#it can’t all be just a huge coincidence | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

junkissed · 5 months ago

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ocean view

member — junhui x f reader genre — romance, smut, strangers to lovers, soulmate au word count — 8.8k synopsis — an all expenses paid trip to greece for your friend's wedding seems too good to be true, but it gets even better when you meet a handsome stranger on the beach. with the help of a mysterious old lady, her magic deck of tarot cards, and one too many coincidences, you're starting to believe things really do happen for a reason. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, fingering, marking, an oddly romantic one night stand, mentions of past hookups, reader wears dresses, way too much yearning, happy ending ! notes — my part for the @svthub world tour collab; check out the masterlist here! thanks to @multi-kpop-fanfics for answering all my questions and the biggest thanks ever to @onlymingyus for proofreading & helping me brainstorm throughout !! inspired mostly by the spell mv but also a little bit from nana tour and in the soop bc of the vacation vibes. disclaimer i know nothing about tarot but i did a ton of research so i hope that part makes sense anyway :) this fic was a huge challenge to write so please please reblog if you enjoyed reading, the feedback is super appreciated and it helps me keep writing!! read bonus material here!

they say time flies when you’re having fun.

it felt like just days ago when your best friend had announced she was flying everyone to athens for her destination wedding. between helping prepare for the wedding and getting yourself packed for the trip of a lifetime, a weekend on the beach sounded like exactly what you needed to unwind.

but now that you’re here, you’ve quickly realized that your dreams of lazy spa days, massages, and lounging on chairs in the sand with cocktails aren’t on your friend’s itinerary.

what is on her itinerary, however? clubs. lots of clubs, and bars, and raves.

the night before the wedding, you’d showed up at the place you had all planned to meet at for her bachelorette party, a popular bar right on the beach in the center of everything. you hadn’t been sure what to expect, so you’d worn your swimsuit underneath your sundress just in case. between wedding plans and jet lag, you hadn’t yet had the chance to explore the beaches, and you weren’t about to let your favorite white strappy one-piece go to waste without wearing it the whole trip; especially not when you’re surrounded by gorgeous clear waters you don’t get to see while you’re at home.

you tug at your dress a little awkwardly, a simple off-white piece with buttons all down the front. cute and casual, the perfect thing for an evening on the beach. except an evening on the beach is not what you’re getting.

“next round is on me!”

all the girls let out a cheer, clapping and whooping as they raise their glasses. you’re still not even halfway through your first drink; the night is young, but your friends are more enthusiastic partygoers than you are.

you lean away to check the time on your phone, trying not to feel defeated when you see how early it still is. you’ve been trying to hype yourself up for tonight all weekend, but it doesn’t help that your friends are bigger partiers than you. that isn’t to say that you dislike parties, or that you never go out; but parties like this, huge events with hundreds of people packed into a small space with loud music and flashing lights, aren’t really your ideal way to spend a saturday night. even for such a special, rare occasion like a bachelorette party in another country, you can’t bring yourself to get lost in the scene. you should’ve known how this would go, and yet here you are, standing at a cocktail table by yourself surrounded by drunk women.

you turn back around and suddenly the bar is a sea of unfamiliar faces, everyone around you lost in their own worlds jumping and dancing to the music that booms from the speakers. you stand up on your tiptoes to see above the crowd, trying to push your way through in search of someone you recognize, but it seems like they’ve all vanished.

the pounding of the music is starting to give you a headache, so you down the last of your drink and head away from the bar, pushing past people until the crowd eventually starts to thin and you break out into the open air.

it’s still light outside, but the contrast from the darkened bar makes it feel like stepping into another world. the noise gets quieter the farther away you move, and you find your feet carrying themselves down the beach. you walk backwards, turning to look over your shoulder one more time to see if you can spot your friends, but all you see is a crowd full of strangers.

it’s easier to breathe out here, feeling the freshness of the ocean breeze and the salty air in your lungs as you get further and further from the people and the businesses. you turn around again and almost run straight into a man walking from the opposite direction, and you stumble into his arms before you realize what’s happening. you let out a little squeak in surprise and jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet but his hand instinctively shoots around your waist to help keep you upright.

your cheeks burn with embarrassment, an apology already ready on your lips, but he beats you to it. “sorry,” he says with a shy laugh, slowly letting go of you and offering his hand for balance as you slip your sandal back on that had come off. he steps back and gives you a polite smile, trying to move out of your way. “you look like you’ve got somewhere to be.”

“the opposite, actually. escaping my friend's bachelorette party," you explain.

"we're in the same boat, then," he chuckles, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "trying to ditch the bachelor party. it’s a popular place for weddings, huh?”

“seems like it.” you hum, turning to look out over the water. the setting sun glints off the surface, a clear and bright sparkling blue, and you lift your hand to keep the glare out of your eyes. “i just didn’t think it’d be so…”

“…hectic?” he asks, and you laugh a little.

"yeah, you could say that.” a warm breeze ruffles through your sundress, and you cross your arms over your chest. “i guess all weddings are like that, though.”

he nods, following your gaze off into the horizon. you go quiet, listening to the music still loud in the distance and the sound of seagulls cawing above your heads. "i was hoping to get a chance to explore more of the beaches while i'm here. i don’t get to see it often."

"wanna go for a walk?” you ask suddenly, uncrossing your arms. maybe it’s the fresh air of a new place, maybe it’s the comfort of finding another person wanting to get away from it all, but some part of you wants to stay here and find out. you’d wanted to see more of the landscape anyway, and now seems like as good a time as any, especially now that you’ve got company.

he looks over at you, judging your expression before his face softens. “that sounds perfect.”

it’s still early enough that the beach is still mostly full of tourists, adults lounging on towels while reading books and kids splashing water at each other and playing in the sand. you walk further down the beach, passing in front of a grey haired old woman sitting cross-legged on a towel, shuffling a deck of cards in her wrinkled hands.

"always lovely to see couples enjoying the islands,” she calls out to you. there’s an almost rhythmic lilt to her voice, and it’s so sudden that it makes both of you pause and turn around, having paid her no mind as you walked past before. she gestures down at the deck and you finally notice that she’s holding a set of tarot cards, a deep matte black that seems to glitter and sparkle even while shadowed. “would you like a reading?”

your cheeks start to warm, and you push down the butterflies that flutter to life when she assumes you’re together. "oh, no, we're not—”

"sure," jun says over you, and you sneak a glance up at him when you think he's not looking. "how much?"

she clucks her teeth and shakes her head, staring directly at you although she’s answering his question. "no, no, no, my dear. just offering a bit of friendly advice. won’t cost you a thing."

jun nods, but she seems like she’s waiting for your answer so you quickly nod, too. “okay. what… do we have to do?”

she places her palms over the deck and closes her eyes, falling silent. you stand in front of her, feeling a little awkward to be hovering over her like this, but she it’s like she doesn’t even notice. you share a look with jun, but after a beat he grabs your hand and grins as if to say, just go along with it.

her eyes suddenly fly open and she seems pleased with whatever she was doing. “i knew i could feel it,” she says cryptically as she begins shuffling the cards. “but let’s just see what fate has to say about it.”

she stops and pulls the top two cards from the deck, placing them face down on the towel as she motions at them with her hand. at her signal, jun bends forward and turns over one of the cards, reading it aloud. “ace of cups.”

“ace of cups,” she repeats. “an invitation. the open, uninhibited flow of emotions, creativity, and love; the awakening of your spirit. this is a new beginning for you, the start of a new season. trust yourself and your feelings, and embrace the opportunity to grow with your emotions.”

jun nods seriously like he’s taking in her words, but you can see the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips that he’s trying to suppress.

she looks at you expectantly, and you hesitate before realizing she’s waiting for you to flip over the second card. you cheeks heat as you read it, but you try not to let it show. “the… lovers?”

she smiles, and although her face looks kind you have a sense that there’s something she’s not telling. “the lovers,” she says, almost solemnly. “many people think this card is strictly about romance. and in some ways it is, but what it really represents is a choice. two diverging paths, two responsibilities. will you choose with your head, or with your heart?”

she stares at you for another moment, then looks back at jun. you both stay quiet and still, subconsciously hanging on her every word as she pauses, clearly having more to say. “having these two cards come up together… now, that’s fascinating for you two, isn’t it?”

you find yourself nodding silently, although you have no idea why. you feel jun’s hand in yours, warm and soft and grounding, and the smallest shiver runs down your spine.

“the lovers and the ace of cups are the potential for new beginnings and the fulfillment that comes with following your heart,” she says, her eyes locked with yours. “this is a very powerful and meaningful connection, but only if you make the choice that is most heartfelt. you must be willing to be your most authentic self and hold nothing back. keep your eyes open, and you will be rewarded with profound joy and happiness.”

immediately you turn to look at jun to see his reaction. he looks just as confused—but is that a hint of excitement in his eyes?—as you do. the woman’s words are… cryptic, to say the least, but it stirs up a feeling of excitement in the back of your mind that you’re trying to ignore. it probably doesn’t mean what you think it does, right?

"hey, wait, so what does—”

you turn back to look at the woman for another explanation, but there's no one there. the beach is empty except for you and jun and the slowly setting sun, a few boats tied up at the dock. you’ve walked so far down the beach that even the distant music has faded into obscurity and you’re left standing alone together, surrounded by nothing but the sounds of the waves. even the wind has died down, and it feels eerily quiet but in an almost comforting sort of way, to be alone together in a place like this.

"you believe in that kind of stuff?" you ask curiously as jun starts to walk away.

"mm… not really. but she seemed like a lonely old lady. i thought it'd make her day." he looks down at your entwined hands and squeezes lightly, almost teasing as you look up and see the grin on his face. "why, do you?"

you can't help the butterflies that instantly flutter to life in your stomach when you feel his warm hand in yours, but you shrug. "why not?"

jun doesn't reply, just nodding thoughtfully as you continue to walk hand in hand.

with the way the atmosphere has suddenly changed, it feels like time has stopped as you meander your way along the edge of the water. you chat off and on with jun, but there’s a hefty amount of silence that neither one of you feels obligated to fill. talking to jun feels like talking to an old friend, and maybe it’s the beautiful scenery or maybe it’s the way both of you had found yourselves here looking for company.

after a while you come to a stop just below the rocks where you’d started. your footprints from where you’d run into each other are still visible, little indents in the damp sand, and it reminds you of what you were running away from in the first place. maybe you don’t want to run anymore.

"well…” jun says, inhaling slowly. "we should get you back to your friends. i'm sure they're looking for you."

"would it be so bad if i said i didn't want to find them?"

he pauses to gauge your reaction, and you don’t miss the flicker in his eyes as he looks at you. after a moment nods and points up the shallow cliffs, towards a little stone staircase worn down from years of being travelled on. "my hotel is just up there. if… if you wanted to stay a little longer? with me?"

you pull your lip between your teeth, looking up at him and the way the fading sunlight shines through his soft brown waves, and it only takes a second to make your decision. “i’d really like that.”

it turns out that missing out on your friend’s party for a few more hours is an easy price to pay for more time with jun.

the door of his hotel room barely has time to shut before your hands are on each other. you tug him closer by shirt with an eagerness you rarely allow yourself and he immediately reciprocates, pulling you by the waist until you’re pressed chest to chest.

his hand skims over your collarbone towards your neck, and you shiver at the warmth of his fingers caressing the side of your jaw. he angles your chin upwards and leans in as you meet him halfway and your lips finally touch, a low sound escaping from your throat as his nose brushes your cheek.

he makes a soft noise as he inhales, deepening the kiss until you feel your knees go weak. his hand cups your jaw harder, trying to draw you further into him, unwilling to break apart. he kisses you so softly yet you can still feel the intensity behind every movement of his lips, exploring your mouth with a gentleness that feels more natural than anyone you’ve ever kissed before.

jun curls his arm around you tighter, and you’re sure he can hear how fast your heart is beating as he kisses you again and again until you’re breathless. you slide your hands away from his chest and start to undo the buttons at the front of your dress, but he stops you. you look up and meet his gaze as his hand on your cheek moves to wrap around your waist, carefully walking you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back onto it.

he lets out a quiet groan as you pull him down with you, landing on top of you and catching himself on his forearms beside your head. his face is inches away from yours, staring into your eyes for a beat before he presses down to capture your lips again.

his kisses feel like magic, and you almost forget exactly what you’re here to do. you’d be content to spend hours with his lips on yours and nothing else, but you’re quickly pulled away from it when he sits back and starts to slide his hands down your body, his nimble fingers skillfully undoing the buttons of your dress one by one.

he pulls the fabric away and lets it fall to the floor before leaning to kiss you again, and a grateful sigh slips from your lips at his touch. your fingers tug at his shirt and he breaks away once more to quickly pull it off over his head, tossing it behind him without a second thought.

your hands slide earnestly across his body, your fingertips trailing down his torso and the deep lines of his abs. his fingers brush over your swimsuit in tandem, tracing the cutouts of the fabric where your skin is visible and making you prickle with goosebumps at his touch.

he seems equally as content to just continue doing this, but eventually his hands make their way upwards and gently slip the straps off your shoulders. he doesn't move any further than that, waiting for you to move instead, his fingers resting at the base of your neck just beneath your chin.

you follow his actions and shimmy the suit down, letting it bunch up at your hips. only then does he finally break apart from you, moving his mouth down to your exposed breast and letting his tongue glide over your peaked nipple. your skin tastes like salt and sweat, like sunny days and warm breezy nights, and he can't get enough of you.

the first moan you let out is like music to his ears, and immediately he craves more of them. he wraps his mouth around your other nipple while keeping his hands attached to your body like magnets, desperate to be the one to draw more of those pretty noises from your lips.

you lift your hips just a little and he quickly gets the hint, wordlessly pushing his fingers between your skin and the fabric of your swimsuit before tugging it all the way off. he pulls it down your legs and you help him kick it away, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

your hands slide across his shoulders and up the back of his neck, tangling in his hair with another moan that sends a shiver down his spine. you can’t help but roll your hips upwards against his body, squirming for more friction as your nails scratch at his scalp.

his face stays buried in your chest for a long time, moving between your breasts and planting wet kisses all along your skin. your head is spinning at the sight of this gorgeous man working his magic on your body, his hands wandering up and down with a tender purpose. you don't even know his name but you already know you're gonna be thinking about this night for months, probably even years. you're shocked at how good he is at this; there's a melancholy feeling looming in the back of your mind, knowing that this is probably the first and only night you’ll get to spend with him, but you don't have time to focus on that when you have the tingly feeling in your stomach to focus on instead.

despite not saying anything aloud you can tell exactly what he wants from you, and something about how easy this is sends a feeling of relief through you. all of the mistakes of your past hookups feel like a distant memory. there’s none of the empty conversations meant to do nothing more than fill the silence and the awkward, tentative movements that you’ve become accustomed to from strangers who aren’t familiar with your body.

but something about the way jun touches you does feel familiar, like you’ve been waiting all your life for it, for him. his silence, something that most of your partners in the past had fought so hard to avoid, now only leaves more room for you to enjoy the sounds that often go overlooked: the wet hum as his lips connect with your skin, the distant crash of waves outside the window, the quiet whir of the ceiling fan.

jun leans down and kisses you again, shifting on top of you as his hand wanders down your hips. you pull him closer and let your hand travel a similar path, and you bite your lip in excitement when your fingers skim over the bulge straining against his shorts.

he lets out a strangled noise almost like a whimper at the contact but the sound only encourages you to add more pressure, soaking in his reactions. he whines again, pushing his hips into your hand and exhaling a shaky breath as you continue to palm him, feeling the hard outline of his cock as he struggles to keep his composure.

his knee is against your thigh and he repositions himself to press it higher between your legs, returning the favor and giving you something to grind on. instinctively your legs widen a little to give him easier access, and he rewards you with another hot, messy kiss.

you groan at the feeling, pushing your hips down towards him and rubbing yourself on him. it’s a little rough at first, but you’re already so wet that it doesn’t take long before his knee is coated in your arousal and you slide along him easily.

after a minute he pulls back just an inch, giving you room to breathe, but one hand is still on your hip and the other curled behind you to support your neck. “good?” he asks breathlessly, and even though it’s clear as day that you’re enjoying this as much as he is, you still nod and give him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a smile of his own. “just let me know,” he says, and the sultry yet sweet tone of his voice makes your heart skip a beat.

at your approval his hand begins to wander again, trailing over the top of your thigh. his finger slowly make their way down and you shiver, your hand stilled against his abdomen as you anticipate his next move.

you take this moment to get a good look at him; you’d been too shy to stare earlier on the beach, unsure how things were going to go. but now that he’s on top of you, shirtless and obviously just as eager as you are, you let your gaze roam unabashedly across his body. your eyes glide over his torso, the hollow slope of his collarbones and his hardened nipples, the deep-set grooves of his abs and the faint lines of his ribs beneath his skin. you want to reach out to touch him and run your hands over every inch of him, but you’re trying to be patient. and although you know your time here is limited, it seems like jun is only just getting started.

his fingers finally make it to your inner thighs, tracing the area around your pussy, but it’s still not close enough for your liking. you wiggle a little to try and encourage him, whining softly and letting out a little plea. his lips quirk up and he nods, his grip on the back of your neck tensing and tangling in your hair.

his fingers finally brush against your entrance and you gasp, writhing at how gentle his touch is. he dips his middle finger into your heat before pulling it back out, trailing upwards to your clit to circle it for a moment before heading back down and repeating the process. it’s barely enough, yet it leaves you breathless almost instantly.

he’s staring down between your legs with an intense focus, spreading your arousal around before sinking back into you for more. and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pushes his finger in deeper, holding it still for a second even though you’ve already adjusted to it. he waits until you start moving, arching your back and trying to get him to go further, before he adds his ring finger and begins slowly thrusting both fingers in and out together.

you whimper and curse under your breath, trying to roll your hips to match his rhythm. he starts to curl his knuckles and you swear you see stars, despite the fact that he’s barely moving at all.

after a moment when you’ve regained the ability to breathe normally again you start to move your hand back against his bulge, shaky fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts. you wrap your hand around him and your eyes widen at the thickness, the heavy weight of him in your hand and how you’re sure he must be aching by now. you feel the way his cock jerks when you squeeze ever so slightly, his fingers inside you freezing for a split second as his brain tries to process before he plunges them in even deeper, curling into you with even more fervor than before.

you hold him tighter and run your thumb over his tip, swollen and leaking with precum. he gets a little noisier with every move you make, unable to contain the pleasure he gets even from this. even the smallest touches from each other have both of you on edge in a way you’ve never felt before, drawn to each other like no one you’ve ever had before.

his clothes in the way are starting to frustrate you, so after another second you release his cock and move your hand up to the waistband of his shorts instead, trying to tug them down but it’s difficult from the position you’re both laying in.

