew directly into your face, making spikes of anger bubble in your belly as you choked back a cough. Just when you felt composed enough to reply, a surprisingly mellow voice chimed in.
"It's alright, Barnaby."
The shock slacking his jaw mirrored yours, although you hid it under a mask of cool indifference. You dared a glance at Mr. Darling, but the pressure of his peer chased your gaze back to Barnaby, who grumbled as he straightened back up. It was difficult to stay trained on his good eye, but you soldiered on. Fear was not something you could afford to show, and you knew you'd crumble if you peeked at the fabled gaping socket that he stapled open himself.
"I don't suppose you're Gene Clifton, aged 54, father of two, owner of this joint?" He joked, recovered from the flub.
"No, sir, but my banker would sure be happy if I was. Can I take down a message?"
"A message! I love this bird!" Snickering cruelly, he waved a flippant paw. "Y'should try that material on stage sometime, might bring ya more customers than the singing bit."
You sucked a sharp inhale up your nose. Serenity now.
"See, here's the problem. This is family territory, and in return for our protection, we charge a teensy fee. Now, we ain't unreasonable– we've sent ole Gene a few letters. And what’s our thanks for such humble hospitality? Zilch."
Oh dear. Gene doesn't bother investigating any mail the lounge receives before tossing it because it’s typically adverts. He definitely would've noted The Neighborhood's seal if he did. Regardless, the frank abuse of power only fanned your annoyance, obscuring your better judgment.
"What protection? I don't recall seeing any of your members patrolling outside. Besides, we didn’t ask for protection."
Mottie snapped towards you, looking as though she might faint. The corner of Barnaby's mouth twitched skyward, like he was hoping you'd argue, but his boss beat him to the punch.
"We can reach an agreement, I’m sure. I'd hate to see a family establishment go under, especially when they have such lovely entertainment."
Apparently Wally was so smitten that he'd accept your company in lieu of money, and so the agreement (if you can even call it that, since you were coerced) was this– whenever a rose was delivered to you, you'd attend a rendezvous with him. When you returned to your dressing room later that evening, you discovered the first gift of several: your vase.
“I knew because of your eyes.”
The floral wallpaper in front of you shifts back into focus, Wally’s voice shaking you from your recollection.
“Pardon?”
“That night, you drew me in; I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, least of all a petty protection tax. And I knew I had to have you when I met your eyes.” He sounds dreamy, reminiscing as you were before, though his framing of events is worlds apart from your own; he recalls a destined encounter with his future partner, whereas you mark it the day your wings were clipped for good.
“They shone like stars, even through the smog.”
It’s only after he’s finished that you realize you’ve stopped moving, wrapped in an intimate hug like true lovers. A strange mix of pride and disgust floods you at the compliment, stomach flip-flopping rapidly.
He untangles from you, receding so that only your hands remain connected. The newfound distance eases some of your tension, but to your horror, you find yourself mourning the loss of the husky scent of his cologne. Loath as you are to admit it, the bastard smells amazing: a dark, leathery swirl of apples and saffron that you’d buy out if someone turned it into a candle.
“Let’s not delay any longer. You must be starving.”
True to his gentlemanly veneer, he seats you at the table before settling himself. You don’t see him call, but a server emerges immediately from the doors through which Howdy left with a tray of appetizers.
There are two graces you award Wally Darling: his excellent taste in cologne, and his staff’s Michelen-quality fare. Though they adopt the four courses typical of fine dining, the dishes are more grounded, toeing the border between grandma and Gordon Ramsay perfectly. Truthfully, you’re not even sure what to categorize it as; virtually everything is transfigured into a jello, pie, or salad, harkening back to the post-war cookbooks you used to gawk at as a child in your late mother’s library. The yellowed pictures in those books appeared extremely unappetizing, but somehow The Neighborhood makes it work.
It could be because of an illusive member named Poppy, one of the 7 who make up Wally’s illustrious inner circle. She’s scarcely seen due to her fretful and skittish nature, but Wally lauds her cooking and baking skills, regaling you in the past with plenty of kitchen mishaps that occurred when she tried to decompress by experimenting with recipes and was interrupted by their more excitable comrades. If you remember correctly, he once told you that most of the menus in rotation were created by her.
The nature of these duress-dates is wholly dependent on Wally’s mood– if he’s happy, then he’ll gladly chat your ear off about frivolous happenings in his and his friends’ private lives, though he takes care to be shrewd with any details that dive too deep into the murky underbelly lying just below. If he’s unhappy, then they can be utterly unbearable; his mere existence puts you on edge, so it’s exponentially worse when he’s out of sorts, tone curt and glare fierce.
Thankfully, he’s amiable tonight. The first 3 courses march on without incident, and painless conversation flows between the two of you, even if he does most of the talking– you’re not exactly eager to share more than you have to. It’s when the server presents dessert that things go awry.
“Say, how are those triplets you work with doing?” Wally says, spooning at the Bananas Foster. “I haven’t had the pleasure of catching a performance since our mishap a while back. So much paperwork, so little time, you know how it is.”
The mention of both your friends and the aforementioned Dorelaine incident have you bristling reflexively, but you do your best to tamp it down.
“They’re well, overall. Sometimes it’s difficult for them– their manager’s a real piece of work, and we get all types at the lounge.”
“I see…”
He lets out a long “hmmmm”, like he’s reflecting on this information.
“My family has also come upon hard times. It can be… trying, sometimes, to guide my children. Especially now, when we are under unjust attack.” He confesses, wistfully resting his chin on a thread-scarred palm. “Every family requires a head, but what is a head without a neck?”
Unjust my ass. Still, the weird metaphor confuses you.
“A neck?”
At that, his catlike grin only grows. What is he talking about?
“Yes, a neck; that is, someone who supports the head. I care for my family, so it’s only right I am cared for in return, wouldn’t you say?”
Though the phrasing is puzzling, you’re fairly confident you can infer what he’s purposefully dangling in front of you, and oh, it makes your stomach plummet. Sweat breaks out underneath your suddenly-sweltering outfit; it's as if you've been tied to a railroad and have managed to divert the train through pure will for a year, but now it's steamrolling square for you. The anxiety of impending doom renders you mute, unable to piece together a coherent thought.
Taking your silence in stride, Wally leans forward, intense as he grasps your hand in both of his own. The yellow fuzz does nothing to help how clammy you feel.
“What I mean to say is, I think that it’s time to settle down."
No.
“Wh– what? Settle down how?”
“To get married, silly.”
You’re unable to help the gasp that escapes you. No, no, no!
“Get married? You mean– to me?!”
“Of course. I’ve been courting you all this time, haven’t I?”
You sputter, and he rubs your hand as if to soothe you. His many gold rings gleam under the chandelier, teasing a glimpse of your fate.
“I know in the beginning you weren’t receptive to the idea of this life, but I've shown you that I can provide for you better than anyone else.”
Your expression must betray your surprise, because he chuckles– a slow, stilted sound that sends gooseflesh blooming across your skin.
“You thought I didn’t know? Howdy may not have reported it– which I’ll rectify in due time– but I have eyes everywhere, dear. You’re quite the talented actor, though.”
