#hotel carpet patterns | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

confessioncassette · 3 months

Text

𝐑𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝟏𝟖+. 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

𝐭𝐰 : 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐳𝐳𝐞𝐝, 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐜𝐨𝐧, 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐧𝐚𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 : 𝟐.𝟗𝐤

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 : 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧, 𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨 𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐝𝐯𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞. 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃. 𝐈 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝, 𝐢 𝐰𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 - 𝐰𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐧

Embarrassing.

That would describe it. The vulnerable feeling walking up the entrance of, happy hotel? Hazbin Hotel?

You didn’t even make it a week in hell. Waking up in this place confused you, you’re not really sure why you’re here. You weren’t a terrible human on Earth, maybe it was lust? Greed? Who knows, but this place makes you sick. You’ve encountered horrors from every corner- robbings, gruesome killings, torture- it just wasn’t your scene. Having to pick yourself up in eternal hell with nothing but the clothes on your back was difficult.

Until a commercial from the Hazbin Hotel played on a TV while you were walking down the street.

Would they take you? It would be hell of a lot better to be here than the street. Maybe you could have a chance at redemption… it would be nice to be in heaven. No more paranoia, sleepless nights, or having your soul burn forever. It’d be a fresh start, to flip a new leaf. You could do it, just-

“Why hello there!”

The abruptness of the front door to the hotel startled you back into reality.

A tall man resting his hands atop of a cane, dressed in a red suit greets you happily.

“Hello, I saw your commercial,” you present the poorly drawn hotel poster to him, “I was wondering if you had room for me?”

The man tilts his head to the side, sizing you up and down for a second.

“Splendid! Yes, of course, my dear we have plenty of room for you. I’m Alastor, the host of this hotel, and you are?” The demon stuck out his hand, patiently waiting for you to take it.

You introduce yourself and shake his hand. Alastors grip is firm and within a millisecond, he eagerly jerks you into the hotel.

“Pleasure to be meeting you, my dear! Quite the pleasure, welcome to the Hazbin Hotel!”

He gestures to the main lobby with his free hand.

“We recently underwent some renovations after the extermination. Everything is brand new and in tip top shape. So don’t you worry your pretty little head about an old rickety hotel. You’ll be staying in luxury!” His cane thuds on the marble floor, emphasizing his last word.

The hotel is beautiful, you’ve seen nothing like it. Stunningly high vaulted ceilings with walls decorated in patterned maroon wallpaper, beautiful velvet curtains draping the large windows, golden light fixtures, a push carpet acting as a runway leading up to a giant staircase in the middle of the lobby. A bar to the left, and a common room to the right. Everything is spaced out, but it feels home-y.

Maybe this wasn’t a bad decision after all.

Alastor was a pure gentleman. He was polite, entertaining and a bit of a sweet talker. He gave you a thorough tour throughout the hotel, and everything is much more than the commercial seemed.

You met the current residents at the hotel as well, who welcomed you with open arms. And the princess of hell, Charlie, was the most ecstatic to meet you. Bringing you into a giant hug, her eyes practically glistened with joy, “We are here to help you, and we are so happy you’re here!”

–

You hit 1 month today.

Walking down the grand entrance stairs you were surprised by all your friends congratulating you on your “anniversary.”

A poorly made sign (KunGratZ!), most likely made by Nifty, hung over the bar, balloons scattered the marble floor and everyone was waiting for you by the large dining table. In the middle of it, sat a beautifully decorated white and red cake.

“Happy 1 month today,” Charlie squeals, “you’ve been doing great!”

Despite this being a small accomplishment, Charlie and Vaggie planned the rest of the day in celebration of you.

Everyone enjoyed games, drinks and some people even gave you gifts. Nifty gave you a handmade knife, “to kill the angels”, Charlie made you a bracelet, Angel got you a lovely pink robe, Vaggie gifted you a pair of stockings. Husk gave you all the alcohol you could want, while trying to teach you how to gamble. You and Angel danced to music played by Alastor’s microphone cane until everyone joined in. By the end of the night, everyone had their fill of alcohol and food.

You ache with gratitude.

It was quite a lot for 1 month living here, but this is what they do. It’s only been a month, but it feels like family- your home.

And by midnight, Husk asked what your goal in hell would be.

“To be redeemed. To go to heaven and live forever as a pure soul! Thank you for everything you have done for me so far guys.”

“Cheers to that,” he nods, lifting up a glass of whiskey. “To you, dear friend.”

–

“Alright, goodnight toots, I’m off ta bed.” Angel stretches, getting up from the sofa. You both were engaged in deep drunk conversation for a few hours now. Circling the drink in your glass, you suppose it’s time for you too to get off to bed.

“Goodnight, Angel.” You smile as he blows a kiss in return before he exits the living room.

Yawning, you get up from the sofa, almost falling. How much have you had? You’re buzzed pretty bad.

“Need help, my dear?” The familiar static-y voice lingers behind you.

“Oh, Alastor-think i had t’much.” You smile and you can feel your flushed cheeks radiate heat.

“Now, now sweetheart. You’re in good hands. May I?” A gentle hand comes to rest on your lower back.

You nod, letting him easily scoop you up. Your face cradles into his neck. Feels kind of funny, having the spins and being carried.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” His voice rumbles in his chest as he talks.

You giggle, “Keep talking, it feels nice.”

He hums and it satisfies you. “Everyone is proud of you. Not many people in hell are open to the option of being rehabilitated or changed. You should be incredibly proud of yourself.”

“Did you have fun tonight?”

“I sure did, sweet girl. I loved playing all your tunes tonight. I haven’t heard of most of them, but they were catchy.”

Your weight in his arms shift as he walks up the stairs.

“How long have you been in hell?” You ask.

“For quite some time. I could tell you hundreds of stories about how hell was before you got here. Maybe stories before most people got here. The times are changin’.”

“A lil’ over a month f’me,” you grumble, “I don’t know why I came in the first place.”

“Now darling, you’re at the safest place in hell. Don’t you worry, soon enough you’ll be climbing up that ladder to heaven.”

You sigh.

“Isn’t that what you want?” His ear twitches.

It takes you a moment to reply, trying to collect all your runaway thoughts.

“Yes, but, do we know this even works? Does all this work like that? Am I really able to cleanse my soul?” Your chin lifts up to meet his eyes already staring back at you.

Alastors boots click down the hallway and stop at front of your door. Without putting you down, your door clicks and opens. You keep talking to him as he gently lays you down on your bed. Your plush pillows and soft bedding caress you, trying to lull you to sleep in your drunken state.

“I thought souls stay here to burn forever. I never thought a place like this would even exist in a world like…this.”

Alastor stands next to your bed, red eyes gleaming down on you through the darkness of your room. His figure half illuminated by the moon, microphone at the top of his cane reflecting in the light.

“Charlie is a dreamer.” He sighs and shrugs his shoulders. “She believes it can be done.”

With your eyes fighting to stay open, you close them and put the emptiness beside your bed. “But do you believe it can be done? Keep talking to me, Alastor. I like when y’talk. You know you were my first friend here?”

“Darling, you’re a pleasure to be around. Your company brings a lighter feel to a room.” He coos as he settles himself. Your bed dips as he sits.

“Maybe one day you can come up to heaven with me. Wouldn’t that be fun? We could foxtrot on the clouds.” You giggle.

“You might need a few more lessons in that before then dear, but yes, I suppose that sounds like a grand ol’ time.”

He waits a moment before speaking again, “You really want to get to heaven, don’t you?”

You mumble a yes to him, “You didn’t answer me before Alastor. About if you believe it can be done?”

He adjusts himself to face you directly. “I know it can be done.”

Your eyes shoot open.

“Really? How?”

“If it’s cleansing your soul you’re looking for, I can do that myself.”

“Really? You perk up, “You’d help me?”

He cocks his head to the side, looking down at you through hooded eyes. That cat like grin grows wide.

“Of course! I’m the radio demon, look at all the things I’ve done to this hotel. All the things I’ve done to protect this place. Now, I don’t go around telling people this, so keep this our little secret,darling would you?” He waits for you to nod excitedly. “I once helped someone get to those pearly gates before.”

A demon like him was able to help someone go to heaven before? Alastor is so many great things, you’ve seen it yourself, but this? This was your ticket. He could do this for you, and he’s always helped you before. He’s never let you down. Alastor has been your tride and true.

The smile on your face shows Alastor all too well that you believe him. He knows your pretty head is filled with trust. He’s never given anyone a reason not to. And he knows how naive you are. A sweet, simple naive little girl. So new to this world…

“I’ll do the best that I can every day if you can grant me this one wish, Alastor. I’ll work hard and you cleanse my soul.”

Alastors eyes darken as his ears twitch.

“Make that a deal?” He leans in, extending his hand to you like he did that first day. The first day of your new life in hell. His ears twitch in anticipation, and you take it a second later.

“A deal! Thank you so mu-”

In an instant, you’re pushed down on the bed.

Alastors body is quick to climb over yours. His hands have an iron grip on your wrists.

“Might as well cleanse your soul now, right darling? No better time to, no time to waste!”

You gasp and wiggle in his grip. As if agitated, his knee pushes up and into your leg, making you open for him. The dress you wear slides up to your waist as he does this.

“What is it? Don’t believe me?” He pouts, fakeness and mockery ooze through his voice.

“No-I,” your brain is hazy from the alcohol. Your mind is spinning a million miles a minute.

“Good, never doubt me again.” He growls, voice stuttering and filled with loud static. Pushing your wrists deeper into the bed, he places his hips between your legs.

“You want to see those gates in the sky? You want to leave?”

His hips grind into yours, his cock already hard. The coarseness of his pants hit into every nerve of your clit.

“I-” you begin.

“Don’t I do enough for you here? Cleansing a soul, HA!” One of his hands shoots down between your legs and rubs harsh circles over your bundle of nerves.

You let out a moan and arch your back off the bed. Unsure of why your body is responding to him like this.

“You trust me, yes? So allow me to cleanse your soul, by chaining yours to me.”

Your brain is too busy swirling to realize what you just did, the deal you just made, and the giant loophole Alastor just wiggled his way into. You buck your hips into his touch, your slick coating your panties. His fingers dance over your covered clit, made easy by your juices collecting there.

His fingers press roughly into your nerves, and you’re becoming an unholy mess. Your eyes fuse shut, feeling every movement he gives you. And it feels fucking good…

“Feels s’good,” you moan. Bucking your hips relentlessly now, silently begging for him to keep going.

“I’ll play nice, since you ever so graciously trusted me with your soul.” He coos, upping his pace for you. His lips come down to gently kick your neck.

“Let go, be a good girl and cum for me.”

It’s torture. His rough hands give steady and hard pressure, rubbing little fast circles, all while his mouth gives you coaxing soft kisses.

“I’m gunna-”

His eyes are blown wide, a snarl catches his smile as he eagerly watches every muscle in your face as your head lolls to the side. Your beautiful mouth slacks open and your moans play him a lovely song.

And there it goes, the pressure in your lower belly breaks. You give him everything he wants. Hot pleasure sizzles every corner of your body and you hump his hand through your orgasm.

He hums as he watches you work your way down until you slowly stop grinding your hips into his.

“Up you go, sweet girl.” Hands cradle your back, picking you up slightly to position you to the edge of the bed. Always with care as if every movement was thought out and afraid to break you.

His body now stands at the edge of the bed, hands pressing your knees open and then guiding your legs around his waist.

“Who do you belong to now?” He effortlessly takes his cock out of his pants. No time for removing clothes.

You look down to see him. He’s big, you’re not sure you could take that…

A hand grips your face, “I know you’re curious darling, and you’ll have your fill, but don’t ignore me again or I’ll make this hurt more than you want.”

His face is so close to yours now, you can feel the tip of his cock poking at your clit and it makes you melt.

“Yours, Alastor.”

He gently grinds his cock over your clit. All the way down the shaft to where his balls press against your slick opening, to all the way back up to his tip. He does this slowly, watching your every move like you're prey. His prey, ready to devour you in an instant.

“What’s mine, now?” He asks, cocking his head to the side. His antlers grow bigger and the grip on your waist now pricks with pain from his claws.

“My soul, my soul is yours.” His cock sliding up and down your cunt makes your furrow your brows and whimper for him. You don’t care, you don’t give a fuck, you just want him to keep making you feel the way you do right now.

“Good girl.” Positioning himself to your opening, he dips his tip in just to catch your juices. As he pulls out, he slicks your wetness in circles over your opening, coating himself with you.

Without warning, he thrusts in with one sharp movement. You gasp, mouth open for him, and he forcibly sticks his fingers in your mouth. His thumb acts as a hook under your chin.

“You’re bonded to me forever,” he growls. The fingers in your mouth press down on your tongue as he begins a steady and rough pace. Your body bounces back and forth on the bed, sliding yourself onto him over and over again. You give into the sensation and your body goes limp with pleasure. Your knees slack dead weight to the sides, but your feet still link behind his waist.

“You’re a lovely sight, who knew you were so naive. A pretty, little naive baby who doesn’t know any better.”

You coat his fingers with saliva, and he’s fixated on watching it roll down his arm and your neck, letting it pool on the comforter.

“Look at you, I already broke you, ha!”

His pace begins to quicken. “You’re so good for me. It drives me mad.”

He fucks up into you at a relentless pace, everytime he thrusts into you his cock kisses your cervix, over and over and over…

“Is my darling going to take my cum? I’m going to fill your little cunt.” His hand forces your head to nod for him, and you do your best to say yes with his fingers still in your mouth.

“You’re clenching around me so hard, I know you want my cock to fill you up.” Taking his hand out of your mouth, his wet hand finds your hip. His hands curl around you, claws wrapping around the small of your back, bouncing you back and forth onto him.

His eyes are wild, his snarl exposes his gums and his ears are flat as he humps into you just one more time until snarling in your ear as he fills you up. You can feel his pulsing cock deep within you as his warmth seeps in every corner of your cunt.

He grinds into you as he finishes his high. Once he’s done, his grip on you loosens and fingers smooth over the scars he left.

The smile on his face is dark as he looks into your eyes.

His toy for eternity.

#alastor smut #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #tw dubcon #tw manipulation

1K notes · View notes

houseofanticipation · 1 month

Text

It's impossible to count the number of times you've imagined this moment. Late at night, under the covers; in the bathtub, and the shower; on slow days at the bookstore, the summer before senior year; during Mr. Madrigal's long, droning lectures. You fantasized so vividly you could see each scene on the back of your eyelids, hear each sound between breaths. Many a time your hand migrated southward, almost of its own volition. If you were in public, you'd hold it against your crotch, pressing it into yourself with the force of your clenched thighs. In private, you'd be far less subtle.

In all those fantasies, you never imagined it would look quite like this.

The hallway smells like cigarettes and industrial cleaner. The haphazardly patterned carpet is coming up at the edges. The yellow tube light overhead might be attempting morse code, the way it flickers. Paint peels from the door in front of you, and one of the metal digits in the room number has been replaced with one that doesn't quite match: room 233. You raise your hand, your knuckles inches from the door, and then you pause. You're not sure if you can go through with this.

Before you can decide, the door opens anyway.

You started posting pictures in your first year of college. It was just your tits at first. You'd been quietly following those subreddits and tumblr blogs for a while, and you thought it would be a bit of fun, a little thrill. You didn't expect the response you got: dozens of people telling you how much they'd enjoyed it, asking for more. So you posted more, and the people asked for different things. Post your ass. Post your cunt. Post your fingers in your cunt. Post audio of you moaning as you came. The more you revealed of yourself, the more attention you got, and the more attention you got, the more you wanted to show. People wanted to send you tips, so you set up a Cash App address. You never got much, a few dollars here and there, but it was nice to get a free coffee now and then.

And somewhere along the way, apparently, you let slip that you were a virgin.

The message came late last semester, from a Cash App user whose name was just a string of numbers. It read, "I will buy your virginity for $100,000. So you know I'm serious, here is $7000 for you to keep, deal or no deal. Let me know if interested."

It was like one of those hypotheticals you talk about with your friends at the dinner table. Would you work nonstop for a year if it meant you never had to work again? Would you cut off your hand if it meant you never had to die? Would you let a stranger from the internet take your virginity for a hundred thousand dollars? You thought about it for weeks. The 7 thousand in itself was a windfall you never could have imagined. It was the new laptop you needed, four times over. It was a large iced coffee ever day for three and a half years. After graduation, if you were smart, it could be your living expenses for the better part of a year. But a hundred thousand might be a house, or a car, or a few years of freedom to pursue your goals. And when you asked how you could trust him to pay when he'd gotten what he wanted, he told you he'd be happy to pay up front.

So here you are, in a dingy hotel, face to face with the broad-shouldered, potbellied older man in front of you. "I saw you through the peephole," he says. There's something impish about him. Maybe it's the toothy grin, or the way his ears stick out from his head, or the obvious glee in his voice as he looks you up and down. "My, you're much better in person. Come in! You got the money then?"

You nod. You didn't leave the Lyft until it was there in your account.

"Good," he says, throwing the dead bolt. "Let's get to it then, shall we?"

"What should...I mean, how do you want to..." you feel yourself talking strangely. Breathing in the wrong places, words tumbling over each other. "Maybe we should...talk first? Get to know each other?"

"No need for that," says the man matter-of-factly, unbuttoning his shirt. His chest is smooth, his skin a mottled pink. He waves a hand at your body. "Go ahead and get those off."

Back in high school, one of your recurring fantasies involved Jason Meier having his way with you in the back of that beat up convertible he used to drive. That old thing used to get you so wet. It was a piece of junk, but something about the exposure of it...In the fantasy, he's driven you out to some secluded spot outside of town. Cicadas drone all around. The night sky shines bright with stars. He cups your face with one hand, strokes your cheek with his thumb, asks you if this is your first time. He kisses the side of your mouth, then your jaw, then below your ear, then down your neck. As his hands undo the top button of your blouse, he tells you he'll be gentle.

The man is watching you expectantly. With his shirt on, he looked like a portly old man. Without it you can see that every inch of that stocky build is hard muscle. That pink skin strains against his mass, muscle rippling beneath it as he moves. "What are you waiting for?"

Your legs tremble. Your knees feel like they're about to buckle. You can hear your heart pounding in your ears. Your body has never done this before. You didn't know you could feel this kind of fear, and yet there's nothing to fight, nowhere to flee. You agreed to this. You decided this was what you wanted. Slowly, you pull your shirt over head.

He groans in the back of his throat, a long, growly sound. His face is a mask of focus, the impish joviality gone, his eyes fixated on your breasts. "And the rest."

You kick off your shoes, pull off your socks. An inch at a time, you slide your shorts and panties over your ass, down your legs, past your trembling knees. You step out of them, and now you're completely exposed. You cross your arms over your chest, then lower them when he grunts disapproval. Almost urgently, he unbuttons his pants, pulls out a long, rigid cock, and begins to stroke himself.

You didn't discover internet porn until your senior year, and before then the only penises you'd seen were a few drawings in your health textbook. In the fantasy, you unbutton Jason Meier's pants and fig. 7.5, "The penis becomes engorged when in state of arousal," pops out of his underwear. You take it in your hands, feeling the weight of it, the girth, and look up into those beautiful brown eyes of his.

This cock is much...realer. It has bounce, texture, even a sound as his hand slides up and down its length. It's longer than the one in that old fantasy, too, and it leans slightly to the left. For years you've wondered what it would be like to see a cock in person, and now that you're here it terrifies you.

"Come here," says the man, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Get on your knees."

You falter. "You didn't...I mean, we didn't agree to that."

"I bought your virginity," says the man. "You ever suck cock before?"

You shake your head.

"Then your mouth is just as much a virgin as your cunt. Get down here."

It's almost a relief to get off your legs, the way they've been threatening to give out. Close up, you can see the purples and blues of the veins under his skin. The head of his cock pulses with anticipation as your lips part, your tongue extends...

