#band smut x reader

[gutsby]

Abstaining Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.

Warnings: 18+. IF HE AIN’T GRAYIN’ I AIN’T STAYIN’ 🗣️ [Age gap]. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced proximity. Joel making you fuck just his middle finger when he’s mad. Daddy kink. Overstimulation. First-time squirting. Angst.

Translations: ‘Don’t piss down my back & tell me it’s raining’ is a fun Southern phrase for, ‘Cut the bullshit’ or ‘Don’t lie.’

Sequel to Waiting Game & Hating Game (last rhyme I swear)

October 26, 2024

Dear Joel,

Roses are red,

We’re a couple of sluts,

Abstinence camp is awful,

I miss you rearranging my guts.

You were just about to put your pen back down to paper and add the finishing touch, signing an equally lascivious farewell, when the letter was snatched out of your hands. A tyrant in khaki capris and an artichoke-colored polo eyed over your words with a pointed look and frowned.

“Letters to the boyfriend have to be G-rated,” Marlene said, crumpling the thing in her fist before chucking it.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you returned shortly. Then, “That was actually meant for my dad’s friend.”

You sat tight a moment as the dots came to connect in the woman’s parochial and prudish mind—waiting for the wince of disgust to twitch at the corners of her eyes when she put two and two together. Once it did, you grinned. Even when she plucked the pen out of your hand and told you to sit outside, if you can’t participate in this one simple activity, you smiled bigger and strolled at a comfortable pace out the canteen door.

Anti-sex ‘summer camp’ wasn’t bad at all when you didn’t give a fuck what your counselors told you to do.

It was ridiculous, really. Absurd. Tommy Miller catching you sucking his brother’s dick under the table at your father’s birthday dinner, losing his shit with you both, then threatening to tell your dad everything if you didn’t agree to this stupid retreat and stop seeing each other. You’d barely been trapped in the shithole for twenty-four hours, and you already knew this angle wouldn’t work.

What many of your fellow campers affectionately called the ‘Firefly Fuck-Free Zone’ or the ‘Federal Dickriding Response Agency’ (F.E.D.R.A.) was in fact a secluded enclave south of Austin where khaki-clad monsters forced you to reckon with your sexual urges like one might treat a mutated strain of the Cordyceps fungus. You weren’t meant to keep them for long, and if you did, someone like Marlene would surely shame you for it.

Frankly, Tommy was dumb as shit if he thought this anti-boinking boot camp would have an effect on either one of you—Joel wouldn’t ever bang you again after what happened that night, but it wouldn’t be because of some arts and crafts bullshit he did out on a FEDRA ranch.

He just didn’t want your dad to find out and kill him.

That was a fair concern to have. You didn’t blame him.

Presently, you kicked your feet up on the porch outside the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was finishing up letters to their loved ones—this latest activity was meant to be ‘making amends’ to the people in your life—and you tipped your head back to survey the landscape.

Nothing but sweetgrass and gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Somewhere across the plains there was another cluster of cabins, though you couldn’t quite see it, and someplace within that minuscule cluster, you knew there was a middle-aged man. Dark grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration and chest heaving gently. Likely hunched over an old oak desk about five sizes too small for his frame as he gripped a pen and scribbled:

Dear Tommy,

Fuck you, you fucking fuck.

Sincerely,

Joel

You grinned again just thinking about it.

If anyone had a reason to be ticked off and terrified, it was Joel. And you, you guessed. You still hadn’t gotten your period—but that wasn’t due for another few days.

For now, you’d settled on worrying yourself over what would happen after the retreat had ended; what would you and Joel do once you went back to school? What would become of his life back in Austin with a supremely pissed off brother and a best friend who didn’t know his kid had been fooling around with a man twice her age?

Silently, you thanked your lucky stars Joel’s part of the camp was kept separate from yours, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep a straight face if you saw him.

The whole thing was sickening, if not slightly funny.

You slipped Joel’s old pack of American Spirits out of your boot and fished in your back pocket for a lighter.

Then you crammed both back when you heard a boom:

“LAKESIDE GUIDED MEDITATION STARTS IN FIVE.”

The tinny intercom rang a deafening pitch in your ears. You clamped a palm over the left side of your head and winced, having forgotten this exercise in mindfulness was supposed to be the last event to wrap up your day. You just wanted to slink back up to your cabin and sleep. Or eat. Or slip your fingers between your aching legs and indulge in some much-needed Joel Miller reminiscing.

Then you recalled how masturbation was also off limits to all would-be sexaholic campers—if there was any time to sneak off and get busy by yourself while your counselors were otherwise occupied, now would be it.

Just as you cast a glance over your shoulder to see if a stealthy exit was even possible, a voice trilled overhead.

“On your feet, skank.”

You looked back fast, and damn did Tess look smug.

Your bunkmate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, seeming to feel your thoughts before they’d even been fully processed.

“If you skip meditation, I think Marlene’s gonna take you behind the rec and shoot you in the head,” she added.

“How kind.”

“Yeah? Certain death?”

“Better than the dick deprivation,” you grumbled, only half-kidding as you dragged yourself back to your feet.

Theresa Servopoulos was no avid fan of penis herself—she much preferred women when she had her pick of it—but she grinned all the same and clapped a comforting hand over your shoulder before the two of you started walking down the mess hall’s front steps. Then she only laughed a little bit when you almost ate shit treading down the winding rocky trail to the lake and cursed your present lack of intercourse for causing your clumsiness.

“You realize it’s only been, like…a day, right?” she said.

“Might as well be a million,” you muttered, “I feel like I’m never getting laid again.”

“Oh?”

Tess gripped your elbow when a root protruding from the path nearly sent you flying again. She tried not to smile.

“Well…my fake brother’s mad at me for going behind his back and fucking his brother,” you explained, coolly.

Stupidly.

“Wait—you fucked your brother?!”

That stopped Tess in her tracks. The two of you were approaching the cusp of a clearing, just feet away from where the forest gave way to the shoreline of the lake. Folks were already congregating at the water’s edge.

“Any day now, ladies,” Marlene called through cupped hands. Tess was still regarding you with eyes the size of saucers as you traipsed across the way to that voice.

“Not my brother,” you hissed.

“You said your brother’s brother. That makes this guy your brother, too,” Tess whispered—still far too loud.

“Not my actual brother, he’s just— fuck—”

Suddenly, two scraps of red fabric were catapulted in your direction. Tess caught one. You caught the other.

“Tie ‘em over your eyes.” Marlene ordered.

“The fuck?” you mumbled, but ventured nothing more as you were ushered to join the group sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of you. Everyone else was tying bandanas around their eyes like all of this was normal.

“Another trust exercise,” Tess’s voice was low as you dropped your asses one after the other on the sand. Speaking like a seasoned veteran of the anti-sex retreat, she helped you get yours on and shot you one last ‘You-better-not-have-actually-fucked-your-sibling’ look before letting you help her secure her blindfold, too.

Just as Marlene began describing in great detail what this blind, guided meditation in self-love and elemental trust was meant to look like, your friend opted to give voice to her concerns the second the opportunity arose.

Still seated side-by-side, still blind, Tess leaned over.

“Please tell me you’re not here for bangin’ your brother.”

You had to stifle a laugh.

“I am not.”

“Then explain, Cersei!”

Just then, a throat cleared behind you. Evidently another camp counselor at your rear was telling you, wordlessly, to shut the fuck up and listen to the instructions. You and Tess just scooted closer and lowered your voices.

“So this guy, Tommy…he’s been like a big brother to me for years. Worked with my dad and always had my back for the wild shit I did back in high school,” you began.

“Uh-huh.”

“His big brother, Joel, is like…old as shit, but wildly hot.”

“Dangerous combo.”

“And Joel’s my dad’s best friend. Drove me back from college over fall break when he was visiting Boston, we took a little motel detour on the road trip home, and bam—” You snapped your fingers for effect, “We fuck, right?”

“Right.”

“—imagine you’re standing at the edge of a waterfall—”

Marlene couldn’t be serious with this hippy dippy shit. You tuned out the rest of what she said and continued:

“It’s incredible. But the condom busts open at the end—”

“Oh shit.”

“—deep breath in…and release…and again, we—”

“Freak the fuck out, right? I’m poppin’ Plan B like candy.”

“As you should.”

“—hold that breath in right there—”

“A week later, me and Joel hook up at my dad’s birthday party. Only we fuck up, ‘cause Tommy catches us, and—”

This time, the counselor who’d cleared their throat to shut you up took to nudging you both in the back with the toe of their shoe. You straightened up, tilted your head back, and scowled at them through your blindfold.

“Do you mind?” you said, turning in place but unable to see anything behind you. You imagined whoever had just butted in on your conversation was probably frowning. They said nothing in return, just huffed like a child.

“Anyway.” You pivoted back to Tess, “Tommy flips his lid, tells us he’s gonna snitch on us to my dad if we keep fucking around like that, and then he…sends us here.”

You heard your friend fight back a chuckle beside you.

“And abstinence camp is supposed to cure you of this awful disease? Wanting to fuck daddy’s best friend?”

Oddly, you wanted to giggle too. You weren’t sure what was so funny, or why Tess’s tone made you want to say something equally out of pocket and lewd, but then you were leaning over before you could even think twice:

“That old man’s dick is like a fuckin’ drug, dude.”

You wished you could’ve seen her face when you said it. But you didn’t need to catch a single glimpse to know she was grinning big and dumb when she whispered,

“Prehistoric cock must’ve been pretty nice, huh?”

You choked. She snorted. You returned, next, shortly,

“Best senior citizen schlong I’ve had in my life.”

You weren’t sure which one of you burst out laughing first. Maybe Tess. Probably you. Either way, both of your sides were splitting in seconds, as the ridiculous and just marginally offensive descriptors for Joel’s dick trembled at the tips of your tongues. You felt like a teenager again, telling your friend your filthiest desires for the DILF-next-door—except this time, you’d actually fucked him. Small perks to seeking out middle-aged men in your twenties. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to rein in the peals of laughter as Tess wheezed quietly beside you.

Then you felt hands.

Two palms under your armpits, yanking you up.

You stumbled back, graceless and still staving off half a laugh as your back struck the counselor’s chest.

“Just…take her back up.” You heard a female’s voice to your left, low and not sounding particularly amused.

Take you where? Was this the part where Marlene dragged you behind the rec and shot you in the head?

About damn time.

Whoever had grabbed you grunted in acknowledgment. You swayed in their arms, trying to regain better footing, but the grip tightened up in a second and thrust you sideways. You staggered, cursing your captor.

“Fucker,” you hissed.

Fucker said nothing.

Their hands slipped from your pits to one of your wrists, leading you away from the lake in long strides. You were moving so fast you scarcely had the chance to pull the blindfold back, so you just kept walking. Marching.

“Can you slow the fuck down, please?”

You imagined the face of the person leading you forward might’ve twisted in a scowl. Their lips didn’t stir, though.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were crunching on the flat, gravelly terrain you knew to lay under the cabins. This person was leading you back. Likely to throw you off to your room in the next several moments—but not before ripping you a new one for disrupting the peace back down at the lake. You weren’t stoked to hear it.

“Alright, just—” You tripped as you were led up the rickety steps, cursing again, “—just leave me right here.”

A set of knuckles at your spine thrust you forward.

“No? Okay. Fine. Whatever.”

You shook your head as you entered the cabin and heard footsteps follow you in. It occurred to you then that now was probably a good time to take off the blindfold.

Before you could, though, it was ripped off for you.

“Pack your shit.”

Dude.

You spun on your heels.

“DUDE!”

Your eyes moved up the very khaki shorts you despised, the puke-colored polo, the neatly embroidered camp logo, and a nametag strangely labeled ‘Lucien Flores.’ Everything in the ensemble screamed ‘camp counselor.’ But the face above it—it wasn’t one of their own at all.

It was far too lax. Fresh with an easy, shit-eating grin.

“Sweetheart—”

He started to speak, only to get the wind knocked out of his chest when you threw your arms around him.

The barrage of kisses came without you ever really intending to place them at all. You were just so stunned, practically overcome with joy to see Joel Miller in all his ruggedly handsome glory, then confused. What was he doing here, and why was he dressed head-to-toe as a counselor? And why were you so into that on him?

You doubted you could even ask the questions, and he was barely more able to answer the longer you stayed latched to his neck, kissing him everywhere your mouth could get to. You’d just stood on tip-toes to press your lips to his when you realized he wasn’t reaching back.

His hands hung limply at his sides. Still, he smiled.

“Abstinence camp ain’t taught ya much, has it?”

You parted your lips to drag your teeth along the grey-spattered scruff on his cheek—biting but not quite. Begging him to kiss you back, grab your ass, anything to quell this anguish twisting low in your stomach at the lack of contact. Joel didn’t seem keen on answering to it.

“I’ve learned plenty, Miller,” you panted against his jaw, before moving below it to sink into the skin of his neck, “Lemme show you all the stuff FEDRA told us not to do.”

Yes, you sounded desperate. No, you didn’t really care. You were much too busy fiddling with the front of Joel’s shorts to concern yourself with anything but his cock. It made it all the more gut-wrenchingly horrific and disconcerting when you felt his hands push yours away.

“No,” Joel said, simply. Then, nodding to your luggage at the foot of your bunk, “Pack your stuff, sweets. C’mon.”

He was seriously trying to break you out?

You admired the cojones on the man, but you wanted to fuck real quick to get it out of your system. Needed it.

“Joel, I—” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.

What your mouth couldn’t finish, your eyes said clear as day: I want you to take me right here. Quick and dirty. But, again, Joel seemed completely impervious to your pleas. Almost callous in the face of such a desperate request made from your eyes to his. He moved over toward your suitcase when you didn’t want to budge.

Luckily for you, you’d never unpacked. All that was left were the clothes on your back and a water bottle on the nightstand. Joel grabbed the latter and turned around to snag the suitcase on his way to the door, when he was met with you. Obstructing his path and frowning a little.

“Joel?” You raised a brow.

“Mm?”

The man in front of you straightened up, rolling a nonexistent kink from his neck before regarding you.

His gaze was alarmingly sedate.

“Y’know, you’ve got quite the knack for makin’ shit difficult—”

“Just a quickie, Miller—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ you here!”

The sudden boom of his voice should’ve startled you. But then a broad, warm palm came to rest on your shoulder, and Joel’s expression dropped immediately. There was still a tightness to it, somewhere deep within, and you couldn’t quite work out why he seemed so…off.

Then you caught sight of something steely in his gaze.

It just might’ve clicked if Joel didn’t reach for your face and elucidate things for you himself, eyes narrowing.

“I know my old man dick is like a fuckin’ drug and all…”

Shit.

Cheeks squished between his two big hands, you had only to stare. And blink. And silently regret being so loud when you were talking to Tess before. It didn’t look good.

“Joel—”

“No, no, my senile brain must be mistaken—it was actually that prehistoric cock that did it for ya.”

Your face heated with shame. You blinked again.

But just as you tried to shake your head between Joel’s hands, he pressed his palms tighter and drew you closer.

“Senior. citizen. schlong?” he intoned, painfully slow.

“Joel, I just—”

“Need to fuck someone your own age, it sounds like.”

The man in front of you released your face just as fast as he’d grabbed it, and when he stepped back, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of desperation. That wasn’t what you’d meant! It sounded so puerile and cruel coming out of his lips like this, but you had to tell him it was a joke.

“It was a joke.”

No time to mince words now.

“Real fuckin’ comedic genius,” Joel snorted.

He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep you, but you mirrored the movement. When your hands flew to his chest to keep him from moving, please, just listen to me, Joel, he pretended not to hear it, or feel it, against him.

“Alright. Enough,” he muttered, “‘S’time to go home.”

“No!”

“No?”

“No.”

For the first time, you saw Joel’s nostrils flare. You pressed into his sternum again, hoping to hold him in place so you could explain yourself, but it seemed he wasn’t planning on staying stationary. Joel dropped to your bunk—or Tess’s, technically—and situated himself comfortably on the bed before shooting you a look. You barely had had a moment’s time to contemplate your next move when he yanked you onto the cot with him.

Joel didn’t try to kiss you. He didn’t attempt to remove one article of clothing from your body or his. He just sat there, staring, while you straddled his hips staring back.

“If you wanna fuck me so bad, go right ahead,” he said, motioning indistinctly in front of him, “Be my guest.”

When you stilled, he added, “That is all y’want, right?”

With your palms laying flat on his chest and a head full of conflicting thoughts—you did want to bang him, obviously, but not before you’d gotten a chance to set things straight, not when he was looking at you like this—you chewed your bottom lip. Certainly you couldn’t continue while Joel still believed you were embarrassed by his age, his lips downturned and humorless as ever.

“C’mon,” he tried again, a touch more venom laced in his words as he spoke, “Show me how much ya want it.”

You needed time to think.

“Why are you…dressed like this?” you said, stalling.

But Joel wouldn’t be kind enough to give you that time.

“Stole the uniform so I could sneak out and over here and get you out. Are we gonna fuck now or what?”

His hands moved over your own to guide them to his lower half, just above where your clothed core was touching his. Your fingers moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, to undo the button and zip of his shorts.

Was that a flash of hurt you saw in his eyes?

You’d never been good at this communication bullshit. Neither had Joel. The two of you would probably just have sex now to hash out your feelings, as was par for the course for a pair of emotionally stunted individuals. It still pained you to see him look at you like that, though.

“Tess and me were just kidding, baby.”

You palmed the bulge in his boxers and heard him grunt. When you nudged his cock out of the fabric to stroke him, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.

“I would never say those things to hurt you,” you added.

“Didn’t hurt me none,” Joel returned instantly. Then, feeling you flick the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, he exhaled and held his face firm in place. Like he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him.

You let go of his cock to take off your socks and shoes. Then your top. Then your shorts. Then you slid down his body a little, unsure if this was the time to be trying something new. Or even doing this kind of stuff at all.

At first, you just sort of lowered yourself to Joel’s groin, his dick resting comfortably between your tits. Then you started to move, and your hands were cupping either side of your breasts to push inward on his member. Before you even fully knew what you were doing, you were squeezing Joel’s dick with the soft, supple flesh and stroking him gently. Gaze glued to him all the while.

His eyes cracked open to catch you watching him. Evidently, Joel couldn’t contain all of his reactions, because he audibly groaned when you got going.

Sliding your tits up and down his shaft, feeling him pulse between them. Sensing a warmth pool in your own lower half but being too focused, and slightly ashamed, to act. You just wanted to make Joel feel good, even if your words weren’t able to do the trick with apologizing.

“Come here,” you beckoned him with just one finger as you slid off the bed, to the floor. Joel sat up, and you kneeled obediently between his legs. The two of you shared a tense, sexless look for a second before you lowered yourself back down and resumed the position.

This time, Joel could—and did—stir his hips to create some friction between your tits. His brow pinched inward with a muted concentration, and you wanted to say it looked handsome on him, that you were sorry for saying those stupid things to Tess and making him doubt your affection for him, but you kept your mouth shut. You had to remind yourself that emotions had no place between two needy, unfeeling people who just wanted to fuck.

Maybe that was how it should’ve been from the start.

But watching Joel’s face twist and contort in pleasure nearly wiped the thought clean out of your brain forever.

You felt many things for him, whether you liked it or not.

You really wished you hadn’t said the things you’d said.

Joel braced his hands at the edge of the bed on either side of him, hips working a steady pace to fuck your tits. He was staring mostly at the spot where the head of his cock was poking up through your cleavage with each thrust, entranced by the sight, and in a second, a full-throated moan was fighting its way out of his chest. He spit in his hand and paused to smear the stuff on his shaft, on your tits. Spit again and rubbed even harder.

Seeing him so cold and detached, you wanted to apologize again. Maybe beg him to say something kind.

Instead, you mumbled, “I love it when you fuck my tits.”

Joel scarcely acknowledged the remark, just letting you work yourself over him, meet his shallow thrusts, look sweet and wait patiently for him to cum all over you. When it seemed he might be ready to do it, though, Joel withdrew from you the next second and moved back on the bed. He pulled you into his lap, straddling again, but this time situated over the side of the bed—him sitting up, you perched on the flat, sturdy expanse of his thighs facing him. In the space between your bodies, Joel slid a quiet and almost careless hand to your heat, flicking the sheer fabric of your panties to the side in one go.

The moment his fingers made contact, you flinched.

It wasn’t that you were opposed to his touch, you just felt unfairly balanced in this situation. Joel appeared so stoic; you, a complete and utter wreck. Fighting fifteen different emotions at once and feeling unusually vulnerable spread open to him now, you almost didn’t register what he was doing—or what his hand might find.

Joel’s groan brought you back, though. When he rubbed his knuckles over the seam of your cunt and practically choked out twice his lung’s capacity, you had to look.

Aloof as he tried to be, the man’s desire was painted all over his expression. And his crotch. And his hand.

Well, actually, that last bit of arousal was yours.

“Fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetie,” Joel breathed.

You perked up at the term of endearment. Watching one glistening fist of his make its way back and forth against your body, smearing sticky wet pleasure all over your mound and your folds, you found yourself gnawing your lip once more, this time for entirely different reasons.

Joel seemed to soften—even if only for a glaring carnal need, you didn’t care. You sank into this gentler touch.

“Khakis kinda suit you, Miller,” you said, off-handed.

Really, Joel looked almost as comical as he was sexy in that camp counselor getup: tan shorts stretched tight over even tanner legs, polyester top sitting pretty on wide, hulking shoulders, that silly stitched logo for the camp emblazoned over his left pec, and, of course, the nametag that didn’t belong to him but to Lucien. The whole thing was so alien to his lumberjack-chic demeanor that he nearly seemed boyish. Endearing. Some spearmint-scented hottie you might’ve had a crush on at camp years ago. You couldn’t help but smile.

Joel tried not to hold your gaze for too long.

“Don’t go pissin’ down my back and tell me it’s rainin’.”

When he slid one finger to your entrance, you tensed again, but smiled just the same and let out a breath. You felt him prod at the warm, wet skin and thumb at your clit, and something told you that he’d wanted to grin too.

“I’m serious,” you said, “Scout’s hon—ohfuckfuckfuck.”

Joel pushed one finger inside you. In spite of the ease with which he slipped between your walls, that gentle sensation made it wonderfully snug. He gripped your hip and started moving his single digit in and out, and in spite of yourself, you squirmed a bit. Joel never failed to call you out for doing that; today would be no different.

“Easy, sweet pea,” he hummed when you jumped again.

But you couldn’t help it. Your hands quickly anchored themselves to Joel’s shoulders, your legs spread wider, and your hips started stirring—bucking, really—against each teasing touch. It was still just one thick finger of his.

You glanced down and saw that it was his middle finger, in particular. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you.

“Another,” you pleaded.

“Nuh-uh.”

“You’re a mean ol— mean man.” You tried to correct course when you felt a mention of ‘old’ slip back into your vernacular, and inwardly, you cringed at your words.

Joel had already heard it. He cocked one eyebrow.

“Mean ol’ man?” he scoffed, still fingerfucking you softly. When you bucked against it, he nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’

Then, before you could chime in, he nodded some more.

His expression was hard.

“Fuck my hand,” he said.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You weren’t quite sure what he meant for you to do. When he nodded a third time, the gesture was accompanied by a quick dart of his eyes to the place where your cunt was being penetrated by his one finger. He curled the finger inward, and when you twitched at the hot throb of pleasure that followed, he grunted.

Fuck my hand.

Nails still searing tiny half-moons into his shoulders, you acted more out of impulse than by command. The look from Joel sure didn’t hurt, though. The second you started rolling your hips, he nodded again. Holding onto his praises for now and simply showing approbation.

“Like that,” he murmured.

All you were doing was rocking back and forth over his finger, whimpers percolating quietly in your chest, but the act alone made you feel desperate. And Joel smug.

It was like he wanted to see you getting off to this one, comparatively smaller part of him without being filled. Bucking plaintively to find that fullness and coming back empty every time. Your whimpers turned into whines.

“Need more,” you keened.

“Yeah?” Joel replied gently.

“Yeah.”

A beat, then:

“Tough shit.”