“please,” you pant out desperately after having little success, and he obliges, pushing his shorts away as fast as possible before resuming his motions. he’s still almost completely ignoring himself as he continues to focus on you and only you, and his complete devotion gives you another boost of confidence.

now freed, his hard cock slaps against your thigh and you moan happily at finally being able to see all of him. it looks even better than it felt, thick veins bulging out across his length and his tip flushed a deep red. you wrap your hand around him once more, flicking your wrist as you start to jerk up and down.

his fingers curl upwards to massage the spot that makes your eyes roll back, and if you had any functioning thoughts left you would’ve marvelled at the fact that he was able to find it so easily, but you’re too busy arching your back against his pillow to think about that.

he can feel you starting to clench harder around him, making his fingers stutter inside you, so he pushes his other hand down on your hip to stop you from moving so much. he pulls his fingers out and your eyes dart back up to his face for an explanation, unable to stop the whimper that escapes from you at the loss, but the look in his eyes instantly puts you at ease. you can already tell he knows what he’s doing, and somehow he seems to know exactly what you need, so for once you don’t mind sitting back and letting someone else call the shots.

“can i fuck you now?” he murmurs, and it takes you a second to even hear what he said because you’re shocked at how low and rough his tone is since the last time you heard him speak. he wipes his fingers against the inside of your thigh as he waits for your reply, and you shiver at the cool wetness on your skin.

the best you can manage is a stuttered “yes”, and without a word of acknowledgement he pulls you off the bed, guiding you off your back and onto your hands and knees.

you let out a squeak at the sudden change but you let it happen, and a second later you hear his voice beside you, his breath warm against your ear. “still okay?” he asks, and despite the gruffness in his voice you can still hear the soft edge to his words.

“yeah,” you repeat, suddenly losing the ability to say anything else to express your pleasure, but somehow you know he understands. your stomach flutters at the low tone of his voice, steady and calm but so full of warmth and lust.

you feel the heat from his face move away from your skin, and you know he’s sitting up on his knees behind you. his hands slide down your sides, reaching under you to cup your boobs with both hands as he groans at the feeling. you let out a matching whine, pushing your hips back against him to feel his hard length against the soft flesh of your ass.

his hands still holding your breasts, he leans down over you to keep you flush to his body, your back pressed against his chest. he presses a kiss in between your shoulder blades, letting his tongue trace lightly over the ridges of your spine.

you grind backwards against him harder, your body on fire from his kisses as he starts to suck gently at the back of your shoulder. you’re not sure if it’s hard enough to leave marks, but you kind of hope they do, because then you’d be sure this encounter wasn’t a dream. what other explanation is there for the fact that you’ve not only met the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, but that you’re currently on your hands and knees in his bed as he runs his lips over every single inch of you, waiting for him to fuck you? it’s too good to be true.

but it is true, and you know it when he pulls away to brush your hair to the side and expose more of your back for him. his fingers are still so gentle against your skin, his touch heavy but soft, and it makes you even more desperate for him.

after a while he lets go of you and leans back, taking his cock in his hand and gently tapping it against your ass. you groan and fall forward, pressing your face into the pillows and arching your hips up into the air. his hands slide down your sides, gripping your waist with a low groan as he leans forward to kiss the side of your neck again.

he finally pushes all the way into you, and it feels so good it takes your breath away for a second. you can feel your walls throbbing around him, struggling to adjust to the feeling of being so full in the best way, a way you haven’t felt this strongly in so long. it’s a feeling like no other, and it makes you wonder why you ever settled for anything else before this.

his hands are all over you like he can’t decide what to do first, but after a while they settle at your hips and give them an encouraging squeeze, waiting patiently for you to set the pace. finally you bring yourself to move, tipping forward to let him slide out of you just a bit before you lean back into him.

he adapts quickly to your rhythm, thrusting in and out and matching your pace, using his grip on your waist for leverage to push himself deep inside with every stroke.

“fuck,” he moans under his breath, finally breaking the silence, and with just that one sound you feel yourself starting to let go.

the words tumble out of your mouth and you ball your fists into his sheets, clinging to the bed to keep you grounded while your head is spinning. “please, please, yes—”

everything finally hits you all at once, like a tidal wave pouring over you as you fall forward and bury your face into the pillow with a broken whimper.

“don’t stop, please,” you whine breathlessly. your words are muffled by the pillow, but you can tell he’s heard them because his grip on your hips tightens even more, slamming into you with just as much force as before and carrying you through your orgasm.

jun has to bite his lip not to sail right over the edge with you, focusing all his energy on holding himself back until he feels your body go limp all at once, the waves finally subsiding and you let out a deep, pleasured exhale. he’s so close he can practically taste it, his skin flushed and damp with sweat and his abs burning with exertion. only once he’s absolutely sure that you’ve finished cumming does he let himself break, pulling out as fast as he can and wrapping his fist around his length with all the energy he has left.

he moans weakly at the loss of your tight, warm walls hugging him so perfectly, but the view as he jerks himself over you all but makes up for it. the sight of your ass pressed flush against his thighs, your lower back arched and on display like a gorgeous blank canvas, and it gives him such a rush until he can’t hold on anymore.

the warm, sticky liquid hits your back and you whimper into the pillow, instinctively lifting your hips even more towards him. his cum spurts out in thick ropes, painting your skin and pooling in the little divot at the base of your spine, running down your ass until it feels like you’re soaked in it.

he finally pulls back and lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in, groaning as he sees you sitting still on the bed with your hips in the air. you feel the bed shift with his weight as he gets up, but you don’t pay any attention to it as you focus on trying to steady your breathing instead. something in your gut tells you to stay put, and sure enough, a minute later you hear the sink running and then feel the cool fabric of a damp washcloth brushing over your back.

he lays his hand on your ass and gently gives it a little squeeze to signal that he’s finished, and you finally fall over onto your side. you’re coasting on cloud nine, and everything feels both dulled and hypersensitive at the same time. the whir of the overhead fan is a little more prominent now, and the quiet drone echoes around in your brain.

“do you need water? or do you want a snack, or something?” jun asks, and while his voice still has a touch of shakiness as he’s recovering himself, you can tell his tone is back to the gentle and polite sound you’ve become used to hearing from him.

you shake your head, and he hums softly in acknowledgement as he points to the nightstand on the side of the bed closest to you. “there’s an extra water bottle there, if you need it. i haven’t opened it.”

you nod against the sheets, suddenly too tired to even think about forming words. jun climbs back onto the bed next to you, stretching out his long limbs and leaning against the headboard with a satisfied sigh.

you surprise yourself when your body automatically reaches out for him, curling into his body and laying your hand across his forearm like a weight keeping him close. but what surprises you even more is when he mirrors the action, scooting closer to you and letting your head rest against his stomach. your first thought is that he makes a very comfortable pillow, and you let your eyes fall shut for a moment as your breathing returns to normal, wanting to savor this moment as you collect yourself and prepare to leave.

you open your eyes what feels like minutes later, but when you reach over to check your phone you realize you’ve been asleep for more than an hour. you inhale slowly and swallow, blinking a few times as the sore feeling in your hips reminds you of where you are.

instinctively, you start to panic a little. your friends are probably looking for you. you disappeared without telling anyone, and now you have to get back to your hotel and make sure you have enough time to sleep properly and get ready for the wedding in the morning. never mind that it was probably the best night you’ve ever spent with another person, and never mind that your friends are probably still out partying and haven’t even noticed you missing yet.

you slide off of the bed as quietly as you can, stumbling a little when your feet hit the floor. you crouch down to pick up your swimsuit off the floor and put it on, hopping on one foot as you slip each leg through the holes. it's darker outside now, but the street lamps and the moonlight shining through the sliding glass door that leads to the balcony of his hotel room are bright enough that it still feels like day. you're so focused on getting dressed and mentally running over your to-do list that you completely forget there's another person in the room until you hear his voice cutting through the silence.

“you don’t have to do that, y’know.”

you freeze and look up, your half-buttoned dress hanging loosely from your shoulders, your cheeks burning at the realization you’ve been caught.

jun swings his legs off the bed, crossing the room in a couple of strides before he’s standing in front of you. he’s wearing nothing except for the boxer shorts he threw on right before you fell asleep, and your cheeks flush even harder at the sight, despite the fact that you’ve already seen much more of him than this.

it takes every ounce of restraint you have to keep your eyes from straying, locked on his face before your gaze falls quickly to the floor where your sandals are left in a heap.

you didn’t mean to sneak off. but what else were you supposed to do? you hadn’t meant to fall asleep and stay as long as you did, either, and now you were stuck with the awkward conversation that always comes afterwards. the inevitable hurried goodbyes and uncomfortable tension as you try to put yourself back together and leave as fast as possible.

jun takes a small step closer to you, and despite all the confidence you know he has, it feels almost… tentative. as if you’re meeting for the first time and he isn’t sure whether or not he’s allowed to touch you yet.

there's a lingering feeling that you can't quite put your finger on yet. it's conflicting, because you know you can't stay but everything in you is screaming not to leave. maybe there's something you can do, anything you can do. is it all worth it? to turn your life around in a complete 180 for someone you barely even know— and yet, the last few hours that you’ve spent with him have been incomparably the best of your life.

after a moment he reaches out and starts to finish buttoning your dress for you, his fingers working them back through the loops with just as much care as he did when he was taking them off earlier.

“sorry,” you manage quietly, though you’re not even really sure what you’re apologizing for. a lot of things: sorry for running away, sorry for having feelings you probably shouldn’t be feeling, sorry for knowing this won’t work out despite the way you really, really wish it could.

but he just shakes his head as he finishes buttoning the last button. “i took it off. i can help you put it back on, too.” you can tell he knows what you had actually meant, but he’s ignoring it either for your sake or his. something about his words feels so easy, like all the problems in your head don’t mean anything anymore. here you are, an anxious and awkward and confused mess, and there he is, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress like it’s something he’s been doing all his life.

he adjusts the strap on your shoulder with a gentle pat, but his hands linger for a few seconds longer than they should, and you lift your eyes to meet his. “can i kiss you again?” he asks quietly, and for some reason his choice of words sticks with you. not one final kiss, not a goodbye kiss, just again. like he’s refusing to admit this will probably be the last time you’ll ever see each other.

and you nod, and his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and pull you back into his lips, just as warm and just as soft and just as familiar as the first time. there’s something so innocent about kissing him, even in the midst of a complicated and confusing mess of emotions that makes you second guess everything. somewhere in the back of your mind you vaguely register that this is the last time you’ll ever kiss him, but as long as his lips are on yours it doesn’t matter. you’ll figure out how to deal with all that later; for now, the only thing you’re concerned about is the way he grips your chin and pulls you even closer.

it feels like hours later when you finally pull away, letting out a slow exhale as you try to blink yourself back to reality, and you know what has to happen now. “can you find your hotel on your own? do you want me to walk back with you?” jun asks, and you can feel the hesitancy in his voice.

“it’s not far,” you sigh quietly, turning away to slip your feet into your sandals that wait by the bed where you’d taken them off earlier. you should’ve said yes. “but… thank you.” your words hold a sincere weight to them, and it’s silent for a few seconds as you cross the room quicker than you want to.

“you could stay,” he says finally, but his hand is already on the doorknob and you both already know the answer. you hate that you have to be the one to tell him no, even though it’s been clear from the start what the outcome would be. you give him a small shake of your head, and he pulls on the knob.

he stands and stares for a minute, watching you walk down the hallway and praying you’ll turn around. and then you do, glancing back at him over your shoulder, and he almost allows himself to have a little bit of hope that you might come back, even though you both know you can’t. when you find him still standing in the doorway your eyes light up just the slightest bit, and finally you disappear with a tiny little wave.

the door clicks shut again, and the silence that follows is louder than anything he’s heard all day.

“and you didn’t even get this guy’s number?!”

you wince at the tone in jeonghan’s voice, rubbing the back of your shoulder guiltily. “his name, either.”

“even after the magic old lady said all that shit about soulmates?”

“she didn’t say that!” you huff. your tone rises almost defensively, although it probably has no reason to. she didn’t say anything about being soulmates… right? “she said something like, ‘keep your eyes open for stuff around you’. but he said he didn’t even believe in it, anyway.”

a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses walks past, and he snags a couple of them, holding one out to you. “well, it doesn’t sound like you’re keeping your eyes open. it sounds more like your eyes are closed, actually. are you blind?”

you scowl and take the glass from him. “my flight home is tonight, hannie. i’m not gonna see him again.” you take a sip, letting it sit in your mouth for a second before you swallow. “and besides, he said he was here for a wedding, too. he could be from anywhere in the world. it would be impossible to find him.”

“doesn’t hurt to at least try.” you both stop in front of a circular table covered in flowers, with a little placard next to one of the plates with jeonghan’s name on it. “i guess this is my table. you want me to help you look for yours?”

you shake your head, pointing to a table a little ways away. “i saw mine on the way in, it’s over there.”

“whatever,” he hums at you, but you know he’s just teasing. “i still wouldn’t blame you if you ditched and ran off to try and find him.”

“not happening!” you call over your shoulder as you walk away, matching his playful tone. but you can’t help but feel like maybe he’s right.

jun taps his fingers against the table, staring mindlessly at the bubbles floating in his glass of champagne. he’s stuck in his head— no, that’s not right. that’s not the problem. you’re stuck in his head. it’s nearly a full day later and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you, the taste of your lips, the feel of your breasts in his hands, the scent of the shampoo in your hair. if that wasn’t the most perfect hookup in the history of hookups, then he doesn’t wanna know what is.

he still feels bad for not even paying attention during the ceremony, because he was too busy imagining you and him up there on the altar kissing instead. god, what he wouldn’t give for another kiss like that. but just like you, he knows it never would’ve worked out, and despite the what-ifs that are chewing him up inside and the fact that he definitely, absolutely, totally would’ve tried to make it work however large the distance was, he knows it’s probably for the better. even if it means he’s gonna spend the rest of his life pining after a girl he met on vacation for less than a single day, and he’ll never even know your name.

he takes a swig of his champagne and tries to put on a cheery face. this is a wedding, after all, and he can’t afford to spend all his time pouting when he’s in a beautiful city by the seaside enjoying delicious food and near perfect weather.

and then he sees you.

not really, of course, because it’s probably the champagne going to his head after chugging the majority of his glass like a frat boy at a college party. but then he blinks, and it really is you, wandering around for a second before you sit down at a table on the other side of the venue, wearing a soft blue dress that’s even prettier than the one he saw you in yesterday.

he blinks again, not fully believing that it’s you and not just the combined effect of the alcohol and his daydreams, but you’re still there when he opens his eyes again. and he knows it’s you, because he can see the faint hickies on your back and shoulders that you clearly tried to hide with makeup but couldn’t fully reach.

the chances that he’d see you again—not even that, but the chances that you’d be attending the very same wedding he was—must be one in a billion. maybe even more. yet there you are, picking at your nail and staring wistfully at your empty plate as you wait for the reception to start.

he stares for another minute, just to make sure you’re actually real, before he stands up and makes his way to the terrace at the back of the venue where the groom is standing next to a tower of cupcakes.

“gyu,” he greets him, “hey. are we allowed to switch tables?”

