#FORGET ME GIVE HIM TO MILES
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i swear to jesus, his mother and all the angels in fecking heaven if ONE more alex turner x reader oneshot comes up on my feed i'm going to go BALLISTIC. that man does not need me, he needs a lad sculpted by the gods with incredible guitar skills to throw him around till the sun comes up. preferably by the name of miles kane.
#the perils of following the alex turner tag#im not your target audience babes. ive got an otherworldly obsession with bands and their homoerotic tendancies.#FORGET ME GIVE HIM TO MILES#i wouldnt know what to bloody do with him!#so youre telling me if you were alone in a room with that man you wouldnt just stare at him like something in a museum and idk.#maybe ask him a few very important questions about a few very interesting songs like catapult and the jewellers hands and golden trunks??#anyway#milex forever#milex#alex turner
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concept, cause the dynamics at play would be super interesting:
when Tuk and Neytiri are sucked into the hold of the Seadragon, what if Spider, unwilling to watch another one of this baby siblings, nor his siblings mother (despite everything cause he's a good kid), die without doing anything, jumps in after them?
they're now stuck in a flooding ship, spider knows his way around to a decent extent, they're all tired, they're all scared, they're all hurting. they have to depend on each other for survival.
Neytiri has to not only trust Spider, but has to follow his lead, has to trust him to guide her around a demon ship, has to untrust not only her own life, but the life of her youngest child to this boy.
Maybe they're separated, they have to find one another (my personal favorite scenario is that Tuk and Spider are together and he has to try and find her/guide Neytiri to him)
Spider taking Neytiri and Tuk's arms so they aren't separated by stray currents and raging waters (a parallel to "Sully's stick together"). Spider talking them through the breath holds he learned as a kid in case his mask malfunctioned before bringing them through the depths of the submerged ship (parallel to Jake and Lo'ak)
anyway. I just can't stop thinking about it. think about it.
Neytiri is faced with the fact that Spider jumped in after her and Tuk. he came for them, he put himself in danger to save them, to save her daughter. even after what she did to him. even after she held a knife to him, after she cut him, after she intended to kill him even after Kiri was released. he still jumped to her aid, even if he could have stayed with Kiri above deck where he was safe, he could have just aided Tuk and left her behind, but he didn't.
and there's so many ways to play with it and the aftermath. like.
Spider dragging both Tuk and Neytiri up the surface, trying his best to keep the trio afloat (namely Neytiri who was much less adjusted to the water and is exhausted by the night they've had) as they hope and pray to be reunited with the rest of their family.
maybe the stress gets to them and Spider just starts apologizing. I should have fought them harder. I shouldn't have let Lo'ak and Neteyam try and leave with me, I would have been fine. I should have seen it coming, should have taken it myself. it should have been me. my baby brother shouldn't be dead.
maybe he becomes partly delirious as he too gives into exhaustion, the big brother in him being the only part of him left coherent, so he takes Tuk close, whispering prrnen tsmuke [baby sister] over and over into her braids, assuring himself that she's safe and unharmed. he keeps praying to the Great Mother for his siblings to return to him unharmed. maybe he keeps asking where they are, if they're safe as his awareness fades and his memory weakens. all of his siblings. asking if Neteyam is ok, only to remember he's gone the second the words leave his tongue.
Jake and Lo'ak finding them when they come up with Payakan, both worse for wear, exhausted, clinging to one another, the only thing keeping their heads above water being spiders life vest, Tuk cradled between them. what a sight.
Neytiri watching as Spider looks over each of his siblings, taking them close, holding onto them as if they will be ripped away from him. the realization that he would die before he let that happen again hitting her like a ton of bricks the second she sees the look in his eyes.
a peace being made between the two in the wake of this event. spider silently claiming the role of big brother (he always was, but he had to pretend he wasn't. with Neteyam gone, he can't pretend he's not anymore), Neytiri silently agreeing.
idk man. it would be interesting.
#listen#I love them both so much#I just wanna give them both kisses on the head and a warm blanket and some peace and fucking quiet#Tuk too. my baby girl. oml#and I love putting them in Situations that test all of the patience and sanity that remains with them#its Fun âșïž#(for me at least)#(they probably wouldn't agree)#forget about kiri for a moment. I love her. but I need her to play with her fishies (lovingly) and not interupt my favorite disaster duo#(trio if you count Tuk)#also. um. either Q's dead dead or be woke up from his little nap and dragged himself out of the boat. cause spidey ain't getting the chance#to find his ass in this situation. he's a bit busy being in a situation with the women who just tried to kill him.#đđ#idc if this ooc. I'm living my best delulu life. I haven't slept in days and these scenario is haunting my every thought.#avatar 2#avatar the way of water#spider socorro#miles spider socorro#miles socorro#neytiri#neytiri te tskaha mo'at'ite#neytiri sully#tuk#tuk tuk#tuktirey#tuktirey te suli neytiri'ite#atwow
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Just found out that people are âdad/mom of the groupâ-ifying Miguel and Jessica
#across the spiderverse#astv#Iâm sorry but#did you not see HIM GET ON ALL FUCKING FOURS AND CHASE MILES??#TEAR INTO FUCKING FUTURISTIC SPACE WORTHY METAL?? TO CATCH HIM??#bro is an abusive father figure#also I can tell when yâall are used to tortured mc fandoms#cuz yâall get an mc that has a strong 2 parent household and go#butâŠwhereâs your REAL family? yk the ones you found after your trauma?? wdym you only need one mom???#also Jessica IMMEDIATELY goes âwhatđŠâ when Gwen asked to adopt her#she is NOT a mammy and yâall will have to kill me b4 I let yâall do that to her#miguel o'hara#jessica drew#idk what I expected tho yâall give more of a fuck to random side character than the actual main character#so much so that you forget the plot was abt hmm idk VALUING HIS BLOOD FAMILY OVR HeRoShiP and cAnON eVeNts#also I love using this dramatic ass image for a minor gripeđ
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Hope They Catch Us - G.S.
Synopsis. When youâre on-screen, itâs always a rivalry to see whoâs best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.
Pairing. Actor! Gojo Satoru x Co-Star! Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, co-stars to lovers, unprotected, oral (fem receiving) slight exhĂbitionism (stuff with cameras), marking, praise, Satoru is actually down BAD, cĂșmplay, tabloids, lowkey fluffy at the end, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.5k
A/N. YA GIRL IS BACKKKK ;D Also happy belated three months to this blog hehehe.
Lights, Camera, Drama: Gojo Satoru and Leading Ladyâs Off-Screen Feud to SINK Box Office Darling?
âTheyâll Kill Each Other!â Insider Source Spills All on the Royal Rivalry Between Hollywoodâs Hottest Bachelor and Bachelorette.
Enemies of The Century or Publicity Stunt? Recent Cast Outings Sets Fans Speculating!
---
You hated him. Oh, how you hated him. All because of a red-hot rivalry that had sparked ever since the two of you took the industry by storm. And everyone from Hollywoodâs bigshots to your adoring fans knew that no matter where Gojo Satoru goes, you were sure to never be within a ten-mile radius.Â
Well, usually.Â
âIâŠshit- Iâm in love with you.âÂ
Because avoiding Gojo like a plague really isnât saying much when said plague was currently sitting right next to you. Eyes boring into yours, signature smirk plastered on his face while he rattles off a disgustingly sweet confession - all on the set of your latest movie.Â
Somehow, in a cruel twist of fate, your co-star.Â
And to add insult to injury, this wasnât just any movie - it was only set to be the biggest romance film of the summer. So not only did you hate to tolerate Gojo, you had to pretend to be in love with him.Â
Perfect. Great. Wonderful. If only the check wasnât as tempting as it was, you think he wouldâve successfully driven you to an aneurysm already. Especially considering that the scene tomorrow was-
âCUT!âÂ
That snaps you out of your little reverie, bringing you back to the still very ongoing film shooting. You risk a glance at the disgruntled director, cheeks aching from the sappy fake smile you had to hold for this scene.
âSomething wrong?â you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. You knew exactly what was wrong. And one look at Gojo - dressed to the nines and huffing sulkily at being interrupted in the middle of his monologue - told you that he did as well.
âIt just doesnât feel real.â The director shuffles his script, voice dropping to a sigh at your confused gazes. âThe spark, it doesn't feel real.â
âWhat?â you silently thank your years of acting for keeping your voice steady. You squirm in your seat the longer the silence stretches. This cozy little cafĂ© they rented out too tight, Gojoâs fingers intertwined with yours too hot. Too soft.Â
âCâmon. You are in the perfect romantic set-up.â the other man gestures wearily at the cafĂ©, at the dim-lighting and the proximity of your seats. âSo why do you two look like you want to just- strangle each other?â
âOoo kinky~â
Itâs the first time Gojoâs spoken up since the scene was ended early and honestly that was enough to have you fulfilling the directorâs suspicions.Â
âThat.â you give him a pointed stare. âThat is probably why.â
And that just draws out such an infuriatingly light chuckle from Gojo, as he sprawls all over his chair with the audacity of someone that owned this entire set. âLighten up. Youâve told us, nâ in the next take Iâll fix it. Easy peasy.â
If only it was that âeasy peasyâ. The director was anything but satisfied, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. âItâs not just me, even the public is worried whether your âfeudâ will get in the way of such intimate scenes. You-â he jabs a finger your way. â-better pretend like you want to kiss him senseless and you-â whirling now to Gojo. â-better act like youâve wanted nothing more for years- Not to mention tomorrowâs sex scene-â
Ah, right. The sex scene.Â
How could you forget? It might not be a walk in the park to giggle and make heart-eyes at Gojo, but to actually pretend to have sex with him? All on camera? Curse whoever wrote this damn script. You couldâve almost laughed at the universeâs absolutely awful sense of humor if it hadnât been for your paycheck - and the next words that tumble out of Gojoâs pretty mouth.Â
âWeâll ace it, you just watch.âÂ
You hurriedly snap your eyes to meet Gojoâs, sending him a look that says âbehaveâ, in a way that very much makes him not want to. Twinkling with such dangerous mischief that makes your stomach flip as he hums, âOr- Iâll ace it.â
God, was it a battle to remain professional. The only thing stopping you from snapping back being the way he squeezes your hand mockingly reassuringly - to which you send him a death grip back, of course.Â
âOh? Care to elaborate, Mr. Gojo?â the director asks, eyes flitting between the two of you. And you canât even laugh at the rest of the staff for almost toppling out of their seats in an attempt to hear his answer - because you are, too. Mind whirling as you lean closer, wondering just what nonsense would come out of Gojoâs mouth.Â
âWell, you could sayâŠâ he trails off suspensefully, like the smug bastard he is. Looking right in your eyes as he flashes an unfairly pretty smile your way. âIâm irresistible like that.â
Exactly the type of nonsense that would come out of Gojo Satoru, of course. And one glance at the director told you he was thinking the same thing. He was going to be the death of you. You canât help but breathe out shrilly, âYou fucking-â
âMy apologies, director, but our leads have a scheduled interview soon. Rest assured, we will be early on set for filming tomorrow.â
You were definitely giving Nanami a raise after this.Â
Because if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under and youâd be dancing on his grace already - and you let him know. A little over twenty times, actually, as the both of you are hastily escorted away from the set for an âemergency interviewâ.Â
It was a flimsy excuse, you both knew, but Nanami hadnât exactly felt like cleaning up a crime scene today. Instead, settling for a swift escape, the director calling out after you two to âLook like youâre gonna rip the clothes off each other tomorrow.â
Rip the clothes off each other, huh?
With the way things were going, you couldnât be surprised if you ripped him a new-
âCâmon, sweetheart~â Gojo gets out through giggles, that familiar cackle echoing in the narrow hallway leading to your trailer. âYâknow I was just having a little fun with that olâ man.â
He saunters unhurriedly behind your brisk pace, easily blocking the way you swing the door shut in his face. Letting it shut with such infuriatingly smooth nonchalance.Â
âFun?â you scoff, jabbing an accusing finger right in the middle of his sculpted chest.âDo you even realize the mess you couldâve made?â
âEasy there, mânot insured for these pecs just yet.â Gojo clasps your hands together. Some strange little part of your skin burning at the touch in- anger? Something else? But you donât think too hard about it, because heâs plowing on, âBesides, a little teasing never hurt anyone.â
Such a shame he was so pretty with the stupidest mouth.
âA little teasing? You practically declared to everyone in that room that weâre gonna fuck this up.â you move to pull him down by the collar instead, clearly unimpressed.
But oh you shouldnât have done that - because heâs so close now. Too close. Hot breath fanning your face, looking so smug as he murmurs unrepentantly, âDo you?â Chuckling lightly at your little head tilt, âDo you think weâll fuck it up?â
You clench your jaw, trying to keep it all together. â...No.â
âExactly. Weâre good then.â he winks.Â
âNo. Weâre not fucking âgoodâ.â you grit out. Wondering exactly how difficult it might be to bother the director into completely recasting the male lead for the movie. Looking up at that million dollar smile and- yeah, it would be very difficult. âYouâre so insufferable. I donât know why they cast you.âÂ
âMy good looks? My charisma? The way Iâm the-â he trails off with a sigh at your glare. âWell, youâre not exactly a ray of sunshine, sweetheart.â
âAt least I can act and-.â
He whines dramatically, cutting off your rant. âMe too!âÂ
This conversation was so ridiculous - but, hey, the great Gojo Satoru always did bring out the worst parts of you.Â
âNuh uh.âÂ
âYuh uh.âÂ
âThen why are you so stiff when acting like youâre in love with me?â
Somehow, that makes Gojo shut up. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water - gasping out a strangled little, âB-because- well-â And if you didnât know any better youâd say that was a light blush dusting his ears.
Only for a split-second, though, because heâs grabbing you gently by your shoulders, more seriously than youâd ever seen him. âFine. Listen, we both want the same thing right? To have pretend-sex and ace this film to win like five Oscars?â
And maybe at the heat of his newfound proximity, maybe at the way he was looking at you so goddamn intensely - you feel something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Swallowing thickly, you manage to get out, âIâll be the one winning the Oscars...but yes.â
Gojoâs gaze roams all over you - from the quirk of your eyebrow to the dress hugging you so sinfully tight. âThen weâll do it. Ace the scene.â
Traitorously, a shiver runs down your spine. And because the universe loves to play jokes on you, Gojo notices - of course, he does. Eyes lighting up with amusement and something you really didnât want to decipher as you blink up questioningly, âHow?â
âMethod acting, silly.â he rolls his eyes, as if he wasnât implying something that wasnât seen in even the cheesiest of romcoms. âThink of it as running lines.â
If there was ever a moment where your life flashed behind your eyes then this just might be it.Â
âYou-â you gulp, so hot all over. âYou better shut the fuck up and pray your face is insured because-â
At this, Gojo throws his head back and laughs - loud and boisterous. And usually youâd have a thing or two to say about keeping his voice down so as not to let anyone outside hear, but shit you were mesmerized. Damn, a weird little part of you kind of understood why directors loved him onscreen.Â
âFeisty,â he muses. âBut how can I shut the fuck up when theyâre second-guessing the two best actors in the game?âÂ
âThe best? Me, maybe.â you lean in closer, mouth as bitchy as ever - even when youâre so obviously crumbling bit by bit under his gaze. And he knew that. âBut not you.â
âWell, only way to find out is with tomorrowâs scene, right, sweetheart?âÂ
He drove you mad - everything from his heady cologne, to the way that overpriced button-up clung to him like second skin. But, donât pull away - how could you? Not when he inches closer ever-so-slightly. Not when he lets those overpriced glasses slide down his nose, eyes locked so heavily on you.
Fighting to keep your words steady, âThereâs nothing special about that scene, just fake moan in front of the camera, right? We donât need anyâŠâmethod actingâ.â
Gojo only raises a brow in amusement, lips curling into a grin that really makes you too aware of his little dimple by the corner. âThen whyâŠâ His eyes flicker down from his hands, searing on your shoulders, to yours - still grabbing his collar, just grazing the soft skin of his neck. Not pulling away. â...canât you let go of me, sweetheart?â
And then youâre kissing him - or maybe heâs kissing you, you really donât give a fuck. The only thing running through your mind being that shit this was Gojo bane-of-your-existence Satoru, and he tasted soâŠsweet. Like those cheap lollipops he often snuck on-set. Strawberry, you think.
But you donât get to confirm, because suddenly heâs pulling away mere millimeters. Whispering hotly, absolutely dripping with something dangerous, âSooo, is that a âyesâ to running lines?â
âUgh, shut up.â your lips ghost his. âAnd just fucking kiss me.â
And, well, Gojo doesnât have to be asked twice. Because it only takes a split second for his lips to find yours again.Â
Yeah, definitely strawberry lollipops.
You hadnât filmed any of the kissing scenes just yet, but damn you didnât expect him to be so hot and messy - like he was drunk off of you. Licking at the seam of your candied lips, groaning softly like he wanted more more more-
âSh-shit, Goj-âÂ
âCall me âSatoruâ when weâre fucking.â he cuts you off. âOr, my bad. When weâre ârunning linesâ.âÂ
Shameless. Though, you guess you werenât any better - not as you press yourself closer running your hands all over his sinfully thin shirt, feeling every bump and curve of his abs. âYou talk too much, Toru.â you hiss, muffled against his lips.Â
Oh that cute lilâ nickname had all the blood rushing to Satoruâs cock, you were so unfair.Â
âYou little minx.â Like a little punishment, heâs biting down on your bottom lip, tugging lightly at your surprised squeal. âYouâre gonna regret that.â
âHmm, I doubt it.â
And then your back is hitting the couch before you can react, bouncing lightly at the sheer force. And youâre so swept up in him - the way he hovers over you, arms looping around your waist, his knee wedging between your legs - that it almost hurts for you to pull away.
âPatience.â you huff out a laugh at Satoruâs disappointed whine, eyeing those pretty pink lips mere inches away from you. You just wanted them on yours. So badly. But no, there was something more important you had to do right now. âJusâ thought we should record our little rehearsal, whaddaya think?â
âRecord it?â
âRecord it.â
âRecord it, hmmm?â heâs whispering, more to himself than you. Fumbling with the zipper of your dress. âSo youâre sayinâ we tape it, let the camera see how pretty you look all fallinâ apart fâme.â Kissing down your neck, letting the flimsy fabric fall down, âNâ then we improve for the pretend sex. Shut all those snobby directors up by giving them the best fucking sex scene theyâve ever seen.â
âY-yes?â you mutter, as he starts tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra, clearly having way too much fun with this. âUnless-â
âFine by me.â
The fabric hits the floor before you even realize whatâs happening. Head spinning too much from the idea of being fucked on camera - by Satoru of all people, it takes you a second to realize that this bastard fucking ripped your dress off.Â
âYou probably broke-âÂ
âIâll buy you a new one.â muffled, as he kisses down your navel, blindly fumbling with his phone.Â
âIt was expensive.â
With an impatient sigh, Satoru sets the camera up on the coffee table beside the couch. âFive new ones.â Angling it just right to perfectly capture you - in all your disheveled, horny glory, and Satoru, smugly seating himself between your thighs.Â
âReady?â he asks, finger hovering over that damn red button.
Well, itâs just for rehearsal, right? Right?Â
âDo it.â you manage to get out, voice getting stuck in your throat at the faint ding! that rings throughout the heady room. âFor my Oscars?â
âFor my Oscars. Nâthe cameraâs gonna know.â
And whatever retort on the tip of your tongue dies when he rocks his hip against yours, grinding his cock against your soaked panties. Rock-hard and so damp with precum already - so big that any and all rational thinking flies out the window.
Which is probably why youâre letting out such a pretty gasp, âS-Satoru, I want-â
âWhat?â And Satoru only flashes you a devilish grin, hands spreading your legs as far as theyâd go on the couch. âThis?â
He licks a long, long stripe up your inner thigh, all the way till he just meets the hem of your drenched panties. Teasing. So hot and depraved in the way he breathes in your scent.Â
âOh fuck, sweetheart.â Satoru grunts, looking down in awe at the damp fabric, so flimsy and see-through with your sweet juices. You slick beading through so sloppily, just a hint of the state you were in. âYou donât know how you drive me mad.â
Rip!Â
Heâs so fucking starved that heâs just tearing your poor panties clean off. Throwing them behind him to God-knows-where before spreading your swollen folds with his thumb, showing off just how wet you were for him.Â
âYouâre a tease.â
âAnd youâre fucking addictive. Look how fuckinâ wet you are. For who, huh?â he slurs, breath hot against your cunt. Circling your entrance just barely with his fingertip, teasing you like he was addicted to those frustrated moans coming out of your pretty lips.Â
âSâfor you-â you whine, âAll for you, Satoru.â
âExactly what I wanted to hear.â
And thatâs all that needs to be said before heâs burying himself nose-deep. Drunk off your pussy as he licks long, languid movements. And it wasnât enough - never might be, actually, because only one taste and Satoru was like a man possessed.Â
Bullying his tongue between your folds, just dipping into your sloppy hole in a way that had your slick smearing all over his pretty face. Letting out such deep groans that had you clenching around his hot tongue.Â
Shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut up the great Gojo Satoru then you wouldâve done it a lot sooner. Because for one in his life, Satoruâs too entranced with something else to run his mouth, so fucking satisfied between your thighs.Â
âFuck- hah- think I like you better w-when hngh- youâre like this, Toru.â you purr, breath hitching as he bullies his tongue between your folds.Â
Maybe you were an idiot - maybe you were a genius, because that only sets him off more.Â
And suddenly Satoruâs pulling your body closer onto his hot mouth, like you were weighless. Pushing himself so impossibly closer while he makes out deeper with your wet cunt.Â
âAh! Hngh- Satoru-â you keen, tugging at his soft locks. As delirious as Satoru was pussydrunk. Drinking in all your cute lilâ whines of his name, angling your hips to lick all over like he couldnât decide between fucking your sloppy hole or toying with your poor, ravaged clit.Â
âMhm?â he murmurs, the vibrations making you squeal. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. âYa like this?â Stretching you out on his tongue, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over- âLike when I tonguefuck your pretty pussy?â
âNgh- love it- sâgood. Ah fillinâ me up sâgood.â you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Satoruâs tongue.Â
And oh Satoru thinks he wouldnât mind being on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. âTell the camera too, sweetheart. Practice how youâll come around my tongue.â
Those words send a jolt up your spine - or maybe it was the way Satoru was sucking harshly on your clit. âF-fuck off.â
âMhmmm, nâ this is why Iâm the better actor..â
Ugh, this fucker. And with that you fight to turn your head - looking right in the camera. Feeling so fucking lewd as you let out such pornographic moans.
âYeah- feel sâgood.â you whimper, âWanted this for so long, ever since I first saw- ngh- you-â
And shit were you so fucking evil - at least warn a guy! Because that has Satoruâs heart lurching, almost jumping up from between your legs before it hits him with a pang - ah, right, you were just quoting your characterâs lines. Of course.
Well, two can play that game.
âYeah?â he mutters into your folds. Two fingers plunging knuckle-deep in your pussy, massaging your plushy walls. Roaming around for that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so deliciously. âCanât believe I waited sâfucking long. Yâknow how hard it was to hold back? With you wearing all those slutty skirts fâme?â
Your body is jerking violently, both at his - practiced - words, and the way he was devouring you like you were his favorite meal. His favorite taste.
So eager and in-character with the way he was setting such a dizzying pace on your poor cunt. Slick trailing down from his fingers, all the way to his wrist. So sloppy and- Pressing down. Hard. âFound it.â
And you can only sit there and take it, such cute little whines of Satoruâs name leaving you as he leaves no mercy. Jaw grinding deeper and deeper, maddening. Aching as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over. And you were so-
âClose?â Satoruâs grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Truthfully, he didnât even have to ask - if the way you were trembling and squeezing so fucking tightly around him was anything to go by. âGo on darling. scream my name. Show off fâthe camera like you do best.â
âSh-shit. Toru- fuck yes-â youâve got an iron-tight grip on his hair now, pulling and angling him as you pleased for more. Barely able to let out those strained lilâ moans, definitely not with the way heâs dragging your sloppy pussy all over his face. Fingers cramping up from how rough he was going - but still not stopping.Â
âGo on. Cum fâme.â
And then you are. Letting out such a teary, strangled moan of Satoruâs name as you cum all over his face.Â
And itâs not just for the camera either - because this orgasm is probably the best one youâve had in a while. So hard that you donât even realize youâre arching and rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Using him.Â
And he doesnât stop you. Why would he? You were so pretty falling apart all because of him. He wishes he could see this more oftenâŠ
âS-Satoru.â you mewl, overstimulated. Jolting with each flick of his tongue, trying to close your legs but you canât - he wonât let you. Greedily lapping up all your sweet juices, everything that you give him.Â
âNope.â he drawls, finally pulling away, delicate strings of your slick snapping as he does. Looking so fucking drunk off of you that it makes your cunt quiver exhaustedly. âCâmon now, sweetheart, you were sâpposed to say my characterâs name. Sâhow the scene goes.â
Oh. Shit, you got too caught up. But one look at Satoru - eyes half-lidded, hair disheveled, your juices glistening all over the bottom half of his face so prettily - tells you he was much the same.Â
âWellâŠâ you huff, voice shot. âAccording to the script you were supposed to stuff that-â pointedly eyeing the achingly hard cock straining his pants, â-in my mouth first before eating me out. So here we are.â
With a chuckle, he rises slowly. âTouchĂ©.â Looking you straight in the eyes - and probably into your very soul - as he pops his fingers into his mouth. One by one. Groaning at the taste of your sweet sweet juices while he sucks them clean. âBut I donât think Iâd last one second with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.â
And it almost makes you want to tease him for it - one of Hollywoodâs biggest It Boys but you canât handle a lilâ blowjob? But all of that gets stuck in your throat as Satoru starts peeling off his shirt ever-so-slowly.Â
Shit, you think. All mouthwatering curves and dips, all the way from his toned, milky shoulders down, down, down to those neat tufts of white peeking out from the hem of his underwear. Sculpted like he was handcrafted so meticulously - a fucking masterpiece, you had to admit.Â
One that made you wish you took a longer look at all those shirtless magazine covers instead of throwing them out. One that had your thighs squeezing in such anticipation.
