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#..that’s one way to call the bitch you’ve been seeing
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congrats on 5k! can i get a chocolate chip cookie🍪 for bitchykook! reader + ‘home to another one’ by madison beer
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₊˚⊹ᰔ 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞
pairing: rafe cameron x bitchy!kook!reader
summary: ❝call me baby, i know you go back home to another one.❞ — rafe still finds a way to contact you after being with someone else for over a year.
warnings: slight angst, rafe is so mean in this one, arguing, a little bit of name calling lol
word count: 0.5k
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“why do you keep doing this?” you sighed into your phone, pinching the bridge of your nose. it was two in the morning, and of course rafe was calling you from an ‘unknown’ number. “i just wanna talk, please don’t hang up this time. just hear me out.” he whispered, making your eyebrows furrow. “why are you whispering, weirdo?” you sat up, taking his silence as your answer. “you, asshole! is she right next to you?” you gasped, getting out of bed and turning on your lamp. the nerve this man had. “no, no, no, i’m- fuck! i’m by myself.” he lied. you rolled your eyes as rafe shuffled around his room, finally deciding it was best to take this phone call somewhere where his girlfriend wasn’t sleeping.
“you’re the worst, you know that?” you ran your fingers through your hair. “yes- i know that, i know..” he trailed off. “look, i can’t do this anymore, i miss you and i need you back. this girl, she’s like a goody goody, alright? she’s boring.” you shook your head at his words. “boring? so you’ve been bored for over a year? you sound ridiculous.” you scoffed, putting him on speaker so you could examine your nails. “she’s talking about wanting to get married and having kids and shit, but i don’t even love her. we have nothing in common, i don’t know how she doesn’t see that!” you were in disbelief. “do you hear yourself? you sound like a psychopath!” you started, “why are you still with that poor girl if you feel this way?” you asked, genuinely concerned.
“i can’t just break things off with her if you won’t take me back, it defeats the whole purpose.” you narrowed your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. “what do you mean ‘it defeats the whole purpose’?” you shot back. “i thought if i got with someone else you’d regret breaking things off with me and want me again.” you couldn’t believe your ears, surely they were playing tricks on you. without knowing what to say, you stayed silent. “she doesn’t fight me, she doesn’t resist me, she doesn’t keep me on my toes, i need that.” rafe looked around, making sure he was still the only one in the room.
one of the main reasons why you broke up with rafe was because he said he wanted a girl that didn’t do everything he just listed, and now that he has that girl, he’s back on your phone saying the opposite. “you’ll never be happy with what you have, will you? you calling me has nothing to do with wanting me back, but everything to do with the fact that you’re scared to be by yourself. i may be a bitch, but i’m not cruel. leave that girl alone if you don’t love her,” you took your phone back in your hand, “and if you call me again, i’ll make sure your ‘goody goody’ girlfriend gets all the screenshots of you trying to talk to me over the course of your relationship.. if you could even call it that. don’t you ever call me again.”
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maskedbyghost · 10 hours
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lets continue our talk about situationship!Simon, where this bitch grovels for monthssss
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situationship!simon starts sending you text messages. before you could expect something like "you up?" or "come to my office.", but after you broke things off with him, simon started sending you heartfelt text messages, apologizing for his past behavior. “i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between us,” he texted one night. “i realize now how much i hurt you, and i’m truly sorry, love. i understand if you need space, but i wanted you to know how much i regret everything.”
along with his messages, simon started sending you small but meaningful gifts. he remembered how you’d joked about his tea obsession once and that you’d mentioned you only liked chamomile. to your surprise, he found the best brand of chamomile tea and even packed it in a nice box before delivering it to your room.
he even started to open up more. during a late-night phone call, where you could clearly hear that he was drunk, simon said that he started seeing a therapist. “i’m workin on understandin my issues and changin for the better. i want to be better, not just for you love, but for myself. i hope you can see that i’m tryin to change.”
when you asked him to stop calling you love, he refused. “i can’t help it. you’re mine in a way no one else could be, and i don’t want to pretend otherwise.”
as simon keeps showing up with gifts and heartfelt messages, you can’t help but wonder if he’s being real or if he’s just trying to win you back before breaking your heart again.
you still go on dates with other people, and simon is tormented every time he sees you leaving the base in those pretty dresses—dresses he wishes were just for him. he follows you, quietly lurking in the corners of the restaurants or bars where you’re out with your dates. oddly enough, most of the guys you go out with either get transferred to another base or stop calling you after just one date, and you’re doing your best not to blame simon for it. but you know it's him. and he is not sorry at all.
almost every day, simon texts you, asking you out on dates and planning special things for the who of you. all you have to do is say yes, but each time, you refuse. it breaks his heart every time, but it also makes him more determined to try even harder. he knows he deserves this treatment from you.
back when you and simon used to train together on base, it was a special routine you both enjoyed. now, you’ve started asking other guys to help you with exercises, and it drives him wild with jealousy. watching their hands on you makes him see red. after your training sessions with them, simon invites these guys to spar with him. it quickly becomes clear that he’s using these sparring matches as a chance to take out his frustration and anger, landing a few extra hits just to make his point.
despite everything, you still won’t budge, and it’s only making simon more frustrated. the truth is, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to resist him. his persistence is wearing you down, and the more he pushes, the more you find yourself struggling to stay strong.
simon invites you to one of his therapy sessions, saying his therapist thinks it would be helpful for him and his progress. during the session, he opens up about his struggles and insecurities, laying everything bare. as he talks, you start to feel sympathy for him. it’s clear he’s determined to change and work on himself, and you see how genuine his efforts are.
one night, you were preparing tea in the kitchen when a girl you know from the base asked for simon’s number. she mentioned she was interested in him, which made you jealous. you snapped at her, making it clear that he would never be interested in a girl like her. simon overheard the whole thing and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. it was clear you still had feelings for him, and he took a bit of satisfaction in that.
later that night he sent one simple message to you: "that's my girl. i belong to you, and you only."
after that message, simon stepped up his game. he started sending you lots of sweet texts and little gifts, and even took care of some of your paperwork. it was hard to ignore how much he was trying, and you found it tougher to resist him as he kept showing you how much he cared.
a few months after managing to ignore simon as best as you could, you caught a nasty cold and were stuck in your room. you only texted price to let him know you needed a few days off because you were sick, and got back in your bed trying to sleep that cold off. a few hours later, as you were still trying to fall asleep, you heard your door open. simon walked in, carrying a bunch of bags, a worried look on his face.
“i came as soon as I could,” simon said, worry in his voice. “i brought you soup and medicine.”
simon didn’t leave your side for days. he only went back to his room to grab more clothes and shower. he was insistent on helping you with everything, even assisting you with your showers in the most respectful way possible of course. he’d sit in a chair next to your bed, and you felt a pang of guilt seeing how much he was giving up for you. you even tried to convince him to go get some rest, but despite your protests, he somehow ended up in your bed, gently spooning you as you slept.
simon would whisper sweet things in your hair, thinking you were asleep. you heard every word as he softly talked about how much he missed you, how sorry he was for everything, and how he wanted to make things right. even though you were sick and exhausted, his words touched you deeply.
once you were feeling better, you found simon sitting alone in a common room, lost in thought. you approached him quietly and gently kissed the side of his face. with a soft smile, you whispered, “take me on that date you promised.”
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@daydreamerwoah
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bullet-prooflove · 15 hours
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The Better Man: Richie Jerimovich x Reader
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Tagging: @kmc1989 @lostinwonderland314 @fallout-girl219 @wabi-sabi1090 @morgthemagpie
Companion piece to:
One Night Stand (NSFW) - It was never meant to be more than a one night stand.
Old School - Richie and you prefer to do things old school.
Safe With You - Richie still has nightmares about how he found Michael.
Joy - The stabbing leads Richie to confront some of the doubts he has about himself.
All The Good Ones Are (NSFW) - Richie has never thought of himself as one of the good ones.
Happy Anniversary - Richie fucks up your first wedding anniversary.
Gift (NSFW) - Richie has always thought of you as a gift.
86 - Richie 86es a patron at The Bear.
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It’s Saturday and Richie’s busy with the service when you pop in to pick up the takeout Carmy usually prepares for you. It’s a form of penance him and Richie worked out for fucking up your wedding anniversary. He has to make sure you’re fed every Saturday evening for the next three months to make up for monopolising your husband on what Richie deems the most important day of the year.
“Hey baby.” He greets you with a fierce kiss, one that you feel all the way down to your toes. “I can’t stop for too long.”
“I don’t mind.” You murmur with that sinful smile of yours as your fingertips straighten the lapels of his suit. “As long as you’re not too tired when you get home.”
“Never.” He whispers as his forehead comes to rest against yours. “I’m never too tired for that.”
It’s as you draw away that the expression on your face changes. Your shoulders tense and your eyes linger on something over his shoulder.
“Joy?” He questions, following your gaze as your grip on his sleeve tightens.
“Richie.” You whisper. “What is Peter doing here?”
Richie has never actually laid eyes on your ex-husband. You’d cut off all contact after you divorced the son of a bitch. He’d sent you a bottle of champagne shortly after the two of you got married with a card that said. “Don’t fuck it up this time.”
Richie had taken you out to the wasteland where his father had taught him how to shoot, before watching you blow away a thousand dollar bottle of champagne with his 9mil. It had been both cathartic and exhilarating.
Peter smiles at you from his seat, raising a hand up in greeting and something ignites inside of Richie, something furious and vengeful.
“Sugar.” He says with a dangerous lilt. “I thought we 86ed him?”
Sugar’s fingertips runs down the appointment book before it lands on the notation.
“I called him up myself.” She tells the both of you. “He must have rebooked under another name.”
“That deviant motherfucker.” Richie spits out, his eyes full of murder.
“Richie.” You say softly, tugging on his sleeve and he tilts his head towards you. “It’s ok.”
Your words should placate him but they don’t because he knows that Peter has done this intentionally, that it’s a way of fucking with your boundaries, encroaching on your territory. Your ex, he used to play mind games with you, gaslight you. Richie knows his presence here tonight is just another version of that, a way of showing you he still has control.
“I’ll see you at home.” You say, pressing your lips to his cheek.
It’s only as he watches your car exit the parking lot that he realises you’ve left behind the food that Carmy made for you. He tosses it in the trash before returning to work, waiting for his opportunity to confront that that fuckhead.
It’s when Peter stand up to use the bathroom that Richie accosts him. He grasps the other man by the scruff of his neck before he hurls him down the corridor and through the back exit.
“How fucking dare you.” Richie erupts when they break out into the alleyway. “How dare you come here and pull this shit. I should wipe that smug fucking smile right off your face.”
“And end up with a jail sentence?” Peter says, tilting his head to one side. “That would really fuck shit up for you and Joy wouldn’t it?”
“How the fuck do you know…”
“About your suspended licence or your aggravated assault charge?” Peter finishes as he tucks his hands into his pockets. “You think I wouldn’t check up on the man my ex-wife married?”
“That’s some fucked up shit right there.” Richie says, crossing his arms over his chest. “You know she told me you had issues with control but this is next level.”
Peter shrugs his shoulders.
“I like to see who my competition is.” He remarks and Richie shakes his head with a sardonic smile because he knows what this is about.
Peter had never expected you to leave him, you’d played the good wife for such a long time and then one day you’d had divorce papers delivered to his office. The final straw had been when he’d had lingerie sent to you. It was two sizes too small and had been addressed ‘To Emily’.
“This-” Richie says gesturing between the two of them. “-is not a competition. You treated her like dirt, like she was absolutely nothing.”
Peter laughs then and the sound grates across Richie’s nerves as he pushes past Richie, barging against his shoulder.
“Women like Joy, that’s how they like to be treated.”
Richie’s hand catches his arm, his hand squeezing so hard that Peter winces at the sensation as the fabric of his designer suit creases underneath Richie’s fingers.
“Play all the games you want motherfucker, but that woman is never coming back to you.” Richie tells him with a ferocity in his eyes. “You and I both know the better man won.”
Love Richie? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.
Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee
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sharkenedfangs · 2 months
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I just saw about Whitney's mom thing. If possible could you provide the screenshot of the QnA? I haven't really check on QnA recently but I don't remember it being an old ask (or maybe I missed it). Thank you!
Sure thing. Was actually a discord screenshot, so I think I hit my head real hard when I said that shit came from a QnA on the blog. It’s no problem.
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..This adorable little twink.
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 10 months
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you’ve been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember.
sure, he had never outwardly called you his girlfriend, but when you were both seven years old, he came up to you. chest heaving slightly from running up and down the hill where he had gotten you a freshly plucked out bouquet of flowers. the roots were still clinging to them and he got dirt all over your hands from forcibly grabbing them and shoving the bouquet in them before you could even form a sentence.
“since you accepted the flowers, you’re mine now.” he mumbled, his little hands tightened into fists at his sides and chubby cheeks a cute shade of pink, staring at you as confidently as he could.
a grin grows on his face when you respond with a simple “okay !” and a bright smile. the grin on his face never disappears even as his mom scolds him for getting you both all dirty.
you were katsuki’s in middle school too, when the boys in class decided to play kiss, marry, kill and he had somehow gotten dragged into it. the girls in your class tried their best to seem uninterested, claiming the boys were being childish, but you noticed how hard some of them were straining their ears trying to hear what the guys were talking about in their own little corner of the room. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t a little curious as well.
katsuki was as ruthless as you’d known him to be, choosing to kill any girl that wasn’t to his liking, which ended up being all of them. much to the other boys’ chagrin, claiming he had no taste.
then your name was brought up.
at that, his eyes widened and he turned in his seat to see if you were watching. you had never turned your head away so fast in your life and you were pretty sure you heard something go “crack”.
he clicked his tongue. mumbling something about how stupid the game was before muttering out a “kiss yn, marry yn and kill that other bitch.” before getting up and stomping away, claiming he had to go to the bathroom followed closely by the whoops and hollers of his two friends behind him.
you both made eye contact when he walked out and you think you’ll never forget how red his cheeks were.
you were katsuki’s when he was the one to walk you to and from school everyday, claiming you would somehow get lost without him. you were katsuki’s when he had begrudgingly shoved homemade valentines day chocolates into your arms, mumbling something about how you had been upset nobody had gotten you anything last year, conveniently leaving out the fact he had scared off all the other guys trying to offer you anything.
you were katsuki’s when he grabbed your hand during the winter because he said you’d “end up dying of hypothermia with the way you’re chittering over there.” and you were his when you were the only person he laughed around. loud, genuine laughter that you and only you could squeeze out of him. you were katsuki’s when he randomly kissed you goodnight at your door one night and he’s been doing it ever since, and gets all pouty when you turn away from his kisses to tease him.
“are we dating ?” you had asked him. you’re both in high school now and you’re in his dorm room. your legs are on his lap and he’s got a comfortable grip on your leg, which tightens after he registers your questions “hah?” he looks utterly confused and a little insulted as he looks back at you, his entire face scrunched up in confusion. you pinch his nose and he swats at your hand.
“are we dating ? like—am i your girlfriend.” you say again and katsuki’s face scrunches up even harder. he huffs and looks back at his phone, landing a little smack on your leg still placed in his lap. “ ‘course yer my fuckin’ girlfriend.” he spits out, obviously irritated. then he looks back at you “I haven’t made it obvious ?” he says sarcastically. one of his eyebrows lifted as he pokes at your leg still very much in his lap.
you simply shrug “s’not that. it’s just because you’ve never actually asked me out before, so i was a little confused on where we stood.” you mumble. he stares at you while you speak and he stares a little longer before sighing. then he leans towards you and flicks your forehead.
“ow !”
“dumbass.” he murmurs. there’s a slight pout on his face and his cheeks are light shade of pink when he looks you in the eyes again. he grabs both your cheeks with one hand and smushes them together to push your lips out and presses multiple wet kisses onto them that have you squealing and squirming. his wet lips are pulled into a smirk when he pulls back and you try your best to at least look a little angry, you really do. but it’s useless when he looks at you like that.
“of course you’re my girlfriend” he reiterates. his smirk’s been replaced for something softer, something more sincere as he gazes at you with so much unadulterated affection it makes your head spin a little. “you’ve always been mine.” he says it in a teasing tone and his hand is still smushing your cheeks out and it hurts a little but his eyes are still the same. they’re warm and soft and so, so enamored with you and only you.
when he finally let’s go of your face and pulls you fully into his lap, you realize katsuki’s been yours for as long as you’ve been his.
you smile brightly at him but turn your nose up when he leans in to kiss you again. “i still haven’t heard what i wanna hear though, mr. bakugou.”
he rolls his eyes and pinches at your thigh as he mumbles out a “don’t call me that.” sighing, he looks at you intensely and you suddenly feel very shy.
“will you be my girlfriend, ya shitty girl ?” and he says it as a joke, you both know it is cus his lips are already forming into a smirk the second he finishes his sentence. and you’re pulling at his nose the moment you register it, but you’re both smiling hard. he laughs and you’re sure you’ll never get tired of the sound. “what’s your answer, pretty ?” he asks playfully and you pretend to really think it over just to mess with him, and giggling out a “yes!” when he suddenly pounces on you. flipping you both over and tickling you mercilessly, calling it revenge for you “taking too damn long to answer.”
you’d been katsuki’s for as long as you can remember, and you hope you can be forever.
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endlessthxxghts · 1 month
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Biology
“Uncle”!Joel Miller x afab!reader | w/c: 5.4k
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Summary: Joel hurt his back at work, so you've been helping him around the house until he heals.
Content/Warnings: able-bodied, female sex anatomy, and inherently fem!reader. No description of reader, everything is neutral (ex. “your bottoms,” “the curve of you” — nothing is specific in the way “you” are described). Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel in 50s). EXPLICIT MATERIAL PRESENT. HEED THE WARNINGS. WEIRD boundaries are crossed…you're not blood-related to Joel, but you were raised like you were. You call him “uncle.” Pet names (baby, darlin’, sweetheart, etc.). Pussy pronouns (she). Innocent touches until it isn't. Sexual tension galore. Slight dub-con. Icky Joel. Icky reader. Pussy grinding. Dirty talk. Slight degradation (“bitch” is used only once). Multiple orgasms. P in V unprotected. Reader is on top. Lots of teasing about the nature of yours and Joel’s relationship. If there’s anything that should be up here but I missed or I made any improper tags, please let me know!
A/N: Hi, my loves! This is slightly different than what you’re used to coming from me… All I can say is, you’ve read the warnings! Don’t bite if it is not your flavor! But for those who do like, I really hope you enjoy! And to my love @strang3lov3, thank you for prompting this and encouraging this side of my brain to finally stop hiding in the shadows. And thank you for your eyes on this and the mood board as well. I love you.🩶
masterlist | notifs blog
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“Hey, hon, when you headin’ over to uncle Joel’s?”
You glance at the timer on the oven. “In about ten minutes after these cookies cool. Need something from me?”
“Can ya grab my toolbox before ya leave? Forgot it there the other day,” he replies. “Figured you could get it since you’re already goin’ there today.”
“Sure thing. It’s not the heavy one, is it? Because I don’t know if that old man’s back is ready for a heavy lift like that yet.” The timer on the oven beeps. You slide on your oven mitts to pull the tray out. “Made two batches by the way. How many you want? I’m taking some to Uncle’s, too.” 
About a week ago, Joel had a contracting accident. Some newbie wasn’t watching the older man’s back as Joel climbed up a wobbly ladder, and the next moment, Joel’s footing slipped. He landed right on his lower back, a piece of wood perched on the ground, sitting at just the right spot on the floor to render him immobile. Tommy, Joel’s younger brother, and your father, his best friend since before you were born, are the only two Joel trusts to get the job done perfectly, so Joel put them two in charge until he heals. 
Bed rest, the doctor had ordered Joel, for at least three weeks. It’s been one so far, but with you offering to be his nurse — one that forces him to stay in bed unless he needs to eat or use the restroom — he thinks he just might be back to work by next week. If you’ll let him, that is. 
“No, it’s the small one, hon, you got it,” your father reassures you. He lovingly slaps his growing belly as the trays hit the kitchen counter. “Y’know, darlin’, ever since you moved back, I’ve been gainin’ some weight. Can’t imagine what you’re doin’ t’ Joel over there.”
Your lip pulls up in a smirk. “Joel is in good hands, y’know. And technically, I don’t have to leave you any,” you say with a challenging brow, pulling the cookie trays out of his reach. 
“No, no, I’m not sayin’ that,” your father’s eyebrows raise in worry. His daily cookie is very important to him. “You can leave me like… five… or six.” 
“I’m just gonna leave you a whole batch. The six are gonna be gone before I even leave the house,” you tell your father as his hand subconsciously reaches for the cookie tray. 
He scoffs, “Ya have no faith in me.”
“So what’s in your hand already?”
“Whatever,” he mumbles, walking away with a mouthful of warm cookie dough and melted milk chocolate chips. 
“Uh huh,” you yell back. “Gonna be leaving in just a sec. I’ll see you later.”
It takes less than ten minutes to get to your uncle’s house. You unlock the door using the spare key he gave you as a teenager, and immediately, nurse mode is activated. 
“Uncle Joel!” You yell, exasperated. He turns around from his place in the kitchen, painfully slow. He’s going to make his back worse. “What do you think you’re doing?” You place the fresh cookies on his dining table along with your keys. You cross your arms angrily for good measure. 
“My coffee’s cold. I was warmin’ it up,” he huffs, annoyed.
“Bed, please.” Your hands find his waist, and you guide him back to his room. “You know I’m here around this time. You didn’t wanna call me first to see where I was?”
You ease him in a sitting position at the edge of his bed. He grunts as his ass meets the mattress. He grumbles his response. “Need to start gettin’ back to everythin’ independently, y’know that, don’tcha?”
“Is your memory going with your back, too, unc?” 
“‘Scuse me?” He looks at you incredulously. 
“Three weeks were the doctor’s orders. Not one,” you tell him, putting your foot down. 
He lays himself down with another wince at the motion, no acknowledgement to your words. God, he’s so stubborn. 
“I’ll go make you a fresh cup,” you tell him, feeling sympathetic for the man. His work is his life, and it’s not going to get any easier with age. 
Making your way back to his kitchen, you wash out the coffee pitcher, replace the grounds and the filter, and do some light cleaning as you wait for the bitter, brown liquid to brew. 
It’s only been five minutes since you returned to the kitchen, and the painful moans and groans from his bedroom have only gotten louder. You search around the place and find the heat pack you bought a few days ago and pop it in the microwave. You grab some pain meds, fill up a glass of water, and just in time, the microwave sings to you, telling you your contents are ready. 
Ignoring the coffee for a moment, you make your way back to Joel’s bedroom. His eyes are closed, but his entire body is tensed up in pain. Poor guy. You knock at his door to catch his attention before entering. “Unc?”
One eye peels open. “Yes, nurse?”
“Funny.” A sarcastic laugh leaves your throat. “Come take these.”
He makes no move to get up. 
You set the painkillers and the water on his bedside table, the heat pack wedged underneath your armpit. You start to reach for Joel to help him up, but he stops you. “I got it,” he grunts. You let him have this win. 
You hand him the glass of water first, then the pills. He swallows the painkillers in one big gulp, swallowing down the rest of the water in another. He eyes the heat pack in your arm. 
“Do you want-”
“Yes,” he says immediately, reaching for the soft warmth. 
“Lay down first, I’ll put it underneath you.”
Without another word, he positions himself. His body jerks when your soft hand slips underneath his back, pushing him to lift a little while you slide the heat underneath. “This okay?”
“Mhm,” he forces out, eyes clamped shut. It’s not okay, you think. 
“How would you feel on your stomach?” you suggest. 
“Dunno. Never tried.”
“Well, then.” You set the heat pack down, and it’s your turn to crawl, uninvited, into his bed. You walk on your knees towards the opposite, unoccupied side, adjusting the pillows in a way you think might be the most comfortable. This isn’t your first rodeo dealing with an old man’s back; you’ve got your dad. This is, however, your first rodeo dealing with an old man more stubborn than a screaming goat not getting his way. “Come on.”
“No.” 
“What do you mean no?” 
“That ain’t gonna be comfortable.”
“How do you know?”
“I jus’ do.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose and take a deep breath. “I swear to God. I will flip your ass over myself if I have to.”
“You’re bossy,” he spits.
“So you’ve said.” 
Not giving him a chance to prepare, you hook your one hand at his side and your other on his hip, and you pull him towards you. It doesn’t fully flip him over, but it does the trick in getting him to finish the rest of the action himself — albeit, with a very strained yelp from the back of his throat. 
He groans for a few minutes more as you adjust some flat pillows underneath his belly and then prop the lukewarm heating back right at the base of his spine. You’ll probably have to heat it up in ten minutes again, but it’ll do for now. You stay in your spot for a minute, and already his pained noises begin to subside. 
“Better?” You know it is. You just want him to admit it. 