That trademark simper melts into something beguiling; he cradles you as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.
“I love you, and I will take care of you, as I ask you to do for me. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”
An inviting facade of genuine affection, so ardent that you almost want to believe it. Wouldn’t that be the easiest path to take? To surrender to the hand that feeds, because where it strangles others, it caresses you sweetly? It’s more tempting than you’d ever divulge, because underneath the armor of aplomb you've so carefully forged, you're exhausted. This burden has been yours alone to bear– and what a bear it is, because if you mess up, the people you love could be injured, or worse. So much worse.
Perhaps sensing an opening, Wally continues.
“Be reasonable. The family welcomes you with open arms! Haven’t you missed having a family?"
The words stab you right through the heart, and your waning resolve springs back tenfold by the fury that ruddies your vision. When you rip your hand away, he makes no move to stop you.
"My friends are my family. I don’t want anyone else, especially not murderers!” You snarl. “You kill people– and torture and maim them! How can you expect me to accept this?!"
"All in a day's work when cleaning up the city, unfortunately," Wally hums. "I wish we didn't have to resort to such things, but you must understand. As it is, puppets are treated as less than, and hardship runs rampant for both humans and puppets alike. You’ve experienced these firsthand.” With the elegance of a master conman, he touches his chest in mock respire. “All we wish to do is provide a safe haven for those in need– somewhere to rest your bones, enjoy a hot meal, and where everyone accepts you as their own. A home.”
You abruptly stand up, feeling like you’re wound so taut that you could erupt at any moment. The mahogany chair behind you tips over from the force, striking the floor with a leaden thud, though the sound is deafened by the blood rushing in your ears.
“Bullshit! You don’t have to start a gang to combat discrimination or help suffering people! Maybe that spiel works on the poor saps you trick into doing your dirty work, but it won’t work on me. The answer is no.”
All is still for a moment as you struggle to calm your heaving breaths, trembling and locked in a quiet stalemate with Wally, who’s as relaxed as ever. Your attention flits from his right eye to where the left would be, if not for the lesion carved from a notch above his eyelid to an inch below, giving the illusion that what lies beneath is impaled.
Oh shit.
The magnitude of what just transpired comes crashing down as your adrenaline flushes out. After playing it safe for months– stomaching unwanted exorbitant gifts, being tailed by his employees, and rousted to innumerous “dates”– you just rejected Wally Darling in the most aggressive way possible. So you do the only thing that might garner you a chance to make it out of this alive: run.
You’re halfway across the room when 4 thick arms suddenly wrangle and force you to halt, a scream ripping itself from your throat out of fear. Can this motherfucker teleport now?! How the hell did he get here so fast?? Thrashing, you throw your head back to search Howdy’s face, desperate for an ounce of the sympathy he’d offered in the elevator, but it is in vain; his stony visage is impenetrable, as though it had never wavered.
“How about you sleep on it, hm? Think about all of your options. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to those little lambs when their adorable shepherd isn’t around to protect them.”
Delicate fingers cup your jaw, making you freeze as Wally stretches up to plant a faux-kiss on your cheek, complete with a small “mwah!”. You scowl daggers at him as he collects your hat from where it flew to the floor, dusts it off, and lovingly places it back on your head before giving you a few pats.
“Aw, don’t be that way, darling. I truly meant what I said; you have beautiful eyes. I can hardly wait to try one on.”
With a snap, you’re hauled over Howdy’s back and spirited out of the room, presumably to be transported to wherever you’ll be staying. Hopefully not Wally’s quarters.
It’s all too much; you feel like you’re trapped in a nightmare. How else did you expect this to end? You’re not sure. With all of the awful things he’s done, forcing you into marriage is not beyond him. You just thought you’d have more time: to plan, to save up enough money to take the girls and race to the hills.
Tears gather on your waterlines, and the minute your mouth wobbles, they spill ceaselessly. Full-bodied sobs wrack you, the pain of Howdy’s shoulder jutting into your midsection compounding the profound ache of sorrow. All this time, you’ve been trying to fight, but there was no fight to be had; it ended the moment his eyes found yours across the lounge that day.
413 notes · View notes
powerfultenderness · 10 months
Note
Ok but what if reader and konig were out for a coffee or something, and they run into Adrian! I don’t know if you meant for their breakup to be on good terms or not, that’s up to you, but I just want to see konig get all jelly.
Sorry this one is a little late! I couldn't decide which way to go. But I still love Adrian so I couldn't have him hurt lol! 😅
Sooo, I have König doing something else! Which means I'm dropping a (Mature 18+ rating on this!)
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“Ah! Hide me!” you gasped and jumped behind König. 
He stiffened, left hand flying behind him for a second as if to anchor you to him, but that was hardly needed as you were clinging to his back. “What! What is it?”  
“It’s him!” You whispered sharply into König’s back. “My ex!” 
“Where? Who?” 
You didn’t even notice him clenching his fists and holding them down at his sides. “By that bench. Blue suit. Five-eleven.” König nodded, spotting the man.
“Cute dorky glasses.” 
The guy he was looking at was wearing silver rimmed aviator glasses. Was that cute?
“Light green eyes.” 
He nodded again, green eyes, yea he was definitely looking at the right guy.
“Pretty curly brown hair,” you continued, gripping König’s shirt even harder. “Ugh, absolutely stunning smile with dimples and dazzling teeth,” you sighed and sagged against König a bit, “and-”
“Ok.” König interrupted you, he already spotted the guy, he didn’t need you to keep talking about him. “Who is he with?” 
“He’s with someone?” You gasped again and popped out from behind him to look. 
“Oh!” You barely managed to squeak out before your lips started to tremble. “She’s so pretty.” Your voice fell as you tried not to cry.
The woman was just Adrian’s type. Tall, skinny blonde with killer legs, could very well be a Taylor Swift (his biggest celebrity crush) clone. You really shouldn’t be surprised that he moved on with such a beautiful woman.
König looked away from your ex to you, clinging to him with one hand, and clutching at the fabric above your heart with the other. Your eyes were shining with tears that you were desperately trying to hold back and you were biting your bottom lip so hard that soon you’d draw blood. 
“You are prettier.” 
You didn’t hear him. And even if you had, you probably wouldn’t have understood the German. You’d tilt your head all cutely and smile at him as you asked him to translate. But you didn’t hear him, and you didn’t ask him to translate. König growled to himself, he didn’t like the hold this guy seemed to have on you. 
It wasn’t until he dropped a heavy hand on your shoulder did you snap out of whatever trance Adrain had over you. “Let’s go.” He needed to get your mind off of your ex (and preferably on him!).
“O-oh!” You looked up at him, eyes still brimming with unshed tears, “yea. Totally. My bad!” And the fake smile you gave him would fool no one. 
As luck would have it, just as you turned around, someone shouted your name. You froze and König growled again. He turned to face Adrian first, startling the smaller man enough to get a quiet, “whoa!” out of him. 
Even through his peripherals, he saw you quickly smoothing out your clothes and hair before you turned around too, this time your fake smile was much more convincing.
“Adrian! Hey,” you greeted the man, though remained firmly planted next to König. 