“i… don’t think so?” mingyu hums, a little off guard by the sudden question. “i made sure we put you next to hao, but—”

“if i give you twenty bucks, can you put me at table 8 instead?” jun’s eyes flicker with desperation, and he has to force himself not to look back over at you.

mingyu whines apologetically and hesitates, glancing at his bride a little ways away as she talks to a table full of guests. “she did all this planning, jun, i can’t just change everything now…”

“it’s not changing everything.” jun pulls his wallet out of his pants pocket, already rifling through the bills. “i’ll make it a hundred. mingyu, please, just switch me,” he says.

the whine in jun’s voice makes him pause, and he bites his lip as he considers it. on one hand, he could have his brand new wife a little bit mad at him for a while (who’ll probably forgive him the second she gets in bed with him tonight), plus get to help his friend and get an easy hundred dollars out of it. or, on the other hand… he could not help him, and his wife would never know, and jun would probably hate him for some unknown reason even though he doesn’t think jun has a single bone in his body capable of hating anybody. the decision is easy.

mingyu takes the bills from jun’s hand and stuffs them in his pocket before anyone can notice. “go ahead,” he says, tossing his head in the direction of the table. “i don’t know what it is you want, but don’t let anybody see you.”

“thanks! i owe you!” jun grins and hugs him, letting out a noise almost like a squeal before he turns and dashes away.

you’re barely paying attention to the reception anymore as you sit with your chin in your hands, again mentally running over all the things you need to pack and how on earth you’re going to be able to board your flight tonight and leave everything behind. the beaches, the city… and him. how are you supposed to just get on a plane and get on with your life, knowing that he’s out there somewhere in the world, and you’re never going to see him again.

you’re trying not to sulk, but you can’t help the way your mood has been sour all morning, already filled with regrets and you haven’t even left yet. maybe you should’ve skipped the wedding altogether and spent another day in his bed, wrapped up between his sheets and lying in his arms. but then the rational part of your brain reminds you that he was also in town for a wedding, so even if he’d wanted to or even been okay with doing that, he probably had other plans anyway.

you’re still trying to figure out what to do about your hopeless situation when you hear a sound close behind you. it startles you into putting a smile on your face, preparing yourself to socialize although you really aren’t in the mood to.

“is this seat taken?” jun asks as he pulls out the chair to your left and sits down.

your brows furrow in confusion, trying to place the familiar voice, until you turn around and your jaw drops when you see who it belongs to.

you stare at him in shock, your eyes darting back and forth between his trying to figure out what to say. “you’re not joshua,” is the best you can come up with as your mouth hangs open and you whip your head around to check the list of names assigned to this table. you recognize them all, yet here he is: the nameless stranger you’ve fallen so helplessly in love with in so short an amount of time.

he smiles at your reaction, and it’s such a genuine smile that you know he’s feeling exactly the way you do right now. “i guess you’re right. i’m not.” he brushes the name card in front of him to the side and sets his own down in its place instead before he holds out his hand to shake. “it’s nice to meet you. i’m jun.”

you pause for a minute, staring at his hand. you can’t believe this is real, you can’t believe he’s real; you’d almost been able to convince yourself that the whole encounter last night was a fever dream, if you hadn’t woken up in the morning with a soreness between your legs that screamed that it definitely was not a dream.

finally you reach out and take his hand, and even in that little touch you can tell it really is him, from the way your heart picks up when you feel the familiar softness of his skin and the gentle squeeze that sends goosebumps down your arm.

“it’s nice to meet you, too.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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taglist — located in the replies

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bleedingoptimism · 7 months ago

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“I’m sorry Steve, I thought we were just having fun! I enjoyed you taking me out and paying for everything that’s all…” Is what Shelley said to him when Steve walked into the bar and saw her flirting with another guy.

Obviously, he smiled and shook his head, said everything was okay, ‘Just a silly misunderstanding’ and left, ever so graceful. But the second he was outside he cursed, tried not to shed a tear, failed, and then started laughing.

He probably looks like a mad man, or a drunk. But no, don’t worry people, he’s not drunk or crazy, he’s just really, really stupid. He thought Shelley really liked him, he thought they were dating. And Shelley just assumed he was just another playboy so she played him back. He’s not even mad at her. She didn't mean to hurt him. It’s not her fault Steve is just so easy to hurt.

Sighing, he gets his phone out to get an uber and hugs himself even though it’s not really that cold outside, waiting for his car, already imagining the big, greasy burger he’s going to order when he gets home. He deserves it, okay?

The car that pulls out has definitely seen better days, but it’s clean and comfortable so Steve doesn’t think twice about getting in. He offers the driver a smile through the rearview mirror, sparing a moment to notice his eyes are big and dark, and they crinkle when he smiles back at him.

Steve sits stiff and straight for a moment before realizing no one is there to judge him right now and he deflates, sighing again and letting himself collapse against the seat. Still hugging himself to feel any sort of comfort, he bumps his head against the window softly a couple of times.

“Long night?” The driver asks him in a friendly manner.

Steve meets his eyes in the rearview again and shrugs, smiling back crookedly “Thought I should go home early since I already accomplished making an ass of myself for the night”

He checks the uber app for the driver’s name, doesn’t want to be rude by not remembering. ‘Eddie’ chuckles at Steve's statement.

“You did, huh? Well good job on getting it out of the way then,”

Steve chuckles back, “Yeah, I was actually thinking I deserve a treat”

He notices Eddie looking back at him a couple of times before breathing an interested, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, “A huge cheesy burger or something” Wondering what Eddie was thinking he’d say.

Eddie laughs again, “Oh! Right of course” and just when he’s about to say something else his phone rings.

“Oh, sorry” Eddie murmurs, immediately hanging up on whoever is calling.

“No worries,” Steve mumbles back, sitting up a little straighter again.

“So, what’s your favorite dirty burger place?” Eddie asks him.

Steve can tell he’s trying to distract him from the mood he entered the car with and he really appreciates it.

He sits forward and leans his forearms against the headrest of the passenger seat, “Oh, there’s so many, but…” from this angle, he can see Eddie’s face better, and he can’t help but think he’s got a really nice looking profile, long lashes, full lips, and the cutest nose he’s ever seen, “I think Benny’s the best one” he finishes.

Eddie pulls at a stop light and turns to look at him with a smile and he’s so much prettier than Steve first thought he involuntarily gasps. But thankfully Eddie is talking excitedly and doesn’t seem to notice.

“No way you know Benny’s?! Benny is my uncle! Well, he’s married to my uncle actually- you know what I mean but yeah, Benny’s is great!”

It’s such a weird coincidence that it managed to take Steve out of his stupor and he’s suddenly just as excited as Eddie,

“Really? Oh my god, I’m so jealous right now, I wished I could live at Benny’s sometimes”

Eddie laughs, and just when he opens his mouth to reply his phone rings again. This time he doesn’t immediately hang up and Steve sees the screen light up with the name “you deserve better”

Ouch, he thinks, and his heartstrings tug for his cute, sweet, uber driver. Who offered him friendly conversation cause he noticed he was feeling down and has the most beautiful laugh. He doesn't really know why he feels so strongly about it, he doesn't even know Eddie… but he still feels the text is right. Whoever hurt him, Eddie deserved better.

“Hey,” He says softly when Eddie hangs up cursing.

Eddie sighs again, “I’m so sorry,”

“Hey, no. It’s fine,” Steve replies, resisting the urge to place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

He figures, after the way his night started, he’s got nothing to lose so he says, “So much talk about Benny’s I feel like I need to go there right now.”

Eddie let’s out a distracted “Huh?” and Steve soldiers on, “Wanna change the destination and join me? You can take me home after,”

He notices Eddie doing a double take and blushing, “Really? I- Am- I- okay” he stammers but Steve can’t really figure out why.

“Yeah, you know, that way you don’t lose time on the job and have another ride?” He finishes and Eddie laughs,

“Oh, right. Yeah That- makes sense”

They keep talking about their favorite things on the menu on the way there and soon they are sitting face to face in a booth at Benny’s.

What a pair they make, Steve in a three piece suit, jacket off, vest undone and shirt rolled up to his forearms. And Eddie with sweats and a hoodie.

Eddie is even better looking in the shitty dinner light and the blush that adorns his cheeks ever since they came in makes Steve wanna kiss them to feel their warmth.

Benny himself comes to take their order, and Eddie gets up to hug him and introduces him to Steve. They already know each other, because Steve does come to the dinner often and Benny lets Eddie know that.

Eddie thinks it's hilarious that they both have been here so much and never saw each other before, but Steve can’t help to think it’s a shame.

“I actually would’ve loved to have met you sooner,” he tells Eddie at one point and watches curiously as Eddie’s blush turns a few shades darker.

As they eat, Steve tells Eddie about Shelley, about his hopes, about misreading the situation, about his shame. How he doesn’t even think he liked Shelley that much, but he just wanted to have something real. Eddie gets mad at him for blaming himself, tells him it wasn’t his fault, that he’s being too hard on himself. And it’s not a bad thing to consider but all Steve can think about is how cute Eddie looks when he’s mad on his behalf.

Eventually, Eddie tells Steve about whoever was calling him.

“I met him at my last job. I thought he was so cool but turns out he was actually just cold,” Eddie shrugs, “We dated for like 6 months or something, not that long but, I was miserable the whole time and I didn’t even realize it was because of him.”

Eddie’s hand is tearing up a paper napkin between them and Steve tentatively settles his hand over Eddie’s, who stops destroying the napkin and smiles gratefully at Steve, holding his hand back.

“The worst part is I didn’t even break up with him, he broke up with me,” Eddie chuckles self-deprecatingly, “But he still wanted to keep me around I guess… And I… didn’t want to feel lonely”

They both stay quiet for a moment after that, and Steve stares at their hands joined over the greasy dinner table and thinks about loneliness, about how he doesn't feel it right now, with Eddie.

“So, what happened?” he asks after a bit.

“I did eventually realize he was the one making me feel like shit so I stopped seeing him but he didn’t appreciate my new sense of self-respect,” Eddie says lightly and Steve instinctively squeezes his hand protectively, which makes Eddie smile again, “I’m doing just fine now though, I told him to fuck off and got a new job. And it’s actually pretty good, ya know?”

Steve can’t help but smile back at Eddie’s cute expression, “Yeah?”

“Hell yeah, my own hours? Good money? Plus I’ve always liked driving around, it calms me. And I get to meet really interesting people…” he says, winking at Steve and making him chuckle.

“Well, I’m glad then. Proud of you for getting out of there,”

“Me too,” Eddie says and looks up as Benny walks over to them.

“Sorry to interrupt boys, but we are about to close for the night,” He says, stifling a yawn.

Steve looks surprised at his watch, it’s almost 2 A.M. He can’t believe he’s been sitting here with Eddie for hours when it only felt like a few minutes.

He offers to cover the bill but Benny fights him over it and says it’s his treat. And Eddie offers to take him home no charge. So they get in Eddie’s car again only this time Steve sits next to him instead of in the back and they talk about music on their way to his place while Steve changes the radio stations. Laughing, singing and joking around, it’s such a good time. It feels like they’ve been doing this forever, like they could do this…forever. But eventually they arrive at Steve’s building and suddenly Steve doesn’t want the night to end.

He’s about to tell Eddie as much, maybe invite him inside, when his phone rings again, the ‘you deserve better’ staring at them. But Eddie immediately grabs his phone and hangs up, blocking the number after.

“There, he can’t call me again,” he says with a sigh.

“Can I see your phone for a second?” Steve ventures, making a last second decision.

Eddie looks surprised but curious as he hands it over and Steve punches his phone in.

“If you ever feel like unblocking him, or calling him back… Why don’t you try calling me instead?” he says in a rush and then walks out of the car, not lingering to see Eddie’s reaction.

There’s always the positivity that he got things wrong again, got too invested too soon again and he doesn’t want to know tonight. He’ll deal with it later, if Eddie doesn't call.

🚗📱🍔💙

It takes only two days for Steve’s phone to ring, an unknown number flashing on his screen. He picks it up feeling a little out of breath for no reason at all.

“Hello?”

“Steve?”

“Eddie, I”

“Wait- before you say anything I just want you to know that I didn’t call because I wanted to call him, or I was thinking about him. I called because I can’t stop thinking about you, I wanted to talk to you. Okay?”

“Eddie- yes! It’s more than okay, I- I was hoping you’d call”

fin 💙

☕🥐💕 coffee? oovoo javer?

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #i wrote something #i wish i could come up with more innuendos for steve to drop and eddie to misunderstand cause it was tickling me #ya know i saw that post about the driver and i was inspired. if you are out there uber driver i hope you are okay <3

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hoshigray · 1 year ago

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𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 | ryōmen sukuna

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x fem/afab! reader - mosterfucking - double penetration (he got two) - biting - spanking - light choking - mention of blood.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: a quick something I wrote for Sukuna to take a break from writing a fic + I have jack shit for him in my masterlist, lmao.

Ryōmen Sukuna is most definitely a biter. There is no need to state this since it is obvious. But imagine him plowing you from behind, watching your ass quake under his erratic thrusts, forcing out choked moans from your writhing body moving to and fro with his. Tears roll down warm cheeks onto the cold cream sheets that cover the futon. Hands grip the material for dear life with every rut to your leaky cunt. And when he smacks the cusp of your ass, a shriek cannot be restrained from your lips.

Sukuna loves your screams. They please him to no end — a gorgeous tune to his devilish ears. As a sadistic man, nothing gives him more joy during these moments than inflicting pain onto your sweet tiny body forced to accommodate both his girthy cocks. A beast like him is allowed to use you as he sees fit. His little pet. His little toy. Not like you can refuse. Judging by how your body adapts to his dicks inside your holes, it is apparent that you're also enjoying this, too.

Two hands are stationed on your hips to propel you forward to him, and the other two hold your hands behind your back. You're left with nothing to conceal the whimpers and cries that fly out your mouth. He wants to hear it all — the sound of your ass meeting his pelvis, the choked sobs when his black fingertips dent into the depth of your hips, your pants for air as he takes them away. It turns him on so fucking much.

He can’t fight the urge anymore — the sight of your sweaty body quivering under his bow gets him riled up. Your skin, so beautiful and pure, displayed none of his markings from the times before now. Blue eyes narrow to your shoulder, clear of nothing but sweat. Well, he’s just going to have to fix that.

He comes down to your shoulder and sinks his teeth into your flesh. A sharp cry sneaks its way out of you.

“Eyyahhhh!!! Su-Sukuna, don’t, please! I can’t have any ma— Ahhaahhnn!!”

“Who told you’re in a position to order me, brat?” He gives the mark on your shoulder a slow lick, tasting the twinge of blood to engage his taste. One of his hands snakes its way to your throat to squeeze. Your mind plunging into a deeper haze than before. “Know your place. Don’t stop screaming for me.”

More chews to your shoulders prompt more tears to escape from your strained-shut eyes. And the pacing of his cock becomes unbearably fast for your brain and senses to keep up. The pain inflicted by his demon mouth, along with the tongue from his stomach licking the sweat of your back, coinciding with the erratic tempo of his hips — it’s all too much to bear. And your release hits you hard, your cunt and ass clamping onto his lengths that continue to rut into your now sensitive parts.

“Mmmph, haahhh…Heh, now you think you can come without my permission, huh?” Sukuna whispers dangerously to your ear, and you whine when his teeth catch your lobe. “Such a pathetic pet, aren’t you.” He pistons his dicks deep inside, churning your tender areas to the point of incoherent babbles. “A damn noisy one, too…Hmmgh! Oh fuck, fuck…”

Before he experiences his climax, Sukuna gives the back of your neck one last bite. Your final shriek signals the ingress of his warm load filling your holes. He keeps you pinned to the futon, making sure you stay still for every bit of his essence to enter within you. Your mind is too far gone to try and fight it — too occupied with the feeling of him corrupting your body internally. Just letting him ride out his own crescendo until he slowly dismembers his huge members off of you. Heavy pants are used to steady his breathing, and he examines his messy work on your body. Bloody bite marks, your ass trembling from the onslaught of ruts and slaps, and silent tears trickle down a dazed face. He snickers to himself.

“Perfect.”

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luveline · 2 months ago

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Hey!! I love love LOVE your criminal minds content so much, especially the Hotch with unexpected daughter reader. Is there any chance you’re gonna write more for that series? I’d literally take anything, the comfort vibes are off the charts with your works and I need some Hotch comfort. But no worries if not, hope you have a great week <33

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

Jack peers at you from over the furthest armrest. “Y/N. Are you grumpy?”

“Do I look grumpy?” you ask.

“Yes.” He pokes his eyebrow. “You do.”

“My face is betraying me then, because I’m not grumpy.”

“Mine does that to me all the time but mom doesn’t believe it.”

You give him a small nudge. “Your mommy probably knows you better than you know yourself, like, knows how you’re feeling before you do.”

“But how does she know?”

“I think it’s because she loves you. She really loves you, babe. You’re lucky.”

“So lucky.” He climbs over the armrest and onto the couch, smiling at you politely, like a friend he’s just found at school.

You try to see the similarities in your faces. He looks more like Haley than he does Aaron. You look more like your mother, too. There are bits of Aaron in both of you, yours not quite as physical —Jack’s tame when it comes to expressing emotion, and you both talk in a measured tone. (Though your tone is coincidence or genetics, but not learned. You’d have to have known him growing up for it to be learned.)