You don't think you can do this.

Then his hand is on the back of your head.

You always imagined Jason Meier whimpering as you took him into your mouth. You were never quite able to picture what he would feel like between your lips, on your tongue; the movie camera of your imagination always panned up at that point, to focus on his face. He would let his head fall back in pleasure, eyebrows knit with sensation, lips slightly parted. Now, though, there's no camera to pan. You are here. This is real. And his powerful hand is pushing your mouth onto his cock.

A sound you can't control comes out of you. Your back arches, your hands flail, and then by pure instinct they're on his belly, pushing against him, away from him. Spit runs down your chin, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand. "I'm sorry," you say, looking anywhere but at his face. "I'm sorry, I can't, I thought I could do this but I can't."

There's a horrible darkness in his voice. "I already gave you the money."

"I know, I'll give it back, I'm sorry." The words trip over each other on the way out of your mouth. "I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have, I just, I thought I could..."

His hand is on the back of your head again, and this time his fingers are curled tight into your hair. He jerks your head back, forcing you to look at him, and his eyes are cold and predatory. "I'm not interested in returning what's already bought and paid for." He jams himself back into your mouth.

You always imagined yourself savoring it, taking your time to explore every inch of Jason's length with your tongue, but there's no time for that now. The veiny, throbbing thing in your mouth bypasses your tongue entirely, forcing past your uvula. You gag, then gag again. Your stomach churns and you convulse as your body tries to remove the foreign object, but the man just pushes harder. Your eyes water as he slides deeper, deeper, making your throat bulge, your limbs spasm. As his balls touch your chin, you close your eyes and try to relax your throat.

He holds you like that. You gag for a third time, and thick saliva explodes through the gaps around his cock, dripping down your chin and collecting in a long, dangling rope. Tears roll down your cheeks as you try to acclimatize to the feeling, try to convince your body that nothing is wrong. You think you've got it, and then he moves slightly, and you're gagging again. He groans, grips your head tighter, and in the back of your throat you feel his cock swell slightly. He likes it when you gag for him, says a voice in the back of your mind. The motion is pleasurable for him.

You've got another problem rearing its head. You can't breathe. It was fine at first, but the man shows no interest in freeing up your airways, and in all the gagging and crying, you haven't exactly been conserving your oxygen. You pat his leg, trying to signal to him, but all he does is clap you on the side of the head. Your ear rings, you gag again, and his cock throbs. Black walls are closing in on your vision. The effort of struggling against him becomes too much, and your arms fall to your sides. Your eyelids flutter. You're going to pass out. You're going to pass out, and then what will he do to you?

But just before the world fades to black, he pulls your head back again. You feel every inch of his cock as it slides out of your throat. He lifts your face, and your eyes struggle to focus on his as you take lungful after lungful of glorious air. Drool spills across your lips, but you don't care. You're alive.

The man slaps you hard, leaving a stinging impression of his palm on your cheek. You whimper. Two of his fingers are in your mouth, pushing on the back of your tongue. Not knowing exactly why, you close your lips around them and shut your eyes.

"That's better," he says.

The first time you saw a male sex toy in use was in an ad before a porn video you were watching. You were taken aback by the way the performer had pounded it over his cock, barely more than an extension of his hand. You're reminded of that image as he parts your lips again, and the rape of your throat begins in earnest.

You haven't thought about Jason Meier in years, but at this moment he's the only thing keeping you sane. As your face rams up and down, up and down, you retreat to that beat up convertible, and Jason's soft, thoughtful face. As the man tightens his grip, Jason runs his fingers through your hair. As the man grunts and growls with pleasure, Jason coos your name. With each stroke of his cock down your throat, each spasm of your body, you focus on a different part of Jason's body: his large hands, his long fingers, his shoulders, his jawline, his liquid brown eyes. By the time the man finally releases your hair, you can barely feel your body any more. The convertible is far more real than the squeaky motel bed. The hands on your body are Jason's, soft and tender.

He climbs over the center console straddling you. You lock lips, feel your tongues in each other's mouths, kiss so deeply that it feels as though you share the same breath. He pulls the lever to lay your seat back, and then he's over you, on top of you, lifting your skirt, pulling your panties to the side.

This is the part where, in the old days, you would have slipped a finger or two inside yourself. But this time you don't have to. This time you can feel him inside you, really feel him, and he fills you up like your fingers never could. There's some pain—they told you there'd be pain, didn't they, your first time—but it falls away to the thrill, the lust, the pleasure. Jason whimpers as he slides into you, deeper, deeper, and you moan into each other's mouths as his pelvis meets yours. You take a moment to savor it, breathing each other in, and then he begins to thrust.

You feel drunk. It's exactly like you always imagined it, and somehow better than you could ever have expected. Each movement of his hips brings another sensation: a spasm in the arches of your feet, a hitch in your breath, a churning, swirling need in the depths of your abdomen. Deeper you tell him, harder, and he obliges, pulling you into him, and him into you.

You can feel the orgasm building, but it isn't like any you've had before. Every time you've ever cum, you've been in control. This time, Jason is in control. Jason decides when you cum, how you cum. One hand supports his weight as he leans over you, and the other slides up your belly. You used to watch those hands obsessively. The way he held a pencil, the way he bit his knuckles when he was thinking. Now that hand slides up, caresses your breast. Now that thumb brushes your hair out of your face. Now those fingers close around your throat.

You know you're safe with Jason, but the pressure on your throat triggers some animal fear response in you. You try to squirm away, but his arm is strong, and his hand his firm. Your hands go to his wrist. "I don't like that, stop." He just smiles. It isn't his usual sweet smile, either. This one is cruel. Predatory.

Your face feels tight. Your eyes bulge. You're beginning to panic for real now. "Jason, seriously, stop!" You beat at his arm with your fists, but he easily takes both your wrists in one hand and pins them over your head. You try to kick at him, but he's already past your defenses, between your legs, pushing them uselessly apart. His grip tightens, his rhythm increases, his cock swells inside you. He's getting off on this.

All at once you're back in the hotel room. The man's sweaty red face is inches away from your own, and the lust in his eyes is obvious. His cock seems to push deeper with every thrust, and the horrible thing is that the orgasm is still coming. It's close now, you can feel it, and it's like he knows exactly how to bring it out. You feel floaty, tingly, and that awful pleasure is welling up inside you, a pot about to boil over...

"That's right," he says, his eyes locked on yours. "That's what I was waiting for. That perfect mix of...pleasure...and...fear." He punctuates each of these last three words with a long, deep thrust, and it's these that send the orgasm spilling over. A choked moan pushes itself out of you as your back arches, your toes curl, your legs wrap involuntarily around his waist, tears roll down your cheeks. That floaty feeling has combined with the orgasm to create something like how you imagine heroin must feel; a wave of mind numbing, soul deadening ecstasy. Your insides feel hot, and at first you think that must just be what it feels like when you cum from sex, but then you see the look on his face and realize that he's cumming too. His grip relaxes and he pounds away a few more times at your now-limp body. You stare at the ceiling as he moans, buries his face between your tits, pumps round after round of his warm, thick cum into your cunt, your womb. After one final push he collapses onto you, his cock still inside you, his bulk crushing you into the bed. You don't move.

He strokes your cheek. Fondles your nipple. Kisses your neck. Then he kisses your mouth, his tongue pushing your lips open, his breath like damp earth. You barely see him.

It must be almost ten minutes before he finally gets up, his limp cock sliding out of you at last. You can feel his cum dripping from your cunt as he puts on his underwear, then pants, then shirt, then shoes. "The room is paid for the night," he says with his hand on the door handle. "Thank you for struggling. Taking someone's virtue is so much better when you actually get to take it.

You don't respond.

You don't know how long you lie there, motionless, dripping cum. Oddly, the man who just raped you isn't the one burned onto your mind's eye. Try as you might to return to that sweet teenage fantasy, all you can see is Jason Meier as he held his hand to your throat, and that cruel, predatory smile on his face.

#CW im told this one is realer than usual so be warned #r@pe fantasy #cnc free use #cvmdump #cvmslvt #breeding toy #r@petoy #r@pe kink

441 notes · View notes

oneforthemunny · 1 month

Text

home is wherever i'm with you |hockey player!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: life on the road during hockey season is far less glamorous than you thought it would be. homesick and lonely, eddie tries to get you feeling better.

also special thank you to @angietherose for the name of the au hockey team :) eddie is officially on the indy reapers! thank you to all who voted as well!

contains: fluff, but there is slight angst at the beginning. mentions of loneliness, a little depression. slight-ish tension or strain on the relationship, but you know i make it happy at the end lol. language.

Pasadena, California - 1993

Day seventeen on your six week excursion with Eddie. Well, excursion was a generous thing to call what this was. You were feeling more like a groupie for the Indianapolis Reapers, a puck bunny as Eddie’s teammates snickered, brows raised in suggest when they’d pass jersey clad girls lingering around their buses. Stop after stop- press, practice, training, games, all over the nation.

A suitcase full of clothes you’d grown sick of already, longing to go home and trade them for something different, washing them in the sharp, sterile detergent of the hotels. You longed for your own sheets, perfumed with your own detergent.

Eddie was gone for most of the day. You tried to sightsee on your own, explore the cities but it was lonely, lacking someone to giggle with over lattes, to hold your hand in the street, just to talk to. The other WAGS that came along, stuck out the long haul across the states, clung to each other, comfortable in their own little clique. You were too new, an outsider to their group.

“Hey, babe,” Eddie pressed the key into the lock, twisting the heavy latch open. “Babe, do you have that stuff? Did you bring it?” He hummed, dropping his bag at the door, kicking off his sneakers.

His nose curled at the pungent smell, ripe from the warming weather of California. “Jesus Christ, I gotta wash this stuff. I’m sorry, I’ll put it in the laundry thing.” Eddie hummed, sliding the slotted closet door open. “Can’t believe how warm it is here already. Feels so nice outside. You’ve been outside today, sweetheart?” He rambled, sweetly, tossing the powdered detergent into the washer, shoving the workout clothes from his bag into the tiny machine.

The steady hum of the air conditioner filled the room, his only response. Eddie’s brows lifted, jamming the button of the washer, sliding the door back into place. He didn’t remember hearing you say you were leaving today, but he had taken a pretty hard hit to the glass during practice, ears still ringing dully.

“Baby?” Eddie called, opening the bathroom door, empty of you other than the scattered products on the vanity. Heavy steps on the patterned carpet, Eddie walked into the bedroom suite, halting at the edge of the crumpled sheets.

You laid on your side, still in what he’d left you in that morning, eyes puffy and red rimmed looking motionlessly out the window. “Hey, I thought you- I was, uh, I was just talking but-” Eddie’s heart beat in his throat, uneasy at the sight of you, crumpled in the sheets. “Are you ok?”

You turned, cheek still pressed to your arms under the pillow, just enough to see him- all wild curls, matted and frizzy with helmet hair. “Yeah,” You croaked, throat scratchy and sore with sobs that had stilled hours ago, still you were plagued with the aftershocks of weeks of suppressed emotion.

“I- I’m not trying to sound like a dick or anything here, but you’re clearly not.” Eddie said softly, slowly approaching the bed. The bed dipped under his weight, a warm hand rubbing over your ankle under the cool sheets.

“Baby,” Your face crumpled at the coo, so sweet, gentle, it made your nose burn. “What’s goin’ on?” Eddie muttered, thumb circling your ankle bone gently.

Your nose burned with a slow, shaky exhale that he felt, rattled all the way down your body under his touch. Eddie’s heart dropped. “Hey, look at me.” Eddie’s voice was softened but sharp, teetering on frantic. You turned, looking at his wide eyes, running over your frame in worry. “What’s goin’ on? What’s the matter?”

Your lip wobbled, head screaming words you couldn’t bring yourself to say- you didn’t know how to say. “I just-” You took a breath, chest stuttering. “I don’t… feel good.”

Eddie’s brows creased, crawling up the bed beside you. “Don’t feel good, like, sick?” He muttered, the back of his hand pressing to your palm. “You don’t feel hot t’me. What hurts? Is it your head still? I told you, baby, that hippie dippie shit only works so much. You have to take medicine-”

“-No,” You shook your head, eyes squeezing tightly to keep your tears at bay. “It’s-it’s not that.”

Eddie blinked carefully. “What? Is it, like, the time of the month? D’ya need me to go get some stuff for you? You know I don’t mind to. Not a problem for me, baby, just tell me what you need.” Eddie’s head tilted to the side, so sweet and doting, it made your chest heat with swarming guilt and adoration.

“I’m not on my period. It’s nothing, Ed.” You shook your head, curling back into your pillow.

Eddie stilled above you. “Are- Are you pregnant?” He whispered.

“No.” You groaned quickly, head shaking into the warmth of the pillows.

Eddie sighed lightly, a huff of relief that fell short, when your body turned from him, back towards the window with a long inhale. “Hey, can you- can you look at me? Please? Look at me, baby.” Eddie’s pitch raised, teetering towards scared, his hand on your shoulder, pushing you gently so you rolled on your back.

He hovered over you, curls falling down nearly brushing your cheeks. “Tell me what’s going on. Please? Tell me what’s wrong.” Eddie whispered, nearly a beg. “You don’t feel good? You don’t feel good here?” His throat swelled, tight with fear. “With me?”

Your silence had Eddie’s stomach twisting, dropping with fear, bile rising in the back of his throat- he was going to be sick, he was sure he would be.

“No,” You muttered, head shaking lightly under the pillow. “Not with you, just,” You reached up, nervously twirling his curl around your finger. “Just with this.”

Eddie swallowed, willing himself still, calm, though his heart felt like it might give out. “This? Wh-What do you mean this?” Eddie’s voice shook.

You blinked up at him, eyes rounding in a sad softness he hadn’t seen before. “I just… I miss being home.” You whispered, eyes glossing with a fresh wave of tears that pricked your waterline. “I miss seeing my friends, and being in my own bed, a-and even work. I just,” Your breath hitched, lip trembling. “I’m just really lonely.”

Eddie was sure his heart did give out, break right in his chest, sunk right to the pit of his stomach. “Do you- You wanna go home?” Eddie’s hand ran down your cheek gently. “That’s what you want? That would make you feel better?”

Your face crumbled, caved into itself at his tone. “I-I don’t know.” You admitted, eyes squeezed shut to keep the tears in. “I don’t want to leave you, b-but I don’t-” You pressed your palms to your eyes, taking a slow inhale through your nose. “I just don’t want to be alone so much. A-And I know that’s not your fault. I know you’re working.”

When your eyes did meet his, Eddie wished they’d stayed closed, heartbreakingly sad, vacant of that light that usually shone through, brightening anything cast in your gaze. “I just… I’m feeling homesick, ‘m sorry.” You muttered. “I just really miss home, and I’m having a bad day.”

“You don’t- Don’t apologize.” Eddie shook his head. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were feelin’ like this.” Eddie swallowed, pulling you up gently. Your body was slack, limp with unmotivated movement, but still, you settled into his arms. The tension in your body melted, nose buried in the material of his shirt, lathered in cologne and the hot California air.

“I have a half day tomorrow.” Eddie muttered, his heart beating fast, you could hear it, feel it. His hand smoothed up your back. “We’ll do something. Go exploring and stuff. Do some fun stuff.”

“You’re ‘sposed to rest.” You muttered, cheek squished to his chest. “It’s before your game, you’re supposed to be resting.”

“Yeah, but that is resting.” Eddie shook his head gently. “I’ll be alright. Promise. Played after way worse. Me and Josh used to come in hungover, vomited on the ice one time.” Eddie’s chest rumbled with soft laughter. “Pretty sure we’re the reason that rule’s in place now.”

Your lips curled, even through your sullen, dazed mood, you couldn’t help it. Clinging to him tighter, you moved into his touch. “Coach just means take it easy like, don’t go get fucked up and actually sleep the night before.” Eddie muttered, chin tucking down onto your head. “C’mon, lemme take you out tomorrow. Me and you. Go anywhere you want.”

You didn’t reply. Instead, sighed gently, settling into his hold.

Eddie was restless through all of morning practice, hands buzzing, ready to run to the rental car at the first dismissal. Shower be damned, he’d take a quick one at the hotel, he couldn’t be held up any longer.

“What’s goin’ on with you, Munson?” Elijah muttered, next to Eddie in the huddle on the ice, the coach’s droning about protocol for the game.

“Nothin’.” Eddie whispered back, twisting his stick in his hands. “Just wish he’d fuckin’ hurry up.”

Elijah’s eyes cut to Eddie, snorting lightly. “You got somewhere to be?”

“Yeah, I do actually.” Eddie sighed out. “Gotta get back. Promised my girl I’d take her out.”

Elijah’s brows raised. “Shit, you brought her with you?”

Eddie’s shoulders tensed. “She wanted to come.” He muttered defensively. “I mean, she wanted to. Now it’s kinda fucked, she’s-” Eddie’s eyes cut around him. “She’s kinda homesick.”

Elijah nodded slowly. “Yeah, that happens.” He fought back a smile. “When’s the last time you took her out?”

Eddie’s eyes cut to him, defensive with accusation. “It’s not like that. I take her out.”

“Yeah? On the off day? After we’ve traveled all day?” Elijah snorted, shaking his head. “C’mon, Munson. Believe me, that doesn’t count.”

Eddie ignored him, gripping his stick with furious annoyance. The fuck did he know? He didn’t know anything.

“Look, I’m not tryna piss you off. I did it, too. Just- believe me, alright? That one day shit doesn’t work.” Elijah pressed gently.

“Hey, I got it, alright? I’m good.” Eddie growled.

Elijah held his hands up in defense. “Alright, I’m just saying, when it was me,” He started. “I wasn’t meaning to. I just wasn't used to it. Had my own road routine and tried to fit her around it instead of into it. Thought it was going good until it wasn’t.”

Eddie stilled, silent but shoulders slumping lightly. “You gotta change your routine, find a way to fit her into it. She’s on the road too, not just you.” Elijah continued.

The coach whistled, waving them in dismissal. Eddie blinked, pulled out of his daze, lifting his helmet and stick with him. Elijah nodded at him. “Have fun tonight, Munson.” He smiled softly. “Make sure you take her somewhere nice.”

Elijah’s words rang in Eddie’s head all the way back to the hotel, only a short drive from the arena. Eddie nearly threw his keys at the valet, sliding into the elevator shamelessly, bouncing on the balls of his toes until he reached your floor.

You startled when he came in, sitting at the vanity, doing your makeup. “You’re done already?”

“Yeah,” Eddie muttered, ducking down for a kiss. “Just gotta shower real quick, but are you hungry?” He shimmied his workout sweats onto the floor, kicking his socks off with them.

Your eyes lingered over his bare lower half for a second, turning back to paint your mascara on. “I’m not starving.” You mumbled.

“Alright, good, I was gonna see if we could go to this place. I think you’ll like it.” Eddie grinned over his shoulder at you, the hiss of the shower coming to life. “Some guys told me if you’re in Pasadena you gotta go here.” His smile so wide, eyes sparkling in the dim yellowed light of the hotel bathroom, it made your tummy tingle with warm excitement.

“Promise you’re not looking?” Eddie mumbled, hands over your eyes, waddle-walking awkwardly behind you, pressed close to your back.

“Swear I’m not.” You grinned. Eddie was right, it was beautiful outside. Warm and bright, light illuminating his hands that covered your eyes with a reddish glow.

“I can feel you trying to. Your lashes are tickling me.” Eddie muttered, leaving you giggling. “Ok, just- you know what, this is good enough. I’m scared you’re gonna trip.” Eddie said, lips curling at your soft laugh.

“Are you ready for your surprise?” You could hear Eddie’s grin in his voice, a breeze floating between the two of you.

“Yes.” You giggled, Eddie’s chest swelling at the sound. “Just show me. Your hands are clammy. They’re gonna smear my mascara.”

