#(also what i did for my third hole) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ihavethedreamies · 3 months ago

Text

Only You | Bang Chan

Bang Chan - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: King! Bang Chan x Noble! AFAB! Reader

Genre: Historical AU!, Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Married

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, First Times (Readers), Breeding Kink (a bit), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Big Dick! Chan (duh)

Summary: You are a nobleman's daughter and your father is struggling to find you a husband. The king refuses to marry all of the women brought to him and will not take any concubines. You end up meeting each other.

Author's Note: Oh boy! Here is the first part my dudes. I wanted to have this out sooner but I'm living with my uncle with my parents right now and so I don't have the same freedom to hole away in my room all day like I would prefer. Also can't really write smut in the living room with your dad like two seats away from you.

At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, most of which are to do with the clothing they wear.

P.S. I only need to write the smut part for Lee Know's and Changbin's parts right now and then I can do the others after. Hopefully I will have one if not both of those up tomorrow. Hopefully.

Also, if any of my historical information/words are inaccurate, I apologize, I did the best with what research I could and what I know from watching too many historical K-Dramas.

-> Series Hub <-

-> Lee Know's <-

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

Sighing deeply for a third time, you lazily turned the page of your book, head tilting to rest on your shoulder. Your braid fell over your shoulder, the purple daenggi draping down and covering the characters in the book. Didn't matter, you weren't really reading it anyway. Already had several times. It was nearly impossible to get books you hadn't already read several times, or things that were actually interesting to you, because your father wouldn't let you get them. Most of the books not directed toward women that you had, you more or less smuggled into your house. Because of that, it was hard to get more, and so you were once again bored with your choices. A delicate breeze wafted in through the open window, a small bird flittering down to rest on the sill. You looked over its various shades of brown feathers and you wondered if you could ever get a book for studying birds. Probably possible, but not probable. Men don't want women that know more than them, that's why you can't keep a suitor. Your father's voice echoed in your head, and you rolled your eyes. Unfortunately, though, it seemed he was right. You had many suitors out of the sons of noblemen, but none of them stayed around too long when your conversations turned from dainty and feminine matters to things that actually made them think. Looking out to the sky, you wondered if there was anyone out there at all that wouldn't mind your learned state.

~~~

On a day you were actually able to go out, you were grateful it was your brother who could go with you. You both were wandering the various seller's stands and storefronts, only just glancing at most things. If you had a guard escorting you, you wouldn't be able to smuggle another book home, but your brother would help you. As you pretended to look over various different earrings, you cast a glance from under your sseugaechima to where your brother was at the book seller. Rummaging through what they had, he held a few up to look closer at the contents before putting them back down. Must all be fiction… Looking back at the wares before you, you nodded to the shopkeeper and moved on, instead looking at some shoes. You were closer then to your brother, enough that you could see when he held a book up toward you, pretending to rest it on his shoulder as he continued looking, like he was reserving it. When you caught his side glance, you shook your head no. Already had it. He sniffed, putting it back, and kept looking. As you moved on yourself, across the way, you watched a young nobleman sidle up next to your brother. He was a great deal shorter; it almost made you giggle, but you tried to remain inconspicuous.

"Oh, my lord, the book you were looking for arrived!" The book seller slipped inside his shop, coming back with a book you had never seen anything like before.

"I managed to get in contact with the Arab trader and he got it here all the way from the far west!" The book seller smiled wide, and you had fully turned around at that point, your brother looking over his shoulder at you.

"Thank you." The man smiled, handing over a significant string of mun before turning to leave. You weren't able to react fast enough, and he caught you looking at him. Well, not him, but the book he was holding. It was bound in what looked like leather and you had never seen writing like it.

"Wait, my lord, this as well!" The shopkeeper reached under his stall and the man went back, taking the locally bound book from him.

"Might be hard to read without the translation." The young lord smiled and then went to leave again, pointedly looking right at you as he did, a small smirk on his face.

"Let's follow him." You whispered to your brother, yanking him down to your level.

"Are you sure? He paid a lot for that, he's not just going to give it to you, and we don't have that kind of money on us."

"I just want to look at it, come on." You hissed out, following after the man before he got too far out of view. You heard your brother sigh dramatically, but he hurried after you anyway, making sure he didn't lose sight of you.

You finally managed to catch up with the man in a small courtyard behind a restaurant not yet open. He was standing at the edge of the stream, watching it, the two books held in his grasp as he rested his arms behind his back. Right as your brother caught up with you, the man turned around, a playful smile on his face. It was then you realized how gorgeous he was.

"Interested in this?" He turned toward you, holding the book up, and in your excitement, you dropped your sseugaechima, the garment fluttering to the ground.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, grabbing the head covering. You had moved so fast, you were already standing in front of the man, ogling the book. Even though he was probably four or even five chon shorter than your brother, he was still nearly a head taller than you.

"Aigo, put this back on." Your brother draped the garment back over your head, dragging you back by the shoulders a few steps.

"Wait!" You reached for the book, not having gotten to touch it, but your brother stepped in front of you. Stupid societal chauvinism.

"Apologies, my lord, but she's…intense about her hobby." You rolled your eyes behind your sibling.

"This isn't a normal book." The other man said, and you rolled your eyes harder. Obviously, that's why you wanted it!

"It's all the way from Dogil." Huh? Where?

"If she wants to look at it, she can." You shoved your brother out of the way, so hard he not just stumbled, but fell on his butt. The man held the book out to you and with shaky hands you took it. The text was so incredibly foreign, and when you flipped the book open, it didn't even look handwritten. Then again, you couldn't be sure since it was such a foreign script. Little symbols sat in the top corner of each page, and the words were horizontal rather than vertical. Each little letter was so small, the book cramped with lines. It was heavy too.

"This goes with it." The other man held the translation book up and snatched it from his hands without thinking.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, hurrying to get off the ground.

"She's fine." You moved toward a bench and sat down, opening the translation on top of the foreign text. Though, it wasn't a direct translation, just a catalog of what each word meant. It would take time to fully translate it.

"C-could I translate it fully?" You looked up at the man, your sseugaechima falling off your head again. He smiled and your heart skipped a beat, but you weren't sure if it was because he smiled, or what the smile meant.

"I would rather not just give it to you. What if you don't give it back?" His tone was slightly teasing. You deflated then and he held back a chuckle.

"You know, I have a lot of far western texts that I don't have the time to translate myself. You could come to my home and do it for me?"

"Wait-" Your brother's tone grew stern and you looked between them, the other man holding his hand up to stop the other's words.

"Rather improper I know. Though, the King can get away with quite a bit." The man was smirking, and your eyes widened. What?

"Y-You're-" You met your brother's gaze and you both fell to your knees before him, bowing so your foreheads touched your hands. Immediately, you realized how brazen your actions were. You were doomed.

"Don't worry about it." He waved you both off and you stood, head still bowed, avoiding looking at his face. Instead, you glanced back at the books. You wondered if the book seller even realized who he was. Your brother sat up, but remained on one knee, if he stood, he would be higher than the king. That was not allowed.

"What is your name? Who is your father?" He asked and you swallowed hard, trying to get words out. You spoke your name and family clan, as well as your father's name and rank. If he told your father about what happened, you would never be allowed to touch another book.

"Your age?

"Twenty-two."

"You're unmarried?" He raised a brow, and you nodded sheepishly. Reaching around your back to tug on the end of your braid, hanging down to signify your marital status.

"Your name?" He nodded to your brother, and he told him.

"Well, if you wouldn't mind showing me to your home. I would like to converse with your father." Oh, no.

~~~

Nervously pacing around your room, even down the halls through the building of the estate you inhabited, you wondered what was happening. You had scurried away like a scared mouse once you all returned to your home, looking behind you to the books held by the King. The King! Geez, you felt like you just escaped with your life. You heard your mother being summoned to go to your father and it had been nearly an hour of them talking.

"(Y/N)." You heard a whisper from outside your bedroom window as you wandered around it. You opened the shutters and your brother's head barely could look over the sill from where he stood on the narrow edge of the building's platform base.

"What's happening?" You whispered back.

"A servant just brought them our family registry."

"What?" Why the heck would they need that?! Unless…

"You think he's going to court me?" Your legs felt week, you weren't sure what to make of it. Your father had desperately wanted you married, but not enough to submit you to the palace. A life of luxury and prestige wasn't actually very safe. Most adversaries tended to target the women closest to the king since they were easier targets. You knew the King was unwed, and that the palace officials were just as fed up with him as your father was with you. Sure, you would rather marry someone for love, but that was hard to do as a noble. But if you did…that meant you could have access to the King's library. Was that his plan to let you translate his foreign books without it being improper? Honestly, you were fine with it. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. If marrying the king gave you access to even more knowledge and learning, than you would happily do it.

~~~

After the long meeting, the King left, and your mother came to inform you of the results. You were right, he wanted you to be his wife. But marrying a king to be the queen was much more intense than just being a concubine. Sure, the king had a lot of say, but so did his ministers and the Queen Dowager, his mother. Normally there was a long selection process, but instead you were brought to the palace and thoroughly analyzed by palace officials. They interviewed you rather extensively, then finally, his mother entered. After more questions, she left with the officials and you were left to sit in the pavilion, looking at the water, uncomfortable in your nicest hanbok ensemble. All of your fanciest accessories were in your hair, on your goreum was a heavy norigae, and heavy jade earrings sat in your ears. You twisted the jade ring on your finger in nervousness, feeling like you were waiting for hours. Soon though, the Queen Dowager reentered along with a few handmaidens and a eunuch. You had been approved of.

~~~

A grand dowry was sent to your family's estate, and in return your belongings were sent in as well. You were moved into a palace set aside for the future queen, and you were beyond grateful that your chest of books made it to your new home. Waiting for the actual ceremony and coronation, you were put through hours of etiquette training and lessons. Over the short time it took for you to learn everything, and have the ceremony and coronation performed, the King had spent a considerable amount of time with you. Every minute he could spare. He didn't want you, nor himself, to marry a stranger. Never having been in love, you were sure your feelings were either quite similar if not the predecessor for love. In a fleeting whisper he told you his name was Chan, of course it was part of his birth name rather than what he was crowned king with. He preferred you call him that though, even if you only could in private. When he could, he would bring a few of his foreign books for you to look at, but he said there wasn't time for you start the translations before all of the ceremonies. Chan seemed just as passionate about knowledge as you were, and that made you fall harder. And it appeared to work that way for him as well.

The day before the wedding, as he left before the time was improper, he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth with his soft lips. Your face blossomed red you were sure, and he chuckled gently to himself as he left.

The wedding itself was…a mess. Well, figuratively and only to you. You felt like you were being directed as a puppet going through so many specific rites and rituals. The most nerve-wracking part of the whole thing was being before so many people. Your tutor was proud you had learned all of your etiquette so well and you were ninety percent sure you did everything just right. By the time night fell, you were beyond exhausted. You weren't sure if you were more excited about your marriage, which felt more real thanks to your blooming feelings, or the future translation work. It was nice though that your love of scholarly pursuits didn't turn him away like all of your other potential suitors.

Finally, though, everything was more or less complete. You were wandering through the large room of the king's quarters, everything even fancier than where you had been. You picked at the white fabric of your sokchima, feeling naked despite being completely covered. Your hair was still in a chignon, the golden decorative binyeo holding it up made your head feel heavy. It was strange to have your hair up like that, but you were going to have to get used to it. For some reason, it felt nice to have that weight, signifying you were married, you honestly didn't want to take it out as much as you did. So, it stayed. You had bathed, rather, been washed by maids before going to the king's quarters. You presumed he too was washing up, and the longer he took, the more nervous you got. Finally, the side door that led further into the palace where the bath hall was, opened. Your heart thudded against your rib cage as you saw the King enter, also in white garments. He no longer had his headdress on, only the manggeon he wore under his crown was there. You wondered how long his hair was when down.

"My Queen." He smiled and you bit your lip, looking around almost like you were checking to see if anyone was around.

"What are you looking for, (Y/N)?" He stepped closer, hand going to your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. All the lessons that had been drilled into you made you want to look away, but if he was okay with it…

"We're really alone?" Not even his Eunuch was there, he followed him everywhere as per his job description.

"Yes, my love." Your breath hitched, the term of affection hitting your heart, and you stepped just a bit closer.

"W-we-" He stepped once more, his lips placing a delicate peck on your forehead. Still not able to get any words out, his kisses moved to your cheekbone, the side of your mouth, then his hand cupped your jaw, tipping your head up. Your eyes met his and you couldn't keep yours from flitting to his lips. Chan smirked, and you gasped as he kissed you, hard. Your teeth clacked against each other at the force and your head swam, trying desperately to match his pace. You hadn't been kissed before, not like that. Chan himself had given you a few small pecks, but this was different. He was claiming you.

His strong hands gripped your waist, one sneaking down your back to pull you closer, the other sneaking up the ties of your sokchima. The hand on your back went even lower, gripping the flesh of your butt and you huffed, Chan's tongue sneaking its way in your mouth. When he withdrew, you heaved in breaths, heart racing and with a final tug, your sokchima fell to the floor, leaving you bare. You shivered, goosebumps rising on your skin, but his next actions distracted you from the embarrassment of being bare. He undid the ties of his own garments and as the white fabric pooled at his feet, your eyes rapidly danced over him. You were convinced he was molded directly by the deity of sex, because he was gorgeous.

"Oh." You sighed and he huffed a laugh, moving closer, taking your hands in his, and bringing them to the ties of his sokbaji. Your hands brushed over him through the cloth, and you froze.

"A-are you…?"

"No, love. But," his hands ran over the bare skin of your back, pulling you to him, your naked breasts pressing to him.

"I'll get there." Chan whispered in your ear, then he ran his tongue around the ridge, sucking on your earlobe. You whimpered, turning your head to allow him access, fingers clenching the hem on his pants. His lips then moved to your neck, laying searing kisses on the flesh, strong fingers digging into your skin, and when you were pulled even closer, you felt his cock hardening in his pants.

"Come with me, my love." He pulled away and you pouted in disappointment, making him laugh. The room spun as he yanked you to him, lightly shoving you on the raised bed. You huffed, then squeaked when he grabbed your ankles, yanking to the edge of the platform, kneeling on the floor below.

"W-Wait, Chan-!" You tried to close your legs, hide yourself from him, but he was too strong, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread.

"So cute." He hummed and your entire body jerked, back arching as you felt his tongue swipe through your folds, the sensation almost overwhelming. It was hard to get words out since you could barely take in air, your body immediately catching on fire, blood boiling. You heard him hum as he tasted you, and you flinched when his nose brushed your clit.

"C-Chan, it's too much!" You shuddered, not sure how to handle the sensation.

"I need to get you ready, love, I don't want to hurt you." He finished his statement by wiggling his tongue inside you. The foreign sensation made you clench, and he rubbed your tense thighs with his thumbs.

"Relax, pretty girl." You tried to do as he asked, taking measured breaths, whimpering when his tongue left you, flicking your button again. Heat pooled in your belly, rising fast and you logically knew what was coming, but had never felt it before.

"I-I…fuck!" Your head tossed back, and he groaned at the crass word leaving you. Chan kissed your clit and that sent you over the edge, wind roaring in your ears with your pulse, and you barely registered him filling you with a finger.

"You're so fucking tight sweetheart." The curse word riled you up more than it even did when you said it for him. He helped your ride out the orgasm with that finger, each press against your back wall seeming to draw out your climax. Finally, the waves dulled, then stopped, and you finally recognized his finger inside you. Because he did it when he did, it didn't hurt, but it felt weird.

"Oh, you're so good." He smiled wide, his normal warn grin was hot with lust. You mewled when he started to pump his finger, the wet squelch of your slick and release seemed to be louder than anything else.

"That got you nice and wet for me, but you're too tight." His thumb barely brushed your clit and your pussy clenched, body jerking again, it almost hurt.

"Sorry, love." He continued with the single digit and at some point, he decided to continue and you let out a shuddering breath when he added a second. That…didn't hurt per se, the slight burn of the stretch was somehow more pleasurable than painful, and you wondered how much his dick would make you sting.

"Oh, oh my." You tried to hold back a whiny moan when his fingers wiggled and spread, getting you further prepared, the same pleasurable feeling starting to build back.

"Ah!" Chan added a third finger, and you lifted your head to look at him, one knee resting on the bed so he could kneel over you. Eyes flitting down, you noticed the tent in his white pants, and you swallowed hard. You didn't have any metric to go by since you had never been with or even seen a man naked, but-

"That won't fit." You whimpered, not even seeing him bare yet. Chan huffed a surprised laugh, looking at himself.

