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riaki · 4 months

Note

haii >:3 i was wondering of you could write a thing on if reader was a classmatw of gojo when they were in jujutsu tech? ur hsbullt gojo was really well written 💗

sorry if i sound rude, im not familiar with how tumblr works ;(

hey there!! thank u sm for ur ask nonnie ! hope this is good... and don’t worry!!!! ur perfectly fine my love 🤍

classmates | satoru gojo x reader cw: calls u princess, swearing

1:34PM. 5/21/06 - JUJUTSU TECH GYM - more than friends, less than lovers

"fucking hell, satoru!" you rub your head slowly, gritting your teeth as pain hammers the side of your skull; feels like a bruise is going to form, and you’re pretty sure you have basketball line marks on your face.

satoru jogs over to you, the rubber soles of his shoes squeaking on the gym floor. there's that pesky grin on his lips again, and his eyes shine, a vibrant glow of youth. he’s not apologetic at all, you think with gritted teeth. he slows to a stop a few yards away from you, a panting, sweaty mess, yet you find yourself irritably drawn to him either way. he shoots you a quick wink, fanning himself with his shirt in a way that lets the dip of his hip expose itself to the musty air of the gym. a droplet of sweat slides down his skin, and your face burns.

"yo! pass me that ball, [name]." he waves an eager hand towards you, and you roll your eyes, tossing the basketball in his direction. it lands square on his chest with a thump, eliciting a little ‘oof’ from his lips and pressing the cotton of his shirt against his damp skin. and it sticks, defining his muscles in patches of wet cloth. the summer heat must really be getting to you, because the sound of his voice has your thoughts running far, far away from you.

you’re yanked back into reality when a little huff escapes his glossy lips, wiping his forehead and messing up his soft white hair, stray strands clinging together over his eyes. shoko made away with his sunglasses, which means you’ve got a front seat view of those gorgeous, yet equally uncanny irises. "hey, you've got a solid throw. you should give it a shot, yeah? why not join me 'n suguru for a round—"

“hell no.”

he just laughs at that, haughty and everything you should really learn to hate as he turns on his heel and heads back toward the center of the court, where suguru is waiting with an irked expression on his face.

“suit yourself, princess.” he tosses a wave in your direction of his shoulder, and you raise a hand to your chest, feeling your heart slam against your ribcage.

9:02AM. 11/06/07 - JUJUTSU TECH CLASSROOM - best friends

“so.”

gojo glances at you, as if surprised you broke the silence. you can see your own reflection in the lens of his shades, hiding his gaze from the world. sunlight filters in through the windows; it’s early, a break between classes. it shouldn’t be stuffy in the classroom with the windows open, but it still feels suffocating.

you stare at him, and he stares back from his seat atop your desk. his lips are curved down in that usual unamused look he’s always sporting, but there seems to be weight in his shoulders; a ghost tugging his muscles down, stiffening the muscles in his neck to the point where you wish you could just offer him a massage. but you’re not sure if he’d let you get close enough to ever do that.

“what?” he snaps, glaring at you as he sticks his bottom lip out. at least, you think he’s glaring— it’s been harder to tell lately, what’s on his mind. not that you were ever able to read him easily before, though. he likes to hide.

you kick the leg of the desk he’s sitting on with a foot, sighing and humming to yourself for a moment or two. you don’t see it, but gojo’s expression softens slightly and he looks back up at the ceiling again, callused fingers curling around the edge of the desk. the pale color of his skin makes the veins on his hands more prominent; a subtle, muted blue that makes you want to run a hand over his arm.

the two of you had stopped by a store that morning. you’d bought a cup of coffee and two onigiri for yourselves, but it seems like he’s already finished his. you know right now is the prime time for his appetite to flare up— with adolescence and all, but he doesn’t seem to be eating much. or at least, not from what you can tell.

“here, have this.”

gojo glances down at you once more, letting himself observe you with his full vision; not one that’s always hidden behind a layer of thick black stained glass, meant to absorb the pain and the headaches for him. you, who’s so gentle and soft with him— surely you wouldn’t cause him any sort of aching, if not for the one inside the cavity of his chest. it takes him a moment to realize you’re holding out something to him— your onigiri, half eaten. there’s a shriveled little plum showing, burrowed between the layers of sticky rice and dry seaweed wrappings.

he’s uncharacteristically silent as he grabs it from you, the crinkle of the plastic wrapping the only noise in the world as he stares at it for a moment before starting to eat. his cheek puffs when he starts chewing; the bob of his adam’s apple in his throat when he swallows makes it hard for you to stifle a smile. even with the weight of all he’s carrying, gojo still manages to look like a child every now and then. you can’t help but think he’s grown up too fast.

you let a moment of silence pass, stealing a long glance at him as he busies himself with his half of the rice ball, wolfing it down.

