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iniquitousyearning · 2 months ago

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SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS

dec 4th. tom riddle — bondage, begrudgingly!sub tom.

RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. | 2024

summary: revenge is sweet—but getting tom riddle to beg is so, so much fucking sweeter.

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, reader gives tom a lust potion in retribution, PIV, desperate sex, tom so out of sorts he doesn’t even know what he’s saying, so much teasing it’s painful, dirty talk, light bondage, choking.

All is fair in love and war.

This might not be love, but it isn't just war, either. It's something messier, something darker, something with teeth. Every time you and Tom Riddle play this game it seems to follow the same trajectory, almost like a dance—step, feint, clash, retreat—a push and pull, a ritualistic give and take until someone takes a little too much and the tension boils over to something like this.

A locked door. A stolen breath. His body pressing yours into some surface and his hands on your throat, or in your hair, or at your waist with—

"You did something to me." Growled at your neck.

Right now, expectedly, is no different.

"What could I possibly have done to you?" You drawl, bored blowing off your breath. "The great Tom Riddle himself."

You want to sound dismissive, condescending—just enough to light a match to his already fraying patience—but Tom is too keyed up to take the bait, and that alone thrills you. You can feel the heat radiating off him. Smell the clean, addictive scent of his hair, the musk of dark magic religiously woven into his skin.

He smells intense, and it makes you dizzy.

Makes you reckless.

"You’re funny," he exhales, the force of it stirring your hair. He's ripping off his jacket now, rolling up his sleeves like he's ready to wrestle the devil himself. "This is your idea of revenge, isn't it?"

There's a shrug, something vindictive set in your shoulders just to get under his skin that much more—spurred on by the sheer state of him before you; those perfect curls a mess, onyx eyes burning with something primal.

"This, meaning what, exactly?" You watch the corded tension in his neck tighten as he shoves his hair back, hands visibly unsteady. "You'll have to be more specific."

He lets out a stifled groan from somewhere deep in his chest at that—he's struggling, and he knows you know it, a delicious little factoid that has his patience stretched so thin it's almost see-through—

"You're enjoying this," he snarls, forcing himself over to a nearby loveseat and slumping down into it. His voice is half-hoarse, strangled by the effort it's taking him to keep this much distance between you. "You—fuck."

There we go.

Unable to stall the grin off your lips any longer, you move forward with something predatory—something devious in each step perfectly placed just to spite him—a deliberate sway of the hips, the slight rise and fall of your chest—anything, really, just to break him that much faster.

He's right. This is your revenge.

"Oh, Tom," you creep around behind his chair, lips leaning toward his ear. "Are you feeling alright? You're looking hot."

You take note of the way his jaw pulses as he grinds his teeth. The way that one simple word from your mouth—spoken in the type of low, sultry tone that could make even a dead man hard—affects him.

"You're wicked," his head falls back to look up at you, lips glistening like he's salivating over the mere sound of your voice. Still, he's fighting it—still trying to deny you the satisfaction. "Did you know that?"

"You love it," you murmur, fingers slipping their way over his shoulders, down his chest. You lean closer, catching sight of the sharp bulge straining against his trousers. "Look how much you fucking love it."

Another stifled groan.

"You don't want to do this, sweetheart," he hisses—and there's the nickname, the nickname you've told him you hate. His way of retaliation. "Not now."

"And why not?" Your fingers dip lower, tracing over the definition of his abdomen. "Because you're not in control? Or because I am?"

He's fighting himself—you see the war play out on his face in the way his brows knit together—the way his lips part briefly only to swallow back whatever words were about to crawl out of them.

He's never been very good at being at anyone's mercy, least of all yours.

"You think you're in control," the words rasp against his throat, as if speaking them too loud might shift the balance. "You're delusional."

"Maybe," you whisper, lips brushing his cheek, the curve of a smirk curling into your voice. "Maybe I'm absolutely batshit." Your hand slips downward, slowly, over his stomach to his belt, fingers ghosting the buckle. "But we both know why you dragged me in here, Tom. Don't we?"

He scowls.

"You—"

The moment you brush against his bulge with the barest touch, his hips jerk forward—words disintegrating, raw instinct betraying his restraint.

"God, look at you." You nearly choke on the heat between you. If this isn't the sexiest fucking thing you've ever seen. "Just admit it, Tommy. Admit you need me to fi—"

You don't get to finish. Something in him snaps—

"Fucking—" he's moving on auto-pilot, hands reaching up to seize you and yank you closer. "—fix this, then."

In a blink, you're in his lap with his grip on your hips and he's growling—one hand slipping up to the back of your head to fist your hair and force your mouth to his before you get the chance to snap back—

And as soon as your lips collide it's a fight for dominance—teeth clashing as your tongues tangle, both of you biting and pulling at each other like animals. You're grinding against him and he's excruciatingly-hard beneath you and you can practically hear the intensity of it, both of you caught up in the sheer feral force of this—no rhyme or rhythm, no control—just hunger, desperate and unrelenting, like something unleashed that neither of you can put back in its cage.

After all but an eternity of this, you wrench back with force, breaking the kiss and shoving yourself upright. His head falls back against the chair, chest heaving, his lips slick and parted, pupils blown wide and glittering with fury—or lust. You’re sure it’s a bit of both.

He's trying to gain control, his hand still fisted in your hair, arms trapping you in place like he thinks he can still win this.

But you see him now, raw and undone, and you know better.

"You want me to fix this," you murmur, skating your fingers over his chest lightly enough to make him twitch. "Then put your hands on the armrests."

He wants to fight that, you can tell—wants to yank you back into him, wants to wield that weapon of a tongue—but other things take precedence now, like you, here, on his lap—so close to giving him everything he needs.

You think, to him, the demand must sound less like an order and more like salvation.

He all but slams his hands down onto the armrests.

You smirk. "Good boy."

Unsurprisingly, he scowls again, a dangerous flash in his eyes—but that doesn't stop his hips from jerking greedily when you grind down against him—fingers digging into the leather underneath them, twitching like they want to make you do it again.

That doesn't escape your notice.

"Mm. Just incase." Pulling out your wand, you cast a spell that binds his wrists to the chair. "I know how you are."

His expression shifts instantly, lips curling back into something like a snarl as he yanks at the invisible binds. They don't budge—your work is seamless—his own spellwork mastered and turned against him.

"I'm going to fucking digest you," he spits, all venom and heat, eyes blazing as he pulls harder. "When I get out of this chair, you'll—oh, you'll beg for-"

You shut him up with your mouth, crushing your lips to his. It's all teeth and tongue, desperate and wild, as your nails rake down his chest and he arches into you—

"Who says I don't like it when you make me pay, baby?" You breathe, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw a groan from deep in his throat. "Maybe it's my favourite part."

For a moment he doesn't respond—he knows that's true. You love this game too much not to toe the line when possibilities arise. He's pulling uselessly at the binds again as you roll your hips against him, dragging him further into ruin.

"You are," he chokes out, head tilting back as your teeth scrape along his jaw, "an infuriating, wicked little witch."

You huff against his skin, against the pulse point at his throat and the sensitive area under his ear—he's squirming—making strangled, animal sounds that have you seeping through your panties.

"You're only just noticing?" You’re drinking in his hypersensitivity for all it's worth. "You're losing your touch."

He scoffs, or tries to—it comes out closer to a moan stuck between shallow breaths.

"Noticed it...the day I met you," he gasps, hips jerking up as you rock against him. "But, fuck—you've gotten a hell of a lot worse."

Perhaps he's right. Perhaps it's the company you keep—specifically, the one pinned beneath you.

"You're just mad I'm beating you at your own game," you’re grinding down harder, fingers drifting to the buttons of your blouse. "You're a terrible loser."

"And you're—" he starts, but his words falter when you pull the last button free and shrug the fabric off your shoulders, exposing black lace and soft skin. "—an insufferable winner."

"I think the real problem," you toss your shirt to the floor, hands returning to slide down his chest again, undoing his buttons now. "Is that you secretly love losing to me."

You'd think that would earn another snarl from him—or perhaps a sharp retort about how he'd never lose to anyone, or how he’d never enjoy being at your mercy—but he's clearly too far gone to keep up with even that as he watches you, all but trembling at your touch.

"Stop—“ he twitches when your fingers glide over his exposed chest, trailing lower. "—talking."

"Make me," you make your way to his belt buckle, taking your time to undo it, sliding the leather free before moving to the zipper of his pants, dragging it down even slower. "Oh, wait. You can't."

He’s helpless to fight the growl you force out of him at that—a vicious sound that makes you clench. His fingers tighten around the armrests, yanking hard against the bonds holding him in place. Useless, you both know, but it doesn't stop him from trying, from straining against them like he might will them to break through sheer desperation alone.

He exhales through his teeth. "Stop teasing."

"Now where's the fun in that?" you dip your hand below the waistband of his boxers. He jerks beneath you as your fingers tease just enough to make his breath catch. "You should be grateful l'm taking pity on you—" your tone as soft as it is mocking, "—being oh so kind to help-"

Another groan, another almost snarl. "Stop. Teasing."

Oh, how the tables turn. You know precisely how he's feeling—you've been here like this, with him, a million times before. It’s the sweetest torture. One you’re sure he doesn't want you to stop—not really. Not with a lust potion dripping from his pores.

He fucking needs this.

"And what happensssss," you drag your words out as your fingers glide slow, featherlight strokes up and down his rock of an erection. "If I don't?"

His response is a wrecked string of profanity—some of it strangled, some of it guttural, and none of it in English. He's not even remotely coherent anymore, and you're not surprised. Eloquence had abandoned him long before you'd even stepped into the room.

"I will—" he hisses through clenched teeth as you tease your thumb over his leaking tip, "— fuck—I will fuck your ass so hard—“

Now that gets a moan from you—the filthiness of his words, at the way his voice drops so dark and low it should probably be a fucking felony. He's swearing, writhing, desperate, and you're absolutely dripping from it—from the way Tom Riddle has unraveled into this devastating, feral thing underneath you.

"Is that what you're thinking about right now?" Another murmur, lips brushing against his ear as you shift to tug his pants and boxers down. "Fucking my tight ass? Punishing me?"

"Without mercy," he spits, breath hitching as you free him—his cock springing out, thick and throbbing, twitching in time with his shallow gasps. "Fuck—"

You pull away to get a better look at him—and god, the sight almost makes you lose your mind. The man always so put together, always so self assured and smug and in control of every goddamn thing—reduced to this.

"Such a vulgar mouth, for such a pretty face," leaning forward, you lick a slow, deliberate stripe up his neck. He tastes like sweat and sin. Just how you like him. "Tell me more."

"Fuck," his head tips back involuntarily, exposing his throat to you like it's instinct. He's twitching as you grind your slick heat along his shaft, soaking him, teasing him until his hips buck up against you. "Put me inside you—"

You're barely holding onto yourself, every roll of your hips against him leaving you dizzy and aching—but you drag it out, grinding down harder.

"That's an order, isn't it?" You breathe, catching his earlobe between your teeth. "You giving me orders now?"

"I'm giving you pleas," he rasps. "You fed me a potion that's made me so hard it physically aches, and now you're sitting here—fucking teasing me—"

"Retaliation," you reply with a smile. "You're the one who thought it was a good idea to feed me a truth serum before dinner at Malfoy's."

That night still lingers in both of your minds—things involuntarily said that can't ever be unsaid. Things that still make Draco avoid your eyes at every turn.

"A mistake," he grits out. In any other moment, you know he'd be smirking. "A mistake—I'll admit it, fuck-"

"You're not the type to make mistakes," it’s a true statement, one overridden by the feeling of his dick twitching as your hips still, going maddeningly idle. "You wanted the Malfoy’s to know I'm yours. And now, well, now I have to show you that you're mine."

There’s a moments pause at that. One that makes you realize just how loud your pulse is pounding in your ears. Tom looks at you, holding your eyes until—

"I am," he concedes, finally throwing in the towel with a gasp that's half desperation, half devotion. "Yours. So fucking take what's yours."

"Oh, baby," you purr, cupping his cheek in your palm. He leans into it without realizing, like he's starving for your touch. "I always do."

And with that, you rise up—slick soaked inner thighs leaving damp spots against his half pulled down trousers—humming with a smirk as you slide a hand over his chest, nails raking over his skin, holding him down against the chair—

"Be still," an order. "Or I'll take it a hell of a lot slower."

His whole body shudders at that—but does what he's told and keeps still—chest swelling with each shallow breath as he watches you—dark eyes flicking from your lips to your tits to your cunt—muscles straining and wrists firm against their binds.

"Just—do it," he mutters through parted lips and clenched teeth—squeezing his eyes shut. "Please."

The world stops. Time freezing to nothing. You swear you'd forgotten how to breathe.

Please. Like it's a holy thing, a sacred word to be used only in worship. Like he's said something he's never uttered in his life. Please. Like a prayer, like a begging benediction. You'd never loved the sound of anything from his lips quite like you do that.

You will hear it again. You long to make him say it until he forgets every other word he knows.

"How could I refuse that?" His eyes fly open as you reach down, gripping his aching length and gliding the head against your soaked slit. "Fuck, you're so big. So hard."

"Hard," he echoes as his hips buck involuntarily, seeking more friction. "Because this is—torture."

"And whose fault is that, Tommy?" You taunt, just barely sinking down, letting the tip of him sit against what you know he wants. "Oh, that's right. Yours."

"Mine," he grunts before his patience finally snaps in half and he jerks his hips up—shoving his cockhead inside you with a strangled moan. "Fucking mine."

Oh, Merlin help you.

Your head falls back with a moan, eyes slipping shut as the sensation steals the breath from your lungs. He stretches you in the way only he can, and for a moment, you think you should punish him for disobeying you by taking back control—but you can't bring yourself to care about anything other than how fucking good it feels.

"Yours," you breathe, rolling your hips to take him just an inch deeper. "All yours."

"More," his voice cracks, the veins in his neck straining. "Take more. Please."

Theres the word again—please. It makes you weak, makes you greedy. Makes you break and give in on the sheer knowledge of how much it fucking pains him to say it.

"Oh, gods"" you moan, shifting your hips to take him deeper still, inch by aching inch. "Fuck."

"Take it," he sneers, as if it's his turn to taunt you. Even like this, he's still the same bastard. "You can take more than that."

You curse lowly and sink your nails into his chest for it—because it's the kind of challenge you can't win, even like this you know you'll still lose. He knows it too.

"I can," you hiss, sinking another inch deeper, and then another. "But can you?"

"Can I?" There’s a mocking lilt to his voice that knows. "Release my wrists, and we'll see."

Christ. That's a question you don't want to answer because you know anything other than yes would be a lie. It's tempting. You know as soon as you let him go he'd put those beautiful hands to use—he'd take back control and you'd immediately let him. Like a lamb to the slaughter.

Even if this is supposed to be his punishment.

"Be," you gasp, sinking down all the way and clenching tight as he kisses your cervix. "Quiet."

He lets out a sharp, strangled curse—a guttural string of something you think might either be Latin or Parseltongue—something rough and beautiful all at once—and you decide, right then, that it's undoubtedly the most sinfully delicious thing you've ever heard.

"I love it when you swear," you manage to breathe out through moans, rolling your hips and savouring the stretch, the ache, the impossible fullness of him inside you. “And I love it even more that it's in languages I don't know—makes me wonder what you're saying."

"Things that'll get me slapped," he grunts, and the tone he uses is the one that promises trouble—trouble, if you let him go. "Or hexed, perhaps."

"Mm. I should hex you right now. I’m considering it," you’re gasping between moans, pleasure buzzing in your brain. "So hard."

"I think, right now," the words split between a groan as your nails leave faint red lines on his shoulders—as you clench around him again, dragging your slick walls up and down his shaft in rhythm. “If you tried to hex me, I’d let you. If it meant you’d keep going.”

You almost take him up on it. You love him like this far too much. So much it’s almost pathetic.

"Good boy." You force the words out, fighting through the sting on your cervix every time he bottoms out inside you, slamming against it. "So. Fucking. Good."

"Jesus Christ," he chokes, muscles taut as the veins in his neck strain. His hips jerk up to meet you at every bounce, greedy for more. "Don't stop."

"Oh, I won't," you dig your nails deeper into his skin for balance. The sting shoots through his body, his reaction delicious. "Not until l've made you swear to every god in the sky."

"Shouldn’t take long," he hisses through his teeth, shoulders cresting as your pace grows faster, more erratic. "I'm practically praying now."

"Good," you breathe, thighs burning as the heat coils tight and relentless inside you, every roll of your hips making you feel fuller, wetter, closer to falling apart. "I want to hear you pray my name."

"You're sadistic," he hisses. "Fuck."

"Pot, kettle," you taunt, biting lightly at the curve of his neck—not hard enough to bruise, but just enough to make him feel it.

The sound he makes—half moan, half growl—is filthy.

"Oh, you like that, don't you?" You murmur, dragging your lips toward his ear, breath molten. "You like pain. I know you do."

"I'd like to inflict some right about now," his voice breaks as you nip at his earlobe. "My hands on your throat. That smart fucking mouth—"

"Mmm," you hum, rolling your hips slower, deeper. "And what would you do with it?"

"Fill it," his voice is broken, head tipping back as his body begs for release. "Fuck. I'm so fucking close."

"You're filthy when you're desperate," you whisper, dragging your hand up to his throat, fingers wrapping around it, squeezing just enough to make his breath hitch. "I fucking love it."

His eyes flash—for a moment, you're not sure how he'll take it—your hand curling around his neck, fingers pressing against the pulse hammering beneath his skin. The unpredictability of him—always teetering between fury and something far more intense—makes you hesitate, even in this state. You wonder if he'll snarl, buck you off, or somehow counteract the spell to rid of the restraints entirely—

But all he does is swallow against it, hips jerking up, cock pressing bruisingly deep—dark eyes fixing on your lips, wild and glassy with want—

And then, he fucking grins. "Tighter."

"Freak," you moan far too loudly, heat pooling low in your belly as you oblige, tightening your grip. You bounce faster, adrenaline fuelling you, panting growing sharper with every wild bounce. "Cum for me."

"Like I have a choice," he rasps, voice shredded, his teeth gritted as his eyes squeeze shut. "Fuck—ffffff—"

The sound he makes when he finally breaks—guttural, filthy, your name torn from his lips—is fucking devastating. Devastating enough to drive you directly to your own orgasm, eyes rolling back and crying out words you aren’t even aware of as he shudders and jerks and tenses underneath you.

"Oh, fuck-yes," you breathe, riding him through it, clenching hard until the aftershocks start to fade out, as you slow your pace. “Tom—“

"God," he gasps, his head falling back in exhaustion, voice stumbling over the word. "God. Fuck."

The incoherence coming from his mouth is a treat—and through your fog, for only the most fleeting of moments, you wonder who exactly he's praying to when he says that.

His chest is rising and falling like he's just run miles, sweat-slick skin glowing in the low light. His head rolls forward, eyes still heavy-lidded, and when they meet yours, there's something feral still dangling in their depths. A lingering hunger that makes your breath hitch.

"That's what you wanted, wasn't it?" He finally speaks after he finds whatever oxygen is left in the room. "To ruin me?"

You're still seated on him, still full of him, and even now, you can feel him twitch inside you. Strong potion.

You exhale with a smirk, feeling your pulse slow. "You're still in one piece, aren't you?"