"I promise it will." His fingers crooked up again, hitting some intense spot inside you and you shivered at the sudden intensity.

"N-no, no, no!" You whined when he removed his fingers, the pleasure had begun to crest and even if it was overwhelming, it did feel good.

"Hold on, love, I'll fill you back up." You propped on your elbows to watch him, the tie of his sokbaji coming undone by his fingers, then the garment fell. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen.

"Won't fit." You gasped out and he had a hard time controlling his smug grin.

"Let's see about that." He scooped you up in his arms, moving you up the bed so your head could rest on the pillow. The cool silk of the bedding did nothing to quell the fire Chan had set on your skin, especially not when he propped himself over you.

"I love you." He leaned down, nose rubbing over yours and you giggled at the innocent gesture.

"I love you too." Your hands cupped his face, and he kissed you again, gentler than the first. Distracting you with the kiss, he hitched one of your knees over his elbow, his free arm bringing his hands back to your slick cunt. His fingers ran through your arousal, then he pumped his fist over his hard cock, bringing the fat head to your entrance. Chan pulled back from the kiss, bringing your hands up to his shoulders.

"Dig your nails in if you have to." You should have taken it as a warning, not really sure what he meant. When his cock breached your core, the heated burn seared through not just your cunt, but all the way through you. Your back arched, and your mouth hung open in a quiet scream. You couldn't tell whether it hurt or was such an intense pleasure your body malfunctioned. His cock pressed deeper, and you could feel his pulse inside you.

"So tight, fuck, hmm, love your just perfect." He groaned, relishing the sting of your nails digging into his skin. After what felt like an eternity, he bottomed out, the head of his dick kissing your womb.

"Y-you're in my throat." You gasped, trying not to clench around him too much, cunt stinging but weeping, a drop of your slick hitting the bedding.

"Does it hurt?" His hand brushed some sweat-dampened strands of hair from your brow, and you shuddered through some breaths.

"I-I don't know." You had never felt anything like it before, obviously, and your brain seemed to be stopping and starting again over and over. He was being so patient, letting you adjust, but he shifted his weight differently, changing the angle slightly and the sting faded, pleasure rising, and you couldn't get words out again. He must have noticed the change in your gummy walls' pulsing, because he grinded into you slightly and, stronger than before, you came.

"Woah." Chan forced himself to breathe through your orgasm, the tight vice of your pussy nearly sending him over the edge and gushes of your slick shined on your skin as well as his. Your vision dotted with stars and your head swam, you finally were able to gasp for air, panting as you returned to reality.

"Are you okay, love?" He stroked your cheek with his thumb, and you held his hand to your face with your own. You nodded, swallowing a buildup of saliva.

"Y-yes, you…you can move."

"Are you sure?"

"Please~!" Your like whimper heightened into a moan as he pulled back just a bit, going slowly back in to make sure it didn't hurt. It didn't. Sure, it felt like he was carving his cock through you, but it was more than good.

"Tell me, sweet, if I hurt you." The next thrust, he pulled back a bit further, and back in harder.

"Please, Chan, you- fuck!" He had picked up the pace just a bit, still going fairly slow, but the stretch of his fat cock was more than enough stimulation.

"D-don't-"

"Don't what, love?"

"Don't…oh, fuck, please, don't stop. Just-!" Your toes curled, throwing your head back, nails digging into the bedding as he pulled out about halfway, then buried inside you hard. He sat up more, slinging your other leg over his elbow as well, rolling his hips against yours. Chan's eyes skated all over you, beautiful and bare below him, and when he got to your face he groaned. Your eyes were hazy, mouth open, drool pooling from the corners of your lips. You had never felt anything even close to the pleasure he was wreaking on you. You couldn't think, and you seemed to lose strength in your body, the crest of another orgasm building.

"Shit- can't hold back anymore love." He grunted and you didn't have enough available thought process to react. He moved his hands to your thighs, pinning your knees up by your shoulders, then he pulled his fat cock out nearly all the way, and started to pound into you. Tears rose in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling, little squeals of delight forced out of you with each thrust and your cunt spasmed. Chan just thundered through your orgasm, not stopping or slowing and your eyes rolled back.

"Fuck, you're just perfect love." He huffed a laugh, "oh, I can't wait to fuck you full!" All you could focus on was the heat of his dick and how much hotter your womb would feel full of his cum.

"Pl-please! Chan, please, fuck!" You gasped, his pace growing unsteady, and he finally fucked as deep as he could, hot ropes of cum filling you and painting your cunt white. Your belly was on fire and a combined glob of both of your releases dripped out from where your bodies met. As Chan panted, looking down at your fucked out state, he smiled.

"You're my wife now, only you."

Daenggi - the ribbon that was tied around a unmarried girl's braid. Sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over their heads. Mun - Joseon Era Korean currency Chon - historical unit of measurement, close to an inch. Dogil - Korean word for Germany, might not be completely accurate for the time. Hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. Goreum - the ties that fastened the top of a hanbok. Norigae - accessories that were tied to the goreum of women's handboks Sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. Binyeo - the long pin that would hold a woman's bun up, mostly used for married women. Manggeon - the mesh-like headband men wore to hold their hair in place. Sokbaji - pants-like under-garment, mostly worn by women actually…

-> Series Hub <-

Master-Master List

Stray Kids Master List

Taglist: @huldrelokken, @estella-novella, @astrobebba, @kayleefriedchicken, @rhonnie23, @cassandramrn, @qwonyoung23, @minghaosimp

704 notes · View notes

tddyhyck · 1 year ago

Text

has never went to oovoo javer

pairings ⇢ uber driver!hyuck x afab!reader

warnings ⇢ strangers???, protected sex (kinda), car sex, thigh riding, fingering, oral (m receiving/slight f receiving), voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation (f), mentions of being high, squirting, lip ring hyuck OFC, also big fat cock hyuck agenda, roleplay

word count ⇢ 4.1k

a/n ⇢ i dreamed this or something i swear, also thank u hua my bestie for letting me talk about this as always 🤭🤭

masterlist

you didn’t take uber’s often, usually opting for carpooling with friends or using public transport, but when you did you always got the same driver. he was pretty nice all of the times you met him, not bothering you with talking unless you started the conversation and even handing you candy after the third time you rode with him.

he was really attractive too, at least from the backseat and from his uber profile picture he seemed to update regularly. he had longish dark hair, plush rosy lips with a pretty silver lip ring, and he wore an insane amount of rings that suited him.

you always wondered if he had some sort of other job or if he was just an uber driver. he seemed like someone who would be in a band or work at a grocery store. there was noi-between. you were nosy but never wanted to pry since he was just your always uber driver.

today was different for you though you had left your friends late so you couldn’t take the bus and your friends were high just like you. so you got on your little uber app and waited to see who it was. it would almost be surprising if it wasn’t haechan, but his face popped up on the app and it made you a little giddy.

you could overthink and let your mind wander to why he was always picking you up and somehow always right around the corner but you didn’t. you liked seeing him with decorated fingers gripping the wheel while he played music you had said you liked.

so you bid your friends goodnight and hurried down the stairs to the front of the building. looking left and right to see if his familiar black suv was pulling up. you waited a minute rocking on your heels and shivering slightly when you finally saw him pulling up flipping his lights to get your attention. you scurry over to his car gripping the handle and sliding into the back seat and fixing your hair with your hands before looking up to see him staring back at you.

“hi,” you mumble, scanning his face to see his lip ring glinting in the car light.

“hi, pretty, how are you?” he responds, lips pulling into a slight smile. you don’t remember what ride he started calling you pretty on but it made you want to giggle and kick your feet.

“high and horny,” you blurt, making him throw his head back laughing. you cover your mouth quickly mortified at your confession. “fuck sorry.”

“you��re good, pretty, just don’t make a mess on my seats,” he winked before turning back around to face the front. you throw your head back to hit the headrest while heat floods your body. from both the embarrassment and the heat between your legs and his little comment didn’t help. you squeezed your legs together, the fabric of your dress riding up as you did.

the drive to your place was about 15 minutes and it was going to be complete and total torture but once you got home you could hole up in your room with a hand between your legs and release the pent-up feelings.

you had forgotten how getting high made your panties insanely wet and your body vibrate. but you remembered now staring at haechan who was tapping his ringed fingers on the steering wheel and letting his tongue swipe his lip before tugging on his lip ring with his teeth. you wondered how that would feel against your hot skin. the cool metal against your thighs while his head was between your legs teasing your cunt.

your legs pressed together again and gripped your knee with your hand. you didn’t realize a whimper had slipped out from your throat as your fingers drifted up your knee to raise the hem of your dress and make the skin of your thigh tingle.

you looked out the window hoping something could distract you from the ache between your legs and the hot guy in the front seat. you never felt his eyes floating to you through the rearview mirror, or the way he scanned you, watching the way your leg bounced and your dress rode up your soft thighs.

he could tell you weren’t being funny with your horny comment. you were on the edge of your seat needing to be touched. he wondered what you thought about maybe him touching you, fingers trailing over your skin making you twitch beneath him. now he was working himself up and letting his mind wander. he shook his head concentrating back on the road instead of your panties peeking out as the dress rose even more.

one little touch won’t hurt, right? just something to press against your pulsing core. you side-eye haechan to see him focusing on the road so you let your hand slide further up your leg. using your nondominant hand hopefully to deter you from flicking your wrist like you liked. each touch feels like something deeper and more intimate than normal, the slide of your fingers before they touch the fabric of your panties has your breath hitching.

the panties feel so soft and delicate and so damp and hot practically dripping in your arousal. your chest was almost heaving when you pressed your fingers against your center. you could feel your clit pulsing under your touch but the pressure of your digits wasn’t enough to relieve it.

haechan was still peeking back at you, gawking when your hand slipped between your legs as you leaned your forehead against the car window, your breath fogging the glass. he could feel his jeans growing tighter when you finally rocked your hips ever so slightly. he wanted to watch you, stare at you while you ground against your hand, but he was driving and he had to get you to your destination safely.

once you started moving you couldn’t stop yourself letting your hips do the work bucking perfectly against your fingers. the hot ache between your legs only felt like it was growing. chasing the relief you knew you would get when you just let yourself have it, legs shaking, the mind-numbing orgasm you craved. but you were in the back of haechan’s car so you stopped moving and huff against the window resting your forehead on the cool glass taking some of the heat from you.

taking a minute to breathe, moving your hand far away from between your legs you try to collect yourself. what the fuck were you doing? trying to get off in the back of an uber like a weird porn intro. then your mind started drifting to porn - no. focus. no dirty nasty porn brain.

“you good?” your eyes almost bulge out of your head. had he seen you? did he know you were getting freaky in his back seat?

“yeah just, yeah,” you mumble, still a little brain foggy. you look up to see him staring back at you in the rearview his eyes are darker but still as sweet as ever.

“your temp okay?” you nod knowing he can see you but still mutter a yes as your head lulls on the headrest.

“there’s a lot of traffic tonight, might take longer than normal,” he mentioned and you groan in response making him smirk to himself. it only made you want to cry. you can’t wait much longer you’re already trying to cum in the car and now there’s traffic. a cruel and unusual world to live in.

“it’ll be okay, baby, i’ll get you home safe,” he says, reaching his hand back to pat your knee. you felt like you were on fire from his pet name switching to baby and the skin-to-skin contact. you wanted him to slide his hand higher and touch you where you needed it.

you pout while you whimper mostly to yourself and grip the hem of your dress now suddenly aware of how it lays almost at your hip exposing so much skin. you don’t even recognize your hands lingering, smoothing over the fabric you relax into the feeling. closing your eyes leaning back and your hands move on their own.

it doesn’t even feel like your hands that are pulling your panties to the side letting the cool air hit your heat. your other hand finally making contact and making you sigh at the touch. your fingers swirling around your pulsing clit collecting the slick that's filled your panties. you can already feel yourself getting close, the touch finally providing what you need.

you don’t notice the boy in the driver's seat staring back at you through the mirror watching the way your face twists and mouth falls open as you flick your wrist. he’s almost drooling seeing your cunt glisten as you bring yourself closer. he watches closely but still flicks his eyes back to the road catching your hole flutter and begging to be filled.

he brings his hand to palm his jeans matching your timing, but he wants you. needs to feel you around him while he fills you up. he can only imagine the way you would wrap around him perfectly. but he can't, he really can't, you're his sweet little frequent rider who gives him the best reviews. but also you’re in his back seat cunt dripping onto his leather seats. what’s a man to do?

your hand isn’t enough so your hips start to buck against your fingers slipping and sliding against your clit and your hole. you want to slip your fingers inside and fill yourself but you need to be fast don’t savor the moment just get off.

suddenly you remember you aren’t so alone and you flutter your eyes open and see him staring back. it makes your breath hitch when you make eye contact through the mirror but you’re in too deep to stop. you almost want to go harder with how his dark eyes stare into you unapologetically looking down at your pussy.

“can you pull over,” you almost whimper and he looks back at you expression flipping between dark to concerned. wondering if you’re going to beat him up or if you want more like he does. but he doesn’t hesitate to go down a side road and find a parking lot for some privacy. he can see your fingers still moving in his peripheral vision.

when he finally pulls in and parks you waste no time unbuckling before leaning forward to tug his sweater and attach your lips to his. he doesn’t wait to reciprocate, pressing hungrily into you. his lips are just as soft as they looked at the cool metal of his piercing had your head spinning.

“is this okay?” you pull back breathing heavily and staring up at him.

“so much more than okay,” he responds, smirking over at you, and you smile back tugging his collar and making him scramble out of his seat clumsily crawling into the back with you making you laugh. you tug him to you again gripping the soft knit of his sweater as your lips find him again.

you push him to sit back but follow his lips keeping you attached to him before straddling his lap. the ripped denim covering his leg is pressing against your core and his hands are kneading your hips over your dress, but you want him closer. you grind into him and whimper into his mouth and his tongue chases your lips lapping up at them.

“more,” you whine and his hands grip your hips tighter, rocking you against his leg.

“so needy,” he breathes, sitting back to look at you with heavy eyes. your eyes are closed but you can feel him staring at you and each move you make. you lift the hem of your dress pulling it up to reveal your panties to him and the source of your moans.

he groans leaning forward to kiss your neck as his hands slide over your exposed flesh. fingers grazing under the waist of your panties, snapping them against your skin. his hands keep you from moving against him as fast as you want to and it’s frustrating but his tongue suckles your neck distracting you.

“slow down, pretty, let me make you feel good,” he whispers against your skin before blowing cool air against your neck, making you shiver.

“need more,” you whimper, but his hands slow you down before stopping you with a pout on your face. he smirks up at you before kissing your lips and turning to lay you back against the seat.

he presses against you, his body encompassing you and you feel him all around. one hand holding himself up on the seat and the other gripping your thigh fingers smoothing the skin as his lips desperately meet yours.

his lips mold to yours and you whimper against him opening your mouth to slip your tongue out sliding over his lips. he chases your tongue sucking it into his mouth. the sucking sounds filling his backseat as your saliva mixes and smears against your mouths. and you love it the messy and needy way he kisses you feels so raw and real.

your breathing is heavy in his mouth and so is his. he releases your lips letting his wet mouth roam down your face to your neck licking against the warm skin and your hands comb through his hair clinging to the strands. he's flipping your dress up again gripping higher on your thigh.

“touch me,” you whine, grabbing his wrist and moving it to graze your panties. you hear and feel him groan, vibrating against your neck making you shiver. he doesn’t hesitate to do what you say, gripping your panties and sliding them down before pulling away to fully remove them.

“fuck you’re soaked,” he moans lifting your soiled panties and swirling them around his finger to tease you.

“shut up,” you groan, covering your face with your hands but your lower half is still completely exposed to him.

“stop you’re fucking cute,” he pulls your hands away staring down at you. “can i keep these?” he smirks, nodding to the panties.

“only if you do something in the next 5 seconds,” you whine at him bucking your hips for something. he just coos down at you teasing your neediness, but he touches you, fingers pressing into your thighs dragging closer to your core. you don’t see him toss your panties into the front seat.

“you’re so fucking needy. can’t believe you were getting off in my backseat.” you mewl at his words you can’t deny it. “so fucking wet.” he whispers fingers touching your cunt and making you twitch. his fingers slide over you collecting the juices dripping out of you before bringing his fingers up in front of his face scissoring them curiously staring at the slick clinging to his digits and it only makes u more embarrassed.

