#FUCK NICE ONE AGAIN BLAZER
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ham1lton · 2 months ago
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NOT A CHILL GIRL.
pairings: lewis hamilton x chronically online fiancée!yn
faceclaim: jordana brewster
summary: chronically online, funniest on the grid, and the proud owner of a face card that never declines—at least, according to yourself. your fiancé might raise an eyebrow at the first claim, the world might debate the second, but no one’s arguing with the third.
warnings: just jokes. don’t take any of this seriously.
author’s note: hope u enjoy bunny anon! :D
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liked by lewishamilton, yourinstagram and 187,938 others.
ham1ltonshaderoom: celebrity stylist, and fiancée of f1 legend lewis hamilton, yn yln took to instagram stories to share some concerning posts. what do we think about these captions, ham1ltons?
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yourinstagram MAMA I MADE IT
— user1 yn you have dressed some of the top celebrities and this is what you’re excited over??
— user2 forget that. she’s fucking LEWIS HAMILTON!!! and this is what she’s excited over???
user3 this is a v tame post for yn LMFAO
— user4 like she’s posted worse 😭
user5 she’s so unserious i’m obsessed
— user6 my fav wag
user7 i love the fact she’s dressing zendaya, showing up to her hot fiancé’s races and still finds time to shitpost
— user8 she’s so me
user9 she should be embarrassed. she’s grown
— user10 she will never see this btw
user11 i need to know lewis’ thoughts on these posts
user12 she’s the moment. i want to be her so bad.
— user13 successful in her own right AND secured the bag. #needtoBEthat
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INSTAGRAM LIVE
yn i’m using lewis’ ninja creami to make slushies and sydney isn’t picking up her phone because she’s on set. so entertain me, my little gladiators.
user1 what flavour slushie are you making and why is it pure tequila
yn no. it’s a margarita mix. mostly anyways. all about balance babes.
user2 worst red carpet outfit request you’ve ever gotten?
yn girl some actor asked me to dress him up in head to toe camo… i wanted to be sick.
user3 yn, when’s the wedding? lewis is literally ready to propose again.
yn not until jungkook confirms he’s off the market. i need to know i’m not leaving options on the table.
user4 did you see lando’s post underneath your birthday post to lewis.
yn i did and i’m angry. how dare he be funnier than me on my own shitpost.
user5 who’s better at gift-giving, you or lewis?
yn me. obviously. lewis once got me a pen because “it looked sleek.” it was a nice pen, but still a pen.
user6 yn, if you could style anyone in history, who would it be?
yn harry styles but in 2012. imagine the chaos if he let me near those blazers.
user7 how did you guys meet?
yn via a mutual friend at a party. i thought his choice of shoes was disastrous and he thought i was funny. so obviously i went home with him that night. then i fell in love or whatever.
user8 you are literally the blueprint for chaotic but lovable. never change.
yn never will, little gladiator. never will.
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liked by yourinstagram, thirstystan1 and 1,098,125 others.
lewishamilton: sunday best, thank you theststyle
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yourinstagram why won’t this damn app swipe RIGHT?!?!?
— lewishamilton wrong app sweetheart
— yourinstagram oh shit 😓 can you show me how to download the right one? ever since ashley madison shut down and farmersonly.com banned me for “unsolicited flirting,” it’s been tough out here.
— lewishamilton maybe try clownsonly.com—heard they’re taking new members.
— yourinstagram wow. this from the guy who once googled “how to impress a bad bitch” and got caught.
— lewishamilton a bad bitch was impressed, wasn’t she? checkmate.
— yourinstagram yeah, well, don’t get used to it. also, happy valentine’s, loser. 💖
— lewishamilton happy valentine’s, clown. ❤️
— user1 y’all are some weirdos 😭🩷
user2 YN GIVE HIM TO MEEEEEE
user3 #NEEDTHAT
— yourinstagram #TOOBAD
— user3 YN PLEASE 😭😭😭😭😭😭
user4 need this relationship NOW
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— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @aliciaablueprint @theblueblub @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @landososcar @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong @nixisracing @lethalvenus @sainzluvrr @santanasaintmendes @idontknowlmaoo @sainzluvrr @tetetoni @ssprayberrythings @heavy-vettel @tashisgf @daniskywalkersolo @c-losur3 @lestappenslover @linoscrly (see yourself tagged when you don’t wanna be? or you want to be and don’t see yourself? send me an ask!)
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v1x3n · 11 days ago
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REUNITE! ── ripped apart.
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♯ PAIRINGS - john price x falsely accused reader x 141
♯ SYNOPSIS - tortured for information by your family and the person you loved, john price. you were harmed for something you hadn't even done, you were framed as the traitor and soon they would find out.
♯ TAGS - angst - mentions of torture, panic attacks and breakdowns.
─ previous chapter // masterlist // next chapter ─
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Days go by, long fucking days where you're practically stuck in this bed. You could get up and walk around but you didn't want to. You stared at the ceiling, kind of hoping it would fall down on you but it never came. Your face stuck in the same position for hours as you melted into the bare sheets of the hospital bed. A singular tear pricks down your cheek while you look towards the dying flowers that sit on your bedside table.
"Hi honey!" Your nurse walks into your room with some food clumped on the plate. You glance up at her with weak eyes. She places the food on your bedside table. Glancing at the withered flowers, she sighs. "They been in here recently?" Jane asks with a hint of disappointment. Your head shakes, not really wanting to even think about or even talk about them, let alone speak to them. "Listen, I know what they did to you was terrible and you probably never want to open that wound but-"
When you scoff and look away after the 'but', she continues talking. "...You should talk to someone about it. I'm not asking you to talk to them. Because god knows I wouldn't even look at them, but you should see a therapist. You do need one and you can't keep pushing away everyone who wants you to get better." Jane's sweet smile makes you acknowledge that there are nice people in this world.
"I-I uhm- I was forced to go to a session like within the first week of being here but they just..." you trail off, looking towards the flowers that had lost nearly all their life. Huh, you never thought you could relate to flowers.
"I understand, I do." She gently puts her hands on your knee. This time you don't flinch though. This time, memories didn't flash through your eyes - forcing you to relive the horrible things those fucking four put you through. This time, it was peaceful, it was comforting. "You should still give it another go, after what you went through - you need someone safe." Your nurse's thumb rubs against your knee as she speaks.
You take in her words, the lingering feeling of wanting to get better - to heal - stabs at your heart but you also wanted to show those fucking horrible four that this is what they fucking did to you. Not wanting to waste time getting better, if you even could, you knew deep down you'd always hurt. You wouldn't be able to trust anyone again - especially a man. What they did to you tore you apart.
So, you shrugged off your nurse's words before she let you be, to eat your hospital food. The slop slumped onto the plate looked so disgusting. The sandwich that you could tell would stick to the roof of your mouth was unappetizing. Honestly the food there made you less hungry. After sighing and shoving the meal to the bedside table, pushing the dead flowers off the wood so they splattered all over the floor. The hard floor was littered with wilted petals and the dark, pale green stems.
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So here you are. Sat in another white fucking room, except there wasn't a lonely bed or flowers scattered across the floor. There were two cream couches and a massive window. And a woman wearing a tight pair of trousers, a white blouse with a blazer swept over the couch she was sitting on top of. The girl was holding a clipboard with text filling the papers. Her hair was straight and was neatly brushed - the total opposite of you. “Ah, y/n? Right? You can call me Jones." she smiled as you came into her viewline. You nod nervously as you swipe down on your little gown the hospital gave you. 
Multiple panic attacks. Your body was in pain. The wounds that litter your body - not to be healed ever again. Your 8 fingers that trailed over the stitched up cut across your cheek. The breakdown you had just a week ago. How you flinch when anyone (but Jane) gets close.
All of that flashes through your head while you sit opposite the women. "You're quite famous, you know?” the woman states. You tilt your head towards the left. 
“Oh?” you hum, looking around the room, clearly avoiding eye contact. She scribbles something quick onto a clean bit of paper, the one with text flopped over the top of the clipboard. “Heard about your ‘story’ a lot, from a lot of different people.” You slump against the sofa. Feeling the soft fabric beneath your fingertips. “Oh.” mumbling when your eyes finally meet hers for the first time. Her blue eyes connect with yours. A deep passion for helping was buried in her eyes. You could tell. 
“I haven't heard the story from the person who went through it all though.” Jones looks down at her clipboard, “why don't you tell me about it? How are you feeling?”
“What's there to tell?" you scoff. Sweat starts pouring from your forehead so you pull an arm that was littered with healing bruises up across it. Your question was not much of a question, more of a statement. What was there to tell? She knew the story, everyone fucking did. “Let's start with how's your day?” Jones smiled with a hint of amusement when your scoff reached her ears. “Fine.” She raised an eyebrow skeptically at your answer but didn't comment on anything. She leaned forward. Placing her clipboard on the seat beside her. 
Your figit uncomfortably, "that's.. all? Fine?” Jones questions, her voice hinting at suspicion. “Yep.” 
“You know if you aren't honest, I can't help you." 
After burying your head into your hands, you drag your cheek down with your palm as you let out a long sigh, "I'm doing better.” 
“Well that is good to hear,” she coos, reaching for her clipboard and writing down a few words in the margin. “Has anyone visited you lately?” Her question makes you hesitate for a moment. “Like family and friends?” Jones nods whilst leaning back.
Looking around the office you notice the way the woman in front of you tilts her head in the slightest when you shake your head. Her ramblings go on and on but you end up blurring them out. High squeaking forms in your ears, blinding out your therapist talking. 
That's when a loud bang sounds from the door that you entered through. It brings you back to life. You flinch back as the door opens. “Hey Jones, sorry 'm late just got outa trainin’” the blurred man walks through the door, holding tight onto a notebook. His scruffy appearance so familiar.
You wish you didn't have to face him yet.
“Your session is on a Thursday from now on, I told you-” she gets cut off when Johnny drops the book in his hands as he stares at you with wide eyes, his mouth opening slightly as fear shoots through your stomach and heart. The man before you mumbles one quiet word.
 “...Bonnie.”
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leafostuff · 4 months ago
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Blind sexDate[Ft. StayC's Isa & Fromis_9's Chaeyoung]
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Tags: none, its a threesome
Word count: 6.5K
Author's: that...took a while, started to write this in 26th of August so i did take a very long time to finally have this out but here it is: my October upload
I really want to thank @prael @capslocked @octoberautumnbox and many others from the discord for helping me with stuff I wasn't sure about, i am really proud of that fic and i hope everyone else will enjoy reading it as much as i had fun writing it.
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She sounds pretty.
It's the lilt of her voice, how it does a cute thing where she almost, but not quite rolls her r's and chews on her consonants. A voice that sounds like it belongs to someone small. Someone, you know - conventionally attractive. 
Four minutes, fifty-five seconds. And that's pretty much all she has going for her.
"Let me tell you about my friend's vacation," she starts again, and you've lost track of if this is the same friend, same vacation - or a new one. They're all blending together.
you always thought the ‘blind’ was a figure of speech. it's fucking pitch black, you wonder if compared to the other guys you were underdressed,, you did see one guy with a blazer and jeans your paycheck couldn't even pay a quarter of it.
But back to the girl, her non stop ramble is now a background noise in your ears, not even sure you can recall who is the ex of who and which boyfriend cheated on her best friend with her sister. Your brain can't keep up.
but regardless, the first round is thankfully over, say your goodbyes to the first girl and stay in your chair.
you consider leaving right now to try and not get disappointed even more, however…
“Hey” The next girl is already here, it will be rude of you to leave just like that.
“Hi I am Jake” you respond
“Nice to meet you, my name is Chaeyoung, but you can just call me Isa” she responds. The first impression you gather is her voice, Airy and sweet like honey
“Huh, it's a pretty name, First time I ever heard a name like that ” you can hear a quiet giggle to your compliment.
“Thank you, I am actually from South Korea, I came here to LA for summer vacation”.
“That's cool, I actually live in LA myself” You lean back in your chair, getting comfortable around the mysterious girl.
“Oh wow” you could hear the excitement in her voice. “Do you have any places you can recommend to me?” she asked.
“Uhh…well, Here in Santa Monica Pier it's always fun for tourists too walk around here, I assume you have already been at the walk of fame in Hollywood and Universal studios” you answer. 
“I have to say though: this whole dating in the darkness is very fun, isn't it?” Fun is certainly one way to describe this, the other way is a gamble but for the sake of keeping the conversation fun you agree with her.
“Its like all of my other senses are much stronger, like some superhero…” Isa giggles, it's addictive that you can't help but join, with the sound of small shifts on her chair you can imagine how she is doing some battle poses.
“Hehe thats truuu-” quickly shut your mouth, that voice crack was the last thing you needed on a date but fortunately for you, Chaeyoung sounds a short laugh.
“Nervous?”
“hehe…Yeah, been a while since i was on a date” you explain, recalling your experiences with your failed relationships, it still stings a bit.
"Let's play a game then." There's some faint sounds of movement—a ruffling of clothes and the creak of a chair. She sounds clearer now, her voice doesn't have to carry as far and she's far more pronounced. 
"Help you relax a bit: What do you think I look like?” she asks, her tone is playful and happy as if she is the host of a game show, This second date goes better than you expected.
“Hmm…let me think…I am gonna guess that you have…black hair…is it long?” Your first answer is hesitant.
“Not telling~” she responds with a playful note. “How about my clothes?”
There is curiosity in her voice, excited to see how you will respond, you could hear her fingers tapping on the table, remembering to not waste time. “Well, you sound like a sweet girl, like the simple things in life, so…” you pause, trying to imagine her in many different styles and clothes that could fit her in the 5 or so minutes that you got to know her. 
Remember who is wasting who’s time so better lock in your answer now and say.
“My guess is… a summer dress?” quite the answer you give out, and the way you say it like you are one answer away from receiving the grand prize of Chaeyoung's game show, but back to her answer…
“You think it's something I will wear?” Isa questions, her tone sounds like she is also imagining herself wearing one.
“Yeah, it looks cute,” you respond. “And its not too crazy to wear on a first date” you add, hearing a small giggle after.
“Ok, i will keep it mind next time we meet”
“Will there be a next time?”
“I don't see why not”
You're happy, a bit surprised it didn't take you that much time to find someone in this speed blind dating thing, expecting more or less what happened the prior date but here you are.
“It's your turn to guess now?” You ask, already feeling comfortable around her.
“Ok ok, so i-”
But sadly as if life has decided to cockblock you, the time is over as an alarm can be heard as a signal to switch, you can only look at the general direction of where Chaeyoung could be and sigh, showing your disappointment.
“We can always meet later if you want” you can feel her wanting to continue her date with you but every good thing must come to an end
“Of course, it was very fun talking with you”
“Same to you as well” you can hear Isa lift herself from the chair. “See ya” she added in a happy tone before leaving you at the lone table. You can't help yourself but smile.
“Maybe it won't be as bad as i thought” 
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Time goes on and other girls come and go, however, you can't help but wonder more about Isa, what makes her laugh? What does she like to do on the weekends? what are her dreams, aspirations and everything in between, the curiosity killed you inside.
more importantly: you wonder what she looks like, outside of the darkness you were both in. If it wasn't clear enough: you are interested in her, they all say love at first sight doesn't exist but here you are, letting your mind fill with the idea of her.
You are set in stone of your choice, and there is no chance you will change yo-.
“uhm Hello? Are you there?”
Zoom out of your thoughts, focus on the husky, feminine voice coming from what seems to be in front of you. How long has she been sitting there? How long have you been daydreaming?? Thank god it's dark so quickly compose yourself before it can get awkward and start talking.
“Oh hi, im jake. Nice to meet you”
“Uhh, nice to meet you too,” she responds, it's not hard to hear the shakiness and in her voice showing her nervousness to you, the small shifting sounds in her chair. “I am Chaeyoung”.
You're caught off guard, the world is smaller than it seems with you meeting two girls Sharing the same name, “isn't that a Korean name?”
“Uh, yeah, how…how did you know?”.
“I actually met another girl named Chaeyoung before in here” you say, it would be funny if they actually knew each other but the chances are slim. It's not like you know every Jake either.
“Oh, that's cool…” she mumbled, sounding as if she was disappointed to hear it
The silence is now getting awkward, you both wait for the other one to start breaking more of the ice and it seems that she was the patient one between both of you since you are the first to give up and get the conversation going.
“So what do you do? For a living I mean” you are met with unintelligible mumbles as an answer, a bit unsure you ask her again to clarify.
“I…model, it's not super serious though” Chaeyoung quietly answered, you could hear light, quick taps beneath the table.
“Oh wow, I bet you are like, really pretty if you do modeling” you dont know how much confidence you got to say such a thing but you are already mentally face-palming yourself. You could feel yourself gaining some creep points in her mind over this comment.
“Oh, uhh Thank…thank you very much” Chaeyoung stutters, her tone jumps an Octave, sounding a small giggle. You can only sigh in relief that you didn't weird Chaeyoung out.
“I'm in LA for a photoshoot, since we finished earlier than expected i got a couple of days free to hang out around the city” she explains, still sounding nervous but much more at ease than before. “So what do you do for work, Jake?” She returns your question to you.
“Ah, I just work as a barista in a small café, nothing much.” you manage to say in a montone, unpleasant tone. You are a bit embarrassed that you have the chance to blind date a model while you are the equivalent of nothing compared to her
“It’s-It’s okay, i'm honestly not some super popular model” her words quickly come out of her mouth. “Besides, I can imagine being a barista is much more relaxing of a job, not trying to get every deal possible just not to lose money.”
“I mean, it doesn't pay much but it is less stressful,” you respond. You can hear two glasses of water placed on the wooden table with one of them handed to you, together with a straw since you could imagine how drinking from the cup would end like.
“So, what does a model like you” you stop, taking a small sip of the water to refresh yourself. -doing in blind speed dating?”
“It's just easier for me, usually when i go on dates I get nervous, and my eyes travel too much, and I kind of panic…” Chaeyoung explains, lightly giggling at her own experience before taking a sip from her water glass as well .“So I thought doing something like this could help me feel uhh you know… less stressed.”
“Hey, you do you, as long as you are comfortable.”
“Yeah, that's true,” Chaeyoung replied. Her voice turns less shaky and more clear than at the start of your date, it was clear that both of you had fun on that date.
So much so that in fact, you both were caught off guard by the timer for your date finishes and the lights suddenly turn up again, revealing the girl in front of you for the first time.
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Right off the bat; you understand why Chaeyoung is a model.
A heart-shaped face and a delicate, soft jawline paired with brown, expressive eyes and Black shoulder-length silky hair that is enough to make every man look at her in awe, including you. Even her clothing is model-like with a Chic, stylish black off shoulder shirt and Denim jeans that show her features exceptionally well. By the way, you should say something before you will sound weird
“Oh, nice to meet you” stand up from your chair and raise your hand to a handshake.
“Nice to meet you too, i gotta say that i didn't see that coming at all” Chaeyoung cheerfully responded while shaking your hand, sounding a sincere chuckle while her eyes joined her wide smile.
“Same, i almost had a heart attack” you jokingly say while you get your jacket off your chair. “Say, wanna go outside? Maybe get to know each other more” she only nods, taking her jacket from her chair as you both head out from your table toward the exit of the bar.
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“Oh, here you are” you recognize this airy voice, taken aback as you look at where the voice comes from.
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Though you were right about the black hair, you did miss the mark on Isa's outfit. Short crop top and tight jeans, that cute summer dress was nowhere to be found.
Her cat-like eyes lock onto yours, she flashes a sweet yet devilish grin before heading toward the two of you.
“Gotta say Jake: i had a feeling you were good looking, but i didn't expect you to be this good looking” Isa compliments you, giving a small wink then her gaze turns to Chaeyoung with curious eyes.
“Your friend?” She asks you,
“Hi, I'm Chaeyoung, nice to meet you” She says, reaching her hand forward as Isa is suddenly taken by surprise.
“Um, I am Chaeyoung”
“That's my name”
“That's… also my name"
“What's your family name?” Chaeyoung asks, now intrigued by the other girl.
“Its Lee” Isa responds, now it's Chaeyoung’s turn to be surprised.
“that's also…my family name”
During this, you are just looking at what's happening in front of you. As much as you are curious, you are also worried since it seems like both were interested in dating you after this.
However, one quick look at each other, another one to look at you and then looking back at each other, the two girls started laughing, both covering their mouths to muffle the volume. You can only sigh in relief that it turned for the better.
Eventually they both let their laughs out as Chaeyoung speaks. “It's quite a surprise to meet another Korean here in LA”.
“Please, call me Isa, and same, nice to meet you too Chaeyoung” she replies, chuckling lightly as the other girl can't help but start chuckling as well before they reach their hand for a small handshake
“Well that went better than expected” you manage to slip in the conversation reminding them that you are still here.
“You also met him on Speed dating?”
Chaeyoung nods. “We were the last round before the lights turned on, you two met earlier?” 
“Yeah, the other guys were kind of boring but he was a breath of fresh air” Isa explains, turning her gaze to you and winking at you. You could swear your heart skipped a beat.
At this moment one question rose in your mind and as you looked at the two girls with an awkward look, they both realized what you were as they sounded a small ‘oh��� before looking at each other again. As much as you didn't want you, you had to choose one of the girls to be your date.
“You can go out with Jake” Chaeyoung quickly says, smiling sweetly and lightly pushing Isa toward you, both you and the cat-like girl are surprised.
“Chaeyoung? Are you sure?” you question, why was she suddenly
“Yeah yeah, I'm sure, You two met before I met you, so she should have you” she explains, her eyes joining her smile. You did feel bad about leaving Chaeyoung out however an idea was about to be suggested that would fix that problem.
Then again, you aren't sure if this was an actual fix…
“I dont mind you dating us both”
What
“What?” Chaeyoung raises her eyebrow in surprise at Isa, the one who suggested that idea out of the blue, you were not far behind Chaeyoung in your reaction as well, being completely confusement.
“I mean dont see why not, I like you, you like me, she likes you, You like her. I am bad at math but it doesn’t seem too hard to solve this problem” Isa explains looking at you, You and Chaeyoung swap looks, you can feel your cheek heating up and changing to a pink shade.
“I mean uh…as long as Jake doesn't mind, it's okay by me” Chaeyoung stutters, Isa likes this response as she smiles at her new friend, her arm goes around Chaeyoung’s shoulder.
“Im sure it will be great, So what do you say Jake?~” Isa’s voice is sweet when she looks at you with her warm smile, Chaeyoung’s smile is also there but is much more timid.
The choice was now in your field, you didn't expect there to be a third option in the first place and all in honesty: That idea seemed like trouble. But when Isa looks at you with her cheerful smile, standing like that next to Chaeyoung with a smile that makes them look together like the next cover page for a magazine, it's hard to say no to them.
And deep inside: you don't want to.
“Sure, if that's what you two want” you respond, it seems they are both satisfied with your choice as they look at each other with warm smiles. 
you honestly didn't mind this idea as long as they were both happy, besides, what's the worst that could happen?.
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“Dang it!” Isa yelled, almost managing to block your hit of the air puck but it ended up inside the goal because of the unusual angle you shot it. “So…a model, that sounds like a cool job to have, no?” She directed her question to Chaeyoung, giving her the mallet she was holding.
“Huh? Oh yeah, it's fine, I'm not getting many offers compared to the average model” Chaeyoung answers, half focused on aiming the first shot before quickly shooting it at your goal. “but it's good money”
You reflect the puck. “I mean, if it's something you like to D-” Stop what you are saying and block the surprise attack Chaeyoung does, look at her cheeky smile as you know she almost scored“-Do, you can do almost everything you want” you continue what you were saying as you send the puck toward her direction.
“Yeah that's true” Chaeyoung smiled toward you, then quickly smacking the puck directly into your goal, getting herself a point. “So, what do you two work at?”.
“A Gaming cafe, Came to LA as a summer trip with my friends after exams” Isa replied, taking your mallet and shooting the puck from her side.
“Damn, compared to you two my job sounds boring as fuck, You are a model, you work at a gaming cafe, and i am just a barista at a cafe” you jokingly roast yourself, eyes moving from side to side with each side the puck goes to.
“Huh, not my first thought when it comes to your job,” Isa says, a bit surprised. “But…i imagine you look quite handsome in barista clothes” And there she goes again, with that flirty smile and curious eyes that you swear you fall in love deeper than you were.
Now look at Chaeyoung, not as flirty as the other girl but it seems that, unlike the first time you met her, she is much less tense, more at ease around the two of you, genuinely enjoying her time.
After the air hockey game is over and a quick stop to get some of LA’s finest street food (which the two seemed to really enjoy for their first time), the three of you are now sitting on the boardwalk, the sound of the waves going back and forth is singing in your ears, however now they topic of the conversation seems to get more…laid-back.
“So let me get this straight: your best friend is Korean, right?” You ask, Isa responds with a small nod
“And she has a British accent?” Chaeyoung continues your question, getting Isa to laugh again.
“Yes-” she stops talking to take a sip from the water bottle in her. “Fully Korean, with a British accent, one time my friends and I were listening to a song called ‘Run 2 U’ by some random group, and she said the name of the song as” she suddenly released a small chuckle unable to keep her cool.
“As what? Just tell us” Chaeyoung comments, half smiling as if she already knows the answer, Isa meanwhile slowly downed the water so she wouldn't choke before finally saying after a deep breath.
“Raeun tew yew…” The mock accent that Isa adds gives the punch line more of an oomph as you all start laughing, small tears of joy leave your eyes as you slam the wooden deck, meanwhile, Chaeyoung covers her mouth to hide the amount of blush she has on her cheeks from how hard she is laughing.
“Oh that was good, I didn't expect to laugh this hard” You exclaim, taking a deep breath as you now go back to staring at the waves. “Honestly…this date has been really fun, with both of you,”.