“i know i cant offer much to you, satoru…” you started quietly; tenderly, if he listened closely. the way you say his name makes his throat constrict in a way he’s not familiar with.

“…but if you ever need something— anything— i’ll be here. plus, i never finish my onigiri anyway. so you can have the half i don’t eat,” you laughed, closing your eyes and listening to the morning breeze outside. gojo takes the opportunity to observe you; the soft curve of your cheeks, the way your lashes curl, the soft fade of your full lips at the edges and the hair that frames your face.

you can feel his eyes on you, but you let him get away with it. it feels like an infinite eternity goes by before his voice finally cuts through the thick air.

“…have you been resting? the bags under your eyes are darker than usual.” he pokes at you, shifting again, but you seem to revel in the comfortable familiarity of his banter; something that makes his heart ache in a way only you elicit from him. the way you pull at his heart strings is so natural and easy that it’s unnatural to ignore.

“probably more than you have,” you teased. gojo sniffles, and you chalk it up to the seasonal illnesses.

2:46AM. 12/07/08 - JUJUTSU TECH DORMS - ?

it’s half past two in the morning when you get gojo’s text. or, more accurately, the one you forced him to send when he returned from his mission.

m done. u can come pver

he looks a little too much like a zombie when you knock on the door of his dorm and it swings open for you, revealing him in all his tired glory. the bags under his eyes are redder and darker than usual, and his hair is tussled and messy. it’s obvious he hasn’t bothered to clean himself up. his white tee is stained with something damp; his tears, but you don’t dwell on it. there’s a bandaid on the bottom of his jaw; you can see a hint of angry red scrapes peeking out from beneath the beige material.

“you look like shit.”

“are you gonna come in or not?”

you oblige and step inside, the plastic bag in your hand rustling with each movement. it’s a bit loud, and you just pray you don’t get caught sneaking into gojo’s room this late at night. at least you know which boards creak.

he closes the door behind you, crossing his arms over his chest and observing you. you look the same as you always do, but the way your hair falls over your face makes him want to brush it back, like some unresolved impulse. he doesn’t do anything about it; hanging around you for so long has taught him how to keep himself in control. for as long as he can manage, anyway.

he speaks up first, voice hoarse and low with lack of use. “what’s in the bag?” he makes it sound like it’s something illegal. and at this point, you’re not sure if the feeling that pushes you to do things for him should be considered so, because sometimes it feels like it.

“a birthday cake. or— it’s a fruit tart i stayed up to make.” you said, placing the bag on his cluttered desk, pushing away photo frames and bloody tissues and pencils shaven down to eraser stubs to make room for the box. satoru meanders over to you, peering over your shoulder with one hand on the desk to support himself. you can feel his breath on your neck, hot even in the darkness. it makes your hands clammy.

moonlight spills in from the windows next to his bed, but it’s not enough, so you turn on the lamp and open the box. the tart’s been through quite a bit— jostled in transport, marred in the making— but the sweet smell of fruit and cream makes his mouth water nonetheless.

“wow, that’s nice of you. weirdly so, actually. are you really [name]?” you can hear the grin in satoru’s voice, and you know he can hear the exasperation in your voice when you reply, using the plastic utensils you packed to cut a slice for him. the red strawberry juice stains the cream as your knife slices through, a rivulet of vermillion.

“shut up and be grateful. you get the slice with kiwi and the rotten blueberries just for that,” you huff, indignantly in a way that reminds satoru of a rather petulant housecat. he takes the tart from you, cold fingers ghosting over yours as the golden brown crust crumbles in his palm.

ignoring the sour berries, the taste is like a bite of heaven, but not the distant kind that’s hidden behind a veil of clouds. the kind that’s only found within the quaint, humble warmth of a homely kitchen, made with love by one’s own hand. your hand. the knowledge tastes all the sweeter on his tongue.

he’s snapped from his dazed pastry-savoring stupor when you speak up again, enjoying a slice of your own.

“happy birthday, gojo.” he stiffens, but he’s not quite sure why. if you notice his change in demeanor, you don’t say anything about it.