But he said it so goddamn sweet you had to do a double take to make sure you’d heard him correctly. When you met Joel’s eyes, you saw a hint of amusement lingering behind them. Then he squeezed your hip again and started helping you move into his hand, up and down.

“Only givin’ more fingers to good girls, y’hear?” he said.

“What about your cock?” You couldn’t help it.

Joel just breathed out through his nose. In a second, he went from camp counselor to disapproving father figure.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?”

That was all he needed to say, but the firm plunge of his middle finger certainly put a finer point on it. He curled the digit again and, upon grazing that spongy surface inside you, saw another desperate plea in your eyes.

And pleasure.

The pleasure ran almost as intense as the desperation.

Your head fell back when Joel got to making those ‘come hither’ motions again and again, thumb circling your clit, eyes trained on your figure with a marked concern. Like the prospect of not drawing an orgasm out of you in the next two minutes might very well ruin the man’s night.

“‘S’alright, honey,” Joel said quietly.

Then, finding your gaze when your head tilted back,

“Be a good girl and let go for me. Let go for daddy, hm?”

Fortunately for him, that one low hum and another flick of his middle finger and thumb were all you needed to find your release. You came on his hand with a sharp, pitiful cry and a ‘Fuckthatfeelssogooddaddyplease,’ hips working feverishly against his hand as you rode out your high. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his open palm and the way your eyes rolled back, begging him to fuck you full of his cock next, felt wildly obscene.

Joel loved obscene. Needed obscene. Hot. Febrile. Raw.

He nodded again.

Before you’d even descended fully from those staggering heights, his finger was moving too—joined by two more. Joel stuffed his index and ring fingers inside your still-pulsing hole and pretended not to hear your soft cry.

After all, you’d asked for more before. Joel was just sating your desire; your overwrought body would be fine.

“Joel,” you hissed, seizing his wrist.

“Too much?” he returned.

You tried to verbalize some answer but were cut short by a punishing stretch—all three fingers plunging in and out of your sensitive, drooling cunt and making it full of him.

“Too soon?” he tried again.

“I—”

“Too fast?”

“N—”

“Too…old?” Joel pressed after a beat.

There was an air of feigned condescension in his tone as he took on a faster pace gliding his thick, calloused fingers between your walls. You might’ve screamed if you hadn’t found your forehead pressed to his and the warmth of his irises boring into yours while he did it all. At this distance, you could discern a trace of hurt again. Something needing to be soothed inside Joel Miller.

You rutted your hips and shook your head, skull still stuck to his as you did so. Whimpers coming low.

“I didn’t…mean it,” you managed at length.

“What? That I’m ‘old as shit but wildly hot’?”

Joel wedged his fingers straight down to the knuckle and nearly tore a shriek out of your body. His eyes were surprisingly soft. Making sure your pleasure was all there.

“Hyperbole,” you choked, voice hoarse.

Then your jaw grew lax when a hand cupped your chin. All you wanted to do was melt into Joel, but you sensed something brewing again behind those honeyed eyes. Blinking was all you could do to keep your composure.

“You’re right, darlin’,” Joel said, “I am too old for you.”

Right after a clench in your tummy, a hurried word leapt up to your tongue, ‘NO!’ and you had to swallow a moan to keep from succumbing to the pleasure Joel was bringing with his fingers. Sandwiched between two orgasms was no time for a serious argument to take place, but there you were, fighting against it anyway.

“N-No,” you stammered. Stupid.

“I am.” His voice came softer somehow, more resigned.

When outright rejection of the claim seemed futile, you tried to pivot. Climax still closing in as fast as ever.

“I don’t care about that,” you hissed, exhaling hard when the first ripples of bliss crept up toward your stomach.

Joel watched you with careful eyes.

“Yeah? And Tess?”

“Joel—”

“Or Tommy.”

“I don’t—”

“Everyone else?”

Almost against your will, those minuscule ripples turned to waves of full-blown euphoria, and then you were clenching again on Joel’s hand and crying out in climax. You willed your gaze not to stray from his, but it was tough. Especially when the eyes beneath your own seemed so fucking morose and removed from you.

Don’t do this to me, Miller. Don’t do it, don’t do it.

In the wake of what should’ve been consummate satisfaction, you found yourself retreating to a place more akin to starvation—suddenly eager to get your mouth over his and start kissing, tonguing, and scraping your teeth like you’d missed out on a full week’s worth of meals. Feeling selfish but also uncertain how else to proceed—was Joel Miller breaking up with you here?

You couldn’t be sure, because he kissed you back. Joel kissed you and cupped your cheeks, then chased your frame all the way down to the coarse, scratchy sheets of the bed, where he was quick to climb on top of you.

Hell, it seemed breathing was too tough to accomplish with your frenzied pace and the continuous stream of open-mouthed kisses placed anywhere and everywhere. A groan from Joel trembled between your lips as you helped him get his shorts and boxers the rest of the way down his legs—all but dragging them with your heels—and he tightened a fist in your hair when they were off.

“I shouldn’t’a come here,” he mumbled.

“But you did,” you panted.

Both of you got lost in another onslaught of kisses, and you tried not to sigh. Joel was still battling something.

Even as he peeled your panties off and lined himself up with your entrance, he seemed resolved to stay quiet. Holding your gaze and not saying what had to be said.

He was a lot like you in that way.

You kept kissing him anyway.

The events that followed seemed to you little more than fleeting, happy scenes from a film you’d always wanted to see—an eager Joel, a caring Joel, an I-don’t-think-I’m-physically-capable-of-holding-you-any-closer Joel. The weight of his cock a welcome friend and the kisses somehow far too intimate to be considered friendly at all. You’d almost forgotten you were at a camp designed to prevent this very thing from happening between two stupid, impulsive people like you, and you didn’t care.

All you knew was a yawning stretch—that aching, empty void filled to perfection by Joel’s member—and the shockwaves of pleasure that vibrated in bands all the way down to the balls of your feet. You felt safe and secure caged between two muscular arms, and you reveled in a warmth that spanned every inch of your body touching his. The weight suffocating and somehow not oppressive; Joel cradled your head to make sure of it.

“Ain’t…hurtin’ ya, am I?” he said when you winced.

You shook your head against his sweaty palms to say that he wasn’t; you were just adjusting. He scanned your face for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.

In this tender position, your brain was ready to burst—whether from guilt, shame, ruthless self-loathing, or a sobering sense of closeness, you weren’t sure. All four seemed to form the impetus for the words that came next, which were soft, repeated apologies against Joel’s mouth. He swallowed each one without a second thought.

“Quit sayin’ it,” he rasped, low.

“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sorr—”

Soft lips again. ‘S’okay, honey.’

You weren’t sure why, but your face felt extra hot.

Joel pressed his thumbs on either side of it while he kissed you and went deeper. Then he squeezed even more, and your breath hitched quietly in your throat.

Aw, shit, he could probably feel your heart running amok in your chest and thrumming like crazy right now.

“Ain’t nothin’—” Joel paused to send one measured thrust along your cervix, “—to be sorry for. Nothin’.”

Your legs tightened at his sides when his hips started to snap in quick, stuttered motions, desperate for more friction and depth. He got both, and he groaned feeling you tighten around him as he filled your cunt to the brim. The silky warmth of your walls drawing him in was almost too much, and every now and then he’d have to slow to mutter some, ‘’S’fuckin’ chokin’ me, honey, ya feel that?’ or ‘This pussy’s just made to take me, huh?’

Joel asked like he actually needed the reassurance. As if the slick, dripping arousal coating his length and the sounds of your whimpers mixed in with those wet slaps weren’t enough—as if he had to have deeper consolation.

He was splitting you open and looked guilty as he did it.

Still shaking with each thrust, you helped him slide his shirt over his head and bring him bare, chest-to-chest with you. You couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.

“Joel, I fuckin’ love— I need you inside,” you managed.

“You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

His face softened.

“‘S’mine, isn’t it?”

He said it so fast you couldn’t make out if it were really a question or a simple statement of fact. His balls routinely smacking your ass, eyes searching yours, always gentle.

“Say that you’re mine.”

No, Joel—don’t do that, don’t say it like that.

Your visceral reaction was to recoil. You couldn’t because he had you pinned, but damn did you want to—not him, not this, not now, Joel, why would you fucking say that?

The look in his eyes now surpassed the hurt from before. It was open and aching, even as he drilled your body in two at a near-ruthless pace. Asking you so sincerely.

The obstinacy inside you was almost laughable. Damn near sent your head spinning in a fit of hysterics at how much you wanted to say but wouldn’t; how much you sensed lay waiting to fly off Joel’s tongue but couldn’t. If you were any more emotionally pent-up you might’ve ruptured a blood vessel and lost all ability to think.

It didn’t help that you were both about to cum.

Or that Joel’s right hand was fumbling for your clit.

His expression was steady as ever when you jumped, made a whining noise below him, and grabbed his wrist. You looked down to where your bodies were joined and got a dizzying glimpse of that sight: cunt swallowing Joel’s cock repeatedly, pleasure pooling between your two bodies, then a digit at that little bundle of nerves.

He kissed your hairline and hummed.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Whose pussy is this?”

His thrusts sped up, along with his thumb.

“Don’t.” Not an answer but a warning: tread lightly, Joel.

He kissed your forehead again. And again. For a second you thought he might stay that way until you both came, but then his lips were finding yours, mumbling softly,

“Say no one’s gonna fuck you but me.”

“But—”

“None of those pencil-dick douchebag Delta Sigma whatever-the-fuck ya call ‘ems—” Joel continued, unfazed, “—not your lab partner, not your hallmate—”

His cock was gliding in and out of you at a punishing pace now. Wonderfully slick with sounds obscenely piercing to your ears. You could feel Joel digging in the depths of your tight, throbbing cunt, could see his expression contort with much the same pleasure you were experiencing yourself, and could very well smell the faint aroma of American Spirits still staining his breath. Joel Miller was a sick fuck for what he was doing to you, and he knew it. You nipped at his lower lip in between tender kisses and quietly-spoken words, and whimpered.

“—not your TAs, not your professors—” he pressed on.

You opened your mouth to let a lewd moan escape when Joel lifted his hand to shove a thumb inside. Instinctively, you sucked the whole thing straight down to the knuckle.

“Nobody but me, y’hear that?” Afforded better leverage with his finger wedged between your teeth, he shook your head a little as he fucked you. Watched you bob and nod a wordless ‘yes’ in doe-eyed complaisance while his cock drove shockwaves of pleasure straight through you.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth, and you let him.

You drooled all over that man’s finger like it might’ve been supplying oxygen to your lungs, and when Joel leaned in and said, ‘Ya like that, sweet pea?’, you answered in the affirmative. Or at least as close as you could get while Joel was filling up his two favorite holes.

Your orgasm was maybe two strokes away from shattering bones, it seemed. Now was his chance.

Swiftly, Joel retracted his touch just far enough to drag a string of saliva out of your mouth—then deliver a taut but gentle slap to your cheek. The soft thwack, combined with the sounds your bodies were making down below, served only to elevate the pornographic pitch of your moan:

“Joel!”

“That’s right.”

Joel’s mouth hovered an inch over yours, half-smirking, as if waiting to suck the words clean off of your lips. You whined when his thrusts got quicker and the mouth that was grinning got to kissing your own again. Talking dirty, too.

“Show me who this cunt belongs to. Say it,” he grunted.

You clenched, kissed him back, were just barely aware of the words you were trying to form when you stuttered some unintelligible, ‘Y-Y—ohfuckdaddyjustlikethatoh—’

Oh.

Your eyes widened to Joel’s, and before you could even begin to process what was happening to your body, his name just snapped off your tongue like a shot. A shriek. Some blissfully half-strangled moan that Joel captured between his teeth as he fucked you into the mattress and held your body tight to his own. His palm was wet.

Your legs were wet.

The soft, heaving juncture between your bodies was wet.

You were only dimly aware of the sensation as you dug your heels in Joel’s back and let out a series of cries and moans, but then that fluttering feeling inside made you flinch. A pulsing between your thighs and a…warmth.

You were still blinking through a post-euphoric haze when you felt a soft heat simmer and sink within you.

Did Joel just…cum inside you? Again?

“You dumb motherfucker,” you hissed without hesitation.

You’d just managed to shove him away—not far, but away—when you scrambled into a sitting position and slapped a hand over your stomach. Expecting to feel a churning and an awful pinch as you came to make out some vague sensation of Joel’s seed painting your insides, you were surprised when you didn’t get it at all.

In point of fact, Joel had just sprayed a full Jackson Pollock onto your stomach and was blinking, still fisting his cock as you quickly made your way back to your feet.

Where was that wetness coming from?

You stood and stared down at your stomach. Your legs. The translucent, trickling something that had paved a clear path between your thighs and all over Joel’s front. It didn’t make sense, unless—

“You fuckin’ squirted!” Joel cheered.

Your first instinct was to make a face.

That shit only happened in poorly produced pornos and movies based on books by Colleen Hoover, not real-life human beings. What the hell was this man on about?

“Be fucking serious,” you scowled, reaching for a stray shirt on the floor. Before realizing it was even yours, you hastily swiped several big globs of Joel’s cum with it. Your face grew even more enflamed, and yourself, oddly…ashamed. You couldn’t quite make sense of why Joel was grinning so big, or why you felt so embarrassed by what appeared to be a natural bodily function, but you suspected it probably had something to do with the state of sex education in Texas. Those fuckers definitely skipped squirting in favor of abstinence-only rhetoric.

Still weird. Still gross. You wished Joel would stop smiling.

“Lose the look or I’ll slap that fuckin’ grey off your head.”

Admittedly, neither aftercare nor communication was your métier. You started throwing on clothes, annoyed.

Meanwhile, Joel was swiping moisture off his abdomen three thick fingers at a time and wiggling the residue up for you to see—‘All it is is a sign of good lovin’, sweets, ain’t nothin’a be ashamed of!’—and you gave him just one finger in return. You were sliding your shorts up your legs and attempting to scrap the jizz off your FEDRA top when Joel started shrugging on his stolen clothes, too.

Your back was turned to him, eyes scanning the almost too-calm outdoors through the window a minute later, when you felt an arm snake close around your waist.

“Tastes a little like honey,” Joel crooned in your ear, doubtlessly smirking as he swayed you, “Only sweeter.”

You rolled your eyes. No cunt tasted like a honeycomb.

And you tried to say as much when he stroked over the strip of exposed skin between your shorts and the hem of your shirt, squeezing you tighter, but Joel was too good. He spidered a teasing touch over your tummy and yanked you back into his chest when you squealed and tried to break free. Then your sides, your ribcage, your shoulder blades—anyplace Joel could tickle, he tried to—and most spots, you were squeamish as hell. You clamped a hand over your half-open, giggling mouth, and when you felt him flip you around, you didn’t protest.

Suddenly, Joel’s hands were on either side of your face. He wasn’t smiling quite so big anymore but nevertheless maintained a kind glint behind his eyes. They were soft.

“‘M’sorry,” he said.

Then, pausing as if to consider his words, he said,

“You did great.”

He stopped again to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“So good.”

When he saw another smile twitch at the corners of your lips, as though asking him for more, he kissed those too.

“If that was your first time with…that…I’m, uh…”

“What?”

Another beat. Another stupid, stubbled grin.

“The luckiest…senior citizen sonovabitch, I guess.”

At the tail end of that, and once Joel had punctuated his sentence with another tender peck, you met his gaze again. Somehow, it had only gotten softer. His thumbs were searing the gentlest of imprints in the apples of your cheeks, his breaths were even and warm, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought the man was contemplating saying something else to you then.

He didn’t.

The bridge to an old Billy Joel song made sure of that.

“And when she’s walkin’, she’s lookin’ so f-i-i-i-ine.”

You heard gravel crunch outside the cabin.

“And when she’s talkin’, she’ll say that she’s m-i-i-i-ine.”

Footsteps bounding up the half-rotted, cedar steps.

“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love wi—SHIT.”

Tess’s face went blank the second the door swung open.

Thankfully, both of you were clothed. You and Joel leapt apart like she’d just caught you in doggy, though. And Tess looked like she might’ve seen an asscheek or two with the way she was staring at you both, letting the screen door slam shut, and a wordless ‘what-the-fuck’ caught somewhere in the tepid air between you three.

You stared at Tess, and Tess stared at you. Joel peered over her shoulder for the arrival of any more onlookers or folks just wanting to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ in your general vicinity. Fortunately, no one else appeared behind her.

But Tess looked awestruck enough for fifty people. She blinked and visibly swallowed as her gaze shifted to Joel.

“So FEDRA does dick appointments now?” she hissed.

“No!”

“I’m not—”

“He’s from the other camp.”

“You’re shitting me. Absolutely shitting me right now.”

You brought both hands to your face in a stifling, quiet desperation, unsure what to do. Joel just blinked back.

“I’m—we’re—” he started.

“Fucking!” Tess bit back, “You are so fucking. Raw.”

She wasn’t wrong. Her sixth sense for knowing who was having clandestine sex in her bed was kind of insane.

But, where you expected a look of horror to crawl into those taut, too-smart-for-her-own-good features, you found your bunkmate starting to raise her eyebrows.

Then laugh.

Tess threw her head back and laughed because she thought you were boinking a FEDRA camp counselor.

Joel shared a similar look of surprise but didn’t laugh.

“Yeah, I’m uh…J—” Again, he made as if to speak, to introduce himself, but Tess cut him off. About to wheeze.

“Lucien Flores, you dirty dog!” she cackled.

Joel glanced down at his nametag, started to shake his head, and probably didn’t anticipate Tess smacking him on the shoulder in a semi-congratulatory sort of way. Given a little more muscle to the playful punch, she just might’ve knocked him over. Joel was then trying to pry the pin off his polo just as you stepped closer to her.

“Tess, he’s…” You considered spilling the beans en masse but quickly decided against it. You’d have to stick to the barest of bones if you had any hope of escaping this place. So, resuming, you squeezed her arm and just said:

“Flores is gonna bust us out. Get your shit and we’ll go.”

Theresa Servopoulos didn’t need to be told twice.

And when she scrambled over to her sex-stricken bunk, inquired with a hurried but patently grossed out expression about who the fuck had wet the bed while she was gone, Joel didn’t hesitate—he said it was him.

“FEDRA man with a piss kink. I like you already, Lucien.”

#ONE CABIN 🏚️ #ONE BAND #ONE DREAM #ONE DIRECTION #IF YOU THOUGHT I WAS GONNA BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS YOU WOULD BE MISTAKEN HAHAHAHA #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you #dbf!joel

[simon--ghost--riley]

Where's. The. Damn. Dog.

#ghost x babygirl!reader #simon ghost riley #the band ghost #ghost #ghost cod #ghost bc #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #tumblr milestone #ghost x male reader #ghost x soap #cod smut #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod mwii #rain code #mw2 #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #mwii #trends #fiction #my fic #fic rec #fic ref

[do2faj]

I found this in the depths of my Ipad

#from last summer I think #the band ghost #ghost the band #ghost #ghost fanart #papa emeritus fanart #ghost the band fanart #secondo ghost #secondo #ghost secondo #secondo emeritus #papa secondo #daddy secondo #papa emeritus the second #papa emeritus secondo #papa emeritus ii fanart #papa emeritus ii smut #ghost band #papa emeritus 2 #sister of sin #papa ii fanart #papa ii #secondo fanart #ghost fandom #band ghost #ghost bc #infestissumam #sisters of sin #papa emeritus #secondo x reader

[xx-like-a-villian-xx]

I'd Love To Watch

You’re forced to share a room with Noah and he wonders what book you’re reading.

This one is for all my dark romance reading babes, stay slay 🥀

My ao3 is HERE

Also let me know if you want to be tagged in anything upcoming posts, (I have so many WIPs)

CW: one bed trope (ugh my fave), mentions of dark romance, fingering, Noah is a MUNCH, squirting, forced proximity (let me know if I need to add any more)

18+ MDNI | Noah Sebastian x Reader

“Are you kidding me?” You groan, staring at the second suitcase in the bedroom that you called dibs on when you arrived at the Airbnb. “Matt, who put their shit in my room?” You call out to your best friend and tour manager who walks towards you, a smug smirk on his face.

”Well Noah kept saying he would take the couch but there’s a California King in there so I told him he should just bunk in with you tonight.” He leans against the doorframe, grinning. “Call it team building.”

”Team building?” You scoff, exasperated.

All you want is one night to yourself without being stuck in a bus full of sweaty guys and Matt thinks it's funny to let the man you’ve been trying to avoid all tour share your room.

Noah doesn’t like you, it’s been clear since day one. Every time he talks to you he’s so patronising and cocky it makes your blood boil but it’s not like you can say much. You’re just their merch girl after all, replaceable. If it wasn’t for Matt you wouldn’t even have the opportunity so you keep your mouth closed and stay out of Noah’s way unless it’s important.

“Does Noah know that we’re sharing?” You fold your arms over your chest, staring at your best friend.

Matt chuckles. “More than aware, he actually seemed fine with it.” Your eyebrow raises in surprise and he laughs. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

You watch Matt retreat to his room and get to work pulling your pyjamas out from your suitcase, locking yourself in the bathroom to get ready for what you now know is going to be a hell of a long night.

While brushing your teeth you hear someone shuffle into the bedroom and you groan internally. Spitting the toothpaste into the sink, you gather your discarded clothes from the day and take a deep breath before opening the en-suite door.

Noah is lying spread eagle on the bed, wearing a pair of basketball shorts with no top, scrolling on his phone. He doesn’t even acknowledge your presence when you put your things back into your suitcase. You roll your eyes, grabbing your book to sit in the window seat across from the bed for a while, quietly reading to yourself. The silence is thick and you can hear his heavy breathing, distracting you from your book.

Your eyes flick from the dark romance novel to the man on the bed, eyes trailing over the expanses of ink that cover his toned skin and you feel heat pooling in your core.

”Anyone ever told you it’s rude to stare?” His voice breaks you out of your trance and your eyes flick back to the words on the page.

You scoff. “I wasn’t staring, you just breathe really loud and it’s pissing me off.”

He chuckles darkly. “Yeah, sure thing sweetheart.”

The sound of movement reaches your ears but you daren’t look at him, lifting the book higher to hide your red face. Suddenly the novel is snatched from your hands and you scramble to grab it back from him.

”Heartless Heathens?” He hums, holding the book out of your reach as he reads the blurb then flicks through a couple of pages, eyes widening. “Jesus, Y/N. I didn’t realise you were into this kinky shit.”

Your face is tomato red, burning hot as you try to wrestle the book from his hands.

“Noah give me my book back!”

All he does is laugh, eyes flicking back and forth as he reads the page I had bookmarked. “Oh my god! ‘Does that tight pussy hurt when my fat cock stretches it out like this?’ Wow…”

His dark eyes meet yours and you squeeze them shut out of embarrassment, hiding your face with your hands.

”You like that shit, huh?” You can hear the amusement in his voice as steps forward, throwing the book down on the window seat. You want the ground to swallow you up when you feel him staring down at you.

You huff, removing your hands from your face. “Loads of people do, it’s just a book.”

“I mean, do you like that stuff? Guys talking to you like that in bed? Asking you if it hurts when they stretch you out on their cock?”

You laugh, he’s joking right? You look up at him and your mouth goes dry when you see his dark eyes, pupils blown wide with lust.

”I don’t know,” you shrug. “I haven’t been with anyone for a couple of years, I don’t really have the time.”

Noah looks taken aback at your words and his lips turn up into a smirk. “A pretty girl like you? Surely you have guys begging for a chance in every state we visit.”

You chortle, crossing your arms. “Unlike most guys, I don’t need sex.”

He scoffs, picking the book back up. “So you just read this casually?”

”Most of the time.”

”And the rest of the time?”

The hot flush returns to your cheeks, reaching the tips of your ears. “That’s none of your business.”

He starts to flick through the pages again, humming as he reads. “Can I take a guess?”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever, go ahead.” You throw yourself down onto the bed, sitting against the headboard as he paces, reading.