“Like-wise, we both enjoyed your company as well” Chaeyoung replies, sweetly giggling while her left fingers go to her hair, pushing it aside with the side effect of getting your cheeks slightly pink, luckily the weak lighting make it hard to see for the two girls.
“Same for me” Isa chimed in with a smile. “Say, want to continue it somewhere else? It's getting late” she prompts as a soft yawn escapes her mouth.
“Huh? Okay, if you want my place is close” you say, standing up from the deck as you lend your hand to help her stand up.
“That's great” She says as her gaze turns to the other girl. “You're coming as well Chae?”.
Chaeyoung suddenly tensed up in surprise. “Chae?” she asks, to which Isa just giggles at her rather cute reaction.
“Yeah, it's a cute nickname, you don't mind it, right?” Her tone is sweet when she asks her friend with a warm smile, that way when Chaeyoung smiles, she mirrors the same warmth with her own smile.
“Of course i don't” she responds, standing up and lightly stretching to gain some sense of her body, “So? Lets go”
“Great” Isa comments before turning her gaze to you. “Jake, mind leading the way?”
=================================
The ride home is quieter than usual.
Not that there were not any talks inside the cab you decided to take to your place, but most of the talking was done by the two girls, sitting on each side of you, only speaking in a language you can only assume is korean.
It’s a simple loop: Isa says something, they look at you (which you could only smile awkwardly at their happy gazes), Chaeyoung answers with something else and they start giggling, sneaking another look at you and then it goes back again.
Eventually the taxi stops, leaving you right in front of your apartment complex. “Hmm, it really is close to the pier” Isa commented, easy for her to say when the entire bus ride has been ten minutes but for you it felt like an eternity.
As you scale the stairs up to your floor and walk to your apartment, you manage to fish the keys to your apartment out of your jeans pockets and open the door.
“Well here we are,” you say, getting inside and turning the lights on, revealing the living room, a couple boxes of instant-noodles on the table, the tv is on with a random news channel. “As you can see, it's not that big but its co-”
As you turn around to look at the two girls, your mouth opens wide in shock.
In front of you is Isa, head tilted slightly to the side as her lips close the distance with Chaeyoung’s. Her hands are not left idle as they both smoothly travel across the older’s back, feeling every inch of her partner’s body.
Meanwhile Chaeyoung's eyes are wide open and her body froze, surprised by the sudden act of Isa. It's not long until she as well eases up into the kiss, gently closing her eyes and putting her hands on the younger’s hips, you can hear how tongues slowly starts getting into the mix as the two girls vocalise small hums and whimpers. Eventually the torture comes to an end as their lips part from eachother but not their hands
“That… was your plan in the…end?” Chaeyoung asks in between pants, trying to collect air to aid surprise
“Of course, and besides…” Isa answers, turning her head enough to get her eyes on you, more specifically a bit down from your eyes. “It seems like he enjoys the show”.
Look down at the visible tent that is forming inside your pants and your hand that is slowly stroking itself to the beautiful yet unholy sight in front of you, another look into their eyes and you can see the arousement both girls share at your own prize.
“Come behind her jake, she feels divine” Isa elongates the last word-just the right way to get you Following her prompt, walking toward the two girls and getting behind Chaeyoung, your hands wrap around her midriff and your lips find themselves on the back of her neck causing her to quietly gasp.
With each second that your threeway makeout session was passing you could feel your pants getting tighter and your lust growing larger, enough that in a very bold move you let your palm find Isa’s right buttcock, giving it a gentle squeeze that makes her release a soft moan and take a look at you with a slutty smirk.
“You sneaky motherfucker” she playfully said, getting one of her hands off Chaeyoung's hips and wrapping it around your length. “You're hard already” she exclaims, leaving the two of you standing in front of her, wanting more from her, and from each other.
“I cant wait any longer~” Isa breathily says, giving you two a playful wink before disappearing into your bedroom. As lust quickly takes over your body you grab Chaeyoung by the hips and pull her into a kiss, and by how Chaeyoung quickly reciprocates the kiss and doesn't pull away, you can tell she wants it too.
You don't have time to process the texture of Chaeyoung lips, or how her long, soft legs are wrapped around your waist. Your only goal is to get the two of you into the bedroom, where Isa sits on your king sized bed with hungry eyes, licking her lips in anticipation. 
You let Chaeyoung get on your bed as you quickly join the two girls while tossing your shirt off to the side of the bed letting the two girls marvel at your naked chest.
“Fuck” Chaeyoung mouthed.
“Told you he was hot” Isa adds, scooting herself in front of you to get a hold of your chest before leaning in for a quick peck on your lips. “You don't mind undressing yourself, do you? me and Chae here have a show we need to give you” No answer was needed besides a nod as you went to the edge of your bed, letting the two girls begin.
It starts with kissing, slow yet sensual with Isa taking the lead by Straddling Chaeyoung's lap while one of her hands begins to glide across Chaeyoung's curves, ending at her left breast. “Fuck unnie, the things i will do to have a body like yours”.
Chaeyoung elicits a muffled moan to the soft grope Isa gives her, eyes completely shut and her and head looking up to let the pleasure take over. Soon Isa begins moving her hands all around her body, giving every inch of skin attention until eventually she stops one hand on the hem of Chaeyoung's shirt, the other supporting her from behind.
“You don't mind letting me take it off, right?” A quick nod of approval from the older one and Isa begins to slowly pull it up, moving to the right to let you see how slowly but surely more skin is revealed until finally the shirt is completely above her head giving you a clear view of Chaeyoung's black, lacy bra.
During all of this you are hard as a rock, can't take your eyes off from the two girls in front of you, even while you attempt to zip your jeans and rid them off your legs leaving you only in your briefs. You could swear you saw Isa lick her lips at the first sights of your briefs.
“Can I take yours too?” Chaeyoung's question is needy, eyes showing every sign of want to her Partner, hands are not left idle either with both of them resting on the upper part of Isa’s midriff, slightly below her two mounds.
“Of course, Unnie” she responds, leaning her body back and relaxing herself to let the older begin a strip tease of her own, every second that passes raises the sexual tension between them to a new level.
Unlike Chaeyoung, Isa’s crop top is not as loose compared to her black shirt, revealing the younger's breasts, covered with a crimson colored undergarments of her own with nipples taut from the arousal.
“Much better” Isa sighs in relief, feeling lighter without her crop top that is now thrown somewhere to the floor as once again she looks at you with a soft gaze however her mouth is anything but, painted with a sultry smile that can only speak trouble, finally with a breathy voice she playfully asks
“You're coming, Jake?”
The way Isa says your name, it's enough to let your primal instincts take over you, every red light is now turned green as you quickly pull Isa from behind into your lap, feeling her naked skin in your palms, right hand rests on her breast while the left hand goes to her thigh, rubbing and squeezing it to your heart's content.
“Oh god, yessss” Isa hisses the last word, it was clear that she enjoys every second of this, enough so that she doesnt pull away but instead leans in, meeting you in a torrid, messy makeout session, you two don't notice how Chaeyoung has already got rid of her whole bottom, only with her bra on with fingers already inside her pussy, definitely enjoying the view.
“Don't just stand there Chae, join us” This might be the most confident thing you have said this entire evening but it sure works on her since Chaeyoung now sits in front of Isa, palms massaging her clothed thighs, giving you a free hand to grope Isa’s other breast.
Those are not the same girls you met a couple of hours ago during that blind date, any semblance of innocence and fluff was left outside the door, now replaced with Lust and it's oh so clear with how Chaeyoung's eyes get aroused with each button she pops out of Isa jeans until eventually she finds her undergarment, same color as her bra with a wet spot in the middle.
Knowing what Chaeyoung was doing, Isa takes her hands into her denim jeans, lowering both the jeans and her own panties before throwing them away, leaving her creamy, thick thighs for both of you to revel in.
With the excitement in your body. You don't notice how Isa left your grasp, crawling away with a sway of her hips from side to side, now near her Chaeyoung they both look at you with an inviting smile, now giving you a chance to see both of them in their full glory.
With a devilish smirk Isa now moves behind the older girl, her eyes looking directly at you in an attempt to lure you in. Then a click can be heard as Chaeyoung’s bra now falls onto the mattress, Isa quickly joins her as now in front of you, two naked, gorgeous ladies sit in front of you.
And finally, knowing what the last piece is missing from the puzzle, you finally grab the hem of your boxers, pulling it down to let your Hardened cock stand strong and proud.
“Told you he was big” Isa exclaims, giving a small nudge to Chaeyoung with a small giggle, her friend quickly joins her.
“Yeah…so big” she mumbles quietly, her finger inside her mouth, lightly chewing on it to hold in the excitement of seeing your size. 
However, you didn't come this far with them just to watch each other naked, and they are not either as without saying a word, the two of them playfully shove you down into the mattress and get into their positions.
It starts off with Isa finding her place on your legs once again, looking directly at you with her thighs wrapped around your cock, only the tip is exposed to the air as after a flirty wink, she starts rubbing her thigh on you.
“Oh shit, Isa…” 
You groan, the rest of your voice comes out as a moan that gets her excited, you could have witnessed the obscene act of her thigh job until the end of time, however it is quickly obstructed by Chaeyoung's ass planted on your chest, her rear side all for you to view how it moves, you are not surprised why she is a model with a body as divine as hers.
“Jake…i can feel you twitching ” Isa whines, feeling your tip slightly touch her entrance is enough to let some precum leak out of your tip with you releasing another moan.
“Hey, let me have some too” Chaeyoung interrupts, taking her thumb and brushing it over your tip and grabbing some of it as you could hear how she gives it a small lick before humming cheerfully at your taste.
“Ooo, he taste good~” how the fuck did you even think this girl was innocent again?
“Can I have some unnie?”
“Sure” as if Chaeyoung’s timing was perfect, your first shot of cums leaks out of your member as she quickly gets some on her fingers. 
“Say ahhh” Chaeyoung prompts as Isa happily obliges, letting her fingers get inside her mouth, tasting . Its down right torture how you are not allowed to see what might as well be a scene from an adult film but regardless you can only enjoy the sounds, its not like you didnt do it before.
As your libido starts growing, so does your confidence as your palms firmly hold each buttcock of Chaeyoung, feeling its texture by softly squishing it, kneading it like dough causing Chaeyoung to utter a moan while arching her body back to give you all of the signals that she is enjoying it.
“Okay, this is enough teasing, we want the real thing now” Isa exclaims, Freeing your cock from the confines of her thighs giving it a breath of fresh air as now she squats over your face, giving you a clear view of her shaven pussy. Chaeyoung meanwhile heads over to sit next to your cock, still standing, waiting for the next storm to hit.
“I assume I am still not gonna get a look aren't i?” You ask, trying to sound cocky however Isa didn't say anything as she was slowly lowering her body, obstructing your view once again. With her thighs around your body and her pussy so close to your face, you let your tongue out giving her lips the first lick, just to test the waters.
“Oh fuck, yess” You hear Isa muffled moans from pleasure, feeling her ass gyrating on your tounge, enjoying every moment as you could feel the friction of her thighs on your face.
“You should join us Chaeyoung-AH, i can see him waiting just for you~” you could feel yourself getting even harder than before by the way Isa playfully invites her friend, all the while she is overtaken by pleasure. you are excited to see how Chaeyoung goes off with you, however your thoughts are stopped with a loud groan, not expecting your cock to feel the tightness of her pussy wrapped around you.
After the first contact Chaeyoung starts slowly moving up and down, each dip takes your cock deeper inside her, you could feel how each time you were inside her fluids were coating you more and more. “Oh my god Isaaaaa-” she stops her sentence, quickly releasing a sultry, husky moan. “His f-feels so good…”.
“His tongue too unnie, he is eating me out so well” Isa adds. It's nice to hear the compliment, so much that you get the confidence to start moving at your own pace, pushing your tongue inside. Meanwhile your hands grope Isa’s ass, giving you the grip to start pushing your hips in a matching pace to chaeyoung’s downward movement, Causing the two girls to scream from pleasure, holding each other in order to not collapse on the spot.
You could only Imagine how the girl’s lewd expressions were, just from the ungodly sounds, the scent of lust and cum, and the feeling of their curves on your body you could guess the fun they were having, but it would not be over until you all finally relieved yourself.
“Are you close Jake?” Isa manages to form a question while looking down, you could only respond with a muffled ‘yes’ and a nod of approval.
“I'm close too guys, i have to cum” Chaeyoung replies, releasing another moan in between bohnces it seems like you were all in on the same train of thought as you could feel yourself getting closer to your climax, even without Isa’s Ass directly on your face your view was getting hazy from ecstacy.
“Shit girls, i am going to-” you couldn't even finish the sentence before finally releasing your cum, thank god you pulled out of Chaeyoung just in time.
Your thick load goes all over their bodies, on Chaeyoung thighs, on Isa’s midriff, some even spills on your own abs, you are also not alone as they both get their own orgasm which goes all around your body, Chaeyoung coating your cock and Isa spilling around your face and abs
It takes a while but eventually you are all drained, both girls fall into each of your side, finally giving you a chance to see the two girls laid on the mattress, their bodies painted with cum from the three of you, their faces happy and satisfied.
For a couple of minutes it's quiet, the only way you communicate is with your eyes, looking at each other not with lust but instead with a warm, peaceful gaze.
Eventually Chaeyoung finally breaks the silence. “Fuck, im not a virgin but i gotta say; that is the best sex i had in my life”
“Same for me, i don't know if i want a round 2 or to stop” Isa joins between heavy pants, her hands wrap around your body as she looks at you with the same warm smile she had back when you first saw her.
“I don't know about you two, but i need a good rest after this” you manage to say as you once again lay down on the bed, eyes looking at the ceiling with each hand goes behind the girls’s back, pulling them closee to you.
“Okay then, we will start cleaning and then join you” Isa replies, letting you close your eyes and get some rest. However not before you can hear faint sounds of slurping as you open eye and see Chaeyoung's lips wrapped around the tip of your cock, isa behind holding her hair and tying it to makeshift ponytail.
“Hmm, it seems you two wanted another” you say, smiling at the two girls.
“Hey, you're still hard and we are still horny, you complain?” Isa asks, her eyes locking into yours paired with a flirty grin and a cute wink.
Something tells you that you wont get a good rest from those two girls.
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Pairing: Dick Grayson/Nightwing x (f)reader
Tags: NSFW, secret identity, vigilante reader, office romance, fingering, kissing, biting, wounds, penetration, slightly toxic Dick Grayson,
"Holy shit, y/n?" A gruff voice called your name from across the police station. You turned away from your papers and in the direction the address was coming from, meeting a bloodshot wild gaze of a man who looked around your age. You didn't recognize the man, who was currently being escorted into a cell.
You didn't respond, assuming he confused you with someone else. He called you again, though. "Y/n! It's Spencer Van! We were in the fifth grade together-"
You met his crazy gaze again, raising your brow in question.
"Ms. Strums class!" He added.
You blinked, recalling the name of your fifth grade teacher. You began to recognize him. And your mouth twisted in disgust. You didn't remember much, other than him being a piece of shit; bullying the smarter kids, and constantly interrupting your teacher during class. Not someone worth remembering.
Your grimace didn't deter him, though, as his gaze slowly studied you up and down. You began to regret your earlier decision to discard your blazer when his gaze landed on the undone top buttons of your blouse.
You hated going to the police station for this exact reason. The staff were nice, but the people they brought in... different story.
"Damn," Spencer groaned, his tongue sliding across his teeth. "You grew up gorgeous."
The blood drained from your face, and you felt nauseous. Now definitely swallowing bile. Detectives and staff were looking between you two as you took in a steadying breath and tried to avoid glaring at him.
"You like me like this?" Spencer continued, grinning a dirty, crooked smile and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "You like seeing me in handcuffs?-"
Before he finished his sentence, he was brutally shoved into the cell. The sound of the slam echoing throughout the station.
The detective who shut him up, Dick Grayson, stood towering, muscular, and gorgeous in his uniform, and your secret crush on him only grew. Grayson barely broke a sweat while Spencer bounced off the wall and was now wheezing, struggling to get back up.
"You son of a bitch-" Spencer choked. "You fucking broke my rib!"
"Yeah?" Dick challenged. "Press charges after you're done serving ten years for drug trafficking. Prick." Then he slammed the cell door shut.
The rest of the room fell back into routine, the sounds of phone calls, walkies, filing papers, and conversations filling the air once more.
Grateful for the change in pase, you returned to your documents.
"Ms. L/n, are you alright?" A low masculine voice you instantly recognized spoke behind you. You turned to see the detective. Sharp features and ocean-colored eyes pierced through your thoughts, catching you off guard. Your breath hitch at his size towering over you, while the smell of beachy cologne invaded your senses. His uniform hugged his body so well that you could almost see the defined muscle under the material.
"Yeah, thanks for shutting him up." You stammered, your shoulders rising slightly.
"Im sorry I didn't do it sooner." He frowned, his gaze flicking to Spencer, who still groaned in his cell.
You gathered your files. "Should we sit down to look over the Falcone case?"
"Yes, right." Dick gestured for you to take a seat at his desk. It was the only one in the room that wasn't covered in a million papers. Just his computer, a notepad, pen, and calculator lined up against each other in a tidy order, with a half finished cup of coffee sat on the corner. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?"
You shook your head. "Is there somewhere private we can talk?" Then, at his raised brow, you rushed to add. "I'll need to share some sensifitive information."
He nodded in understanding and got up, leading you down the hall. Your heels clicked behind him as he opened the door to a meeting room lined with shelves. A single table and two chairs sat in the middle of it, illuminated by warm toned lights. The noise died down as he shut the door before pulling out your chair for you to sit.
He spoke up as you sat down. "Late nights at the DA's office, huh?"
You blinked, trying your best to look confused, also trying to cover the blush on your cheeks. "N-no. Why do you ask?"
He shrugged, offering you his signature joking smile. "According to our email exchanges, you were originally supposed to come here yesterday. I was just curious why the last-minute change. I've got a very busy schedule today."
"Im sorry," you shook your head, rushing. "I just... I wasn't feeling well."
"Oh no." Dick said, his brow creasing.
His tone of worry hid a chuckle that was desperately trying to escape. You were such a bad liar. "I'm glad you're feeling better then."
"Yes, well," you took your seat, pulling out a series of photographs from your folder and placing them on the table for him to see. "Falcone met with the owner of MacKenzie Buildings in his club two nights ago."
Dick made a big show of studying the photographs, which he took himself two nights ago. "Hmmm."
You continued. "Yesterday, as you know, MacKenzie was found dead in his apartment."
Dick nodded along to your words, picking up a photograph to study it closer before frowning. His brows furrowed as he looked at the picture. "How'd you get these? Did you hire a P.I.?"
"Not exactly." You lowered your voice, eyeing the locked door behind you.
When you turned around, his blue gaze was narrowed at you. Questioning.
"I'd like to keep the source confidential."
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Two nights ago.
"I need to go use the ladies' room." You spoke over the music before getting off your date's lap. He grinned and nodded, barely acknowledging you as he was distracted with a pair of women dancing on a tabletop.
You matched with the man on a hookup app an hour ago, suggesting this club to meet up, and he was more than happy to go - probably thinking he was going to get lucky.
In reality, it was just a cover.
As soon as you walked off the main floor, you headed for the back of the club and out to an alleyway behind the building. Unwrapping a bandana from your wrist, you tied it around your face, hiding all of it, save for your eyes.
Taking quiet steps in your combat boots on the gravel, you grasped at the bag slung across your shoulder as you spotted your opening. With a running start, you jumped up, grabbed onto the ladder, and began to climb.
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Nightwing followed you for the fourth week in a row. This time, your escapades brought you to Falcone's nightclub, with some creep who wouldn't stop running his hands over the open back of your corset top. Dick had half a mind to knock him out there and then each time you stiffened from his hand, brushing your skin.
Wearing an all-black outfit which helped you blend in, you hiked your makeshift mask covering your face. You used the railings to scale your way up the roof with practiced ease. Either gymnastics or calisthenics - if Dick had to guess. Either that, or the mandatory self-defense classes at Gotham Law had incorporated parkour into the syllabus. Brushing his chin with his fingers, he perched casually on a nearby rooftop.
Silently lifting yourself up and positioning yourself on a rooftop that overlooked a large window, behind which Falcone and his men were gathered around a table. Dick watched you pull out a camera from your bag and begin to snap pictures. Like you were some kind of private investigator.
Dick watched patiently. He's seen you do this several times now. He was curious where this was heading this night.
Silence and the howl of wind replaced the club’s thumping bass, and for a moment, you felt utterly alone - until you heard the faintest shuffle above.
Instantly, you rolled out of the way just as a fist came down to the spot where you just were. You got up, hid your camera in your bag, and assessed the assailant. Only one. Good. That you can handle.
You dodged the following blow as well, dropping to your hands and swiping your leg under both of his, knocking him off balance. He went down fast, and you took out the taser you always had in your pocket, bringing it to his neck and activating it until his body began to shake. You held it long enough for him to pass out. Then, you held your hand to his neck, making sure you found his pulse, ensuring he was still alive before you walked on, taking your camera back out.
As you continued snapping the pictures, what you didn't see were the two other bodyguards approaching you on the roof.
Good thing Nightwing did.
Out of nowhere, you were grabbed around your waist and flung onto a higher up rooftop, and away from the meeting. "Hey!-"
"Quiet." A deep voice orderer in your ear.
When you two landed on another rooftop, you stumbled and caught yourself on the rubble. You turned around, facing your new assailant.
Momentary shock took over as you were met with THE Nightwing. The protector of bludhaven, glowering down at you with a disappointed look under his mask.
"Nightwing!" You choke out.
"The one and only." He confirmed.
You've never seen him in person, never mind standing inches away from him. Your initial shock wore off to make room for anger of your own. "Look... thank you for saving me, but I don't need your help."
He smirked like you just made a joke, then gestured behind you, tilted his chin. "Turn around."
Tentatively, you turned and faced the street, away from him.
"Look down, down at the alleyway." He said. "See those guys patrolling outside the club with their M16's?"
You strained your eyes, trying to see what he was referring to. "No..."
"Exactly." He came to stand side to side with you, taking something out or his utility belt and holding it up to you. Upon initial inspection, you concluded it was a lens of some sort, and you brought it up to your eye. The lens did show a pair of bodies walking back and forth behind a brick wall. Heat sensors.
Embarrased, you handed him the lens. You took a breath, steadying yourself under his intense gaze. Heart pounding, you wondered why his presence felt just as dangerous as comforting.
"It sucks. Doing what I do. Not everyone can." He said.
"I'm not trying to do what you do." You defended yourself. "I'm no vigilante."
"Why do you need these pictures?"
You follow his gaze down to the camera clutched in your hands. "That's confidential,"
He then stood face to face with you. Or rather, face to chest with his frame dwarfing you. "Are you a P.I.?"
"No." You huffed, hoping your raised brow will stop any more questions. "Thank you for saving me. See you around." Then you hopped down the rails and to the ground.
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You pushed open the door to your apartment, stepping in still in your club clothing. The corset top was dirty and pulled out of your leather tights, which tore at some point during your escapades, and your feet were in immeasurable pain from walking in those boots all night. You were tired as you tossed your keys into a bowl and locked the door.
A man cleared his throat behind you. "So this is where you live," Nightwing stepped into your living room.
Your voice hitched, and you jumped, rushing to switch on your lights. You stumble over your heals and nearly fall. He caught you around your waist and stabilized you.
"What were you doing at Falcone's club?" He asked, eyes searching your apartment.
"Did you follow me?" You asked, tone incredulous.
"Didn't have to," he pulled up a piece of paper and held it to you.
Your eyes widened. "Is that my car insurance?"
"Mhmm," he nodded, walking to your kitchen and flipping through the papers on your counter. "Pro tip: when you go on patrol, don't bring ID. Otherwise, the mask becomes obsolete." He grinned and picked up an envelope. "Ah cute, your children's hospital donation went through."
You snatched the envelope from his hand. "Give me that! And get out of my house!"
He tisked and shook his head. "Not before you tell me when you were doing following Falcone."
"I- I already told you-"
"You told me fuck all." He interrupted. "Now, I know exactly who you are, miss. L/N I know everyone you've ever met and how to find them. Easily."
He stalked closer, the shadows of your dimly lit room casting sharp angles on his face. “Now ill ask you one more tim. What were you doing at Falcone’s club?” His voice was low, the threat behind it unmistakable, and for a moment, you wondered if Nightwing was as dangerous as the people he fought.
You gulped, straightening your neck. "Look, nightasshole-"
He snorted.
"You're breaking and entering." You continued. "I could call the cops on you."
He grinned, wondering if he should let you, only for his phone ring when you dialed. Then, he set the idea aside. "That building you were on when you were snapping your pictures belongs to Falcone. You were on private property without permission. I'm sure a lawyer would know what the name for that is,"
Your shoulders sagged as you lowered your gaze. "Trespassing."
"Very good." He said. "So go ahead and place that call, y/n." He shrugged. "Tell them that Nightwing, identity unknown, address unknown, broke and entered into your house." You approached you, his tone sharpening. "Meanwhile, I'll place my own call. About Y/n L/n, from apartment 2a on 21 Nelson rd. For trespassing on Carmine Falcone’s private property. We'll see how long you get to keep your license."
Your eyes widened in shock. Would he really ruin your career over this? And all of a sudden, the mantle of "protector" became subjective in your mind. You swallowed nervously, regarding him with unease.
In a sudden move, you raised your knee, aiming straight for his groin, hoping to take him by surprise.
He was way ahead of you, and he dodged your knee along with the follow up attacking from your punches and kicks.
You were backed up against the wall, one of his hands easily held both your wrists above your head.