“what’s got you shy? you weren’t shy earlier with your hand down your panties.” he teases before swirling his tongue around his fingers staring right at you while he does it. you try to avoid his eye contact as he tastes you on his digits.

“hmm? what is it, pretty?” you shake your head as he leans closer to you licking at your lips while his spit-covered fingers slip between you and find your core again. your mouth falls open when he uses a finger to fill you up. he watches you intently the way you try to close your mouth and bite your lip but he stops you licking over your mouth distracting you.

“don’t be quiet. let me hear you.” you nod harshly in response, moaning when his finger curls inside of you. you want more, you need more.

“more haechan, please,” you plead looking up at him and bucking your hips against him.

“huh? can't hear you.” you want to roll your eyes but you want him to fill you up more.

“more need more of you please.” you croak louder this time and he doesn’t waste time adding another finger making your legs tremble when his digits immediately curl inside of you. he leans back between your legs watching the way your cunt swallows his fingers. his hand that was holding him up is pressing your thigh backward showing you to him completely.

“so fucking pretty, take it so well yeah?” he coos staring down at you watching the way your mouth is open and fingers slide over your lips. his fingers are moving skillfully inside of you and his thumb swirls over your clit.

“is good. so good,” you manage breath caught in your throat you haven’t felt so good in so long. the pleasure taking over and swirling in your stomach tightening with each thrust.

“yeah, pretty? gonna cum huh?” his words make you cry so close to the edge. “tell me.”

“so close.” you whimper, grabbing his sleeve and tugging him to you. he’s sucking your neck instantly, keeping his hand thrusting into you.

“cum, pretty girl,” he says, and you can’t stop letting the knot in your stomach release as you do. arching into him as he works you through it, releasing on his hand and the seat beneath you. your legs close around him but he doesn’t stop until you're pulling on the hair at his nape.

he pulls away looking down between you dipping his fingers into the mess you made.

“you’re a squirter? cute,” you shake your head and want to melt into the seat. since when are you a squirter? “liar, you made such a mess.” he teases before leaning down to lick over your cunt.

“nuhuh, so much,” you whine, pushing his head away but he just smirks up at you, swirling his tongue lower to collect you on his tongue.

“you just taste so fucking good.”

“wanna taste you,” you say boldly leaning up and catching him off guard. your hands find their way to his belt fiddling with the leather.

“want to be inside you.” he counters, staring back at you gripping your wrist.

“please just-“ he cuts you off with a kiss and releases your wrist letting you unbuckle his belt and quickly tug his zipper. his lips are distracting you but you try to push him backwards to give you room to settle between his legs.

you take his clothed length in your hands and leave wet opened mouth kisses while looking at him to see his reactions. he’s staring down at you, one hand laying over his stomach and the other resting on his thigh. you sit back on your heels pulling his waistband down to let his cock slap against his stomach.

you don’t waste time leaning back down to take him in your mouth. he’s hot and heavy on your tongue and it makes you squeeze your legs together at the idea of him inside of you. you swirl your tongue and take the rest of him in your hands pumping his length.

“so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he whispers, fingers pushing your hair out of your face mainly to see your eyes while you swallow around him. you push your head down to take even more of him hearing him groan and his fingers curl into your scalp.

“take me so well,” he moans, legs shaking beside your head when you moan around him. you want him to fuck your face but you decide not to ask maybe that’s too much for the back seat with your uber driver.

“fuck fuck fuck,” he says trying to push you off of him. you release him with a pop smiling up at him spit sliding down your chin.

“what?” you giggle at him using the back of your hand to swipe at the saliva.

“you’re a fucking minx,” he grins back before dragging you to him to kiss you again. he brings you close to him pulling you onto his lap you whine when you feel his cock against your folds.

“do you have protection?” he asks looking over at you.

“i’m clean but i have some,” you lean back, grabbing your long-forgotten bag.

“i’m clean too but,” he trails off when you lift the packet and tear it open. hurriedly you take it out and slide it down his length making him sigh.

“just fuck my brains out please,” you look at him with doe eyes before kissing him and lifting over his length before pressing it to your hole. you moan in unison as you sink down onto him, filling you up.

“so fucking tight,” he groans as his fingers dig into the skin of your hips. you’re speechless you feel so full and overwhelmed you can barely move just have him inside of you.

“you good?” he asks, grabbing your cheeks to look at him and you nod. “tell me.” he doesn’t demand this time asking softly for you to tell him how you feel.

“so good i can’t think. ‘m so full,” you whimper, falling into his chest and you can almost tell he’s smiling when he soothes over your back and coos at you.

“poor baby,” he coos, thrusting into you. “too much?” you whine and he bucks again. “can't take my fat cock can you?” you shake your head and he thrusts with each word punctuating it.

“ha- chan,” you mewl, lips pressing into his neck. he reaches around you holding you up as he lays you back again. his hair falls in his face as he leans over you thrusting into you deeply. he keeps his pace slow but steady, not letting you miss a single drag of his cock inside of you.

he kisses the side of your open mouth before sitting up between you moving his hands to press your thighs against your chest. he stared down at the way your cunt swallows his length with each thrust completely sucking him in.

“take me so fucking well,” he groans and you feel tears slipping down your face. “letting your little uber driver fuck you such a dirty whore.”

“hyuck,” you whine, slipping from the space.

“who?” he stops his movements staring down at you. you can see he’s trying not to break but his teasing eyes almost give him away.

“haechan, harder,” you whisper, he grins at you following your instructions. deepening each stroke and pushing you into the seat.

“like that, baby?” you nod sloppily and feel the familiar feeling coming back, the sweet release so close you can almost taste it. haechan notices bringing his finger to swirl around your clit.

“pretty baby, gonna cum on my cock?” he moans looking down at you.

“so close,” you whimper back, gripping his arm tighter. he moves his arm from your grasp to lock your fingers together as he plunges into you.

“gonna let your uber driver fuck you and have you a dirty mess in his backseat, huh? little slutty thing just fucking anyone.” his filthy words are all it takes to have you clenching tightly around him mumbling incoherently as you cum. he groans at the way your pussy squeezes around him and grips him so tight.

“cum on me,” you whisper to him, head still full of pleasure but you know he’s close to his own.

“so nasty.” he groans, his hand still holding yours and the other still grips your thigh, bruising the supple flesh. you slip your hand between you pulling the condom off in one motion just as he releases, coating your messy cunt with hot white cum. “fuck.”

he slides his cock against your cunt smearing his cum and letting it mix with yours as you both catch your breath. you look down between your legs watching him grinding his cock against your clit seeing the mess you’d made.

“you’re such a freak.” he chuckles looking up at you, catching you staring.

“shut up,” you whine trying to cover your face again but he doesn’t let you. gripping your wrists and kissing you tenderly.

“we gotta divulge in your little kinks more often baby. you’re so filthy.” you want to look away because it feels like he’s staring through you.

“you’re still my uber driver, remember?” you tease him.

“oh sorry miss, we’re definitely going to have a late arrival.”

“hyuck,” you whine trying to push him away.

“you slipped with that earlier baby, so cute.” he teases again, reaching over to the glove box to grab some napkins.

“it’s hard not calling you that. you’re my hyuck,” you pout at him.

“i know and you’re my filthy slutty whorish girlfriend,” he grins mischievously, but still diligently cleaning you both up.

“and so are you.”

“i’m keeping the panties by the way.”

“like you haven’t already stolen 10 other pairs.” you roll your eyes playfully.

“it’s because i’m disgustingly obsessed with you.”

©️ tddyhyck

#haechan smut #haechan x you #haechan x reader #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct dream x reader #nct 127 smut #haechan x y/n #haechan hard thoughts #haechan hard hours #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck smut

3K notes · View notes

whocaresstillthelouvre · 4 months ago

Text

Wonderwall

Rating: Teen Pairing: No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 4,550 Summary: Your ex boyfriend Simon is marrying Sabrina, the woman he left you for. You were sure you'd have have a date in time for his wedding... too bad you were wrong. Once again. your best friend Maria has to save the day by letting you use her handsome, single brother-in-law that owes her a favor as your date. Warnings: fluff, idk what's going on with me but there's so much fluff, soft joel, fake wedding date, rom com vibes, crying over a broken vibrator, no outbreak, maria and tommy are married, sarah and kevin live, british ex boyfriend, reader and joel are close in age (reader is 36, joel is 40), alcohol, i know the gif is marcus pike but i can't stop seeing young joel in this gif, anyways here's wonderwall, no use of y/n, not beta read

A/N: This was written for @justagalwhowrites' Joel Miller Birthday Celebration. Thank you to the always wonderful @ohheypedrito for suggesting the fake dating trope when I asked her what to write.

Masterlist

Fizzy mimosas, fluffy pancakes, crispy hash browns, and sweet maple syrup. Brunch on Sundays with Maria has been a long standing tradition for the two of you. Fifteen years of friendship kept stronger by always promising to make time for each other no matter what is going on in your lives.

These days, Maria’s raising a toddler while building a very successful career in the Austin district attorney's office whereas last night you cried over your vibrator dying while trying to pull an orgasm out of you for an endorphin rush. God knows you need one.

You’ve been in a hole since the arrival of Simon’s wedding invitation. The man you spent your most youthful and fulfilling years with is now marrying Sabrina, the beautiful co-worker he crashed your relationship for. Yeah, yeah, your twenty year partnership was already headed for the cliff, but her perky tits and pouty lips sure did speed up the demise.

“So, Simon’s wedding is next weekend, how do you feel?” Maria interrogates from across the table.

“Fine!” you stuff a pancake triangle into your mouth. “It’s fine! I’m fine!”

“Mm,” she lifts a skeptical eyebrow. Why do you lie to her? She makes three figures locking away liars, she can spot them a mile away. “Let me guess, you still don’t have a date?”

“Ugh, no, why did I mark two on the RSVP?”

“I told you not to,” Maria shakes her head

“Yeah, but, I-I want to show him I’m doing great without him.”

“Babe,” Maria grabs your hand and squeezes it, “I say this with all the love in my heart… you’re not doing great.”

“I knoooow!” you sigh, closing your eyes. “I just thought… I’d show up in my pretty dress with a hot man on my arm and show Simon I’m happy and fulfilled without his love.”

“But you don’t ha–”

“Please, I know. I just– I’m happy for him in some really odd way but I also want to be… happy for myself.”

“Okay,” she nods before taking a deep breath, “here’s what I’m going to do for you. You know Joel?”

“Your… brother-in-law?”

“Yes, he owes me a favor, soooo, he’s going to be your date,” she sits back folding her arms across her chest with a smug smirk. “He’s handsome as hell and a good man but he’s very quiet and intimidating to those who don’t know him. He’s perfect for this situation.”

You do know Joel… just not very well at all. There have been random run-ins at Miller family parties, but nothing more than a quick “hello” and “how are you?” exchanged between the two of you. He seems the opposite of your Dartmouth educated, polo playing yuppie of an ex. “Yoo hoo,” Maria waves her hand in front of your face catching your attention. “Does that work for you?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah, I think… it does,” a relieved smile lifts your face.

Maria has, once again, fixed your problem.

—-

RING… RING… RING…

Your fingers nervously tap against the countertop. “Come on, pick uuup, pick uuuup, pick uuu–”

“Miller,” a deep voice answers.

“H-Hi, uh, Joel?” You feel a third your age, like you’re right back in middle school calling the cute boy in your science class because your friend dared you.

“Speaking.”

“Hey, uh, you’re my wedding date? Maria… she gave me your number so we can plan?”

“Oh, yes,” his voice softens. “Saturday, right?”

“Yeah, uh… I think it might be good to go over a story for us before the big day.”

“Right,” he chuckles, “I’m all ears.”

—-

Your eyes roam down your notes from the call. “So, we formally met at Kevin’s graduation party. I call you ‘honey’, our first date was to a movie and then to pizza. We’ve been together for a little over a year. You hate sushi and love tamales. You don’t like water slides. You play the guitar. You have a daughter named Sarah who’s a senior in high school. You own a construction company with Tommy… I think that’s about right?”

"Believe so," the bass of his quiet voice causes goosebumps to pebble your skin. If he's doing this to you over the phone, what will the wedding be like?

"Okay," you settle against your sofa, "and for me?"

Papers shuffle before Joel clears his throat. “Hm, okay. I asked Tommy for your number after Kevin’s graduation party. You work at an insurance company, but you dream of owning your own bookstore one day. You love mashed potatoes. I call you 'baby.' Your favorite color is bronze. You’re a night owl forced to be an early bird. You love Taylor Swift unapologetically. You like staying over at my home because your favorite coffee place delivers to my house.”

“Perfect. I know this is totally weird and all, but, thanks for doing this. Sometimes I allow my pride to sabotage me... and Maria has to come in and save me.”

“She’s good at that.”

“Thanks again Joel.”

“You’re welcome,” his voice feels you with warmth. “I’ll pick you up on Saturday.”

“Yes, Saturday. Until then, have a good week.”

“You too.”

After saying goodbye, you hang up with a plume of butterflies in your stomach.

—

“Okay! Get ready!” you shout from behind your bathroom door.

Your Sunday brunch date with Maria has been moved up to a Saturday afternoon primping and preening spree in your home as she helps you get ready to watch the once love of your life marry someone else.

You step out of the bathroom to find Maria sitting cross-legged on your bed. As soon as she sees you, she leans forward with wide eyes.

"Wow," she breathes, her voice filled with awe. "I mean, seriously, wow."

"Really?" you ask, giving a twirl in your mauve dress, adorned with a delicate print of sequined flowers blooming across the bodice.

“Really,” her eyebrow angles as she nods, “I can’t wait for Miller to have to deal with keeping his cool around you.”

“What?”

Maria just smiles, “Let’s just say, you look hot, that’s all I’m going to say.”

___

A shiny black truck pulls into your driveway. Panic jolts through you as you watch the door swing open from your front window. Out steps Joel Miller, impeccably dressed in a black suit. Oh good lord–he’s your date. Like, date date, as in the guy you’re going to be spending the rest of the night with. The anxiety over Simon and Sabrina’s wedding fades into the background, replaced by the overwhelming challenge of maintaining your composure in the presence of someone who looks that stunning in a tuxedo.

The doorbell rings.

Okay, okay, you got this.

A gust of pleasant autumn air hits your skin when you open the door. Oh good LORD, he looks incredible. His hair is longer than you remember, falling in gentle waves you dream of running your fingers through. His beard is neatly trimmed, though slightly patchy with a strong mustache that frames his plush lips. He has a shy smile, his dimple makes a divot you want to press your finger into. His simple black suit stretches around his obviously toned and broad shoulders.

“Hi, it’s uh, nice to see you again. Come on in,” you say, opening the door wider and stepping aside.

“Course,” he replies, striding in past you. His hand twitches nervously when he turns and takes how you look fully in. “You look– y’look beautiful.”

A flush of warmth spreads through you at the compliment from the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, now standing in the middle of your living room.

“Oh, thanks, uh, it’s not every day your ex boyfriend of twenty years gets married to the woman he left you for… so I guess I needed to show off.”

“It’s–yeah–good,” he stammers, his eyes darting around the room, clearly avoiding your gaze.

“Well, uh, I just need to slip on my shoes and grab my bag, then we can get going. Make yourself at home.”

“Sure thing.”

As you head down the hall to get your things, you hear him let out a long sigh.

Don’t worry dude, I get it. It’s going to be a long night.

“So, um, I know, this is awkward,” you say, returning to the living room and dropping your shoes on the floor, “but I’m really grateful to you.”

He chuckles, sitting on the edge of your couch. “S’alright. I can’t say no to a free meal and open bar.”

“If I still know Simon’s taste, it’ll be a top-notch open bar too,” you muse, slipping into your high heel and bending over to fasten the buckle.

You glance up when you hear Joel’s breath catch. He’s staring intently at you–more specifically, at your exposed leg and thigh, courtesy of the high slit in your dress.

You really had to pick the dress that Maria dubbed “the revenge dress,” didn’t you? He clears his throat and quickly averts his gaze, but the charged atmosphere lingers. You try to ignore it, buckle your other shoe and grab your clutch.

“Ready?” you ask.

“I am," he replies, standing up and adjusting his neck tie, a hint of color warms his cheeks. .

—-

Joel’s truck looks quite out of place pulling into the Hurts Family’s grand estate. Of course Simon’s getting married at Father & Mother’s sprawling manor. You can’t help but wonder if the altar and ceremony will be located in the same conservatory you and Simon lost your virginity to each other in.