Adrian smiled that dangerous smile. The one that made you fall for him in the first place and still had you blushing. He tried to step further into your space, arms spread for a hug, but König caught him by the shoulder and pushed him back. 
“Hey, man! Not cool!” Adrian pointed a finger at König once he caught himself.
“Do not touch her.” 
König’s cold tone and death glare had both you and Adrian glancing at him with concern. It isn’t until you reach out a tentative hand and touch his arm does he stop glaring at Adrian. “It’s fine, König.” 
After taking a moment to glance between you and König, Adrian stepped back, he even braved tapping your free hand as he motioned for you to follow.
König growled, fists clenching and he nearly stormed after the other man. He told him not to touch you!  
“It’s fine.” You repeated and gave his arm another pat for reassurance. 
He resisted the urge to wrap his arms around and simply pull you away from your ex. But you followed him instead…
“What’s up?” You tried to sound unaffected. 
Adrian looked behind you and frowned. “You really with that guy?” 
“Yea. Why?” 
You hadn’t moved so far that König could no longer hear, and when you so casually admitted that you were with him, well, he was somehow both smiling and glaring under his mask.
“I just wanted to say hi, but,” he eyed König again, “do you still have my number?”
Your brows furrowed as you shook your head. “No. I deleted it when we broke up. Why?” 
Adrian reached inside his jacket and pulled out a business card and a pen. He scribbled his personal number on the back and handed it to you. “Here, take it. Just in case.” 
You blinked, a pang of familiarity hitting you as you read his messy handwriting. “Just in case what? I need a lawyer?” 
“No…” He sighed and nervously scratched the back of his neck. “I’ve just, seen this a few times. After a break up, women will date the first dangerous guy they meet and-” 
“He’s not going to hurt me, Adrian! ” You yelled and threw his card back at him. You had aimed for his face, but the little card hit his chest instead. 
“I’m just worried about you,” he sighed and tried to hand you the card again.
“He’s never even been mean to me, unlike you!” 
“What! I was never mean to you!” 
“You broke my heart!” 
Adrian stopped, he looked so taken aback with his mouth hanging open and eyes nearly as wide as his lenses. 
You sighed as he struggled, and failed, to think of a response. “Goodbye, Adrian.” That actually felt good, as there had been a lack of closure when you broke up. 
“But,” Adrian tried once more to talk to you, but seeing you done with him, König stepped between you and Adrian. 
“Leave.” He growled out and stared him down. 
“Jesus! Ok! Ok!”
He waited for Adrian to turn around and return to his partner before he relented, finding you quickly and dropping his hand to the small of your back. 
You muttered out a quiet thanks and an apology for ruining a nice day, but König shook his head, he wouldn’t mind going home anyways. “Too many people.” 
The next time you spoke up you were in front of your door, fishing your keys out of your purse. You were in the middle of a half hearted thank you to König when you suddenly found yourself pressed up against the door, König’s left arm braced against the door while his right arm was wound around your waist, pulling you tight against him.
“Ah! K-könig! What!” You squealed, heart pounding wildly in your chest as you tried to push back, only for him to tighten his hold on you, pulling you even closer to his hard body. 
You could feel everything. From the muscles in his arms trapping you against him, every breath he took, the flutter of his mask as he pressed his mouth against the side of your face, and the way his dick was hardening against your ass. You gasped, your entire body buzzing with want, need. 
“Do not think of him.” He growled into your ear, earning a whimper from you, your struggling against him not an attempt to get out of his hold, but to feel more of him. 
“Wh-what?” You finally managed to gasp out, one hand clutching at his arm as you tried to calm down. 
He wasn’t having that. Behind the loose front of his mask, his mouth found your neck. His teeth found your neck. You whined, quietly moaning out his name, as his tongue lapped at and soothed the fresh bite mark. “Think only of me.” 
You let out a breathy whine as you could definitely feel the outline of his hardness roughly rutting into you, your front pressed fully against the door at this point. He repeated the action a few times, heavy pants fanning your neck, tongue sliding out over your skin once more. It wasn’t elegant, but desperate and needy. Until he suddenly stilled and gently set you fully back on the ground. 
He turned you around, setting your back against the door, and moved his hand from your waist to cup your face, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Goodnight.” 
You blinked. “What?” No. That one you understood. “What?”
He chuckled, “remember to lock your door.” 
What! You sagged against the door and watched as he walked down the hall to his own flat. How in the world were you supposed to go to sleep after that? 
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More Neighbor König: [Neighbor König masterlist]
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nichuuu · 1 year
Text
Yeowooya
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Tags: Smut, creampie, facial, handjob, teasing, subby joy, doggy, riding, fluff(?) Word count: 6k++
The clacking of your keyboard filled the empty office. Your eyes throbbed in their sockets, begging you for some sort of rest from your computer screen. The minute hand of the clock was slowly approaching the 12 mark on the clock, it would be 1 am soon. Regardless, you were determined to put in those extra hours and finish this damn proposal. With a sip of some extra strong coffee, you let the caffeine take over your senses. You mindlessly typed away, words appearing on the document faster than your mind could process. 
Your teammates had gone out drinking again. Unlike them, you had a sense of responsibility in you, so you were the one who stayed to finish the last leg of the proposal. While your so-called “teammates” were busy celebrating god knows what, you were slaving away in your space, fingers achy and joints sore. 
“Wow… Hard working as ever…” 
You looked up. A familiar face smiled back at you over the cubicle.
“Not now Soo-young,” You huffed, looking back at your screen. From your peripheral vision, you saw the woman pout. 
“Aw… Why so grumpy?” She teased you. You glared at her. 
“I said: Not now,” You repeated yourself. Joy rolled her eyes.
“Fine…” She sighed. Her head disappeared behind the wall of your prison, re-appearing from the entrance to your cubicle. 
“Is it me? Or does this place get messier and messier each time I visit?” She mused.
“Keep your hands off my shit,” You warned her, eyes not leaving the screen.
“I’ll do what I please, thank you.”
You heard her rummaging through some papers on your desk. You wanted to whip around and just let her have it right there, but you were so close to completing your task. Forcing yourself to stay laser focused, you pushed yourself a little more. Your fingers moved faster, the frequency of the clacking increasing. At some point, you felt Soo-young looking over your shoulder, watching silently as words appeared on screen. Then she went back to poke her nose into the papers on your desk. 
“Damn… This paper was dated 2 years ago!” You heard her mutter. “He really needs to sort his shit out…”
More rustling came from behind you. You were on the final stretch now, just a few more sentences left. You could feel your heart beating faster in excitement as you made your way towards the light at the end of the tunnel.
Alas, you typed out the final word. A rather loud yell of victory left your mouth as you saved your work. You crashed back in your chair, feeling more relieved than you’d ever had before. 
“Oh my god… Never again…” You grimaced, massaging your tired eyes. 
“This all seems like a you problem not gonna lie,” Joy chimed in. You opened your eyes. 
“Joy… Please shut the fuck up,” You requested. In response, she dragged your chair out and spun you in a circle. You yelped, quickly planting your feet down in the ground to stop yourself. God forbid those 4 cups of coffee came out of you.