“congrats to another year,” you smiled, lifting up your half-eaten tart, not unlike the onigiri you’d shared with him a year ago. except this time he reciprocates, and you share a toast of berries and cream in the darkness of his dorm, at 3am on a quiet sunday.

the dorms are silent. the only sound is the wind outside, throwing leaves and dust at the window panes as it sings a tune in ode to winter. come tomorrow, it’ll likely be silenced by a coating of thick, white snow; unmoving, burying the secrets of the earth beneath the glittering icicles. not unlike the boy next to you, with pretty blue eyes that are constantly focused yet distant all the same, hair the color of clouds and face worn with age unbefitting of a child.

come tomorrow, the snow will fall and snuff out the life of the flowers and plants. but in this tranquil bubble of time, satoru is as free as a dove outside of its silver cage.

he reaches over, pulling you in by the sleeve of your night shirt and pressing a quick, chaste kiss to the corner of your lips. it happens in the blink of an eye; a moment of impulse, where for once, he allows himself to breathe; to let down the walls he literally holds up around him, to let his fingers curl into the fabric of your clothes and breathe in your scent, taste the heat on your skin and the buttery sweet crumbs dotting the curve of your lips; the dips in the corners of your mouth that make you always look so pretty when you smile.

when he pulls away, he refuses to meet your gaze, instead staring down at the only remaining clue of the tart in his palm— a single, rotten blueberry, squishy and soft. the silence rings in his ear as his face becomes hot.

“what was that for?” you ask quietly, staring angrily— in embarrassment, into nothing.

“there were crumbs on your mouth,” he explains.

nothing more, nothing less.

my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize !

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cillianhead · 6 months

Note

Give us thigh riding with Cill or Tommy, please 🙏🏻😮‍💨

Thank you nonny for this wonderful request <3

Lazy Sundays || Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: Smut, thigh riding, cursing, sort of exhibitionism (Cillian is on the phone while... reader rides his thigh), choking, Cillian being a little rough with reader, degradation, general adult content!!

18+ Minors DNI

The sun had barely risen when you woke up, and Cillian was nowhere to be found, which was unlike him so early in the morning. You frowned as you sat up, rubbing your sleepy eyes, and softly slipped out of bed to find your husband.

You found him at the bottom of the stairs, grumbling on the phone with someone. You assumed it was something work-related. You quietly padded down the stairs and sat down next to him with a gentle smile, still incredibly sleepy and wanting to go back to bed.

"Hey baby," He mouthed to you silently before grumbling something back to whoever was on the phone was. He wrapped an arm around him, pulling you into his side. You curled around his arm and nuzzled your face into his soft sleeve. "Thanks, Gary... bye, mate." Cillian muttered before hanging up the phone.

"Cillian..." You whispered with a pout. "Let's go back to bed... you promised a lazy Sunday today... and it's too early..." You winged.

"Sleepy girl," He chuckled breathily, leaning in and pecking you on the lips. You hummed happily at the little sliver of love he gave you. "Come on, darling... let's go back to bed." He extended a hand out to you as he stood up and you took it gratefully as you yawned dramatically.

Cillian gave you a gentle smack on your ass as you crawled into bed. "Why'd you do that?!" You whined.

"'Cause I can," He snickered, pulling the both of you under the covers and pulling you close to him, conveniently placing his thigh right in between your legs. "You're so beautiful." His voice was low and gravelly; he was still quite groggy from how early it was in the morning, and the low vibrations made you feel so fucking dizzy.

"Cillian..." You whispered as he slipped off his long sleeve shirt and ushered you to take yours off too.

"Morning sex?" Cillian asked as if you would say no. "Please, baby? Fuckin' had the nicest dream about you last night."

"Oh, yeah?" You grinned, the both of you fully topless and Cillian's thumbs rolling easy circles on your exposed nipples. "What happened in it-"

RING! RING!

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," Cillian groaned, reluctantly pulling away from you slightly to reach over to his phone that lie on the bedside table. "It's from the same bloke... he's tryin' to arrange a time for an interview." You whined as he started to get out of bed.

"No... stay..." You clung onto him, digging your fingernails into his biceps. "I'll be good... I promise..." You gave him those eyes you knew he couldn't deny.

"Alright, just be quiet..." He said cautiously, laying back down as he brought the phone to his ear. "Hey, Gary... what's up? Somethin' wrong?"

As you zoned out of the conversation, scooting yourself slightly closer to Cillian, trying your best to seem as casual as possible. Cillian hummed as he discussed a time and place and chatted on the phone, not paying mind to the fact your thinly-clothed cunt was beginning to slowly grind itself on his thigh. Biting your lip, keeping in your whines as you looked up at Cillian, feeling incredibly flustered by how nice his thigh felt against your clit. You noticed the stubble that accumulated along his picture-perfect jaw and rolled your eyes into the back of your head as you found the perfect rhythm. He was so perfect; every part of him fit perfectly with you... or inside of you. No one else's thigh could get you off the way his do.

It took Cillian a few moments to realize what was happening, and by then, it was too late to stop you. He raised an eyebrow disapprovingly. You knew he couldn't say anything, which made you smirk. He could just push you off of him, and you'd stop, yet here you were, shuddering with pleasure as he flexed his thigh precisely to enhance the pleasure you were feeling. He kept talking nonchalantly, acting as if his hot wife wasn't fucking herself on his leg, acting as if he didn't have a raging boner that was begging to be touched. The man on the other end of the phone had not even the slightest clue that there was anyone else even in the room with Cillian.