He laughs—dark, deep, and utterly sinful. It's the kind of laugh that promises you haven't won anything at all. His wrists flex against the bindings, and you swear the leather creaks.

"For now," his tone is almost gentle, but the fire in his eyes betrays him. "But if you think I'm going to let you walk away after this..." he grins. "You're more delusional than I thought."

Oh, Tom. If you only knew.

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gojoest · 18 days ago

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part of the nerdtoru blurbs / find introduction post here

your phone screen lights up with a new notification.

[ g.stru liked your photo ]

huh? — you blink twice in amusement.

interesting…

…but when you opened your instagram the notification was already gone along with the like that he, the nerdy boy from your class (gojo satoru), had accidentally left while scrolling through your pictures. an awkward thumb fumble, a failed attempt at scrolling down that resulted in an unfortunate double tap. it seems like this genius of a boy just can’t help but keep messing up.

how cute.

you smile. this confirms a big portion of your suspicions — the nerd definitely has a crush on you, you think.

he wasn’t even following you on instagram, yet here he was — secretly stalking your page. just like the quick, chaste glances he would often steal from you in class and around campus, thinking you wouldn’t notice if he played his cards right. right?

but the boy keeps getting caught.

now, you wonder — what if you made your account private? would he request to follow you then?

…meanwhile, on the other side of the phone, that very nerd was seized with panic. hyperventilating because he got his pants on fire…

“fuck— no! NO! you idiot, IDIOT”, satoru agonizes, leaping to his feet and almost dropping his phone. “unlike, unlike, unlike—“

he quickly unliked your photo, tossed his phone aside and plopped back on his bed. hands covering his face, cheeks flushed and burning red while dozens of self-deprecating adjectives left his mouth, hoping that he reacted quick enough for you to not see how badly he fucked up this time.

it was rare for him to feel this anxious over something. over anything, really.

well, except… you.

he fell for you on orientation day. it was then when he learned what it meant to sweat and be nervous in the presence of another person. he thought, maybe, over time he’d get over it. but two years into it and that persistent, fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach was still there.

after a few minutes of excruciating dejection, he picked his phone back up to check your profile, again.

[ 🔒 this account is private ]

and so he knew — he was caught red-handed.

now he had two options — to either drop out of university and move to the other side of the world, as far away as possible, or to muster the courage and face his biggest fear but deepest desire that was you.

…meanwhile, on the other side of the phone, a devious smile grew bigger…

[ g.stru requested to follow you ]

. . . to be continued <3

#nerdtoru #ઈઉ — ai writes #[ ♡ ] — satoru

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mixingandmelting · 27 days ago

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hey so for the batboys, what kind of romantic accidents do you think happen to them? Like imagine Nightwing falling on top of s/o and you think it’s gonna be romantic but s/o just kneed him in the dick by accident and s/o banged their head on the floor?

Dick:

Ow. Ouch. Mother of all owies and her children. He’s in so much pain. A groan slips past his lips as he collapses all the while clutching where it hurts the most. To much of his shame as a vigilante and dog owner, he didn’t notice Haley’s toy lying there on the floor. And you happened to be standing right in front of him. It would’ve been more romantic had his lips landed on yours, maybe even going as far as starting a make-out session. Not getting mini-him kneed out of the reflex of your head slamming into wood.

“Ow… Oh my god, Dick are you okay-?”

Glad to hear his misery relieves your pain from the snort you let out. Most definitely at him in fetal position, recovering from the unwarranted attack. He really does love you. Call him a sap all you want; he wouldn’t trade you for anything else in the world, all his desires and everything he dreams you take the shape of and embody. And he knows you feel the same way. Or so he hopes. Right now is the moment of truth. Whether you’ll spare him the embarrassment and comfort him like all other good significant others. He means, it is technically your fault so-

“Do, ahem, do you want ice? For you know… down there?”

Oh for crying out loud.

“No.” He throws a feeble glare at you over his shoulder.You do realize he can see your shoulders shaking, right? Few minutes later and a nice back-patting session (much to his relief and humiliation), he’s sulking. Hardcore sulking. Leading to the repeat of what happened prior to the incident, this time with roles reserved where you’re following him around like a lost duckling and him continually walking away with his arms crossed.

Jason:

Strings of curses leave his mouth, pain throbbing from his nose. That had to be one of the hardest headbutt he ever experienced. He was trying to prevent you from banging your head onto the corner of the table after he saw you trip. But as he pulled you toward him, his foot got stuck in the bottom ledge of the sofa that he failed to remember was right behind him. Bet on your breath mingling with his, face too close for comfort. In all the wrong ways.

Seems like you’re faring better than him, slowly sitting up on top of him and rubbing your head.

“Oof, you alright Jaybi- Oh my god you’re bleeding!”

He pulls the hand that he was using to rub his nose away to check. Huh, he really is. He lets out a grunt which you mistake as him hurting when it’s from losing your warmth abruptly when you slide off him. He wanted you to stay, not leave. He can never get tired of your presence, always wanting to bask in it 24/7. Hence the scowl behind his hand when he fails miserably to grab and stop you before getting up to start the process in stopping the bleed.

Soon you come back with tissues, ice, and wet towels. Stuffing tissues into the hand that’s cradling his nose, you hold the ice to the back of his neck with one hand while the other is wiping the rest of the blood off.

You don’t notice the devious gleam in his eyes, too busy inspecting if he’s injured anywhere else . Good. With a satisfied smirk plasters his face, you yelp from surprise as he pulls up and plops you down back on his lap. Yep, he already feels much better.

Tim:

He can hear his heart beating in his ears, the other four of his senses going into overdrive. You’re so close, a sheet of paper’s width away from him. Should he do it? Maybe he should do it. Lean a little bit closer and he would have his lips on yours anyways, so why not?

“Ow!”

“Who the- What? Ti-, no, Re-, no, Babe?”

He stumbles back and wheezes. He probably deserved getting punched in the guts. He saw you on your phone and a second away from bumping into one of Penguin’s men. So he panicked, okay? Grabbing and caging you in a random alley, against the brick wall before the worst case scenario happens. He doesn’t blame you, having everything occurred in the spur of the moment. And How would you know it was him anyways?

Or that’s what he tells himself to feel better anyways. He used to tease you were made of stone whenever you jabbed him or did something silly. Now He’s starting to believe it’s true because man, despite you always being sweet and tender to him (to which he’ll always crave and cherish), you pack a mean punch.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know it was you and I thought I was getting kidnapped-“

“It-it’s fine.” Another wheeze. “I should’ve told you it was me.”

Your eyes say otherwise when you somehow manage to lift his shirt showing Purple and blue blooming on his side. An argument ensues with him listing reasons why he didn’t need to get checked by Alfred as he didn’t need his “siblings” getting their hands on more black mail. Until you pull him towards you. Needless to say, he walks out of the alley with you hand-in-hand, heading towards a nearby urgent care.

Duke:

The two of you are sitting by the hospital’s entrance. Your eyes are puffy with his belongings in your lab. He’s simply holding on his crutches. All he wanted was to experience his heroic moment of saving his loved one. And today, the opportunity came after school. Served on a silver platter and everything. You had slipped on the last few steps of the stairs and he, like usual, was waiting for you at his usual spot that’s next to them. He, thankfully, was able to catch you. Just. Not in his arms.

“Duke!?”

“I’m okay…”

“Like hell, you are!”

You were inconsolable during the ride and after he got admitted to the ER. He kept telling you it was fine, that it was on him had he not second-guessed at the very last second on what posture he was supposed to take on. But no matter what he said, you were dead silent, not making eye contact with him. It only got worse when the doctor told him he not only fractured his ribs, he sprained his ankle. His heart broke when he saw your hands pressed onto your face. All he wanted was to make himself appear dependable, someone you can always count on.

“What?”

Oh shit. He didn’t mean to say that out loud. Slowly you got up from your chair. He braced himself for what was to come. When Bruce entered the room, he didn't know, other than seeing man nodding on the side to everything you said. Fast forward back to now, where he continues to fidget next to you.

“Don’t you dare do anything stupid for the next month, cause I’ll be checking in on you everyday.”

“Everyday?”

Dammit Bruce, he should've been benched for two months! Then he could’ve had two months of getting to hang out with you!

Damian:

“Stop hitting me!”

“You stop hitting me!”

It’s been five minutes into the game of Hide-and-Seek Bat family version and somehow he’s stuck in a cabinet under the tea display case with you. It’s only because he loves you that stopped him from kicking you out (he ignores how it was you who found this place first). But now, he’s having second thoughts. The space can barely hold a single person and yet here two of you are, cramped and squished in the most uncomfortable positions. Forget about blushing or self awareness, it’s sweltering hot and difficult to breathe! You both tried everything, rearranging yourselves in every way and the only position that was deemed better than the rest is where your backs are against each other, arms wrapped around the thighs and feet propped up against the wooden walls.

“Stop squirming or you’re going to get us caught!”

“Not everyone is as flexible as you!”

Quickly he jabs you, signalling another person entering the dining room. Though he found it odd. Just how poorly did everyone hide to get caught this easily? A minute passes. Two minutes. The person doesn’t leave and now he’s starting to get nervous. Out of nowhere, he realizes how pressed closed he is to you. Your body heat seeping into his and his into you. He has no plans to ever reveal to you how you are the only person who can ever make him feel at peace nor how he enjoys the colors you bring to his life. With these thoughts plaguing him, he succumbs and slowly lets his arm reach behind him so he could grab your hand.

“All right you love birds, that’s enough!”

You both tumble out and see the shit-eating grins everyone has on their face. Embarrassment and dread settles in. Those jerks knew and had planned to out him this whole time!

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #nightwing #nightwing x reader #jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #red hood x reader #tim drake x reader #red robin dc #tim drake #red robin x reader #duke thomas #duke thomas x reader #dc signal #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #signal x reader

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jobean12-blog · 11 months ago

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Boom Clap

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1,063

Summary: Before tonight you wouldn't have been able to label your relationship with Bucky but after he gets home earlier than expected from a mission and shows up at the bar everything changes.

Author's Note: Just because, I love him and this look ends me every time and it's lightly based on this song Boom Clap by Charli XCX. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you 🥰

Warnings: it's just Bucky being irresistible and soft too

“Well, something clearly more interesting than this conversation is going on in your mind. Would you like to share it with the rest of us?”

Two pairs of glittering eyes stare at you, twin knowing smiles gracing your friend’s lips and you frantically try to recall what the three of you had been discussing.

“There’s only one thing that can be giving her that look,” Nat laughs. “A man.”

“And not just any,” Wanda adds.

“Bucky,” both women say simultaneously and with devious grins.

You sip your drink to hide your smile.

“You must miss him since he’s been away on the mission all week,” Wanda muses.

You don’t say it but you do miss him. A lot.

“So what exactly is going on with you two?” Nat asks

With a nonchalant shrug you sip your drink again and try to figure out how to label your relationship with Bucky. Your friends wait, expressions expectant but playful.

If you had a definitive answer you would share it but ever since the two of you started hanging out neither of you had given it a label. You were just enjoying each other. In every way. You were happy being with him, that much of which you were sure.

“Umm…” you start.

That’s the only word you get out before you see Wanda and Nat’s drinks pause halfway to their mouths. Their eyes are trained on something just beyond your shoulder, toward the entrance of the bar.

Several other women at the bar pause their own conversation and you sense the shift in energy.

He’s here.

You place your drink down on the bar and turn. Bucky stands just inside the doorway, his black jacket draped over his broad shoulders and his covetous blue eyes focused on you.

Awareness races across your skin coupled with a heat only he can set ablaze. Your pulse quickens and you fight the urge to run into his arms.

He wears all black, from his tight fitted shirt down to his leather boots and his strong jaw is shadowed with dark hair. When he walks toward you at the bar, he moves with such sensual purpose that you notice another woman swooning.

He looks hungry and determined.

And he’s here for you.

You reach out and grab your drink, downing it in one long sip.

Without removing his gaze from yours, he takes your hand and brings it to his lips, turning it over and kissing the inside of your wrist, then your palm, then finally, your fingertips.

This time, you hear the breath woosh from Nat and Wanda but Bucky shows no reaction, appearing oblivious to anything else but you.

“Guess he’s back,” Nat whispers to Wanda. You barely catch the words as Bucky consumes your every thought.

“I missed you doll,” he whispers against your wrist.

“I missed you too,” you reply breathlessly.

He lowers your hand from his mouth and keeps hold of it between your bodies. With a soft tug he brings you closer, leaning into your neck and whispering along the shell of your ear.

“Come home with me?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” you murmur.

“Yes, I do doll. I would never take you for granted.”

Your free hand slides up his chest to his jaw, tracing the outline before you softly press your lips to his. His eyes fluttered closed and he breathes you in.

“I’m just going to use the restroom and say goodbye to Nat and Wanda. Meet you back here in five.”

“Hurry,” he murmurs, letting his eyes sparkle with words of unspoken want.

You rush off toward the bathroom, Nat and Wanda right behind you and after relieving yourself and filling your friends in you search for Bucky’s tall figure.

You find him standing at the bar, taking to someone. As you get closer, you see that the woman is standing close enough to brush against him. Unable to see Bucky’s face, you watch as she runs a hand along his arm with a gentle squeeze of his bicep, smiling at him flirtatiously.

Your heart drops into your stomach and you feel your eyes well with unshed tears but you can’t stop your forward movement. Bucky’s face comes into view. His eyes aren’t on the woman but furiously scanning the room. He looks uncomfortable, backing away from her and saying something you can’t hear.

You consider turning and running out but that wouldn’t be fair. You and Bucky have no official label, have never agreed to be exclusive. You can’t even blame the other woman for approaching him. He’s impossible to resist. You should know.

But then his eyes meet yours and you see all the emotions rushing through them, but mostly you see relief.

Taking a deep breath, you continue to walk forward. Bucky holds his arm out, his eyes begging you to walk into his embrace.

You slide into his side in time to hear him say, “here she is. This is my…”

“Girlfriend,” you finish, smiling and extending your hand with your name. “Nice to meet you.”

“Wow, lucky girl,” the woman says as she shakes your hand. “You deserve an award for landing a man like this.”

“I don’t need an award. I’ve got him,” you say as you reach down and take his left hand in yours.

Your eyes meet Bucky’s. “Ready to take me home Buck?”

“Always doll.”

Your hand stays tightly tucked in Bucky’s as you walk down the street toward his apartment. You turn toward him, the warm breeze caressing your skin and the city lights dancing in your eyes. His breath catches in his throat as your lips spread into a wide and reassuring smile.

He stops walking in the middle of the sidewalk and pulls you flush against his chest, his eyes wandering over your face.

“Are you really mine?” he asks as he dips his head. “You’re really my girl?”

“Yours Bucky. I have been from the beginning.”

His fingers spread across your lower back and he slowly drags his hand along the curve of your spine, every inch he covers pressing you closer against him until he reaches your neck and traces the delicate column before cradling your cheek.

He sweeps his thumb along your skin and holds your lips just centimeters from his, whispering, “mine,” as his eyes close and his mouth captures yours.

@randomfandompenguin @hiddles-rose @goldylions @kmc1989 @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @lizette50

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnesx fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader

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hauntedfawnn · 1 day ago

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۶♡ৎ Pucker Up Pup ۶♡ৎ (Switch!Rafe x Girlie!Dealer!Reader)

♡ྀི You’re Rafe’s dealer and against your better judgment because you have a soft spot for him, you’ve given him several “I owe you’s”. It’s time for him to pay up and he still doesn’t have your money. But you’ve got something else in mind…♡ྀི

Switch!Rafe, Switch!Reader, Season 2 Rafe, shoe worship (reader receiving), begging, use of cocaine, pussy eating, praise/degradation, spit kink, choking(with a belt), unprotected sex, overstimulation, 18+MDNI!!

“Listen, I - I’m really fuckin’ sorry.” Rafe exhales deeply through his nose and runs his hands through his dirty blonde bangs as he practically paces a hole into your living room rug. “I promise I’ll make it up to you, I’ll get your money. I just - I need some time.”

“Time?” You huff out a laugh. “Rafe, I’ve given you several ‘I owe you’s’ in the last few months and you haven’t paid me once. I’ve been patient, babe. It’s time to pay up.”

“I know - fuck- I know that.” Rafe takes in a shaky breath before pacing toward you. He stops a foot away from where you’re sitting on the couch and looks down at you with those desperate puppy dog eyes that got you in this position in the first place. He’s just so hot and so pathetic. You don’t make exceptions for anyone, but you have a soft spot for him. “Just this last time, yeah? I just - I need a few lines to get me through until I can get your money, I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Your promises are starting to become meaningless to me, Rafe. How do I know you’re going to follow through this time?” You cross your legs causing your little white dress to pool at your thighs. You tap your long pink acrylics against your leg as you smirk up at him. “I think you’re going to have to find a way to prove to me you really mean it.”

“I’ll do anything.” Rafe looks down at you nervously as he bites the side of his thumbnail. His bright blue eyes are bloodshot and his pupils are almost black. You can tell he truly is desperate and that’s what makes you cave every time. He just seems so sad and helpless, like nobody else in his life cuts him any slack. It’s not like he’s putting you out anyways, you just like to see him squirm.

“Anything?” You chuckle and lick your bottom lip as your Mary Jane clad foot swings back and forth in front of you.

“Yes, anything fuckin’ you want. Just please.” Rafe looks down at you pleadingly with his plump lips set into a pout and god you want to make him beg and cry for your pussy.

“Alright then.” You send him a devious smile and hold your foot out toward him. “Get on your knees and kiss my shoes then.”

“What?” Rafe’s eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his head and his jaw drops so low you’re surprised it didn’t just fall off onto the floor. “Are you for real?”

“Yeah, I’m dead serious.” You twirl your outstretched foot in his direction as you look at him tauntingly. “Crawl over here on your knees and kiss my feet, Rafe.”

Rafe can’t believe you’re asking him to do that. What’s even worse is he fucking wants to. He meant it when he said he’d do anything you asked because yeah he comes here for the drugs, but what he truly comes here for was you. There’s just something about how he knows you’ve definitely shot people but you walk around with bows in your hair and little ruffle socks on your feet that makes him a special brand of crazy. You’re so sweet and you look so fragile and gentle but he knows there’s a demon inside you that he’s been dying to play with.

“Earth to Rafe.” You wave your hands in front of you and it snaps him from his trance, his eyes flashing to meet yours. “It’s a limited time offer, clocks ticking.”

“Okay. I’ll do it.” Rafe’s eyes roam your body and he audibly gulps. You’re wearing this tiny little white lace dress, ruffle socks, and Mary Jane’s. You have blue ribbons in your hair and a look on your face that could bring the devil the shame.

“Yeah?” You chuckle and send him a sweet, triumphant smile that holds an undertone of condescension and it makes his cock start to harden in his jeans. “Alright then, be a good boy and crawl.”

You slide your ass to the edge of the couch and tap the tip of your shoe on the ground before holding your foot out toward him again. Rafe runs his hands through his hair and takes in a deep breath through his nose. He drops down into one knee, then the other.

“Just so you know, I ain’t no fuckin’ bitch. I’m only doin’ this for you.” Rafe puffs his chest and it makes you giggle.

“Mhm, tough guy, let’s see how much of that manly pride you’ve got left when I’m done with you. Come.” You snap your fingers and point toward the ground in front of you. Rafe chews the inside of his lip before huffing and crawling forward to you on his hands and knees. It’s a sight to behold. This over six foot man crawling toward you like a desperate little slut with his ocean blue, puppy dog eyes. He stops in front of you and he’s still taller than you on his knees.