“Did dad tell you what mommy said?” Jack asks.

You glance over his head but see no one. Aaron said he was going to get chips for movie night, and Haley tends to find things to do. “No.”

“It’s a secret.”

“Well, you don’t have to tell me.”

“You can’t tell anyone,” he says.

Your stomach feels not your own. “I won’t,” you promise.

“Mommy says you’re here too much.”

You nod slowly. Jack frowns at you as though waiting for you to be upset, but you’ve suspected she thinks so for a while. It’s not something you blame her for.

Jack watches you.

“Dad got really mad.”

“I’m sorry, Jack. That must’ve been scary.”

Jack drops his face into your arm. “No. Dad doesn’t yell. But he slept in my room with me.”

“Want a hug?” you whisper.

Jack squirms under your arm. You pull him toward you and try to divide your feelings into boxes. Embarrassed and horrified and a little annoyed that Haley thinks you’re here too much. Sad and again embarrassed that Aaron defended you.

This is Haley’s house, and she never signed up for you. She’s never made you feel unwelcome but that doesn’t mean she wants to see you every Saturday. You're a huge new wedge inserted in their married lives, and now you’re affecting Jack, making his parents argue.

“I’m sorry,” you say, suddenly flooded by a wave of hot, awkward regret.

You knew when you found out that Aaron was your father that you would change his life. You’ve always hoped it would be for the better, but maybe it isn’t.

“Jack…” you say. What is it about hugging him that makes you feel like crying? “I’m real sorry, I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

“It’s not your fault. I like you here. You’re fun.”

“Thanks, Jack.”

He looks up at you. “Will you stop coming over?”

“I guess it’s up to your mommy.” You falter. “Jack?”

“What?”

“I’m sorry if having a new sister isn’t as fun as you thought it would be. I don’t want to make things harder for you, but I guess I did.”

“Mom says everything is hard now.”

You bite the inside of your cheek in efforts to hide how you’re feeling. “I’m sorry. Um, listen, can I have a big hug? I just remembered I have to go help my mom at home.”

“You’re leaving?”

“Sorry, Jack.”

Jack gives you a hug. You gather your things and rush to the door to shove your shoes on, but your dad catches you before you can leave.

“Where are you going?” Aaron asks, his smile falling.

“I–” He makes you nervous, and you know your stammer gives you away. “I forgot I had to do the laundry for my mom tonight, if I don’t do it she’ll be mad for days.”

“I’m sure you can make it up to her tomorrow,” he suggests gently.

“I better go.”

“Honey, what’s really going on?”

“The laundry is really going on,” you say, unconvincing. “I have to go, I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay. Well, I’ll see you on–”

You open the door before he can finish or offer a hug, image of him in his loose t-shirt carrying a tray of sandwiches burned into your guilty conscience.

—

You don’t see Aaron for three weeks before he corners you. You owe your great avoidance to his busy job, but it didn’t feel good to reject him, to refuse to make time for him as he does for you.

“You!” he says, clearly kidding but not entirely where he’s waiting outside of your university building. “Beautiful young woman in the blue! I have some questions for you.”

It’s so absurd for him that you immediately burst into shy laughter. “Dad, what?” you ask, hiding your face.

Classmates part around you, seemingly unperturbed.

Aaron retrieves his badge. “See this? I could detain you, but I won’t if you come quietly. In fact, if you don’t argue I’ll buy you lunch.”

“You’d buy my lunch regardless.”

He grabs you. Kindly, but grabbing all the same, like he’s worried you’re about to scarper. “Where have you been hiding?” he asks, giving you a quick hug. You feel tenseness in his arms you're unused to, hear a sadness in his voice that makes your throat burn.

Putting a table between you helps marginally. Aaron pretends he doesn’t know why you’ve been avoiding him and the Hotchner house, and you’re more than happy to go along with it, until.

“I have something to tell you,” he says.

You press against a piece of soaked fruit with your spoon. “Okay.”

“Haley and I are probably going to separate.”

You bite your tongue so hard it makes you flinch, spoon scratching the bottom of your bowl. “What?”

“We’ve been having problems ever since Jack was born.”

You stare.

Aaron is very still. He talks carefully. Not without emotion, but stilted, perhaps. “I’m not as good a father as I wish I were. And Haley sees that. Sweetheart, I haven’t ever wanted to burden you with the, uh, less than happy details of my life. I think you’ve suffered me enough. But I’m telling you because I know Jack told you about my most recent argument with Haley.” He smiles at you. “Honey, we fight too much. That day, it was about you, but it’s not all about you, and she doesn’t… Haley’s a good woman. She is. I’ve changed her life a hundred different ways and she hasn’t had many choices, and she…” Something vulnerable crops up, a wavering in his breath. “Sometimes I think she isn’t fair. She holds me to standards I can’t reach, no matter how hard I try, but we’ve stopped arguing about it so much recently, and I’m afraid that that’s… the death knell.”

“I’m sorry,” you say softly.

“I’m going to keep trying. I don’t want to lose her.” He drinks what’s left of his soda and presses his napkin under the edge of his plate. “But I won’t lose you, you know? I just want you to understand that you’re not the problem, and you never could be.”

“I don’t want to add another thing to your levy, dad,” you say, still soft.

“Meeting you is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Well, tied with your brother, of course. You aren’t a thing to be added to anything, you’re my daughter, and Haley might not like it but my home will always have a place for you.”

What if that’s the problem? From his perspective, you’re not a hindrance to his marriage so much as a separate issue, but from your own, it sounds like you’re just making things worse.

You’ve missed him, though, and you can’t argue that his reassurances aren’t working.

“It’s not that Haley doesn’t like you,” he adds, reaching for your hand, “more that she’s unhappy. I’m sorry that that’s something you had to carry.”

You often think to yourself that Aaron talks like he’s telling a story. He’s so calm and steady, the same as the feeling of his thumb on your wrist.

“I’m sorry I stormed out.”

“I wouldn’t call that storming out,” he says. “You’re too quiet sometimes. I wish you’d be upset out loud.”

“I just don’t want you to fight about me.”

“Honey,” —he holds your eyes, giving your wrist a gentle squeeze— “I’m always gonna fight for you. That’s what fathers do.”

#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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prazinos · 3 months ago

Text

Ghost Metal AU

Warnings ~ Porn with plot, Degradation, Oral {M&F}, face fucking, rough sex, mating press, fingering, piercings {M}, spitting, PiV, aftercare.

Word Count ~ 3.2k

You stood at the barrier that separates the crowd and the stage, your body practically vibrating with excitement. You spent nearly eight hours outside in order to get a good spot at the barrier. Why? Because 141 was playing.

The 141.

Soap on drums, Gaz on bass, Price on guitar, and your favourite, Ghost on lead guitar and vocals.

When you first heard 141 on your friends playlist, you were immediately obsessed.The way Ghosts voice sounded was incredible. Deep and gravelly, with a clear British accent, a Manchester accent you later figured out after stalking the entire band online.

So, as soon as your friend told you that the band was coming to play in your hometown, you immediately got tickets. They cost a fortune, but if it meant being noticed by Ghost, you’d be more than willing to spend your entire life savings.

You spent all day trying to find the perfect outfit for the concert, something that would stand out but blend in. A little slutty but not too much to make the band think you were just a desperate groupie wanting to get fucked. No, well, yes. You did want to get fucked. But you didn’t want the band to assume you were a groupie.

You could care less about the opening act. Some up and coming metal band you couldn’t even remember the name of. You just wanted 141 to come out, and while yes you knew the chances of being noticed by the band were miniscule, you still clung to a sliver of hope that sat in the forefront of your mind.

Finally, after what felt like forever, the stage lights lit up, the crowd filling with screams and shouts, your own scream following along, just as loud, if not, slightly louder.

All of the band except Ghost was on stage, and then you heard loud thudding. Like loud, slow footsteps, the crowd eerily silent in anticipation, before a final stage light lit up, and Ghost was right in fucking front of you.

He was huge. He had these black thick looking boots that were intimidating but didn’t actually add to his height. He was wearing these leather pants that weren’t skin tight but his thighs were so muscular the pants hugged them deliciously, a chunky belt with spikes on it. His chest was bare, and he had some scars on his chest, served in the military, you remember. The 141 was made entirely up of military friends who all got honourably discharged. When your eyes finally flittered up to Ghost’s face, they widened as you noticed Ghost’s eyes on you, wolfish smirk gracing his lips. Your heart practically lept into your throat, the beat of it quickening drastically.

“How are we doing tonight?” Ghost asked into the microphone in front of him, finally taking his eyes off you. The crowd screamed enthusiastically in response to his question. But then, you heard the telltale sound of Soap hitting his drumsticks together three times, indicating the start of the concert.

Throughout the concert, you kept making eye contact with Ghost, everytime it happened, your stomach twisted in excitement. The first few times it happened, you assumed it was pure coincidence, you convinced yourself of that. But when Ghost looked over at you for the fifth time of the night and winked, you clocked that it was no coincidence. That Ghost had actually taken interest in you.

As the final song finishes, you can’t help the disappointment that surges within your chest, but it’s quickly extinguished when Ghost looks down at you once more, gesturing his head to backstage, and you feel your skimpy panties become rapidly damp at the anticipation for what would happen when you went backstage.

Once the crowd had filtered out enough that you could move over to the backstage area, you saw three burly men whom you assumed were bodyguards, and a crowd of mostly women, all in scantily clad clothing.

You managed to push forward to where the bodyguards were standing, and your brows furrow when they don't let you pass. “Um, Ghost asked me to come back here?” you squeaked, to which the bodyguards chuckled mockingly.

“Oh, really?” One of the bodyguards spoke up, opening his mouth to say something mocking.

“Yes, really.” A deep voice spoke from behind the bodyguards, clearly startling them. And a bunch of the women beside you let out screams when Ghost stepped forward, his chest and abs still glistening with sweat. “Come on, sweetheart. You’re coming with me” he spoke, holding a hand out towards you.

Your brain blue screened for a moment, before you took his hand, some of the women and even men beside and behind you were whining and protesting. Begging Ghost to take them backstage instead of you. It lit a fire of confidence within you.

“Holy shit” you whispered as Ghost pulled you through the backstage area, and he chuckled at your awe.

“You that impressed, swee’eart?” Ghost asked, and you nodded dumbly, too starstruck to utter another word.

When Ghost pulled you into the green room, your eyes filled with further awe. The room smelled distinctly of whatever cologne Ghost used, cigarettes, and slightly of leather.

“Saw you staring at me, lovie” Ghost rumbled from behind you, and you turned, looking up at him, lashes fluttering a little.

“Well ‘m sure that there was plenty of people staring at you, kinda the point of a concert. Stare at a bunch of sweaty guys for two and a half hours” you quipped, which seemed to be the right thing to say, because Ghost smiled in amusement down at you.

“You make a fair point, lovie. But, you were the only one out there staring at me that caught my attention” Ghost hummed. Reaching up and gliding his thumb up your jaw, successfully running a shiver down your spine.

You knew that Ghost wasn’t one to sleep with groupies, that was more Soap and sometimes Gaz’s area. Price had said something in an interview about Soap and Gaz being younger, him and Ghost being older so they didn’t really need to sleep around a lot.

“Can practically hear you thinking, love. You wondering why I’m choosing to sleep with you, even though I don't normally sleep with groupies?” Ghost asked.

“I’m not a groupie,” you protested stubbornly, crossing your arms. “And…maybe, yeah. I am curious why you chose me to sleep with” you murmured.

“I’m sorry for my assumption, sweet thing. But to answer your question, I picked you because I could tell there was something different about you” Ghost hummed, raising a brow when you burst into giggles. “What’s got you giggling like a madwoman?” He asked.

“It’s like I’m in some wattpad story, reading a book in the crowd and you notice me because you can tell there's something different about me” you joke, making yourself giggle harder.

“Watt…pad?” Ghost asked.

“Forget it, can we just get on to the fucking part, now? My panties are soaked” you say, which makes Ghost smile and lean down slightly, sliding his hand up your thigh under your skirt and to the skimpy thong you had on, his fingers gliding against the soaked gusset of your panties, making you whine from the too little stimulation it gave you. Ghost’s lips met yours, sloppy, messy, but utterly brain numbing in the best way possible. There was a slight clack of teeth as you caught up and responded to the kiss. Your tongues meet and the disgustingly wet sounds filled the green room.

“Christ, you are soaked f’me, aren’t you” Ghost growled as he pulled away from the kiss, he trails his fingers back up and grazing the waistband of your thong, before they slide under the waistband and swipe them through your folds, pussy drooling with need.

“Uh huh” you whine, nodding your head as your hands grasp Ghost’s muscular biceps to stabilise yourself. Your knees slightly shaky, before you look up at him. “C-Can i suck your dick?” You asked hopefully, making Ghost smile smugly, and he nodded, unbuckling the chunky belt that held up his pants, your eyes trained on his rough, calloused fingers. They were so fucking thick that one could probably amount to two of your own.

You dropped to your knees, you’d regret that move in the morning when you woke up with a bruise on each knee, but at the moment, you blocked out the pain as Ghost finally got the belt open, tugging his black boxer briefs down just enough for his thick and heavy cock to slap up against his pelvis, then it bobs in front of your face a little. Almost hypnotising you.

Ghost’s cock was long, you expected it to be due to his tall stature, it was around eight inches long, relatively thick too, it was the biggest you’ve ever taken, and you were slightly worried for your throat, but that would be tomorrow's worry. Your brain seemed to finally process the silver glinting along his cock, you’d heard about that piercing. Jason’s ladder? No, Jacob’s ladder.

There were four bars running up his cock, he was cut, with a reddish tip, you assume he must’ve been hard for a while, and the precum that was oozing from his tip made your mouth water. You were also surprised at the neatly groomed dirty blonde pubic hair at the base of his cock. Ghost struck you as an untamed jungle kind of guy.

“You gonna do something or just keep starin’?” Ghost rumbled above you, effectively snapping you out of your thoughts.

You lean forward, looking up at Ghost through your lashes as you licked his tip in short, repetitive strokes, getting a taste for the pre that was drooling slowly from his slit. It was slightly bitter, you assumed from Ghost smoking. Your eyes land on the veins going up the underside of his cock, and you trace the thickest vein up to the tip, then, you slowly take him deeper and deeper into your mouth. Swallowing around him to suppress a gag.

“Fuck, lovie. You’re a natural, huh? Taking my cock so well” Ghost groaned, his large right hand going to the crown of your head. Encouraging you to take more of him. Your tongue gliding over the cold silver balls, sending a shiver down the guitarist's spine.

You moan around his cock as you take him deeper, which makes Ghost moan, rough and deep. You wanted to hear more, so you suppressed another gag and took him down your throat. Your eyes threaten to flutter shut, but you force them to stay open, your eyes trailing from Ghost’s deliciously thick, dirty blonde happy trail to his pleasure filled face.

“Good fucking girl” Ghost moaned deeply, “touch yourself for me. Rub that little clit of yours while you take my fat cock down your throat” he demanded, making him whine in need, but you listen. You hastily shove a hand down the front of your skirt, into your panties. You dip your fingers to your hole to wet your fingertips, before dragging them back up to circle your clit. A pathetic whine vibrating around Ghost’s cock.

“That’s it, just like that. Sucking my cock like you were made for it” Ghost growled, his hips thrusting into your mouth. “Gonna let me fuck your face? Let me use your mouth like you’re nothing but a warm hole for me to use?” he asked, and you pulled off his cock, wiping the drool from your chin.

“Please” you beg, slightly surprised at how raspy your voice had already become. But you didn’t have time to dwell on it as your mouth was full of cock again. Ghost thrusted his hips repetitively, groaning with almost every thrust.

You felt saliva drip down your chin, as well as Ghost’s balls hitting the underside of your chin with each thrust forward. Your moans getting more frequent around Ghost’s cock as you get closer to coming. Your fingers rubbing clumsy circles over your clit.

A loud gasp falls from your lips as Ghost suddenly pulls his cock free from your mouth and you get pulled to your feet. Your eyes fill with visible confusion as you take your fingers out of your panties, only for Ghost to grab your wrist and lift your hand to take the digits wet with the evidence of your desire into his mouth.

Your thighs clenched together at the feeling of his tongue laving over your fingers, watching Ghost’s eyes threaten to roll back from the taste of you. Your fingers once wet with your arousal, now wet with his saliva.

“God, I need to eat your pretty little pussy,” Ghost groaned, lifting you with ease and setting you down on the couch in the green room. He kneels down in front of you, and his thick fingers tug your skirt down, then he grasps the waistband of your thong and moves it upwards.

You give Ghost a confused look before you moan as the tightened fabric of your thong grinds against your clit. Your hole clenching in need. “Please!” you beg, voice whiny and pathetic to your own ears, although you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Please what?” Ghost asked, his eyes having a mischievous glint to them. “You need to be specific with what you’re asking for,” he tells you, causing your cheeks to redden.

“Please…eat my pussy” you murmur, pouting down at him. Your words making Ghost break out into a wolfish grin.