"Sounds good," Cillian hummed. "Alright, yeah... see you then." And when he tossed his phone to the side (not before turning it completely off), he looked at you with a fire blazing in his eyes. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" "I... don't know... what... you're talking about..." You said through tiny gasps.

"Yeah?" He quipped as he jolted his thigh right up into your pussy, causing you to let out a loud mewl. "Why the fuck is there a wet patch on me leg then? Hmmm?"

"Don't know... Cillian..."

He shook his head in disbelief before curling his fingers around your throat and pushing you down into the sheets until he was hovering above you, his hand still choking you firmly. "Such a spoilt whore," Cillian growled as he slipped your soaking panties down until you were entirely bare before him. "You couldn't even wait five minutes for me to get off the bloody phone."

"J-Just... I'm so horny..." You whined, voice high pitched, and your body writhed for any sort of touch as he held your thighs open. Your glistening hole was on display for him. It felt shameful and humiliating the way he was looking at you. Despite the fact he had seen you in every angle there was to be seen and had seen your vagina countless times, it still felt painfully vulnerable when he had you spread out like this. "Please..."

"I know," He soothed, running a finger down the smooth skin of your inner thighs. "You just can't help it..." He cooed, and you smiled at how sweet he was being. "Y'just so dumb and pathetic, aren't you? Can't think about anything except gettin' fucked when I'm around... know you can't help it, yer just a girl..." He whispered into your ear, and you were revelling in his words and gentleness until he placed a harsh and hard smack right on your poor clit.

"Fuck!" You cried, arching your back. "Why'd you do that?!"

"Don't pretend to be innocent, Y/N," Cillian muttered as he switched the position so you were straddled on top of his thigh. "Go on, ride my thigh." He demanded.

"But..." You slid your hands up his other thigh to where his cock fought with his trousers to be free. "I want you... inside of me..." "Too bad, eh?" Cillian smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Yer not getting any help either, gonna have to do it all yourself... like a big girl." Cillian leaned back, a smug grin on his hauntingly beautiful face.

So slowly, feeling awfully embarrassed, you pressed your naked sex against his hairy thigh and began rocking yourself in slow motions. You closed your eyes, holding onto Cillian's waist for balance as you picked up the pace, moaning desperately for release.

"Look at the mess you're making," Cillian scolded with a 'tsk tsk', eyes fixed on the way you rubbed yourself on his thigh. "Gushin' all over me leg, you look so cute."

"Let me cum on your thigh..." You whined quietly, head hung low with shame as you felt your impending high coming closer and closer. "Please." "You're gonna cum already?" Cillian laughed condescendingly. "Go on then, give me a show."

You nodded and mumbled a sweet little 'thank you' before grounding your pussy even harder and faster into his sticky thigh until you found yourself trembling on top of him. His hands now reached out to you, guiding your hips along for you while you let yourself be swallowed whole by your orgasm. He knew you were too limp to do it yourself and even once you were done he kept rocking you back and forth with his hands, moving you like a puppet until you were begging for him to stop.

"Please... Cillian..." You cried, trying to raise your hips up to stop the torturous friction. "Please... it's too much." "Nuh-uh... want one more from ya... then I'll consider giving you my cock."

You squeezed your thighs tightly around his, clit aching from the sore friction and how overstimulating it was. Cillian was mesmerized by the way you looked, too busy watching the way his thigh grew wetter and wetter and the way your hips looked in his hands. It was the most beautiful sight to be seen... and with the added sound of your sweet moans of his name... he felt like he could cream his pants without even laying a hand on his cock.

"That's it, angel girl," He praised, bucking his thigh up into you harshly. "You look so pretty, so perfect, getting me all wet."

"Gonna cum... again..." You choked out, eyelids squeezed shut as you began convulsing.

"There we go, give it to me," He cooed, voice low and intoxicating. "Fuckin' hell," He could feel your cum leak out onto his thigh, it was almost a bit ridiculous how wet you got from him and how much of a mess you made. "Good girl... good girl... that's right."

You collapsed on top of him once he finally set you free. You panted, crawling up so your head was by his, and you kissed him gently. "Thank you... thank you... Cillian..." You whispered, all dazed and sleepy since it was still early in the morning.

"Not done with you yet," Cillian whispered, running his lips along your sensitive neck. "I think you've been good enough for a treat."

Your ears perked up at that and suddenly your eyes were no longer drooping. You sat up like an excited dog and looked at him with your head tilted. "What is it?"

"Gonna let you suck me cock," He grunted, slipping the band of his Calvin Klein briefs down until his hard cock laid flat on his stomach, oozing precum from his pinkish head. Your lips parted as you drooled at the sight and wrapped your fingers around his thick shaft. You were practically making heart eyes at it. "Don't act all shy on me now, love... go on... I know you know how to suck me off... now go on and do it, and I'll cum down your pretty throat."