“You’re done with your work! Stop being a grumpy old fart!” Soo-young reminded you. You sighed. 
“Stop nagging. You remind me of my Eomma,” You told her. She scoffed. 
“Maybe you should take better care of yourself. That way I can stop taking care of you like you’re a little kid,” Joy retorted. You wanted to argue against her statement, but she had a fair point.
“Fair enough,” You relented. 
“That’s what I thought bitch boy,” She sneered playfully. You chuckled.
You weren’t sure how to describe your relationship with Soo-young. You started off as complete strangers to each other, strangers that worked 2 desks away and always seemed to go to the same spot for lunch everyday. One fine day, she sat down next to you in the middle of a meeting—she was half an hour late—and introduced herself to you. You spent the long hours of the meeting entertaining yourselves in hushed, clandestine conversations, stopping only when your boss turned back to face the zombie crowd. At the end, you made yourself a new friend and exchanged numbers with her. 
Months passed. You got closer to Soo-young, close enough to call her what all her friends called her.
“They call me Joy,” She told you one morning over some doughnuts and coffee. 
“Joy?” You mused. She shrugged. 
“Yea… I never really understood why, but the name stuck.”
You would come to understand why with time. She truly lived up to her namesake, her bright, contagious smile and her amusing personality making her a true Joy to be around. You liked her company, it made the office feel like less of a slave plantation. 
Your relationship with her was simple up til Christmas day. She invited you back to her place for a couple of drinks after an office party, and you gladly obliged. A few jokes, some snacks and quite a few glasses of wine later, your clothes were discarded together with Joy’s and you were taking her against the window of her apartment. After your fling with her that night, you two made a mutual agreement: What happened would be a one time thing. You were friends, simple as that.
However, neither of you really kept to the first part of the agreement. It was broken just a few weeks after when Joy pulled you into a storage room and sucked your cock.The she proceeded to take your cock up her pussy, your hand clasped around her mouth to prevent anyone from hearing her moans. You broke the agreement two months later, guiding her away from the poolside party at a friends house, ripping her bikini off her and fucking her senseless in the guest bathroom. Since then, sex with Joy happened almost on a weekly basis—sometimes a monthly basis if you two were really busy. No real feelings had manifested for Joy, and Joy certainly didn't seem interested to enter a relationship with you of all people. Hence, the two of you declared yourselves friends with benefits.
“Why are you still in the office?” You asked Joy, powering off your monitor. Soo-young sighed.
“Had to file my team’s paperwork again…” She lamented. “I really hate these slackers.”
“Same here,” You chuckled bitterly. “I just keep saving their asses over and over again while they go out drinking every other night… Ridiculous if you ask me.”
Joy laughed, clearly sharing a common sentiment. 
“Should’ve just shredded all the papers… Let those fucks rot for all I care,” Joy mused. 
“We’re on the last leg of the proposal submissions… Presentations are tomorrow,”  You reminded her. Joy nodded. 
“Yep… Which is exactly why I plan on calling in sick tomorrow,” She said. You raised an eyebrow. 
“Why?” 
Joy scoffed. 
“We’re the same. We both stay for long hours in the office saving our team’s asses, but we get zero recognition at the end of it all cause it’s a ‘group effort’,” Joy lamented. “I’ve been doing all the work. I want to see how they pitch the proposal without me tomorrow.”
You smirked. 
“You’re more cunning than I thought,” You mused. She winked. 
“I’ve got lots of ideas up here,” She said, tapping her head. “You know, maybe you should call in sick tomorrow too…”
You shook your head. 
“As much as I want to let my team burn to the ground, I don’t see myself doing that,” You told her honestly. Joy groaned.
“Oh my god! You and your morals!” She sighed. “Have a little fun! You certainly seem to be able to put aside your little moral compass when we fuck.”
“But that’s because… Because… Uh…” You struggled to argue. 
“Because what huh?” Joy pressed. “Because you like using my tight little body and ravishing my ass? Is that it?”
She wasn’t exactly wrong, but you didn’t want to let her win just like that. 
“And what if that is the reason? What are you gonna do, Joy?” You challenged her. Joy stared at you for a moment. Her brows furrowed, visibly deep in thought. 
“Alright then,” She finally said after some time. “If that really is the reason… I pitch you an offer.”
You crossed your arms over your chest. 
“Let’s hear it.”
Joy leaned against your desk.
“If you call in sick with me tomorrow, I’ll let you fuck me tonight.”
You raised an eyebrow.
“I’m guessing there’s a catch?” You prompted. She grinned. 
“But of course,” She replied. “If you fuck me tonight. You have to come to the beach with me tomorrow.” 
“That sounds like more of a win for me,” You told her bluntly. 
“It’s a win-win for the two of us,” She explained. “You get to fuck me and go to the beach—I get to screw over both our teams, get railed and go to the beach. Simple.”
You nodded your head thoughtfully, pretending to think it over. In truth, you had your answer ready for quite some time. 
“So?” Joy urged. 
“I accept your offer,” You answered. Joy grinned. 
“Perfect,” She said. “Now get your shit and let’s go. All this talk about sex has me aching for your cock.”
As she turned to leave, you grabbed her by the wrist. 
“Who said anything about leaving?” You asked. Joy raised an eyebrow.
“My my… Getting mischievous aren’t you?” She teased. 
“Well… Like you said: I can set aside my moral compass when it comes to fucking you.”
Joy smiled that lustful smile. 
“So are you just gonna keep talking? Or are you gonna kiss me?” 
In a flash, you were up on your feet, her tight frame in your arms and her lips on yours. Her hands touched your chest, your own hands on her ass.
“I know the pin to my boss’s office…” Joy whispered. “She has a couch in there.”
A sly grin made its way up your face. 
“Then what are we waiting for?” You asked. Joy giggled. She grabbed your hand, hurriedly pulling you towards the direction of her boss’s office.
Looks like your night was far from over.
You ran to that office with Joy like it was an emergency. Once there, Joy hurriedly punched in the numbers. A series of beeps, a green flash and Joy threw open the door, pulling you in with her.
“Any cameras in here?” You asked her. 
“Nope,” She replied confidently. “Funnily enough, the CEO turns off all the cameras at night to save money on electricity. That’s why we have so many security guards.”
“That sounds oddly convenient,” You mused.
You found a light switch and flipped it on. The room filled with warm light, revealing the spacious office that was at your disposal.
“Christ. Just shut up and undress me already,” Joy huffed. She moved to unbutton your shirt, and you did the same. The lacy fabric of her bra slowly became more and more visible with each button that came undone, heightening your excitement and making your cock twitch wildly in your pants.
Joy tugged at your pants.
“Get this off,” She whispered. You gladly undid your belt and unbuckled your trousers. They fell with a ‘thump’, pooling around your ankles and exposing the very apparent bulge in your underwear. Joy got her skirt off, making quick work of the article of clothing and tossing it to a side.
“Come here,” She said. She captured your lips, hands hooking the waistband of your underwear and pulling it down. You jolted a little when you felt the coolness of her palm against your shaft, but quickly adjusted, relishing the small sparks of pleasure when she stroked your length slowly. Your lips parted with hers, your eyes drinking in Joy’s curvaceous body.