The whole drive over, you and Joel practiced your spiels, all the while you tried to ignore the waves of attraction that vibrated between you and him in the small cab of his truck.

He pulls up to the valet and reluctantly hands his keys over to the college aged kid before hurrying over to your door, cutting in front of the doorman to help you down. What a gentleman.

Soft violin music floats through the air and white flower petals line the walkway leading into the massive estate that once felt like your second home. A nagging thought lingers in the back of your mind that you’re about to live what should’ve been your wedding day.

You breathe out deeply, Joel grabs your hand as he guides you into the house.

People mingle, some you don’t know, many you do. Aunt Billie, Uncle Martin, the cousins from Manchester, Simon’s favorite professor. Familiar faces surround you, what the hell were you thinking this would be okay?

You’ve known this home since you were twelve, Simon showed up in your seventh grade algebra class, a new student with bright blue eyes and blonde hair, you thought he was the prettiest boy you had ever seen, even before he spoke… the British accent would’ve been enough to sweep you off your feet. It took a couple years of friendship before you both admitted your crushes on each other, the confessions happened in the movie room, just down the hallway you stand near.

Love is fleeting, love is hopeless. You’ve learned to care for yourself like Simon once cared for you, but now in this home you used to sneak into, you feel just as alone as you did the day you moved out of the house you shared with him for a decade just two streets down from here.

“Hey, you okay?” Joel leans in and whispers. “Squeezin’ my hand mighty hard.”

“Oh,” you blink, refocusing on him, “I am, it’s just… really bizarre and everything. Seeing so many familiar people I haven't seen in years feels strange.”

“You’re doing good, I got you,” he says, letting go of your hand, and wrapping his arm around your waist, guiding you farther into the mansion.

___

The impressive altar stands in the conservatory–you know your ex well– this windowed dwelling means everything to him. Everywhere you look, peach and champagne flowers are nestled among lush green foliage. You and Joel settle eight rows back on the groom's side, just a few feet from the bench you lost your virginity on. Jamie, Simon’s friend from college, sends you a kind smile when you sit next to him.

Your foot taps nervously against the stone tile, keeping rhythm with the soft string music lilting through the air. You take a deep breath to center yourself as the processional begins. The family minister you’ve known since you were fifteen leads the way then–Simon. Still just as handsome, in that specific pretty way that drew you to him as a teenager. The slight waves of his dark blonde hair are more controlled and slicked back. His slender body is topped by wide shoulders from all his years of playing polo. His equally handsome brother Liam follows, along with a handful of friends you used to consider your own.

Joel’s arm wraps around you as Simon takes his place at the altar, his fingers resting firmly on your bare shoulder just in time for the bridal procession to begin. Everybody takes their rightful places waiting for the bride. Simon stands at the altar, laser focused on the doorway, oddly, you feel a sense of happiness for him. Maybe you feel less lonely with the comfort of Joel’s strong arm around you, maybe you’re just caught up in the emotions of the day.

As you expected, Lia and Ewan, Simon’s niece and nephew, are the ring bearer and flower girl. You were at the hospital when both of them were born. You taught both of them how to swim. They used to call you their aunt.

The small orchestra begins playing “The Wedding March,” the audience stands in anticipation of Sabrina’s entrance. The curtains part and she appears shimmering down the aisle in her ivory dress. Okay, you have to admit, she looks gorgeous. Joel pulls you closer, his hand rests against your hip as Sabrina and her father pass your row. You’re grateful for his presence, even if it’s just a comforting distraction that just happens to be pretend.

The look on Simon’s face is unmistakable when he takes Sabrina’s hand–it’s the same look he would give you whenever he told you loved you all those thousands upon thousands of times.

You take your seat, Joel’s hand finds your shoulder once more. It’s going to be damn hard to concentrate on the ceremony.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today.

—

You survive the ceremony… thanks to Joel and his calloused hand rubbing circles on your shoulder. As Simon and Sabrina lead the recessional out of the conservatory, Simon spots you and sends you a knowing wink and smile when he spots Joel next to you. Maybe it’s a good thing you attended, it’s the final picket placed in the closure fence.

“You good?” Joel whispers in your ear while watching the rest of the party leave. You turn to respond, failing to realize his face is now right next to yours. His lips now sit a breath away from yours. Panic slips in, overwhelmed by the thought of anyone catching an awkward moment like this, especially since you’re the ex girlfriend the groom left for his brand new bride.

Fuck it. You lean forward and place your lips against his, leaving a delicate peck against them. At least now you’ll have this moment that’s just for you.

—

The warm autumn sun is beginning to set casting the preened and pristine gardens of the Hurts Estate in amber tones. Thank god for the cocktail hour and open bar.

You sip your champagne and smile at a few familiar faces while gazing out upon the vast lawns you used to spend lazy days sunbathing and playing croquet on. What a bizarre homecoming of sorts. Joel is taking his role seriously, constantly checking on you and never leaving your side.

A familiar voice calls your name, pulling you from your reverie.

“Oh sweetheart! It’s so lovely to see you!” Simon’s mother, Adeline, greets you with kisses on both cheeks before pulling you into a warm hug. You’ve always liked the woman and she always adored you. She turns to your date, her eyes lighting up when she looks Joel up and down.

“Addy, this is my boyfriend Joel.” A rush of excitement is sent through you at the simple introduction. “Joel, this is Simon’s mom, Adeline.”

“Good evening ma’am,” Joel says, extending his hand to shake hers gently. “It’s quite beautiful here.”

“Oh, thank you! Aside from our two boys, this is our pride and joy. There’s nothing better than seeing your child get married in the place you call home.” .

“Well, I’ve heard a lot of nice things about this place, you have a lot of good memories here, right baby?” Joel looks at you with an affectionate smile. Oh he’s good.

“I do,” you smile warmly at Addy.

“Oh sweetheart! That makes me so happy! You’re always welcome here, I’m so happy Simon invited you!”

“I am too, it’s so nice to see you,” you say, realizing how much you truly miss her. You spent twenty years of your life around so many of these people before being cut off cold turkey from them.

“Shoot! I better keep moving and making my rounds! Do enjoy the bar, and make sure tell them Addy sent you; they’ll give you the real good stuff. Joel, are you a whiskey man?”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel replies with a nod.

“We’ve got some Old Rip Van Winkle, aged 25 years. Just tell them Adeline insists and they’ll pour you a glass.”

“Thank you ma’am,” Joel says gratefully.

“Oh, I like him darling!” Addy winks before turning to leave, her gold dress gleaming just as bright as her personality.

—

The large tent erected for the ceremony glows in pink and orange hues. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling overflowing with roses and garlands. It’s gorgeous and opulent everywhere you look.

You’ve been nervous about your table assignment since you sent in your RSVP. Who will you be stuck with? You prayed it would be strangers versus people you used to call friends. You thank your lucky stars when you’re led to table eleven, where you’re greeted warmly by strangers. You tell your new tablemates you’re an old friend of Simon’s, Joel grabs your hand and gently holds it while you introduce yourselves, shocked you still haven’t had to utilize the stories you and him invented.

Ladies and gentlemen! Please welcome for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Simon Hurts!

The two lovebirds make their grand entrance, glowing and grinning in their newlywed aura before the symphonic melody of “Can’t Help Falling In Love” begins to play. Hilarious, the last time you heard this song it was on a playlist Sabrina had made for Simon… a couple weeks before your ultimate separation. You got into a fight over the amount of times he’d play it, he told you were overreacting and being dramatic, you should’ve trusted your instincts right then and there.

They look so happy and gorgeous together, dancing their first dance surrounded by all of their loved ones inside this picturesque setting. It should’ve been you…

Joel leans in closer, wrapping his arm around you, stealing your attention from your spiraling thoughts. “I can’t play this song on violin or cello, but I can play it on guitar, maybe I can play it for you sometime.”

You look up at him, your eyes locking with his, “I–I’d like that.”

“Thought you would,” he smirks, before leaning down to place a tender kiss on your forehead.

He’s been touching you all night, always considerate and tender, as if he holds an actual amount of reverence in his heart for you. God, he’s either the sweetest man to ever live, or he should give up the construction job, move to Hollywood and start acting.

—

Simon and Sabrina make their rounds after dinner, they’re a table away laughing and galavanting with friends you used to call your own. It’s been over a year since you last spoke to him and now as the ultimate final thing you’ve been dreading is near, you’re nervous as hell. Joel casually drapes his arm around the back of your chair before leaning forward and pressing his lips to the top of your head, helping subside some of your anxieties.

“You good?” he checks in with a soft whisper.

You nod, scooting closer into the shell he’s created for you with his large body.

Simon catches your eye with a warm, gentle smile as he leads Sabrina over to your table. You can’t be too mad at him, he’s been nothing but a gentleman since he forced the end of your already faltering relationship. Sabrina, well–she was just a better match for him. You wish them well, no matter how much it still seemingly hurts. You just want Simon to miss you a little bit.

The newlyweds greet the rest of the table, collecting well-wishes and flattery from the guests before turning their attention to you and Joel.

Simon bends forward and gives you a tight hug before thanking you and saying how lovely it is to see you. Sabrina says hello, you tell her she looks beautiful, she returns the favor.

Simon extends his hand to Joel and introduces himself. “I’m Simon, I’m sure you’ve heard a bit about me–hopefully some good,” he says, his ever present British charm helps cut through the tension radiating off of Joel’s gruff reservedness.

“She has,” Joel replies, shaking Simon’s hand. “I’m Joel. Nice to meet you both. Congrats. S’been a lovely wedding.”

The four of you make casual conversation. Joel mentions he’s a contractor, Simon’s eyes light up before he mentions how he wants to build a pool house. Your heart twinges a bit when you remember it’s all for pretend and there’s no way Joel could take the job. Joel makes a joke about how dinner was better than a No. 5 from Whataburger, eliciting a ruckus laugh from the newlyweds. You feel good, until the sinking feeling inside rears its ugly head and reminds you this is all a sham.

Sabrina nods to Simon in an unspoken understanding that they need to move on with their greetings. Joel wishes them well and thanks them for the lovely party. You smile and do the same.

“It’s good to see you happy,” Simon says as he gives you a parting hug.

If only he knew…

You’re quiet as you watch Simon and Sabrina walk away, Simon’s hand is placed on Sabrina’s back lightly stroking up and down. Joel softly says your name, breaking your concentration on the happy married couple.

“I like this song, let’s dance,” he says, rising and extending his hand to you.

“Wonderwall?” you ask, taking his hand and letting him lead you to the dance floor. “Let me guess, you can play it on guitar.”

“I do,” he confirms with a smile, pulling you close against his body. His large hand splays against your lower back, and yours finds its place on his firm shoulder. The wedding band has slowed the song down, couples gently sway around you. The twinkling lights above reflect in Joel’s dark brown eyes. You can’t stop looking at him, he can’t stop looking at you. The moment is intimate, to any other wedding guest, you look like a couple just as in love as the newlyweds.

You rest your head against his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne–woodsy, smoky, with a hint of cinnamon. His thumb strokes against the skin of your hand as your bodies synchronistically move together. This doesn't feel like pretending at all.

The song ends, Joel makes no move to pull away, and you don’t either. The first notes of the next song begin and you recognize the drumbeat anywhere. You can’t believe you’re hearing it here, of all places.

“We can leave the Christmas lights up till January…”

“Ohh,” you let out a soft sigh against Joel’s chest, feeling your heart drop. “This was going to be our first dance song, I-I told him it as soon as I first heard it all those years ago.”

Joel tilts his head down, his concerned brown eyes peer into yours. “M’sorry, did you want to stop?”

“No, no, it’s–I can’t leave the floor during this. What if he sees me?”

Joel nods reassuringly before tightening his hold on you and pulling your joined hands in closer. His head rests on top of yours engulfing you with his broad body, like your own personal fake wedding date security blanket.

Your heartbreak slowly dissipates, mended by the gentle touch and attention of Joel. The song ends, he asks if you want to get a breath of fresh air, you gratefully nod before taking his hand and telling him you know a place.

—

The breeze rolling off the lake sends a chill across your skin, Joel takes notice, quickly removing his jacket and places it over your shoulders without hesitation.

“Thanks,” you say, sinking into the leftover warmth of Joel.

“No problem,” he says, shuffling his neck tie open and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his crisp white dress shirt. “I’m burnin’ up under it.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence as you watch the tranquil waves lap at the shore. “Sorry about earlier. It was just… a shock to hear that song. He moved on so quickly and I feel like I’ve just been left wondering how I can so easily be… replaced.”

“No need to apologize,” he sighs, “I’m not good at any of this stuff, but, you don’t seem like someone that’s so… easy to get over.”

Your heart skips a beat when you look over at him. The soft ambient glow of the full moon reflecting off the water bathes him in an almost ethereal glow, making him look like a knight in shining armor who walked through a portal to help save you from your own wounded heart you’ve been trying to heal for the past two years.

“Guess you just don’t know me very well then,” you joke, trying to slow down the thoughts racing within your heart and mind.

“No, but I think I’d like to,” he says, turning to you with a sincere look in his eyes.

“I-I’d like that too.”

Joel hesitates for a moment before asking, “There’s a new Curtis & Viper movie releasing next week. Did you want to go with me?”

“Like a real date?” you ask, your voice tinged with excitement.

“Suppose it would be. We could recreate our ‘first’ date that we told that one aunt of Simon’s all about. We’ll get pizza at the place across the street.”

“I’d love that,” you say, your excitement clear in your voice.

From across the yard, you can just make out the sound of the band playing for the wedding guests.

Joel takes a deep breath and turns to you with a warm, playful smile. “I feel better asking you here so you know I’m being for real. I really want to dance with you. May I have this dance?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you reply, a smile spreading across your face as he pulls you closer.

You remind yourself to send Maria a bouquet of flowers for setting up your fake wedding date as you settle into his embrace.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel x reader #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #tlou joel #no outbreak!joel miller

371 notes · View notes

kentoxo · 1 month ago

Text

friction | reader (f) x crush!nanami pt. 10

pairing: reader (f) x crush!nanami

synopsis: [AU] you have always had a crush on nanami. since the day you were hired as his personal assistant, you've been right at his side combating numbers and making money within the finance department for the company you two worked for. but, things take a turn when nanami catches wind of your feelings, and rejects you. little did he know the weight of his mistake.

warnings: angst, heartbreak, sexual tension, jealousy (future smut)

a/n: wow here's me with a fast part out! im already working on part 11 so don't you worry! i believe i tagged everyone who requested to, but pls feel free to yell at me in my askbox if i missed you! next chapter is gonna be... fun ;) just wanna say, your replies/reactions/reblogs make my heart sing and it makes me smile lots

all parts: pt.1, pt.2, pt.3, pt.4, pt.5, pt.6, pt.7, pt.8, pt.9,

December | Tokyo, Japan | Sunday

You woke up to the sounds of coughing and beeping.

The subtle creaks of wheels being rolled, with voices left and right, both tones of urgency and concern. Through your blurred image, you knew for a fact you were no longer home. Lights brighter than the moon blinded you from above. You decide to use your hands to give you context, feeling this holed yet weighted blanket covering your body. As you moved, you felt wires tickle your arms, with some tugging from restriction.

“What…” you murmur to yourself, groaning in pain. The moment you shifted for comfort was when you realized you were in the hospital. Gurneys are as unforgeable to your back as spikes, and even then you’d probably respect the spikes more. They don’t pretend to not be uncomfortable. Finally rubbing your eyes, you look around, finding Nanami right beside you, eyeing your drip that was overhead you. “Nana…?”

It was almost consequential whenever you said his name. Once he hears your voice, those enticing hazel eyes find their way to burn into your own. Although you felt much better, the sudden pressure of his gaze forced a few coughs out of you. Seeing this, Nanami quickly held your forearm, his expression dressed with concern.

“Are you still feeling unwell?” Nanami asks quickly. “Should I call for a nurse?”

You shake your head, waving your free hand weakly, “I feel fine, please.” You begin to adjust yourself to sit up, noticing as Nanami stood up in order to hold you by your elbows. Rough, calloused hands delicately assist you as you sit yourself up. The faint, nauseating feeling you had prior to going unconscious vanished. “Thank you,” you murmur, quietly clearing your throat which was in long desire for some hydration.