-----

i listened to cry by cigarettes after sex on repeat while listening to this. i hope you enjoyed! it's short but i like it :-)

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #cillian murphy oneshot #cillian x y/n #cillian murphy fanfiction #jackson rippner #raymond leon #jonathan crane

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 2 years

Text

Hunka Hunka Burnin Love

Character/Fandom: Austin Butler

Requested: yes - nonnies ♥️

Prompt: You were cast in the role of Dixie Locke, Elvis' girlfriend from Memphis, which means you've spent quite a bit of time with the star of the show, Austin. He can't seem to keep his hands off of you on the red carpet and others are starting to notice. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Aus is kinda rough in this ngl but i think that's all?

Rating: M, it's pwp let's be honest here || Word Count: 3986

A/N: it's been a hot min since i graced y'all with some smut, but i hope you enjoy this one cause i have like 3 more smuts queued for this week so BUCKLE UP BABES I HOPE U BROUGHT UR HORNY HATS

also let's play a game lolol i describe aus's outfit in this and i want y'all to send me pics of which outfit you think i'm describing lmao

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

You glance in the mirror one more time, fluffing up your hair with your fingers. You stick your lips out into a pout and peer into the glass before shaking your head with embarrassment. What are you doing? You shouldn’t be egging him on in public like this. It’s not professional.

Since being cast as Dixie Locke, one of Elvis’ ex-girlfriends, you’d been spending a lot of time together with Austin. Maybe a little too much time. It has been an honor playing the part and, although it seems small, you’ve filmed a large number of scenes with the leading man. As can be expected with a man as fine as Austin Butler, you found yourself catching feelings pretty quickly. Austin is just so handsome, sweet, and respectful. He’s irresistibly charming, practically magnetic. It’s only natural that you would fall in love with him.

Although you haven’t used the words “boyfriend” or “girlfriend” yet, you both know that your relationship is exclusive. Even though you’d made the decision together, you’d also agreed that it’s best to keep your relationship a secret until the press from the movie has died down.

As far as the public is concerned, you and Austin are friends. And you’re going to stay friends because that’s what is best for your relationship, both professionally and emotionally. Whether it was best for your sexual or mental well-being is a different question, but you push the thought out of your mind, turning around to check out your ass in the floor-length black gown. You heave a deep breath and exit the women’s bathroom. As soon as you step out, you hear your name being called by Olivia. You turn toward her with a smile, making your way over to where she’s standing. She holds out her hands and you take them with an excited squeeze.

“You look so incredibly hot!” Olivia says with a big grin. You pretend to pose for the camera, fluttering your eyelashes with a giggle.

“Thank you, but I’m nothing compared to you, queen!” you shout back, gesturing at her amazingly gorgeous white dress. She laughs and then twirls around with a curtsey.

“Holy shit…”

You whirl around at the sound of that familiar deep voice behind you. You know it’s Austin before you can even see him. Your breath hitches in your throat as you gaze over at him. He looks so incredibly handsome in a black suit with a subtle sparkle to it and a silky black scarf hanging loosely around his neck. Out of instinct, you bite your lip and smile at him as you catch his eyes tracing down your figure. You feel flustered, heat rising into your face and ears as Olivia starts a conversation with Austin about all of your outfits.

Soon, it’s time for you all to go out to the red carpet for pictures and interviews. You have been informed that most of your photos will be singular shots of you, but obviously a few will be taken with Austin since your characters are so close in the film. But for now, you’re about as far from him on the carpet as you possibly could be. You maneuver yourself onto your designated space on the carpet, propping a hand on your hip sassily. The dress was designed by Gucci and it hugs your body in all the right places. The black matching heels are extremely tall, elongating your legs in a way that makes them look impossibly tall and toned. You feel sexy, you have to admit. You glance to the right to flash a smile at some reporters shouting your name. Since you're looking the other way, it scares you when Austin’s hand expertly slides around the back of your waist.

“Hi gorgeous,” that low seductive voice of his practically moans into your ear. You flip around and smile up at him, unable to stop your eyes from darting down to his lusciously plump lips.

“Hi there,” you whisper back.

He is so beautiful and even more so when he’s staring down at you like that, with his eyes hungrily searching every centimeter of your body. You feel heat creeping back into your face again, so you avert eye contact and return to posing for the cameras. You let your hand momentarily rest on Austin’s chest, your fingers slyly pushing the half-buttoned fabric out of your way. His fingers curl around your waist and your hand on his chest, pulling you closer to him.

“You look so sexy, babe,” he says, bending his head down into your hair.