He lowers his head, the hands holding the waistband of your thong pull it down. They then grab your thighs, spreading them wide.

Ghost spreads your folds with his index and middle finger, and leans forward, licking a broad stripe up your cunt to get a taste. Tangy, sweet, and slightly salty. It makes his mouth water, so much so that he pulls away for a moment to spit directly on your clit, which makes your thighs twitch, and a guttural groan comes from you.

Your hands reach down and tangle in his blonde hair, you squeak when Ghost thrusts his tongue into your hole, then drags his tongue up to circle your sensitive and swollen clit.

“You taste so fucking good, baby” Ghost groaned, burying his face further into your cunt. His mouth sucks on your folds, tongue thrusts inside you, licks his tongue over your clit. It all felt like too much and yet not enough at the same time.

“G-Ghost, please! Fingers, need y’fingers so bad” you whine, your brain getting desperate and horny “wanna be full of your fingers! Please please please!” You beg, gasping sweetly when Ghost finally pushes two of his thick fingers inside you.

The burn from the stretch of his stupidly big fingers was there, but the pleasure from his fingers curling up and stroking your g-spot overpowered it immensely. Ghost wasn’t afraid to be rough with his fingers, the wet squelching sounds of your pussy reacting to his touch made you blush, but it also made your clit throb in his mouth and walls clench around his fingers.

You let out a frustrated whine as Ghost slows his fingers and tongue to a stop, before pulling away fully and standing up, looking down at you.

“Need to feel you come on my cock, baby” Ghost growled, his hands smoothing up and down your thighs and hips as he spoke. You nodded your head, lips parting.

“‘M on birth control,” you murmured, desperate to feel the piercings on his cock against your walls. “I promise, I’m on birth control,” you said, noting the suspicion in Ghost’s eyes. He had every reason to be suspicious. People try to baby trap celebrities all the time.

“I’m gonna trust you, sweet girl, but tomorrow I’m gonna take you out to breakfast and also to get a plan B pill. Just in case” Ghost said softly, moving some of your sweat-damp hair from your forehead.

You nodded in agreement, trying to brush off the breakfast comment, you weren’t convinced that you were that special.

Ghost lined himself up with your entrance, hooking your legs over his shoulders, making you slouch slightly on the couch.

“Alright” Ghost whispered, slowly starting to thrust into your cunt “big stretch, baby” he drawled out, relishing in the gasps and whimpers of pleasure you gave him as his fat cock filled you, a deep moan ripping from your chest as his tip kissed your cervix.

“So fucking big” you gasped, your nails digging into his back, panting a few times before sighing in ecstasy, becoming putty in Ghost’s arms. “Piercings feel so…so good” you whisper, eyes fluttering. The silver balls brushed up against your wall, making you whine, legs twitching on Ghost’s shoulders.

“Atta girl, taking my cock to the hilt like you were made for it” Ghost groaned, cradling the back of your head with his large hand to make sure you wouldn’t hit your head awkwardly on the firm back of the couch. “You feel so good around me, so fucking tight and wet” he moaned.

You gasped and clawed at Ghost’s back as he started thrusting. His thrusts getting faster and rougher with each jerk of his hips. Your pussy was sopping wet, every thrust caused a wet sound to emit from your hole.

Your brows furrowed in confusion when Ghost paused for a moment, a squeal coming from you as he practically folded you in half. Your eyes roll back with another gasp, then squeal as Ghosts thrusts get all that more intense.

“Ghost-I-oh my God!” You cried out, frantically grabbing at his shoulder blades in pleasure.

“Not Ghost, baby. Simon, use my name. Need to hear you scream my fucking name” Ghost growled, nipping at your neck.

“S-Simon!” You cried out, your eyes rolling back, your hips bucking up, which in turn made sparks of pleasure shoot up your spine.

“That’s it” Ghost chuckled, thrusting deeply and harshly “you’re doing so well, so fucking well” he groaned, his balls slapping against your ass which each thrust forward.

“My clit” you beg “please! Please rub my clit. So close, so so close!” you keened.

Ghost reached between you and rubbed your nub in small quick circles with his thumb, your pussy spasming around his cock. “Simon!” You screamed, your orgasm washing over you like a tsunami, starting in your cunt, and spreading like wildfire up your body and even through your fingertips.

“Fuck!” Ghost cursed, his brows knitting together as his thrusts get desperate and sloppy “gonna fucking come, gonna come, fuck!” he growled, burying his cock to the hilt inside your still sensitive pussy, his seed coating your walls. Ghost thrusted a few times before pulling out, which in turn made you whine from overstimulation, grimacing at the feeling of Ghost’s cum dripping from your pussy.

“Here we go” Ghost murmured, cleaning up your pussy with some tissues he got from the coffee table in the room. His eyes flickering over your naked body, admiration in his eyes.

“Hardest i’ve ever come in my life” you giggled, smiling dumbly up at Ghost, who merely chuckles and shakes his head, kissing you gently.

Once you were tidied up, clit still throbbing a little, Ghost pulls you to lie down on top of him on the couch. his large hand stroking your spine gently, occasionally pressing kisses to your hairline while he praised you, his heartbeat lulling you to sleep.

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ponderingmoonlight · 28 days ago

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Your Arranged Marriage Series

Part 1: Gojo Satoru

Word Count: 4,1k (lmao)

Synopsis: You've been promised to Gojo Satoru since you've took your first breath. But even though your paths a intertwined with each other, he treats you like a shadow that follows him through his life. Until you've having enough. Until your on the brink of losing your life during a mission.

Warnings: The beginning is full of hurt so be prepared, the reader is rather quiet and a little shy in this one, huge fluff bomb in the end of this, not 100% proofread bc I NEEDED to publish this. Please let me know if you'd want me to make this a series and comment who needs to get a part in my arranged marriage series next 🤍

There wasn’t a day in your life when you weren’t promised to Gojo Satoru. No, not even a single second. As soon as you opened your eyes exactly one hour apart from the honoured one, you were promised to him for eternity. You, an ordinary girl from an average sorcerer family, married into the wealthy Gojo clan.

What a lucky girl you are.

“Watch your step, dumbass.”

Truly lucky.

“Sorry”, you mutter more to yourself than the white-haired boy who just crashed into your shoulder roughly.

Truth is, Satoru and you never got along well. Was it the pressure from both your parents, the tension that filled the air whenever you entered the same room? The unspoken promise your parents gave, the fact that you’ll have to carry his children rather sooner than later.

After all, this is what all of this mess is about. You were chosen because Satoru Gojo is forced to guarantee the next bloodline of successful sorcerers, to bring up another honoured one. Why you?

“The fact that you were born on the same day was a sign of heaven. It was meant to be. It was fate.”

Or rather a stupid coincidence, how you like to call it.

A stupid coincidence that chained you to a boy who looks at you with so much disgust in his gaze that you can’t help but feel that numb throbbing in your chest whenever he walks by.

It’s not like you care about his opinion. To be honest, you don’t know a lot about the honoured one who carefully avoids you like the plague. But maybe the fact that he doesn’t even know you and still decides to hate you to the brim is even more hurtful than that.

“Don’t think too much of it. He had a rough day, (y/n).”

You give the black-haired boy in front of you a small smile. Unlike Gojo, Suguru always makes sure to check on you. When Gojo is out for yet another mission, the two of you share your lunchbreaks with each other while talking about everything and everyone. Unlike your fiancé, Suguru really seems to enjoy your company.

“How was your mission? I heard it was pretty rough”, he continues, guiding you to a bench nearby and sitting down next to you.

“It was. A lot of people had to die because of nothing. I wasn’t able to save them all…”, you mutter.

Will you ever hold a candle against the great Satoru Gojo? In comparison to him, you always felt like a dim light in the wind. One wrong movement, one challenging mission and you’re gone.

“Even a special grade sorcerer can’t save everyone. Even Satoru has to deal with losses from time to time, you know?”

“Why are you wasting your time talking to trash again, Suguru?”

You follow his all too familiar voice until your gaze reaches his ice-cold glare. When was the last time he smiled at you? Maybe he never did in the first place.

“Please, it’s okay Suguru. Don’t start-“

“You’d know that’s not true if you’d actually talk to (y/n)”, Suguru replies dryly while positioning himself in front of you.

Oh no, you desperately tried avoiding situations like those. If there’s one think Gojo can’t let slide, it’s being provoked. And if there’s one thing you can’t stand, it’s confrontation.

Gojo’s smirk twists into something colder, his gaze shifting briefly to you before settling back on Suguru. You can feel your guts turn in an instant, mind already preparing for whatever he’ll throw at you next.

"Oh, is that what you think, Suguru?" he sneers.

"If you knew the whole story, you’d know she’s only here because her parents practically sold her off. Guess they figured a rich fiancé would solve all their little problems."

Your parents, selling you off? You swallow hard, desperately trying to get rid of that tight knot that starts building up in your throat almost immediately. Is that all he sees in you? He, the man who’s supposed to spend his whole life with you? Him, who ruined every minor chance you had on a romantic relationship? It’s not only his life that got turned upside down by that stupid bond both your parents made years ago.

Suguru’s expression hardens, his jaw clenched as he stands firmly between you and Gojo.

"That’s low, even for you, Satoru.”

Something inside you snaps. The quiet, bothering frustration you've carried for so long starts to boil over.

Before you can think it through, you step forward, your voice steadier than you feel.

"Is that really all you think of me, Gojo?"

The words surprise even you, but you push on, meeting his cold gaze.

"Do you really believe I wanted any of this?"

Your voice is tight but clear, every word sharpened by the years you've kept silent.

"You think I asked to be engaged to someone who looks at me like I'm some burden? As if I had any more choice in this than you did?"

Gojo's smirk falters slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but he quickly schools his expression.

But you don’t back down. Not when those words are finally flying off your tightened chest.

"It’s not only your life that got flipped upside down by this arrangement. I’ve tried to make the best of it, tried to make it work, but I can't do that if you’re determined to see me as nothing but a... a gold digger, a burden, a disease."

You take a shaky breath, feeling the knot in your throat loosen as you finally speak your truth.

Suguru glances back at you, his expression softening with something close to pride. Gojo, for once, stays silent, his gaze unreadable as he looks at you.

Did you really talk to him? You, who usually didn’t even dare to meet his gaze, who never talked to him again after he made fun of you in front of the entire school? You, who never voiced her opinion, who never dared to raised her voice? You always played along, always lived right by his side without a single word of protest. And now you’re standing in front of him, your rapid breaths hanging in the air, your beautiful face twisted in a mix of unreadable feelings.

“I never asked for this engagement. All I ever did was getting born into this word”, you croak out, voice breaking mid-sentence.

God, you have to look pathetic right now with tears filling your eyes to the brim and fists shaking. How did someone like you end up being the fiancé of none other than Gojo Satoru? He needs someone feisty, someone who can stand up to him, whose confidence overpowers his humor. Is was the worst match right from the start, doomed to failure.

But how are you supposed to live with this outlook? What about the happy future you imagined way too often before drifting off to sleep, the caring and loving husband you always wished for? All those looks at boys you never risked because of him while he was out there drooling after other girls. How are you supposed to be okay with the stinging fact that your future husband feels nothing but disgust for you?

“But you know what’s the worst? You never even gave me a chance, never allowed me to get to know you. We’re strangers because you decided we’ll be. And you hate me even though you don’t even know my favourite color.”

You need to get out of here right now. Out of this way too constricting hallway, away from him and his judging glare while tears stream down your face like a waterfall. You never asked for this puny life in the shadow of Satoru Gojo, waiting for the day he is forced to marry and sleep with you.

You never wanted this.

“Suguru”, Satoru speaks up after what feels like an eternity.

“Can you tell me what’s her favorite color?”

-a few weeks later-

His eyes scan the lonely hallway you usually hide yourself in automatically, desperately searching for any sign of you.

Satoru hasn’t seen you since that day. And to be honest, he felt like a jerk ever since. Your words cut through his heart like a hot knife, the agony in your voice still echoing through his mind. You don’t deserve the pain he caused you. Fuck, he never even deserved you in the first place.

You in that sundress, sitting in the down-going sun while reading all those books he’d never understand. You with your cursed technique that would beat him by miles if it wasn’t for his six eyes. You with your calm and collected demeanour that made every single of your classmates here at jujutsu high fall hard for you.

Truth is, Satoru Gojo never had the courage to approach you. Not after treating you so horribly when you were kids, not when he was never the man you’d deserve. What if you’d reject him, what if your heart belongs to someone else?

“I’m a coward”, Gojo groans while letting himself fall tragically against a nearby wall.

“Can’t argue with that. Are you really telling me you treated her like shit because you didn’t wanna marry her back when both of you were kids?”, Suguru comments dryly.

“Stop judging me Suguru, you’re supposed to be my mental support!”

“Not when you’re acting like the biggest douchebag walking on earth. What the hell were you thinking?”

Gojo lets out a long sigh, dragging a hand through his hair in frustration.

"You don’t get it, Suguru," he mutters, staring down at his feet. "

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to marry her, or that I thought she wasn’t good enough or something. It’s just… I never had a choice. Neither of us did."

Suguru crosses his arms, his expression unimpressed.

"And that justifies you treating her like garbage? You realize how pathetic that sounds, right?"

Gojo winces, the truth hitting harder than he'd like to admit.

"Yeah, I know. But back then... all I could see was that my whole life had been decided for me. My parents barely even asked if I wanted it. They just assumed it was best for the clan, for me, whatever."

"So, what? You took it out on her?"

“I know it sounds stupid, but I felt... trapped. And she was part of that trap. Every time I saw her, it just reminded me of everything I couldn’t choose for myself. I thought if I pushed her away, maybe it’d hurt less. Maybe I’d feel like I was in control."

Suguru shakes his head, a mixture of sympathy and disbelief in his eyes.

"So instead of talking to her, you just became the one thing she’d never want in a partner?"

Gojo leans back against the wall, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Yeah, genius move, right? I thought I could make her hate me, so she'd never have to be tied down to some jerk who couldn’t get over himself. But instead... I just made her hate me for real."

Suguru’s silence says more than any scolding could, and Gojo closes his eyes, feeling the weight of his own choices settle heavily on him.

“Truth is, I secretly looked out for her when I had the chance. I even listened to some of your conversations from time to time.”

“That’s pathetic, man. She’s literally your fiancé-“

“I GET IT OKAY.”

Gojo signs to himself while rubbing his eyes over and over again.

“I fucked up, okay? I need to talk to her.”

“Good idea after more than 16 years of ignoring her”, Suguru comments dryly.

-on the battlefield-

You can’t catch your breath, your own blood taking your sight almost completely. This was supposed to be an easy mission for a special grade sorcerer. Go in, get the artefact, save the people and leave. You’ve done that 100 times already.

But today?

You cough up the bitter taste of iron, crimson now covering your shaky hands.

Today you’re closer to dying than you’ve ever been before.

Over and over, again and again you get smashed into nearby building. What are you supposed to do? Who should you call?

Satoru?

Your heart tightens in an instant. Would he be sad if you die right here and now? Probably not. After all that would mean that he’s free, that he’s able to live his life unchained with a girl he can choose himself.

Lucky Gojo.

Your eyes dart towards the frightening creature that starts building itself up in font of your eyes again. You were able to evacuate all the innocent people out of this curtain along with the artefact this thing guarded. You did your job, right?

It wouldn’t be a shame if you die right here and now…right?

Another wave of venom darts towards you at neck breaking speed. Oh, your body feels so tired, your muscles sore from the countless times you tried to escape that monster already, your bones and joints begging you for a break.

A break would be okay, right? Giving up right here and now doesn’t hurt anyone…right?

You allow your eyes to flutter shut, your body to sink to the ground. Only a few seconds and it will be over. You did what you could, fought until the very end. Maybe Gojo or Suguru will be able to defeat this curse.

“(y/n), what the hell are you doing? Get out of the way?”

It happens faster than your eyes nap back open again. From one millisecond to the other, you find yourself devoured in Gojo Satoru’s arms while dashing through the bloody red sky.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind, (y/n)!? You could have died right there on the spot!”, he screams on top of his lungs, eyes glowing in a dreadful blue you’ve never seen before.

“I-…I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? You could be dead by now, nothing but a puddle of blood. You…are you insane!?”

“I finished my mission. That’s all that counts”, you reply automatically.

Oh, how much you hate that familiar sting of tears in your eyes, the way your throat starts aching all over again.

“You have to be fucking kidding me…Finished your mission!? What was your mission, killing yourself!?”

“Why do you even care?”, you suddenly cry out just as loud as him.

“It’s not like you give a damn about me!”

Your words hit him like a bullet straight to his heart. How much he hates to admit that you’re right, that he can’t blame you for feeling this way. After all, it was him who treated you like trash for your whole life, who pretended to not give a damn about you. From your point of view, there really is no reason for him to care.

Gojo stares at you, his breath ragged, his usual composure shattered as he hovers in the air with you cradled securely in his arms. For a moment, he can’t speak, his mind racing with everything he’s hidden, all the words he’s swallowed over the years. Finally, his eyes soften, and he looks at you with something so raw that it makes your heart ache.