“I think you like this Corvin guy most, I can imagine you getting all hot and bothered when you read his parts and you can’t help but find yourself fingerfucking yourself in your bunk when everyone is asleep.” His head tilts when he stops to look at you, his eyes searching for the telltale signs of your arousal, grinning when he sees your thighs clench together. “Am I correct?”

You shake your head in disbelief. What’s his game and why is he trying to get under your skin over some book. Your underwear feels damp from the wetness that is pooling at your core from his words and you have to stop yourself from lunging at him, to either punch him or kiss him…you’re unsure which one would be more satisfying.

”C’mon Y/N, tell me.” He sits next to you, pointing at a section where the main character is riding Corvin. “Is this what you get off to?”

You feel all too hot and bothered with him sitting next to you with his shirt off, tattooed skin taunting you as he tries to coerce the secrets of your alone time out of you.

”If I wasn’t in here right now is that what you’d be doing? Getting off over your little dark romance book?”

”What’s your deal Noah? Why do you want to know about all this?” You sit up straighter and he lounges back, eyeing you humorously.

He shrugs. “It’s just cute that you read this horny stuff. I never took you as the type to get riled up by it, is all.”

”You’d be surprised.” You mumble and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

”You read worse?”

”Oh shut up, Noah. It’s just dumb fiction, why are we even still talking about this?”

He turns to his side, propping himself up on his elbow, eyes burning into the side of your head. “Because I can tell how hot and bothered you are right now and it’s kind of sexy, I must admit.”

You gulp at his words, staring straight ahead in a conscious effort not to look at him or all of your resolve might falter.

”So tell me, were you so pissed about having to share this room because you wanted some special alone time tonight with your little smut novel?”

You can feel his smirk and the tension in the room thickens, turning into a storm cloud of lust.

”You can still do it, you know.”

Your eyes finally dart to his smug face and your eyebrows furrow. “What?”

He shrugs casually. “You can still get yourself off, I could read to you if you want?”

Your swallow thickly, your core throbbing at his words. “No, that’s weird.”

Noah chuckles. “Masturbation isn’t we-“

”I fucking know that! What’s weird is you’re my boss and you’re offering to read to me while I make myself cum. Do you hear yourself?”

You can’t lie to yourself, the offer is almost too tempting. It’s not fair that the most attractive man you know is basically offering to help you get your rocks off but he hates you right? He’s always so moody and weird around you. Why is he being like this?

He sits up, scooting closer so your shoulders are touching and he leans close to your ear, his breath tickling the skin of your cheek. “Or I could tell you every wicked little fantasy I’ve had about you since you waltzed into the studio with Matt all those years back.’

Your eyebrows raise and you turn to him, his mouth just inches from yours. “You fantasise about me?”

He laughs, a smug sound that makes you want to punch him. “Oh yeah, my favourite is the one where I get to bend you over and rip apart those fishnets you love to wear, the ones with the lace flowers on.” His eyes darken as he reminisces over the lewd thoughts and your mind wanders.

How would it feel to have his hands all over you, tearing away those expensive tights that you adore? How would it feel to have him buried to the hilt inside you as he pushes your head into whatever surface he can find? Fuck its all too much.

”Noah, we shouldn’t talk about this stuff.” You try to reason with yourself but your resolve quickly disappears when his long inked finger trails up the bare skin of your thigh, stopping at the hem of your silky black pyjama shorts.

“Why? We’re both adults.” He smiles almost innocently.

”Because you don’t like me.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Since when? Didn’t I just tell you that I literally think about how I want to bend you over?”

You roll your eyes. “You literally talk to me like shit the majority of the time.”

”I like watching you squirm.” His smile is cocky and it only sends more electricity to your core because he’s right, he does make you squirm and you like it too.

A lust filled silence lingers in the air as he stares into your eyes, a smirk plastered on his lips.

”So do you still want to get yourself off, I’d love to watch.” He cocks an eyebrow and there it is, the last of your resolve leaving out the window.

”Fine.”

He’s like a kid in a candy shop when he sits up, watching you lie down on the bed. Your heart hammers in your chest as you close your eyes, trying to pretend he isn’t there. You slide the silk shorts down your legs, leaving the black lace thong on and your hand travels over the soft fabric, running over the damp patch that is only getting bigger.

You gasp when you slide your hand between the fabric, fingers slipping between your slick folds, easily finding the sensitive bundle of nerves that's been begging to be touched since you walked out of the bathroom to find Noah sprawled out shirtless on the bed. Oh how you wanted to just climb on top of him, to sink down on his cock like you owned him.

A quiet whimper escapes your lips when you circle your clit, slowly teasing yourself to the images of Noah’s cock buried deep inside your cunt. You feel him shift next to you to get a better look at your movements, how your fingers move under the dark lace of your panties. You hear him take a shaky breath and it sends shockwaves to your sensitive core.

“Does that feel good?” His voice is deep, coarse in your ear and you whine out a confirmation, moving your fingers faster over your clit. “God, you don’t know how good you sound. Do you like it when I talk to you?”

”Y-yes.” You sigh and he chuckles.

”Such a good girl.” He whispers, breath tickling your ear. “Do you want me to tell you what to do, huh? Do you want to be good for me and remove your underwear so I can see how you touch that pretty little pussy? God, I bet it’s so perfect.”

You whimper, using your spare hand to push the lace down your thighs, kicking them off as you toy with yourself. Noah leans forward, a hand landing on your thigh to pull your legs further apart and a feral groan leaves his throat when you spread yourself open for him to see just how wet you are, fingers covered in wet slick.

”Oh fuck, you look so good sweetheart. Show me how you bury those pretty fingers in there.”

You push two fingers into your core, the wet sound reaching your ears. You don’t think you’ve ever been this turned on in your life. You hear Noah’s breathing quicken as he watches you fuck yourself with your fingers, soft moans leaving your bitten lips.

”Doing so fucking well for me.” The praise feels like heaven when it meets your ears and you speed up, curling your fingers upwards. “Fuck, what I would do to bury my own fingers inside you.”

”Please.” You whine, opening your eyes to look at him, your breath coming out in pants when his lust blown eyes meet yours.

“Please what?” He smirks, tucking a piece of stray hair behind your ear as you find your clit again, rubbing your soaked fingers over the sensitive bud.

“I need your fingers inside me, please.” You’re so fucking needy and you can tell how much he gets off on it by how his smirk grows into a cruel grin and he holds his fingers against your plump lips.

”Are you gonna suck them for me? Get them nice and wet like the good little slut you are?” Your eyes roll back at his words and he gasps when your tongue swirls around the calloused pads of his fingers, soaking them with your saliva.

He pushes two long fingers into your warm mouth and you hollow your cheeks around them, staring up at him with innocent eyes that make his aching cock strain against his shorts. He pulls his fingers out with a pop and trails them down the valley of your clothed chest, down your navel to where your own fingers are still toying with your clit. Your eyes follow and your hand moves, giving him full access to where you need him most.

”You gonna watch me fuck you with my fingers huh?” He smiles sweetly, sliding his fingers up and down your drenched folds teasingly.

You nod, leaning up on your elbows to watch his slender fingers disappear between your folds, rubbing tight circles around your clit and you gasp his name, your mouth falling open at the immense pleasure. He chuckles, sliding them to your entrance to gather the wetness that pools there, moving back to your clit to play with it all too slowly.

”Please Noah.” You whine and he tuts.

”Be patient, I’ll get there. I want a better look.”

He moves to lie between your legs, pushing your legs further apart to get a good look at your glistening cunt. You can feel his breath hot against you and you could just cum right there without him even touching you, especially with how he looks up at you through those long lashes, eyes black and predatory like he wants to eat you whole.

“You’ve got such a perfect pussy, fuck.” He groans, pushes his long middle finger in, the dark ink disappearing inch by inch inside your cunt and you moan louder than expected, your hand flying to your mouth to keep yourself quiet. “Fuck, it feels so good, so soft.”

A second finger joins the first and he slowly curls them, finding that spot that leaves you seeing stars, your eyes rolling back, your head lolling back on your shoulders. His spare hand grips your inner thigh with a bruising hold and you're sure there will be bruises there tomorrow but you don’t mind, it feels like heaven.

”My mouth is so close to your pussy I can practically taste you.” He growls and your hips buck, pushing his fingers even deeper inside you. He chuckles darkly. “Do you want me to taste you?”

You sob, nodding enthusiastically.

”Use your words, pretty girl.” He hums, kissing your pelvic bone.

”Please taste me.”

He hums, his hot tongue dragging over your folds before his lips close around your clit, leaving you gobsmacked from how fucking good his tongue feels against you with his fingers fucking into you.

You’re close, you can feel that tightness building in your lower abdomen, so fucking close. His fingers curl faster, his tongue lapping over your clit like you’re the last water source on Earth and you’re falling. Your legs shake, a feral groan leaving your lips as your orgasm rips through your body like a fucking tornado. His fingers only move faster as his lips leave your sensitive clit and you're tipping over the edge again just as quickly, gushing around his fingers and the bed sheets below.

”Fuck, good girl!” He grins, lapping your sweet nectar from your thighs. “Think you’ve got another?”

You have no time to protest, he rises to slide between your thighs, fingers still buried deep inside your cunt as he stares down at you, curling them fast exactly where he knows he can drag another orgasm from you. His free hand covers your mouth when you cum again, screaming into his palm, soaking the front of his shorts where his leaking cock strains against them.

”Good fucking girl, well done!” He kisses your forehead, pulling his drenched hand away from your sensitive core to suck his fingers clean.

You stare at him in bewilderment when he smiles down at you. You’re in shock at how much you just came for a man you thought hated you half an hour ago.

”I think I need to catch you reading more.” He chuckles.

”Shut the fuck up.” You roll your eyes, pulling him into a searing kiss.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“So you two didn’t kill each other last night?” Matt smirks when you make your way downstairs in the morning, wearing one of Noah’s shirts with him freshly showered following behind you.

Folio storms past, looking a little worse for wear. “I would’ve preferred it if they did, I need to bleach my ears.” He groans, pouring himself a mug of coffee.

You blush bright red, throwing a grape at the drummer and Noah wraps his arms around your torso, pulling you into his lap.

”Guess my plan worked then.” Matt chuckles, popping a grape in his mouth with a grin.

#noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian smut #bad omens band #bad omens #bad omens fic #bad omens cult #band fic #fanfiction

[sajajhsbz]

Jealous

Pairing: Sodo Ghoul x reader

summary: Since you joined the band, Sodo has been hostile towards you, but you would have never guessed the reason was jealousy...

warnings: Smut| fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, choking, and spanking.

"it's not my fault y/n can't play fucking right"

"I can't play? Please Sodo you got half the fucking song wrong"

"fuck you"

"you wish"

"ok ok ok" Copia intervened "Let's all calm down a moment and take a break, alright? Sodo" He nodded to him "Go have a smoke"

A grumbled "fine" echoed off the rehearsal room as he walked off, slamming the door behind him.

"god he's such a fucking drama queen" you sighed, having a sip of your water as you sat down between Phantom and Swiss.

"he always has to shout- and always at me! I honestly don't get what I've done to make him hate me so much"

They exchanged a look, a smirk playing on their lips.

"I don't think he hates you, sweetheart"

you snorted " 'sure looks like it"

"I think it's actually quite the opposite"

"What, that he wants to fuck me?" you asked, rolling your eyes "You all do, you perverts" you teased "And if that's the case, yelling won't get him anywhere"

they chuckled "We know baby, but you know how he is..."

"yeah, an asshole"

just then the door opened, Sodo's still clearly tense figure emerging from it.

"yeah" somebody whispered in response, but you were focused on him.

Copia asked him something, but his eyes set on Swiss's hand you hadn't even noticed was placed on your thigh.

He emitted a grunt that spurt of jealousy to answer Copia, and your eyes met for just a moment.

You definitely took note of that.

__ __ __

Only you, Phantom, and Sodo were left in the rehearsal room, as always the ones taking the longest.

You laughed at a funny remark Phantom made and slapped his shoulder playfully as you finished packing your stuff.

"oh I almost forgot" you recalled "Here is your pick," you said, fishing it out of your pocket to hand it to him.

"don't worry, keep it"

"Are you sure? Didn't you have this since you were young?"

"I did, but I want you to have it"

Your lips turned into that happy pout he adored

"thank you so much!" you smiled, throwing your arms around his neck in a tight hug.

He hesitantly hugged you back

"you were always my favorite" you whispered into his ear, sensing how he shivered under you

"thank you, handsome," you said again, kissing his cheek for a moment more than necessary before letting him go.

"n-no worries" he shook his head, poorly attempting at hiding his blushing cheeks.

He picked up his things as quickly as he could before rushing to the door.

"Uh-Uh, I-I'll see you later"

"bye handsome" you chuckled, watching him scurry to his room.

A loud sigh came from your right, and you caught Sodo rolling his eyes as you turned around

"oh don't worry you're handsome too" you teased, walking to him.

"You gave the poor kid a hard-on just for fun?"

"no, not just for fun, I'll take care of it later"

And there it was, that tick of his jaw as jealousy darkened his eyes.

"what, you're jealous?"

He avoided your gaze, pretending to be busy with his guitar's chords.

"you can tell me if you are..."

"I'm not" he spat

"so you're saying you haven't thought about me that way? that you haven't fucked your fist just last night imagining it was me?" you mocked, a sly smirk playing on your lips "We have really thin walls y'know?"

"fuck off"

You let out a dramatic sigh "Fine, then I guess I'll go keep Phantom some company since you seem to have a stick up your ass" you said, walking to the door, but before you could reach it, his hand grabbed your wrist, turning you around.

"I knew it" you grinned, as he stared right into your soul with his frozen eyes.

"shut up"

you smirked, ghosting his mouth, "Make me"

And at that, he'd had enough.

he crashed his mouth with yours, devouring you as if you were a fucking meal and him a starved man.

His tongue moved into your mouth, exploring all you had to offer as his hand gripped and groped like it was their duty.

He slammed you against the door, making you wince as your head hit the hardwood, he couldn't have cared less as he finally got a taste of what he'd been dreaming about for a whole year.

He didn't know why he had refrained for so long. He hated himself for wanting you this much, and all that hate was oftentimes wrongly pointed at you.

You let out a quiet whimper as he started sucking on your neck, your hand going straight to his long hair.

"see now, it wasn't so hard" you mocked him in between breaths "You could have told me earlier that this was all you wanted"

"I thought I'd told you to shut up"

You chuckled "you did"

"God you're such a fucking brat" his hold on your waist tightened "I think you need something to keep that mouth busy" he smirked "and as much as I'd like to see you kneel before me, I don't think you've earned my cock just yet" he taunted you, seeing the way your eyes had sparked at the proposal.

His hand traveled up your body until two of his long fingers reached your bottom lip.

"Be a good girl and show me how good you'd suck my dick"

You wasted no time taking them in your mouth, closing your eyes as you pretended it was his cock.

He groaned at the sight "Just like that-" he said, pumping his fingers in and out of your mouth as saliva pulled from your puffy lips.

You hadn't even noticed his other hand sneaking beneath your skirt, until you felt his thumb press to your clothed core

Your eyes snapped open as a muffled gasp attempted to flee your throat

"Yeah, I like you much better when you can't talk" he nodded, looking proud of himself.

"don't you even think about stopping" he growled, eyeing your lips as his fingers found their way inside your panties "if you do, so do I" he threatened, gathering some of your slick on his middle and ring finger and teasing your entrance with them

You moaned, but didn't need to be told twice as you resumed bobbing your head to suck on his digits.

"that's a good girl" he smirked in approval as he pushed his fingers inside of you, leaving you breathless.

"so wet for me" he murmured, kissing your neck as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, curling them just to the right spot "Such a good slut"

Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head with every movement of his skilled fingers, but you still tried to focus on your task, although his sucking on your neck really didn't help.

"aw, you're already coming aren't you" he cooed, feeling you tighten around him "poor baby" he continued, raising his head to look at you.

"you think you deserve to cum?" he asked, fastening his pace and causing your knees to buckle.

You eagerly nodded, giving him your best doe eyes

Yes I do, please,is what you would have said, if your mouth hadn't been so busy at the moment.

"yes? That's what you think?"

you nodded again

"We'll I don't" his movements cruelly came to a stop "all that teasing... that's not what good girls do now, do they?" he asked, his fingers leaving both your cunt and mouth.

"please" you begged, eyes suddenly teary

he chuckled "That's a sight I thought I'd never see, you begging me"

You wanted to punch him, but god, did you also want to come.

"please sodo" you prayed, bringing your hands to the tent in his pants "please" you breathed

"oh is that what you want? My cock?"

you nodded

"how come you don't use that mouth of yours when you should?"

"yes, sorry, yes, please fuck me"

"I don't know..." he taunted, but this time, you were ready to fight back.

"I know you want to" you spoke sultrily, slowly getting rid of your shirt "I know you've been dreaming about it since I first joined the band" You unhooked your bra and let it fall to your feet before slowly starting to stoke his erection "I know yo-"

You couldn't finish your sentence as he had gripped your hair, forcing your head up to look at him.

"You really are a fucking brat y'know" he grunted, suddenly turning you so that your head was pressed against the door "can't keep that mouth of yours shut for the life of you" he growled, as he undid his zipper.

His hand on your head traveled to the back of your neck, keeping you still, as his other hand gripped his cock and positioned it at your entrance.

"I'll see how you do with my cock deep inside you" he smirked, pushing into you without any warning.

"fuck" you screamed at the stretch. As much as he had gotten you ready, it still hurt deliciously.

" 'S too big for you?" he taunted, rolling his hips "I thought more of you sweetheart"

"shut up" you moaned, "just-please fucking move"

"don't have to ask twice" he snickered, as he started fucking you at a brutal pace.

"f-fuck- 'feels so-so good" you cried out, letting him use you like a doll.

You could feel him everywhere

"Yeah? Phantom makes you cry like this too, Swiss, any of the others?"

"So jealous..." you smiled, watching him from the corner of your eye.

He grunted as he slapped your ass in response "You really just can't help it, can you?" he asked, the hand on the back of your neck moving to the front of it and squeezing it tight.

A fire spread over your body, as a wave of pleasure took over you.

"look at you" he mocked "Finally fucking quiet" he murmured, bending down to whisper in your ear as his thrust didn't give signs of slowing "and all it took was my cock in your pussy and my hand around your throat" he bit your earlobe, making you cry out even louder "If I'd known, I would have done this a long time ago. Would have saved me so many headaches..."

And once again, the urge to punch him was overtaken by the need to come.

You were a mess. The only sound your throat could make were shameless moans as he pounded into you like it was his life-long duty to split you in fucking half.

"Such a good little slut for m-

A knock at the door distracted the both of you, but he didn't stop whatsoever.

"I FORGOT MY PHONE IN THERE!"

It was Swiss

"WE'RE BUSY!" Sodo yelled back, starting to fuck you harder again

"YEAH, I CAN HEAR. BUT I REALLY NEED IT"

A loud moan climbed your throat as Sodo's thumb found your clit.

You had a suspicion that was exactly his goal.

"GO THE FUCK AWAY"

"MAN C'MON I'M HAPPY YOU FINALLY FUCKED BUT I STILL NEED MY FUCKING PHONE"

You would have laughed if you hadn't been so cock drunk

"I SWEAR SWISS, IF YOU DON'T WALK AWAY RIGHT NOW I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU"

"FINE, BUT YOU OWE ME"

"WHATEVER, JUST GO!"

"I AM"

Your moans had gotten louder in the meantime, and your legs were shaking as your orgasm approached rapidly.

"Fuck- I can feel you squeezing me sweetheart" he groaned "you wanna cum?"

"Please" was all you could muster

"scream my name as loud as you fucking can, ok?"

You nodded,

"good girl" he kept his pace "Good. fucking. girl"

And at that, a wildfire ignited in your body as your orgasm took over every inch of your being.

You quite literally screamed his name as you came, and just as you started to recover from the life-changing climax, you felt him still inside of you, as thick ropes of his come filled you up to the brim.

He pulled out of you and all you could do was smile as you turned to him.

"swiss is pissed"

"yeah well, I don't give a shit, I just had the best fuck of my life"

"you'll have to make it up to him"

"I have no idea how"

"I do"

"do tell"

And at that, you giggled, as you raised yourself on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear

"we should let him join next time"

#sodo x reader #sodo ghoul #Sodo ghoul x reader #phantom ghoul #swiss ghoul #the band ghost #Sodo ghoul smut #ghost the band #nameless ghoul x reader

[hazelfoureyes]

Ok I need a Lucifer x Reader fic based on Griftwood by ghost pretty please ( just listen if you haven’t heard it you’ll understand)

Listen, I went the opposite direction I think you wanted? Lol gonna work on brevity and get more snack sized smut out on weekdays and entrees on he weekends

[Warnings/Promises: snack sized, Lucifer x GN!AngelReader, lil smut smut, Fuck Sera, Luci corrupts absolutely, all hail dat dick, sacrilegious as fuck]

🫸🏼minors DNI🫷🏼

Lucifer avoided the heavenly embassy for obvious reasons. The vast halls, the empty and useless pews, it was, in a word, 

“Creepy,” He hissed. 

He was surprised to find the reception desk manned. Very rarely did heaven actually send anyone down to hell. Oh, wait.

You were stunned already to see Lucifer, so when he poked your nose you let out a tiny squeal.

“Oh shit! You’re real!” Lucifer took a step back, “Sorry about that! Not used to an … actual person.” He gave a little bow, “Forgive me?”

The fact is no one wanted to go to hell for desk duty, so the job was actually a punishment reserved for the most misbehaved. You had to intentionally set fire to Sera’s robes to get that severe of a scolding. She was reluctant, but it had been threatened (promised) to you last time you (intentionally) caused trouble. Rumors were abuzz about Lucifer, and you just had to see for yourself what the Great Big Boss of Hell was like.

Rosey cheeks, bright sharp smile. He didn’t look as scary as you had imagined. You expected a seven foot eight inch tall behemoth with fire pouring from his mouth and blood stained horns.

The devil, the real one, looked quite sweet.

A tiny existential crisis washed over you. Maybe there was a reason they didn’t want people down here. Why they made it sound oh-so-terrible.

“You still in there?” He leaned over the counter, tapping at your forehead. Your hands flew up, capturing his finger and bringing it down.

Warm. 

He froze, a little shocked you would touch him. Your smile went crooked, cheeks blushed. 

“Uhhh you good?” He pointed with his free hand to where you still gripped his finger. You nodded, a hum of confirmation. The blush rose up until you were fully red in the face.

The realization struck Lucifer like heavenly lightning, “Oooh, I see what’s going on here.” A wicked smirk taking you by surprise. “Did you want to meet me, little one?”

You broke out into a sweat, “Yes.”

Lie! Why didn’t you lie?!

He leaned over the counter, “Did you do something bad to get sent here?” Was there fire behind his eyes?

Uneven breaths, “… yes.”

Lucifer’s knee came up and over as he crawled onto the desk, “Should the King of Hell reward you for such bad deeds?” His eyes had gone red now, your hand still on his finger.

Your knees began to shake, “Y-yes.”

His face was inches from yours when your legs gave out, both of you falling to the floor.

Horns tall, yellow pupils dilated as he straddled you. “I think you’ll find I’m a generous ruler.”

It made sense. As Lucifer bent you over the reception desk and fucked you from behind, you could completely understand why they made this job posting sound horrid. Heaven would be empty if every winner could freely interact with Lucifer. You’d damn humanity too, if that was the cost. His hips snapped against your ass with divine determination, sweet praises on his forked tongue. 

The sounds of your gasps and his skin on yours echoed through the pristine white and gold halls. Like a pastor giving his sermon, he made the most delicious promises as you bent at the altar. 

Could heaven hear you? Your chants of “God, Oh God,” shifting to, “Lucifer! Luci—fer”, when one of his hands came down, fingers stroking your heat?

“What do you pray for, my curious Angel?” He growled, a flame you couldn’t see licking past his lips. “I’ll grant you anything”

Your cheek was sliding across the marble, small line of drool smearing on your face. Claws raked down your back, the stimulation making you shake.

Your fingers reached for his thighs, failing to take purchase. Lucifer took both of your wrists in one hand and held them at the small of your back for leverage. Your legs bent up, toes curling as you came around his sweetly punishing cock.