“I’m going to have so much fun with you.” You giggle and run your foot up his thigh, to his abdomen and up his chest. You lay it on his shoulder and caress his cheek with the tip of your shoe. “Pucker up, pup.”

“Fuck.” Rafe never thought he would ever get turned on by being called that, but he’s so fucking hard now it almost hurts. Your pretty eyes stare up at him expectantly as you bite your glossy bottom lip. The smooth leather of your shoe is cool against his skin and it sends a shiver down his spine. You ghost the very tip of your shoe across his lips and Rafe’s eyes flash to your foot. You tilt your foot sideways again, caressing his cheek and Rafe’s lips follow. He places a gentle kiss on the side of your shoe and it makes your pussy throb.

“You’re so pretty, ya know that?” Rafe’s large hand comes up to caress your thigh down to the ankle as he gives you those wet pathetic eyes. He laces his hand around your ankle and uses it to pull your foot to his lips. He runs them along the leather of your shoe before placing another peck right on the tip of it. Then another. And another.

“Mmm, that’s a good boy, Rafey.” Your voice is saccharine despite the fact that the look on your face is anything but. Rafe can’t hold in the low whine that escapes his throat at your words. “Oh? You like that? You like being a good boy for me?”

“Shut up.” Rafe groans and throws his head back and you lace your foot around the back of his neck so you can pull his body toward yours. You grip onto his silky hair and yank it, trapping him in place.

“Let’s get one thing straight, I’m in charge right now, pretty boy.” You squeeze your calf around the front of his throat, choking him slightly. You giggle and lean in, ghosting your lips against the shell of his ear. “So drop the attitude, mkay?”

“Yeah - yeah, okay.” Rafe shakes his head as best as he can while in your grasp. He could physically break free if he really wanted to. But mentally he feels like he’s at your mercy. He’s never thought he’d enjoy a girl bossing him around in bed but everything you’re doing is making his dick feel like it’s going to explode. You lean back and place a teasing, sticky, lipgloss kiss on his lips before pulling away. Rafe tries to chase your lips but you unhook your leg from around his neck and press your foot into his chest.

“Now, kiss em’ and maybe I’ll let you do a line off me.” You bite your lip as Rafe takes your foot in his large ringed hand and brings it up to his lips. He kisses the side of your shoe down to the back and makes his way to the tip again. He sticks his tongue out and licks from the tip of your shoe all the way to the back. “Oh, that’s so fucking hot.”

“Yeah? You like that?” Rafe mumbles against the leather of your shoe before dropping your foot and picking up your other ankle. He brings your shoe to his lips before giving it the same treatment, kissing it and letting out little flicks of his tongue. You throw your free foot over his shoulder and spread your legs, flashing him your tiny baby blue thong that has a sticky, wet spot in the middle. “Fuck, you’re so wet.”

“You’re just so hot, all desperate and at my mercy.” You bring your perfectly manicured hand to your lace covered pussy and run your finger along your wet slit. You gather some of your wetness before bringing your fingers to Rafe’s lips. “Wanna taste?”

Rafe takes your fingers between his lips and groans at the taste of you. He swirls his tongue around your digits, savoring you.

“I think you’ve earned your reward, don’t you?” You giggle at the way Rafe nods dumbly in your direction. You pull your fingers from his mouth and reluctantly untangle yourself from him. You lay back on the couch, push your dress up over your hips and unscrew the locket around your neck. Rafe watches with curiously eager eyes as you push your panties down so they’re almost all the way off your ass. You hold the locket right above your pussy and tap your finger against the side causing white powder to sprinkle out in a line across your silky skin.

Rafe leans down between your legs so he can run his nose across your pussy and inhale the coke you so graciously laid there. It had to be the best line of his life. He got hit with a wave of your scent. Candy-like perfume, a hint of weed, and your dripping, wet pussy. Rafe loops his arm around your thigh so he can rub his nostril before he runs his nose along your smooth skin, inhaling your addictive scent.

“You gonna let me taste this pussy, baby?” Rafe peers up at you while he continues to rub his nose along your skin, the tip traveling dangerously close to your throbbing clit. “You smell s’fuckin good.”

“Yeah?” Your chest heaves as you let out a shaky laugh, you love taking control but what you love even more than that is being controlled. And you know if you put your pleasure in his hands, you’ll be putty in them. Rafe lets an experimental flick of his tongue out along your clothed slit and the way your eyes roll back is answer enough for him.

Rafe flattens his tongue and runs it along the lace of the thong covering your dripping pussy. He groans at the taste and swirls his tongue along the material, savoring you.

“Knew you’d be so fuckin’ sweet.” Rafe slides his finger into the front of your panties so he can push them to the side. The cold air hitting your wet heat causes goosebumps to break out onto your skin. That combined with the blue fire that’s practically burning in Rafe’s eyes as he takes in the way your puffy cunt glistens in the low light for him. “N’ she’s so pretty too. I wanna hear you scream.”

Rafe chuckles before leaning down so he can run his tongue through your folds. He moans at your taste as he starts to worship your pussy with his tongue. He shoves it as deep as it can go inside you and flicks it against your walls before pulling back to circle your desperate clit. He swirls the tip of his tongue around it and sucks it between his lips.

“Oh, fuck, Rafe that’s so good.” You whine as you wiggle beneath him and Rafe’s hand comes up to pin your hip to the mattress while he devours you. Two fingers from his free hand circle your entrance before he plunges them inside you. He pumps them in and out of you and caresses your sweet spot with the tips of his fingers and it has your toes curling. “Oh my god, yes!”

“Mmm.” Rafe moans against your pussy as you writhe and let out the sweetest sounds beneath him. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers and his hand on your hip has to push down harder to keep you from wiggling away from him. “You gonna come for me? Come all over my face, baby, give it to me.” Rafe sucks your clit harder than ever as his fingers pick up pace inside you and it has your orgasm wracking over you.

“Fuck - fuck, I’m coming! I’m coming!” Your whole body is taken over by pleasure and your limbs shake as you thrust your hips against Rafe’s pretty face. He doesn’t stop until you’re pushing his head away. When he pulls away from you with that lop sided smirk, your juices covering his chin and lips, it has your pussy throbbing for him again already. “God, I want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? Look who's begging now…” Rafe chuckles and slides up your body, his arms caging you in on either side of your head. He rolls his hips against yours and it makes your eyes roll back while a breathy moan escapes you. “You want this dick, baby?”

“Don’t be a tease, Rafe.” You whine and throw your head back and Rafe laughs condescendingly in return.

“I’m a tease?” Rafe grips onto your chin, pulling your face so you’re forced to look him in the eyes. “You prance around here in these little outfits, giving me those fuckin’ eyes.” Rafe smirks down at you devilishly as he shakes your head from side to side. “You practically invented the word tease, Princess. Don’t get it fuckin’ twisted. Just because you had me on my knees doesn’t mean shit, I can still reduce you to nothing more than a babbling slut if I wanted.” Rafe’s free hand grips onto your thigh and throws it around his hip. He leans up on his knees and thrusts his Jean clad cock against your bare pussy as he presses your head into the couch by your jaw. “You want my cock? Beg for it.”

“Come on, Rafe.” You whine as you meet the rolls of his hips with your own. “Don’t be like that, just fuck me, please?”

“Oh, no, no. I’m in charge right now.” He throws your earlier words back at you. “And I know you can do better than that, baby doll.” Rafe reaches down to undo his belt and you can’t help but stare. He pulls it from the loops and then takes it in his hands and snaps it together. It makes both you and your pussy jump. He leans down and presses the belt under your head so he can loop it around your neck and pull it tight. “Now, beg.”

“Please? Please fuck me? I know you’d fill me up so good.” You whine. “Please use me?”

“Now, that’s more like it, good girl.” Those two little words send a fiery hot jolt to your core. Mere minutes ago this man was on his knees for you and now he’s got you bound and begging. He tugs the belt on your neck causing you to let out a little strangled moan. His free hand makes quick work of his jeans, undoing them and pushing them down his hips far enough to free his thick cock. “Gonna fuckin’ destroy this pussy, baby.”

Rafe taps his tip against your sensitive clit, the bead of precum that gathered there mixing in with your own juices. He slides himself through your slick lips before pushing just the tip in and pulling it out again. He teases you with the tip, pushing in just a little more each time. And just when you’re about to start begging again he slams into you balls deep in one thrust.

“Oh, you’re so fuckin’ tight. Shit.” Rafe groans as he fucks into you at a brutal pace. There’s no build up, no time to think, he’s just ramming his cock into you so deep you can feel it in your guts. He’s hitting spots you didn’t even know existed as he grips your thigh and presses it up to your chest. His other hand still holds the belt around your neck and the look in his blue eyes is nearly crazed.

“Oh my fucking god, you’re so fucking deep!” You cry out as your hands grip onto his shoulders, your long nails leaving red trails along his toned, tan skin.

“Yeah, that’s right, slut.” Rafe chuckles as he smirks down at your sweaty, fucked out form. “Bet you never had anybody in your tight little pussy this deep, huh?”

“N- no, fuck! It’s so good, so deep, Rafey” A bit of drool drips from the side of your chin and Rafe leans down to lick it off. He pulls the belt, using his grip to bring your face so close to his your lips are practically touching.

“Open your fuckin’ mouth.” Rafe pulls his thick cock almost all the way out of you before thrusting back into you with a force that nearly knocks the wind out of you. You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out for good measure and he spits on it. You swallow it with a hum that gets you a tug on the belt and a filthy kiss in return. “You’re a nasty little girl, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know.” Your fucked out smile still holds that tone of mischief that always makes Rafe go crazy and he swears he’s never quitting you after this. He drops his grip on the belt so he can grab onto your other thigh and press it to your chest, practically folding you in half. His dick somehow goes impossibly deeper, so deep he can see it bulging out of your stomach.

“Would ya look at that? You see that, baby? You see me inside you?” You follow Rafe’s gaze and sure enough you can see the head of his cock slamming against the inside of your stomach. The sight makes you dizzy as your pussy clenches around him. “Touch it, then rub your pussy for me until you come around my dick like a good little slut.”

You follow his instructions, putting your hand over your abdomen, feeling the way he’s practically bullying your insides. You slide your hand down further until you reach your needy, swollen clit and rub circles on it with your fingers. You were already so close it only takes a few seconds and Rafe angling his hips slightly different for you to tumble over the edge. White hot pleasure overtakes your entire body as you go rigid beneath him.

“Yeah, that’s fuckin’ it. This payment enough for you, huh? This fucking dick is priceless, huh baby?” Rafe taunts you as you come around his cock.

“You never have to pay me again if you keep fucking me like this.” You babble as you pull your hand away from your over sensitive clit. But one wasn’t enough for Rafe, he wanted to see you fall apart for him again. He replaces your hand with his own, his big thumb rubbing rough circles on your aching clit while he continues to fuck you deep and hard.

“Yeah? I’m gonna hold you to that.” Rafe chuckles. “Gimme another one.”

“Fuck, I don’t think - I don’t think I have another one in me.” You whine and set your lips into a pout as you pant beneath him. Your pussy feels so overstimulated you can’t imagine coming again.

“Oh, no. You’re gonna give me another one, baby doll. Come for me.” Rafe’s free hand presses into the couch cushion by your head as he angles his hips so his cock is hitting that perfect spot inside you while he continues his assault on your clit. He leans down and licks a long stripe from your collar bone all the way up your cheek before connecting your lips in a messy kiss. It’s all teeth and tongue and it’s what sends you into another orgasm. You see stars as it crashes over you. Your eyes roll back and your toes curl and Rafe has to hold your hip down because you nearly fly off the couch from how far your back arches.

“Yeaaaah, that’s it baby, milk my fucking dick.” Rafe’s other hand falls on the other side of your head as his hips pick up speed while he chases his own high. “I’m gonna fill this needy little pussy up with my cum and then I’m gonna watch it drop out before I fill you up all over again, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, fucking fill me, Rafe.” Rafe curses at that, his cock twitching deep inside you as ropes of his cum paint your inner walls.

“Fuck yes, fuckin’ take this god damn cum you little whore.” Rafe growls as he fucks himself through it and it’s all so hot it sends you into one final orgasm right along with him. When you both finally come down from your highs, Rafe flops down on top of you a panting, sweaty mess.

“That was so fucking hot. Oh my god.” You giggle as you run your fingers through his sweaty, disheveled hair. Rafe looks up at you with a goofy ass smile you’ve never seen before and it gives you butterflies.

“Yeah it was. You’re fuckin’ mine now. I’m never letting another man touch you again.” Rafe groans as he nuzzles into your chest. How he can fuck you so good you can’t even think straight and then manage to be absolutely adorable seconds later was beyond you.

“You’re so cute, you know that?” You smile at him sweetly as you rub the apple of his cheek. “I think you ruined me for any other man anyways.”

“Good.” Rafe smirks up at you before leaning up to kiss you surprisingly sweetly. “You really gonna let me slut myself out for some coke now, though?”

“Oh my god!” You laugh. “Don’t push it, pretty boy.” You poke his cheek and he gives you a pout. He looks like the cutest, grumpy little puppy. And he gives those sweet, pathetic blue eyes you just can’t seem to resist. “But yeah, I guess we could work something out.”

Tagging mooties: @rafesheaven @rafescvntyclubgf @eerielamb @dementedkittenribbon @that-sarcastic-writer @moonlightseranade @loserboysandlithium @songbirdmunson @sarahsangelicdoll @eddiesxangel 🤍

Dividers by @anitalenia

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe #outer banks #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader #obx #rafe smut #rafe x reader smut #rafe x you #girlie!dealer!reader #dealer!reader #switch!rafe #bambii writes

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madamechrissy · 7 months ago

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Take Me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is 28-29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. Also, Cunnilingus first chap

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 8.3k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name.

Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right?

That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? 💓Materlist💓

(If you wanna be tagged in updates let me know 💓) Lawyer AU

Chapter 1

The music throbbed in your chest, vibrating against your ribs as you navigated the packed dance floor. You weren't much of a club person, but your good friend Maki insisted you needed to 'let loose' after a particularly stressful week doing the LSATS. It had definitely taken its toll on all of you and your friends, but you’d passed, now finally in one of the top law schools after your Bachelors.

Now, surrounded by a sea of bodies writhing to the beat, you were unsure what the appeal was, overwhelming your senses. The heat of the crowd, the energy radiating from every corner of the room, people so close as you stood there it was as if you could not breathe. Everyone was dancing wildly in the club, a club you felt out of place in.

For years you’d pretty much holed yourself up in your room or overachieved in class. you had no time for boyfriends, distractions, fun… not if you wanted a top score and a killer internship.

You were ambitious as fuck.

Maki said you should all be proud, let loose… have fun but you’d damn near forgotten how to.

Maki was dancing with Yuta now, another boy going to the same law school as you two, they wave at you through the crowd, you smile and wave back, then decide to face everyone and go grab a drink finally. You were more of a wallflower than anything, preferring to be at home with a good book rather than dancing around on various college boys, you wish you were a little more fun.

You head over to where the bar is, shyly getting the attention of the bartender, grabbing a cranberry vodka. The social anxiety was creeping in so you figure the alcohol will fix it.

You turn, then smash into someone.

“Shit!” You look at the broad chest you’d bumped into, the only thing in your field of vision, of a very expensive looking shirt you’d just dropped cranberry vodka all over, spreading through the fancy fabric quickly, luckily, it was a navy blue, but you still panicked. You snatch up a ton of napkins and start frantically wiping at it. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Can I pay for drycleaning? Do I need to buy one? I-”

A hand grabs your wrist, big, enveloping it like you were nothing, and your eyes finally rise up to the tall man in front of you, a smirk playing on handsome features. His eyes were the most striking thing about him, blue as the sky after a storm, sparkling with something devious, fringed by white spiky lashes. His face was so pretty it nearly hurt to look at.

Full lips, perfect model cheekbones, a strong jaw line… literally looking like he stepped out of GQ or something. His silvery white hair was striking, and he stood well over a foot taller than you, imposing, tempting…and your hand was on his chest, clutching crumpled napkins, your wrist in that firm grip.

You froze, overwhelmed, confused by your reaction… you’d met plenty of gorgeous men in your life, you had handsome male friends, but something about him drew out something primal in you… Something…

The fuck. The dude has you wet?

Jesus maybe you were due for a good fuck.

Maki was right.

“It’s all right, lots of women have this reaction. I’m just really ridiculously good looking.” He says with a grin, easing the grip off your wrist, taking your hand now, you gasp, mouth open, unsure of what to say. “Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re… arrogant as fuck! Wow.” He laughs, deep and baritone, and fuck if he isn’t even more attractive as he does.

“And you’re clumsy as fuck.” You sigh, covering your face now.

“I’m so sorry… I am clumsy, ugh. Can I try to get the stain out, please, I feel awful.” He snorts in laughter, looking down at you, intense gaze seeing right through you somehow. His look follows down your body, your low cut little crop top that was nothing like you were usually in, your little skirt…

“Trying to get me naked, hmm?” You scowl as he grabs your waist, but then some sensation hits you… the warm grip and his big fucking hands burn as they touch your bare skin. You falter, in confusion, for you had not even had a drink yet to account for such things.

“I am not at all! I just feel bad. I…” You wouldn’t mind seeing him naked, but you shove that thought down deep in the recesses, clearing your throat with a little blush, for his hand is still on your waist.

“Your own outfit is stained, baby girl. Look.” You peek down and realize what he’d been staring at. “My shirt’s dark, it'll be fine. We need to get that cleaned up.”

“It's okay, it's silky, it should come off.” You now rub the stain on your chest, which he openly looks at, sipping his own drink.

“You look like you don’t belong here.” He gestured to the crowded, loud club, full of dancing bodies, pool tables with beer pong set up, there was even a drunken Giant Jenga game, loudly crashing blocks. You looked back up to him, lost in that gaze, it was as if his eyes held your attention there.

“I don’t belong here.” You managed to say, and he brushed a lock of your hair back, tucking it behind your ear. God, how did just those little actions turn you on so much? “I don’t go out to clubs, I don’t really even do shit but study. My friends over there…” You point them out. “They are making me try.”

He smirks as he looks over at them. “Well, shit, then you should give it a shot. Want me to grab you another drink?”

“Oh no, I owe you one if anything. Can I buy you one?” He shrugs casually, smirking a bit.

“I’m so pretty a girl is buying me drinks, hmm?” You roll your eyes at him, shaking your head.

“Just tell me what you like.”

“Something sweet.” He whispers, leaning over you a bit, behind you, chest against your back, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine, you wave back at the bartender, who takes pity on you.

“On the house, sweetheart.” He winks, and you blink in surprise.

“Oh thank you so much.” The bartender leans over a bit, smiling, and you feel this stranger next to you tense. “Can I also get a chocolatini?”

“Yummy.” He says next to you, and the bartender just looks at him, then eases back, smiling and handing it to you too.

“Thanks so much again.” You tip him big with a smile, then hand the white haired god next to you the little chocolate drink.

“Hmm, what is this?” He asks, icy blue eyes staring into the glass, stirring the chocolatey liquid around.

“It’s sweet. Try it.”

He takes a sip, licking his full lips, distracting you. “Mmm, this is perfect, shit.” He sips it, moaning and closing his eyes, and it pushes wild thoughts, addling your mind. “Okay, forgiven for the mess.”