And Satoru seemed to be admiring you just the same, eyes locked on your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing - so ready for him. Distinctly aware of how pathetically needy you were being in front of the blinking camera, you crane your head to glance at it. Was it really capturing-
âNow now, first rule is to never look at the camera during this scene.â Only for Satoru to squish your cheeks together, forcing you into an embarrassing little pout as he turns you back to face him. âLook at me.â
And oh you canât not look at him.Â
Especially when he tugs his pants down, just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, so fucking long and pretty. Smearing glossy precum all over his abs, flushed your favorite shade of pink, rock-hard and so so angry. Shit, he was so hard it looked like it hurt.Â
âSatoruâŠâ you breathe, legs wrapping around his slutty waist to pull him closer. Only needier despite that little nagging voice wondering how the fuck youâd take his sheer size.
âSweetheart?â
âI remember he didnât do a lot of waiting in the script.â
And God were you right - but Satoru doesnât think he couldâve kept this act of restraint up any longer even if you werenât. Too impatient, too starved, his sanity dancing away from him with each second his fat cock wasnât stuffed inside your pretty cunt.Â
âMhm.â he purrs, one hand reaching down to drag his fat head up and down your slit. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the way your lip wobbles in frustration. Up and down up and up and- âYouâre right.â
And then itâs like something snaps.
Because it only takes a split-second for Satoru to start splitting you apart on his massive cock. Big fat tears pricking at your eyes at the feeling that he was pushing all the way into your lungs.Â
âSh-shit, sâfuckinâ tight-â he lets out a low grunt at the slight resistance, taking everything in him to not just fuck into your snug pussy and use you like his little plaything. âYou gotta hah- relax, pretty girl.â
You needed to relax more - to breathe maybe, just something. You werenât even in the right state to wonder whether that little nickname was in the script - and God was Satoru thankful for that. Because all you can think of is how you never imagined what the bane of your existence would look with his cock stuffed in your dripping cunt - but now that youâve seen it, you think youâll imagine it for many lonely nights to come.Â
âHey, now. Donât get camera-shy just yet.â Satoru gives your ass a playful smack. âAfter all, this is only the best- part-â
Each word is punctuated with shallow, mindless little thrust to fit himself inside your dripping pussy. Such cute lilâ whines leaving your swollen lips that he really canât help but tease you a bit. Leering down at your fucked-out face with a smirk, âOr- my bad. Forgot such a scene would be hard for a rookie.â
Oh, did he know how to press your buttons just right.Â
Because immediately, youâre blinking away the delirious haze in your eyes, voice so adorably shaky - but determined - as you grit out, âBring it on, you B-list wonder.â
Thatâs all that has to be said before heâs finally bottoming out inside you, mercilessly. Inch by fucking inch. You gasp as his twitching balls smack your ass so lewdly, feeling his veins beat in such a slutty lilâ thump! thump! thump! against your heavenly walls.Â
âT-Toru- big- ngh- too fuckinâ big. Mâgonna break mpf-â his lips claim yours. Partially because itâs been way too long since heâs kissed your pretty lips, and partially because Satoru might just cum right then and there if he let you run your mouth.Â
So he lets his hips do the talking instead.Â
Cooing into your mouth at each little ah! ah! ah! every time he stuffed you full of his dick, quick, experimental thrusts to try and find that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so prettily.
âSounds so beautiful, sweetheart.â rocking his hips faster into yours. So hard you were sure heâd leave marks. âNo camera in the world can pick up how fuckinâ perfect ya are. Canât ngh- pick up those cockdrunk lilâ heart eyes.â Angling your chin just so that your sinful expression is caught on camera, âShit do ya even know youâre doing those? Might just make me lose it for real tomorrow. Might just make me sneak you off to the dressing rooms nâ-â Manicured fingers digging into your hips while he fucks you in jagged, purposeful strokes. Hitting that one spot. Hard. âFuck you all over again.â
You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he smugly hits that magical spot over and over-Â
And it was so sloppy - so filthy with the way Satoru still had remnants of your slick all over his lips, matching the way you were soaking his cock. Fingers moving down to draw erratic little patterns on your clit, making it even messier.Â
Close - too close.Â
So, so desperate and debauched.
âCâmon. Show the camera. Tell the camera how much you love it.âÂ
âNgh- f-fuck you.â
âOh? Whoâs fucking who now?â heâs laughing at your absolutely wrecked state. You can feel Satoru twitch inside you as you mumble out such delirious little praises to the camera - were they coherent sentences? Youâll never know, because the next words that fall from his lips have your mind reeling.Â
âGod, mâaddicted to you, my girl.â
âThatâs not- ah- in the script, Toru.â you hiss. Close.Â
âI know. And neither is that.â he leaves such uncharacteristically gentle kisses down your neck. Miles away from the relentless place on your poor, abused pussy, fucking you deeper and rougher every time despite already bottoming out. âDoes it have to be?â
âTh-that doesnât ngh- make sense.â you gasp into his open mouth.Â
âDoesnât have to.â
Maybe itâs the way Satoruâs panting those words against your lips. Or maybe itâs the way heâs looking right in your eyes while he says them - like it would kill him to pull away. Maybe even that fleeting little kiss he leaves against your lips.Â
Because before you know it, youâre cumming and cumming so hard that you wonder whether youâd make it out alive. The only thing you can do is throw your head back and take it, thighs quivering, Satoruâs names spilling from your lips in such broken little whines while he thrusts so sloppy. Once. Twice.Â
âAh- this is gonna have me fallinâ, huh?â And then heâs letting out such a low, muffled moan of your name, filling you up with rope after rope of his cum.Â
What?Â
Itâs so messy - his cum overfilling your poor pussy, spilling out and coating his twitching balls. Shit, you canât even worry about whether it would stain that overpriced couch below you. Not when Satoruâs whispering out sweet- lines from the script?
âFuckinâ beautiful underneath me. Always was.â Hips still fucking into you - not even thinking at this point. âAlways will be. Such a vision onscreen, sweetheart.â So thick and hot, and dribbling all the way down your legs with every movement.
And then Satoruâs lips are finding yours again, tasting so unfairly sweet while he drinks in all your cute breathless gasps. âSuch a vision fâme.â
Those werenât from the script either.
Something soft. Something scary. Something that has you looping your legs tighter around his waist, letting him collapse onto you. Pulling him closer, in fact, because now that you know the weight of his body on yours, it just felt so right.
It takes a moment of silence for you two to catch your breaths, the still rolling camera being the last thing on your minds. Neither willing to speak first, because shit Satoru mightâve gone to countless red carpets and film sets but this - you are what strips him away from all the glamor and fame. Until he was just, well, embarrassingly Satoru.
The Satoru that was now shifting shyly in your arms, trying to get up. âUh- Hell of a way to run lines, huh? Better check the camera nâ see where to impro-â
He might be one of the biggest actors in modern Hollywood, but Satoru didnât fool you - not one bit. So without a word, youâre tugging him back to rest against you. Heart lurching just a little bit as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Like a little hideaway - from the camera, from the world, hell, maybe even from you.
âYâknow,â he flinches ever-so-slightly at your teasing tone, giving you a playful bite. âI have one area of suggestion and it might just be that youâre too good at ârunning linesâ.â
â...Good enough to win those five Oscars?â
âNo.â
âThen guess I better prove it to ya, huh? Is the camera still on, sweetheart?â
Just then, some weird little part of you thinks that, hell, maybe you donât hate Gojo Satoru after all.
Not anymore, at least.Â
---
The Enemies-To-Lovers Trope of The Century?! Hollywoodâs Biggest Rivals Sport Matching Hickeys (And Smiles) On-Set of Upcoming Film.
Oops! Gojo Satoru's Phone Wallpaper Accidentally Exposed: Surprise, Surprise Itâs His Leading Lady! More on Page 6.
âNo Comment. Though, I Have Moved Trailers. Twice.â Anonymous Manager Speaks on Latest Movie Rumors.
Director Is All Smiles As He Raves About Upcoming Romance Movie. âHell, If I Didnât Know Any Better Iâd Say They Were Really-â
A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#tonywrites
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more Dad Things that Bruce Wayne definitely does:
makes the kids hold the flashlight when heâs working on the Batmobile and yells at them when they donât do it right
makes lots of weird gross dad noises (groaning, hacking, etc)
snores like a fucking freight train. like seriously, there should be a noise warning on his bedroom door
snack tax in the car!!! reaches his hand back and does the little grabby thing
âwhen was the last time you changed your oilâ
gives the worst directions
âso youâll pull out of here and go north about three milesâïżœïżœ âwhat the hell are you saying to meâ
gets to the airport five hours before the plane takes off (itâs a private plane, itâs not leaving without him)
this is more of a mom thing, but he gasps like heâs just been stabbed when someone wakes him up
*whispering* âBâŠBâŠBruceâ âHEUEUH. What.â
Texts âCall me now.â and when the kids do, assuming something horrible has happened, heâs like âwhat should we eat for dinner tonight.â
on the other hand, he also forgets to tell the kids very important information
âhowâs it going, B?â ânot much just recovering from my wrist surgery last weekâ âyour WHAT?!â
(that just happened to me. thanks dad)
#versa speaks#batman#bruce wayne#batfan#dick grayson#jason todd#robin#batfam#tim drake#damian wayne#cassandra cain#duke thomas#is this anything
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đđĄđđ'đŹ đđ§ đđđđ°đđđ§
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x F!Reader
Summary: Everyone at HQ was convinced there was something going on between you and Miguel. Just...no one knew what. But one group of spiders were determined to figure it out.
Warnings: None! Just a lot of goofiness and a whole lot of fluff :3
When you have a superhuman with superior senses, theyâre bound to be perceptive to their surroundings. Now when you have an entire lobby the size of multiple football fields filled with superhumans with superior senses, very few things will go unnoticed.
Itâs why people very quickly realize that you and Miguel haveâŠsomething between the two of you. Itâs just that no one is quite sure what.
Camaraderie? Maybe, you were one of the first spiders to join the society.
Friendship? Perhaps, but it was known that Miguel wasnât one to do friends. Not with the amount of loss he has gone through.
A relationship? This one seemed the most unplausible. Miguel was, well, Miguel. Stoick, cold and calculating. Meanwhile, you were you.
You had a light that drew people in, kindness that knew no bounds and warmth like a fire on a cold winterâs day.
Everyone knew the saying âopposites attractâ, but it was like comparing night and day with the two of you. Regardless, a small little group within the society were set on trying to figure the two of you out.
~
âAinât no way the two are together, sheâs too good for him!â Hobie argues, his legs kicked up on the table in front of him.
âI donât know, maybe thatâs why they work together. Because she makes him better?â Miles says, but his tone of voice failed to hide his skepticism.
âI think you should just leave the two of them be. Besides, what happens if you figure it out or not anyway?â Peter says, feeding Mayday as he does. Immediately a chorus of arguments breaks out from the group.
âOKAY! Okay, forget I asked,â he says with a shake of his head, while Mayday just laughs at the commotion.
They spot the two of you walking into the cafeteria making conversation none of them could make out.
âLook at them,â Gwen says, âhave you ever seen the guy happier than he is with her?â she asks, and Hobie snorts.
âCâmon mate, you call that happy? Mans got that frown tattooed on his face, can he even be happy?â he says, but they all continue watching intently.
You glance over to the table they were surrounding, and they all brush off your gaze pretending as though they werenât just studying the two of you like specimens under a microscope.
You wave your hand, a bright smile on your face while Miguel only glances over for a moment before continuing to walk. You jog to catch up to him, grabbing a tray and picking up things you wanted for lunch.
They watch as they see Miguel pick up the empanada, the last one left. He pauses for a split second, holding it before turning to place it on your tray. Almost as though they were straight out of a cartoon, they freeze at the interaction.
You seem to be slightly surprised as you, saying something to him but he only brushes you off before continuing on.
âDidâŠthat just happen?â Pavitr asks. Everyone at HQ was aware of Miguelâs fondness for the food (even if he did hurl one right at Miles when they first met), there was no way he would give one away so easily for just anyone, right?
âSomebody pinch me,â Gwen says, and Hobie jumps at the request.
âOW!â
~
Miguel never lets anyone help him out when heâs injured. That was just a known fact. He could walk into HQ battered and bruised and wouldnât even look in the infirmaryâs direction once. After depending on himself for so long, he wasnât going to stop now. Besides, what were First Aid kits for after all?
The only way he was going to the infirmary was if someone dragged his unconscious body there themselves.
Well, unless you were there.
âMiguel OâHara I swear to god, you better get your ass to the infirmary or so help me I will tie you up and drag you through the halls myself,â you say sternly as you both reemerge in the Lobby. The rest of the Spiders there continued with what they were doing, but their attention was zeroed in on you both.
âIâm fine,â he says, glaring at you as if trying to say âJust tryâ. Had you been anyone else, you would have backed down by now but you didnât.
âYou wanna test me right now? That was a nasty hit, I will not be letting it get infected under my watch,â you retort, and he puffs.
âThis is nothing, Iâve dealt with worse,â he scoffs, and in an instant your finger shoots out, making contact with the side that got hit with the anomalyâs flames. Miguel canât help the sharp intake of breath as the pain from the impact hits him.
Your eyebrow raises, an expression of disbelief on your face before it softens. Murmuring softly, you say something that only he can hear.
For a moment he studies your face before sighing, finally relenting. With a triumphant smile, you place a hand on the manâs broad back, leading him towards the infirmary with a gentle but firm hand.
There, Pavitr is laying in bed recovering from an awry mission of his own. The doctors had ordered bedrest for the next 2 hours at least. Superior healing or not, they were not going to risk it. So there he lay, slinging his golden bangles up and down bored before he hears the two of you come in.
âMr. OâHara-" a doctorâs voice can be heard, but he is quickly interrupted.
âSheâs got it from here,â he says, Miguelâs tone final. A small âyes, sirâ can be heard before footsteps fade away, the doctorâs office door closing once more.
âYou know, you should really let the professionals help you,â your voice can be heard.
âYou dragged me here, you can deal with the consequences,â he says, and you just laugh fondly before your voices quieten, murmuring too quietly for Pavitr to hear.
Curiosity builds as he recalls the conversation he and his friends had, and before he can stop himself he shifts silently to the side, just enough to be able to catch a glimpse of you both from the small gap between the hospital curtain and the wall.
There, Miguel sat on the bed, a disgruntled expression on his face but his eyes were soft as he watched you fuss over his side.
He only watches for a few seconds before pulling away, this being a clear invasion of privacy, and his bossâ privacy no less.
It wasnât going to stop him from telling everyone else though.
~
âThis is a bad idea. This is a really, really bad idea,â Miles says, grasping onto the ceiling like his life depended on it.
âItâs only a bad idea if we get caught, so Shut. Up,â Gwen says sharply, hanging from her place on the ceiling as they watched the fight from above.
Gwen had come up with the mighty fine idea of sneaking into a mission between the two of you. It wasnât often that it happened, Miguel more often than not only went on missions with only Lyla by his side. But when he needed a partner, it was always you.
âWhy did you have to bring me with you,â he whispers, âMiguel already doesnât like me. He doesnât need more of a reason to.â
âBecause I needed backup and you can turn invisible. And letâs be real, Hobie would be laughing his ass off getting us caught, Peter would bring Mayday which would get us caught, and Pavitr is already on a mission, now shhh,â she whispers, turning back to watching the scene below.
You swung from pillar to pillar in the abandoned factory with practiced ease, a carefree laugh escaping your lips as Miguel stands on the ground fiddling with his watch.
âThe anomalyâs last known location was here,â Lylaâs voice echoes out, and you let out a sigh.
âWhy canât villains have easy powers. Maybe a giant blob that is easy to take down? Why do they have to be so complicated? Whatâs this one again, a freaky shadow monster?â you think out loud.
âWhereâs the fun in that?â Miguel retorts, glancing up toward you for a moment before turning back to Lyla. âDo a scan of the place, will you?â
âWhat do we say~â Lyla responds, and you giggle softly while Miguel huffs.
âPlease,â he mutters.
âWhat was that?â
âPlease, Lyla,â he says a little louder now, irritation growing in his voice.
âAlready done,â the AI snickers, and he groans out loud as your laughter bounces off of the walls, a fist held out for Lyla to bump.
âThe two of you will be the death of me,â he says lowly.
âOh, donât be like that, grumps. Youâd be too stubborn to die,â you retort before tensing up, the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the familiar feeling of your heightened senses at work. The moment you sling yourself up is the moment a loud thud sounds out from where you once stood.
âOh, I forgot to mention that the anomaly was in the far right corner,â Lyla says before disappearing.
âI really need to do a rewrite of her code,â Miguel mutters to himself.
In your previous spot emerges a dark figure, plumes of smoke emerging and dissipating from its form and allowing it to disappear into the shadows with ease.
With a simple nod, you get to work. Like a well-oiled machine, you work in practiced synchrony, bounding across the walls and slinging webs.
And just like that the anomaly is captured, the force field around it effectively trapping it for the ride back to HQ so it can be sent back to its own universe.
âThat wasâŠkinda lame,â you snicker, pulling off your mask
âTold you so,â Miguel says as he opens up a portal for you both, dragging the anomaly behind him.
âDonât say that to me,â you pout.
âWhat, canât handle the truth?â he retorts, a smirk playing across his lips as your bickering voices fade through the portal.
ââŠwas that a smile,â Gwen asks as she watches the spot where they both had stood.
âWas that what it was?â Miles asks, a shudder racking through his body.
~
It was late at night at the HQ, and at this time everyone else had already gone back to their own universes. The few that lingered were the ones finishing up after a late-night mission.
Or, you were Peter B. Parker frantically searching through the kitchen for a bottle of milk for Mayday after a playdate with a select few spiders that went on for way longer than expected.
Mayday was an easy baby. Always happy and smiling, but that all disappears when she was hungry and you did not want a spider baby on a rampage.
âAlright, alright, give Daddy a few seconds to warm up your milk please?â Peter pleads as Mayday continues to babble angrily, crawling all over him.
She pauses for a moment, attention drawn elsewhere as she hangs off of her fatherâs back before leaping.
âHey, lil spider!â You say with a laugh, catching her in your arms. âWhat are you doing here so late?â you ask.
âPlaydate with Miles, Gwen and Hobie. Time really flew and she refused to leave until now,â Peter sighs tiredly, and you pat him on the back before putting her up onto your shoulders. âWhat are you doing here so late?â
You shrug, grabbing two mugs from the cupboard.
âWorking late. Like you said, time really flew,â you say, but Peter knew that wasnât the full truth.
âWorking so hard that you need two cups of coffee?â he asks, holding out the bottle for Mayday to take, which is what she does happily as she snuggles up in her fatherâs arms.
âWhat can I say, caffeine doesnât really work on me,â you grin, pouring the coffee from the machine. âGoodnight, Peter, Mayday,â you say, ruffling her red hair fondly.
And as quickly as you appeared, you disappear.
~
People didnât often disturb the big boss man Miguel when he was working. Not if you wanted to stay on his good side.
It was even less often that someone barges into his room full of screens as he monitors the Archno-Humanoid Polymultiverse, let alone a group of them.
âWe heard you talking to someone! And laughing,â Gwen says hesitantly as if she couldnât even believe it herself. But she was invested in figuring out what the deal was between the two of you now.
âWell, do you see anyone around?â Miguel deadpans, his arms wide and gesturing around broadly. You could barely stifle the giggle as you sat on a beam high up on the ceiling, going unnoticed.
âW-well, noâŠBut!â she says, and Miguel raises an eyebrow which makes Gwen shrink in her spot slightly before recovering. âBut we heard you. There was someone here, wasnât there?â
Hobie, ever the perceptive one tracks his eyes along the ceiling before spotting you swinging your legs with an amused look on your face. It seemed as though no one else had noticed though.
Miguel watches Hobie spot you and his eyes narrow in his direction, as if saying âI dare you to say anythingâ to which the spider only raises his hands in mock surrender.
âNo. There wasn't." He says, his tone final. "If thatâs all youâre here for, I have important work to get to. So why donât you go bother someone else, yeah?â
~
âI give up,â Gwen says, slumping in her chair. âWeâre never going to figure it out.â
âFigure what out?â Jess asks, walking up to the group.
âWhether or not there is something going on between those two,â Miles says, nodding towards you and Miguel talking over in the corner of the room.
Jessica only hums, a knowing look in her eyes but she doesnât say anything. Only asks a simple question.
âWhat makes you think so?â
âEveryone here knows that thereâs something there, even if they want to admit it or not. Sheâs one of the few people he tolerates, theyâre together almost all the time and he actually seems happy around her,â Gwen reasons.
âYou could have just asked, you know,â you say, coming up on their conversation with an amused look on your face.
Their expressions range from flustered to simply amused and you canât help the laughter that bubbles up as you make eye contact with Jess.
âAnd to answer the question,â you reach down your suit, pulling out a simple chain with a ring dangling off of the end.
âWeâre actually married.â
The group goes silent for a moment, eyes wide as they stare at the necklace in your hands, trying to process your words.
Then, all hell breaks loose.
A/N: Hehe, I'm quite happy with this one :3 This is my first attempt at writing Miguel, sorry if I butchered him but I am absolutely hyperfixating on him after seeing ATSV in theatres yesterday.
Based on the prompt by @imslightlycreative though slightly changed :)) I hope you all enjoyed <3
Part two out now!! Read it here.
#miguel oâhara x reader#miguel o'hara#across the spider verse spoilers#across the spiderverse#spiderman across the spiderverse#spiderman 2099#spiderman#miguel x reader#miguel ohara x reader#spiderverse x reader#miguel o hara#spiderman 2099 x reader#marvel
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đđĄđ đ°đđđđąđ§đ đ©đĄđšđđšđŹ
Aaron sets the record straight when an overheard conversation convinces you that youâre not good enough for him. 5k
c: fem, hurt/comfort, fluff, suggestive theme (non-graphic implied sex scene). hotch is a good husband. requested here Â
â ËïœĄâàšâĄà§â ËïœĄâ
âHoney, this is Clint McMoore. We went to college together.â
You step into Aaronâs side. Clint McMoore is a handsome older man with silvering hair and a beard that looks out of control. His bowtie is loose around his neck, and his cheeks are blotchy with drink, but Clint smiles at you and offers his hand. âHow do you do?â he asks.Â
âQuite well, thank you.â Youâve been practising fancy dinner talk with Aaronâs friend Emily for weeks. She has all the political background youâd needed to see yourself into the culture. âItâs nice to meet one of Aaronâs school friends.âÂ
âWhile you still can,â Clint says with a chuckle. Something about being in your forties is obscene to these men, as though death waits for fifty candles to snuff them out.Â
âClint and I were in the Student Theatre club together, our first year.â
You grin, smile laced with teasing. Each time youâre reminded of Aaronâs young interest in drama, you have to focus very hard on not laughing; the Aaron who has his hand to your shoulder isnât one you could envision on stage. âDid you perform together?â you ask.Â
âSaturday Night Fever,â Clint says.Â
They laugh and reminisce. You find these sorts of events hard to keep up with, but you come when Aaron asks because he so rarely asks you for anything. He hasnât mentioned knowing that you donât like coming, But perhaps he hasnât noticed âitâs not like you to frown, not when youâre with Aaron. The way he treats you, he probably thinks youâre the happiest girl in the world.Â
Thereâs a contentedness to be found when he touches you. He spreads a hand against your lower back and you let yourself sink into his side, curled into his embrace and amazed at the giggly laugh he lets out as Clint brings up the âKing of the Riverâ tattoo Aaron has hidden beneath his shirt. Youâre tempted to kiss his cheek.
Clint asks, âIsnât that right?â and forces you back into the conversation.Â
Youâre wearing a dress you panicked over for days. Itâs black, cut playfully just above your knees with small petal sleeves. Your necklace is of a delicate chain and a not so delicate pearl âa black Tahitian South Sea pearl that glows pink and green in the light. For you, Aaron wrote, his pretty scrawl inky across a square of scalloped card from atop the box. Iâm in love with you. Forgive me for not having the courage to tell you in person.Â
Your Aaron is quiet. Some days he comes home from work and doesnât manage more than a sentence. Some days he can barely speak at all. But there are nights when he holds you to hold you and talks in murmurs against your ear, and heâs good at making calls when heâs away. Talking or not, smiling or otherwise, Aaron finds a way to let you know he loves you, and thatâs all you care about.Â
âExcuse us,â Aaron says, giving Clint a rare, warm smile, âIâm being flagged by my boss.âÂ
Sure enough, Erin Strauss is beckoning Aaron with a strange pained look.
âNice to meet you,â you say quickly to Clint. He repeats your goodbye, and you and Aaron swerve around him.Â
âHe was nice,â you murmur.Â
âYeah, heâs okay.â
âHow come you fell out of touch?âÂ
âOh, you know how things go, honey, you forget all the people you meet and make room for new ones.â He kisses your cheek. âAnd besides, he used to gossip like my mother. Why donât you go find JJ?âÂ
âYouâll be alright?âÂ
âNo, maybe not.â He squeezes your elbow quickly. âGo, find some hors dâoeuvres, at least.â
You find neither JJ nor finger foods. The gala youâre attending is being held in a hotel in the richest part of D.C, and the events hall is huge. The ceiling is a fantasy, glass and miles upward, overhead chandeliers dangling lower, dousing the crowds below in a light thatâs clean. The rich and powerful gather at the edges of the room, though the performance toward the back of the room is watched by a few tens of couples with flutes of champagne held in gloved hands.Â
You hadnât worn gloves. Hadnât thought about it until you got here. Honestly, you felt grateful enough that JJ texted you to tell you to buy a shawl; if you werenât wearing one youâre sure youâd feel bare.Â
What youâre lacking in fancy is made up for by your earnestness, or so youâd like to believe. You arenât rich nor powerful, but Aaronâs a good man and you his good wife. You work hard, which is more than some of the richest in the room can say. You hold your head high without a second thought.Â
The hall is confusing. Tables are set but you arenât sure Aaron said anything about a dinner service. Wait staff carry silver platters and hold bottles of champagne, but each time you approach one they seem to have already headed in another direction. JJ and Derek are both supposed to be here tonight, but you havenât seen either of them since you arrived. You cast your gaze for Derekâs figure, searching for an easy gait and a strong set of shoulders. You cock your head waiting for a hint of JJâs practised, polite laughter, but any familiar signs are gone. You canât even find Aaron anymore, and your shoes are pinching your toes.