"Cute," he murmured, his voice mockingly soft, as though you're struggling amused him. "Should I be insulted that you think you can fight off Blüdhaven’s ‘protector’? Those defense classes they make you lawyers take get worse and worse each year -"
You collided your forehead with his nose.
"Shit!" He swore, then huffed a laugh, raising his free hand to wipe at the trickle of blood trickling from his nose, and looked down at his hand. The distraction you hoped for wasn't effective as you struggled against his hold, which was rock solid.
"I think you broke my nose." He said as a matter of factly. "How's your head?"
"Fine!" You snapped at him, fighting to keep your vision from blurring at the edges. That was the wrong angle to use, you thought, cursing yourself for forgetting the lessons you got from your self-defense training.
"Yeah?" He sounded doubtful. "Not throbbing anywhere? Like over here," he gave a gentle tap to your temple.
"Ow!" The point he pressed shot excruciating pain throughout your head, and your vision blurred even more.
"Yeah, valiant effort on your part." He commented, his voice growing more and more muffled as you struggled to... to...
He snapped his fingers in front of your eyes. "Hey, hey, no. No falling asleep. You gave yourself a concussion."
"Get... out of my home," you slurred.
"Can't do that either." He sighed. "I'd be leaving you for dead." He grinned. "That wouldn't be very heroic of me."
♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤♤
Well, this is certainly the most creative way he had to keep a woman up all night, Dick thought to himself, bringing the smelling salts up to your nose.
"Ah, christ!" You exclaimed, jerking away from the violent stench. "Why do you even have these with you?"
"You'd be surprised how often head injuries can occur in my line of work." He explained, putting them away. "I've had to keep myself awake after a lot of brawls."
You nodded, eyeing him wearily. It was so odd how casual he was acting about this entire situation. You felt like you were a prisoner in your own home, with him as a friendly warden.
"How's your nose?" You asked, your hands rubbing your temples to try and ease the pain.
"Eh," he shrugged, looking at his reflection on your phone. "I've had worse."
He demanded on staying until he confirmed you were better. When the throbbing stopped, he did a quick assessment of your vitals using some kind of gadget you've never seen before.
The following afternoon, you came back to a package resting on the pile of mail on your kitchen counter.
There was a note on top, scrawled in sharp, hurried letters: "Thank me later."
Suspecting who it might be from, you carefully turned the folder over, spilling its contents—a stack of photos showing Carmine Falcone in a close conversation with Owen MacKenzie, the owner of MacKenzie Buildings.
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Present Day
"Let me guess," Dick said, arms crossed as he leaned against his desk. "You’re suggesting there’s a connection between MacKenzie’s death and his meeting with Falcone."
You nodded. "Just speculation for now, but it’s no secret Falcone’s been after those developments. I think he made MacKenzie an offer he didn’t like, and the next day…"
Dick’s gaze narrowed, his fingers tapping idly against the edge of his desk. "So, what do you need from me?”
"You have access to the autopsy report," you replied, leaning forward. "If we can prove it was murder we can keep those properties out of Falcone’s hands.”
He studied you, scratching his head. "That’s making a lot of assumptions."
“Which is why I came to you,” you pressed, holding his gaze.
He raised a brow, lips quirking in mild amusement.
"If we’re right, we could keep dozens of families from getting pushed out onto the streets," you said, more earnestly.
After a long beat, Dick sighed and nodded. "I’ll see what I can do."
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Later That Night
Either that concussion affected your memory, or it dulled your self-preservation instincts, Dick mused as he watched you. He couldn't fathom why you kept diving headfirst into life-threatening situations.
You climbed the scaffolding at an abandoned construction site, slipping past rusted barriers until you reached the eighth floor. Perched on a narrow ledge, you crept toward a makeshift office in the corner. Little more than a desk and chair surrounded by half-finished walls. Kneeling, you pulled out a lock-picking set and made quick work of the drawer, glancing over your shoulder once before opening it.
A low chuckle sounded behind you. "Not a shred of self-preservation in that cute little body."
You jumped, heart pounding, and spun around to find Nightwing leaning casually against a support column, arms crossed over his chest.
"God," you muttered, trying to steady your breathing, "I thought you were a -"
"Bad guy?" He chuckled, tilting his head. "What exactly would you have done if i was?"
"Maybe tase you," you shot back, turning back to sift through the documents in the drawer.
In two strides, he was beside you, looking over your shoulder at the papers. "What are we looking at?"
You glanced up at him, momentarily struck by his proximity. It took a beat too long for you to refocus, the sheer size and quiet intensity of him throwing you off balance.
"I’m looking for a ledger or a blueprint - anything tying this site to MacKenzie."
Nightwing raised a brow. "The project’s been transferred to Falcone. Announced just this morning."
"Do you believe that?"
He sighed, arms crossed. "Alright, trouble. Enlighten me - what’s your theory?"
"You really need me to spell it out?" you asked, arching a brow.
He smirked. "You think Falcone’s behind MacKenzie’s death."
You nodded. "A friend in Blüdhaven is working on getting me his autopsy report, and - "
"Oh, a friend?" he interrupted with a teasing tone. "Must’ve gone through all the right channels to get that, yeah?"
You frowned. "Of course."
He leaned in, the playful spark still in his eyes. "You know, a real friend would’ve gotten it for you just cus. No questions asked."
You stifled a blush, hoping your mask hid the heat rising in your cheeks. His gaze softened as it lingered on you, just a shade too long, his lips curling in a way that made your pulse quicken.
You were overcome with a need to defend Dick after Nightwing’s comment. "He's more noble than you," you said.
And oh god, if the irony alone didn't make Dick want to burst out laughing. Pull yourself together, he said to himself.
"Did anyone ever tell you." His voice was lower now, softer. "You have really pretty eyes."
Thrown off, you glanced away, muttering, "Just… let me know if you see anything with MacKenzie’s name on it."
A low ding from the far end of the floor interrupted your sentence. You both froze, watching as the elevator doors slid open, and heavy footsteps echoed into the hollow silence. You quickly locked the drawer and put everything back in place.
Before you could even react, Nightwing’s arm was around your waist, pulling you back toward the edge of the building. He fired his grappling hook to the floor above, tugging you both up to safety. His hold on you was firm yet controlled.
Landing, you were acutely aware of every inch of him pressed against you, his gaze unreadable as he raised a gloved finger to his lips, signaling for silence. You swallowed, pulse racing, unable to tear your attention away from the solid, unyielding warmth of him beside you.
"Destroy every file on that table," a voice ordered. "Burn it all if you have to. I don’t want any trace left of his fingerprints here."
Your eyes widened. Proof that MacKenzie had been involved after all. You looked up at Nightwing, who nodded, clearly understanding the gravity of the moment.
The voice spoke again, sending a thrill of hope through you. "And make sure they do the same over at the south location. We don’t need loose ends."
Your eyes met Nightwing’s, urgency clear in your expression. There was still a chance to get evidence.
The smell of smoke drifted up from the floor below, mingling with the crisp night air as flames started licking up from the table and chair. You looked at Nightwing, panic flashing in your eyes. He didn’t move until the elevator dinged again, signaling the men’s departure.
"We need to get to that second site," you whispered, barely able to contain your urgency.
Nightwing’s gaze hardened, his earlier playfulness replaced by a steely resolve. "I need to get there. You’re going home."
"But-"
"No buts," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You want to help these people? Stay out of sight and leave the dangerous work to me. Trust me. This is my city."
For a moment, you considered arguing back, but something in his gaze warned you not to push him further. Instead, you gave a reluctant nod, allowing him to guide you away.
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There was a knock at your window.
You look up from your phone, already ready for bed in your pijama shorts and tube top. You see his outline through the glass as you aproach the window, already half-expecting bad news as you open it cautiously. You are met with Blüdhaven’s protector, leaning on the rail of your balcony, clutching his side, blood seeping through the cracks of his suit.
"Hey," he rasped, short breathes coming out of cut lips with a pained smirk as he raised a USB. "Got your evidence."
"You’re bleeding," you said, your voice a mix of shock and concern.
"Only a little," he grunted, but when he stumbled, you caught his arm, guiding him inside before he collapsed entirely. "You should see the other guy."
He helped you remove the top of his suit, leaving him bare to his hips. You tried not to linger too much on the ridges of hard-defined muscles lining up his chest, arms and stomach - it was a challenging endeavor.
Your hands moved carefully as you cleaned the gash on his side, trying not to let your worry show. "You should’ve gone to a hospital."
"They ask too many questions," he said with a wince but tried to smile. "And I’d rather have you play nurse."
Huffing, you rolled your eyes, but his words sent your pulse racing. You could feel his breath close to your cheek as you look down, the faint brush of his gloved fingers against your arm as you worked.
"Ive got a first aid kit. One moment." You said, getting up and bringing the white box that was kept on the top of your bookshelf. You've had some practice stiching up wounds back when your little siblings would get scrapes on the playground. You even wanted to be a doctor when you were a kid. Before you decided studying law was more interesting. Especially in a city like Bludhaven.
He drew in a gasp as you carefully threaded the needle, stitching up his wound. Finishing up, you placed a gauze bandage around the affected area, tisking. "You should still go get it checked out."
His fingers gently wrapped around your wrist, making you look up at him. Your eyes flickered to his, and for a second, wondering what color they were behind his mask.
“You dont need to worry about me,” he said softly, his fingers coming to play with the hem of your crop top. Your skin tingled where his touch brushed you. "But... I like that you do."
His words hung in the air, and your pulse raced as his gaze dropped to you lips, then back to your eyes.
“We shouldn’t-” you started, but before you could finish, his hand slid up under the back of your shirt, his warm fingers sending tingles along their path.
“I know,” he whispered, but then he pushed you towards him, lips pressing softly against yours.
Your hand moved to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. You took a moment to orocess the fact that you were kissing a stranger. It coukd be anyone under that mask. The need to know clawed at you.
"Nightwing?" You asked.
"Yes, trouble?" He wispered, lowering his lips to lay kissed down your neck.
You felt your cheeks warm as your shoulders rose. "D-do you do this often? Sleep with people you save?"
He grinned then, nipping your earlobe as his hand, covered in calluses and scars reached around you, pulling you onto his lap. Gasping, you could feel his hardness on your silk shorts.
"Only when they take such good care of me." He asnwered, grinding up against you, brushing your sensitive clit in the process. "You know, to return the favor."
You gasped and he repeated the movement a few more times, until you were riding him still separated by your layer of clothing.
"You're gonna open -" You wimpered when a particularly long brush of his Dick sent a powerful sensation down your core. "-Your stitches. This... this isn't a good idea."
"It's a good thing you're here to fix me up then, isn't it?" He challenged, an evil grin playing at his lips.
You moaned and shook your head, still trying to think logical. "It will hurt."
"It hurts more not being inside you now, trouble." He wispered- no, whined- as his lips brushed your ear. "Please, put me out of my misery."
His finger slipped under your shorts and between your folds. "Fuck-" He caught his lower lip between his teeth, the bit leaving a beautiful read mark on his gorgeous lips. "You're so wet, trouble."
Unable to look away from him, you whimpered as his fingers brushed your insides.
"I dont even know who you are," you wispered in disbelief, more so to yourself than to him. "I don't even know your name,"
A small, curious part of him wondered how you'd react if he pulled off his mask and presented you with the very same face that's been working with you this past week at the station. Your "good friend" detective Grayson.
"I'm no one," he said instead.
A minute later, his suit was discarded on your carpet, along with your pijamas, as the two of you gasped and writhe against each other on your couch. You were riding him, the feeling of him filling you up was extacy. And his view provided him with an image of you panting on top of him, red lips parted as your hair fell in messy stands around your face and shoulder. "Trouble," he moaned. "You're so fucking sexy. Oh my god."
"Thanks, you like... a seven." You joked, then squealed, arching your back as he rose and bit your collarbone, driving into you hard.
"For that," he growled, a wolfish grin playing on his lips as he eyed the new bite mark forming on your skin. "I'll keep you up all night."
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"Y/n?"
You looked up from your computer to see your co-worker standing nearby, balancing a cup of coffee and a stack of files. She offered you a shy smile.
"Detective Grayson from the station is here for you."
"Oh, thank you!" you replied, quickly standing and smoothing your skirt and blazer. Nearly tripping in your heels, you mentally scolded yourself for coming to work instead of calling in sick; you could’ve used more sleep.
At the front entrance, Dick waited in uniform, coffee in hand, his usual bright smile already in place.
"Good morning," you greeted him with as much energy as you could manage.
"Morning," he replied, grinning. You couldn’t help but wonder what he put in his coffee to always look so chipper.
He held up a folder. "Here are the autopsy reports you asked for."
Your eyes lit up. "You got them? Amazing!" Taking the folder, you looked up at him gratefully. "Thanks, Dick."
"Happy to help," he said, dimples appearing as he smiled down at you. "I’ve got to get back, but let me know how the case goes, yeah?" He turned toward the elevator, giving you a casual wave.
"I will! Have a great day!"
As you watched him leave, someone cleared their throat behind you. Turning around, you found Lily standing there, a slightly nervous expression on her face.
"Hey," you said slowly. "Is everything okay?"
Saying nothing, she took your arm gently and lifted her phone, angling the camera so you could see yourself in selfie mode.
Your hand shot to your mouth in shock.
Clear as day, a bite mark peeked out from your collarbone. "Oh god."
You felt your face heat up as realization hit. How many people had already seen that? And oh god! Dick definitely saw it too!
Meanwhile, in the elevator, Dick allowed himself a small, satisfied grin.
784 notes · View notes
thesunloveschips · 4 months ago
Text
Obsessed - Part 1 (Azriel x Reader)
Summary: In a world of boys, he’s an obsessed billionaire stalker. (Should I write a part 2?)
Warnings: stalker Azriel, lots of smutty fantasies, delusional reader.
Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)
****
Azriel knew that he was one mad bastard. How else would he have killed his half-brothers, his sperm donor (he refused to refer to that fuckface as a father), and that bitch of a step-mother to take over the one of the largest conglomerates in the world?
He never lost sight of his goals. 
Revenge? Check.
Securing wealth and assets? Check.
Taking care of his mother? Check. 
He’d come a long way from being the illegitimate child tortured when his father and half-brothers had nothing else to do to leading the largest conglomerate in the country. 
He was tactical, ruthless, and currently madly obsessed with a woman dancing in the club like this was her moment.
From his perspective, this was the moment their lives would be irrevocably changed. 
She was like the flame of a candle with a warm glow he was now desperate to covet. She glowed only for those who observed, not for those who simply looked. 
And he was observing. Studying every inch of her like she was his personal research project. 
Her body moved way too mesmerisingly. His cock was aching now. That dress was so nicely fitted on her curves. Such a pretty dress. He noted the dress so that he could fuck her in it in the future in honour of the day their paths crossed. 
Her eyes were closed or half-open for a long time but they were now properly open. Round eyes took in her surroundings as she drew her friend closer with a hand on her waist and looked at another club goer who had invaded their space. The man apologised and moved away. 
While this woman was guarding her friend, said friend was glaring at a man behind her who was getting too close. The friend tapped the man over his woman’s shoulder and was probably screeching at him. 
When the man began frowning and saying something back that did not seem like an apology for invading personal space, Azriel stood up, buttoning his blazer, and walked over. 
The crowd was barely a bother as he immediately reached them. He glared at the man from behind his woman and her friend and the man turned away and quickly moved. 
She looked at her friend and then noticed him standing behind her. He bowed his head and fished out his phone. He quickly typed in his message and showed it to them.
I’ll ensure that he’s removed. Enjoy your night. 
He simply put his phone in his pocket and bowed his head once. Y/n said something that he couldn’t hear but from the way her lips moved, it was most likely a word of gratitude. He nodded and returned to his area on the floor above. He whispered his order to one of his bodyguards and the two women watched as the man was escorted out of the club. 
The women looked at each other and laughed. And then she gathered her hair behind her head and held it there for a few seconds. Probably to let it cool after all the sweat. 
Her neck looked like a canvas. 
His canvas. 
And he’d mark her soon.  
Once he was seated again, he received his iPad from one of his men with a report of his woman. 
Y/n. A very suitable name. He’d moan or groan that name every night. 
Aged twenty four. He was twenty eight. This could definitely work.
A few basic details about her family. Soon, his own name would be added in her biodata under the category of spouse. 
But then he caught sight of another picture with a name and the relation to her as her ex-boyfriend. 
He was now curious. 
Azriel looked at Y/n, happy and dancing with her friend and so beautiful, she made him feel something pleasant. Was this happiness?
And then he looked at his iPad and frowned. He looked at her and then at the iPad again. 
Why would someone so beautiful, perfect, wonderful, intelligent woman, ever date this. . . this. . . whatever this was? 
He sent the name of this ex-boyfriend to his contact for more information and then scrolled. 
Height, weight, medical history, social media, and. . . A notification popped up with the report on the ex-boyfriend. The more he read it, the more he frowned. 
Azriel looked up and found Y/n now joined by a few more people with whom she laughed and drank. She was so. . . he didn’t really know how to articulate his own feelings but even reading her biodata made him feel pleasant. He was calm. 
But then he looked at the report of her ex-boyfriend.
His woman probably had some vision problems because why would this magnificent woman ever date this rat?
The more he read about their connection, the more he felt the familiar black rage rising in his chest like a behemoth. 
So the lowlife had made her cry. Spoken nonsense about her. Spread rumours. And had made her feel like she was less than the woman she was. 
Oh. 
Oh.
Well, well, well. 
Somebody needs to drown in the sewer he originated from. 
He’d take care of that soon.
Y/n’s own report revealed that she was there in the club to celebrate the birthday of her best friend’s youngest sister. 
Her best friend seemed like a reasonable woman. Nesta Archeron, her childhood friend who was more of a sister and also, her dancing companion. He glossed over more details of Nesta and Y/n’s friendship and finally set the iPad next to him. 
Beautiful was probably an understatement to describe his woman. 
Now there were two new details regarding Y/n. 
She was his. 
And he was hers. 
****
Y/n had hauled her luggage out of the apartment and somehow reached the airport. She was anxious and excited for her new semester. Her last wild party was back when Feyre turned twenty one. She danced and drank and enjoyed every bit of it. 
And she had the salivating memory of the sexiest guy she’d ever met. 
Y/n had easily woken up around eight in the morning with no headaches. But a night with alcohol usually made her a little slow the next morning.
Nesta was also awake and they were brushing their teeth. Y/n spat the foam and then turned to her friend. “Remember the guy who just popped and ensured that the creep would be kicked out?”
Nesta hummed, looking as suspicious as she could with a toothbrush in her mouth and a layer of foam on her lips. 
“The ways. . . I would fuck him, Nes. He could ask me to kneel and I’d do that and thank him.”
Nesta spat some foam before speaking. “He was way too hot.”
“Hot is an understatement.” Y/n washed her mouth and then resumed. “He looked like a god.”
“Does he speak though?” Nesta splashed some water on her face before grabbing the bottle of face wash.
“Why is that relevant?” Y/n was already rubbing the face wash on her cheeks. 
“You want him to groan while he fucks you, right? You don’t want a saintly priest silent in the sheets.” Nesta had made a very valid point.
“I would not be opposed to a priest if they were that hot.” Y/n remembered that she’d seen an Instagram reel about a novel where a priest was. . . indulging. She hadn’t read the novel but the reel remained on her mind. 
“Yeah.” Nesta sighed. 
“He was probably an illusion.”
���What?” Nesta nearly shouted. 
“We were drunk and dancing and the lights were all bam! Could’ve hallucinated seeing a guy that hot since it’s been far too long since we got laid.” Y/n sighed.
“Railed. We deserve to be railed, not laid. Laid is for the romantic sweethearts who dream of fluffy blankets and cupcakes. Railed is for people like us.” Nesta was a strong advocate of getting railed and right now, Y/n really wanted to get railed. 
“When you go for that semester exchange.” Nesta began seriously. “And see if there are hot guys there. If you do find them, make sure he has a hot brother or a hot best friend.” This was a mandate. 
“Yes, ma’am." This was what happened when two girl best friends were delusional after reading so many smutty romances.
A man who looked like he’d fuck the life out of her. Y/n always thought those were only fictional men like Dante Russo, Aiden King, or Zade Meadows.
But there he was. She'd met such a man.
And no, Y/n wasn't blessed with the good fortune of being railed by that man whose sex appeal was so high she was beginning to ache by just remembering him.
She knew exactly what all she wanted. 
She wanted to be taken against a wall. To be eaten out. To have her head pushed onto the bed while being fucked from behind. 
She wanted it rough.
To be handled.
And when she was satisfied just enough to make up for months of not having sex, she'd take charge. She’d ride that man so well. 
A sudden impact reminded her that she was still standing in the middle of the airport with her luggage, waiting for an early morning flight, on an empty stomach, simply fantasising about getting so gloriously fucked by the man with whom she’d just collided. . . what?
Y/n looked around and realised that she’d collided into someone who immediately grabbed her to save her from a fall. She also realised that this was a man. A very familiar man from the club. The one she’d been fantasising about. 
With the amount of dirty thoughts that kept popping up, Y/n was sure that an exorcist would fail to get rid of the lust within her. 
In better lighting, Y/n took in his tan skin, thick eyebrows, that huge body, curly black hair, and his powerful gaze.  
This was it.
This was the face. 
This was the face. 
The one that she wanted between her legs.
She’d spread nice and wide for this man. 
“Excuse me? Are you all right?” His voice. His voice! Oh, this deep voice. Perfect. 
The thought of him groaning her name made her stomach tighten. 
Oh gods, she hadn’t had sex in so long and now an insanely attractive man was simply helping her and she was ready to fuck him right there in the middle of the airport. 
“I’m fine.” Y/n responded. “Have we met before?” She definitely sounded desperate. Y/n was ready to be hit by a plane like the pigeons in those old cartoon shows who’d crash into the window of a plane and make a funny face.  
“Yes.” He did not smile but his features definitely softened. The intensity in his gaze turned into something beautiful. “I hope you didn’t have any trouble after that man.”
“No.” She responded, a little shy. “We were fine. We enjoyed the night. Thank you for interfering.” 
****
Azriel had tracked the flight in which she would be travelling for her exchange program and booked himself a ticket. That was seven days after he’d laid eyes on her for the first time. 
Among the many things that he’d discovered about his woman during those seven days, there was nothing that explained why she was standing in the middle of the airport, dazed as if she’d seen something mesmerising. 
Under the airport lighting, he saw her. He’d reached the airport long before she did and had been standing near the row of counters which were catering to the airline they would soon be flying in. 
Azriel saw this woman walk over to the queue. She yawned and looked around. She wore her earphones and looked and smiled like she was stopping herself from laughing. 
He’d noticed that she had long hair but under better lighting, she was her curly hair and how long it was. It seemed like she’d taken good care of her hair.
That was good. 
Hair was very important. And her hair was thick and long. 
He pictured her hair wrapped around his fist while she sucked his cock. He would be sitting and she would be on her knees. 
Another image appeared with her straddling him as he sucked her breast while she rode him. A masterpiece. 
Y/n laughed a little at something else on her phone. 
It was her turn and she submitted her documents, checked in that humongous suitcase that he’d be helping her with once they landed, and received her boarding pass. 
After a while of heading towards the food court, she stopped in the middle of the airport, eyes on some decoration that was not as fascinating as her attention on it made it out to be. 
What was she thinking?
Azriel didn’t like this. 
He hadn’t seen her for seven days and now, she was not even paying him any attention. 
So he decided to take matters into his own hands and pretended to look at his phone as he ‘accidentally’ collided onto her. 
She’d recognised him. 
His woman remembered him.
He was definitely satisfied. Or not. 
Azriel just realised that he hadn’t orchestrated the collision in a manner that would allow her breasts to come in contact with his arm or chest for a second. 
A missed opportunity. 
What a sad life.
“My name is Azriel.” He extended a hand. She took it and shook his hand. Soon, it’d be his cock. Those nails would dig into his arms and back when he fucked her. Patience.  
Azriel was dressed in all black. High neck, trousers, and a blazer he held on his arm which was strategically placed in front of him so as to conceal the crotch area just in case he was aroused. He was. 
“I’m Y/n.” And then she covered her mouth as a yawn escaped her. “I’m sorry. Early morning flights are always tiring.” 
Baby curls were right beneath her ears and she gave him a sleepy smile. And for the first time, he understood how influential Y/n was. Because if he were to see that face first thing in the morning, he’d never leave his bed.
The morning sex would be so glorious. He could wake her up by eating that pussy. Her legs would be trembling on his shoulders while he feasted on her. 
“I understand.” He replied. “A good breakfast helps.”
“Haven’t had any.” She lifted a hand and waved it once. Of course, he knew she hadn’t had breakfast. His men who’d watched her apartment from the one across the street had reported no activity in her kitchen. 
“Do you have some time before boarding? We could have breakfast together.” Okay, now he was just desperate. This was embarrassing. But he wanted to spend time with her. 
“Boarding starts at five twenty. We have. .” She looked at her watch. “Lots of time. Where do you want to eat?” She looked up at him, those eyes eager. 
Azriel looked around. The washrooms came into his view. Since the cleaning staff were not here this early, he easily had fifteen to twenty minutes to eat her. The fire exit was another option. There were a few blindspots there. Or maybe underneath the escalator? 
“That place has some good coffee and spaghetti.” 
Coffee? Spaghetti? Azriel blinked at her and then looked at the places Y/n was pointing at. 
Oh. 
Oh. 
 She was talking about food. 
All right. 
Food. 
“Sure.” He looked at her. She looked a little happier at his agreement. “Shall we?” 
Y/n eagerly nodded and they headed over to that food outlet. 
A nice breakfast included some coffee Azriel’s soul needed, spaghetti, and a very happy albeit sleepy Y/n telling him about her masters program. Details he’d already known but was pleased to hear from her. He would hear more of her voice and understand more about her feelings regarding what was happening in her life. 