“Good.” You start sipping your drink and sighing, letting the tart bite hit your tongue.

“Satoru, by the way.” He says, in that deep voice, a baritone that hit octaves that did wild things to your psyche. You look up at him, realizing just how close you are, feeling overheated. You tell him your name, softly, and he repeats it, sounding far too good on his lips.

“Well, it's nice to literally run into you, Satoru. I guess.”

“Usually I get girls wet, not the other way around.” He says audaciously, with a wink, you snort in laughter.

“You’re something else.” You say with an eye roll, then peek over to see Maki drunkenly making out in a corner, grinding her ass on Yuta as they dance. “Ah shit, I don’t think I’m gonna have my friends tonight. Third wheel life, but they’re my good friends who deal with me being antisocial.”

“You did seem pretty fucking awkward.” He says teasingly, nudging you with his shoulder.

“Dick.” You snort, sipping your drink, the music hits and it’s one of your favorite songs, but you’re too nervous to do anything, just standing there. You peek up at him in surprise. “You don’t have to hang out over here, I am sure your friends want to hang out with you.”

“Yeah… they’re all out of here at this point. I was heading out too, just closing up the tab when you ran into me.” You suddenly feel a weird sense of disappointment that should not exist.

“Oh…” You sip your drink again, hips ever so slightly swaying to the beat of the music, body starting to feel the warmth as the liquor slides through you. “Well it was nice meeting you though? And you got a chocolatini?”

“Yes, and it is yummy.” He stands there, and your eyes lock, something just pulling you towards the man too gorgeous to exist in this world, the conceited little shit who smelled really fucking good. You expect him to leave, but he just stands, sipping his drink, eyes lowering to your hips as they sway.

“How’d you end up here anyway?” You ask, leaning your head to the side, hair falling. He casually brushes it back, you struggle not to show how much you like it, casual fucking little caresses when you're touch starved as it is. But especially from him for some reason.

“I was just hanging out with my friends, Suguru and Kento. Just unwinding a bit, we get together once a month at some random place and get lit.” He sips more of his drink, somehow you’ve gotten closer.

“Oh, that sounds like fun though. I swear I don’t think I’ve been to a club? Is that really pathetic?”

“You’re kinda boring huh?”

“Maybe. I apparently need to let loose and have fun since I got my Bachelors degree.”

“It’s not the worst idea. You like this song don’t you?” He asks softly, and you feel your heart race, nervously trying to stop the swaying of your body to the beat. You nod, instead, and he takes your hand, lacing his fingers through yours.

“I… what are we…”

“Let’s dance. That'll loosen you up a bit.”

“I don’t know how to…” You say softly, confused, he laughs a bit, shaking his head and setting your empty drinks on the bar.

“Everyone can, just follow your body.” He's so confident and self assured.

Satoru is leading you to the dance floor, the music pounding in your ears along with your erratic heartbeat. He pulls you against him, his scent hits you, something intoxicating about it. He pauses for a moment, looking down at your face intently. Even in your heels you have to crank your neck back to look at him, intimidating in his presence.

“What do I… how do I do it?” You ask, he clears his throat, smirking again, turning you so your ass and back are against him, you gasp just a bit. His hands hit low on your hips, so warm through them, luoure hot and sticky between your thighs.

“Feel the beat of the song.” He murmurs in your ear, moving your hips in a figure eight motion with those big hands. Why were they so big? Fuck. “You’re too tense, close your eyes and just focus on the music and me.”

His words were a velvet caress, you’d do anything he asked when it sounded like that, it was pathetic almost. You close your eyes, and your other senses are heightened then, feeling his touch, hard body behind you, inch by inch, the fabric of his expensive clothes brushing on your bare skin.

“Like that?” You ask, moving your ass a bit side to side, he shakes his head, grabbing your hips, desire shoots through you.

“Nah, loosen up more. There, like that.”

You let your body sway with his, feeling the heat between your skin, the soft brush of his hips against yours, his hand sliding up your back, fingers tangling in your hair. He pulls you closer, and you gasp as his body pressed against yours, his lips brushing against your ear, sending a jolt of want.

His hips begin to move against yours, a slow, steady rhythm, and you lose yourself to the music and him, the way he holds you when you face him now, the way he feels, hard lithe body against yours. His hands move up and down your waist, his fingers digging into your skin ever so slightly, making you shiver, a crazy ache wracking through your body.

You tilt your chin up to look at him, arms around his neck, and find his ethereally gorgeous eyes locked onto yours, pupils dilated, making the blue rings of his eyes glow in the blinking lights of the dim club, and his full lips are parted. He's just dripping fucking sex, he’s way too attractive, it was difficult to keep moving and not just stand there and stare at him.

Satoru seems just as lost in this moment as you are, and it only makes you want him more… fuck you didn’t do this, you didn’t think of these things, you had too much to do, too much to focus on. But fuck… would it be the worst thing? To let yourself lose it in the moment, just go with it?

Were you looking too into it?

The music fades out in your head now, the thudding of your heart pounding in your ears, as you feel the way his hips still move against you, the way your hands grip his neck now, you both are just swaying. You’re on your tip toes in heels and nowhere near his height, and it makes you hornier, how fucking big he is, even his hands. He makes you horny, some random stranger you spilled a drink on in the club.

The air feels thick, almost heavy, and for a moment, hard to breathe as both of your eyes stay locked on each other, his hands slide down your hips, they’d been respectful, but they grow bolder. Every beat of the music vibrates through you, along with something maddening, you’re drawing closer and closer to him.

“How am I doing now?” You ask, breathless, he smirks, fucking hot and arrogant as fuck, drawing you in further.

“You’re not too bad.” He teases, you roll your eyes, easing back, but he grabs you to him, hands on your ass now, and you pause, as he grips it, an ass cheek in each of his big hands. “Now that… that’s fucking nice.”

“My ass?” You ask, laughing, he nods, grinning with those fangs of his glinting in the dark smoky room. “Handsy, huh?”

“Want me to stop?” He asks, and you shake your head, looking down a bit, he takes one of his hands, easing your chin up to look at him. Your pulse is hammering in your throat, as he bends lower, you stare at those lips, growing hot everywhere, breath in little pants.

“Oh! Oh…” Maki comes up behind you, and you pause, whirling your head to look at her, she has a big giant grin on her face. “Well, well, introduce me.”

“This is…”

“Satoru.” He smiles, nodding over to her, but he didn’t let you go, he didn’t even move the hand on your ass until you smack at his hand. He glares, as if you’ve taken a toy from him.

“Maki. I was gonna let you know I’m heading out soon, I figured you would wanna come with… or are you… hmm, hanging out more?” She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, you cover your face in embarrassment.

“I think he was leaving, weren’t you?” You look up at him, his grip tightens just a bit on your waist.

“I am leaving soon, yeah. Can she stay a little longer hmm?” He asks with puppy dog eyes, leaning on your shoulder. Maki rolls her eyes, nodding.

“I’ll give you all another twenty to… dance? I’ll find ya.” She kisses your cheek, and runs off, surely to tell Yuta. You peer back up at Satoru curiously. His gaze has gone from flirtatious to hungry.

“Did you wanna dance more?” You ask, and he laughs a bit.

“I’d like to eat you out.”

“Wha-?”

“Mmhmm.” He’s just standing there, after saying something so fucking wild, your brows dip low in confusion, and your pussy is wet as fuck.

Shit.

“I… huh?”

“I said I-”

You shut his mouth with your hand, yanking him down to do so, he’s so damn tall, and he’s laughing behind your palm. “I heard you! God…”

“You seem so tense.” He murmurs, easing your hand down, then he kisses it, but it’s not gentlemanly, it’s fucking devious, those eyes are insane. “And you’re crazy fucking hot.”

“Me? You… you are.”

“Aw you think I’m hot?” You sigh, looking down for a moment. “Time is ticking, we have less than twenty, and I like to take my time.”

“Jesus… you just wanna eat me out?”

“What, you haven’t done it?” You look away, clearing your throat, and anticipation is eating at you. “Oh fuck, you haven’t!”

“Shush. Why do you want to just do that?”

“It’s fun, duh.” He rolls his eyes at you, as if it were so simple. Your cunt throbs around nothing now, and you look at his lips.

“Don’t most men ask for a blow job?”

“Not men. Boys. I’m a man, baby girl.”

He practically purrs those words, and you’re getting even wetter. “We haven’t even kissed?”

He leans down, wrapping an arm around your hips, lifting you up, like you’re just some doll. Your breath comes out in a squeak, and his lips are pressed on yours now, your arms wrap around his neck, and he’s kissing you as your legs dangle. You open your mouth, moaning, as his tongue slides in, against your own, shooting desire down through you.

“Better?” He whispers, kissing you softer, little pops of kisses. You moan into his lips, tasting his minty breath, mixing with the sweet drink you’d made him.

“I don’t ever do this.” You breathe out. “I… fuck… okay?”

“Yeah?” You nod.

“Yeah.”

Satoru eases you down, and then you’re wildly following him through the throngs of dancers and clubgoers, until he’s knocking, and you all are slinking into the club’s rather fancy fucking bathroom. You contemplate your life in those moments, but when you’re in the bathroom and he’s shoved you against the door, kissing you again, you just go with it.

He feels so good.

“You’re a good kisser, fuck.” You murmur against his lips, he grins, and you realize you’re inflating his ego.

“Mmhmm, I am. I’m even better at this.” He drops to his knees, and your heart is in your throat, your eyes are wide as he’s lifting your skirt up, easing your panties down, smirking up at you.

“Mnh…” Is all that you manage, when he takes them fully off, putting one of your thighs on his shoulder, kissing the sensitive inner part of it. You brace yourself on his broad shoulders, entire body trembling. “Fuck…”

“Say my name, pretty. Satoru.” He orders, and you nod, then your hand gently goes through his hair, silky and perfect against your touch.

“Satoru… I… you sure?”

“If you want it.” You nod, maybe too eager, and his head dips, shoving your skirt up your hips, and he flicks his tongue up your slit. You cry out, trembling at the sensation, so fucking good your hips jerk. “You’re soaked…” He whispers, peeking up at you with those eyes.

You just nod again, you’re at a loss for words now, gulping, and he’s back down there, moaning against your clit, and you gasp as pleasure hits you hard, clenching in your tummy and spreading. His tongue is hot against you, pressure just perfect on your little clit, your hands enwrap further, gripping his hair, and he’s fucking moaning, vibrating on your cunt.

“Satoru…” You cry out, and you’re pulsing around nothing, wetness pouring out of you in spurts, he drinks you up, the sounds obscene in the little bathroom, the music and loud people fading further and further.

“You taste so good.” He murmurs as he pulls back a bit, you manage a mumbled thank you that he smiles at, his eyes are even brighter, a madness almost in them that surely matched your own. You caress his face, thumb rubbing on his lip, mixed with your cum and his saliva, and he moans then, yanking your hand down to your clit. “Feel how wet I’ve got you.”

“Fuck! Mnh…” You feel your slickness against your own fingers now, shaking as you hit your now swollen clit.

Satoru puts your hand back on his head, dipping back down, devouring you, and you hear how wet you are, hear him slurping you up, you’re falling apart, unraveling for this stranger. A guy you just met in a damn nightclub, what is wrong with you? But he’s giving you an unreal amount of pleasure, you’re pulsing now when he slides a long, thick finger in you.

Someone knocks.

You curse.

“Keep quiet, pretty, they’ll hear you.” He winks up at you, and you nod, holding a hand to your face, arching your hips up for more of his touch, his mouth, and he’s working your clit with his tongue as he’s massaging your g spot with his fingertip, it’s too much, too much.

“Mnh!” You struggle to hide your moans, more people are knocking, it’s banging against your back, and Satoru’s devouring you, every bit of your cunt, and you feel yourself start to shake, pleasure shooting through your entire body, your walls are tightening around those long fingers, stretching you out so deliciously. “Satoru… I… too much…”

“Shush.” He peers up at you, those gorgeous goddamn eyes, his eyes are heavy lidded with desire, his face is half covered in your slickness, glistening. “Cum on my face, let me drink you up.” His voice is deep, hoarse, and you start falling apart on his fingers, he grins, devious. “That’s it. Cum for me, pretty.”

He’s back down there, and his finger hits just so, his tongue flicking faster and faster on your aching clit, and you slam both hands on your mouth as he holds your hips up, burying his face. You fall apart, cumming so hard you can’t even see, it’s all blackness, your ears are buzzing, your body is shaking. You reach down blindly, to balance on his shoulders, and he’s drinking it up.

He’s drinking you.

Fuck.

His tongue flicks a couple more times, as more people bang on the door you rested back on, and he pulls back finally, grinning up at you, having just wrecked you completely. You can’t breathe, you can’t stand, he’d just casually given you the best orgasm of your life, and not even known you, not even known your body…

“Fuck.” You manage, and he stands then, kissing you, bending low, cupping your face with those big hands.

“See how good you taste?” He murmurs, flicking his tongue on your lips, all you can do is moan. He laughs a bit at you. “Those eyes after cumming… yep… that’s the hottest shit I’ve seen.”

“My eyes? Have you seen…”

Someone opens the door then, and you curse, yanking your skirt down, Satoru just casually leans over to look, scowling. “Excuse me, I’m busy.”

“Oh shit, sorry…” The drunken guy who’d broken in stumbles back, and then you hear him throwing up.

Satoru rolls his eyes, and then you both leave, you absentmindedly notice your panties are in the bathroom, up on the damn counter, and run embarrassingly back in to snatch them up. You run back out, trying to see where he went off to, but it’s a chaotic mess, everyone is going this way and that, and before you know it, you can’t even see him, so short compared to all of the people.

Maki comes and grabs your hand, and you follow her, searching for him, where could a tall man with white hair hide anyway?

“What’d you do, oh my god!” She turns you to her, you errantly notice everyone around you getting rowdier, there are crazy fights even breaking out. “You got freaky in the club bathroom didn’t you?”

“Oh god, Maki, shh!” Your skin is bright red now, she’s grinning like a crazy woman.

“He was hot! Get his number?”

“No and… I don’t see him, shit.” You’re trying to look around, Maki does too, but no sign of him. You all look for another five minutes, as things are getting rowdy with a couple of the club goers, fighting over some girl. You both sigh. “Dammit, I really… I think I like him, Maki, and he’s gone. Ugh.”

“It’s okay, love, you’ll run into him again.” She squeezes your hand, and your mind goes to him, to Satoru, who has brought you so much pleasure so quickly. “Ooh, look him up!”

“Is that… stalker ish? I only have his first name…”

“Nah. He seemed interested. Let’s get us home and then we’ll see if he has socials or anything, we’ll find him.”

You sit in the back of the car with Maki and Yuta, who are just making out the entire time, staring out the car window at the street lights that pass. You can’t shake the thoughts of him, of Satoru… you pick up your phone, typing his name in Facebook, nothing. Instagram, nothing. Tiktok? You doubt it, but you try… and, nothing.

Without a last name you were screwed, but there weren’t even any ‘Satoru’ profiles that you could find. Cursing internally, you lay your head back in frustration. You didn’t even tell him you liked him, you just… came on his fucking face? An arrogant, gorgeous man’s pretty face. His tongue had done things that had…

Shit.

Two months later, you found yourself sitting in the lecture hall at the beginning of law school, your heart racing with excitement and anticipation for the journey ahead. You take out your little laptop, hands sweaty and nervous, wishing Maki and Yuta were in this class with you. You were in an advanced program, having scored so high, so you were thrown in with more experienced students.

You also had a big chance at the coveted internship with the top law professor, who taught this very class. You peek at your syllabus, this is supposed to be the top young professor that everyone kept going on about, his name was Professor Gojo. You open up your laptop now, popping open the note taking app on there, when a chatter begins.

As the professor walked in, you barely looked up at first, seeing a tall, lithe body in a pinstripe suit. You look back down, turning off your phone to be safe, hearing the women in the class murmuring.

“He’s so hot!” They kept whispering, you peek around curiously, then look back up to him, seeing a shock of silvery white hair.

Your heart falters.

As he began to introduce himself, writing his name on the board, you couldn't believe your eyes. It was him - Satoru.

The man that had made you cum with his mouth.

He was your fucking law professor?

Shit.

As Satoru- or, Professor Gojo apparently, spoke, his eyes met yours, that piercing blue across the room, almost as if he was looking through you. He pauses for a moment, full lips opening then closing, before clearing his throat, putting back on a smirk and an air of arrogance.

“Professor Gojo, welcome to Criminal Law. I assume there are mostly second years. Any first semester students?” You and two others are the only ones that raise your hands. “Interesting. Your name?” He asks the girl to the right of you.

“Yuki.” She answers softly.

“And yours?” He asks the other guy to the left of her, hands in the pockets of his slacks as he saunters across the room, like he fucking owns it, commanding the attention of everyone. The room is so quiet you can hear a pin drop.

“Ijichi.” He says.

Professor Gojo looks at you, and your pulse hammers in your throat, like it’s about to explode. You cannot breathe as his blue eyes laser focus on you, those frosty white lashes framing them, you remember him staring up at you, between your thighs, on his fucking knees.

“And you, your name?” You quietly give him your name, and he smirks at you, upturn to those devious fucking lips. You try not to wriggle under his gaze, tilting your chin up instead. “Ah. All right, so tell me why you’re here today.”

“To attend class?” The class laughs a bit, Gojo just grins, shaking his head at you.

“No, why are you here?”

“To become a lawyer.” You answer, firmer, as he walks up towards you now, stepping up the stairs of the large class and leaning on your desk with one of his long arms, big hand clutching the wood. Hands you can’t help but fucking stare at.

“Aren’t they all? But why did you choose to be?” He asks, leaning forward just a bit. You take a shaky breath, then look directly into that bright blue gaze of his, licking your lower lip, his eyes drop right to the action.

“I wanted to make a difference in people's lives. I want to give voices to those that may not have one.” You murmur, and he exhales, smirk back on, nodding.

“We all start for that, surely. Don’t we?” He asks the class, they nod, attentive to every word of his. He turns, walking back down the stairs and starting to write on the board.

Your heart pounds against your ribs, a flush creeping up your neck as you think of that night, burned into your goddamn brain for months. You were the one making those sounds, those moans, as he drank you up, you remember the taste of him, the feel of his tongue on your sensitive skin.

Your fingers itch to touch yourself, to remember how good it felt, and you burn with shame and embarrassment. The amount of times you had played with yourself thinking of him was borderline pathetic, and now here he was, mysterious little shit, and unattainable.

Fuck.

“Don't worry, we'll get along just fine, I’m pretty relaxed mostly. You could say I have the ‘rizz’.” He winks, and everyone snorts in laughter, but you can’t even focus. “I was where you were just a few years back. So it’s doable to advance if you bust your ass. Understood?”

They all nod, enraptured by him. Who wouldn’t be.

“But first, a few rules before we begin. One, you will address me as Professor Gojo, or Gojo, not my first name. I am very friendly and accessible as a teacher but that’s one thing I do ask.”

Satoru. Satoru… you’d fucking cried out. Jesus.

“Two, you will be respectful of your classmates and their opinions, and hear them out, even if the opinions are shit.” They break out in laughter again. “Shit opinions can be shit on later. Let em finish the dumb thoughts first, so I can fix them.”

They’re all nodding, they women are all swooning, he commands the entire goddamn room.