“The usual?” She asked, toying with the tip of your cock.
“You pick,” You told her. There was a gleam in Joy’s eyes as she placed a finger on her lips, deep in thought. 
“I wanna ride you,” She decided. You grinned.
“Sure thing, but I want to eat you out first.”
Joy let go of your cock.
“Then fucking eat me.”
She guided you over to her boss’s desk. She propped herself up on it, spreading her luscious thighs apart and exposing a wet patch on her still-clothed pussy. It would only be a matter of time before her underwear would be discarded as well.
You didn’t need to be invited over. You were on your knees in a flash, hands pushing Joy’s spreading Joy’s legs a little further. Your index finger pressed against the damp spot on her panties, making her gasp when you started tracing the outline of her pussy with your fingertip.
“D-Don’t tease me like that…” She whispered. 
“I like to play with my food a little,” You smirked.  She whined, her voice full of need and desire.  She squirmed atop the desk, eyes squeezed shut and head tilted back. She made no further attempts to cease your teasing. 
When you eventually decided you had Joy riled up, you pulled the thin fabric of her panties off. Her pink folds glistened under the light. You licked your lips, mouth watering at the sight. 
You planted a kiss on her left thigh, then her right. Joy’s legs trembled in anticipation. 
“Look at me Joy,” You ordered. She bit down on her lower lip, eyes locking onto you. Maintaining eye-contact, you leaned forward and placed your mouth on her soaking pussy. 
You’d never forget her reaction when your tongue darted out, sweeping across her slick with the tip of your tongue. Her head whipped back, jet black hair sent flying behind her as she let a sharp sigh escape her lips. You quickly responded with another lick, your tongue tracing a path from the bottom of her slit to the top of her opening. Her juices accumulated on your tongue, her taste lingering in your mouth. 
Joy’s hand found your head. She gripped a fistfull of your hair, your name spilling out from her half-parted lips. Her thighs clamped around your head, the flesh drowning out the whir of the air conditioning — a warm, pillowy heaven. Her moans resonated through her body, her thighs vibrating slightly with each gasp or sigh. Your tongue attacked her folds, the flat side of your tongue brushing up Joy’s womanhood in slow, long strokes. The tip of your tongue flicked the swollen nub at the top of her pussy, playing with her clit to your heart's content as you made Joy writhe with pleasure.  Nails dug into the back of your skull. Her Thighs clamped down harder around your ears. Her juices leaked out of her cunt, pooling in your mouth as Joy pushed your head into her, forcing your tongue as deep as it could go. 
Her thighs shifted down slightly, gripping your cheeks in their grasps instead. 
“Fuck… Keep going… Keep eating me…” She pleaded, face twisting in pleasure. There was really no need for that request. You never intended on stopping till she came. 
It didn’t take long for you to get close to accomplishing your mission. When her thighs tensed around you, you increased the intensity of your assault. Joy’s breaths became shallower, the intervals between her moans decreasing with each one that left her mouth.
“Oh god… I’m cumming… I’m fucking—”
She never finished her sentence. Her throat strained visibly, her vocal chords tensing as the pleasure struck her like a bolt of thunder. In a sweaty, beautiful disarray, Joy orgasmed. Her lips formed a round “o”, her nails threatening to puncture your scalp. You lapped up the juices that gushed out from her entrance, drinking in as much of her as you could. You fell some of her sweet fluids dribbling down your chin, but you’d handle that later. 
You held her body down by her thighs as she shook and quivered on the table. Eventually she settled down enough. She brought her left hand—which had been digging into your scalp—-down to your cheek. She lifted up your head softly. 
“Couch… Let me fuck myself on your cock.”
You smiled. 
“With pleasure Joy.”
You stood up. Grasping her hand, you helped her off the table and onto the couch. Your cock throbbed violently in her hand as she gripped it firmly, guiding the tip of your shaft to her entrance.  Without a word of warning, she dropped down, sheathing you inside of her tight little cunt. Your eyes bulged, a strained sigh leaving your throat. Your hands found her full ass, gripping it tightly. 
“Fuck… I always forget how big you are…” She breathed, slowly grinding against you to adjust to your size. 
“But you never forget how much you love bouncing on my cock, do you Joy?” You asked. 
“Of course…” She replied, eyes glazed with pleasure. “I will never forget how good it feels to be filled with your cock.”
Her hips stopped moving. She shifted on top of you, her hands resting on your shoulders. She kissed you tenderly, tasting herself on your lips. 
“I’m gonna fuck myself so hard on this big cock,” She whispered. 
“Go ahead Joy,” You said. “Show me how you ride this cock.”
When she began bouncing on you, the sensation of her walls gripping and sliding up and down your shaft almost made you black out. You grounded yourself in reality with the aid of the tender flesh of Joy’s butt, your teeth clenching as she impaled herself on you relentlessly. Her pussy pulsed around your shaft, each beat matching her pace. 
“So… Fucking… Big…” She gasped. “I’m… Addicted… To your big cock.”
Her voice was raspy, filled with desire. She wanted this. She needed this.
You smirk, eyes glued to her breasts that were bouncing with each impact she made against you. She caught you looking, taking the hint and leaning forward to give you better access to her assets.
“Thank you,” You smirked through the overwhelming pleasure. You dived in, licking up the sweat between her breasts before shifting slightly to take one of her tits into your mouth. Joy’s walls seemed to clench down tighter around you, responding to the attention you gave her breasts. She moaned louder, riding you faster as your tongue swirled around her taut nipple. 
“Fuck yes, suck my tits. Suck my fucking tits!” She screamed. Her cheeks were flushed, her body glistening with sweat as she rode you fiercely. She wasn’t letting up on her pace, fucking herself harshly on your cock just as she promised. She seemed to be sucking you deeper and deeper between her folds. Each bottom of her strokes squeezed you deliciously, partially forcing you out of her pussy when she rose. The motion repeated, driving you closer and closer to the edge.
You could feel the cushion of the couch compressing under your combined weight, Joy’s frantic bounces onto you making it feel like you were on a trampoline. She moaned right into your ear, making your hair stand as her scent filled your nose. Joy overwhelmed your senses. You were going insane. 
She continued riding you, thighs clamped around your waist and her arms wrapped around your neck. You released her tit from your mouth, mounds of flesh glistening in a mixture of sweat and saliva. Joy’s eyes, half-lidded in pleasure, stared into yours. The intimacy was sublime. 
As much as you would have enjoyed letting Joy bounce on your cock forever, you had your limits.
“Joy…” You grunted. She understood. 
She stopped riding you, quickly dismounting you and sitting down next to you. Her hand gripped your shaft, slick with her juices, jerking you off frantically. 
“Quick, choose a place to cum,” She urged you. 
It takes effort. But through your gritted teeth, you manage a reply. 
“Y-Your face. Let me cover your face.”
Joy was on her knees in an instant. Her hand never left your shaft, pumping away with gusto as she closed her eyes. Her free hand fondled your balls, gently massaging your cum up your shaft as your toes curled into the carpet. With a grunt, you let loose.