“What about you? You don’t look like a student.”
“Correct. I work at Umbra.” He didn’t add that he was the chairman and the controlling shareholder but that was fine. “I’m on a business trip.”
“Oh.” Her mood deflated. 
“What happened?” Umbra was a big name. Wasn’t working there something to show that he was financially secure and didn’t have any debts thereby bringing him closer to the future of being her husband? Wasn’t that enough to convince her that he had enough money so that she wouldn’t have to worry? 
He’d known enough about how Y/n wanted a library of her own in her own home. Sure, the penthouse in the city was not purchased with her in mind but he’d already cleared out a room to be used as a library. 
And the flat he’d purchased in the city they’d be flying to also had a room ready to be her library. He’d give her his card so that she could decorate it to her heart’s content. 
“Nothing.” She looked up at him wide eyed. 
“It’s not nothing.”  He pressed gentler than he’d ever been.
“Well, I really don’t know what career I want to move ahead in.” 
Oh. That was a genuine concern. Of course, he had the money in case Y/n never wanted to work. Or if she wanted to take a break before she started working. 
So they talked. They talked about her field which he had learned as much as he could in seven days and had a discussion that lifted her spirits. But Azriel knew it wouldn't take long before she fretted over it again. 
At least Y/n didn’t have to worry about being alone in that huge pit of despair over careers and futures. He’d be there to support her in any way she needed. 
“I’ll be off to the washroom, hm? Give me a few minutes.” Y/n stood up and walked away with her phone. The rest of her luggage was still at the table with Azriel. 
How nice it was to be trusted with her luggage. All after meeting her for the second time and conversing with her properly only once. 
He frowned. Was Y/n always this easily trusting? This could be dangerous. He should assign someone to follow her so that even if she trusts someone else like this, she wouldn’t be robbed. 
Azriel, having resolved that this was the only woman he’d ever marry and have any kids with, smiled faintly when she returned from the washroom. And the two of them headed over to the boarding gates.
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harryspurpleloofah · 1 month ago
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Elevator
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(Picture is from my policeman premiere from hshq.in)
Summary: Harry’s staying at a hotel and he meets a woman who’s there for a gala in the reception. They get stuck in an elevator together and things escalate
Warnings: swearing, fingering, p in v sex, no condom but the reader specifies she’s on birth control, smut
The sound of her friends’ laughter echoed faintly behind her as she stepped into the hotel elevator. The soft click of her heels against the polished floor was the only sound in the otherwise silent space. The party had been a whirlwind—champagne, music, and a lot of noise—and now, the quiet of the hotel felt like a welcome reprieve.
She hit the button for the eleventh floor and leaned back against the mirrored wall, adjusting the strap of her shimmering dress. The elevator doors began to close, but just before they could seal shut, a deep voice called out, “Hold it!”
She quickly presses the open button to let the man in. He was tall, lean but broad-shouldered, his shirt slightly unbuttoned, revealing just a hint of his collarbone. His messy hair fell over green eyes, and there was something effortless about the way he carried himself like he hadn’t been in a hurry at all.
“Thanks,” he said, stepping inside, his voice low and smooth. He flashed her a quick smile, one dimple deepening.
“No problem.” She replied, stepping back a bit from the panel so he could pick which floor he was heading to.
He reached over, letting her inhale his Tom Ford fragrance which she recognised from a colleague who worked with her. He pressed the button for the 7th floor and smiled at her again.
“Long night?” he asked, glancing at her reflection in the mirrored wall.
“You could say that,” she replied, catching his gaze in the reflection. “How about you?”
“Just got here,” he said, leaning casually against the side of the elevator. “Checking in for the weekend.”
“Are you on holiday here or..?”
“No more like a business trip kinda thing. I’m Harry by the way.”
“Y/n.”
Before either of them could say more, the elevator jolted throwing both of them off balance. Harry reached out steadying himself against the wall, while she grabbed the railing. The elevator came to an abrupt halt, the lights flickering once before switching to a dim emergency glow.
“For fucks sake you have to be joking.” She muttered under her breath. The floor indicator was stuck on five and none of the buttons responded to her touch.
Harry straightened, furrowing his brows. “That’s… not supposed to happen, is it?”
“No,” she replied, pressing the emergency button. A tiny voice crackled over the speaker. “Please remain calm. The elevator is experiencing technical difficulties. A technician has been dispatched.”
Harry glanced at her. “Well, that’s reassuring.”
She sighs loudly after ten minutes. “What is this?”.
Harry chuckles, “this is not ideal is it now?”
“Far from.”
“There’s worse people to be stuck in an elevator with aren’t there?”
She smiles slightly, “I have no problem with you. I’m just really tired. And my feet are killing me.”
Harry’s gaze flickered down to her heels and he made an empathetic face, “Jesus those look like they’d hurt in minutes let alone the entire night.”
“Exactly. But they look nice in the moment so it’s kinda worth it.”
They both went quiet for a second when Harry saw her head looking around the elevator, “looking for a way out?” He questioned.
“No I’m looking for a camera.”
“Why what are you planning on doing?” He teases. She chuckles.
“Nothing like what you’re thinking. I just wanted to know if we’d die in here alone or maybe they’d find us.”
“The lady on the button said they’ll be here in a bit don’t worry.”
“She said that twenty minutes ago.”
“So they should be coming any minute now.”
As if on cue the lights flickered and the elevator jolted again. “What the fuck?” She exclaimed. Harry sighed as he shrugged off his blazer.
“It’s getting awfully warm in here.”
“What if we suffocate?” She asks in panic.
Harry looks like he’s considering it for a second before shaking his head, “no elevators aren’t sealed. We won’t suffocate.”
She calms down a bit, “but we might starve.” He points out.
“You’re not helping!”
He raises his hands in surrender while laughing, “sorry sorry. I couldn’t resist. Don’t worry we’re gonna be fine.”
She sighs and sinks down in the corner, holding her knees to her chest. Harry looks over, “sweetheart if it makes you feel better I’d be trying to get us out right now but my engineering skills are non existent.” He says.
She smiles slightly at his attempt of a joke as he sits down next to her. “You ok?” He asks gently.
“I’m fine. I just got a bit panicked sorry.”
“Don’t worry about it love. It’s normal this isn’t a regular situation.”
They wait for another five minutes and nobody’s still there.
“I have to admit,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “this is starting to feel like one of those scenes in your romance novels.”
Her breath catches, and she couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. “What makes you think I read romance novels?”
He gestured to the book peeking out of her bag, his smile teasing. “Just a hunch.”
She chuckles, “okay I enjoy one from time to time. They’re not as bad as some people say yknow.”
“Yeah. But there are some real gems..that are honestly painful to read”
She laughs and nods, completely agreeing. She looked back at him. He had the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen. Fuck it he was the prettiest guy she’d ever seen. His curls fell around his face like he was strategically painted to look that way. His lips were a shade of pink that she couldn’t believe was natural. She realised she was staring and looked back.
“I suppose this wasn’t how I was planning on ending my night but I don’t mind entirely,” he smiled, nudging her shoulder slightly.
“Me too. You’re right there are worse people I could be stuck with right now,” she continued.
“Much worse.”
Another ten minutes pass and they’re both just waiting it out now. “If we were to pry the door open..”
“Nah. Wouldn’t work. We’d just end up getting stuck because the elevator might start moving while you’re trying to get out.”
He sighs and jabs his ringed finger into the emergency button again to which they hear the same voice reassuring them it won’t be too long now. He sits back down.
“I like your rings.” She said quietly, what she meant was that she’d take all five fingers if she could. She didn’t know if it was the elevator air or if she was just going a bit crazy but her attraction to him was just growing. And the fact that there was no visible camera in the elevator wasn’t helping things.
As if Harry was thinking the same thing, he pointed out, “we sure there’s no camera?”
“I don’t know but I can’t see one.”
He shifted a bit, looking straight ahead instead of at her now. “You dating anyone?” He casually asked.
“Not at the moment no.”
“Oh.”
“Well there was a guy.”
“And?”
She sighs, “his name is Josh, I dated him for a bit but he was just always looking at other girls and..comparing me so it was bad for me..”
“God what a loser.”
“Yeah…” She laughs. “Completely unrelated but he wasn’t very good at sex,”
“Well…you could still have a good personality.”
“Yeah but he didn’t so he was lacking in everything.”
After a bit more gossiping about some of the ickiest men on earth who had somehow just all managed to squeeze into her love life, Harry laughed.
“Ok you’ve told me the worst, have you ever actually had good sex?”
“Honestly? I haven’t. All my time alone has been better than any time with someone else. It’s like men who are good at sex barely even exist anymore.”
The elevator jolts again. Harry sighs, “you ok?”
“I’m good don’t worry.”
Harry starts looking at her again. She’s so pretty and the bad experiences with sex are just turning him on even more. Just making him feel like he could give her so much more than anything she’s ever had. He tries to distract himself as much as he can but it’s just not working. His trousers start becoming tighter and tighter. It’s getting noticeable.
She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t drenched in her own thong as well. She was equally as turned on as him if not more, it just wasn’t as visible. She looked in the mirror and realised her lip gloss had come off again. She sighed and reached into her purse to get the tube.
As she put it on she could feel his warm green eyes on her. It made her want to absolutely melt but now she was trying to get a reaction out of him. Did she want it? A hookup? In an elevator, with the risk of being caught in the middle of it by a maintenance team? Fuck yes.
But she needed to make sure Harry was in too. As she spread the liquid over her lips her gaze flicked over to try to gauge his reaction. He was looking at her with interest, his blazer resting around his crotch area. Was he trying to hide an erection?
He wasn’t giving her any distinct signs and he seemed really nice, she didn’t want to ruin what she’d already made with him by being weird and asking him, a total stranger for a hookup in an elevator that was stuck on the fifth floor.
She froze when his ringed fingers brushed his arm, not closely enough to be sexual but not far enough to be platonic. “You’re gorgeous. You know that?” His voice gently says.
“Thanks..”
“Do you want this?” He asked
“I-I think I do yes.”
“I don’t want I think love, I want I know. Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’m sure.”
He licks over his lips before moving over her to capture her newly coated lips in a kiss. It was soft, both their lips slowly falling in love with each other. His tongue came in later, nudging a gap in her mouth to enter and when it did it was like it would never leave, exploring her mouth with so much confidence like he owned it already she just didn’t know.
He lifted her up and pinned her against the mirror before turning her around, making her face herself, “look at how pretty you look for me baby. I’ve had to sit here and just watch you and not do anything about it for the last hour.”
He kisses her neck gently, savoring each bit of her skin like he has to ration it, sucking gently on bits then soothing them with his tongue just as quickly before she’s in any real pain. He starts sliding off his rings, throwing them on the floor to land on top of his discarded blazer, “don’t want these to hurt you pet.”
He unzips her dress and helps her get it off. He takes her thong, sliding it down her legs and checks if she’s wet enough, which she is, soaking. “You don’t need lube baby yeah?”
“Yeah-yeah I’m fine,” she replies breathlessly.
He inserts a finger, she lets out a moan. He adds another and begins to thrust them both in and out stretching her out for himself, “I’m quite big baby will you be able to take me?”
“Y-yeah.”
“Sure?”
“Sure.”
“Of course you will. Good girl.”
She moans again, gripping onto the hand railing with on hand and Harry’s arm with the other to balance herself because her legs are a lost cause now, completely turned to jelly. He unclips her hair and lets it fall down, “beautiful,” he mutters, putting it to once side and going back down on her neck as his fingers worked her.
“That’s it baby come on my fingers f’me.”
She doesn’t need to be told twice, letting go instantly with a sigh of relief as she feels like climax taking over her body. “Now tell me what you need honey?” He urges.
“You-your cock please.”
“Again?”
“Your cock Harry.”
“I’ll see what I can do. Hold still for me ok?”
She obliges and looks up at herself in the mirror while she waits, all her efforts to get dolled up tonight down the drain, her mascara is messy, her gloss smeared, her hair not in the updo anymore, one of her earrings missing, she looked completely ruined.
He teases her with just the tip, “love I’m asking you again,” his tone is gentle, like it was before when he was talking to her normally “are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Are you on birth control? I don’t have a condom.”
“Yes! Harry fuck please yes.”
He can’t do it anymore either, he pushes in completely earning a deep moan from her, she feels like she’s being split in half on his cock and he’s gently raising her chin everytime it falls for her to get eyefuls of the pleasure on her face as he pounded into her from behind.
“Oh god baby you’re so tight..”
She groans, her hand going back to pull him closer by the neck to which he obeys, finding her lips in a loving reassuring kiss, praising her for being able to take his cock so well.
His thrusting becomes faster but less deep as he also chases his high, he waits for her though, making sure she’s completely satisfied before worrying about himself.
“I’m so close Harry,” she reassured him, egging him on to go a bit deeper to carry her there. She comes hard with a plethora of guttural moans that push him over the edge too, shooting a hot load in her. She feels so..full. Even after he pulls out she’s just in that mania of orgasm.
He smiles at her while still breathing heavily, zipping himself back up, still supporting her around the waist making sure she won’t fall. He crouches over to get a pack of tissues from her bag which he uses to clean her up and then another to clear her gloss and mascara. Most of her makeup came off but he doesn’t mind. She’s just as gorgeous if not more.
He scans the elevator floor for her missing earring and wipes it down before giving it to her and watching as she slips it in the hole in her earlobe. Then he helps her put her dress back on and gives her some time to catch her breath.
When she’s conscious enough to know what’s happening, he’s crouched over her bag, writing something on her notepad, the maintenance team standing by the open door gesturing them to come out.
She gets outside and the warm light of the lobby hits her, a stark contrast to the cold one in the elevator. She’s about to look around for Harry but he’s standing right next to her. “Do you wanna come back to my hotel?” He gently asks.
She smiles, “thanks but my house isn’t far, I’d love to keep in touch though.”
He grins and hands her the slip of paper, with his number on it. “Whenever you want Angel. Just give me a ring.”
He leans in a bit closer, “honestly disappointed I didn’t even properly take off my shirt for you love. We’ll do that all next time kay?”
He winks at her and starts walking back up to the stairs, deliberately avoiding the elevator this time. What a man. She looked down at the number. She knew this was gonna be on speed dial from now on.
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mscherub · 27 days ago
Text
Courting with Jade(Jade Leech x Reader)
Gender neutral reader, referred to as Prefect or Y/N ✦
Warnings!:
swearing as usual, just in my nature
Jade being…creepy. We like him for that tho ig…
Uneducated reader on merfolk mating rituals
Word count: approximately 2.63k
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Exactly how long has it been since jade has been acting weird? Well…weirder than usual. He was a little more out of it, that being the nicest way to explain his actions. This is Jade we’re talking about, Jade, the man who was always pristine in looks and words, well mannered, knew proper etiquette while also being absolutely creepy nice…but the way he was acting now was different, going as far as calling it absurd, even!
Jade was never like this, he had never smiled so wide when you accidentally brushed your hand against his, and you have never ever seen that guy blush before, that is until you yawned while facing him after so graciously helping clean and close the lounge (which you only did for the money). It’s confusing, baffling, bewildering, yea, you get it. What happened to the mushroom obsessed eel boy? Maybe he ate one too many mushrooms and that’s why he’s acting like this. But, who knows why? Well, you want to. Jade, no matter how cynical he appeared to be, no matter how many threats he made that you didn’t quite know were empty or not, you liked him, and all this bullshit that he’s pulling is freaking you out way more than his normal personality!
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Grim and you were in a tight situation, as usual. Money was running low, food stock was running low (more so Grim’s tuna), and the recent check from Crowley never managed to disappoint. How many thaumarks did you get, you ask? A whopping $650…again? Shit. It seemed his checks kept dwindling more and more by the month, which evidently caused you to have to score a job at the lounge, which Azul happily took your offer up on. Definitely wasn't just using you because he knew most of the student body liked you, pshhhh...
Azul was always there to lend you a helping hand when you needed it, although you usually never took his hand, physically and metaphorically speaking, but you had to these past few months, all because your little furbaby needs his food or he might just burn down Ramshackle, and you can definitely not afford that catastrophe right now. While working there, Jade grew a little closer to you but never ceased to be a pain in the ass, same with his brother, runs in the family you suppose. You look at the time and realize you have to get going.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Hours tick by, the lounge now closed for the night after a particularly busy day, and you just stand wiping the same spot on the table over and over again, zoning out as drowsiness overcomes you in a flash. How long had you been working? Let’s see, your shift started at around 2:00 p.m. which is when classes are usually over and– HOLY SHIT! As realization dawns on you as you look at the clock, you see It’s 1:30 in the morning.
You pause and you take a breath in, looking down at the table which you had been absentmindedly cleaning more than it needed to be. You pick up the rag and you throw it on the cart. Jade and Floyd looked as graceful as ever as they mopped the floor and wiped off the seats, their earrings jingling in sync it seemed. You sit down at a booth and take off your lounge uniform blazer and slip your gloves off…
“Stupid things…fuck my life, fuck this.” you murmur under your breath. You lean back and close your eyes. How did they do this? Did they do this every night? You knew Azul could be cruel, but damn…working them that long every day? You wouldn’t survive that, that’s all you know.
“Done already? Azul doesn’t like slackers, which I’m sure you know.” Jade smirks. You snap your eyes open, jumping a bit. His footsteps were always eerily silent, always catching anyone least expecting him to pop up off guard. You shake your head and sit up again, clearing your throat.
“Uh, yea. I’m done. Sorry.” you huff out, grabbing your gloves off the table. You look up at him, his smile never faltering.
“Ah, amazing job. Shall I walk you back to Ramshackle then?” He tilts his head. You narrow your eyes at him. That’s different. But you nod and grab your blazer, standing up.
Jade takes it right from your hands, holding it open so you can slip your arms in.
“I can do it myself” You sigh. You wait for him to do something, but he shakes the blazer and smirks even wider. What is up with him?
"I insist." He grins. You roll your eyes, and you slip your arms through the sleeves. Jade then gingerly slips his hand to the small of your back, rambling on about whatever it was that he has on his mind as he leads you out of the lounge. You’re way too tired to comprehend anything he says or even notice the hand placement, all you know is that your bed is calling your name.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
You slump down on the couch in Ramshackle, kicking off your shoes and running a hand down your face, letting out a small yawn, tears pricking the corner of your eyes.
Jade chuckles and watches from the doorway with evident amusement at your appearance and actions. “Difficult day I presume?” he chuckles. You are definitely not in the mood for his antics today.
“You were there the whole time, so yea, obviously. Goodnight, Jade.” you grumble and make a swatting motion with your hand towards him. He simply grins wider.
“Ah, humans are so different. In the deep, staying up long hours is essential to make sure you’re always safe, never let your guard down.” He muses. You close your eyes and lean your head back against the couch.
“Ok, well we aren’t in the deep and I honestly don’t care. Goodnight, Jade.” you say more sternly, slightly harsher than you had intended, but if he would leave you alone so you could sleep, that would be the best thing ever at this rate.
“Ah, ah. How harsh, Y/N, I was simply stating how we are superior as a species, all fun in games.” He chuckles again. “So angry it seems. You should join me for a hike one of these days, it helps to clear the mind, especially after such stressful situations.” he remarks.
“Yea, yea, sure, whatever.” You drawl on as you find your eyelids getting heavier and heavier.
“Would this weekend work then for a hike?”
“Sure. whatever. Yep. good, or whatever. Bye.” your words stumble out of your mouth as you slump down onto the couch more and sleep finally takes over, sending you into a well-deserved rest.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Well…that happened, you guess?
Over the next few days, you forget about what you said in your tired state, more focused and confused on the little trinkets you find in the pocket of your work uniform whenever you arrive back at Ramshackle late at night, each one ranging from something shiny, like a pearl, or something like a scale from who knows who. You don’t know who these “gifts” are from, and it’s ominous in a way…but you don’t have time to question it, and you just throw it in a small box, just keeping the thought of money in your mind to keep the motivation of making bank to continue to have a place to live. Crowley, when you see him, it’s on sight, instantly.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The weekend comes quick, and you honestly forgot about the whole “Deal” you made with Jade, just happily awaiting your check from Azul.
You practically skip your way to the lounge, the only word on your mind being “money.” You hum a tune quietly as you push your way past people waiting in line to get a table and head straight to the VIP lounge.
“Azulllll, I believe you owe me something!” You smile as you push open the door. In the room is the octotrio themselves, Azul scribbling on paper, Floyd looking bored out of his mind, and Jade dressed in– dressed in hiking gear, which jogs a memory in your mind. Your “agreement” to go on a hike with him, which seemed innocent, but knowing him, he was hiding something.
“Shrimpy!” Floyd perks up and instantly stands up, walking over to you and giggling happily. He picks you up and hugs you tight. You let out a short puff of air as most of it is squeezed out of you. Azul clicks his tongue and grumbles under his breath, going to fish through his drawer as you’re being suffocated to death. Jade gets up as well, smiling calmly at the scene before him. Floyd sets you down, bored already, and walks away, although he seems a bit wearier of Jade all of a sudden, which is quite unusual.
Azul then comes over as well and hands you an envelope with what you hope is a thick stack of money inside.
“Thank you.” You smile triumphantly. Jade, finally having enough of being quiet, clears his throat, grabbing your attention.
“Prefect, I thought you would have come prepared with proper attire, but it seems I have been mistaken.” he grins. You feel your stomach sink and you look away from him. You sigh and look down at your shoes. To be fair, you didn’t exactly have proper gear to begin with anyways, but you also weren't trying to go on this little trip in the first place.
“Fear not, the Mountain Lover Club is always prepared for newcomers, which means luckily for you, we have just the correct items.” Why was he using “we?” Only Jade was in the club, ah…whatever, the bigger problem here is that not only will you be hiking, but you will also be hiking alone, with Jade.
You purse your lips and nod. Azul sighs, gaining both yours and Jade's attention. “Discuss this somewhere else, I am a very busy man.” he huffs as he glances over at the door. Jade instantly takes the hint and walks out towards the door, looking over his shoulder to make sure you follow him.
Uh oh.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
After getting suited up and getting permission to head off campus, rightfully excused by Jade since he was president of his club, you and Jade hiked up a mountain, a pretty steep one at that.
“Oh. Look, these mushrooms are special to this mountain due to its higher level of humidity. See how it grows along the trees and logs? Certainly fascinating.” He thrums out as he continues to observe the blue, glowing mushrooms. Meanwhile, you were leaning against a tree, heaving in and out as you finally were able to take a break to catch your breath after climbing, and the worst part of it all? You “were not to the desired destination yet,” quote Jade.
You glare over at him, but your gaze softens as you see him so interested in the mushrooms, his facial features softer and lacking that formal facade he’s so perfectly crafted and wore around everyone at NRC. You push yourself off of the tree and kneel down next to him, reaching out a hand to touch the blue thing, but he stops you.
“They are quite deadly. Toxic, in fact. It's better not to touch them, especially to prevent any incidents where you may inhale any spores released.” He schools you, looking down at you with a smile. You pull your hand away and keep it glued to your side, ok, no touching any blue glowing mushrooms, got it, though that should have already been common sense. An awkwardly pleasant silence falls between the two of you. Jade takes one last look before standing up again, holding a hand out to you. You take it and you both continue to hike up again.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
“Jade? I have something that’s been bugging me.” You sigh out, the thought finally being too much to ignore.
“Give me a name and you’ll never have to deal with them again.” He answers firmly. You pause and open your mouth, then close it again, a confused look on your face.
“That’s…not what I meant.” You murmur out. Jade simply smiles and chuckles.
“My misunderstanding, what seems to be the trouble then?” he inquiries. You recall how you kept finding the little items in your coat pockets after work, thinking it had to have been him since he walked you back to ramshackle after working at the lounge.
“The little things in my pockets–”
“Those were from me. Why has it been bugging you, hmmm?” he hums as he ducks under a branch, continuing to move, his long legs helping him easily step over long roots sticking up from the ground. You pause your movements and stick your hands in your pockets, shrugging.
“Dunno, not like you.” you whisper out. He stops and turns to look back at you, quirking an eyebrow as he stares at you. But the look quickly goes away as quick as it came, and he smirks.
“You’ll find out soon. Follow along.” He turns back around and heads up the path again.
“Hey! No, Jade, I wanna know, stop being all secretive–
Jade pushes back a tree branch and reveals an open spot at the top of the mountain which overlooks the entire mountain range. The high peaks in the distance are spotted with snow, and the pine trees in mass quantities spread across the range, fog blanketing the dips and valleys. You stop in your rambling and go quiet as you slowly walk up next to him, your mouth agape at the sight.
“I…Woah.” Is all you can manage to stutter out.
“Truly a most ethereal sight. Things like this don’t exist under the sea, another thing that makes both worlds so different from one another, which evidently brings me to another drastically different aspect of the cultures.” he smiles and looks down at you, watching as the sun hits your features just right, casting you in a sort of golden glow. You turn your head up at him and a look of bewilderment flashes across it.
“I thought you to be smarter, Prefect. But one can only hold another in such high regards for little time.” he sighs, a pout on his face, though as well as you knew him, you knew it was just a ploy. Your eyes widen in surprise.
“I certainly expected you to catch onto my advances. You see, Y/N, I was courting you. Had I been too subtle?” his pout deepens. You’re speechless. You look into his eyes, and damn! That fucking pout, as fake as the meaning behind it was, he was incredibly cute at the moment, and the sun giving him an incandescent look didnt help either. You clear your throat and try to mutter something, anything out, but nothing comes. You glance away, flustered.
So that’s what all this weird behavior has been coming from him? He’s been trying to court you. It seemed unbelievable, but when you look back at him, he’s smiling his well-worn sinister smile, though it seems more genuine.
“You’re blushing, Prefect.” he snickers. “At a loss for words?”