He presses a soft kiss to the top of your head and your eyes go wide. He’s kissed your hand and your cheek in public before, but somehow this feels much more intimate. Much more dangerous. And he lingers for a moment, just a second too long.

“Thank you,” you reply, tossing your head back and away from him.

“You know, there's a place we could go for a while,” he says quietly into your ear.

Your surprise at his suggestion sparks a physical reaction as your ankle slips off the side of your heel. You teeter backward for a moment before Austin’s hand tightens around your waist to keep you from falling and completely embarrassing yourself.

“Jesus Christ, sorry,” you mutter and shrug with a nervous smile at the reporters who are erupting into a chorus of chuckles as they continue to flash their cameras.

“Weak in the knees for me, are ya?” Austin teases with a stupid smirk resting on his face. You choke out a chuckle and shake your head but his grip tightens around your waist. “It’d just be the two of us. We could…you know..."

You feel his fingers dropping lower on your back, starting to curve over the top of your ass. Your hand shoots back to bring his hand back up to your waist.

“Wouldn’t everyone notice?" you hiss. "I mean, you are the star. It’s not like you can just disappear for an hour without being missed.”

You push yourself out of his grasp and lean up to peck his cheek innocently. You’ve spent too much time together taking photos and are paranoid that the media will get suspicious.

“Just meet me in the back hallway by the bathrooms. I’ll take care of everything.”

He turns toward the cameras, smiling with a wave before moving on to a different section of the carpet to take photos with Helen, who plays Elvis’ mother Gladys. Your eyes can’t help but drift to his ass as he walks away, and you bite your lip as you think about grabbing onto it with all of your strength as he-

“Y/N here!” a photographer’s shrill yell interrupts your thoughts.

You finish up the last of the photos and then allow yourself to quietly sneak out of view. Playing a more minor character is about to work in your favor. It means that you can disappear for a while without anyone really noticing. But you would be absolutely mortified if any of the press catches you doing this.

Your heart races as you run along the quiet hallway, searching for the bathroom that you’d used earlier. You breathe a sigh of relief when you find it and press yourself against the cold brick wall outside of the door. The pull out your phone to check your messages. Tons from your friends, family and followers have wished you luck and sent lovely messages. But none are from Austin.

“You made it. Good.”

You glance up from your screen to see none other than your dirty little secret approaching you. He leans against the wall, positioning his hand near your head. You gulp nervously and crane your neck to peer up at him.

“What did you have in mind?” you tease, knowing full well what he has in mind, but refusing to believe that he would actually be so bold as to do it in public at an event for which he’s the main attraction.

He shrugs, quickly glancing around the hallway before leaning over you. His free hand travels up to cup your face, and he drags a finger down your cheekbone and onto your lips. As his fingertip slides down your skin, it latches onto your bottom lip, pulling it out and then releasing it. You giggle breathlessly, feeling your breathing speed up. His beautiful lips hang open, looking incredibly tasty and so suckable.

Your eyes trace his beautiful Cupid’s bow and you smirk up at him, sticking your neck even further out to reach his lips. You watch his jaw clench as he tilts his head, bringing his lips to brush against yours as you heave shaky breaths from your mouth. You reach out to grasp onto the collar of the black dress shirt, the silk feeling satisfying in your fingers. You try to yank him closer to you, but he resists. He brushes his lips against yours again and you inadvertently whimper, tightening your grip on his shirt. He pulls back, the air between you suddenly filled with a cold breeze. You huff out of frustration and flatten your lips into a hard line.

“Get in the bathroom,” he commands.

You huff again but gather the ends of your dress and enter the women’s bathroom. Once inside, you stand perfectly still, the potential consequences of this decision starting to hit you. The realization that you and Austin haven’t done anything more than make out is also beginning to settle in your gut. You don’t have much time to dwell on it, though, because when Austin bursts into the bathroom, his hands are on you immediately. He grasps the sides of your face and pulls your lips onto his. You reach up to grab his wrists, already feeling breathless.

He walks you back until your ass hits the wide marble-countered row of sinks. His hands slide down your neck, lingering around your throat for just a moment before releasing the pressure and trailing down your shoulders to rest on the outside of your thigh. He grasps your skin tightly through the dress and hoists your legs up and around his waist so that he can slide you back onto the counter. The combination of the smooth marble and the expensive silk of your dress propel your body backward, and you slam into the wall-length mirror mounted above the sinks. As your back makes contact with the glass, your lips break apart and you gasp.

Austin takes that opportunity to reach over with his long arms and slam the door to the bathroom shut before twisting the lock. You lean back against the mirror and you finally have a minute to take in the dripping sensation in your pussy. Austin returns to his position at the edge of the counter and relatches his fingers onto your thighs, pulling you into him. You groan at the contact of your throbbing heat to the hard length you can feel through his pants. You can tell by its firmness that he’s had this erection all night. You giggle at the thought of him trying to hide it.