“Shit, sorry.” Eddie muttered sheepishly, a blush spilling on his cheeks, pulling his hands away so they were still in front of you. “Ok, ready?”

“Eddie-”

“-Sorry, Alright, one, two,” Eddie moved his hands, smiling proudly in front of you, a pinkish looking building behind you. “Here it is! Surprise!”

You blinked. “Oh.” You quipped softly.

Eddie blinked, smile falling. “What? I thought you’d- You don’t like it?”

“No,” You shook your head. “I mean, no, that’s- Where are we?”

“Oh,” Eddie shook his head lightly. “Shit, I thought you’d know. Uh, apparently this place is supposed to be like the place for flowers, y’know? Pasadena has that flower festival thing, but it’s not until later and I know you like to go to the cool places, and-” Eddie motioned to the store behind him.

You took in the building, spilling over with plants you could see from the inside. “I, uh, I know you miss home.” Eddie said softly. “And I was just thinking, y’know, we can’t get houseplants like at home, but maybe some bouquets? Some flowers for the hotel room.”

Eddie waited a beat, desperately trying to read your face, eyes wandering over the building and the signs. “I thought maybe you’d pick out some flowers and-and it would make it feel like home.” Eddie’s hands slid down his jeans, hot from the sun beaming on them. “Plus, you wanted to see some around here, a-and y’know… one bird, two stones.” Eddie rambled, shrugging sheepishly.

You felt the familiarity of a cry bubbling back in your chest, swelling and suffocation, only this time the aching of sadness was gone. In its place, a bubbling, burning feeling of adoration was left, consuming you from the inside out with every nervous glance Eddie gave you. He’d listened, really fucking listened. He always did, but this time it was different. Relief, comfort washing over you for the first time in days.

It felt like home.

Like the two of you were back in Hawkins, or Indianapolis even, perusing the usual spots, happy and content to be together in a familiar place.

Eddie wasn’t expecting you to grab him, pull him into you with a fierce, sloppy kiss. Right there on the sidewalk, under the California sunshine. Lips melting into his, clawing and grabbing at his shirt, the back of his neck. Eddie’s cheeks burned bright when you pulled apart, a smile so wide and goofy it made you giggle.

He let you grab his hand, lead him around the flower shop like a lost puppy, picking out anything and everything that made you smile. A bright bouquet spilling out beautifully in the green vase, made just for you.

You sat it right on the small bedside table, beaming at how it livened up the room. Eddie wasn’t sure if it was the flowers or you. Either way, it revived you, made you happier and giddier. Made the sheets of the hotel less cold when you slipped beneath them, legs tangled in his, pinning him under you onto the stiff mattress. It made the room brighter, spilling with a new fragrance that felt familiar.

It was small, a miniscule way that meant the world to you; made you feel at home. Eddie knew it, planning how he’d do it with every next city, until you finally got back home.

457 notes · View notes

lovelyhan · 8 months

Text

— 505 ⟢

i'd probably still adore you with your hands around my neck; or i did, last time i checked.

★ FEATURING; joshua x afab!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 3.4k words

★ TAGS; coworkers au, friends with benefits, typical gentleman in the streets sexual deviant in the sheets joshua, a hint of pining if you squint, slight angst?, smut (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; this specific picture of shua is years old but it incited the most visceral reaction out of me anyway so here we are with another short oneshot that sidetracked me from the monster that i'm SUPPOSED to be writing :| this also turned out a bit more emotional(?) than i originally intended, so heads up on that i guess

★ SMUT TAGS; unprotected sex, shower sex, oral (f receiving), choking, slight dumbification (i'm sorry, i normally have more dignity than this but i miss him so so dearly)

★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti-red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzzz - @lissiesykes - @jeonride - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt - @flwrshwa - @lilylikesthat - @aurorahongg - @whippedforjihoon - @todorokiskitten - @immabecreepin

★ JOSHUA TAGLIST; @yoonzinoooo - @scandal-in-bohemia - @lunaryoongie

Joshua arrives five minutes after the first clap of thunder and ten minutes after the rain started pouring outside.

You hear him before you see him. The automatic lock of the hotel room turns as he scans the spare keycard from outside — one that you made sure to leave with the receptionist in the lobby when he told you he'll be running a little late. When the door swings open, light spills from outside and he greets you with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle and your heart stutter.

It's the same look that makes your female coworkers swoon and giggle to themselves in the office pantry — talk about Joshua's adorable eye smile never straying too far from your ears.

If they knew what kind of person he was past the usual pleasantries, would they still engage in that kind of fanfare?

Joshua is soaked all over when he enters, having tracked rainwater all over the carpeted hallway and into the floor of Room 505. He doesn't seem all too fazed by it though — quickly shrugging off his coat before hanging it behind the flimsy plastic hooks screwed to the back of the door. He shuts it behind him with a kick, sighing through his teeth as he loosens the coil of a sushi-patterned necktie around his collar.

You got that one for him as an exchange gift for last year's Christmas party. Joshua uses it a lot more frequently than you expected him to. In fact, he always wears it during casual Fridays. You're not sure if he actually likes the stupid necktie or he's just trying to get a reaction out of you, but his choice to wear it isn't lost on you either way.

"Team dinners are really something else," Joshua chuckles as he tosses the flimsy material atop the complimentary dining table. He cards his fingers through his damp hair and you try not to think of how good he looks as he does it.

"You should've come with us. It's not often that you see Manager Yoon convince Jihoon to down a shot of soju. Oh, Seungkwan also got his ass handed to him at karaoke with the girls from sales. I had no idea Jihyo could hold her high notes like she means business."

You don't take a bite at his feeble attempt at small talk. He knows damn well why you don't show up to any of Jeonghan's team dinners, but you tell yourself that Joshua's just being polite — still thinking of the outcast of the marketing department despite the fact that you do not want anything to do with the people you work with.

...Although there are some exceptions here and there.

"Really? You're just going to give me the silent treatment all night?" Joshua sighs dramatically as he unbuttons his dress shirt — baring his rain-beaded chest to your unwitting gaze. "Well, if you need a bit more time, I'll go hop in the shower first. You're free to join me if you'd like."

He knows you won't, so you find it strange that he offers each and every time anyway.

You let your gaze wander to the full length mirror attached to the cabinets once the door to the bathroom clicks shut. There's nothing remotely special about your getup tonight. You're still donned in your work clothes — brick gray pencil skirt with a brick gray blazer to match. Apart from the heels sitting on the rack near the door, you're pretty much still in uniform.

You had half the mind to go home and change when Joshua said he's going to dinner and karaoke with your boss and some other colleagues, but that would mean you actually cared about what you looked like in front of him.

Which, for the record, you don't.

You can hear Joshua singing a familiar song in the bathroom — one that he always belts out in the most annoying way possible every time he showers. You wonder if he even knows any other song apart from that, but tell yourself you don't really have any business asking.

As the near-silence persists, however, your thoughts start to wander. Did he also sing this song when he was at karaoke earlier? Did he get to duet the high notes with Jihyo? You wouldn't put it past either of them to do so — being two of the company's renowned social butterflies.

That train of thought brings forth the same question you've been asking ever since the first night you shared this hotel room with Joshua and found him still lying beside you in the morning:

Why'd he choose you?

You're an in by nine and out by five unless there's paid overtime kind of employee. You never bothered establishing any worthwhile friendships in the workspace because you know better than to trust the backstabbing fiends in the corporate ladder. You're perfectly aware of what other people say about your individualistic behavior — how you're the worst team player in your department — but you never really cared.

Not until Joshua Hong inserted himself into your life.

To put it in the easiest way possible, he's the epitome of a perfect coworker. He's the guy that greets you every morning with an charming smile. The guy who drops by your cubicle to give you a coffee he made himself before saying you're doing a great job with that report you're putting together. The guy that everyone just adores simply because he's always been likable from the get-go.

That's the kind of person Joshua is — the exact opposite of you. Surely the jury won't condemn you for always questioning how you wound up spending your Friday nights fucking the man your entire department is basically in love with when you're so unlovable yourself.

Every time you try to recall how your transactional relationship with the company's unofficial sweetheart happened in the first place, your brain simply refuses to cooperate — memories muddled by a few pints of beer too many and an eye-crinkling smile that you're better off not rationalizing.

Besides, it's not like Joshua kisses and tells. Whatever happens in Room 505 stays in Room 505, and that's one of the many reasons why you haven't deigned to walk away from the setup altogether.

You meet up, he makes you feel good — makes you feel wanted — he cycles through whatever aftercare you might need, you fall a little more in love with him, then you both decide if you want to sleep in for a couple more hours or —

Wait.

Did you just admit you're in love with him?

"Hm? Didn't think you'd actually hop in with me today."

Joshua's voice is clearly laced with amusement as you shut the door to the bathroom — cheeks hot with both the steam billowing from the shower and the embarrassment cloying in your chest. You had the foresight to take off your uniform at least, leaving you in an unassuming set of cotton underwear that makes Joshua lick his lips with anticipation.

You make a show of stripping the rest of your clothing before him — nothing but the glass door to the shower separating the both of you. It's nothing sensual, nothing grandiose. You simply take off everything that's keeping your body hidden from your nighttime lover's hungry eyes.

When you step into the warm drizzle of the showerhead, Joshua hums before reaching for a bottle of shampoo — squeezing just the right amount into his palm as he lathers the product into your scalp.

The gentleness weighted into his actions startles you a little — not having expected him to do something so...domestic. You came in here with the full intention of getting fucked against the bathroom wall, but the way he massages your scalp so tenderly makes you reconsider your course of action.

But no matter how much of a gentleman he acts around you, not even Joshua can do anything about his own body's physiological reactions.

You feel the length of his cock nestled against your ass, hips rocking back and forth as he stimulates himself into full hardness. A soft moan tumbles out of your lips when he squeezes some of the hotel-provided body wash all over your chest — large hands lathering the soap across your body all while paying special attention to your tits.

"You finally snapped out of it, sweetheart?" Joshua sighs before latching his mouth onto the thrum of your pulse, biting down for only a moment to get your attention. "Ready to take my cock like a good girl?"

The way he murmurs those last few words along the column of your throat makes your legs feel like they'll disintegrate at any moment. Joshua continues to murmur sweet nothings into your ear, helping you clean up properly first before actually trying anything.

You're not sure if you should be pissed off or endeared by his stalling, but by the time he's finally rinsed out all the suds from your heated bodies, you're more or less ripe for the taking.

"Brace your palms against the wall, pretty girl. Yeah, just like that." Joshua chuckles softly as he presses a kiss to your nape, lips traveling down the length of your spine until he's eye-level with your sopping cunt.

"God, I'll never get tired of looking at this pretty pussy. Been thinking about sinking my cock into you all fucking week," he practically growls. "You really knew what you were doing with that cute maroon skirt you wore the other day, weren't you? The one that kept riding up your thighs when you reached for something from the high shelves? Little fucking minx."

You mewl helplessly when you feel Joshua's tongue prodding your soaked folds — forcing you to press your cheek against the cold tile as he massages your ass gingerly.

Joshua does his best to keep you anchored, making sure you won't accidentally slip as he laves at the slick between your thighs. He has no problem doing just that — driving you to near insanity with how his tongue sucks and slurps at your cunt like it's the first meal he's had in days.

"S-Shua," you whimper pathetically, pushing your ass out for more friction. "You're eating me so good..."

Had you not been so quickly drowned in this haze of arousal, you would've exercised more restraint. Joshua normally has a hard time getting you to be more vocal whenever he makes you feel good, but you suppose that there's just something in the air tonight that makes it so easy to just surrender yourself to him.

You can feel the vibrations of his laughter along the millions of nerve endings on your clit as he traces it with the tip of his tongue — further incapacitating you from coherent thought. When he slips in a finger into your awaiting heat, you all but gasp into the steamy air of the hotel bathroom.

"You're so cute when you start calling me that," he coos without halting his ministrations — that sinful tongue darting out to tease and lick and stimulate as he eases in another thick finger into your gummy walls. "Wanna eat you out underneath your desk someday... Would you act as cute as you're acting right now if I did that?"

The prospect of having sweet, gentlemanly Joshua Hong on his knees for you under your work desk makes you tighten conspicuously around his fingers. From the sordid chuckle that leaves his lips, you're fairly certain that he's noticed.

"You like that, huh? You like it when I put my mouth on you? Make you feel so good, you forget about everything else?" he chuckles darkly, rising back to his full height without taking his fingers out of your needy cunt. "But we both know this is hardly enough for you, right sweetheart?"

You hate how he knows you so well.

Joshua spends about one minute max towel drying both of your bodies before he quite literally sweeps you off your feet. You let out a surprised shriek as he princess-carries you onto the bed — gently laying you on the undisturbed sheets before crawling on top of you like a predator circling its next meal.

"Wanna tell me why you were so out of it earlier?" Joshua murmurs as he nips at your jaw, the words followed by a crackle of thunder in the distance. He chuckles when you jolt in surprise before peppering your face with a collection of kisses that ends at the tip of your nose. "It's not the weather, is it? I remember that I literally fucked you in the middle of a storm last month."

"Quit running your mouth and just fuck me," you mumble, lacing your fingers around his nape before grinding up against his leaking cock. "I've waited for you long enough."

"Ahhh," he drawls with resounding epiphany, as if he'd just figured out some ancient secret. "So you were sulking because I took too long to get here? Don't worry, sweet thing, it won't happen again."

When Joshua leans close to your ear, his hot breath fans against your flesh — making your toes curl with quiet anticipation.

"The next time we meet in this room, I'll have you mounted on my cock the moment you come through the door."

Joshua doesn't bother with foreplay or any sort of preamble. He simply guides his cock into the give of your entrance, sinking his length so deep, you can feel him in your stomach.

"Fuck," you whimper, fingernails seeking purchase across the rippling muscles of Joshua's back. He doesn't quite move yet — letting you get used to the stretch like he always does.

"Pretty pussy's so fucking tight around me," he groans. "Did you need me this badly? 'm sorry for making you wait so long, sweetheart. If I had known, I would've ditched karaoke and made you feel good as soon as I could."

Empty words uttered in the throes of passion — you're well aware that's all they are. Yet Joshua has no trouble making your heart flutter with the sentiment anyway.

"J-Joshua," you manage to gasp as you feel his girth throb inside you. "Please move... Need it. Need it so bad, please."

You're on the brink of tears with how desperate you are for mind-numbing release, but amidst your mounting delirium, Joshua sighs a little too endearingly before pressing a long, hard kiss on your lips.

"Anything for you, pretty girl."

He eases himself into you slowly at first — making sure you feel every ridge of his cock dragging along your tight walls. Joshua particularly feels smug when your eyes roll to the back of your head, addicted to the way his cock is splitting you open.

It's only when you start to loosen up that he picks up the pace, strong hands gripping your thighs as he pounds into you. The squelch of your arousal echoes within the walls secluding you from the rest of the world.

When Joshua hoists your hips higher before hooking the back of your knees across his shoulders, you knew it was all over for you.

Admittedly, you don't remember the first time you've had sex with him anymore. Or the second. Or the third. You've had each other so many times in so many ways that every instance kind of just blends into the next — painting a messy caricature of all the illicit meetings you've had with your nighttime lover.

But you don't care if it's messy. You don't care if it's strange. At the end of the day, you're comforted by the fact that all these experiences you shared with him are irrevocably yours.

Even if you can't really say the same for Joshua himself.

He stirs the pot of your arousal with practiced ease. Joshua stares at you like you're the most precious thing he's laid eyes on before letting one of your legs fall back on the mattress.

Your lover trades the depth of his thrusts for enough leeway to flatten his thick fingers across your throat — making you bleat with expectation as he presses down just enough to make you feel lightheaded. He hisses when he feels your velvet walls clamp tighter around his cock, further informing him that he's on the right track.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he laughs breathlessly — his gorgeous face the only thing you can see. "You'll let me do anything to you, won't you? All I gotta do is fuck you stupid and you'll take everything I give."

At this point, you're too far gone to even deny a word he says. "Mmmm... Your cock feels too good, Shua. 'M so close already. You'll finish inside me, won't you? Make both of us feel good?"

"Dumb little princess couldn't even answer my question," Joshua chuckles before making a particularly harsh thrust that jostles you further up the mattress. "Of course I'll finish inside this pretty pussy. It's all mine, isn't it?"

"Uh-huh," you mewl as Joshua's fingers tighten around your throat again, making your toes curl with unadulterated glee. "My pussy's all yours, Joshua. All fucking yours."

He chuckles again, fingers climbing up to your jaw until Joshua is able to prod his thumb against your bottom lip. You respond in earnest, suckling at the digit as he rails you into the mattress. There's no longer any room for intelligible thoughts — lost in the sea of pleasure that Joshua choose to drown you in every time you come together like this.

"Close, close, close," you practically sob, thighs winding around his hips as you bring him impossibly closer to you. "Shua, I'm gonna cum. Please, I need to cum. I need you—"

"You already have me, sweetheart," he laughs breathlessly yet full of intent that you're too fucked out to notice.

"You'll always have me."

That's what does you in. That's what always does you in — his sweet words, his tender gaze.

As much as the pleasure he gives with each drive of his cock into your battered cunt sends you to cloud nine, nothing makes you fall apart harder than the thought that maybe Joshua Hong is capable of loving you back.

Because how can he stare at you with so much adoration in his eyes if he doesn't actually love you at all? How can he keep meeting you like this in secret if there's no hidden agenda behind it?

But when all's said and done, you come back to your senses. Your rose-tinted gaze fades back into the darkness of Room 505.

Joshua is still beaming at you like you're the only person that matters to him on this entire earth. But you know damn well that he'd never smile at you the same way once you're out of the four corners of this room.

That's just the way things are.

As you pick off your clothes from the floor of the bedroom and the bathroom alike, Joshua stirs from where he momentarily passed out on the mattress — bleary eyes observing your every move as his brows furrow together.

"You're leaving?" he murmurs sleepily. "But it's raining outside. We should stay until it stops at least."

Hesitating for a moment, you stare at the bundle of rumpled clothes in your arms as Joshua practically tells you to go back to bed.

You know it's for the best if you don't lay back down beside him. The distance keeps you grounded — anchored to the truth that beyond these weekly trysts you share together, you and Joshua are nothing but civil colleagues at most.

He isn't your lover. He isn't even your friend.

But a stubborn part of you believes that maybe if he breaks you apart and puts you back together again, you'll be a different person. Someone who can keep up with his outgoing lifestyle. Someone he'll have no problem showing off to his friends and fellow coworkers.

But, really, when have things ever turned up daisies when it comes to you and Joshua Hong?

"Fine," you mumble, dropping your clothes in a heap next to the sushi necktie that looks more worn out now that you're seeing it up close.

You make a mental note to buy him a few more once the Christmas sales start coming around again.

"You coming to cuddle before we sleep or what?"

Joshua stares at you sleepily and expectantly from the bed, even patting the vacant space between him for added effect. If only those girls swooning at him in the office pantry could see him now...

Too bad what happens in Room 505 stays in Room 505.

⟢ end notes: finished this at 3:05 am with zero proofreading dedicated to it <3 if you spot any mistakes, they're not really mistakes since they're all crucial contenders in the creation process <333

#svthub #seventeen smut #seventeen fanfic #joshua smut #joshua fanfic #seventeen joshua #seventeen fic #seventeen scenarios #seventeen headcanons #joshua hong smut #full length fic 📚#lovelyhan

1K notes · View notes

punkshort · 4 months

Text

something only you can give

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You, Joel and Sarah head to NYC for a long weekend and celebrate New Years Eve together.

Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, explicit smut (18+MDNI), (somewhat - reader is on BC) unprotected piv sex, soft!joel, slight jealousy/possessiveness, a little cheesy because this is still a Hallmark-type story

WC: 8.2K

A/N: I had so many requests for more from this couple, and the original story was so successful, so I thought up a little NYE story. Also I absolutely needed to use this pic for something because it's haunting my dreams. Hope you enjoy ✨

Series Masterlist

Wednesday

"Oh my god! Look, Dad! You can see the Statue of Liberty!" Sarah squealed, yanking on Joel's shoulder to make him look out of the tiny, oval window of the airplane. Joel smiled as he leaned over to peer out.