“Three, there will be no cell phone use during class unless it’s something important, which you can step out for. You spend enough time on your Instagram and Snap at home, not here. Using your laptop is fine for notes, not tentacle porn hentai, heathens.”

They burst out laughing now, and even you giggle, bringing his eyes to lock upon you, drinking you in.

“Do you understand these rules, class?"

When he pauses, your gaze meets his again, and you feel like you're drowning in those blue eyes. Does he remember you even? Did he care? A man that looks like him surely has numbers in the stratosphere, and he hadn’t bothered to get your number. Had he dipped all together?

Did he even like it?

Fuck.

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice amidst the chaos in your head. You manage to croak out a "Yes, Professor Gojo," with the class before looking down at your desk.

“Perfect. All right, so… Yuki, was it?” The girl nods eagerly. “Now, let's say that a student in this class was to break into my office and steal an exam. What would the possible criminal charges be?"

"Well, Professor Gojo, the student could be charged with burglary, as they entered the office without permission. Additionally, depending on the value of the exam, it could also be considered academic fraud punishable by law."

He nods. “Well said. Now… you.” He says your name, and you sit up straight, panicking, you can't help but notice the way he's looking at you. There's an intensity to his gaze that makes your heart race.

“Yes, Professor Gojo?”

He pauses, fixing you with his piercing blue eyes. "A similar scenario, but change it up. Let’s say you have invited me to your apartment, to stay the night, because I’m so charming.” He winks at the class, who are in a fit of giggles, and peers back at you. “You faint, because I was just that good looking, an understandable response.” He’s walking up to you. You raise a brow.

“I have a stronger constitution than that, Professor Gojo.” The class now gasps, some giggling at your answer. He grins, those white teeth blinding, fangs like a damn vampire showing.

“I see, impressive. But, nevertheless, you’re asleep, and you have invited me to stay the night. What if I steal an item of yours?”

The room goes silent as his words sink in. You feel your heart racing, your palms sweating. You try to gather your thoughts, but you can't help but feel unsettled by his line of questioning, of the images he’s painting in your overheated mind. Him in your damn apartment, between your…

"Well?" He prompts, leaning forward slightly. "What would you think is the appropriate course of action in such a scenario? Seeing as you have trusted me, a very handsome stranger, put yourself in the situation. With no proof."

You swallow hard, feeling a knot forming in your throat, it's as if he knows exactly how to push your buttons, to make you feel vulnerable and exposed. You try to compose yourself, to remember what you know, but you can't help but feel like you're drowning in the intensity of his presence, hard to breathe even.

"In that situation, Professor Gojo, I believe that the law would still consider it theft, even if you had a personal connection to me. The item would still belong to me, and taking it without my permission would be a violation of my rights." You pause, taking a deep breath before continuing. "However, I also think that the court might take into account the nature of our relationship and any possible mitigating factors, such as your intentions or remorse."

His eyes narrow, and for a moment, you think you see a glint of amusement in them. "An interesting answer," he says, "But remember, the law is not always concerned with intentions or mitigating factors. It is often a cold, impersonal thing, meant to uphold the greater good."

“That can be true, though without proof of having something I also think you would possibly get away with it. I haven’t itemized and taken pictures of everything in my home, so it could be hearsay.” He nods approvingly at that, grinning.

"That’s correct. Fortunately, however, I don't intend to break into your home anytime soon, so you won’t be fainting. From me at least.” The class laughs a bit at his joke, and you can feel your cheeks flush.

“You can break into my house!” Comes a shout from the back, and Gojo throws his head back in laughter, heading back down the stairs, along with the class.

“Calm down, heathens. Now listen, itemizing things or taking pictures is a good idea. So that when you invite handsome strangers you at least have something to go on. So, you all want to be lawyers, to help others, correct?”

Everyone nods.

“You could say that I was drawn to it for similar reasons to all of you.” He sits in his large office chair, tall brown leather, leaning back casually, throwing his legs up on the large desk. “Personally, I found the intricacies of the law fascinating, and I wanted to make a difference in people's lives too. Like you.” He nods to you, and you want to fall into a goddamn hole.

“But I also saw the potential for it to be used as a tool for justice, or perhaps even revenge in some cases, you can be a regular vigilante batman." His voice drops, taking on a more serious tone, intriguing you now, as did his every movement. "As your professor, my goal is to help you navigate these complexities and find your own path within the legal system. Whether that path leads you to is all up to you."

The classroom feels heavy with his words. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you yet again, and you feel as if he's not just talking about your future as a lawyer anymore. There's an intensity to this moment that you can't quite explain, and it leaves you feeling both exposed and strangely alive, every sense thrumming, including unfortunately your cunt.

Cunt he’d licked.

Fucking kill me.

When he licks his lips, you’re wrecked, how you’d focus at all today would be some sort of miracle.

The time passes quickly, and before you know it, the bell rings signifying the end of class. He is electrifying and intriguing as a teacher just as much as he was at the bar, the random dude that kissed you, that danced with you… was your first…

You gather your belongings, slowly making your way towards the exit. You feel a gentle yet insistent tap on your shoulder. You freeze, and turn around, finding yourself face-to-face with Professor Gojo, or Satoru? What would you call him in your head, and what did it matter. Your throat goes dry.

"Professor Gojo?" You say, a little taken aback, the class is filing out, leaving just the two of you in the huge lecture hall.

"Can you stay after for a moment?" He asks, and you gulp, desire shooting through you mixed with apprehension. You nod, feeling a sudden urge to run your hands through your hair or fiddle with something to steady your nerves.

“Sure.”

“Have a seat.” He says softly, going to shut the door with a click that echoes in the room, you feel like some high schooler about to get punished, but instead of worrying you the very thought thrills you far more than it should.

Stop thinking like that.

"What the fuck, Satoru?” You stand still as he comes walking back to you in long strides. You fold your arms in front of your chest, scowling up at the tall gorgeous man. “What even happened…"

"Shh." He covers your mouth with fingertip, then his thumb is tracing your bottom lip, want shoots through you hot, tummy clenching hard as he looms over you. "You're in my class now, and I need you to focus.”

“Fucking focus? On what? It’s goddamn near impossible.” You smack his hand off of you, glaring.

“I said. Have. A. Seat.” He whispers, commandingly, and for some fucking reason you listen, sitting down in his giant leather seat, as he sits up on the desk, casually crossing his stupidly long legs. “That’s better, pretty.”

“Do not even call me that.” You hiss, and he chuckles at you, rolling his eyes, shaking his head.

“Why are you mad at me when you just disappeared that night?” His thin white brows go low over his eyes, and you blink in confusion, frowning.

“Me? No, you. What six foot whatever-”

“Six-Four.”

Fuck that’s tall. “What Six-foot-four white haired dude just disappears in a crowd? Clearly you left. And if you didn’t like what we did, you could have just let me know and stopped! I-”

He’s standing in front of you now, arm on either side of you, glaring deeply into your eyes. You’re panting, he’s so fucking close… “You think I didn’t like eating your pussy?”

You’re dead silent, all the drive and determination has left you, nothing at all is there but an insane desire for it again. The memories wash over you. You manage a little nod, and he laughs at you, throwing his head back, before looking back over you, menacingly almost.

“You’re not as smart as I thought. Guess what…” He’s bent over completely, overtaking your senses. “I loved eating your little pussy. I can’t get the taste out of my goddamn mind.” You freeze, breathing in little pants, suddenly that blazer you wore to look professional feels too tight, suffocating.

“Why’d you disappear then?” You manage to choke out a whisper.

“I got a call from my friend, and I answered it for a moment when you ran into the bathroom again. I came back and looked everywhere, you were completely gone. I was going to…” He trails off, shaking his head and smirking again. “Never mind. So you thought I dipped. Aw, did it make you sad, poor little girl?” He caresses your face, you grit your teeth.

“Nope. Not at all.” You lie. He frowns, narrowing those obscenely beautiful blue eyes at you. “Just found it rude.”

“Are you sure you haven’t played with that tight cunt thinking of me?” He leans over, whispering, and you throb around goddamn nothing. You shake your heat, jaw clenched so hard it ached. He grins. “Liar.”

“Sue me.” You say with a raised brow, his grin just grows bigger.

“Smart ass little bitch.”

“Don’t call me that, asshole.”

“Don’t call your professor that.”

“Don’t look at your student like that.”

He raises a brow, eyeing your chest, where your nipples are hard against the lace of your bra. “Wear something where I can’t see those nipples perk up. Hmm, I didn’t see these, did I?” His hands brush down the side of your breasts, over your blazer, your blouse…

“And you won’t ever see them.” You shove at his chest, standing, and he grabs your wrists, tightly.

“You’d die for me too, wouldn’t you? Bet it was all you thought about as I did my lecture, me sucking on them. Poor little brat.” He yanks you against him, and you melt unwillingly.

“Nope, I sure the fuck wasn't. You act as if it was so monumental.” You roll your eyes, but you’re full of shit.

“Yeah fucking right, you’ve never cum like that, have you?” You scowl, you want to lie, but you just can’t manage it. His devious shithead grin is in full force. “I Knew it, you fell apart so easily.”

“What’s that even matter? And what do you want, Professor Dickhead.”

"You're a good student with insane test scores," he says, his voice low and serious. "But I need to make something clear. What happened between us will not interfere with your education. I won’t go any easier on you, I’ll push you just the same if not more."

“As if I’d want you to? Like I knew you’re a fucking professor. You seem like a whole idiot.”

He scowls now at you as well, you yank out of his grip, backing up until your ass is against his desk, and he’s barring you between his arms. “I didn’t know you were a fucking law student either. You don’t seem the type.” His eyes go up and down your body slowly.

“Fuck you. Professor Gojo. Respectfully.” You shove at him, feeling his hard chest under your hands, you falter.

“Fuck me, hmm? Baby girl, you can’t, you’re my student.”

“I’m sure the fuck not your ‘baby girl’. Who even eats out some random girl at a club anyway!”

He raises a brow, looking up and down your body, undressing you with his stupidly pretty gaze. “Who gets eaten out by a random guy at the club?”

“Ugh!” You shove at him again, he doesn’t budge, your eyes lock onto his and you suppress every base instinct to just kiss his glossy lips. “Fuck you.”

“You like to proposition me. How inappropriate, Miss Brat.”

“I have a name!”

“Miss Brat works better. Fits you more.”

“Professor Dickhead fits you!” He laughs at that, and shakes his head, caressing your face gently, and you freeze. He grows serious.

“I won’t push shit on you. I’m not trying to lose my job, or fuck up your law career, so you don’t really have to worry.” He bends low, a breath away from your lips now, and you tremble, eyes zooming in on them, remembering their taste. “Question is, can you focus when you’re dripping wet looking at me?”

“Oh you conceited fucking dick!” You haul off and smack him then, he grins, deviously, like he enjoyed it, a little red mark on his perfect face.

“Maybe play with your pussy before you come into class, get it all out of your system so you can focus.”

“I can’t fucking stand you! I can’t believe I even… that I…” You feel emotion catch in your throat, blinking it back rapidly, wanting to sob, as you thought you’d felt something, that you liked him.

He pouts a bit, watching you intently, tilting his head and brushing your hair back gently with his fingers. You hate how much you like it. He studies you carefully with those baby blues that you’d dreamt of, a serious look to his handsome face, a jawline you wanted to caress and punch simultaneously.

“That you what?” He whispers, and you shake your head.

“Nothing. I need to get to my next class. Please, move. I promise I won’t be pining away from you or some shit.” He clears his throat, easing back, hands in his pockets again.

“Good, that would be bad for both of us.” He mused, acting so casual, so nonchalant that it infuriated you.

“I imagine shit like that is common for you, right?”

“Eating out stupidly hot girls?” You shrug at that, refusing to acknowledge how that made you feel.. “It’s a favorite pastime of mine.”

“Yeah, that tracks.” You turn, grabbing your books, ass pressing against his hard body, and it makes you throb, thinking of that dance with him.

Something far too big and hard is against your ass, making you both tense. You bend over, feeling like torturing this asshole back just a bit, before standing back up, slowly turning and looking up at him. You smile a bit when you see his flustered look, breaking down the usual cockiness you have seen from him.

“Cat got your tongue, Professor?” You whisper, hugging the books to your chest tightly, he exhales, opening his mouth, and the bell rings again.

“Fuck.” He whispers, backing up just a moment and running his hand through his silky white hair.

“See you in class next week.” You say, and he pauses you again, making you scowl this time. “What are you playing at?”

“I didn’t disappear. I wanted your number or… something.” He mumbles, and you blink in surprise, your heart fluttering. “None of that matters now, anyway, we can’t… do anything. So.”

“Nope, we can’t.” You turn, walking, hearing him sigh.

“Whose class do you have, Miss Brat?” He asks, haughty, you glare at him over your shoulder. “Stop looking at me like that, it’s making things hard.”

“Don’t call me that, Professor Dickhead.” He snorts, you peek down at your schedule then. “It’s Contracts with Professor Nanami. Then after that, Torts with Professor Geto.”

“Fuck you’ve even got my best friends as your other teachers.”

“I really need to go. Just… forget it happened I guess?” Your heart aches as you say it, but what choice do you have? He frowns.

“That’s not happening and you know it. Just get a good vibrator and think of me, it should work. I could give you my business cards to get off to? My picture is pretty.” You flip him off, ignoring his laughter as you walk out of the room.

You struggle to breathe, leaning back against the cold wall of the hallway, wishing it would soothe your overheating skin. The man that you’d been thinking of for two months straight was your goddamn professor, not just that, he was the one that had the top internship opportunity.. You can still taste his lips on yours, taste yourself as he had kissed you…

It only makes it worse.

You walk quickly across campus until you get into Contracts, your cheeks burning from the memory of his hardness against you, and the anger from the way he acted, so fucking conceited, so immature. How the fuck was he the best lawyer for his age? You’d heard so much about him and never knew it was him…

Professor Nanami was ridiculously tall and handsome as well, dirty blonde hair and a tan suit over his buff body. You wonder just what the fuck this school is thinking, hiring all these models as professors, but he had no effect on you like he did the rest of the class. Luckily, he seemed humble, serious, more like what you would expect, but of course…

Your mind was wrapped around Professor Dickhead.

Just what would this semester be like?

And why do you ache so goddamn bad.

Forget him… forget it…

How?

You’re screwed.

Chapter 2

Also on a03 - Ch 1 https://archiveofourown.org/works/56895382/chapters/144669811

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #fanfic #anime and manga #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #smut #satoru gojo #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jujutsu satoru

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wandaslovey · 4 months ago

Text

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐢𝐭

➺ natasha romanoff x inexperienced!fem!bi!reader

*not my gif*

wc ~ 1.5k

a/n: just wanted to warn/emphasize.. reader is bisexual and this is kind of written where natasha is like her “bi awakening.”

a/n: okay so i wrote this months ago to dip my toes back into writing again… it’s definitely not my best work, but i wanted to get a natasha fic out there on my blog since i only have wanda fics on my master list rn.

cw: really none except that reader is an extreme overthinker

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••

“natasha, be for real right now. you know i don’t like going out.”

“c’mon. you’re young and beautiful and full of light and energy. you should be going out there, breaking boys hearts and making new friends.”

god she was insufferable. she was calling me beautiful? does she not see herself?? and breaking guys hearts, what’s that about?

“‘tasha you should know better than anyone that i’ve been steering clear of men lately. i just don’t want to be in a relationship right now.”

really the idea of it was wholly overwhelming. the thought of having to open myself up to rejection, make myself so vulnerable in front of a man (especially).. god knows there is a increasingly small percentage of men worthy of my vulnerability.

“oh god (Y/N), you don’t need to be in a relationship to have some fun. just let loose a little, that’s all,” she encourages with that devious little twinkle in her eye. an amused smile was playing on her lips and i knew she found my “uptightness” entertaining at times.

“are you saying i should go around having sex with random men?” i raise my eyebrows in accusation, though i knew i was taking her implication a step too far.

she rolls her eyes, a smile touching her lips.

“you know what i mean… i think a little kissing will loosen you up in a good way.”

i give her a look, one that clearly shows the fact that i think she’s being absurd before i turn back around and go back to scrolling on my phone.

“what was that look?” she asks, turning her body towards me in the swively chair that sat in front of my desk. she was hugging one knee up to her chest, the other dangling from the seat.

“nothing,” i mumble dismissively, shaking my head as i truly didn’t want to broach this subject with her at present.

“no no no, that wasn’t nothing. that was something. . . what, do you have something against kissing?”

her tone implies an edge that she didn’t really believe i had anything against kissing.. which would make her partially incorrect. i didn’t have anything against kissing, i was just extremely inexperienced and that made it all the more daunting.

“can we not talk about this? you seem all too invested in my ‘suggestive conduct.’”

suddenly she’s out of the chair and padding across the hardwood floor to where i was sitting criss cross applesauce in the middle of my made bed.

“this i have to know..” she sits next to me, seemingly effortlessly turning my body towards her so i’m facing her and she plucks the phone out of my hands, setting it beside her.

“you always dodge me when i start talking about things like this.” her facial expression was sinfully amused and i could sense that she was not going to let this go this time. i find myself swallowing a lump in my throat as for the umpteenth time, i’m taken aback by her beauty.

her orange red hair slightly wavy from her shower earlier and parted down the middle. her face was bare of any makeup which i felt only made her green eyes jump out more against her skin.

“nat, c’mon..” i plea with her to drop it, hoping she would lose interest in the subject.

she smiles at me, tilting her head as she takes in my slightly abashed expression.

“you’ve never been kissed before, have you?”

“no, no i have. it’s just been awhile,” i shrug, still trying to dismiss the subject by being nonchalant about it.

“how long?” she presses.

“like 5 years almost,”

“five years??” her mouth gapes slightly through her smile, her eyes bright and eager as if she was thoroughly entertained by this information.

“and that was your first kiss?” she adds after i hadn’t said anything.

“well no, it was my second kiss technically.”

“okay so, let me get this straight, you’ve only ever kissed 2 guys in your life and the last time was 5 years ago?” she tries to clarify to which i just nod my head and then shrug.

“why?” she asks, sounding genuinely surprised at learning my lack of experience.

i sigh, peeling my eyes from my lap to look at her as i reply. “i just didn’t have good experiences either time and it turned me off from really wanting to try it again. that’s all.”

“they weren’t good at kissing?”

“well.. i mean they were both fine, i guess. i don’t have much to compare it to. i just didn’t really want to kiss either of them. i just did it because i was afraid to hurt their feelings. then afterwards i ended up regretting it because it wasn’t that good enough for it to justify doing it casually.”

she nods her head once at my words, taking in my explanation.

“and now? you’re afraid your next experiences will be the same?”

“um well.. yeah i think so. i’m also just embarrassed by my lack of experience. i’ve just gotten it in my head that i’m a terrible kisser.” i cast my eyes down again, feeling a little

embarrassed at having admitted this to her.

she smirks, the sound causing me to shrink further into myself even though i could tell she was trying to muffle her reaction.

“now why would you think something like that?”

her voice had a bit of a suggestive edge to it, causing my body to be on even more alert.

“i don’t know… i just do,” my eyes were still downcast, my fingers fidgeting with the hair tie around my wrist. it was quiet between us for several beats and i feel my face start to heat up in the silence.

just as i was about to say something, anything to break the silence, i feel her fingers under my chin, lifting my face up to look at her.