Taking a few deep breaths, you rolled your hips back against him, “More.”

Lucifer laughed and lifted one foot onto the desk to add more force behind his thrusts, “Say please.”

am I too horny? No. No, the cardiologist is wrong.

╭──────༺♡̶༻──────╮ Masterlist ╰──────༺♡̶༻──────╯

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list): @cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot

#lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader #lucifer smut #lucifer x you #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin lucifer #gender neutral insert #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n #the band ghost #ghost

[rafeysdoll]

warnings: request can be found here. established relationship, size difference/ kink, public sex, light degradation, rafe’s bandmates make inappropriate comments about reader, lmk if i missed anything

you were sitting comfortably on rafe’s lap, giggling at the random jokes his friend had been making. you were lost in the moment, trying your hardest to get along with his bandmates. you didn’t even really pay much attention to the way rafe squeezed your hips and pushed you closer to his chest, a warning sign. you had brushed it off with the thought he was only being affectionate.  

but when rafe heard his “friend” whisper to another on how he thinks he could convince rafe to share you and corrupt you to their own groupie, he lost it. quickly standing up and dismissing you both, dragging you by your forearm. 

“where we going?” you question, following right behind him like a lost puppy, the sound of your kitten heels hitting the floor echoing through the walls. “gonna fuck you where everyone can hear,” he spits out, making you freeze and pull your arm back in a act of ‘shyness’.

 “papi-i-i don’t be gross!” his vulgar words make you whine, but you’d be lying if it didn’t make a flood of arousal escape you. 

he reaches for the back of your neck, tugging you along. “don’t play hard to get, now. hurry up,” his tone firm, leading you to the restroom closest to the practice room.

rafe bent halfway you over the counter and lifted up your skirt, shaking his head. “and you wanted to act like you didn’t want it, real funny.” he chuckles mockingly, staring at the dark wet patch on your panties.  

you only whimper, wiggling your butt side to side against him. “couldn’t help it,” you mewl pathetically. 

he straightens you up slightly to move his hands downwards, placing his hand over your clothed clit, making harsh circles against it. you buckle immediately, a pained cry going past your clear gloss enhanced lips. 

you place your hand over his, whimpering and bucking your cunt against it. “ohh, papiii.” 

“mm there’s my sweet girl, little prissy act took you away from me for a second, huh?” he grips your jaw with his free hand, forcing you to look at yourself withering under his touch. 

you thrash your head, trying to close your eyes, whining when his hold tightens. “nah ma, how else you gonna see how quick you let yourself go to me?” 

you peek slowly at yourself, the sight only adding to your horniness. he looked so beautiful you thought— his tall, muscular figure standing behind you, dwarfing you. 

you try to bite your lips to hold back the noises clawing at your throat. the pressure of the fabric and rafe’s fingers had on your pulsing bud was pure magic. 

in about five more minutes, rafe was three fingers deep in your weeping hole, your underwear clenched in your fist. you wouldn’t even say your legs were holding you up with the way they wobbled, but rafe instead.  it was impossible to not have the feeling like you were the only girl in the world when he touched you like this. 

but what is it that they say? good things don’t last forever? that’s exactly what it felt like in this case when rafe suddenly pulled out his fingers from where you ached for him most. 

“papi!!” you complain, turning around swiftly and smacking his chest in pure sexual frustration. your poor hole clenched around emptiness. “shhh. watch yourself, before i just use your mouth instead. don’t be greedy.” he warns, placing his hands at the bottom of your ass to lift you up onto the counter.

you hold yourself from making any snarky remark, just wanting him to fill you up with your most favorite thing in the world. “‘m sorry, ‘m sorry,” you whisper as he unbuckles his belt and tugs his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. 

“so pretty,” you praise, making him chuckle while he starts stroking his half hard cock. “think it’s pretty now ma? jus’ wait and see how much��prettier it’ll look with your cum all over it.” 

you leave the bathroom with shaky legs, rafe‘s arm around your waist helping you walk. if it wasn’t clear what was going on inside the restroom with the loud moans of rafe’s name pairing with the sound of rapid skin slapping, your swollen lips and mascara smears underneath your eyes along with rafe’s messy hair and small scratches on his neck gave it away. 

rafe’s bandmates avoided any eye contact, cheeks flushed. he was glad, those fucks. 

he thinks he made it real clear who fucks you only. “wave goodbye, doll, wouldn’t wanna be rude, hm?” he’s taking advantage of your ‘one track mind’ that focuses on just him. the same mindset you always get after a good fuck. 

“w-what? oh.. yea!” your brain catches up, waving to them. “bye everyone!” you cheer, blush evident in your cheeks as you walk out with rafe. 

#band drummer!rafe #rafe ౨ৎ #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fic #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey fanfiction #outerbanks smut #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks fic #rafe cameron thoughts #outer banks x reader

[sink-me-in-your-ocean]

𝔊𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔬𝔫𝔰 II

How would the Ghouls & Copia manhandle you when you’re being naughty?

Prompt by the illustrious @endhisbloodlineinmyesophagus

NSFW/Suggestive below the cut.

Copia:

At first, he doesn’t realize why you’re doing what you’re doing

But then he puts the pieces together, and it makes his hands twitch

He makes you lay across his knees, never needing to ask more than once

He’s going to spank you with his gloved hands

He makes you count each one

“How many was that?”

“Five.” 

“You’re not counting properly, either that or you’re lying intentionally. I have no idea why you’d do such a thing.”

“I’d never say less with the intention of you giving me more on purpose.”

“I’m beginning to think these punishments aren’t working on you anymore, amore. Let’s try something else...”

-

Swiss:

Won’t hesitate to put you on a leash when you step out of line

When a leash won’t work he’ll resort to other methods

Ties. You. Down.

He will step back to admire his handiwork on you, after a moment of staring he forgets your transgressions because of how good you look tied up

He’s lost in the sauce

“Sweet fucking hells, you’ve never looked better.”

The gag in your mouth keeps you from speaking.

“Remind me, what were you doing that was so bad earlier?”

“Hrmph - ” The sound was muffled.

“Shhh, don’t talk with your mouth full. Now just stay right there.”

-

Phantom:

When you act up, it flips a switch in his brain

Picks you up with ease from the side, lifting you bridal style into his arms

The tightness of his grip on you speaks volumes to his possessiveness 

He scans for an unoccupied room, hells, even a dark corner to take you

He needs you immediately and he knows you need him just as badly

“Oh you’ve done it now, you’ve got my attention, so let’s go.”

“Phantom, slow down!”

“No. You fired me up now you can bring me back down.” He sets you down once you’re behind closed doors. “On your fucking knees.”

You kneel in front of him, eager to please him after misbehaving.

“Oh fuck, yes, such a good girl, just like that.”

-

Dewdrop/Sodo:

Misbehaving is a broad term to this ghoul, in fact, he likes when you’re naughty

Except when you give any attention to his brothers

Now that is a sure-fire way to pour gasoline on his flames

He comes up behind you when you least expect it (see where this is going?)

His long fingers wrap around your throat, pressing intentionally on your arteries, your head swooning in seconds

“Don’t go all limp on me yet.”

“But, Dew -” you whimper.

“Come on, you know exactly what you do to me. It was intentional, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Now I’m going to be very intentional with you. I’m not letting you out of my sight the rest of the night.”

-

Rain:

He has infinite patience, at least until you vex him

And boy howdy, once you’ve crossed that bridge you’d better be prepared

There’s a determined look in his eye as he stalks towards you

He grabs your wrist, and even if you try to pull away, it’s impossible, his grip strength is too much

He drags you with him through the nearest corridor to a quiet space

“You’re going to be nice and quiet now for me.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll make you.”

His hand clamps over your lips shockingly fast, leaving you a thin line to breathe from your nose.

“I love seeing you get a taste of your own medicine. Don’t like it when I match your energy? Don’t misbehave.”

-

Mountain:

Sits and watches stoically as you make a fool out of yourself 

Doesn’t need to say anything

Doesn’t need to do anything, but he does

He easily scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder

He could spank you from here, but he prefers his partner underneath him (If you know what I mean)

“You do have to do all of that to get my attention, you know.” He plops you on his bed, climbing on top of you.

“I know, but maybe I’m looking for bad attention.”

“Yeah?”

You whine and writhe underneath him as he smacks (not hard) the thickness of your outer thigh.

“That’s what you want? Just ask next time, little villainess.”

-

Just da bois this time, but if you’d like me to include the ghoulettes pls just comment, I’m happy to oblige a fellow ghoulette lover! ( *︾▽︾)

Ghoulette Version Here!

#the band ghost #the band ghost x reader smut #the band ghost x reader #swiss ghoul #swiss ghoul x reader #cardinal copia #papa copia #copia x reader #phantom ghoul #phantom ghoul x reader #dewdrop x reader #dewdrop ghoul #sodo x reader #sodo ghoul #rain ghoul #rain ghoul x reader #mountain ghoul #mountain ghoul x reader #nameless ghouls #nameless ghoul x reader #aeon ghoul

[chosocutegf]

band au!Choso x fem!reader

cw: smut towards the end

(my other fic about band au!Choso)

bassist!Choso who has tattoos, piercings, smokes and wears all black so anyone who sees him for the first time is immediately scared of him. He goes around not giving a fuck about anyone, and doesn’t look at anyone in the eyes, even if they are trying to have a conversation with him.

bassist!Choso who only cares about his music and his band. Anyone who sees him on the stage can say that he is really in love with what he is doing and his instrument, it’s like he gets sucked in from it anytime he takes it in his hands. He has a lot of fans who always try to get his attention, but he dismisses them the moment they approach him.

bassist!Choso that when he plays, his gaze is mostly on his bass and his head nods in time with the notes he is playing. Even when he has to sing the chorus, his gaze is distant or his eyes are closed. No one will catch him smiling at anyone, but rest assured, that whenever he is playing, a little smirk is on his face.

bassist!Choso who never looks up from his instrument and never looks at the audience, you start to assume that he is there just from the music and doesn’t really care about who is in front of him. You are mesmerised from the way his slender fingers move over the four strings, fast as lightning. So when you’re entranced watching him, he finally looks up and it feels like the world just turned upside down.

bassist!Choso who actually misses a note when he sees you for the first time in the front row; no one noticed but he did, and he can’t help but furrow his brows and immediately look away. He is angry at himself for making a mistake in that very moment, while the most beautiful girl is looking at him. On the other side, you think he was disgusted by you from his reaction, so you’re quick to look away, your smile fading.

bassist!Choso who can’t seem to forget you and is confused because now a part of his brain isn’t occupied anymore by his music and his bass, but you. He tries to ignore whatever is that he is feeling, but his eyes widen when he sees you at a local pub another day, exactly the same day he is playing with his band. He wonders if you are there to see one of his band mates.

bassist!Choso who is teased from his band members because he looks distracted and he has never been that way. He is always in his own world, listening to music or playing his bass, even in his breaks between concerts. So when they see a hint of interest on his face that isn’t for music, they understand that something happened.

bassist!Choso who notices you again in the first row for the third time and when he sees you observing his fingers instead of the main singer, he thinks you are checking the way he plays because you remember the mistake he did the first time. He is naive, and doesn’t think that you are looking at him because you’re attracted to him.

bassist!Choso who thinks about you the moment he gets off stage, wondering how can a girl be so beautiful. He freezes on his spot the moment he sees you backstage, laughing softly at what one of his bandmates said. He is even more shocked to discover that you’re a friend of them, and that’s why you are usually at the concerts. He finds out that you've been going to see them play for some time already, and he is stunned when he realizes that you have seen him play more times than he thought.

bassist!Choso who is now looking forward to the next concert because he knows you’ll be there. Everyone is shocked when they see him waving at you, and actually giving attention to someone outside his instrument.

bassist!Choso who tries to ignore his band mates teasing him about you, because they understood that something is different when it comes to you. Choso denies everything, and walks away from them just in time to hide his ears getting red.

bassist!Choso who doesn’t understand what he is feeling when he gets down the stage and sees you talking and laughing again with his band mate aka your friend. His stomach tightens while he suddenly feels insecure about himself. He stares at the two of you until you turn to him, feeling his gaze on you. He walks away before you can get to him, suddenly angry at himself for thinking that he could ever be with a girl like you. On the outside, it seems like he is trying to avoid you, his usually aloof expression changed into something like disgust.

bassist!Choso who gets home and doesn’t understand why his cock is hard. He was still angry at himself, but mostly he couldn’t stop thinking about you and wishing that he was the one you were smiling at like that. He touches himself while thinking about you, your smile, your laugh and the way you looked in that little dress.

bassist!Choso who is stunned the next time you go to one of his band’s concert and sees you walking towards him shyly while smiling. He is quiet as he observes you, feeling his mind short-circuit when you look up at him with your soft eyes and realises that’s the first time you two are alone together. You notice his cheeks having a pinkish shade, not knowing that it’s because he can’t stop imagining having you under him, in less formal circumstances.

“Hi,” you say with your soft voice, smiling widely at Choso. His eyes widen and he doesn’t know how to answer you. He is lost thinking that your voice is the most beautiful melody he has ever heard. “Hey,” he mutters, blinking; his voice is low and husky, and you can’t help but recognise that there is a hint of softness in it. “So… uhm, I was wondering if one of these days… maybe, and only if you can of course, you wanted to go have a coffee… with me,” you mumble, your eyes looking around the room and careful to never meet his indifferent ones, while your voice lowers as you go on with the sentence, getting more and more insecure.

Choso’s eyes widens even more at your question, because… are you really asking him out on a date? The sweetest girl ever? He only cared about his band and bass, but in that moment he thought that you would soon get on top of all that.

bassist!Choso who you discover is actually the shyest guy on the earth, and his aloof attitude is because of it. He is actually very thoughtful and intelligent and loves to talk about his passion about music, but will also listen attentively when you talk about your things. He actually thinks that he would rather hear you talk about your life than him tell you about his music.

bassist!Choso who always teases you, loving the reactions he can get out of you. He does all those things that clearly show that he is in love with you: he ruffles your hair, squeezes your thighs, jokes with you etc… You’re both obvious of your feelings, but everyone outside understands that there is something going on between you two.

bassist!Choso who does anything to impress you and always gets so excited when he sees you in the crowd, happily cheering for him in the front row. Everyone is impressed by how he seems to be more daring, going around the stage when he can and doesn’t keep his gaze fixed on his bass anymore but rather on you.

bassist!Choso who confesses his feeling for you through a song. You see him finally smiling on the stage, and he is actually very nervous to do this in front of everyone. However, he can’t hold back anymore, so he makes sure that when he sings those words, your gazes are fixed on each other.

“Even if

you left me out here stranded

my feelings wouldn’t change a bit

You know how I feel, baby

Infinite

The love I have for you, a diamond couldn’t put a dent in it”

bassist!Choso who runs to you the moment he gets down the stage, ignoring everyone else when he knows that you’re waiting for him backstage. Your heart is beating so fast that you are scared that he might hear it when he hugs you and holds you tightly against him.

“You were really good out there,” you tease him, pulling back from his embrace. A little grin tugs at the corner of his lips and his brows rise, “yeah? Did you also like how I confessed my feelings for you?”. Your breath hitches at his confirmation, and you can swear that your heart is going to give out before a nervous chuckle leaves your lips and you talk, “especially that moment… you stole the words from my mouth”.

You’ve never seen him smile so broadly after your words, but you’re interrupted gaping when he kisses you. His band mates gasp when they see it, before screaming and cheering for you two.

bassist!Choso who is the sweetest boyfriend you could ever imagine. From the outside, he looks like a bad guy with all his piercings and tattoos, but in reality he is just a silly guy and a nerd for music. He loves to see you in the crowd during his concerts, looking at him. But he loves even more when he finally gets you on his bed, laying naked on your back while he fucks you.

bassist!Choso who fucks you slow and nice, dragging his big cock inside you lazily, making you feel every inch of him and his veins. His swollen tip always hits your sweet spot making you let out those precious little moans that he knows he will put in a song so everyone can hear the sweet melody that you are.

bassist!Choso who teases you on purpose when he is practicing with his bass, knowing that you love when his fingers nonchalantly move on the four strings. He makes it even harder for you when he makes sure to not wear a t-shirt, so you can see his toned chest and strong arms, his muscles flexing as he moves his fingers on the instrument.

“Cho,” you whine, squirming on your seat, and feeling the waves of the bass hit your core. Your boyfriend glances up at you with a mock innocent expression, and you almost faint when he continues playing even if his gaze is on you, “what, princess?”.

You pout slightly and crawl closer to him, nuzzling against his shoulder before cupping his cheek and pecking his lips, “stop teasing me,” you murmur, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. He raises his brows casually but he can’t hold back the grin that spreads on his lips, “doing what?”. You roll your eyes at his words, and you’re quick to move his hands away from his bass, putting them on your body, making sure that he gives all the attention you deserve and not to that stupid instrument.

bassist!Choso who knows how to use his fingers in the proper way. He always makes sure to make you cum on them at least twice before doing anything else. He likes to prep you for his cock, because he knows he is big and you can’t fit him if your pussy isn’t properly stretched.

bassist!Choso who loves to see you with his bass, trying to learn how to play it. He teaches you, placing your fingers the right way, his bigger ones caressing your skin. His special way to teach you is to sit behind you, his fingers playing with your sweet pussy while he guides you with his voice, clicking his tongue when you almost drop his instrument.

bassist!Choso who scares anyone but you. And he still doesn’t give a fuck about anyone else, but you make the exception. He only cares about his music and his band… and you, only you.

i’m probably gonna make a part 2 because this wasn’t enough and i barely scratched the surface (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

(thanks Tyler The Creator for the lyrics)

(m.list)

#choso #jjk #choso x reader #jjk x reader #choso smut #choso kamo #choso fluff #choso x female reader #choso x y/n #jjk choso #choso jjk #choso x you #jujutsu kaisen choso #choso x chubby reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk x plus size reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #.band!au choso ᯓ★ #𐙚

[celestie0]

choso x reader | punk rock au [18+]

in another life ch.1 cupid's arrow

ᰔ pairing. punk rock au - bass player! choso x reader (f)

ᰔ summary. you and choso were lovers in college when him and his rock band were just nobodies with nothing but a dream, but when his band strikes a deal with an up-and-coming record label in tokyo, you make the tough decision to break up with him since you couldn’t go with him to the city. flash forward seven years, his band is the biggest rock band in the world, n you move from the countryside to tokyo with your fiancé nanami to start your new life together. but in the heart of the city, home to many, there’s one person there that still has the power to turn your whole life upside down. and when you run into him again after all those years, feelings you didn’t know were still haunting you come crashing back all at once, and you’re not sure what it is you want from your life anymore.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fluff, angst, smut, punk rock au, partying, drinking/alcohol, weed usage, cigarette usage, romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, second chance romance, time skips, love triangle, bad boy choso, slight age gap (five yrs), longterm pining, jealousy, messy decisions, you know the drill

ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 6)

ᰔ words. 10.2k

a/n. hellooooo aaa welcome to my new choso fic :'') i'm so excited for this one! i'm just laughing at how i cannot just stick to a oneshot idea and somehow end up planning out a fullblown series instead hahah. but anyways, i hope you enjoy! thank you to everyone that wanted to be on the taglist, i'm really looking forward to diving into this story. see you at the bottom!!

alsooo my m00tie @sykosugu and i decided to post for our fics at the same time hehe she has a really spicy suguru x reader fic called 'on the run' that i highly recommend so go check that out as well if you're interestedd <33

nav. ch1 :: ch2 (pending)

“and there was something about you that now, i can’t remember. it’s the same damn thing that made my heart surrender.”

present day. summer.

“We’re gonna miss you so, so, so much, love,” Mai groans, pulling you in towards her for a hug and you reciprocate with fondness.

Another pair of arms wraps around you, grip much tighter and you protest through a difficult breath. “Do you really have to go?” Nobara asks.

You tap on the skin of her arm, urging her to ease her hold in this group hug, and she finally relents and the three of you pull apart from one another. There’s a slight gasp from your lips as you breathe in fresh summer air. “I do, Nobie, I’m sorry. Nanami said it’s the final decision.”

You’re standing on hot concrete in front of a little countryside cottage that you’ve called home for years, but will soon just be a memory. You know which light switches illuminate corners of the rooms, and which creaking wood panels on the floor to avoid when looking for a midnight snack. It’s where you spent years studying for finals, arguing with your mom, learning how to care for Ms. Roxie, and it’s where you fell in love. More than once.

Your parents gave the house to you and Nanami once the two of you became engaged, but that blessing was soon to be given away, as Nanami received news six months ago that he was being promoted and relocated to Tokyo. Now, you have two bags in your hands, your purse slung around your shoulder, and a suitcase filled to the brim with the life you’ve tried to stuff in it. Your taxi driver has the other suitcase, because there were some things you couldn’t leave behind after all, and he’s putting it in the trunk right now.

“Nanami is so rude to take you from us,” Mai sighs, “but at least you’ll be one of those cool city girls now. So scary. I heard trends change faster there than the leaves on Rowan tree during spring.”

Nobara lets out a gasp that’s only half exaggerated. “No way! It can’t be!”

The taxi driver calls after you with a quick question, to which you answer back with a shout from where you stood. A quick glance at your watch tells you it’s time to get moving, as you’ll be taking a connecting train once you reach Tokyo that you need to be on time for. And then he’ll be there. Nanami will be waiting for you there, to lead you into the life that he’s started to make for the two of you.

“I’ll call so very often,” you promise the two of them, “and I will miss you two so very often as well.” Tears prickle in your eyes, and it seems to be contagious as they shimmer in Nobara and Mai’s eyes as well. Another group hug takes place between the three of you, harsh sun beating down with birds chirping in the distance as you try to take in the last few moments you’ve been granted of this place. “Take care of Roxie for us,” you say through a sniffle, “to you, it may seem like you’re only the bearer of food for her, but I promise that little kitty will love you two like no other.”

They both nod at you as you pull away, and you swipe at a tear that rolls down your cheek as you roll your suitcase down the pebbled walkway of your now past home.

The taxi driver helps hoist your suitcase into the trunk and places your other two bags into the back seat. You take a seat at the front with him, clicking the passenger seatbelt, and you roll down the window to wave bye with blown kisses as the taxi driver pulls away from the rocky mud road with crunching under the wheels. You watch Mai and Nobara and your home in the side view mirror until they’re no longer visible, but their voices of farewell linger in the air for a moment more.

“Alright, ma’am, bound for Tokyo!” your taxi driver chirps, his rough-looking hands opening and closing a few times to stretch out the joints of his fingers before tightly gripping onto the steering wheel again.

“Yes, Tokyo,” you murmur softly, gaze set out the window of the familiar street shops and stretches of patchy trees you know you’ll miss once you’re in the city.

“What’s your name?” the man asks, a thick country accent rolling off his tongue, with a sweetness like honey.

You turn your head to look at him more closely. The hair of his eyebrows is bushy, somewhat unkempt, and he has thick lines across his cheeks and forehead that can only mean that he’s lived a lot of life.

You tell him your name and he nods slowly as the two of you stop at a through road, a few school children hurrying past before he turns right onto the main road. “That’s a nice name. Which one of your parents gave it to ya?”

“Um. Both of them?”

He lets out a noise of acknowledgement, and doesn’t ask a further question. You smooth out the fabric of your long skirt with a hand, then toy with the band of your simple watch. Just when you think a comfortable silence has fallen between the two of you, and you think you have the luxury of losing yourself in your thoughts with sights beyond the polished glass window, the man speaks up again.

“Alright then, miss, tell me a story.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Pardon?”

“We’re gonna be spendin’ three hours in this car together, darlin’. It’s either I talk your ear off or you talk mine off,” he says, broad shoulders rolling backwards once as he gets comfortable in his driving position.

“Uh…do we need to talk at all?”

He glances over at you for a moment. The car wheels grind over rocks on gravel road near an agricultural field, and his fingers flex once again on the wheel. “You younger generations are so stuck in your own worlds. Entertain some conversation with the poor old taxi driver, will ya?”