He smirks, grabbing onto your jaw and smashing his lips against yours. His hand reaches underneath the dress to slide slowly up your thigh, pinching at the skin so hard that you wince into his lips.

You reach down to pull on his belt buckle, jerking him against you harder. You moan when he groans into the kiss. His lips slip off yours and turn to your neck, biting and sucking all over the skin below your jaw. One of your hands travels up his toned frame and into his hair, yanking hard on the golden curls. Austin moans into your neck, and you begin to buck your hips, begging for more contact. Austin pulls back and reaches further up your thigh, latching his fingers around the band to your panties before harshly moving the fabric to the side.

He gently runs a finger up your slick folds. You shudder underneath his touch and grip harder onto his hair. He smirks in response, biting your earlobe and pulling it with his teeth. The combination of his hot breath tickling the inside of your ear and the shot of pain on your lobe makes you throw your head back with a gasp. He runs another finger over your folds and then gently slides one inside. He places his thumb on your clit, circling it while he pumps his finger in and out of you. You wiggle onto his long, slender finger. It’s not enough, you need more.

“More,” you whisper through a breath, in between moans. “I need more.”

“Dirty girl,” he growls, moving straight into three fingers.

He wastes no time, either, slamming his fingers in and out of your folds faster than he was before. You begin to feel the pleasure swell in your stomach, and your hips move against his hands as he returns to assault your neck. He bites onto the skin and pulls it between his teeth. Your hand moves to grab Austin’s shoulder, pulling his hand deeper inside of your soaking wet pussy.

He hits the spot where you need him most, and your head falls back against the glass, projecting your moans into the room. Your free hand deftly unlatches his belt and pushes it out of the way before unbuttoning his pants and sliding into his underwear. You grab onto his length and run your fingers over the dripping tip, feeling the slimy precum leaking out of him. He growls as you begin to pump him.

You gasp for air when his fingers slide out of you and glare down at him. His hair is disheveled, the curls wildly twisting this way and that. He sticks his fingers into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the skin and pulling each finger out with a pop. You bite your lip, moaning quietly at the sight of him sucking your juices down.

“Get down, turn around, bend over,” he orders and you obey, sliding off the counter and turning around.

He approaches you, running his fingers down your sides and onto your ass. Then he crouches to run his fingers up your legs, toward the inside of your thighs and then up onto your ass. He pushes the fabric of your dress out of the way. You shudder under his teasing touch, arching your back to push your ass closer to his hands. You giggle breathlessly as you feel his fingers curl around the waistband to your panties, pulling them down to your ankles. His fingers grip the inside of your thighs and spread your legs.

He runs a soft hand over your ass before spanking it with an open palm. Your body jolts forward and you suck in another breath of air. He leans forward, biting the skin of your ass, before moving to pull his pants down. You watch over your shoulder as his dick springs free and bite your lip at the size of it. He smirks and gives himself a few good pumps before walking toward you. His fingers slide against your folds again, pumping into you. You arch your back in response, letting your top half lean against the counter for support.

“So fucking wet, baby girl,” he hisses. “So fucking wet for me.”

You moan in response and arch your back even more to let him know that you want his dick inside of you now. He understands and immediately pushes into you with no complaints. You whimper, knowing that his full length is stretching out your walls. You wind your waist in a circle around him, gripping at the roots of your own hair to offset the pleasure. He hisses, slapping your ass hard before digging his fingers into the skin. It hurts, and you yelp in pleasure.

He begins to slam into you. Mercilessly. The sounds of moaning and skin hitting skin echo around the hollow room. As your noises bounce off the walls, you suddenly remember that you're in a public place. You feel Austin’s hands circle around to the front of your thighs, gripping onto the skin and pulling your legs against him so that he could fuck you deeper and harder. You scream out as his full length slides in and out of your wet folds with ease. With each thrust, your pussy grows more and more sensitive and the waves of pleasure build higher and higher. Mimicking these feelings, your moans rise higher and higher, sucking the breath out from your stomach and throat.

“Fuck baby you’re taking me so good,” Austin says with a groan.

You moan back in response, unable to speak as your body begins to shiver under his force. At this point, you are hardly moaning and making more of a high-pitched barking sound instead as you approach your peak. Your ass and thighs slam back against his legs with so much force, that you can feel your ribs knocking against the edge of the marble counter. You can already feel your legs burning and beginning to shake under the force of his thrusts. Your knees begin to buckle as you cum, and you grip onto the sides of the counter with white knuckles. You try to steady yourself as your body shakes uncontrollably, tears brimming in your eyes from the stimulation.

“Fuck, Aus…” you groan out as you come down from your orgasm.