And when a single huff with zero protests from the grumpy man reverberates around the room, you know you’ve won this round. 
“I’ll go get your coffee now,” you hum. 
A soft rasp of your name has you spinning back around as you reach the room’s threshold. 
“Hm?”
“Thanks,” he tells you. 
“It’s what I’m here for, unc.”
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You put his fresh cup of coffee in a thermos this time. You can’t imagine how often he’ll get up being in this position, but at least the freshness will be there with every sip he does end up taking. 
“How’s it going?” You ask him as you set his coffee nearby. You feel the heat pack on his spine, and it’s as you called it to be by now: room temperature. “Want me to reheat it?” 
“‘M okay,” he replies, voice groggy. He must’ve fallen asleep. 
“Okay.” You stand there for a moment. You can tell the heat helped, but his body isn’t entirely relaxed. He’s still tense, as if a nerve or something is being pinched. 
You recall your memory from a while ago before you moved back with your dad. Your brother, who is a mixed martial arts athlete, had a sparring session that hurt his back, nearly in the same area as Joel. He had you running his massage gun over his muscles nearly every night for a month straight. “It needs to uncoil somehow,” he told you. An idea crosses your mind then. 
You saunter to Joel’s en suite bathroom in search of some type of lubricant. Sitting loud and proud on the center of the bathroom counter is a little bottle of Equate’s Personal Liquid Lubricant. Your brain falters for a second, the bottle of lube throwing you off your original plan. That is absolutely not the kind of lubricant you were looking for. Shaking away the image from your mind, you bend down to look in the cabinets underneath. Bingo, a bottle of Aveeno body lotion. This should do. 
You invite yourself onto his bed for the second time today. “Let me give you a massage.”
“What?” His head turns to you now, utterly confused. He definitely heard you wrong, he thinks. 
“Let me give you a massage,” you repeat. “It’ll help.”
A massage actually does sound nice right now. But you’ve been nothing but bossy this last week while Joel lays here helplessly. He’s bored. And he’s had enough. “It ain’t gonna help.”
“How do you know?”
“I jus’ do.”
Jesus. Haven’t you had this conversation before? You mentally slap your forehead. Again, leaving him no other options, you reach for his flannel atop his shoulders and begin to pull them down. 
“Hey, hey, wait, now what in the hell-” He tries to stifle back a laugh as he wriggles in your hold, trying to playfully push you off without hurting himself more in the process. 
You quickly release his clothes, hands up in surrender where he can see them. You’re just realizing now just how forward your action must’ve been. “How am I gonna massage you-” 
The embarrassment written all over your face has Joel tearing up as he tries to hold his wheezing laugh in. With his eyebrow quirked at you, he responds, “If you wanted me naked, kiddo-”
“Jesus, ew! Really?” An unbearable heat spreads across your cheeks. Your eyes are downcast, looking everywhere else but him. “It- it’ll be better if I can directly touch-”
Only then do you feel the bed shaking with his laughter. He’s fucking with you. And here you were, about to offer something that would relieve a whole lot of pain. “Oh, fuck you,” you scoff, pulling yourself up and making your way off of his bed. 
“No, okay, wait,” he laughs, trying to catch his breath. “Jus’ messin’ with you, who am I to deny a massage?” He raises his eyebrows once, twice. Still messing with you, seeing how far his taunting with you can go. 
“You’re disgusting,” you deadpan. 
“‘M not the one tryin’ t’ massage her uncle,” Joel says as he attempts to shrug his shoulders at you.
“I’m gonna leave now.” One foot makes it to the ground before Joel speaks again. 
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, ya can’t take a joke? I’m only messin’ around. Come back. Gonna leave me hangin’? In pain? C’mon, nurse.” His tone falls softer, sweeter. You can hear the shit-eating grin in his words. And, fuck, why is it making you heat even further, in places beyond your face? In places you shouldn’t be?
“Fine,” you relent. “Stop saying weird shit then.” You still can’t look at him. Not after the way your body decided to react in the shift of energy. An abrupt shift of energy, as far as you can tell. 
He’s your dad’s best friend. Your uncle, for crying out loud. Not by blood, but still. There’s never been a feeling beyond that. Sure, you’ve had your silly little school girl crush on him during your young teenage years, but that was your hormones being your hormones. You grew out of them. Even your own father can’t deny the conventional attractiveness of his best friend. 
Plus, suggestive commentary is bound to make anyone feel hot. It’s basic biology. Your response is nothing. It doesn’t mean anything. At least, that’s what you convince yourself of when you climb back into your uncle’s— no, into Joel’s bed, trying to ignore the way your panties stick dutifully against your throbbing core.
Joel leans onto his side as you get yourself situated, unbuttoning the bottom half of his flannel, so you can flip up the bottom to reach his lower back. After the bottom half of the buttons are undone, he lays back on his front. “Here,” he calls your name. “Jus’ lift it up from the bottom.”
You scoot closer to him, standing on your knees, and you reach over to grab the hem of his flannel, pulling it up as gently as possible, exposing just enough to be able to reach the irritated areas. You frown at what you see. Inflamed skin, purples and yellows dancing all across his lower back, forcing him away from the very thing he lives for. He may have been a stubborn bitch this entire week, but that doesn’t stop the sympathy you feel for the man. 
You put some of the lotion in your hand, rubbing it between your two palms to warm it up a little. You place your hand on the side closest to you first, moving in circular motions and adjusting your pressure ever so often. “Let me know when the pressure is good.”
So far he hasn’t said much, a slight groan here, an exhale there. You feel a knot as you move lower, so you increase your pressure. You’re met with a literal moan, and you swear you have to bite back your own vocal response. “Fuck,” he sucks in a sharp breath. “Yeah, jus’ like that, ‘s perfect, darlin’.” 
“Okay,” you squeak, your thighs clenching together to attempt any kind of relief to the heat between your legs. 
After a few more passes over the area — and a few more indulgent, harder presses of your palm to pull more angelic sounds from him — you switch to the other side. Except, at this angle, you don’t really have as good an angle as you did before. Your leg swings over his ass, bracketing him in between your thighs, before you can even register the move your body just made. A soft gasp falls from your lips as you feel the new angle you’ve just given yourself. 
“Joel?” You call sweetly. Innocently.”I- I’m not hurting you or anything, am I?”
Hurting? No. Putting him through Hell? Close enough. 
Joel has done many questionable things in his lifetime. Getting involved with taken (married or otherwise) women, couples who wanted a third… Joel has lived through it all. Mainly in his younger years, but nevertheless. He has done and seen many things. But none of these things have ever included getting a fucking hard on for a girl — a woman? — he practically had a hand in raising. You call him uncle, for crying out loud. 
His physical response means nothing. It’s basic biology. The tender yet skilled touch of your warm hands directly against his even hotter skin, lighting every single nerve ending on fire, forcing the blood to course through his veins, to make its way down south— 
“Christ-” he snarls as you practically sit on him. His mouth shuts instantly as his eyes shoot open. He didn’t mean for that to come out. “Y-yeah,” he corrects. “‘M alright.” 
“Just- just let me know,” you tell him. He can hear the shake in your voice. He can tell biology is doing a number on you, too, based on your tone alone, if the heat engulfing his rear as you try your best not to make contact with it isn’t enough to go by. 
He focuses on his breathing as best he can as your hands push slightly past his jeans, getting underneath the seam of his boxers, and then immediately softening your touch as you run your fingers up his spine, awaking a chill he never knew was possible until now. You rub beyond the exposed area of his lower back, reaching his shoulder blades and entirely up to his shoulders, forcing the flannel to rise with your hands. He’s so broad and warm, and you would absolutely be drooling all over him by now if you weren’t so shocked at how tight his muscles really feel. How has this man not gotten any injuries sooner? How was he still doing all this heavy lifting? You dig the pads of your finger tips further into the thousands of tiny knots you feel, and his body jerks in actual pain this time. 
“God damn, girl,” he snaps. “What are you doin’?” 
“How the fuck do you even function?” You sound genuinely horrified. 
“What-”
“Your shoulders and neck are fucking covered in knots how do you even-” you cut yourself off with a disappointed click of your tongue. “You need to flip over.” 
Fuck. 
“Why?” He asks defensively. 
“I’m gonna break these knots. I need to start from the front.” 
“Ya ain’t gettin’ anywhere near my neck, I swear to God-”
“Quit being stubborn. What did I say earlier? I’m gonna flip you myself if you don’t-”
“Alright, fine, gimme a sec,” he bites. Joel takes a deep breath, at war with himself for how he’s going to handle his next course of action. 
Whatever happens next, there is no avoiding the fact that you will be made aware of the bulging erection between his legs. You can know about it, that’s fine, but the second you make contact, he doesn’t know if he’ll have the strength to control himself. Which is why he rips off the band aid quick. Flipping himself over with you still hovering over him, he tries his best not to touch you. Though, the second he’s comfortable, his focus is on your waist, grabbing you immediately and missing the way your eyes widen at the tenting fabric of his jeans. He pulls you higher up to sit on his lower tummy. 
You squeak out a little gasp as he adjusts you, and fuck it makes the pulsing between his legs even worse. He releases you, bringing his hands back to his sides. 
“Comfortable?” you whisper. You try so hard not to use your voice, worried that it’ll reveal just how turned on you are by this situation you’ve put yourself in. He gives you a single nod, and with that, you lean to grab more lotion. 
The angle you are at forces you to lean the front of your body onto Joel to be able to reach his shoulders. You can feel his body tense underneath you; you can hear his labored breathing as your hands further push away his flannel, working away at each knot. 
You lean forward further, giving yourself the ability to reach just below Joel’s neck. With this action, your hips shift, pressing down against Joel’s belly in a way that sends a sudden jolt of butterflies through your core. Your hands freeze in their movement, breath and fingertips stuttering as your entire face and neck heat up. You sneak a quick glance to Joel, and his eyes are still relaxed. He didn’t notice. 
It takes you a moment to start your movements back up again, but when you do, you can’t help the way you repeat exactly what you did before — allowing yourself another experimental roll of your hips against his soft abdomen. Only this time, you’re way less sly, for the whimper of pleasure you thought you could hide slips right out, right for his sharp ears to take note of. Shit. 
“Y’ alright there?” His eyes are trained on you now; he knows what you just did. Joel sports a quirked eyebrow as he waits for your response. 
“Mhm,” you rush out, ignoring his piercing gaze. 
It takes every ounce of willpower for you to run over the knots in his shoulder again without driving your hips into him, but even the push and pull of your arms is a full body movement, and you feel it. You feel the growing wetness in your core, the growing heartbeat that his bare tummy no doubt can feel now. 
Your body is splayed across him, the warmth of you leaking through your bottoms and onto his hot skin as you pathetically try to play off the fact that you aren’t grinding your wet cunt across him right now. With a rasp of your name, he takes a sharp breath in. “What are ya doin’?” He grunts, pained. Conflicted. 
This is so wrong. But it feels so good. Your arousal — how utterly desperate you are for the older man underneath you — is shone all over your face, brighter than any other feeling of disgust or wrongness you’re trying to convince yourself of. But the internal battle is still there, though, and it forces your hips to come to a full stop. It forces cries of apologies from your lips. It forces regret. 
“I- I’m sorry,” you choke back a sob. “Please, I- this is so wrong, I’m so stupid, uncle, I-” 
God damn it. Joel is too damn hard to deal with this shit now. “Oh, Jesus Christ, will you cut the fuckin’ uncle bullshit?” He finally snaps. His hands spring to life, finding their way up your thighs, tightening once they reach your hips. He forces you to move again. “Ya think I wanna hear that fuckin’ word while you fuckin’ soak me? Huh? While ya rub on me like a fuckin’ bitch in heat?”
“Shit,” you moan, the strength of his hand making the assault against your mound all the more intense. “Joel, please,” you cry, your fingers shaking as you hold onto his chest. 
Your thighs begin to tremble as he maintains a rough pace to your movements, his bed creaking with every shove of your hips against him. His grip on you is one of steel, the pads of his fingers digging into your flesh, no doubt leaving tiny bruises as a reminder of today’s actions. 
He is fucking covered in you — the slick of your desire pooling through your bottoms and into his skin, making each grind smoother. He licks his lips at this, his eyes dark as he drinks you in from above; your own eyes glossy and a sheen of sweat along your skin. “Look at ya, darlin’,” he murmurs, voice low enough to send a fresh wave of arousal pouring from your hole. “Fuckin’ soakin’ me, baby. Needed me that bad, did ya? Was tryin’ t’ tell ya earlier,” he grunts, “Y’know ya just had to ask.” A lazy smirk pulls across his lip. 
You let out a whimper at his words, your hips finally rolling alongside his own guidance, instinctively searching for more friction. “Atta girl,” he groans, “That’s it, fuck- makin’ a fuckin’ mess a’ me, darlin’.” 
You’re panting now, the rhythm and pressure mixed with the filth of his Southern drawl ignites every single nerve ending throughout your body. He watches you with a dark intensity, the brown of his eyes replaced with pure black lust, his eyes unable to stray away from the pleasurable desperation filling your features. 
“Gonna come like this, sweetheart?” He taunts, driving you into him even harder. 
“Mmm- my God, yeah- yes,” you cry out, eyes rolling back as the coil in your belly finally tightens, your breathing ragged as needy moans escape your lips. 
With a final roll of your hips and the utterance of a that’s my girl, the coil finally snaps, pleasure crashing over you, coursing through your veins as you come all over him, your slick unable to stay within the limits of your clothes, leaking and dripping down the sides of him and onto the mattress below. Your thighs convulse around his waist, his hold on you continuing your thrusts, dragging out your orgasm until your own hands find his and rip him away from you.
“Ya ain’t done yet, sugar,” Joel gruffs, grabbing the globes of your ass cheeks and dragging you down, letting you feel his ignored and now raging erection. 
“Never said I was,” you purr, a soft moan blessing his ears at the feel of his bulge against your ass. He can feel your smirk against his chest. 
Body still trembling, Joel lifts your ass in the air, sliding your bottoms down over the curve of your body. The stickiness of your panties pulls off with a wet squelch, the cool air of the room mingling with the wet warmth of your bare pussy, the stark contrast forcing chills to run through your veins. 
“God,” he murmurs as you give a little wiggle of your ass in the air. “Pretty as a peach, huh, darlin’?” He guides you lower, pushing you down onto his bulge. The hardness of him beneath you immediately sends a fiery need to your core. Your hands move on their own as you pull your body up, reaching for the buttons and zipper of his jeans, undoing them with ease despite the eager shake of your hand. You pull the jeans down just enough to let his cock spring free, thick and angry and leaking. 
“Oh, fuck,” you swallow your gasp. “God, I need you so bad,” you whine, already lifting up to line the tip of him to your swollen cunt. 
You sink down with a breathless moan, your head flying back as your hands grip onto his tummy to keep you from buckling. 
Joel’s breathing stutters, his moans filling the air as you practically choke his cock. “Shit- so fuckin- fuckin’ tight.” His hands find their home on the meat of your ass, holding you tight, grounding himself from coming like a damn teenager.
You move slowly at first, savoring the way he feels inside of you, how big he is. God, you don’t think you’ve ever taken anything quite as long and as thick as him. Your heart skips a beat at that, knowing that he’s ruined you for anyone else. 
It isn’t long before the raw need takes over, and you move faster, hips rolling back and forth as you ride him, the wet sound of skin against skin as you alternate to a bounce ever so often. 
Despite the risk of hurting his back even more, he can’t stop himself from gripping you tighter, his nails digging into your flesh as his hips buck up into you, starting their own rhythm, meeting every one of your thrusts. The sensation is overwhelming with the size of him; it’s a perfect mix of pleasure and pain, mixing sweet whines of ecstasy with whines of overstimulation, and it’s the best music to have ever graced his ears. 
“Look at ya,” he grunts. “Fuckin’ made for this, weren’t ya? Fuckin’ made for takin’ this cock, huh, sweetheart?” 
You nod weakly at his words. They send a flutter down your belly to your pussy, and his mouth is all it takes to send you to your second brink of collapse — your heart beating rapidly in your chest as you move, as he drives himself into you without abandon. 
Every thrust pushes you further to the edge, the sting of the stretch, the sensation of being so full — it’s almost too much to bear. He can hear it in the way your cries change. It’s becoming too much. 
“Y’ can take it, sweetheart, almost there,” he grunts. His hands take over in guiding your movements, urging you faster, harder, bringing you both to the cliff’s edge. 
“C’mon, baby, can feel her squeezin’ me, know she wanna come, baby. Breathe, doll, jus’ let go,” he rasps, his words coming in staggered.
The wet tightness of your walls, both the feel and the sound, causes Joel to fall first — a low, guttural groan filling the room as he fills you with his hot, thick spend.
The sensation of him pulsing inside you, unloading everything he’s worth, sends you over your edge, your pussy clenching around his cock as you come, the sensation rippling through you, shredding your vocal cords as you scream out in pleasure. 
Everything goes dark for you, nothing but the fuzzy sound of Joel’s sweet praises at the top of your head as he guides you through your come down. 
“Did so fuckin’ good f’ me, darlin’,” he murmurs. “Sweet girl.”
For an asshole, who knew he could be so sweet? 
You roll off of Joel as soon as your heart steadies, your entire body on fire from all the exertion. You can feel Joel’s body stiffen as you use him for support. His back is killing him right now.
A few moments pass as your eyes slowly start to close, but the deep gruff of your name stops you from dozing. 
You turn your head to the man beside you. “Yes?” 
For the first time today, it’s Joel who can’t make eye contact with you. “Can you, uh… can you-” he clears his throat, trying to rid himself of his awkwardness. “Can you warm up the heat pack again?” 
Your smirk lifts your cheek before you can even try to stop it. “Come again?” 
He lets out a frustrated huff. And he can’t turn away from you. His back is killing him right now. “My back-”
“Yeah, what about your back?” 
“You fuckin’ little shit-”
You giggle as you flip onto your side, your hand holding your head up to get a better look at him. “Your back is hurting, baby? Need me to get the heat pack for you, hm?” 
He doesn’t respond. He just has the deepest, most grumpiest scowl known to man on display. 
“Oh, come on. You need my help, is that it? Need to hear you say it, unc.” You emphasize the last syllable of your sentence, a belly laugh threatening to escape you. 
Oh, two can play at that game. “Yeah, baby, I need your help. I need the help from my beautiful, beautiful niece, hm? My beautiful, needy niece whose pussy gets all soaked jus’ thinkin’ ‘bout me, huh? Gets all wet and needy thinkin’ ‘bout her uncle-”
Your resolve finally snaps, your eyes clamping shut as you cover your ears, loud la la la’s coming from your mouth as you ungraciously roll yourself off of his bed. “Enough, fine! Fine! Fuckin’ nasty,” you groan as you make your way to the kitchen. 
“‘M not the one who started it, sweetheart,” Joel says, a triumphant smile plastered across his cocky face. 
“I made you cookies by the way,” you yell after a beat. “Want one?” 
Joel’s hand reaches for his belly. He doesn’t need one, that’s for sure. “Yeah,” he responds not a second later. 
You come back to his bedroom, heat pack in one hand, no cookie in the other. You hand him the heat pack. You make him adjust it himself. 
“Where’s the cookie?” He asks, a tinge of impatience on his tongue. 
“Oh, I thought you were gonna come down and get it.” 
He looks at you incredulously. 
“I just figured you wanted to start being more independent and all. Given how strenuous you were being a few moments ago,” you offer with a faux innocence.  
“I swear to fuckin’ God, when I get my hands on you-”
“Your hands on me? Yeah? When?” You start making your way out of his bedroom. “Come get me if you wanna show me a lesson. Know you been dying to all week.” 
If he can fuck you the way he did, maybe full-time bed rest isn’t what Joel needs. He needs to stretch and move around; he needs to activate his muscles, especially being on the older side. It really is basic biology.
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I would absolutely love to hear what you guys thought of this! Any and all your love and commentary truly keeps me going and motivated even when the writer’s block is at its strongest. Wouldn’t be here without you all. I have so much love in my heart for you! Talk to y’all soon🩶
I cannot get myself to write for Joel or for TLOU without mentioning the horrors occurring in Palestine. Please check out the links in my navigation + bio to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.
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xosannie · 24 days
Text
Dirty Little Secret
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☆Genre: Smut MDNI 18+ only
☆Pairing: sex worker!mingi x afab!reader (best friends to ??)
☆Word count: 7.6k
☆Warnings: Porn, eye contact, praising, oral/face sitting (f receiving), use of sex toys (m receiving), reader records Mingi masturbate, dirty talk, begging, Mingi is pretty soft, fingering (f receiving), you’re both desperate, reader is easily flustered and Mingi is a tease (let me know if I missed any)
☆Summary: Your best friend Mingi stays the night at your place after not seeing each other in a while. When he abandons his phone you decide to play on it, the last thing you were expecting to find was his secret porn account.
—————————————————————————
After a nice shower, you’re lying in bed watching the show you’ve been binge-watching for days. Suddenly, you feel your phone vibrate beside you, getting a text from Mingi.
Loser (Mingi): Yo, I’m here >:)
A smile grew on your face, jumping out of bed and running toward the door. When you swing the door open, you’re met with a smiling Mingi, his sleepover bag in one hand, his other resting on the top of the doorframe.
“Wassup bitch!” You exclaim.
Mingi smiles wide, pulling you in for a hug, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as your hands wrap around his waist. You swear he grew taller from the last time you saw him. 
You and Mingi haven’t been able to hang out much anymore. With your different jobs, your schedules just don’t align. Adult life is lame. Sometimes you wish you could go back to your teenage years, when you both hung out practically every day. After school, during lunch, whenever you wanted. But here you are; you have your own apartment, car, and job, but life is still boring when you can’t see your best friend much.
“Hello to you too,” he giggles.
When you pull away, Mingi steps inside, sliding his shoes off and putting his keys down on the table.
“Oh my god, I’m so excited! When was the last time we had a sleepover? It feels like ages.”
Mingi runs his hands through his short blonde hair, thinking to himself to recall the last sleepover, letting out a sigh. 
“Damn, I don’t even remember.”
His hand dropped to his side, and you watched as his black and white beaded bracelet swung around his wrist. You look down at your matching one on your wrist and smile softly. 
“Aw, you still wear this?”
You reach over, toying with the beads on Mingi’s wrist. This was a bracelet you made for Mingi years ago, and you decided to make a matching one for yourself. It was basically a friendship bracelet, but Mingi never liked calling it that; he thought it was too cringeworthy. (You know he secretly likes it, though.)
“Of course I do; I never take it off.” 
You both make your way to the bedroom. Mingi drops his bag down on the bed, and you plop down on the mattress. He unzips his bag, digging through to pick out his sleeping clothes.
“Before I get settled, I want to shower; I just got out of the gym not too long ago.”
“Is that why you’re dressed like Adam Sandler?”
Mingi snaps his head up, glaring at you with narrow eyes, fighting back a smile.
“What is that supposed to mean?” 
You giggle at his reactions, looking him up and down with a feigned disgust.
“Oh honey, you’re wearing shorts, a baggy tee, and flip-flops. If that’s not an Adam Sandler fit, I don’t know what is.”
Mingi rolls his eyes at your comment, secretly thinking it was funny, but he wouldn’t let you know that. Your ego is already too big. He grabs his clothes and washbag, heading toward the conjoined bathroom in your bedroom. 
“I’m going to ignore you and shower.”
Mingi stops in his tracks, pulling his phone out of his pocket to hand it to you. 
“Oh, before I go, can you charge my phone?”
You grab it, still laughing softly to yourself, and plug it in the charger. 
“I got you; now go shower you smelly boy.” 
Mingi chuckles and walks off into the bathroom. 
A few minutes later, you hear the shower running, and you’re laying back in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Mingi was only gone for a minute, and you were already bored. You let out a sigh, looking around the room to find something to entertain you. You peek over at the bedside table, glancing at Mingi’s phone.
You grab the phone, laughing to yourself. You used to do this thing whenever Mingi left his phone around: take a bunch of funny photos of yourself and set them as his lock screen. You liked to see his reactions when he finds the photos, and sometimes he would keep it on his phone screen for a long time. You haven’t done it in a while, so why not do it again? It was a harmless prank that always made you two laugh. 
You turn on his phone, the screen shining brightly on your face, almost blinding you. His lock screen was a picture of an anime character from Chainsaw Man. ‘What a dweeb’ you thought to yourself. You put in his passcode, letting out a little victory chuckle when it let you in. Although your laugh immediately died down when your eyes met with a random Twitter account. That’s weird; you follow Mingi on all social media platforms, but you’ve never seen this one. 
You furrow your brows in confusion, Sir Min, the username read. What was this account? And why was Mingi looking at it? Clearly he was just on it; the app loaded up right as you turned on the phone. You read the bio, and your heart pounded.
‘18+ NSFW These videos and pics all belong to me. If you like what you see, sub to my OF;)’
What? 