You sigh, folding your hands in your nap neatly. “Alright. I don’t really have many stories to tell, though.”

“A young lady like you, packin’ up her whole life to move to a big city? I beg to differ,” he counters.

His words have you tucking your bottom lip under your teeth, a few blinks of your eyelids to process his observation of you. Your mind searches for stories to tell. Maybe that moment last week when you watched a momma duck waddle across a bridge with all seven of her baby ducklings. Or maybe you could tell him about that time you drove your car into a ditch the night of the comet festival and you swear you saw a UFO in the sky. The story you’ve been telling a lot lately, though, was the one of how Nanami proposed.

But then there’s a different story that comes to mind. With hazy images of blinding stage lights in dim venues, cigarette smoke wafting through the air, sounds of bass and drums and cheers. Smell of dry grass, the feeling of your back against a blanket, heart beating fast underneath the stars in front of a twinkling lake. And forever in your memory, the patterns of his inked skin.

“You got a boyfriend?” the man asks, suddenly.

“Are…are you hitting on me?” you ask awkwardly.

“Oh, no, ma’am,” he shakes his head, lifting his left hand up from the steering wheel and turning the back of it to face you. A silver ring adorning his fourth finger shimmers from the reflected sunlight through the window. “Happily married. Been with my missus for 22 years.”

A small smile makes its way onto your face as you relax into your seat a little, feeling calmer. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry for assuming. And I have a fiancé, actually.”

“Oh?” he chirps, stealing a quick glance at your left hand that was still folded neatly underneath your right one in your lap. “How come I’m not seein’ a ring?”

You tug at the small chain around your neck, a chill felt as diamond stone and cold metal drags against the skin of your sternum before you pull out your own promise of marriage, dangling it in front of your chest for him to steal another glance at. “I wear it around my neck. I’m a pottery teacher, so I usually take it off when showing my students any demos. I figured if I kept taking it off like that, I might lose it, so I just wear it around my neck now.”

“That’s interesting,” he comments, “It’s a real nice ring, that’s for sure! Tell me about this man you’re marryin.”

Your heart aches at the thought of Nanami. It’s been six months since you’ve seen him, since he relocated to Tokyo first, and you’ve missed him every day since. You were in the middle of the academic year at the elementary school you taught at, so they asked you to stay back, but Nanami had already accepted the promotion, thus the two of you made the decision that he would move to Tokyo first to get situated and you’d soon follow in the summer. It was a lot of stress to handle as just one person; searching for apartments on top of managing the heightened expectations from his boss from his new role, but he did it all without a complaint. Because he loves you, and that’s who Nanami was. Someone who would move mountains for you. He’s worked hard to make a place for you in Tokyo, one to call home.

“He really loves me,” you say to the man, softly.

“And you love him?”

“So much.”

“Was he your first love?”

Your breath catches in your throat from his question, a small chill running down your spine. The silence that settles could’ve lasted two seconds or two centuries, and you never would’ve known.

You lick your lips before answering. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Hmm…” the man hums. Bumpy roads are now smooth as he turns onto properly laid roads, the exit from your town onto intercity roads. “I can tell.”

“You can tell?” you ask, skeptic in your tone as you tilt your head at him.

“I can tell from your voice that there was someone else before. Someone who meant a whole lot to you, but he went away for some reason,” he says.

You’re not sure why there’s a lump in your throat from his words, a heavy thing with so much substance that it threatens to weigh your heart as well. Your eyes study the side of his face. “You’re getting all of that from my voice?”

The man’s expression is blank as if it were tabula rasa, something so different from the way you’ve felt for so long now, like your heart has been torn in two. There was something so tempting about it; the luxury of a clean slate. Of a new beginning. A fresh start. And it’s hard not to imagine how you would’ve painted things differently.

“Tell me about him,” the man says, the story he was looking for having been found. “Your first love.”

“He…” you start, shocked that you’re actually answering, but it’s like an invitation you can’t resist, “he was my first boyfriend…my first serious boyfriend. I met him the summer after high school. During a summer like this one.”

.

.

.

seven years ago. summer.

chapter 1. cupid’s arrow.

“C’mon, faster!” Mai exclaims, her hand wrapped around your wrist to tug you across the dim streets of downtown. 

“Just— wait— Mai, please, slow down,” you’re stumbling after her, feet failing to keep up, and you almost crash right into her when she comes to a sudden halt on the sidewalk.

“This is it,” she says, staring up at the sporadically blinking neon lights of what appears to be a small venue, black marquee letters that spell out Backseat Serenade Tonight @ 10pm stand out to you in a way that feels haunting. “We’re so late, let’s head inside.”

Mai drags you inside, and the security guy is less than thrilled by the commotion as he stands in front of closed double doors. You can feel the bass of music vibrating the walls, accompanied by loud shrill screams and chants coming from inside, and the red velvet flooring underneath your feet fuel you with static as you two approach the man dressed in full black.

Mai fumbles with her purse to pull out her phone, and the man scans the barcoded tickets on her screen before giving the two of you wristbands to wear and then he opens the door for the two of you.

The inside of the venue is small but packed, minimal lighting save for moving lights that illuminate the band on stage, but it’s even harder to see anything over the heads of people with their hands up in the air. Mai’s grip on your forearm is tight as she roughly weaves the two of you through the crowd, determined in her gait but you feel the need to apologize to the people she’s shoving in the process. You’re surprised at how fast the two of you make it to the front barricades, thanks to Mai’s nimbleness alone, and your eyes raise to the scene onstage through wafting smoke through the air.

“Alright, alright, alright,” one of the band members chimes right as the final instrumentals of the song begin to fade. His hair is a pale silver under dusty lighting, pushed up from out of his face by a black headband snapped to his forehead, and his eyes are distinctly blue. He has an electric guitar hanging from his neck by a thick black strap. He raises both of his hands up into the air, waving them down a few times to calm down the crowd, and there are scattered hushes surrounding you and Mai. “This is our last song, and we just want to thank you all so much for coming out tonight! This crowd’s the best we’ve ever had!” 

The people cheer in response as a light and relaxed melody begins to tune together from the instrumentals on stage. You hear Mai groan beside you. “What the fuck?! We missed the entire set?!” 

Your hands curl around the cold metal of the barricade dividers and your eyes sweep across the stage. There’s a man in the far back with short black hair, bouncing his leg up and down as he’s seated behind a drum set, fidgeting with wooden sticks in his hands, and you’re puzzled by the fact that he’s wearing a very poorly fitted suit onstage. Off to the right, a man with pink hair is messing with the headphones snapped to his ears in front of an electric keyboard, spread fingers pressing down on chords, and you can vaguely see the black nail polish at the tips of his fingers. A woman with mid length blonde hair and pink highlights stands at the front, her hand wrapped around the mic resting on top of the stand. She’s laughing, tipping her head back at something else the electric guitar player says over the mic, but you’ve drowned out the words because your eyes finally land on what’s directly in front of you.

With an almost bored expression on his face, a man stands with a matte black bass guitar hung from his neck as he has one foot up on the top of a subwoofer located flush to the edge of the stage. His hair is raven black, longer at the nape of his neck with shorter layers scattered, and tendrils fall over his face. There’s a glint to his polished black shoes off of where you’re standing, and he’s wearing tight black jeans that cling to the thick and lean muscles of his calves and thighs, with a leather belt fastened around the circumference of his hips. The shirt that’s tucked into his jeans is just as tight to his skin, and a small gasp leaves your lips when you take in the sight of his arms covered in intricate patterns of ink. His right arm is practically covered from the wrist all the way up to the cut of his short sleeve, likely beyond, and his left arm has ink traveling up to his forearm only, like he’s still working on mapping it all out. You watch the way his biceps flex as he bends his arms, bringing his hands up to his face to push his hair back, and your heart is keeping fast rhythm with the music. 

“Cho!” the woman at the front speaks into the mic, turning her head to look at this man who you’re sure is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. “You’ve hardly said a single word tonight, baby. Not that that’s unusual though. Why don’t you say a few words before we kick off the last song?”

A bunch of whoos!! and ahhhs!!! and yesss!!! scatter throughout the crowd in the form of cheers and you watch the man furrow his brows together, a scowl forming on his face. There’s a band of black underneath his eyes that runs across the bridge of his nose, with perpendicular lines resembling arrows running down his cheeks. Dark purple eyes that match the dark shadows around them glint under flickering stage lighting as he takes his foot off the speaker and walks a few steps backwards to position himself at his stationed mic. 

“Fine,” he says, and you’re watching the way his lips barely brush against the mic as he speaks, “This is our last song. It’s called Lost Cause. Enjoy. Or don’t. It’s up to you. Who the fuck am I to tell you what to do.”

There’s only a slight beat of silence from the crowd before they’re cheering again, while his band members just stare at him stunned. The white-haired electric guitarist yells into his mic something like  “THAT’S IT?!” before the drum player cuts him off with three taps of his sticks in the air, and then the song commences from them on practiced reflex. 

The energy from the crowd is loud in the last few minutes of the show, smoke rising in the air from the machines spread across the raised stage, and you can’t tear your eyes away from the bass player. You rest your forearms on the cold metal in front of you, the sight of Mai jumping up and down in your periphery as she headbangs and shakes her hair. 

The bass player’s eyes start to scan the venue within what seems to be the final chorus of the song, chin tipping up and fingers continuing to strum as he assesses the back of the crowd first, then gaze darting throughout the center, before he begins to study the front barricade. You watch his every movement, mapping the trail of his sight, and your heart skips a beat when those dark eyes finally fall on yours. 

His eyes briefly flicker to your left, to continue his study of the crowd, but it’s as if his brain just registered something with a delay, and he quickly moves his gaze back to you in a double take. His eyes widen, bored expression quickly turned into one of surprise with a glint to his pupils, and you swear you’ve been struck by an arrow to your heart.

“Yaaaay! Thank you everyone!” the woman at the front exclaims, pulling her mic from the stand to walk around to make work of the crowd. The white-haired man approaches the edge of the stage with a pleased grin on his face, high-fiving all of the outstretched arms, and the man at the keyboard simply waves a few times before incessantly tuning buttons on his headphones. Drum boy hasn’t stopped playing some sort of loud rhythm as an encore. Your sight is set back onto the bass player, and he’s looking off somewhere else now. Somewhere backstage. 

“Hey!” the white-haired man exclaims once he’s made it in front of the two of you. “Mai! You made it!”

She reaches out to grab his forearm, tugging down harshly so he’s stumbling and dropping one knee to the stage floor, kneeling. “Of course I was gonna make it! Thanks for the tickets,” she’s yelling over loud ambient cheers and music, “this is my friend y/n, by the way. Oh, and this is Gojo, he’s the guy I was telling you about.”

You nod at him, and try to accept his outstretched hand when someone bumps you from behind and your hand is in favor of stabilizing yourself over the divider instead.

You can barely hear the laugh from Gojo’s position on the raised stage. “Just meet us backstage! We can chat for a bit with proper introductions and all.”

As the crowd begins to dissipate with people moving through the sets of double doors out back, Gojo hops off stage to take you and Mai through a side door that leads into a hallway that lines the back of the stage. You look up into the high ceilings with metal structural poles banding between the walls, and the dim yellow lighting in small bulbs bolted to the walls like a runway remind you of movie theater exit routes.

“So, what’d you guys think of the show?” Gojo asks, his arms raised up and hands interlocked behind his neck in a casual-not-so-casual way as he sends the two of you a lazy look over his shoulder. 

“Well, we only made it for one song since miss barista over here was running late from her shift,” she sighs, whacking your arm once with the back of her hand. You glance down and realize you didn’t even have the time to take your frilled and wrinkled apron off. “But, from what we did get to hear, AMAZING! AWESOME! SPECTACULAR!”

Gojo is grinning wide as he turns around to face the two of you, continuing to walk but backwards as he slaps the raised hand that Mai had in the air for him. “I’m so glad, I felt the pressure to please was high since I’ve been hyping up our shows to you for so long.”

“We’ve only known each other for like two weeks.”

“I know. But PSYCH 210 lecture at the ass crack of dawn really brings two people together, y’know.”

Mai and Gojo continue to laugh and talk about random things college-related, and there’s a stirring feeling in your chest that you’re surrounded by people older and much more well-lived than you. You’ve just graduated high school, barely a few months ago, but Mai was a few years older than you, so any time she tries to introduce you to her college friends, you feel the need to perform or be someone that you’re not so they’ll like you, despite the fact that you’re aware of the fallacy in that. And tonight, that responsibility feels much more daunting for some reason.

There are voices heard further down the hall, and as you approach, you notice the drum guy, keyboard guy, and devilishly handsome bass guy are all loitering around in that area, along with a few other people they seemed to have invited backstage. 

Gojo walks up to them, grabbing onto the bass man’s hand firmly before patting him on the back, then slings his arms around the other two. “This is Higurama,” he says, rubbing the top of the black-haired guy’s head with the knuckles of his fist, “he does drums for us. And this is Sukuna,” he says, about to repeat the same gesture to the top of his head but his wrist is grabbed and twisted, “ow, fuck, fuck, fuck– sorry.” Sukuna lets go of his wrist, scowl dissipating into sadistic amusement, and Gojo’s holding his wrist, now slightly red from the burn, with a pout on his face. “He does the keyboard. And all the techno sounds. And some other stuff I’ve frankly no fucking clue about.”

The two of them acknowledge you and Mai, along with the few other people who Gojo seems to know as well, and then Gojo’s approaching the bass player again before resting his elbow up on his shoulder, leaning his weight onto him and the man just crosses his arms across his chest, sending Gojo a side-eye. “Mai, I think you two have met before, but this is Choso. Choso Kamo, our bass player. Best bass player I’ve ever known to be honest. Be careful though, he might bite you.”

Choso scowls, rolling his shoulder back once to get rid of Gojo’s resting elbow. His eyes are on yours, boring into you deep, and when he darts his tongue out briefly to wet his bottom lip, you finally notice the silver lip ring near the corner of his mouth. “Hi. Nice to meet you,” he says, hand outstretched and you shake it with a mention of your name to him. The skin on his fingers feel rough from play, a small sacrifice to pay for the talent he’s harnessed over the years from plucking at strings. His eyes sweep down you once. “Why are you dressed like Strawberry Shortcake?”

“I–” you start, glancing down at your attire and feeling the heat pool in your cheeks, “I just got off a work shift. I work at a cafe.”

“Oh,” he responds, and you notice his hand is still holding onto yours, Your eyes trail the patterns on his skin, visible in more detail up close, and you find yourself lost in every line and swirl and scale and skull and cross, the only thing breaking you out of your trance being Mai’s jab of her elbow to your ribcage.

You gasp, snatching your hand away from Choso, and when you look up at his face, there’s a hint of amusement on it. 

“Babes, he was asking you a question,” Mai says, looking between you and the man in front of you.

“Huh?” you ask, suddenly flustered and you swipe your palm down your work apron to wipe the sweat that begins to perspire at your palm from the lingering heat of his hand.

“I was asking if you liked the show,” Choso says, tilting his head to the side and now he’s allowing his eyes to travel all across you in any way he wants. 

“I loved it,” you respond, almost breathlessly, “it was great. I mean– we only saw, like, one song. But still, really amazing.”  

“Only one song?” Choso asks, his eyebrow raising, “that’s a shame. You’ve gotta come to more shows then.”

Before you can respond, there’s a feminine voice heard down the hallway, sounding an awful lot like the one echoing off the speakers inside the concert venue, and then the blond woman who was the lead singer of the band skips right up to the group formulating in this hallway before wrapping her arms around Choso’s neck and pulling him down towards her in a kiss.

You’re standing there stunned, eyes immediately averting from the scene of the two of them in front of you, but in the corner of your eye you can see his arm wrap around her waist briefly before he pulls her away from him, and the release of her lips from his makes a sound that for some reason creates a pit in your stomach.

“Cho, baby, I just had an insane conversation,” she says, still practically hanging from his neck as she stands on tiptoes, “with this record label guy. He’s apparently hot shit in Tokyo, and he wants to offer us this city gig ‘cause he thinks we’re a potential sign-on, and–”

Choso’s hand reaches to the back of his neck, gripping around her wrist to pull it apart from her other one, and then her arms fall to her sides and her heels flatten to the ground as she blinks up at him. “That’s cool, Sana, but can we talk about that later?”

Gojo’s arms cross his chest as he leans forward, glaring at the woman. “Yeah. And as a band, not just with your lover.”

Sana rolls her eyes and scoffs, placing curled hands low on her hips. “He’s not my lover, bitch. Unless he’s my lover like you’re lovers with a blunt on a sunday– sucked off in a car ‘cause you’ve got nothing better to do.”

“That’s offensive to both of us,” Gojo grumbles but Choso just sighs, unbothered, as he rubs at the back of his neck. He makes eye contact with you again, and his expression sobers as though he forgot for a second that you were still standing there. 

Sana turns to you and Mai. “Hi, I’m Sana, nice to meet you guys. Sorry, I thought you two were some of our other friends, otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed Cho in front of you. I hate PDA, trust me.” 

Mai lets out an awkward laugh as she shakes her hand, and you almost don’t want to shake her hand, but you do just to be polite.

“You didn’t hate PDA that one time I was about to bag the girl I’d been talking to for weeks and you decided to grind your sorry excuse of an ass right up against me in front of her,” Gojo grumbles.

She waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Whatever, she thought you were gay anyways. Would’ve done yourself a favor if you actually grabbed my ass.”

She ignores the insulted gesture Gojo makes, cutting off whatever words he was about to spew with words of her own. “What are you girls doing after this? We’re having a post-show party, you two should come.” She glances at you. “Uh, love, I’d ditch the apron though. Unless it’s, like, some sort of fetish for you.”

You’re defeated as your arms cross your torso to grip the hem of your apron and pull it up over your head, shaking your head a bit to allow your hair to fall back into place, and then you fold the frilly article of clothing neatly before hanging it over your arm. “It’s not,” you sigh, too exhausted to be subject to the title of your occupation anymore. A small flicker of your eyes to Choso tells you he’s staring at you.

Sana shrugs. “So you pretty ladies wanna come?”

Mai shakes her head. “No, sorry, my baby here,” she says, wrapping her arm around yours tightly, “just graduated high school recently, so she’s too young for a party. I’ve got a responsibility to look after her. And throwing her into a room full of sleazy drunk punk college dudes is the opposite of looking after her.”

Sukuna comes around, leaning his arm against the wall, smirk on his face, as he eyes you like you’re something to steal. “Just graduated high school? So you just turned eighteen, sweetheart?”

Mai glares daggers at him. “Get the fuck away from her, Super Senior. You’re icky. Also, case in point proven.”

Sana whacks the back of Sukuna’s head, and he all but growls at her. “Stop being creepy,” she reprimands him before turning to Mai again. “No, I swear, it’s not like that. It’s chill, minimal alcohol. No drugs. Just a small get-together with a few of our fellow friends, and friends of fellow friends, from the music scene.” She leans against Choso’s arm, wide eyes looking up at him, but he doesn’t lean into her. “Right, Cho? No scary guys for her to worry about?” 

His eyes narrow at you, raking down your figure again, and his chest moves a little faster with his breath. “I’m against it. It’s no place for an eighteen-year-old. You’re a fucking idiot for trying to invite a girl who just recently graduated from highschool to a house party. She’s practically a kid.”

Your heart sinks from his words, and you feel juvenile standing in front of him, in a way that makes you angry and embarrassed at the same time, and you can’t bite back the words in time, “Whatever, at least I haven’t been on crack since the day I was born like you probably were.”

Almost all heads in this small hallway snap to you, if they weren’t already there before, wide eyes blinking before Gojo bursts out into a laugh, which dominoes into Mai’s laughter, and you barely register the way Sana looks you up and down once before forcing a smile. Choso’s surprised expression turns into a disgruntled one as he crosses his arms across his chest, and you can’t help but watch the stretch of his inked skin over his muscles as they flex. 

“I’ve never done crack, shortcake, and your lame insult only proves my point on your immaturity,” he scowls, leaning his upper body forward towards you, and his gaze briefly drops to your lips.

Sana comes in between the two of you, pressing herself up against him to get him away, and he takes an involuntary step back and now he’s scowling at her too. She turns around to face you, and there’s that forced smile again. “Uh, y’know what, sweets? Cho is sooo totally right, no place at all for a—I’m sorry, how old did you say you were?”

“Eighteen,” you say with a slight grit to your teeth.

“Oh! Yeah, no place for you, sorry,” she says, with a small jut of her bottom lip to signal a pout.

You roll your eyes at her, then glance past her at Choso who’s looking at you like he’s still got a few retaliating words for you on his tongue, but then he’s dropping his gaze to the neckline of your shirt, eyeing the shape of your breasts, even dipping further down your legs and you let out a scoff.

“You sure enjoy checking me out for someone you think is practically a kid,” you spit back.

He’s not angry this time, the corner of his mouth simply tipping up slightly into a smirk. “I meant you’re too young to drink, but you’re old enough to fuck, so spare me the attitude.”

Your cheeks flush at his comment, nonetheless made in front of a group of people who were practically strangers to you, and you’re about to give him a piece of your mind when Mai grabs your forearm and Gojo places himself between you and jerkface. 

“Woah! Look at the time,” Gojo chirps, glancing at his wrist that was absent of any time-telling device but he rolls with it anyway, “should probably head out now, since the venue’s closing soon. Y’know, grab our stuff.”

Mai nods her head at you in response to his words, sending a single glare Choso’s way before exchanging some pleasantries with Gojo and then dragging you down the hallway with her towards the exit.

“Hey–” you begin to complain, her grip on you starting to hurt, and you eventually yank your arm away from her before she opens the backdoor exit. “Let’s go to that party.”

Mai sighs, leaning her back against the door and crosses her arms. “No way. Your mom wanted me to get you home before midnight,” she says as she glances at the time on her phone, “and it’s close to midnight.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m an adult now, I don’t have to adhere to a midnight curfew, like I’m fucking Cindarella.”

Mai raises an eyebrow at you from the profanity, recognizing the fact that it’s something you just forced into your vocabulary in a way that doesn’t suit you. “I already said no.”

“Take me or else I’m going to tell your mom about the nipple piercings you got last week.”

Mai hisses a sharp breath through her teeth. “You’re a bitch.”

“Take me,” you deadpan.

She tilts her head back so that it hits the metal of the door, and then she’s pushing her back against it to open it, the rush of cold wind from outside brushing past the two of you as she steps into the night and you follow her. “Oh my god, fine. But only for a little bit, and let’s get the lie straight right now–you had explosive diarrhea at the concert so I couldn’t take you home right away since you were incapacitated in the restrooms.”

“What? Why do I have to be the one with explosive diarrhea?” you ask, frown on your face but there’s a skip to your step as you follow her down the street to where she very poorly parallel parked and you open the passenger side door. She doesn’t bother answering you as she settles into the driver’s seat and her car roars to life with a few struggling turns of the key in ignition. 

“No drinking,” Mai says, voice strict with eyes locked on yours, and it’s the last thing she says before she starts driving. 

The house is just a few miles from the venue location, and Mai seems to have been there before since she turns the navigation off once she turns onto a street that has her driving switch to from perusal to more casual.  

Gojo is the one to greet you two at the door with wide eyes and a drink in his hand. You notice he’s changed out of his stage attire into something more casual, and likely in a rush too since his hair is disheveled, and you figured that you and Mai barely got here after they did. The surprised look on his face is quick to turn into a pleased one at the sight of the two of you. “Oh sweet you two actually came,” he comments, waving a hand for you two to come inside, “figured Kamo would’ve scared you off.”

You roll your eyes, “where is that jerk? I still have a few choice words for him.”

“Babes, let it go,” Mai sighs, “Not worth your time.”

“I concur,” Gojo says, “but, if you really want, he’s upstairs putting some of my stuff he borrowed for tonight’s show back into my room. You can…” he glances down at you once, “uh. Cuss him to death? Or whatever you can manage, I guess. But just don’t fuck on my bed, please. That’s my only rule.”

“Why do you sound like that’s a rule you’ve had to make often?” Mai scoffs, amused, while your cheeks feel hot. 