“you think you might want some practice?”

she asks me out of the blue. her eyes were intent on mine, a sinful, unabashed smile on her face. immediately, my heart rate picked up and i had to remind myself to breath normally as to not have an outward reaction to her question.

“wh..huh?” i ask confused, my mind already beginning to feel foggy at the thought of kissing the natasha romanoff.

“well now i’m curious to know if you are a bad kisser or not.” she was shameless. confidence in her suggestion practically radiating from her form. her eyes slowly travel down my face to my lips before she flicks them back up to my eyes.

“will you let me kiss you? i won’t bite,” she slowly leans in closer to me, her eyes naturally drifting to my lips again.

“i..i can’t.” i breath out, my lips parting as i breathe through my mouth. my eyes were scanning all over her face, frantic as i try to find an excuse to weasel out of this.

i want to kiss her.. i really do. but if i really was a bad kisser and she found out, i would be utterly mortified.

“nat…” i try, leaning back just slightly to put a couple more inches distance between us.

she follows my movement, leaning her body forward as i lean back, closing the gap i created as soon as it was there. i’m assaulted by her smell. it was like cinnamon, vanilla and sandalwood and completely intoxicating.

“don’t think about it too much. i can practically hear the overthinking in that head of yours,” she smiles.

“wh-what if i’m bad at it?” i try to reason with her, to save both her and myself from this experience. she shakes her head, that amused smile still playing on her lips.

“shh.. sweet girl. just relax your lips and follow my lead, okay?” one of her hands reaches up and tucks some hair behind my ear. her fingertips linger on my jaw as she leans in closer. i am utterly captivated, unable to even think properly as i find myself in the most surreal situation.

i close my eyes when her face was merely centimeters away. i can feel the warmth of her face and the tension, almost palpable now that we were so close. i tilt my head up ever so slightly, anticipating her lips against mine.

as i wait, it feels like the seconds drag on. i can hear my heart beating in my ears, smell vanilla and cinnamon and taste natasha’s breath on my tongue.

i was about to peek my eyes open when i finally feel her lips press against mine. it starts out as a close mouthed kiss, but after a mere couple of seconds, her lips part and i easily follow her lead through the kiss. she pulls away all too quickly, and i find myself immediately missing the loss of her lips.

“was that so scary detka?” she murmurs, her voice sounding even lower than normal.

i couldn’t be too sure how i looked to her, but my vision seemed hazy and i was almost positive i had a drunk expression on my face.

i shake my head from side to side.

“no.”

she hums and then brings a hand to my face, ever so gently brushing the back of her knuckles against my cheek. “ty tak milo nevinen. eto dragotsenno.” she leans in again, kissing me more firmly this time. i respond eagerly, meshing my lips around hers.

my insecurities and worries melted away the longer we kissed, the space between our where my body ended and hers began becoming lost.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff #natasha x you

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starboye · 6 months ago

Text

pairing: kj apa x male reader x jacob elordi

request: Hi I'm the one that requested the Dom top kj apa and Dom top Jacob elordy and male reader threesome for all three of them on vacation together and reader gets horny seeing KJ and Jacob in their Speedos and they go back to the hotel room as soon as they get into the door reader drops to his knees and starts worshiping KJ and Jacobs bulges pulls down there Speedos and start sucking both their dicks and they take turns face fucking him till they come then they throw reader on the bed and start taking turns fucking reader then they both take reader at the same time if that's okay either they're all dating or readers a fan that meets them if that's okay or whatever you decide I love reading your stories

warnings: SMUT, oral sex, double penetration, degrading, daddy kink kinda, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), breeding kink if you squint, face fucking, rough sex, cursing

words: 2k

kj apa and jacob elordi... no need to elaborate further, some of the finest men to ever roam the earth and now they were at your job in the tightest speedos that hugged the right places, their bodies were glistening in the summer heat while they sunbathed by the pool, looking as hot as ever, so you decided to approach them.

"hello gentlemen would you like anything eat" you ask approaching them "aside from you, no" jacob says with a smirk on his face as he lifts up his glasses to see you better, you began to blush from just his comment "what do you think kj should we" jacob asks tapping kj on the shoulder to get his attention.

"yeah he looks good enough" kj says smiling, you stood there wondering what they were conversing about but as your mind started to race jacob got your attention back "wanna go back to our place" jacob asks "I don't know I couldn't just leave my job" you say a little worried "c'mon it'll be fun" jacob says trying to convince you the best he can.

"fine I guess I could" you agree, a devious grin immediately creeps across kj and jacobs faces before he grabs your hand and brings you to their room, as soon as you walk through the door kj pushes you down your knees, you go down with a small gasp, looking up at them nervously wondering what they were gonna do "don't be shy, get to work" jacob says and with that you begin sniffing their bulges.

inhaling their intoxicating scents so eagerly, you switch between kj and jacobs bulge, worshipping and groping them "you want them dontcha" kj asks pressing your face further onto his crotch as you felt his dick harden "mhm" you replied muffled "ya think we should give it to him" kj asks jacob as they both watch you become a slut over their bodies.

"definitely" jacob chuckles, kj and jacob then pulls out their thick dicks, you could feel the heat radiating from them "go on suck it" jacob orders and you oblige and immediately begin sucking his dick, struggling to even make it to the shaft "come on you got this just relax" jacob says pushing your head further down his dick making you gag, kj watching with lustful eyes as he strokes his dick eagerly awaiting his turn.

"fuck this is good" jacob groans letting you pull of his dick to get a breath "sir I don't think I can take this" you say "nonsense just try again" jacob replies pushing your head back on his dick and all the way to the base, making you choke and gag, jacob could feel so far in your warm throat, as it spasms around his thickness, he let out a couple low groans before emptying his cum into your mouth, forcing you to swallow it all.

"me next" kj says grabbing you by the hair and pulling you onto his dick with no break from the previous throat fucking, you placed you hands onto kj's thighs for some stability as you felt him hit the back of your throat with every thrust into your mouth "damn you really loosened him up for me" kj says through closed teeth as the only sounds coming from you were gurgles, moans, and wet throat noises before all that was finally silenced with the feeling of kjs' cum flooding your mouth.

you swallow all the cum down with a big gulp as kj pats your head to signal a thank you "well thanks for the time gentlemen but I really should get going" you say raising to your feet and heading for the door "don't be ridiculous now baby, we're not done" jacob says as he backs you onto the bed, you drop into the bed as you looked up at the tall burly man, kj and jacob began taking all your clothes all leaving you naked and nervous in front of them "such a pretty body too, cant wait to ruin it" kj says rubbing his hands up and down your body.

"i call first" jacob says "I wanna go first" kj argues back "but I called dibs first" jacob retorts "but im already right here so" kj replies, it was your dream come true, your two favorite (and hottest) celebrity crushes fighting over who'd get to use your hole first, you could've came right then and there "who do you want to fuck you first" kj asks bringing you into the argument seeing as it was your hole, you looked at both of them nervously not knowing if one answer was the right or wrong one "jacob" you say shyly.

"ha told you I'm better" jacob boasts moving kj out of the way to place himself between your legs "yeah yeah what ever" kj says moving out of the way "just know I'ma fuck the shit out of you once I get my turn" kj whispers in your ear obviously a little furious you'd rather get fucked by jacob before him "leave him alone you're scaring him" jacob says aligning him self with your hole and then sliding his thick cock in making you moan out loudly "oh fuck, you okay" jacob asks wanting to make sure he wasn't hurting you.

"yeah I'm good" you say with shut eyes "okay then" jacob smirks before moving his dick deeper, you let out small whimpers as jacob went deep and deeper in you, making you grip the sheets for stability "so deep" you mutter "you got this just a little more" kj encourages caressing your head, you look up at his with teary eyes, but he looked at you with lustful needy eyes "there we go" jacob says all the way in you "you look so full" kj says rubbing the slight bulge in your belly "fuck me please" you whimper lowly "speak up for me" jacob says "please fuck me" you say louder.

"ask and you shall receive" jacob says plunging in and out of you slowly but soon picking up pace, you could feel his dick reaching places in you that had never been touched or even grazed, you could feel your brain turning to mush as you became dumb on dick, wanting more and more of it "you like that" kj asks "mhm" you nod holding onto his hand tightly as jacob gripped his large hands into your hips "please please go faster" you beg "are you sure you could take that" jacob asks "I don't care please just go faster" you plea wrapping your legs around his waists to lock him in place.

"fine whatever you say" jacob says putting you in full mating press, knees around jacobs shoulders and hole on full display before he slams into you roughly again and again giving you no time to recover from his relentless pace "fuck fuck fuck" you moan as you could feel your climax coming soon "I love your dick so much" you whine out loudly as the bed creaked with each plap on your ass, although you couldn't see kj you could feel his eyes burning into your skull as he stared at you with jealousy written all over his face "you want me to cum in this hole" jacob huskily asks "please do daddy, I wanna feel you flood my guts" you moan out.

jacob doesn't say anything and continue ls pounding you out roughly and after a couple more thrusts he cums in you, his dick twitching as you tightened around him wanting every drop of cum "damn you know how to take some dick" jacob chuckles pulling out of you and moving out of the way for a very mad kj to step in front of you with a mad expression on his face "please fuck me sir" you whine fingering your loose hole as the cum drips out "one eager slut huh" kj says thrusting into you without warning and giving you zero time to adjust, he pounds into you with no slowing down "wait please" you try and stop his thrusts.

"ah ah don't fucking move, your slutty ass wanted this now have it" kj sternly says with a hint of anger "you're so thick" you moan "and you love it don't you" kj retorts gripping your thighs with a lot of force, and before you could even reply you feel you climax at its highest, begging to be let out "can i please cum" you plea weakly "bo youre gonna hold it in like a good boy till we say so" kj orders, and although you wanted to blow your load so bad you did as you were told and held your load, tip red from the straining "good boy now take this cum" kj groans as he cums in you for the second time, filling you with so much cum it felt like you were pregnant.

"still not done" jacob says lifting you up laying you on his chest in full nelson position, "wait please I'm so tired" you weakly say "rest when we're done with you" kj says getting on the bed out scooting between your legs and slapping his again hard dick on your hole "just one more time for us baby" jacob coos kissing your cheek as he slides his dick up into you making you drop your head onto his shoulder, already feeling so full you feel over more stretched out when kj pushes into you roughly, a slew of heavy breaths fall from your mouth along with shallow moans "so full" you mutter.

jacob and kj look at each other and smirk before moving their cocks back and forth in you, you could fell the friction of both dicks moving on you, the left over cum working as lube to make it easier "please please please" you beg "use your words for us baby, what do you want" jacob asks "your cum... please cum in me daddy" you beg rutting your hips weak and erratically "what do you think kj, ya think the slut deserves another load" jacob asks pulling your face up to look at kjs' "he's done so good for us lately so I think we should let him have it" kj says grunt as he feels his climax coming for the third time "but don't think we're gonna leave you outta the fun" jacob chuckles wrapping his large hand around your aching dick and stroking it with a relentlessly fast pace.

you moan out at the overwhelming amount of ecstasy going on "m'gonna cum" you yell before you cum in jacobs hand, he still jerks you off even after you've cum too help you ride out your high, you nearly faint from the sex but kj lightly smacks your cheek to bring you back "don't give out on us now" kj smirks watching you hold onto what ever sanity you have slip away, after what gelt like an eternity of relentless fucking, you could make out jacob and kj saying they're about to cum, and not long after you felt both of their cums flood your guts, both of them groaning out and still thrusting into you after cumming to make sure the cum stays in you.

you fell asleep after that but you could hear kj and jacob bragging about how they fucked you to sleep and how they did so well, you woke up to an empty room that still reeked of the smell of sex, naked and feeling weak, you felt something in your and moved your hand down to see what it was, as you felt it you realized it was a butt plug, as you came to your senses you looked over to see there was a note on the table the note read "if you're reading this we're gone but if you're whole job thing doesn't work out you could come 'work' for us ;)" you read the note and chuckled, turning it over you saw both of their numbers.

although when you did come back down to your job your boss fired you immediately for leaving your shift early but it all worked out because now you get too be a free use slut too the hottest men ever, getting filled load after load any time of the day.

taglist: @mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m

#kj apa x male reader #kj apa #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x male reader #x male reader #gay smut #x male smut #x male y/n #bottom male reader

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a-spes · 7 months ago

Text

| DEVIOUS LIES — Part two (8.790 words).

| Summary — Anon Request — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It has been two years, and you can't stop think about what you lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.

| Tags & warnings — Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader, AoS!OC x Avenger!Reader, Other Avengers, angst without comfort, cheating, mental health issues, suicidal ideations, self depreciation, mentions of SA&SH, manipulation, toxic relationship (OCxR), revenge porn, use of drugs.

| Author's notes — I don't know how I feel about that second part, i'm not sure i like it, but now it's written it costs me nothing to share. So here we are. I can just hope that I managed to convey, at least a little, the emotions I wanted to. And, most importantly, take care of yourself.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).

Almost a year has gone by, and it means one thing: in a few weeks, it’s going to be Natasha's birthday, again. The woman is not sure how she feels about it. She never really had a birthday before she joined the Avengers, and despite the years that have passed since, she still feels a certain awkwardness at this time of the year. Especially as the boys tended to do too much.

She could only pretend to match their enthusiasm. A slight smile spreads across her face as she takes a sip from her drink, staying silent. She has been listening to her teammates talking about her birthday’s party for almost half an hour now. She stopped trying to avoid it a long time ago, when she realized how much they enjoyed organizing this stupid party. She can deal with anything they’re going to come up with if she gets to see their smiles in exchange. Her sentence won’t last more than a few hours, but the memories are going to stick with them for eternity, and it has no price.

"Wait, you know what?” someone asked. It was Clint, and by the mischievous smile on his face, the redhead already knew that she wouldn't appreciate the next words that are going to come out of his mouth. “I think we should have the mascot come over again," he added, his eyes not leaving hers. "What? It was funny to have a cartoon version of you running around," he defended himself when he saw her glance darkening.

"You know what? Do whatever you want," she mumbled, “it’s not as if you were asking for my opinion anyway,” she eventually gave in. Sometimes, you have to know how to pick your battles, and that is one she definitely cannot win, not when all the others seem to appreciate the idea.

"That’s such a great idea!” one exclaimed, and this time it was Peter Parker, “Mr. Stark, do you think they would accept to come again?” he asked the man.

"Obviously!" Tony replied without an ounce of hesitation, laughing at the question. The man thought it was a stupid thing to ask, "she likes you too much to miss your birthday,” he explained, pointing at the redhead while saying those words. "What? She pretends it’s not true, but I know she is lying. I can see right through her and, believe me, she’ll be here," he explained when he noticed the confused looks of his teammates.

"Who’s she?" a voice asked, cutting short to Tony’s rambling. That’s the question that has been on everyone’s minds, but that no one dared to ask out loud, except for one of them — And it hasn’t been Natasha, it is Steve that spoke first.

On the contrary, the woman remained silent because she didn’t need words to express herself, a silent conversation taking place between the billionaire and her through a simple glance. Even if she already has her suspicions, and is almost sure that she knows the answer to that question, she wants him to say it, refusing to believe it otherwise.

The moment she saw the box, she was intrigued by it, something drawing the woman to the small package that no one claimed as theirs. It’s almost as if it came out of nowhere, no one knowing who left it here, or what may be inside the black box. At first, she thought it was some joke, but she knew they were being honest when saying they had nothing to do with the gift. And if she had expected a lot of things to be wrapped in the red ribbon, she definitely wasn’t ready for a ghost from her past to emerge from it.

A quick glance before she suddenly closes the box again, that’s all it took for the redhead to know who was behind that gift. The only thing she could think about was how — How did it happen without any of them noticing your presence? Despite the appearances, and the smile she was trying to keep on, the woman was shaken — Why would you do that, more than two years after your break up? Could it be that you are that desperate?

"Is everything okay?" Clint asked, being the only one to seem to notice a change in Natasha’s behavior. At least, everyone had enough restraint to not ask the question that burns their lips — What’s inside the box?

She wouldn’t have answered if one of them had asked. She wouldn’t even have opened the gift if she had known that it was from you, and that’s probably why you left it on the table, avoiding giving it to her directly. Smart girl, she thought. At first sight, the woman couldn’t tell it was coming from you but there was no doubt remaining once she saw the content — There is only one person on Earth that cares enough to give her such a gift. A person that constantly looks after her, guessing what the redhead wasn’t telling.

A person that she used to love.

A person that couldn’t be here, was she? The woman can’t help but glance around but she can’t find your face. What was she expecting anyway? To see you in the corner of the room with a bright smile and your arms open for her to throw herself in a hug? That was stupid, and so is the hint of hope she felt when she opened the box. The others told her many times she has to turn the page, but she doesn’t seem ready to let you go. Even after two years, she is still craving your presence as much as before.

The thought of it puts to shame the redhead who knows she shouldn’t hold on to the past, especially when the past in question has a pretty face and breaks her heart. Even after what you’ve done to her, she has spent hours crying, praying for you to come back. Even after listening to the others assuring her that she deserves better, she couldn’t forget how you’ve always been the most caring, and strong, and beautiful person she has ever met in her life.

You weren’t horrible. Were you?

Sometimes, she thinks you are a monster.

Sometimes, she thinks she is, for not listening to you that day.

That day, she let her anger speak for her, something she swore she would never do again. When she started to realize that, maybe, she should’ve listened to your version of the events, it was too late. At the time, she couldn’t bear to hear the sound of your voice or see your voice, but after two years, as the memory of it starts to fade away, she surprised herself to miss it.

Except that Fury had refused to tell her where you were. She tried to ask nicely, to beg, and even to threaten the man, but none of it worked. He said that you needed time, that you’ll be back when you are ready, not before. Despite her frustration, the woman accepted it. After all, she is the one to blame, the one that puts herself in such a situation. She could only hold on to the fact that, one day, you’ll be back. Right? As the days go by, the likelihood of ever seeing you again is gradually diminishing. Some nights, when she can’t sleep, she stays up, eyes fixed on her laptop’s screen — Maybe she could give fate a helping hand? She knows she could find you easily. Yet, despite her urge to do it, she has always ended up closing her laptop without starting the research.

She has to trust Fury, she repeats to herself. Even if she sometimes disagrees with the man, even if it’s frustrating, she has to believe him when he says that you are safe.

Some other nights, all she can feel is anger, and hatred. The redhead is lost, and scared, again, something she never thought she would feel again the day you two met. What if it was true, and you really cheated on her? Then, you could do it again if she forgives you, because history always repeats itself, and you are no exception to the rules of the universe. She knows how people tend to promise a lot of things that they don’t mean, especially when they are desperate, which is exactly what you’ve been that day. She couldn’t forget the look on your face when she dragged you out of the building, the despair in those bright eyes, glistening with tears. This is the only thing she can remember when she thinks about you. Not the good moments you’ve shared, only the brutality of the end of your relationship.

You've abandoned her, and so did she.

It has been three since she last saw you, and almost a year since her birthday party, but the woman couldn’t stop thinking about it. She didn’t take the gift, leaving the jewelry in the box, and the box on a shelf. She hasn't touched it since. How could she when just the sight of it was already too much to bear?