“Ah, here.” Nanami reached over for a water bottle by the provided table, snapping the cap open while slowly passing it to you. You grab the bottle from him and begin to down it, the cooling relief surfing down your throat. Few streams of water escape from your lips, feeling the cold sensation go down your jaw and neck. But, it is kindly wiped away from a napkin, as Nanami dabs it dry. “Don’t drink so hastily, Y/N. You’re not in a rush anywhere, are you?”

“Yes I am,” you hiss after finishing half the water. “I need to go home. Now.”

“Y/N, you’re running a 39.4°C (103°F) fever, and you were incredibly dehydrated,” Nanami says in a ‘matter-of-fact’ tone. He tugs carefully at your IV drip, “this is your third bag.”

You cross your arms over your chest and look away with a stubborn hmph. As you distantly looked towards the window and into the Tokyo night, you realized immediately that Nanami brought you to the hospital. Meaning, he was there when you passed out. Also meaning that… his confession may have been part of your fever. Perhaps the delusion of his confession may have just been a dream. Or a sweet nightmare.

“What happened?” You pondered quietly, anticipating that he’d answer your indirect question.

“You fainted,” Nanami answered curtly. Go figure. “So I brought you to the hospital immediately.”

You look over at him, seeing the earnesty in his face. You sucked your teeth mentally, knowing you couldn’t get mad at him over this. “Well… thank you, Nanami kacho. I’m really sorry for the trouble as well.”

Nanami shakes his head, “it’s absolutely no trouble. ‘M just glad you’re awake and well. The doctors were able to calm down that fever pretty quickly, and they simply said you needed more water and rest.”

You nod slowly, “work has been doing a number on me. I might schedule a vacation after the holiday, if that’s alright with you, kacho.”

Nanami, through an annoyed sigh from how you’re addressing him, gives a reluctant nod, “you’ve been working hard this last year. Consider it approved.”

“Thank you,” you let out.

After a moment of silence, Nanami leans forward in his chair, anxious thumbs twiddling around one another. “Y/N, if I may ask… do you remember anything prior to you going unconscious?”

You stare at him pensively, trying to recall memories in his brown eyes. “I remember you coming over with vegetables,” you begin, “and then you were making me soup– oh my god, the soup! Did you–!”

“It’s completely off, don’t worry,” Nanami reassures you. You quickly hold your chest, the sudden panic making your heart go off. “Anything else?”

He was trying to itch it out of you. “I believe that was it,” you say quickly, “everything else… I think it was just in my head.”

“Like a dream?” Nanami continues.

You nod, “it must have been. The last thing I remember is us on the couch, and you telling me something…” Your cheeks go warm again.

Nanami’s eyes narrow on your expression, curious as to what caused it. “Do you remember what I said?”

Your eyes dart at him, your nerves collecting. You had much more energy than before, sure, but that doesn’t neglect how lightheaded you were from everything. “Um,” you hesitate. You didn’t want to bring it up and embarrass yourself more than you already have. First 2 rejections, and now having to recount something that you were very confident did not happen. “Well, in my mind… I think you were trying to confess to me.”

Nanami nods, “I wasn’t trying to; I did.”

You blink a few times, your mind going blank. Mindlessly, you pinched your forearm, letting out a pained hiss. Nanami quickly holds your damage-dealing hand and looks at you puzzled. “Sorry,” you begin quietly, “I sort of lost my mind there. Sorry to ask you to repeat yourself, but can you say that one more time for me?”

“You were not dreaming, Y/N,” Nanami says forwardly, “I like you.”

The words were golden, but they didn’t reflect with that metallic shine. Your heart jumped for joy, but it was tied down with light weights. This confession, his words… it didn’t quite feel right. Not that you have experience being confessed to, but this didn’t feel like in the dramas you binged at 1 A.M.

You squint at him, skepticism drowning the air. You adjust yourself, facing him as best as you could with the most serious look on your face. Even Nanami looked surprised at your sudden change. “Nanami, you like me?”

Nanami looks at you, feeling as though this was a test, “yes…?”

“Why?” You asked combatively.

But this is a dream come true, no? To be confessed to, to have feelings reciprocated by the man you like and admire so much. To hear him say, ‘I like you,’ and happily begin to date. It was what you wanted, right before your very eyes. But… it didn’t feel as dreamy as it did in your head. He had rejected you twice– what change of heart could a man possibly have so quickly?

“Why do I like you?” Nanami reiterates. You nod. “Well, as you pointed out before, it is not shocking for coworkers to get along so well that they become romantically affiliated.”

“Nanami, that’s in general,” your tongue sharply starts, “with that logic, you could have liked any person you have worked with in the past. My question is why do you specifically like me?”

Nanami’s cheeks hold a peach hue, with a lump in his throat. In this space, with your aura, it felt like an interrogation. Your eyes burned into his soul, and he knew no doctor here could relieve him of such intensity. “W-well, firstly, your eye for detail and how meticulous you are in your work is definitely one reason.”

“Sure,” you hum, unconvinced, “anything else?”

Nanami starts to feel cold, “and, I appreciate that you listen to instructions exactly the way it’s told. You even exceed my expectations and do more than what I tell you.”

“Nanami, I’m sorry,” you tilt your head like a confused dog, “are you trying to tell me that you like me because I do good work?”

“W-well,” Nanami tries to keep his cool, looking down shamefully at his hands. “I’ve never liked someone before. So, forgive me if my standards are… unique.”

“They are unique, I can give you that,” you begin, disappointment laced in your words, “but with what you’re saying… It means that I’m not really unique.”

“That’s simply not true,” Nanami immediately tries to disagree, but you bring him to a complete halt. You raise your hand to him, shutting him up silently. Putting your hand down, you look at him with a sheepish smile.

“Nanami,” you say before letting out a deep, exhausted sigh. “Don’t feel obligated to like me as an attempt to restore how we once were with one another. It’s adding insult to injury, and you don’t have to do that to yourself, either.”

His face goes pale, “but I do like you.”

“So why didn’t you say so before?”

“I already told you; I didn’t realize before,” Nanami’s hands hold onto the corner of your bed, his fingers desperately denting into the barely-foamed mattress.

“So… you didn’t know you liked me,” you began slowly, “and conveniently, you realized you like right after breaking my heart. Am I right?”

“Y/N, you’re taking this out of proportion,” Nanami hums. He quickly adjusts the surrounding curtains, closing all the gaps to mimic some sort of privacy. Taking a seat once more, he looks over to you and raises his eyebrows. “I would never pretend to like someone in order to spare their feelings. That would be a waste of my time.”

“But you like me for lame reasons,” you huff quietly, “you like that I’m a really good assistant to you. That I do my job well, that I don’t require more than a simple instruction. I’m useful, convenient. You like me because I’m doing you a service that you’re literally paying me for.”

“That’s not true,” Nanami counters, “I refused every single assistant until you.”

“Because you’ve eavesdropped and practically did your research on me,” you pointed out. Oh, how eavesdropping got us here…

“You know exactly how I am, Y/N,” Nanami argues quietly. He sits back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “I do not accept anything less than what should be standard. You exceed that standard, and I’ve had no regrets accepting you as my assistant.”

“If your big reason for liking me is because of the way I work, then I’m not interested,” you reply briefly. “You know nothing else about me besides my work ethic, which is only one part of me.”

Nanami looks at you, uncertain what else to say. You had your arms crossed above your own chest, looking distantly into the cold night. He was taken aback by your cold, avoidant demeanor. It was almost like you didn’t want to accept the reality. But, Nanami had a strong feeling that pressing it would make you shell up even more.

“Let’s be forward with one another,” Nanami says in a low tone. “We seem to go in this back and forth that’s a bit confusing. Why are you upset with me? We… now share the same sentiment.”

You look over at him, seeing the woe and worry in his eyes. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt in your heart. But you have to remember that your feelings were hurt first. You did the confessing, you took the rejection(s), and you did all the crying. Just because he was saying the things you wanted to hear doesn’t mean it was well timed.

“I don’t accept your confession,” you say simply. “If you didn’t realize you had feelings for me, that means there was a chance where you would have never realized it, and all this would have never happened.”

Nanami looks into your eyes, confidence standing its ground but wavering. He didn't know what to do. Though he knew he liked you, the points you brought up were irrefutable. Though he found you to be beautiful, and appreciated your thoughtfulness, he knew nothing about you or your past. And, with how defensive you now were, Nanami wasn’t too sure that he’d be able to delve into you like a swimmer diving in water.

But, he will absolutely traverse your waters, one way or another. Afterall, he’s a businessman.

“Then what is your offer?” Nanami begins, weaving his fingers between one another. He leaned into you, his head going over the gurney fencing.

“My offer?” You ask, a reticence on your tongue.

“You’re my woman of trade,” Nanami explains, “so, how much time do I have to persuade you that I like you?”

You feel your cheeks burn, “eh?”

“Give me an amount of time to convince you,” Nanami repeats himself, conviction being repaired in his words. “However long it takes, I’ll make it happen. I’ll make us happen.”

You immediately shake your head, “no.”

“Please?” Please? You raised your eyebrows, looking at Nanami. His usual empty scowl was softened, his hazel eyes shining like dew. You could tell he was at his wits end, unsure what else he could do.

As he silently pleaded, you felt a vibration sound on the table where your water bottle is. You look over, noticing your phone case. He follows your eyes and passes the phone to you. Quickly checking it, you casually skimmed an email notification and let out a curt sigh. You lift your head, and meet his eyes once more.

“You have until the end of the Holiday Party,” you offer simply, “but nothing dramatic or theatrical.”

Nanami stares at you, seeing if you were kidding or taking back your words. But you sat solemn. He nods, licking his bottom lip quickly to keep him from smiling. He brings his hand to you.

“Deal?” He says firmly. It felt like he was working, and for a moment even you were worried. Though you were confident in Nanami’s lack of sensibility, you couldn’t deny his businessman tactics and mind.

You slowly place your hand in his, and you feel him gently squeeze your hand. “D-deal.”

Taglist (OPEN)

@blossomedfloweroflove @numblytemporary @everyoneandtheirmothers @animechick555 @inthedarkshadows000

@m-arj-1 @julk4e @hadassery @swoozleee @angxlsatvrn

@v1x3n @s-witch-bitch @furgusonn @watyousayin @thechaoticarchivist

@simp-manhwa @5sos-wdw @ffyona1214 @phantombaby @evangel44xxcds

@ukiyodestiny @jasminelee324 @eurydxceorphxus @moonlightazriel @s3rp3ntsssc0ve

@dusty-dweller @wifenanami @bokuatsubro @ayesayman @starry-eyed--dreamer

@jazlenekasi @gradmacoco @nymphsdomain

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #nanami kento #jjk nanami #nanami x reader #kento nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanamin #jjk kento #kento x reader #kento x y/n #kento smut

304 notes · View notes

jo-com · 6 months ago

Text

🎧₊ ꪆৎ ˚⋆. ➛ The other Woman

Charles Leclerc x Fem!reader x Alexandra Saint Mieux

Summary: You’ve grown tired of the baseless rumors that you’re ‘the third party’— worst part is, Charles and Alex doesn’t defend you.

Genre: A little SMAU, Angst, Poly established relationship

Fc: Alexa Demie

Note: there are some grammar errors and this is not proofread also I figured i do an angsty fiction bcs i always write about fluff and just wanted to switch things up! Hope you enjoy thiis!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ➛ My Masterlist. (Part 2)

─────── ─ ⋆˚࿔☕️ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆─ ───────

Your heart clenched from sorrow as you scrolled further down the comment section— a mixed of different emotions coursing through your mind stream, making your heart and head throb with the growing pain.

Every hurtful banters went straight through your heart, as if they were knives; stabbing you in the most gruesome way.

The tears that you tried to held back is now pushing their way out of your eyelids, ready for them to fall down your porcelain cheeks.

As you red more— the feeling of discomfort subdued your thoughts and was in need of comforting.

So that’s what you did. Finding comfort in something or someone.

You hurriedly exited twitter with shaky hands and went straight to your contacts, ready to find the three of your’s group chat.

Expecting them to make your heart at ease and say nothing but endless affirmations.

…

➛ Message

…

Or so you thought.

You let out a heavy sigh— the stinging sensation in your chest won’t stop and was aching even more with each words that they replied with.

The hurt in your heart caused your pent up tears to pour down your cheeks, making a stream of profound sadness evident in your complexion.

You didn’t get why they were like that to you, i mean they did care even if it were a little, but saying that you’re overreacting is just crossing the line. If it were about them, they’d be all over the place. Things really are just different when it comes to you.

As those thoughts clouded your mind— the fear of being abandoned popped up. Planting an uneasy feeling grow deep in your heart.

…

The following days, you’ve avoided them like the plague— canceling their calls and making excuses whenever they ask you to go out, dismissing them with your lame transparent reasons.

But they didn’t buy it and kept on chatting you in all of your social media accounts.

Even after flooding your messages they still wouldn’t stop, and the same goes with your feelings. The hurt will always stay and keep on following you.

Those days also got you to rethink whether or not your important and do they even have a place for you in their heart. Earning a lot of sleepless days and silent cries; all alone in your own embrace.

The only two person who’ve known about your messy state were lily and alex.

Unlike the two, they were nothing but supportive and was giving you the comfort you needed in the first place. You wished that Alex and Charles was like that;

…

But instead of mopping around all weak, you’ve decided to take Lily’s offer in going out.

Unbeknownst to your two lovers of your whereabouts— still hurt from your previous conversation.

…

Miss.yn

Liked by Lilymhe and 12,789 others

Miss.yn Out of sight, out of mind💋

Tagged; @Lilymhe

View all comments

Username1 ATE THAT DRESS UPP

Lilymhe just wow🤤🤤

Miss.yn Love yaa!!

Username2 they could never make me hate u!!

Francisca.cgomes invites when??

Miss.yn Next time, i promise

Francisca.cgomes 🙄🙄🙄

Lilymhe i wanna go again😢

Miss.yn I know u miss me already🤭

Lilymhe i always do though??

Alex_albon weirdo.

Comments have been restricted

…

After posting your pics and not even 30 minutes have passed when you’ve received countless text messages of Alex and Charles.

…

After that, your whole world seem to be falling apart.

You couldn’t even count the days where you just laid in bed and only stared at the ceiling waiting for the hours to past.

Neither Alex and Charles chatted you after. Leaving a big hole in your heart— a hole that only they can fill.

The break up was a stupid idea but it was either that or stay with a relationship that doesn’t value your feelings. They’ve hurted you, not physically but emotionally and you had every right to be angry.

You just wished that they said something to even comfort your tearing heart.

That’s all you wanted from the start. Words of affirmation and comfort from the ones you love.

Was it too much to ask?

…

Hi i am back, sorry for not posting in a while, i really had this writers block that just couldn’t leave😓😓 hope you enjoyed this angst though!!

931 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 3 months ago

Note

Oh! Oh! I’m not the anon who asked about Jily x reader but your response made something spark in my brain. So picture a super cosy, soft scene where one of them comes home from a long and draining day of work to one of their loves in the kitchen baking, and then the third comes home with dinner and it’s all just soft and domestic. My heart! I think I can see the Jily x reader appeal

Thank you for requesting lovely! I feel like I'm still getting my sea legs under me with them but so far I'm really enjoying writing for them :)

poly!Jily x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

The front door opens, and you say “Hi,” with a question in your voice, unsure who’s made it home first.

The answer comes in the quiet scrape of a chair being pulled out. Only one of your partners is given to actually sitting down to take their shoes off, rather than toeing them off and being shocked when the backs get scuffed. “Hi, love,” Lily replies.

“Hi,” you say again, warmer now. “Hey, could you help me with something when you’re done?”

“Yeah, with what?”

“My hair won’t stop getting in my face.” You blow a strand away from your eye. It comes right back. “And my hands have dough on them.”

“Just a second.” You hear the chair being pushed back under your table, the quiet padding of socked feet as your girlfriend comes up behind you. As usual, she’s come prepared, a hair tie already on her wrist. Gentle fingers sweep strands away from your face and draw it all back into a loose ponytail. Lily presses a kiss to your nape once she’s done.

“Thank you,” you say, and she hums, settling her arms around your waist. “How was your day?”

Lily sighs and rests her chin on your shoulder. “Long.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, lovely. Anything in particular?”

“Not really. Just one thing after another, you know.” She toys with the loose knit of your sweater, sticking her finger through a hole. “I’m happy to be home.”

The fondness that bleeds through you feels warm and sticky. “I’m happy you’re home, too,” you say with a smile.