You spring up, hunching over with the phone inches away from your face. You heard the pounding of your heart in your ears; you were frozen, blankly staring at the words on the screen. There was a voice in your head telling you to stop; this felt like something you shouldn’t be seeing. You should really turn Mingi’s phone off and put it away, out of sight, out of mind. 
Yeah, you definitely should put the phone down... but your curiosity got the best of you. Your trembling thumb slowly scrolled down the page. Your heart dropped when you saw the first video. 
A man sat back in a chair; you were unable to see his face; only his neck down was in view. His sweats were pulled down to his midthigh, and his shirt was hitched up, exposing his soft stomach. Your mouth grew dry when you noticed the way he was teasingly stroking his dick, occasionally slapping it against his abdomen. You watched in awe as a string of spit ran down into view and landed on his pink tip. 
What. The. Fuck. 
You watched the way his black and white beaded bracelet bounced on his wrist as he stroked his (fairly big) cock. Your breath hitched, and you were ashamed when you felt a pant of arousal rush through your body. Your stomach churned when you realized the man on the screen wasn’t just any man; it was Mingi. 
You were so engrossed in the video in front of you that you failed to notice the trickling of the shower ceased. The sound of jiggling from the bathroom doorknob brought you back to your senses, and you immediately turned off the phone and threw it on the bed. 
Mingi walked out of the bathroom, ruffling his hair with the towel to dry it off. You laid back, grabbing your own phone to look as casual as possible. 
“I feel so much better now.”
Mingi sighed, throwing the towel on a chair in the corner of the room. He looked at you with a small smile, placing his hands on his hips. You’re heart was still racing, and you had to stop your eye’s from wandering down at Mingi’s topless body. His sweats hung low on his hips, and Calvin Klein underwear peaked at the top.
“About time, I almost died of boredom.”
You sit up, internally patting yourself on the back for sounding so nonchalant. Mingi chuckled and crawled in bed beside you. 
“So what do you want to do?” 
You stared at Mingi as he grew closer to you, subconsciously scooting away a bit. It was a little change in demeanor, but Mingi noticed it right away. He decided not to think too much about it, and he leaned in closer.
“You’re not going to put on a shirt?” 
Your tone was a bit more nervous than you anticipated. Mingi looked down at his topless body and shrugged.
“It never bothered you before.”
He reached over, grabbing the remote to scroll through the TV. He’s right, it never has before, so why does it bother you now? You sit back against the headboard, staring at the TV screen. You’re mind kept thinking back at the video; you definitely shouldn’t have seen it... but why are you a bit disappointed you couldn’t see more?
You never thought Mingi would be the type to sell nudes for money. You knew there was a lot of catching up to do, but you certainly weren’t expecting that. 
“Oh my god, I love this movie. Have you seen it?” 
Mingi turns to you, his eyes bright with excitement. You couldn’t seem to stare at him; your gaze stayed on the TV.
“Oh, no, I haven’t. We can watch it.”
“Yes! Okay, I think you’ll like this one a lot; it’s hilarious.”
Mingi smiles wide and plays the movie. He lays back in the bed, turning toward your direction to lay his head on the pillow beside you. His hair tickled your arm, and your body grew hot when you felt his leg entangle in yours. You sit up abruptly, and Mingi looks up at you confused.
“I have to use the restroom. I’ll be back.”
“Ok… Don’t take too long, though. I know you just sit on the toilet watching Tik Toks.” 
You roll your eyes and chuck a pillow at him. Mingi giggles while blocking your attack. You walked into the bathroom, trying to act as casual as possible. When the door closes behind you, you press yourself back against the wall, trying to comprehend everything.
Why hasn’t Mingi told you about this? 
How long has he been doing it for? 
Why did it turn you on? 
All these questions raced in your head. You hate how you’re acting right now. I mean, Mingi is a grown man; he can do this type of work if he wanted to. You never cared when you found out other people were interested in sex work. So why are you reacting this way when it comes to Mingi?
After you pulled yourself together, you stepped out of the bathroom. Mingi laid in your bed, head resting on his hand as he watched the movie. You sat down beside Mingi, keeping a little distance from him.
“Welcome back.”
He smiled, noticing the way you sat a bit farther, furrowing his brows in confusion.
“I don’t have some kind of disease; come over here.”
Mingi reached over, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer. You gasp loudly, feeling your core ache again at the way he can easily manhandle you. You mentally curse yourself for reacting that way. 
It’s not unusual to be clingy with Mingi; you both do it all the time, but for some reason every time he touched you, you couldn’t stop thinking about how it would feel to have his hands touch other places.
You let out an awkward chuckle when Mingi snuggled his head in your lap; you’re body tensed when feeling how close he was. You couldn’t believe yourself; you’re really thinking dirty thoughts about your best friend, who is innocently snuggled into you.
The whole time you guys were lounging and watching the movie, you couldn’t seem to relax. Your hands stayed glued to your sides, and you keep getting lost in thought, not paying attention to the film at all.
Your unnatural behavior didn’t go unnoticed by Mingi. He tried to let it slide the first time, but when he saw that your body wasn’t relaxed and you weren’t playing with his hair like you usually do, he let out a sigh. He sat up, pausing the movie and turning to you with a suspicious look.
“Okay, what’s your problem?” 
Your head jerked in Mingi’s direction, not expecting him to ask that. You try to find words, mouth opening and closing like a fish. 
“What do you mean?” 
Mingi stares at you with a knowing glance and a small frown. 
“You’re acting weird. It’s like you’re scared of me or something. You won’t relax; you’re hardly talking to me, and you won’t even touch me.”
Your heart aches at his words; you were so shaken by what you saw on Mingi’s phone that you subconsciously started to treat him weirdly. You thought for a moment, debating whether to come clean or pretend like nothing happened.
Mingi stared at you intently, waiting for an answer. You can see the slight worry in his eyes. You already knew he was starting to feel a bit insecure by the look on his face. You let out a small sigh.
"No, Mingi, you didn’t do anything wrong to get me upset.”
“How did you know that’s what I was thinking?”
“You’re making that sad puppy face.” 
Mingi smiled softly at your words, looking away as you both chuckled. He felt a small pang of relief but was still worried, wanting to know what’s wrong.
“Then what’s wrong?”
He scooted closer, wanting to wrap his arm around your shoulder, but based on your behavior earlier, he kept his hands to himself. 
You decided to give in; fuck it, just tell him the truth. You take in a breath before speaking in a shaky tone.
“Well, when you were in the shower. I wanted to mess with you, so I took your phone, and when I turned it on..."
Your voice drifted off. Mingi waited patiently to hear you out. Soon he came to realize what you saw; his heart dropped and his eyes widen.
“Oh-“
You turn away feeling embarrassed; you didn’t want to look Mingi in the eyes. You felt so bad; how could you invade his privacy like that?
“I’m sorry; I swear I didn’t mean to see that. I just wanted to take funny photos of myself on your phone. The app was already open when I turned it on.”
Mingi lets out a small chuckle at your nervous rambling. The noise caused you to relax a bit, knowing he wasn’t angry.
“I’m sorry..” 
You say quietly, looking like a sad puppy with its ears flopped down. Mingi coos internally at your expression, ruffling your hair.
“It’s okay”
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding in, leaning back against the headboard and hiding your face in your hands. 
“Did you see anything?”
You can hear the slight shyness hiding under his attempt to sound confident. You paused for a moment, thinking back at the video you watched, and nodded slowly.
Mingi nervously chuckles at your response, trying to sound cocky and playful to lift the mood.
“Did you like what you saw?” 
You sat there in silence, your face heating up behind your hands at his question. Your silence was all Mingi needed to know the answer; he raised his brows and his heart quickened. He mostly said that as a joke, but seeing your reaction ignited a fire in him. 
“Oh…..oh. What video did you watch?”
He smirked, scooting a bit closer. You nudged Mingi away, rolling your eyes at his teasing behavior. 
“Fuck off, Mingi. I already have the sight of your dick in my head. I don’t need to hear your sexy voice.”
Mingi smiles wide, liking the reaction you’re having. To be frank, Mingi was embarrassed at first when you revealed that you saw his secret porn account. Although after seeing your reaction, he has a newfound confidence coursing through him. 
"No, no, just tell me. Which video was it?”
You glared at him wanting to smack the smirk off his smug face (or kiss it off, but let’s not get needy). You roll your eyes, knowing Mingi wasn’t going to let this go.
“It was...the one of you.”
You moved your fist up and down, not being able to say it out loud. You couldn’t meet his gaze; you didn’t have to see his face to know he was smirking wide.
“Oh that? That’s a popular one of mine.”
“Ugh, Mingi I don’t need to know what gets your fucking fans all horned up.”
You groan, pushing Mingi away. He laughs softly, noticing the small blush creeping up in your cheeks.
"Aw, come on, I know you liked it.”
It’s not unusual for Mingi to talk to you in a teasing, flirty tone. It never used to phase you, but something about this situation in particular makes you ache between your legs. 
You roll your eyes, plopping down on the bed, and cover yourself with the blanket. Mingi chuckled as he watched you hide away. You spoke back in a muffled voice.
“I’m going to bed, freak.”
He patted you on the back, still laughing softly, and turned off the light.
“Good night; try not to have any wet dreams of me.”
You kicked him under the covers; he let out a small groan and forced yourself to sleep. Embarrassing to say... you do in fact have a wet dream of Mingi that night. Not your proudest moments, but you’re only human. 
————————————————————————
Weeks have past since that night. It almost felt like you two grew even closer after finding out Mingi’s big secret. After that night of the sleepover, you both had a deep talk about why Mingi entered this line of work in the first place. 
He explained to you how he was struggling with money and his own body image. At first he didn’t want to resort to that kind of work, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Once he uploaded his first video, he grew an audience pretty quickly; that’s when he learned that he liked making content more than he thought he would. 
It taught him how to appreciate his body and his own pleasure, and after meeting new people in the same kind of work, he realized that he wasn’t alone in his struggles. Also, the amount of money that comes in was very nice; who could complain? 
After he opened up to you, you had a different view on the situation at hand. Knowing the reason for everything, you grew to admire Mingi more, and it never bothered you when he would speak about his "films." He would even ask you for advice or requests on what he should post next. 
What you weren’t proud of, though, was the late nights you spent staring up at your ceiling. Phone in hand, the Twitter search tab open as you fight the urge to search his account again. The amount of times you made yourself cum while watching Mingi fuck a flesh light was embarrassing to say out loud. 
You were on your way to Mingi’s house, a grocery bag of snacks in your hand. You parked in front of his house, pulling out your phone to text him. 
You: “Aye loser, I’m here.”
You gather your belongings, stepping out of the car and walking to his front door. You didn’t get a reply, which was weird. You glanced down at your phone, waiting to see the three dots to indicate he was typing. When they don’t appear, you shoot another text.
You: "I said I’m here 💀"
No reply; that’s weird. 
You jiggle the front door knob only to find it was unlocked all along. Usually when he leaves it that way, he expects you to just walk in, and that you do. 
When you stepped into the living room, it was vacant; there weren’t any games set up for you two on the table. You furrow your brows in confusion and set your bags down, slipping off your shoes.
“Mingi?”
You hear a thump noise coming from his bedroom, and your heart drops. What was that? It sounded like something falling. Without a second thought, you rushed to his bedroom, afraid that maybe he fell to the ground or something like that.
You hear a small groan of annoyance coming from his room; you barged in no hesitation and immediately froze when you saw him. 
Mingi stood at the edge of his bed, pants down and very hard; his tripod lay broken on the floor. When Mingi looked up at you, he frozen for a second, rummaging behind him to pick up a pillow and cover himself up. You quickly shut the door in your own face, walking away from his room. 
Once you reach the front door, ready to drop everything and leave because WHAT THE FUCK MINGI WAS FILMING A PORNO, you hear his bedroom door open and he runs toward you.
“Wait y/n, don’t...”
You stop in your tracks, turning around slowly when you feel Mingi’s hand grasp your shoulder. He was wearing black sweats and nothing else. His cheeks were flushed red, and he was out of breath.
“I’m sorry, Mingi; I texted you but you didn’t answer. The door was unlocked, so I came in, then I heard this sound and thought maybe you were hurt.” 
“Y/n, you’re rambling again.”
You shut your mouth, looking away from Mingi. He chuckled softly, moving his hand from your shoulder to his waist.
"Sorry, I didn’t see your message. I thought you would have taken longer to get here, and I needed to film a video.”
You scratch the back of your neck; it took every ounce in you not to look down at his large bulge in his sweats. You clear your throat, feeling awkward and bad for just barging in the way you did. 
“Do you, um, want me to go? so you can..you know.” 
You gestured toward his bulge, trying to maintain eye contact but failing. He looked down, a blush creeping on his cheeks, before covering himself with his hand. 
"Um, I would, but that thump you heard was my tripod falling and breaking into bits, so...”
“Oh, I mean, do you really need that? Just prop it down on the table or something.”
“I can't; it doesn’t get the right angle.”
You roll your eyes at his remarks, scoffing.
“You’re being picky; just put your phone down and jerk it, not that hard.”
Mingi laughs at your words, the tension in the room lifting. Your body finally starts to relax, and you can tell Mingi was feeling the same way. 
“It’s not that easy; when I put my phone on the table, the lighting looks all weird. I want to make good videos for my viewers; that way I get more money.”
He rubs his thumb and index finger together. You smile at him, finding his care for quality videos strangely endearing. 
“Let me see.”
He takes you to his room; when you enter, you see the broken tripod. It was snapped in half on the floor; there was no fixing it. 
“I mean, do you have tape?”
“No.”
You stroke your chin, thinking on how to help this situation.
“Just get a new one; do you really need to film a video now?”
“Yeah, this isn’t just any video; it’s a commission. I need to film it, or else the buyer would be upset.”
You both ponder for a moment; you wanted to help but didn’t know how. Suddenly Mingi looks over at you, a look in his eyes that you couldn’t pin point.
“What if…you film me?”
Your eyes widen, and your head snaps toward his direction. 
“What!?”
Mingi walks closer to you, grabbing your hands with a pleading look.
"Oh, come on, y/n, I need to film this video. You’re my best friend, and I need your help; besides, you’ve already seen my dick!” 
You stood there, mouth open, unable to form words. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, and your ears heated up. You scoff at Mingi, looking away, not wanting him to see the small blush on your cheeks.
He keeps trying to meet your gaze, eyes desperate and pleading.
“Please? I’m not going to make you do this if you’re uncomfortable, but please consider. Help your bestie make a bag.” 
You laugh softly at his words, looking into his eyes; it was hard to deny that look. After a moment of silence, you thought, Fuck it. Mingi needed your help; you knew you were the only one who could help in this way (totally wasn’t because you secretly wanted to see Mingi touch himself). 
“Fine, okay,” you sighed.
Mingi smiles wide, pulling you in for a hug.
“Thank you! Okay, all you have to do is stand here and record me. Pretty simple.”
Mingi walked your body to the edge of the bed, wanting you to stay there. He gives you his phone after opening the camera app and looks at you excitedly. You couldn’t help but think how cute Mingi looked right now. (Despite the fact that he was going to whip it out in a few seconds.)
“Wait, before I do this, you better promise that we will pretend like nothing happened and move on. Don’t think I’ll be your camerawoman from now on, just this once.” 
“Okay, I promise.” Mingi chuckles.
You let out a sigh, holding up the camera to point it at the bed. 
“Hurry before I change my mind," you huff. 
Mingi scurries on the bed, sitting at the edge. He grips the waistband of his sweats, hesitating for a moment.
“Make sure not to get my face. Wait, sit down. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
You roll your eyes, grabbing the chair beside you to take a seat. You were now at eye level with Mingi, sitting a foot away from him. After you take a deep breath, you press record.
“Ok go.”
Mingi moves when he hears the ding of the camera, indicating that you started recording. He reached behind him to grab something; your heart dropped when you saw what it was. 
His flesh light. 
He begins to speak, talking to the person who you presume bought this specific video as a commission. He stands up, rubbing his bulge through his sweats. You gulp, trying not to let your trembling hands mess up the video. 
You look up, locking eyes with him. Mingi twitched in his pants, biting his lip and letting out a small groan. You quickly tore your gaze away, staring at the screen in front of you. 
You swore you saw a hint of a blush creeping on Mingi’s cheeks when you both locked eyes. You watched as his hands ran up his hips, gripping the waistband of his sweats to pull them down slowly. You breathe hitched when his big dick sprung up and slapped his lower abdomen.
You swear you’ve never seen him that hard; from all the videos you (secretly) watched of him, you never saw him like this. His tip was red, leaking cum; a long vein ran down the side of his length. You subconsciously squeeze your thighs together, feeling yourself throb between your legs.
That didn’t go unnoticed by Mingi; damn him, why was he so observant? He chuckled softly, taking his cock in his hands and stroking it at a slow, teasing pace.
“You want it?”
For a second, you thought he was talking to you, but you figured he was probably just speaking sexy for the video. He tends to do that a lot (I mean, how would you know that?haha...). 
Mingi sat back down on the bed, slowly stroking his dick and moaning quietly. He reached behind him to grab some lube, lathering it on his length. 
Your mouth watered at the sight. God, he looked so good. You wish you could just drop the phone and take his large dick in your mouth. Then he wouldn’t need the lube.
Your try to shake away the thought, keeping a neutral face as you held the phone in front of you. You watch as Mingi bites his lip, taking the flesh light and aligning his length with it. He slowly pushed the toy down, letting out a low moan. 
You had to bite your lip to hold back the noises that threatened to escape. Holy fuck, you’re watching Mingi fuck himself right in front of you. Not to mention, it’s turning you on deeply. 
Mingi leans his head back, letting out gasps when he moves the toy up and down. Your stomach churned, you watched the screen intently as his hand moved faster, and you noticed the way his hips buck up slightly.
“Fuck, that’s so good.”
You felt his intense gaze, and when you looked over at him, your eyes locked again. You press your lips together, trying so hard to stay quiet. His brows furrowed as he stared at you, fucking up into the flesh light desperately.
You sat there frozen, as if you were hypnotized by Mingi’s pretty noises and desperate eyes. His gasps grew more harsh, and he quickly pulled the toy off him. He panted while his hard dick twitched uncontrollably.
"Fuck, I almost came already,” he groaned breathlessly. 
You take in a deep breath; the aching of your pussy became more unbearable the more you watched. You tried everything to ease the feeling—crossing your legs, shifting in your seat. You couldn’t help it when your hand reached down to press your fingers against your clit through your leggings. 
Mingi watched your movements, moaning softly and taking his length back in the toy. His eyes glued to your hips as he fucked himself. The squelching from the toy shot straight to your core; you can feel your slick sticking to your underwear. 
“Fuck baby…”
He groans, throwing his head back and moaning. You watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down and his chest heaving. The bed was squeaking from the way Mingi’s hips bounced up and down in the toy. He could feel your eyes on him, and it turned him on more than he thought it would.
“I’m gonna….”
He moaned breathlessly, looking back at you with the prettiest fucked-out face you’ve ever seen.
“I’m gonna come for you.” 
Your heart clenched (and so did your pussy). At this moment, you knew he wasn’t speaking for the video; he was speaking to you. Your hand reached up to cover your mouth as you watched Ming unravel.
His eyes rolled in the back of his head when he ripped the toy off him, taking his cock in his other hands to jerk it off quickly. He whimpered, cursing out loud when his cum shot up, landing on his fist and stomach. You moaned quietly when you watched some of his release land on the beads of the matching bracelet you both wore. 
He sat there for a moment, panting heavily, trying to catch his breath. He chuckled softly, setting the flesh light down and waving at the camera.
“Thank you for buying.” 
You ended the recording, slowing, moving your hands down to stare at Mingi’s tired body. He plopped down on the bed, panting while looking up at the ceiling. You clear your throat, standing up on your trembling legs, setting his phone down on the table. 
“Well….that was…interesting.”
You stand there awkwardly, hands resting in front of you, trying not to look at Mingi, who was sprawled out naked on the bed. He props himself on his elbows after cleaning himself up, laughing while he looked at you.
"Yes, very interesting; that was good.”
You smiled softly, your throbbing pussy didn’t subside, and looking at a fucked-out smiling Mingi didn’t help. You noticed the way Mingi’s eyes ran up and down your body. 
“Do you think it was good?” He asked.
You bit your lip, walking closer.
"Yeah, it was good; you looked really hot.”
Mingi smirked at you, biting his lip. He sits up, reaching forward to grab your hips. You gasped when you felt him pull you closer. 
“I can tell you enjoyed it; I noticed the way you wanted to touch yourself. And the look on your face... you looked so cute.”
You blushed at his words; you already felt embarrassment creep up from the way you acted. You groaned, looking away and holding onto Mingi’s shoulders.
“Ugh, stop teasing me. It’s not my fault; you looked so….sexy.”
Mingi smirked up at you; the look in his eyes caused your body to shudder in desire. He gripped your hips harder, hands running down to grip your thighs.
“Oh yeah? I was sexy?”
"Mingi, don’t do that.”
Mingi cocked his head to the side, looking up at you with wide eyes.
“Don’t do what?”
“Don’t talk to me like you want to fuck me. I won’t be able to control myself.” 
“Then don’t; let me make you feel good.”
You reach up, cupping his face while you look down at him. You knew deep down you shouldn’t do this with Mingi, but damn it, you both already crossed so many lines. Besides, you were desperately horny, and fuck Mingi looked so hot right now. 
You pushed Mingi down on the bed, crawling on top of him while you smashed your lips together. You felt him smirk in the kiss, and his hands reached to grip your waist. The kiss was hungry and needy, tongues darting out to entangle in each other's mouth. 
You couldn’t think about how you were acting in this moment because you didn’t care. You sat up, ripping your shirt off your body, Mingi’s hands instinctively running up to grasp your breasts through your bra. He smiled up at you, and you reached down to stroke his face.
“You looked so unbelievably sexy, Mingi. I can’t take it anymore. I need you to fuck me.”
Mingi chuckles, pulling you down to kiss you again; his hand makes its way in your leggings. His finger grazing your wet panties, he groans in the kiss, pulling away to look down at your hips. You feel his fingers push the fabric of your soiled panties to the side, dipping his finger in your folds. He gasps softly, looking up at you with furrowed brows, his jaw going slack. 
“Fuck baby, you’re already so wet. Did I do this to you?” 
You nod your head eagerly, rocking your hips to grind against Mingi’s fingers. He moans quietly at your reaction, feeling a sense of pride for having that kind of effect on you. 
He circles your clit, pressing down while watching your every expression.
There’s that look again—the same look Mingi gave you while you recorded him. You subconsciously rock your hips faster, getting lost in Mingi’s brown eyes. You whine, wanting to feel more; the slow circling of Mingi’s fingers on your clit wasn’t enough. 
“Baby, please take my pants off. I need to feel more of you.”
Mingi has never seen this side of you, desperate and pleading. He can already feel himself getting hard again, dick twitching when you begged for him.
“Oh god, don’t you worry, baby, I’ll make you feel good.”
He pulled off your leggings and panties; you kicked them off, pushing them to the side. Mingi took in your naked body, staring hungrily at you. His grip on your hips was tight, and the warmth of your pussy hovering over his hard length caused him to shudder in delight.
“Baby, before I fuck you, I need to taste you; fuck please,” he begged.
You whimper at his words, nodding eagerly and moving your body up till you straddled his face. Mingi held on tightly to your thighs, pulling you down. He did not hesitate to stick his tongue out, eagerly licking up your wetness. 
You gasp at the feeling, not fully preparing yourself for the sensation. You entangle your fingers in his short blonde hair, throwing your head back and moaning his name. He groaned the second he had the taste of your pussy on his tongue. Licking slow strips up and down your cunt, he dug his nails in your skin, needing to feel you as close as possible. 
You moaned when you felt his tongue dip in your hole, slurping up all your juices. His long nose bumped against your clit; you couldn’t help but ride his face grinding against him. 
This is something you’ve always fantasized about, sitting on Mingi’s nose while he sucked at your wet pussy. You felt like you were in a state of euphoria, moaning and whining loudly; occasionally Mingi would grunt against your pussy as well. God, you loved the sound—the sounds of his moans and the lewd slurping filling up the room. 
You looked down at him, whimpering when you saw he was already looking up at you. You felt him smile against your core; he shook his head side to side to cause more friction on your clit with the tip of his nose. He licked up, taking your bundle of nerves in his mouth and sucking, massaging the bud with his tongue. 
Your legs trembled around his head, and you pulled his hair, causing him to moan louder. His hands roamed up your body. Holding your waist to grind your hips again this face. He wanted to feel you, wanted you to smear your pussy all over him, make a mess. 
“Mingi…you are…so good,” you gasped. 
Mingi’s desperation turned you on greatly. He was so eager to please you; it was evident that he was just as needy for you as you were for him. Years and years of tension all let out in this moment right here. 