"Looks cold out there, hope you're ready," he told her, looking down at the darkened, snow covered streets.

"It gets cold in Texas, too," Sarah scoffed.

"Not like this," Joel told her, sitting back in his seat.

His hand dipped over the armrest to find yours, your fingers lacing together, making you smile and pull out your earbuds.

"Hey," he said softly, his dark brown eyes sparkling with excitement. You grinned and wondered if this man would ever not give you butterflies. You hoped not.

"What do you wanna do tonight?" you asked him, running your thumb over his dry knuckles. He shrugged.

"Let's just check into the hotel and get some room service or somethin'," he said. "You got a big day tomorrow, you need your sleep."

He wasn't wrong. Your trip had multiple purposes. Tomorrow, you had to go back into your office to collect some computer equipment in order to work from home, back in Austin. Then on Friday, you planned to rent a U-Haul and load up all your belongings from Melanie's apartment. You had hoped to time it so that you could go there while she was at work, but the unfortunate part was she worked in the same office as you. So, you had to just hope all your meetings tomorrow would keep you busy enough that you didn't run into her at all while you were there.

And since this trip was technically your Christmas gift to Joel and Sarah, you planned on exploring the city together the rest of the time. Sarah already had a list of things she was desperate to see while you were there, and you planned on checking off as many as you could.

"I'm so excited to stay in a hotel!" Sarah said after overhearing you and Joel. "I only got to stay in one once, when I was super little. I barely even remember."

"I remember plenty," Joel said, rolling his eyes. "You wouldn't fall asleep til almost two in the morning. Drove me nuts."

Before you knew it, the pilot was announcing the plane's descent into JFK. By the time you filed off the plane and collected your luggage (and 45 minutes spent at the lost luggage counter claiming the suitcase you checked the week before when you decided to skip your flight) you were all exhausted. You yawned as you leaned up against the check in counter at the hotel, your arm around Sarah's shoulders as she rested her head against you, waiting for the receptionist to make your keys. You took one from Joel's outstretched hand as you filed into the elevator, your luggage in tow.

"What's our room numbers?" Sarah asked sleepily. You looked down at the card in your hand as you stepped off the elevator.

"305 and 306, they're right next to each other. I'll knock in the morning before I head out and say bye," you told her, heading down the long carpeted hall with a dizzying pattern. Sarah frowned.

"I don't get the extra room?"

"No, you're with me," Joel said, swiping the card and pushing the door open.

"But Dad!" Sarah whined. Joel sighed and held the door, waiting for her to come in the room. He raised his eyebrows at her when she didn't move.

"Let's get a move on, I'm beat," he urged, but she just made a face and crossed her arms.

"Why would you two sleep apart? That doesn't make any sense," Sarah countered, and you felt the tips of your ears burn as you stood in front of the other door, the key hovering over the lock, waiting to bid them good night.

"You're too young to be on your own," Joel began to explain, but she shook her head defiantly.

"I'm sixteen, Dad. Please? Pretty please? I'll be right next door, it'll be fine!"

Joel sighed again and rubbed the palm of his hand over his face.

"You're lucky I'm too tired to be arguin' with you," he muttered, stepping back out into the hall to look at you. "You okay with that?"

"Y-yeah, of course," you stammered, handing Sarah your hotel key, which she took excitedly with a triumphant smile spread wide across her face. "It is your Christmas gift, after all."

"You wanna order somethin' to eat with us at least?" Joel asked her as you walked past him into the room.

"I'm not that hungry," she said, opening the door. "Let's just go for a big breakfast tomorrow." And with that, she disappeared inside her room.

"Sorry," Joel told you as he set his bag down on the spare queen bed.

"Oh, I think I'll get over it," you teased with a wink. You pulled back the covers and collapsed on your back with a groan, closing your tired eyes.

Joel's lips brushed gently over yours, and a slow smile spread across your face. Without opening your eyes, you lifted your arms to wrap loosely around his neck, pulling him down to you. Even though you felt like you could sleep for a year, you couldn't get enough of him.

"You hungry?" you asked him when he finally pulled back.

"Not for food," he said with a smirk, nipping at your jaw, and you felt your cheeks flare with heat.

You twirled your fingers around his curls and hummed against his mouth, trying to stifle a yawn, but Joel noticed.

"You got a big day tomorrow," he reminded you again, kissing the tip of your nose, and you nodded.

"I know, but -"

"It's okay, baby. Go get ready for bed. We're here all weekend," he said, giving you a quick kiss before helping you up.

You headed to the bathroom begrudgingly. You knew he was right, but it was so hard to not take advantage of every single private moment you possibly could. You wouldn't stay the night at Joel's house if Sarah was there. He claimed she wouldn't mind, but it just didn't feel right. However, you hoped to open up more possibilities for you both when you got back to Texas and begin checking out all the apartments your sister, Cassie, very eagerly found for you.

Thursday

You adjusted your skirt as your train came to your usual stop. It felt like a lifetime ago, but it was really just a month since you last made this commute, and you came to realize you absolutely did not miss it. The rude people shoving past, the weird smells of the subway station, and the delightful random power outages that made you late for work left little to be desired. You kept telling yourself this was the last time you would have to make this trip as you trudged up the steps and onto the bustling street. You wrapped your scarf tighter around your face as the blistering wind took your breath away. By the time you made it the four blocks to your office, your eyes were watering from the cold and wind. You took a moment to dab at the corners of your eyes before heading into the lobby and to the elevators.

You made a beeline for your cubical, trying to keep your head down and avoid getting caught in any conversations that would just end with the other person being nosy. You had no doubt rumors were swirling around the office when those pictures of Will and Melanie appeared on Instagram. Combined with the fact that you were conveniently out of town for the month made for the juiciest office gossip.

Opening up your Outlook, you confirmed the first meeting you had was with Brian in IT in less than ten minutes. You had just enough time to use the bathroom and grab some coffee before he met you at your desk with all your required equipment. He spent the next hour going over in painstaking detail how to set up all of the devices while you furiously took notes. Fortunately, none of it seemed bulky or heavy, so you wouldn't have a problem getting it on and off the subway.

Next, you had a meeting with HR to review a revised contract now that you were accepting a fully remote position, even though it was the exact same job you were doing before, it required all new paperwork.

By lunchtime, you finally managed to get an hour to yourself. You snuck out of the office to grab a sandwich at your favorite deli and checked in with Joel.

You: busy morning, my head is spinning... can't wait to leave - what are you guys up to?

Joel: Sarah wanted to see Central Park. Figured I would spare you, it's freezing out here but I can't get her away from the damn ice rink.

You: try not to get run over this time ;)

Joel: I only let that happen when you're around to save me.

You giggled to yourself as you walked down the street back to your office, the cold air not bothering you so much anymore.

You: ah I should have known it was all an act. Nobody could ever bring Joel Miller to his knees

Joel: Just you, baby.

You blushed and sent him a quick heart emoji before pocketing your phone and heading back into your building.

As you got off the elevator, you were distracted thinking about Joel and Sarah, wishing that you could be with them instead of stuck in your stuffy office building all day, but you comforted yourself with the fact that you'll all be crammed into a U-Haul truck for almost two days soon enough.

You had your head down, rummaging through your purse and not paying attention when you heard a familiar voice nervously say your name as you passed. You paused, swallowing the lump in your throat and turned around. You knew the odds of seeing her were pretty high, but since you managed to avoid her all morning, you had convinced yourself you might just get through the whole day.

"Hi, Melanie," you said, your voice strained.

"You look good!" she replied, giving you a cheesy grin. You nodded and forced a small smile in return.

"I was gonna stop by and get my stuff during the day tomorrow, if that's okay," you said, and she quickly nodded.

"Yeah, yeah, of course. Hey, listen... did you have a minute? I think we should talk," she asked, chewing her lower lip nervously. You glanced around the hallway, noting the looks you were getting from your coworkers who were no doubt trying to eavesdrop. You looked down at the time on your phone, your heartbeat slowing a fraction when you saw the picture of you and Joel kissing under the mistletoe as your background.

"I only have ten minutes," you said, hoping to dissuade her, but unfortunately she eagerly accepted your offer.

"Here, why don't we go into conference room B, there's no meetings scheduled," she said, leading you to the door, away from prying eyes.

"I'm so sorry," Melanie blurted out the moment she shut the door. "I was wasted. It's not an excuse, but I swear it only happened after you broke up. And it's over now."

When you saw the pictures, you had just assumed she was the girl Will was cheating on you with when you caught lipstick smeared on his neck after a night out. She could have been lying, but you weren't sure what the point would be, other than to try to clean up her reputation.

"That was really fucked up," you told her. You couldn't help it. It still stung to be betrayed by not only the man you were ready to spend your life with, but one of your closest friends, as well.

"I know," Melanie said, tears welling in her eyes. "You don't have to forgive me, I get it. But I just needed to tell you to your face. I just feel so awful that you're leaving town over it."

"Oh, I'm not moving because of you or Will," you said, taken aback. "Is that what people think?"

"I-I don't know. Maybe? It doesn't matter. Just as long as you're happy," she said, giving you what felt like a genuine smile.

"I'm moving because I met someone," you clarified. "Back home. In Texas, over Christmas."

"Oh, that's great! Good for you!" Melanie said, giving your shoulder a playful nudge, and you frowned.

You were about to argue with her, sensing that she didn't believe you and she was trying to help you save face, but you let it go. It didn't matter, anyway.

"I should be getting back, I have a meeting with Mike soon to go over this remote work thing," you told her, referring to your boss.

"I think it's great they allowed you to do that," she said, and you swore it sounded a little condescending, but you couldn't be certain.

"They offered it to me, actually. I didn't ask. I was giving them my resignation. Guess they really like my work or something, huh?"

You gave her a mocking smile as you headed back to your cube. At the end of the day, you were happy, and ironically it turned out to be the best thing that could have ever happened to you. But you didn't want to tell her that. It wasn't your responsibility to absolve her or anyone else of the guilt they had for what they did.

Joel met you down at the lobby when you texted and let him know you were getting off the subway. When he saw you lugging bags of computer equipment under your arm, he quickly rushed over to take it from you.

"Thank you," you said in relief, clenching your sore hand. He leaned down to press a soft kiss against your lips, and all the aggravation you still carried with you from earlier vanished. You were home.

"Have a good day?" he asked as you walked over to the elevator bank.

"Uh," you said, not really interested in rehashing your conversation with Melanie. "It was alright. Missed you guys a lot, though. Did you have fun?"

"Sarah had a great time. After the park, I took her to some cupcake spot she heard about online, then she swindled me into shoppin' for clothes. I think she's up there going through all her new stuff right now," he told you with a grin, jabbing the 3 button in the elevator.

You laughed and shook your head. Joel loved spoiling his daughter, he just liked to pretend otherwise.

"What should we do tonight?" you asked him as you followed him down the hall towards your room.

"Sarah wanted to try this Chinese restaurant nearby, you like Chinese?" he asked over his shoulder, realizing at the last minute he actually had no idea.

"Sure I do," you said with a grin.

"Then after, thought we could check out some huge tree. Probably won't get another chance for a long time."

"You mean the Rockefeller Center Christmas Tree?" you asked, and he snapped his fingers.

"That's the one."

You giggled, as if there was another one that could compare to the most famous Christmas tree in the world.

After dinner, where Sarah insisted you all order something different and share, you headed to Rockefeller Plaza. As expected, it was insanely crowded, but none of you cared. The tree was massive and lit up in front of a huge ice rink, where families and couples glided around giggling and falling into each other.

Mercifully, Sarah said she got her fill of ice skating earlier in the day, so the three of you found an empty spot against the railing to watch all the skaters and admire the tree. Sarah pulled out her phone to take pictures, scurrying a few feet in both directions to try to get the best angle while Joel stood behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist and his prickly chin resting in the crook of your neck.

For the first time in a long time, Joel felt content. He felt like he had everything he could ever want: his little girl was happy and he had someone who loved him, someone who cared for him and wanted to be with him just as badly as he wanted to be with you. And the way you were with Sarah made his heart swell with so much love, he thought it might burst. It finally felt like the last puzzle piece in his life was found, a piece he didn't even realize he needed to survive until he met you.

The three of you walked slowly back to your hotel. Joel's hand linked with yours while Sarah skipped ahead, occasionally stopping and turning to look up at the huge skyscrapers in awe.

He watched as you laughed at Sarah's antics, your eyes lit up and your smile wide as she babbled on and on about how cool the city was and all the things she wanted to do tomorrow. You turned to look at him and when you noticed he had already been gazing at you with so much adoration, you blushed.

"What?" you asked when he didn't look away. "Do I have something in my teeth?" He laughed.

"Just can't believe I get to sleep next to the most beautiful girl in the world tonight," he said quietly so Sarah wouldn't overhear. The color on your cheeks deepened as you shook your head.

"There's literal models walking the streets here, you know," you teased.

"Seen 'em. They don't hold a candle to you," he said sincerely. You bit your lower lip, trying to contain your grin, and playfully shoved his shoulder.

"C'mon, charmer. Let's get back to the room," you told him, leaning into his arm and wrapping your free hand around his bicep, pulling him close.

"Tired?" he asked, watching Sarah shoot ahead a bit to look into the front windows of various shops.

"Nope," you said. His eyes shot over to yours and he smirked.

"Good."

Joel loved a lot of things about you. He loved the way you laughed, he loved how you pretended to like the action movies he suggested for movie night, and he loved how you insisted on helping him cook, just so you could be near him. But he especially loves the way you whisper his name breathlessly in his ear when he first sinks himself into you. The way you say it makes his heart flutter in his chest, like you were saying a prayer or sharing a secret that was only meant for his ears. Even throughout the day, whether he was at work or driving in the car or grocery shopping, he replayed it over and over in his head, like a mantra.

Joel, Joel, Joel.

He couldn't get enough of it. Like a catchy jingle that refused to leave his head. But nothing was like actually hearing it in his ear. It sent goosebumps all over his body every time. He rolled his hips and watched your lips part and your eyelids droop. It's only been a few weeks but you knew each others bodies so well, already. He never put much stock into the idea of soulmates, but for the first time in his life, he was starting to believe it. The instant connection you both had combined with the way your bodies fit so perfectly together left him with few other explanations.

Your fingers raked through his curls, nails gently scraping his scalp in just the right way that made a tingle shoot down his spine and a quiet moan slip past his lips. God, he fucking loved when you did that. He mentally added it to the ever growing list of reasons he loved you as his mouth descended upon your neck, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin while his lips leisurely roamed the column of your throat, stilling only when he found your pulse point thrumming steadily against his tongue.

If he could stay inside you forever, he would. His body constantly ached to be near you, to show you how much you meant to him, to prove to you he was devoted to you in every way. And the best part was, he felt all of that in return. Your hand always searched for his, whether you were in the car or walking down the street, you needed his touch just as badly as he craved yours. Even if it wasn't clear, the fact you gave up your whole life in this exciting city just to move to Texas more than proved your feelings for him.

"Joel," you whimpered again, your hands sliding from his hair to the sides of his head, dragging his face up so you could lock your lips with his. As the volume of your moans increased, he realized you were trying to muffle the sounds against his mouth, and the mere thought that he could give you so much pleasure that you couldn't even control the sound of your own voice made his knees weak.

"So beautiful," he gasped, pulling his face away so he could look at you, the pressure in his stomach building and his muscles tightening with every thrust. You bit down on your lower lip, trying desperately to stay quiet so his daughter wouldn't overhear in the next room. "Fuck, baby, you feel so good," he groaned softly, and watched as your eyes fluttered shut and your cheeks reddened at the compliment.

His big hand gripped your thigh, yanking it up so your leg hooked around his waist and he could delve deeper, his hips circling as he watched your face, waiting until he saw your eyes fly open and your jaw drop. Right there.

"Ohmygod," you whined, your brows pinching together as he felt your climax building around him.

"That's it," he mumbled hotly against your ear. He would never get tired of making you feel good. The way you fell apart for him like this made him feel like a man, like if he could do that for you, he could be capable of anything.

"I'm-" you began, but your gasp cut you off.

"I know, baby, I can feel it," he assured you, nibbling on your jaw. "Doin' so good."

Your nails dug into his bare shoulders as you hung onto him for dear life while your orgasm shot through you like lightning. You buried your face against his neck and let out a muffled scream that sounded like a garbled version of his name, and a lazy smile spread across his face.

"There we go," he said softly, his hips keeping up the same pace that brought you over the edge so you could ride out your orgasm as long as possible.

"I love you, Joel," you whispered hoarsely against his skin once you found your voice again.

"I love you, too, baby," he said with a grunt, chasing his own high now that he was certain you were satisfied. "God, love you so fuckin' much. Can't believe I went so long without you."

He frantically latched his mouth over yours as he felt himself spill inside you with a deep groan, his breaths ragged as his hips shallowly thrusted forward until he collapsed on top of you with a sigh of relief. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close with the side of his head resting against your chest as he listened to you catch your breath.

He felt you draw lazy circles over his back with your finger, and he was convinced he could fall asleep just like this if you let him.

"Joel?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you think we're moving too fast?"

His eyes flew open and he tilted his chin up to look at you.

"Do you?"

"No," you said with a shake of your head, your finger still drawing patterns on his sensitive skin. "It's just - we've barely known each other for a month. Some people might find it shocking that we already say 'I love you'."

"It's not like we're teenagers," he said, nuzzling his face against your chest and closing his eyes. "I'm old enough to know how I feel 'bout you."

You grinned and kissed the top of his head.

"Me, too," you whispered, relieved to hear him say that. An insecure part of you had wondered if you pressured him into this relationship when you skipped your flight in favor of staying in Texas with him. He never gave you a reason to think otherwise, but considering how badly your last relationship ended and how you managed to ignore all the red flags, it was nice to hear Joel confirm it.

Friday

Luckily for you all, Melanie's building had a designated spot for moving trucks to temporarily park right outside the front door of the building. It was quiet, most of the residents were at work as you rode the elevator up to the 8th floor. You dug your keys out once the doors opened, and you led Joel and Sarah down the hallway and around the corner to Melanie's apartment.

"I don't have that much stuff," you assured them both as you unlocked the door. Joel shuffled a handful of flattened cardboard boxes inside and against the wall while Sarah dropped the bag of packing tape and bubble wrap on the kitchen counter.

"This place is so small, this is where you lived?" Sarah asked in disbelief. You laughed as you led her down the hall to the spare bedroom, where you had been bunking for just a few short days before you flew home to Texas for the holidays.

"I didn't stay here long. I used to live in a much bigger place, actually," you told her, opening the door and sighing at the work you had ahead of you. In your hurry to leave Will's apartment, you didn't exactly take much care in packing your things.

"Why did you move?"

"Sarah," Joel said in a warning tone, but you just shrugged.

"It's okay. I was engaged and living with the guy. It didn't work out," you told her, deciding not to get into specifics.

"How long were you together?"

"Sarah!" Joel scolded louder now.

"What?" she asked, clearly annoyed.

"Joel, it's fine, I'm over it," you laughed, waving him off as each of you began to construct the cardboard boxes. "Uh, long time. Seven years, give or take. We met in college," you told her.

Joel didn't even know that, although he had his suspicions based on pieces of information you had told him in the past. Still, hearing 'seven years' stunned him, although he knew he had no right to feel jealous. He was with his ex-wife for even longer, but he was a bit older than you, as well. But the thought of some man getting you to himself for that long and not even treating you the way you deserved set his teeth on edge.

The two of you spent most of the morning packing while Sarah continually got sidetracked looking through your purses and makeup. You took a short break after ordering in lunch, and by early afternoon you were close to finishing up.