Gojo slumps his shoulders in some type of comical defeat. “I don’t wanna talk about it…” he mumbles, voice trailing off and turning on his heel to walk away while Mai follows him off with more follow-up questions he doesn’t seem receptive to answering. 

Your eyes glance over to the staircase, studying for a moment as loud party music fills your ears before making your way over and up the steps. As you head down the hallway leading into bedrooms, the floorboards creak until your sneakers even over soft carpet, and you hear soft sounds of clattering off to the left. There’s a door that’s half ajar leading into a warmly lit room, and you deftly peek your head through the opening.

Choso stands near the foot of the bed inside a messy room, black boxes and cases and wires surrounding him as he fumbles with unplugging some sort of audio station pad from another piece of hardware. His hand grips tightly around the thick black rubber coating of the wire, and you watch the flex of his knuckles that tense the veins running up his arm, sleeve of the shirt he’s worn all night stretching to accommodate the roll of muscle at his upper arm. With a solid yank, the chord releases itself before the wire whacks him straight in the face and he grumbles a fuck under his breath and he rubs the skin of his cheek, to which you can’t help but let out a small laugh at the sight of. 

His furrowed and frustrated expression turns into surprise as his eyes flicker to the entrance of the room. He stands up straight, and then there’s that bored expression again. “Oh. Shortcake. I thought I said you’ve got no business being here.”

“Yeah, about that, I’m waiting for you to apologize to me,” you say, leaning sideways against the doorframe as you cross your arms over your chest. 

He sighs, eyes moving away from yours to busy himself with the jungle of equipment he’s practically drowning in, as if he couldn’t be bothered by your presence right now. “Apologize for what?”

You make your way inside the room, foot pushing aside anything sprawled on the floor that’s in your way so you can continue to approach him, and you stop just when you’re just a step away. His gaze is still set to the ground as he’s crouched over slightly, but it shifts from the speaker he was toying with to the shape of your shoes instead.

“Apologize to me for being so crass,” you say, “after we had just met.”

He slowly straightens his spine, and you’re a little shocked to find the height that he has on you. His expression is curious, eyes narrowing slightly like he has you all figured out already, and it pisses you off. “Crass is such a prissy word to use, princess. Try ‘apologize to me for being a massive dick’ or something, and I’ll start to take you more seriously.”

“Why are you so rude?” you ask, anger building up inside of you all of a sudden. “I’ve barely met you, I don’t see how I could’ve upset you in any way. Yet you’ve already insulted me in multiple ways tonight, and it’s not a cool look for you. Trust me.”

“You’re the one that basically called me a crackhead,” he counters, but there’s no real offense behind it.

“Yeah, because you called me a kid,” you say, face tightening even further with anger, “even though I’m an adult.”

He sighs, closing his eyes in irritation, and tilts his head up to look at the ceiling briefly as his mouth hangs slightly open, all as if he’s running thin of the capacity to deal with this conversation, and then he looks back down at you again. “Shortcake, I didn’t call you a kid ‘cause of your age. I called you a kid ‘cause you’re just so–” he starts, eyes traveling down your body paired with a vague gesture of his hand towards all of you, and you find yourself shifting on your feet to stand a little more poised, “you just seem so innocent and clueless and, uh, forgive me, naive.”

“You’re the clueless one here if you still think negging a girl will get you anywhere with her,” you say, hands clenched in fists at your side now.

There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he tilts his head at you, some of his dark hair falling over his forehead from the motion and a few strands weave with his eyelashes. “I’m not trying to get anywhere with you here, sweetheart, unless you’re wanting that,” he says, voice almost purred at the end as he steps over a guitar case on the floor to get closer to you.

You’re unable to make eye contact with him when he’s close and you can smell the earthy notes of his cologne, mixed with another scent that seems more distinctly him that makes your head spin. Your gaze takes in the sight of his forearm, the one with scattered tattoos trailing up his arm but not yet fully inked in. You wonder what he’s saving the space for, and what he’s willing to let in. 

When your gaze flickers up to his face again, you’re a little surprised to see his expression is softer. He suddenly holds his forearm up in front of you. Your eyes signal confusion to him, but he just keeps his arm up the same.

“You’ve been ogling my tattoos since we met,” he says, voice low, “if you’re curious, then just have a closer look.”

Your breath picks up in speed, and you hesitate for a moment but it’s true. You were curious. Your hands shakily hold onto his forearm to keep it still as you study the ink on his skin. You twist his arm as much as his joint allows, and he lets you handle him in any way you want, and you swear the snake tattooed on his skin moves as if it were alive. A dark blossoming rose with highlights of burgundy red catches your eye near his elbow, and you brush the back of your hand against it. Your fingers accidentally find his pulse at his wrist, and you find his heart is beating fast. 

You run a flat palm up his arm, the skin to skin contact feeling intimate, and your fingers stop when they tuck under the fabric of his sleeve. You feel the warmth and curve of his bicep, lightly wrapping your hand around it, and you blush at the sight of how small your hand looks on him.

“What does this one mean?” you ask, not meaning for it to come out as a whisper, but you feel like his answer is meant to be kept a secret. Your thumb swipes over small roman numerals permanently etched into him over muscle.

“It’s my dad’s military tag,” he responds, voice quiet like yours.

You tear your gaze away from his skin to look up at him, and you realize he’s closed enough distance between the two of you to where his face is just inches away. From the moment you looked up, his eyes have been on your lips, and his brow furrows as if he’s fighting some voice in his head that’s testing this harmony between the two of you in this moment. 

You swear he’s about to kiss you, since there could be no other explanation for the way he was looking at you, but instead he clears his throat and his face is first to distance from you before he pulls his arm back as well, and then a small step backwards. “Sorry,” he says, and he almost sounds awkward. It startles you, because it’s the first time he doesn’t sound cool or calm or collected.

“That-” you start, “...wait, what are you sorry for?”

His eyes widen, and you see the heaviness under them for a moment, “uhh…I’m actually not too sure.”

Your head feels clear now that he’s not close enough to breathe in, and you blink a few times as your annoyance from earlier resurfaces amidst the lingering energy he just broke between you two. “Start with ‘I’m sorry for calling you a kid, and then also just now calling you naive and clueless,’” you say, foot tapping impatiently, “and then, in front of all your bandmates, mocking the fact I’m not old enough to drink, and shamelessly traveling your eyes over me, and then–” your breath catches slightly as the words fail to leave your tongue, cheeks feeling hot, “and then saying–” you try again, but the thought only falls flat, and he’s taking a step closer to you again.

“And then saying that you’re old enough to fuck?” he asks, finishing your sentence for you, but there’s no remorse in his tone at all. 

His hand suddenly finds the small of your back and he pushes gently so you take a stumbled step towards him, like he needed to have you close to him again.  His lips brush against the top of your head, and the sensation sends a hot feeling through your chest. “Choso,” you reprimand him.

“Fuck,” he exhales, like in cynical disbelief, “my name sounds so sweet coming from you.”

It makes no sense, but you grip his shirt at his chest just to make contact with him, and you brave yourself to look up at him, wondering if he can see the hint of worry in your eyes, because he already feels like something you can’t resist.

His eyes are dark now, different from the tenderness in them before, and he’s freely studying the features of your face. “I don’t want to fuck you, Shortcake, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re a little too good for me to do something like that.”

His words say one thing while his eyes say another, his arm wrapping around your waist to keep you close, and you’re astonished at how little he cares about the clear contradiction in his words from the way he holds you. His gaze slowly travels down from your eyes to your lips.

“What about–” you start, heart beating fast in your chest as you see the glimmer of the silver ring pierced through his lip. You bite back the words.

But he reads your mind, because his head dips down towards yours and he captures your lips in his, slow and sweet at first before pressing more firmly, more decisively with both hands flying to hold your waist. A moan muffles in your throat at the sensation of his bare fingers coyly traveling under the hem of your shirt, and you can’t help but slide your arms up over his shoulders, locking them behind his neck to pull him down closer to you, and he sighs in response as he presses your hips flush against him. The chill metal of his lip ring has the plush of your bottom lip tingling cold, and when his tongue swipes across to warm it for you, your mouth opens with ease. You taste spearmint on his tongue, and his lips curve against yours in what feels like an amused smile, large hands now slid so far up your shirt that his fingers reach the band of your bra.

“Hey, Cho, do you know where–”

The trill of a feminine voice in the air cuts through harshly, and he pulls his lips from yours but not without a moment of reluctance. You two turn your head to the door, and you see Sana standing there, eyes wide and blinking as she takes in the sight of the two of you standing in what feels like a guilty proximity from how her eyes silently curse you. 

You can only manage an awkward laugh, fist shoving against Choso’s shoulder but his hands are still placed firmly on the curve over your lower back, dangerously close to the plush of your ass, and your hips are practically pinned to him while you do all you can to lean your upper body away. “Oh–sorry, this…is not what it looks like–”

“I…” Sana starts, and you can see the hurt in her expression, but she quickly corrects it, “Oh! Ah, was just lookin’ for Cho here,” she says, making her way into the room, and a harsh shove of your fist against Choso’s chest finally has him relenting to let you go. Your posture immediately stiffens when she approaches Choso’s side, and she playfully pushes his arm but the effort is weak. “Kissing girls in Satoru’s room is seriously not a good idea, Cho. That freak probably has cameras in here to make sure people don’t bump uglies in his room again after that New Year’s party.” 

Choso gives her a pointed look, like he wasn’t caught up on that drama, but you’re just standing there with your eyes flicking between the familiarity of the two people standing in front of you. Why wasn’t Sana jealous? She was looking at you ten seconds ago like she was a whole lot of jealous. 

“What are you looking for?” Choso asks her, and she holds her red plastic solo cup with her drink in it out for him to hold as she crouches down to the floor to sift through the equipment now surrounding the three of you.

“My lucky mic,” she says, “Gojo said it’d be here.” There’s a hint of something in her voice, something that mirrors betrayal if you’re perceptive enough. 

You watch Choso lick his lips once, eyes darting to you, before he’s crouching down too to help her look. “For something that allegedly means a lot to you, you sure do a shit job at looking out for it,” he comments with a sigh before pulling out a black case from under three other ones and handing it to her. “It’s here.” 

“I’m–” you say, taking a step back and almost tripping over a guitar case, “I’m, um, going to head downstairs. Mai is probably looking for me.”

Choso raises an eyebrow at you from where he’s still crouched down next to Sana, and he’s about to speak when Sana cuts him off.

“Okay. Bye,” she says, still rummaging through things mindlessly even though she had already been given what she was looking for.

Choso makes a move to stand up, like he wants to see you out the door, but Sana’s hand grabs him by his forearm, eyes still not meeting his, and there’s a beat of confusion in his eyes as he studies the side of her face. But you know what sort of look she probably has in her eyes right now, and you know only because you’re also a girl, and all girls know what it’s like when a guy you love doesn’t want you in the way that you want him. All you can do at this moment is feel sorry for her.

The atmosphere in the room begins to suffocate, and you head out of the door in a rush. 

.

.

.

present day. summer.

“He kissed ya the day he met ya? Hmph! That wouldn’t fly with me,” the man seated beside you says, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he shifts slightly in his seat to puff his chest out. 

“Hmm,” you hum as you look out the window wistfully, memories that you had locked up for so many years opened like a pandora box that fills your chest with warmth but has your fingers trembling with anxiety because you know how it all ends. “You wouldn’t…let a man kiss you on the first day he met you?”

The driver humors you with a hearty laugh from his chest, at least. “Not talkin’ about it that way, darlin’. I’m talkin’ about my daughters. I’ve got two girls of my own. A man should keep his hands to himself the first time he meets a lady. At least that’s what I’ve taught ‘em.”

There’s a small smile that tugs at your lips at his words, the love he has for his daughters heard clearly through his strict tone. You left out a lot of the details that probably would’ve angered him on your behalf even more, so the fact he still ended up getting worked up about it has you a little amused and reflective at the same time. “How old are your daughters?” you ask, tucking strands of your hair behind your ear, watching the wind-rustled plains of grass that you two have been driving by for a while now.

“They’re a little younger than you,” he comments, his expression now a bit more serious, “one just graduated from college, she’s startin’ more school in the city soon, and the other’s still in highschool. She’s turning sixteen next week.”

“Ah, sixteen,” you muse, “that’s a confusing age.”

“You got that right,” he gruffs, “the other day, she called me on my way home from work to bring some drink called a boba. Fifty-two years of life and I never even knew there was a damn thing called a boba! Why would anyone want swirlin’ stuff in their drink?! Anyways, the shop got her order wrong, and when I brought it home, she refused to drink it, called me the worst dad ever, then stormed upstairs to slam the door on her room. I turn to my wife, and she’s shakin’ her head at me like I’m the one that did something wrong!”

You laugh, then press your lips into a smile. “I’d have to agree with her on that,” you joke, and he lets out another disgruntled noise that has you laughing again. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve lived with my wife and those two girls for over two decades,” he sighs. “I’m used to it by now. All three are equally pains in my ass, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Your smile drops a little as you look at him more contemplatively. There’s a glimmer in his eyes as he speaks, and you realize it’s familiar, but the answer of where you’ve seen it before fails to arrive.

“My youngest,” he starts again, “she’s been listenin’ to really loud music lately.” He presses one of the buttons underneath the AC vents, static noises coming to life before he changes the output to bluetooth. “My wife says it’s some sort of phase, but I’m not likin’ the music. Always sounding tempered and inappropriate.” He plays a song from his phone paired to the car, speakers flowing with music, and a chill runs down your spine the moment the first few notes fill your ears. A song so painfully familiar, so connected to your soul it’s as if your heart still keeps time with it to this day. 

“See what I’m talkin’ about?” the man says, “Lots of words about skin and cigarettes.” With a shake of his head, he lowers the volume. “She’s obsessed with this band, it’s probably a band similar to your old lover’s from the sound of it. She’s got posters of ‘em up on the wall, and she took the picture of us on our first fishing trip together out of the picture frame on her desk and replaced it with this man. This silly-lookin’ white-haired man that always looks like he’s just pretending he knows how to play a guitar. Hmph! She keeps saying ‘dad, I wanna go to their concert!’ There’s no way in hell I’m allowing that.”

You stare down at your lap, brow furrowed from the realization flashing through your head, and your thumb nervously passes over the skin of your other hand. In your periphery, you see him glance over at you once, and he sighs before stopping the music and speaking up again.

“It’s fine,” he says, “my youngest got her sister into the same band, and she likes one of the other ones. Plays bass. He’s too rough-lookin’ for my daughter. Arms covered in tattoos, he’s even got some on his face! She keeps dreamin’ about havin’ him for a boyfriend, but if she brought that home, there’s no way I’d approve. I’d scare him off with my rifle.”

Your heart is beating fast in your chest, and you realize what a small world it is. Or, you realize just how big Choso’s world must be now. So much bigger than he or any of the other members of his band could’ve ever imagined. For once in a lifetime, so rare and pure, are dreams that are fully realized. 

“Gosh,” you respond when you realize you’ve been lost in your own revelations for too long, “that’s an…extreme response. You sound like my father, though.”

“Hm,” he responds, “I’m sure. Did your father approve of this lover of yours? The one that’s makin’ moves on you so fast and too soon?”

You lean back in your seat with your head hitting the headrest. It’s been years since you’ve felt like you’re being lectured or reprimanded for anything, but the feeling comes back to you at this moment as if no time had passed at all. No matter how old you get, you’ll never forget how humbling the feeling was when you thought you knew everything at eighteen, just to look back and realize you didn’t have a single clue.

You sigh. “No. He didn’t approve. Far from it.”

.

.

.

seven years ago. autumn.

chapter 2. the juvenile & the delinquent.

[to be continued]

a/n. eeeeeppp thank you very much for reading n supporting my new fic!! i hope you enjoyed :') still a lot more to uncover n unpack hahah i'm so nervous to start a new fic but i'm also very excited!!! i love choso sm but i also love nanami so this is gonna be interesting to write. also TYSM to everyone that wanted to be on taglist for this omg your support means the world to meeee. love you all sm.

taglist: @joemama-2 @sweetpo1son @lilluna12 @polarbvnny @4y3sh4 @sedona-the-l0bster @horisdope @ilovenana88 @thexmistress @atsushirolll @flvrrg0d @strawnanamilk @nighttwingg @indieotterxoxo @pirana10 @bakuhoethotski @tvdumarvelhpsimp @lavender-hvze @whereflowerswenttodie @alwaysfreakingout @kaitoluver @3xv5s @wrenabbadon @erwinslut @winsga18 @ynishalee @yungbloode

love u all so much!!

#choso kamo #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader smut #choso x reader angst #choso x reader fluff #nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader angst #nanami x reader smut #nanami x reader fluff #choso x you #nanami x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk #jjk fanfiction #rock band au #music au #bad boy #second chance romance #love triangle #smut #fluff #angst #punk rock au #band au

[aestheticpearl]

— ‘you’ve got to press it on you.’

characters. dewdrop, rain, swiss, mountain, phantom

themes. SMUT

[warnings] smut, blood, biting, dacryphilia, size kink, corruption kink, light choking, mirror sex, spanking

[gender neutral reader]

ghoulettes

a/n: they’re ghouls, read at your own risk

➳ dewdrop

he def fucks with a PASSION

very accommodating

if you want to go slow, he’ll go slow

if you want it rough, he’ll be rough

he can be whatever you’d like, praise or degradation

‘oh yeah, that’s it baby— fuck you really know how to move, where’d you learn that hm? you fucking the other ghouls?’

POWER BOTTOM

i said what i said

dew loves to watch you ride him

and he loves to hold your hips to guide your movements

it’s definitely his favorite position

he doesn’t mind topping tho

this ghoul will mark you up until your neck is painted in your own blood

he’ll lick it up cause he love how sweet you taste

“such a pretty thing covered in your own blood and my cum, fuck you turn me on.”

you lay breathlessly on top of the ghoul as he pets your head. you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, your mind fuzzy and fucked out.

“few more rounds yeah?” dewdrop states moving so he’s now on top of you.

he slips himself back inside you with little effort, using his own cum that’s on you as a lubricant.

you groan into your pillow at the stretch of him. no matter how many times you do it, it still burns in the best way possible.

“that’s it, you’re so good at taking my dick.” he says before leaning over to bite your shoulder.

➳ rain

he doesn’t fuck

he makes love

and he’s so good at it

gives the BEST head

he would stay between your legs for hours if you’d let him

shower sex

y’all are always fuckin in the shower or in some kind of water

oddly enough he’s not a fan of bath sex

the water splashes on the floor and you almost slipped because of it one time

shamelessly loud moans

he breathes heavily after he cums that’s so hot holy fuck

he’ll definitely thank you while cumming

‘thankyouthankyouthankyou— hgnnn i love you so much’

loves to make out with you while he’s inside you

he’s def cried after sex cause it felt so good but don’t tell anyone that

your lips are starting to go numb because of the heavy make out session between the both of you. it almost distracts you from the slow but skilled rolling of his hips into yours. almost.

“you feel so good around me, satan i love you so much.” rain says before moving back into the kiss and pinning you more up against the shower wall.

the water pours down both of your bodies and something about it just absolutely does it for rain.

“you look so amazing like this, soaking wet while i drill my cock into you.” he moans.

➳ swiss

kinky bastard

degradation king

but like his aftercare is amazing so it’s fine

corruption kink

fav position is doggy

loves shoving your face into a pillow while he plows you from behind

also likes to lean down and yank you up so he can hold your neck

has marked you everywhere

needs to let everyone know you’re his

‘you’re mine, don’t forget that’

almost bit a major artery in your leg

ALMOST

there was a lot of blood but it’s okay cause you didn’t die and it only turned him on more

he will try any angle that feels good

he MAKES you flexible

this bitch definitely growls

LOVES to make you watch how he disappears inside you

def has a mirror next to his bed

“look at how good i fuck you.” swiss grips your face and makes you turn to look at yourself in the mirror next to him bed. “look at how well your slutty hole takes me ahh fucking whore for my cock.”

you let out a pathetic whimper that makes swiss chuckle as he pushes your head back into the mattress.

“keep your eyes on me.” he whispers in your ear as he holds the back of your neck. he plants a swift smack on your ass before rubbing his hand over it gently to soothe the sting.

“good play thing.”

➳ mountain

he knows his size

he also knows how to use it

OH LORD

he is so gentle tho

a little scared he’ll hurt you

he also can’t degrade you

he tried and HE ended up crying

loves how he towers over your body

can and will man handle you which means he will fuck you everywhere he can

the wall, the bathroom, the practice room

everywhere

loves the thrill of getting caught

‘shhh baby you don’t want us to get caught do you?’

he loves when you’re vocal, since he kinda just grunts and groans

mountain lifts your leg gently for better access and you can’t help but moan loudly before his hand covers your mouth and he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“so loud, i’m starting to think you want someone to catch us pretty thing.”

your eyes squeeze shut as your body is hit with another wave of pleasure as you feel mountain’s free hand take yours to guide it down your chest and stop at your abdomen before pressing down.

“i’m right here, you feel that?”

➳ phantom

i love phantom i do but he’s younger and doesn’t have as much as experience as the other ghouls

that being said

he focuses a little too much on himself but

HE WHIMPERS

‘ah fuck’

he loves holding you close to him while thrusting into you

doesn’t pull out all the way, he kind of just jerks into you really fast

lil jackhammer

he learns how to make you feel good from your guidance

likes when you communicate how you feel during sex

he likes seeing you cry but only because it feels good

he doesn’t like hurting you

bites you but not hard enough to draw blood

he likes praising you

very possessive

phantom places gentle kisses over the fresh indent of his teeth on your neck while holding onto you for dear life.

“such a good little thing for me nghh so tight, all mine.”

you’ll admit he was going a little too fast for it to feel good on you end, that was until you adjusted your hips and he started hitting a certain spot that had your legs shaking.

phantom takes notice of this almost immediately.

“i hit your sweet spot didn’t i?”

“p-phantom i need to you slow down and keep that angle.” your eyes are practically rolling back into your head at this point as he listens to your instructions.

“fuck you’re squeezing me so tight.”

please reblog to show support ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

feral i’ve gone feral you guys

.love always <3 pearl

.masterlist

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band #ghost ghouls #the band ghost x reader #nameless ghouls smut #nameless ghouls #nameless ghouls x reader #dewdrop x reader #sodo x reader #rain x reader #swiss x reader #mountain x reader #phantom x reader #dewdrop smut #dewdrop ghoul #sodo smut #sodo ghoul #rain ghoul #rain smut #swiss ghoul #swiss smut #mountain ghoul #mountain smut #phantom ghoul #phantom smut

[sorrowsofsilence]

Diagnosis

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: Smut (18+, fingering, female!receiving), PnV pls wrap it b4 u tap it, male!recieving, choking, doctor x patient (uncomfy situation so pls don't read if the idea of a doctor being unethical isn't your vibe- it is also not my vibe but yk, Dr. Davis can do anything to me lol)

Prompt: You had no idea your past highschool school hook-up would be your substitute doctor during your annual check-up; but let's just say you were in desperate need of a physical.

Author note: LOL I AM GOING TO HELLLLL - but also I've seen so many Dr. Davis ideas I had to create one myself; so thank you to especially (@valiantroeagleangel) whose work inspired me. You are wonderful. And shout out to some sexy phrases by @loveisanimaginarydagger3000 - I’m weak

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

Tags: @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @th4t-em0-k1d  @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking @gretaswhore28 @veronicaphoenix @lma1986 @calleyx13 @somewhere-diamond @talialovesmiw @auratheopossumwitch

(I wasn't sure who I should tag, and if you would like to be tagged in one-shots please let me know! If you’d like to me to remove you as well pls also let me know!! I just took some tags that I've had in past one-shots, and those I think would enjoy! <3)

You picked at your fingernails nervously as you sat in the waiting room, your leg bouncing up and down rapidly.

Something about Doctors’ offices always made you nervous, especially when it involved a doctor that wasn’t your own. You were getting a routine check-up and your first pap smear, scheduled with your regular doctor, but she had a last-minute family emergency. This meant you were going to be inspected by someone else, and that thought made you slightly uneasy.