Embarrassing to admit, you were already feeling your orgasm creep up. You were so lost in the pleasure you didn’t even notice when Mingi’s hand snaked down your hips; the feeling of his finger prodding at your hole made your body tremble.
You fell forward, catching yourself with your hands resting on the mattress above Mingi’s head. His index finger pushed inside you slowly; you tried so hard not to let your arms give out beneath you. Mingi pulled off for a second to chuckle, sliding his finger in and out of you with ease. You whined pathetically and clenched hard around Mingi’s finger. Mingi, push your body up so you could sit up right.
“You wanna lay down, baby?”
His finger continued to move inside you at an agonizing pace, running his hand up and down your stomach soothingly. You couldn’t even form words; all you could do was pout and nod. He smiles at you, cooing at your expression before speaking.
"Aw, look at you; you’re so pretty. Come on, lay down on the bed for me.”
You whined when you felt his finger leave your cunt, making you feel empty. He helped you shift on the bed, laying you back against the soft mattress and crawling over to you. You looked down at Mingi, subconsciously spreading your legs wide as if you were inviting him in. 
He chuckled at the sight, his head immediately dipping down back to pussy. He softly licked your clit,  looking up at you and pushing his fingers back into your hole.
“That’s it, pretty girl; you take my fingers so well.”
You whimper, shyly looking away, feeling more vulnerable under Mingi.
"No, baby, don’t look away. Look at me.”
You felt a wave of need wash over you at his command, snapping your head back down to lock eyes with Mingi.
“Keep looking at me, okay? I want to see your face when I fingerfuck you.”
He entered another finger in you, pushing them in and out of you. The lewd sounds of your wet pussy  squelching were music to Mingi’s ears. He moaned softly, dipping his head down to suck on your clit while he fingered your hole. 
Although Mingi’s mouth and hands felt absolutely amazing, you couldn’t help but feel more needy. You needed more; you needed to feel Mingi inside you. You could scream if you didn’t get to feel Mingi’s dick in you right now.
“Mingi baby, please, I need more. I need... to feel you inside.”
He smirked, replying back in a teasing tone.
“Aw, but I’m already inside.”
“Nooo, you know what I mean.”
You squirm under his touch, whining desperately to stop his teasing.
“Come on, use your words.”
You felt a blush creep up on your face, closing your eyes for a moment and taking in a breath. 
“Please….fuck me. I need to feel your cock inside.”
Mingi’s body ignited at the sight of you begging for him; you looked so desperate; how could he say no to a face like that? 
“Good girl.”
He pulled his fingers out, crawling up your body and smashing his lips on yours. You instinctively reached up, entangling your fingers in his hair. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in impossibly closer.
“You’re so fucking cute when you beg for me,” he grunted.
You could only reply with a whimper, cupping his face to keep his lips on yours. You’ve never felt this desperate before, but there was something about Mingi; you just needed him so badly. You felt his length prod at your entrance. Mingi kissed your cheek softly, then pushed in.
The moan you let out was embarrassingly loud, but you didn’t have enough care in the world to dwell on that. Mingi’s jaw went slack; the feeling of your warm pussy enveloping him was almost enough to make him cum. 
You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer to hide your face in the crook of his neck. You felt Mingi press soft kisses on your skin, letting you adjust to the feeling of his big dick. Once he felt your body relax, he thrust his hips, his dick rubbing against your slick walls.
Your moans muffled in his neck, and your legs trembled against Mingi’s waist. Mingi let out quiet moans in your ear, sucking and biting marks on your neck.
“Is this what you wanted, baby? You wanted to feel my dick pound in you.”
"Yes, baby,” you whine. 
You moan at his words; the feeling of his hard cock thrusting in and out of you made your head reel. You both held each other closely, and you could feel his warm breath on your skin; it all felt so intimate. 
“You’re pussy is so good; you’re so warm.”
“Mingi, I love your dick; please don’t stop fucking me.”
You felt his dick twitch inside you at your praise. He pulled away, adjusting himself so he could kneel in front of you. His hands gripped your hips tightly, and he plowed in you even harder and faster. 
Your eyes rolled in the back of your head, your jaw going slack as silent moans escaped your lips. He moaned at your expression, biting his lip and grunting loud. 
“Look at you, baby; you look like you’re enjoying yourself,” he chuckled breathlessly. 
You reached forward, gripping Mingi’s flexing thigh; you needed to grasp onto something to ground yourself. Your moans grew high-pitched as you clenched around his length. You felt your release approaching quickly; words struggled to form from the way Mingi was fucking you so good.
Mingi threw his head back, moaning; the clenching of your pussy made his stomach churn. 
“So tight,” he whimpered. 
“I’m going…to cum,” you managed to let out. 
Mingi let a wad of spit drip down onto your clit, taking his thumb and gently rubbing the nub in circles while he fucked you. You watched in awe, feeling a pang of desire at the sight. You arched your back, and the way your tits bounced in your bra was too enticing. 
Mingi reached up to push the padding of your bra to the side, letting your breast spill out. Your nipple was now exposed to him, and he leaned down to take it in his mouth. You gasp, holding his head in place as you grind down on his dick. 
“Cum for me, baby, please; cum on my dick, I’m so close.”
That was all you needed to reach your peak. Your moans got stuck in your throat, head throwing back against the pillow as your orgasm coursed through you. Mingi panted heavily, letting out beautiful sounds as he tried so hard not to cum in you.
Mingi’s hips stuttered, pulling out quickly to stroke his dick. It didn’t take long for him to cum for the second time that night. It landed all over your stomach. You lay there, breath heaving, feeling Mingi’s warm seed land on your skin. He caressed your thigh soothingly, moaning softly as he came down from his high.
He plopped down on the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms as he panted against your neck. You both laid there for a moment, trying to comprehend what the fuck just happened. The silence was broken when Mingi let out a small laugh, pulling his head up to look at your face. 
“Didn’t expect our hangout to lead to this... I’m not complaining though.” 
He smiled, cupping your face to stroke your cheek. You covered your face in your arms, reality hitting you like a bus. You laughed, your face erupting in a red tint. 
“Holy fuck Mingi, that was…”
Mingi slowly pulled your arms down, wanting to see your expression. He smiled wide when he saw the blush on your cheeks; he couldn’t help but plant a kiss on your burning flesh.
“Amazing?” He asked, almost hopefully. 
You turned your body to face him, cupping his face; your voice came out softer than intended when you spoke. 
“Yes, it was amazing.” 
Mingi pulled you in to kiss you softly on the lips. You didn’t know what this meant for your friendship, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment with that thought. All you wanted right now was to enjoy his affection, basting in each other’s warmth. 
“You’re sending me that video, by the way.” 
He laughs at your request, nodding in agreement and pulling you in so you could lay on his body. 
“Don’t worry, you’ll be getting a first preview of all the videos I post from now on.” 
~
a/n: Wow this fic took longer than it needed to. I hope you guys enjoy my first official story. I got many great requests for future stories, so keep an eye out for that ;). If you guys possibly want a small part 2 for this one let me know!
update: part 2 posted here ;)
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divinesolas · 3 months
Text
Fighting words
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summary: one of the bracken boys has been hitting on you for days now and youre sick of it. He happens to take it too far with you and your best friend shows you a side of himself you’ve never seen. and you like it. a lot.
Benjicot Blackwood x Fem!Cerwyn!reader | 1.3k wrds
c.w: probably very occ as we dont know like anything abt him in the show 😭😭, slightly smutty, takes place before any battles, not proofread
he wouldn’t leave my mind, so take this 😁
masterlist - requests are open!!
tags: @hxtd
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“No. Leave me alone bracken.” you try to shove him away from you but the bracken boy just grins at you and leans closer into you.
“Oh come on cerwyn, i see how you look at me~” a scoff escapes your lips as you stare at him with disgust. “In your fucking dreams, seriously. Leave me alone.”
You didn’t even know this guys name but he had been bothering you for the last couple days. It had started out small with him trying to invite you to come drink with him and his friends to him offering to carry around your stuff for you when you were walking around.
“theyre arrows bracken.”
“so what? must be heavy for you youre a girl.”
He grossed you out. But didn’t matter even if he didn’t,
“she said no.”
The two of you turn to look at the new voice and a smile creeps up on your face. The bracken boy rolls his eyes as he glares, “the hell do you want blackwood.”
“she said no. Back off.”
youve been friends with the lord of house blackwood for since you were younger and hes always been so kind to you. It seemed to be obvious to everyone other than him that you were madly in love with the young lord but if he did notice he said nothing about it.
You knew of his, angry? or maybe a better word is his more aggressive behavior. You had never even seen it first hand but multiple people have told you first hand accounts of him losing his temper and blowing up, his normal calm and kind demeanor getting lost to rage and blind madness.
You did not know what to think about the rumors then but seeing the way his eyes twitched and his clenched jaw as he stared at the bracken boy the rumors about him became more and more believable.
The bracken boy stands and gets all up in bens face, “What are you gonna do about it huh?”
Ben tilts his head and a look you’ve never seen crosses his eyes as he glares. “Get the fuck out of my sight.” His voice is hard like youve never heard before and it has you holding your breath, waiting for the straining thread to snap.
And the thread snaps the second bracken pushes bens chest and laughs. “what? you upset this ugly bitch wants me more than you-“ It happens before you know it and suddenly the two guys are on the floor and everyone in the room jumps up to look.
you freeze. What in the hells are you supposed to do? so you merely watch as the two boys beat the fuck out of each other. Ben pulls ahead at some point and manages to get a few more punches in after pinning the guy down until the two are pulled apart.
“never talk about her like that, no. never talk to her again or else ill fucking kill you.” He thrashes around in the arms of the two blackwood lads that hold him back as he continues to spit insults at the bracken boy as he gets dragged off and out of the space.
Your legs move before you can even think and your standing in front of him, he freezes and blinks at you rapidly. Hes covered in blood, you cant tell which is his and which is the other guys but he looks badly hurt.
He had done it for you. In your name. And you could barely take how hot you felt but he needed you. “i have supplies in my tent let me fix you up.” the boys oooo’d and ben barely acknowledges them as he nods and allows you to drag him off to your tent.
The boys call after you two with some unsavory choice words but you just turn and flip them off before you continue to help ben to your tent. You place him on your bed cot and try to ignore the racing of your heart as he stays quiet, merely looking at you.
Hes usually quiet but not around you. Its odd to see him like this. So you shakily rummage around with the stuff in your chest as you nervously begin to talk. “thank you for stepping in i was really nervous he wasn’t going to leave me alone, you didn’t meed to-“ you gasp as your spun around and lips lock onto yours with fever.
One of his hands reach behind you and push all your stuff off your table, lifting up you up to sit on it while he kisses you. You gasp against his lips and he takes the opportunity to stick his tongue in your mouth.
Your head is spinning. You can taste the metallic taste of his blood seep into your mouth and it laces its way into your kiss. You fear you’re dreaming. You felt asleep on watch shift again and when you wake this will all just be a dream.
Yet when you grip your hand against his waist he pulls away and winces. You are pulled back to reality and try to pull away to grab your medical supplies that now are all spilled all over the floor but he quickly stops you.
“ben you’re hurt.” “i dont care.” He tries to kiss you again but you dodge it and grip his face in your hands. “ben,” His hand slide around your waist and play with the fabric of your tunic, testing the waters and sliding his hands lower and almost under the tunic you wear. “ben.” you say firmer and he pauses to look at you.
“right now i just need to feel your skin, please.” your heart pounds loudly against your chest and your mouth drops open. “ben,” his name shakily passes your lips and he presses his forehead against yours, his eyes closed. “How dare he talk to you like that. i should have killed him,” his hands slide under your tunic his hot hands run up and down your bare sides slowly. “he should know i take no disrespect to the future lady of blackwood.”
You kiss him unable to take it anymore and he meets your fever eagerly. arms wrapping around you and pulling you so your chest to chest and you can feel him pressing against your trousers.
His lips trail down your jaw as his hands find your breasts and you let out a moan as he squeezes them in his hands. His lips your neck and he sucks at any skin he can get while he grinds his hips against yours. His hands grow more feverish as he uses his teeth to pull down your tunic to expose more of your collarbone and neck, youre sure to be covered in bruises tomorrow but you cant be bothered with that.
One of his hands trails down your stomach and almost gets to reach under your pants until a horn sounds outside and you both look at each other alarmed.
“ugh fuck me.” “wish i could.” you slap him on the chest as he pulls away and he hisses.
“that hurts.” “if you had let me patch you up it wouldn’t be hurting you idiot.” “you certain didn’t look like you were going to complain. not when i was about to-“ “okay! lets go they need us.” you ignore the sound of his laughter as you flap open your tent and rush out leaving him behind, hoping you look presentable enough your men dont ask questions and pray you can continue what you were doing with ben later.
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gracexthoughts · 2 months
Text
intrusion 
jacaerys velaryon x wife!reader
warnings; assault, blood and fighting, break in, cursing, pretty typical for canon universe level of violence, no use of y/n or character description, men being creeps summary; from this request. two intruders, sent by the greens, stumble upon you in their search for rhaenyra and decide to take you as their prize instead a/n; i love this request sm and wrote this kinda fast so apologies for any mistakes. please do not read if any of the above is triggering to you. i put *** on either end of the physical attack on reader if you want to avoid it
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The night has been restless for you. A storm lashes at the island Dragonstone towers over; rain and lightning and thunder tearing at the walls of the keep, wind howling against the window pains. Your husband, Jacaerys, is still gone after being sent to treat with some ally. He has yet to return, and you cannot help the worry that has wormed its way into your chest. The storm has held him up, you repeat to yourself, sighing as you toss in bed to lay on your back. Even though you’ve only been married for a few moons, the bed feels too large without his warmth next to you. 
Lighting illuminates the room, and the door to your chambers bursts open as thunder claps, covering the sound of the wood banging against the stone. You bolt up, hoping to see Jacaerys, but instead, you are met with two pairs of unfamiliar eyes. 
Two men stand in the doorway of your chambers, one tall and skinny, a white scar across his face shining in the torchlight, and the other short with muscles pushing against the seams of his clothing. Fear seizes your heart as they examine the room. “Who are you?” you demand sharply, attempting to cover the fear in your voice with the commanding tone you hear Queen Rhaenyra use so often. 
“That’s not the bloody Whore Queen,” the stout man grumbles in a Flea Bottom accent, lowering the torch slightly. Whore Queen, they called your mother-by-law. The Greens sent them, you realize, your heartbeat increasing its pace.
“That’s the bastard prince’s bitch,” the taller one sneers, kicking the door closed and stalking forward.
“Where’s your princeling at, girly?” the other coos, placing the torch in the sconce near the door. As they come closer, you scoot away on the bed, their eyes like rabid animals circling prey. 
“The library,” you lie, “He’s due to come to bed any minute.” Your hand slowly moves under the pillow behind you, searching for the small dagger Jacaerys insisted you sleep with since the attack on his mother by Ser Arryk. The men look at each other, evil smiles splitting their faces. 
“Just came from the library,” the shorter man sneers, stepping up onto the platform the bed sits on. 
“No bastards there. Seems like you’re all alone,” the tall man coos, biting his lip as he stands at the foot of the bed. Your fingers close around the cool hilt of the dagger as the blankets of the bed are ripped off you. You don’t move, keeping the dagger hidden under the pillows, even as the men scan your figure, only clad in a silk nightdress. 
*** 
“Leave now, and the Queen and the Prince will reward you; I’ll ensure it,” you say, your voice beginning to quiver slightly in fear. 
“Oh, the Queen and Prince will reward us, alright, just not your lot,” the man at the foot of the bed smiles menacingly. “Hold her down.” The man at your side reaches out for you, and you slash at him with the dagger, managing a deep cut on his arm. The man stumbles back, a raging yell from his lips. 
“GUARDS! HELP!” You scream, trying to move to the left side of the bed, but your leg is pulled back, and your arm that holds the dagger is pinned down to your side by a heavy boot, a rough hand covering your mouth and muffling your screams. 
“Shut up, idiot,” the taller man grumbles to the other, who still wails, before turning back to you, “I heard you were a feisty one,” he laughs as he hovers above you, wrenching the dagger free and bringing it up to your face. 
“Little cunt, more like,” the man you cut grumbles, glaring at you as tears of fear blur your vision. 
“You’ll be fine. Help me with her, would ya?” The two men grab your arms and legs, dragging you from the bed. You cry out as you land on the hard stone floor.
“Shut up!” One of them growls behind you, pulling you up by your hair and covering your mouth. You squirm and fight as best as you can, but the men have the advantage and chuckle at your feeble attempts as they shove you up against the wall. You cry out again as your head connects with the wall and they begin tying your hands with rough rope as you pray silently to any god who will listen.
***
Before they can secure the ropes completely, blood sprays out of the taller man’s chest as a sword splits him in two. The hands on your limbs relent as the man is pulled off you, revealing Jacaerys, sword dripping with blood, face dark with rage and hair wet with rain. 
Jace tosses the man to the floor before his eyes turn predatorily to the stockier man who draws a short sword from his belt. You watch in shock as your husband engages with the man, attacking him with more vigor and bloodlust than you thought possible for the sweet man you know. You back away hurriedly and crouch in the corner of the room, desperately trying to get as far away from the fight as possible.
A hand pulls your attention from the fight, and you flinch away before turning to see the Queen, your mother-by-law, reaching for you. Her face is soft but urgent. She goes again for your hand, pulling you to her and helping you stand. She pulls you into her, taking care the shield you as gentle arms wrap around your shaking body, not caring that the blood on your front will stain her gown. You cling to her desperately, listening to her whispers of comfort, and turn your head to see Ser Lorrent pushing the intruder to his knees in front of the Prince, his blade to the man’s throat as more guards rush into the room. Jacaerys stands over the man menacingly, his chest rising and falling with his rapid breath, blood pooling from a gash on the intruder’s leg onto the stone floor. 
“Your friend is lucky I gave him a quick death,” Jacaerys growls, glaring at the man on the floor as he crouches down in front of him like a predator, “You won’t be so. I’ll be sure to send The Usurper a message with your head, once I’ve made you pay for touching my wife.” You’ve never seen such rage in your husband before; his usually so soft and sweet amber eyes now contorted with hatred, the flames from the torchlight reflecting in his eyes as if the fire is inside him. His sword drips with blood, mixing with the blood pool on the floor and yet there’s not a scratch on him. Rhaenyra squeezes you tightly for a moment before releasing you and stepping forward. 
“Take him to the dungeons, have two guards on duty at all times, and summon the maids,” commands the Queen to Ser Lorrent, who nods and drags the man from your chambers, a trail of blood in their wake. You watch, without moving from your corner, as Rhaenyra cups her son’s face before taking her leave and the guards, and Jacaerys turns to you; all the hardness in his gaze melted away and replaced by wide eyes full of concern. He speaks your name, his voice cracking slightly at the sight of you, and you throw yourself to him. His sword clatters to the ground as his muscular arms catch you, a hand cradling your head against his chest and the other wrapped around your waist tightly. Your knees give out as the shock leaves your veins, and the pair of you drop to the floor. 
“How did-” 
“The storm made the flight back harder than I expected. I was on my way up when I found a dead guard. They’d pushed the body behind a pillar, but I still saw it. I thought they’d come for Mother again, so I ran to her chambers first. When I saw her undisturbed, I just knew,” Jace explains softly, brushing your hair soothingly, his thumb wiping away tears and blood spatters from your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, my love. I should’ve been here. I should have come here first, I-I’m going to kill them all for laying a hand on you.”
Jacaerys’ mind is reeling and he’s sure he has never been so scared as he was when he found those men attacking his wife, his love, his heart. His more violent side, one he pushes down for the sake of decency, itches to storm down to the dungeons and torture the man who dared hurt you, to make him pay for every second of pain he caused you, to fly to King’s Landing himself to find those responsible for this night and add their blood to his blade. But you need him more in this moment and he is ever at your will.
“S’not your fault,” you say softly, your voice weaker than you’d like. Jace opens his mouth, but two maids enter the room, clearly having just been woken, eyes wide at the state of your chambers. 
“Pardon, my prince, my lady,” the elder of the two says softly, dark blue eyes full of sympathy. Your husband helps you stand, his arm staying protectively around your shoulder. 
"Let us wash and try to find sleep," he says softly to you before turning to ask one of the maids to make the bed in your old chambers and run you a bath. Jacaerys wraps his dark red and still-damp cape around your shoulders before leading you down the halls to the chambers you lived in before your marriage. The familiar surroundings comfort you as Jace leads you to the couch before starting a fire in the hearth.
Soon, the bed has been made up and a hot bath drawn and your husband dismisses the maids, thanking them for their help at such late hours. Jacaerys gently helps you undress and step into the bath. Kneeling outside, he helps wash away the night's evidence, softly sponging the blood from your skin and wringing it from your hair. You lean into his soft touch, finding comfort in his presence and care. Few words are spoken between you as he cares for you but in this moment, his presence is all you want. You can sense the anger in Jace lingering under his skin, needling at his mind, but he stays by your side, whispering promises that he won’t leave you, that he’ll always protect you; your wellbeing more important to him than anything else in the world.
Once you are dressed in a clean nightgown and all blood cleansed from both of you, the pair of you crawl into bed together, your head on his broad chest, allowing his heartbeat to lull you back into a sense of safety. It is not until the first rays of light begin to shine through the curtains that you both find sleep, but you do eventually, wrapped in the loving embrace of each other.
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ham1lton · 3 months
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girl if you write lando x assistant!yn, i think i'll ascend. oscaryn was already so good, but lando? would love that sm 🤭 have a great day queen!! 💖
author’s note: i’ve honestly been meaning to write this for so long! so here is some landoyn that doesn’t have lando being a loser. this is a part of my dream girl series <3
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liked by oscarpiastri, roscoelovescoco and 1,727,832 others.
yourusername: is this what the kiddos call a photo dump?
view all 50,728 comments
user1: ain’t this lando’s gf??? no way he bagged a baddie 😭
-> user2: he’s paying her atp 😭
landonorris: just died btw
-> landonorris: but your beauty brought me back to life 😍
-> yourusername: ur so lame
-> yourusername: i want u 😍
user10: hottest wag on the grid
hater1: yn dating one driver and working for another. what a slut.
-> user11: and she’s way more relevant and sexy than you’ll ever be!!! stay mad bitch !!!! 😹
user9: the sky is blue, grass is green and no matter when yn posts, within five minutes lando has liked, reposted and commented seven times.
*liked by yourusername.*
user3: i need you omg. the first pic???
-> user4: SHE GET MONEY… HER BODY TEA…
lilymhe: my girlfriend is so gorgeous 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏾
-> yourusername: no my girlfriend is MORE gorgeous 👩🏾‍❤️‍💋‍👩🏻
-> landonorris: do you see this shit?? alex_albon
-> alex_albon: you just gotta let it happen mate
user7: yn will you marry me???
-> landonorris: NO 🤩
landonorris: do you have a boyfriend?
-> yourusername: yes i do :D
-> landonorris: can he fight 😡
-> yourusername: no x
-> landonorris: babeeee 😒😔
lewishamilton: did you know that lando spamming your comments is a form of harassment? i’ll cover any legal fees necessary for you. 🌱
-> maxverstappen1: i’ll pay half.
-> oscarpiastri: let me know if you need anything else yourusername 👍🏻
-> landonorris: jealousy is a disease of the heart. get well soon xoxo
roscoelovescoco: where’s my’s picture’s? 😢
-> yourusername: I CANT BELIEVE I UPSET YOU IM SO SORRY MY BABY 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 I LOVE YOU.
-> yourusername: RUNNING OVER WITH TREATS RN!!!
landonorris: where is my pic creds for the last picture. want everyone to know you’re taken.
-> yourusername: sorry baby 💕💕
-> landonorris: ITS TOTALLY COOL TOTALLY OKAY I LOVE YOU MY ANGEL COOKIE FACE HONEY ❤️😘
landonorris: need you so bad 😍
landonorris: can i get ur number 😍
landonorris: can i slide in those dms queen 😍
-> user8: BRO U ALREADY BAGGED HER 😭
landonorris: thats MY girlfriend by the way stay mad everyone xxx
alexandrasaintmleux: double date soon? 🥰
-> yourusername: yes 😍 me and you can go out and we’ll leave lando and charles at home.
-> charles_leclerc: but then who’ll pay?
-> yourusername: good point… leave your credit cards with us and we’ll bring you back the leftovers x
-> landonorris: my gf is so generous 😘🥰
*liked by yourusername.*
landonorris: bae when are you coming home. our five kids are waiting for you xxx
-> user5: FIVE KIDS??? GET OFF HER 😭😭
-> yourusername: IM NOT A MUM YET PLEASE 😭
-> yourusername: he’s talking about my cats <3
-> landonorris: i want your cat
-> yourusername: OI BEHAVE 🙄 my boss can see this.