"Shoot, I got a missed call from Tommy," Joel murmured, frowning down at his phone. "Didn't even hear it ring."

"There's really spotty reception in this building," you explained as you taped up a full box. "If you go down to the lobby, you should get a signal."

"Alright. You be good," he told Sarah, narrowing his eyes as he left the apartment.

Joel was pacing the lobby as he listened to Tommy on the other line.

"So, they brought us the wrong size?" Joel clarified. He reached up to rub his forehead with his spare hand and realized he had brought down a tape gun by mistake. Dropping his arm back down to his side, he turned around in the lobby as Tommy went into further detail about the mixup. He vaguely watched as a younger guy in an expensive looking suit tried the doors, then finding them locked, rang the bell for one of the apartments.

"Yeah so they sent us 6 size 8s when we really need 8 size 6s, right? I'll call 'em when we get back, but for now, go down to the other site on Summers. We should have size 6s there, then we'll replace 'em once I get it all sorted out."

An older lady walking her small dog got off the elevator and gave Joel a smile, which he returned with a quick nod. She held the door open for the younger man who was waiting to get buzzed in. His eyes landed on Joel, then he noticed the tape gun in his hand.

"Excuse me, are you the mover helping the girl in 807?"

Joel frowned and held up a finger. 807 was Melanie's apartment number.

"Tommy, lemme call you back," Joel said into the phone before ending the call. "Sorry, what was that?"

"You're the mover, right?" the young man asked again, now pointing to the U-Haul parked outside.

"In a way," Joel replied slowly, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up. "Who are you?"

"Name's Will," he said, reaching out his arm to shake Joel's hand. If Will noticed Joel tense up and hesitate before forcing himself to shake his hand, he didn't let on.

"Joel. What can I do for you, Will?" Joel asked, doing his best to keep his emotions in check.

"The girl you're moving is my ex. I've been waiting to run into her and her friend told me - sorry, you don't care about any of this," Will realized with a chuckle.

"No, it's alright. Go ahead," Joel urged, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I messed up, and I came to try to get her back but I know she'll kill me if I go up there right now and surprise her," Will said, shifting his weight and fiddling nervously with his tie.

"How'd you mess up?" Joel couldn't help but ask, his body stiffening. You were his now. He wanted to set this little punk straight, but he bit his tongue.

"I cheated on her," he replied with a shrug. "I mean, it's New York! Everyone's sleeping with everyone, I didn't think she would get so pissed about it. But since she's been gone, I've been missing her, you know?"

"No, I don't know," Joel said, a frown etching his features now. He didn't appreciate the cavalier attitude he took when he spoke about hurting you. "Real men don't cheat on their women. They treat 'em with respect, treat 'em right. Sounds like she's better off, if you ask me."

Will stared at Joel for a moment, an awkward silence filling the lobby, but Joel didn't back down. He held his glare and waited for Will to make the next move.

"You sound like you're from the South," Will said.

"Yep."

"My girl's from Texas," he added, the wheels turning.

"Don't sound like she's your girl anymore," Joel couldn't help but remind him, and Will's jaw clenched.

"Right," Will finally said, eyeing Joel up and down one more time before turning to the elevator. He pressed the call button right as the doors slid open, revealing both you and Sarah each holding a box.

You didn't notice Will at first. Your eyes immediately found Joel's and you smiled, but then you took in the look on his face and your smile wavered. You shifted your gaze to Will and your eyes widened in shock when he gave you a warm smile and said your name in greeting.

"Will," you replied coldly, all the blood draining from your face as you forced yourself to step off the elevator so the doors wouldn't close.

He took a step towards you, leaning in to plant a kiss on your cheek, but you quickly stepped back. Joel had to hide his smirk as he held out his arms for the box you were holding.

"I'll take it to the truck," he assured you, and your wide eyes flicked back to Joel. You began to shake your head and he stopped you. As much as he wanted to stay and put this guy in his place, that wasn't going to happen. Not with his daughter right next to him. He trusted you implicitly, and if you needed his help, you would ask for it.

"I'll be right back," he said softly, and you slowly released your grip on the box to allow him to take it. "C'mon, Sarah," he said. Sarah gave you a confused look as she followed Joel out the front door behind you.

"Your mover's got a kid working for him?" Will tried to joke, but you just whipped your head around to glare at him.

"My what?"

"The mover you hired. Kind of a weird guy," Will said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"What do you want, Will?" you asked, anger flaring in your belly.

"I want you back," he said bluntly. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have done that to you. I got carried away, it's no excuse but all the guys I work with at the firm all have side pieces and I just lost sight of everything and what we had." He reached a hand out to try to take yours, but you crossed your arms defensively.

"C'mon, don't be like that. We have a history together. I said I was sorry."

"I don't give a shit," you spat. "I was with you since college, Will! I was there when you were broke and failing class and I fucking helped you! And the second you get an ounce of success, that's how you repay me?"

"Listen-"

"No, I'm done listening. I wasted way too many years on you, and I'm not interested in wasting another minute." You dropped your hands to your side, about to turn around to find Joel outside when his hand shot out and grabbed your shoulder.

"What are you gonna do, huh? You think you're gonna find anyone in Texas better than me? Think again, sweetheart," Will said with a scoff. You knocked his hand roughly off your shoulder.

"I already did, actually," you couldn't help but say smugly. "Joel."

"Joel? The mover?" Will asked, looking over your shoulder and out the glass lobby doors.

"He's not my mover, you asshole, he's my boyfriend," you said, rolling your eyes.

"Oh, wow, and he's got a kid? C'mon, you gotta see how that's a step down," Will replied, tossing his hands in the air in disbelief.

"Shut the hell up," you snapped, your voice rising. Joel swung the door open just as you were finishing your sentence. "She's amazing. And Joel treats me better than you ever did, and he actually knows how to make me come!"

Joel cleared his throat behind you and you spun around on your heel, heat immediately flooding your face. To your relief, Sarah was a few seconds behind and didn't walk into the lobby until you had already stopped speaking. You looked back and forth between Joel and Sarah, your eyes wide and your heart hammering in your chest. Joel tried his best to hide his smirk by looking down at his feet, but you could see his cheeks lift and the dimple appear on the side of his mouth.

"Fine," Will said curtly, brushing past you, clearly not appreciating the hit to his manhood. He locked eyes with Joel as he was about to leave.

"Good luck, man," Will said, shaking his head.

"Doesn't sound like I need it," Joel said over his shoulder with a grin. Will paused for a moment with his hand on the lobby door before pushing forward and walking back out onto the sidewalk.

"Uh, what was that about?" Sarah asked, raising an eyebrow at you and Joel. You turned away, trying to hide the color on your face and neck.

"Nothin', babygirl," Joel said, his grin still plastered across his face. He draped an arm over you and Sarah's shoulders as you waited for the elevator. "Nothin' at all."

Saturday - New Years Eve

You and Joel strolled hand in hand throughout the Museum of Modern Art, gazing at the art hanging from the ceiling overhead as you made your way to the next exhibit. Sarah led the way excitedly, her crumpled brochure tight between her fingers as she made sure you got to see every single piece of art the museum had to offer.

Yesterday, you had apologized profusely to Joel the moment you were alone and Sarah couldn't overhear. He had just looked at you in surprise, not understanding what could warrant an apology. He had never felt more proud when he heard the end of your argument with Will, but you explained you felt childish and immature. Maybe you were right, but that didn't stop him from feeling like he was on top of the world. And it also didn't stop him from joining you in the shower that morning to prove to you twice that he could, in fact, make you come.

If that made him immature, then so be it.

Your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as you watched Sarah lead you from piece to piece. She looked so happy and you were thrilled you were given the opportunity to be a part of her life and witness her unbridled joy for things you took for granted.

Something snapped in you when Will implied that Joel having a daughter would be a downgrade. You couldn't help your reaction, you saw red and jumped to their defense because they both meant the world to you, and you refused to let anybody say otherwise. Regardless of the history you had with Will, you realized it all meant nothing to him until he couldn't have you anymore. And once that clicked, that shared history no longer meant anything to you, either. The only thing that mattered was Joel, Sarah, and your family. Because those are the people who truly loved you, who loved you unconditionally, and that was all that mattered now.

After the museum, the three of you got hot dogs from a street vendor because according to Sarah, it wouldn't be a true New York experience without one. It had been a while since you had one, and you were surprised at how good it was. You grinned as you watched Sarah lick the mustard from her fingers and told her so far her to-do list was knocking it out of the park.

"Are you sure we can't go to Times Square tonight?" Sarah begged the both of you as you headed towards the Empire State Building next.

"People have been lining up there all morning," you explained. "We would waste the entire day, but I promise you'll still be able to see fireworks from anywhere in the city."

"It's way too cold and you gotta be squished up against people or else you lose your spot," Joel added. "Not my idea of a good time."

"Alright," Sarah said dejectedly, unable to hide her disappointment.

"Hey, I think I have a better idea," you told her, and she looked up at you expectantly. "Why don't we go up to the roof of the hotel tonight? You'll have a great view of the city and that way you could see all of the fireworks, in every direction. We can bring up snacks and blankets -"

"Yes!" Sarah squealed, jumping up and down. "Yes! That sounds perfect!"

Joel chuckled as he watched Sarah bounce around, talking animatedly with you as she already planned what snacks she wanted to buy, Times Square already long forgotten.

He gazed at you adoringly as you giggled with Sarah in front of him on the sidewalk. How did you always know what to do? The way you fit into their lives with such ease astounded him. He always thought he would end up alone after he and his ex divorced. He had never really considered a relationship, although he ached for someone like you for years, he focused all of his energy on Sarah and making sure she had everything she ever needed. But watching the two of you together just solidified what he and his daughter were both missing in their lives. You brought this beautiful energy and light into everything you did, and suddenly he didn't seem to mind all the years he spent so alone, because now that you were here, it all made sense. He was just waiting for you.

You and Sarah juggled all of the blankets you could find in the two rooms while Joel lugged up two bags worth of drinks and snacks behind you on the stairs. Once you made it to the roof, you realized you weren't the only ones who had the idea, but even so, there was still plenty of space for you to have some privacy together while you waited for midnight. You spread out a thick blanket to sit on while Joel laid out all the snacks and popped a bottle of champagne and Sarah took pictures of the skyline.

"This is perfect," Joel told you as he handed you a champagne flute. You thanked him and settled in next to him, the back of your head resting on his shoulder as you watched Sarah take selfies then frown, deleting them before changing the angle and trying again.

"You think you'll be too tired to drive tomorrow?" you asked him, and he scoffed.

"No way. I can get four hours of sleep and still operate a table saw. Drivin' a truck will be a piece of cake."

You giggled and took a sip of your drink.

"I hope you have your liability insurance up to date," you teased, and he grinned. "Where do you think we can stop for the night?"

"Thinkin' if we make it to Nashville, that'll be a good spot, 'bout halfway," he said, and you nodded.

Sarah helped you set up a tray of cheese and crackers as the clock inched closer to midnight. You could see her eyelids drooping, but she was fighting to stay awake. She definitely wasn't used to all of the walking that was required in New York City, and it showed.

You had to nudge her awake when you heard the other people on the roof begin to murmur louder, and when you glanced at the time, you realized it was only a couple minutes until the ball dropped. She sat up and sleepily rubbed her eyes, but perked up quickly when you informed her it was almost time. She jumped up and pushed her way to the railing so she could get the best view of the street below, but you and Joel stayed cozied up under a blanket on the ground.

You listened as the small crowd of people on the roof began to countdown to midnight, and joined in with the cheers when the clock struck midnight. Fireworks began going off in the distance in every direction, and much to your surprise, someone was setting them off a block away on the roof. The loud pop made you jump, and Joel chuckled next to you.

"C'mere," he said, pinching your chin and pulling you in for a kiss. His lips felt cold but his hands were warm as you let yourself melt into his touch.

"Happy New Year, baby," he murmured against your mouth, and you smiled.

"Happy New Year," you whispered before cupping his face and pulling him closer, your lips slotting together perfectly as the fireworks continued to go off and the rest of the crowd looked up in awe. But neither of you cared to take your eyes off the other. There was no point: nothing could compare to what was right in front of you.

Sunday - New Years Day

Sarah yawned, her chin resting in her hand as she slumped over the table at the diner you had found within a short walking distance of the hotel, one of the few places open on a holiday. You had gotten up early so you could hit the road and put as many miles under your belt as you could. The trip was short, but you crammed in as many things as you could, and you could tell even Sarah was ready to get back home.

"Dad, I'm tired," Sarah pouted as she watched Joel finish eating his pancakes.

"You can sleep in the truck," he told her, wiping his mouth before drinking the rest of his coffee. "This ain't even that early. I'm normally up -"

"By 5, yeah, we know," Sarah said, rolling her eyes dramatically, making you giggle. Joel raised an eyebrow at you.

"Oh, so now you're gangin' up on me?" he said accusingly, but his tone was light, which made you laugh even more.

"Where are we gonna put all your stuff?" Sarah asked suddenly. You frowned, confused.

"What do you mean?"

"At the house. Where's your stuff gonna go? Dad's closet is already overflowing-"

"Oh, no," you told her, shaking your head. "We're taking it to my mom and dad's house until I find an apartment."

"An apartment? Like that small one you just left? Why?" Sarah asked, snagging an extra piece of bacon from your plate.

"Well, apartments are notoriously tiny in New York City. The ones in Austin will be bigger," you explained, ignoring her underlying question. But she didn't let you get away with it that easy.

"We could make room at our house, right Dad? Can't you build something for her clothes?" Sarah asked, turning on him now.

"Uh, yeah," he replied, anxiously draping his arm across the back of the booth. "But she wants her own space, baby girl."

"But why?" Sarah asked, furrowing her brows at you. "You're over all the time anyway." You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

"Yeah, I know. But your Dad and I just met, and you really should be together longer before you move in with someone," you explained, and you felt Joel shift his weight next to you.

"You said you were with that other guy for seven years and you lived with him, right?" she questioned, and you knew immediately where she was going with it.

"Yeah," you said slowly.

"So maybe that doesn't really matter," she said with a shrug. You shifted your eyes to Joel, silently asking for help, and he straightened up in his seat.

"Alright, that's enough, detective," he said to Sarah. "Let's get a move on, I wanna hit the road."

A couple hours later as you made your way further south and Joel confirmed Sarah was fast asleep in the backseat, he cleared his throat, getting your attention.

"Y'know, 'bout earlier," he began, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. "If you wanted, you could move in. But only if you wanted," he repeated nervously, stealing a glance in your direction. "Don't want you thinkin' I don't want you around-"

"Oh!" you said, blinking in surprise. "Thank you, but I think maybe I should learn to live by myself for a while. I've either always lived with my parents, or a roommate, or Will. I think it would be good for me to get my own place. Nothing against you," you said hurriedly, "I really appreciate the offer."

"'Course," Joel said, nodding in understanding. "Just wanted you to know you're always welcome at our house."

"I know, thank you," you replied, reaching your hand across the seat to him, and he dropped his hand from the steering wheel in favor of holding yours.

"Besides, we can have sleepovers at an apartment where we can be as loud as we want," you whispered with a wink, and he smirked.

"I'm gonna have your poor neighbors up all night," he told you, and you giggled. "Get you kicked out, then you'll have to move in with me." You laughed even louder at that, and Joel joined in, eventually waking up Sarah.

"What's so funny?" she asked sleepily, and Joel shook his head.

"Nothin', go back to sleep," he said, glancing at her in the review mirror.

"Well, I'm up now," she said, stretching and looking out the window. "Where are we?"

"Somewhere in Maryland," you told her over your shoulder. She groaned and laid back down, shoving her earbuds in.

"Wake me when we get home," she mumbled, closing her eyes.

You smiled, turning to look out the window at the cars flying by on the thruway. It didn't really matter where you were because you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

You were already home.

Tag list: @lola8888673 @pedropascalsbbg @nandan11 @sushiumex @serenadingtigers @jjlevin @survivingandenduring @amyispxnk @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @merz-8 @fandomscollide @anoverwhelmingdin @cayleejx16 @msjjekyll @lizzie-cakes @hexedbywuanda @harriedandharassed @joeldjarin @daddy-dins-girl @jessthebaker @seratuyo @wh0reforbucknasty @paleidiot @misstokyo7love @runningmom94 @mandoisapunk @marantha @missladym1981 @mybworlds @hologramgrlluvr @txtattoostark @jay-mach @stevie75 @merz-8 @sarap-77 - if you are crossed out, it won't let me tag you

589 notes · View notes

letshavedeernnertogether · 6 days

Text

Sleepyhead

the plot is: you feel yourself very sleepy all the time, and alastor finds it adorable

tw: none, it's just cute

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

You felt cold. Your eyelashes trembled, you frowned and opened your eyes. Bloody red firmament was the first thing you saw, as you were lying on the ground. A bright pentagram crossed the sky, thin clouds flouted across it, and it looked like a piece of meat. There was a glaringly white spot in the left side, which you took for the sun at first, but then you thought it looked more like a planet. A planet with wings. You tried to find the sun or a moon, but in vain. You couldn't tell if it was day or night. A specific pungent smell hit your nose. The smell was extremely bad and you didn't even want to know what had caused it.

You sat up, slowly got to your feet and looked around: a desert with black sand and dead small trees. There was a city ahead. It was densely dotted with skyscrapers and simply high-rise buildings. You headed for it straight away.

You felt utter drowse, it was so strong, you walked some part of the way with your eyes closed. A minute couldn't pass without you yawning. You slowly moved your legs, staggering side to side, getting closer to the unknown city.

You thought it was a dream. A strange one, but very realistic. Last thing you remembered was that you were lying in your bed trying to fall asleep. Usually it never posed you any problems, but that time was different. You barely could lie just in one position, barely could keep your eyes closed, barely felt drowse.

And now you were extremely sleepy. All you wanted to do was lie down on the hot sand and sleep. But nevertheless you continued your way.

Getting closer, you saw a high building on the hill just in the border of the city. You descried a neon sign on the roof of the building: "Hazbin Hotel". So, there was a refuge in such a strange place that looked like hell. You had no money in the pockets of your pyjamas, of course, but you hoped, you would be let to stay for a night in the smallest room under the stairs for free.

The closer you reached the city, the louder became screams and explosions, like a war was waged in the city. In normal situation you would feel fear, but it was a dream, so why should you be afraid?

You stood in front of a street-door with strained-glass windows depicting apples, snakes and eyes. Yawning one more time, you opened the door and entered.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Honeyed soft light of old chandeliers flooded the hotel lobby. A red carpet covered the floor and the birfucated stairs. On the walls with difficult pattern, in which you recognized snakes, hung many painting. It was quiet. Only rustle of your steps on the soft carpet broke the silence. Suddenly you heard a quiet jazz melody somewhere from the left. You turned your head to the side and saw a big black cat at the bar. A cat with wings. And moreover he had a top hat and a red bow tie on his white chest. He was on the place of a barman and poured alcohol in a glass for himself.

Yeah, what a strange dream you had, but the strangest thing was that you couldn't wake up. Usually, when you understood that you were in a dream you immediately woke up. But now you couldn't.

The cat noticed you and looked at you. His stare was vacant, and you understood he was drunk. If a cat could drink, than he could speak too, right? You came up to the bar and asked,

"Excums me, is this a hotel? The Hazbin hotel?"

The cat blinked twice and answered in the affirmative. His voice was deep and low. It reminded black velvet.

"How can I get a room here?"

"Do you want a room?" He frowned. He was looking at you with a blend of suspicon and disbelief.

"Yeah... This is the hotel, isn't it?" You placed your hands at the counter, "Where is reception?"

A slowly saxophone melody hovered between you, making this conversation more surreal.

The cat poured an amber-coloured liquid in his glass, drank it, looked at you again and smirked.

"So, you wanna be redeemed?"