You hear his pleasure-filled moans behind you as he pumps himself to completion. Your legs are vibrating with pleasure and you remain still out of fear that you won't ever walk again. Austin's breath is still hot against your skin. The room is full of your panting breaths. Your fingers are white with the pressure of holding so tightly onto the counter, trying to support your body weight. Austin releases you and pulls back to readjust himself and comb through his touseled, sweaty hair.

He smirks with a chuckle and reaches out to grab the end of your chin between his thumb and forefinger. He pinches it and runs his tongue over his teeth and lips before winking. His arms snake around your waist, gently turning you around and pulling you against him. His fingers tangle in your hair, scratching your scalp. You close your eyes at the comfort, humming softly.

“You should clean yourself up, baby girl. I’ll give you a few minutes and then see you out there,” he says in between pants.

He presses his hot, sweaty cheek against yours for a moment and then kisses the outside of your ear before leaving you alone in the bathroom.

You manage to hold yourself up long enough for the door to shut behind Austin, but the moment he vanishes, you feel your shaking muscles give out and you lower yourself down as gently as you can onto the ground in the bathroom. The cold, hard tiles feel good against the hot, swollen skin of your thighs. You lean your head back against the wall and close your eyes, trying to get your breath back to normal. After a few moments of rest, you reach down to pull your panties back up, wincing as you lift your hips and legs to pull the fabric over your ass cheeks.

You grab onto the wall, dragging yourself to stand. As soon as you put pressure on your legs, you groan. Your knees start to buckle and you lower yourself down again. You take a few more deep breaths and try again, working through the soreness this time, although you have to lean heavily on the wall for support. If anyone were to walk into the bathroom at this moment, they probably would ask if you needed an ambulance.

You look like a baby giraffe just learning how to walk, with your knees pointed inward and legs spread out. You gently try to bring your legs together, feeling them shake violently with the pressure of your body weight. Whimpers fly through your mouth as the sore lips of your pussy touch. You waddle over to the sinks, bent at the waist and too afraid to stand up quite yet.

You glance at yourself in the mirror and audibly gasp. Your hair is completely ruined. It looks more like a bird’s nest than a sexy messy updo. Your red lipstick is smudged over the edge of your lips and even down your jaw, onto your neck. You lean forward to touch your lips, immediately clocking how swollen and red they are from the relentless attack of Austin’s teeth and lips sucking and biting the skin.

You reach over the counter to grab at your purse. Thank god Christine, your stylist, has given you access to the lipstick you are wearing tonight. And thank god you always carry a small comb in your bag. You start with the lipstick first, using a damp paper towel to erase as many of the smudged red marks as you can. You also dab at some of the black eyeliner which has turned your undereye into a raccoon's. As carefully and best you can, you reapply the lipstick and brush your eyelashes back into place with your fingertips. Finally, you unclip the ties and bobby pins from your hair to rake the comb through your locks. You’ll never be able to recreate the masterpiece that Christine had, so you use some water to slick your hair back into a ponytail. You're sure that people will wonder why and how your hairstyle miraculously changed halfway through the evening, but you could always pull the “it was hurting my head” routine.

You readjust your dress the best you can, pulling it into place and spinning around to make sure you don’t have any noticeable stains. Glancing once more at yourself in the mirror, you shrug and exit. It’s not gonna get much better than this with the materials you have at your disposal.

You exit out the back door of the building and into the crowded press area to join your castmates. It takes everything in you not to wince as you walk, each step aggravating the soreness in your thighs and crotch. You smile at Olivia as you sidle up next to her and, out of the corner of your eye, you watch as she does a double take.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” she asks, leaning over to whisper into your ear. You nod.

“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just that you were sort of limping as you walked over here,” she replies with a shrug.

Oh yeah…you know it was leg day yesterday and I’m just feeling extra sore. Plus, the heels don’t help.”

You laugh nervously as Olivia’s eyebrow quirks. She sizes you up momentarily before straightening her head to pose for a cast photo. While your concentration is pulled to the side, focused on Baz relaying a story to the press, you feel a familiar warm hand slide around your waist. Austin has joined you.

You immediately feel heat rising into your ears just thinking about what you’ve done. You sheepishly glance over at him. He smirks and winks ever so slightly at you, and you can’t stop the coquettish giggle that escapes your lips.

“You sly bitches,” Olivia whispers. “I knew it wasn’t leg day yesterday.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, eyes wide with horror. You feel Austin’s grip around your waist tense.

“You two seriously have no idea how fucked out you look, do you? Oh don't worry, I won't say anything. But I did have a sneaking suspicion that you were together,” Olivia laughs. She tilts her head to address Austin. “Fucked her that good, did you Austin?”

You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to hide from your own embarrassment as Austin’s face heats up into a bright lobster red.

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