“Why do I care?” he repeats, his voice quieter now, almost vulnerable.

“Because I’ve been an idiot, (y/n). A complete fool. I thought… I thought if I just kept my distance, if I acted like I didn’t care, maybe it would hurt less when I knew you’d never choose to be with someone like me.”

Your eyes widen, every ounce of bitterness and confusion momentarily fading as you take in his words. Is that really Gojo Satoru talking to you? The boy who ignored you since birth? Your fiancé who made it more than clear that he’ll never like you?

“You… what?”

He lets out a shaky laugh, looking away for a second as he tries to collect himself.

“I know it sounds crazy. I thought pushing you away would make it easier - for both of us. I thought if I made you hate me, then maybe you wouldn’t feel as trapped by this whole… engagement thing. I didn’t want you to think you were stuck with me.”

You blink, trying to wrap your mind around his words.

“So… all of this, the coldness, the insults… it was all to push me away?”

Gojo nods, his jaw clenched.

"Yeah. I wanted you to feel free. Free to be with whoever you wanted. Even if that meant I’d be out of the picture. I thought it would be better for you if I was the last person you’d ever want. And honestly, that whole marriage thing scared the crap out of me since I understood what it means…"

Your heart aches at the confession, and despite everything, you feel yourself softening. Softening for a little boy who was chained onto a woman he didn’t even know, a boy who didn’t even think about girls back then.

“But Satoru… that just hurt me even more. I thought you couldn’t stand me. All these years, you made it clear for everyone to see.”

He closes his eyes, guilt clear on his face.

“I know. I realize now how much I messed up. But I didn’t know how else to keep myself from… from caring too much. From wanting more than I should, more than I can afford.”

He opens his eyes, and there’s a depth in his gaze that makes your breath catch.

“Because the truth is, (y/n), I do care. I’ve always cared. Way more than I ever wanted to admit.”

You stare at him, heart pounding as his words sink in.

"Satoru… why didn’t you just tell me? Why didn’t we just talk this through?"

“Because I didn’t think I was what you deserved,” he admits, voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re kind, patient, brilliant… and me? I’m reckless, arrogant, and stubborn. I figured if I stayed away, maybe you’d find someone better.”

He sighs, looking down with a faint, almost self-deprecating smile.

"But even then, I couldn’t stay away, could I? The moment I thought you were in danger, I-" He trails off, shaking his head.

"I would’ve torn that curse apart with my bare hands if it meant keeping you safe."

You swallow, unable to keep the tears from welling up as you finally see the truth he’s tried to hide for so long.

“All this time, I thought… I thought you hated me.”

Gojo’s gaze softens, and he gently wipes a tear from your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“I was an idiot,” he murmurs, his voice breaking a little.

“I was so wrapped up in my own fears that I hurt the one person I actually wanted to be close to. And I’m so, so sorry, (y/n). I’ve been a fool. You deserved so much better than how I treated you.”

He pauses, and there’s a softness in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, like he’s finally allowing himself to be vulnerable with you.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he says, voice thick with emotion.

“But I need you to know… I don’t want to keep pretending anymore. I don’t want to keep pushing you away. I just want… I just want to be by your side, if you’ll let me.”

A warmth spreads through you, his words slowly melting the hurt he caused. Despite everything, you feel something rekindling between you, a glimmer of hope that maybe things could be different. And maybe, just maybe, Gojo Satoru will be a good friend in the future.

“You’ve been a fool, Satoru. And honestly, I can’t forgive you more than 16 years of constant pain over a few words. You…You need to prove it.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, smiling a little as he looks at you with a fondness he no longer bothers to hide.

“I can finally start making up for it.”

-12 years later-

The training field buzzes with the usual sounds of Jujutsu High’s students sparring and practicing, but today, there’s an extra spark of excitement in the air. Rumors had spread that Gojo’s wife, the famous sorcerer he’d somehow managed to marry, was stopping by for a visit.

Nobara, and Yuji exchange glances, all curious and maybe a little nervous. After all, they’d seen Gojo in action before: cold, powerful, a little too confident for his own good. What kind of person could possibly keep up with him? They wait, watching the gates eagerly, until finally, a familiar figure strides onto the training field, radiating warmth and energy.

“Can y’all stop acting so ridiculous? It’s only (y/n)”, Megumi murmurs in sheer confusion.

“Only the (y/n)!?”, Nobara shrieks.

“Watch your mouth, sea urchin!”, Gojo replies so frustrated that Megumi can’t help but roll his eyes.

What is he fussing about? It’s not like he sees you every single day. As his wife, you’re basically always around if it isn’t for a mission.

“(Y/N)!” Gojo shouts, waving both arms in the air like an excited kid when finally seeing you walk through the gate.

His grin is wide, almost blinding, and it only grows wider as he rushes toward you. You can’t help but laugh, stepping into his embrace as he pulls you close.

“Right on time, huh?” you tease, letting the affection seep into your tone as you look up at him, the playful glint in your eyes unmistakable.

“Of course! How could I not be excited when my beautiful wife is here?” he responds, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, a mix of adoration and mischief in his eyes.

Nobara leans in closer to Yuji, whispering,

“Is he always like this?”

Yuji nods enthusiastically, grinning.

“Yep! He’s totally whipped!”

Megumi rolls his eyes, but even he can’t hide the hint of a smile at his friend’s antics.

“I can’t believe he used to treat her like trash,” he mutters, crossing his arms.

“HE WHAT!?”

You catch that last bit and can’t help but smirk, turning back to Gojo.

“Remember when you thought being a jerk was the way to go because our marriage was arranged? And now you’re treating me like a princess in front of your students? I’d love to show that mini Satoru.”

Gojo feigns innocence, placing a hand dramatically over his heart.

“I was just preparing you for the royal treatment! Didn’t want to spoil you too much right away.”

You shake your head, chuckling as you poke him in the side.

“Oh, please. You had a lot of catching up to do after your earlier mistakes.”

“Hey! I was young and foolish! I’ve learned since then!” he retorts, laughter dancing in his eyes while he pulls you even closer towards him.

“And now I’m the luckiest guy in the world!”

“You’ve always been the luckiest guy in the world with (y/n) being promised to you”, Megumi comments dryly.

The students watch the playful banter, caught somewhere between awe and amusement as you continue to tease Gojo about his past shitty behaviour, his eyes never leaving your mesmerizing gaze.

“Just remember, Satoru,” you say, leaning in conspiratorially, “you’ll never live down how badly you treated me. I’ll be sure to remind you every chance I get until the day you die.”

Gojo laughs, his blue eyes sparkling with joy and affection.

“Bring it on, I’ll just keep proving to you how much you mean to me!”

And with that, he presses his lips against yours. Longingly, with that passion that sweeps you off your feet over and over again. Just a few years ago, you didn’t even allow yourself of thinking about kissing that man, let alone lying in his arms for something apart from fighting. He’s not only your husband, but he loves you. Gojo Satoru adores you with all his heart and you simply can’t get enough of this, enough of him.

“Gosh, that’s kinda gross”, Nobara mutters under her breath.

“Watch out young lady. Who knows if you’ll get married to your pink-haired friend here sooner or later? Arranged marriages are common in the jujutsu sorcerer society. Trust me, been there, done that-”

“ME AND THAT GUY!? NEVER!”

“Hey, there’s no need to sound so disgusted. I’m sure I’ll be a great husband…”

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eveningepiphany · 5 months ago

Text

need | h.s oneshot

summary: the two elite enemies of St Jacklyn college finally cave against the mass amounts of sexual tension they’ve shared… at a campus sleepover of all things.

warnings: SMUT, hot and heavy, enemies with impulsive benefits, dirty talk, fingering (fem rec), piv sex, classic supply closet sex!!

a/n: after being gone for a little while (basically M.I.A let’s be fr) I wanted to post a little smutshot🤍

———

At college, things happen, and they happen fast.

One minute you’ll be doing homework, and the next you’ll be at a party after a spontaneous invite.

Or you’ll plan for a night with friends but find yourself hooking up with a campus stranger.

It’s the way of life, you’re either going from one extreme to the other, or you’re not really in college.

And that’s exactly what’s currently about to happen to you again. It’s about to be zero to a hundred with you and one of the worst people to walk St Jacklyn halls.

It had started out as you both being out on a walk for fresh air, somehow at the same time. Which turned into a run in as it always does with the two of you— Harry Styles, the colleges token ‘golden’ boy immediately tutting out, “well well, look who else has snuck out for a walk around the halls.”

“How unfortunate our walks have coincided.” You had drawled at him, shaking your head as your feet clacked against the smooth stone flooring.

He had morphed a solo stroll into a joint one, because now he trailed by your side as you wandered the schools dim corridors, “don’t sound so upset, I know y’truly excited by the prospect.”

“Harry, can you fuck off?” Originally, this walk was purposed to clear your muddled head.

One of your ex-friends, Belle, had come up to you in the library— which was turned into a sleeping quarters— with a snide expression written all over her face. She was imploring that in around 2 hours, you check the St Jacklyn gossip page.

It sounds fickle, because it is fickle. The site is dedicated to the drama that goes on at the huge school. And you had been on the front page more than you would’ve liked lately, especially after your fall out with Belle.

“Why would I want to do that…? Plus, I’ve heard word that a story is bubbling about you.” He supplies, and your gaze slants over to him.

His long untamed hair is set free over his shoulders, and his green eyes were already trained on yours.

A sigh breaches through your mouth, the news coming from him is as unfortunate as being murdered before a month long holiday in the tropics. Because if he knows about it, then it just means Belle is telling everyone.

“Do you happen to know what it’s about too?” You ask, half prepared for him to avoid the question.

Which good thing you were expecting it, because that’s just what he did, “She’s being rather venomous. I really didn’t think she’d find footing after what she did to you. Shes much like…” he pauses in thought, brows furrowed as he files through his mind, “like a pest you can’t quite catch.”

“A pest.” You repeat in agreement, the first time you’ve ever sided with him on a statement, despite it being a backhanded dig at the fact you can’t seem to sort it out once and for all.

“Indeed, dove. And from what i know, the news that’s going up is nothing good.” He smirks, hands coming to clasp behind his back.

“Ah, bad news about me on St Jacklyns gossip page. Something you would know nothing about, of course.” You sneer at him, a reminder that you have neither forgiven or forgotten.

“All is fair in love and war, darling.” He justifies with a shrug, “you can’t claim to be a saint either.”

“Never did.” A scoff pasted your lips, “however you cant claim you didn’t start it.”

He overlaps you with his steps, now walking backwards in front of you, his eyes trailing up and down your body, “Just as bitter as ever…”

“Of course I’m bitter.” You spat out, flaring your hands out in quickly bubbling anger.

“You’re acting as if you weren’t the one to tell the blog I was sleeping with Sherman! Which was a fucking lie!”

“And like you didn’t egg my house after it.” He fires back.

“You stole my cat and dyed him green.”

“Well, y’shouldnt let your cat outside.”

“You’re a horrible person.”

“And you know what, Y/N, I think you are too.” He smiles, as though he’s proud of you.

“God.” You frustratedly huff out, stopping all together.

He smirks, coming to a halt as well, “Not my name, but I can appreciate the confusion.”

He steps forward into your space, lips curling upward, something mischievous sparkling in his green gaze.

“You are unbelievable.” You shake your head, face contorting with disgust. Trying to ignore his muscles that are popping as he crosses hims arms over his chest.

“Oh, but I have a feeling you love it.” He coos.

“I hate you, Harry.” You grit out, mimicking his stance— turning the sight of the two of you into the likes of a stand off.

“Mmm, you do?” A low hum comes from his throat, licking his lips as he looks at you.

“Harder than you’d ever be able to fathom.” You almost stutter out, mind fumbling as you’re sure he is mapping out some kind of move he’s about to make on you.

Things around here imitate a game of chess, every play as calculated as the next.

He is smiling at your constant digs of his character. You’re so this, you’re so that, you’d kept saying to him. Finding the most offensive describing words you could.

“So unbelievable that if I kissed you right now, you’d be shocked?”

You scowl at him, “not that I think you’d have the balls, but yes, I likely would be.”

“Is that a challenge?” He further perks up at your quip.

You have doubts he’d ever follow through, because you nod, with a cock of your brow. And oh how you were wrong about that. You should’ve known with the way he was eyeing you off like a meal.

He leans forward into your space, fast like the wind, yet his kiss like a breeze. Quick and gentle, and his point proven with a smug smirk being felt against your mouth hardly a second before he pulls away.

You— however shocked and slightly appalled that the enemies mouth just touched yours— are frozen to the spot.

He soaks in the look of surprise on your features, and a part of him tingles with the thrill of kissing someone who he knows could try and ruin his life. Just as you had countless times before.

An adrenaline rush spiked in him, along with something else, something stronger that he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Want your own challenge?” he suggests, derailing from his original plan. He doesn’t wait for an indication of an answer from yourself.

“You wouldn’t dare admit that you enjoyed that.” He muses.

“I didn’t.” You try to force confidence in your voice, certainty. But you’re only sounding defensive, just like a liar.

His words kick you into gear, and you shove his shoulder with the flat of your hand— yet it hardly budges his firm figure in the dim hallway.

“Should we try again?” The direction of the wind had changed, clearly. His voice a low constant hum, leaning forward again, hands brushing gingerly against your waist.

You swear the warm lights upon the walls flicker as though they were a flame being licked by the shift in the air around you.

“No.” You scoff, hands grabbing his wrists where they hung loosely on your hipbone— you’re tempted by his scent, but cautious of his habitual lying.

A wrong move and he will use it against you.

“And why not?” He says, and you choose your next words carefully.

“Because. You have to admit it first.” You state, deciding not to entirely close off the idea of kissing him again, but atleast removing an aspect of vulnerability from it.

“I’ll show you,” he pulls your body further into his, nose nudging against your own. It pushes your face up so your mouth is more accessible to his.

You’re suddenly flushing at the action, this was too far to prove a point— even for you— you decided.

He feels you squirm, “Do you not want me to kiss you? Or are you just nervous around me.”

“Don’t be conceited…” you scowl against his cheek, “you still repulse me.”

His throat makes a deep sound, and he grazes over your mouth. A tease, he does it again, and again.

The heat of his mouth is brushing yours in a torturous cycle— one that doesn’t seem to be ending on his terms. A soft pass of his lower lip, and you’re eager for more, but he pulls away just a fraction. All you can feel is the hot air passing through his parted lips. He doesn’t give in.

“I wouldn’t make you do something you didn’t want t’do…” His voice is no more than a whisper. It is truth as much as it is a trap. He’s instating that if you make the next move, you want this.

Everything is in the fine print around here.

You can feel him talking almost against your mouth, the small vibration of every syllable that passes through his lips. It’s tempting beyond belief, beginning to forge a sense of desperation in your body that not even you can condone.

His plan is working to a tea. You hate him so much for it.

He brushes his hands over you, heat radiating from his body. But not pushing into your mouth, just lingering.

Not making a move until you cave against him first.

He somehow knows you like the back of his hand, because you couldn’t resist pushing back into his mouth after all that. Despite the alarm bells absolutely blaring in your head, you went against them completely.

Three minutes of teasing was practically all it was, but it was enough to leave the hairs on your body standing up, and your lungs panting for air.

Enemies spend so much time carving stakes to throw at each other, that along the way they find out more about one another than anyone else. Idiosyncrasies that you somehow learn from warfare, has now stemmed into to being used with the art of… romance or whatever you call it.

Probably not romance— actually not at all romance— but whatever this is.

You know it’s true because right now, your hands are itching to pull his hair. You know he’s into it, since a whole post got aired out about it and you tried to use it against him hardly a few months ago.

He only played it off with a smirk, and an offer to see just how riled up it got him.

Just as now he bites at your lip, a thing he worked out of you when you were absolutely trashed at Belle’s end of semester party.

Something he cant lie he’s been craving to do since he found out.

This kiss goes from teasing and something that’s merely testing boundaries to an entirely fueled makeout session.

There was no room for words suddenly, except muttered curses being shared between the two of you.

Both of you are moving in sync, stepping backwards until his hands fumble with the door of a conveniently placed supply closet.

Your mind is whirling as he guides you into the even darker room. Hardly lit, it made everything feel like you were imagining it. Only outlines are visible, thanks to the thin warm rays of light snaking their way through the gap in the door.

Christ, he is tugging you hard against him, and you want it… his hands skating over your hips and dipping teasingly down to your ass are hardly helping your case.

Finally you get something out of your mouth, “fuck— is this still a part of your stupid agenda? Or do you actually want something?

He grabs your wrist, suddenly guiding it down to a place you can feel just how much he wants something.

You bite down hard on your lip to contain the gasp that almost slipped out as you feel the bulge he’s sporting beneath his jeans, “feel that, baby?”

Fuck… this is going to completely fuck you over. You need him? It hits you like a tonne of bricks, and also straight between your own legs.

A whine exits your mouth quicker than you can hold it back, and you wish for an ounce of shame that Harry just heard that. But you can’t seem to find it.