You were irritated at this question. What it did actually mean? You just wanted to sleep, you wanted it so bad, you could kill for having a chance to take to bed.

"I just want a room," You said, gritted your teeth.

"So you don't know?" He said without hiding his smile.

The cat started to dust the counter, and as you didn't answer anything, he continued,

"This is not just a hotel. Living here ain't the main point. The princess of hell founded it on to give all the sinners a chance to get a redemption and go to heaven. So, you're welcome here, but only if you want be better." He glanced at you with a mocking sparkle in his eyes. A smile played at a corner of his mouth. It was clear, that he just repeated the words, he heard million times before, from a host of the hotel maybe, and it seemed funny to him. But not for you. What was the point of all of this? Nevertheless, you needed a room and you wanted to get it by all costs.

"I wouldn't be mind to be better... And to be redeemed," You said seriously. If it could bring you to bed...

"Oh, really?" He raised his red eyebrows, which seemed to be feathers.

Suddenly a high female voice exclaimed from the stairs, "Vaggie, I tell you, someone has come! I saw them in the window!"

You turned to the voice and saw two young women. They noticed you too and opened their eyes in surprise. One of them, a tall, ruddy-cheecked blonde in red jacket and the same colour trousers, smiled widely, showing her white sharp fangs. The other one, with grey skin and white long hair, frowned and took out a spear from somewhere.

They two quickly went down to you, but the blonde was much faster, and as she appeared towards you, she took your hands,

"Welcome!!! I'm Charlie, the founder of this hotel! I'm so glad you've come here!" She was so happy, you wouldn't been surprised, if she'd exploded with sparkles and spangles.

"I'm (Y/n)."

"What a beautiful name! Fits you so well!"

The other girl came up to you, still holding the spear, but not going to attack, "Charlie, we don't even know why they had came here. Maybe they've lost."

"I haven't actually lost. I'm here to redeem." You said loudly. You heard Charlie, she said she was the founder of this place, so it depended on her, whether would you stay here for a night. And also you remembered what that cat told you. The princess of hell founded it on. So you decided to be polite with this young woman. You didn't want to have an enemy in the face of the princess of hell even in your dream.

After your words were said the smile on the Charlie's face grew even bigger, her eyes filled with tears, and she pressed you to her chest in a tight embrace.

"I'm so so so so so so so glaaaaaad!"

"I would be glad too," You barely moaned in her firm hug, "but I'm afraid you'll rather strangle me."

"Uh, sorry!" She let you go straight away.

Charlie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "It's not like... Well, I mean, it's not that this place is very unpopular or avoided, but it's like not everyday somebody comes here..." Her shoulders slumped and you saw sadness in her eyes. Vaggie gently put her hand on Charlie's shoulder with a soft smile, "Charlie..."

The young woman looked at her and a wide smile shone on her face again.

"Anyway," She said to you, "Welcome to hell! And to Hazbin Hotel! So you can be welcomed lately in heaven!" She almost sang the last word.

Hell? So you understood all rightly. It was hell. A dream about a hotel in hell. Well, why not? Maybe when you'd wake up you should write a book about it?

"Hell?" You asked.

"Yes! You're a new one here, I believe?"

You unsurely nodded. Somehow you started to doubt that it was only a dream. You felt cold. After all it was too real. You could swear you had never heard that jazz melody from the radio, you smelled Charlie's apple perfume, you felt her embrace, and you were sleepy like you were kissed by Mortheus himself. But people don't feel themselves sleepy in their dreams, do they?

But to be in hell you must to be dead. Were you dead?

"Am I dead?" You felt cold inside of you, but it didn't help you to overcome another yawn.

Charlie and Vaggie looked at you with sympathy.

"Yeeaaahhh, you are, I'm very sorry," Said Charlie with an apologetic smile.

You tried to remember, what had happened before you opened your eyes and saw the red sky.

You spent your whole day in your bed, daydreaming, reading books and sleeping. Just like always. You spent your whole life avoiding reality. Fantasies, fictions, daydreams were the only refuge from the horrors of the world you lived in.

"I thought I was too young to die during the sleep..." You pronounced.

Charlie covered her mouth with her palm, "Oh! This must be very... Sudden for you."

"Look at this from the other side. You didn't suffer," Said Vaggie.

You yawned very widely. Yes, you didn't suffer when you died, but now you were probably cursed to never have enough of sleep.

"May I get a room?" You were so tired. What's the matter thinking about your death. It was more important to find a bed. You could think about your death and curse later.

Charlie glanced at you.

"Oh, damn, yes, sure! It's very late already, and of course you need a room!"

"Thank you," You smiled. Getting a bed had never been so difficult.

Charlie took a key from the cell near the empty one, and you three, Charlie, Vaggie and you, headed for the stairs. You glanced back to look at the barcat again. He raised his glass, looking at you, like he was drinking to you. You turned away and asked Charlie about him.

Charlie stopped and exclaimed, "Oh, shit, I absolutely forgot about it! We need to make a tour around the hotel!"

"Charlie," Said Vaggie, "We can do it tomorrow. I'm afraid, our new guest is about to fall asleep in any moment."

"You right." You took the key out from Charlie's hand and turned away.

"What are you doing?" Exclaimed Charlie.

Still going forward you turned your head to Charlie and said, "I'm very grateful for both of you, really," You stopped, "but now I just want to be alone" To sleep, you thought, "to accept the fact I'm dead now," You said. "It's not hard to find a right room, when I know the floor and the number, so don't worry, I can handle it. Good night, girls!" You waved your hand and disappeared in shadowed corridor.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

You slowly walked forward along the corridor. It seemed endless, though you turned time after time to the left or right. Art Deco lamps glowed dimly, filling the place with an amber light. Sometimes golden candlesticks hung on the walls instead of lamps. There were candles on them; they burned, but wax didn't drip from them. The walls were crimson, and so was the carpet. Although the corridor and the entire hotel were buried in warm colours, goosebumps ran down your skin. Especially in this quiet and dark corridor. It seemed that this place was uninhabited. But judging by the number of empty cells for keys at the reception, at least six or seven people lived here. “Maybe they just opened recently?” You thought yawning again.

You turned to the left again and went up one floor. Here, on one of the upper floors, your room was supposed to be.

Suddenly you heard a melody. You stopped and listened. A piano sounded off quietly and melancholy somewhere in the distance. Music led you forward. You walked past the room with your number. The melody became louder, and now you heard singing. A male voice sang some old song in French. You stopped for a second and then went further.

The lights flickered, and you heard something, what sounded like a crackling radio. You turned to the right and realized, that the melody was coming from the far door on the right. You stopped in front of this door. The sound wasn't clear, like someone was listening to an old radio or gramophone. You leaned your back against the door and began to listen. It was a beautiful and very old song. The melody lulled you. The man’s voice was so beautiful and bewitching, that you forgot all your worries, and drowsiness enveloped you again. But now the feeling of sleep did not press on you, did not suffocate you, sleep gently hugged you by the shoulders and let you rest your tired head on its chest. You felt cosiness and comfort. What a beautiful song... What a beautiful voice... The refrain began, and the voice became louder. You closed your eyes and slowly sank onto the carpet.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Alastor took his hands away from the piano and turned his head to the door. Someone had been standing behind it for several minutes already. How dare they? He immediately felt their presence but did nothing, hoping they'd leave. But no.

Alastor stood up, took a sip of water to moisten the throat after the long singing, and headed for the door. The was silence. He expected he would hear the steps running away, because now it was obviously, that he knew they were there and they'd disturbed him. So it was better for them to make off. But there was silence.

Alastor opened the door and saw nothing. Something fell at his feet. He looked down and saw the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.

A young lady lay at his feet. Her skin was velvet black as night sky and starred. Milliards of tiny stars shone on her arms, hands, and neck. Her hair was glaringly white and fluffy as a cloud. The hair shone with soft moon-like light in the candlelit room. She was wearing a silver pajamas with a pattern of little moons. The night herself, he was captivated with her.

Alastor knelt down in front of you and gently put hair from your face. It shimmered with tiny stars just like all of your body. Your face was calm, you slept well. Your chest slowly upped and downed with every breath.

Alastor studied you just with his eyes. How did you end up here? You didn't look like a demon — too beautiful, but you weren't an angel either — too nocturnal.

Alastor noticed that you had something in your hand. He carefully unclenched your fingers and saw a key. So, a new guest? And living so close to him?

Alastor smirked to his thoughts.

"There's no way you'll sleep on the floor, my dear," He wispered.

He took you in his arms and left the room.

You pressed your head to his shoulder and wispered something. You were light as a feather. Alastor headed for the room with the number that was on the key in your hand. You yawned in sleep, and wispered something again, that made Alastor softly chuckle.

He made the door of your room opened and he entered. Alastor put you to bed and wanted to straightened up, but your hands embraced his neck. He leaned on his hands and hung over you so as not to fall.

On your eyelids he saw a big amount of stars and violet fog, like a little universe slowly whirled on your eyes.

Your hands slipped from his neck, but Alastor stayed still. Then he sat next to you. His hand ran through your hair.

"Suppose I am the guard of your dreams now?" Said Alastor to himself.

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

You woke up, yawning widely and stretching yourself. You thought, that you had never had such a good sleep. But then you opened your eyes and found yourself in an unfamiliar place. It was a bedroom, quite big and beautiful bedroom in violet, blue and silver colours. You looked at your hands: black and starred, just like yesterday. So you still was in hell, still dead. Or was it better to say, already?

You yawned again and got out of your bed. In the bathroom you saw new you. "Night" was your first thought. Maybe spending your whole life in sleep was a sin, because you once heard, that despondency, that led you to daydreams, was a deadly sin... And moreover you died in the middle of the night during your sleep. Could it be the reason why you looked like a daughter of Nyx?

In a wardrobe you found a big amount of clothes that suited you just perfect. Not only in your size, but it also suited to your appearance. There were a grey pinstriped suit, long skirts, warm sweaters, shirts. All was in dark blue, silver or black colours. You found a lot of different ties and bow ties, kerchieves, gloves. Somebody did a good job with your wardrobe. You changed clothes and only now noticed the clock above the bed. It was a midday already. You hastened to leave your room.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Walking down the main stairs you heard Charlie's voice.

"Here you are, (Y/n)! Good morning! or good afternoon already... Nevermind!" She waved her hand, "You can go to the dinning room and have breakfast. I asked Alastor to cook another helping. He was surprised that we have a new guest hahaha! And after you finishing your meal, go back here, we're going to do some exercises," Charlie looked to the side, where several demons were sitting, "and we will do it together!"

Last words she said with a forced smile, almost growling. Apparently, someone didn’t want to do these exercises together. You saw yesterday's cat among them.

After finishing breakfast (oh, how delicious it was) you went to the living room, where all the residents had already gathered.

You were introduced to the demons in front of you. Niffty was a maid, she gave you a cute smile, but you noticed a sharp big knife in her hand. Nobody seemed to care about it, so didn't you.

Angel Dust, the spider, winked at you with a smile. He was the first resident of this hotel.

Husk, the cat demon, he was a barman. He nodded you, when Charlie said his name to you.

And Sir Pentious, another resident. He smiled to you, and his smile seemed the most warm and not assumed.

"And where is Alastor?" Said Charlie looking around, "Oh, asked him to come and join us."

You saw a big shadow behind her. It took a shape of a tall man with a cane, and he appeared.

"Alastor," You guessed. This name suited him, it had something devilish in its sound, and it sorted well with his appearance. Especially with his ear-to-ear smile with big sharp yellow teeth. A thought of being bitten by him fleeted your mind, but you shook your head.

"Alalstor, this is our new guest, (Y/n)!" Said Charlie with a big smile, pointing with her two hands at you.

Alalstor came up to you and gave you a hand, "It's a pleasure to be meeting you, dear!"

You shook hands.

His voice seemed familiar to you, but you couldn't understand why. He spoke with transatlantic accent and with radio sound. It was strange, but you liked how it sounded.

"Well, let's begin our exercises. All" Said Charlie, growling on the last word again. Angel Dust rolled up his eyes.

You sat on a couch near Alastor. In front of you on other couch sat Angel and Husk. Vaggie stood near Charlie, who was explaining the rules of to-redeem-game. Sir Pentious sat on the floor near Husk, and Niffty, the maid, sat on the arm of the couch near Alastor.

At first you tried to listen to Charlie, to all her explanations why it was so important to be honest, and how the following exercise would teach you to trust each other and to be frank. But somehow you couldn't keep your eyes opened anymore and you hadn't noticed how you fallen asleep.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Angel poked Husk with his elbow and said, "Are my eyes deceiving me?"

Husk had been watching in the same direction for four minutes already and still couldn't believe in what he saw.

"What d'ya think? How long does she have left?"

"No more than thirty seconds, when she wakes," Husk replied phlegmatically.

"What? What are you looking at?" Asked Charlie throwing her hands. These two hadn't listened to her for several minutes and just stared at one point.

At the same time Angel and Husk pointed out the direction, where you were sitting. Charlie turned back and saw Alastor and you, putting your head on his shoulder. You were sleeping.

Everybody was staring in confusion at you and Alastor. Nobody had noticed, when you fell asleep and leaned against Alastor. He didn't understand at first what was that. Just something restet against his shoulder. And when he glanced down right, he saw your crown.

And he didn't dare move.

Charlie opened her mouth to say something, but Alastor interrupted her, "Shh... Don't you see, our new guest is resting?"

Nobody could understand what was hidden behind his sly smile and this half closed eyes.

You lifted your head a little to make yourself more comfortable, and then you tried to bury your face in his arm but slipped off.

You opened your eyes and saw wide smiling face with red glowing eyes leaning over you. Alastor looked down at you. The light of a chandelier behind his head looked like a halo. It was a strange combination with his antlers and deer ears. His red eyes shone and his yellow teeth seemed did the same.

Suddenly you understood why he was looking down on you, and why you saw ceiling behind him. You were lying on his knees.

You quickly sat up, almost hit his head, and began to apologize.

"Hahaha" Alastor laughed, "don't worry, my dear, I know a great method to deal with sleepiness." He stood up and said without looking back at you, "Follow me."

Only now you noticed that all the residents were staring at you, someone with their eyes wide opened, someone with a smirk. You apologized and followed Alastor.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

While Alastor was making coffee for you, you were watching him, sitting at a table, resting your head on your arm. This man was extremely tall, his movements were elegant but a little bit too sharp. The kitchen filled with coffee aroma.

You were following his movements, when he said, "It's oddly, dear, that fourteen hours of sleep were not enough for you."

"How do you know, how long I slept?"

He chuckled, "I know not only when you fell asleep, my dear, but also when you ended up in bed."

He turned to you with a mug of hot coffee in his hand. He came up to you and put the mug on the table. There was an inscription: "Sleepaholic."

Yeah, how funny.

You looked up at Alastor. He was smiling as always. His voice, these words he said, the fact you didn't remember how you got to your bed...

"Did I..? Did I yesterday..?" You began hesitatingly. You didn't want to say it aloud, hoping that Alastor would finish your sentence. But he was silent. He glanced at you, obviously enjoying with your confusion.

"Did I fall asleep at your door yesterday?" You said very quickly.

"You did," He answered with a satisfied smile and leaned closer to you, "Drink it, dear, I don't need another body of a somnabulist at my threshold."

You quickly drank the strongest coffee you'd ever had, and you two returned to the living-room

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

As you were sitting on the couch near Alastor, and Charlie was leading the exercises, you felt boredom suddenly, and your eyes began to close. You opened them wider and tried to focus on what Charlie was saying, but you could no longer understand anything. You covered your eyes and remembered the yesterday's evening. That song played in your head again. It was so beautiful, so charming... And it was sang by the man, who was sitting next to you right now.

You opened your eyes and looked at Alastor with a tired gaze. Angel answered something to Charlie, but you didn’t listen. You idly and yet with curiosity looked over Alastor from head to toe. Despite his sinister and dark spirit, that you felt in him, you couldn't deny that you were attracted to him. His charm was beguiling, it's true.

You covered your eyes again and turned away. You didn't notice how Alastor quietly moved closer to you.

"I think, coffee doesn't work on me," You mumbled.

"Hmm?" Alastor leaned closer to hear what you said, but you didn't repeat your words.

Your eyes closed again and you saw him, making coffee for you. You felt that bitter smell again. Then you saw his face, the moment when you woke up on his knees. The vision disappeared and you saw Alastor carrying you into your room in his arms. The piano sounded in your head again and you felt rocking, as if you were a baby in your mother's arms, being sung to in a lullaby. You felt something in right side of you and leaned against it. A soft fabric touched your face, you felt a bitter-salty scent mixed with fur and forest smell. You felt warmth.

In your dream you lay on bed and were kept in warmth in someone's arms. You breathed in the same smell. Somebody patted your head and you felt someone's breath on your crown. An old song was playing on a radio; it drowned in static.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Charlie stopped talking and looked in your direction. So did everybody.

You were sleeping on Alastor's shoulder again, cuddling very close up to him and embracing his forearm. He was looking at you with the softest gaze everyone had ever seen on him. He patted your head and said not taking his eyes off you, "Our guest is indeed a sleepyhead."

He looked up at everyone, "Don't you dare to disturb her, for I will make everyone of you fall into eternal sleep," His eyes turned into radio dials, his voice became lower and more static, "unable to wake up from the nightmare I cause."

You cuddled closer to Alastor and smiled in sleep. He backed to his normal form again. A quiet old melody played from his staff.

Charlie broke the silence, "Uhh, okay..." She said with a forced smile.

Alastor glanced at her, and then embraced you, and you both sank into the shadow.

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

@noraunor

#hazbin hotel #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x y/n

378 notes · View notes

mollyvega · 5 months

Text

Obsessed with that Overlook Hotel carpet pattern. This little guy is Danny 🖤🧡❤️

#the shining carpet #the shining #christmas gift

610 notes · View notes

magiccath · 4 months

Text

The Doctor's Coat

Tenth Doctor x GN!reader

Summary: In which you're not that cold, you just like wearing the Doctor's coat (ft. a bit of Martha) (Based on a request from @internet-stranger-says-hi)

As always, it was supposed to be a relaxing trip. A normal weekend getaway in a fancy hotel. The Doctor felt a bit bad about all the running you had been doing, so he wanted to treat you and Martha.

But, trouble followed the Doctor, that much you knew. So, frankly, you weren’t that surprised when you ended up running around the massive building fighting off homicidal aliens. At this point, it was just another day for you. As annoying as it could be at times, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Doctor gripped your hand tightly in his as you ran, his fingers firmly intertwined with yours. He was very prone to grabbing your hand at the slightest suggestion of danger, but you seemed oblivious to this. Surely he must do that with everyone, right?

“I’ll hold them off!” Martha called from behind you, going down a separate hall from you and the Doctor. You knew she could more than handle herself, but you still worried. You didn’t like it much when the three of you separated. The Doctor, on the other hand, was more worried about getting you to safety. You were always his first priority.

He turned a corner sharply, almost ramming into the wall. His dirty old Converse thudded against the garishly patterned carpet as he rushed for the hotel’s kitchen. You struggled to keep up with him, desperately trying not to trip over yourself.

The Doctor led you through the winding halls at a surprising speed, the walls rushing by in a blur. You weren’t sure where you were, or where you were going. The only thing you did know was the Doctor would get you to safety. He always did.

He dashed through the closest door, casting worried glances over his shoulder. In his rush, he didn’t pay much attention to where you were going. He guided the two of you into a room without really looking inside and shut the door behind him. You were too busy catching your breath to pay much attention either.

“We should be safe in here,” he said reassuringly, peering out of the small window on the door. He still seemed entirely oblivious to your surroundings.

Your breathing started to steady and you looked around the room. A frost covered the walls and the metal racks, small crystalline structures stuck to anything they could latch onto.

“You put us in a freezer,” you pointed out, starting to feel the chill on your skin. It wasn’t unbearable, just noticeable.