Disaster. You shouldâve listened to Aaron when he told you to size up, just you doubted his knowledge of ladies shoes considering how rarely he wears them. Stupid man, you think to yourself, lovingly yet ruefully as you sit down at one of the uninhabited tables to the very side of the room. Knows everything. Tonight, youâll limp back to the car and he wonât bother saying I told you so, heâs too good for it, which is worse. Heâll give you one of his amused smiles. He might offer you a massage.Â
Ridiculous man, you further to yourself, biting back a cheesy smile as you peel your shoe from a sore foot. If you shove your hand deep enough into the toe you can stretch them out a little.Â
âDarling.âÂ
You look up. Clint McMooreâs resurfaced just a table away with his back to you. A sweet-faced woman with brown hair sits adjacent to him, her shoulder under Clintâs hand.Â
âYouâll never guess who I just bumped into,â he says.Â
Me, you think.Â
âAaron Hotchner and his new wife.âÂ
âYou didnât,â the woman says.Â
âI knew youâd be envious of that,â he laughs. âCharlotte, sheâs unbelievable.âÂ
Your stomach does a strange flip. Heâll say something nice, you insist, but you know his tone is a precursor for gossipy nonsense.Â
âIâve never seen such a mismatched pair,â he says.Â
Charlotte rolls her eyes at him. âWell, what were you expecting? They were married after six months of knowing one another. I couldnât so much as tolerate you until our first anniversary.âÂ
âHardy-har.âÂ
âWhatâs wrong with her, then?â Charlotte asks.Â
âNothing like that, Charlotte. She seemed perfectly pleasantââ
âBut?âÂ
âBut, sheâs nothing like Aaronâs usual woman.âÂ
âHm, I said as much when we saw their wedding photos.â They both laugh. âItâs not like she had much of a chance. First Haley, and then that Beth, the designer, sheâs in Milan nowââ
âHe seems rather besotted, in any case,â Clint says. âVery lady and the tramp.âÂ
âGentleman and the tramp.âÂ
âDonât be cruel, Charlotte.âÂ
You know in a way that Charlotte is kidding, but you boil up with anger the moment you recognise what it is theyâre implying. Then they laugh, and your anger quickly finds itself taking a crueller shape.Â
You slip your foot back into your shoe slowly. Your throat feels dry and then warm, like a crux of smouldering coal stuck in your windpipe as you stand, jerkily, hand stiff where it holds your weight on a silken tablecloth.Â
You blink and stare at the floor. Itâs marble. Itâs shot through with dark veins like a drop of ichor in water.Â
What the fuck?Â
You arenât sure why youâre leaving the hall until youâre walking down the steps of the hotel and turning along the skirts of a hedge. A low brick wall lies in front of it, just short enough to sit on with your heels. Your coccyx stings with the force of how hard you go down.Â
Your head races with hurt feelings.Â
Youâre not unaware of your husbandâs past loves. It comes as no surprise to you that people regard Haley and Beth highly âHaley was extremely beautiful and veritably brave, intelligent, kind-hearted. Beth was funny, Aaron said, and not too much else. Being a designer in Milan hasnât been mentioned before, but itâs impressive. Theyâre both impressive, andâ and his usual woman.Â
You rub the starchy stockings stretched over your knees.Â
What had they meant by usual woman?
Mismatched?Â
It hadnât felt mismatched when Aaron asked you to marry him. It wasnât six months after knowing one another as Clintâs wife suggested, but it wasnât much more than that. He proposed to you after eight months together, and you were married two months later, which is incredibly fast to some people but it just hadn't felt fast when he asked. It was exciting âit still is.Â
âWould you marry me, if I asked you to?â heâd said, some seven months after youâd agreed to be his girlfriend. Your head in his lap, his fingers rubbing at the soft skin of your nape. A sleepy Sunday morning like any other, you suppose that was a proposal in itself, but you hadnât realised that when you murmured, âYeah, handsome. I would.âÂ
You thought it was just love. Making innocuous comments about the future is part of falling in love. Itâs terrifying to tell someone that youâd like to live life in their lap, but you tell them, and they tell you to go ahead if youâre lucky.Â
He asked you to get married a few weeks later. âI had to talk to Jack,â he explained, âor I wouldâve asked you then and there.â
Youâre a wife suddenly, a step-mother, a partner. Aaron wouldâve sold the house and bought you a new one if you wanted him to, but you like his life. Youâve always felt like you fit right in.Â
Angry again, you scrub at your knees with itchy palms and practise how youâre going to tell Aaron about his cruel friend. Gossipy was right, what a lark, and youâre not perfectly pleasant, youâre a delight, you hadnât said one bad word to Clint and you didnât deserve to be whipped and twisted into a bad joke between sips of Cristal.Â
Your eyes burn with the injustice of the thing.Â
Rawness overtakes. A thudding in your chest turns painful, neck wrought with tightness as you hang your head. Hiding from the cold air. November brings with it a promise of chapped lips the longer you stay there, biting into your thighs as your hands turn stiff with disuse.Â
She was unbelievable.Â
âY/N!â The shout is sharp. Youâve never heard Aaronâs voice at that level or with that level of formidability, carrying from the bottom of the hotel stairs. You twist in shock on the wall and watch in real time as his face fills with relief. âHoney,â he says, calling but not half as scary as he jogs to you, âare you alright?âÂ
âWhat?âÂ
âYou scared me,â he insists, bending down to hold your shoulders. âNobodyâs seen you for the last fifteen minutes, sweetheart, we talked about this. You canât just disappear, you left your purse on the table, I thought something happened to you.âÂ
You startle at his scolding. âIââ
âYou should feel my heart.âÂ
âI didnât mean to come out here.âÂ
âI wish you wouldâve let somebody know,â he says. His frown softens slowly, but the concern around his eyes remains. âWhat?â he asks.Â
âSorry.âÂ
His eyes finally soften. âNo, Iâm sorry. Itâs alright, I just worry when youâre not with me.âÂ
âThatâs romantic.âÂ
He holds your cheek, pulling you in, and gives you two gentle kisses. Your lips part instinctively to receive them. âWeâll get our things and go home. It looks as though dinner isnât happening.â He smiles. âWhy were you out here?âÂ
âScavenging for food.âÂ
That gets a laugh out of him, and another nice kiss. âYou tried your best.âÂ
â
Aaron takes you home, and when dinnerâs been cleared away, when youâve showered and heâs undressed, he pulls you toward the bed and kisses you warmly. His eyes track from your face to the tucked corner of your towel, a silent Can I?
You let him take it off. He lays you out, and for a while youâre only his. His wife, his half, his to tease and turn and delight. He says âBeautiful,â against your thigh, says, âHoney, is that okay?â says, âPlease, Iâve got it, I have you, just let me have youâŠâÂ
After, he tells you he loves you, his voice still ever so slightly high in contrast to usual dulcet tones.Â
âI love you, too,â you say.Â
His breath comes fast. Your lap is a mess heâd wiped as clean as he could manage, the memory of him bearing down on you yet to fade. He lies on his stomach beside you with his arm over yours, his face turned into you, his nose on your cheek.Â
âAre you alright?â he asks softly. âYou feel tense.â
âMm.âÂ
âNo, did I hurt you? Youâre rigid.â His hands fret a line down the side of your chest. âYou didnâtâŠâÂ
You hadnât said anything, because he really hadnât hurt you. But the thoughts youâre having now are intrusive âam I okay? you think. Do I measure up? Heâs never made any indication that youâve let him down, not in sex or anything else, but youâre unbelievable.Â
You swallow a lump. âSorry,â you say, the lingering ebbs of pleasure twisting into tears faster than you can stop it.Â
âAre you crying?â he asks under his breath.Â
You suck in a breath as he pushes onto his hands.Â
âThese arenât good tears,â he says.Â
Heâd know. Theyâre not.Â
Aaron reaches over you to turn on the lamp on the nightstand before settling, his hand cupping your waist. Itâs too much suddenly, too bare, heâs too much to look at as you squeeze your eyes closed. âSorry,â you squeeze out.Â
âWhat did I do?â he asks, holding you carefully. âPlease, sweetheart, whatâs hurting? Iâm so sorry.âÂ
âItâs not you.âÂ
âBut something does hurt?âÂ
âNo, no, Iâm okay.â You cover your face with your hands. When you start to sob, it shakes the entire mattress, Aaronâs hand wobbling where it cups your ribs.Â
âPlease.â His thumb works a soft spot into your skin. âHoney, please, you canât cry now without telling me whatâs wrong.â He tries a laugh, but it falls flat. âHoney. Honey.âÂ
It wasnât the sex. He never does anything wrong, heâs so gentle even when he isnât, and if he did youâd only have to tell him, but the rush of being touched by him so nicely, fuck, the way heâd been looking at you, the way he took your face into his hand as he moved âyouâre not trying to be a crier, but he makes you feel like youâre everything and youâre just not.Â
He looks sick.Â
âIt wasnât you, it was at the gala,â you manage.Â
For a long while after, you canât get a word out. You shiver and sob as Aaron scoops you into his chest, his nose in your shoulder waiting for you to calm down. He rubs your waist, fingers parted and waving slowly as he shushes you. Not to make you stop, though. Heâs reassuring.Â
âWhat happened at the gala?â he asks quietly.Â
âItâs so stupid.âÂ
âNo, itâs alright. Can you tell me what happened? Did someone hurt you?âÂ
You wrap your arms around his head. It really is stupid, you feel smaller than an ant under the shadow of a giant heel. Aaron doesnât waver when you struggle to answer, feeling around behind you for a pillow and helping you against it. He kisses your forehead. âLet me get you something to wear.âÂ
You catch his wrist. âIt wasnât you, wasnâtââ You lift your chin.Â
He kisses you. âOkay,â he says simply. âLetâs get dressed.âÂ
He dresses quickly, bringing you underwear and one of your sleep shirts, a loose fit. You shuffle into them and watch him patiently as he cleans the small mess of the evening away. Youâre sniffling softly when he returns to you, sitting with his back to your thighs.Â
âSweetheart, Iâm so sorry if I read things wrong. I never wouldâve initiated anything if I knew you were feeling like this.âÂ
You laugh weakly, worriedly, looking at him through your lashes. âIt made me feel better,â you admit.
âIf this is better, you mustâve been feeling awful.âÂ
You relax as he puts his hand on your thigh.Â
âIn the time I left you to talk to Strauss, something upset you. JJ and Morgan didnât see you. So someone in the gala said something or did something that made you leave. If you tell me who it was, I can make sure it doesnât happen again.âÂ
âYouâre trying to bargain with me,â you mumble.Â
âIâm just telling you what can be done. I can take care of things.âÂ
âItâs nothing⊠nothing so severe. Youâll wonder why Iââ You give an unexpected sob. âMade all this fuss.âÂ
âI donât think Iâll wonder,â he says.Â
You laugh through tears. These ones are slow, your eyes already itchy from crying.Â
âPlease tell me.â He tries teasing instead of sternness, lowering his face to yours. âOr Iâll cry too.âÂ
âAaron.âÂ
âI will. You think I canât, but seeing you crying like this, itâs more than enough ammunition.âÂ
You let out a breath, admitting defeat. âYour friend, Clint? I overheard him with his wife. He didnât have very nice things to say about me.âÂ
âWhat could he possibly have to say?â Aaron asks with a frown.Â
You pull the sheets up your legs. âHe said Iâm⊠unbelievable, and I donât think he meant it kindly. Said that Iâm not your type, and that I⊠I had no chance of measuring up, because of who youâve been with before. They were laughing about our wedding photos.â Your throat feels pressed into by a hot poker. âThey said we were the gentleman and the tramp.âÂ
His eyes squint. He looks disgusted, and for an uncomfortable moment you feel like it might be directed at you, but then he scoffs. âWhat a crock of shit.âÂ
âAaron!â you laugh.Â
âWhat could Clint McMoore possibly know about marriage? This is his fourth wife. And to imply that youâre any sort of calibre below the women Iâve dated before isnât just misogynistic nonsense, itâs not true. You are the most beautiful women Iâve ever met, and whatâs that supposed to mean, gentlemen and the tramp?â He gives you such an earnest glare of confusion that you canât for a second doubt what it is heâs saying. âIâm sorry, honey, I think heâs allowed himself a few too many nightcaps over the years. Perhaps heâs suffered a stroke.âÂ
âAaron, donât say that,â you chide, secretly very pleased.Â
âOur wedding photos,â he says, his hand drifting further down your leg to rest just shy of somewhere more intimate, âare beautiful. You look beautiful. Clint wouldâve writhed in jealousy in the pews if heâd been invited, because he wouldâve seen it for himself.âÂ
âI just sat there while they laughed at me,â you mumble.
âWhat were you supposed to do?â His hand travels out, to your hip, and then he holds you by the waist with both of his hands. They have a way of making you feel encapsulated, big and strong and careful on the bump of your hips.Â
âI donât know.âÂ
âNothing,â he says, meeting your eyes with his usual tender-hearted compassion. âYou werenât supposed to do or say anything.â Aaron appears younger than he is for a second, his eyebrows raised, eyes big and brown as they track over your lips. âHoney, Iâm sorry. I didnât realise he was like that. Iâm sorry you had to hear that.âÂ
âI guess Iâm just worried heâs right.âÂ
âHeâs not right. You are everything to me.â Again, he puts weight on the word, roughly said, like it takes a lot from him to say it. âIâm lucky to have been with women who were beautiful, and intelligent, but if thereâs a question of you measuring up, thereâs no competition. Iâve never been this in love.âÂ
You take a shaky breath. âNever?â you ask.Â
He holds your gaze. âI knew it when we met. That's why I couldnât wait to ask you to marry me.âÂ
âYou said you werenât getting any younger.âÂ
âWell, Iâm not, but not everythingâs about my age, you know,â he says, giving your waist a playful squeeze.Â
âYou said it.âÂ
âI did. That felt easier to say than, if I donât marry you soon I might implode,â âhe shuffles forward, encroaching on your legs and pressing his lips to your cheekâ âwouldâve just,â âhe kisses your cheek, before turning your headâ âwasted all that time waiting for someone elseâs idea of the right time,â âand he kisses the other cheek, his nose skirting up your faceâ âwishing I was your husband when I could just,â âhe smiles into your eyebrow as his hand slips under your shirt, holding your bare backâ âask.âÂ
âIâm glad you asked me.âÂ
Youâd cried then, too, but it was less to do with a rush of adrenaline that knocked you out of balance and more to do with how lovingly heâd taken your hand as he asked. You knew from that moment on that someone was going to take care of you for the rest of your life. Heâs doing it right now.Â
âI love you,â you say, forcing your arms over his shoulders.Â
He pulls you in so much that you lift from the mattress.Â
âI love you. Are you sure it wasnât me that upset you? I have to check.âÂ
âNo. What you did to me wasnât particularly upsetting.âÂ
He laughs. âAre you sure? You can look a little tearyââ
You shush him quickly.
He tips your head to the side to kiss your ear. âMaybe next time, you can tell me about whatever upset you beforehand.âÂ
âAnd you can make me feel even better.â
His laugh is nearly inaudible, but his lips are by the side of your head. You hear it, the warmth of his breath kissing the shell of your ear.Â
â
Aaron likes to see you in your sweatpants. You look nice in everything, especially your dresses for the evening events he often drags you to, but he likes it when you wear sweatpants because it opens a window. Youâve purchased the wrong size, too big and too long, but youâve tied them at the waist and you make do. Youâre wearing the big shirt he helped you into the night before, sitting on the couch with your ferried breakfast.Â
The night before has been washed away, no sign of tears or upset. You have a clean, bright face, one heâd quite like to kiss, or hold, or have pressed to his neck, but none of this is unusual. Your eyes look sore, if he really looks. Heâll make you a compress after breakfast.Â
Dropped off by Jess an hour ago, Jack sits beside you picking at the breakfast tray. Youâre sharing a plate. You donât ever mind.Â
âAre you eating that one?â you ask.Â
Jack immediately nudges half of a chocolate chip pancake your way. âWas the gala fun?âÂ
âUh, sure. Saw your dadâs friends. But they had a weird thing with the caterers and we had to get dinner on the way home.â
âYou couldâve made dad cook.âÂ
âI guess, but we were tired. What did you have for dinner?âÂ
âJess made spicy chicken. It was amazing.â Jack squints at you. âYour eyes are puffy, Y/N. Are you sick?âÂ
âI think I might be a little. Not enough to make you sick too, donât worry.âÂ
Aaron piles the last of the pancakes onto a plate and carries them to you in the living room. âHere, you two.âÂ
âDid you eat?â you ask.Â
He loves you, bending over to kiss your forehead right in the middle. âYes.âÂ
âHow come they didnât have dinner at the gala, dad? I thought that was the whole point,â Jack says.Â
He sits down next to Jack on the couch. You cut a big square of pancake and grin at him, seemingly pleased with your breakfast and Jackâs sense of humour.Â
âIt was a disaster, thatâs all. No food, barely any wine, and terrible, awful company.âÂ
âI thought Miss Jareau went?âÂ
âShe did. But besides her and a handful of others, it was a party for sad old people.âÂ
âAnd you didnât have fun?â Jack asks.Â
You laugh so hard tears gather in the corners of your eyes. Aaron cups Jackâs shoulder, surprised when his son doesnât duck away from the touch. The older he gets the less affection he requires, so itâs nice for Aaron to hug him sideways and be allowed, better that you finish your choking laugh with a hug of your own. âJack, thank you for that. I think you cured whatever illness I had,â you say. Â
âHey,â Aaron says.Â
You run your hand up his neck. Your wedding ring catches against his jaw.Â
âIt was worth going, though, to see your step-mom in her nice dress,â Aaron says, peeling away from Jack so he has room to breathe.Â
Jack turns to you, and his smile is audible, âDo you have any pictures?âÂ
âI didnât take any, sorry.âÂ
âJust think of her now but in a dress, and thatâs how beautiful she looked,â Aaron says.Â
âDad, donât be gross,â Jack says, cutting into the pancakes with his fork.
âItâs not gross, itâs just a fact.â Jack drops pancake down his front. Warm chocolate chips stain his t-shirt. âMissed your mouth, bud. Iâll get a rag.âÂ
Heâs up as quickly as he sat down, running his fingers along your arm and to the palm of your hand, touching you until he canât. He heads back into the kitchen. His phone is beeping on the table, screen flashing with each new text.Â
Penelope: boss, I think the thing you asked for is illegalÂ
Penelope: also, I assume you were kidding?Â
Penelope: so while making it that every link on McMooreâs computer freezes the desktop wouldâve been very very funny, I didnât do thatÂ
Aaron had been kidding, emphatically, because illegal activities arenât his style. It was a sarcastic suggestion, and yet heâs disappointed nonetheless.Â
Penelope: I just signed him up for a bunch of recovering narcissists forums and an email subscription for self help, and maybe also a free online class about manners and etiquetteÂ
Penelope: And I ordered that big canvas for you. It was the one of you guys cutting the cake, right?Â
Aaron texts her back quickly: Thank you, Penelope. I couldnât work out the dimensions online.Â
Penelope: Youâre welcome! I live to serve :DÂ
The canvas will look good in the entryway, Aaron believes. Somewhere you can see it, and remember exactly what it is he thinks of you; his eyes glowing with love where heâd been staring at your face, his hand guided yours atop the knife as he traced your features, and you cut that first, fat slice of cake.Â
â ËïœĄâàšâĄà§â ËïœĄâ
thanks so much for reading! please think about commenting, liking or reblogging if you enjoyed I love knowing what you think!â€ïž
also small note: this fic is in no way meant to diminish haley im a haley supporter usually (these days at least!) and I just didnât mention her for brevityâs sake
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
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TOO MUCH
18+ / mdi
summary: after a few weeks of constant overtime work slouching over a desk, you feel as if your back is about to give out on you. fortunately for you, your best friend seungcheol is a professional masseuse! unfortunately for you, you're unsure of how you'll keep your crush on your best friend at bay while on his massage bed, ass up and oiled up.
content: masseuse!seungcheol, friends to lovers, pining (act surprised), touch-starved reader, inexperienced reader, very uninformed view of what being a masseuse is like oops, afab reader, smut, fingering, oil is involved, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 7.9k
a/n: as someone who's had horrible back pain ever since i was a child, this is based on mostly real events </3 also not 100% proofread
masterlist
support me through a one-time tip! <3
Your back was killing you.
It had been weeks since you'd gotten some proper rest, having made the terrible decision to take on some overtime at work, not knowing that your supervisor would get so used to the extra help she would continue to schedule you more hours week after week, thus destroying your back in the process. You knew that you could simply say no, but the extra money was helpful. You had wanted to start saving up a little more so you could finally move out of your shitty neighborhood, so the situation kind of worked out. The money would also go to paying your student loans, meaning you really couldn't miss this chance for an increase in income. It was kind of a win-win situation, except your poor back was the sole loser.
Your job didn't involve too much movement, no. It was mostly office work, which required you to sit on your hunched back for 10 hours per day, only allotting yourself for three quick 15-minute breaks and a 30 lunch break in which you would still be hunched over as you ate. You knew it was a bad habit, but sitting there for so many hours, you'd forget to sit up straight as you looked into the computer screen, and even if you fixed your posture while working, your back was just not built for standing still for such long periods of time. There was really no saving your back from its stiff fate at this point. These work hours also didn't allow you time to even work out or stretch in order to keep your body at least a little active and maybe prevent your pain a tiny bit.
Your best friend Seungcheol constantly scolded you over your bad posture. It wasn't like you actually had bad posture, okay? You weren't constantly hunched over, nor were you carrying all your weight on your shoulders. This was a recent development resulting directly from your increased work hours. But Seungcheol, being a masseuse, always noticed the slightest changes in your physique, claiming he could spot a sore back from a mile away, with yours being a very obvious case. He could notice your head standing a little lower, digging into your shoulders more and more as the days went by. He also took notice of your constant wincing and your futile attempts at rubbing your own shoulders whenever the soreness got too annoying.
He pitied you, really. He hated seeing you in pain. Being your best friend, he felt it as his duty to try and relieve it in any way he could. On top of having most of your free time being taken over by work, he hated to think that you were also in pain during the few hours you spent away from the office. He had communicated all these concerns to you over the past few weeks, trying to convince you to let him give you a massage in order to relieve the pain, but you'd consistently refused. He was unsure as to why, and being denied a proper reason made him want to keep on insisting until you finally allowed him to rid you of your discomfort.
"One massage won't fix my issues," you'd argued over and over again. To which he simply responded by saying he could just give you a standing appointment every week! He was very insistent on helping you, wanting to relieve you of at least some of the pain. But you were even more insistent in denying him. You were too busy to use up the little bit of free time you had going to the spa Seungcheol worked at. You also didn't think a massage would really be the ultimate solution, despite how badly your sore shoulders begged for relief. Yeah, sure, a massage might alleviate the pain for a bit, but it would simply come back after another week at the office. That, and the fact that the spa Seungcheol worked at was only open during your work hours, meaning you'd have to either haul ass over there during your thirty minute lunch, or take time off. Both were huge no's to you. There were just far too many reasons as to why not take him up on his offer, you argued both to him and yourself. But you knew these were simply excuses. Your main reason had been something you'd kept deep within yourself. You were starving for his touch, but scared of how your body would react to it.
You were generally an averagely touchy person with friends and family. Not overly touchy, but arguably an appropriate amount. It had only been a little over a year or so since you'd begun to feel a bit strange at the lack of intimate touch you'd experienced thus far in your life. While all your friends had experimented and had fun during college, you were a little shier and more reserved, rendering you a bit behind the rest of the herd in that area. It wasn't very noticeable to all. It wasn't like your friends were aware about how sexually frustrated you'd grown over the years due to your lack of experience, but you'd still tried to keep it a secret how unaccustomed you were to more intimate forms of physical touch. Even something as innocent as a massage from a friend. You'd be as touchy as any friend would expect, but still felt a slightly strange sensation when it came to any mention of more intimate activities. You'd somehow grown used to a lack of touch, despite being best friends with the touchiest person alive. You usually avoided being too physically affectionate with Seuncheol anyways, having harbored a small crush on him when you'd first met and wanting to avoid any of your emotions getting in the way of a friendship you treasured so much. You'd known that a massage from the man would be a huge nono, all things considered, which was where all your denials stemmed from.
You had been friends with Seungcheol since college. You had both shared a major, meaning that you kept bumping into each other day after day, attending almost all the same classes freshman year. You had taken a quick liking to each other, befriending one another almost immediately. Despite having had a crush on the man at first sight, you were content with the friendship that had blossomed instead. You'd even ended up joining Seungcheol's little friend group, being friends with most of them even to this day. This unexpected closeness during your first year led you to coordinate your schedules the following three years, thus seeing each other literally every day you were on campus. Even now, having recently graduated college, you were still best friends, meeting up constantly. Despite sharing a major, you both had ended up in drastically different places after college. You had gone for the corporate route while Seungcheol suddenly developed a passion for physical therapy, eventually becoming a massage therapist. At the time, however, he worked at a luxury spa downtown, being known as one of their best masseuses and singlehandedly earning the establishment an increase from a four-star rating to five stars just from the quality of his work alone.
You had visited Seungcheol's work before, quickly deciding it just wasn't your vibe. The place was nice and perfectly polished, but upon seeing a few of the masseuses' skills in action, you realized it'd be better for your friendship if you avoided such intimate contact with one another. Yes, you knew massages were not inherently intimate, but being oiled up and felt up by someone who was as close to you as Seungcheol just didn't ring like a good idea to you. It also didn't help that the massive crush you had on the man in college seemed to be resurfacing as of late. You believed to have gotten over it a few months into senior year, but you didn't want to risk reviving it under any circumstances.
However, despite your constant rejections, Seungcheol continued to beg you to let him take care of your problem, and denying him was something that pained both you and your back. So you now found yourself with two issues; back pain, and a very pouty Seungcheol.
"Fuck, my back is killing me," you repeated for the millionth time in the past five hours since you had woken up. You had intended to enjoy your rare day off, even waking up a little earlier than intended so you could make plans with your roommates, but your plans quickly died on you as soon as you woke up, body stiff as a rock and your soreness worse than ever.
"We get it! You're in pain. So go do something about it!", whined your friend Seungkwan in return, not even bothering to look at you from his phone, "It's bad enough I had to cancel my plans to stay here and take care of you. Just go get oiled up by Cheol and stop making this my problem!"
If there was anything Seungkwan was, it was direct. He was right. Your pain was getting out of hand. And the longer you waited, the worse it would get. Except he didn't know about your calamity to its full extent.
"Listen, I don't even have the money to afford his fancy spa. Have you been there? One day is worth a whole day's pay!"
"Please. It's Seungcheol. He'll get you in for free. Hell, he'll even pay you to go."
"I don't have time to go!", another excuse. A few more and Seungkwan might even begin to crack the code behind your insistent refusal.
He suddenly straightened up from his laid-back position, staring directly in your direction, "All the solutions are there. You're the problem. It's like you want to be in pain! I could literally call him up right now and he'd drop work to come help you. Just get the damn massage!"