-> lewishamilton: unfortunately that is true, yourusername. thankfully jude is still single, for when you realise you’ve made a mistake 💕🌱
-> user6: HELP 😭😭😭😭😭
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— taglist: @flowergirl1134 @laur20a23 @greantii @rafebun (wanna join the taglist? fill out this form here!)
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cursingtoji · 10 months
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ᥫ᭡ 𝐬𝐨... 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰?
— where satoru comforts you after breaking up with toji
gojo being lowkey yandere, fem reader, toji is the ex, mentions of baby trapping, reader is older, gojo calls her senpai (almost as a mock), classroom smut, fingering, gojo has to wear a condom and he hates it, he’s also a bit pathetic and in love, reader is a bit of bitch. 4k (this was supposed to be drabble idk what happened)
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“i know what you’re thinking” gojo’s voice breaks the silence in the classroom where you were supposed to be grading papers but instead has been looking through the window for god knows how long now.
the sudden appearing happens after gojo catches your lost gaze on the field some of his students were training at. he saw your profile looking down at your desk, then after a few minutes you looked through the window until your eyes set on gojo’s protégée and the son of the man that broke your heart.
“but if you keep doing that megumi will get creeped out by you” gojo simply manifested in your classroom as soon as he realized you would stay in trance not even noticing your fellow teacher staring back at you from below.
“whatever, he never liked me anyways” you brush off, then remember what he said before, “and what the hell makes you think you know what i’m thinking?”
“ah, you forgot? i have an eye or six for this sorta thing” he points to his blindfold.
“you saying you can read minds now, you freak?” your relationship with satoru always had that dynamic. toji usually got very annoyed whenever he was in the same room as the two of you, he tried to pull you away or make an excuse for you two to go back to his place. deep down you knew he felt some type of way whenever you and satoru banter like that.
“please you’re so transparent i wonder how megumi haven’t seen it yet, i'm concerned that he might need glasses…”
“just say what you wanna say, satoru.”
gojo, on the other hand, didn’t need an instinct to see how jealous and possessive toji could be when he was around. all that gojo needed to say was one word to trigger the old man.
“every time you see megumi you think about him, don’t you?” he takes a step in your direction while you sink in your chair looking away, “senpai.”
gojo never showed respect for anyone, he was scolded several times by yaga because of it, utahime tried to hit him whenever she could, demanding formal treatment since she was his upperclassmen. but you, for whatever reason he decided, was the only one he used that honorific with.
“he’s his kid, of course i’ll—“
“ever since i heard about your breakup you’ve been acting like everything is fine, except for when you see megumi, then you frown,” gojo extends his index and taps the space between your eyebrows “and your cursed energy increases” he then sits on your desk looking down at you, “don’t tell me megumi had anything to do with why toji—“
“of course not” you stop him, although megumi was never fond of you, you know he’s a good kid and wouldn’t try to get in the way of your relationship with his father. as far as you know, he’s not particularly close to his old man either. actually, anything related to toji — bets, races, you — is automatically disregarded by him.
“then you gotta stop looking at him like he did something, or before you realize your energy towards him will become hostile and i can’t let that happen” gojo’s tone became more severe, it’s one of those rare times where he drops the playful persona in order to get serious. truthfully, megumi did nothing, but you can't unsee toji when you look at him, especially after seeing what your ex-boyfriend used to look like in the old days when he showed you some photos. it never occurred to you before, since you barely saw megumi anyways, you're not his sensei and in your free time you were with toji so there wasn't much time to get to know megumi since they don’t live together since the boy was five. you suppose gojo is right, pushing your hurt feelings away only makes them come out stronger when you see anything that reminds you of toji.
“that’s not gonna happen, i have my energy under control” you cross your arms, feeling exposed under gojo’s gaze even through the mask.
he stays quiet for a second, then his annoying tone is back.
“what did you even see in him anyways? he’s definitely not a good guy.”
“that’s rude, toji is—“
“did you think you could change him or something?”
“i— no, why—“
“from what megumi said he was cheap as fuck so it was definitely not the money” he rubs his chin.
“gojo, i swear—“
“was it the sex?”
you widen your eyes and close your mouth, not having a simple answer for that.
“jackpot” satoru whispers.
“fuck off, satoru” you raise from your seat but he raises too, blocking your way and trapping you against the black board and his body.
“you stayed with that guy for years just for the sex?” he has a mocking tone that makes your blood boil.
“no! and that’s none of your goddamn business.”
“and you’ve broken up, what? two months ago? you’ve been all this time without sex?” you raise your hand ready to slap his face or punch his nose but he sees your movements faster and catches your wrist, “don’t be like that senpai, your energy is getting hostile again” he takes all the time in the world lowering his blindfold and letting his hair fall down while staring at you with those freaking blue eyes, “although, on second thought i think that might be mmm… sexual frustration? it’s a color i never seen in you before” he grabs your wrist firmly.
“you don’t know what you’re saying.”
“oh but i do, senpai. i’m just wondering how you haven’t downloaded a dating app or tried to rub one off yet” gojo knows exactly which buttons to press to make you wanna stab him, or worst, make you wanna fuck him.
gojo gets closer to your face, so close you can smell his aftershave, and just the realization that it’s a different scent from the one you were so used to makes your heart ache and your clit throb.
“or did you?” he’s fast, gojo catches your phone on top of the table putting it right in front of your face to unlock then moving away from you to check it, “definitely no dating apps” you yell his name and try to snatch your phone back but he puts infinity on and you can’t reach him, “browser history?”
“satoru, you have no right, gimme that” your face is hot with shame.
“nothing either, well i suppose your camera roll…”
“no!”
“aha” he deactivates the invisible shield and right when you think you can retrieve your phone he turns you around, holding your arms behind your back and pressing your back against his chest, “is that what you use to get off?” he puts the phone in front of you, it’s opened in the gallery, more specifically in a part filled with lewd videos and photos.
“not bad, you could make some cash outta this” gojo puts his chin on your shoulder, playing a video which clearly was filmed by toji, his dick is getting in and out of you from behind, he gets a close look with the phone, his glistening dick shining under the flashlight while your pussy stretches to accommodate him. you press your legs together remembering the feeling, you’re not even struggling to get out of gojo’s hold by the time the video ends.
“you don’t need to get off by yourself, you know?” he smells your hair and kisses your ear, “it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”
“that was forever ago” you reply, at the time you thought satoru was going to use that against you, just wait for an opportunity to drop that bomb on toji’s lap and proudly say he fucked his girlfriend before, but whatever image you had of him back then was proved wrong since no one knows about your little escape with gojo till this very day.
“and wasn’t it good? huh?” he presses, sucking the spot on your neck that has you throwing your head back.
“yeah, it was” you confess, too sensible from the light touches to rethink your answers.
“see? i can make you feel good so you don’t become a little monster” he trails his hand on your thigh, pushing your skirt up until he finds your underwear, playing with the hem to tease you then pressing a finger on your clit.
“so charitable of you” you mumble sarcastically.
“i would gladly do this favor to you” he replies in the same tone, “even though you still own me.”
“for what?!” you close your legs around his hand turning your head around to look him in the face, not even considering a world where satoru did you any favors.
“for raising your boyfriend’s son? you really think you would’ve had a sex life with an eight year old summoning pets around the house?” he raises an eyebrow.
“don’t pretend like you did that out of the goodness in your heart, if megumi didn’t have the ten shadows you wouldn’t have bat an eye if toji sold him to the zenin’s or whomever.”
“you sound just like him” gojo’s eyes get darker, now he has your clit slowly rolling between his thumb and index over your underwear.
“besides— hng i came in the picture years after you took megumi… so don’t blame me” you wiggle your ass on his crotch.
“a ‘thank you my favourite kohai’ wouldn’t hurt” you sincerely laugh at that, never thinking of satoru as your underclassmen since that fucking minx is everyone’s exception on their cursed technique due to how powerful he is, so him being below you somehow was never a posibility, at least not strength wide.
satoru pushes your underwear to the side, rubbing the wetness all over your pussy and teasing your entrance.
“five years” you murmur as he inserts a finger then pulls it back to join his middle one too and go back in.
“hm?” satoru gets quieter, after talking so much and having so many things to say you’re surprised he stayed silent for a whole minute.
“last time you fucked me, it was five years ago” you get comfortable on his hold, his leg is between yours, serving as support for you to lean on while he scissors you.
“that long huh…” he sounds… sad? no, maybe nostalgic.
“crazy, right? so much has—“ you sigh when he curls his fingers, “changed.”
satoru take a long sniff of your hair, keeping a pleasing rhythm with his hand, it feels like giving someone a massage. he could go crazy and have you stripped out of your uniform a while ago, fucked you on your desk and left after marking your body and giving your ass a mean slap.
he could still do that, but whatever feeling bloomed in his chest has him enjoying this moment with you in his hold, stroking your insides and smelling your shampoo while discreetly rocking his hips on your behind for some relief.
he almost feels sleepy, the relaxed state has his mind going other places. he thinks of a world where he can tease you under your uniform every other day, you would tell him the school is no such a place for that then the day ends and you go home with him, holding hands, and finally when you arrive home he gets to finish what he started. then, he cooks whatever quick meal he can find the ingredients for since he knows you don't like to cook, afterwards you fall asleep on his lap on the couch as he strokes your hair, your belly is full, your heart is warm, you feel loved and he feels—
“toru~” he comes out of the trance he fell at when you call for him, he thinks for a second you were calling his name cause you felt he was off, but in reality you were calling him cause you are getting close, “right there” your breathy moans makes gojo smile and kiss your temple.
“where? here?” he pretends to not know, when the truth is he never actually forgot after your first time together, “right here, senpai?”
“y-yeah” you throw your head back, shutting your eyes to give in to the orgasm. gojo looks down at your pretty face, he feels the urge to kiss you right now, but he wants you to ask for it first. your walls clench around his fingers, he strokes that spot sweetly, like he's caressing a pet.
which is an ironic comparison since he’s the one that would gladly accept being your pet.
when you open your eyes gojo is staring at you silently through half lid eyes, it is truly a shame that he keeps those hidden for so long.
“desk, now” you demand needly.
“yes ma'am” gojo picks you up easily, moving the papers on top of the table to the floor.
you immediately go for his belt, choosing not to comment on the wet spot on his pants.
you feel a pressure on your chin as he guides your head up to look at him.
“ask me” he pleads.
“for what?”
“for a kiss” you smile, looking at his lips and how inviting they look. you ponder if you should tease him for it, since he's been teasing you with words a lot today, but then you chose to comply, despite going through your phone without our permission and claiming your frustration comes from lack of dick, he's actually being good to you.
“gimme a kiss” you raise your chin higher, he gazes at your lips and eyes, looking for something other than lust, yet he gives in, sealing your lips with his trying to keep his mind away from thinking of the man that had your lips previous to him. and how dumb that motherfucker is to let you go.
gojo's lips are soft, he starts gently which feels foreign to you, but it doesn't take long before his hand presses your lower back, pulling you closer until his cock hits your clothed cunt. the warmth he feels is enough to relish the passion in him, he kisses you harder, tongue intruding your mouth like he's trying to devour you.
the wet kiss also awakens your urge for him, you pull his cock from his underwear in the tiny space between his and your crotch, the second it's out it's already against your folds, the leaking tip hot against your skin.
“nuh-uh you better have a rubber” you push your knee onto gojo’s pelvis when he starts to rub himself on you to spread your wetness on his shaft.
“did you make toji wear one too?” he raises a questionable eyebrow at you, willing to bet all his heritage on the answer.
“he had to earn that privilege” you reach for gojo’s wallet, not failing to notice the black cards and considerable amount of cash, “i don’t know what you do after 6 so…” you take the packs, ripping it open yourself and rolling on him. with a face and body like his you doubt gojo spends most nights by himself.
“unbelievable…”
“satoru” you warn stroking him slowly, “can i get another kiss?” you bat your lashes. gojo comes closer, his nose even touches yours, then you feel his hands on your waist, turning you around till your elbows and chest are against the table and your skirt is being flipped over, underwear pushed down.
“you have to earn it, senpai” he spits the words against your ear as he pushes his dick into you. until a few moments ago, satoru was composed, happy to accept whatever crumbles you chose to give him. you managed to trigger him by saying toji still had something he couldn't have.
he's still gonna go through this — that's how whipped he is for you — though now he’ll be less gentle.
his cockhead hits your spot, nothing accidental of course, satoru knows your spots like the back of his hand. you whine and arch your back, satoru pouts realizing he won't get to suck some hickeys on the skin of your back and shoulder, not now at least, but the night is young.
“c'mon satoru, don't be like that” you look over your shoulder, licking your lips at the sight of him sweaty, flushed and frowny.
the sound of his name in your voice makes him want to cum on the spot, he dips his head on your neck sighing, not stopping thrusting your behind. he wanted to feel you so badly, why the fuck did you make him wear a condom? he's clean, of course he is, he's gojo satoru for heaven's sake! even viruses are afraid of him.
or was it something else you feared?
“hey… you on the pill?” he lifts his head slightly, his voice still muffled by the material of your dress.
“you’re not fucking me raw, satoru.”
“just wondering… you said you didnt wear a condom with him, so what kept you from getting knocked up?” he wiggles his hand between you and the surface of your table till hes palming your belly.
“you keep bringing toji up a lot, obsessed much?” you tease him, avoiding the answer, gojo pinches your clit.
“please, he wishes. now tell me. iud? implant? injections?” you push him away turning around then pulling him back.
“okay, you clearly had sex ed classes, now shut up and fuck me right” gojo takes your leg and places on his shoulder, you bite your fist to contain your moan, the new position makes easier for him to nudge your clit with his pelvis.
“i could be fucking you better, you know how?” he bites the skin of your leg, not harshly but enough to make you yelp, he smiles, giving a particular hard thrust that makes your eyes roll.
“condom stay on, satoru, i can’t risk getting preg—“ you slap your mouth. satoru stops.
“you’re not… on anything?”
“listen you can’t tell anyone about this, okay?” you cover your face, “i had a pregnancy scare a few years ago so… gosh why am i even telling you this…”
“go on” gojo massages your thigh.
“toji got a vasectomy. birth control wasn’t working for me anymore and it was only a matter of time before— well it doesn't matter. you can see why you have to use it right?” you place your elbows on the table, sitting up enough to see the look on his face, it’s not what your expected to see.
satoru looks like a child that just found out where his parents keep all the sweets. he’s grinning, dick throbbing.
“yeah, i see now” he bends, holding your neck and kissing you, he makes the kiss feel like a ‘thank you for trusting me’ but if this was a cartoon his shadow would have horns and a pointy tail.
all he can think now is exactly how to make you his, he can sweet talk you into allowing him to hit it raw, promising to pull it out, then… whoopsie.
the new discovery gives him a different kind of stamina.
“don’t worry, your secret is safe with me” he kisses your cheek after leaving you breathless.
he plunges in and out, a rhythm that has you seeing stars. gojo craves you so much, he’s quite bothered by all the clothes and the need to keep it down, otherwise he would have torn your dress apart and have you screaming by now.
“fuck— keep doing that” you run your nails on his undercut, gojo mewls and take your other leg, pushing it further to go deeper. he sees the white ring around his cock, getting high on the sigh of it combined with your pussy illuminated by the natural light coming from the window behind him.
he wonders if toji ever fucked you in a classroom like this, then he shakes his head, not allowing the image to form in his mind, instead he focus on you, and how your pretty face contorts as your orgasm approaches once again.
“so fucking pretty” he whispers quietly.
you attempt to lower your legs. feeling it’s gonna be too much.
“nuh-uh keep them here” he pushes back, “so tight” he closes his eyes.
you’re a moaning mess at this point, almost forgetting where you are.
“that’s right, let it go baby” your legs shake as your orgasm hits you, satoru can see the shape of your cursed energy peaking then getting softer.
he fucks you a little more, trying not to think about the condom trapping his dream of knocking you up.
god, you would look so fucking gorgeous carrying his baby, all round up for him to showcase around. he would do anything for you, you wouldn’t have to lift a finger.
if only…
“fuck“ he fucks his load — into the condom unfortunately.
after the initial high goes away he starts to hear his students asking where he went and why he’s taking so long, “wait here, i’ll take you home.”
“you don’t have to” you smile, poking his cheek.
“oh i do, i’m not done with you” he takes your hand from his nape and gives it a kiss before pulling out and throwing that despicable rubber into the bin, making a mental note to empty that bin outside where the evidence of what happened between two teachers is not so easily discoverable.
you sit up adjusting your dress and looking around, “did you see my…”
“nope” gojo leaves the classroom pushing the material of your panties further into his pocket.
gojo had the weekend of his dreams, he convinced you to stay in his place that night and the next one too, he rubbed your sore legs after you came so much you were spasming then made you breakfast, it almost made him believe of a happy ending for the two of you.
a dream that was shattered when, a few days later you returned from a mission and stood by the entrance of the school kissing… toji.
gojo watches the scene from above, a frown on his face.
“yeah i was surprised too” he almost forgot that megumi was with him, “thought she finally created some sense” he confesses.
gojo doesn’t say anything, he watches silently as you tiptoe to kiss toji, the fucker doesn’t even hold you right, he keeps his hand in his pockets and lets you with all the effort.
“meet you in the classroom in five” gojo disappears from megumi’s sight.
on your way to report your mission to yaga you see satoru leaning against a tree. you say his name in a surprised manner, not having prepared what to tell him beforehand.
“listen, i— hm… i thought you should know that toji and i are back, so—”
“did you tell him?” his arms are crossed.
“about… us? of course not.”
“why? don’t you think he should know?” you hear the challenge in his tone.
“no, and you’re not gonna say a word to him either” you step closer to him, trying to look intimidating which can be difficult due to the height difference, “may i remind you that between the three of us there’s a teen boy who would not appreciate the drama.”
“look at you, using fushiguro as an scapegoat” he smiles at the look of anger forming on your features, “it’s fine, i’m just a bit surprised at how quick you were to go back to him, that’s all.”
“let’s be real, satoru. it’s not like you were going to take me on a date or anything” gojo pulls you by your wrist, your body hits his, the sudden proximity has your eyes widening, anyone could see you and take the wrong conclusion. i mean, it wouldn’t be wrong but you didn’t want any conclusions to be taken for that matter.
“this is not going to be the last time and i don’t give a damn if you’re dating him or married or widowed.”
“satoru!” you shout his name in a whisper, immediately rejecting the idea of becoming a widow.
“you can tell toji or not, i don’t mind fighting him” he pushes himself out of the tree and past you. megumi is grown now, of course he still needs a lot of coaching regarding his skills, but emotionally speaking, he’s been a grown up since he was six.
before going to his classroom as promised, he teleports himself to yours, picking up the bouquet he left at your desk then teleporting to the fountain across the campus where he rips the paper that holds the flowers together and lets it all fall into the water.
satoru watches it for a moment, hurt but still decided to go through with his plan.
he wonders what would you tell toji if you got pregnant, maybe you could convince him the child is his, a miracle. then when the kid comes out with white hair and blue eyes you’ll have no choice other than be with him, the father of your child, the man who truly loves you. gojo satoru.
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hyewka · 8 months
Text
—what a loser! | c.bg
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୨୧ synopsis. hearing rumours of your sex life travel around your campus for the first time has you standing in front of the very person that you’re convinced is responsible. your secret fuck buddy.
୨୧ warnings. stoner!gyu, bratty sub!beomgyu, mean femdom, humiliation kink, VERY public, hair pulling, hate sex kind of, cunnilingus, use of pet, fuck buddies, reader has a priest dad, bit of a toxic dynamic
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“Why’re you here?” he mumbles casting his eyes down to his feet as he idly skates around, not paying you even a little bit of eye contact or actual acknowledgement.
“Can we talk somewhere else? More private?”
He ignores you.
You huff, rolling your eyes, adjusting the bag on your shoulder. The sun had already set, there were even less people out—no one was skating around at this hour but Beomgyu. “Why—" you take a breath, already feeling yourself get emotional and angry, “Why did you go around telling people about us?”
There’s a few reasons circling your head. Attention, bragging rights—attention was a big one but you hoped, no, a part of you believes it was an accident. That he let the information slip from his lips when he was drunk, or out of his right mind. But with the way he’s acting, it’s getting harder to hold on to the belief that Beomgyu was misunderstood and not just a fucking asshole.
Too much time goes by with silence and you think hes blatantly ignoring you again, but then he halts his skating, taking the time to run a hand through his hair. Hair that you’ve regretfully played with days on end, twirling strands around your finger, giggling as if the foundation you’ve built your relationship on wasn’t such a fragile fire that could be snuffed out in seconds if not the tiniest bit careful.
Look where you are now.
“Dunno, ‘cuz I can.”
His eyes are on you, bangs parted, looking straight at you. You can’t get it out of your mind, how the ends of his lips twitched up as he said that. Bitch. Fucking bitch.
He finds this amusing. A game. Your reputation was a game to him. Of course it is. He never took anything serious, not his career, not his relationships, not his future—he never cared.
Your nostrils flare as you stomp large strides towards him, charging and shoving his chest, having him stumble backwards off his board, dryly laughing. “The goody two shoes about to commit an assault?”
“Oh fuck off, you wouldn’t dare try suing me. God, I hate you so much. You’re such a—such a fucking loser!” you yell.
That wiped off the cocky demeanour.
“Here’s some two cents for you, I couldn’t give less of a fuck about whatever this is between us. I really couldn’t. But you—” your face gets heated up, pointing a finger at him. “You will never find anything better than what I gave you. And you’re going to live with that.”
He scoffs like he’s unbothered but it’s so clear with the way he clenches his jaw afterwards he’s pissed—it hit a spot. Good. Good, let him be hurt.
“What do you even—what did you gain by telling everybody my sex life? Having people call me a slut? Some sick pleasure from being superior to me for once? Attention? Huh? Why’re you acting out now?” Your eyes are narrowed as they implore answers out of him, searching his face and eyes, anything, anything that you can read from his unbearable silence.
“Yeah.”
You blink confused. “What?”
“Yeah, I wanted the attention. Happy now?” He walks to shoulder you but you let out a scoff, holding him back by his arm and pushing him in front of you again.
“You can’t for one second act like a man can you? You just run away from everything!” you feel like you could rip out your hair with how frustrating hes being.
“If you’re just going to stand there and insult me like a bitch I might as well just go and do something fucking productive.” he spits.
Your cheeks heat up and you think for the first time you understand the phrase of seeing red. Hes been poking and poking and poking with his nonchalance then later smugness then going onto just straight up disrespect—he was really pushing you. So he should’ve expected the hand that goes to strike him against his face—your chest rising up and down, brows furrowed deeply.
A faint red hand print blooms across his cheek, and his jaw falls slack, eyes blown out and wide. You suddenly grab him by the back of his hair, no doubt burning his scalp with the way he lets out a loud hiss. “I fucking hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”
You’re so close to his face and everything about the way he’s looking at you gives you the chills. You hate him. You do. He’s insane, he’s selfish, he’s rude, he’s—
A shaky lopsided grin still manages to break from his face, “No you don’t.”
And that was your last straw.
The addictive nature about Beomgyu is what kept you coming back over and over again—he never lead, he just let you…take him. And sometimes, at a point of your life where you feel like everythings being controlled for you, not having the choice to make the decisions you like, this somewhat served as an outlet.
That’s the more…reasonable explanation.
The other explanation is simple. He’s so fucking sexy.
The way he still melts into a kiss so harsh and mean, attempting to cup your cheeks, but immedietely dropping it when he feels your disapporval, his whimpers already picking up, not taking any incentive to breathe as if this kiss was enough to keep him alive; it’s those little things that have you up in the middle of the night thinking about him. Him.
Beomgyu, the stereotypical bad-boy stoner hipster outcast—the antithesis of everything present in your picture perfect life—he keeps you up at night. The mix of weed and his hilariously bad attempt at covering it with febreeze and cologne wafts your scent, it overwhelms you, but you still can’t get enough. Everything annoying about him disappears when he’s touching you.
“Why? Why do you keep doing this?” you say, finally being able to pull away from him—only after you had jerked on his hair harsher.
His lips are swollen, red and glistening—he looks pretty like this. He really does. But those lips always end up saying something to piss you off. “Keep doing what? Letting everyone know how you really are? Not actually the good girl you pretend to be, huh.”
You don’t know if he’s goading you on purpose because he likes it rough, or if he’s just being an asshole in general. It doesn’t matter. If he’s going to act like a brat, he’ll get treated like one.
Your knuckles had turned white with how hard you were gripping his hair so it feels relieving when you finally let it go. He tries to lean in to chase after your lips again, but you have your hands on his chest to stop him.
The flash of panic in his eyes when you step back from him is hilarious, it really is. It tells you everything you need to know. He wants you. He really wants you. He doesn’t care if you hit him or ruin his life, he wants you.
If his next words are any indication. “Hey, hey what are you doing? Where are you going?”
You walk to sit on a step of the stairs. “Do you think I’m a slut? Is that why you thought you had the audacity? Surely because otherwise if you respected me you wouldn’t have spread those rumors about me.”