Rope after rope of your hot seed shoots out of your cock. Joy’s face is covered almost instantly, your load painting her features white in your semen. She squeezed your cock, forcing every last drop of cum out of you. Your body went rigid in overwhelming bliss, your senses numbed by the force of your tidal wave of an orgasm. 
Joy waited patiently for the last drop of your cum to ooze out of your twitching shaft. Her tongue emerged from her cum stained lips, licking up your seed that was around her mouth before cleaning you up thoroughly. You mustered the strength to rest a hand on her head, gently stroking her sweat-matted hair as she worked on your cock, helping you to gently ease down from your high.
“That… Was better than I imagined,” You mused. 
“Ever since when has sex with me been a disappointment?” Joy grinned, gathering bits of your load off her face with her fingers. 
“That’s true…” You mused. Joy giggled, slapping your cock against her face. 
Joy waited for you to regain some strength, content with sucking your cock in the meantime. 
When you could finally stand, you assisted Joy in cleaning up the mess you made on her face. When all was said and done, you and Joy made sure that there were no odd stains left anywhere in her boss’s office. Once you were both sure that your deed would not be discovered, you hastily put your clothes back on. You turned off the lights and slipped out of the office. 
“That was fun,” Joy giggled, hugging your arm. “Now… I expect you to hold up your end of our deal.”
You chuckled.
“It would be rude of me not to after what we did,” You mused. Joy smiled. 
“Good… Then it looks like we’ll be seeing each other tomorrow.”
~~~~~~
The sun shined intensely on your face. Joy’s car cruised down the road, the wind catching her flowy black hair and making her sundress flap a little in the wind. 
“Quit staring at my tits will you?” She remarked. 
“You can’t blame me,” You defended yourself. She rolled her eyes.
“Right. I just look too good in this don’t I?” 
You chuckled, your eyes turning back to the road. The sand and the blue waters were visible now, you were close. 
“Take the exit just up ahead,” You instructed her. 
“I know what I’m doing. You don’t need to backseat drive,” She scoffed. 
“All right… You’re the boss…”
Joy smirked, pushing up her sunglasses a little. When the exit came, you were amused when Joy’s car sped right past it. 
“I thought you said you knew what you were doing?” You questioned.
“I do,” She answered confidently. 
“Then why the fuck did you miss the exit?”
“Cause we’re going somewhere else.”
You raised an eyebrow. 
“I thought you said we were going to the beach?” 
Joy smiled innocently. 
“We are, just a different part,” She answered. You gave her a look.
“What?” She asked. “Why are you giving me that side eye?”
You folded your arms. 
“Why are you suddenly changing our destination?” You interrogated. Joy’s lips formed a thin line.
“Relax. I’m not kidnapping you or anything,” She reasoned with you. “Just calm your ass down. We’re almost there.”
You were a little sceptical, but you knew better than to doubt Soo-young. But you still had the urge to have a final say.
“Always breaking agreements,” You muttered. 
“I heard that,” She told you.
“You were supposed to,” You replied. Joy clicked her tongue in annoyance, but you recognised that familiar cheeky glint in those eyes. She was having fun, so were you.
Joy drove for another 10 minutes or so. A roof of a structure slowly emerged, a stand alone seaside chalet revealing itself. 
“We’ll get the beach to ourselves here,” Joy grinned. You chuckled.
“You’re full of surprises,” You remarked.
“And you’re full of shit,” She shot back. 
Joy’s car pulled up to the gate of the chalet. She rustled through her tote bag for a bit before retrieving a remote. With a click of a button, the gate rolled open. Joy drove in, parking the car just outside the entrance to the small house.
“We came here on a team retreat a year ago, I figured out how to book it,” She told you.
“I didn’t ask,” You said.
“But you’re bound to ask at some point,” She fired back. 
She wasn’t wrong. 
You helped Joy to unload the things in her trunk, amused to find that she had brought beverages and meat to grill. You quickly deduced that this would be an overnight stay, realising why she asked you to pack an extra set of clothes. 
You entered the chalet with Joy. While Joy put your things in the room, you busied yourself with storing the meat and drinks in the fridge. It was quick work for the both of you. 
“Look around for a bit, I need to change,” Joy told you.
“Can I watch?” You asked. She slapped your arm.
“Fucking pervert.” 
You chuckled. Joy giggled a little before retreating back to the room and shutting the door behind her. You did as suggested, exploring the place a little while you waited for Joy to emerge out of the room. It was a cosy little spot, complete with an outdoor dining area that offered a breathtaking view of the sea. The view was great, but something told you that the view of Joy’s naked body would’ve been better. 
“All right. Let’s head to the water.”
You turned. Your mouth dried up. 
Joy sauntered towards you, towel in hand. Her wide hips swaying in those skimpy shorts that cut off perfectly around the fullness of those thighs, perky breasts bulging out behind that tight neon-yellow top on her body, bending the words “Life Is Sweet” around her ample tits. Her hair was tied up into a high ponytail, a cap sitting on her head to block out the harsh sun.
“What?” She prompted, giving you a look. 
“N-Nothing,” You quickly replied, shaking off the dirty thoughts in your head. “Let’s go…”
You slid the door open and walked out into the deck. You could hear Joy’s pattering footsteps behind you, and you had to resist the urge to look back and get another good look at her. You’d seen her in all sorts of clothing. Suits, dresses, mini skirts, you’d seen it all. Hell you’d even seen her naked countless times. 
But this? This felt so different for some odd reason. 
Your feet hit the sand, the grains crushing under your feet as you moved towards the water. 
“Wait,” Joy called out from behind. You turned—a little too enthusiastically—and saw her holding out a bottle.
“Put on some sunscreen,” She told you, walking up to you and uncapping the bottle. You held out a palm, and Joy pumped a generous dollop into your hand. You thanked her with a smile before applying the lotion onto your body. Joy busied herself with her own body, the Sunscreen making her skin gleam slightly before she rubbed the lotion into her skin completely. 
“Could you help me with my back?” She requested, turning her back to you. You quickly took a moment to soak in the shape of her ass in those shorts before walking over and taking the sunscreen from her. You pushed down, pumping some of the lotion onto your hand before applying it on Joy’s back. Your hands cheekily slipped under the bits of her top that clung to her back, earning a playful gaze from the woman. You took your time to rub the lotion into her smooth skin, savouring the curves of her body from behind. 
When you decided that you were satisfied, you stepped away. 
“All done,” You smiled innocently.
“You sure took your time. Had a good look?” She teased, catching you red handed. You smirked. 
“Definitely,” You replied. She smiled and pinched your cheek.
“What a cheeky boy…” 
Joy laid down a mat under the shade of a tree, far enough from the tide but close enough for you to quickly access the water. You walked towards the azure blue sea with Joy, wet sand squishing under your feet as you went deeper and deeper. The two of you didn’t go in too deep, stopping when the water hit your knees. A wind had picked up, and Joy stretched out her arms.
“Ah… This is nice…” She sighed. 
“Mhm,” You hummed in agreement. A smile made its way onto the girl’s face. 
“I wonder how our teams are fairing…” She giggled. 
“Not too well probably,” You answered truthfully. 