The Doctor looked around, just now realizing where the two of you had ended up.

“Well…” he winced, peeking back out again. The kitchen appeared to be empty.

“We should probably be safe to make a run for it,” he suggested, pacing back and forth. “We could reconvene with Martha and get out of here?”

“Let’s,” you shivered, the cold starting to penetrate your sweater. The sooner you could get out of here the better.

The Doctor moved to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge. He yanked it repeatedly and even tried kicking it. He pulled the Sonic Screwdriver out, buzzing around the door. Slowly, he turned back to look at you with a nervous smile.

You’d seen that look many times before. You’d seen it when he left you stranded on Mars on accident, when he crashed the TARDIS into the side of your Grandparent’s house, and when he neglected to tell you he replaced the ship’s toilet with a DIY chemistry lab.

“You locked us in here,” you gasped, throwing your hands up in frustration.

“I’m sorry,” he winced. You could see on his face how much it upset him. As frustrating as the situation was, you couldn’t bring yourself to get mad at him. You never did, no matter how bad he messed things up.

“It’s ok,” you whispered, shuffling your feet. You could handle a bit of cold, it’s not like the Doctor did it on purpose anyway.

“Here,” the Doctor said, slipping his coat off, “take this, it should help keep you warm.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t get cold,” the Doctor shrugged, pushing the coat into your arms. You stared at it for a moment, surprised to even be holding it. The Doctor’s coat was one of his most prized possessions, even if something just like it could be found in just about every charity shop across London.

Slowly, you slid your arms through the coat, shrugging it on. The fabric was a well-loved cotton, softened from years of wear and wash. Strangely, it was very warm.

“Better?” The Doctor asked, worried. You wrapped the coat tightly around yourself and smiled, nodding your agreement.

This was much better, and not because you were a little cold. The coat smelled like the Doctor - exactly like the Doctor. It felt like being hugged by him, and you relished the feeling. You burrowed further into the jacket, closing your eyes blissfully. You could stay like this forever.

“Hey,” The Doctor put his hands on your shoulders, “don’t fall asleep on me,” he urged, figuring that you were much colder than you were.

“Martha should be around soon and she’ll get us out, I promise,” he reassured, rubbing his hands up and down on your arms to create friction. You peered out from under his coat to look him in the eye. His face was riddled with anxiety, his big brown puppy dog eyes staring at you with worry.

You blushed a deep red, finding his concern adorable. You really were fine, especially now that you had a coat to keep you toasty. Even if you were cold, you wouldn’t really mind it considering the circumstances. You were wrapped up in the Doctor’s coat as he rubbed your arms lovingly - it was like a dream.

The Doctor misread your blush and assumed that the cold was flushing your face. He moved his hands up to your face, cradling it. He knew his hands weren’t exactly warm, but maybe the contact could keep the cold out. His thumbs rubbed soft, concentric circles into your skin. He traced the words of a language only he knew into your skin, trying anything to comfort you.

“I’ll get you out, it will be ok,” he reassured again. He moved his hands to wrap the coat tighter around your body, pulling the collar up to shield the lower part of your face. “Hang in there for me,” he urged, eyes still pained with anxiety.

You let out a soft shiver, the constant contact making you incredibly flustered. Again, the Doctor misread your responses to his affections. His mind was running a thousand miles an hour, trying to figure out a way to warm you up. If he lost you to frostbite due to his own obliviousness he would never forgive himself.

“Shh,” he hushed, even though you hadn’t said anything. He rubbed his hands up and down your arms again, desperately trying to warm you up.

“I’m so sorry that I got you into this situation,” he sighed, still rubbing you gently.

You shook your head quickly, “s’alright.” You would never admit it to him, but you were really enjoying this. Maybe being trapped in a freezer wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“No,” The Doctor shook his head, “it’s really no-”

Suddenly, the door to the freezer opened and Martha popped her head in. “What on Earth are you two doing in here?” She asked, her eyebrows knit together in confusion. The Doctor was known to do weird things, but this had to be high up on the list of strange hiding places.

“Martha!” The Doctor cried, overjoyed to see her. “Hurry, we need to get them out of here,” he urged, already guiding you out of the freezer. He practically pushed you out, his hands never leaving your body.

“Please check on them, they’re freezing,” he urged, guiding you to a seat. You were perfectly capable of directing yourself, but the Doctor seemed adamant on it. He was babbling incoherently, waving his hands about in distress.

“How long were you in there?” Martha asked, she had split from you less than an hour ago. Surely you couldn’t have caught frostbite in that little time. She leaned down in front of you, her fingers resting against your neck to check your pulse.

“10, maybe 15 minutes?” The Doctor started wringing his hands anxiously.

After taking your pulse she placed both hands on your face, gauging the temperature of your skin. You were chilly, but nowhere near cold enough to warrant the Doctor’s distress.

“They’re fine,” Martha shrugged.

“Are you sure? Check again,” the Doctor begged, his eyes still seeping with anxiety.

Martha sighed exasperatedly, “I’m sure.”

Behind her, you turned a deep scarlet. It was embarrassing to watch the whole interaction, but you were too flustered to admit that you really just liked wearing the Doctor’s coat. It was easier to let them argue than admit you had a crush.

“Look!” The Doctor cried, pointing at you, “They’re all flushed! Something has to be wrong.” He fiddled anxiously, bouncing slightly on his feet. Looking at him you’d think you had grown a second head or something terrifying.

Martha looked over at you, her eyebrows furrowed. You avoided her gaze, picking at your hands absentmindedly in your lap. She quickly picked up on what was happening and rolled her eyes.

“Seriously?” She whispered to you sharply. You pursed your lips, shrugging slightly in response.

“What’s going on? Is everything ok?” The Doctor asked, growing more worried by the minute.

“Please tell him, this is getting ridiculous,” Martha groaned, her eyes pleading with you. There was only so much of this she could put up with.

“Tell me what?” The Doctor was hovering now, fiddling anxiously, “is everything alright, what’s wrong?” he asked you this time, moving closer to you.

“I’m gonna give you a minute,” Martha said, her eyes darting between the two of you. You tried to open your mouth to protest but she was already slipping out the door, leaving you alone with the Doctor.

He crouched before you, his hands resting on your knees, “what’s wrong?” He asked, looking up at you. You could tell he was holding his anxiety back, trying not to let his own worries affect you.

“I’m fine,” you blushed, looking down at the floor. You really didn’t want to admit your feelings for the Doctor, especially like this. You supposed you didn’t have much else of a choice, Martha had made sure of that.

“I-I just,” you whispered, not really wanting the Doctor to hear you, “liked wearing your coat.”

“You what?” the Doctor gasped, surprised. He wasn’t entirely sure he had heard you right.

“It smells like you,” you mumbled the justification more to yourself than him.

“You’re not sick?” He asked, clearly more worried about your health than your confession.

“I’m perfectly fine,” you let out a small chuckle, “nothing to worry about here.”

“You’re not cold?”

You shook your head, you were far from cold now. In fact, the anxiety was making you sweat.

“You just liked wearing my coat?” He clarified eyebrows furrowed as his brain struggled to keep up. Could this mean you liked him? He tried not to get his hopes too high.

Embarrassed, you nodded your head meekly. God, this was awful. You wanted nothing more than the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

“Is that so?” He laughed, a cocky smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Oh shush,” you scolded, hitting his arm lightly. Of course, he found this amusing.

He smiled softly at you, his eyes softening as he realized you were going to be ok. Better than ok. He brought his hand up to your face, cradling your cheek in his soft hand.

“Are you trying to say you have a crush on me?” He smiled inquisitively.

Your eyes widened, your face turning the deepest red it had been since getting into the freezer. Perhaps he wasn’t as oblivious as you thought.

“Maybe,” you whispered, it’s not like you could really hide it anymore. The Doctor’s face immediately lit up, a large grin taking over his entire face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you frowned, confused by his sudden excitement. He should be upset, kicking you out of the TARDIS, or making excuses for reasons he couldn’t love you back. Instead, he was still sitting there looking at you with that stupid grin. It was impossible to fight back the small smile tugging at your lips when he was looking at you like that.

“What if I told you I had a crush on you too?” He whispered mischievously, his eyes twinkling with excitement.

You stiffened, shocked by his admission. “If you’re having a joke I’m gonna throw you into an exploding star.”

The Doctor chuckled, the sound dancing around the room. “No, I’m not.”

“You really fancy me?”

“How could I not?” He hummed, stroking your cheek gently. You were stunning. You were always stunning to him, no matter the conditions.

The Doctor leaned closer to you, hoving slightly over your lips. His warm breath fanned your face, sending shivers down your spine. He stayed there for a moment, giving you plenty of time to pull back. When you didn’t, he brought his lips gently into yours.

He kissed you like you were his entire world, his hand still holding your face. He was soft and gentle, but incredibly loving. You melted against him, your arms wrapping around his shoulders to pull him closer to you.

Martha silently poked her head in the door to check on you, just in case. She sighed when she saw the two of you in a tight embrace, closing the door to go handle the alien invasion on her own.

#tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor/reader #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor/reader #the doctor/reader #the doctor x reader #tenth doctor #10th doctor #the doctor #martha jones #doctor who #david tennant #fanfic #fanfiction #doctor who fanfiction #The Doctor's coat #request #magiccath

593 notes · View notes

avatar-anna · 6 months

Text

Margaritaville

based on this tiktok that i saw today!

Young Dad! Harry x Young Mom! Reader Universe

"Why the hell is my daughter dressed as a margarita?"

Y/n stared down at the group of boys sitting on the floor of her hotel room, watching with glee as Simone teetered around as a tiny cocktail.

All five boys looked up at her, a mix of emotions on their faces ranging from deer in headlights to the picture of innocence. Harry stood up from the floor and walked over to Y/n, his lips immediately finding her cheek for a quick kiss. He could tell she was mostly surprised, not really mad—at least he hoped. Dressing Simone up like a margarita didn't seem like a terrible idea when Louis approached him with the idea. It seemed harmless. Now he wasn't so sure.

"Just a bit of fun," Harry promised. "And look she loves it."

"She loves the attention," Y/n corrected. "She's two! She can't—Is that salt on the rim?"

"Mommy look!"

Y/n's attention swiveled to the toddler in like green. Simone's hair was pulled back into two tiny buns on the top of her head, each one adorned with a little green bow. She was sporting a huge smile, clearly happy to have her father and all her uncles fawn over her. Because of their busy schedules, she didn't get to spend much time with the members of One Direction, but when she did, the boys treated her like a little queen.

"Wow, melon!" Y/n cooed, not wanting to spoil her daughter's fun.

"I'm a marita!" Simone said, not quite getting the name right.

Y/n's grin was wide, but Harry could see right through it. He knew he was in for it later. For now he was safe, but when he was alone with Y/n? Perhaps a Simone-sized buffer was necessary the rest of the night. He was not above using his daughter's cuteness to get out of a lecture.

"Who made you this awesome costume?" Y/n asked, her voice light.

"Uncle Louis!"

"It was more of a joint effort, really," Louis said from his spot on the floor. When Y/n shot him a look, he was quick to go back to studying the pattern in the carpet.

"You look amazing, my love, but maybe we should change into your other costume for trick-or-treating?"

"I like this one!" Simone declared.

Y/n fought the urge to sigh deeply through her nose. She could only imagine the stares she was going to get walking around with a tequila toddler. But if her daughter was happy, she saw no reason to spoil the fun. The last thing she needed was a tantrum over a wardrobe change.

"Okay, Simone. Margarita it is," Y/n said. Then she turned to Harry's bandmates. "Isn't there a party you should be getting ready for?"

The boys were quick to scramble to their feet. Each of them said their goodbyes to Simone, kissing her cheeks and the top of her head. They said goodbye to Y/n too, murmuring their apologies as they filed out of her small hotel room. Y/n tried to suppress her grin, but it was difficult. She kind of liked that the boys were slightly afraid of her.

"I'm sorry about this, really. The boys got excited and she wanted to wear it and—"

"It's fine, H, promise," Y/n said sincerely. She knew the boys meant well. "It's just...I already get the stares, you know?"

"I'll get her to change," Harry insisted.

"Don't," Y/n said, shaking off her negative thoughts. She sometimes got caught up in what people thought when she and Simone were out together. Maybe walking around with her toddler dressed as a margarita would cause more stares, but her daughter was happy, and it wasn't like she even knew what it was anyway. It would be a funny story to tell in the future. To Harry, she said, "Let them stare. If she's happy, I'm happy."

Y/n grinned, the initial surprise and annoyance at the margarita costume wearing off. It was rather cute. And, "It's really well constructed."

"Louis was planning this for a while, I think," Harry said while both of them admired the craftsmanship of Simone's costume.

"You have a costume for tonight?" Harry asked when they were mostly alone. Simone began playing with her costume, running her hands over the bowl that surrounded her with great interest.

Y/n shrugged. "Not really. I bought cat ears and was just going to call it a day. As for you..."

Walking over to the unused bed in her hotel room, she pulled back the comforter and worked the loose sheet off. Harry gave her a knowing look before she tossed the sheet unceremoniously over his head. The sheet stopped at his shins, revealing dark jeans and a pair of scuffed boots, though the shifting beneath told Y/n he'd probably crossed his arms.

"Now no one will know it's you under there."

"I can't see."

"We'll cut holes before we go," Y/n said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Watch her while I draw on some whiskers, will you?"

Beneath the sheet, Harry rolled his eyes. He pulled it off and sat back down, whipping his phone out to take as many pictures as Simone would let him. She smiled and posed for some, but her attention didn't last long. Harry and Y/n both loved to take pictures of their daughter, but she was usually an unwilling participant.

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, love bug?"

"Why did Uncle Louis say maritas will give me a baby sister?"

Harry's head bent as he tried to hide his laughter as Y/n shouted from the bathroom, "I'm gonna kill him!"

#harry styles #young dad! harry #young mom! reader #young dadrry #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

557 notes · View notes

jasonsmirrorball · 7 months

Text

OCTOBER 7: YOU FLOWER, YOU FEAST JASON TODD (5.1K)

kinktober prompts: virginity + praise | kinktober masterlist

synopsis. you meet a beautiful stranger and every bit of sense you've accumulated over the years flies out the window. what's the worst that could happen?

cw: f!reader, smut, gentle mdom, praise, virginity loss, virgin!reader, dry humping, cunnilingus, fingering f!receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex minors, blank and ageless blogs dni

technically a part 2 to for you i'd fall from grace (just to touch your face) but can be read as a standalone

The doors open with a quiet ding.

Now it is you on the other side watching him step out, and a beat passes. The world seems to hold its breath.

You take his hand.

It feels like your undoing and rebirth all in one.

Jason’s hotel room is…luxurious. That is the first thing you notice when he leads you in, opening the door with his free hand. He doesn’t let go of you for a moment, fishing the keycard out of his pocket smoothly as his mouth skims over yours. He presses you into the door for a moment, and then you hear two small beeps before you’re being walked backwards.

When he pulls away, he’s backlit by gold and your eyes trail over his shoulder to take in the spacious room you’ve been led into.

Rich, patterned carpet, detailed plaster carvings along the trim and a chandelier – your eyes widen when you spot the bed. Jason huffs out a laugh, breath tickling your ear as you take in the wrinkled sheets, untouched from when you’d interrupted his night to coax him out with you, a cloud of what you’re sure is a thousand thread count bedsheets. It’s fit to house a king.

There’s a mouth against your shoulder, and you look back up to your companion. Jason glitters before you, sparks from the chandelier glass winking at the corners of your vision, robing him in reds, blues and purples. Your heart flutters as he grows closer.

“Hi, pretty thing,” he whispers, pressing his mouth to yours. “You okay?”

His hands are warm against your sides, and you nod into the kiss, a hum caught in his mouth. But your lips tremble against his, and you’ve begun to shake a little in his arms. You mourn the loss when he breaks the kiss, teal eyes narrowing on you.

A hand comes up to cradle your face, a dry warmth that bleeds into you, and your eyes flutter as it tilts your head.

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

But how do you tell him that you are? You’re more sure of this than anything in your life. Every cell in your body, every nerve and vein and beat of your heart all thrum with the same thought, the same desire – this, him. You want him so badly, there’s an ache between your legs and when you shift your weight you can feel the dampness of your underwear, sticky with need.

How do you tell him?

That even in your desire, even in your certainty that you won’t be leaving this room unchanged, there is fear.

You think of girlhood, of closed bedroom windows and lonely nights, of eyeing valentines enviously. You think of bare knees and secret touches beneath bed covers, substituting your fingers for another’s, faceless hands skimming your innermost parts–

You blink at Jason. Jason, who is solid, and real. Who has already unknowingly stolen a first, on his way to take another. Teal smudges in your vision, and you press closer, seeking comfort from the bigger man.

“No one has ever..” you try to say, but your voice wavers, and heat crawls up your neck to settle in your face. A thumb skims across the nape of your neck, and you shiver.

“Will you look at me?”

You linger in the safety of his embrace for a moment longer, before you do as he says, tipping your head to gaze at him. He smiles, pleased, and the sight of it sends a rush of blood to your head.

“That’s my girl,” he murmurs, rewarding you with a squeeze to your side. “You were saying something. Tell me.”

You blink. Surely he wasn’t going to make you say it? Hadn’t he heard enough? You’d only known him so long, but Jason seemed intelligent enough to connect the dots. But he only stares patiently at you, waiting.

“I..” you lick your lips, throat suddenly dry. “I’ve never done this before.”

The look in his eyes confirms your suspicions – he had only wanted to hear you say it. It’s no less gentle, but his touch tightens around you a little, and you swallow as his pupils, already blown wide, seem to darken even more.

“Done what, baby?” he rasps out, lowering his head to nose at the column of your throat. “Let a stranger take you back to his room?”

You squirm in his arms, hands coming up to clutch the fabric of his shirt, fistfuls of cotton wrinkling under your touch.

“Mmh..no..I mean..yes..but–”

“But what?” he mumbles into your jaw.

“I’ve never – with anyone,” you stutter out, squeezing his shoulders, tucking your face into his collar.

He withdraws then, eyes glossy. “No one?” he asks, voice steady save for the hitch in his breath when you shake your head.

“Is–is that okay?” you ask and his eyes slip shut for a second, forehead falling forward to press against yours. The both of you stand in the living area of his obscenely large hotel room, but all you see is aqua eyes, curtained by thick lashes, staring into yours.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes out a laugh, thumb sliding a path back up to your cheek. “Is that okay with you? I don’t expect anything, we can hang out a little longer, or I can walk you back down to your room–”

“No!” you protest, and his eyes widen. You scrunch your eyes closed, lowering your voice. “No, I…I do want to – y’know.”

He laughs, and you feel the press of his mouth against your cheek, there and gone just as quickly. It’s chaste, and sweet.

“Yeah?” he asks, amused. “You want to…y’know?”

You frown at him, nerves steadily melting away as he grins at you. You’ve known him less than a week but this familiarity feels age old. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“Aw,” he snickers, smoothing your pout away with a kiss. “‘M sorry. You’re just cute. I can’t help it.”

You have to squirm away when his fingers pinch your sides teasingly, laughing too loudly for the hour it currently is. He doesn’t seem to care that you might be disturbing the other guests – but you suppose for what he must’ve paid for this room, any sound is unlikely to bleed through the walls. “Stop! Stop!”

He grins at you, ceasing his attack. Eyes softening, he tilts his head, gesturing to the living space you’d overlooked. A chaise longue and expensive looking sofa are arranged neatly, flowers blooming in a vase on the coffee table. You spy a book resting beside it, neatly bookmarked with a slip of paper you recognise to be hotel stationery, the filigree border sticking out from between the pages giving it away.

“C’mere, sweetheart. I wanna kiss you a bit more.”