This is how a lot of your conversations went lately. Well, the very few conversations you could have nowadays due to your heavy workload. You'd occasionally even have to bring work home even after having been there for half the day. Your eight hours of sleep a night were not even pleasurable anymore, as you felt stiff as a rock the moment you attempted to lay down. The only comfortable stance, ironically, was hunched over in front of a computer. It was like you'd frozen into that pose, feeling immeasurable pain any time you attempted to move any other way. You'd tried pilates, stretches, yoga. Nothing worked. Maybe Cheol's massage really was the only solution, but it'd been so long since you began denying him you now felt a little silly going back on your word. That, and your other obvious issues.
"I'll be fine, Kwan! Just leave. You don't have to take care of me, I just need to lay for a bit."
"You'll lay there all day, I know you. Your life's become a constant state of sleep and work. Maybe you should just quit," he suggested, seemingly moving on from the Cheol topic. Finally.
"Are you crazy? Do you have any idea how much debt I have to pay off? I don't wanna be paying this off for the rest of my life. I'd rather suffer for a few years now and just get it out of the way," you reasoned, although not sounding very reasonable even to yourself. What's the rush?, a voice in the back of your head would sometimes whisper, but you'd just ignore it.
"Fine," he tsk'd. "Rot in your own misery, I'm going out with Kyeom and Soonie. If I come back and you've morphed into a rock, don't say I didn't warn you," and with that, he announced his departure, going forward with the plans you had made with your friends before your back had gotten in the way.
You knew your friend was kidding, but the unbearable pain would sometimes have you wonder. Should you just go to Cheol? What was the worst that could happen of you just let him touch you? His touch would be purely platonic, you were sure of that. But you feared that it would rekindle your feelings even more, and maybe that your high-strung self would not be able to handle such touch from him without finally snapping.
You were weak. This wasn't much of a secret among your friend group, or anyone really. Which is why you now found yourself walking through the doors of Seungcheol's spa. You had spent about an hour rotting in your own misery, as Seungkwan had put it, before deciding to power through your pain and drive down to where you knew Seungcheol was currently working a shift. You hadn't called him, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. You weren't planning on booking a massage today, no. You couldn't have even if you wanted, knowing that the spa Seungcheol worked at was a bit renown in town and that their bookings went weeks back. You had just wanted to give it another try. Maybe visual learning would convince your stubborn self to accept Cheol's help for once.
You entered the establishment, already knowing exactly where to go to find out about Seungcheol's whereabouts. You walked to the receptionist, opening your mouth to ask for assistance before being rudely interrupted.
"Sorry. We're booked for the day. Our next open bookings begin in December. Try again then," the conversation had ended before it began, causing you to close your mouth right back up.
Once more, you opened your mouth to speak, maybe respond in equally passive aggressive tone as the girl had, but you were rudely interrupted once again, except this time it was by a warmer, more welcoming voice.
"Y/N? What are you doing here?", you could not see him from your angle, needing to turn around to face the source of the sound, but you could instantly hear the smile in his voice, clearly both happy and shocked to find you here of all people.
You turned around, now facing the boy. He was wearing his usual 'uniform', which really just consisted of some tight black slacks and a matching black short-sleeve top tucked into his pants. You'd forgotten how well his uniform fit him. It must've been one of the reasons why his massages were rated so high, you thought.
"Hey, Cheol ..." you smiled awkwardly, having been caught off guard by the man. You'd meant to surprise him, not the other way around.
"I wasn't expecting you. Did you call? Did you make an appointment?!", his eyes widened at the possibility, looking past you and at the receptionist as if to confirm his inquiry.
"No, Cheol. I told you I didn't want a massage. I came to see you, actually," well that was half true. You had wanted to see your friend in his element, maybe even convince yourself of finally taking him up on his offer. You had just wanted to see if you could handle that type of touch from your best friend considering your situation (re: a recovering case of touch starvation with a mixture of 'I might kind of maybe still have a bit of a crush on my bff').
To be completely honest, you were somewhat afraid. You'd hadn't felt any form of intimate touch in a long while or, well, ever. And to have it come from your best friend would only open up a can of worms you had wanted to keep under lock and key ever since meeting the man. Every excuse you'd given thus far to reject him bad been true, but had also been just that; an excuse. You knew that Seungcheol's treatment would help you lessen an issue that had now grown past your own personal ability to manage on your own. Which is why you were now here, willing to give it a try. You had self control, right? What was the worst that could happen if you let your best friend get his hands on you, your bare back as he rubbed it with oil? You'd deal with the logistics later, now you just wanted to see exactly what your friend was offering you.
"Me? What's up?", he had begun to walk you towards his rest area, away from the mean receptionist as he continued conversation with you.
"Well, I, uh, I was thinking about your offer ..."
"Really?! You wanna do it? I can clear up my schedule! Just let me talk to Stacy real quick and-"
"Cheol!", you had to physically hold him back from walking back to the reception to rearrange his day. He seemed way too excited to help you out.
"I haven't decided yet, Cheol. I was just thinking, well, wondering if it'd be okay for me to maybe shadow you for a while or something? Just to see what it'd be like?"
To any outsider you must've sounded like an idiot, somehow worrying over something that was arguably the most relaxing experience a person could possibly have. Ironically. What people didn't understand was the effect Seungcheol could have on a person. Specially a touch-starved, heavily emotionally invested, weak individual such as yourself. Denying your crush on Seungcheol was really the only defense you had left at this point. You could admit to your fears of being touched by Cheol, chalking it up to your lack of experience at being touched in general, but you could not even admit that your crush had maybe, perhaps, possibly, creeped back up a while back. It didn't help that no one you knew was aware of your sensitive state when it came to intimate contact. This was intel you hadn't even let your best friend in on. Maybe if it had been someone else, you would've accepted the massage already. You knew it didn't have to be an intimate interaction, it was just the fact that Cheol would be doing it that made it seem that way to you. But you knew his feelings would be hurt if you denied him and went to someone else. You'd dragged it out for far too long, making such a simple thing way too complicated.
~
Cheol easily agreed to your request, seemingly excited to even have you around his workplace at all. It was cute, really. He let you know that his next booking would start in ten minutes or so, so you waited with him during his break. Despite not receiving a massage for yourself, he provided you with a robe to change into due to the humidity most of their rooms tended to have during a session.
"Are you sure it's okay that I'm here? Won't the client mind?"
"Nah. She's a regular, she tends to forget her own name five minutes in," he winked at you. Well, that was reassuring ..
The massage began soon after. The woman, probably in her early 40's, walked in, gave Seungcheol a friendly greeting and proceeded to lay down, barely even acknowledging your presence in the back of the room. Cheol gave some weak excuse of 'she's in training, just showing her the ropes' to justify your presence, earning an uninterested hum in acknowledgment from the woman before she had begun taking off her robe and gotten on the bed in preparation for her awaited session. She was't fully naked but had very thin underwear on, meaning you could practically see every detail from her back. Her face-down position gave you a perfect angle to her almost-bare ass as Seungcheol prepared the oils he had set on the table beside him. There was also some incense burning in the room, along with some steam to help with ambience.
The massage began very slowly, allowing Seungcheol to deliver very soft touches as he spread the oil around her back. He even went as far as the back of her legs and ass, reaching as far as her feet. The first few minutes simply consisted of him spreading the oil around. You hadn't known Seungcheol gave full body massages til now. Before having started the session, Cheol had told you 'Pay close attention. This is what I'll do to you when you agree.' Had he meant he'd be running his hands up and down your entire body? The thought made you shudder, almost missing the show in front of you.
His next movements were harsher, but in a clearly pleasurable way. He began to knead roughly at the woman's shoulders, making her groan at the pleasurable pain. He did this for a while, clearly having found a point of tension in that area. His thumbs focused on specific areas of tension that you were familiar with; the same areas you'd known your back had knots in. Even just seeing it made the sore parts of your back beg for release of tension. When he moved on, he targeted the upper center of her back, just below where her breasts were located on the opposite side of her body. He rubbed at the sides, sliding his hands up and down the length of her back as he massaged expertly. He continually used the extra strength of his thumbs to pressure and rub at the sore spots. He didn't even have to ask where it hurt, it seemed like he could just detect it on his own. This was clearly exerting the woman, as she moaned and sighed at the feeling of Seungcheol's hands on her. It was clearly exerting Seungcheol too, who was letting out groans from his own efforts.
You imagined yourself in her position, wanting to be the sole receiver of his touches and sounds. You felt ashamed, but the act was making your body heat up. You knew it was purely innocent, and with the purpose of relaxation, but you couldn't help yourself. You wanted to blame the humidity in the room, or maybe the cozy material of your robe, but there was only one culprit; Choi Seungcheol. You had been right to believe that his touch would be your undoing. Simply hearing him was enough to make you lightheaded. You had lost track of where the massage had went, only thinking about the man in the room now. You cursed your vivid imagination for the images it was putting in your head just at the mere sounds coming from your friend.
The massage continued for a while, eventually sending the woman into a deep slumber. Cheol kept re-applying oil to her back throughout the session, even lowering his hands all the way to knead at her ass and the back of her legs during some points. That made you extra lightheaded. Not just at the thought of Seungcheol touching you in the same way, but knowing he'd have the magic touch able to release the tension trapped all over your back. You couldn't blame the woman for the sounds she made or the way she fell asleep due to the pleasure. You could only imagine your own reaction at Seungcheol doing the same to you. Even just seeing the way he rubbed at the skin had your back aching for the same release of pressure from the tightest spots on your back.
You were still slightly affected by the time the woman had woken up and left, leaving you and Cheol alone in the room, promising Seungcheol she'd be back soon as she exited. He approached you with a smile, clearly proud of having shown you his skills in action.
"So, what did you think?"
"I, uh, you're really good, Cheol. I'm surprised."
"Surprised? I've been telling you I'm the best for months! C'mon, there's no way you don't want a massage after seeing that," he rebutted, smirking with confidence.
You remained silent for a second, pondering as to whether or not you should move forward with this. He was right. He was clearly talented at it, and he really just wanted to help. Your aching back was begging for it, and so were the other aching parts of your body. But you didn't know if you could hold back without embarrassing yourself at your best friend's hands on you in such an intimate way.
Your best friend must've taken notice of your silence, speaking up again, but in a more serious yet sympathetic manner.
"Listen. I know you can be a bit .. shy about these things. If it helps, we can just set up at my apartment? I have a massage bed there too! It would just be the two of us. C'mon, what do you say?", he gave you puppy eyes as he usually did when asking for something.
He was always hard to deny. And in this vulnerable moment, with your back begging for relief and your body aching for his touch, you weren't surprised when you found yourself muttering a 'yes' in affirmation.
A few days passed. You and Cheol ended up having to coordinate your days off. It had actually been almost a full week until you were able to see each other again, which for you meant yet another week of grueling pain you had to put up with. You were really beginning to consider putting an end to the overtime you'd been working. Maybe after the massage you could begin to work less hours in order to lessen the pain. Maybe even take Cheol up on his offer of getting a standing appointment to lessen the pain more and more and prevent it from coming back again. It was something to think about. But now you had better things to worry about. Those things taking form in the man standing on the opposite side of the door in front of you.
You had agreed on today, a Saturday night, in order for you to come to his apartment and receive the dreaded massage. Cheol had worked all day today, which made you feel a bit bad about making him basically step back into his work duties but this time at home. He reassured you it was more than fine, reasoning that you'd worked all week and he had just wanted to work around your busy schedule. You appreciated his efforts to work with you, having always known Cheol to put your comfort before anything else. Which was yet another reason why you felt badly at receiving this favor from him. To anyone else it might've just been a massage, but you knew that to Cheol this was a service he was used to getting paid for, a talent which he put effort into. You felt like both like a leech and like a source of annoyance due to this whole ordeal.
You put all your thoughts aside and knocked on the door, knowing it was now time to forget about all your worries and just let Seungcheol take care of you. He opened the door almost immediately, almost as if he'd been waiting on the other side of it, ear against the door while your internal monologue went off in your head.
"You're here!", he smiled widely at you, ushering you in.
"You invited me, Cheol. I wasn't about to ditch you."
"But you thought about it, didn't you?", he kinda had you there. You did consider it, but you knew your best friend would've tracked you down sooner or later anyways.
"Listen, I know you're nervous, but there's nothing to be nervous about! I'll take care of you. It won't be awkward, I swear," despite having never told him of your lack of experience with touch, you always assumed he had some idea of it. He didn't know the full story, though. Not about the fact that your issue with the massage was being touched by him; the former source of your desires.
"It's .. it's fine, Cheol. I'm not nervous, I promise. Just don't know what to expect, that's all."
"I'll guide you through it. I set out the massage table for you in my room. I have the oils ready too. Oh! Did you bring a bikini to change into?"
Right. Last time you spoke he had asked you to bring either a bikini or some comfortable underwear. He's said something about needing your body as nude as possible ('within your comfort zone!', he'd quickly added) in order to give you a full massage. He also said the oils he used had a tendency of staining and leaving their strong fragrance on most fabrics. It was usually spa policy to provide customers with robes and such for their sessions, but being located in his home at the moment, he'd asked you to just bring your bikini directly.
You didn't feel any type of way about this, surprisingly. Having known Seungcheol for years, he'd seen you in a bikini as many times as you'd seen him shirtless and in very tiny swim trunks. The one thing, however, was the thought of him touching your bare skin, but it was too late to back out - not that you wanted to anyways.
"Y-yeah, it's in my bag. Did you wanna start right away or ..?"
"Yeah! Go get ready and I'll start preparing the oils for you. I'll also light some incense for ambience," and with that, he left you alone in the living room so that you could change without interruption. He went into his room to prepare things, closing the door to allow you some privacy.
You had chosen your skimpiest bikini. Not for any inferior motives! But because you knew Cheol needed access to your bare skin as much as possible. Your lower lower back had been killing you lately. Even more so than your shoulders, due to sitting all day every day. So you wanted to give him room to take care of that without any clothing getting in the way. You hastily got changed, deciding that you'd already waited long enough and that it was time to get this over with.
'Are you ready?", you heard Cheol ask from his room a few minutes later.
Ok, it was time. Anyone else would've been ecstatic at the thought of their crush rubbing all over their body, or at the idea of a free full-body massage. But you were too high-strung for your own good, which only increased your anxiety over the whole thing. However, you were now here, almost in the nude, only one door away from the man who would rid you of your pain and replace it with pleasure.
You stepped into the room without verbalizing a response, immediately meeting eyes with an expectant Cheol, who was organizing his oils as he awaited your arrival. He'd outdone himself, really. He had lowered the lighting in the room, lighting a few candles and some incense in order to turn up the spa ambience. The place smelled divine, and even the temperature was perfect. You could already feel yourself getting relaxed.
"Cheol, holy shit. This is too much. You didn't have to go so out of your way. This looks like an actual spa!"
"Only the best for my best friend," he gave his gummy smile in return, eyeing you as he directed you towards the massage table that was standing in the middle of the room. "You ready?"
"Yeah," you breathed out, accepting his stretched hand as he helped position you on the table.
He laid you face down on the table, but with your head turned to the side, as to not squish your features against the flat surface, "Try not to think too much, yeah? It'll feel so good, I promise. I'm gonna get rid of all tension in your body," the way he'd said it sounded promising, almost hinting at something more.
Without much warning, he began to softly run his hands up and down your body, going from your shoulders all the way down to your calves, almost as if sizing you up in order to come up with a game plan for your massage. Even that feather-like touch had you flinching a little. You'd never been caressed like this before.
"Shit, you're very high-strung. Even more than I thought," he chuckled in response to your body's reaction to such light touch.
"Cheol ..." you whined.
"Sorry. I'll start now, okay? You're gonna feel a little warm in a second. I'm gonna oil you up so it's easier for me to massage you, yeah? I picked my favorite scented oils for you."
You were thankful for the warning, because the warmth you felt immediately after made you swoon internally. You almost moaned out loud at the feeling of his hands lightly rubbing the oil all over your body. You were already affected and he hadn't even begun. It didn't take him long to actually start, however. He began with your neck, almost wrapping his hands all around it, but not closing them in on it. His thumbs were focusing on the lower part of the back of your neck, rubbing at spots you hadn't even realized were that sore.
"You're so tense, Jesus Christ," he was right. You could feel instant relief at his touch, pressing your body further into the soft material of the cushion of the table in pure relaxation.
He rubbed that area for a while, seemingly trying to target the knots located there. He then moved onto your shoulders, beginning to rub a little harder. He began to dig his thumbs into the problem areas, going extra hard at any points of tension. With this extra strength, also came his vocalization of his efforts. His groans of exertion began to fill the room, making you feel even more lightheaded than the massage itself.
"Shit, Baby. You're so fucking tight here."
The wording itself was killing you, but the way he touched you while doing it made you melt into the table, afraid you'd begin to vocalize your pleasure through the form of moans or whines. So far you'd been able to get away with soft breaths and maybe a gasp or two. But you knew that the moment you let go, you wouldn't be able to control the way your body would react to his touch. You were slightly terrified of what would come the lower he went down your body.
Then he threw you yet another curveball.
He leaned down, halting his movements for a moment, and put his mouth a few inches from your ear, "I can feel you tensing up. It's okay, I'll take care of you. You can relax for me."
You saw that as a green light to let go, whining a tiny 'uh huh' in response as he continued his movements.
He went lower and lower, now rubbing your lower back; the area right before the slope of your ass began, but he was quickly approaching it. Every area he had touched so far, he had undone. You felt like your back had been liberated of the huge weight it had been carrying for years. You were whining and moaning at the pleasure he was giving you, and also at the feel of his hands on your body. You felt yourself get wetter by the minute, having started to feel moisture down there from the moment he began massaging you. You were ashamed, but his touch so close to your biggest point of tension was driving you insane. You wanted him to forget about the massage and just flip you over.
"Okay, baby. Now I'm gonna do your ass, okay? Trust me, I know it sounds dumb, but a lot of people carry a lot of tension here"
He was right once again. As he massaged the muscle, you felt tension you didn't even know you had finally unwind. He repositioned you a bit, asking you to lift one of your legs to the side and let it hang a bit off of the side of the table. This angle lifted up your ass a bit, and disconnected your crotch from the table. You were slightly embarrassed, knowing that if he looked through a certain angle he'd be able to see you glisten with desire for him, but you chose to ignore it and hope for the best. Cheol was already helping you so much.
He continued for a few moments, occasionally going down and rubbing lightly at the back of your thighs and calves before coming back up to your lower back and butt. But he suddenly stopped at some point. You could've sworn you heard an intake of breath.
"Hey .. I'm gonna try a special technique. Is that okay?"
You were almost completely gone in pleasure by then, eyes becoming heavier by the minute. You didn't even have to think before saying yes.
You felt him lean his body more over the table, and also a bit over the lower half of your body. He was still just massaging your lower back with one hand, while making you bend your leg a little higher than before. You weren't sure what he meant by special technique, but you were down for anything had in mind. Except you hadn't expected what he would do next.
Having bent your leg forward, he had given himself the perfect angle of your pussy from behind, deciding to let his hand slip between your legs and run his fingers lightly over your folds. You gasped at this, repositioning yourself a bit to give him even more access. He took this as a welcoming sign, starting to run his hands up and down your pussy, stopping once in a while to rub at your swollen clit.
"Baby .. You're so tense here .. Let me help you? Yeah?" He said this as he continued to increase the intensity of his movements, rubbing more and more at your clit.
"Y-yes. Fuck. Please, Cheol ..." you whined, giving him permission to do whatever he wanted to you.
You yelped at his next movements. He had shoved his fingers inside with no warning, leaning down to kiss softly at your ass while he fingered you. The speed of his fingers wasn't too fast, but it was deep and calculated, dragging across all the places you needed him most. He was right, you did feel tense there, but his movements were relaxing you like nothing else could.
"Is it working, baby? Am I making you feel good?"
You'd buried your face into one of your arms, but still managed to squeak out a "yes!" in affirmation.
"Just 'yes', baby? We can do better than that, don't you think? I think I have something to rid you of all your tension ..." you could hear the smirk in his voice as he said this, feeling him finally remove the tiny piece of fabric between your legs.
He positioned his body a little further over the lower half of the table, lowering his face to the space between your cheeks in order to get his tongue on your pussy. He began to lick and suck softly, keeping a pace similar to that of his fingers just a few seconds ago. The pleasure was blinding you, causing you to lightly grind against his face, wanting as much pleasure as you could milk out of him. He seemed to like this, as he lifted his hands and placed them on your hips, guiding your grinding against him and taking on an even better angle.
All that could be heard were the moist sounds of his tongue on your heat and your cries of pleasure. The massage had been fully forgotten. All you could think about was your best friend's tongue and the way his groans against your pussy were making you lose your mind. It seemed like this was bringing him as much satisfaction as it did you.
"Ch-Cheollie! Right there! Fuck!", he'd begun to suckle at your clit, wanting you to finally reach your high and bring you as much pleasure as imaginable.
"Cum all ove' my face baby! wann' taste that pretty pussy," his words were muffled. He seemed physically incapable of separating himself from you.
You came almost immediately, loving the vibrations of his groans against you. You fell completely limp, being rendered a shell of yourself. The whole thing had felt like an out of body experience. From the massage to the life-changing orgasm. You were convinced there was no greater pleasure than what you'd felt in the past half hour. But Seungcheol seemed to disagree, instantly pulling you towards him and sitting you on the table, your body now facing his.
He had untied your bikini top earlier into the massage, which you hadn't minded since you were facing down and away from his view anyways, but now you were grateful he had. He was making direct eye contact with your tits, almost as if pondering as to what to do with them. He seemed to reach a decision, however, and attacked them with his lips with intense fervor, licking and biting at your swollen buds. He had you moaning out in pleasure again. It was as if he'd studied your body without you knowing, being an expert in all your weak spots.
He made out with your tits for a while, making your eyes roll back at the feeling of his tongue against your sensitive nipples. When he pulled away, he instantly began undressing himself at record speed. He had just been wearing shorts and a loose top, which made the process pretty quick. Immediately after getting himself nude, he positioned you so that you could wrap your legs around his waist from your position sitting on the table. He dragged you as close to him as possible by your legs, pressing your chests together.
He looked down at you while running his hands up and down your back, which was still slightly sticky with oil. He seemed to be in a trance, just looking at you with an endeared expression in his eyes, "You're so beautiful. Your body's so ... fuck. Can't believe you've been in pain for so long, baby. When I could've been taking care of you all this time," he had began to kiss along your neck and clavicles as he said this.
"Cheollie .." you breathed out, tilting your neck to the side to allow him extra space to kiss.
"Can I take care of you, baby? Let me get rid of all your tension?", he'd started grinding his bare hips against yours, having pushed open your legs in order to allow himself to drag his dick against your cunt.
Even just the weight of his cock against you had you whining, burying your face in his neck, not knowing how to react at the stimulation. You'd already felt the most pleasure when Cheol buried his tongue in your cunt, or so you'd thought. But that did not hold a candle to the feeling of his fat head as it nudged against your folds. You began to whine and writhe against him, hands digging into his arms as he ground against you. Until he nudged your head away from his neck, wanting to face you. He halted his movements altogether and looked into your eyes for a few moments, a small smile gracing his lips. His eyes began to lower, now staring directly at your lips. Your eyes mirrored his. It was a tender moment in the midst of what had just now been a mess of grinding bodies and oil. When he finally kissed you was when you truly felt relief. No massage could have compared to the bliss you felt with your best friend's lips against your own. The softness of the kiss didn't last much, however, as the movements of his hips picked back up and the kiss began to become more moist by the second.
Cheol took advantage of your soft gasps at the feeling of his cock against your cunt to slip his tongue in your mouth, expertly massaging yours with his. This went on for a bit, allowing for Cheol to stimulate you with some kissing and dry humping, further preparing you to take him free of pain. He was a little larger in size than average, and with the very limited experience he had asserted you to have, he wanted to prevent you from feeling any pain. He had wanted tonight to be nothing but pleasure for you, knowing how badly you've been needing some relaxation, and maybe with the slight ulterior motive of finally getting with his pretty bestie.
He unglued himself from your lips, chuckling at the way you whined as your lips followed his, "Baby, I'm gonna fuck you now, yeah? Wanna see you fully relaxed. That okay?"
"Mhm. Yes, Cheollie. Do anything you want. Trust you," you mumbled in response, head filled with air as you barely caught your breath from the overload of pleasure you'd felt tonight.
With that, he began to enter you, bulbous head showing a bit of a fight in entering your tight walls. You both let out a moan of relief when he finally bottomed out, almost as if you'd both been craving this for a while. He fucked you with a passion only someone who wanted you the way you wanted him would. You'd thought you'd reached the utmost pleasure when Cheol had you cumming against his tongue, but nothing could ever compare to being full of him as he praised you through every thrust, calling you every possible adjective to describe your beauty.
"B-baby! So fucking good. So pretty for me .. Gonna fuck you all night. Gonna fuck you to sleep. All mine now," he began canting in and out of you with even more intensity now, making sure to hit that spot with every thrust.
"Cheollie!"
"I know, baby. Gonna cum for me? Gonna let me fill that pussy up, aren't you, pretty?"
It didn't take long for you to cum, already feeling an overwhelming amount of emotions at every type of pleasure Seungcheol had delivered to you tonight. He followed soon after you, yelling out your name at the tightening of your walls around him. He breathed heavily as he leaned against you for a minute or two, only then moving away from you in order to get a towel and begin to clean you up.
"Sorry .. was that too much?", he smiled sheepishly as you seemed to wince when he attempted to clean you up between your thighs.
"No! It was perfect, just ... not really used to it, that's all."
"Okay, baby. If you say so. Now let me take you to bed!", with no warning, he picked you up and brought you over to his bed, completely ignoring the mess he'd caused on his massage table after having fucked you on it. He laid you down, cocooning you into his blankets before rushing to the other side of the bed and holding you in his arms.
He turned to look at you as he cradled your body against his, "Do you feel better now? Still sore?", the question seemed genuine.
"No, Cheollie. I feel amazing. I've never felt this good before, actually."
"That good, huh? I told you I was the best! But don't worry, baby. Gonna keep your appointment every week like I promised. Gonna keep you in my bed every time you're feeling sore, yeah, baby? Don't even have to ask, I'll be waiting for you," he chuckled at himself as he said this, but being completely serious.
"Will you give me your special treatment again?," you giggled against his lips.