You played with the mask that covered your nose, pinching at the metal band that rested on the bridge before tugging at the string.

The old woman next to you watched your anxious wading with curious eyes, and you simply shifted in your seat, avoiding her gaze.

Your name was finally called and you followed the nurse, allowing her to check your height, and then leading you into a room located at the end of the hall.

She sat you down, your legs crunching beneath the paper as she placed the blood pressure bump along your arm, squeezing until it tightened and let go.

“Your blood pressure seems to be a little high?” She said, eyebrows furrowing.

You rubbed your hands nervously between your thighs, “I’m just a little anxious.”

Her eyes smiled, indicating a soft grin beneath the mask she wore, “You’ll be just fine. Dr. Davis is a fantastic doctor.”

His name rang off her tongue, piquing your interest. Davis. You knew someone with that last name in high school.

“You can take your mask off in here by the way. Just set it on the side.” She nodded before leaving and you sat there for a few more moments, nervously shifting in your seat.

After a few minutes, you heard a soft knock on the door and you sat up straight, anticipating the man who would be taking care of you today.

The door opened and a man with soft chestnut hair that fell slightly in front of his face walked in, thin-framed glasses sat promptly on top of his nose, covered by a black mask. He hadn’t looked up from the clipboard that was in his hands as he kicked the door closed with his foot gently, tattooed fingers holding up the top page as his eyes skimmed rapidly over the words.

“How’s it going? I’m Dr. Davis.” His voice fell from his lips in a firm but gentle tone and your eyes widened in surprise as you remembered the faint lisp at the end of his ‘s’, and the twang in his accent.

“Hi,” you whispered as you absorbed his image, eyes skimming over his white coat that draped down his long body. The light-blue button-up sat tightly against his neck. You swallowed gently at the ink that crawled just above the collar, sinched between a black tie traced with binary code as the pattern.

“Y/N Y/L/N?” He asked with a curious tone, gaze immediately leaving the page as his orbs met your own, and your heart raced as his ochre eyes bore into yours.

His professionalism dropped slightly as his eyes skimmed over your face in recognition, and your lips parted slightly. He stood still, frozen in remembrance before he coughed, setting the clipboard on the counter and taking a seat next to his computer.

Noah Sebastian Davis is your doctor.

He immediately avoided your gaze as your face began to warm, and you crossed your legs, feeling vulnerable under his authority as he sat there, distracting himself with his computer.

Your high school hookup is your doctor.

“Well,” He began typing, a soft waver barely evident in his voice, “It’s been a long time.”

“Thirteen years,” You licked your lips quickly, smiling shyly as you stared at your legs, glancing up every so often to steal a look at your doctor. You felt even more nervous than before as the man who sat in front of you eventually turned, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he watched you intensely.

“Look, let’s just keep this professional. If you’re more comfortable with someone else I can get another doctor in here.” He said monotonously, leaning over his lap as his elbows rested on his knees.

You mustered a small smile as your chest hammered, eyes grazing across the tattoos embedded into his fingers Memories of the way they used to dance along your skin left your stomach swirling.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind…” Your thoughts trailed off as you looked at the ground, “if you don’t mind?”

Dr. Davis maintained strict eye contact, his voice proper and fixed, “It’s my job to remain professional and competent. I strive for nothing but efficiency, and I’ll have you in and out Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Miss,” You corrected quietly, picking at your nails again.

Something flashed across his eyes at the realization, and your ears flushed as you adjusted yourself on the examination table.

He turned on the chair again, fingers tapping on the keyboard.

“Let’s go through some medical history to clarify things under your files. It seems you usually have Dr. Thomas, am I correct?”

You hummed in confirmation, nodding along.

“Any health concerns to bring up in your visit today?”

You shook your head, “Just a routine check-up and a pap smear.”

Dr. Davis nodded along, shifting in his seat at the mention of a pap, his hand reaching to pull against his collar as if loosening the tension that was building within the room.

“Any issues regarding mental health?”

You shook your head.

“Eating and drinking well?”

You nodded.

“Any allergies?”

You shook your head.

“Sexually active?”

You noticed his voice hither slightly, as he glanced over at you briefly, before fixating his eyes on the computer again.

“Not like, regularly.”

He shifted in his seat, nodding.

“Multiple partners?”

“Uhm,” you began to stutter nervously at his questions, “A few. Not frequently changing.”

It was a routine check-up, you reminded yourself. Doctors asked these questions.

You shrugged, eyes skimming up towards him again as his eyes bore into you once again, your abdomen clenching as his gaze darkened.

“How many since me?”

You coughed, caught off guard as you stared at him in disbelief, “P-pardon?”

He didn’t repeat the question, but instead continued typing, clicking away at your file.

“Three,” You then said, watching him carefully and he hummed in response.

“Anything else you think I should know?” He asked, returning to his cool, professional composure.

You shook your head again, watching as his chest heaved slowly as he stood up. He grabbed the stethoscope that hung around his neck, and you watched as he placed the ends in his ears before standing in front of you, maintaining a distance.

“Let me check your lungs… can you take your jacket off?” He asked, watching you carefully as you peeled off the layer, placing it to the side.

Dr. Davis then sat next to you on the examination table and your heart began to pick up pace at the proximity of his body, his cologne melting into your senses.

His shoulder brushed against yours as he leaned behind you to place the end of the stethoscope on top of your back.

He asked you to take in a deep breath, and you inhaled swiftly, attempting to exhale in a slow, controlled pattern; but the breath that left your lungs was shaky and uneven.

“Sorry,” you whispered, and he ran the stethoscope across your back again, this time placing it underneath your shirt, the cold metal causing a shiver to run down your body.

“Three more,” He asked gently and you obliged, each breath faltering again as your heart raced.

There was no doubt he could hear the thump of your heart pick up as his warm fingers gently skimmed your skin as he controlled the stethoscope; knowing how nervous his proximity made you.

He pulled away, staring at your flushed face before leaning behind you to grab an ear otoscope.

“Just going to check your ears,” he said as his warm hands pulled along your ear, his warm breath creating goosebumps along the skin in your neck as the hairs stood up.

Your stomach butterflied as he then grabbed a wooden popsicle stick, standing in front of you now, placed between your legs.

“open,” he commanded and you obliged, sticking out your tongue and making an ‘ah’ sound.

Dr. Davis held underneath your chin to look up at him as he placed the wood on top of your tongue, pressing down slightly. Your abdomen clenched as a rush of emotions ran through your body, making eye contact with the tattooed doctor as he stared back, not even looking at the back of your throat as your mouth was agape, open widely for him.

You wanted nothing more than to reach up and pull against the fabric of his mask, greedily wanting to expose his lips to see the rest of his face and smile, to see how handsome he had gotten with age.

Your chest heaved as his fingers slid from underneath your chin, trailing down your throat with firm but gentle fingertips, the tension between you building as seconds passed by. He pulled back his hand, along with the popsicle stick, and your mouth closed slowly as he took a step back.

As he turned from you, the way he slid his hand into his pocket to readjust himself didn’t go unnoticed, before he faced you again, nodding curtly.

“I’ll let you get undressed from the waist down. You can place this blanket over yourself, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He averted his gaze as he opened the door, closing it gently behind him.

You let out a breath as your mind began to race. The way your mind kept tracing back to years of messing around with him in high school sent your stomach into a lustful spiral, the warmth of his inked fingers relighting years of memories he engraved into your skin.

Noah had given you years of orgasms, some of the best you ever had. None of your other lovers had compared to him, and your body knew this, sparking complete excitement at his presence once again.

You shifted on your feet embarrassed at this, peeling off your jeans as you folded them neatly on the chair. You slid off your black panties, placing them on top of your pants before lying down on the bed, the cool air causing you to shiver.

Or perhaps, it was the fact Noah was going to be extremely close to your intimate space after so many years of deprivation.

You two hooked up on and off for years during adolescence, never forming a relationship beyond that; even though you always wanted to.

You always had feelings for Noah, but you knew he wanted nothing more than to fuck you senselessly, and then part ways. No strings attached.

After high school graduation, you two parted, never speaking to each other again. You had always wondered what he had gone off and set to do, and being a doctor was honestly the last thing you’d think he’d do. Noah had always been extremely smart, but it still came as a complete shock when he was the one who walked through that wooden door just fifteen minutes prior.

You covered yourself with the thin blanket and a moment later Dr. Davis came through the door again, glancing at your exposed legs before turning to grab a pair of gloves from the counter.

You watched him intensely as he pulled the latex over his fingers, almost drooling at the thought of them running along your folds. You shook away the thought, knowing that you would be completely dripping by the time he would be sitting between your legs, examining you.

The last thing you wanted was for him to know the effect he still had on you, even after all these years.

He made eye contact with you again, tugging at the tie around his neck once again as he took the chair, rolling it to the edge of your feet. Before sitting he pulled out the stirrups.

“You can rest your heels on here,” He pointed to the plastic, and you noticed how his ears began to flush red, his chest rising and falling quickly as he glanced into your eyes once again.

When he looked away you glanced down at his black slacks, swallowing harshly at the bold outline of his erection that was extremely evident, through his tight pants.

You swallowed as you slowly lifted your legs, exposing yourself to the man who now sat at the end of the bed, the thin blanket sliding down your thighs gently, leaving your body on display for Dr. Davis.

“Fuck.”

The word was barely audible. He had whispered it so quietly through gritted teeth, but you still managed to hear the four-letter word, and it sent another rush of warm lust through your body.

“I-I’m just going to examine you before inserting the speculum.” Dr. Davis’ professional tone faltered briefly, and you wanted to look down at him so badly.

You knew that he was aroused, but you had no idea how badly Noah wanted to tear into your pussy right then and there.

For years Noah wondered what happened to you. After years of dedication to med school, he didn’t have much time to form relationships, and he usually had a quick fuck here and there to tie over his cravings. He reminisced frequently about how good you felt wrapped around his cock, all of his past flings never making him feel quite how you did.

This morning when he agreed to substitute at the clinic he had no idea what to expect. You were the last thing he thought would happen, and the second he read your name on that piece of paper as he entered your room he felt his mind begin to spiral.

How was he supposed to remain professional around you?

His biggest regret was never pursuing anything further with you years ago, worried that if feelings got involved he would lose the best thing he ever had. In turn, he fucked himself over in the end, because he had lost you either way; but now, you were right here in front of him, naked and on display.

The second he saw you sitting on the exam table he felt an immediate rush to his pants, his mind racing as he began to sweat, the room suddenly feeling stuffy and tight. He couldn’t help but watch your lips as they parted when you talked, memories of them wrapped around himself as your tongue slid up and down his length leaving him unable to concentrate as he attempted to read your file.

He watched as you shifted nervously in front of him when he checked your lungs, heart racing rapidly under his touch. He wanted to rip your thighs apart, slipping his fingers into you, wanting to leave you begging.

Noah wanted to pull his name from your lips; leaving you worshiping him, needing him.

He kept reminding himself that he was a professional now and that it was unacceptable to push the boundary of client-patient professionalism. There was a code of conduct and ethics he was required to follow; but he wanted to forget years of practice, just to get a taste of you.

You lay there, trying to keep your heavy breathing quiet; but you immediately gasped as one of his covered fingers spread you open, barely touching your skin, afraid to go further.

You closed your mouth tightly, biting the inside of your cheek as you scolded yourself.

Don’t fucking moan, don’t fucking moan. He barely touched you.

“I’m going to insert the speculum now,” He said quietly, and you heard him whisper another sentence to himself, “God, you don’t even need lube…”

You knew that he knew how turned on you were by just his presence alone, and you closed your eyes as Dr. Davis inserted the plastic into your body, the feeling of fullness causing you to chew on your bottom lip.

Dr. Davis clicked the hinges as the speculum opened you up, and you covered your mouth with your hand, something Noah had noticed.

“Are you in pain?” He asked gently, and you shook your head.

“N-no, I-I’m okay.”

He hummed again, and it was quiet for a moment.

There was a lack of movement for a second until you felt a gloved finger brush across your clit slowly, and you furrowed your brows in anticipation.

Fuck, that had to be an accident, right?

You tried to think rationally about the situation, but your thoughts trailed to dirty places, silently pleading that Dr. Davis would press against your intimacy again.

Noah had listened for your reaction as he sat before your legs that held you splayed open for him, his mind battling. He swallowed hungrily.

You felt his fingers brush against you again and your thighs jolted to his touch, before you felt the pad of his finger press firmly against you, tracing small circles as he tried drawing a moan from your lips.

Your mouth fell open in satisfaction as your body clenched, Dr. Davis’ fingers rubbing faster and faster.

You couldn’t help it as a gentle whimper crawled from your chest, and with furrowed brows, you bucked your hips into his touch; giving him the permission he desperately wanted.

You felt the speculum being removed, and seconds later a wet swipe trailed up along your folds.

“Oh my god,” You whispered and Dr. Davis hummed, his lips latching onto your sweet spot before two gloved fingers slid into you, curling upwards.

You began to moan again, pulling the blanket away to see the brunette devouring your body. He looked up at you with lustful eyes, his mask pulled underneath his chin.

You ogled upon seeing his entire face, brows furrowed with desire as he remained stone cold.

“If you moan loudly one more time I’ll stop.” He said as he began licking your body once again, eyes fixated on your own.

“Y-yes.”

“Yes, what?” He said, pulling his mouth away as he continued to pump his fingers in and out rapidly, taking his thin glasses off and placing them on the table.

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl,” he praised, burying himself between your legs again in famish, devouring you feverishly with complete craving.

Your legs began to shake from his praise and you covered your mouth with your hands as your hips pushed into Dr. Davis’ touch, completely engulfed with euphoria.

You didn’t know that he was palming himself through his slacks as he ate you out, desperate for friction, desperate for you to be the one touching him instead.

“Cum.” He demanded, and in a second his tongue swiped along your folds you felt the knot that he built release, elation washing through you as you choked back a desiring cry.

Your free hand gripped Dr. Davis’ hair as you pulled him closer, rubbing yourself along his face as he ate you until it became too much, pushing him away.

He stood up, mouth agape and wet from your release as you watched him with yearning, both your chests heaving.

He hastily began pulling off his white coat, throwing it to the floor as you watched him loosen his tie. Sitting up you beckoned him over and his fingers gripped your throat, pulling you towards him as his forehead rested against your own.

You looked into each other’s eyes as unspoken words danced between you, both of you needing each other but too afraid to speak.

He held you firmly for a moment before pulling your lips to his own, kissing you completely with need and hunger, forcing you to taste yourself

You groaned quietly into his lips as your tongues ran along each other, your fingers shaky as you began unbuttoning his blue dress shirt.

His fingers tightened around your neck as your hands trailed to the hem of his black pants, tugging at his waistband as you pulled apart his belt, sliding the zipper down slowly.

He moaned softly as your fingers slid along his abdomen, threatening to dip in to grab where he needed you.

“You’re in no position to tease princess, remember that,” He squeezed your neck again as he towered over you in authority, and you smiled.

“This is wrong.”

“So wrong.” He mumbled before kissing you in desperation again, your minds fogged with nothing but lust and arousal.

Dr. Davis’ hands pulled your shirt over your head as he pulled back, taking in the image of your exposed body, ready for him.

His covered fingers found their way to your core once again, slipping in and out as you pulled down his underwear, his body hard and ready to devour you.

You licked your fingers, smiling up at him as he watched with lustful eyes, before grabbing hold of his erection, pumping up and down as he thrust into your hand in eagerness. He pulled his fingers in and out of you quickly, your mouth falling open as you watched each other, pleasing one another.

“Spread your legs, baby,” Dr. Davis pleaded, and you opened your thighs farther.

“That’s it… Wider,” He whispered, before pulling his hands away from you, wrapping them around himself as he positioned his body to yours.

Dr. Davis didn’t hesitate any longer before he pushed into you, a loud whimper leaving you. His eyebrows furrowed angrily as his gloved hand covered your mouth, pushing you back into the wall.

“Be fucking quiet,” He said through gritted teeth, his chest heaving as he continued to thrust into you, filling your body, claiming you as his own.

He tore into your skin with his motions, the feeling of him pulling out before pushing back in deeply causing your legs to clench shut. He pushed them open with the hand that wasn’t covering your mouth.

“I said to spread them,” He scolded, fingers digging into your thigh before he slapped the top of your intimacy, earning a yelp from you as your body jolted from the contact.

He remained cold and composed, attempting to keep up his professional facade that was beginning to crumble before you. His eyes squeezed shut as he pushed your thighs back towards your chest, opening you as he fucked your body with possession.

You watched his head tilt back, exposing the tattoos on his neck as his lips fell open in complete satisfaction.

Your body felt perfectly wrapped around him, years of need ready to release into you.

Dr. Davis wanted to flip you over so you stood in front of him, one leg lifted onto the bed as he gripped your ass and pounded you; but he knew that right now, he needed to watch your face contort in pleasure for him, from him.

Your body clenched around him, “Dr. D-Davis,” You whimpered, still trying to remain quiet so as to not be heard by the rest of the clinic.

“Noah,” the brunette growled, bringing you into a kiss and you nodded, murmuring his name back to him against his lips in a plea.

He was close to his release, but he held back, waiting to pull another orgasm from you before he would bring you to your knees, ready to cum down your throat.

“You can do it, that’s a good girl.” He praised and you melted at his words, letting go as he thrust into you one more time, your body completely enveloping him as your mouth was covered by his hand once again to mask your screams. Your body shook through the orgasm Noah offered you.

He slid in and out slowly, before pulling away. His fingers were threaded through your hair as he guided you to the floor, placing you on your knees.

You took him into your mouth mercilessly, sucking and bobbing along his length before he gripped your face, pulling you closer.

You gagged along him, tears forming as a deep growl rumbled from his chest, signalling he was close.

Seconds later Noah’s release coated the back of your throat, and you swallowed his orgasm, looking up at him in commitment.

“You’ve always been mine to ruin,” He said, panting as he pulled you off of him, and you sat on the ground, smiling up at him.

The two of you got dressed in silence, the hormones lingering in the air as he pulled off the gloves, grabbing his prescription notepad and a pen.

“I wasn’t able to get a good enough sample to send off to the lab,” He said, scribbling away, “I’ll need you to meet me at my office this weekend.”

Dr. Davis handed you the note and you looked at the paper, staring at the phone number and address as he nodded toward you, opening the wooden door and leaving the office.

hshshgsghshghsshgh ok i am a mess

#bad omens #noah sebastian #bad omens cult #bad omens band #noah sebastian davis #metalcore #dr davis #Dr. Davis #noah sebastian smut #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #smut #bad omens smut #Doctor Noah Sebastian

[theshortstack]

something about masked men…like damn

I would let them run me over for fun

Still learning about these so

#Sleep token #masked men #simon ghost riley #rain ghoul x reader #the band ghost x reader #the ghost and molly mcgee #dewdrop ghoul #ghost bc #ghost #ghost fanart #sleep token worship #sleep token band #vessel sleep token #konig fic #konig smut #kolkata #konig x reader

[ethereal-maniac]

The Ghouls In Heat HC's

Non-Descript!Fem!Reader x Sodo, Swiss, Phantom, Aether, Rain, Mountain, Cirrus and Cumulus (seperate)

❗️ CW ❗️: nsfw, breeding kink, light exhibitionist kink, dry humping, very horny Ghouls/Ghoulettes, knotting, talk of pregnancy, underwear sniffing, plugging, oral sex, masturbation, cock warming, primal kink, overprotective, posessive, marking, scenting, edging, perv behaviour?, overstimulation, brief mention of bondage.

let me know if their's any more 😅

SODO

his body heat is insane when he's in his rut, cannot be under any blankets or they'll shrivel up with burns.

his needy-ness varies a lot more than the other ghouls during heat.

he tends to want to be holed up in his room with you, doesn't want you to move a muscle without telling him exactly what you're doing first.

he has such an intense urge to provide for you, he goes a bit insane and overprotective to the point where people aren't aloud to walk past his room in case Sodo attacks them.

mating press or doggy all day, he also won't object to some cowgirl/reverse cowgirl when he gets tired but still super horny.

he constantly has a knot or he's building up to one

wants to be smothered in your scent 24/7 so he takes all your clothes out of your closet and scatters them messily around the room

he will also encourage you to not wear any clothes, they'll only get in his way

just needs to touch you at all times, you have to peel him off of you and convince him for 5 minutes that you won't leave him forever when you go to use the bathroom.

sometimes he's crying/whining and scratching at the door if you take too long.

2 minutes feels like an eternity when he's away from you so be sure to give him some intensive cuddles and let him breed you all nice once you're done in the bathroom.

biting any accessible skin at all times.

--------

SWISS

horny motherfucker is even more horny if that's possible.

will rut against anything, your leg? the floor? his guitar? the wall? it's all covered in his cum.

loves to bend you over every object in sight, he doesn't care if it's in a public space as long as he gets to have you.

all he really wants is to hold you really close to him as he rolls his hips rhythmically against yours, catching you on his knot.

wants to feel like he's protecting you and his yet to be conceived kits.

loves to stare at his cocks outline pumping in and out of your stomach.

he fucking loves when you're loud, he will hunch over you just so he can hear your whines clearly.

like Sodo he wants to smell you all the time, he probably won't hole you up in his room but if you let him you best believe he will carry around a pair of your underwear that's coated in your arousal/cum.

he needs to be able to smell you at any time, what if it's an emergency? :(

sometimes his heat creeps up on him and hits before he's able to find you so he's just trying to get himself off as he writhes on the floor with your underwear pushed to his nose/mouth, waiting for you to find him.

you usually find him pretty quickly, he can't even stop tugging at his cock when he tries to explain to you through hooded eyes that he's began his heat and needs you if you're willing.

doesn't stop talking about how beautiful your kits will be.

especially when you're completely caught on his knot so he can't leave your pretty pussy until it goes down.

he will ask if you'd be comfortable with Sodo joining in on the fun ;)

--------

PHANTOM

poor baby is so confused when he wakes up from a nap to these overpowering hot flushes and doesn't understand why his cock's so painfully hard, pressed up against the mattress.

he try's to jerk off like usual but he doesn't understand why he just doesn't feel any satisfaction after cumming, if anything it makes him harder.

he goes completely off of his instincts, forgetting the conversation he had about heats with the other ghouls.

his brain is just like 'wanty/n, needy/n, wanty/n, needy/n' on a repeating loop so he's quick to wake you up.

he's only just able to utter out a few words of what's happening before he's pulling you flush against him and dry humping you erratically, moans of relief falling from his lips.

he'd be overjoyed if you let him get off on any part of your body.

he smothers you in kisses, trying to take you all in at once.

he's in heaven when he finally gets inside you, a long whine rumbling from deep in his chest, he almost cums on the spot at feeling you squeeze around him.

he loves mating press like most ghouls during heat, he also loves cowgirl and fucking you while spooning.

he cannot physically bring himself to ever leave you, wether he means leave your side or leaving your pussy, he'll whine like a bitch if you try.

he needs you to smell like him so expect a lot of scenting, he gets high off of smelling your arousal getting mixed with his.

he gets smoochy and smooshes against you like a cat.

so many 'i love you's' and general praising, he wants the first time he gets you pregnant to be special after all.

He has also gotten into the habit of kneading your breasts like a cat does with a blanket, anything to help your lactation even though you’re not even pregnant yet.

--------

AETHER

he's a lot more in control of his emotions unlike the others but he still feels its all just as intensely.

needs to just feel you in his arms a lot, likes seeing you caged safely between them when he fucks you.

he's quite sensual when fucking you but their's always that underlying desperation to it, his pace quickening slightly or his breaths getting impossibly more ragged.

his ideal day when he's in heat is being with you the whole day, no plans, continuously fucking and cuddling so he can look down at you at the end of the day asleep on his chest knowing your pussy is drowning in his cum.

it physically hurts his cock and his heart to picture his release spilling out of you, he hates the thought that the load currently spilling out of you could've been the one that got you pregnant

plugs are his saviour during this time.

he nuzzles closely to your stomach/thighs, minutes after his knot had popped inside of you, talking to your pussy as he plugs you gently while whispering little prayers to Him that this is the knot. this one will get you nice and round with his kits.

he naps a lot during heat, he's a big boy after all so he always asks if you'll let him fall asleep between your thighs.

a lot of the time this ends in his nose nudging/snuggling unconsciously against your clit all night or his tongue straight up lolling out of his mouth to try and taste your entrance through your underwear. (all of this happening when he's asleep)

just let him fuck a kit into you then get pussy drunk :(

--------

RAIN

oh my sweet water ghoul.

he likes to fuck in some form of water 90% of the time, wether that's the shallows of the abbeys lake, the bath or the shower.

he's already sensitive but being in the water just makes it double and he has so much stamina that he'll go for at least three rounds before he's shaking in your arms from overstimulation while still needing more.

he's always scenting you, it makes him feel so many emotions to bite into you while he's balls deep in you.