You feel her lips curve in kind as she kisses your shoulder. “What’re you making?”

“Cinnamon roll cookies. They’re more complicated than I thought, but I figure even if I mess them up they’ll at least smell nice when they’re baking.”

“Good thinking. You won’t mess them up, though.”

You both hear a key being fitted into the lock outside, and Lily calls out, “It’s open!”

“What?” The voice is muffled through the door. The key retracts, the handle twists. “Why is it open?” James asks as he comes inside. “I could be a murderer.”

“Because I knew you’d be right on my tail,” says Lily, at the same time as you say, “What makes you think someone would want to murder us?”

“Well, I’d rather you not find out,” James replies. He toes off his shoes and sets a large paper bag on the table. “Especially when I’m not home.”

“Oh, because surely we need a man to protect us? We could do just as well in a fight whether you were here or not.”

Looking at your tall, muscled boyfriend, you have to admit privately that this may be factually untrue. By the look Lily gives you as she goes to give him a kiss, she also disagrees with your argument even if she respects it.

“Let’s just keep the door locked and that way none of us ever have to fight,” James says as she steps into his arms. He smiles. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Lily pecks him on the lips. “What’s in the bag?”

“Dinner. I know I was meant to cook tonight, but I decided on the way home to pick up instead.”

“Oh no,” you say mournfully. “Did you have a bad day, too?”

“No.” James looks at you, confused. “Who had a bad day?”

“Lily did.”

“It wasn’t bad, it was just draining,” your girlfriend qualifies, though this doesn’t stop James from cooing and folding her into a hug. “I’m really fine.” Her voice is muffled against his chest.

“I must’ve had a sixth sense, then.” James kisses her hair. “I got your favorite.”

“No, did you really?” You can hear Lily perk up. She doesn’t completely remove herself from his embrace but frees one arm and cranes her neck to look inside the bag. “Thank you, love.”

“Don’t thank me, thank my telepathy,” he says, letting her go so she can start grabbing forks and napkins for you all to eat with.

James makes his way over to you, leaning against the counter so he can see your face while you work. The sleeves of his shirt are rolled up to his elbows, his hair fluffy like he’s been running his fingers through it or he rolled down the window on the drive home.

“And how was your day?” he asks you.

“My day was good.” You grin at him. He returns it with twice the enthusiasm. “I finished my book, and I found this recipe for cinnamon roll cookies.”

James’ gaze doesn’t dip to where you’re folding the cinnamon mixture into your dough. He nods as he keeps looking at your face, eyes warm. He’s still smiling.

“What?”

“Did you know you have a little bit of flour on your cheek?”

“Oh, why’d you ruin it?” Lily asks, bustling through the kitchen to get you water for dinner. “I wasn’t going to tell her.”

“What?” You look over your shoulder in betrayal. “Is it a lot? Why wouldn’t you tell me?”

Lily turns off the tap, giving you a sheepish smile and a lift of her shoulders as she passes by you again. “It’s cute.”

“It’s very cute,” James agrees. “Want me to get it for you?”

“Yes.” You roll your eyes at your girlfriend. “Please.”

James uses his thumb to brush off your cheek, holding your face in his hand while he does. His smile is still firmly in place, soft around the edges with a sweet fondness. He keeps rubbing until you’re sure the flour has to be long gone, until warmth kisses your cheeks and it’s just touching.

“Love you,” you say softly.

James’ cheeks dimple. “Love you, sweetheart.”

“Will you turn the tap on for me?”

He does, and you wash your hands in the sink, leaving the rest of the baking for after dinner.

“Oh, good.” Lily comes back into the kitchen. “Are you ready to eat? I’m worried it’s going to get cold.”

“We’re ready,” James answers for you. “Just washing up.”

“Jamie.” Lily smiles at you as you step away from the sink to let him have his turn. “You didn’t get it all.”

“I got distracted,” says James. “Anyway, I thought you liked it there.”

She beckons you closer. “I do, but if you’re going to get it, you may as well finish the job.” She brushes a fingertip over your cheek, pretty eyes crinkling. “There. Perfect.”

“She’s always perfect.” James dries his hands on a towel. He kisses you when you smile bashfully.

“The food’s getting cold,” you remind them.

“Excuses, excuses.”

399 notes · View notes

muwapsturniolo · 7 months ago

Text

✯𝐂𝐲𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐱 3✯

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐞 𝐌𝐮𝐰𝐚𝐩𝐆𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐢 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐛

IN WHICH… Matt and Chris Sturniolo are just two inexperienced losers.

𝐂𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD! mentions of camming, blowjobs, spit, little bit of sub!matt. that's all i think of let me know if i forgot something.

MPT1, GPT1, MPT2, GPT2,

"Can’t wait to see you again, maybe this time you won’t be as shy and you will actually look at me 💕"

Matt has been staring at those word for what seems like days, but in reality was really 30 minutes. He didn't know if he wanted to jump in excitement, or crawl into a hole and never come out.

He knew she caught a glimpse of his face in the diner, however, he didn't think she would recognize him and choose him as the winner. Part of him was hoping that she got too many submissions and would miss his, finding someone better than him.

There had to have been someone better than him. After all, he was nothing but a virgin who kept his head in books and the occasional video game. He wasn't experienced in her extracurricular activities.

So why did she pick hi-Mika.

Mika must have been with Y/n when going through the submissions and noticed Matt, thus being the reason he was picked.

Mika probably thinks he's some kind of freak for watching her best friend's streams. They were probably laughing at him right now, Mika going on to tell Y/n all about how they had to teach him how to take a picture of his dick.

He's mortified.

His phone ringing pulls him out of his thoughts, he glances over and his heart drops seeing the contact name.

Mika

Is she calling to make fun of him? To call him a perv for entering in a contest to win a date with a cam girl?

He shakily answers the call and places it on speaker, his voice cracking.

"H-hello?''

"Matt we need your help!"

We?

"With wh-So I'm at my friend's place and her camera is acting stupid! I know you are majoring in film so I was wondering if you could come over and help?"

He debates on helping, not really wanting to face Mika and the sheer embarrassment that she knows about the contest. "I-I don't know Mika I'm pre-Please Matt? I really need my camera fixed."

An all too familiar voice flows through the phone making Matt tense.

The voice was a bit higher pitched, the words whiny, but also sultry.

Y/n

He swallows harshly as he begins to sweat, he wasn't expecting to hear her voice at all. "Please Matt? I'll pay you."

Her words have an underlying tone that makes Matt all the more nervous.

"I- Ok...Yeah, I'll come help." He looks at himself in the mirror and grimaces at his outfit and hair. He had just gotten out of the shower not too long ago, his hair still partially wet and his pajamas on.

"Perfect! I'll have Mika send you the address! bye, pretty boy!"

Matt feels his face warm at the nickname, loving how it made him feel.

His phone lights up with text stating the address and his eyes widen.

They live in the same apartment building.

How did he never notice they lived in the same building? he's on the third floor and she's on the fourth, he should have noticed. How have they never run into each other?

He chooses not to dwell too much on it, and rushes out of his apartment, heading right towards the elevator.

He arrives at the door and shakily raises his hand, knocking on the wooden frame. Not even a second later it swings open, Mika standing in front of him.

He quickly notices the girl behind her, dressed in a pair of skimpy blue shorts and a matching tube top. It’s something about the brown girl in blue that does something to him.

Y/n catches him staring and smirks to herself, purposely crossing her arms so her boobs are pushed up. “Matt?” He snaps out of his trance and looks back to Mika

"S-sorry, what did you say?"

Mika rolls her eyes and pulls him inside, slamming the door in the process. "OK so I have to run and grab the food we ordered, I shouldn't be long. You two get the camera fixed." Mika quickly exits the apartment, leaving the two alone.

Y/n smirks as Matt refuses to look at her, his finger twitching as he becomes antsy. She takes a few steps until she's right in front of him, "You ok Matt? You look a bit sick."

'I-I'm fine-" He clears his throat and finally looks up, making brief eye contact before looking around the apartment. "-where's the camera?" He completely ignores her question, just wanting to fix the camera. the quicker he finishes his job, the quicker he can leave and be able to breathe properly.

She motions toward the hallway, a mischievous glint in her eye,

"my bedroom."

His mouth runs dry as she grabs his hand, guiding him to the bedroom he's seen multiple times through a screen. Y/n looks back at him and giggles, "What you've never been in a girl's bedroom before?'' Her question makes him blush, his hair falling in his face as he looks down. He quickly walks over to the bed, grabbing the camera. He looks over it, trying to see exactly what the problem is. He doesn't find anything so he averts his gaze to Y/n who's already looking at him.

"Um, what exactly is wrong with it?"

"It's not focusing and every time we take a picture, it doesn't save." Her words are whiny, a sense of urgency in her voice. He hums and looks back at the camera, turning it on and trying to see what she's talking about. He raises it up and focuses on a random doll on her nightstand. As she watches Matt get distracted by the camera, she takes the time to look him up and down.

She figures he just got out of the shower, seeing that his hair is wet and dripping onto his pink shirt. His sweatpants hang low on his waist, showing the band of his boxers.

He looks good.

“Are you going to accept the date.”

Her words make Matt fumble with the camera and drop it on the bed. She giggles and takes a step closer to him, her sweet perfume making its way through his nostrils and invading his senses.

“W-what?”

“The date Matt, are you going to accept?”

He swallows harshly, wiping his sweaty palms on his sweatpants. “I-I don’t know.”

She frowns at his answer, she was expecting him to say yes. Matt notices the look on her face and begins to panic, “n-not that I don’t want to! You’re great! I-I’m just n-nervous…”

“About what?”

“You..”

Y/n tilts her head to the side.

He’s nervous about her?

“Me? Why are you nervous about me?” She watches as he looks everywhere but at her, even going as far as taking a step back. She smiles and takes a step towards him, watching as he swallows harshly.

She delicately trails her hand over his tattooed arm, allowing her nails to gently scratch over the black ink. "Are you nervous right now?" She looks up at him, enjoying the anxious look on his face.

"Y-Y no..." He lies softly. The girl hums and cocks her head to the side, "You sure? You seem really nervous. Maybe I could help you with that." She gently pushes him down on the bed, immediately dropping to her knees. Matt quickly adjusts his glasses and looks down at her with wide eyes.

If it wasn't already, his heart was definitely pounding out of his chest. He feels his mouth run dry as she places her hands on his thighs, rubbing over his sweatpants slowly. She chuckles under her breath as she watches the tent rise in front of her, "Someone excited."

She slowly inches her hands toward the tent, pulling it away at the last minute. "You know, I really enjoyed your video Matt."

"Y-you did?" He curses as his voice cracks, the tension in the room making him shake slightly.

"Mhm, I loved the setup you had, I loved the way you pulled your sweats down and started to tease yourself slowly, building up your release. I loved the way you moaned and whimpered my name, begging your mommy, to let you cum. I didn't take you as a mommy kink person."

Matt is breathing harshly at this point, nothing but dirty thoughts that have his face turning red intruding his mind. He doesn't understand how Y/n manages to look so innocent when she's on her knees in front of him and talking about him masturbating.

" But you want to know what I really loved?"

He sucks in a sharp breath when she finally lays her hand on his tent, palming him gently.

"How big you were. You should have seen how wet I got when I saw it. I imagined how it felt in me, the way it would slip in so easily. The thoughts became so intense I ended up playing with myself." she admits without a care in the world. She was a sucker for dirty talk, the erotic words always going straight to her core as her brain managed to develop the images as if she was in a dark room with a Polaroid.

She could tell the titillating words were getting to him as well, him now sitting there nonverbal and only breathing raggedly.

"Can I see?" She asks in faux innocence, her hand still moving against his tent at an agonizingly slow pace.

He wants to say yes so bad, he would be an absolute fucking dumbass not to, but he's worried about Mika walking through the door and catching them. Y/n notices the way his eyes frantically switch between her and the door, finding it amusing that he's worried about being caught.

"Don't worry about Mika. Let me help you relax," her hands go toward the knot on his sweats, taking her time untying them before pulling them down gently.

He's wearing a pair of blue boxers that happen to sheer against his growing bulge, a dark spot sitting where his tip lays from precum. She lays her head on his thigh, beginning to palm over him once again before circling the nail of her index finger against the covered tip. Matt bites his lip in trepidation, his skin getting hot as she teases him.

He whimpers as she plants feather-like kisses on his tip through the cotton material, her tongue darting out and licking a fat strip over the tent not long after.

She's going to be the death of him, he's sure of it.

Before he knows it, her fingers are hooked into the waistband of his boxers and they are being pulled down, his cock swinging up and hitting him in his abdomen.

Just like the other night, Y/n can feel her mouth watering and an ache forming in between her legs.

It's even more appealing in person.

She wraps her hand around the base and moves closer, planting a small kiss on his tip. She looks up at Matt and maintains eye-contact as she gathers a bunch of spit in her mouth, soon opening the orifice and sticking her tongue out.

Matt flinches as the warm saliva drips onto his tip, his fingers twitching at the sensation of it running down the side of his aching cock.

She uses the spit as a natural lube and begins to move her hand up and down, making sure to work him slowly so he won't cum fast. She plans on dragging this out as long as she could.

Matt's eyes flutter shut, his teeth digging into his bottom lip harshly as he holds back a moan. This was a whole new experience for him, only having started masturbating a few months ago. He was used to his own hand, and setting his own pace, but this?

This was a feeling that he knew he would chase till the end of time.

Her hand feels completely different from his, the skin a bit softer as well as the touch. Her movements were fluid, yet staggered at the same time.

He wouldn't trade it for the world.

His eyes snap open feeling her lips suddenly engulf his tip. He lets a low groan escape his throat as her tongue swirls around the red mushroom top.

She hums, watching as the vibrations make him shiver. It's not long before she decides to take him fully in her mouth, hallowing out her cheeks. Matt lets out a choked gasp at the unfamiliar feeling.

"Oh fu-ck!" His hands have an iron grip on the pink duvet as she proceeds to bob her head up and down. He doesn't know what to focus on.

Does he focus on her mouth and hallowed out cheeks? Or does he focus on the way her tongue is gliding against the side of his dick?

He truly doesn't know considering his mind is all over the place, the only thing he can focus on being this newfound pleasure.

The lewd slurping sounds along with Matt's moans and whimpers bouncing off the walls drive Y/n even more. She keeps her eyes trained on Matt as she takes him all the way down her throat, watching him close his eyes and throw his head back. His moans go straight to her core, but she does nothing about it, her only goal as of right now is to give Matt the best head of his life.

And she's doing just that.

She speeds up her motion of bobbing, enjoying watching him crumble above her.

Matt feels like the soul is being sucked out of him, quite literally. His breathing speeds up and his knuckles remain a sickly white as his stomach begins to cave in on itself.

"Shit I'm close- Oh fuck please!" He begs, unintentionally bucking his hips further into her mouth.

She hums once again, making Matt damn near cry as the vibrations send him over the edge.

His head falls forward, his jaw dropping as his eyes close. Y/n keeps bobbing her head, moaning as she begins to taste the semi-salty liquid coating her taste buds.

Matt whimpers as she proceeds to suck him off, the overstimulation quickly becoming too much. His thighs begin to shake and he finally speaks, "s'too much!"

Y/n slowly stops bobbing her head and pulls away from him with a pop, a thin string of spit and cum attaching itself to his cock and her lips.

Matt swallows harshly and pants as he lifts his head, watching with hazy eyes as Y/n licks her lips.

"You look more relaxed now," she teases, a sly smile making its way on to her face as she manages to still look at him innocently.

Before either of them could say anything else, they hear the front door only a few feet away swing open.

"I'm back and I got Chinese food!"

Y/n quickly stands to her feet as Matt hastily grabs at his boxers and pants, the two trying to put themselves together quickly. Just as the two manage to look presentable, Mika walks into the room.

"Sorry it took me so long, they fucked up the original order and they had to remake it, but they let me keep the fucked up one so now we have double the food!" Y/n nods, trying to act completely normal.

"Matt why are you so red?" Mika asks looking at the boy who is in fact red in the face. "i-it's just hot..." He attempts to lie, hoping Mika will just drop it. Fortunately for him, the girl does in fact drop it, too hungry to care.

"Ok well lets eat. Matt you want to stay? We have more than enough food." Matt freezes at the offer.

He would like to stay, but he doesn't know if he physically could. He just got the blowjob of his life from the girl of his dreams, he doesn't know if he would be mentally able to sit and eat with her.

He would probably combust.