He huffs out a laugh, the biggest reaction you’ve gotten out of him so far. He also walks to get closer to you. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You haven’t even come up with one single reason that would paint me in a better light. You really do see me as a fucking douchebag loser.” He’s clearly getting emotional with the way his voice gets higher pitched, the nonchalant front cracking, his lips slightly trembling.
“Because that’s what you are. Douchebag. Loser. You’re. A. Loser. Choi Beomgyu.”
You can see his fists clench at his sides, tight lipped. If you knew any better, you think he might’ve just started crying, but you’re not interested in tears. You angle your feet to point to the ground, “On your knees.”
He only hesitates for a second, he only stands there staring at you for a second, only a second before he crumbles and does as you say, getting on his knees in front of you, between your legs. “Closer.”
“But-"
“But what?” Your skirts already half way ridden up and you stare him down, keeping your eye contact intense.
“We’re in p-public. Anyone can see.”
You know hes blushing when you see the tips of his ears peek out, bright red. Aw, he’s nervous? Embarrassed? Shy?
“You’re never seeing me after this Choi. Make of it what you can or piss off.”
His eyes widen comically at that. “What? What does that mean? Are you leaving me?”
You can’t decipher or understand why exactly hes so surprised but you shake it off, you don’t want your good time to be spoiled. Not when your underwears’ already sticking to your pussy seeing him on his knees, on the ground, with his ripped baggy jeans, no doubt a pavement burn getting to him. “Are you going to eat me out or should I get up and leave?”
He shakes his head vehemently, hands on your knees spreading your legs. “Sorry, ‘m sorry. Don’t leave. Gonna make you feel good, promise.”
He’s already rambling like he’s dumbed out, like he’s about to be a goner. But he’s still hesitant in his actions and you groan, throwing your head back. “What the fuck Beomgyu?”
A pout rests on his lips, “I—…I don’t want anyone seeing you..”
You think he’s giving a fuck for your decency, you think its about you for once. But then another thought pops up in your head and your lips twitch. It’s not for you. It’s for him. He doesn’t want any possible pedestrian to see what only him so far has been able to see.
This isn’t worth it.
You make an attempt to get up before Beomgyu immediately has you sit back down, wasting no time to press his face between your legs, skirt over his head. His tongue pokes out to lick on over your panties, gradually wetting it and you sigh, the tenseness of your body evaporating. “Yeah, thats it. Be good for me pup.” He whines at that.
Beomgyu doesn’t tease any longer the moment your hands go to grab his hair because suddenly he bunches your panties to the side and you feel the contact of his hot tongue on your cunt, already lapping away like a dog. Dumb dog. Dumb dog. Dumb dumb dumb—but shit he’s having you curl your toes at the speed he’s going, the way he moans against your pussy like hes somehow enjoying eating you out more than you are.
“You’re my toy, nothing else. But you just keep—you keep irritating me, you keep being a dick, you keep provoking me.” you breathe out, tightening your fistful of his hair in your hand, making his moans even louder, nuzzling closer in your pussy you think he might genuinely suffocate at this point. But knowing him, he’d probably like that. “God, you absolute loser.”
He whines something intelligible, wet eyes looking up at you with his brows pulling up—it makes you gasp as you bite down on your bottom lip. He’s so pretty it’s unfair. Why’s such a sinful person so pretty? God must really have the time of his life making this hell for you.
You take it upon yourself to lift yourself a bit, grinding on his face harder, trying to reach your high, obstructing your view of his face—even with the anxiety of doing this so out in the open resting at the pit of your stomach. He’s practically mewling in your pussy, and the sounds send vibrations, his nose bumping up your clit every now and then. He lets you use him, he just lets you.
When Beomgyu fully submits like this to you…you see stars, you come hard. “More…more”, he groans, licking up your arousal. It’s so dirty, it really is, but you can’t help but nod.
Having the skater eat you out till your legs were jelly at a skatepark late at night would surely guarantee your place in hell.
“You’re such a whore, letting me fuck your face like this baby—don’t soil your pants yet, I know how you get. Probably getting off at the fact that we’re out l-like this…h-hah—dirty, dirty boy.”
He shakes his head, the glistening sweat of his forehead and the matted strands on his temple proof of how hard hes really going at it. “Not dirty. Just wan’ your attention..”
The second you tut at him for stopping he immedietely dives back in—you don’t know if it’s more him being afraid of a punishmet or because he himself doesn’t want to stop. Never mind that, because now hes wrapping his pretty lips around your clit and you’re fucking losing your mind with how quick your head clouds.
There are so many things circling your head right now. And this always happens whenever he starts talking during a hook up. Yes, it helps you get to an edge even faster but its for all the wrong reasons. He’d dirty talk for a bit before switching up, and suddenly all of his words are loving and cute and adorable and, and that’s bad. When you see him other than the image he’s curated for himself—that’s when you start feeling the unfamiliar butterflies fluttering.
You don’t like it. He’s not good for you.
“Stop thinking, only focus on me.” You gasp, your fingers digging into his tangled hair, disheveling it even more. Only him.
He makes you orgasm again, and when you catch your breath you gently push his head away, then harder when he can’t seem to stop kissing your inner thighs. He sighs, dropping it, but not without giving you one last puppy plea. You avoid his eyes, pulling your panties up and scoping around the area, all of a sudden feeling exposed. Did you really just let this punk eat you out on a staircase?
You stand up, dusting your ass, taking note of the redness of his knees and the large wet patch in between his crotch when Beomgyu follows, getting up from his knees, wiping his ridiculously wet lips. You tuck a strand behind your ear as you awkwardly stand, thinking over what you’re going to say now.
We’re over, bye.
I’ll go home now, don’t call me.
I hope you know how bad you messed up. Bye.
I’m blocking you on everything so don’t even think of contacting me.
“Don’t leave me.”
…That has you snap out of your reverie.
His voice is low, no doubt vulnerable. This is the worst. This is bad. Shit.
You clear your throat. “Why? Why shouldn’t I? Even if I didn’t want to I’d have to…my dad knows about you now because of the little stunt you pulled and he definitely doesn’t approve of you.” You mumble the last part, crossing your arms and keeping your distance. But that’s not of any use when he steps forward every time you take a step back.
“I’m—” He runs a hand through his hair again, clearly frustrated. And you don’t understand why, does he really operate life thinking there aren’t consequences to his actions? If he didn’t want to stop this so bad why’d he tell people about your relationship when you explicitly told him not to? “We can—we can do it in secret like we did this entire time. He doesn’t have to know.”
You sigh, also frankly frustrated. “Beomgyu! Why can’t you just-"
Suddenly you’re in his embrace, engulfing you so gently and yet the desperation in it couldn’t have been any more tighter. “Please, please don’t leave me. I’m sorry. I’ll—I’ll really do everything you want, I’ll be your toy, your pet, whatever shit you’re into—just don’t leave me."
You really shouldn’t give in. You really, really shouldn’t.
But then he nuzzles into your neck, mumbling with that slight whiny drawl in his tone, “I’ll be your good boy, I promise. Won’t misbehave anymore.”
Of course you give in. Again.
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୨୧ note. honestly don’t know where this came from, i was just making up backstory as i was writing. literally only had one thought and one thought only, what if sub!bad boy x dom! good girl? and that was the small attempt made here lol, i love hearing any feedback or even a theory or two concerning the story’s world as i might explore these characters again 🙏
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solar-wing · 5 months
Text
⚣ Dick: The Popular Kid 😉
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⚣😉 A/N → @swimmingpainterhandsfreak here you are! This is going to come in 3 parts, this one for Dick, and the next two for Jason and Conner separately. Every time I tried to do them all together, I kept getting stuck. They'll all be included in each other's in some fashion, but they'll still all have their own respective parts. Also, because I couldn't find it in my heart to do a fic where Y/N had to choose. Call me a wimp, IDC! Okay maybe just a little...either way, enjoy! WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | Omegaverse | Courting Rituals | Highschool AU | Alpha Dick Grayson | Omega Male Reader | No one is a vigilante | Dick and Jason are not brothers | Dick is the stereotypical popular kid | Smut |
⚣😉 Summary → Dick, the most popular Alpha in school and one of the sweetest souls anyone will ever meet has his eyes on someone special. What's his plan?
⚣😉 Words → 7.0k
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💙
⚣ ENJOY 😉
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Dick Grayson? Everyone knows who Dick Grayson is.
Everyone where he went, people swooned and fawned over him like some graceful dignitary or even divine being had just crossed their paths. His charisma was magnetic, drawing others into his orbit effortlessly.
With a smile that could disarm the most skeptical and a charm that seemed to flow from him like a natural force, he moved through the corridors as if he owned them, yet always with a friendly word or a helping hand for those around him. He wasn't just admired; he was adored, a living legend among ordinary teenagers.
And yet, you’d never know it from how Dick acted around others.
Dick Grayson remained remarkably humble and grounded. Unlike many in his position, he never let the almost worshiping attention warp his character. His kindness knew no bounds, and his humility was genuine.
Despite being the adoptive son of Gotham's beloved billionaire, Bruce Wayne, and having access to all the privileges that came with it, Dick never flaunted his status or wealth. Instead, he used his influence for good, often volunteering his time to help those less fortunate in Gotham City.
His actions spoke volumes, proving that true greatness lies not in the accolades one receives but in the way one treats others. In a world where fame and fortune often breed arrogance and entitlement, Dick Grayson stood out as a shining example of grace and compassion.
Bruce was the “Billionaire Playboy,” and Dick was subsequently deemed as “Gotham’s Prince Charming.”
And every prince needed someone to share their kingdom with; Dick Grayson was no exception.
Which is why Gotham’s most prestigious high school and its student population were positively abuzz with excitement at the rumors flying around that Dick was planning to court someone. While many had their own ideas (most being hopes that Dick would choose them), mostly everyone had one certain candidate in mind that had beseeched their heart of their school’s Prince Charming.
“Bitch, are you blind? Have you not seen how hot Y/N and Dick look together?” Sasha replied.
“OMG, yeeess! Like seriously, imagine how cute their kids would be. And Dick would probably be like the world’s best dad.” Manny screeched.
“Fuck all that. Y/N needs to give a real Alpha a chance.” Kevin proclaimed, puffing his chest out.
Everyone at the lunch table eyed the athlete while trying to hold back their chuckles, “Dude, no offense. But, you’ve got nothing on Dick. I wonder how Jason and Conner are gonna react.”
“Well, the four of them have been best friends since what, like the 1st grade? I’m sure they’ll be fine with it,” Ethan said bored, scrolling through his social media feed on his phone before coming across an interesting post, “Oh, would you look at that, Dick proposed to Y/N.”
“WHAT?!” Everyone collectively screamed at the table before Ethan’s phone was snatched out of his hand so they could all see.
“Rude,” The beta scoffed.
Dick had known Y/N practically since diapers after Bruce adopted him when his parents were caught in a fatal accident. The Omega’s parents, specifically his dad, had been classmates and friends with the billionaire.
From the early days of their childhood, they went from being adolescents who were thrown in the playpen together while their parents hung out and caught up, to being thick as thieves, joined at the hip, and now serving as constant headaches for the adults. They shared everything from toys and snacks to hopes and dreams, their laughter echoing through the halls of Wayne Manor as they embarked on countless adventures together.
Their parents often liked to joke that the two of them together were like two halves of one brain cell. Which, if you knew the two, it was nothing but the truth. Even worse when their other buddies Conner Kent and Jason Todd were involved, all four growing up with each other and causing massive chaos when together.
But, for Dick and Y/N, their bond had been special since day one.
From the earliest days of their childhood, Dick and Y/N had been inseparable. Under their parents' watchful eye, they had grown up side by side, learning and exploring the world around them with the curiosity and wonderment of youth.
As they navigated the trials and tribulations of adolescence, their friendship had only deepened, strengthened by the trials they faced together. Whether it was navigating the complexities of high school or grappling with the weight of their respective legacies, they had always found solace and support in each other's company.
In Dick, Y/N found not just a friend, but a pillar of strength, someone to lean on when he felt like he couldn’t stand so strong on his own. Dick's unwavering presence provided a sense of security and stability in a world filled with uncertainty. His caring sensibility and compassionate nature offered solace in times of need, a comforting reminder that no matter what challenges they faced, they would never have to weather them alone.
When they both reached the age of puberty where their second biological statuses would present themselves, their friendship remained steadfast and strong. As Y/N's presentation as an Omega became apparent, the dynamics of their friendship did shift subtly yet significantly added more depth to their relationship.
When there were sudden whispers and sideways glances, a subtle unease had settled in the newly presented Omega, shaking his confidence that had been strong up until then. For Y/N, the change was both bewildering and overwhelming, as he grappled with the newfound scrutiny and expectations that came with his new biological status.
But amidst the uncertainty and the whispers, there was one constant: Dick Grayson. From the moment Y/N's presentation became known, Dick was there, unwavering in his support and resolute in his loyalty. He stood by Y/N's side, a steadfast presence in the face of adversity, offering a shoulder to lean on and a voice of reason in moments of doubt.
When the bullies came, as they inevitably did, it was Dick who stood between them and Y/N, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. With his new Alpha status and ever-growing popularity standing because of it, the bullying attempts were short-lived since none of their classmates wanted to commit what they considered social suicide by getting on the son of Gotham’s most beloved billionaire’s bad side.
Which, Y/N definitely considered them smart for it. Because, while Dick was always kind and pleasant to everyone, he was never a pushover and would always defend those he cared for with striking resilience.
Emphasis on the ‘striking’ part. Bruce had Dick put in self-defense lessons from the moment he could walk. An unspoken necessity considering the lives they lived.
But perhaps more than his physical prowess, it was Dick's words that offered the greatest solace to Y/N. In moments of doubt and insecurity, when the weight of expectations threatened to overwhelm him, Dick was there, reminding him that there was more to him than any title, rule, or expectation someone placed on him because of his status.
He‘d always repeat how he was strong and capable and that he didn't need the validation of others to prove his worth. And that he’d never know just how much he’d mean to others, especially the Alpha himself.
In Y/N, Dick found not just a friend, but a soulmate—a partner whose presence brought a sense of completeness to his life. As they navigated the complexities of adolescence and the challenges of growing up, Y/N became more than just a confidant; he became a source of emotional support and unwavering understanding.
When Dick grappled with the weight of his past, mourning the loss of his parents and struggling to find his place in the world, it was Y/N who offered a shoulder to lean on and a sympathetic ear to listen. With quiet strength and boundless compassion, Y/N stood by Dick's side through every tear shed and every heartache endured, providing a sense of solace and comfort that no one else could.
But Y/N offered more than just emotional support; he offered clarity and perspective in moments of confusion and doubt. With an intuitive understanding of Dick's innermost thoughts and feelings, Y/N helped him navigate the murky waters of identity and self-discovery, guiding him toward a greater sense of who he truly was.
And while Dick may have been the Alpha in their friendship, it was Y/N who kept him on his toes, challenging him to be better, to do better, in every aspect of his life. Whether it was pushing him to excel academically, encouraging him to pursue his passions, or gently nudging him towards self-improvement, Y/N was always there, helping Dick fill in wherever he was slacking and encouraging him to reach new heights.
But amidst the laughter and the shared moments of joy, there lingered an undeniable tension—a spark of something deeper and more profound. It was a connection that transcended friendship, a bond that spoke of unspoken desires and unfulfilled yearnings. In Y/N, Dick found a kindred spirit, a partner in crime, and perhaps, if fate allowed, something more.
Their relationship was a dance of longing and restraint, a delicate balance of affection and restraint that left them both yearning for more. And as they stood on the precipice of adulthood, their futures intertwined in ways they could never have imagined, Dick couldn't help but wonder if perhaps, just perhaps, Y/N was more than just a friend—he was the missing piece of the puzzle, the one who completed him in ways he never thought possible.
While he may have been too young to really understand everything he was feeling, he knew he didn’t want the chance of him never getting to learn more about it ever become a reality.
So, Dick went to his dad, to ask him how he could properly court his friend. Of course, Bruce, being the observant one who always liked to play detective as his friends and colleagues would point out, was not surprised at his son's request.
Truthfully, he was waiting for the day when Dick and Y/N got together and even had a little wager going on with the Omega's parents. Speaking of which,  he'd won, making sure to have Alfred remind him to collect his winnings from the L/N's when all this was said and done.
Actually, he figured why not collect his winnings as soon as possible. Being a bit of a traditionalist, something he got from his own father, Bruce advised his son the best first thing for him to do was to get Y/N's parents' blessing before he committed to anything else.
So, while Y/N was busy hanging out with some friends for an after-school club, Dick and Bruce made their way over to the L/N residence, where the billionaire smugly watched his son ask the two males if he could court their son. Of course, they gave their blessings with joy, but they didn't miss the subtle smirk on their friend's face as Y/N's dad went to grab his wallet.
Bruce took Dick to the stores to find Y/N a special gift, something that would symbolize his commitment and devotion to his feelings towards the Omega, but would also be an accurate representation of them. The younger male was torn between the many options, unsure of what would be the best choice.
When his eyes landed on a shining, silver chain with a sapphire pendant cut into the shape of a bird, Dick knew this was the one. He made sure to wear it for about a week, using his favorite colognes frequently so it was covered in his scent.
Then, right before lunch, he'd presented the gift to the Omega in the hallway of their school with many of their classmates as witnesses.
"What's this?" Y/N asked, looking down at the velvet box Dick had handed him.
"Remember that history project we had for Mr. Kari's class, and you chose to do one on the ancient Kryptonian society and all its mythological lessons," Dick explained, smiling softly as the memories flooded back.
"I remember."
"Well, I happened to be out shopping the other day–"
"Uh huh, I'll choose to believe that,'" Y/N eyed him suspiciously, making the Alpha chuckle.
"And, I saw this necklace," Dick continued, taking the box from the Omega's hand and opening it.
When the male caught sight of the jewel inside, his breath hitched, unable to take his eyes off the shimmering blue gem.
"It reminded me of your research on the mythological lore of the two birds," Dick explained, pulling the necklace from its cushion, "Flamebird and–"
"Nightwing," Y/N finished his voice barely above a whisper.
"Yeah," Dick smiled, "I guess the jeweler was a fan of the story. But, I remember you talking about their relationship, how they fell in love and were mates, destined to always be reborn and find each other, and it made me think of us, and how I don't ever want to think of life without you."
Take notes folks. Dude's got game.
"Y/N, will you accept this token and allow me the honor to court you, with the hope of becoming your Nightwing?"
Dick knew the Omega was going to later berate him and possibly hit him over the head with a pillow or something for making him cry at school. He liked to refer to himself as an emotional thug, something Jason accurately always called bullshit on.
"You're lucky you're cute you jerk," Y/N sniffled, hugging the Alpha tightly, "Of course, I will."
"Thank you, beautiful," Dick whispered, hugging the male back, ignoring the whistles and cheers of their classmates.
Y/N turned so his back was facing the Alpha, allowing him to clasp the necklace around his neck, the jewel resting near his heart. Dick smiled, wrapping his arms around the male and nuzzling his nose against the other's neck.
"Ugh, I'm calling it. They're so gonna get married and have a bunch of model babies." Manny gushed.
"I can't believe Y/N didn't realize sooner Dick was into him. How oblivious can you be?" Sasha asked.
"He's an Omega. It's a blessing and a curse. Blessing because they're usually the most beautiful and have the best genes. Curse because they're the most clueless and naive. If an Alpha wants to fuck, they're the easiest to seduce." Kevin replied.
"You're a pig. You're lucky no one has tried to castrate you yet." Ethan deadpanned.
"I'm not wrong."
"Still a pig, and you definitely are," Kara replied.
"Whatever. I still think Dick is a weak choice of an Alpha—"
"You're just mad because Y/N didn't go with you to homecoming."
"I'm not—shut up, Ethan! All I'm saying is that Dick is not the ideal choice for someone like Y/N. He needs an Alpha who's strong, can put him in his place when needed, and doesn't put up with his shit. Not a rich pretty boy who's spineless and soft. I'd even say Conner would be a better choice for him, not before myself though," Kevin stated, puffing his chest out a bit.
"Yeah, uh huh. Whatever helps you sleep at night, babes," Manny said, rolling his eyes.
"Just wait and see. When this ends in disaster, and Y/N realizes Dick can't protect or provide for him like a true Alpha can, he'll come running straight into my arms," Kevin said confidently, smirking.
"Maybe this is why you never get invited to Dick's parties anymore and always have to count on getting in with the rest of the football team," Kara mocked.
Kevin rolled his eyes, "Whatever I'm telling you, it's only a matter of time. Yeah, Dick's cool and nice and all that, but that's only going to get him so far. Plus, all the expensive gifts in the world don't compare to the value of a real Alpha," Kevin said while flexing his arms under his varsity jacket.
"Yeah, a real Alpha like you?" Sasha snickered.
"Exactly," Kevin smirked.
"Uh huh, sure. Keep dreaming, sweetie," Manny laughed.
He along with many others would indeed have to keep dreaming. Dick Grayson was not one to do things halfway.
The teen Alpha spared no expense when courting Y/N, taking him on extravagant dates, and spoiling him with lavish gifts. Of course, much of this was being spent on Bruce's coin, but the billionaire didn't mind if it meant he got to see his son happy.
Y/N also knew how Dick was the perfect gentleman (having an English butler who knew everything about being prim and proper helped a lot), but what he was seeing from the Alpha now was a completely different level of chivalry.
He was pulling out the chair for him if he wasn't opening the door for him or offering his coat. If he wasn't paying for the food or dessert, he was giving him his own. If he wasn't helping him into the car, he was holding his hand and making sure his seat belt was fastened.
Y/N was practically never allowed to pay for anything while in Dick's presence, or even in moments when he wasn't. When Y/N accidentally shattered his phone, his parents didn't even need to call the store to order a replacement cause Dick had gone ahead and ordered Y/N the latest new phone.
Dick wasn't just spending Bruce's money willy-nilly. Since Y/N accepted his courting date, Dick got a job just so he could use that extra money to spend on Y/N. Bruce just tended to fund the really expensive dates and gestures.
It gets to a point where Y/N has to think about his words carefully around the Alpha because, within a span of twenty to thirty minutes, it would be presented to him with a bright, adorable smile that made it impossible to be mad at him. The Omega was craving Wendys for lunch and without thinking about it said it out loud. On his way to lunch with a couple of friends, he was confused because Dick wasn't with him since they always walked together from lunch.
But, his sudden disappearance was immediately explained when after arriving at the cafeteria, he turned to see Dick walking in with bags from Wendys.
"Really?" Y/N eyed him with an amused raised brow as the Alpha set the food and drinks on the table.
"What?" Dick responded, an innocent look on his face.
That became more of their routine, even in situations where money was not involved. If Y/N wanted something, he wouldn't need to say a word, and Dick would do it.
One of Y/N's favorite things in the world was Alfred's baking, especially his cookies. On days when the Omega was feeling up to it or was just down in the dumps about something, Dick would surprise him with the cookies. Of course, he was paying for the ingredients and materials and just having Alfred do the baking, but Y/N didn't need to know that.
Sometimes, Y/N would get into a depressive funk about something and would start forgetting to take care of himself. His parents knew how to handle it, but nowadays, they just called Dick, and in under an hour, the Alpha was at their house helping Y/N get back on his feet. Helping him clean his room, organize things around him, and get himself back on track.
If you thought they were inseparable before, well, that was nothing compared to now.
Dick and Y/N were practically joined at the hip, always together, and always touching. Holding hands, shoulders, thighs, waist, etc.
And just as much as there was a slight change in Dick's behavior (in a positive manner of speaking), in how he treated the Omega, there was also a slight shift in his attitude towards others when it came to him as well. It wasn't obvious at first, but to those who paid attention or knew more about them, many could also see how much more protective Dick had grown of Y/N.
Don't be misled, Dick never lost his friendly and kind attitude with others. But, it was easy to see the Alpha tended to become a bit more on guard when with the Omega and they weren't solely around family like their parents or Conner and Jason.
Dick was always at Y/N's side or close by, ready to jump in at a moment's notice if he noticed even the slightest hesitation or uncomfortableness from his Omega. Which, no one would actively fault the Alpha for it, knowing it was typical for Alphas to become a bit more territorial and protective in any matter regarding the Omega they were courting.
And it didn't help that their school was full of prideful, jealous, and horny Alphas along with envious Betas and bitter Omegas. Even more considering they were all hormonal teenagers as well.
When it comes to a courting ritual, there is no greater challenge than competing with other potential suitors.
Since Dick currently held the title of one the most popular Alphas in school, if not the most popular one, mostly every Omega and a significant number of Betas wanted him as their boyfriend. But, since his eyes were on Y/N, that made the Omega in question the recipient of many fake, cheery smiles tinged with jealousy and obvious, hateful glares.
Which, to be honest, he didn't know which one unsettled him more.