“Ah well… We all get what we deserve…” She sighed. “And we deserve this nice bit of relaxation…”
You nodded, silently agreeing with her. There was a moment of silence between you two as you both stood there, letting the water sweep around your knees. The sea water left a pleasant tingle on your skin, giving you some sort of a respite to the heat of the summer. 
Joy moved closer to you.  
“You know what’s nice about this?” She whispered. 
“What?” You asked. She stretched out her arm towards the shore.
“We have this segment of the beach to ourselves.” 
She moved in a little more, your bare arms touching each other. You caught her gaze. She smiled. 
“Say…” She began, gingerly reaching for your hand. “I wanted to ask you a question.”
“What is it?” You asked. Joy didn’t reply, opting to silently guide your hand onto her toned tummy. Your knuckles slipped past the waistband of her shorts, your fingers coming into contact with something warm and wet. Experience allowed you to deduce what exactly was against your fingertips.
“Ever thought about fucking on the beach?”Joy grinned. 
“Nope… But I’m down to try,” You replied.
As quickly as you had entered the water with her, you found yourselves back up on shore, tongues in mouths and hands on each other. Joy’s mat served as a barrier between you and the sand, providing a perfect place for you to lay Soo-young down and slip your digits into her slick folds. A moan escaped her lips, her front teeth becoming visible as she bit down on her fingernail. You pumped your hand, working your fingers deeper into her slick cunt, your lips peppering her neck with kisses and light nibbles. A stream of moans and whines flowed from Joy’s mouth.
“Oh yes… Right there baby… R-Right fucking there,” She hissed, hips jerking  when your fingers curled up and made contact with the soft flesh on the roof of her walls. 
“You’re so wet Joy,” You muttered. 
“I’m always wet for you…” She replied. 
You smiled. 
“You're always such a little slut for me, aren’t you?” You whispered into her ear. She nodded. 
“O-Oh… Y-Yes… I’m your little slut…” 
Your fingers worked faster, pumping harder and deeper into her warmth. She gasped sharply, her back arching deliciously. You bent her to your will, a dark part of you finding pleasure in making her yours.
“Oh shit… Don’t stop… Please don’t stop,” She whined, her left hand kneading her left breast while her right clung to your shirt sleeve for dear life. She let her sighs and gasps tumble out of her mouth, not bothering to control her volume as her hips start grinding against your hand. Her eyes filled with need, her tight body quivering and thrashing against your hand as she moaned your name into your ear. With each entrance of your fingers, a delightfully erotic squelch filled your ears, mixing with Joy’s filthy exclamations of pleasure. Your lips found Joy’s, muffling her cries with your mouth. Her thighs clamped down tightly around your hand, keeping you deep inside of her while you drove her wild. 
Your left hand found one of her taut nipples, and you gave the nub a pinch. Joy moaned into your mouth, her right hand shifting up and gripping your forearm. You released her lips, allowing you to hear those cute mewls and gasps clearly. Her moaning increased in volume, her eyes widening. 
“Fuck… I-I’m gonna cum,” She said, nails digging into your arm. “Keep fucking me with your fingers! I’m fucking… Oh!” 
Joy came, tight frame shaking violently. Her mouth opened  in a silent scream, pupils dilating further as her thighs quivered around your hand. Her back arched further, her breasts proudly protruding on her quivering chest. Your hand slowed, gradually halting to give Joy a breather through her high.  Her body crashes down on the mat mere minutes later, heaving with each breath Joy took as the bliss faded. Sweat beaded on her brow, her skin glistening deliciously under the light. 
Her weak left hand tilted your chin towards her. She finds your lips once more, holding you in a sweet kiss for a little before releasing you. 
“Fuck me however you want… Just promise that you’ll cum in me this time.”
You smiled. 
“Of course Joy…” You affirmed her. “Let’s get you undressed.”
Her soaking wet shorts were off in a flash, her skin-tight top following closely behind. Joy undid the strings of your shorts, pulling them down to let your hard cock spring out. Her hand gripped your shaft, slender fingers squeezing your member gently as she stroked you lazily. 
“The usual?” She asked. You nodded, feeling a little bit of Deja vu. Joy’s hand left your cock, planting itself behind her. She flipped herself belly down, her big juicy ass raised and presented for you. You pulled your shorts down past your knees before positioning yourself behind Joy. She looked back at you, that devilish smile on her face as you slapped your cock against her ass.  
“Put it in…” She whispered. 
“Patience, Joy… You’re always in such a hurry,” You  told her, taking your time to line yourself up with her slit. While you were aching to enter her, a dark part in you took pleasure in making the girl beg. 
“Please… Please just put in already…” She implored, a wanton expression wiping the smile off her face. You finally relented. 
You pushed your tip in, parting her flushed, pink lips as the rest of your cock slid into Joy’s cunt with ease. You groaned, hands gripping the full cheeks of her ass as you hilted yourself in her tight walls. It was pure bliss.
“God… You’re always so fucking tight Joy,” You hissed, spanking her with an open palm. She yelped in delight, ass rippling under the impact. 
“Fuck me…” She gasped. She was so full of need and lust. 
You did as she requested. Your hips popped back, your shaft redrawing from her slick momentarily before spearheading right back into the depths of her cunt. You gave her no time to adjust, quickly establishing a rough, frantic, carnal pace and taking her pussy. Joy was gasping, crying, screaming in delight, her ass rippling hypnotically with each deep stroke you made. Her little body rocked, the warmth of her ass cushioning your crotch with each entrance. Her hands dug into the sand, fingers buried deep in the grains to hold her steady as you pounded her tight little pussy mercilessly. Her walls sucked you in, pulling you deeper and deeper into her till you could feel the warmth of her core on the tip of your cock. Jolts of pleasure shot up your spine and through your nervous system. 
Joy lowered her upper body to the ground, deepening the angle of your frantic thrusts into her. You reached down, hands quickly locating her swaying breasts and cupping them. You played with her soft ample mounds, relishing Joy’s curves in your palms. 
“Oh fuck Joy… You take my cock so well,” You grunted. 
“My body… Was made to take your cock,” She hissed back. “This pussy is yours. Take my slutty little pussy like it’s yours.”
She made eye contact with you for the nth time. The look in her eyes made something snap inside of you. 
Your palm left her tits, pushing down on the small of Joy’s back. Her face dug into the mat, her thighs spreading even further to take you deeper into her folds. She screams your name, begging you for more. 
You doubled down on Joy, your slick shaft emerging and disappearing between her slick pussy lips.  Her hand reached between your bodies, rubbing frantically at her clit. 
“Oh fuck fuck fuck! Fuck me fuck me fuck me!” She cried, sounding breathless. She was enjoying every last second of her treatment. The waves crashed against the shore, doing little to mask the screams of pleasure escaping from Joy’s lips.
You fucked Joy into the sand, taking control of her body as you bent over her to keep her pinned between you and the mat. 
“How does it feel Joy?” You growled into her ear. “How does it feel being fucked like a dirty little slut?”
Joy struggled to answer.
“It feels… So… Fucking good…”
The pure filth coming from her mouth spurred you, making you fuck her faster, harder… You wanted to fuck her senseless like you always did. Joy loved taking your cock till her mind went blank. Be it in the office, in between her own sheets or even in a car, she relished the feel of your cock stretching her out and fucking her till her brain rattled in her skull. There was no such thing as “Slow” when you were with Joy. 