"That's for you and you only, baby," he replied as he closed the gap between you once more.
a/n: ok i mightve made reader a lil extra overdramatic this time but u guys have to understand. my back hurts like hell. so pls sympathize w reader bc shes lowkey my soul sister in that area đ
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen x reader#svt fanfic#seventeen#svt#svt x reader#seventeen smut#svt smut#seventeen imagine#seungcheol smut#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol fanfic#seungcheol x reader#scoups fanfic#scoups smut#scoups x reader
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Discord 18+Â -Â Twitter - Part Two of Outlaw Series
Pairing: Outlaw!Suguru Geto x Female Reader Genre: Western AU WC: 8.7k Summary:
âGettinâ train tickets ainât easy. Where ya headed?â âJust a few towns over. Goinâ to visit family,â you explain, now more relaxed with him. Something about the way he was able to soothe your nerves makes Suguru feel proud. It also is making him clearly insane, because some sick part of Suguru begins to think he could be your family. If youâll let him. âWhat about you?â His brows shoot up in surprise. Why would you want to know about him? âMe?â You nod quickly. âI know youâreâŠâ You lean forward and Suguru mirrors the action as shivers race up his spine when you whisper scandalously, â...an outlaw.â
Story Warning: Train robbery, hostage situation, lying and scheming, profanity bc bitch it's me??, dub-con, Suguru has a corruption kink, needy downbad Suguru, "virgin" reader, guns, smut, blowjob, riding, fingering, spit, thinking about spitting, i love spit, dirty fantasies, titty sucking probably, using ropes, hair pulling (lmfaooooo), threats of violence, dirty talk, inexperienced reader, spit!, overstimulation, humiliation kink, Suguru is kinda pathetic, actually real pathetic, don't get your hopes up idk
Artist Credit: @/tsumusbeloved (on twitter)
A/N: FINALLYYYYY. This has been sitting in my drafts for like 3 months!!! I hope yall enjoy!!!
Tags: @syubseokie @yasu-1234 @cassayeee @glmpsfs @struxkbylightning @aotdump @oidloid @sunnysdiarythoughts @stillseren @lovebittenbyevans @avaatara @elliesndg @luv-kae @megtheebimbo @buttercupblu143 @toffeebrat @kaqua@moggleatlife @candy-s72 @sukunadckrider @xixflower @apchmon
Itâs the shrill screech of the metal meeting metal on the train tracks that Suguru enjoys most about his work. How this massive tank of metal carrying so many people can just fly across the country, providing beautiful views of miles and miles of desert sands and mountains. The wildlife roams free on the frontier without a care in the world. And the train just keeps going, filling the sky with thick curls of black smoke.
Yeah, this train has many people on it.
Which means, this train has plenty of goods that will soon be his.
âAh, you dropped your hat, boss.â A smooth voice speaks behind Suguru, holding open the train door as one other clambers in. Suguru kindly grabs his hat from the man, placing it atop his head as he watches his partner take the last personâs hand, lifting them inside.
Itâs a woman, small and with strawberry blonde hair. She grabs onto the man before her. The disgust is clear on her face as her eyes roam along his body.
âCouldnât pick another day to wear no shirt, Larue?â She complains, spreading a small cloud of dust as she brushes her clothes off.
Larue shrugs, chuckling lightly while he closes the train door. The rushing roar of the winds finally subsides. âItâs hot as all hell outside, Manami. Why not be shirtless? Besides, it gives everyone something spectacular to gawk at.â He motions towards his chest where his new set of ink lies â two hearts, one where each of his nipples are.
âA drunken bet gone right, if you ask me,â Larue had said the night after. âTheyâre gonna love these at the whorehouse.â
âIf you twoâre finishedâŠâ Suguru begins. Both Larue and Manami straighten up. âI wanna get in ân outta here. No funny business. Larue, take the back of the train. Better for you to be there in case the conductor gets any ideas. Grab what âya can get your hands on â jewels, shoes, money. Donât matter.â Suguru taps his chin in thought, running through his mental list to make sure he hasnât forgotten anything. âOh! And donât forget to check the bars for any spoons or forks. Yâknow what that silverâs worth. Me ân Manami will take the front of the train.â
Larue nods, no further instruction needed and Manami smiles next to him excitedly. She quickly shuffles over to Suguruâs side, looping her arm through his and Suguru rolls his eyes before slipping his arm out of her hold. Manami shoots him a pouty look before she quickly recovers, folding her arms over her chest.
âAlright, Boss. Iâm ready.â She says with a hushed tone. Larue gives one more nod before he turns around and heads the opposite way. He slides the door slightly ajar, peering inside and just after he enters and the door has been shut and locked, Suguru and Manami hear the muffled shrieks of the passengers in the car.
âHands in the fucking air! This is a stick up!â
Suguru peers down at Manami who is already staring up at him with eager eyes. And it takes everything in Suguru to not roll his eyes in response. She really gets on his last nerve.
âI gotta get rid of her after this one,â he thinks as he moves past the woman and into the opposite end of the train.
He slips through the door, closing it quietly behind Manami once sheâs in. No one bothers to look up when they come in and Suguru counts his lucky stars that this will be easier than he anticipated. They make their way along the aisle, offering soft smiles to the passengers that happen to look up as they pass. Suguru thinks thereâs nothing but a bunch of carefree monkeys too relaxed and stupid as all hell on this train. They donât even know whatâs coming and if they know whatâs good for them, they wonât bother to fight back when they find out.
He lets Manami do the work of maintaining a mental checklist of every item worth its salt in this train car. This is where heâll leave Manami to do her part. Then Suguru will take the final car where the stragglers usually reside. Larue is already taking care of everything in the back. When heâs done, heâll pile up all the goods in an empty car and then make his rounds to grab what Manami and Suguru collect.
When they reach the end of the current car, Suguru turns to Manami who is already reaching into her blouse. She beams, eyes locked on Suguru as she slowly pulls out a pretty little Coltâs revolver. Her lips pull up at the corners, a sly grin on her face. If itâs meant to be alluring to Suguru, itâs not working. In fact itâs having the opposite effect. Itâs so annoying, the way her pupils dilate when she looks at him. Itâs only been a few months since Manami joined their group, but itâs only getting worse for Suguru. She spends half her time trying to seduce him and failing. And itâs not that Manami is unattractive. Sheâs a very beautiful woman, but sheâs not exactly Suguruâs type.
Heâs looking for someone a bit moreâŠinexperienced when it comes to this life of crime. Someone he can mold into his ideal woman, untouched by the roughness that west has to offer. Manami has been doing this for far too long, and already has habits that consistently get under Suguruâs skin. Sheâd never interest him that way.
The pink haired woman flashes Suguru her gun, pointing her chin towards the last car as a signal for him to go on. Suguru nods, spinning on his heel and heading towards his destination. And just in time too, because he hears the door on the other end of the train car close and he knows Larue has finished and has come to assist Manami.
The train car slides shut behind Suguru right as he hears the passengers scream in the car behind him. Itâs louder than the first instance and catches the attention of the passengers in his car who now stare at him with wide eyes, mouths agape like a sea of fish.
Suguru rubs the nape of his neck, frowning. Then, offering a goofy grin, he mutters, âAh wellâŠâ He reaches behind him, wrapping his nimble fingers around the cool, wooden handle tucked into his waistband. He whips out his revolver, the sun glaring off of the fancy gold weapon as Suguru aims it at the passengers who all shriek in terror. The women clutch their jewels. The men hold onto their women. And Suguru? He laughs raucously before he barks out, âPut âem up!â
- - - - - -
Itâs a little surprising how easily the heist goes, but Suguru tries not to give it too much thought. You start thinking somethingâs gonna go wrong and it damn sure will. While Manami is guiding passengers into the back cars, Larue has the conductor held hostage, locked away with threats of a bullet to his skull unless he continues driving. Heâd only shown his face and quickly hid away in his cabin when Suguru told him to use his fucking brain unless he wanted it splattered across the window.
Now, Suguru finds himself roaming the cabin to see if there are any stragglers. And there is one. A very beautiful woman, at that. There you sit, in the last seat of the train car. He slowly makes his way over to you. Suguru thinks you must be some type of saloon girl. Your pretty little dress and waist neatly cinched in a leather corset is the giveaway. He glances over his shoulder, just to be sure this cabin is empty, only to find that it truly is only himself and you left. He hates having to wrangle the stragglers. Thatâs Manami and Larueâs job. And Suguru hates it even more when theyâre not doing it.
He tightens the grip on his gun, turning to give you an earful until his eyes meet yours. Theyâre so wide and glistening, like youâre on the verge of tears. Your lips are quivering, your bottom lip protruding in a pout. It reminds him of the look Manami gave him just before the heist started. Except when coming from you, for some reason, itâs bringing out a different reaction.Â
His heart rate quickens, and Suguruâs hands suddenly feel clammy and not from the heat in this train car. He can feel sweat beginning to bead on his forehead and he has to swallow to quell the dryness thatâs forming in his throat. Then heâs tucking his weapon away into his holster and moving towards you.
âI beg your pardon, maâam,â Suguru speaks calmly as he takes the seat in front of you. You peer up at him, with apparent fear in your eyes and he wants nothing more than to see that look disappear. Usually, heâd use force to get you out and rounded up with the rest of the passengers. Heâs not sure why, but thereâs something about you that makes Suguru want to take care of you. âWhy didnât you leave with the rest of the crowd?â He questions.
Youâre fidgeting with the fabric of your dress in your lap, visibly shaken even as Suguru removes his hat and sets it on the seat in front of you before he sits down.
âIââ you clear your throat and bite down on your lip, seemingly to calm your nerves.Â
âIâm not gonna hurt ya, maâam,â he tells you softly, reassuring you. âJust wonderinâ.â Suguru takes this time to drink in your features â how soft you look, the way your body so beautifully fills that dress of yours, how youâve got a face that will be burned into his memory long after this encounter.
And for some reason, it also feels as if it was burned into his memory long before this encounter. Thereâs a familiarity about you that Suguru canât quite place. Heâs certain heâs seen your face somewhere. He had been through many saloons and brothels in his time traveling the frontier. Perhaps he had run into you in one of the many establishments he frequented?Â
No. No, Suguru would remember if he saw a woman who looked like you in any of those places. You would have easily stood out in the crowd. He would have called you up to his room on any of those nights.Â
You bite down on your lip as you stare at Suguru. As afraid as you look, you donât break eye contact. To see you so stricken with fear, and yet you steadily look him in the eye without blinking. You show courage even when faced with danger, and it does something to him.Â
The look on your face has him picturing all sorts of things about you and he doesnât even know your name.
âI was afraid,â you mutter quietly.Â
Thankfully so, because Suguru was just about to begin imagining a life outside of crime with you. Which is shocking in and of itself. Three minutes of simply staring at you had him visualizing a future on the prairie hanging laundry on the line while you fed the cattle.
âKeep it together.â
âDonât be scared. Iâm not gonna hurt nobody,â Suguru reassures you again. He tries to calm your nerves with a smile which seems to work because he sees you visibly exhale. You return his gesture with a small smile of your own, and his imagination runs wild once more.
âPromise?â You ask, Suguruâs smile widens.Â
âCute,â he thinks. He wants to see more of those. âI promise, sweetheart.â
He can hear the way you huff, something between a laugh and a sigh of relief. And Suguru finds himself becoming more and more infatuated with you as he keeps the conversation going.
âGettinâ train tickets ainât easy. Where ya headed?â
âJust a few towns over. Goinâ to visit family,â you explain, now more relaxed with him. Something about the way he was able to soothe your nerves makes Suguru feel proud.
It also is making him clearly insane, because some sick part of Suguru begins to think he could be your family. If youâll let him.
âWhat about you?â
His brows shoot up in surprise. Why would you want to know about him? âMe?â
You nod quickly. âI know youâreâŠâ You lean forward and Suguru mirrors the action as shivers race up his spine when you whisper scandalously, â...an outlaw.â
He leans back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully while he purses his lips together. His gaze is locked onto you because he wonders if youâre up to something. If youâre not as sweet and innocent as you look. But when you lean back and flutter your lashes at him, he begins to doubt it. That sweet face of yours is a rare one to see on this side of the wild west; beautiful and unscarred. You donât look like youâve been exposed to anything more dangerous than a thunderstorm. And itâs arousing. The air of innocence that you carry has Suguru shifting in his seat, his pants suddenly feeling tighter.
This is exactly what heâs been wanting. Someone opposite of Manami, someone who is interested in his life, but not involved with crime in the least. As far as he can tell, youâre clean as a whistle. And Suguru likes to think heâs good at reading people.
âNever seen a outlaw before?â He drawls. You shake your head, back to messing around nervously with your dress.
âNever,â you answer softly, batting those pretty, long lashes at him. âOnly seen âem on signs. WantedâŠdead, or alive.â
Oh, you really are sheltered.
âWell, now youâve seen one in person.â Suguru combs his fingers through his dark tresses, grinning like his criminal status is one to be proud of. To him, he supposes it is. âWhat dâya think?â
You do that lip biting thing that Suguru is beginning to realize he finds cute. Maybe itâs a nervous tick, but this time it seems itâs to be you holding back a smile. Everything you do is cute to him. Everything you do is sweet, innocent, arousing.
âIâŠâ You lean forward in your seat again, and whether you realize it or not, it gives Suguru a perfect view of the swell of your breasts. Itâs a struggle to keep his focus on your face when your skin looks so smooth, and unmarred, perfect. Those plush lips of yours whisper, â...I think itâs exciting.â
He can only think one thought in this moment.
He wants to ruin you.
âYeah?â
âYeah.â
âWhatâs excitinâ about it?â He asks, though he has an idea what it is. The travel, not being tied down to anyone or anything, the freedom this life provides. Itâs what they all say when they try to make small talk. âPretty girl like you canât possibly know nothinâ about this life.â
You inhale deeply, leaning back in your seat and Suguru watches closely, the way your chest rises and falls with the breath. âWell, I never seen a outlaw in person. Surely never spoke to one. AndâŠâ You purse your lips together, like youâre contemplating if you should say the next thing. But you do anyway. âI just never thought a outlaw could be so pretty.â
His eyes widen, the corners of his lips rising with a goofy grin. âPretty?â He chuckles, combing his fingers through his hair again. âYou really think so?â
Heâs been called a lot of things, but pretty is not one of them.
âYep. Look at ya.â You stand, moving quickly to cross the small gap between you both and take a seat next to him. You reach for his arm, then hesitate, pulling back for a second. You peer up at Suguru, silently asking permission and he nods. Your fingers ghost along his forearm, over his bicep, along his neck where his Adam's apple bobs with a gulp, and then your hand is cupping his cheek. Your trail leaves behind a trail of goosebumps.
And Suguruâs pants grow tighter.
Suguru has had his fair share of women and men alike during his time as a felon. But youâre particularly tempting. Heâs not sure heâs ever wanted someone as badly as he wants you right now and itâs been all of ten minutes in this train car together. But any minute now, his crew is going to come through those doors and tell him theyâre ready to go. And then Suguru will have to leave and the chances of him seeing you ever again are slim to none.Â
But on the bright side, the chances of him seeing you again are slim to none. Itâs a little sudden, but you seem like you want him with the way youâre feeling him up right about now. Maybe you'd let him bury his cock as deep as he can go, fuck you until youâre screaming his name, begging and crying on his cock. Then heâll fill you with his seed, maybe leave a baby in you to remember him by if youâre lucky and then heâll grab his spoils with Larue and the rest and go. Then he'll never see you again.Â
This desert is far and wide. Heâd have you today, then never have to face you again for the rest of his life. A woman like you? You'll be just fine. A pretty face and an even prettier smile. Though he thinks you're a bit naive. Have to be to be sitting here chatting with him like heâs some gentleman you met on a leisurely trip to see your relatives. Regardless, there will be some poor fool out there that'll be happy to have you after he's had his way with you.
âWerenât you just daydreaming about settling down with this woman?â
âPretty eyes,â you hum, pulling Suguru from his filthy fantasies. âNice skin, pretty lips. JustâŠvery pretty.â Your thumb caresses his skin and his eyes can't help but notice the way your gaze is locked to his lips. He pokes his tongue out, watching your eyes widen just slightly at the motion, as he runs the wet muscle along his lips. And heâs right back in his head, thinking of all the ways he could have you.
Thereâs no mistaking the thick tension filling the room at this moment. Like a lightning bolt hitting the same spot repeatedly. Each stroke of your fingers along his cheek only intensifies the mood. Suguruâs lips curl into a teasing smirk, and yours into one that matches. âWhy do I feel like you're trouble?â He says.
Your smile widens, and like a magnet, Suguru finds himself slowly being drawn closer and closer to you. Even as a soft laugh falls from your lips, his mind is wiped clean of all thoughts that don't consist of you.
âMe? Thatâs funny cominâ from a outlaw like yourself,â you mutter just as you close the distance between you, pressing your lips teasingly to Suguru's. They barely touch, truly a ghost of a touch but Suguru still has to swallow down the moan that damn near bursts from his chest the second your mouth was close enough to his.
You pull away suddenly, covering your lips as you lean away, your eyes wide with worry. ââm sorry.â
âWhat are you apologizinâ for?â Suguru asks, scooting closer.
âI donât know whatâs gotten into meâŠI justâŠâ Youâre back to fidgeting with your dress again, and Suguru places a large hand over yours to stop the movement. âYouâre a criminal, and Iâm just me. I shouldnât even be talkinâ to you.â You stare up at him with wide eyes, and fuck he wants you.
You look so sweet, so pure looking at him like that. And he feels a little like a piece of shit because while youâre looking at him with probably innocent thoughts floating around in your head, heâs thinking about how heâd love nothing more than to cover your face in his seed.
âIâm not a bad guy,â Suguru lies easily. âHave I done bad things?â He shrugs, because heâs done way too many terrible things to count. Better not to give a real answer to that one. âBut Iâm enjoyinâ our conversation. The kiss was just a perk. Wouldnât mind it if it happened again. Iâd gladly accept it.â
âButâŠI donât even know youâŠâ
âAll the better,â is what he wants to say, but instead, he tells you, âAnd thatâs fine. Listenââ he squeezes your hand gently. âBest part of beinâ a criminal is that I just do what I want. Donât gotta ask permission for nothinâ.â
Your eyes swim with curiosity. âItâs that easy?â
âYep. Do what makes ya feel good, sweetheart.â
You still donât look convinced, and if this next question doesnât work, Suguru will have no choice but to tie you up and dump you in the other train car with the rest of the hostages. He doesnât have much time to waste trying to get you just to kiss him.
âLemme ask yaâŠdid you like kissinâ me?â
He knows he should be worrying about the heist, not some pretty face distracting him from the job. But when you speak again, he tells himself the job can go to hell.
âYesâŠbutâŠI got scared. Iâ Iâve only done some things with a manâŠâ you admit quietly. âAnd Iâm not too good at it.â
Fuck. He has to have you.
âThatâs not a problem, sweetheart,â he reassures you, and you beam.
Your hand grasps onto Suguruâs, squeezing tightly. âReally?â
He nods. âI donât got much time before I gotta leave, but I can show ya some things real quick.â
âYouâll show me? How to do things?â Your voice is eager, so ready. Suguru is finding it hard to contain how much youâre turning him on right now. âLike kissinâ andâŠyâknow other stuff?â
âWhat kinda stuff?â He asks, because he wants you to say it. Wants to know how far youâre willing to go if youâve never done a damn thing before. You pinch your lips together, turning your head away shyly. But Suguru gently cups your chin, turning you to look at him again.
âWhat kinda stuff?â He repeats. âTell me.â
âStuffâŠthat makes a manâŠyâknowâŠâ
He grins, tauntingly. âEnlighten me,â he whispers.
âStuff to make a manâŠâ you worry your lip between your teeth. â...feel good.â
Oh hell.Â
What type of good deeds has Suguru done to find himself here? With someone as virtuous as you, who is asking him of all people to show you how to please him? He has half a mind to tell you no. Heâs got shit to do and his partners are bound to come looking for him any minute. But his cock is screaming within the confines of his pants to get into those undergarments of yours. And thereâs no argument to be had here.Â
Heâs listening to his dick.
Suguru crashes his lips to yours, swallowing up the yelp that escapes you from the sudden kiss. âIâll teach ya whatever ya want, pretty girl.â He groans into your mouth.Â
He kisses you hard, but slowly, giving you time to catch up. Youâre a little slow to pick up, but you get there. Your lips slot against his, fingers slipping into his hair and holding on tight, making Suguru groan into the kiss once more.
âWe donât got a lotta time,â he breathes against you.
You nod, pulling away to look up at him. âWhat dâya want?â
You.
He needs you â bent over the passenger seat and holding onto the bar sitting atop it while he fucks you from behind. He needs you sitting on his face, needs your hand around his length. But heâs looking at your face again, so desperate for instruction. Looks at your lips, swollen from the little bit of kissing youâve been doing. And he knows exactly what he needs in this moment.
âEver had a cock in your mouth?â He shifts, sitting back against the seat.
You shake your head.
âEver touched one?â
Another shake of your head.
âWhat have you done?â
You hum, thinking only for a short time before you answer. âKissed.â
What fucking luck.
Doesnât matter what they score off the train today. This is the biggest reward of all.
âGood,ïżœïżœïżœ Suguru says, tugging your hand until you stand. With a grin, he guides you to the floor until youâre sitting up on your knees. âThere wonât be another man whoâs had ya then. Iâll show ya how to please me, make me feel good.âÂ
You nod, and Suguru canât believe how easy this was as he fumbles with his belt, quickly undoing the buckle. He yanks his pants down, along with his underwear. Only to his knees. He wants to be able to get up quickly if needed. Suguruâs dick sits against his stomach, fat and long, with a harsh red tip that leaks with precum. He peers down at you, your eyes honed in on his length.
âTouch it,â he whispers encouragingly.
Your eyes meet as you move, your hands wrapping around Suguru tenderly, pulling a hiss from him. You hold his length like itâs a foreign object, and he supposes it is to you since itâs the first time youâve done. Suguru grits his teeth, bringing a hand up to your fist. Youâre simply touching him and his dick is throbbing in your grip.
âMove your handâŠup ân down,â he tells you. âLike this.â He guides you, helping to move your hand in slow and light pumps until youâve found a rhythm that works. His head falls back as the pleasure takes over. âAhhhâshit, just like that, pretty girl.â
âItâs so bigâŠâ you sigh, licking your lips as you stroke his cock slowly.
From here, Suguru is certain he has a perfect view of you. Eyes wide and curious while you observe every ridge and vein running along his length. It turns him on beyond measure, his hips jerking upward in your grasp.Â
âDamn,â he moans, fucking himself into your hands. For someone with no experience, you hold his dick just right. He never knew a womanâs touch could feel this good, but youâre a natural talent. You stroke him so good, his mouth falls slack as he lets himself enjoy the feeling of your hands around him. But you surprise him, just as youâve been doing all this time, his eyes snapping open just in time to watch you lick from the base of his length all the way to the tip, teasing the slit with your tongue and lapping up the bead of precum that sits there.
âItâs salty,â you giggle before you kiss down his shaft, bringing your attention to his balls, kissing and licking the two orbs teasingly. Suguru inhales sharply, eyes rolling to the back of his head as the sensation makes his head swim with pleasure. Especially when your hand wraps around Suguruâs length again, pumping him up and down, slowly as you continue to lap at his balls.
âYouâre already so good at this,â Suguru pants heavily.
âI am?âÂ
He can hear the excitement in your voice, so eager to please him. It turns him on knowing that youâre trying so hard to make him feel good. He wonders if you can feel his cock throb in your hands.
âSo fucking good,â he praises you, loving the way you hum against him.
âCan I put it in my mouth?â You ask sweetly, squeezing your hands around his cock.
âGod, please.â
When you take Suguru into the warmth of your mouth, you hum around him, and the vibrations make him shiver, back arching off of the seat. His palm finds the back of your head, his hips rolling up so he can shove his cock as far as possible without hurting you. Heâs gentle at first. Youâve never done this before, after all. He wants to give you the time you need to adjust, though he canât afford to give you too much. Which seems to be just fine, because just like before, you catch on quickly. You take his cock damn near to the base, and you take it so well, relaxing your throat for him so itâs easy.Â
âCould fuck this pretty little mouth all day,â Suguru grunts, pumping into you. âSo goddamn good.â The sound of his balls slapping against your chin as he fucks your face has his legs trembling, pleasure shooting straight up his spine. He wants to grab your head and push you down further, make you swallow all of him until he blows his load down your throat, then make you swallow that, too. But he doesnât want to cum just yet.
He craves more from you. He needs more from you.
You hum again, sending another vibration through him as your fingers come up, caressing his balls. And Suguru squeezes his eyes shut, trying so hard not to cum. âAhâ shit, shit!â He pushes at your shoulders, forcing you off of him with a loud and wet pop. You look rather pleased with yourself, smiling when you see his red cheeks and the way he rapidly tries to catch his breath.
Like he noted before. Youâre trouble.
âFuck, youâre fuckinâ perfect,â he gasps, staring at your chin dripping with saliva and his juices. Suguru watches through hooded eyes as you swipe it away. He could watch you on your knees all day, taking his cock down your throat time and time again. But unfortunately, time is not on his side today. He needs to hurry it up.
âCâmere, pretty,â he calls for you, taking your hand. You stand, waiting for your next instruction as Suguru leans forward in his seat. His hands find your waist, pulling you close enough that he can press a kiss to your stomach before he leans back again. âPull up your skirt for me.â
âOkayâŠâ you agree, shakily. You reach for the hem of your skirt, pulling the layers of fabric as high as itâll go. Suguru always hated these damn dresses. Itâs like digging for gold trying to get through every damn piece of clothing. But eventually, you get to the end, revealing your bare thighs to him. Soft, plush, beautiful. But what heâs truly interested in remains concealed by your underwear.
Suguru swallows hard before he drags his finger along your clothed pussy, grinning when your thighs tremble just barely. His gaze glides back up your form until they rest on your face, watching as your mouth falls open with a silent moan.Â
Hard to believe youâve never been touched here. Also, so very arousing to think youâve never been touched here. He thanks his lucky stars that youâre allowing him to be the first.
He slips his finger into the fabric, his slender fingers quickly finding your slit and sliding along your folds. He sucks in a sharp breath when he feels how soaked you are. He briefly brushes a finger against your entrance, pausing when he feels you tense up.
âMight hurt a little,â he warns as softly as he can manage right now. But you whisper, âgo aheadâ, hands coming to rest on his shoulders as he dips his finger into your pussy, biting back a moan when he feels your soft walls clench down on his hand. Itâs tight, as expected but he moves slowly, pulling back every so often to work his way further.