Every day, when she wakes up, it is one of the first things she sees, and one of the last when she goes to sleep. If it doesn’t feel right to the woman to take the gift, it doesn’t feel right to throw it in the bin either, so it stayed here as a constant reminder of what she has done. Every time she thinks she is finally over it, the box rekindles her doubts. There are some things she can’t quite understand about the situation, and why you would give her such a gift, two years after she kicked you out, is one of them.

Maybe it was a poisoned gift. Maybe it was a sick trick to make her feel guilty, a way to get her to crawl back to you. Beside these possibilities, she couldn’t think of any others that were likely, and she was afraid to admit that your plan was working. The box was a permanent reminder of your existence, something she couldn’t get herself to give away because of those dumb feelings she was experiencing. Somehow, she was holding on to that last piece of your years together after she threw away everything else with the help of the team.

The pictures, the clothes, the gifts, even your favorite cutlery has been burned a few days after you left them. It is almost as if you’ve never stepped a foot into the building, as if you’ve never existed. The woman was fine with the idea of pretending that nothing happened — She was fine with the idea of erasing every remaining part of your relationship.

Except that black box. It is stupid how she hangs onto that last proof of the relationship she once had with you. She had burned everything, but she couldn’t get herself to do the same with that gift. Maybe because she knew that she could never erase you completely from her life. She surely could pretend, it is a game she is really good at, but you would always be on the back of her mind because memories don't go away as easily as objects do.

Since she had opened the box, doubt had been creeping inside of her — What if? What if she has been wrong the whole time? What if she should have listened to you? Give you a second chance? That day, her reaction had been dictated by anger and hatred, feelings that still inhabit her soul, but have faded over the years. For two years, she had been sure that she made the right choice — At least, that’s what everyone kept telling the woman, and she listened to their comforting words.

But since she opened the box, she was no longer sure of anything. She wasn’t the one that wanted you gone in the first place. She surely needed a bit of space before being able to talk with you properly, but only a few days, maybe a few weeks, not two years, and definitely not more than that. That little box only worsened her doubt because who would be desperate enough to still cling to the person they betrayed, years after the events? A person truly in love. She had kept her doubts for herself before that day. If she is almost sure of the identity of the person who gave her the box, because there is only one person on that planet that cares enough to gift her something so meaningful, there are still a lot of questions to which she doesn’t have the answers — For example, how did you manage to sneak into the building without everyone knowing? She now knows that someone knew the whole time.

“Tell me,” she firmly asked the man, leaving little room for discussion.

No one pointed out the thing he has said about the mascot, the subject of the conversation quickly changed after that. Except, while they were talking about which flavor the cake should be, Natasha could think of nothing but Tony’s words — “She likes you too much to miss your birthday”, “she pretends it’s not true but I know she is lying.” So when everyone eventually decided to go back to their rooms, around two in the morning, she stayed a bit longer in the common room in hope of getting some information.

“Sorryy, I can’t, I don’t know anything,” the man replied, indifferent to her tone, “anything at all,” he repeated, chuckling like a child who has done something wrong.

The woman sighs, pinching her nose as she takes a deep breath, trying to not lash out her frustration on the man. The conversation isn’t exactly going the way she had hoped, Tony refusing to answer her question no matter how many times she has already asked. She even tried to blackmail him, but he was persistent in pretending that he didn’t know anything. When he almost falls on the ground trying to get a few steps back, it has been the last straw for the woman. Gladly, someone entered the room before she could hit him so hard that it would have sobered him in an instant.

"Is everything okay?" the voice asked, and both of them immediately shut up to turn their heads toward the woman who just entered the room, Astrid. She is leaning in the doorway, her gaze alternating between Tony and Natasha.

She hates her. Not as much as she hates you, but she still feels resentful toward the agent. When she smiles, when she speaks, even when she is just here, existing, the woman can’t help but hate her from the depths of her heart. Gladly, she rarely sees her, as an agent of the S.H.I.E.L.D., she is only around when they have outstanding missions. If Natasha had a choice, she would’ve thrown her away with you that day.

"She wants me to admit that her girlfriend was the one in the costume," he immediately replied, "but sshht, we can’t let her know that!" he added, holding his index finger in front of his mouth for a few seconds before leaving the room giggling.

"I know what happened," she eventually said when she noticed that Natasha was about to leave after a few seconds when they glanced at each other in silence. "Th- That night, in the motel room~," she added, her voice being hesitant. Those words made the redhead stop in her tracks.

"If you're about to rub in my face how you've ruined my life, you can shut up," she immediately cut her, not wanting to listen to the woman, not if it’s to tell her about how she fucked the woman she loves. Her voice was full of anger, just like the murderous look in her eyes. The only thing that prevented the woman from immediately leaving the room was the thing she saw in the other’s eyes. Her attitude betrayed her emotions, a mix of guilt, sadness, and shame, which aroused her curiosity.

With a nod, she ordered her to continue.

That morning, as many others, you are woken up by your girlfriend’s gentle touches, her fingers slowly tracing circles on your stomach. A hum of satisfaction escapes your lips before your turn around, nuzzling your head further into the crook of her neck.

How could you have known it would be the last time? How could you have possibly guessed that the routine you’ve got used to would be broken so quickly?

Every morning, it is the same thing, and while the former spy has no problems getting up early, you definitely can’t say the same for yourself. She is always awake before you are and, even if she had never admitted it, you are sure that she takes a few minutes to observe your sleeping form. She loves seeing you so peaceful and calm, being able to have a glimpse of your face without those worry lines, without the marks of your anxieties.

She is always the one who wakes you up, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. There is no better way to start a day than Natasha’s sweet words and caresses. It’s her fault if you never want to get out of bed, wishing every morning that you could stay in that bed, next to her, for the rest of your life. Sometimes, you suggest that you tell the others you are sick, just to spend a day together, but she just laughs, dismissing your idea.

But all the good things must come to an end, right?

"It's time to get up, milaya," she softly said in your ear, her breath tickling your skin, "Astrid won't be happy if you are late again," she added when the only answer you gave her was a groan of discontent.

"They won't say anything if I am late once, it's okay", you mumbled, her words not being enough to convince you to leave the comfort of her arms.

Especially when you realize that there is nothing to get excited about the day ahead of you, in perspective, only hours spent in an office, listening to men who think they know everything better than you do. Today, you are supposed to attend an important meeting alongside Astrid, and you still don’t know why you volunteered. The thought of the paperwork and the efforts that you will have to put in pretending that you are actually happy to be here definitely don’t worth your pay.

Except that you’ve lied to Natasha, and she knows it. This is definitely not the first time that you are being late, it happens almost every day, to the point that the day you are in time can probably be counted on your hands. Gladly, when you are coming in the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters, it's Astrid who’s your supervisor, and she appears to also be your best friend. Most of the time, she is kind enough to accept to close her eyes on your delays. Today, you came in only ten minutes late, and the woman was somehow impressed, expecting you to be later than that.

“You’re late, again,” she replied, obviously waiting for an excuse that you don't have. She would know if you are lying to her, and you don't have the energy for that kind of game today, and you could see that the woman neither. She was starting to get tired of every day starting with the same bullshit coming from your mouth.

“I am so, so, sorry,” you said to her for what may be the tenth time since you’ve entered the office. She is walking fast, and you are trying to catch up with the black-haired woman, who is also your superior within the S.H.I.E.L.D. “Please, don’t tell Fury,” you begged, but all she did was roll her eyes, and give you a file when you eventually reached her office. You quickly glanced at it before closing it again, your attention focused on the woman, “Astrid, I am serious. He is going to give me more paperwork if you do. Or worse. Imagine if he forces me to train the new recruits, you know I can’t do that again. Please, …,” you added, looking at her imploringly.

“And what do I have in exchange?” she sighed, turning around to look at you, one eyebrow raised. Despite her serious expression, you know she was trying to not laugh. She may be your boss, but above all she is your friend, and you both know that she would never tell Fury about your delays. Even if she has threatened you to do so a few times in the past, she has never actually done it. Yet, this time she felt like she needed something in exchange, she had covered for you enough time for free, and you were happy to thank your friend with whatever she may want.

“Anything you want!” you replied, desperate but no less honest.

“Tonight, after work, you pay me a drink, deal?” she asked after pretending to think for a few seconds. In reality, she already knew what she wanted from you. She has thought about asking you out since the moment you met, something you’ve never noticed, always reducing her to the role of a friend, and not keeping up on the clues she was leaving you. Tonight, however, she will be clearer than she has ever been.

“Deal!” you immediately said, accepting the proposal without thinking twice about it. "Thank you. Thank you so, so much. You are the best," you added, kissing your friend on the cheek before leaving the room quickly, a sight that made the woman chuckle.

It is a deal that makes you both happy. You have met Astrid at the Academy, when you were both trainees that dreamed of joining the S.H.I.E.L.D. without even knowing if you were good enough for that. The two of you quickly became close — That’s the kind of thing that happens where you are the only two females of your promotion. Either you hate each other over your dead bodies, or you grow so close that you become inseparable.

Except that, since you've both achieved your dreams and joined S.H.I.E.L.D, something changed in your relationship. It wasn’t your fault, nor hers, that you had less time to see each other, your jobs taking a lot of your time and energy. Then you've been assigned on a long-term mission with the Avengers, and you’ve spent less time at the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters despite still working for the organization. Then you've met Natasha, and you feel like you’ve slightly grown apart from each other after you’ve announced to her your new relationship. On the whole, you had less time to spend with your best friend, and the promises to make up for the lost time have never been kept, not until today. That deal was the perfect occasion to spend a bit of time together outside of the office work.

You both really hoped that this night would make things back as they were before.

"You know, I love her," she confessed to the redhead, her voice being barely louder than a whisper as she felt tears filling her eyes. "Since the day we met, I have loved her. That's what I told her, that night, when we went out," she admitted, and Natasha felt her heart pounding in her chest, her hands were shaking with apprehension, “but she rejected me. She loves you so much, too much," she sadly chuckled, but the redhead felt no relief when she heard those words because they were not explaining the pictures. She can't cry, not now, not in front of that woman.

"Continue," she ordered, feeling that the woman had more to say than that. She already knew that Astrid loved you, you may be the only one that hadn't seen it, or maybe you were pretending, or maybe you were blinded by your love for Natasha.

"I didn't plan to do that, you know," she started, carefully looking at the spy, "but I was so desperate that night, and I-," she said, except she was unable to finish her sentence, the words stuck in her throat.

The past three years, she had kept the truth a secret. At first, she thought it was better that way. The woman was ashamed of her actions, and she was relieved when heard that you’ve been transferred to another department, and she thought that her secret would be safe. Except that, if everyone acted as if you’ve never existed, her mind didn’t allow her to forget. Every hour of every day, you were in her mind, and the longer she thought about that night, the biggesther guilt became, until the burden was too heavy to bear. Tonight, hearing them argue about you, has been the last straw.

“What did you do?” she asked, sensing that something was wrong. She didn’t like the feeling that was creeping inside of her, “what. did. you. do.?” she asked once again, but more firmly that time, when the other didn’t immediately answer her question. As she saw the hesitation, she reduced the distance between them in a second, her hand gripping the collar of Astrid’s shirt that she pins to the wall abruptly, “tell me. Now,” she insisted as the interaction only reinforced the bad feeling she had.

That morning, unlike the others, you woke up alone. There haven’t been the gentle caresses of your girlfriend to wake you up, nor her sweet words to coax you into getting up. No, that day, it was only yourself, draped into the cold sheets, and it felt so strange, the silence and the loneliness of the room. Sadly, it has not been the exception you’ve wished it would be, but only the first of too many mornings like that.

In the sleepy state you were in, it took you a few seconds to realize that something was wrong, and almost a minute before you noticed that you weren’t home. You couldn’t even recognize the place you were in, only knowing that it looked like a hotel, a shitty one if you might say. The room was small, simple, and not-so-comfortable. There was something in the ambience that gave you an uneasy feeling about the whole thing, but you were unable to say what it was exactly.

Your head is throbbing, and you are definitely feeling nauseous, but you know that’s not the problem. Your physical distress isn’t the cause of the weight on your chest, the one that makes your breath aching, it’s something else that your mind can’t comprehend yet. It’s all these inconsistencies. The missing memories of last night, the unknown room, the fact that you are alone,... you don’t remember drinking that much last night. You may not be the most responsible person that planet has known, but you know how to handle yourself. Usually.

Could you have possibly drunk that much?

The day has barely started, but you already know it is going to be a rough one. If only you knew how right you were, maybe you would have taken a few more hours of sleep, enjoying the comfortable peace of your old life a bit longer before joining the chaos. Yet, you had no means to guess that your day would go that way.

It's a note left on the bedside table that answered all your questions, easing some of the worries that were creeping inside of you. Someone has written the following words : “Couldn’t get you home because of how drunk you were. don’t worry about being late today, I won’t tell Fury. however, had to go on a mission, be careful when you go home. I left you a bit of money, it should be enough to pay for the room and an Uber. Love you.” The message might not have been signed, but you can easily recognize Astrid’s handwriting. A smile spreads across your lips as you are reassured, the situation not being as bad as your mind made it look.

Some memories of last night flew back in your mind, but it’s only a glimpse of what happened, a lot of the events staying unknown to yourself. The last thing you can remember is the conversation you had with Astrid, when she admitted that she loved you and you replied that you too, thinking she meant as friends because you couldn’t see her any other way, not when you were already engaged in a relationship. The rest of the exchange is confused, and you are not sure what’s real and what has been made up by alcohol. Even today, you are still not sure.

Maybe you’ve really drunk too much that night.

Knowing that you’ve been with Astrid the whole time was reassuring, and you are no longer as bothered by the absence of memories. For a moment, you thought you'd been kidnapped by some weird man. As you regain your composure, your thoughts become clearer and you decide that the first thing you should do is to send a message to your girlfriend. She must be so worried, and your heart aches at the thought that you might be a source of problem for the woman you love.

It is not your kind to not keep your promises, and you’ve told her you would be home last night. It is not your kind either to not answer her messages or calls. In reality, you are quite the opposite, always sending her hundreds of messages when you are out with your friends. The only reason she hasn’t got after you is because she knew you were with Astrid, and she trusted you. However, the sweet messages are going to have to wait because, when you try to turn your phone on, you only encounter a black screen, a sign that you’ve run out of battery. Obviously, your friend didn’t think to leave you a charger.

You sigh, admitting your defeat. Shaking your phone surely won’t change the situation. For the moment, there is nothing more you can do, except hoping that Natasha won’t be too angry. As you are getting ready, your mind is focused on how to earn the redhead’s forgiveness — Maybe you could stop to buy her some flowers? You hate it, when the two of you are arguing. It doesn’t happen a lot, but it’s never pretty, and the mere thought that it might happen was already hurting.

As you definitely couldn’t go back to the compound by yourself, not knowing how far you were and being in a pitiful state, you decided to use the money left by Astrid to call a cab, as she instructed you to do. It’s not before you enter the car that you realize how late you actually were. It is almost one in the afternoon, and if you are not an early riser, like your girlfriend who is always up by six at the latest, you rarely get up after ten.

It has been a thirty minutes drive back to the compound, and the whole time you were thinking about two things: taking a shower, and leaning into your girlfriends’ arms. You are so exhausted, physically and mentally, that you’ve decided to skip work today — You were already so late that it wouldn’t make a big difference anyway. The journey was long, and those thirty minutes felt like hours.

Soon enough, you started to suffocate into your own mind, then skin. You felt so sweaty, and dirty, that it quickly became unbearable. Maybe it was the effects of the alcohol, or maybe because you’ve slept in a seedy motel, but the only thing you wanted was to get rid of the clothes you were wearing and the uncomfortable state you were in as soon as possible.

When you enter the compound, you find it empty, and so is the room you are sharing with the woman. If you frown, you don’t think much about it. If the building is rarely empty, it sometimes happens when emergencies are called. A whine escapes your lips as you realize that, if it’s true, they are going to be mad at you for not being here when they needed it. You can already feel your mind losing itself to self-hatred thoughts, as you mutter to yourself how stupid you are. You are going to need more than a few flowers to earn their forgiveness. The fact that JARVIS confirmed that everyone was at the S.H.I.E.L.D.'s quarters didn’t, you would have preferred to hear that they went to the restaurant without you rather than that.

Tears brimming your eyes, you quickly put your phone to charge. It is only when you get out of the shower, twenty minutes later, that you saw the missed calls and messages from Natasha. The most recent ones were sent a few minutes ago. There were too many of them for you to take time to read everything so you just sent her a quick text that said: “sorry, my battery was dead, and I couldn’t answer your calls. I’ll explain everything, I promise. see you soon. love you.” A message she saw but she didn’t answer, which is unusual and an obvious hint of how angry she probably is.

Despite your decision to not work today, you still end up in the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters. You are almost running in the corridors, going to the meeting room where you find your girlfriend, and the rest of the Avengers. When you stumble into the room, a deadly silence descends. None of them greeted you, and the only reaction you got was Fury’s nod when you started mumbling excuses for your late arrival. While your eyes immediately landed on the redhead, she didn’t glance at you once of the entire meeting. The sight made your heart sink. You love her, but you have to admit that the spy is scary when she has that stern expression on her face, one that leaves no room for discussion.

The safest decision was to sit on the furthest chair, leaving her space until you get the opportunity to explain yourself. Something that you hadn't had a chance to do before a few more hours, when you stumbled into her in the corridors. You have been lost in your mind, having a hard time focusing on your work. Earlier, when the meeting ended, she immediately left the room, not leaving you a chance to exchange a word with her, and it has been bugging you since.

“Please, wait,” you said, already begging the woman. When she heard your voice, she stopped, allowing you to gently grab at her arm so she didn't go. She could, if she wanted to, and a part of her did want to run away, but the rest of her knows that this conversation can’t be avoided. “Listen, I- I am sorry,” you started once you were sure she was willing to listen to your excuses, “I should have warned you, but I couldn’t, my phone’s battery was dead and, and- honestly? I don't remember much of what happened last night. All I know is that once was enough. It won't happen again,” you chuckled sadly. When you woke up that morning, you promised to yourself that it was the last time you drank that much. A promise you kept, and three years later, you still haven’t touched a bottle of alcohol. “I promise, 'tasha. Please, don't be mad at me for that, or at least tell me how I can make up for my mistake,” you said, and the woman knew she had heard enough.

“Seriously?” she scoffed, breaking free of your grip. “I can’t believe you are that stupid,” she said, as she started to walk away. But if she didn’t want to hear the sound of your voice any more, you, however, weren’t done yet.

"I know I’ve made a mistake, but I am fine, isn’t it the most important?” you asked, starting to follow. Except that, when she heard your steps in her back, she accelerated her pace. “I promise to be more careful next time but, you know, I can handle myself for one night. Well, I might have drunk a bit too much, but Astrid was wi~,” you tried to explain, except she cut short your ramblings. To say, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but the woman quickly cut you. She scoffed again, in disbelief this time.

"You are really stupid, aren't you?” she said, stopping in her tracks, and you almost ran into her, surprised by her sudden stop. A few more seconds passed before she turned around to face you, her posture matching her stern expression. “Do you think I don't know what happened last night, with Astrid? Do you really think I wouldn’t have known the truth?” she added, taking a step forward for every question she asked, and you took one back every time, until your back hit the walls. You would certainly have found the situation hot if she didn’t look like she was about to murder you.

“W- what?” you said, “you are mad because I went out with a friend. That’s the problem? Astrid is the problem?" you snapped, starting to feel frustrated about the whole situation.