On the other end, there were no shortages of Alphas and would-be suitors who saw and wanted Y/N as their mate. And with Dick suddenly courting the Omega, he'd pretty much made himself an open target, even if the majority of them were smart enough to know the consequences.
Dick didn't blame them, of course. Even though he always thought of his Omega as attractive, handsome, beautiful, and every other adjective in a thesaurus, he could clearly see how much Y/N had grown into himself since their early years as teenagers.
Y/N went from being one of the many everyone picked on and pushed around, to being one of the few most sought-after Omegas in the entire school. While puberty could be the literal curse of inconvenience and interruption, there was no arguing that it had its benefits as well.
And many would attest to those benefits personally. Not too much though since they knew Dick was a black belt in martial arts. But, there were always those who thought of themselves as untouchable and would try to test the waters, not realizing the depth of the ocean they were about to dive into.
"Oh, hey, Y/N. You're looking pretty hot today. Maybe we should hang out later. Grab some food or something," An Alpha said, leaning against his locker, his arm blocking his exit.
"Uh, thanks, but no thanks, Mike," Y/N politely declined, trying to pass the guy's arm, but the Alpha wouldn't budge.
"Aw, c'mon, baby. Don't be like that. You know, I could show you a good time. Better than what you've ever experienced. I could treat you right," The male purred, leaning in closer.
"I'm sure you could, but I'm not interested, sorry. Now, if you would excuse me, I have class," Y/N said, trying once again to push the other away.
"Why are you playing hard to get, huh? We both know that's not who you are, baby," Mike replied, grabbing the Omega's wrist and pushing him against the lockers.
"I said, 'no,'" Y/N glared, pushing the guy off him, "So, leave me alone."
"Aww, don't be like that. Come on, let's go have some fun, baby," Mike smirked, pulling the Omega into him.
"Mike, stop," Y/N said, struggling in his grip.
"Excuse me."
Both turned to see Dick, the Alpha's gaze sharp, and his fists clenched tightly at his sides.
"Dick! Hey, man. What's up?" Mike greeted, letting go of the Omega.
"Not much, just getting my books for next period out of my boyfriend's locker," Dick answered, moving to stand beside Y/N, putting a protective arm around his shoulder, "How about you?"
"Oh, uh, nothing much. Just hanging out. I was actually going to head to the library, so I'll see you later," The male tried to quickly excuse himself, only to turn and bump into Conner and Jason who were both standing there with their arms crossed, glaring at him.
"Going somewhere, Mike?" Conner asked, stepping forward.
"Yeah, man. Why the rush? You didn't seem like you were in a hurry a few minutes ago," Jason added, taking his place beside the other.
"No, no. I was just heading to the library. Need to catch up on some studying but uh, I'll catch you guys later," Mike said, but was once again stopped by the two Alphas.
"Why don't we walk with you? Make sure you make it there safely. It's the least we can do, right?" Jason said, a nervous look painted on the other's face.
"You wouldn't mind, would you?" Conner asked, an almost sinister smile on his lips.
"No, no. Of course not," Mike sighed, defeated.
"Well, then. Lead the way," Jason said, motioning for the guy to continue, watching him as he walked away.
"You're coming with us, right, Dickie?" Jason asked, a mischievous gleam in his eye.
"Yeah, I can't let you two have all the fun," Dick smirked, before turning to Y/N, "Mind taking both our books to class, babe? I'll be there in a few minutes."
"Of course not," Y/N nodded, giving the three a small wave as they turned the corner.
The Omega sighed, shaking his head, "Bunch of idiots," He said fondly, walking to his next class.
No one was surprised when Mike turned up at school the next day sporting a black eye and plenty of bruises to match. The three Alphas would deny anything, but everyone could guess what happened.
"Still think Dick can't protect or provide like a real Alpha," Manny asked Kevin with a mocking attitude after they heard about the incident with Mike.
"Shut up, dude," Kevin glared, grumbling.
Dick would continue his courting, making sure to put the fear of God into any other Alpha who dared to lay a hand on his Omega. He was determined to prove his worth, not just to the Omega, but also to anyone else who doubted him.
After everything the Alpha had done, Y/N couldn't imagine anyone else better for him. Sure, Dick wasn't a traditional, stereotypical, and cliche Alpha. He was more on the reserved and kinder side of the spectrum.
But, that's what made him special. He was someone who could make you laugh, even on your worst days, and could comfort you without needing to say a word. When he wasn't the class clown, he was the one everyone could count on and rely on.
His patience was endless, his kindness boundless, and his loyalty unwavering. And, not to forget, the dude was super fucking hot.
Just as much as Y/N was emotionally and mentally attracted to Dick, not that he was looking at the Alpha in a different line since the beginning of this courting ritual, the physical attraction he felt was almost overwhelming.
Dick may not have been on any sports teams, but he might as well have been, cause the dude was fucking ripped. He had abs for days and a backside and thighs to die for. Not to mention, the muscles in his arms.
Y/N could feel himself salivate whenever he had the pleasure of seeing the Alpha undressed and was very lucky no one had ever seen him drooling over his best friend. And the same went for Dick, who'd always been attracted to Y/N but only had just recently started acting on those feelings.
And what did you get when you had two hormonal, in-love teenagers?
Two horny fuckers who couldn't keep their hands to themselves.
"We're going to be late," Y/N said, panting against the door of the janitor's closet they were in, his shirt discarded and pants unbuckled with Dick kneeling on the floor in front of him enjoying himself immensely on the Omega's arousal.
"Don't care," Dick murmured, the vibrations sending a jolt of pleasure through the younger's body.
"Someone's gonna find us," Y/N moaned, gripping the Alpha's hair tightly.
"They won't," Dick hummed, his tongue swirling around as he continued his erotic ministrations.
"Fuck," Y/N whimpered, his hips bucking forward.
"Any louder and you'll be the ones who get us caught," Dick teased, pressing a finger toward the Omega's slicked hole which pushed them over the edge.
"I hate you," Y/N panted, leaning his head against the door, his eyes closed as he tried to calm his racing heart.
"No, you don't. You love me," Dick smiled, the area around his mouth shiny with Y/N's arousal and cum as he stood up and pressed a kiss against the Omega's cheek.
"Ew! Dick, gross," Y/N whined, wiping and cheek and pushing the Alpha back.
"What? It came from your body! That's basically kissing you," Dick chuckled, fixing his clothes.
"That's not how it works and you know it. You're disgusting. I'm not doing this with you anymore," Y/N stated, cleaning himself up.
That was a lie.
Y/N found himself in a role-reversal situation as he was on his knees, forcing the Alpha against the wall while bobbing his head up and down on the Alpha's cock with unforgiving energy.
"Fuck, baby. She was only giving me her notes for the physics exam," Dick groaned, his hand fisting the Omega's hair.
"I'm sure," Y/N growled, his teeth lightly scraping along the length, his mouth still working, "That's probably why she was trying to scent mark you too, right?"
"She wasn't–shit, babe. Fucking hell, that's it. Right there," Dick moaned, his hips thrusting forward.
"Wasn't what? Going to try and get you to knot her in the bathroom stall after the test? Cause, I'm pretty sure that's what her plan was, right?" Y/N seethed, his hand pumping the Alpha's shaft, his tongue flicking the slit.
"Geez, who knew you could get so jealous," Dick chuckled, his breathing ragged.
"Shut the fuck up. Don't think I won't bite this thing off," Y/N threatened, his teeth lightly scraping the flesh.
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. But, you don't have to worry, alright? There's no one else but you, Y/N. No matter how many Omegas try and throw themselves at me, my eyes will always be on you. Only you," Dick promised, caressing the other's cheek.
Y/N only gave him a look before his mouth was engulfing the Alpha's cock, sucking and licking the throbbing appendage while squeezing at the base to prevent him from cumming.
"Fucking hell, baby. I'm sorry, okay. I won't talk to her again. Promise," Dick whimpered, his orgasm feeling like he was going to collapse if he didn't cum down the Omega's throat soon.
"Damn right, you won't. This here belongs to me. Understand?" Y/N stated his tone firm and commanding while gripping the hard cock in his hand harder for emphasis.
"Yes. Shit, yes. Please, Y/N," Dick begged, his legs starting to shake.
"Who's is it, Dickie?"
"Yours,"
"Who's the only one who gets to taste, touch, or smell this?"
"Only you,"
"Good," Y/N purred, his tongue running to the shaft and its leaking head.
"Oh my god," Dick moaned, his breath coming out in heavy pants.
"You're all mine, Dick Grayson," Y/N declared, his lips wrapping around the swollen head, sucking and licking the precum.
"Yours. All yours, beautiful. Only you," Dick whimpered, his hips rocking gently, his eyes rolling back as he came into the Omega's mouth.
Y/N greedily swallowed, his hands moving to squeeze and massage the Alpha's balls, milking him dry. Dick stared down at the sight of the Omega with his cock still inside his mouth, the male's cheeks hollowed out as he sucked.
"Tastes so good," Y/N hummed, his tongue lapping up the remaining liquid.
"Jesus, babe," Dick groaned, pulling the Omega off the ground and onto his feet.
"What?" Y/N asked innocently, smiling at the Alpha.
"Nothing," Dick smiled, kissing him, "You're just amazing, that's all."
They couldn't get enough of each other, continuing their sneaking off to empty classrooms and bathrooms, sometimes even the gym showers and the locker rooms. They would usually do their "business" in the middle of the day, right after lunch or in the morning.
They would try to do it at each other's house, but would constantly get interrupted by their parents, who more often than not knew what their kids were getting up to. They were teenagers themselves once and didn't want to risk the young Alpha and Omega making a mistake.
It's why neither was allowed to hang out in the other's room without the door open. They used to sleep in the same bed when they were younger, but after they presented and especially started becoming a couple, both Y/N's parents and Dick's dad had to lay down some strict rules.
Didn't mean they would listen though.
"Dick, stop," Y/N whimpered, his hands gripping Dick's forearms as he laid with his back against the Alpha's shirtless chest, his hips rocking into the Alpha's fingers.
"Fuck, baby. So fucking wet," Dick groaned, his fingers thrusting into the Omega's slick, heated hole.
"Dick, your dad or Alfred could hear us and walk in at any moment," Y/N panted, his legs quivering.
"You should've thought about that before you teased me in the car," Dick whispered, his fingers curling and pressing against the spot that had the Omega crying out.
"Fuck!" Y/N whimpered, his fist flying up to his mouth and biting down.
"Yeah, that's it, babe. Stay quiet as you can," Dick husked, his pace increasing, his fingers stretching the Omega's hot walls.
"Mmph," Y/N moaned, his head falling back against the Alpha's shoulder, his hips rocking against the other's hand.
"That's it, baby. Just like that. Feel so good, babe. Gonna ruin this tight little hole of yours," Dick purred, his free hand tweaking and tugging at the Omega's sensitive nipples.
"Dick, please. Wanna cum," Y/N cried, his hand reaching behind and gripping the Alpha's neck.
"Then, cum. Show me how much you love it when I fuck you with my fingers, baby," Dick grunted, his fingers twisting and curling.
"Shit, shit, shit," Y/N chanted, his voice muffled as he bit down on his fist, his orgasm ripping through him, his cum coating his stomach.
"Hey dudes– OH MY FUCKING GOD!"
Both males froze, their heads snapping towards the door, their eyes widening as they saw Jason and Conner standing there, their mouths hanging open.
"Guys! What the fuck!" Dick immediately grabbed his comforter to cover Y/N.
"Dude! We didn't need to see that! What the fuck!" Jason shouted, his hands covering his face.
"This is the worst day ever," Conner mumbled, his eyes closed and shaking his head.
"Get the fuck out!" Dick growled, throwing a pillow at the two.
"Don't have to tell us twice!"
Both boys immediately turned around and ran out of the room, closing the door shut.
"Those two idiots. I'm gonna kill them," Dick grumbled, his arms wrapping protectively around the Omega.
"Well, we should've been more careful," Y/N said, sighing as he still was coming down from his orgasm and the shock of their friends walking in on them.
"Yeah, well. You were the one who decided to tease me the entire car ride," Dick defended.
"Whatever, I'm taking a shower. I feel sticky and gross," Y/N huffed, removing himself from the Alpha's grasp and heading to the bathroom.
"I'm joining you," Dick stated, getting up and following him.
"You're insatiable," Y/N shook his head, a smile on his lips.
"Only for you, baby," Dick winked, shutting the door behind him.
He was indeed insatiable, and it only got worse when they finally did the entire deed, Dick craving every touch and drop of the Omega he could get. It'd get even worse when his instincts and his jealous and territorial side would show when another Alpha would stupidly try to make a move on his Omega.
Now, that Dick had gotten a full taste of the Omega, outside and in, no one could compare. And the thought of someone else touching his Omega, made his blood boil.
Y/N's thighs had trembled as he lay back against the leather back seats of Dick's sports car, the Alpha's large firm, and sweaty body hovering over him as he snapped his hips forwards, inserting his full length inside the Omega. The car rocked back and forth with the force of his thrusts, making the tinted windows fog and preventing anyone from seeing the two teens inside.
"Mine. All mine," Dick growled, his nails digging into the Omega's plush hips, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing.
"Fuck, Dick," Y/N whined, his legs spreading wider, allowing the Alpha to reach deeper, his thrusts unforgiving.
Dick kissed the inside of the Omega's neck, bringing his sweaty body closer when he could feel it sliding up and retreating from his harsh movements. He pressed Y/N harder into the seats as he increased his pace, causing the Omega's moans and noises to reach a higher volume.
"Don't run from me," Dick grunted, his lips capturing the other's in a searing kiss as fucked into him at an even rougher pace.
He nudged Y/N's thighs apart with his hips that attempted to close from reflex, the Omega's body jolting with every deep, forceful thrust. Y/N let out a strained moan, his nails scratching down the Alpha's broad and muscular back as he was fucked like a slut, praying in the back of his mind none of their classmates would notice it steamy and rocking vehicle.
"No one else gets to have you. No one but me. You're mine, Y/N. Always have and always will be. Understand?" Dick's teeth scraped along the male's scent gland as he felt himself getting closer to his finish, "Say it. Say you're mine," He growled, his hands gripping the Omega's ass, pushing his legs further apart, and holding him in place, his cock drilling into the younger's abused and leaking hole.
"Yours," Y/N sobbed, his tears running down his cheeks, his face flushed red, his heart pounding as he was overwhelmed with pleasure, his body on fire, "All yours, Dick. Forever and always."
Dick smiled at the proclamation, eyeing the blew pendant necklace laying against the Omega's sweaty skin right over his heart, his chest puffing out, pride swelling within him, "My Omega," He purred, before delivering a few more thrusts, slamming into the Omega with a loud groan as he shot his load into the condom.
The pair lay there, panting, trying to regain their breath. Dick had his head tucked against the Omega's neck, his arms wrapped around him tightly, his knot keeping him connected.
"Are you satisfied now?" Y/N breathed, his eyes closed, his hands resting on the Alpha's broad and sweaty back.
"For now," Dick answered, smiling, pressing a kiss against the male's skin.
"I swear if anyone saw us and spread this around the school because you got a little jealous–"
"A 'little' jealous? I was not a little jealous. That guy was all over you and wouldn't take no for an answer. I had to step in," Dick defended.
"We were talking, Dick. He was asking me for notes about the history final. Not every Alpha or Beta that talks to me is going to be another Mike," Y/N explained.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shut up and cuddle me. I need affection," Dick pouted, snuggling the Omega.
Y/N chuckled, rolling his eyes, but did as asked, wrapping his arms and legs around the Alpha.
"There, better?"
"Much," Dick smiled with another soft kiss to the Omega's chest, right by his necklace.
"Good. Now, when are we getting you the necklace to match mine?" Y/N asked, his fingers tracing the lines of the muscles on the Alpha's back.
"Patience, baby," Dick chuckled, his hand rubbing up and down the smooth and soft body under him.
"Don't tell me to be patient," Y/N grumbled, pouting, "If you're Nightwing then I have to be Flamebird, which means you need a necklace that looks like a Flamebird. We're a mated pair, remember?"
"Oh I remember," Dick smirked, flexing his dick inside the Omega's warm walls.
"Fuck. Don't do that," Y/N whined, his legs tightening around the Alpha's waist, his back arching off the bed.
"Sorry, baby," Dick apologized, not sounding sorry at all.
"You're not," Y/N rolled his eyes.
"Nope," Dick grinned, his tongue licking up the Omega's neck.
Dick continued courting Y/N throughout the rest of the school year. As expected, they were each other's date to the prom where they proceeded to have hot, crazy sex at their hotel, and then came graduation.
To no one's surprise, other than maybe Y/N's, Dick proposed at their commencement ceremony, in front of everyone, the whole school watching. The Omega said yes, of course, and they were congratulated and cheered by their classmates and faculty.
Their parents were surprised, not expecting the couple to take the next step so quickly. They were happy for their sons, of course, but wanted them to be sure. Dick and Y/N agreed to both wait till after college to actually get married, fine with just being fiances' for now.
Someone had caught a picture of them kissing after Dick proposed and replaced the photo they had initially of them in the school's cutest couple section of their class yearbooks. The bunch of saps.
It was a love story straight out of the books—wait a second...
...
Nah.
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☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
🏍️ | Jason: The Rebel | 🏍️ • 🏈 | Conner: The Jock | 🏈
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1K notes · View notes
lisired · 6 months
Text
change your mind yet?
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pairing: haechan x (f) reader
genre/warnings: smut, enemies to lovers-esque, choking, spit kink, haechan’s lowkey a cocky piece of shit, he calls you a bitch Lol
summary: You’re going to kill him. You swear, You’re going to kill him. how did Liu Yangyang accidentally tell Lee Donghyuck—your greatest enemy—that you think he’s hot and that you’ve been in a dry spell recently? Now you have to avoid the inevitable confrontation, and worst of all, deal with the most stubborn person alive (who ironically thinks that you’re the most stubborn person alive).
word count: 4.6k
a/n: very much an oldie… not so sure about a goodie but i do love the ending. i had written this for a friend lol
You love him to bits, but Liu Yangyang is not your favorite friend right now.
Fairly, you one-hundred percent blame him for the predicament you’re currently in. You know he can be a blabbermouth at times and wouldn’t do it on purpose, but there’s no way you’d let him get away with quote-unquote accidentally telling your mortal enemy that you think he’s hot, and that you’ve been having trouble getting off.
It was yesterday evening that you were on FaceTime with your best friend, simply conversating as per usual. You were ranting comfortably to Yangyang about your troubles and how sexually frustrated you are, and he suggested you getting laid. That’s how the topic of Lee Donghyuck came. He was suggesting people, and when he asked you if you thought Donghyuck was hot, you replied yeah, but I wouldn’t touch his dick with laboratory safety gloves.
Fast-forward some hours later, he’s consentfully telling your mutual friend Renjun about your conversation, in hopes of playing matchmaker and finding someone for you to fuck. The problem? Donghyuck was around, and somehow overheard everything except the part about you saying that you’d never touch his egotistical dick.
So now you’re on campus, avoiding your egotistic mortal enemy like the plague.
Why do you dislike Donghyuck? The answer’s simple, he’s one of those guys. The ones that think they own the world, and that it revolves around them. The ones that think they can have any and every person they want, and treat people’s hearts like dirt. In short, you don’t think he’s a good person, no matter how hot he is.
When your final class rolls around, you think you might’ve successfully dodged him. You had another class with him today, but for some reason he was a no-show. Not that you care, his lack of presence was relieving. Then, you see him stroll into your Language Arts class, and the bright red cherry on top? He’s quick to snatch the seat directly next to yours. Oh, brother.
“Hey,” Donghyuck whispers. “Let’s talk.”
Your heart is racing, but you think you manage to conceal it. “In the middle of class?”
He shrugs, “Afterwards.”
You’re running out of here the second your professor dismisses you.
So, Donghyuck cornered you.
There’s no going anywhere as long as he has you like this, backed up against a wall, his hands on either side of you, and his gaze practically rooting you in place. You feel like you’re being stared down by Medusa, still as stone as you look into his eyes.
“So, let’s talk,” he grins, tilting his head. “A little birdie tells me you think I’m hot, you’re under a dry spell, and that you’ve been having trouble making yourself cum lately.”
“Did you hear the part where I said I wouldn’t touch your egotistical dick with laboratory safety gloves?”
“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t need my dick to have your thighs shaking, huh,” you’re blushing, actually blushing, cheeks aflame and your skin all hot. To make matters worse, Donghyuck’s hands move from beside you to sitting pretty on your waist, not moving lower or higher, cool texture of his rings pressing gently into your skin. The contact has you in an internal frenzy, but you chalk it up to you simply being touch-starved. “Don’t you see these lips, baby?”
Alas, you do see them. With his face as close as it is to yours, you can’t help but see them. They’re pretty and plush, kissable, and kind of do look like they could eat—no, no, no, no. You’ve been with your share of guys like Donghyuck, ones that like to talk about how good they are, yet are severely disappointing in reality. For you to even be considering sleeping with him just goes to show that you’ve struck rock bottom.
“D-don’t call me that,” you curse yourself for stammering, because he only finds it amusing.
“Why not? I think you like it, baby,” Donghyuck teases, “is that the problem? You like me, but you don’t want to like me? You don’t like that you know I could make you feel good?”
You loosen your gaze, unable to bare eye contact with him any longer, “Fuck you, Donghyuck.”
“Fuck me your fucking self,” he grabs your chin, making you look at him. If you can see anything in his eyes, it’s the unmistakable gleam of lust, so dark yet so tempting. “You want it, don’t you?”
God dammit, you do want it. But you refuse to have your name crossed out on his checklist, to be another notch in his belt. You know it would only boost his ego to have seduced the most stubborn person alive into fucking him, and you absolutely refuse to let that happen.
“No.”
Donghyuck raises his eyebrow, “No?”
“No,” you repeat.
You don’t know how you expected him to react, but he takes it coolly, dropping his hands and stepping away. Aw no, did you hurt his ego? The thought almost makes you laugh.
“Okay, but you know where to find me when you change your mind,” He smirks, and you hate how confident he sounds. Not if, but when. When you change your mind.
He strolls away, and you let him. You have bigger fish to fry, and you refuse to let some grade A fuckboy get in your head.
Unfortunately, you are not as in control of your thoughts as you’d like. This is bad, really fucking bad, you think. Last night, you actually successfully managed to cum on your own. That should be a good thing, but the reason you came is absolutely humiliating. An embarrassing, taking-it-with-me-to-the-grave secret.
You may or not may not have came to the thought of Donghyuck. How his fluffy hair would look clamped to his forehead, or how his forehead would look dripping with sweat. Imagining his fingers replacing your own, fingering you with his rings on, the coolness of them against your skin. But what really did it was probably the image of him between your thighs that was planted in your brain the second he offered himself to you. You thought of what good his lips could do, and how they’d look dripping all wet.
This is fucking terrible. You haven’t came in god knows how long, and the one time you do after forever, it’s because of the man you’ve sworn to hate until the day you die. Usually this is something you’d rant to your best friend about, but after what happened the last time you told him about your sexual frustrations, you decide you’re going to keep this one to yourself. If Donghyuck ever heard you came to the thought of him eating you out, he’d literally never in a million years ever let you live it down.
Today’s a new day, but you haven’t been able to shake off the shame, particularly because tonight’s Renjun’s party, and being one of his best friend’s, Donghyuck will undoubtedly be there. He’s posted it on his story and everything, not that you were checking. You overheard Yangyang talking about it. But either way, you don’t know if you’ll be able look him in the eye again.
“It’s a good thing you’re going out again,” Yangyang assures, walking next to you as you two stroll into the party, “maybe you’ll meet someone else to help you get out of your dry spell.”
He’s right. This is your chance to get laid, get over whatever that was with Donghyuck, and move on. You’re like, ninety-nine point nine percent convinced you’re only attracted to him out of sheer desperation. The measly zero point one percent comes from you being aware that you’ve thought he was attractive long before yesterday happened, but whatever. Forget it.
So you nod in agreement. Soon enough, you’ve settled with the party atmosphere. You’ve had a drink but you’re not drunk, and you’ve tried socializing but everyone seems so not your style, which is insane, because Donghyuck isn’t your style either. You don’t think. No, he’s not.
This is worse than you initially suspected. You can’t find anyone, and Donghyuck’s still running through your mind, being a complete and utter distraction and he’s not even here—
Speaking of the devil himself, “Hey.”
You spoke too soon.
“Ohmygod, if you’re here to try and seduce me again, I’m not interested,” you groan, hoping he gets the message and leaves you the fuck alone. At the same time you really don’t, but you definitely think you should.
Donghyuck raises his hands, “But I’m egotistical. I just came here to invite you to a game of truth of dare with the gang, lighten up a lil, won’t ya?”
You sigh. “Where?”
He leads you to the room where everyone is, and you make sure to scoot next to Ningning and Jennie, refusing to sit anywhere besides Donghyuck. All you hope now is that the bottle doesn’t land on you after him.