And infact, he revels in the noise, that high pitched sound of need that comes from you. It fuels him, because he wants to hear more of it.

Neither of you are thinking about circumstances right now. All you can feel is the intense sense of desire.

At least for yourself, the idea of finding a way to royally fuck Harry over is on the back burner.

You remind yourself this is just how college is. Things happen, and that’s fine…

Well, thats how you’re justifying right now. Because in reality, you don’t have a lot else to vouch for yourself with.

Overall, you’re stricken of breath from your actions, both figuratively and literally.

The way Harry’s lips are melded to yours, hot and smooth— kissing your mouth with such keen intent, anyone from the outside would think the situation laid on completely different grounds to the reality.

His body is moving insatiably against yours now, like you’re two people who have been longtime acquaintances or friends that have finally managed to make a move.

His hands skate the skin of your back with fervour, as though you both were strangers that really hit it off at an event.

But you still think those circumstances wouldn’t feel nearly as good as this one did. The hatred that flooded you everytime he was around fuelled you all the same.

Your hand is still placed over his bulge, cupping it as you both half devour each other. It’s hot to know you’re currently placed over his most vulnerable spot, and the fact he’s allowing it.

Especially when there’s enough history to warrant a punch to the groin.

It’s a reminder to how horrid an idea this technically is. That you’re fraternising with the worst person you possibly could.

You pant against him, spitting out a much needed reality check, “Fuck— I still hate you.”

He is your enemy. Your adversary. Your opponent. Not friend, only foe. Yet you’ve landed yourself in this supply closet with him. At your college. While half of your grade level is mingling downstairs.

You can’t tell if you regret picking a college that does so many random community activities. Such as a college sleepout, camping on campus as they’d deemed it.

It was set to strengthen connections with peers and mesh with those you haven’t before upon a familiar location.

And oh, are you meshing with someone you don’t usually…

“Hate me, hm?” He hums against the skin of your throat, baring his teeth and grazing them against it. Evoking a shudder from you at the sensation, which zipped down your spine and furthering the pool of warmth that gathered at the peak of your thighs.

Your hands tightened as they clutched his waist, nails scratching against the muscled flesh as you searched for a response.

“You’re an ass, Harry, I cant forget that even with your tongue in my mouth. And…” He licked a stripe up your neck, drawing back to meet your eye level as you spoke. Suddenly words weren’t coming out again.

“And?” He prompts, “Can’t forget tha’ even when im making you feel this good? When im getting you this worked up? And, probably when you know im able to give you the best orgasm of your life.”

You shoved his chest, yet balling his shirt up so you could immediately pull him closer against you. The idea of going further made you flushed, despite that being the only way everything is headed with the make out session you just had.

But it’s hard to miss the way it’s exactly what your body is rioting for. Not to mention the way his gorgeous and pouty face that’s hardly visible in this light works you up even more.

“Just… shut your mouth. Keep it closed.” You pleaded, letting your hands slide underneath his shirt and scratch against his taut muscles. A part of you longing to see the tattoos hidden beneath.

“How would I do this, then?” He guided his lips back against yours and licked into your mouth. His skilful tongue made you weak against him, the way it swirled around your own.

The exchange almost made your knees buckle where you stood pressed up against the door. Hands wringing against the oddly soft skin of his back, his mouth tasting of mint.

Every part of him was unfairly perfect, down to the way he tasted— which made you almost drool it was that good. But regardless, it’s messed up he’s allowed to walk around being so flawless.

Well, physically flawless anyway… given what flaws he lacks in that department, he makes up for with his subpar personality.

As his warm mouth moves against yours, your hands dipped back down to where his belt laid, toying with the buckle.

He drew his mouth back, yet pushing his thigh forward— slotting it between your legs with a satisfied hum. “Pretty thing, pullin’ on m’belt like you’re desperate for something.”

His words made you shudder, and you know he’s trying to ease you into some kind of submission. And you hate the way it would probably work.

“Desperate? Coming from the one who is already pushing his cock into my hand through his jeans.” The scoff he let out gave you a rush of satisfaction.

Although he didnt verbally retaliate, a hand tucked into your hair and pulled your head back. Exposing your neck so he could suck a harsh mark into it.

“Y’all talk, darling…” he whispers, letting your hair go and slipping his fingers nimbly under your fitted shirt.

His hand is pressed into your breast firmly over the top of your bra, held down by the tight fabric of your top.

It renders you senseless, the feeling of his warm palm atop your skin. Hand held over the heart you swore a million times he wanted to rip out of your chest.

Your own fingertips glide along his arm, feeling the soft hair dusting them, and coming to instinctually clutch his bicep.

There was both fear and arousal pumping through you, it was a sick and twisted adrenaline high that pushed you further into his game.

You unconsciously ground yourself against the thigh his had worked its way between your legs, a whimper slipping out as he gently squeezed your tit.

His name slipped from your mouth, sounding like a desperate plea.

“Y/N, baby.” He mocks almost, “just tell me what you need.”

It’s a shame you didn’t have the strength to even hesitate, “You.”

A satisfied hum from his throat embarrassed you, yet not enough to stop grinding down onto his jean-covered thigh.

His hand retracts from where it was inside your top, and disappears south. Fingers dipping below the fabric of your leggings, and touching over your core like it was nothing.

Your legs nearly gave out as his fingers drew over your fabric covered clit. A noise rattling in your chest as he adds a hint of pressure.

It feels heavenly even over a layer of fabric. Nails were now dug into the flesh of his arm, and your brain starting racing even faster than your heart.

Need, need, need.

That’s the only chorus you could hear in you head, you needed to feel his fingers press inside of you. You would even resort to begging if it came to it.

“Everyone always acts like you’re such a good girl, dove.” He shakes his head, already foreshadowing his disagreement with his tone.

He delivers a flick of your clit, “but you’re not really. Not at all.”

The dampness of your panties could almost make him moan aloud, but he holds himself back, continuing his little speech.

“If only they could see how wet your pussy’s gotten for me. Just how badly you want something from me.”

“Shut up.” You wish it held even a hint of venom, but it was yet another plead to him.

He leans forwards and captures your lips in a short but searing kiss, licking into your mouth for hardly a second before retracting.

“Want my fingers inside of you?” He asks, ignoring your previous complaint.

The idea sounds like a fucking dream right now, and you nod feverishly despite him hardly being able to see it.

“Yes, just do it, please.”

He waits hardly much longer before pushing your soaked underwear aside, allowing his middle finger to slip through your wet centre.

The sensation of the first contact skin-to-skin releases a full body shudder from you, and then furthers into a groan as he eases into your soaked hole.

He wastes no time curving it upward, eager to hear your moans. There’s no resistance as he touches you, you melt into him.

“Fucks sake,” he curses as you rut into his palm, craving the friction of it against your clit.

“So keen to grind yourself all over my hand, huh? Who would’ve thought I’d have you in here tonight, making a mess on my fingers.”

His voice is idilic as it enters your euphoric mind, even though his words are a dig at you, you can help but be turned on even more by it.

“Please…” you whine, although you’re not even sure what it is you’re begging for.

He starts to move his hand faster, there’s a level of skill behind it, he knows what he’s doing.

The pressure of his upper palm against your clit, and the circles he’s rubbing inside of you. Pressing at a sweet spot that’s making you drip.

It’s not long before you can hear how wet you are, hardly masked by the moans flying from your mouth.

“Already going to come?” He chuckles, kissing at your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck— Harry…”

He pushes in a second finger, making your back arch in pleasure. Christ, it felt so fucking good.

You are so unbelievably wet, and in the back of your mind you can’t believe he’s got you in a state like this.

Palms fisting at his shirt, pulling him as close as you can get. He can tell you’re starting to unravel between him.

Your hole is pulsing in response to his fast and firm hands, and profanities flying from your lips.

“Cmon, show me how much you hate me, Y/N.”

“I hate you!” You cry, and the feeling of your impending orgasm is taking over your whole body. It’s burning in your stomach, aching in your chest.

His fingers somehow curl faster inside of you, and finally make you snap.

A cry falls from your mouth and your hips jerk harshly against him.

“Ride it out, good girl…” he coos to you, and your head is spinning.

Somehow, as you come down from your high, it was not enough.

“More, Harry.”

A silence envelops you both for a second, “what?”

“Need you inside of me.”

When he doesn’t move to action your request, you start fumbling to unbuckle his belt.

“Woah, slow down baby. Think for a second, gotta let you settle first.” His tone translates as unsure in your mind.

“Do you not want to?” You frown at him, “Just say that, im not going to be—

“No.” He immediately interjects, “not sayin’ that at all dove, just want you to clear y’head for a second.”

His hand has slipped out of your leggings, and his reminder makes you take a deep breath. It was almost sweet, even though it was the bare minimum.

“I’m fine.” You sigh, “thank you, though.”

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?”

You’re surprised he has any decency at all in that regard.

“I know…” your hands have now slid his belt off him, “but I want you to fuck me, like fuck me absolutely stupid.”

“God, Y/N.” He rasps, “trying to be so gentle with you right now, an’ y’just want to be filled with my cock.”

“I do, so help me take these off.” You work to slide his jeans down.

There’s a fumble with eachothers clothing that quickly follows, all the sudden shirts are being torn off and pants shucked down from eachothers legs.

Thrown in random directions to be dealt with a later time, because right now all the can be felt is the desire.

“I’ve got a condom.”

“Why the fuck do you have a condom at a school camp out?” You scoffed, but typical of Harry to cart around a condom ‘just incase’.

“Ah well, yknow. Prepared for any occasion.”

You rolled your eyes, hands pressed on his chest, “God you have a way of making a girl feel special.”

“Darling, if you’re worried about that let me show you.” He runs his fingers down your body, lingering on the low of your belly.

“I shouldn’t be so surprised, I know better than anyone you’re one of St Jacklyn’s biggest man whores.”

“Not a man whore, just have an appreciation for a woman’s beauty.”

You lean in to kiss at his jaw, “I’ll pretend that’s not a bit objectifying.”

He groans, subconsciously cocking his head back so you have more room to peck at, “you’re impossible to please.”

“You haven’t tried that hard yet.” You sing, swinging the topic back to its original starting point.

“Oh yea?” He grips at your waist, tearing the condom he pulled from god knows where and moving his briefs down his thighs so he can roll it down his length.

He quickly pushes you back, so your body is pressed into the wall again, and a heat envelopes your body all over again.

His hands are now toying with your underwear, his lips back over yours as he teases you all over again.

You can feel his cock pressed against your thigh, and although there’s hardly enough light to get a good look, you can tell he’s big. Perfectly equipped, if you will.

Your hand finds its way to wrap around him, wishing for a second he wasn’t covered with a condom so you could really feel him.

Nevertheless, you give him a slow and steady stroke, taking great pride in the pleasure-filled sigh that gets drawn from his lungs.

“Fuck Y/N…”

“Look who’s whining now, good boy.”

He doesn’t even have the mental resolve to quip back at you, he simply cranes into your touch, mouthing at your chest absentmindedly.

“You’re gonna make m’come before im even inside of you. C’mere.”

He tugs your underwear down all the way, letting you step out of it. Wasting no time sliding his hand around the back of your thigh, lifting it up around his waist.

Your hands run over his shirtless frame, palming at the taut abs he has, trying not to salivate.

“You tell me if you want to stop or change something, alright?”

You nod, but it wasn’t enough for him, “need an answer, darling.”

“Yes, thank you.” Your answer was sighed, a flutter of your eyelids as he presses his cock against your clit.

You whine as he runs his tip through your slit, coating himself in your pooled arousal, his breathing heavy.

He takes his time here, teasing you, pushing into you just enough to have you clenching around him yet still leave you begging him for more.

“Harry, Harry please.”

He knew exactly how to work you so he got this. The begging and pleading to be filled up with him.

“Tell me what y’want.” His voice is raspy, yet drips with honey.

“You.”

He tuts, flicking your sensitive clit, “need more detail than that.”

“Want… fuck.” You roll your hips against him, “want you to fuck me so deep, please. Need to feel you all the way inside of me.”

There was no shame for you right now, all you could focus on was the pulsing need deep in your core, aching to be stretched out by him.

“That’s it dove,” he finally pushes in, moaning in sync with you.

“Fuck, you feel so nice around me.”

Your hole is already clenching around his length, your hips mindlessly grinding down into him. Pulling him in deeper until he’s hitting all the perfect spots.

He groans at your needy rutting against him, making him start to pump inside of you, hardly taking a slow start.

You feel your brain nearly switch off, all but the part that’s associated with him. His scent, his touch, all the history that you’re seemingly fucking out right now.

“Need you to go harder.” You cry, making him almost chuckle.

“What a wonderful thing t’hear from you. That you, the girl who fucking hates me wants me to fuck her senseless.” His statement is panted out, and usually you’d say something snarky back, but right now none of that crosses your mind.

“Please, want you to ruin me…”

Right now that is all you want, to be completely ruined.

He doesn’t take your request light heartedly, he ruts into you with deep and fast strokes. Hand coming to where your clit is, toying with it at the same pace.

He mutters dirty words into your ear as he keeps going, winding you up even when you didn’t think you could anymore.

“Cmon baby, show me how you let go around me.” He pushes, grabbing at the back of your head, lacing his hands into your hair.

He tugs your lips against his, and your moaning against him still, mouth wide open.

His name falls from your tongue like a mantra, over and over again until you’re nearly collapsed. He has to hold you up when you start to come, your knees completely cave in.

“Oh my— oh my god!” Your whole body rocks against his hold, his cock hitting places inside of you that you didn’t even know you had.

“Don’t stop, please don’t..” you feel the second he starts to unravel with you, his thrusts lapse in pace and all the sudden his breath stutters.

“Oh fuck, Y/N!” He grunts and falls into you as, “why didn’t we do this earlier, fuckin’ hell.”

His cock twitches inside of you, and both of you are stricken of air, lightheaded but filled with so much pleasure.

“That was so good, Harry…” you kiss at his neck, and his breath passes out as a chuckle.

“Still hate my guts though?” He laughs.

Your palms run down his back, relaxing as he slides out of you, “Mhmm, a good fuck isn’t gonna change that.”

“Atleast you can admit im good in bed.” He teases.

“Technically we’re not in a bed, so not sure if that point stands.”

“Just had you crying out my name as you come around my dick n’ you’re already back to mouthing me off.”

“Mouthing you off, huh?”

He snorts, “right, you dirty thing.”

“Can mouth you off if you beg for it.”

“Already want a round two with me, isn’t that saying something.” He stares at you, lips curling into a smile.

“You made me finish twice, seems only fair.” You suggest.

And suddenly, you realised you’ve gotten into a very dangerous spiral with a very dangerous player in your game.

Only time will tell…

———

a/n: I have hardly edited this but I really really just wanted to post again, I hope it’s okay and the writing isn’t too rusty lol

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #fanfic #prompts #reader insert #harry styles x you #harry styles writing #harry styles smutshot #smut #enemies to lovers #enemies with benefits #college au

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star-girl-05 · 6 months ago

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Green or Red

James Wilson x Reader

~★~��︎~✦~

“I’ve been Wilson's best friend for years, I’ve outlasted countless of Wilson's wives and girlfriends. Do you really think someone that's not even sleeping with him has more of a say then me” House wasn’t wrong he has known Wilson longer than you but Wilson was a known simp so you still had a chance.

“Why don’t you put your money where your mouth is then”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Hmmm.. Oh I know we’ll see who can get Wilson to wear a certain coloured tie.”

“Really that’s what you want” You just nod your head, feeling more confident by the second. “Fine, twenty bucks I can get Wilson to wear a red tie”

“Make it thirty and you have deal” House laughed agreeing to your terms

“What colour are you going for?” He asked as you started to head for the door.

“Green”

“James just the guy I was looking for” You intercepted him on his way to the clinic.

“Really what can I help you with ?”

“Well I just wanted to say you look quite dapper today, you look lovely in this blue tie but I think green would look even better” you weren't being subtle at all but you desperately wanted to win this bet.

A blush coated his cheeks in an adorable boy scout way, “Thanks” he fiddles with the end of his tie, “You look lovely today as well.” You smile at the compliment, Wilson is always the sweetest.