"yeah, Matt stay! " Y/n begs, that mischievous glint returning in her eyes.

"I-ok," he gives in easily, finding it hard to say no to the girl and her puppy dog eyes. She smiles and grabs his hand, leading him to the kitchen. They stop in front of her fridge and she swings the door open, bending over directly in front of him.

Matts eyes widen feeling her ass rub against him, "what do you want to drink?" She asks as if she's not teasing.

She's going to be the death of him.

alright, i finally gave yall pt 3😭 this was supposed to only be three parts but i feel bad for posting without @guccifrog so when pookie comes back imma give yall a pt 4💀 i hope yall enjoy

𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🍑: @mattslolita @thenickgirl @guccifrog @luverboychris @zayyluvz @mrsmiagreer @chrisssluttywaist @78yaz @hoesformatt @freshloveforthefit @3lizaluvs @mattsturniolosgirlfriend @jetaimevous @luxy-nyx @ts-is-my-spirt-animal @iihrtsturniol0 @idontexistman @katw4shereee @madisturn @starlace111 @zivall @adoreindie @imwetforyourmom @sturnsxplr-25 @sturncakez @theyluvme-2315 @moonk1ss3d

special tags: @lovetriplets @summerssover @m0r94n @certifiednatelover @mattsturniololoverr @luvulots @nena1256

509 notes · View notes

backtothefuturefan88 · 6 months ago

Text

I’m back with an another redesign of Ahsoka Tano; this time it’s her second padawan outfit (season 3-5).

I drew her markings on her face and Lekku (which I did make longer) to match a little more to how she looks in Rebels; I didn’t like how different she looked in Rebels originally, but the design has kinda grown on me.

I kept her Akul teeth, purple sash that hangs from her belt, and black eyes from Shaak Ti’s original concept design, but changed her jewelry slightly from my first design.

I wanted to give her robes that were more similar to traditional Jedi robes compared to her original outfit, but changed to the sleeves to be a cut open design and her skirt splits at the sides to allow more movement.

The piece that hangs from her belt is from concept art for Shaak Ti.

Her belt is based off of Obi-Wan’s with two lightsaber clips next to each other, but I added her original yellow belt clip, and a pack in the back that Fives has when he becomes a Arc Trooper; I also added a chain with Anooba teeth that hangs from the belt that she kept as trophy for surviving the Citadel.

The last thing I added was the Clone Armor. The chest piece has the Jedi symbol on her right hand side, and a pattern of the holes in her armbands from her original outfit.

The boots have the diamond pattern her leggings have from her original outfit.

And lastly I added different aurebesh names across her armor; I encourage you to translate them.

I’m really happy with design! I think I like it more than my first one.

What do you think of this one?

And should I redesign Ahsoka’s other outfits?

I probably will, but what do you guys think?

(Part 3 👇)

477 notes · View notes

asumofwords · 11 months ago

Text

Common Factors - Michael Gavey x Reader

Synopsis: Part 2 of Midpoint, though can be read as a standalone. Michael Gavey asked you out for a drink and you had surprisingly agreed. Will you be able to tolerate each others wit without bickering, or will you lose yourself to him once more?

Warnings: This fic is 18+, readers discretion is advised. Public fingering, teasing, degradation, name calling, voyeurism, dumbification, finger fucking, biting, bratty reader. This is porn with barely any plot.

Word Count: 6k

Notes: Hello my angels, I know you have all been waiting so patiently for part two of Midpoint and here it is! Now I can't say that there will be a third/final chapter, but I may have ideas for it. No promises though. Saltburn has made me so nostalgic, I miss MSN messenger and MySpace. I miss the early 2000s so much, the tackiness of it, how everything was just to the max. Lmao. I also miss Tamagotchis. *Sigh*, nostalgia. Anywayyyyy, thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy! <3

Part 1 - Midpoint

When Michael had asked you out for a drink, or rather asked if you wanted to get a drink, it was not really a distinct question of going on a date with him or not, and perhaps you were arguing semantics right now, but that was besides the point.

He had thought that you would go right after your little event in the library. His eagerness was riddled by anxiety, clear for anyone, not that there was anyone in the vicinity, to see or hear, you hoped.

You had shifted awkwardly for a moment, feeling his spend slide down you thigh in the large hole he had ripped in your stockings, explaining that you wouldn’t be able to go that evening.

He wilted.

It strummed a cord in your chest, and so you quickly explained that it was because of said issue between your legs, and not that you didn’t want to see him again. The fire in his eyes lit up again, and for a moment, the hair on the back of your neck stuck up. It felt as if you were about to be confronted once more by his obnoxious spite, though thankfully, and only because of your quick explanation, did he soften and you exchange details for your respected MSN Messenger accounts.

The night after he was busy, apparently there was some sort of important chess tourney that he would be going to with his friend, you were unaware that he had any, and so he proposed the night after. But the night after you had told your best friend that you would bus into the city centre to meet with her, so that was no go as well.

You both thankfully settled on the Friday later that week, agreeing to meet at the small pub you frequented, which you found he did too. Each time the computer dinged at his reply, a thrill of excitement crawled through you. He was rather curt in his messages, but eager, and would often would send moving emojis at the end, which you saved and would send back.

Friday rolled around quickly, and you found yourself eager to see him again. You spent a solid two hours fretting over what to wear, deciding that pants or tights were not an option this time despite the cold weather.

You settled on a cute little outfit, the skirt of it coming to your mid thigh, looking at yourself in the mirror as you left before triple checking your computer and Nokia for any messages to say he was late, or couldn’t come, but none came. The last message he had sent to you, was a smiling thumbs up that moved largely across your screen agreeing to see you at 7pm sharp.

You left early, earlier than what was needed, and sped walked the entire way to the pub, pulling your large jacket tightly around you, scarf covering the lower half of your face. The air was particularly crisp that evening, and by the looks of it, it may snow later, and although it was quite cold, you could see from afar that the pub was full, the winter air not deterring them.

When you opened the door, the stale stench of its beer soaked floorboards filled your senses, loud music and even louder people, drinking and smoking and laughing in large groups without any care for the world. You knew that break would soon enough be coming to an end, and all the students would now be slowly making their way back, spending their last days or weeks of break with friends on campus and the establishments surrounding.

The air inside the venue was stuffy, and almost wet with condensation, and as you rose on your tip toes, looking over the heads of others at their tables, or at the bar, you struggled to spot the familiar sandy blonde hair from your library, and the glasses that sat perched on his sharp nose.

You pulled out your Nokia, checking the time and also checking for any messages.

It was 6:57.

You were early.

But not too early.

Heading straight for the bar, you ordered yourself a drink, eyes drifting back over the pub, looking at the faces to see if you could see him with anyone. When again, you didn’t spot him, you told yourself not to panic, and instead decided that you would find yourself a spot to sit. There was table in the far corner, away from most, its surface was cleared bar a half drunken pint, hidden in the shadows and pressed against the wall between two larger tables, filled with people. You paid for your drink, and headed straight for the empty seat, winding past the pulled out chairs and wafts of smoke.

You were halfway there when a figure popped into your periphery. Your eyes locked onto a pair of familiar blue ones, a twitching smile pulling at his sharp yet plump lips. He came towards you from the direction of the loo, and you watched as he wiped his hands down the sides of his pants despite them looking dry.

“Hey.” You smiled, stopping short of the table, to awkwardly look up at him as he made his way over.

“Hi.”

You shifted awkwardly around each other before you leant forward to give him a hug, he wrapped one arm around you stiffly in reciprocation, before pulling back to straighten, eyeing the drink in your hand.

“You get me one?” Michael nodded his head to your drink.

Your brows furrowed softly, “Uh, no. I wasn’t sure if you were here.”

Michael hummed, “I’m never late.”

Here we go again, you inwardly sighed. This is just what you didn't need. Another run in with his attitude.

“I wasn’t to know that.”

Michael stared at you a moment longer before turning away to the bar. You watched him awkwardly, yet somehow confidently, move through what little people stood at the counter waiting, standing rod straight as he ordered himself another pint. As he waited, you took your seat on the side where the half drunk beer wasn’t, back to the wall and completely cornered in.

When Michael came back, beer in hand, you let yourself graze your eyes over him. You couldn’t stifle the laugh that exploded from your lips. He frowned as he sat opposite you, a tinge of defensiveness showing on his strong features.

“What?” He almost sneered, watching as you brought a hand to your mouth to try and cover it up.

“I’m sorry,” You giggled again, having to look at the ceiling for two seconds, trying to compose yourself, pushing a breath out shakily, “Your shirt.”

You began to laugh again, watching him as he looked down at it, inspecting it for a stain or hole.

“What’s wrong with my shirt?” He asked clinically, not finding a rip or hole or bird shit which he had suspected was there for a moment on the material.

You bit your bottom lip and giggled again, “It’s awful.”

Tucked into his cargo pants and black leather belt was one of the worst shirts you had ever laid eyes upon. It was white, and in big font on the front, it read ‘Weapon of Math Instructions’. On it, small drawings of calculators, protractors, and sums surrounded the large font.

In a quieter voice this time, he replied, “I got it for my birthday.” He picked up the sweating beer to bring to his lips, the foam coating his mouth as he drank deeply.

You felt a tinge of regret for laughing at him so openly, even though it was admittedly the worst shirt you had ever seen, “Do you enjoy maths puns, Gavey?” You tried to sound flirtatious, but in the moment you sounded more unsure than anything.

Michael took the beer away from his lips, swiping the back of his hand against his mouth, “If they’re funny. Why?”

“Do you have more shirts like this?” You tried to contain your mirth and failed.

The curiosity melted away, and a stony expression slipped over his face, “You’re taking the piss.”

You shook your head, heart speeding up, “No! No, sorry, Michael. I swear I’m not, I just, I wanted to- I’m trying-“

“-For someone whose degree relies heavily on the english word, you sure do struggle to find them.” The smirk on his lips was a thinly thing that indicated that he was being playful, but if he hadn't of smirked, you wouldn't have known. His tone was flat, his body posture stiff, and not once did he laugh, but you knew him.

And it more intimate than you would have liked.

Tongue in cheek in you leant back in your chair, feeling a comfortable little bubble surround you, the tension that was there only simmering in the background now, and not drowning you in it.

“How was the chess tourney?” You took a sip from your drink as he watched you.

“Fascinating, if it’s something of interest.”

His answer surprised you,.

“And was it of interest?”

“TBD.”

You took another sip of your drink, “My nan used to play chess with me when I was little.”

This seemed to peak Michael’s interest greatly, “You can play?”

You shook your head humbly, smiling, “I can play, though I’m probably not very good.”

“We should play.” His answer was so immediate, so abrupt, that you could only blink before remembering to reply.

“What, now?”

Michael raised his brows at you as though you were intellectually stunted, “Do you see any chess boards in this shit hole?”

You breathed sharply through your nose, “No.” You said more afronted than intended, “I was just asking-“

“-You ask a lot of questions but don’t know what ones you want the answers for.”

Annoyance began to bloom in your chest, “I thought we were done with this tit-for-tat nonsense. Or did you want a round two, Gavey?”

A soft blush spread across his cheeks, and you knew you had him.

“Are you going to ask me about my day?” You cheeked, enjoying the way he flustered slightly, and then held back an angry sneer.

“How was it?”

“How was what?”

Michaels jaw tensed, and you bit your inner cheek to not smile, “Your day.”

A large grin spread across your lips along with a false expression of realisation, “Oh, my day! My day was fine, thank you, Michael. I did some reading, I did some study, and then I got myself ready to have drinks with a right git.”

Michael sucked his teeth loudly, “You’re funny. Should be a comedian instead of studying them.”

“You’re cute,“ You countered, “Should smile more instead of sneer.”

“I thought you said we were done with this nonsense.”

“I did, and I am. Starting…. Now.” You smiled widely, bringing your drink up to toast.

Michael looked at you oddly, then to the glass in your hand before finally he brought his up, connecting the two cups.

You smiled wider, proud to be ready to say something you know will interest him,“‘If you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it well enough.’”

Michael's glass slammed down onto the table, his body leaning towards you in palpable excitement, “How do you know that?” His voice was eager, like you had lit a flame inside of him.

You smiled smugly, sipping on your drink, proud of yourself to have garnered such a reaction, “Learnt it with my degree. Einstein wasn’t just a man of maths. He was an important part of modern history. Especially regarding his involvement, or I should say rather, his non-involvement in the Manhattan Project.”

Michael's eyes lit up behind his glasses before he picked up his beer and thrust it against yours again, “Glad they’re teaching you something of importance.”

You huffed and laughed and sipped, watching as Michael settled his chair closer to you. It felt as if a door had been opened, and suddenly you were able to step inside the world that was Michael Gavey.

“You know,” You smirked, feeling heat from him beside you, chairs still apart, but bodies leant towards each other, “Art and History is just as important as Maths and Science.”

Gavey looked as though you had declared that the Earth was flat. It was a peculiar little look that made you want to lean across the space and press your lips squarely against his.

“I’m being serious.” You continued, “Without art, without history, the world would be a lot more boring than it is now.”

Michael pursed his lips at you, “Whatever helps you rationalise your choice of degree.”

You sipped your drink, eyes watching him over the rim of your glass, “I’ll let that slide. Only because I know you like watching me get riled up.”

“You’re rather confident of yourself this evening.” He commented, his blue eyes gleaming behind his glasses.

“And you’re rather goading. Not that that’s out of the ordinary.”

His fingers strummed against the table as he looked at you, eyes roaming over your body, “You look nice.”

“I would say the same, but I hate lying, and that shirt is an abomination.” You teased, bumping your shoulder into his lightly.

He smiled.

When did it become this?

How did it become so easy for you to melt into this conversation with him of all people?

Only earlier this week the two of you were at each others throats, snarling and fighting, and now here you were, seated beside each other, making little jokes and sitting intimately close.

“Careful. Tit-for-tat.” Michael warned you, and you rolled your eyes playfully with a huff.

It seemed to please him, and soon enough you were moving through a smooth conversation. He mostly asked you about your studies and friends, and even asked about your family.

And you learnt about his. A fairly standard, run of the mill family. One sister, and an older brother, had a dog growing up, and now has a fish.

But soon enough the conversation drifted back to your studies.

“Are you looking forward to term starting again?” You asked.

You felt as though he would be, his desire for learning and studying was clear whenever he spoke about it. He was passionate, and it was something that you admired about him. Or at least, now you did.

Michael shrugged, “I’m looking forward to graduating.”

This confused you.

“Why?”

Michael frowned, “Why do you think? I’m second in our year, I barely need to study-“

“-All you do is study, Michael.”

“Because there’s not much else to do here, I don’t have friends like you do.” Michael sneered the word friends, and immediately you knew who he was referring to.

“Michael-“

“-It’s different for us. People who aren’t ‘in’. Theres no parties, or accolades, only our degree.”

“You know that I’m not-“

“-I know that you don’t think you are, but whether you like it or not, they consider you one of them.”

You frowned. You didn’t like hearing that, especially with what Farleigh had said to you. You hated it because whilst it was wrong, it was still true. You did get invited to the parties, you had them all on MySpace and MSN, and even had their numbers in your phone. But for you, it was different, and Michael knew it.

You pushed your tongue against the side of your mouth, “I’ll bring you as my plus one to the next party. Then you can see that you’re not missing out on much.”

“You’d be seen with me in public? With them watching?” He said it with a laugh, though it was entirely humourless.

Your head tilted to the side, “We’re in public right now, aren’t we?” You looked around the pub, watching the many faces around you before settling back onto his. His expression was unreadable, until finally-

“We are in public.” He smirked. Gavey downed the rest of his beer quickly, all but slamming his glass onto the table, though not loud enough to garner any attention from the other patrons.

Michaels hand grabbed the seat of your chair and pulled it roughly towards him. You let out a squeak of surprise as your seat shifted against the floor suddenly, almost making you lose your balance.

“Michael!”

“What?” He asked innocently.

“What are you doing?” Your heart began to quicken, his hand coming down to brush against your thigh as he intently stared at you from behind his glasses.

“I’m not doing anything.” His hand inched higher, grazing your inner thigh.

In a small panic, you lifted your gaze to the rest of the pub. Not one person had looked up when he dragged you to him, nor had anyone taken even the slightest bit of interest about the two students hidden in the dark corner table. Everyone in the pub was drunk and too absorbed by their own conversations and friends to notice anyone else.