A couple of rounds fly by, and you’re still safe. You’re having fun, and the thought of him escapes your mind with ease. Even when the bottle does land on you, he doesn’t dare you to do anything crazy that you thought he would.
After Yangyang’s turn, the bottle lands on you. You’re not worried, because Yangyang’s your best friend, he wouldn’t dare you to do anything stupid.
Then he does exactly that.
“Seven minutes in heaven with Donghyuck!”
You’re going to kill him. You’re mentally plotting his murder right now. How you’re going to do it, when, and where you’ll hide his body. If he suspiciously winds up missing, you’re more than likely the reason why.
“Pucker up, buttercup,” Yangyang blows you a kiss.
You spit back, “Shut up, bubble guts.”
You hear him gasp in offense, but whatever he says is cut off by Donghyuck.
“Come on, babes. I can hear your lips calling my name,” he teases, and you groan, clutching your fist. You guess there’s no way out of this. Well, technically there is, but Renjun let Yangyang choose the punishment and he decided to make anyone who refused to do a dare eat a spoonful of sour cream. Mind you, sour cream by itself is disgusting, and this is probably why he and his stomach are frequently at war, so your safest option is getting in that room with Donghyuck for seven minutes. You don’t even have to kiss, you can just let everyone think you did.
So you follow him into the bathroom connected to Renjun’s room, and the second the door shuts, he has you backed into yet another wall. He grins, “Change your mind yet?”
You stand your ground. “No.”
“That’s fine, we can make out in the meantime and then see how you feel after seven minutes.” he replies nonchalantly.
Even though you’ve been thinking about it, you grimace. “Gross.”
“What? It’s not my dick, why do you act like you hate me anyways? Not that I’m really complaining, I like when things are hard.”
“Bet you do,” you grumble. “And if I’m acting, then I must be Viola Davis.”
“Eh, I’d give you Keanu Reeves.”
You glare. “On second thought, I’m almost willing to kiss you if it means you’ll keep quiet.”
“Well you’re in luck,” Donghyuck grins, “because that and giving head are the only ways to silence me.”
You cave in soon later, letting him pin you to the wall, your hands above your head as he kisses you hungrily. It kills you to learn that he’s a great kisser, because that means he’s actually good at something other than running his mouth and being the bane of your existence twenty-four seven. Though you don’t know how that’s possible, he’s gentle yet rough. Caring in his movement, though passionate in them too. The way he’s kissing you, you’d think he loved you.
In spite of your obvious attempts to try and touch him, to maybe run your fingers through his hair or hold his cheeks in your hands, Donghyuck doesn’t let you move. You can feel the teasing grin bloom from his lips, and conclude that it’s intentional.
Never in a million years did you think you’d be french kissing Lee Donghyuck of all people, yet here you are. You can’t say you don’t like it, though. That would be lying. While you’d never admit anything like it, the roughness in the way he kisses you has you throbbing.
Donghyuck’s lips are like a drug. You stop for a moment to inhale, and then you’re lips are latched back onto each other. Exhale again, then you take another drag, and the cycle repeats. You could do this for fucking ever.
Then, the timer chimes.
“Time’s up!” Chenle yells from outside the bathroom, and Donghyuck pulls always almost instantly, surprisingly readier than you are.
He looks hot as he pants, chest rising and falling then rising again. He smirks, “Change your mind?”
God fucking damn it. Time went by a little too fast for your liking. Your lips are swollen, but you want more of him, to feel him, to touch him, especially because he didn’t let you. You’re finally admitting to yourself that you want him, and you can’t ignore your cravings anymore.
“Donghyuck,” you whimper, not caring in this moment who hears you, “w-want you.”
He smirks. “I know, baby. You wanna prove to me how much?”
You nod. It’s pathetic, truly, but you need this at this point. So you let Donghyuck lead you out of the bathroom, and essentially the bedroom, ignoring the curious sounds coming from your friends. He leads you down the hall into a different, emptier room, closing and locking the door behind the two of you.
“On the bed,” he instructs.
You comply, the desperation that accompanies having not slept with someone in months and orgasming in weeks making you leap into action in an instant. Then there’s this raw part of you that has lusted after him before you fully came to terms with your desire, making you feel the way blood courses through your veins.
Donghyuck walks up and kisses you again, this time allowing both of your pairs of hands to roam freely as you strip one another almost bare. In an eager motion, you peel away his shirt and jeans, and he matches your yearn, leaving you naked. He pulls away from your lips to eye your body in awe.
“You’re a bitch,” he says, “but a beautiful one.”
“Really turned me on,” you deadpan.
He laughs yet pushes your back flat against the mattress, wasting no time in hovering above your body. The proximity has your heart racing a little quicker, a little faster than it was out of something like anticipation. Donghyuck dips his head but doesn’t kiss you like you anticipate him to, at least not on the lips. His lips scout your neck, soft and sweet against your flesh. He sucks at your skin, and your mouth gapes a little, sounding the most sweet gasp before he digs his teeth in suit. It makes you whimper aloud his name, which he clearly enjoys from the way he smiles.
Donghyuck repeats a course of similar actions as he mouth scoots lower, kissing and sucking and biting at your collarbone. Then he proceeds after some time, traveling lower and taking your breast into his mouth or his tongue swirling over your nipples. He trails kisses at your sternum, your stomach, all the while your breath getting caught up in your throat the more his mouth falls down your body. He’s so obviously teasing you, you know that much. He has a destination yet no rush to get there, taking his sweet, precious time as though he’s rich of it. And maybe he is, but your patience is running thin, and there’s only so much more of this you can take. “Hyuck,” you cry out of sheer desperation, “hurry up.”
“For someone who claimed not to want me up until ten minutes again, you really are desperate for me,” Donghyuck replies, drawing his mouth away, and hence all contact there was.
Refusing to simply take that, you retaliate, “For someone who claimed they could make me feel good, you’re doing a whole lot of nothing right now.”
“Keep running that sharp mouth and I’ll have to put it to better use,” Donghyuck answers. It isn’t like you’re against giving head, and it wouldn’t sound so bad if you weren’t so painfully deprived of the same satisfaction Donghyuck’s offered to give you. Sure, the speed—or lack of the—heightens the anticipation, but you need him to quit teasing or you’ll actually go insane.
“You keep acting like you hate me,” Donghyuck moves between your legs, and you aren’t prepared for what he does next. Something about the way he slowly smooths his single finger through your folds and draws it into his mouth for a taste is hot to you, thus making you wish he’d finally get on with it. “But your cunt is telling me that you love me. Love this.”
Well it isn’t like he’s wrong. You haven’t been this wet in ages, the dry spell you’ve been under being extreme and severe. Touching yourself has gone absolutely no where up until last night, when you somehow managed to cum harder than you have in a minute. You’re starting to think that having Donghyuck as your muse changes things.
Rolling your eyes, you sigh. You’d love this more if he stopped making you wait, but you don’t say that aloud, starting to suspect that the more you complain the longer he silently decides he’s going to test your patience. After what feels like an eternity of touching you everywhere but where you desperately need him to most, Donghyuck’s tongue draws a line between your thighs. Then another, and another. It progresses into more with no particular rush, despite the inevitable whines you can’t prevent from falling out. “Hyuck,” you cry again, wishing he’d stop playing games.
Donghyuck teases, “What’s the magic word?”
“Please,” you beg, “Please, please. I-I want, fuck no, I need this. Please, fuck—”
Your pleas are cut short the moment Donghyuck gives in, lapping at you with an unquenchable thirst and insatiable hunger. It’s so sudden that it gives you whiplash, and he has to grip your thighs to keep them spread a safe distance apart. He’s unstopping once he begins, tongue maneuvering as it pleases, roaming around freely though expertly. Had you known Donghyuck was as much bite as he was bark, you may have gave in to this much sooner than you did. Not only is he making you feel good, but he’s making you feel great. If you could taste heaven, it would be this.
Some moments pass, and the humiliating part is that it isn’t a lot of moments. Your thighs are trembling more with every lick, resulting in Donghyuck’s grip around your thighs to tighten out of consideration that you might successfully slip out of his grasp. You stomach turns, flips, and you’re vision is being clouded white, so close to an orgasm that it hurts. Donghyuck senses it, you know that he can, you can feel the arrogant smirk spreading across his lips once more. Just as you’re getting so close, as your orgasm is right there in arms reach, being dangled in front of you by a string, he snatches it away.
There’s yet another whine from you, but he answers your question before you even get the chance to ask, “Want you to cum when I fuck you, baby.”
Donghyuck removed his boxers, leaving them on the ground to be cared about later. His erection springs flat against his stomach in a way that makes you so suddenly inhale a breath, and you clench around absolutely nothing at all. You’re gawking at him as though you want to eat hm, and in a sense you do, but you can’t be blamed. It looks better than you could’ve ever imagined, decent length, decent girth. The real brag-worthy factor, however, is if he knows what to do with what god has blessed him with.
His dick nudges your slit. “Ready?”
Without wasting an eighth of second you give him the go-ahead, nodding your head at instance so fast it almost hurts your neck. He reacts equally as fast, prodding his dick between your folds and eventually your walls. It stretches you out perfectly, and the moment he’s in you Donghyuck’s moaning about how tight and wet you are. He takes a moment for himself before he starts to move, gliding in and out of you in an effortless motion.
So far, Donghyuck has lived up perfectly to your imagination and expectations, much better, even. You never would’ve thought he’d actually have the right to brag about how good he is in bed, but you see it now. He’s a god even, not that you’d ever tell him that to his face.
“So pretty, wish I could have gotten to you sooner. Always telling me that you hate me yet letting me fuck you like this. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’ve always wanted this,” Donghyuck says into your ear, and pecks your neck. “Are you always this needy? So desperate that you’ll let even me fuck you?”
“G-god, yes,” you don’t care about overpriding him anymore, just saying things because you aren’t in the right mind to care about anything other than his dick right now.
“Yeah?” He smirks. “Tell me how it feels, baby.”
You’re almost too fucked out to speak, just moaning and whimpering in a way you never thought you would for him, “Feels good, so… so good. Love it.”
If you were in the right mind to have shame, you’d be embarrassed by the way your number-one enemy is making you moan, and not just because of the volume, but because it’s his name your moaning so pathetically. Choruses of “Hyuck” sounding from you in plethoras, calling his name with no actual reason. You’re breathing in little shallow, quick breaths, too, mouth agape as your whimpers tumble into the air. It helps that Donghyuck’s also surprisingly vocal, calling your name back. To say the least, the way he moans your name is hot and gets you off a little more, in spite of you not needing the help. He has it all on his own, fucking into you deep and hard.
Donghyuck gropes your body too, heightening your pleasure by fumbling with your breasts or rubbing your clit with one of his free hands. He doesn’t focus on one particular part of you, showering your figure with pleasure and attention that makes the sex a billion times better.
“Can I choke you?” He asks, and the question catches you a little off-guard, but once you shake off the surprise, you give him permission.
Donghyuck’s hands slither around your neck, and he presses into your jaw with just enough force to make you look at him, and silently communicate that he wants you to keep your eyes him and his actions. His fingers press onto the sides of your throat, and you’re not sure what is a bigger turn on, the fact that he knows how to properly do it or the action itself. You think it’s a bit of both, you enjoy the thrill as you look defeated by your inability breathing, and the dark look in his eyes tells you that he enjoys it too, staring straight into your soul, watching you fail to take a breath.
He doesn’t loosen his grip on your throat as he commands, “Open your mouth.”
You aren’t in the mind to question anything, simply following instructions. His mouth hovers above yours, lips parting to spit in your mouth. The action takes you by surprise yet again, but you swallow almost instinctively, never looking away from him as you do.
He backs away once satisfied, smiling. “So good for me, baby.”
That makes you clench around him, which also brings Donghyuck the satisfaction of a moan or two. He loves the way you clench around him when he says things to you, a telltale sign that you’re enjoying this more than he knows you’d probably like to admit. This whole thing between you and him, him and you is that you’re too stubborn to admit your desire. It prides him that he finally managed to make you confess it, to admit that you’re no different from anybody else. That he can still get under your skin, and does a fairly good job at that. Not only does it make him feel good about himself, but it makes him feel good right now. Your reactions, all your moans and your fucked out face, the whimpering and the begging, it all gets him off more.
That knot in your stomach is forming again, and he has you clenching around him regularly soon afterwards, and he can tell that this time, it’s not because of his words. It’s because you’re about to orgasm. “I’m close,” you announce, once again feeling all the flips and turns twisting about in your gut. It’s a good thing Donghyuck’s close too, being obvious from the way his thrusts aren’t as smooth as they initially were.
“Me, too. C’mon baby, give it to me,” he urges you on, and you let him drive you to the edge.
He makes you see white again, vision fogging the color and your voice a high-pitched moan of his name as you climax, grinding your hips into his as you intend to ride out your orgasm. In some high, trance-like state, you’re not sure when he cums, but you know that it wasn’t that much longer after you did, and then he slid out, flopping beside you on the mattress. You lie there in near-silence that consists of nothing but heavy breathing, wondering to yourself if this actually happened. You don’t regret it, not now anyways, and it was definitely a satisfying way to break your dry spell, but now you’re starting to question if it was a bad decision. He hasn’t even asked if—
“Are you okay?” Donghyuck asks, seemingly needing a moment to catch his breath before he could gather words.
His words cut through your thoughts, leaving you to accept that maybe he’s not that much of an asshole. It’s the bare minimum, so he’s still an asshole, but not that much of an asshole. “Yeah,” you nod. “I’m good.”
“Good,” he grins. “So, you wanna ditch this party and go get some Chinese food? I’m starving.”
“You want to go get food with me?” you say, sounding wholly and utterly surprised and unconvinced. This man spends every other day of his life bothering you, and now he wants to pick up some food with you?
“I mean, if you don’t want free Chinese food that I’m paying for with my money, then fine, suit yourself, I’ll just get it by my—”
“No!” You interject, sitting up immediately as you scan the room for your clothes. “I’m down. Kinda hungry, too.”
“Good,” Donghyuck says. “Chop, chop. We don’t have all night, they close in like less than an hour from now.”
Standing out of bed to put your clothes on, you consider to yourself that maybe you’ve assumed a lot about him without getting to know him. He’s definitely got an ego on him, that a blind man can tell, but he’s not really an asshole.
“Yo, I just realized something.”
“What?”
Donghyuck smiles bashfully, “I don’t have my wallet on me.”
Nevermind. He’s one-hundred percent definitely an asshole.
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charliemwrites · 9 months
Text
Mafia!Price warm up because I am… so tired. I’ve had back-to-back events the last few days and ya bitch canNOT hang. So, while I rehydrate and wait for caffeine to work it’s magic, here’s this:
Part 1 here
No Content Warnings
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Mr. Price is the best boss you’ve ever had. He’s straightforward and blunt, but unfalteringly courteous. Likes things a certain way — his own way — but that’s nothing you’re unfamiliar with from rich men responsible for billions. At very least, he seems to respect when you challenge him.
“We’ve always done records this way,” he says.
“Yes, sir,” you answer serenely, “but that was before you had me.”
He stares you down and you beam right back, tablet balanced on your forearm. One beat, two. In the corner of your eye, you see Gaz shift. You tilt your head at your boss.
He sits back in his big office chair, thumb swiping over his index and middle fingers. A gesture you’ve been mentally cataloguing as “contemplative” — perhaps deciding if he’s annoyed or amused. You don’t let yourself get nervous seeing it; you’re good at your job and you know it. He’s going to know it too, by god.
“And what do you have to do with it, luv?”
Your smile stretches wider as you take that as an invitation to round his desk. He turns and shifts a bit to make room for you, eyebrows ticking up as you set a neatly paper-clipped report in front of him, highlighted for convenience.
“See here?” You point at one section, a list of finance records. “Inconsistencies that the accountants took two months to notice. Two!”
He grunts as you set it aside, face up, for further perusal and then show him the next set. Different highlighter (and a smiley face in the corner).
“And look here, doing it this way, we noticed the discrepancies within a week,” you explain.
He picks up the page, eyes scanning over it thoroughly before setting it down. Taps his index finger over the discrepancy (circled in bright red) twice.
“Would you happen to have the account — ah, thank you.”
You hum, smoothing the sticky note (hot pink, shaped like a heart) onto the page. “So what do you think, sir?”
He runs a hand down his face, palm rasping over his beard. But there is a grateful note to his gaze as he glances at you.
“We’ll be doing it this way from now on, then.”
“Thrilling, sir. I’ll send out a memo.”
He waves you off, frown already forming on his face. You politely leave his office, stop by the break room to make a fresh cup of tea (a dollop of cream only, no sugar) and knock on the closed door. It’s Gaz that opens it.
“For the boss,” you say. “Before heads start rolling.”
“You’re a doll,” he breathes, accepting the cup and slipping back inside.
You happily toddle back to your desk and begin calling appointment confirmations. You’ve got about a million emails and a hundred calls to make.
Working for Price also comes with some… eccentricities. For one, you have a driver now.
Usually Farah, sometimes her partner Alex. On the rare occasion it’s Gaz. They always usher you into the backseat. On rainy days (so, most days in the UK) they hold an umbrella over your head while you scurry into the luxury leather interior of whatever stupidly expensive ride you’re taking.
That was a non-negotiable when you and Mr. Price discussed the details of your employment contract with him. Something about safety…? You feel silly being driven to work as an assistant, but it was your first encounter with the Steel Gaze of Decision and it was unfortunately effective.
Not that you mind the rides! All three of your usual drivers are wonderful. So friendly and chatty. You love hearing about Alex’s niece and Farah’s hobbies, Gaz’s little “spats” with Soap. You spoil them with extra treats from whatever bakery you make them stop at for morning breakfast. (Always local, you love supporting small businesses and strong arm Price into doing so as well).
There’s the gun as well. You’ve only seen it once or twice, always discreetly hidden under his suit jacket. A shoulder holster, all black. Pretend that you don’t see it because… well, you’re not entirely sure it’s legal and you’d rather live in the blissful cloud of plausible deniability.
And speaking of — there’s his bodyguard. To be fair, bodyguards aren’t a new or weird presence with your bosses. Expensive men, they need protection. Ghost is a different kind though.
He always covers the lower half of his face — actually, he’s covered head to toe. Usually in black, sometimes with little skeleton or skull motifs. And he’s fucking big, which is saying something because Mr. Price isn’t a small man either.
Ghost hardly interacts with you, but he’s unfailingly polite when he does. Not talkative, but he holds doors for you, has walked you down to the car. Even once attitude-checked a guest that decided to be rude to you. Didn’t even say anything, just walked into the guy’s personal bubble and stared him down until he subsided. Then he turned, gave you a nod, and you squeezed his arm before toddling off to let Price know his appointment had arrived.
All around the vibes in the office are pleasant, if sometimes stuffy. A little odd. All of his employees are polite if not kind to you, and Price himself is a fair and reasonable man — at least with you.
(The first time you heard him raise his voice through the closed office door nearly scared the daylights out of you. He always uses a low, even tone when speaking to you, so to hear his voice booming like that was something of a shock. Even more shocking was when he opened the door — damn near throwing his “guest” out — before turning to you.
“Call Farah when you have a mo’, would you?” He asked, calm as you please.
You blinked, still having war flashbacks of your last boss. “Yes, sir.”
“Cheers, luv.”)
There’s also the “field trips” as you call them.
Mr. Price is something of a very “hands on” businessman (“micromanager” you tease when he’s in a good mood) who has a hand in several industries. One of them is shipping. Which means that sometimes you find yourself standing beside him in warehouses or at loading docks. And of course you have to go, you’re his assistant! You take meeting notes, provide information or report details. Basically act as his second brain while he reams out idiots or organizes plans.
You suck it up, but you rather hate the smell of low tide. And the occasional gusts of blood on the sea breeze from fishermen gutting their catches. Price catches you looking ill once or twice and at least makes an effort to keep things short after that.
“Poor thing,” Soap teases when you’re in the back of the car, fussing at your wind-swept hair. “Get a bit blown, did you?”
“MacTavish,” Price snaps.
That’s the other thing. Even the slightest hint of suggestive or inappropriate words at your expense are met with firm, almost harsh, reprimand from your boss. It does wonders for you nerves and your respect for him.
“Wish I’d known we were going to the docks,” you sigh, carefully picking at pins to fix your hair. “I would have used more hairspray.”
“Thought I told you?” Price says.
“No, sir, you did not,” you answer, long-suffering. “You know you can put it into the scheduling app, right?”
He blinks. “Scheduling app.”
You blink back at him. “Oh, dear. Here, look at this.”
You spend the entire ride back to the office showing him how your scheduling software works so that you don’t have to deal with any more surprise dock visits.
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avocado-writing · 19 days
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Not sure if this is enough to go off of but I loved the poly!poolverine fic where they rescued the reader. I was wondering if we could get some more of them being protective of the reader 🙏🏻
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The bar is pretty crowded tonight. You nurse a rum and coke and hope Logan and Wade are able to find you in the corner booth you managed to snag, because you know the second you go to order another some opportunistic patrons will take your spot - and you’ve been on your feet all day at work so there’s no way in hell you’ll let that happen.
You take a sip. It’s warm now, ice long since melted in the heat of the room. You grimace at the taste as someone slides onto the bench next to you. 
It is not one of your boys. 
“Hey, baby.”
He’s big. Kinda guy who goes to the gym every day big, which isn’t inherently bad - but from the way he uses his size to press up against you there’s a little bit of unease rising in your chest. He puts his elbow on the table so that he can rest his jaw in his hand, biceps flexing in the tight shirt he wears. 
“I’m waiting for someone,” you say, as calmly as you can, hoping this will deter him. It does not. 
“So? We can have a little talk, can’t we? Not hurting anybody.”
His hand goes to cover yours where it rests on the table. You snatch it back. He frowns. 
“Dunno who you’re waiting for, but they probably shouldn’t have left you here alone. Looks like they don’t care about you, honey.”
“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, annoyed, deciding it’s not worth it. He won’t go so you will. You slide out the free side of the booth - but you’re forced to stop when he grabs your wrist. 
“I wasn’t done talking to you yet,” he says. Okay. Now you’re panicking. You manage to shake yourself free of his grasp and quickly push through the throng of people, hoping to lose him in the crowd. No such luck. He knows where you’re heading. 
The air is cold on the street as you speed up; not running, never running, that might incite a chase. He’s on your heels anyway. 
“Hey, are you just gonna keep ignoring me?”
“I told you I’m not interested!”
He grabs you again, harder this time. A grip you can’t break free from. 
“You know, you should learn not to be such a bitch —”
“Oh! Isn’t this fun! Sorry to interrupt this little show of misogyny in action but it’d be great if you could let go of our pookie.”
You’ve never been more relieved to hear Wade’s voice. Suddenly you’ve got someone either side of you: the brick which is Logan on your left, and the snark which is Wade on your right. 
The guy who’s holding you does not drop your arm. He frowns. 
“Who the fuck are you?”
“They’re who I was waiting for,” you say quickly, as if this will deter him. The man laughs, loudly, cruelly.
“Sorry, you’re in some kinda threesome with this old fucker and whatever this dude is? Fuck, honey, you really need someone to show you what a real man—”
He does not get a chance to finish. Logan’s fist has collided with his face with such ferocity you can hear his nose break. The man yelps and staggers backwards, you bring your hand to your chest for safety. 
“Should’ve let go, bub,” he mutters, massaging his knuckles. Wade deflates. 
“Aw, I wanted to get the first hit in!” He peers over at where the guy is laid out flat. “Go on, get back up. If I don’t throw a punch it emasculates me, and I’m very sensitive about it.”
You roll your eyes, tugging at his sleeve. 
“Let’s just go, guys. I don’t think he’s gonna follow us.”
“One sec.”
Wade strolls over and puts his boot on the guy’s chest, pushing down until he’s wheezing.
“You wanna apologise?”
The guy groans out a sorry, and you give a curt nod when Wade turns to see if you’ve accepted it.
“Don’t do this bullshit again, with anyone, or I’m gonna find you, rip your dick off, then feed it to my adorable, hideous dog.”
They cage in around you as your turn, two loyal hounds at your beck and call. You throw a couple of glances over your shoulder as you leave but it’s as you suspected: the guy remains on the cold concrete. When you’re far enough away to feel safe they slow to a stop. 
“You okay?” Logan asks, lifting your chin with a finger so that he can get a good look at you. You nod. 
“Yeah. Thanks for being there in time.”
“I’m sorry baby, we should have got here earlier, but peanut here tore a guy’s arm off so we had to go and clean up first—”
“Oh god, stop,” you say, pulling a face. You don’t want to know about their line of work, very happy for the business and personal life gulf to be a wide one. “Let’s go get some pizza and head home.”
“Anything you want,” says Logan, squeezing your hand. 
Anything where you’re between them is what you want. Safe and happy, they’ll make sure you’re both. 
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