“I’ll see you later then” you give him a small wave before walking away.

~~~ House ~~~

“New tie?” House calls out as he pushes his way into the lunch line, forcing Wilson to pay for his meal.

“You're the second one to mention it,” Wilson mumbles as he walks over to a table.

“Not surprised since it's such an eye-sore” House was taking a completely different route than you. Instead of complimenting Wilson he was going to shit on his tie and then suggest a red tie.

“What are you talking about? Y/n just complimented me on it” Wilson is not sure if House is messing with him or if he’s being truthful. He’s more inclined to believe that House is full of shit due to the fact you had no reason to lie to him, but neither does House.

“I’m sure she did” he took an obnoxious large bite of his food, punctuating his sentence. House should have known you would get to Wilson first but not to worry he can convince him otherwise.

“Care to elaborate or are you going to continue to beat around the bush?”

“Y/n lied about your tie being nice because she wants you to look bad at work, because she has a huge crush on you and wants you to look bad so no one else flirts with you. I mean come on your like catnip for the nurses,” Houses says in between bites of food.

Wilson had no idea what to say, did you really have a crush on him, and did this tie look good or bad on him. “I can’t follow you today, and I have no idea why everyone is so obsessed with my tie”

“I’m not obsessed, just thought as your friend you’d like to know you’d look better in a red tie.” He shrugged his shoulders grabbing some fries off Wilsons tray before walking away.

Wilson Knew something was going on between House and You there's just no way both of you coincidently mentioned his tie. Honestly he’s not sure he wants to know. Though when he bumps into you he can’t help but try to pry some hints out of you.

“Hey y/n I was talking to house and he told me something interesting”

“Really what did he say?”

“He was talking about my tie”

“Oh, well I wouldn’t take fashion advice from him, have you seen the way he dresses?” You add a little chuckle.

“He was just saying the same thing about you”, of course he was.

So this weird thing you have going on with House is about his tie.

“That’s a fun coincidence, anywho I better get going but I’ll see you tonight”

“Tonight?” He has absolutely no idea what you're talking about.

“Yeah I’m going to let you take me out on a date”, This may be playing dirty but you were not going to let house win. The stakes are not high but if he wins he’ll constantly hold it over your head. Not that you were only going on a date with Wilson because of this bet. You did really like him but you were planning on making him work a little for it, but you're glad to go on a date with him a little earlier than you originally planned.

~~~~

“Wilson was just telling me about your little date tonight” you knew when House heard about your date with Wilson he would come to tease you about it. “Honestly I’m surprised that you're willing to sleep with him for a messily thirty bucks.”

“I’m not going to sleep with him for a bet”

“I’m not judging, I'm just impressed”

“That’s worse” you call after him, he’s already walking away “I don’t want your approval” but he’s already gone.

~~Later that night~~

After your date with Wilson you did end up going back to his house, and the two of you did end up sleeping together. What can you say? He's very charming.

When you were getting dressed that morning you couldn’t help but smile when he pulled out a green tie. You’ll buy him lunch with your new thirty bucks.

#dr james wilson x reader #james wilson #james wilson fanfic #james wilson imagine #james wilson x reader #james wilson fanfiction #dr james wilson #dr james wilson fanfic #dr james wilson fanfiction #dr james wilson imagine #house fandom #house imagine #house fanfic #house fanfiction #house md #house md fanfic #house md fanfiction #house md imagine

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izukumidoriyanumber1 · 8 days ago

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Alastor With A Seemingly Innocent S/O

-He wonders how the fuck you’re in hell

-like, someone as perfect and sweet and kind as you? No chance.

-until you tell him how you brutally murdered a huntsman and hand to hand strangled his three dogs after killing your boyfriend.

-coincidence? I think not.

-Alastor knew this story sounded awfully familiar but couldn’t quite place what it was he remembered about it.

-anyways

-Alastor would try to change how he acts, especially around you.

-so no killing or maiming when his s/o is around.

-the only time your not your sweet, innocent little self is when Angel Dust drags you into a terf war or something.

-then hes laughing and cheering you on from the sidelines.

-As you know, Alastor loves to dance and sing.

-so expect him to turn on some swing jazz and quite literally sweep you off your feet in the middle of the lobby.

-lots of spinning, dipping, and side stepping.

-he’ll also sing along to whatever is playing, too.

-if its a slow song, expect to be held close to him as one of his hands clasps tightly to yours and your chest is pressed against his.

-his other hand will wrap around your waist as he hums along in your ear.

-but this kind of dancing normally only takes place behind closed doors and within the comfort of your shared room.

-speaking of rooms, he would love it if you’d stay with him at night.

-he doesn’t sleep a whole lot, so make sure he gets the well deserved rest he needs.

-he’ll hold you close while petting your hair or running his hands up and down your arms to help you fall asleep.

-in the most non-creepy way possible, he loves to watch you sleep.

-he finds it so wholesome and heart warming that you choose to lay next to him every night.

-Alastor has never been a huge fan of sex, but when its you, he can’t help himself.

-especially when he’s in a rut. He almost always cant keep his hands off of you.

-as much as he cant, he loves to breed you

-he constantly praises your body and loves the bump that forms at the bottom of your tummy when he fills you up.

-saying things like “darling, you take me so well, gonna fill you up so nice” like AHHHHHHH

-aftercare is a given. He’s an old timer, he knows how to treat a woman.

-expect to be carried into the steamy bathtub as he crawls in next to you and scrubs you clean.

-pda is a little iffy with Alastor.

-he could either be all over you, a hand on your waist, shoulder, or arms linked 25/8

-OR he could have a no touching day (which you are completely understanding to)

-i think you would deny his request of proposal many times.

-maybe you are trying to redeem yourself and you dont want to hurt him if you do end up going to heaven.

-but either way, you ended up saying yes, and the wedding was held at the hotel with minimal guests.

-im sure he would invite rosie and mimzy, too.

-who both absolutely adore you

-rosie ends up being that of an older sister to you

-mimzy is just kinda…there.

-you dont like her very much.

-on top of it all, he loves you so very much and wont be afraid to show you just how much.

-he would do absolutely anything to have his way, and if someone (like Vox) were to get in his way, he’d make sure it wouldnt happen again.

message me for more <3

#alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x reader headcanons #innocent s/o #reader insert

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strangersteddierthings · 1 month ago

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Gut Instinct: Prologue

Here is the start of my fic for the @steddiebang2024! A HUGE thank you to my art, @calxeria, and my beta-reader, @zombiecreatures!!

[Art] [Ao3] [Prologue] [Chapter One]

On July 7th, 1985, Robin wakes up in Steve Harrington’s bed and begins to believe in the unbelievable, in the impossible. She's got a whole list.

The waking-up-in-Steve-Harrington's-bed would be the most unbelievable thing to ever happen to her, if not for the whole Russians-under-Starcourt, giant-flesh-monster, girl-who-can-throw-stuff-around-with-her-mind thing. So, second most unbelievable thing, because she’s going to count all of the aforementioned as one thing.

No, that's a lie. It's the third unbelievable thing. The second was before the giant-flesh-monster and girl-who-can-throw-things-around-with-her-mind, but after the Russians-under-Starcourt. In a bathroom. With Steve confessing his crush, and Robin confessing hers, but not for Steve. He didn't get it at first but then. Then his quietly spoken 'oh' morphed into a more excited 'oh! Me too!' and it was Robin's turn to be confused until he clarified: girls and boys.

Steve Harrington came out to her as bisexual while under the influence of Russian truth serum, or something, and that has to take second place.

Back to the third thing. She can’t lie, when Steve had first asked if she’d stay the night, she was wary. Yeah, they’d gone through hell together, but beyond surviving the worst days of their lives together, they didn’t exactly have a lot in common, and she'd really hate walking home alone if things were too weird.

Turns out, friendships are built on more than shared interests. Steve is bitchy in a fun way, hilarious, and so easy to talk to. They banter back and forth like they've known each other for years rather than weeks, a surprisingly easy transition from the (not-actually-very-friendly-at-the-time) teasing Robin had been giving him all summer at Scoops. They'd talked all night, sat on Steve's bed because the living room had felt too open, and Robin doesn't fully remember falling asleep the first time, but she does remember waking up from a nightmare and Steve was already assuring her she was safe, that he wouldn't let anything happen to her. He'd asked if it was okay for him to touch, and she'd launched herself across the bed and into the hug he offered. For a boy who had admitted to having a crush on her 72-hours ago, give or take, there was no romantic intent in the hug, and Robin fell asleep easily in his arms.

So, Robin wakes up in Steve Harrington’s bed but no longer in his arms because she's star-fished out on the center of the bed, half her limbs flung across his back because he'd rolled onto his stomach. She rolls off him and sits up to stretch and look at him. One arm is stuffed under the pillow, the other hanging off the bed with how close to the edge he is. His face isn't turned to her, but she can see a damp spot on the pillow. She's willing to bet good money that Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington drools in his sleep.

Then, the fourth most unbelievable thing happened - not that she realized at the time that it was going to make the Unbelievable But True list – as, for the first time, she witnessed Steve predict the future. Or something like it.

He rolled over, still asleep, and said, 'Dustin'll be here soon.'

It's been just a few days since Starcourt and Dustin was, as far as she could tell, Steve's best friend. It made sense he would show up and check in. The slightly freaky part was that she had assumed Steve was awake, but he was not. When he did wake up, he had no recollection of having said anything, but Dustin did try to crash through door about twenty minutes later.

Which, sure, Robin could choose to believe was an educated guess of Steve's subconscious. But then, the coincidences didn't end.

Over the summer, she witnesses him not once, not twice, but a whopping eight times buy a winning scratch card. Never a large amount but always enough for whatever he was wanting or needing, spanning from money for beer to money for some bill or another. When she questioned if gambling was the proper solution to pay the bills, he'd laughed and said gambling has a chance of losing, and since he's never lost, he wasn't sure scratch cards were actually part of the lottery.

More times than she wants to keep track of, he's reached out and halted her walking just in time for something that would have hit her to zoom past her face. Doors, other people, a few baseballs when they walk past the park, an entire stack of video tapes they'd been seeing how tall they could get once they got hired at Family Video, and even one memorable time of him hauling her back out of the crosswalk and a cyclist rounding the corner quickly. Sure, it wasn't saving her from a car, but she can't imagine it would have been a fun time getting hit by a bike instead.

He's always next to the phone when it rings, no matter where they'd previously been in his house or Family Video. He'll just meander away mid-sentence (his or hers) and stop near the phone just as it rings. He always knows who is on the other side of the door, though the doorbell ringing or knocking sounds startle him when he isn’t expecting anyone. When he is expecting someone, he never startles.

Of course, nothing definitive or proof-worthy happens. All of these things could be coincidental. Just Steve happening to be the luckiest person alive. The only option left is to ask Steve himself.

A perfect opportunity presents itself when she rides along with Steve to the gas station so he can purchase beer. They skip by the two closet places, and instead end up at the gas station on the far side of town. She stays in the car and just watches as he sets the pack on the counter and chats with the cashier, some guy with a voluminous beard. There's a bit of back and forth between the two, then Steve pulls out his wallet and pays, gets back his change along with two scratch cards, and then Steve's back in the car, placing the beer in the trunk before sliding back into the drivers seat.

"Here," he offers out the scratch cards, which Robin takes because she likes to scratch them.

"So, why did we come all the way to this gas station?" Robin asks as she take her thumbnail to the first card and Steve backs out of the parking space.

"What?"

"There are so many gas stations closer to where you live. Why this one?"

"Just followin' my gut, Robs," Steve's voice is cheeky, and she knows if she were to look up from the card to him that his face would have a cheeky grin on it.

"That makes no sense."

"What, you don't listen when your gut tells you things? You know, like the saying. Follow your gut, or whatever."

"People usually say to follow your gut for like trying to figure out what to do when faced with big decisions. Not to buy beer," she finishes the first scratch card. A fifteen-dollar winner. When no response comes from Steve, she looks over to him. His face is pinched in the way it gets when he thinks he's said the wrong thing and is trying to figure out what it was. He doesn't take his eyes off the road even when she adds, "hey. What's with the face?"

"It's just- when you make decisions, does it make you nauseous?"

"Uh, it was pretty nauseating when I was deciding whether or not to tell you that I was jealous because Tammy was looking at you."

"Yeah, yeah, sure, but I mean, like, not for big things."

She thinks on it. There have been little decisions, like what to wear, but they've all been tied up in bigger decisions or thoughts, like trying to catch the eye of a crush or auditioning for a solo in band. "Hmm, not really?"

Steve lets out a sigh. "That's what Tommy said when I tried to explain it to him. I just follow my gut. Like, I'm not always nauseous. Sometimes it's just like, a pull, or a good feeling? But that's kinda new."

The second scratch card is not nearly as important as this. She shuffles in her seat, struggling a bit against the seat belt, to sit more sideways and face Steve as best she can. "Explain from the beginning."

"Well, for as long as I can remember, I've just always had this feeling about things, and like, if the thought would have a bad outcome, I'd feel sick? Like, uhh, example... example..." Steve trails off before thumping his hand against the steering wheel in triumph, then snapping his fingers when he must recall something, "Oh! One time in middle school, my friends and I wanted to sneak into the school for- well, that doesn't matter but what does is this part. I thought about how getting caught meant my dad would be furious, and I was almost instantly nauseous. At that point I'd already learned the sudden queasiness meant I had to not do the thing I was thinking about. So, I stayed home. Learned the next day they had gotten caught breaking in. And a more recent event, you know that story Dustin told you about the junkyard and the demodogs?"

"How could I forget? Steve's so awesome, Steve's so brave, Steve's the greatest, isn't he, Robin?" She raises her voice rather than dropping it to mock Dustin. He was still in his Steve-and-Robin-should-date phase while regaling Robin with stories of Steve's heroics in the past.

They've come to a four way intersection, slowing to a stop. Steve looks all directions before going forward, then he speaks. "My only thought all night was, like, I have got to make sure these kids are alright. Nothing else matters, so long as these kids don't get hurt. And so, even though I knew leaving the bus to be bait was borderline suicidal, there was no sickness. No- not even a mildly upset stomach. And I just. I knew it would end up okay."

That eases something in Robin she hasn't even been aware needed eased. Steve has been quick to throw himself against dangers, so if what he's saying is true, he doesn't do it recklessly. "Hmm. And just now? Why that gas station?"

"I don't really... it's like, lately, I just know? I just knew if I tried the first two, they wouldn't accept the fake ID. I didn't know that the last guy wouldn't even bother to card me, just that the first two wouldn't sell to me. And it's... that's new."

"New?" Robin prompts.

"The just knowing. I've always been able to steer clear of bad decisions, or like, things that won't work out how I want them to. But the knowing that it's going to work out is new."

She looks down at the scratch cards in her hands. Both winners, she's sure, even though she hasn't scratched the second one. Certain enough to cover the cost of the beer and the cards, so the next second one has got to be at least five dollars, maybe ten, unless Steve is short on the electric bill again. "Do you think you're a psychic or just super lucky?"

"Psychic? What, like a fortune teller or something?"

"Mmm, I don't think you need a crystal ball or tarot cards, but sure."

The car comes to a complete stop and he kills the engine. Robin looks out the car to see they're back at his house. She hadn't even noticed the drive. "I can't tell the future, Robbie."

"Well, how do you know?"

He unbuckles, then shrugs. "I guess I don't. I can't, like, tell you if it'll rain tomorrow or anything like that, but if I get up in the morning and grab the umbrella on the way out the door, I know it's going to rain at some point. That feels more like luck to me."

She unbuckles and climbs out of the car, can hear Steve doing the same thing. "Well, maybe that's what seeing the future is? Just being lucky with what happens next."

He rolls his eyes and turns away, heading to unlock the door to let them in his house.

She watches him go for a moment, wishing, not for the first time, that he didn't have to live here alone. Robin's spent almost all summer here but with school starting again, her senior year, she'll have to spend weekdays at her own home. Her parents have always let her run wild during summer break, but they won't allow her to be gone as much once the school year starts.

Another unbelievable thing for her list. Everyone knew Steve's parents were gone a lot, but she never believed they'd just abandon him. That had been a late night confession, back on that first night she stayed. Kind of the reason she agreed to sleep over. He'd sounded so... neutral about the confession, when she'd asked if his parents would be bothered she was there.

"Not their house anymore, so who cares," Steve had said, emotionless.

"What?" She'd asked, surprised.

"Not their house anymore," Steve repeated before elaborating, "when I didn't get into college, they traded my trust fund for this house instead. Mom left me a voicemail letting me know." He pitched his voice higher after that, imitating his mom she guessed. "Steve, honey, your father thinks it best that we just give you the house. Since you aren't going to college, it'll be better. Won't have to worry about getting a good paying job for a mortgage, you see? Can just get started with the making-a-family part of life. We revoked the trust fund to buy a house in Paris with the money instead."

She learned later that it hadn't been worded exactly like that, and there was no mention of Paris, but it did boil down to them not believing Steve would make anything of himself, and they 'wanted him to be able to start on solid ground' which, apparently, meant home-ownership.

She hasn't told him yet, but she's planning how she'll decorate and paint her room after she graduates. She's going to take a gap year and live with Steve. Help him figure out what he wants to do in life, and then help him achieve it as best she can.

"Are you coming?" Steve shouts from the front door and Robin startles back to herself.

"Yeah. Just enjoying the outside world while I still have time."

"It's school, not prison!"

She just grins back at him as he shakes his head and goes inside without her, and it strikes her then and there. She loves Steve Harrington.

She's got a list of Unbelievable but True things she has to reorganize now.

5. Steve Harrington can predict (at least his own) future. 4. On July 7th, 1985, Robin woke up in Steve Harrington’s bed. 3. Steve Harrington came out to her as bisexual. 2. Russians-under-Starcourt, giant-flesh-monster, girl-who-can-throw-things-around-with-her-mind thing. 1. Robin Buckley loves Steve Harrington.

#gut instinct #my fic #steddie #steddiebang24

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