Your hand gripped her ponytail, yanking back hard till her head was looking straight ahead. 
“I’m gonna fucking cum Joy,” You hissed. “I’m gonna fucking cum inside your tight little cunt.”
“Yes yes yes… Do it! Fill me! I need it so fucking bad!” She grunted. Your hand leaves her hair, both hands gripping her wide hips roughly as you give Joy all you had.
Your orgasm almost made you black out. You buried yourself as deep as you could inside Joy’s body, struggling to keep your upper body upright. Your cock spasmed and pulsated, your body quivering and shaking — absolutely overwhelmed by pleasure. Joy’s sighs drowned out the noises around you, a dull ring in your ears as you pumped your load into her awaiting cunt. It takes an eternity for you to recover. When you do, Joy was quick to request for more. 
“I want it in my ass next…” She told you. Through your sweat-matted hair, you managed a grin. 
“Coming right up.”
You wouldn’t be going back into the water for quite some time.
~~~~
A cool evening breeze ruffled your hair, rustling the leaves of trees behind you as you sat on the deck with Joy. Her head rested on your shoulder, mouth busy chewing on the piece of meat in her mouth. There was a pleasant silence between the two of you, both of you silently listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. 
“Feed me another piece,” Joy requested. You gladly obliged, poking a slice of grilled meat with your fork and bringing it to her mouth. She bit it off your fork, chewing happily. 
“You know… I think we should do this more often,” She told you between bites. 
“There’s a limit on the number of times we can call in sick Joy,” You reminded her.
“Ah who fucking cares,” She said. “We can probably find other loopholes in the system.”
You chuckled. 
“I guess so,” You mused. She tapped your hand. You fed her another piece of meat.
A deep sigh left her mouth. You risked a glance down, noting the look of content on her face as she stared out into the sea. The sun was setting just past the horizon, an orangish-golden glow illuminating the surface of the water. The sunlight blended with the deep blue water of the sea, the sun reflected on the surface of the water. It was… Oddly romantic.
“Thanks for coming out with me today,” Joy said. “I really appreciate it.” 
You smiled. 
“No problem Soo-young,” You replied. “I needed this break either way.”
Joy giggled. 
“I know. So did I.”
“So was I always meant to be invited?” You questioned. 
“Hm… Maybe.”
You feigned offence. Joy laughed and smacked your arm playfully.
“Well… Intended or not, I’m glad you asked me to come,” You told her sincerely. Her expression softened. 
“That’s great… Would’ve been a waste if you didn’t,” She replied. 
Your eyes met hers. For once, past the cheekiness, past the lust and past the mischief, you saw a faint glimmer of… something behind her gaze. Something stirred in you.
You looked back out towards the sea, feeling an odd sensation on your chest. You didn’t know what it was, but it made you hold Joy a little closer.
Maybe… Just maybe… You felt like the two of you were more than just friends with benefits.
-------------------
Hello. Hope you enjoyed this one. I had a little bit of a Joy overdose so...
Anyways, thanks for stopping by and reading! Have a great day!
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What about I could do this all day but with Arthur curry, where he is being flirty and complimenting the reader all day, even she and others are like he can't keep going, and he does and maybe it ends with him taking reader out on a date and then she starts flirting with him all day
.⋆。Keep Going。⋆.
Arthur Curry x plus size reader
Sick of Arthur’s relentless flirting, you strike back.
Warnings: flirting, idiots in love, fluff, pick up lines are from google
WC: 730
Minors DNI
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3000 Follower Celebration
He was desperate, charming, delusional and all around annoying but there was no way you could hate him, he was just too endearing. Arthur had been following you around the Justice League tower all day like a lost puppy, showering you with any compliment he could think of. 
“I’d bet you’d look great dressed in kelp.” You came to a screeching halt and whipped around, brow raised at the huge man who was walking behind you. “Y’a know when we get married, you’ll have to wear something seafood-like and I think kelp would compliment your skin perfectly.” Your face, which already seemed permanently heated from all the attention, got even hotter.
“Oh my god.” You groaned, hiding your face behind the file you were holding.
“Actually, I think coral might look better on you, maybe a starfish or two.”
“Arthur!” You hissed, hyper aware of the fact that you were in a building full of superheroes who did not appreciate fraternisation in their League.
But Arthur just smirked as he leaned against the wall only a few inches from you. “C’mon, just let me take you out already.” He practically begged, a stark contrast from his casual stance. 
As hard as you might try, you couldn’t resist those big amber eyes looking down at you like you were his whole world. Sighing, you gave him a nod. “Fine, one date! Just one!” Immediately his back straightened and he wrapped you in a tight hug, making you yelp.
“You better go put some socks on princess cause I’m about to knock them off!” And with that, he bounded away, chattering to himself about what kind of date he would take you on.
“Are you sure about picking that one? I know lots of better men and women that would do anything for a chance with you.” Diana practically materialised by your side, gazing disapprovingly at her teammate. 
You chuckled. “Well, he is kind of cute.”
——————
It wasn’t just one date, it was five. Barely 10 minutes into your first date (he brought you to the fucking aquarium) you were lost forever.
The flirting never stopped either, in fact, it somehow got worse. Every second sentence that left his perfectly kissable mouth was either a compliment or some lewd joke that was so bad it even made Batman blush. So you were expecting Diana to come crawling to you, begging it to stop for the sake of everyone else.
You started that morning, as soon as Arthur stepped from the zeta tube. You wolf-whistled and gave him a slow once-over. “Damn baby, if you were a Transformer you'd be Optimus Fine.” He froze comically, his eyes wide, his jaw dropped open in shock. He pulled himself together quickly and wrapped your wide hip in a bruising grip, smashing his lips to yours.
As Arthur scoured the fridge in the League kitchen several hours later, you walked into his peripheral vision and smirked as your own gaze fell onto his pert backside. “Do you drink a lot of Sprite? Because you look so-da-licious!” His head whipped around with a sickening click.
“What did you just say?” You shrugged.
“You heard me, sexy.” He groaned as his eyelids fluttered. You winked at him and turned to leave, abandoning Arthur with his little ‘problem’.
The conference room was dead silent as you all looked over your individual assignments with the occasional shuffling of papers or the sound of someone clearing their throat. Your new boyfriend sat beside you, one large hand planted firmly on your plump thigh, his fingers gently rubbing circles into the soft skin. 
Just as you finished off your reading a deafening sound came from the man beside you as he violently sneezed into his elbow. Immediately, everyone looked his way. “I would've said "God bless you" after that sneeze, but it looks like he already has.” Now all eyes were on you as you smirked evilly. They all groaned collectively at the bad line. 
Arthur’s hand tightened on your leg in warning. You squeezed his hand in return. “Stop.” He muttered under his breath as the others returned to their work, Diana smiling suspiciously.
“Stop what?” You asked dumbly.
“You will run out of pick-up lines eventually and when you do, I’ll be there.”  “Oh love, I could do this all day.” You retorted with a kiss to his bearded cheek.
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