You whimper above him, squeezing his shoulders as your breaths come rapidly while Suguru pumps his finger in and out of your hole. Your bottom lip sits between your teeth, and your brows are knitted together.
Youâre enjoying this.Â
And heâs enjoying watching you.
Suguru presses his thumb to your clit, slowly circling the sensitive nub. Dark eyes lock with yours as his other hand finds the top of your dress where he hooks his fingers into the cups and pulls it down. Your breasts spill out of the fabric and your breath hitches when the air caresses your nipples. Suguru kneads the soft flesh, his thumb swiping across one of the hardened buds.Â
âAhhh, yes,â you moan, your voice barely above a whisper. Your head falls back with a loud gasp as Suguru slips another finger into you.Â
âBeinâ real good for me,â he coos. His dick grows painfully harder as he slowly thrusts his fingers inside of you, while his thumb stimulates your clit. Heâs panting trying to hold himself together while he preps you for what he wants next. Your hips move on their own, riding Suguruâs hand, chasing your high.Â
âFeel good?â He grunts, fingers slipping into you over and over, curling inside, and hitting your sweet spot and you canât help but to gasp quietly each time Suguru touches it.Â
âY-yes, feels incredible,â you whine.
Suguruâs eyes are locked on your center where he watches his fingers disappear into your cunt over and over, your slick coating his hand more with each thrust. It only adds to Suguruâs struggle to keep it together as he ignores the pulsing need of his cock. Your pleasured moans and the squelching sound of your dripping pussy fill the space of the train car.
âIâmââ you breathe harshly against him and he feels your walls squeeze down on his digits. Youâre close already.
âGonna cum, sweetheart?â Suguruâs fingers dip into you faster. His eyes linger on your face as his thumb rubs tight circles on the sensitive bud between your legs. Your eyes flutter closed, mouth hanging open as a delicious moan rushes past your lips, your grip on Suguruâs shoulders tightening so much it stings. But he loves it, loves feeling your pussy squeezing down on his fingers, sucking them deeper as your release crashes over you until he can feel your cum dripping down his fingers and into his palm as he keeps pumping into you.
Suguru sighs as he stares at his fingers, slowly pulling them from you. He licks his lips, admiring his slick covered hand.
Heâs never taken the time to just enjoy the moment with anyone. Never cared much to please a woman. Itâs easier for him to just get himself off and high tail it out of there. No attachment to these ladies, no reason to stick around. But what is it about you that makes him want to see all the ways your body is capable of falling apart? Because itâs a beautiful sight to behold.Â
âOutlawâŠâ you murmur, slipping your undergarments down your legs until youâre able to kick them off. You push Suguru back by the shoulders, lifting your skirt so that you can easily maneuver into his lap. His hands find your hips beneath your dress as you straddle him, and his thumbs caress the soft skin gently.
âYeah, beautiful?â
So beautiful. He canât stop staring at you and your eyes, glazed over with desire. You lean forward, the heat from between your legs making Suguruâs length twitch. It lightly taps your core and you gasp. Your hands clutch onto the bar that runs along the top of the train seat, one on each side of his head. Suguruâs palms glide around to your backside, squeezing the flesh of your ass. You brush your nose against his, soft breaths mingling with his as you whisper, âmake love to me, outlawâŠâ just before your lips touch.
And Suguruâs groaning into your mouth, because this kiss is different. Itâs hungry, hot, full of want and need. Itâs sloppy and rushed, because youâre both aware of the time crunch youâre in. Itâs intoxicating, addicting, the way he never wants to stop kissing you. To hell with the heist.
âReady for me, pretty girl?â Suguru pants, a hand gripping his cock. He can feel the heat of your pussy radiating off of you and it makes him all the more eager to have you.
Your eyes are wide, filled with something Suguru thinks may be excitement. Heâs not sure he sees any hesitation or fear behind your eyes. You want him badly, itâs clear as day. He wants you just as badly, if not more. So he positions himself at your entrance, nudging your hole gently with his tip.Â
A small whimper slips past your lips, and Suguru kisses you sweetly. âItâs only gonna hurt for a second,â he coos. âPromiseâŠâ
He kisses you again, muttering, âIâm pushinâ inâŠâ against your lips.
You close your eyes, teeth digging into your bottom lip as Suguru rolls his hips forward, slowly sinking his tip into your pussy, only stopping when you let out a harsh breath.
ââS a tight fit,â he murmurs through gritted teeth. An understatement. Your pussy is gripping him with so much force, heâs struggling to breathe. Youâre holding him hostage within your walls and the feeling has him tightening his hold on your ass. âYou alright?â
Because he wants to make sure it feels good for you, too. Your pleasure is his. Which is a whole new feeling for him in and of itself. Heâs aware of how the tables have turned. What started as him wanting to show you ways to please him, turned into him desperate to please you. But he likes it that way.
You nod, moaning quietly when Suguru keeps moving forward. âOhhhâŠâÂ
âGod, this pussy is so fuckinâ ââ he canât even finish his sentence. He needs to focus all his attention on not cumming already.
You take him all the way to the base, moaning loudly when you fully sink onto him. Your grip tightens around the bar, steadying yourself as Suguru lifts you by your ass before pulling you back down on him, so slowly. âFuuuckââ he groans. He thrusts into you at a leisurely pace, slow and controlled, giving you time to adjust to his size.Â
But his kissesâŠtheyâre rough. Such a contrast to the way heâs fucking you right now. The pleasure is overwhelming to Suguru, and when your tongue slips into his mouth, itâs him thatâs whimpering now, thrusting just a little faster, a little harder.
âDamn, you take my cock so good, pretty girlââ he growls into your mouth. âLove the way you ride me.â He smacks your ass hard, eyes falling to your breast, bouncing up and down with the rhythm of his thrusts. He takes one into his mouth, greedily lapping at your nipple, nipping and sucking and loving the way your cries get louder.
âOh my god, fuck!â
âRide my cock, pretty. You already do it so good. Wanna see you ride me.â Suguru groans. He releases his hold on you, hands coming up to play with your breasts while you bounce wildly on his dick. He lifts your dress, relishing the view of his length, glistening with your slick, vanishes into your tight cunt over and over. âShiiiittttâŠâ
You slip a hand into his tresses, pulling hard and forcing him away from your nipples. You pull so hard Suguru has to close his eyes because the sensation sends goosebumps igniting across his body. That, combined with the way you keep taking him to the tip before slamming down on his cock repeatedly. Fuck, youâre a quick learner.
Your pussy is what it feels like every single time he pulls off a heist successfully. Like fucking heaven. And he never wants to leave it.
His eyes flutter open, just enough to see your breasts bouncing with every rise and fall of your hips. Your velvety walls hug him tight, so fucking good, Suguru thinks he'd like to be able to have you all the time. Hell, he has half a mind to take you with him once theyâre off this damned train. Being able to have you like this any time he wants, watch your body come undone under him, on top of him, in any position youâll let him have you. Heâd even give up this outlaw life if you wanted him to. Settle down, start a family if thatâs what you wanted. The thought of it makes Suguru more excited than heâll ever admit.
Each time your pussy sucks him back in, begging for him to cum, he can suddenly picture a life outside of this. Each time those sexy little noises fall from your sweet lips, he can suddenly envision raising a family with you, building himself a life where he's able to hear those sounds any time he desires.Â
He lets his mind drift to these fantasies while he can, enjoying the feeling of you and the sounds you gift him with.Â
There's a fire pooling in his belly, growing hotter each time his balls meet your ass. He's gonna blow his load here any second. And he can't wait. He wants to cum inside your walls, wants to thrust himself so deep into you that there's no way you're not carrying his child when he's done. Least you'll have something to remember him by if you tell him you donât want shit to do with him after this. A sweet woman like you with a wanted felon? Of course youâd prefer to get your rocks off while you can and move on. Which is fine.
Because Suguru is gonna remember you, anyway. Heâll remember the way you squeeze around him, the way you moan the little nickname youâve given him, the way your cunt feels fucking unlike any other womanâs. Youâve got him mesmerized.Â
So much so, that he doesn't even notice the cool press of steel against the center of his forehead.Â
âOhhh,â you moan, whimpering, âPleaseâŠpleaseâŠwill you put a baby inside me, outlaw?âÂ
Itâs like you read his mind, and Suguruâs eyes snap open, balls tightening as his release threatens to come at any moment. But then his eyes see the stiffness in your arm, see the glimmer of metal as the sunlight reflects off it through the windows, and he finally realizes you've got his gun to his head, and maybe thatâs actually why his balls are tightening. Youâve got this wicked grin on your flushed face as you keep riding him. Hard, fast, walls squeezing him in a vice grip. And he can't do shit but let his eyes roll to the back of his head, let his pleasure race straight down his spine and into his balls as his release shoots from his cock before he has a chance to get ahold of himself.
But you donât let him get a drop inside, lifting yourself smoothly off his lap just as fat, hot streams of cum land messily in his lap and on his stomach. Suguruâs gasping for air, still struggling to figure out what the fuck is going on. And you donât give him a second to catch his breath, to let his mind catch up before youâre wrapping your hand around his cock again, squeezing and stroking his length until heâs so overstimulated his jaw is cramping up from how hard heâs gritting his teeth to keep from crying out.
âWhat the fuck are you ahhhââ you run your thumb over his leaking tip, your eyes alight with joy when his hips buck up automatically, legs trembling as you keep pumping him, though his balls are beyond empty.Â
You tsk, shaking your head as you press the barrel of the gun harder against his skin. âWhereâs that sweet outlaw from before?â You drawl.
Your voice has changed. No longer soft spoken, shy and sweet. The hardness of your tone tells Suguru all he needs to know. The memories come flooding back. And now he realizes why you looked so familiar when he first laid eyes on you.Â
Your face has been plastered on wanted posters in damn near every town he and his partners have stopped in. Murder, robbery, drunkenness, prison escape, cheating at cards. All the crimes that should have you in the town square hanging, youâre wanted for. Somehow, youâve managed to never get caught.
How could he have let his guard down? How could he have fucked up this badly?
âThinking with your dick. Thatâs how.â
âGuess it takes an outlaw to know one,â He grits out, nostrils flared with fury. He can only hope his crew comes through those doors soon, though itâll be fucking humiliating to be caught in this position.
A giggle spills from your lips and the sound makes Suguru sick to his stomach. You donât even sound like the same person from before. âYâall are pretty easy to spot. âSpecially when all yâall think with your cocksââ You echo his thoughts, emphasizing the word by squeezing Suguruâs slowly softening length in your hand. You frown, releasing your hold on him. âHuh, thought youâd be able to gimme another one.â
He inhales deeply, shakily, narrowing his eyes at the woman â the stranger â that stands before him. âEverything you said was a lie, then.â
Itâs not a question. He knows. Because youâre just like him. Maybe even worse.
Laughter bursts from deep within, like what he said was the funniest thing youâve ever heard. âIt really is easy to fool yâall men. Just gotta make our pussies feel reallllll tight and wet and yâall donât question nothinâ.â
You climb off of the seat, taking the gun off his head while you fix your undergarments, unbothered and careless. And Suguru decides to act fast, takes this moment to lunge for you. But he doesnât make it far, because his head is yanked back roughly the moment he jumps forward. His scalp burns, and he reaches back, feeling a thick knot tied around the metal bar that sits atop the train seats. The same metal bar you were just holding onto moments ago.
âYou fuckinâ tied my hair to the seat?!â He growls.
And you chuckle, shifting your dress around until youâre decent again. The gun is pointed back at Suguruâs face, and he puts his hands back down, not daring to try and free himself when youâve got a revolver ready to blow his brains out.
âAnd your hands are next,â you promise in a sing-song voice. You keep your word, spinning around briefly to reach between the wall and your original seat, where youâd apparently hidden a small rope. You make quick work of tying Suguruâs hands behind his back, leaning a little too close to him as you finish the knot.Â
He can feel your breaths against his neck, and right now, if heâs being honest with himself â which he may as well be since he could very well be dead soon â itâs confusing him. Because he feels like he fucking hates you, is repulsed by you, could spit in your face right now. Oh, he really fucking wants to. But something tells him youâd like that anyway. And the thought of your face, depraved and covered in his saliva is making his still exposed length hard again. Even when you tug harshly on the rope for good measure, chuckling low in Suguruâs ear when you hear him hiss in pain, his cock stiffens further.
And of course you notice, your eyes glancing down to his lap, where the sticky mess you left him with lies. âSure you donât wanna go again?â You tease, laughing when Suguru scowls.Â
You like him upset, and probably a little pathetic, because you press your lips to his pout, kissing him hungrily. And apparently, Suguru is as pathetic as he looks, because â and itâs a surprise to him, too â he kisses you back! Your tongues tangle during this brief meeting of your lips, fighting for dominance, though itâs apparent whoâs the one in control here.Â
The filthy moans between you are interrupted when Suguru feels that damned gun under his chin now, applying enough pressure to push him back. Only a line of your mixed saliva connects you two as you stare down at him in amusement.
âLike I saidâŠâ you peer down quickly at Suguruâs lap before whispering. âAaaalways thinkinâ with your cock.â You step back, pointing the gun at him once again.
âWhat do ya want?â He asks, pulling at his restraints to no avail. Heâd love nothing more than to wipe that cocky smile off your face and flip the tables on you, but itâs not looking good for him.
âWhat I wantâŠâ You wiggle the gun in his face, tauntingly. â...is already mine, outlaw.â Thereâs humor in your tone, and your body language is relaxed. You couldnât see Suguru as less of a threat if you tried.
You piss him off.
And make him so fucking hard.
Heâs confused!
The noise of the doors to the train cabin opening can be heard and Suguru grins. Youâre fucked now. Larue is going to put a bullet between your eyes and sure, Suguruâll be sad about it. But better you than him. You were a great fuck, heâll admit. And yes, he entertained the idea of giving you a kid or two, maybe getting a little cabin out in the prairie. But that fantasyâs as dead as youâre about to be. Sad that he wonât beâ
âThe guy with the nipples and the girl have been taken care of, boss!â A chipper voice sings.Â
ThatâŠis not Larue.
Suguru couldnât turn his head if he tried, courtesy of this goddamn knot, but he can see the smirk on your face as you nod. âGreat work, Hime. And the goods?â
âAlready on the move with the others. Just gotta get on the horses when youâre ready.â
You turn your head, staring out the window and nodding again. Out of his peripheral, Suguru can just barely make out the form of two horses, racing alongside the train and he knows heâs screwed.
You sigh, shrugging while feigning sadness as you pout. âWell, outlawâŠlooks like this is the end of the line.â
Suguru tugs at his ropes again, struggling against the holds. âYou gonna leave me here like this?â He gestures with his chin at hisâŠsituation. You must be forgetting his entire dick is out for the world to see. And that youâve tied his hands up. Not to mention his fucking hair! If he has to cut his hair because of thisâŠ
You hum, like youâre actually giving deep thought to his question. Youâre not.
âYeah, actually. Think I am.â You lift your dress, not even pretending to be as innocent as you presented yourself to be when Suguru first laid eyes on you. You tuck his gun into the waistband of your undergarments, patting it affectionately. âThanks for a grand olâ time, outlaw. If you manage to survive this, we can do it again.â
You shoot him a wink before you lean over him, leaving him with one final kiss on the lips. Itâs gentle this time, soft, save for a light nip to his bottom lip that embarrassingly enough, manages to arouse Suguru yet again.Â
âAt least tell me your name,â Suguru grits out through heavy breaths. âSo I can be sure to repay the favor.â
Itâs a threat, but you donât take it as one. You simply smile. Itâs warm, almost reminiscent of the woman he met just earlier. The woman he thought you were. But that look is gone as soon as it appeared. You pat his face gently, reaching across the seat to grab his hat that he had set aside when heâd first sat down. You sit it atop your head, wearing it like some sort of crown, and without another word, you leave.
The train cars open, the roaring rush of the wind filling the space for just a moment before theyâre shut again, and Suguru is left with nothing but his thoughts and his dick literally out. He leans his head back against the seat, closing his eyes to calm his racing heart and honestly to stifle the pain of his untouched erection.
This has been the wildest ride of his life. Definitely the worst heist heâs ever done. And if he does survive this, does manage to somehow talk his way out of charges and prison time, heâs going to find you. Fuck the robberies. Fuck the brothels. Fuck gambling and drinking all day. Yeah, if he manages to survive this, he will make it his lifeâs mission to find you again.
Because even after all is said and done, Suguru thinks he might fucking love you.
#getou suguru x reader#geto smut#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu geto#jujutsu kaisen getou#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen suguru#getou suguru x you#getou suguru x y/n#geto suguru smut#suguru geto x reader#suguru x reader#suguru geto x y/n#suguru getou x reader#suguru geto x you#jujutsu kaisen fic#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk fic#suguru getou smut#getou smut#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk x y/n#anime x reader#anime smut#jjk x you#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#suguru geto smut
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forever and a day | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem long distance reader
nothing can separate them, except maybe 9,000 miles and a couple of oceans.
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
oscarpiastri
liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 893,209 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: finally back in the homeland and reunited with my girl
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user1: oscary/n nation we are so back
user2: australia always does us so well
yourusername: can you convince mclaren that they should keep paying for our dates
oscarpiastri: i think we were technically working
yourusername: were we? it never feels like work being with you
oscarpiastri: you didn't notice all of the people around us and filming us?
yourusername: i only have eyes for you osc, we know this
oscarpiastri: hehehhehehehee
yourusername: also i have to completely commit you to memory before you fuck off for another couple of months
oscarpiastri: you could always just come with me
yourusername: let me get my degree first, one of us has to be educated osc
oscarpiastri: i have my a-levels? lando doesn't even have gcses
landonorris: why am i catching a stray?
yourusername: because my boyf is smart
landonorris: i've got street smarts đ©
oscarpiastri: you've been catfished like five times already and nearly had your bank details stole?
landonorris: well ... i like to see the best in people?
user3: thank you mclaren for giving us the oscar and y/n content
user4: and the proof that love still exists
user5: terminally lonely girls block mclaren, oscar and y/n.- it's for your mental health
user6: or if you have commitment issues this is some good exposure therapy
logansargeant: oh who did you force to be your photographer this time?
yourusername: you never learnt reading comprehension in school?
logansargeant: i can read i just choose not to read the soppy shit you and oscar say to each other
oscarpiastri: leave us alone
yourusername: you have a problem with us no matter what đ€š
logansargeant: do NOT make me the bad guy for complaining about hearing your guys' sexy time
oscarpiastri: we spend A LOT of time away from each other
yourusername: and by the sounds of it, you could learn a lot
logansargeant: you know what WHATEVER
user7: they terrorise logan so much from opposite sides of the world, pray for him when she can travel with oscar
yourusername
liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 83,409 others
yourusername: i love any piece of you osc but the separation anxiety is kicking my ass
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user9: oscar gave y/n a plush of himself
user10: no cause he's literally such a black cat
yourusername: he blushes just like that as well
user11: oh really?
user12: want to share with the class
yourusername: that's for my eyes only
oscarpiastri: i'm glad he got to you safely
yourusername: i just about tackled the postman đ
oscarpiastri: poor graham, we should get him a better christmas gift this year
yourusername: yeah sorry graham but you sprayed the kitty with your cologne and i can't be held responsible for my feral behaviour
user13: they get their postman christmas gifts?
user14: they have the same postman?
user15: yes, y/n lives with his family
user16: really?
yourusername: they can't get rid of me
oscarpiastri: they also love her as much as i do (literally, i have to fight my sisters to spend time with y/n)
landonorris: so this is why we were waiting so long for you at the airport
oscarpiastri: well, yes. it's very important i get y/n a souvenir
landonorris: i could've slept for like an hour longer?
yourusername: just because you don't understand true romance lando đ€š
landonorris: i know romance!
yourusername: maccies in a hotel room is not romance
landonorris: you guys are just freaks about each other that's not my fault
user17: y/n hanging out with oscar's sisters is so precious
user18: if they aren't married soon i will no longer believe in love
user19: they're 23?
user20: tbf i forget that because they've been together since they were like 15
logansargeant
liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 351,904 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
logansargeant: oscar forced me to post this so y/n could 'remember how hot he is while he's away at war'
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user21: oh wow... thank you logan!
user22: this is not exactly what i was expecting when i opened instagram but alas i'm not complaining
yourusername: WOOF WOOF WOOF
oscarpiastri: đ€đ€đ€
logansargeant: someone please remind me why i'm friends with you two
yourusername: because we're your only friends?
yourusername: wait sorry that was mean
yourusername: i just get protective
logansargeant: you're telling me đ€š
oscarpiastri: i'm swooning đ„°đ©·
logansargeant: i give up
alexalbon: why am i a part of this oscar thirst trap? why are you posting a thirst trap of oscar?
yourusername: HE'S A GOOD FRIEND
alexalbon: i didn't consent to be part of your weird long distance lust
yourusername: oh girl ain't no one looking at you when oscar is there
alexalbon: you know what you're mean :( i want you to stay in australia
yourusername: i promise i'm a lot nicer when i'm with osc, the distance makes me cranky
alexalbon: i see, remind me to never take oscar out in a race
logansargeant: i think that's wise - i heard her yelling down the phone about carlos
yourusername: i had to block him to stop myself
user23: i am honestly so confused
user24: i think we just let them do it, we'll never understand
landonorris: do NOT ask me to do this @oscarpiastri
yourusername: booooooo you're such a debbie downer
oscarpiastri: he's just s fuckboy he doesn't understand
landonorris: i don't think i'll ever understand you two
yourusername
liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 119,056 others
yourusername: one degree hotter xx
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user26: fucking finally now we can get y/n in the paddock every weekend
liked by oscarpiastri
user27: mclaren social media team seen celebrating just as much
oscarpiastri: and i didn't think it was possible for you to get any hotter
yourusername: maybe a piastri jersey?
oscarpiastri: and a ring?
yourusername: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
yourusername: you know i'll never say no to that
yourusername: do nOT propose through an instagram comment oscar - nicole
oscarpiastri: noted đ
yourusername: but name the time and the place and i'll be there baby
user28: so we could defo get a y/noscar proposal this season
user29: i would be so insufferable it's unbelievable
user30: the way i just know it was killing oscar not being able to go
user31: did you guys see the kicked dog eyes in the paddock yesterday đđđ
oscarpiastri: they had to force me on the plane
landonorris: no they legit were about to call mick or pato
user32: did y/n convince you to not run away to australia?
oscarpiastri: maybe ....
charles_leclerc: ummmmm who is this oscar? why hasn't your father been introduced?
yourusername: HI
oscarpiastri: y/n is the love of my life and you SHOULD be able to meet her next race weekend
yourusername: so have i also got another father-in-law?
charles_leclerc: you seem to terrorise the other drivers a lot so - yeah!
yourusername: at your service (unless it's you hitting oscar, then there's no MERCY)
charles_leclerc: okay you are kinda scary wtf
oscarpiastri
liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 1,203,677 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: unbelievably proud of you and everything you've done darling. i'm so sorry i couldn't be there to celebrate with you, but i'll make it up to you before you know it xx
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user33: oh to be loved like this
user34: they make me feel lonely like the world apart i can only imagine how insane it'll be when they're back together 24/7
yourusername: i love you so so so much osc. you've done more than you could know by supporting me through my education. we have the rest of our lives to be together, so don't beat yourself about it now
oscarpiastri: but i'm so proud of you and just wanted to be there to celebrate you :(
yourusername: osc i can feel you pouting through the screen baby
landonorris: he really is and it's kinda annoyingly cute
yourusername: of course it's cute it's oscar đ
landonorris: right so i'll take back my congratulations then
yourusername: FINE BY ME
user35: obsessed with how y/n and lando already have this weird sibling bond
user36: it's the weird relationship that you kind of love between your gf and friend
user37: it's all cute until they actually fight
yourusername: if he makes any wrong step against oscar i'll crush that loser
landonorris: ahhaaha funny joke
yourusername: you're a 5'5 twig, i could snap you in half
user38: i need them to recreate the last photo when oscar wins his first race
user39: i think pinterest would explode
yourusername: no but no joke, i love you so much osc and i can't wait to start the new chapter of our life
oscarpiastri: i love you too xx
oscarpiastri: sorry to my sisters but they're losing their live in stylist because you're never ever leaving me ever again
oscarpiastri: that makes me sound like a possessive asshole but i just have attachment issues
yourusername: no these years since you started in f3 have been actual hell without you and i never want to leave your side again
yourusername: i just love watching you do what you love
oscarpiastri: i'll always love you more
user40: who's chopping onions wtf
user41: i'm invoicing them for my therapy
mclarenf1
liked by fredvesti, arthurleclerc and 1,256,046 others
tagged: yourusername
mclarenf1: don't tell oscar but we've got a surprise guest for him đ€«
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user45: take me out back and shoot me please and thank you
user46: so real of you
landonorris: is this why his phone is currently hidden in my drivers room?
mclarenf1: maybe ...
landonorris: if he fights me for it that's on you guys
mclarenf1: wait admin has just realised you definitely shouldn't be on your phone
landonorris: LOL
user47: mclaren you better not fuck this race for oscar because i need my big rom com ending kiss in parc ferme
user48: omg romance writers do i have a plot for you
user49: the way this would seem so unrealistic if i read it in a book but these fools really have been together for like eight years and are unbelievably in love
yourusername: heheheheh thanks for flying me out on such late notice xx
mclarenf1: no worries queen
yourusername: you guys better be on top form, you can't hide from me in the garage
mclarenf1: hahahaha đ
đ
đ
user50: is y/n the reincarnation of nicole scherzinger? like a wag that goes fucking mental
user51: and wears team merch with pride
yourusername: nicole is a queen (thank you for one direction queen) but you guys do not want me on the microphone
user52: you and oscar karaoke? please?
yourusername: we once did breaking free together but you'll have to bother logan for that video
user53: OSCAR PLEASE WIN AND DO DRUNK KARAOKE
oscarpiastri
liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,556,308 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: i told you she was my lucky charm. overjoyed to get my first win, it's a dream come true and to have the love of my life with me makes it even sweeter. y/n, i'll love you forever and a day x
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user54: CONGRATS OSCAR đ§Ąđ§Ąđ§Ą
user55: i'm having such a proud mum moment
user56: tears in my eyes
user57: not as much as y/n that girl was going THROUGH IT
user58: we need her mascara, cause that shit didn't budge
yourusername: I AM SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU OSCAR
yourusername: I LOVE YOU SO MUCH
yourusername: AND THANK YOU FOR WAITING FOR ME TO BE AT A RACE TO WIN
oscarpiastri: i guess i just knew in my bones you were here and simply had to win
oscarpiastri: i just wanted to see you so bad that i drove the fastest to the finish line
yourusername: well tell them to hurry up and debrief so we can celebrate đ
oscarpiastri: ON MY WAY
user59: maybe we will get that karaoke?
logansargeant: congrats bro! @landonorris i hope you brought some ear plugs, if not you might want to start drinking now
landonorris: SOMEONE GET ME A DRINK STAT
yourusername: i'll personally buy you a drink because i'm going to rock his world tonight
oscarpiastri: đđđ
landonorris: and here i thought you were my little innocent teammate
yourusername: there's nothing little about him
landonorris: EWWWW GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY FACE
yourusername: all celebrations aside, i'm so proud and i'll love you forever and always x
oscarpiastri: it's always been you and it will always be you
yourusername: i love you
oscarpiastri: i love you too
fin.
note: WOOOOOOOOOO OSCAR!!! (i'm ignoring everything else to do with the race, oscar is my king)
#f1 imagine#f1 instagram au#f1 x reader#f1 x you#f1 social media au#f1#oscar piastri instagram au#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri social media au
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In Safe Arms
Bodyguard!Azriel x Celebrity!Reader
Summary:Â Anon Req: Hey ! Ik u are hella busy and I am so proud of ur for ur publication , but if u ever get time could u do a Celebrity reader x bodyguard az?