“What’s wrong?” Gavey teased, voice dipping lower as he openly mocked you, his pinky finger skirting against the edge of your panties.

Your brain had short circuited itself.

You were in public.

Where anyone could see.

And Michael had his hand under your skirt, teasing you.

This was what not what you would have expected from the man who was currently wearing a maths pun on his shirt. Your hand dropped under the table and grabbed his wrist tightly, stopping him from moving it any higher, though this didn’t prevent him from continuing to run his pinky back and forth under the elastic of your panties.

Heat coursed through you, and your core clenched around nothing.

“What are you doing?” You asked breathlessly, a rhetorical question really. You knew just as well as he did exactly what he was doing.

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Gavey.”

“I’ll tell you what,” He smirked again, eyes locked onto your face, watching as you struggled internally, “You sit there and be a good girl for me, and when we go back to your room, I will give you what you want.”

You blinked.

Michael squeezed your thigh roughly, “Use your words.”

“Okay.” You breathed.

“Okay what?”

“Yes.” Your blood pumped loudly in your ears, air struggling to get inside of you as you squirmed in anticipation.

“Yes, who?”

You wet your lips with your tongue, mouth suddenly feeling dry, “Yes, Michael.”

He could be so demeaning so quickly. Like a switch was flicked. He went from this awkward, sneering maths genius to a cold and domineering man who could pull any response he liked from you.

“Better.” He smiled, “Now,” Swiftly Michael tugged your panties to the tide, two fingers immediately grazing your centre. You jerked as he slowly dragged his fingers through your folds and up to your clit.

You were soaked.

“Tell me what they’ve taught you about Einstein, since you want to use his words as a toast.” He looked you in the eyes as your breath caught on itself, his fingers swirling around your bud slickly.

Michael suddenly paused, stilling his fingers, “Unless you only used him to try and impress me?”

Irritation coursed through you alongside frustration, “I didn’t use him to im-“ Your voice stilted as he began to rub his fingers against you again.

“To what?” He mocked you.

“I-Impress you. We learnt abou-t him and his wife recently.”

“The wife he divorced?”

“Yes.” You grit through your teeth, pleasure winding powerfully through you. Your toes curled in your shoes, stomach clenching as his fingers dipped back down to your entrance, scooping up more of your slick to drag back to your bud. Your eyes flittered around the pub, checking nervously to see if anyone had noticed what was going on underneath the table.

No-one had.

“Surely you can find the words to tell me more?” One long finger suddenly pressed inside of you, causing you to gasp loudly, hands gripping the edge of the table tightly, “Or are you dumb already?”

“H-his wife was a brilliant physicist,” You struggled to control yourself as he crooked the long finger inside of you, curling it up against your inner walls, “And a-a mathematician.”

“Was she now?”

“Yes. Mileva Marić. They were married for a decade, and he-“ All thoughts escaped you as Michael added a second finger with the first, the stretch pressing into you deliciously as he immediately hooked his digits. You blinked mouth agape whilst looking at him, feeling your face become flushed.

His eyes were half lidded as he watched at you intently, watching your every reaction, testing and teasing to see what made you tick, eager to make you come undone.

This was affecting him as much as it was you.

Only he didn’t care for others catching on.

His stare urged you to continue.

“H-he was cruel to her.” You muttered, brain struggling to catch up.

Michael hummed, “Most men of historical notice were. It was the norm.”

“It doesn’t m-mean that it was okay.”

“No. But a man such as him surely deserves more merit in your eyes.” As his fingers crooked into you, slowly rubbing the spongy patch inside, his thumb pressed against your bud, causing you to shift your hips towards him, grinding down on his hand as you breathed a breathy moan, “Einstein did things that no men could.”

“I-if it was all his w-work to begin with.” You argued weakly, unable to keep your voice sturdy.

“What do you mean?” Michael’s interest halted his hands movement, but this lapse in control only lasted a moment before he corrected himself and began again.

“M-Mileva scored higher than him in applied physics. Five to his one. I-It's believed she helped him complete equations that he couldn’t without the credit. I-It's why he promised her the money f-from his Nobel Prize.”

The mans fingers slowed down their ministrations as he digested your stuttered information, the coil within you already beginning to tighten, “Fascinating.” He breathed, edging closer to you, “Tell me more.”

“Many women-” Michaels thumb began to quicken, halting your thoughts abruptly, your hands still clutching the edge of the table, knuckles aching.

“Many women, what?” He parroted you meanly, “Don’t tell me you’re close already, are you?”

You swallowed thickly, not willing to open your mouth lest a moan or gasp fall out. Michael chuckled quietly, his fingers quickening the pace within, causing you to arch towards him and grind down against his hand again. His arm subtly moved against you, and if anyone in the pub looked, they would surely know what was going on.

“Look at you,” He cooed, his other hand brushing hair behind your ear, “Already so close.”

You whined, trying to shift closer to him and his hand, if that was even possible.

“Does it turn you on that I’ve got my hand in your cunt for all to see?” He purred, “If someone just turned around right,” His fingers pulled out from you momentarily, moving up to your clit where he pinched it between thumb and forefinger, causing you to jerk, “Now, and looked closely enough, they’d be able to see how you’re desperately grinding down against my fingers.”

Your core clenched around him at his words.

“Oh, you do like it.” He tutted, “Such a dirty little whore.”

You whined again, “Michael I-“

“Shhh, don’t you worry that pretty, little, empty head.” He cooed, emphasised by swift rubbing circles on your bud, “I’ll take care of you, but only if you behave.”

You nodded desperately, feeling yourself get closer and closer to the edge. You would do anything. You were desperate at this point. The week of waiting for him had filled you with anticipation, and meant you spent most of your nights with your fingers or vibrator between your thighs thinking about him and your last meeting in the library.

Michael watched you nod and grind down on his hand, his pace slowing so that you couldn’t get much out of it besides a slow and steady buzz of pleasure.

He seemed to think for a moment, deliberating, before an almost cruel smirk pulled at his lips.

“Do you know your times tables?” He asked, fingers almost still at this point, only languidly moving to keep you riled, or to remind you of what he was doing.

You could scarcely think, scarcely exist without feeling as though you were at any moment about to come undone, his hands keeping you just at the precipice. Your mind was hazy, and any and all thoughts of substance had seemed to escape you.

“Use your words.” He encouraged you in a demeaning manner.

“Y-Yes.”

“Good. Not just a pretty face then.” The backhanded comment could have made you smile, “We are going to play a game.”

Could have.

Your eyes widened slightly, hands dropping down to clutch the underside of the table, “A game?”

“Yes.” He gave you an encouraging smile, “Good job. A game.” He was treating you like you were a child who is only just beginning to understand a basic concept, “I’m going to ask you an equation, and you’re going to answer it. If you’re correct, you get a reward. If not,” He paused, fingers teasing you again, “You get punished. Do you understand? Or do I need to dumb it down for you?”

The way he was speaking to you, so meanly, so smugly, made you clench harder around his fingers.

You liked when he was mean to you.

“Answer me. Yes or no.”

“Y-yes.”

“Good girl. Alright,” His hand paused its movements, pulling his fingers out to just rest lightly against your bud, barely touching you, “What is the sum of seven times nine? I’ll use small numbers so that it doesn’t confuse you.”

Slowly, you did the maths in your head, “Sixty-three.”

Michael smirked, “Good girl.” You keened at the praise, and felt his fingers press a little harder into you, his movements beginning to start again slowly, though not enough to give you any pleasure.

“What is fifteen times six?”

Oh god.

“Um,” You shifted, blinking rapidly to try and do the maths, but every time you got somewhere, Michael would press against you harder as if he knew, ruining your train of thought.

“Come on,” He teased with a swirl of his fingers, “That’s an easy one.”

-5 is 75, then-

“Ninety.” You gasped out.

“Good, good. So clever of you.” He cooed, though the sarcasm dripped from his lips. His fingers once again pressed harder, sparks of pleasure finally springing up inside of you. The sound of the pub was loud around you, and in the dim light, you could see that a blush had spread across his cheeks.

“One more and then I’ll give you your reward. If you get it wrong, then you get nothing. Ready?”

You nodded shakily, chasing his hands with your hips. He tsk-ed you and stilled his hands, “Don’t be greedy.” You apologised softly and stilled, waiting for him to start again.

"Twelve times seventeen.”

Oh God.

What?

“M-michael, that’s not-“

“What? It’s easy enough. Even the thickest of people could get it. Though I suppose you’re getting all pretty and dumb for me anyway.”

“I-“

“How about this,” He smirked, and the way he did it caused you to sit on edge, “I’ll help you since you’re such a stupid little girl.” Michael plungers his fingers into you with no warning, immediately fucking them into you rapidly.

You sucked in air sharply, feeling the coil within begin to pull taught.

“Twelve times fifteen is one-hundred-and-eighty. You need two more twelves. Do you know what two times twelve is?”

Did you?

Jesus.

“I- It’s twenty four.” You answered shakily, surprised at your own voice.

“Twelve times seventeen?” He repeated the original question, “Oh dear, you really do have no brain.”

“N-No.” Your voice shook with how roughly and quickly Michael fucked you on his fingers, “Two times twelve.”

“Ah, clever little idiot. Go on now, what is one-hundred-and-eighty plus twenty-four.”

Your brain couldn’t do it, too hazy with how he was degrading you and how well he was touching you. You just wanted to cum. All you wanted was to cum. And then his thumb joined, swirling over your clit slickly as his fingers pistoned in and out of you, the sound of your wet rising from beneath the table. Your arousal pooled onto the back of your skirt and the wood of the seat.

“T-two-hundred-and-“ Michael pressed his thumb brutally against your clit suddenly, fire coursing through you, ruining your train of thought once again.

Damn him.

“Two-hundred-and what?”

Oh god.

“Two?”

Michael frowned at you, though you could tell that he was pleased, his fingers pulled away from you quickly, your eyes widening.

“N-No!” You grabbed his wrist keeping it against your inner thigh, his slick fingers pressing against your skin, “I-I-“

“Wrong answer.” He tutted, “You’re so fucking stupid. So fucking stupid and desperate, look at you.”

“Please, please,” You begged, clit throbbing, “I know- I know what the sum is. Please.” You pulled his hand back to your core, his fingers stiff as you ground against them desperately, “It’s two-hundred-and-four. Two-hundred-and-four. Michael, please.”

Michael’s fingers did not move, and watched you with entertainment as you desperately rubbed him against you. You needed to cum. You needed it. You didn’t care who saw. You didn’t care if it was degrading. You needed him. And you needed him now.

“Look how fucking desperate you are.” He laughed, “So pathetic. Whining like a bitch in heat as you grind against my hand. Are you that desperate to be a little whore?”

“Yes. Please. Please, Michael. Please. I need it.”

“You need it?” He smirked.

You were so close, so so close, “Please, please.”

“Tell me you need me.” He breathed, face coming closer to yours, his breath fanning agains your lips.

You licked your lips again, swallowing thickly, “I need you.”

Gavey smiled toothily, “You’re so pathetic.”

And without a second thought, or really without even a first thought, you nodded in agreement, “I’m pathetic. Please. Please, Michael, I want you.”

“What will you do to get it?”

“Anything. Please.”

“Anything?” He asked again, eyes searching your face.

You nodded desperately, needing him more than you had ever needed something before “Please.”

“Okay.” His fingers slipped back into you as he breathed the word, almost as if he was bored, like fucking you with his hand in public was an all too boring affair.

Mundane.

Little to nothing coming out of it for him. But in that moment you didn’t care as the coil within began to wind again.

“Fuck.”

Michael leant forward, his lips beside your ear so that you could hear him clearly, “You’re going to cum on my hand in this disgusting little pub like the dumb, desperate, little slut that you are, and then you’re going to thank me for it. Understood?”

“Yes.” You whined, hand gripping his wrist as it pummelled into you, thumb brutally swiping your clit as his fingers brushed over the sensitive patch inside of you over and over.

“You’re close already, aren’t you?” His lips brushed your neck, causing a shiver to roll through you.

“Fuck. Y-yes.”

Michael leant forward, his lips brushing against the skin beneath your ear, his sharp nose nuzzling into your hair before he bit down on you roughly, causing you to gasp. To anyone else in the pub it would have looked like an intimate gesture, a man trying to whisper something sweet into his dates ear, but to you, it was damning.

You were so close, so so close, and all it took was four little words to send you over the edge. Michaels tongue lapped at where he had bit you before he came back to your ear one last time.

“I own you now.”

Pleasure erupted through you, your release bursting from within. You jerked in your chair against him, tucking your head into the side of your neck as you hid your face, grinding down onto his had as you whimpered. Michael plucked pleasure from deep within you, his hand not once slowing, prolonging your orgasm. It was only when it began to subside did his hand slow as you breathed raggedly against his neck, slumped into your chair and against him.

Your heart thumped against your ribs as you panted, and gently Gavey withdrew his fingers from within you, a wince falling from your lips from oversensitivity before he pulled your panties back into place.

Michael cooed you gently, “Good job.” Almost inaudible in the loud of the pub, “So good f’me.”

Fatigue washed over you like a wave, crashing into you so fiercely that you didn’t have the strength to sit up yet. You were fucked out, mind thinking of absolutely nothing as you nuzzled your face into his neck further, breathing in his scent.

“Hm,” Michael hummed, “You still with us?”

You hummed back in reply dreamily, only moving back when Michael pulled you away, watching you with half lidded gaze as he looked over your disheveled form. Michael laughed again, eyes crinkling in the corners as he brushed his hand against your cheek. Your first thought was how pretty he was when he smiled, and then you felt the wetness of your slick clinging to your skin crudely.

With a curious touch, Michael moved his fingers across your lips, the taste of yourself tart and warm as he caressed you. You opened your mouth for him and let his fingers inside, immediately tasting yourself as he rubbed his digits against your tongue slowly as you held your mouth open for him, drool beginning to pool at your bottom lip.

“Such a good little girl for me, aren’t you?”

You nodded lazily, small smile flicking at the edges of your lips. Michael pulled his fingers from your mouth and used his thumb to smear the saliva that had pooled at your bottom lip over lips messily.

He tutted, “Dirty girl.”

“Mmm.” You hummed in content.

Michael eyed your half drank drink, nodding towards it, “Finish it.”

You did as he bid, brining it to your lips as you kept your eyes on him, swallowing it quickly before placing the glass back on the table, a warm fuzzy feeling slipping over you, a little space that was warm and safe and cozy. Then Michael stood, rather abruptly, like he had remembered that he forgot to turn the stove off, chair hitting the wall behind him as he looked down below at you.

“Time to go.”

You stood, on shaky legs to follow, adjusting your skirt sheepishly, knowing that there would be a damp patch at the back but not caring enough to hide it. In a way, you wanted people to know what had happened, and in some ways your wish had come true.

A table in the middle of the pub nearby had half of its eyes on you, whispers and smirks shared amongst one another, watching as Michael grabbed your hand to lead you through the crowd roughly. Wolf whistles and hoot’s were called after you, followed by rambunctious laughter. You weren’t sure if they had seen what was happening under the table, but you were sure they had seen his fingers in your mouth.

The door to the pub was swung open as Michael pulled you out sluggishly behind him. As you stood in the crisp air he spun you abruptly, grabbing your face as he pressed his lips to yours, his tongue immediately swiping against yours, trying to taste your essence that lingered there. Michael groaned into the kiss, pressing his body against you, where finally you could feel how much what had transpired had affected him. He pulled back, restraining himself as his sharp nose bumped into yours as he moved.

And then he was gone, stepping away from you as he began to walk away. You stood dumbfounded as you watched him, snow beginning to fall from the sky.

Do you go after him? Was this it? Did he just use you in the pub only to humiliate you out the front?

A wave of confusion and hurt washed over you, but before it could turn to anger, he stopped and faced you again, a soft smirk on his lips.

“You coming? You said anything.”

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to any tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! <3

Taglist: @magnificentdelusionr @twglitching @fan-goddess @mydemimonde @itsshizyne @4v1d-m3t4l-3nj0y3r @liv-cole @lcecgg @sepherinaspoppies @marihoneywk @trashy-panda777 @bellaisasleep

#Michael Gavey x reader #Michael Gavey x y/n #Michael Gavey #Saltburn #michael Gavey fanfic #michael Gavey smut #Saltburn fanfic #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey x you #michael gavey smut #michael gavey fic #michael gavey #ewan mitchell #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fic #michael gavey fanfic #Michael gavey oneshot #saltburn #michael gavey saltburn

772 notes · View notes