Who knows what comes over you, maybe the past confusing moments finally making sense and you wanting to get revenge on him, but you pull him down by the collar of his jacket and you place a kiss on his cheek.
“Bastard.” You grumble as you pull away. Now it’s his turn to be left speechless, a faint tint of pink to his cheeks, but it quickly fades as he smiles again. His gaze softens again
“Glad you feel the same, Y/N…it’s truly a relief.”
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Hope you enjoyed my lovelies! I’ll be posting more soon, I promise, lol. I’m just trying to get all my works over to here, but two other ones I have not posted are on my Ao3 —> https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms_cherub
I was editing this on the bus so mb if I missed any spelling mistakes or anything like that! That’s it though <3
Master list
Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!
Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)
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smuttykdrama · 1 year ago
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[Suhyeok x Bully!Hambie!Gwinam's Sister!Reader / All Of Us Are Dead]
Warnings: NONCON (Well, sort of? Suhyeok's saying no but he actually wants it?), Female Reader, Sub!Suhyeok, Dom!Reader, Smut, Degrading.
(A/N): So i just finished AOUAD and hOLY FUCK i need more Suhyeok smut. I'm a massive fucking domme so had make this idea into a fanfic!! I might make a longer one tbh, like a book on wattpad or something haha. Anyways, filth under the cut!
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"What are you smirking at, you brat, huh? Answer me.“
You moved like a predator, dangerous and calculating, and Suhyeok panted pathetically before you even touched him. You'd roughed him up a little so he was too exhausted to dare to escape your clutches.
“Nothing! None of your business, Yoon (Y/N)."
As defiant and brave as ever, Suhyeok wasn’t going to give himself up without a fight, even if he didn’t want to win that fight anyways. You'd found him alone in a classroom full of zombies, fighting for his life. Luckily, you were there to help him out of that sticky situation...and into another one. You and your psycho brother, Yoon Gwinam, had both turned into a Hambie. Conveniently, Gwinam told you that Suhyeok was yours, as long as he have Cheongsan to torment. Nightmare siblings, everyone called you.
"Lee Suhyeok. I saved you. How are you going to repay me, huh?"
You picked him up from the floor like he weighed nothing, ripping his blazer and shirt apart almost instantly, shocking him. A part of Suhyeok felt violated, but another part excited him. He'd hanged with the school bullies before, hence he knew you, and secretly liked you and your fierce attitude.
"Come on, thats enough, (Y/N). Let me go. I have to get back to the others."
Your eyes widened in anger.
"Say that again. I dare you. Do you know what fucking bullshit i had to go through to finally capture you?!"
Suhyeok accidentally moaned as you cornered him and tangled a hand in your hair, tugging on it. You basically hissed, nails leaving tracks across the tanned, unblemished skin of his chest. He gasped, attempting to push you away as you sucked on his neck harshly, making sure not to bite him...yet.
“Wha- (Y/N)..stop - nnghh..."
Suhyeok trailed off, groaning, his adams apple bobbing up and down as you traced his neck. It made you thirsty for more; to claim him as yours, to hurt him more. There was nothing more erotic than a strong fighter submitting to you completely, unable to defend himself from your advances. The truth is, ever since Suhyeok stopped talking to you, your brother and the other bullies, day by day you grew more frustrated with him. And his stupid bravery. The fact that he's not yours. That hes so perfect and good and distancing himself from you. From evil.
"Please, (Y/N). I have to help our classmates -"
Oh come on. Even when he was being violated like this, Suhyeok was thinking of others. At this point he knows he’s going to be punished for even believing that you were a nice person. Because you were a possessive freak. A weirdo. Someone who’s entire existence is frowned upon. If only he knew what it was like to be infatuated with someone until you’d either kill a person, or them.
SLAP.
“Don’t you get it? You’re mine. Stay out of everyone’s sight. Don’t touch them, talk to them, look at them, or even breathe in their direction. I'll kill you if you go back."
Before Suhyeok could say anything else, he choked on his next words as you peeled your panties off and picked him up, thrusting straight onto him, his cock completely filling you up. In that moment, he felt himself crumble in front of you. In this very moment, all Suhyeok wanted was to feel alive again. To forget about the damn zombies. You felt the sweet sting of him stretching you open, filling you to the brim and you know you’d never feel this with anyone else. No matter how shady and unethical and terrifying you were, Suhyeok knew you were not the kind of woman you find twice. 
“Are you fucking with me? You like this don’t you? You dirty little whore, Lee Suhyeok, enjoying being used by a filthy possessive girl like me. You want to be owned. Be thankful i haven't turned you already."
You weren’t taking your time, the way you’re fucking him into the wall—bucking your hips into his at a frantic pace and making him whine—it wasn’t for pleasure. No, he could tell by the way you’re keeping him close, not trying to change your angle to get deeper, that you wanted to possess him completely.
"Harder..."
He finally whispered, his eyes averting from your gaze as you fucked him into oblivion. The slapping of flesh was loud, and so was the sound of Suhyeok's ever so needy moaning. And your heavenly whimpers.
"(Y/N), fuck, im yours. I'm yours, so own me."
That's what you liked to hear.
[END]
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miguelsslvt · 1 year ago
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punk! miguel x innocent! reader
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word count: 879
TW: nsfw, smoking, hair-pulling, corruption, swearing, creampie.
request: @sukioyakio ★
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A/N: this isn't edited and is poorly made so i'm so sorry. also can i just say thank you so much for over 600 notes on my first drabble?? oh my gosh?? anyways, enjoy and welcome to the club! ^^
imagine punk! miguel being the 'bad rep' of the school. in the 3rd year of college, he took physics, chemistry and spanish language. he would smoke behind the science classrooms, refuse to wear clothes that he calls 'society norms' like a blazer or a button up, and instead wear a black leather jacket with pins like 'pink floyd', or 'anarchist' all around it. he would yell, slander and mock almost every teacher whenever he's in class (which is very rare).
most of the girls honestly adored him, apart from the odd popular girl or two finding him too 'annoying' or too 'muscly' for their liking. he didn't give two shits, he already knew his body count was probably higher then their grades.
but then there's you. sweet, innocent little y/n. where most college students spent their weekends partying, you spent it in your dorm room re-reading 'moby dick' for the 6th time. you took phsycology, english literature and spanish language. and if you were completely honest, the only reason you chose spanish language is because your boyfriend at the time (now ex) was spanish. god, did you regret picking it for him.
you noticed miguel, like every other person in the school would. but your first time was different. you were running late, extremely late for your first class of the day. damn you, alarm. that's when you noticed miguel, outside science block, groaning.
despite being late, you took a curious peek at what the man was groaning about.
'stupid fucking lighter..' he mumbled, trying to light his cigarette, but failing. you knew better then to interfere, to even speak to the most intimidating man in college. but, for some reason, you ended up giving him your lighter.
'thanks, you smoke? i can give you one for a trade.' miguel said, as you smiled so sweetly. you explained how you didn't smoke, or did anything like that, and that you only carried a lighter 'just in case of emergencies'.
that's when miguel's interest in you piqued. you were such a sweet, innocent girl, and that drove something in him. something that he didn't realise he wanted. he usually only went for girls with his taste and style, girls he'd meet at festivals or clubs and were either high as heck or sexy goths. but you, you were different.
soon enough, he realised you were only in his spanish language classes, and that you weren't the best at it. perfect. your weakness was miguel's strength.
that's how you ended up in this situation. bent over miguell's desk in his dorm, mumbling his name as hee proceeded to sbuse his way into your sweet cunt.
'you want to tutor me..? that would be so nice miguel!' you had said so excitedly, there was a spanish exam coming up and miguel so kindly offered to tutor you the friday night. and being so naive and quite desperate for the help, you happily accepted.
his room was filled with different posters and signs like his favourite bands, anarchistic posters, stickers saying things like 'fuck the government!'. his leather jacket was discarded somewhere on the messy floor, as his hands grasped your hips to push you even deeper onto his cock.
'm-miguel.. m-miguel please!' you whined, your mascara running down your face.
he just chuckled, as he pulled your hair lightly, moving you onto the bed as he laid you down on your back, as he started bullying into your pussy once again. he was so mean.
your light blue dress was somewhere on the floor, ripped to shreds. it was your favourite dress, but you had other things to think about at the moment.
'yeah.. you like that, cariño? you like being fucked like a slut? not used to being so used, are you?' miguel teased, as you just moaned in response. he hadn't realised that fucking a cute little angel could be this enticing. fuck, he could get used to this.
'i.. miguel! i-i've never-' 'shh.. i know, i know, a sweet girl like you hasn't ever been treated this way.. i'm sorry for being so rough, but i dunno.. the way you're tightening around me suggests you like the harshness..' he said, his hand wiping your mascara-smudged cheeks. your body was submitting to him in every way possible, and he felt like a starved predator being fed for the first time in years.
'i-is it normal to feel l-like this..?' you whimpered, eyes shut from the pleasure. 'yes.. yes my sweet girl it's very normal to feel like this.. let me give you all the pleasure you've missed out on.' miguel whispered in your ear, as he started thrusting faster and faster, pushing you over to the edge.
you let out a loud moan, your back arching as you came. the way you clenched onto him drove miguel over the edge too. his thrusts became erratic and sloppy, as he let out one more groan as he came deep inside you.
you were panting, your eyes still shut. he pulled out slowly, placing a sweet kiss on your temple. 'god you're so cute..' miguel whispered to you, as you just whimpered in response. he chuckled deeply.
god, he might just get addicted to such a good innocent little thing like you.
♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎
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seokgyuu · 6 months ago
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The Sweetest Thing - Teaser
All your life you’ve been your sisters’ punching bag. Never good enough. Never fully accepted. When your mother makes one of them choose you as her maid of honor you reluctantly agree. Semi-vacationing in Tuscany with your ‘beloved’ family, you meet two handsome strangers one night and let them do whatever they want with you. Too bad you didn’t ask for their names first.
Pairing: Heeseung x F!Reader x Sunghoon 
Genre: Strangers to ???, Porn with Plot
Warnings: CHEATING!!! reader is hooking up with her sisters’ fiancés, sisters are horrible and suck, mentions of past verbal abuse, reader is somewhat a pervert (she defo is), heeseung & sunghoon definitely are perverts, heeseung & sunghoon are mean, they have nothing good to say about their fiancés, alcohol consumption, adult content MDNI! smut warnings will be in actual fic
Word Count: 5.7k (so far)
Release Date: August 8th
Taglist: @skzenhalove, @haelahoops, @deobitifull, @shiningnono, @jakeswifez, @slut4hee @gyuhanniescarat , @branchrkive @doublebunv , @capri-cuntz, @jaehyuniewifeu, @whateverhoon, @c-oupsie you can be added by replying to this post or sending me an ask <3 there must be an age indicator in your blog since this is a nsfw fic! 
Something about the Italian sky seems different. Maybe it’s because you’re not close to a big city, but the stars shine brighter than you’ve ever seen them. It feels like a movie; the stars and moon so visible with no cloud in sight, the small street of Arezzo you’re currently sitting in - a small restaurant with a small menu but a nice older man that speaks decent English. A glass of wine standing on the small table beside you and the first bit of peace you’ve felt in days. 
It’s when you take your next sip of wine you see them. 
Two men straight out of a magazine walking towards one of the free tables next to yours and sitting down. There is nothing you can do but stare. Both of them have dark hair, one of them a bit shorter than the other. They are dressed elegantly, designer shoes and pants, blazers hanging over their chairs. Even if you wanted to - you could not possibly say which one was more attractive. 
What a nice way to end a horrible day, you think. Smiling, you finish your glass and immediately order the next, not entirely used to drinking so much, but not caring since you are miles away from home and no one here knows you anyway. The waiter nods and then proceeds to go over to the newcomers. The one with the slightly lighter hair and the mole on his nose orders in perfect Italian, with just enough of an accent for you to know they aren’t from here. Your choice of table appears to be perfect for watching them, listening to them converse in a language you understand. 
And it all stays innocent like this - they talk about their flight and about friends - until suddenly the conversation sways.
“I honestly- fuck, I can’t believe we’re actually doing this, you know?” The one with shorter hair says and his friend sighs, taking his wine glass and finishing it in one go. Impressive. There was at least half left in yours. 
“I don’t know what to tell you. We committed and now we’re fucked.”
“Just that we aren’t getting actually fucked.”
They look at each other before they laugh, shaking their heads. Meanwhile, your ears perk up. 
“Fuck, I really don’t know the last time she let me hit it, Hoon. I think I’m going crazy.”
“Yeah, same here. Like, yeah, we fucked once the day before her flight. But literally only missionary and she didn’t suck me off.”
“Again? Dude, is she ever even putting her mouth on it?” 
“Nope. Ever since we got engaged she’s like this fucking prude. Is yours like that too?”
“Yeah. I got her flowers and her favorite chocolates and she still wouldn’t even jack me off, like fuck, if it’s gonna be like this forever I can just go cut my dick off.”
Jesus. These two seem to be in very happy relationships. Makes you almost feel better to not be in one. Even if your mother would beg to differ. She’s been desperate for you to find a match for ages. For whatever reason, really, considering her two golden girls were about to get married to rich and handsome heirs. 
“Just one good blowjob, man, that’s all I want, really. I miss getting some good fucking head.”
The way short hair looks at mole - with so much understanding and pity, you can’t help but chuckle. Chuckle loud enough for them to take notice. 
Their gazes burn on your face before you even see them. But when you do your smile dies and instead makes room for horror. They heard you laugh at them. Even worse, they know you’ve been listening. Shit. 
Thankfully, you are three glasses of delicious white wine in and the fourth one is almost empty. Which means you aren’t the sweet little wallflower you’d usually be. Scary, how alcohol can change people.
“Oh, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have eavesdropped.” You apologize, placing your hand over your heart. 
“Agreed.” Short hair says, his eyebrow raised. Now, with both of their eyes on you, it seems like they are even more attractive. Perfect faces with pretty eyes and soft looking hair. Handsome men in unhappy relationships that fail to give them what they need. It’s almost comical how the switch in your head turns over, how the persona you normally never let anyone see until you’re in a secluded space comes out and gives you the courage to speak your next words.
“I just couldn’t believe my ears,” you let your finger glide over the rim of your glass, eyes on the two men with your tongue slipping out to lick over your bottom lip, “how anyone would be opposed to having sex with you.” 
Oh.
Sunghoon and Heeseung’s ears perk up just like yours did earlier. Eyes widen slightly as they understand the innuendo in your words. 
They think about the same thing - the last time they took a girl together. Probably during senior year in college. Back then, they used to do that regularly. Having almost the identical type in women. Instead of having to let her choose, she’d get them both. 
But it’s been years since then. They are in committed relationships now, about to get married. And still - neither of them can deny that you fall right into their usual prey, or well, the prey they’d chosen back in college before their parents had picked out their wives for them. 
It’s the way you look at them, the way your eyes say so much more than your words. It is also the way both of them feel like they are 22 again with nothing but getting their dick wet on their minds. One thing about Heeseung and Sunghoon - they always worked perfectly in a pair. Back in college and now, too. They can almost read each other’s minds at this point, only a short exchange of looks needed to know neither of them gave a single fuck about anything right now.
“Want to sit down with us?” Sunghoon asks and points at the free chair opposite them. You smile. 
“It’d be my pleasure.”
header credit @wongyuseokie <3
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luveline · 1 year ago
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Hiiii sugarplum. I would absolutely adore some stripper reader x Hotch maybe like some of him comforting her or just coming to visit like outside of the case and some fluff 🥰🥰
ty for requesting!! fem
You’re texting on the wall outside of work when a shadow cuts across the streetlight illuminating your lap. Your head flinches up, phone to your chest, but the man standing in front of you isn’t one you’ve ever been scared of. “Fuck, Aaron, you scared me,” you say with a nervous laugh. 
He smiles at you in his gentle, unassuming way. “Sorry. I took care to scuff my shoes as I walked.”
“Oh, you took care,” you say. Your smile is far less gentle than his; your cheeks apple, your words coloured with it. “I was in my own world.” 
“I thought we talked about you coming outside alone.”
“Did we?” you ask, the short wall you’re sitting on biting into your hands and thighs as you tip back to grin at him teasingly. “Gosh, I’m sorry, Mr. Hotchner, I can’t seem to remember any such talk.” 
“Mm.” He rolls his eyes. “You don’t remember that?” 
“Don’t recall, no.”
“So you also won’t remember the conversation we had about flowers.” 
Your first date, your only date, and your first bouquet. He’d given you flowers and read the embarrassment on your face immediately. You aren’t the kind of girl who gets flowers. 
What’s wrong? he’d asked. 
You’d held the flowers to your chest, something in you worried he’d take them away, though you’re almost positive he’s incapable of being cruel like that. Do I look stupid? 
Of course you don’t. 
There hadn’t been much else to say about the flowers, until after the evening had gone well, and he’d asked you for another date. High with the delight of knowing Spencer’s nice, handsome boss doesn’t just think you’re pretty, he likes you, you’d said Sure, if you bring me another lovely bouquet, we can go on as many dates as you like. 
Aaron pulls the bouquet from behind his back. Petals bounce off of his tie, pinks and whites and baby blues against his black blazer and pristine white shirt as he taps his chest. They’re beautiful, and far too many. 
“Are they really for me?” you ask. You’ve never seen such a big bouquet in your life. It’s a wonder they fit behind his back. 
The strangest thing about dating him has been his sudden propensity for moments of shyness. “That depends,” he says, the slightest hint of nerves in his otherwise dulcet tone, “are they nice enough?” 
“They’re the prettiest flowers I’ve ever seen.” You stand up and hold out your hands, pull them back to your chest, and then hold them back out again. You can’t not want them. 
He hands them off to you. 
It must be weird for him to meet you like this. He’s very high up the ladder of his career, and it doesn’t make much sense for him to fall for you. You’re younger, less educated, less prestigiously employed. You hadn’t understood what it was about you that pulled him in, but you can remember how clearly he told you he was interested in you. No shame. Not a hint of reluctance. He’s bringing you flowers outside of the stripclub, ignoring the fact that you’re in sweatpants and a tight corset-type bra, and he hasn’t looked at your body once. 
“I was just texting you,” you say, opening your phone to press send on the text waiting in the hot bar. 
Aaron’s phone immediately pings. 
He reads it quickly. It isn’t a long message. Hi, handsome. Want to pick me up tonight? 
If he’d said yes or no didn’t matter, because you’d just wanted to talk to him, and here he is. 
He finally ducks in. A half side step into your reach, his face angled down, he kisses you chastely on the lips and everything fades away. The neon pink at your feet, the buzzing streetlights and the passing cars, the steady thump of music from three different buildings, it all disappears under his warm hand. He kisses you, and he hugs you to his chest, careful not to crush your flowers. You could glow from the inside out. 
He’s still smiling as he pulls away. “Are you hungry?” he asks softly. 
“So hungry.” 
“We can get anything you want.” 
“Really? What if I want the same as last time?” 
It had been expensive and you’d felt vaguely underdressed. Aaron doesn’t baulk. “Anything you want… You may need to wear my jacket, though. I don’t think your current outfit adheres to their dress code.” 
You push the flowers just under his nose. “Funny.”
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madamechrissy · 6 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. (Fingering, phone sex, texting nudes, tension in this chap)
♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 10k
♡ ♡ 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? - Lawyer AU (If you wanna be tagged in updates let me know 💓)
Chapter 3- Masterlist
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Chapter 4
The next day, you’re dressed to kill, in a cute little black dress that hits just above your knees, a little houndstooth pattern blazer and some fancy heeled boots, hair put up in a bun. Maki is out there with you as you wait for Gojo, you had finally gotten a chance to fill her in, and Yuta is there too. They both have their mouths open when you come out and greet them.
“Damn, business woman here!” Yuta says, and you hug him, grinning. Then you turn to Maki.
“I’m lesbian now.” You snort in laughter, hugging her too.
“You took my girl!” Yuta pouts, then Maki gives him a head pat. Your heart aches a bit at how open they can be, while you…
What even were you and Gojo?
“Thanks, you two! I wanna leave a good impression. It’s such a serious case.” You nervously check your phone, it’s a little before eight AM.
“I still gotta see this to believe it. He was so young looking. Then again… Professor Geto is too and he’s so hot.”
“I’m getting really jealous over here.” Yuta is pouting again, you both hug him on either side. “Never mind now I have two hot girls.”
“See!” You kiss his cheek as does Maki, then you see it, that damn sleek expensive sports car.
“Fuck that’s nice.” Maki murmurs, then Gojo pulls up, windows down, grinning as he leans back in the seat, throwing a peace sign at the two of them.
“Hey there stranger.” He says to Maki with a wink, and you watch her blush, pink on her cheeks, Maki blushing? How? “And are you the boyfriend?”
“Yuta. Are you the hot professor?” Gojo throws his head back in laughter, and now it’s your turn to blush.
“One of them.” Maki says. Gojo’s mouth drops, hand to his chest.
“How dare you! I’m the prettiest professor there is.” You all snort in laughter as Gojo steps out now, coming around to open your door. Maki is squealing in your ear now.
“A gentleman huh?” She whispers, you arch a brow as you look at him, in that damn black suit, and you just can’t get over how good he looks, you notice his tie just a smidge crooked. It’s the only thing that isn’t perfect about him today, but it’s something you’ve noticed and now it’s endearing.
“Not a gentleman, trust me.” You whisper back, and Gojo turns from shaking Yuta’s hand to lean toward you two, hands in his pockets.
“Aw, talking about how hot I am?” He says with a wink, and you both roll your eyes. Maki pushes up her glasses.
“He’s kinda a dick huh?”
“I heard that you know!” Gojo very maturely sticks his tongue out at her, and she does it back, you just shake your head.
“See you all tomorrow!” You say then, and they both hug you, waving at Gojo and then running off to class. You’re left standing alone with him now, looking up at his lush white hair, looking extra soft and shiny. Your fingers itch to touch it.
He looks at you too then, up and down. “ Brat , you’re looking so damn good today. You’re giving me a run for my money.” He says with a smug smirk, his hand reaching out to take yours for a brief moment, before inclining his head for you to come sit in the car.
“Thank you, Gojo, I was trying to look professional. Here.” You stand a little closer, fixing his tie just a bit, and then there was so much… goddamn tension… as he just stands there, watching you with those azure eyes, lips parted just so.
“Thanks, Miss Brat.” He murmurs, and you manage a little half turn of your lips, acting like being near him didn’t tear you apart, didn’t make you overheat just touching his damn tie.
“Of course. Ready?” He grins, nodding, then he’s shutting the door and sliding in the seat next to you, as you prepare to drive you fiddle with your phone, so much left unsaid between you both, as vivid memories of him…
Getting you off better than any toy with two fingers?
Yeah.
“Should just nickname you thighs.” You turn to him in confusion, and he’s looking at you, squirming. You moan in annoyance.
“I can’t help them!”
“They’re also really nice. Making me a leg man over here.”
“Oh stop.” 
You giggle as his hand brushes your thigh for just a moment, hating how damn comfortable you felt with him. You take his hand off, but you hold it for just a minute, running your thumb down his knuckles, and you feel his hand tense in yours, as you study his long elegant fingers. Then you sigh and let it go reluctantly, putting it back on his gear shift.
“That was… nice.” He says curiously, and you ache to touch his hand again, but it wouldn’t stop there, would it?
But the way he says it, so vulnerable and soft?
Fuck.
“Your fingers are demonic, you know.” He snorts at that, and the mood is lightened, but you may or may not have brushed his hand a few more times as you all drive, every time he puts a hand back, like some little game, until he snatches your hand up and kisses it.
You bite back the little whine in your throat of pleasure of just how good his lips feel brushing against you, just staring at him with your lips parted, with glazed over eyes, his perfect jawline and his profile just kill you. The cut of his hair in the back? Kills you. Full lips that perk up in the corners? Kill you.
“You really need that picture, brat. Go ahead, take one I don’t mind.” He shoots you a wink, and you flush. “Pink is so pretty on you!”
“Gojo!”
“Especially your pink-”
“Gojo!” He snorts laughing, and that sweet little moment is gone, but it’s good, you can breathe now, as you cross your arms and act affronted. But, really you’re not at all. You peek back over after it calms down and you both are just listening to music and driving, and again, it’s comfortable. So comfortable.
“It’s your time to shine today, well, in the background but those phone records did come in, and they came in clutch.” You grin, wide, and he smirks at it. “You’re getting off to law, such a nerd.”
“Says you!”
***
You and Gojo sit next to each other in court again, and the anticipation lights the room up, the tense prosecution, and goofy, happy Gojo sit in sharp contrast with each other. Gojo is kicked back, relaxed as the prosecution questions the next witness, who is growing ever nervous, and Gojo is just chewing on candy and smirking.
“Enjoy the show, baby girl.” Gojo murmurs, you just admire him, tilting your head and smiling at him.
The phone records had come in, and now Gojo is strutting over to the stand, handing them to the judge with a smirk. “Heya Judge, good morning.” He shoots her a grin, and the stern judge laughs at that a bit, before growing serious.
“Good morning Mr. Gojo.”
“If it pleases the court, or should I say, the lovely Judge .” Gojo’s fan girls are swooning, you roll your eyes. “We’d like to submit these records into evidence, and question the previous witness again regarding their credibility and any potential tampering of evidence.”
The judge looks over the records, her eyes scanning them intensely before she nods, and calls the witness back in from yesterday, and you can see the prosecution’s faces drop when she agrees. They approach the bench, then huff away, fuming and just down right dejected.
The witness, Miss Saito, is called back up, looking so nervous, while Gojo? He is calm, cool, and collected, perfectly at ease, as he questions her about the night again. Her eyes nervously dart around the room, to the jury, and he’s so calm, you can’t even imagine being like him. He’s really something.