You are tired, and the only thing you’ve wanted to do since you opened your eyes that morning — Throwing yourself in your girlfriend’s arms — was impossible to do. You hadn’t expected the woman to give you such a hard time. You knew she could be jealous sometimes, you’ve already had arguments about that in the past, but you’ve always been understanding because you know that her jealousy isn’t caused by a lack of trust. This feeling is fuelled by her own insecurities and past. Except that, that time, it was too much. The way she wouldn't listen to your excuses is seriously hitting on your nerves.

"Don't you dare to lie to me,” she said. For a moment, you thought she was going to hit you, but she took a step back before she could do that. She was angry too, taking deep breaths in an attempt to ease the feeling. “I trusted you,” she eventually added but her tone was different — The anger left her voice, replaced by pain. “I trusted you and, most importantly, I loved you,” she whispered, turning around to see you one last time. “After everything I have done for you, I can't believe that's how you are thanking me. You know, I really thought you were different, better," she laughed, trying very hard to not throw you against the walls or worse, to cry. The most insufferable was the look in your eyes, the false innocence. She was tired of pretending, she had given you enough chances to tell her the truth, “but you’re not,” but now, she was done trying.

That is the last time the two of you talked. The next time you’ve seen her, she hasn’t been kind enough to let you have a chance to explain things. She was done trying, and so were you. The last words she said are still ringing in your head, even years later. Maybe if you'd chased her once again that day, things would have ended differently, but you haven’t moved. You couldn’t, petrified by the conversation that just took place, you have just watched the redhead walking away without glancing back.

It’s only when you enter the break room that you understand the whole conversation you had with Natasha. No one was here, but the walls had been covered with pictures of yourself. At first, you thought it was a prank from your teammates’ but the pictures were all but innocent. You felt your heart sink when you took down one of the photos to get a closer look at it, and tears in your eyes when you realized that you were nude in those.

It was you, in bed, with Astrid. Your face doesn’t entirely show but you can easily recognize yourself and the bed you’ve woken up in that morning. There were dozens of different pictures, but all showed similar scenes: your bodies against each other as you are obviously sharing an intimate moment. Something that you should only share with one person on that Earth. A person that is definitely not Astrid.

Except that the more you look at those pictures, the more foreign they feel. You are sure you are the one in the pictures, but you are still unable to remember what happened. Slowly, doubt creeps into your heart — Did you drink that much last night?

So much that you betrayed the woman you swore to love until the sun dies?

You feel tears welling up in your eyes. You are suddenly overwhelmed by a bunch of emotions that you can’t describe, but that are definitely not pleasant. It is a mix of confusion, anger, guilt, and disgust. The pictures speak for themselves, and they leave little room for doubt about what you were doing — And you were surely not just sleeping. The woman was on top of you, her mouth closed to your neck, maybe she was leaving soft kisses against your skin, maybe she was whispering sweet things in your ears, you don’t know. But the thing you were focused on was her hand hidden by the sheets, leaving only your imagination to complete the scene. It wasn’t the only picture of that kind: they were all picturing similar scenes. You can easily understand her rage and hatred earlier because you are now sharing those feelings with your girlfriend, just for different reasons.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" a voice said, pulling out of your mind. It was Astrid, who just entered the room. She glanced around before looking back at you, a sad smile spreading on her lips when she notices the tears that are soaking your face. and you saw Astrid entering the room. She looks around, a sorry look on her face. "I am sorry,” she started, and you could feel she was looking for the right thing to say, “I- I sent the pictures to the wrong person. When I realized, I tried to explain to Romanoff but, well… you know how she is,” she explained, shrugging as if she was trying to make you believe she had actually tried to, “she wouldn't listen to me, and they- they did that before I could stop them. It doesn’t please me either," she added, reminding you that you weren’t the only one suffering from the situation. Except she seemed to deal with the situation better than you do. As she talked, she slowly walked closer to you, accompanying each of her sentences with a few steps forward until she was close enough to wrap you in her arms.

You didn’t get the energy to push her away.

"Did we.. ?" you asked, but your voice broke before you could finish your sentence. It felt too difficult to say those words out loud — “Did we hook up? Did I cheat on Natasha?” But the woman doesn’t need the words to be said, she seems to read in your mind the end of your sentence.

"Of course we did, what kind of question is that?" she replied, frowning. She seems to be surprised by your question. For a second, the hand that was slowly caressing the back of your head stopped. The woman pulled back a little, just so she could see your face. "Why? Do you regret it?" she asked, and for an instant she seemed to be genuinely worried about your reaction, "because you didn't seem to last night, when you cried my name,..." she whispered in your ear. You could feel her breath tickling your skin but it wasn’t a pleasant feeling, unlike when Natasha does it.

Everything felt so much. Her voice, her touch, her presence so close to you, was now unbearable. As she remembers the night you’ve spent, a soft smirk spreads on her lips, but you are definitely not sharing her feelings. “Of course we did.” The words loop back into your mind, it seeps in like a poison that quickly takes over your whole being. Soon, you are paralyzed by an awful feeling. It hurts, but at the same time you are not sure you are actually feeling something, your body and mind feeling so foreign to you — If you wanted it, why does it feel so wrong?

At that moment, if you had been able to move, you would have ripped your ears off just so you wouldn’t hear her voice any more, and maybe you would have done the same with your skin. It felt like the only way to get rid of your overwhelming feelings. Suddenly, the reassuring touch of your best friend made you feel gross, and so do her sweet words — But if she said that you did it, and wanted it, then it must be true, right?

You have seen the pictures, they are in your hands, right under your eyes. You can see yourself betraying the woman you love and in those, you really don't give the impression that you didn’t want to. On the contrary.

"No, no, it- it's not that, it’s just…," you eventually managed to say, but you are hesitating and unsure of yourself. There are too many thoughts and words clouding your head, so many ways you could react and yet, none of what you could say or do felt right. "It’s just that I don’t even remember last night,” you admitted, feeling ashamed about it, “I mean, did we- you know,... for real?" you asked softly but you were not even listening to Astrid’s answer, the question was more for yourself in reality. "Sorry, I have to go, see you later", you said, interrupting the woman. Somehow, you regained control over your body, just enough to push the other away and leave the room. You are not sure where you are going, but as far from that room as you can is already a good start.

That's where she found you when she came home that night, sitting on the bathroom's floor, the pictures in your hands.

Your hand is still wrapped tightly around the pictures, but you didn’t notice it. Not before being back home, in the room you are sharing with Natasha — Or were sharing, you thought, unsure about how the situation would unfold. It may be the last time you set a foot in that room that has been your safe place for months. Before you could completely break down, you decided to take a shower, thinking that, maybe, the steaming water would be enough to ease your mind. You took two showers. Then three, then four, and maybe more. You can’t be sure, you’ve stopped counting. All you knew was that it hasn’t been enough to get rid of the uneasy feelings and thoughts. You’ve scrubbed yourself until your skin was so sensitive that even the touch of the towel has been painful — But maybe you deserved it.

The rest of the day is a blur, and you are not sure what time it is. You’ve spent hours on the bathroom’s floor, your left hand clenched around the picture while the right one was holding the towel. Your head was so empty, but so full at the same time. That’s how she found you when she came home that night, and if she had been tempted to wrap you in her arms when she saw your pitiful state, the conversation she just had with the others discouraged her to do so — You didn’t deserve her pity. They are right when they say that you are not the victim: you are the one that cheated on her, and she needs to be firm, stern. You knew how hard it is for the woman to trust someone and yet, you still broke the fate she had put in you after years of making her dream of a better future.

"Oh, so you remember now?" she coldly said to you when she entered the room. You didn’t move, not even your eyes to look at her, but if you did, you would have seen that the woman was leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed. Maybe you would have also seen that her coldness was only a facade, and that she was as close as you were from breaking down.

You stayed silent, unable to say anything. The words were stuck in your clenched throat, and they aren’t feeling right anyway — How could you defend yourself when you didn't even know what happened exactly? Plus, you weren’t even sure there was something to defend, the pictures speaking for themselves. Even when she started packing your belongings, you didn’t move. For you to move, she had to grab your arm and drag you all the way outside the Avengers’s building by herself.

She needed you gone, and everyone agreed that it was only for the best. At least for a few weeks, just the time for things to calm down. That’s what she came to announce. The few words that left your mouth were useless, your pleas falling in deaf ears: the decision had already been made, and the sentence was irrevocable. The woman is done with your bullshit. She is done with you, and so you are.

"The pictures, they- they aren't real," she eventually admitted, her voice being barely louder than a whisper as she unburdens herself of this old secret. “I mean, th- they are, but it’s a staging. Nothing happened between us, she- hm, loves you too much to give you away,” she continued, tears filling her eyes as she talks, her voice wavering a little more with each word. "She isn't even conscious in these," she continued when the spy didn’t react. If the black-haired woman thought it was because the other was listening, it was because she didn’t know how to react.

The weight of what she had done left her shoulder, and it was now lingering in the room, where the air was suddenly thick, and almost unbreathable. Natasha felt a weight in her chest that made each breath harder than the previous one. Overcome by surprise, she had let go of the other, stepping back a few steps. Her thoughts were racing, numerous and contradictory, they weren’t coherent enough to allow how to respond in any way. She needed to do something, but she didn’t know what.

“I- I don’t know why I did that. It wasn’t me, that night, you know that, right? That I would usually never ever do something like that,” she started to defend herself when she saw the look on Natasha’s face, “I was so angry, and disappointed, when she refused. I have given her everything since we met, and yet you are the one she chose. I thought that, maybe, with a bit of time she would eventually realize her mistake, … but I was so wrong,” she sighed, and the redhead could see the remnants of that anger in her attitude. A clenching jaw and fists, accompanied with firm words that left no doubt about the resentment she held towards her, and towards you. “That night, I- I wasn’t myself. We’ve already had a few drinks and, you know, it doesn’t mix well with emotions,” she continued, and the woman could feel her anger rising with every word the other spoke. “All I could think about was getting revenge. I wanted to show her she was wrong, that I had so much more to offer than she thought. I wanted her to change her mind, to see me for more than just a friend,” she admitted, her voice being just a whisper as she says the last sentence. “I never thought it would end this way, I swear, you’ve to believe me, Natasha,” and to forgive me. She didn’t say the last words out loud, but she doesn’t need to, her eyes are speaking for herself.

Only, when her gaze met the redhead’s, she didn’t see in her eyes the compassion she had been expecting, only pure hatred, an emotion that had quickly replaced the initial surprise. Not even a word was addressed to her as the other left the room, leaving her alone to dry her tears.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three. the scars in our hearts (bonus part).

| Taglist — @cd-4848, @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite, @gemz5, @jusnough, @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0, @mrsrushman, @riyaexee, @takeyaki, @taliiiaasteria.

#a spes writing #devious lies #mcu fandom #mcu fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfiction #reader insert #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #angst writing #angst without comfort #anon request

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ashtxrie · 7 months ago

Text

submitted 11:59 pm

— alternatively, enhypen maknaes as your typical high school crush!

PAIR. high school! enhypen maknaes x gn!reader (rest under cut) GENRE. fluff, high school au, bullet points WORD COUNT. 1.8k total HYUNG LINE VER.

김선우 — kim sunoo

candy hearts, spotify playlists, good morning texts, easy laughter, crescent smiles

in high school, sunoo's known as being super friendly and sociable

and because of that, he has a ton of friends

like he basically knows everyone

you and sunoo have definitely talked before, and you may have had a teensy tiny crush on him from your... downward of five interactions

he's kind of like your hallway crush!

however, you DON'T know that he has had a crush on you for FOREVER

like a MASSIVE one! SINCE MIDDLE SCHOOL

and his friends are SICK AND TIRED of hearing about it

man's dedicated because he really saw you in every single one of your phases and STILL decides to like you. he's a real one

he's so whipped like he's hitting up the group chat (named "en- gang" by riki btw) at 1 in the morning being like

"GUESS WHAT?!!! she smiled at me today ☺️ i forgot to tell you all"

everyone is so done

"did you talk to her though"

"NO. i'm getting there"

"all you did was make eye contact for the past month be srs rn"

so one day jay and jungwon (your mutual friends), who were in the same english class as you both, were feeling DEVIOUS

it was the fall semester final project, and it was supposed to be worked on in teams of 2 to 3

"bro you are NOT working on it with us the love of your life is literally RIGHT there"

jay and jungwon took matters into their own hands and forcefully excluded sunoo ("you guys are so fake")

so now, with no other option, he had to approach you!

"do you have a group already? if not, we could work together?"

wait wtf he didn't say that

hey....

it was YOU???

you approached him first??? he was SHOCKED

tried to play it cool but his smile gave away how happy he was

"yes!!!! let's work together!!!!! :)"

the project actually went so well he has literally never been happier typing away on that document every night

updates the group chat periodically too

"when we were working on the google doc at 2 am in the morning our cursors went over each other’s & it was like we were holding hands :>>"

"how do i unsubscribe"

"you're just mad because you've never been in love <333"

secretly sunoo's thanking his friends though because now you guys are basically close friends!

while doing the project together you started talking about school, friends, life, and everything in between

talking with you just seemed so natural, and sunoo wonders why he was so afraid of it before

i'd like to think that with you, sunoo doesn't feel the need to always put on the bubbly and outgoing side of him

sometimes, he can just be quiet and calm sunoo with you, and the silence feels so comfortable and safe

you start hanging out more and more, and soon you've met so many people through sunoo that they think of you whenever they think of him too

it's like a package deal!

throughout this time he's still madly in love with you btw

he just wants to take things slow! he didn't want to scare you away or anything

and yes, the gc is STILL getting their daily sunooyn Down Bad News Network

"today during lunch she gave me a yakult bottle, i think she’s starting to like me back! :D"

he does Not know you've liked him all this time

the mutual pining is crazy

he (finally) confesses after a whole YEAR

he's super nervous about it, has possible plan b's scripted and sat through 30 minutes of youtube subliminal audios the day before for extra good luck

after he says his whole heartfelt confession, he gives you this handwritten letter with all of his favorite moments with you in the past year, complete with spotify codes next to each one that links to a specific song he thought of at the time

you teared up a bit because oh my gosh it was so cute he was so cute and your heart just melted

you told him you've liked him since forever too and he was FLABBERGASTED

you both also reveal that you've BOTH had hidden spotify playlists dedicated for each other???

let's just say that even years later, the 'en- gang' group chat would NEVER let sunoo live down his digital footprint

양정원 — yang jungwon

strawberries, honors classes, coming of age, familiarity, inside jokes, paper rings

your childhood best friend

who just so happens to also be mr student council president, king of extracurriculars, resident academic powerhouse

and also a LITTLE SHIT about it

since elementary school, you've got some friendly (and not-so-friendly) rivalry going on

"we both know who’s going to get the higher score for this chem final”

“yeah, and it’s going to be me”

“NAH”

but the drive you get from the competition is really what brought you guys together

it's what keeps you motivated, it's what keeps you going

and he's funny! (though you'd never admit it)

because yes, you're both trying to beat each other for the top spot in class rank

but you also get each other

you've been study buddies since the beginning of time, and he keeps the two of you accountable

sometimes he's TOO responsible

"jungwon don't let the pomodoro timer dictate you life can we PLEASE take a snack break right nowww"

"we literally did that FIVE MINUTES AGO"

outside of studying he's really chill though

one summer he started to get really into alchemy of souls and you binged the series twice together, effectively destroying both of your sleep schedules right before school started

he just loves existing in the same space as you tbh

definitely loves calling you for hours during the school year, whether to review for an upcoming exam or to just have the two of you do your own things while connected on the phone

it's pretty common for the two of you to fall asleep while on call with one another

late night yapping sessions (hello??? his weverse addiction??)

he feels like he can just let his responsibilities go and you're the only person who really understands him and everything he does and why he does it

lowkey.... he also just wants to make you proud :(

he was so happy that one time you offhandedly mentioned how you've seen and appreciated all the hard work he was putting in for one of the school events

when he eventually confessed to you, everything just made sense

like the way your eyes always lingered on his bright smile when he showed up on your doorstep at the crack of dawn

and how even when you tease each other, you never miss how he would reach for your hand with his own before retracting it hurriedly as if changing his mind

now, oh he just makes you feel so loved

texts you at random times of the day just because, sending you the most random images and captioning them with "us"

he's still got the silliness in him though!

"i want to try every strawberry with chocolate combination with you <333"

西村力 — nishimura riki

neon lights, school dances, sunglasses, finger guns, playful banter, shared hoodies

honestly he's just at school for the vibes

however, he DID take homecoming very seriously

with one goal in mind: to DOMINATE the dance floor

and dominate he did.

he partied in the USA so hard that by the end of the night, everyone was talking about that freshman who left everyone speechless at a HIGH SCHOOL DANCE

among those witnesses of how riki out-danced the entire school population, were you

and you thought he was literally the coolest person ever

fast forward two years, and you're a junior now

it's all good! you've definitely outgrown your month-long admiration of the Guy From Hoco

but yo what guess who sits right next to your seat in class???

it's the Guy From Hoco himself

honestly, you're a pretty chill person so you turned to him and were like "hey aren't you that guy that got famous back during hoco freshman year?"

but now? he’s EMBARRASSED to admit it

"oh uhhh that wasn't me haha"

boy bffr you would know his face anywhere

you kind of gave him a questioning look and shrugged

"oh well, i thought it was really cool though"

he instantly backtracks, because you thought it was cool and NOT an aura loss????

"wait i think i remember now haha that WAS me!!!"

you guys match energy so well tbh

he started to catch feelings for you because of how funny you were and how you two just clicked, but he was stuck in denial FOREVER

"I DON'T CHASE I ATTRACT" (desperate)

heeseung also tried to give him "rizz counseling" but that just ended up with them both saying "mb gang" at everything

which was..... not very rizzy!

you had convinced him to audition for the competition dance team at your school, which he obviously made

he texted you the day he got in too, typing in all caps in everything which he NEVER does

"why would you scream about things in caps lock when you can be cool and nonchalant" YEAH SURE RIKI

updated all his social media bios to @[school]varsitydanceteam the moment he got the acceptance notif

“[name] is my instagram bio tuff”

“WHY ARE U ALR PUTTING IT IN YOUR BIO"

"because i’m committed and it lets them know i’m part of a professional community"

(heeseung told him that it would show his commitment to the sport and thus his potential to commit to you.)

at this point, riki was ready to fire heeseung and switch to jake as his ghostwriter 💀

but little did he know, you started liking him too once you saw how genuinely hardworking he was when he has a goal

like those hours he spent on call with you asking if you thought this one move was clean enough?? he really put in his all (he also wanted to impress you)

you kind of had the idea that he liked you back, because let's be honest he was being a bit obvious about it

the way he almost choked when you hugged him congratulations??? he looked DAZED for a whole hour

you had to confess to riki because his heejake rizz courses consisted mainly of heeseung and jake arguing about whose approach was better

even when you two became a couple, you still had teasing as a love language LMAO

"HAHA 🫵🫵 YOU'RE SO SHORT i still love you though <3"

it's just how he shows his love, but he also loves draping his arm across your shoulders when walking around

made sure to emphasize to heeseung and jake that this was all his doing and they did not help him at ALL

but let's be real, YOU were the rizziest of them all

and riki agrees <3

TAGLIST : @star-sim @boyfiejay @jlheon @jwsdoll @dimplewonie @suneng @en-gelic @mygnolia @asteria-wood

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