Warnings: N/A
Word Count: 2390
_________________________________________
âI said back the fuck off!â Azriel growls, and you know for a fact that the paparazzi whoâs been steadily inching closer and closer throughout the night has landed himself on your bodyguards shit list.
Azrielâs hand doesnât leave the small of your back, no matter how much he wants to lunge across the sidewalk and knock the fucking camera out of this goonâs hands. The manâs been harassing you all week, from the moment you stepped off the plane in New York, getting testier and testier with his shots, following you from your hotel to your shoots, to parties and bars and back to your hotel late into the evening hours. He doesnât know how the man finds the time to sleep, honestly.
And he knows itâs the same one following you around, not only because itâs his job to remember people that might prove to be a threat to you, but because heâd never forget this fucking scumbagâs face.
You duck your head lower, pressing Azrielâs handkerchief tightly to your eyebrow. Thereâs blood dripping into your eye from whatever it was a fan tossed your way as soon as youâd stepped foot out of your SUV. Azriel had been turned toward you, lending you a helping hand from the vehicle when it struck. He whirled around, but it was too late, the coward had slunk off into the crowd before he could sniff them out like a bloodhound.
And Azriel was livid.
If your father had just hired two bodyguards to protect you instead of one, this wouldnât have happened.
Not that Azriel isnât qualified to keep you safe by himself. With six years of training with the Royal Marines under his belt, heâs more than capable. Heâs carried injured men across his back for miles when there was no hope of getting out for fuckâs sake. But this is a new playing field entirely. Youâre the most well-known celebrity heâs had the pleasure of working with, and when your father didnât heed his advice that one bodyguard was not enough, he knew he was going to be in for a challenge.
A challenge that heâs failed tonight.
You let him lead you blindly, trying your best to block out your surroundings: the screaming fans begging for a picture or autograph, the stream of liquid youâre desperately trying to blink from your eye and soak up with the rag. Your heart is pounding loudly in your chest, breathing shallow pants, and the only thing keeping you from collapsing right onto the concrete outside of your hotel is Azrielâs strong hand at your back, guiding you to safety. Â
âAlmost there,â he murmurs at your back, and your shoulders slacken slightly at the familiarity of his voice cutting through all the other noises that pierce your ears. âOnly a few more steps and weâll be in the lobby.â
Heâs right, the concierge is holding the door open just enough for the both of you to slip through, and when it shuts tightly behind you, muffling off the loud wails and camera flashes, you release a shaky breath.
âMiss, are you okay?â The man asks, concern lacing his tone, like his job is on the line because someone decided to toss something at your face. âDo you need me to call the policââ
âNo, no,â you blurt frantically, waving him off. âThatâs not necessary.â
â(Y/N)ââ Azriel tries to cut in, and you know that this is something heâs going to have to report to his boss. Concern laces his tone, not for his job, but for you, because youâre injured and shaking in the middle of the lobby, looking like an abandoned puppy left to wilt in the rain. âI think you shouldââ
âNo, Az,â you choke out, finally lifting your gaze from the floor to meet his. The look he wears makes your breath catch in your throat, but looking at him always does. Heâs beautiful. And completely off limits.
His thick, straight brows are the only thing that gives his concern away. Thereâs a wrinkle between them that you want to reach out and smooth with the pad of your finger. His mouth is set in a firm line, not unusual for the stoic man. And his eyes, well his eyes are roiling with anger, hot coals ready to combust.
You donât even care that youâve called him the name you shouldnât. Youâre not supposed to address him by his name at all, let alone the nickname youâve secretly become fond of. Right now, though, youâre much to shaken to realize your slip up, and heâs too worried about your wound to correct you.
âPlease,â you beg, tears brimming your eyes. His tall, built frame conceals you from the people still lingering outside, and he spots that fucking paparazzi from the corner of his eye, smirking in the window as he cranes as far as he can to be the first to get a shot at your injury. âI want to go to my room.â
Youâre already pulling the cloth from your face, and heâs quick to reach out and press it back, all too aware of the people around. Any one of them could spill the beans, could secretly be listening or recording, ready to make a quick buck off your horrendous night. Fucking assholes, all of them.
âOkay,â he consoles, glaring harshly at the concierge when he opens his mouth to protest. The manâs jaw snaps shut with an audible click, and he scurries away. Returning his attention to you, one hand pinning yours and the cloth youâre clutching to your face, he urges you toward the elevator. âLetâs get you upstairs.â
The doors chime open, and after getting you on safely and pushing the button to the suite on the top floor of the building, Azriel shoots one last menacing look to the paparazzi thatâs still standing out front. Heâs going to have a few phone calls tonight, with the hotel security and the local police, because he doesnât want that fuck anywhere near you ever again.
The sleazy pap has the gall to wink at Azriel before the doors shut between you and the man he knows will be standing in that exact spot come the morning when itâs time for you to leave again.
The ride is long, and with the adrenaline draining from your system, youâre exhausted. Azriel lets you sag against him, and you trust him so fully that you let your eyes drift shut, allowing him to guide you through your room and straight into the bathroom so that he can take care of your wound.
You crack your eyes open when he lifts you to rest on the counter before dropping to his knees and helping you out of your heels. Your feet scream happily, and your body ignites at the sight of him on his knees before you.
Standing, he shoves the sleeves of his thick, black shirt up over his elbows, exposing those strong forearms youâd had the pleasure of peeking at for the last few months. Thatâs not the only thing youâve noticed about Azriel. There are scars on his hands, bad ones. You donât know what theyâre from, but youâre aching to know. To learn anything about the man whoâs been your bodyguard for the better part of this year.
âI think you should go home,â Azriel says softly. Or, as softly as someone like him can. It sounds harsh, gruff, but you know he doesnât mean it like a demand. Heâs concerned in his own way.
âI canât pull out of my appearances, thatâll only make me look worse,â you argue, sliding back onto the counter he guides you to. People already hate you enough for the rift that Azriel has caused in your relationship with superstar Tamlin Oleander. Having an attractive man protecting you has not only made the man your team is paying to be with you insecure, but heâs been twisting this story for too long already. Pulling out of your appearances now will only give the fans another reason to pick and tear at you.
He scrubs his hands hard with the bar of soap in the sink before toweling them off and looking at your injury.
Thereâs a split above your eyebrow. Face wounds bleed a lot, he tells himself, smothering the memory that rises at the sight. Except that that injury was about an inch lower, and his comrade didnât make it out alive.
âWho cares about looking worse,â Azriel scoffs. This time, he speaks harsher, but his movements against your face are still soft. The sting is barely there because youâre focusing on the buzz his fingertips brushing your skin provide. Youâre focusing on the soft spot in his hazel eyes as he examines your wound, his breath against your skin. Itâs dizzying. And not from the blood loss. âYou should care about being safe.â
Neither of you brings up that itâs his job to do just that, but it sits heavily in the room anyway, sucking all the air from the expansive bathroom.
He swallows harshly, refusing to look at you. He busies himself with plucking a few butterfly bandages from the first aid kit beside him. The split skin above your eyebrow aches when he pinches the slice together to apply the bandage. âIâll call down to the lobby to see if thereâs someplace more private we can meet the car to take you to the hospital. Youâre going to need a stitch or two.â
âAzriel, wait,â you call, grabbing for his hand when he turns to leave the room. You know exactly whatâs going to happen when he crosses over that threshold. âPlease donât call him.â
He allows you to stop him, but he doesnât turn to face you. He canât. Canât bear to look at you when his failure is staring right back at him. He let you get hurt, and heâll never forgive himself for it.
Azrielâs body is too still, and his tone is too even when he answers. âI have to.â
âYou donât,â you plead, clutching him tighter. If he calls your father and tells him about what happened tonight you know youâll never see him again, and if you never see him again, youâll be fucking miserable. Youâve found comfort in Azrielâs presence throughout the time youâve been working together, and heâs the only one whoâs been able to see through the façade you put on, the personality youâve spent so long pretending to be. He sees you.
âI do.â
âWhy?â You donât care that youâre getting worked up, that you voice is becoming louder with your desperation. That your nails are biting into the skin of his arm because you refuse to let him walk away from you.
Azriel whirls, and you startle back a step. But you donât let him go, you never want to let him go. You take him with you, and he goes tripping forward with how youâve caught him off guard.
He stumbles into you and his hands find your waist, steadying you against the counter. His grip on you is tight. His eyes defeated.
âI couldnât protect you tonight,â he admits, and you can hear the heartbreak in his voice, you can almost see the memories that resurface, threatening to drag him under. âYou need someone who can.â
âYou can, Azriel! Itâs an isolated incident!â Youâre desperately trying to get him to see reason, scrabbling your fingers at his shirt, dragging him even further into you. Tears slide down your face, and for the first time of the night, youâre afraid. You werenât scared when Azriel was the one there, jumping into action, but now, thinking that he might leave you, youâre terrified.
âIt wonât be,â he sighs, brushing his fingers softly over yours, trying to calm you down lest you reopen your wound. âNow that itâs happened, other will try, and I canât have you getting hurt, sweetheart. I canât protect you like I thought I could.â
Neither of you catch his slip of the tongue, too caught up in the emotions for it to register.
You canât swallow back the sob. You try to bury your face in his shirt, but Azriel catches you gently around the shoulders, keeping you from hurting yourself.
His hands are calloused and strong, you can feel the ridges of the scarring that paints them. So tender, so cruel, so soft.
âI donât want you to leave me,â you admit, blinking your tears away to meet his gaze. You donât care that your makeup is probably a mess with your tears and whateverâs left of the blood, and Azriel doesnât care because he still thinks youâre the most beautiful woman heâs ever seen.
Azriel presses his forehead against yours, swiping your tears with his thumbs. âI wonât,â he promises, âI canât.â
Your breath hitches in your throat, and just like that, youâre staring up and him and heâs staring back at you like youâre the most prized possession in this hotel, in this world.
He doesnât know when he fell for you, if it was the way you tried to find the cracks in his stoic exterior between photoshoots and interviews, or if itâs the way you opened yourself up for him only, showed him the real you.
Youâre nothing like the way youâre portrayed in the media. None of those fucking people know how big your heart is, how much youâve been hurt, how much you care.
And heâd lie down his life to keep you safe and whole.
âPromise me.â You breathe. Your lips brush his as you speak, and the gentle touch sends shockwaves up your spine. You follow their current, lengthening your spine, pushing closer to Azriel. His hands tighten on your hips, and you spread your legs wider for him so slot himself between.
He does with a jagged breath, like heâs trying to hold himself back but is unable. His hazel eyes bore into yours and you see the war there, how he wants to go against everything he vowed not to do with you. He shouldnât be anywhere near you like thisâŠbut he canât help himself.
âI promise,â he says, along with âfuck itâ in his head, and leans down to capture your lips against his.
#acotar#azsazz#acomaf#acowar#azriel#azriel x reader#azriel/reader#modern!azriel#bodyguard!azriel#modern azriel au
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Wouldnât it be funny if Reader shows just a tiny amount of happiness to any one of the batfam, and the next thing you know they try their best to make Reader to do it again.
Example:
Dick:Makes a silly joke
Reader: Actually smiles and laughs at it
Dick: gloats about it to the fam
The BatFam: practically on all fours chasing after Reader to try and make them laugh
Donât stress out with your writings (btw love your âagain & againâ seriesâ€ïž)
Take your time and donât forget to drink waterđ«¶đ«¶đ«¶
laughter is the best medicine
ft. yan! dick grayson, jason todd, and damian wayne
â masterlist !
more beneath the cut ! fluff ? with a mix of yandereness is my thing hehe. i love this ask sm <3 you guys are being fed well today !!!
reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
ugh they're the definition of giving someone an inch and they'll be taking a mile. it would especially be annoying if it were dick on the receiving end of the line. but even if he'd be the one you'd take most precaution to, don't underestimate just how much your opinion holds the most value in the family. so they'll most definitely gloat about their achievement of making you smile or hell, even leaning against their shoulder willingly calls for a celebration.
trust me when i say that living in a stuffy manor already sucks, and they don't exactly like seeing you sulk and merely rot in your bed all day. so like any loving family would do, they'll try their damn best to at least see a quirk of your mouth or that faint glimmer in your that dick oh-so enchantingly talk about.
so it comes to them in the form of a surprise that one day, when your oldest brother accidentally trips over one of your expensive novelty ballpen, instead of nearly shouting at him for breaking one of your favorites, it was the "oomph!" sound his throat makes and his wide eyes when his ass directly landed on the floor that makes you crack into small giggles.
if it weren't for his enhanced hearing, dick would've crossed out your laughter as a hallucination, a product of imagination, something entirely impossible to produce, but no.
he had proven himself wrong.
once he turns back at you, he sees the crinkle of your eyes and your palm trying to cover your shit eating grin. the plump of your cheeks are so accentuated that he forgets the initial embarrassment he feels in the first place, replaced with awe at just how artfully captivating his sibling looks; sitting by
it's like a painting, he wishes it was. he wishes tim would be quick enough to capture the succession of your smiles in the live camera feed.
all because he couldn't believe it. couldn't believe that his baby bird is laughing. they're laughing and they look so mirthful and full of life when doing so.
yes, you're laughing at him, at his stupidity for being unable to detect a mere ballpen despite being trained to locate every known obstacle in a field.
but fuck, he was already raised at a circus to fulfill the role of an acrobat who entertains the crowd. what more could it be if that means he could play the role of a clown for you, his baby bird worth more than a thousand lives, whose laughter is equivalent to the immense euphoria that is filling his entire being?
give him an inch and he'll take an entire mile.
the next day, you'd be greeted with... a lot of peculiar instances within your family. all of which you would laugh at because it's not typical that your family displays mistakes, and you feel a bit better about yourself when their imperfections seem to seep out of their beingâ or maybe it's just your thoughts eating you up again, because is it just you or did jason, tim, and even damian, manage to at least trigger a reaction out of you?
tim would accidentally end up drinking orange juice right after brushing his teeth. his cringing expression, choked gargling and immense spitting is enough to guarantee a light chuckle from your seated form as you ate your cereal in peace, watching him as he tries to rid of the bitter taste on his tongue. although, bitter as it may, the sweetness and the aching of his tooth overpowers the regret he fills for gulping an entire bottle of orange juice down his throat.
he's so glad that he had set up multiple cameras and recorders at different angles prior to your time spent with him because he just couldn't stop watching your reaction in loop whilst he tried to continue his investigations within gotham's latest crime news. yet no matter how hard he attempts to control himself, his eyes couldn't stop looming over to your form, finding your reaction too incredibly cute to be ignored. yeah, he'll do his duties later. for now, he just needs to... screenshot every single frame of your expressions.
jason isn't much of a joker but when reading you one of your favorite stories, he had managed to mispronounce one of the words so badly that it ruined the narrative of the classical book he was voice acting for you. it was a stupid thing to laugh at, but for a guy like jason, who was an english nerd in his very prime, it would be hilariousâ especially when his gothamite accent seeps into his vocabulary; which is very unbefitting for the voice of a character who was a princess that loves to wear frilly, pink dresses.
imagine a man, with a growl that vibrates through his skull, and muscles that bulge through his shirt, voices a princess of all people! his high pitched register for the character was already grating to your ears, but the sudden shift from an airy and girlish to deep and gruff with an added effect of a voice crack at the word "cake" was enough to let you burst out into laughs, your giggles echoing through the comfortable silence of the manor's library. for the first time in a while, you let jason wrap his arms around your shoulder, asking for your input about his tremendous acting skills.
jason never had many moments to cherish within the manor, preferring to stay over and outside of bruce's radar, but god does he love going through the batcave's live feed just to zoom in on your expressions, the grin on your face heavily reminds him of himself, back when he was the oblivious robin with no idea of what was coming to him. yet only now, he swears to protect your smile from never faltering.
damian takes his artistry skills seriously, constantly making a show of bragging to you whenever he has the opportunity to. but this time, he was incredibly pissed at drake for accidentally squeezing all the paint from the tube of oil paints he had stored by the drawers, and it was a shade closest to your skin tone, too; he meant to use that tube of paint for his next portrait of you. so like the petty child he is, damian sets on an hour long routine of drawing tim with monstrous features that screams the opposite of what he sports.
that means he had drawn multiple variants of tim with a hideous, actual bowl cut one. no seriously, his hair was a bowl and the strands that peeked out of it were spaghetti strands. in another drawing, his red robin outfit consists of plucked feathers and an elongated beak for its mask, what seems to be the pocket for the eyes now replaced with cat-like slits that makes the vigilantes expression looker idiotic and downright stupid. yet it felt therapeutic for damian to draw that his brother with what he felt was enough revenge to exact upon drake. that scum deserved a horrendously made portrait of him.
what he didn't expect was that you had stumbled upon his atelier, wanting to cure your boredom by painting a scenery when all of a sudden you had to drop all your equipment from your hands because... what the fuck was damian painting...? why is tim crawling across the floor in one of the portraits...? it takes a second or two for you to register the drawing's very detailed portrayal of a literal bowl cut, your laughter bursting out of the seams because no fucking way did damian actually draw something so hilarious and unserious. if you were anybody else, damian would've kicked your shins so violently you would've required a visit to the hospital. but because it's you... he chooses to sulk in the corner with puffed cheeks and burning ears as you approach the painting with said curiosity of a child and a laughter you can't stifle so easily.
at least it got you to stay in the same room as him for about an hour, with you giving your youngest brother more ideas to make the drawings even more unsettling than they already were, to which damian takes your tips to heart.
after you had eagerly (and shyly) showed the entire family you and damian's shared creation of a monstrosity, tim swears he'll never squeeze a tube of damian's paint anymore.
#đš... yael's talking#đ§... yael's misc.#series: again & again#yandere dc#yandere batfam#yandere dick grayson#yandere jason todd#yandere tim drake#yandere damian wayne#yandere batman#yandere batboys#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x gn reader#yandere x male reader#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#yandere x darling#platonic yandere#doing the core-four for now bec i dont want to spoil much#i rlly have a unique talent of turning any ask into a long post don't i....
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Manfred Von Karma did not burn Phoenix's letters to Miles.
Like, I'm not even saying this to defend Manfred's character (though the fanbase does get a little crazy with what he actually did and didn't do) I'm saying this because that's not canon. I'm not sure it was even possible in canon.
Phoenix didn't write letters to Germany. He didn't know Miles was in Germany, let alone Von Karma's address. He didn't even know who Von Karma was until Edgeworth told him about Manfred in Turnabout Goodbyes.
In the game canon, Miles just stopped showing up to school one day. All Phoenix seemed to know was that he transferred schools suddenly. He didn't know why or where to. Remember, Phoenix didn't even hear about DL-6 until Turnabout Sisters when Maya mentioned her family's involvement.
Even in the anime canon (I haven't watched the anime in a while so I might be off about this) where Phoenix and Miles get a chance to properly say goodbye, Phoenix still doesn't have a direct means of contacting him. His best way of doing so was dedicating a song through the radio using Signal Samurai codenames and hoping Miles would hear it.
Phoenix mentions trying to contact him several times when explaining their relationship to Maya, but this was after finding out Miles was this "Demon Attorney". Miles would have to be at least 20 at this point in time, living back in California with at least a few trials under his belt. With how young he reached success, it's not impossible Miles was living on his own at the time. Even if he wasn't, I doubt Manfred was going through this grown adult's mail.
No, what the game seems to be implying is that Miles ignored Phoenix. (Maya even says, "I guess he didn't want to hear from his old friends.") And I don't think this was out of hatred or anything, I think Miles just wanted to forget his past entirely because even the good memories of his childhood would be bittersweet at best.
And to be honest that makes it even more tragic to me. Why do we need Manfred to intercept their connection when Miles' trauma and guilt complex is already doing that?
I like to think Miles knew Phoenix would be asking questions if he ever responded to those initial attempts at contact. Questions he of course doesn't want to answer because they'd at best open old wounds or at worst risk his childhood friend finding out he might have committed patricide.
I also like to think he knew Phoenix of all people would stubbornly try to find the answers Miles wouldn't willingly give because he literally mentions Phoenix always being "single minded in his work" and "always seeing things through to the end". If anyone was going to press and bring those uncomfortable and painful memories out in the open for the sake of "helping him", it would be Phoenix Wright.
Why do we need Manfred to take away all that complexity and tragedy? That is such a waste!
#also Manfred didnât know who Phoenix was#even when they were opposing council he didnât recognize him outside of court#yes it's fine to bend canon when writing fanfic of course#but like it's so overdone and accepted as canon#just...guys there is so much angst and amazing character study RIGHT THERE#why do we need a villain to do something so petty when there's enough angst in canon characterization#god if i could write maybe I'd make a fanfic about this fhfhdh#feral yapping hours#manfred von karma#miles edgeworth#phoenix wright#wrightworth#narumitsu#ace attorney
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not sure if you allow it, but how does wriothesly react when the reader uses their safe word during an intense session?
tags : fem!reader, smut, crying, use of safeword, aftercare, comfort, +18
It's hot in the room, the constant gurgling of the pipes reminding you that WRIOTHESLEY must have turned up the heating higher than usual. Then why is your body shivering, with goosebumps all over your skin? You can't see him, can't hear him because he has barely talked to you ever since he's returned from his office. Yet you feel his large, intimidating form loom over your body from behind. You can't speak, can barely breathe with his constricting hand around your throat that somehow seems to get tighter by every passing second.
He's immune to your whimpers, to the tears rolling down your cheeks. With each forceful thrust of his, you hear the bed creak and feel your knees get weaker, your body loosing strength until you're nothing but a limp toy for him. You want to get up, push him away, but the grip his other hand has on your wrists while holding them behind your back- He's just too strong.
That's when even the last ounce of pleasure leaves your body and you're left with nothing but dread and panic. "Red, p-please." you barely recognise your own voice, hoarse and frightened. "No more, please, red."
The pressure on your windpipes is gone instantly. You realise it, not by the oxygen that is easier entering your airways, no, because you still feel like you're suffocating. You realise it because his warmth is as well gone in an instant. W-Where did he go?
Rough hands are all over your body, yet they treat you with so much care, helping you turn and lie on your back, soothing down your thighs. One of them at last settles on your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing it and wiping the tears away. "Y/n? Sweetheart, you with me?"
You sniffle and press the heels of your palms against your eyes, your chest shaking with more sobs that won't stop racking your body. "I'm sorry, 'm so sorry. I-I don't even know-"
"No, no, don't apologise. There's nothing to be sorry for." Your brain still feels foggy as you finally look over at Wriothesley who's crouching beside the bed, giving you enough space to breathe yet still having his hands all over you, not wanting to let you go. Nonetheless, you're able to notice the tension in his posture, in his facial expressions. "Just try to relax, alright? You're okay now." his hand shifts to your hair, fingers combing through the messy strands until they settle on your scalp, soothingly massaging you there. "You did good. It was too much, wasn't it?"
"Couldn't breathe." you whisper and realise that you feel so small in his presence, but not in an inferior way. Wriothesley may look all brutish and intimidating with a strength that could crush any allegedly impenetrable door in the fortress, but you're well aware that he would never use that strength against people that he cares about. "And, uhm-"
Piercing blue eyes watch as you nervously fiddle with the blanket that he has covered you with. But the little peck he gives you on your shoulder tells you that he wants to let you have a breather and take as much time as you need to sort your thoughts. "You seemed a-angry. You were so quiet and, I don't know. It was..."
"Scary?" he finishes for you, a gentle and reassuring smile plastered on his face that alleviates the pressure on your chest.
"Yeah."
Silence invades the bedroom for a short moment, making you forget that you're miles beneath the water surface, that the room which you share with him belongs to a prison, that a few moments prior your body has been in a fight-or-flight mode. The silence reminds you that you're safe and that all of this, all of him, is home. "Will you come back to bed? And hold me?"
Wriothesley's eyes soften at your request and the timid sound of your voice. "Of course, my love." His knees pop when he eventually gets up, pressing a fleeting kiss on your temple before he picks his pants up from the floor and puts them on. Despite the previous events, you can't help but feel a light heat creep up your neck when you get a sight of his naked buttocks.
"Careful with those wandering eyes. I might think you want to continue where we left off." Wriothesley chuckles when you pull the blanket over your head, a futile attempt to hide your embarrassed expression.
"Come here." the mattress dips beside you and you let him tug the blanket off your head. The warmth and smell of his make you sigh in contentment once he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. "I'm the one who should apologise. I was not aware of how much I was hurting you."
The teasing smirk and brief leisurely attitude are gone, replaced by a seriousness that you usually only get to see when he's handling work related matters. He kisses your face again and again, further silent apologies that he hopes will lessen the pain inside your chest. And his. "I was a little irritated, yes, but that had nothing to do with you. Some inmates got their hands on a few bottles of wine." he explains. "Those drunkards started spewing lots of nonsense when I confronted them about it."
What did they say?" you inquire quietly, your eyes slowly but surely feeling heavier. With a palm against his naked chest, you notice the rapid heartbeat but decide to not give it any mind, since Wriothesley's tender strokes along your back are truly not making it easy for you to stay awake and think straight.
He stops his movements for a short moment, clenching and unclenching his fist as his eyes trail over the red, irritated skin of his knuckles.
"Your grace has turned quite soft." "Your little mouse must be doing a great job in bed, huh?" "Why don't you lend her to us? I'm sure we could teach her a thing or two?"