Then, he hits her with it, the gap of missing time from the phone records, and she starts stammering, sweating.
“Miss Saito, can you tell us about the phone call you made that night?” Gojo asks sweetly, as if he’s not interrogating, no he’s just caressing everyone with that deep timbre of his.
“Well… I-I was worried about my friend, so I called her to check in, but she didn’t answer. Then, I just… I hung up quickly.” She says, trying to play it cool.
“Ah, but, the records show no call was made to said friend at that time. In fact, it shows no calls at all. Did you perhaps delete something from your call history?” The room goes dead silent. “Accidental nude?” He says with a wink. You struggle to cover your laughter, the court fails.
“Objection!” Prosecution yells.
The Judge tries to hide her smirk. “Sustained. Mr. Gojo, please, refrain from asking about nudes.”
“Sorry, so sorry.” He brushes his hair back, turning and winking at the enamored jury. “Did you delete something, Miss Saito?”
You watch as she turns a little paler, her hands shaking as they fidget in front of her. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe it’s a mistake?”
Gojo smirks, turning to the jury. “A mistake hmm? I think it’s more than a mistake, don’t you all?”
The prosecution jumps up, looking like they’re about to have a meltdown. “Sit down, I don’t want to hear another objection.” The judge leans forward on her hands, looking intently at Gojo’s show.
“N-no, I don’t remember deleting anything! I didn’t see…” She’s about to cry, you can tell, and Gojo sighs, coming to lean his hands across the bench, handing her a tissue box.
“I didn’t ask you if you saw something, Miss. Did I?” The courtroom gasps at that. “Hmm, did you see something? Perhaps you saw… the real killer?”
“Objection!” The prosecutor is sweating now, and the court room erupts, as they try to object, but Gojo’s got the room.
“The truth will make you feel better, love.” He says to the young lady there, and she just falls apart then.
“Maybe I… I…” She looks at the accused, who is emotional clearly. “I hated you and wanted to ruin you! And… also…. Someone paid-”
“Your honor, he is leading!” Comes the prosecution.
“I’m not leading, I’m just letting her speak her truth. It wasn’t you, the killer, was it?” She shakes her head. “Go ahead, get it all out.” He leans his back against the bench, sighing.
“No, I would never… but I… he was cheating with those whores so of course I… I…” She’s sobbing, hiccuping, and everyone in the courtroom, including you, are in utter shock. You didn’t know that this would even develop so much. Then suddenly you feel it, his excitement, clear across the room.
“That call was to the person who really killed her, isn’t it?” She shivers, nodding then, and you lean forward, fucking fascinated.
“And who was that, that terrible person who’s so manipulated you. You just were in love you know.” He purrs the words, seducing everyone in that damn room, then and there. “Go ahead, let everyone know.”
She starts going at it then, spilling so much information, that they try to object her talking, which was pretty hilarious, you get some really odd thrill from it all. You watch as she practically runs off the stand, and Gojo sits down next to you, leaning back in his chair, looking over at you with a grin, then he hands you a piece of candy, and you giggle.
“Professor Gojo, bravo.” You whisper, he chuckles softly.
His hand moves up your thigh, under your skirt, and you bite your lip to keep from gasping. His touch is electric, and you're torn between the thrill of the case and the desire to jump him right there in the middle of the courtroom mixing together. You hesitate, but you brush the back of his hand with your fingertips, and your eyes meet, his darkening.
“Good work, Miss Brat, you absolutely helped.” He murmurs, and squeezes your thigh gently, it feels so delicious that you struggle not to make a noise. The man barely touches you and you fall apart, pathetic is what he makes you… and…
The praise from him? Fuck it gets you.
The deliberation begins, and everyone disperses, waiting for the call back. You and Gojo grab lunch, him taking you to get yummy Ramen, then you head back and wait in the little office. You're studying your books because you honestly needed to, and Gojo is going over everything with the client and the D.A. He comes back then, shutting the door and looking over at you.
“Such a good girl.” The way he says it makes you squeeze your thighs and your teeth clamp on your lower lip. “Ooh, you like that huh?”
“Hush. I can't let my studies slip.” You cross your legs now, struggling not to shift under his bright blue gaze. “You really are amazing at this though, Satoru.”
He preens under the praise and you can't help but smile as he does a twirl, holding his face. “Aw shucks, thank you shnookums!”
“The fuck, you're so goofy.” He laughs, coming to stand by where you're sitting in the office chair, so tall that your head is damn near at his lap, making your mouth dry.
“You're boring. Need to have more fun.” He snatches your textbook, you scowl, standing and jumping, he just grins with those fangs and eyes your chest. “Love to see those bounce.”
“Oh God, don't even.” You feel yourself heat up, trying to yank his arm down and get your book. “Gojo I have school you know!”
“I do, I'm your teacher. Fuck the thought of you in a naughty school girl outfit-”
“Hush!” You slam a hand on his mouth as he practically purrs against your hand. You struggle to not laugh, keeping a firm look on your face. “Be good.”
“Yes mommy.” He pouts and gives you big eyes. You laugh then, nearly snorting, then sigh.
“You're ridiculous. Now give me my book, please?”
“Gimme a kiss. Then you get it.” You tremble when he holds his arm high with the book, then the other wraps around your waist, hand burning your skin through your blazer.
“Satoru… when we're back at school Monday, like… it'll be…”
“Yeah, I'll be rock hard looking at your fuck me eyes across my classroom.” His hand brushes down your waist, desire pools between your thighs. “Hard wanting to fuck you in that dorm and make it impossible for you not to scream and let everyone know.”
“Gojo…” You whisper, pathetically.
“Fuck you so good you won't think of anything else.” He whispers those words against your lips, seductive, and you come closer, holding the lapels of his jacket now, pressure in your tummy at the thought. “Can't though, huh?”
“Can't. Bad idea.”
“Terrible idea.”
“Shit idea.”
You both pause, in an office of a courtroom trial, the biggest in years, and you lean up, tilting your chin, your eyes lock. His mirror the desire in yours, pretty face tense, perfect brows low over those eyes. He eases his arm down, then you kiss him, tongue sliding against his lips, pressing in, and the book chatters to the floor.
He moans into your mouth, hands gripping your hips, thumbs pressing in, hands so big they own you. You come up to hug his neck, falling into those kisses, the ones you constantly crave, until he has you pressed on the door, lifting you so effortlessly, hands cupping your ass and shoving up your skirt.
You gasp for a breath when he finally let's you pull away slightly, and Gojo's blue eyes are dark with lust, and he smirks at your reaction, his hand not moving from your ass, just holding you, pressing against you, making you want to grind against him for friction you crave.
"Can't resist me, can you brat?" He whispers, his breath warm against your skin.
“Conceited, arrogant…” But even as you say the words, you lean back into him, your body betraying you, hips pressing up for more.
"Mm, but you want it, don't you baby?" He murmurs, his thumb tracing circles on the bare skin of your neck, coming to wrap your throat, a threat of choking that makes you throb. He presses his weight against you, until it's all him. "I can feel it.”
You exhale, a shaky breath, then as he's inching his hand up your thigh, just watching you, a knock comes, right against your back. You tense, and Gojo just shushes you, easing you down off the door, straightening your dress.
“Yep, what is it?” He asks, so casually, picking up your book.
“Twenty minutes.” Comes the bailiffs voice.
“Perfect, thanks.” You let out a held breath, bending over dramatically. He laughs at you. “Hurting hmm?”
“Nope, just fine.” You take the book out of his hands, lips tingling, then Gojo pauses you.
“Let me fix your hair.” You blink a bit, then nod, and he puts the bobby pins back in place. “Bun got messy.”
It feels so good, his fingers in your hair, caring for you…
Fuck.
“Thank you, Satoru.” You murmur, and his hands are on your shoulders as he is behind you, leaning low, breath on your ear.
“Why are we always on time limits? It makes me so competitive with the clock.” You tremble. “Should I see how many times you can cum in-”
The door knocks again.
Gojo cusses under his breath. “Yep?”
The door opens and he lets go of your shoulders, you pretend to look at the book as the D.A. comes back in and talks to Gojo. By the time he leaves, deliberation is almost over, and you look back up at him. He moans, coming and cupping your face.
“The fuck me eyes kill me. Stop it.” You flutter your lashes as you look down, flushing. “Do you blush everywhere, Miss Brat?”
“You're ridiculous!” You hiss, he just grins, eyes lingering on your chest.
“You blush here.” His fingertips trail down the hint of cleavage, making your nipples press against your bra, straining the fabric. You cry out unwillingly, slamming your mouth shut then. But it's too late.
“Gojo we can't…”
“Could I get you off in three minutes?” You cover your face, sighing, then look back up at him.
“Could I do it?” You murmur, and he freezes, eyes wide and glittery, mouth open in an O.
“ Could you ? Have you even…” You're heating up more.
“No, I haven't but… you've pleased me and… it would be… I'm curious… I …”
You're just stammering and looking down, he kneels then, in front of you, holding your chin, tilting it up to look at him. “The thought of that is alone making me fucking precum, mmkay?”
“It is!?” You look right at him, he smirks a bit.
“I think we'll wait though. Till I'd have time to show you how.” You melt then, when his hands go to your face, cupping each side so delicately. Like you're precious.
“But back at school… what if we have no… fuck I'm being bold. Ugh. And making no sense.”
“I like it. This side of you.” He presses a soft kiss on your reddened lips, then sighs. “You know sucking my dick won't help your grades though.”
“Fuck off, Professor Dickhead!” You shove at him, he snorts in laughter, throwing his head back, you huff, smoothing your dress and struggling to function. Before you step out he takes your wrist. “What?”
“With words you've made me more turned on than anyone could. Just words.” You look at him in shock.
“What… I… Satoru you're so gorgeous I don't even get why-”
“Don't even say why I'd want you I'll get really fucking irritated.” He's glaring now, voice clipped. He's still got your wrist.
“I'm like a frog next to you.”
“I'm the frog. You're the princess. Gotta kiss me.” He purses his lips and you giggle. “You're banging ass hot, so please don't think you're not. I'm picky, too.”
“Thank you, Satoru.” You peck his lips. “My handsome frog.”
“Ribbet.” You giggle uncontrollably as he makes some stupid frog face, then he is laughing with you, hugging onto you. It feels even better than… no not better than his kisses, but so good. “Never say you're not hot again. I'll use a yardstick on that nice ass.”
“A yardstick!?” He grins, maniacally, but the thoughts whirl through your head.
“You're such a freak, you want that huh? Professor Gojo spanking his naughty student’s ass till it's bright fucking red.” He's whispering the words, and before you can lie, it's time to go.
Jesus you are on edge.
You're edged.
The deliberation is over, and you all file into the courtroom, your heart is hammering in your chest. Gojo seems calm, just talking with everyone. When the verdict is finally read, you find yourself holding your breath. They came back with a completely unanimous decision, though. Not guilty.
As all of the charges are read back to back out loud, all not guilty, the courtroom erupts into chaos, the accused's family hugging each other and sobbing, the prosecution looking stunned and furious. Gojo stands, smoothing his tie, his expression calm, like none of this surprised him, his eyes on you for a moment before the family comes to him.
“You saved my son’s entire life, Mr. Gojo. Thank you so much.” The accused dad, the state representative says, shaking Gojo’s hand.
“She helped too, actually. The phone call records.” He exhales, looking at you and grabbing your hand, bowing over it so formally.
“Thank you so much for helping. Bright future, especially working with him, he’s the best.” He smacks Gojo on the shoulder, and Gojo grins, you flush with pride, you've helped someone. It feels so good.
“Of course, I’m so glad I could help at all.”
“And I am so amazing, aren't I?” Gojo nudges you with his shoulders, and you are rolling your eyes, sighing, then look up at him.
“You are.”
As the courtroom clears out, you both pack up your things, your heart racing at such a thrill, and Gojo seems to be literally on cloud nine, damn near bouncing like a kid with way too much caffeine. He says good bye and takes pictures with his never ending fans outside, then you realize it’s getting to be evening, the sky casting a pretty dark orange glow.
Gojo takes his jacket off, and you smile. “I have a blazer, Satoru, I’m fine.”
He wraps you in it anyway, carefully, and you inhale it, wishing you could just live in any of Gojo’s jackets. He holds your shoulders carefully, looking at you with those big blue eyes. “You look really cute in it.”
You melt.
He sees it, he’s observant.
“I do?” You ask softly, and he nods, as you two stand together, the last people are filing out down the stairs, the wind blows his soft hair around, and you brush it back, watching his eyes shut for a moment.
“You always look cute, Miss Brat.” He teases a bit, after damn near brushing his head against your hand for more.
“Thank you, Satoru.”
On the car ride home you struggle to stay awake, exhausted, until you somehow wake up back at your dorm, drool out the side of your mouth landing on Gojo's expensive jacket.
“Shit, I'm so sorry! I'm always ruining your clothes.” He gently wipes your lips, leaning close, as you blink the sleep away.
“I'd like to make you drool.” He says softly, and you cry out, when his hand is on your thigh, squeezing.
“Satoru… we're… at my dorm. I can't… what…”
“Poor baby can't speak can she?” You manage a glare, yanking off his jacket.
“Fuck off, Professor Dickhead.”
“Didn't you offer to suck me off today?”
“I… you…” He's chuckling at you now. “Ugh, annoying!”
“Thought you were so eloquent, hmm…”
“I'll see you in class Monday.” You manage, and go to leave, he stops you, taking your hand.
“Any plans? Wild parties?”
“Me? No. I'll be studying, but Maki did invite me to some frat party. I'm not sure if I'll go.” You rub your tired eyes a bit, gather your things, and watch Gojo's lips turn down. “What's wrong?”
“Promise me you'll be careful if you go?”
Your pulse hammers in your throat, as his eyes glitter in the dark of his car. “Of course I will. I'll… text you? That's weird huh.”
“Just let me know you're good. Some of the Frat parties have… some shitty dudes. Just watch your drinks, okay?”
“That's so sweet actually…”
“Hush, don't tell anyone.” You smile softly, running a hand up and down his chest then.
“Wish you could go and we could be like…” You both pause at that. “Ignore me, fuck I should sleep. I'm saying dumb shit. Good night, Toru.”
At that, he's got a hard grip on your wrists, you wince a bit, looking at him in confusion. He pulls you close, so close you nearly are on top of him in his fancy little car, one of your thighs sound over his, hands on his chest, and you just pause, looking up at him, at the shadows from the city lights shining in on the perfect planes of Satoru Gojo’s face.
“I love when you call me that.” He says softly, and he leans down, lips a breath from yours, tempting you, right in front of your dorm.
“Toru…” You whisper again, knowing what you’re doing. He moans then, and yanks you on his lap, your thighs spread over him, a position you had not even been in with him. You feel him, growing hard right under your cunt, as he shoves your little black dress up your thighs, his hands now on your waist under your blazer. You’re trembling under his touch.
You both sit there, precarious, just breathing, as if both of you know if you kiss it’ll be over, you’ll be riding your Professor’s cock then and fucking there. You can’t even form a coherent thought as he presses up then, against your soaking wet little pussy, and you grind back, pressing your hips down and crying out. His eyes never left yours, just drinking you in.
“Should I give you something to think about, when you’re getting hit on by frat boys tomorrow?” He whispers, pulling you down again, and you feel how thick he is, how huge even under his dress pants. You cry out pathetically.
“Why, you jealous, Toru ?” You whisper, leaning closer, and he glares then, grabbing your hips and pulling you down hard, arching his own hips up, to where he’s between your puffy, slick folds now. “Ah!”
“You won’t want them, will you?” He whispers, against your lips, not kissing you but shoving you down on his clothed cock, making you soaked. “Say it, brat, that you won’t want anyone.”
“Why do you… care… mnh!” You’re lost in the sensation, grinding against him without even realizing it. His hands are everywhere, pushing up your skirt, exploring the smooth skin of your thighs, and you're so wet, so desperate for him, that you can't help but whimper, just a breath from his lips.
"Aw you want it so bad, don’t you baby?" He whispers, his voice full of smug satisfaction. "You want me to fuck you right here. So fucking desperate for my cock."
“No… I… mmm…” You hiss when he chuckles darkly, his hands moving up, cupping your breasts, as he pushes up again, teasing you with his lips.
“Still a shit liar, Miss brat. Say it, and I’ll get this pretty pussy off.” You get wetter, hotter at the thought, and watch him grin as you’re rocking your hips for more. “Soaking my pants, Miss Brat.”
“I… like to ruin… your clothes… ngh…” You can’t form a single coherent word, and he feeds off it, pouting up at you, mocking.
“I… like… to… grind on your dick, Toru! Mmm!” He mocks the fuck out of you, and you glare, shoving at him, trying to get your throbbing cunt off him.
“Fuck you, Professor Dickhead. Let me go.” He laughs again, softly.
“Admit you want it, Miss Brat. Me to make you cum, like only I ever have.” At his words you’re flushed, overheated, his grip won’t let you go, and you get dizzy in the car, realizing just what you all were doing.
“Satoru…”
“Toru.”
You exhale then, holding his face in your hands, lips hovering over his. “We’re being stupid and reckless, Toru.”
He grins. “Aw, baby, you just can’t admit it huh? Maybe I should ask her…” He runs a thumb over your panties, sticky and wet, dripping with desire. “She seems to like me more than you do.”
“She’s dumb. Mmm!” You clutch his shoulders as he grinds up on you, while shoving his thumb up on your clit, blue eyes wide and dilated, lips tempting you, glossy and full, you want so badly to let go, to give your pussy what she wants.
“Does she want me?” He asks, softer, you nod, and he yanks his hand away, leaving you breathless, confused. “I need you to use your words. Coherent words, Miss Brat.”
“Ugh!” You bend down then, pressing your cunt against his cock, watching him suck in a breath, hands going in his soft hair, yanking it back, making him look up at you for just a change. “I won’t be fucking around at this party, okay? I wouldn’t… I don’t want to.”
He pulls you down, lips taking over yours then, mouth just possessing yours, sloppy, messy kisses, tongues licking and teeth bumping, moaning into each other’s mouths. That all consuming fucking kiss, the one that you could never get enough of, rushing straight to your cunt that’s dripping more on him.
“Only want me, hmm?” You nod, helpless, unable to lie to him. “Say it, and I’ll get this perfect pussy off.”
“We can’t… here… we shouldn’t even be doing this right now.” Your voice breaks in the middle when he presses again, making you hiss at how bad you’re aching, eyes rolling back, and damn near ready to drool again at the sensations. Then you’re kissing again, and he lifts your hips up and slides two fingers in you at once, stretching you out, filling your aching little hole.
“Feel her, pulsing around me already.” He whispers, and the car gets too hot, hard to breathe with how much you want him, your cunt is drooling down his hand, as he tilts his fingers now.
“Want you, I want you. Want you…” Is all you manage, then you’re unbuckling his belt, surprise on his face for a brief moment, and you watch him closely, his face contorting in pleasure, his eyes fluttering shut when you grab his cock.
“ Fuck .” He moans, so sexy, and you’re raised up on your knees now, bending down, your ass on his steering wheel, one of your legs shoved against his gear shift, and all you can think about is that he’s so hot and huge in your hands.
You look down, salivating at the sight, even in the dark you can tell he has a pretty, perfect cock, so goddamn long it’s stupid. You stroke him harder, your hand moving in a rhythm that matches the beat of your insane pulse hammering in your throat, and his grip on one of your hips tightens, his fingers shoving in your cunt deeper, until you see stars, hand faltering for a moment.
“Under pressure, brat, remember?” He whispers, taunting you, and you just buck your hips, riding his fingers, while you swipe your thumb over the tip of his cock, smearing the precum around, and he jolts, his hips jerking upwards, pushing his length deeper into your grip. “Jesus… fucking… ”
“Jesus… fucking… can’t talk hmm Toru? Your words .” You taunt now, and he glares at you, as his breathing turns ragged, his chest heaving, and you feel your own arousal spike as you watch him lose control, bringing you even closer to the edge.
“You’re a fucking brat. Can’t wait to fuck this stupidly wet cunt.” He hisses the words, then he withdraws his fingers, bringing you down, until your cunt is pressing against his length.
“Toru!” You cry out, and you nearly fall, pressed against him, he groans when he feels you.
“So hot, so wet. Need it. Need you.” He yanks your panties to the side, then you both freeze, as a car parks right next to yours. You tense, straddling Satoru Gojo’s cock with just your panties as a sad, pathetic barrier of soaked lace. And he freezes, as you both look out the car window.
Someone gets out of what appears to be an Uber, and you pray Gojo’s windows are tinted enough, clinging to him, not breathing. It’s two seriously drunk girls, though, they’re both giggling, leaning and taking selfies, as you and Gojo just fucking sit there, your cunt throbbing, wanting him inside her, and him, so hard he hurts, leaking precum on your panties, making them a bigger mess.
They finally walk in, and he exhales, the same as you, then you both stare at each other, eyes locking, until you’re blushing furiously, realizing what had almost happened. You ease off him, and he winces, adjusting himself back into his dress pants, running a hand through his silky hair. You adjust your skirt, taking a shaky breath and then stepping out.
He’s instantly in front of you, shutting the car door behind you, and you clutch your books tight to your chest, trembling as he bars you, arms on either side of you against his car. You look up and meet his eyes, hungry, a little bit of pink on his perfect cheeks, his lips parted.
“Toru… we’re stupid.” You manage to say, and he smirks just a bit, shaking his head.
“You’re not stupid, Miss Brat. Well… stupidly hot.” He whispers, and you tense, clutching your thighs together, sticky as your wetness soaks you. “Stupidly tight. Stupidly wet.”
“ Toru… stop. ” You’re whining his name and he groans, cupping your face.
“I can’t handle how good that sounds on these gorgeous lips. Got me wanting to lick you on this hood right now. Make you scream it.”
You whimper, resting your head on his chest, holding your books so tight they dig into your arms. The door opens, and Satoru backs off, as another car pulls up as well, and you both catch your breaths, finally having distance. You can't even look at him, at his gorgeous face, a face that makes you forget your entire life, forget everything but how much you crave him.
“I should go inside.” Your voice is shaky, unsure, and he tilts your chin up, making you meet his beautiful gaze.
“If you need me to… if you need anything text me. Call me. Okay?” His voice is a little strained, and you nod, smiling up, lips stinging from his kisses, wishing you could just do it, right here. Let him lick you on his damn hood.
You hurt.
“Thank you, I will be fine though. Promise. I don’t drink much.”
“That’s worse, no tolerance.”
“You worry about me, huh? So soon?” He pouts a bit, standing straight then, hands in his pockets. You watch the wind whip his hair around, so gently, he looks so beautiful there, it makes your chest tighten. “Will you miss me all weekend?”
“You wish. Brat .” He rolls his eyes, and you smile softly, giggling a bit, earning his glare. “Won’t miss you at all, less of a headache. And less of my cock in pain.”
“I was gonna…”
“Yeah.”
You both damn near jump each other again, then you take his hand gently, enwrapping your fingers with his. He looks down at where they’re joined, bringing your hand up to his lips, kissing it, making you melt.
“Good night, Toru. I’ll see you Monday in class.” You mumble, blushing at the thought of that.
“Night, Miss Brat.” He mumbles back, and you run off practically, struggling to put distance, to get air between you two. You peek over your shoulder, and see him leaned against the car, hand over his face, and you realize…
Satoru Gojo wants you.
How, you can’t quite fathom.
Damn near as much as you want him.
His eyes look at you and you turn and run into the building, like some silly teenager, you can’t handle him looking at you like that, like he wants to eat you. You’re stripping, as is your new routine, hopping in the shower, because you honestly just can’t anymore, you can’t take how bad you want him.
You’ve never wanted something like that, and you both were dumb enough you were about to fuck right in front of your dorm. Oh, and his cock? The biggest and prettiest you'd seen…
Fuck.
***
"Come on, it's just one dance." The guy behind you urged, his breath hot and icky against your ear. He was honestly cute, and you all had talked just a bit, but the thought of it?
“I don’t dance, I’m sorry.” You say, nervously, looking around at the dancing sea of bodies, feeling the loud bass ringing in your ears.
His hand rested gently on the small of your back, on the outskirts of the crowded college party. “I could teach you?”
Gojo had taught you.
Remembering being in his arms nearly broke you, and you tremble thinking about it, about how much you crave him, how much you wish he could just… date you? Like maybe, when you’re done with school, or at least not in his classes, you all could, right, but would he be around, available? Look at how fucking handsome he was, there is just now way.
The thought punches you in the stomach.
You turned to face him, a cute blond guy, his eyes full of hope, and shook your head with a sympathetic smile. "I don't think so, sorry. Nice to meet you though!" You say, and then walk back through the room, until you run right into Maki.
“He was cute, why not dance?” She asks, her green hair was down today, straight, looking gorgeous. You sigh, running your fingers through it.
“I’ll dance with you.” She rolls her eyes, smiling at you.
“Are you pining for hot professor?” She teases, you sigh, rolling your eyes now, shaking your head.
“She’s totally fiending.” Yuta comes, teasing you with a poke. You smack his hand away, sighing.
“I know we can’t… I mean, not now.”
“So you’re what, holding out anther couple years? You’re already like three years dry.”
“Maki!” You glare at her, and she shrugs, walking towards the drink table, grabbing you each a beer. “It’s not like those were good you know.”
“The first time isn’t usually good. I mean, Yuta… he was amazing. Quick though.” She giggles and Yuta glares now.
“That just meant you’re amazing.” She flushes a bit, and kisses him, they were about the same height, both way taller than you. You crave that, but with…
“Ugh, I do have it bad.” You grumble, sipping the beer and grimacing, it was not your drink of choice.
“Listen, at least have some fun. Oooh, beer pong!” Maki bounces up and down, and before you know it, you are actually playing, you end up losing terribly, and you all are going back and forth. It starts hitting you after your third beer, this weird, fuzzy headed feeling.