You kick your heels off, the sparkly shoes you’d spent more money on than you ought to have landing sideways beside his. Your feet sink into the plush carpet below as you pad over to the couch, falling into Jason’s lap with a delighted giggle when he pulls you close. Knees bracketing his hips, your skirt slides up dangerously, but you’re more focused on the slide of his mouth against yours.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Jason breathes into your mouth, and your eyes droop, smiling against him. Big hands settle against the small of your back, and Jason swallows the surprised noise you make when you feel him under you, thick, and hard. “Got me so fuckin’ hard for you, sweetheart. Can you feel that?”

You rock your hips shyly, squirming on his lap, letting out a breath when you feel him bump against your covered clit, pleasure pooling low in your gut.

“Mmh..there you go,” Jason whispers, guiding you along his lap. You whine into his mouth, eyes shutting at the slide of his tongue against yours. It’s slow, and a little messy, the way he kisses you, spit slicked lips sliding against yours, hands rocking you back and forth.

You have no idea what the time is, your phone lying abandoned in the depths of your purse, forgotten in the entryway next to your shoes. Orange light burns through the back of your eyelids, and fatigue renders your limbs heavy against Jason – it’s been a long day and an even longer night, but you aren’t quite ready to give it up yet, too drunk on this new experience to call an end to it.

An open window nearby lets in a stream of air, cool against your flushed skin and some way down the road, a car beeps on the motorway. Jason, beneath you, rolls his hips up into your aching centre and you mewl. He laughs as you break away, panting, lips shiny with spit. You go dizzy at the sight.

“So fuckin’ noisy,” he laughs, leaning back against the couch. He looks sinful, head tipped back to expose his throat, thick thighs spread and hands on your hips. Like he’s at your mercy. Power ripples beneath your fingertips as you touch his neck, skimming over his Adam's apple. Almost as if in a trance, you lower your head to bite at the skin, tongue laving at the mark and relishing in the groan he lets out.

“You sure-” he gasps when you do it once more. “Y’sure you’ve never done this before?”

“Mhm,” you hum, sucking a mark below his ear. You pull away, breath hitching at the sight of the bruise blooming there. His eyes are already on you when you meet his gaze, half-lidded and hungry.

“‘M so fucking lucky, aren’t I?” he rasps, resting a hand on the back of your neck and bringing you down to him. “Nobody else gets you like this, do they.”

You shake your head in affirmation and he grins, a little pleased. And then, his gaze is drifting down to the neck of your dress.

It’s a pretty thing, the both of you know it, daringly lowcut – more than you would have ever braved to wear back home. But here, you are something else entirely, a flower in bloom. There is no one to tell you no, to heed caution. No nosy eyes – the only gazes on you now are heavy with something else. You see the same heaviness in Jason’s eyes as he drinks in the red swathing your figure.

You’d seen it in the store and known – this was it. This would be the one. Every stitch and fold of it had been made in your image, you’d known it from the moment you laid your eyes on it, only confirmed by the reflection in the dressing room mirror.

“Baby,” Jason says suddenly, voice sounding shot, eyes turning pleading and hands trailing back down to fist at your dress. “Can I take this off?”

You find yourself nodding fervently, so eager that any pretense of playing coy slips right out of your head as you lean up and forward, closing your eyes as his fingers pull the zip at your side and pull the material up your figure. It’s unbearably slow, and the drag of the fabric up your skin leaves goosebumps in its trail, your heart hammering in your chest as inch by inch, you are bared to his eyes. When the skirt gathers at your waist, only just covering your panties, Jason groans, eyes tracing your thighs hungrily. He pauses a moment, and you tremble atop him. It’s only a moment – he resumes his path.

Everything is still, and quiet around the both of you. Only your shared breathing, heavy – and, you imagine, wrapping around the other, invisible. Your heartbeat thunders in your ears, and you curl your fingers into fists where they rest on your thighs.

“Up, baby,” Jason murmurs, and you raise your arms, shuddering as the dress is lifted totally. It hits the ground behind you with a quiet flutter, and you’re left atop Jason’s lap in only the pretty panties you’d slipped on before dinner.

Before dinner, when you’d flounced around your hotel room, running back and forth across the wardrobe and your suitcase and your vanity, silk robe slipping down your shoulders, giggling with your best friend. You’d slipped on the scrap of material after your shower, shrieking when she’d voiced the thought you’d quietly entertained – who exactly are you putting those on for?

Their intended subject breathes out a sigh when his eyes land on them, a groan caught in his throat. The hardness pressed against your thigh is an attestation to just how much he likes it.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” Jason tips forward to press his forehead to your shoulder, and your breath hitches when the movement causes his nose to brush against your bare skin, lips so close to your breast you can feel his breath. “Been wanting to do that from the moment you showed up at my door.”

“Yeah?” you breathe out shyly, face warming. His resounding “Mhm.” vibrates against your shoulder.

“Y’showed up looking like sin, princess,” he mumbles, a sloppy kiss pressed to your skin. And then another, and another. He moves slowly, with precision, and you’re burning for him. “Thought about just locking the door and ripping that damn dress off you – ‘m surprised you didn’t notice how hard I got.”

Your eyes flicker down but his broad shoulders obscure your view, curling over you, leaving wet kisses over every bit of skin he can reach.

“Mmh, baby y’gotta talk to me,” Jason sighs, pulling away and you almost keen at the loss, chasing after him when he sinks back into the couch cushions, hands steadying you as you tip forward. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what?” you whisper, nose to nose.

Up close, he is even more beautiful, golden and freckled from the summer sun. His eyelashes are thick, fluttering with every blink. He watches you, and you are reminded of a big cat, lazy eyes fixed on its prey, slow, smouldering blinks as he stares at you.

“You want me to take care of you?” he breathes out, and you nod. He shakes his head. “Gotta hear you say it out loud, sweetheart. You can do that for me can’t you?”

His voice drops into a coo, encouraging in all the ways to make your head dizzy, every thought turning syrupy thick when he bumps his nose against yours, coaxing.

“Say it for me, baby,” he murmurs into your mouth, capturing your bottom lip between his. You feel the barest drag of his teeth and you whimper – he catches that too. “Aw, c’mon pretty. I’ve barely done anything, yet. There’ll be time for that later. Y’just gotta tell me.”

“Jason, I-” you gasp out, when he rocks his hips up into you. “Please? Please…”

“Please what?”

If they could only see you now. Shame and desire race through your veins, circling each other in a vicious stand-off. Will you give in? Will you see it through? You’ve come this far. Ruination is only a murmur away.

“Fuck me,” you whisper, and his eyes gleam.

Jason hauls you up from the couch in one swift movement that leaves you grappling for his shoulders, but his hold is firm – you’re in no danger of falling, unless he intends it. Mouth on yours, he crosses the living space and you enter the bedroom, the mammoth of a bed coming closer into view. You only register it in your periphery, much too preoccupied with the brush of Jason’s tongue against yours, yet another new, dizzying sensation that clouds your senses.

And then you’re falling back, landing amongst the sheets of his bed. Jason hovers above you – still clothed. You quirk a brow expectantly at him and he pauses. He follows your gaze, and snickers when he realises.

“I guess I’m being pretty unfair, huh,” he murmurs, leaning in to kiss you. “I’ve got you all pretty and bare for me and I’m still dressed. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

Jason is, impossibly, even more attractive under his clothes. He shucks the jacket and top, and your throat dries at the sight of him, all soft muscle and broadness. Every inch of him has been carved with a careful hand, and you drag your gaze downwards as he tugs his sweats off, left in only a pair of black boxer briefs. Powerful thighs flex as he steps out of his clothing, and you have to bite back the urge to learn forward and press your mouth to him, to sink your teeth into the muscle of his chest.

“Hope that’s a good silence,” he remarks, kicking his sweats away and you snap your eyes back up to him, a nervous laugh bubbling from your lips.

“It is,” you assure. Bravely, you reach out to take his hand, and his eyes soften a little when you do. “You’re…no one should look like that.”

Pink dusts the top of his cheeks and he laughs. “I’m glad you think so.” He shakes his head then, and draws closer. “Tonight’s about you, though, princess. Can you lay back for me?”

“Like this?” you ask, unsure, settling yourself against his pillows, legs bent together. He smiles, kneeling at the foot of the bed.

“Not quite,” he says, a warm hand coming to cup your calf. “This okay? If you wanna stop, just let me know. Pinch me, or something. Promise I’ll stop.”

You nod, and nod once more, and he drops a kiss to the inside of your knee as he maneuvers your legs so they’re spread, allowing him to draw closer. All that stands between his gaze and your most sensitive parts is a scrap of fabric, and you see his eyelids droop as he settles on his stomach, breath skimming your inner thigh.

“You’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you?” he asks, tilting his head, expectant. His voice is gentle, coaxing, and you find yourself nodding, eager to please him. He smiles, and it’s like starlight, reddened mouth curving up to reveal pearly whites.

“Yeah,” he sighs, pleased. Fingers trail up your legs, pushing them further apart with a firmness that is equally as gentle. “Knew you would. My girl knows how to listen t’me. So sweet for me. ‘M gonna kiss you now, ‘kay, sweetheart?”

You’re tipping your chin and then your panties are being hooked to the side and there’s a mouth on you, warm, and wet, tongue curling against your clit in a movement that draws a gasp right out of you, squirming against the sheets, both chasing and drawing away from the unfamiliar sensation. Jason laughs at the sound, only pressing closer to you with an arm hooking across your hips to keep you still.

Your vision swims, and you press your head back into the pillows, the canopy above you blurring under every artful lash and lick of Jason’s tongue. Your hands fist the sheets when he closes his lips around your clit, sucking gently – desire burns in your gut and explodes behind your eyes with his movements, your hips lurching off the mattress only to meet the steel resistance of his arm.

“Jason,” you cry, only growing warmer when he snakes his free hand up your torso to pinch your nipple, squeezing your breasts as he works his mouth.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just-” he cuts himself off, spitting onto your folds – only adding to the mess you’re sure you’ve made. You shudder and he laughs against your skin. “Mmh, just like that, just like that…”

Your hand finds its way into his hair, fingers sinking into thick black locks and tugging before you can register the impulse. You draw away, a babbled apology on your tongue but he only catches your wrist as it raises and pushes it back with a husky laugh.

“Touch me all you want,” he says, kissing your thigh. “Want you to feel good, angel.”

“It does,” you pant, too caught up to find any embarrassment in the needy pitch of your voice, too eager to get his mouth back on you. He grins, knowingly, and raises his hand, reaching to press his fingers against your lips.

“Get my fingers wet f’me, baby,” he says.

It feels debauched, the way you let him part your lips and sink his fingers in your mouth, pressing heavy on your tongue. Drool collects, and you flick your tongue against his thick digits, sucking. His eyes shutter, and you find yourself pleased to have turned the tables, even if only momentarily. He retracts his fingers soon, and you follow the string of spit with your eyes, flinching when it snaps, smearing against your chin.

“That’s my girl,” he exhales. “‘M gonna stretch you out, okay? Tell me if it’s too much.”

“Okay,” you murmur, resting a hand across the arm on your hips. He pushes himself up onto his haunches, and then there’s a finger pressing at your entrance. It’s a foreign feeling – Jason’s fingers are much thicker than your own, and you tense up at the intrusion, but he notices.

“Take a breath for me,” he tells you firmly, other hand stroking your skin comfortingly. “It’ll be more uncomfortable if you’re tense like that. There you go, take another for me, good girl.”

He leans up to kiss you, and you clutch his shoulders tightly when his thumb circles your clit in gentle circles, finger steadily pressing into you. You breathe through it, feeling small under his frame, but grateful for the cover. Jason whispers praise into your skin as you take him slowly, and you tip your head back as slowly, your body adjusts to the stretch.

“So good for me,” he tells you, and your eyes burn, tears crowding your lashline at the rush of emotions – it’s so much, all at once. You can’t quite make sense of things anymore, entirely consumed by the feeling of him, over, around, inside.

And still, when he deems you properly prepped, you feel you’ve entered an entirely new ballpark when he slides your panties off and removes his underwear, cock springing up and slapping against his stomach.

It isn’t as though you’ve never seen one before. The internet, and sex ed classes had at least given you some idea about what to expect, but –

Jason is big. Even inexperienced, you know this. Your mouth dries the longer you stare at it, so thick you wonder how he’s going to fit it inside you – can he? Trepidation settles in your lower gut, but with it, something else. You sit up on shaky arms, and curiosity spurs you on to reach for him, tucking your legs beneath you as you shuffle closer.

He lets you touch him, teal eyes watching in silence as your hand brushes along his hip, dipping down to press against his thigh. Skirting around where you really want to touch. When he exhales above you, you look up to find him softly smiling, amusement in the curve of his mouth.

“I don’t bite,” he says softly, fingers coming to wrap around your wrist gently, guiding your touch to his cock. The both of you shudder when you make contact, wrapping around his length experimentally. The weight of him in your hands makes your heart thrum, and you don’t realise you’ve drawn closer until he’s pulling you away just as your lips hover over the head of him.

You look up questioningly, and he gives you a reassuring grin, caressing your cheek. “Later, sweetheart. I wanna make you feel good.”

“Promise?” you murmur and he nods, looping his pinky around yours.

And then you’re being pressed back down into the sheets, a mouth on yours and Jason’s tongue licking at the seam of your lips. And you know you ought to be a little more responsible, when he presses on your bare heat, precum smearing at your entrance, but there’s a rush in the thought of having him wholly – of letting go of responsibility for just one night.

You’ve been good all your life, you figure you’re allowed one moment of recklessness.

He’s prepped you well, but the first press of his head inside still makes you gasp, stomach tightening as he enters you. He swallows the sound in his mouth, humming assuringly against your lips.

“Mmh, you’re doin’ so good for me,” he mumbles, sloppily kissing your jaw, and you throw your arms around his neck, tucking your face into his shoulder. “Breathe, breathe, princess.”

Inch by inch, he pushes until you’ve taken the entire length of him, settling there for you to adjust. You can feel it in your throat, every bit of skin and heat making your blood simmer, your eyes rolling slightly at the stretch.

“You okay?”

Jason brushes a few fingers across the back of your neck, and the touch is grounding, drawing your attention back to him. You nod, and he lets out a little laugh.

“So sweet for me,” he mutters, dropping a kiss to your head. You exhale against his collar, returning it to the spot above his heart, lips smudging against his chest and leaving a streak of colour where your lipstick rubs off. You grin privately, repeating the motion. The hand at your hip squeezes affectionately, and he speaks again. “Gonna start moving now, okay?”

“Mhm.” It’s a needy sound – not the first one he’s pulled out of you tonight, and when he rolls his hips, thumb catching at your clit, you wager it won’t be the last.

You lose all ability to think within minutes. Jason is attentive, and every touch lights you on fire, leaves you feeling scraped raw, every nerve sensitive to him. Everything feels amplified as he thrusts, making ample of use of his mouth and fingers in time with his movements. You’re clutching him, clutching the sheets, legs shaking around his waist.

The hotel room is filled with the sounds of your pleasure, Jason drawing moan after moan, whimpers and desperate moans from your lips – absently, you wonder, is that you, making all that noise? It seems utterly discomposed, something too filthy for the otherwise pristine room you’re in. But Jason is uncaring and if anything, it only spurs him on, gripping you tighter.

“Fuck,” he hisses, biting at your shoulder and you whine, nails biting into the meat of his shoulder. “That’s it, princess, you sound so fucking pretty.”

Sweat gathers in the dip of your brow, lines your skin and his as his hips cant into yours. His head dips down to catch a nipple in his mouth, teeth grazing the your sensitive bud. You choke on a gasp, throwing your head back into the pillows. He grins, letting go with a wet pop.

“Jason.” you sob out and he coos.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he says, leaning down so you’re nose to nose. You gaze at him through half-lidded eyes, unable to keep them open. “‘M I making you feel good? This what you expected?”

“F-feels so good,” you cry, the tears that have been gathering finally slipping free, streaking down your face as he rocks into you. His teeth gleam in the low light, victory in the stretch of his lips – the light haloes around him and he looks divine, bronzed and eclipsing your entire body with his.

He thrusts faster, a little harder, and you clutch his arm suddenly, feeling the pleasure rising in to a crescendo in your stomach. His name falls off your lips, coloured in desperation and tears, and you buck your hips up in an effort to match his.

“You close, sweetheart?” he pants and you keen.

“Uh-huh,” you mewl, voice pitching as you draw him down into a messy kiss, a meeting of teeth and tongue that leaves you dizzy.

“Fuck, princess, that’s it,” he groans, a hand coming around your lower back to lift you closer. The other circles your clit faster, and you cry out. “That’s it, come for me. Just let go for me, I know you can do it. You’re such a good girl, been so good for me, you deserve to come, don’t you? C’mon sweetheart, just like that.”

You break with a squeal, coming apart around his cock. It’s intense, the wave that crashes over you and swims through your body, reaching every nerve ending and muscle. And he doesn’t stop, fucking you through it with steady thrusts that don’t relent. You’re pushing at his stomach, fingers desperately clawing at him. It’s dizzying, and you clench down harder, drawing a groan from him.

“Shit, baby,” he gasps, forehead dropping to yours. “Sweetest fucking pussy, ‘m so fucking close.”

You can only tilt your head up to capture his mouth, biting down on his bottom lip. He pulls away swearing, sweat lining his brow.

“Gonna come,” he chokes out, forehead creasing as his eyes squeeze shut. You squeeze down around him once again, and he moans.

“Come for me,” you breathe out, and he shakes his head, looking pained. His lips turn down into a pout, and though you’ve little energy in your body, you want nothing more than to sink your teeth into it. You fear that by doing this, he’s woken something in you now – there is no coming back from the monster he’s made of you, the insatiable hunger he’s called on.

“Don’t say that, baby,” he barely manages to grit out. “I can’t, I-”

He pulls himself out suddenly, fisting his cock over your body. You realise just how close he was when in a few quick strokes, he comes over your stomach, shooting onto your skin with a strangled noise.

“Fuck!”

Silence falls over the room, save for your heavy breaths. You sink back into the pillows, spent and Jason lowers himself beside you, reaching out to pull you close. You tuck yourself into his side, and the muffled sound of his heartbeat reaches you from beneath your cheek.

“How you feeling, sweetheart?” A hand settles on the dip of your back, thumb skimming across the expanse sweetly. “Talk t’me.”

“Good,” you slur out, eyes slipping closed. Your own pulse steadily throbs in your ears and you can feel the fatigue settling in your muscles, sapped of your strength. “So tired.”

“Yeah?” he questions, affection colouring his voice. You hum, nosing at him as though you could burrow closer.

“Rest a bit. I’ll get up in a moment, run you a bath,” he promises you, voice rough. “Gotta get you cleaned up.”

“You’ll come with?” you ask quietly, and he sighs, amused. He rubs your back.

“Yeah, princess, I’ll come with.”

With that, you close your eyes, letting the sounds of the city bleed in through the window. Jason’s heart beats steadily beneath you, fingers tracing up your bare spine, and you succumb to sleep.

everybody say thank you ro you're the best ro you wrote the best first proper smut fic ever ro. jk but this was so hard to get through i would like to thank miss lana del rey herself, my smut writing playlist and the guide to writing smut by @/mevima because they were my lifelines. and also my bestest friend in the world for reading over this for me despite not knowing a single thing about dc beyond the barest minimum she is my angel and guiding star everybody give her a round of applause.

i considered quitting kinktober so many times writing this you have no idea. tell your favourite smut authors you love them because genuinely...after kinktober i'm going back to fluff /lh. also please don't expect this length for every kinktober piece hahaha this fic is just it's own creation and would not let me write anything less than 5k. we'll be returning to our regular programming soon.

#mdni banner by benkeibear #mangacap by shoujo-dreamland #jason todd smut #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #x reader #jasonsmirrorball #kinktober 2023 #ro's kinktober '23 #jay my heart

424 notes · View notes