"Nothing you should worry your head about." his voice is merely a whisper as his lips move against your forehead before he buries his nose in your hair and resumes to trace more soothing shapes on your lower back.
a/n : thank you for your patience, dear anon! hope you'll see this since your request has been sitting for a while in my inbox-
#jinx approves. I post.#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley genshin impact#genshin wriothesley#wriothesley genshin#wriothesley#wriothesley smut#wriothesley comfort#wriothesley x you#genshin impact wriothesley#genshin smut
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sfw. warnings: obsessive behavior, slight stalking, jealousy, saiki uses his powers for selfish reasons, etc.
authorâs note: oh, donât mind me, just writing some headcanons if saiki was ever a yandere.
âą you and saiki first met in chĆ«gakkĆ, junior high, but he didnât fall in love with you until a few years later when you two were already in pk academy. maybe itâs all the accidentally bumping into him, dropping your papers and saiki being the one to help you pick them up, making awkward eye contact in class, hanging out with one another outside of school, or touching on the same snack you both are aiming for at either the vending machine or at the store... all the things somehow have you involved these recent days and saiki is less than impressed at first
âą saiki has always stated time and time again that he personally does not think he will not fall in love, so he always watches others who are in love and help them if he can, but here he isâŠcompletely captivated by you of all people. he didnât know why though, was the author just really that bored?
âą good grief
⚯ . âș ⊠âč êł âș ⧠⚯. âș ⊠âč . * êł âŠ âč ⚯ . âș ⊠âč êł âș ⧠⚯. âș âŠ
âą let it be known that he does possess the power to alter your perception of him. saiki could always just make you fall in love with him just like thatâŠbutâŠwhatâs the fun in that? no, no, he wouldnât dream of doing that to you
â however, since saiki was born with the uncontrollable ability to read the minds of all living creatures in a multiple-mile radiusâŠhe can read your mind, he knows all of your favorite things, what you dislike, your hobbies, and your address. he didnât mean to at first, but he did find your thoughts and imagination fascinating. he even finds himself listening to you during class like youâre his favorite podcast
âą saiki is crazily protective over you.
â there was a time where you nearly got mugged! and when i say ânearlyâ, well, letâs just say you should be grateful saiki was there to protect you. canât you see that heâll always be here for you in a time of need? heâll keep you safe, but only if you see that for yourselfâŠ
âą saiki doesnât think heâs the jealous type, but he will stop any other man who has a crush on you by any means necessary by either relentlessly embarrassing them for the rest of the day or wiping you from their memory because only saiki can have you. no one else. he doesnât care how many people he has to make forget you to become your boyfriend
âą whatâs that? you wish it was a sunny day in japan instead of a rainy one? donât you worry about a thing! saiki will handle that for you!
âą stalking you is almost childâs play to saiki since he has so many powers to ensure you donât spot him â shapeshifting, teleportation, you name it! but this is a good thing because you donât have to worry about him being an aggressive type of yandere
â if he is following behind you when youâre walking home, i do think saiki would change to his female self, so you would be less scared
âą once the author made you bring coffee jelly to school and willingly give it up to saiki after seeing him light up at the sight of it, saiki knew that he just had to marry you
âą he could, quite literally, turn the world upside down for you if it meant that youâll be with him.
#saiki k#saiki no psi nan#kusuo saiki#ao3 saiki#saiki x reader#saiki k x reader#saiki k x y/n#saiki k imagines#saiki kusuo#saiki kusou no psi nan#yandere hcs#yandere boy x reader#yandere x reader#yandere imagines#yandere boy#yandere x you#yandere#anime#manga#yandere headcanons#nendou riki#nendou saiki k#teruhashi kokomi#shun kaidou#yandere saiki k#tdlosk#the disastrous life of saiki k.#the disaster of psi kusuo saiki#the disasterous life of saiki k#male yandere x reader
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A Sound Hypothesis
Part 1 of The Scientific Method series.
Summary: Inexperienced in the ways of love, you often find yourself labelled an overthinker. But then again, you are a scientist. When your incredibly beautiful travelling companion proposes a night you'll never forget, suddenly you're left wondering, are you really ready for this? Ever the scientist, you propose an experiment, and get more than you bargained for.
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4762 Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader Content: Act 1, smut with plot, inexperienced nerd reader, making out, oral sex (giving and receiving), hand job, cock worship, blowjob and handjob instruction (ie. Astarion teaches you how to pleasure him).
A/N: Can't believe this got to nearly 5k words, good lord. Actual smut comes in half way through, but it's still rather spicy before then. Also, writing handjobs is hard.
The events of the night prior felt like a dream, yet you remembered each moment vividly.
âIâm beginning to like the whole package, honestly,â he had purred, âand you clearly like me too, so I was thinkingâŠâ
You looked into his eyes as he gazed confidently, hungrily into yours. There was only him in this moment. Well, him and the quickened pulse of your heart pounding in your ears. You were certain he could hear it.
âWe could take an evening to ourselves. Get to know each other a little more intimately.â
But you were struck with a hit of nerves then. You had lived a sheltered life before your abduction. A wizard and a scholar, your pursuits had been in the sciences and that of perfecting your craft, rather than in stolen moments of lust with beautiful strangers. Not to say you hadnât experienced a few stolen kisses, however. But to give oneself entirely to another - that was a very different, much more intimidating affair. Yet there was no denying the spark that flickered between the two of you as you spent your days and evenings together, and that spark ignited a growing ache within you that lingered each night you retreated to your bedroll.
âI want to, Astarion. Gods, I really want to, but IâmâŠâ
You hesitated and tore your eyes from him; fiddled with your fingers for a moment.
âYouâve never done this before,â he finished, causing you to look up suddenly from your busying hands.
âI had my suspicions. Iâd have already bedded you twice over otherwise.â
You could only laugh, not only at the sheer audacity of his remark, but because of course he knew. Gods, he could probably smell the inexperience on you from a mile away.
âItâs your decision, of course. Should you wish to keep things light between us, weâll end our evenings together as friends. If you decide you want a little more, howeverââ
He stepped closer to you - close enough to feel his cool breath on your skin and smell the freshness of his cologne.
âIâll give you a night youâll never forget.â
He brushed a strand of hair from your face, his hand lingering delicately where your neck meets the line of your jaw. He was playing you like a fiddle, and you knew it. But gods, if his tune wasnât a sirenâs song in the night. You wanted nothing more than to dance to it.
And then he kissed you.
Gods, the way he kissed you.
There was need, yes; a hunger not unknown to you even in your limited experience. But it was a hunger wrapped in a velvet blanket of familiarity, as though he had known your lips as long as his own. He was certainly skilled, there was no denying that.
The chill of the night air felt like a splash of cold water to your senses once his lips left yours, and you found yourself mourning the loss of his touch.
âThink about it,â he had said that night, before retreating back to his tent.
â
And here you are, wrapped in your bedroll, thinking about it. Ceaselessly.
About his voice, laced with the sweetest honey, speaking promises of nights wanton and dripping with ecstasy. About his smile, teasing and rakish, and the feel of his lips against yours which you missed like home.
You think about the times you let him feed from you; the gentle way he held you, one hand cradling your head. The soft, pleasured noises that would rumble from his chest as he grazed over the soft flesh of your throat - and sunk his teeth into it. Then, greedy, he would begin to pull you close, your chest flush against his own. Every time he fed, it was as though the gates holding back the flood of every primal vampiric instinct within him were unleashed at the taste of you; the ambrosia that is your life essence which you willingly gift to him. And every time he fed, before you reached the point of no return, you would break him out of his trance - a simple series of taps on his shoulder - and he would release you from his predatorial embrace.
It was in those moments, you would see the look in his eyes: ravenous, pupils blown, boring down into you as you lay there beneath him, vulnerable. Your gazes would linger and gods, how you imagined what it would feel like to be entangled with him; for him to take his pleasure from you.
No, you tell yourself. This has been going so fast. Your time together has been so short in the grand scheme of things yet, with the threat of ceremorphosis looming over you, your time on this mortal plane may be fleeting. One might argue that now is surely the time to experience that which you have not⊠isnât it?Â
But what if this isnât what you actually want and this aching need within you is simply a manifestation of the stress your increasingly bizarre situation has brought you? It is not unknown for one to develop bouts of hypersexuality in times of stress, or so you have read in books detailing such occurrences.
Suddenly, an idea presents itself. A scientist such as yourself requires a chance to gather all available evidence before coming to a conclusion. A little experimentation, perhaps. Then, youâll know for certain if your attraction runs deeper than you give your body credit for. Your honed mind will not be governed by a set of primitive bodily urges - youâre better than that. You wonât allow it.
For now, sleep beckons. Tomorrow, you shall put your idea into practice.
âÂ
The next day passes as swiftly as you had hoped. Youâre eager to welcome the night. You and your companions had seemingly settled into a predictable routine when it came to your evening endeavours: your fellow wizard and friendly rival, Gale, would slave over the cook pot with the limited items you had procured over your journey, while the Blade of Frontiers himself regaled your group with stories of his adventures, punctuated with commentary from your remaining companions, ranging from crude to complimentary. Food would be eaten and domestic duties fulfilled, after which, everyone would begin their journeys to their bedrolls. Well, everyone bar you and Astarion. As the resident elves, you require far less rest than that of your travelling companions. It was in these moments, where the camp lay dormant and the two of you sit against a fallen log by the campfire, that you had developed something resembling a rapport with Astarion. You have become rather fond of your night time talks.
Tonight, however, you have plans beyond repartee.
You feel emboldened by your plan. Where before, you were thrown into territory unknown, unprepared and anxious, now you have the comfort of scientific method on your side. You know exactly what to say - youâve thought of every possibility after all.
Sitting side-by-side, you turn to him, determined.
âI was thinking about your little proposition last night.â
âWere you now?â Astarion replies with a smirk on his lips and a gleam in his eyes.
âDonât get ahead of yourself just yet. I always imagined that the first time I, umâŠâ
âDid the horizontal dance with an esteemed companion? Engaged in amorous congress? Fucked?â
âHad sex,â you quickly correct, halting his attempts to fluster you further. âI always imagined the first time I had sex would be under slightly less unusual circumstances. Weâve been under nothing but stress ever since we got off that damned Nautiloid. I canât tell if this desire Iâm feeling is because I truly want to spend the night with you, or because my body just wants a distraction.â
âIs that such a bad thing? Weâve worms in our brains and danger is lurking around every corner. Our time is short, darling. If I can provide our dear leader a little respite in these tumultuous times; offer up my services in her time of need, that sounds like time well spent, does it not?â
He shuffles closer to you, resting his arm behind you on the log which you both lean against.
âBesides,â he continues, his voice low and close to your ear, âyouâve been so good to me, offering up your neck for me to savour. Itâs only fitting that I offer you a little distraction in return.â
âI donât want to just⊠use you as a distraction, Astarion. Gods, I offered you my blood because I wanted to help you, not because I expected a favour.â
For a fleeting moment, his expression shifts. And just as quickly, his smirk returns, embodying a practised sultriness that has surely wrapped many a soul around his fingers.
âNo,â you continue, âif I have sex, it will be because itâs something I truly want to do; that Iâm ready for. Not just a fanciful distraction. I hope you feel the same.â
That expression again, barely noticeable. You canât quite decipher it.
âSo, darling,â he purrs, âwhat do you suggest?â
âI was wondering if I could kiss you.â
âHa! Canât get enough, eh?â
âI just think that, with a little more evidence, I might be able to see if this is something Iâm truly ready for; to discern whether this desire is real, or simply a physical response to this gods-awful situation we find ourselves in.â
He laughs, seemingly amused by your reasoning, and your heart flutters at the sound. Unexpected.
âGods, are you always such an overthinker?â
âI just think it would help me come to a decision.â
âIs that what this is then? Your little experiment?â
âIâm nothing if not a scientist,â you tease back.
âAlright, my dear. Your terms are acceptable. A kiss, for scientific reasons, of course.â
Of course, you say to yourself. That⊠is what this is, isnât it? Simple evidence gathering?
You have no time to consider this as Astarion places a finger under your chin, lifting your gaze fully to his, and suddenly, you hear your pulse pounding loudly in your ears once more. Gods, his eyes are beautiful.
An easy smile, a tilt of his head, and he presses his lips to yours, delicate and familiar. Heâs gentle, at first: his lips linger on yours a moment before kissing you again, a tender sensation. As you close your eyes and immerse yourself in the feeling, the world around you quietens. No longer do you hear the crackling of the fire as it dies, the chirps of insects, or the rustle of leaves in the breeze.Â
At this moment, all you know is him.
You succumb to the coolness of his touch, the smoothness of his skin, the freshness of his scent - sensations so overwhelming that your body responds of its own accord, letting free a soft moan into his mouth.
As though in response, Astarionâs hand lowers from your cheek and trails from your neck, your shoulder, to your waist, as though committing each dip of your body to memory, before pulling you closer to him. Your hands, in return, plant themselves against his chest. His body feels hard and angular against the softness of your own.
As his tongue seeks permission to dance with yours, there is a hunger; a fieriness that threatens to engulf you. The kiss deepens, and you realise with a start that your legs have entangled themselves with his.
Pull yourself together, your mind screams. Youâre meant to be in control of your body, not the other way around.
Or so you think, when suddenly, Astarionâs hand moves to your arse - the cheeky sod - and he skillfully, seamlessly rolls you onto his lap, taking advantage of your entangled legs, purposefully positioning you so that youâre straddling him.
Shit.
You gasp. You had forgotten to breathe. He notices and, gods, the smug look on his face. He knows heâs taken you off guard, and worse stillâŠ
He knows the effect heâs having on you.
The wall you had carefully constructed between your mind and body begins to collapse, brick by brick. As you kiss, the final fragments fall away, and everything that was once separated threatens to come together in a powerful, unified surge of desire if not for the final threads of your self-restraint.
His body desires this as much as yours, it would seem. As you straddle him, his hands caressing you as they drag up and down your back, you notice a distinct hardness digging into you, oh so close to your core. It takes more willpower than youâve ever known to not grind into that hardness, seeking the release which you ache for. You are a tautly drawn bow, the tension between your mental focus and physical yearning almost unbearable.
Noticing how stiff you become, Astarion retreats from your lips, tilting his head in playful curiosity.
âWhatâs going on in that pretty head of yours, darling?â
âI⊠IâŠâ You barely recognise your own voice as it strains to come out of you.
The bowstring snaps.
You yield.
Your mind and body merge into a mess of lust and desire, and you kiss him hard and greedily. He returns the enthusiasm in kind, releasing a groan into your mouth as he does so. You want this. You want him.
Astarion pulls himself from your lips and turns his attentions to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses where, other nights, he had sunk his fangs. As he does so, you hear his voice, husky in lust.
âYou know, if you still need a little more âexperimentation,â I have a couple more ideas for youâŠâ
His voice gives you goosebumps.
â... Iâm particularly skilled with my tongue, after all.â
You nod.
âYour tent or mine?â
â
As youâre pushed against the bedroll within the privacy of your tent, youâre overwhelmed by a desire to feel every inch of Astarionâs cool, hard body on yours. It was such a primal need, to be enveloped by him; an urge beyond anything youâve experienced, causing you to wrap your arms greedily behind his neck as you kiss each other, pulling him closer, but never close enough. His hips grind against you slowly, deliberately, granting you a brief, delicious friction which sends shivers up your body and fuels the incredible ache between your legs.
Astarion sits back up on his knees, admiring the mess of you, a smile on his pretty lips. You can only imagine the state you must be in: hair wild, eyes wide and hungry, clothes dishevelled. But your appearance is a distant notion in the back of your mind as Astarion lifts the hem of your skirt and removes your undergarments, sopping wet from your arousal.
You feel vulnerable, exposed to him like this, your desire on full display in front of the very man who you spent nights dreaming about. While his lustful gaze lights a flush of red across your cheeks, it doesnât cause you to recoil; instead, you find yourself emboldened as he lowers himself between your legs, holding your gaze with eyes hungry and hooded.
He drags his lips up your thighs, leaving kisses so teasing that brings forth the neediest of sounds from your chest. When he reaches your core, he slides a tongue up the slit of you, agonisingly slowly, painfully gently.
Head rolling back, you anticipate the feeling of his tongue within you, but thenâŠ
He diverts his attention back to your thighs.
Bastard.
âAstarion..!â
âEager little pup, arenât you? Donât you worry, darling - youâll get what you desire. Once I have my fun with you, of course.â
He shifts, propping your legs over his shoulders as he grants you an audacious glance and grazes his tongue over you once more, sending a wave of tingles radiating across your body.
You begin to pout at his teasing action, andâ
His tongue enters you.
He glides it firmly from your entrance to your clit, lapping you up in one motion, releasing the most wondrous groan, as though the nectar of your arousal is sweeter than any honey.
And so, like a man starved, he devours you, gauging quickly the sensations you prefer, alternating skillfully between firm strokes of his tongue, and the most teasing of flickers across your clit.
Your back arches, and you can do nothing but grasp at the edges of your bedroll as he works at you, leaving you in a state so blissful that you donât notice the wanton sounds being cried from your lips.
âEasy, love,â he purrs, the loss of his tongue against you causing you to whimper. âAs much as I enjoy hearing those delectable sounds of yours, letâs not wake the others, hm?â
You can only cover your mouth with your hands in a feeble attempt to hush yourself as he continues his ministrations. As your eyes meet and the pleasant ache in your core begins to swell into an all-encompassing warmth across your body, you wonder if this is what it feels to be revered as a deity would, your every sensation treated with the kind of awe that only a god might know.
It is when he enters you with his fingers - first one, then two, thrusting in rhythm with his tongue - that the warmth, now an inferno, reaches its peak. It surges through you like a divine crescendo, each wave of your climax a new blessing that floods your senses with a celestial rapture, singing his name like the sweetest hymn.
He caresses your thighs as he brings you down slowly from your high, grounding you.
As you return once again to this mortal plane, the lingering euphoria elicits a fit of giggles from you.
âWell,â Astarion smiles in return, removing himself from the home he has made between your legs, âyou certainly seemed to enjoy yourself.â
âI did. I really did. Thank you.â
As you both sit yourselves upright once more, he presses another kiss to your lips. You taste yourself on him.
âI hope our little experiment was very informative for you,â he says with a wink. His words are teasing, but spoken with a gentleness that surprises you.
The truth is, you do have one more idea.
âCan I, um⊠Can I do the same for you?â
âWhat?â He says a little too quickly. Noticing this, he brushes his hair back with his hand to a more presentable condition, regains his composure, and continues. âI mean, you donât have to. To see you squirm under my touch, thatâs pleasure enough for me.â
âI want to make you feel good too.â
âYou want to?â
That same indecipherable expression. A man with as many notches on his bedpost as he claims must have had some less than favourable conquests every now and then⊠Perhaps heâs had some bad experiences when receiving too? You suddenly find yourself cursing your lack of experience in these matters. Youâre not exactly brimming with social expertise either.
âI probably wonât be the best - not as good as you - but I want to try. I always find that the best way to develop oneâs skills is to practise under the guidance of a trusted expert. So⊠could you teach me how to make you feel good?â
Your gazes linger for a moment as he seems to assess your resolve.
Seemingly satisfied, he smirks, a well-practised aura of sultriness fitting back into place once more. All traces of that mysterious expression dissipate before your eyes.
âWell, darling, if youâre so eager to please me, who am I to stop you?â
You slide up to sit next to him as he begins to unlace his trousers, and suddenly you find yourself unsure of where to look. Youâve a scholarâs knowledge of the physical form; menâs anatomy is no stranger to you from an analytical perspective. And yes, youâve fantasised about Astarionâs⊠parts before, as much as you have tried to deceive yourself into believing it was nothing more than a passing, intrusive thought. Yet, now that youâre here, about to perform the most intimate of acts to your beautiful travelling companion for the first time, you become bashful. You canât quite believe the situation youâve gotten yourself into tonight.
Yet, as he lowers his trousers and underwear to his thighs, revealing himself to you, all thoughts of bashfulness, of anxiety, cease to be for a moment.
âHells, Astarion.â You look upon his hardened member with disbelief, measuring its girth against your arm. âHow is that going to fit inside me, exactly?â
A slip of the tongue.
He grins, very pleased with himself. âGetting ahead of ourselves, are we?â
⊠And there returns that familiar flush of heat to your cheeks. Shit.
His chuckling lets you know that he has, in fact, noticed your embarrassment.
Seeking to swiftly change the subject to the much more pressing matter at hand, you ask, âcan I touch you?â
In wordless agreement, Astarion guides your hand to his cock, which glistens slightly from the beads of precum elicited from the head. As you hold it, his hand remains over yours, coaxing you to move up and down the shaft.
His cock isnât warm as you would imagine a regular manâs to be, owing to his vampiric nature, but you note its hardness; the way it pulses beneath your touch; the way his foreskin glides over the head so seamlessly. You squeeze him, fascinated.
âGently, love. Like this.â He demonstrates by applying a light pressure to your hand and twisting ever so slightly as you both reach the tip, then loosening his grip as he slides you back down his length. You repeat the motion, tentatively. Gods, you hope you're doing this right. He made you feel incredible. You want him to feel incredible too. But oh, what if you hurt him, what if youâ
âA-ahâŠâ
The softest sigh of pleasure from your companion interrupts your thoughts. It sends wonderful shivers throughout your body. You find yourself eager to coax more of those little sounds from him.
A newfound confidence flares within you, and you gradually increase your pace, up and down and up and down the shaft, squeezing and twisting lightly as your beautiful instructor taught. In a sudden bout of curiosity, you glide your thumb over the head on your way back down andâ
âAh!â
There it is again. That most delicious sound.
âExactly like that, darling. Exactly like that.â
He removes his hand from yours as you continue to pump him - you are a fast learner, it would seem - and moves it to reach your cheek, turning you to face him. As he leans his forehead against yours, you notice his breathing has become heavier, just ever so slightly. Instinctively, your breathing begins to match his, and you feel an intensity in the air that gives you goosebumps. Then he kisses you, and it is hungry. Ravenous. Greedy. His hand moves from your cheek to the back of your head, gripping your hair lightly, pressing your lips firmly against his.
As you continue to pleasure him, you find yourself becoming greedy too.
You want to taste him.
Between gasps for air, you ask him, âcan I use my mouth on you? The way you did for me?â
âMmhm,â he says into your kiss. It feels almost a shame to remove yourself from his lips, but you have greater plans yet.Â
You both reposition yourselves. He turns to lie himself back on the bedroll, and you crawl down his body to position yourself between his legs. So close to his cock, you find yourself admiring it, taking in every detail: the thick vein on the underside of the shaft, the way the head throbs a colour darker than the rest, eager for release.
You're overwhelmed with a primal desire - a need - to please, to give.
To worship.
âGods, it's beautiful,â you think aloud.
âI know,â he remarks confidently in return. You roll your eyes at his arrogance, but in this moment, in your eyes, even you can't deny that his cock is perfection. Your mouth waters at what is to come.
You hold his member delicately, like a jewel most precious, planting kisses up his length. A soft sound escapes from Astarionâs lips and suddenly you are emboldened, determined to gift him with bliss as he had gifted you. To do so, however, you would need a little instruction.
âTell me how to please you,â you plead, and you feel him twitch at your words.
âYou are eager,â he purrs, propping himself up with his hands to gaze down at you. You notice a shiver and a sigh, ever so slight, when you trail a line of wetness from base to tip with your tongue.
âIn that case,â he continues, brushing a strand of hair from your face, granting him a better view of you, âlick your lips and hold it at the base. Then I want you to get to know it a little, so to speak. Use your mouth around the head and start slowly - there's no point in rushing in, eh?â
You obey, shaking off the lingering feelings of bashfulness at the directness of his words, and wrap your lips around him. Out of curiosity, you swirl a flattened tongue around the head and gods, his skin is so smooth, still slightly salty from precum. His cock twitches and you hear him gasp above you - heâs especially sensitive there, it would seem.Â
Where are his other sensitive spots, you wonder.
Time to experiment. You are nothing if not a scientist.
You bob your head and relax your jaw to the best of your abilities, taking in just a little bit more of him each time your mouth glides up and down, keeping your tongue flat against him to flick against the sensitive tip each time you glide back up the length. The sounds he makes - oh, those sounds. His moans are like velvet, a soft, deep timbre that caresses your senses and makes your loins ache once more. Every murmur seeps into your being, igniting your senses and fuelling your need to explore every inch of him. You continue your journey down and down his length, savouring the taste and the texture andâ
You gag as his cock touches your throat.
Astarion recomposes himself. âEasy, darling. Use your hand where your mouth canât reach.â
âLike this?â Your hand pumps the shaft in rhythm with the motions of your mouth and tongue, and Astarionâs head rolls back for a moment.
âLike that,â he exhales heavily, âand suck gently.â
Thereâs a certain sense of empowerment, unravelling him like this. You relish in every moan that escapes his lips, every twitch and pulse of his cock as you attend to him. The lewd, wet sounds emitted as your hollowed cheeks suck his length. His hand finds its way to your hair, fingers weaving through the strands with a gentle authority, pushing you hard enough to guide you to an ever-quickening rhythm, but gentle enough not to force himself down your throat.
âUse your other hand,â he says between breaths, âhold the balls softly.â
You do as he says, giving them the gentlest of squeezes as you attend to him, and his breaths grow deeper, uneven. You sense the rising tension in him, a tide gathering strength beneath the surface.
He gives one final instruction.
âLook at me.â
Your eyes meet with a stormy intensity and, as you pump up and down with your lips and fingers at a dizzying pace, the intensity seems to surge through him with the force of an ocean swell, powerful and all-encompassing.
With a tremor and a groan so delicious that you find yourself moaning instinctively in response, his cum fills your mouth. Your eyes water, taken by surprise by the force of his release, but you do your best to swallow each wave, releasing him with a wet pop as his climax subsides.
Some moments pass and, in the afterglow, the tent is filled with a comfortable, profound stillness, and only the sounds of heavy breathing - yours and his - as you both return to your senses.
âDid you just..?â He asks, breaking the silence.
âI did,â you reply with a grin, showing him your tongue to reveal that not a drop went to waste.
He laughs warmly, and your heart flutters.
âYouâre full of surprises, arenât you?â He kisses you deeply as he sits up, seemingly undeterred by the taste of himself.
âI think Iâve gathered enough evidence to consider your proposition,â you say teasingly.
âTomorrow night then, darling?â
Bastard.
But yes, you think to yourself. Tomorrow night. Youâre ready.
Part 2, An Empirical Study, can be found here!
Masterlist can be found here.
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