You are a lightweight, so you back off a bit, and Maki and Yuta go at it with two more of their classmates, laughing as Maki annihilated the boys. You smile, then head towards the bathroom, and by the time you are in there, everything is spinning, and you grow dizzy a bit. You splash a little water on your face, then look down at your phone, contemplating…
You know you shouldn’t, but you’re tipsy.
Your thumbs move almost by themselves, and before you know it, you're typing a message to him, feeling your heart flutter in your chest, looking at the message over and over. Should you? Ugh!
Fuck it.
You: I miss you, Toru.
You freeze, hand on your chest, feeling your heart pounding, thrumming in your ears, overheated. You lean against the bathroom counter, and watch the three little bubbles move. What was he up to, you wonder, what did Satoru Gojo do, when he’s not a lawyer, a professor, a…
Professor Dickhead: You’re tipsy, aren’t you?
You giggle at that.
You: Yeah, a bit. Not gonna lie.
Professor Dickhead: Being safe?
You: Turned down a dude who wanted to dance.
Professor Dickhead: Good Girl.
You’re wet now. Great.
You: Wet.
No, did you just…
You: Ignore that!
You panic as he keeps typing, those damn bubbles.
Professor Dickhead: Show me.
Fuck…
You’re trembling, phone nearly falling out of your hand, and you contemplate it, you can’t right? That’s awful It’s making everything worse! No way…
You: What do you mean like… a picture?
Professor Dickhead: Pic, vid, I wanna see her.
You: Scandalous man, wanna see your student’s pussy? While she’s had three beers?
Professor Dickhead: Hmm… you know, I’d ask to finally see those perky tits, but I wanna see them in person first.
You flush.
You: And where are you?
Professor Dickhead: Out with Geto and Nanami. We’re at some fancy martini place and the girls are coming in hoards.
You giggle at that.
You: Bet one of them would show you their pussy, easy.
Professor Dickhead: Wanna see yours, though, it’s the prettiest one.
You: Are you rizzing me Gojo?
Professor Dickhead: Do I even have to?
You hop up on the counter then, and your hands shake as you lift your skirts, sliding your panties to the side. Fuck are you doing this? You are, aren’t you? Drunk texting your very hot professor, angling the camera to look at your glistening pussy in the selfie camera, lips puffy from the abuse your vibrator put on it this morning, thinking of him.
You slide your finger between your lips, taking a little video, rubbing up and down once, twice, then you pull the camera up, and lick yourself off your finger. You flush, from alcohol, horniness, and… the thrill, the… you’re nervous? You’ve sent like a titty pic before, but not this.
You hit send, squealing, then hopping off and splashing your face again, hearing someone knock on the bathroom door. You answer it, and it’s Maki, who just stumbles in, along with Yuta, shutting the door. She goes to sit and pee, and Yuta and you just laugh, as she glares.
“What? Like I care. You’re like my boyfriend and my girlfriend.” You sigh, looking back down on your phone, as Yuta looks over at you.
“Oh shit, you’re bright red!” He teases, and you go even redder. “Who ya texting?” Like magic, the sound of an incoming message pops up.
“N-no one!” Maki finishes, washing her hands and peering at your phone, just in time for a text to pop off.
“Professor Dickhead!?”
“Shush!”
“Oh shit, white haired Professor!” Yuta says, peeking too, you hide your phone against your chest. “It was a nude, huh?”
“Shut up you two ugh!” You shove it into your purse then, crossing your arms, chin up in the air. “Was not.”
“Liar!”
That one was in unison.
“That dude is still begging for you. Let’s get home, huh?” Maki says, and you nod, because you want nothing to do with him, with anyone.
You only want…
As you get in the back seat, Maki and Yuta are going at it, and you use the moment of reprieve, seeing that text.
Professor Dickhead: I want to bury my face in that pretty pussy. Drink all that wetness up.
You get wetter, thighs sticking together, and your heart races. You should ignore it. But that’s not what you want, is it? You crave his attention, his touch, his everything. You want him to claim you.
You: Toru… not alone. In a car. Can’t get that horny.
You don’t check the phone until you’re back in your dorm, chugging ice water like crazy and popping two tylenol, preliminarily. You get ready for bed, in your little tank and shorts, brushing your teeth, and it’s not until you actually lay down that you check, it’s like this odd nightly routine now, seeing his texts.
You crave them.
You crave him.
Professor Dickhead: Tell me when you get that nice little ass home safe.
You: I’m home, Toru.
Professor Dickhead: In bed?
You: Mmhmm, bet you wish you were here.
Fuck, this alcohol made you bold.
You: Am drunk. Ignore.
Professor Dickhead: Just makes you speak the truth, brat.
You: Hush. I should sleep.
Professor Dickhead: I’m gonna cum so hard to a five second clip, that it’s actually gonna be embarrassing. Who even am I now.
You feel giddy, it’s as if something so dirty is stupidly romantic.
You: Want me that bad, huh?
Professor Dickhead: You played with that pussy thinking of me last night, didn’t you baby? I can tell.
You: Shut up.
Professor Dickhead: All puffy.
How'd he know!?
You: You’re annoying! Byeee!
He laugh reacts to that message, and you roll your eyes.
He was right.
You: Really gonna masturbate to me?
Professor Dickhead: You act like I haven’t already.
You: What!?
Professor Dickhead: It’s become a nightly routine. Can’t get that perfect pussy out of my mind. Sucks it’s attached to an annoying brat.
You: That’s how I feel about your tongue, so talented, but it’s attached to a six foot four jerk.
He angry reacts that one.
You giggle.
Professor Dickhead: Funny you thought of me at a party, all drunk and getting hit on. And I’m on your mind.
Your heart races at that, at the truth, and Gojo knows how to pull the truth out of you, out of anyone. You did only think of him, you had been since you met, but you couldn’t just say that. Right?
You: My pussy texted you not me.
He hearted that one, making you snort in laughter.
Professor Dickhead: Good, I like her better than you.
You: You’re such a dick.
Professor Dickhead: You like looking at that dick?
You: Shouldn’t you be spending time with your friends?
Professor Dickhead: Didn’t answer me.
You: It’s… pretty and… perfect. It’s huge. You already know it though, don’t need to hear it from me.
Professor Dickhead: Want your mouth on it. Wanna fuck your tight little throat.
You’re gushing wet, you yank off the blanket, whining, covering your face with your hands. Your entire body throbs at his words. Suddenly, it rings, and you freeze, staring at it with wide eyes. Gojo is calling.
“Y-yeah?” You ask, and he’s quiet, you can hear the music and laughter in the background.
“Play with it for me.” His voice is so fucking sexy, especially over the phone, that your hand instantly does as he commands, sliding under your little pajama shorts waistband then, and you cry out. “ Fuck. ”
“I… mmm…”
“Little circles.” He orders softly, and you do so, playing with that swollen little clit, pressing up, imagining his touch. “Wanna drink you up, taste so yummy.”
“I wanna suck you off. Drink your cum.” You whisper then, and hear him curse, something slamming shut. You giggle a bit, then gasp as you slide a finger inside of you, tiny and pathetic. You whine. “Fingers… yours… better, s’much better.”
“You want my fingers in you?”
“Yes, Gojo… fuck…”
“ Toru .” He corrects, biting the words out.
“ Toru. ” He moans softly at it, whispering your name then, urging you on, and you’re close with your own fingers so fast it’s unreal. “ Toru, m’close.”
“Cum for me baby, think of me there, licking it all clean.” He says, husky and quiet, and you start to feel your tummy clenching, and you’re whining, gripping the phone to your ear for more of his breathing. God, even his breathing was so sexy it made you already sloppy pussy wetter. “Let me hear it, baby please.”
“You never… say… please… Toru!” You cry out then, loud as fuck, sounds vibrating in your empty little dorm room, and your hand is now covered in an embarrassing amount of wetness.
“Send a vid of it now. I have to go… you’re making things stupidly hard for me you know.” His voice is gruff, and you giggle, breathlessly.
“You did this to yourself!”
“Send it.”
“Fuck… maybe.”
“Do it and I’ll have a reward Monday.”
“A gold sticker! Professor Gojo!”
“Bye, brat.”
He hangs up the phone, and your damn heart is racing, so fast you think it’ll fall out, there is a ringing in your ears, and your thighs ache. You sigh, then take your phone, spreading your thighs, playing with the soaking mess he made your cunt with a couple of words and some breathing over a call. Then you send it, nervously, before wiping yourself up.
You start to fade out, but you hear a buzz, and jerk a bit, in that stage of sleep where you feel like you’re falling. You bleary eyed look at the screen, and it’s a message from him, from…
Professor Gojo: Prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen.
You: Whass gonna be my rward Toruu.
Your eyes cross, so exhausted. He laughs at your response.
Professor Dickhead: Lol, your fingers left the chat.
You: The fingers did too muchh work.
Professor Dickhead: Go to bed, silly, it'll be a surprise.
You: Am bed. G’night Toruu.
Professor Dickhead: Night, pretty.
You fall asleep smiling, hugging the phone.
***
On Monday, your hangover is finally gone, but the aftermath of that night is lingering in your head, as you’re in Professor Nanami’s class, the one right before Professor Gojo. Nanami is a class favorite, as he was so calm and kind, and of course the girls swoon over him and his model cheekbones. You’re a little lost adrift when he calls on you.
“Yes, Professor Nanami?” You ask, and he gives you a little turn of his lips, hazel eyes soft and tired, he looked like he really needed a nap. You flush when you think how he was there, when you were sending Gojo…
Shit. Focus.
"Can you tell us, in your view," Nanami began, his eyes locking onto yours now. "How does the court's interpretation of the Fourth Amendment in this decision impact privacy in the digital age?"
You fumble through your brain, scrolling through all the open windows that were honestly just Gojo, to get to the books of laws you’d been pouring over. Then you find it in your mind. People in the class are watching you, Yuta is in this one, and he gives you two big thumbs up, mouthing ‘you can do it’.
“Well, Professor, the notion of privacy was rooted in physical spaces, before technology advanced so much. And now, there’s really almost nothing that is private with our digital footprint, is there?”
“Indeed, not much is private. But shouldn’t we still strive for it?”
“Of course we should consider the implications for our digital lives. This decision primarily deals with privacy but also, in court cases, it happens at times where you need to see those things. That’s what subpoenas are for.”
He smiles, and at the end of class he pauses you for a moment.
“Yes, Professor Nanami?”
“Heard you helped in that case for Gojo. Good job.” You blush under the calm praise, as the class has filed out, leaving the two of you. Nanami takes his suit jacket off and you catch a glimpse of those action star muscles.
“Thank you so much, I didn’t do that much.”
“Gojo went on and on about you. So, I disagree. It’s not often a little narcissistic idiot compliments someone.” You laugh then, and cover your mouth, but Nanami laughs with you, the first time you've seen him do it, and he looks far too pretty.
What  pact did these three professors make with a demon to look so good, you wonder. A sacrifice surely.
But Gojo?
He talked about you!?
“That’s actually really sweet of him.” Nanami’s eyes narrow a bit, and you tense just a bit.
“Be careful, okay?” He says softly, tone shifting, and you flush bright red, looking around the empty room, stepping a little closer.
“We haven’t…”
“I really don’t wanna know. I’m assuming the worst because it’s Gojo. But where he can get out of anything, your career hasn’t begun. So…” He puts a hand on your shoulder, patting it. “Just be careful.”
“Of course, thank you. I promise I won’t let any studies slip.”
“I wouldn’t think you would. But don’t lose focus. All right…” He unbuttons his wrist sleeves a bit, rolling them up. “Head on out, I have way too many papers to grade here.”
“Of course, have a good day Nanami! I mean, Professor!”
He smirks as he sits down, rubbing his tired eyes. “Nanami is fine.”
You smile shyly then bounce out of the class, shutting the door with a loud click behind you, heart racing. Was your attraction so obvious?
Gojo…
Someone yanks you in a room then, and you hold back a scream, as a big hand comes to cover your mouth, and you look up to those blue eyes, dilated and looking way too intense. So intense you can’t stand it. You blink a bit, and he’s grinning, letting his hand drop.
“Miss Brat. Ready for the surprises?” You giggle breathlessly, before shoving at his chest.
“You’re ridiculous. Scared the fuck out of me.” Nanami’s words run through your mind then. “We need to be careful…”
“I know, that’s why I snatched you up.”
“Like a psycho!”
He waves his hands, then he holds out two bags, one a little black glittery one, like the way he made you when he hit your G spot-
Get it together, damn.
The other was a pretty little white one, also glittery, a bit like Gojo’s silky fucking hair-
Stop it.
“You didn’t have to actually get me anything, I… shouldn’t have even done that, I’m still embarrassed at…”
“Nope. Don’t say it. I have a yardstick.” You feel pressure in your lower tummy then, clutching and unclutching. He just laughs, so fucking gorgeous, throwing his head back. “Freak.”
“You! Heard you were bragging about me hmm?” You caress his chest then, and he tenses, then glares.
“One tiny bit, mmkay?” You grin. “Gonna get a big head.”
“Thank you though… which first?”
“Both are motivational, so they’ll help you succeed.” He’s looking devious, and your heart flips a bit, just what was he up to? “Black or white first?”
“Um… white. Like your hair-fuck!” He chuckles at that, handing you the bag, and you struggle not to blush and tremble under his gaze.
“You’re really cute.”
“Hush.” You gently open the bag, and there is a pretty little white box, long and rectangular. Your eyes meet his, studying your every expression intently. “Gojo, you didn’t have to-”
“Open it, Miss Brat.” His soft, deep tone orders you, and of course you obey, shit you’d do anything when he talks like that.
You gently open it, and it’s a beautiful bracelet, thick rope of silver, with one charm and two big colorful beads, bright blue. You finger the charm delicately, and it’s a charm of the law scales, bright silver. You blink back emotions, looking at it, and then back up at him.
You didn’t have much in the way of parents, and with your lack of boyfriend history, no one had ever gotten you anything like this. You feel tears prick your eyes then, swiping them away and gently pulling it out of the box, struggling to keep yourself together.
“Hey, you okay pretty?” He asks softly, different from his usual teasing tone, and you realize tears are falling.
“It’s so pretty, I don’t… you should have gotten me…”
“It’s motivational. Here.” He takes the clasp, and grabs your wrist, putting it on his chest. “This is because you killed it at court. The more times you excel, I’ll add charms to it.”
“Toru… I…” You’re crying, fuck. He wipes your tears.
“You cryin, brat?” You just nod.
You’re so pretty when you’re crying, those tears flowing down your pretty cheeks, big eyes glittering as you look up at him. You are so small, so open. He’d been dreaming of you constantly, since that random night. Yeah, he’d thought you were beautiful, but when he had kissed you?
Gojo had been with countless women, fuck he’d shared women with his best friend casually, but you? The way you tasted, how wet you get, those eyes after he’d made you cum, it was the most addicting thing. More addicting than candy, Gojo’s only real addiction, you tasted better.
Your hand shakes violently, as the silver bracelet rests on your delicate wrists, and he takes it gently, kissing it, watching your lips part, those fuck me eyes in full force. God, the way you looked at him? It fucked him up, made him want to say fuck everything and fuck you then and there. Keep you well fucked, too, so all these guys he saw look at you would fuck off.
Possessive, he felt possessive, of a girl that he’s not dating. A girl he hasn’t even fucked. A girl with a bright future, that he didn’t wanna fuck up.
But…
For you?
“Toru, no one has ever gotten me anything like this.” He pouts a bit at that, tilting his head, pretty face concentrated on you.
“No one? It’s just a pandora, silly.” He taps your nose, but then he has to swipe more tears. “Not even like…”
“Don’t have a family really.” He pauses, brushing your hair back softly, letting you speak calmly. “And we all know I’m shit at having a life. So no boys.”
“Well, fuck them, anyway. Don’t get so excited. It’s motivation.”
You smile tremulously, hugging him around his waist then. “I love it, Satoru, just perfect. Thank you so much.”
He hugs you back a bit, then taps your back. “You’re welcome. Look all from letting me see a five second tease vid.”
“Satoru!” He snorts in laughter.
“You’re such a crybaby.” He nods to the other bag then.
You were so touched by a bracelet, which was nothing to him, Satoru Gojo was filthy rich, born rich, then busted his ass to get more. But if it wasn’t for the entirety of the situation, he’d have you dripping in diamonds. Fuck, naked, dripping with diamonds, god he needed to see you fully, when and how could you all?
It’s a consuming thought.
You crying was even hotter? Fuck.
“What’s this one?” You hold out a black box curiousy, thicker and bigger, then when you open it, you slam it shut. “Toru!”
He’s grinning like the Joker now, the Mad Hatter, a psycho. “This will be your stressor, keeping quiet and focused when I use it on you in class tomorrow.”
“No! No, no, uh uh!” He just grins wide, and as you’re holding what is literally a vibrator for panties, and he’s wiggling a remote control, you freak out.
“Let’s try it on.”
“Satoru… you psycho…” He’s bending down, on his knees in front of you, and his breath is on your thigh, sliding up your skirt. You fall back, until you’re leaned against the door frame.
“Pressure, Miss Brat. Now… let’s…” Then Satoru Gojo has hooked your panties in his fingers, yanking em down.
What… the fuck were you in for?
Chapter 5
Chapter on Ao3:
https://archiveofourown.org/works/56895382/chapters/146269327
245 notes · View notes
skzdarlings · 2 years ago
Text
07. sharing a bed series ; skz ; seungmin
masterlist.
sharing a bed series part 7/8. because it’s the cheesiest most classic trope and it’s FUN. -
pairing: kim seungmin/reader content info: sexual content. enemies2lovers, sharing a bed trope. sassy bad girl reader, sassy good boy seungmin. handcuffed together trope. sex toys, blow jobs, strap-on blow jobs, handjobs, dick piercings, fake sex. lots of bickering, lots of moaning, lots of evil smirking hehe.
-
It takes about ten minutes to get through the doorway because neither you or Seungmin will concede ground.  With your right hand handcuffed to his left hand, your shoulder-to-shoulder breadth is too big for the doorframe. 
After some arguing, you face each other.  You are glaring the entire time but you manage to force your way into the bedroom. 
You can’t change clothes with the handcuffs so you head straight for the bed where you proceed to stumble around clumsily.  With some cussing and your failed attempt to put him in a headlock, you and Seungmin manage to get in bed. 
You lay on your backs with your handcuffed hands between you.
There is a minute of silence.   Everyone else went to bed hours ago so the vacation house is silent.   It’s just you and the most annoying man on earth, forcibly handcuffed together, stuck in the same bed.    
“My life is a joke,” you say. 
“Yeah,” Seungmin says.  “Your life is a joke.  Ow!”
He slaps your hand when you pinch his thigh and you smack his chin only for him to chomp at your fingers.  You both roll your eyes and look away from each other for all of ten seconds, then you glare at him and he gives you a judgemental stare. 
“How are you going to sleep like that?” he asks. 
You raise your joined hands, the chain jingling.   
“Wow, Seungmin, whatever do you mean?” you say dryly.     
“Wow, Seungmin, meh-meh-beh-beh,” he mocks your tone then uses his free hand to smack your arm.  It makes a crinkling sound when it collides with the leather jacket you can’t remove.  “I’m talking about the skinned cow on the cow.”
“Funny.”
“The skinned cow is the leather jacket.”
“I know that.”
“And you’re the other cow.”
“I got it, Seungmin.”
“Just checking,” he says with that blithe, shit-eating grin of his. “You’re just not very smart so I wanted to be nice and check.”   
This fucking guy.  
Kim Seungmin is the mouthiest smartass you have ever met.  A friend of your friends, the acquaintanceship has been forced on you for the sake of the overall friend group.   You two are like oil and water, completely incompatible in every way.  You are the denim-and-leather bad girl and he is the blazer-and-tie good boy.  Equally sassy, but astronomically apart in lifestyle.   You clashed from your first introduction. 
You can usually manage an hour or two of civility, especially if you stay out of each other’s way, but this vacation has pushed that strained dynamic to its breaking point. 
Changbin’s family owns a vacation house near a ski resort so your whole friend group is spending the winter holidays at the luxury cabin.  This means you and Seungmin have been forced to interact for much longer than a few hours. 
You expected some annoyance but Seungmin is an even bigger brat than you remembered.  You have already spent three days at each other’s throats.  Tonight you went to a party at the resort and the few hours away from him did wonders, but it only took one stupid remark for you start fighting all over again. 
You didn’t even have time to remove your boots or jacket.  With Seungmin, it was on sight. 
Fed-up, Minho leapt off the couch and disappeared into his bedroom.  The others were just groaning or slouched in their seats, shaking their heads at you and Seungmin.   You couldn’t stop if you wanted to, every dry remark needing a comeback, every insult escalating. 
Then Minho returned.  He yanked Seungmin out of his seat and practically threw him at you.   You should have let his stupid face hit the ground but your reflexes kicked in and you caught him in his flail.  There were a few seconds of confusion before Minho clasped the handcuffs around you.   The whole room went silent, you and Seungmin staring at the cuffs then looking at Minho. 
Minho dangled the keys in your face.  
“I will let you out of the handcuffs,” he spoke as if speaking to particularly stupid children, “when you overcome your differences and decide to stop ruining the holiday.”
You and Seungmin both sputtered in protest, but neither of you were brave enough to physically fight Minho for the keys.  That kitty has claws, mean ones.  Not even you mess with Lee Minho. 
Now you and Seungmin are stuck sharing a bed.  You are still fully dressed, in jeans, shirt, and leather jacket, whereas he was already dressed down in pyjama pants and a t-shirt.  All he has to do is remove his glasses and he’s fine to sleep. 
You, however, are dressed for a whole different kind of evening.
“Trust me,” you say with an aggrieved sigh, “the jacket is not the most uncomfortable thing I’m wearing.”
He pinches his glasses at the stem, wiggling them up-and-down like it will help him see better. 
“What do you mean?” he asks.  “Wait, you’re a freak, right?  Is it something kinky?”
He asks it mockingly but you smile and turn your face to him, lifting an eyebrow.  You get some satisfaction from the way his face contorts with realization.
“Wait, really?” he asks.  “What the hell.  Why?  What is it?”
“You sound curious.” 
You really can’t help but tease him, anticipating he will snap back with equal verve.  You are surprised when his remark gets tangled on his tongue, his mouth open with no reply.  The tips of his ears are faintly red. 
“Oh, you are curious,” you say.
“Gross, no way.”  He comes back to himself and scrunches his whole face with revulsion.  “Keep it to yourself.  Pervert.”
“Proudly.”
“Wow.”
You feel satisfied with the silence that follows, feeling like you finally won a conversation and sent him into a mute stupor.  But then he looks at you and you brace yourself for the incoming wave of irritation. 
“It’s not gonna suddenly go off or something, is it?” he asks.  “I don’t want to wake up to you thrashing around like a fish on a boat deck.”
“It’s a hard packer.  You know, a strap-on for wearing out?  A ready-to-go, signed-sealed-and-delivered dick?”  You list everything with the same pleasant smile.  “Big one too.” 
His face is perpetually frozen in a state of prepared ridicule so he still looks marginally judgemental, but more confused than repulsed. 
“Right now?” he says.  His eyes drift down to your jeans.  “You wore… you wore it out?”
“Brave new world, Seungminnie,” you say, the nickname making his eye twitch despite the sarcasm in it. 
“You’re lying,” he says.  He doesn’t wait for you to argue; he reaches with his cuffed hand to feel for extra weight between your legs.  It drags your own hand along with it, too surprised to react fast enough to stop him.  He finds what he was looking for, his brow furrowing when he closes his fist over the hard bulge under your fly.   “Whoa, wait, seriously?” 
“Dude!”  You pry his hand off, though he doesn’t go without a fight, patting it like it’s puppy.  “What the hell, man.  You can’t just grab someone’s dick like that.”
“Why not? It’s not real.”
“It is in a way!  I can still feel it!”
“You can?”  He pokes it.    
“Yes.” You swat him away.   “Depending on position.”     
“And you wore it to the party?” he says, then whistles low and shakes his head.  “Wow.  You have a high opinion of yourself.  Thought you were gonna get lucky?” 
“I did very well for myself, thanks.”
He holds up your cuffed hands with a sarcastic look of his own. 
“Not that well,” he says.  “Or you wouldn’t be here.” 
“I don’t tend to stay the night,” you say. 
“Love ‘em and leave ‘em,” he says.  “I should have known.”  He sighs as if disappointed in you. 
You barely register his retort, your brain jumping ahead a few paces.  
Walking around with ready-to-play silicone in your pants does have a tendency to leave you teetering on the side of horny, so maybe that’s why your brain is incapable of supplying another type of plan, but a plan begins to form nonetheless.
“I have an idea,” you say. 
“Breaking your wrist so you can slide out of the handcuffs?”
“Kim Seungmin, I’ll let you know that while I might have one hand out of commission, I am still capable of shoving your slipper in your mouth.” 
“Kim Seungmin, meh-meh-meh, beh-beh-beh.”
“Why do I even bother?”  You sigh.  “Do you wanna get out of these handcuffs or not?”
“Fine.”  He fiddles with his glasses and glares at you.  “I’m going to regret asking this, but what’s your idea?”
You sit up and nod your head towards the wall behind the headboard. 
“Minho’s room is on the other side of this wall, isn’t it?”  you ask.   
“Yes,” he replies, warily.  “Why?”
“Let’s pretend to have noisy sex.”
“What!”  He sits upright too, the cuffs jingling again.
“We can bang the headboard against the wall,” you add.
“What the hell is that supposed to accomplish, you idiot?”
“Two things,” you say.  “One: that we have clearly resolved our differences through the release of sexual tension.  And two: if we are exceptionally noisy about it, it will piss him off enough to want to separate us again.” 