Also has a habit of licking you, specifically your neck and collar bone/shoulders

he feels closest to you when his knot's in you, he like to just cuddle while you cock warm his knot but he can easily be swayed to just fuck it into you until it pops.

he likes to make nests and will pamper you until you're ready to take him again.

Your little exhibitionist will try to palm himself or hump you in front anyone and everyone

don't be mad at him, his cock hurts so bad he just wants to cum :(

he adores finishing in you like all ghouls, but he also love to cum in your mouth and on your stomach 'right there my love, that's where our kit will grow'

--------

MOUNTAIN

will 1000% drag you out into the forrest during his rut.

he makes a proper nest and fights of any potential threats (those poor fireflies)

sleeps under the moonlight with his body safely curled around yours, his cock safely sheathed in you or between your thighs.

Needs to be close to you at all times or he’ll start growling and his nose/mouth will twitch and drool, showing off his fangs like a dog when it’s mad or territorial.

like Phantom, he also scents you a lot and rubs his whole body against yours.

He communicates in chitters and chirps a lot during his heat apart from the praises that are spoken in english or ghoulish.

you feel so good around him, sometimes he forgets what plane of existence he's on and confuses his languages.

he fucks you with PASSION, like a beast.

his only thoughts during his heat is 'need to make you feel good... i need to feel good... and i need you pregnant with my kit'

He’s affectionately primal when he fucks you.

Sort of animal like, lots of growls and grunts as he completely ruins you in the nest, won’t let you stray from his arms.

when his ruts over and you return to your ministry dorms covered in cum and dirt, you both take one or two more days off with each other to recover and check in.

he's very sweet and concerned after all his heats, he knows it can be intense on the receiving end ;)

--------

CIRRUS

She gets crazy dominant during her heats.

At first she lets you go about your day without question.

But you'd be a fool to think she'd not follow you around like an assassin, tracking your every move and pouncing on you when you least expect it.

She gets such a rush from seeing your shocked, flustered face beneath her.

Almost every heat consists of her roughly pegging you to the wall or floor so she can tease her knee between your thighs, licking long strips up your neck to then get up and leave you hot and bothered.

it's a cycle she'll repeat all day.

And then after said long day, she ties you to the bed and continues the process with more intensity.

She does make sure you cum though, once she feels temporarily satiated and you're sobbing with need.

Only then does she go down on you or rut into you with the biggest strap she owns, until you've passed out from overstimulation.

Oh and don't think she won't edge you in front of other ghouls or siblings of sin, even papas.

If they get too close she won't hesitate to show them how much you need her.

Her and only her.

She probably marks you more than any other Ghoul/Ghoulette, on your neck, cheek, breasts, stomach, thighs, legs, she wants it all.

--------

CUMULUS

She stays in her room during all of her ruts and refuses to leave, she won't make you stay with her, but she will be very grateful if you do.

Her heats aren't like the other ghouls in the sense of being insatiably horny and just needing to chase that release, for her, this time is about showing you how much she loves you and how much you mean to her by gentle yet lustful acts.

This time is about both of you, not just her need to get off.

She's extra sensitive during her heats so a firm thrust of your thigh against her core and your thumb brushing over her nipple is enough to make her squirm and crumble.

Or maybe you'll kiss her passionately, gently rub her clit in circles, then sit on her face and she's moaning into your core as she cums HARD.

She's especially vocal during this time, you have to know how good you're making her feel.

Do not copy, translate or transfer (plagiarise) any of my fics.

#the band ghost #sodo ghoul #sodo ghoul x reader #dewdrop x reader #swiss ghoul #swiss ghoul x reader #ghouls in heat #phantom ghoul #phantom ghoul x reader #aeon ghoul #aether ghoul #aether ghoul x reader #rain ghoul #rain ghoul x reader #mountain ghoul #mountain ghoul x reader #smut #smut headcanons #ghost band headcanons #in heat #nameless ghouls #nameless ghouls x reader #ghost band #namelessghoulettes #cumulus ghoulette #cumulus x reader #cirrus ghoulette #cirrus x reader #nameless ghoulettes #i write

[ghulehunknown]

Papa Headcanons - 🐱👅

WARNING!! - NSFW

All the Papas love going down, but they each have their own style

Primo

Prefers to get you nice and worked up, so he’ll spend a painfully long time kissing and caressing you before actually going down on you (so when he does use his tongue it feels explosive)

Says “My, my aren’t we a wet little thing?” everytime, knowing FULL WELL he did that to you

Soft and slow, very gentle

Long, painted strokes along your entire area

Massages your breasts while flicking his tongue around your clit

Uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit to give his mouth a break but doesn’t stop until you’ve cum at least once or twice, preferably in his mouth

Secondo

Roughly fingers you while eating you out

Spreads your legs wide so he can eat every inch of you

Loves to eat you from behind so he can finger your ass too

Grabs onto your legs and hips so he can pull your body closer to him

Wants to take his time and edges you - so he’ll alternate by doing other forms of foreplay (sucking on your nipples or pinching them, making out, fingering you)

Praises you (“brava ragazza”) for being so patient as he takes his time torturing you (“You will be rewarded, tesorina”)

Wants to do all the work so he’ll scold you if you start to grind against him

Loves to see his Papal paints smeared all over your thighs

Massages your ass and tits while eating you out

Terzo

Would die happy drowned in pussy

Wears the smell of you like a badge of honor the whole day

Desperate to eat your arousal and drink you if you squirt

In fact it’s a little game he plays with himself, to see if he can make you squirt (he’s almost always successful)

Dying to get you off this way before he fucks you hard into the mattress

LOVES when you ride his face; he wants to be smothered and barely able to breathe

Also into 69ing - you on top or laying on your sides

Favorite cunnilingus position is you on your back with your legs spread and one hooked over his shoulder while he finger fucks you and sucks your clit

Massages your g-spot when he knows you’re close to cumming

Darts his tongue in and out of your hole a lot (“Amore, how could I waste a single drop of you?”)

Suctions/sucks on your clit a lot and alternates that, flicking his tongue, and using the flat part of his tongue

While each papa has their talents and are very good at doing down, Terzo is the Prince of Cunnilingus - a cunt connoisseur, if you will

Immediately wants to kiss you during (so you can see how aroused he’s made you) and after because sometimes he’s sweet like that

Usually wants to fuck right after you’ve cum (while you’re still breathing heavily)

Copia

Kisses every inch of you

Moans as soon as he has you in his mouth; he can cum just from eating you out (pathetic little rat man)

Can’t help it and will stroke himself while going down on you, unless you have him tied up (to punish him for being a dirty, needy man)

Loves being submissive to you while pleasuring you - either kneeling underneath you while you’re standing or sitting on the edge of the bed/couch, or tied up to the bedpost while you ride his face

Wants to be used like your sex toy

Would gladly spend all day down there as long as you’re getting off

Heard somewhere that spelling the alphabet with his tongue will get you off, so he does that and stops at whichever letter or motion gets the loudest response

He’s got a little bit of washing machine syndrome going on - very sloppy and all over the place at times

Finds a steady rhythm, position, and stroke and sticks to it because if it always works why change it

Listens to your breathing get heavier and stays consistent with his speed and motion when you grip his hair and tell him “don’t stop!”

Wants to cuddle you after and kiss you and feed you snacks (one time he hand fed you fruit snacks while he was down there)

#the band ghost #papa emeritus x reader #ghost band fanfic #ghost band smut #copia is my husband #ghost band headcanons #ghost band fanfiction #papa emeritus i x reader #papa emeritus ii x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus iv x female reader #papa emeritus iii x female reader #papa emeritus ii x female reader #terzo fanfiction #terzo x reader #terzhoe #primo x reader #papa primo #secondo fanfiction #papa terzo x reader #copia x female reader #cardinal copia smut

[neochan]

RULE BREAKER (M)

PAIRING: rockstar!mark lee & fem!reader

GENRE: rockstar au! band au! pwop

SUMMARY: another city, another girl, another broken rule.

WC: 3.3k

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol & drugs, cursing, explicit sexual content, fingering, pretty tame smut ngl, spanking, choking, hair pulling

NOTE: this was just to get me back in the groove of smut writing since it's been a couple months. this is also a submission for @nctpromptmeme . this is prompt 1 of this list!

mark lee knows it’s against the rules to take a fan backstage.

it’s not the venues rules. staff members barely spare a glance when he tangles his fingers in yours and pulls you down the nearly abandoned hallways just left of the stage. he doesn’t get a second look from a wandering sound engineer when he escorts you through the jungle of metal rails supporting the stage from beneath. and no one bats an eye when he slips past security to an empty green room nearing the back of the building.

it’s not his own personal rule either. mark has done this plenty of times; choosing someone within the first few rows at his concert, playing up the eye contact, having a security guard slip them a note telling them to wait up after the concert — and it almost never fails. after the band bids goodnight, and fans filter out on the street, mark hops back on stage to greet his lucky winner.

and they’re always there, eyes aglow with excitement and shock when they realize that yes, this was real. mark lee wants them for the night. leader of pop punk band parasocial wants to meet…y/n.

the taste of your name rolls off his tongue so beautifully, so intoxicatingly, he has to repeat it a few more times once the green room door is locked and the curtains are drawn — not too loudly though.

because while it might not be the venues rules, and it certainly isn’t his own, he promised his band mates this couldn’t happen. he swore up and down they wouldn’t become those kinds of rockstars. everyone knows the type — scandal starters, excessive partiers, seen with a bottle of alcohol or tightly wrapped blunt in hand, escorting fans backstage at every show to....well, to do exactly what he was doing right now.

but mark isn't stupid, so he hides it from his bandmates; despite them breaking the rules so brazenly. jaemin stacks up scandals like spare drum sticks, jeno gets off on the attention & fame, renjun self medicates with alcohol, and haechan couldn't be labeled as anything other than a junkie. but he can't be like that, because mark is the leader. the one that has to walk a straight line — at least in public.

so when he's finally locked away in private with his lucky hit, he let's go. there's no need to be an upstanding, careful leader — he can shake off the tension, relax his shoulders, and focus on what's right in front of him.

which, at the moment, just so happened to be you.

"you're gorgeous, you know that?" a tender hand tucks stray strands of hair behind your ear, "couldn't keep my eyes off you tonight."

you can't believe mark lee is right in front of you, touching you, praising you. it's every fantasy you've had of him rolled into one. so when his hands wash over your top, fitting themselves so perfectly on your waist, you giggle and take a little step forward. his body is warm, and he smells smoky with a tinge of bourbon, but what's catching you off guard is how much prettier he is up close. eyeliner is smudged underneath his lashes, and there's blue hair dye running down the side of his neck, on par with rivulets of sweat. the metal bar through his eyebrow is real, and when he flicks his tongue out to lick at his lips, you find a matching tongue piercing.

he loves this.

the wide eyes, taking him all in. the giddiness. the oh my god mark lee is touching me; and while he might not get off on it as much as jeno, he can't help the feeling rushing straight to his cock.

after a few beats of becoming completely starstruck by him, you respond, clasping tightly onto the front of his shirt, "i mean i'm not all that special, but you...." a blush warms your cheeks, "you're out of this world."

it's a reference to one of the songs he sang tonight, so he let's out a forced chuckle and mumbles the rest of the line, "if galileo could see you, he would fall to his knees." he catches himself by surprise when he slowly sinks down onto the floor, the cold tile seeping through the rips in his jeans. his fist curls around the waistband of your skirt, eyes raking your figure. hunger clouds his eyes, but you don't care.

you want this.

he almost thinks you're backing out when you clamp a hand around his arm, but then you say something that makes his head spin on it's shoulders, "you don't have to be gentle...."

it's the desire in your eye, the same glint that matches his own, that permisses him to yank the flimsy skirt down around your ankles, nearly throwing you off balance in the process. "pretty girl wants it rough, huh?" mark pulls himself back up to his feet, one hand winding through your hair, the other knocking your thighs apart, "don't worry, i'll make you scream." his fingers open you up, just the tips of them pushing into you. already you're stretched on your tip toes, trying to run from the warming sensation below your navel. but mark catches this and gives a harsh tug on the roots of your hair, "feet down."

you're basically sinking down on his fingers when you settle on the balls of your feet, the stretch welcoming yet too intense for your body, "f-fuck." you curse.

"baby," he coos, "if you're drooling over two fingers, i don't think you'll be able to take my cock."

"i can, i promise." you mumble, face burning with embarrassment. not because you were under the rough hand of your favorite singer, not because he was teasing you about how tight you were, but because he was peering so fucking deep into your eyes, like he was searching for your soul.

"oh she promises," he mocks, pushing his fingers deeper. he can feel your walls fluttering around his digits; pulsing when they curl and brush the sweet spot he knows all too well.

you're out of breath, eyelids drooping with the weight of having to keep them open, "s-stop toying with me." you plead, nails raking the arm that's holding your body against the cinder block walls.

theres no snarky comment that follows. instead, he leans forward and captures your trembling lips with his own, and you see stars. it's exactly like you imagined it be — feverish, rough and demanding, exhausting every bit of willpower from you. his tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and his piercing clacks against your teeth, forcing a shiver down your spine. he smirks, that much you register, before bullying his tongue into your mouth, the hand between your legs matching.

too many sensations cloud your head — his hot tongue swirling around your own, forcing you to open up and taste each other, the metal ball on his tongue sticking against your teeth, and his fingers culling you into a head high. your eyes drift shut and you push your hips into his hands, all but grinding down.

mark lee might not have been a guitarist, but he sure did know how to use those hands of his. he sets back and licks his lips, letting out a shaky breath. the wet heat of you was drawing him in; he eases two fingers back inside until his knuckles pressed against your folds, and you sighed his name again. he was hard and aching now; listening to the soft pants that fell heavy as he thrust his fingers in and out. the hand that was threaded through your hair finds home on the sides of your throat, squeezing just enough to get your eyes fluttering open.

"whaddya doing sweetheart? sleeping?" he teases, his voice a drawn out purr in the quiet room, "i can't be that boring now, can i?"

when you try to shake your head no, this was far from boring, you find yourself stuck in his grip.

"maybe you want my cock instead?" marks eyes go soft, melting with the way you try to squeak out a response, "what was that?"

"p-please," you cry out hoarsely, his fingers finding that sweet spot again — but, only for the last time. just as fast as he was in you, he was pulling out.

"look at how wet you were for me," he groans, showing off your arousal that dripped from his fingers. he doesn't hesitate when he sticks them both between his lips, the most vulgar sound emanating from his throat, "you taste good as fuck."

warmth returns to your face at his remark, and it's only then that you realize your state. he was still covered head to toe in his stage outfit; metal chains and dark black alt pieces of clothing hung off his body, but you....you only had your top on. from the waist down, you were completely exposed.

mark seems to realize this too. "take this off for me?" he asks, fingering the strap of your top. "don't worry, i'll do the same." the grin you'd seen splashed across magazines and album covers lights up his face when you do as he asked. and true to his word, his shirt was on the ground in a matter of seconds - right next to yours. dark spills of ink swirl up and around his torso, nearly becoming a second shirt, but you see the muscles. the abs everyone goes crazy for, and with a tentative hand, you reach out to touch them.

"aw, don't be shy baby, i won't bite." he grabs your wrist and makes contact for you. another wave of arousal rushes down your spine when the hard lines of his stomach flex in response to your graze. "you like that, huh?" furiously nodding your head, he chuckles,

"alright, let me give you what you want," he says it like his cock wasn't nearly bursting from his pants, swiftly aching at the mere thought of sinking into you. his gaze darts from yours to the couch to the wall to the table shoved in the corner of the room. where did he want to fuck tonight... "come here," his hand tugs you away from the cinder block walls, over to the soft looking leather couch, "let me see you bend that pretty body over...." he purrs, a wide sweeping gesture to indicate that he knew exactly how he wanted you.

face down, ass up...wasn't that the saying?

and you don't mind, gleefully shimmying across the arm of the couch, cold leather nipping at your skin.

"fuck, man...look at you," you can't see him, but you bet his gaze is hungry again, soft, but visibly desperate, "you really are out of this world."

a chuckle passes your lips at the joke, and for a fleeting second you wonder if you weren't the first girl to hear the phrase. but the thought is swept clean from your mind once you hear his pants slipping on the ground, his metal pocket chains scraping the linoleum.

"stop taking your time and fuck me."

he cocks his head to the side...did he just hear that right? a harsh smack lands on your ass cheek, the throbbing, searing pain causing you to lurch forward and cry out. marks hand rubs over the spot immediately, trying to soothe the sting.

"now come on baby, i just need you to be patient with me." you mewl out an incoherent acknowledgment. "here," he grins, "is this what you want?"

a gasp is pulled from your chest at the feeling of him dragging the head of his cock between your folds. "mark please, fuck." slowly, he pushes into you. one hand guides himself, the other is lazily wrapped around your hip. but you can't even think of that right now, because he was filling you to the brim. you've never felt this type of stretch before. it was mind-numbingly delicious,"you're so big."

both of you share a shuddered breath of air when he pulls out and pushes back into you, "damn." he swats at your ass again, this time not bothering to rub his hand over the sting, "you just keep getting tighter...."

his eyes flutter close for a second, lost in the wet heat of you. he's never felt this before — the mutuality of getting off. every other time it's felt forced from the other end; the overdramatic moans were always a turn off but you... you take it like it's real. like it's truly the best cock you'd ever sat on.

mark loves that the most.

"feel good?" the question is drawn out, too focused on keeping his pace even and sharp so that you wouldn't go face first into the couch cushions. you babble out some sort of response that mark can't quiet understand, "words baby..use your words."

"so f-fucking good," you choke on a gasp, "oh god, please don't stop." each word feels like it's ripped from your throat as mark works behind you, thrusting so deep you're left on your tiptoes again.

mark lets out a dark chuckle, fingers digging into your side so he can keep leverage, "be careful what you pray for baby, the devil might hear." it's another musical reference, one that you catch immediately, but you're too cock drunk to form a coherent thought much less a sentence. he feels the way your pussy clenches at his words though, "you liked that, hm?"

you shake your head, arms stretching out in front of you to keep yourself from slipping further down the arm of the couch before a squeal is wrenched from your throat. "you're so deep!"

before he can tease you about going deeper, a loud buzzing sound goes off on the coffee table next to you. it's his phone, lit up with someones caller ID. your eyes are glazed over and blurry, too unfocused to see who the hell was interrupting this. but it didn't matter, because mark ignores it and keeps fucking into you — a little more enthusiastic than before. his fingers still dig into your waist, yet this time, they pull you back to meet his cock. essentially you were bouncing on him without having to do most of the work, "look at that ass bounce."

the buzzing finally stops, replaced with another harsh smack to your ass. you cry out in pain, quickly drowned out by a moan as mark swivels his hips so that he was hitting your sweet spot. white hot pleasure courses through your entire body, and you all but thrash against the leather. "almost there, fuck, keep going. gonna c-cum."

the words are like music to his ears. "just a little longer," mark typically had great stamina, but after the performance tonight, and the way your pussy was sucking him in right now, his willpower was melting away. he was edging himself within your walls at this very second. he needed release. "you're so fucking wet, i can't... oh fuck." his phone starts buzzing again, and this time he glances at the name flashing across the screen and groans, "be quiet okay baby? i need to take this."

furiously, mark jabs the green button on the screen of his phone, "what do you want." through gritted teeth, he keeps his pace, thrusting into your warm cunt. it's difficult, but you manage to stuff your fist in your mouth and bite down, stifling any sound that threatened to come out. hot electricity was still running through every nerve in your body, but as mark mindlessly slows to concentrate on not moaning into the phones receiver, it slowly dwindles.

"i'm..." he glances down at the way your waist curved in, the jiggle of your ass when his hips met yours, "i'm outside. why."

you can't hear who's on the other end of the line. maybe it was his manager, or another member of the band. the only thing you knew for certain was they wanted to know where the fuck he was at.

"don't you dare talk sideways to me." the warning in his voice nearly makes you moan out loud. this side of mark lee was something to marvel at. but you don't. you just push your hips backwards onto him.

a breath of air rushes past his lips, "shit." he mumbles.

"i wasn't-" he grits his teeth, "i wasn't cursing at you......because i dropped my cig on the ground, i don't know jaemin."

ah so it was na jaemin - drummer of parasocial. hot head. scandal starter. covered in more ink than you thought possible.

"okay..." mark sighs, his pace slowing, "okay, i'm coming....yeah whatever." he presses the end call button on the screen and tosses the phone on to the couch in front of you.

"baby..." he warns, now lazily fucking you, "i gotta go..."

"why?" you whine, hips pushing back against him in an attempt to get his pace started again. you so desperately wanted him to keep bullying his cock into you.

"they said the vans packed up... if i don't go now, they're gonna leave me behind." he pulls out and helps you flip over to face him, hands instinctively come up to cover your chest, "i'm sorry," he breathes.

"it's okay."

maybe you didn't get to orgasm, but mark lee between your thighs was enough of a treat. as long as he felt good, it didn't matter. so it doesn't irk you when he says, "i'm sorry this couldn't be more..i'm worn out from the show, and...." his voice trails off into a sheepish shrug, his wrist flicking towards his phone.

"i know." it wasn't your job to reassure him, but you knew what this was. what his life entailed, even if it was from an outsiders perspective.

mark sighs, settling back against the couch while he watches you hurriedly throw your clothes on. there's something different about you.

"i can walk you to your car if you want," he offered, his voice tinged with a mix of earnestness and hesitation. he knew he couldn't, not really. the risk of being seen outside the venue with a fan was far too great — jaemin learned that the hard way. but still, there was something about your presence, something that made him want to break the rules just a bit more.

you responded with a wry smile, "nah, i'm good. appreciate it though."

he returned the smile, though a hint of disappointment flickered across his features, swiftly masked by indifference. "alright then, take care."

as you turned to walk away, his gaze lingered, a mixture of longing and apprehension in his eyes. the echo of the performance still reverberated in the air, and the cacophony of the crowd faded into the background. the isolation that often accompanied the applause and adoration settled around him—a sense of detachment despite the proximity to his admirers; to you.

"hey, wait up!" his voice rings out, more desperate than he intends. you stop and turn back to him, a questioning look on your face. "here." he thrusts a piece of paper into your hand, his fingers brushing yours for a moment. in messy scrawl, a ten-digit number is scratched across the paper. he rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, the stage persona melting away to reveal the vulnerability underneath. "call me when you get where you're headed."

you take the paper, feeling surprise and curiosity bloom in your chest. "sure, i will." a smirk tugs at the corners of your lips as you tuck the slip of paper into the pocket of your skirt, a secret kept close to your heart. "have a good night, rockstar."

his eyes meet yours, a silent exchange that speaks volumes. in that moment, no other words are needed to understand that this is a fleeting connection, a chapter in a story that will continue for him in different cities, with different faces. another show, another night, another girl.

another fake number.

A. NOTE: this can be read as a standalone, but it is also part of a bigger series i've yet to release. so if you like this one shot, please let me know! you can send in an ask, or comment, reblog, or like <3

TAGLIST: @peachjaem00 @mrkis @downtonbabyah @vangoes @cutiepeas @yujuvly @nuttie-nv-blog @seuomo @mrkleelvr @kazuhateez @chardonnayyyy @hyuckiegirlfriend @jwijii @meowniee @leep0ems @hibye02 @girlwholoveslpreppyattire

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