“That is a terrible plan,” he says, which is not a rejection.  “Besides there’s no sexual tension between us.  There’s no way he’d believe it.”
“Well then,” you say, leaning closer to his face, “you better put on a believable performance to make up for it, hm?” 
You expected him to lean back but he didn’t move, so you find yourself nose-to-nose and locked in a staring contest.  It is so quiet that you can hear every intake of breath.   His gaze goes from your eyes to your lap and back again, jaw clenching.
“Fine,” he says.  “I’m only willing to try because I’d rather chew off my hand than spend the night with you—”
“I mean, you can try that too,” you say. 
“Shut up.”  He grabs the collar of your jacket and jerks you around.  “Just get down.”
“Uh, get down?” You push when you realize he is trying to wrestle you onto your back.  You lift your joined hands off the bed so he loses his balance.  “You get down. I’m on top.”
“Can you relax?” he says, scrambling back upright.  “We’re not actually having sex, you uptight weirdo.”    
“Yeah, but do you think those skinny arms can push this headboard against the wall?”
“I think these skinny arms can push you off the bed.” 
“I think those skinny arms will find themselves following.” 
You tussle for a good minute, pushing at each other’s faces and tugging each other’s shirts.  Your physical strength overpowers his but he isn’t hindered by a stupid leather jacket.   Already a bit sweaty and exhausted, you surrender with an aggravated huff. 
“Fine, try it then,” you say, flopping on your back.  You stubbornly cross your arms, trapping his cuffed hand in your arm. 
“Let me go,” he says, trying to wrest his arm back. 
“I’m not doing anything.  Ahh, stop that!”
He tires to lick you.  Tongue out, he dives at your head.  He only stops when you snatch his glasses off his face, at which point he climbs on top of you to try and grab them back. 
“Stop it. This is so immature,” he says, stretching to reach your own outstretched arm.
“Immature?” you ask, aghast.  “You were trying to lick me!”
“That was different.”
“How?”  
“Because you suck,” he says. 
He manages to get his glasses back.  He sticks out his tongue as he puts them on his face. 
You tussle a little more, shuffling around and swiping at each other.  Eventually you get to the middle of the bed with him still straddling your hips.  Your cuffed arm lifts when he grips the headboard with both hands.  He strains for one pitiful push.  His hair bounces but the headboard barely hits the wall. 
You lift an eyebrow. 
“Shut up,” he says.
“I didn’t say anything,” you reply.
“I can hear your ugly face.”
“That’s a you problem.”
He ignores you and braces himself to push on the headboard again.  All the beds are extravagantly woodworked pieces, the headboards dense and heavy.  Despite the proximity to the wall, you are not surprised it takes effort to actually make the bed bounce.  
Seungmin, to his credit, does not give up easily.  He braces his shoulders, but this time when he pushes he rocks with his whole body.  
Unfortunately, this does drag almost all his weight against the toy in your pants.  You are wearing the kind of underwear designed to support a toy, the base of it separated from your clit by only a strip of fabric.  When he rocks against you, it grinds there, and your hands instinctively fly to grab his hips.
It knocks him a bit off balance because your cuffed hand drags his down too.  He puts that hand over yours, cupped around his hip, and glares down at you. 
“What the hell was that?” he asks. 
You let go of his hips immediately. 
“Nothing,” you say.
He looks at you with a scrutinizing eye, then looks down, then up again.   You hold his gaze unflinchingly, at least until he rocks again and a little spark of heat goes off inside you. 
“Can you feel that?” he asks.  He asks it matter-of-factly, peering down at you from behind his big round glasses, sitting comfortably in his stupid pyjamas. 
“Yes,” you speak in as steady a voice as you can, because you will not show weakness first.   “There are only a couple positions where I can feel it strongly.  This… is… one of them.” 
“Wow,” he says.  He looks genuinely reflective for a minute, then he grins one of his evil grins.  “So… you can feel when I do this?”  He puts his free hand on the middle of your chest and leans forward so he grinds against you at a different angle, his own bulge pushing against yours. 
“Ohmyff—”  You grab his hips again, freezing him while he snickers above you.  “Dude.” 
“Just checking,” he says.  He grabs the headboard and pushes again.  The thud is a soft one. 
You clench your jaw, annoyed and wound up.  You grab his waist and roll over in one fluid motion, knocking some wind out of him when you thump him on his back.   His thighs clench instinctively to hold onto your hips, his legs still around your waist when you grab the headboard and shove it several times in a row.  
His cuffed arm is above his head, hand dangling under your grip on the headboard.  His glasses are askew from the flip, his legs still open around yours.  He stares at you, however crookedly through the tilted glasses.  Your breathing is heavy in the quiet room.  He swallows.
You break the silence with a pointed, “Well?”
“Well, what?” he asks just as roughly. 
“Moan or yell or something.  Whatever you normally do in bed.”
“I’m normally quiet.”
“I find that hard to believe,” you say dryly.  “Since that mouth never stops.”  
“Why don’t you moan?” 
“Because I’m in charge of bed pushing.”  To make your point, you rock the bed some more, pushing slightly against him with the motion.  The headboard hits the wall for a few rhythmic thumps. 
He fixes his glasses with his free hand, still frowning at you.  That hand freezes on his glasses when you shrug your coat off your free arm, too hot to keep wearing it.  It will only get caught on the handcuffs if you push it down the other arm so you leave it hanging off your shoulder.  You put your hand back on the headboard, muscles flexing with the next shove.   His eyes go to your arm. 
“Well?” you say.  
He looks at you.  It’s a cold, unfeeling stare, followed by an annoyed puff of a breath. 
Then he makes a sound, a small, rough moan in the back of his throat.   You are certain only you can hear it.   He looks right at you while doing it, legs still accommodating your shape, on his back with an open mouth while glaring at you despite the noises.
It is, in a word, hot.  Hot as fucking hell.  Oh god.  You are not getting turned on by Kim Seungmin.  Absolutely not. 
He moans again, closing his eyes and shifting with the next push, as if he can really feel it.   He cants his hips and falls back again.  He moans one more time.
Ah, you think.  Fuck. 
You stop shoving the bed for a second, breathless and not from exertion. 
You clear your throat.  Seungmin is still staring at you.  You stare back, then your gaze drifts.  The leather jacket starts to slip down your shoulder so you tug it back up.  You gulp. 
“You’re hard,” you say, a very basic observation.  His soft pyjama pants leave little to the imagination.
He drops his legs from around your waist, but you are between his thighs so he can’t quite close them.  He plants his feet on the bed and glares up at you. 
“So are you,” he says.
“Mine’s not real,” you say.  
“Ohh, so now it’s not real?”  He rolls his eyes.  “Sorry, I can’t keep up with Schrodinger’s dick.” 
“You know what I mean, smartass.”  
“If anything yours is more real,” he says.  “Your dick is more deliberate than mine.  I can’t control my hard-on but you put one there on purpose.” 
That logic is a weirdly difficult to argue.  You try to think of a witty comeback but your brain is more than a little fried. 
“So,” is all you say, at a loss. 
He stares up at you for another second, then pushes himself upright.  You let his cuffed hand lead yours, at least until you realize he is bringing his hands to the button of your jeans.  You seize his cuffed hand and tug it away. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask.
“What do you think I’m doing?” he asks contemptuously.  He even snarls. 
Despite the viciousness, he dives in without waiting for an answer.  He uses his free hand as a guide, but otherwise he leans forward and clamps his teeth around the button.  He works it open quickly, then takes the zipper in his mouth and yanks it down. 
You let go of his hand, surprised.  He uses both hands to fish the toy out of your pants. 
He balks at it. 
“You walked around with this all night?” he asks, looking up at you. 
Fuck.  It is literally right by his face.  It looks obscene.  Your figures twitch with the urge to cup his chin. 
“Yes,” you answer in a low voice.  “It’s my preferred method of, uh, action.”
“Action,” he repeats, smiling like the word is a hilarious punchline.  He even cackles a little.  “Action,” he repeats.  “Not ‘making love?’”  His tone is drole. 
“Not really the making love type,” you say. 
“Wow,” he says.  His eyes flick to your toy dick, just millimeters from his face.  He pushes his glasses up his nose.  He glances up at you with that evil smile.   “Same,” he says. 
Then suddenly he has his mouth wrapped around the end of it, looking up at you as he sucks on it. 
For a second, you think you have gone completely insane, because you swear you can feel it.  Your clit and pussy and every other body part rears to life with sudden, unbidden arousal. 
“Jesus fucking—” you start.
He pops off your dick with a wet sound.   He licks his lips. 
“Hmm,” he says, eying it thoughtfully.  “Tastes funny.   Could you feel that?”
“Kinda,” you squeak.  “In a way.”
“Got it.” 
Is this even turning him on?  His dick is filling out his pyjama pants so you think so, but he is also approaching the entire thing like it can be hacked through a scientific algorithm.   He studies the toy with a lot of scrutiny, as if he is calculating the mechanics of it. 
“You don’t have to—” you start, but then suddenly his mouth is back on the end of it, his free hand is in the middle of it, and he is pushing it back against you, clearly having figured out you can feel the part against your clit.  He grinds it there, up and down, bobbing his head and staring up at you. 
It is usually fairly difficult to reach orgasm this way but he takes you the edge in an almost terrifying speed run, then abruptly stops.  He takes in a deep breath, a huge wad of spit connecting his lips to the end of the toy.
“Did that do something?” he asks, wiping his mouth. 
Your jacket slips down your arm and catches on the handcuffs.  You stare at him.
“Uhhh…” you say, voice guttural.  “Yes.” 
He grins, looking immensely satisfied with himself. 
“That wasn’t so hard,” he says.  “I thought it would be more complicated.  I’m guessing gravity works in your favour when someone sits on it?” 
Yes, that is your brain spilling out of your ear in a big, mushy goop. 
“Uh, yeah,” you say.  “Yeah.”  What the fuck else are you supposed to say? 
He suddenly narrows his eyes at you, his regard suspicious even while he starts jerking the toy with his free hand. 
“How do I know you’re not lying?” 
You show him the only way that makes sense, leading his cuffed hand to your pants and nudging the toy aside so he can slip his fingers past it.  He freezes completely when he feels how turned on you are, looking up at you as he returns his now wet fingers to himself. 
“Oh,” he says.  He looks at his fingertips.  “I see.” 
Then he grins at you and puts his fingers in his mouth. 
“Right,” you say.  “Got it.” 
You grab him and put him on his back again, reaching immediately for his waistband.  You have barely grasped the material when you are suddenly shoved back, his foot planted squarely in the middle of your chest. 
“Slippers first,” he says.  
He is just being difficult.  You know that, but you indulge the little brat anyway, glaring at him while removing his stupid slipper.  You toss it behind you and he switches feet, shoving his other one in the same spot.  He smiles at you, leaning back on his elbows at tapping his slippered toes against your heart.   You shake your head but remove that one too.  Before he can try any more funny business, you grab him under the knee and push his knees back to his chest.  His glasses slip a little again.  His cuffed hand can’t leave yours, hooked under his knee, so his free hand awkwardly reaches up to fix them. 
“Careful,” he says, like you’ve been the unreasonable one in any way, shape, or form. 
“I’ll try,” you say dryly, then reach for his waistband. 
You get the material barely shuffled past his hips when your jaw falls open. 
“Hold on,” you say, fingers reaching for his twitching dick.   “No way.  No way.” 
Kim Seungmin.  Blazer-and-tie good boy.  Pristine socialite.   Arrogant snob.   High society darling.   Spoiled brat.  Good boy.  Good boy.   Good boy. 
He has a classically beautiful piercing on the head of his dick. 
He opens his mouth to speak, his expression revealing it is about to be some mouthy retort, but it turns into a gasp when you run your thumb up and over, teasing at it, gathering a not-inconsiderable amount of precum and stroking the whole length of him. 
“Aren’t you pretty,” you say, circling the most sensitive cluster of nerves with your thumb.   It makes his thighs twitch and his shoulders shake. 
“S-surprised?” he asks. 
“Honestly, yeah,” you admit. 
He looks very satisfied with that, grinning at you.  That evil smile drives you crazy so you flash a grin of your own then dive down. 
His fake moans were pretty close to his real ones, but his real ones are louder as you expected.  He has to bite his fist to keep the sound down.  You rise, wiping at your mouth and glaring at him. 
“Louder,” you say.  “Remember?”
“Oh, right.”  He drops his hand.  “Your stupid plan.  Okay.  Continue.”  He waves you onward like a prince, thumping his head back on the pillows. 
He is so annoying.  He really does have a pretty dick, though.  Drawing real moans out of him is more fun than arguing over fake ones, and he makes some exceptionally lovely sounds when you put your mouth on him.  He starts gasping when he gets close, his face scrunching up, but he grabs your head and stops before he gets there fully. 
You look at him with a questioning eyebrow lift but move when he nudges you.  He gets on his knees so you are kneeling in front of each other, then he guides your hand back to his dick at the same time he curls his fingers around the base of your toy.  
Your eyes are heavy-lidded and your mouths are close together but not touching.  It feels like another contest, to see who will give in and kiss the other person first, even while your hands are way past that stage. 
Fuck it, you think when he gets a bit whiny, breathing hard against your lips.  You clasp your free hand around his neck and drag him close for a kiss.  It makes him come, his back locking and mouth opening under yours.  He wouldn’t be Seungmin if he didn’t try and turn a kiss into a fight, licking at you with messy intensity.  The rapid back-and-forth of his tongue coupled with his skilled hand takes you over the edge too. 
You get a bit euphorically giggly when you come, smiling against his mouth. 
Seungmin turns unexpectedly clingy, putting his free arm around your neck and burying his face in your shoulder.  He holds so tightly that you fall, flopping onto the bed with him still nestled against you.  
You lay there for a bit, him still hiding, your heavy breathing slowing to a more normal cadence.  Eventually he lifts his head and exhales.  He adjusts his crooked glasses then grins. 
“I won,” he says.
“You can’t win at sex,” you reply.
“Yes you can, and I just did.  Don’t be a sore loser.”
“Oh my god.” 
Your exchange passes with far less animosity than usual.  You still side-eye each other while dealing with your respective dicks.  It’s a little easier for him to pull up his pants one-handed than it is for you to wrestle a toy out of an O-ring, but you do succeed.  You let it roll off the edge of the bed, watching and listening as it thumps onto the floor. 
You look over Seungmin who was watching too.  When you make eye contact, you both start laughing.  It turns the whole scene into an unusually affectionate one.  Figuring you might as well commit, you hold his cuffed hand in your own.  He rolls closer, eying you with those perpetually mischievous eyes.
Then suddenly the bedroom door flies open.  It smashes into the wall, startling both of you. 
Minho walks up to the bed and chucks the keys at you, glares, then turns and leaves the room.  He slams the door shut behind him. 
You and Seungmin look at each other then down at the keys. 
“Told you,” you say. 
“Don’t rub it in.”
“Don’t be a sore loser.”
He licks your cheek unprompted, then unlocks the cuffs while you complain and wipe your face.  It has you so distracted that you are a second too late realizing he has another dastardly plan in mind. 
Your wrist is still cuffed.  He takes the now empty half and clasps it around one of the intricate loops in the headboard.   You tug on it then look at him. 
“Kim Seungmin,” you say. 
“Kim Seungmin,” he repeats in that mocking voice, grinning as he climbs up over you. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” you ask, trying not to smile at his wicked grin as he starts kissing under your chin and down your chest.
“What do you think I’m doing?” he asks.  “I’m winning.”
You decide not to argue for once.   It goes without saying you both won this round. 
2K notes · View notes
didhewinkback · 8 months ago
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likes to watch
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these photos required a blurb out of me sry it took 800 years but heres 4k of smut from the something old universe
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You flicked off the lights of the ensuite, throwing the towel into the hamper as you headed over to the floor length mirror in the corner of the bedroom, lotion in hand. It’s been a long week, culminating tonight with what felt like the longest work dinner of your life, capped off with desperately needed drinks with the only two coworkers who get it. 
You barely saw Harry all week, two ships passing in the night as you dealt with extensive crises at work and he spent his days doing his unemployed side quests. He had texted you once the show was out, seeing if you wanted him to pick you up on his way back but you were already home by then, hopping in the shower to scrub the corporate small talk away. You tightened the rope on your robe and took a deep breath, more than ready to be in that bed and as far away from this week as possible.
You heard the front door open, immediately followed by his whistling. It was a tune you didn’t recognize but it still brought a smile to your face, the impact the show he just saw had on him seemingly immediate, even if he wasn’t conscious of it. His whistling is almost instantly drowned out by Sammy’s barks, and you can almost picture the scene as you hear it. Him crouching to greet the dog, his “‘s only me, Sammy! Just saw you a couple hours ago mate, ‘m not back from war” before a softer “yeah, yeah I missed you too.”
You place the lotion on the dresser, squirting it into your palm and rubbing it into your face and neck as you listen to him coo at the dog. It’s a few minutes before you hear his footsteps down the hallway, his knuckles on the door as he pushes it open and you look over at him, almost choking on air when you get a sight of him as he leans against the doorway, smiling over at you. 
He looked good. 
The beard and hair both growing in nicely, the mullet look you were tentative about at first really doing wonders on you now. And the fit? 
The fit.  
The blazer over the tight fitted tee, tucked into trousers that made his legs look like they went on for days. You couldn’t help gaping a bit, your eyes roaming up and down as you got a good look. 
“Like the fit?” he asks with a laugh, your grin widening as you lock eyes. 
“Love the fit.” you say, your eyes snagging on the words emblazoned across his chest, squinting as you try to read the lettering. “What’s the shirt say?”
He smirks, keeping his shoulder pressed against the doorframe as he uses his free hand to pull one of the lapels of the jacket open, helping you read the words 'I like to watch'.
You huff a laugh, smirking as you look back at his face, eyes staring back at you with a twinkle, a glint, and not an ounce of shame. 
“Cheeky,” you murmur and if possible, his smirk only deepens, your stomach twisting. You just stand there, staring at each other for a few moments. “You look fucking fit.”
“So do you.” he says, eyes simmering as they sweep slowly down your body.
“Me?” you ask incredulously, looking down at yourself. “I’m wearing your old robe.”
“Meant what I said,” he shrugs, unbothered as he pushes off the doorframe and makes his way over to you. 
His hands come up to frame your face as he leans in to kiss you, stealing a few in rapid succession before pulling away and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you close. You wind your arms around his neck, holding on as he rubs a hand up and down your back, pressing a kiss to your temple before pulling back to look at your face. “Hi.”
“Hi.” you say, leaning up to kiss him again. “Missed you this week.”
“Me too. You had a long week, huh? How was that dinner?” he asks, snorting a laugh when you make a face. “That bad?”
“Three of us immediately ran to a different pub the second it was over because we so desperately needed to talk shit,” you say, feeling warm down to your toes when he honks out a laugh. “The ballet was good?”
“So good,” he says, pulling a hand from your waist to brush a strand of hair behind your ear, brushing the backs of his fingers against your cheek before pressing a kiss there. “Really inspiring. The movement and the music - just the way they use their bodies to tell a story, express an emotion. Made me think about how much I need to stretch.” 
You snort.
“Made me think about more than that, y’ ninny.” he says, pinching your chin between his index finger and thumb when you laugh. “‘M just saying, It really moved me in a way art hasn’t in a while, so I’m excited to see what comes from it.” 
“Mmm, me too,” you say, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “You haven’t called me a ninny since we were, like, 12.”
“Felt right in the moment,” he says with a smirk and you laugh, shaking your head before reaching for the lotion on the dresser and he whines when you move out of his embrace.
“I’m almost done,” you say, “Just be two seconds.”
You lift your leg, resting it on the pouf beside you and you hear his sharp intake of breath when the sides of your robe fall back, revealing the skin of your naked thigh. You go to squirt the lotion onto your hands when his hand clasps around your wrist.  
“Let me do that,” he says quietly, taking the lotion from your hands as he presses a slow, soft kiss to your cheek. 
He sits down on the pouf, looking up at you with a warmth in his eyes, the promise of more. He taps his thigh, before curling his hand around your calf, bringing it up so your foot rests on his thigh, your knee in line with his shoulder. He smooths his hand over your skin, your breath catching in your throat as he leans in to press his lips to your thigh. He closes his eyes, taking a shuddering breath and losing himself in the moment, as he slowly drags his lips up along your skin.  He pulls back after pressing a kiss to your knee, squirting lotion on his hands before working them up your legs, rubbing it into the smooth skin, kneading the muscles. You have to reach out a hand to hold on to his shoulder for support as his hands move up under the robe, before sliding back out. 
He places your foot on the floor and grabs the other, giving it the same treatment, taking his time to kiss up along your inner thigh before he works the lotion into your skin, fingers digging into the muscles until they loosen under his touch. You can’t take your eyes off him, feeling your breath quicken as he moves his hands over your skin, eyes not wavering from yours as he goes higher and higher, just shy of where you suddenly need him the most. 
He smirks when you deflate slightly as he puts your other foot on the ground though he immediately makes up for it by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you in between his legs, lips twitching at your sharp intake of breath. He rests his chin on your belly, looking up at you. You bring a hand up to drag through his hair and he leans into the touch, his hands holding you tight before loosening their hold, slowly moving up and down the robe, squeezing as he goes. He presses a kiss to the terry cloth fabric covering you before pulling at the tie, sighing happily when it comes undone, the robe falling open to reveal your naked body underneath. 
He leans in slow, taking his time to kiss along your belly as his beard scratches your skin. His hand slides up to grope at your breast, arousal pooling in your stomach when you feel his tongue dart out against your stomach. He groans when your hand tightens in his hair as he switches hands, bringing one hand to grope at your bum while the other works over your other breast. Christ. You just stand there, practically panting as he makes you melt underneath his hands and mouth, taking his time to suck a mark by your ribs. 
“Missed you so much this week,” he murmurs against your skin. “My hard working girl.” 
He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you down into this lap and burying his face into your neck, kissing a slow line up your neck.
“Smell so nice,” he murmurs, his hot breath making you squirm, your naked thighs sliding on his trousers. “Feel so soft and warm.”
His lips find their way up your jaw, nose brushing against your temple as he presses a slow kiss to your cheek, his hands slowly moving up and down your body, getting lower with each pass.
“Is this what the ballet inspired then?” you ask, breath catching when his hands knead your bum.
“No, this is all you, darling,” he murmurs against your cheek. “It’s always all you.”
His index finger draws back and forth on your jaw before turning your mouth towards his. He brushes his nose against yours, once, twice, wide grin breaking out when you let out a frustrated whine. His hand cups your face as he presses his lips to yours. It’s been mere minutes since he last kissed you, but it somehow feels like ages, both of you inhaling sharply at the contact before pressing in for more. Your hand sliding up into his hair as his mouth opens, his tongue rolling over yours in a smooth pass, making your thighs clench against his. Each kiss somehow deeper than the last, each of you pouring all you have into every kiss, every swipe of tongue, every lingering press of lips until you’re both gasping for breath. 
“Need to touch you.” He pants against your cheek before taking your mouth again.
“Please - oh.” you gasp against his lips as his hands trail down your body, inching closer and closer to where you’re wet for him before he freezes, stopping suddenly. 
“I - fuck. I’ve still got lotion on my hands.” he says breathlessly. “Trying to be sexy but don’t want to - like if I stick these inside you, I’m gonna give you an infection or summat.”
“Oh my god,” you laugh, feeling his stomach shake with laughter as he mutters apologies against your temple.
“Ruined the moment haven’t I?”
“A bit of a dip in the momentum, I’d say” you say and he sputters a laugh.
“Just let me - gonna wash my hands. Just don’t want to - feel like that would be itchy later on down the road.” he says and you groan before laughing again. “Sorry, darling - sorry  - just give me a mo.” 
He kisses you quickly before sliding you off his lap and shuffling to the ensuite as you take a deep breath, the unexpected break making you aware of your racing heart, the ache between your thighs. You can hear the sink and his frantic scrubbing, shaking your head as you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, huffing a laugh as you take in the sight, the open robe, the messy hair, the sections of your neck where your skin’s been rubbed raw by his beard. 
You hear the sink turn off, can hear his footsteps making their way back into the room and turn to face him. He stops in his tracks when you look at him, murmuring “wow” before shaking his head slightly and closing the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your waist once more.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to kill the vibe. But ‘m all clean now, ready to just -” he pauses, jabbing his two fingers in the air, his eyes twinkling with mirth, “get up inside you now.”
“Jesus Christ.” you honk out a laugh as he tightens his hold on you, giggling into your neck. 
“Sorry, sorry, sorry” he apologizes through giggles. “Had y’ right where I wanted yeh a few minutes ago, let’s get back to that, yeah? Let me make you feel good.”
He leans in, lips brushing against yours as he mumbles “Back to our regularly scheduled programming” that has you laughing against his mouth. 
“You are so stupid.” you say before he shushes you and quiets you with kisses, pressing his lips to yours firmly before sucking on your bottom lip. He dives back in for more, licking into your mouth slowly, letting you fall back into the rhythm you were in before only this time it's more charged somehow. He’s a man on a mission as he pulls away from your mouth, kissing down your neck, his tongue darting out for a taste. 
“Yeah but y’ love me, right?” he murmurs, lips dragging against your skin. “Y’ think I’m funny? That I look nice?”
You hum noncommittally as he pulls you closer, though you find yourself taking in his outfit once more, eyes scanning him from top to bottom, snagging on the parts you like best. When you look back up at him, his eyes are dark, hungry, his jaw clenched as he brings a hand up to cup your face.
“Do y’ have any idea how you look at me when y’ like what I’m wearing?” he says, practically growling, his eyes lit up in the way they get when he’s got his mind set on something, a chill rushing down your spine at the thought of that something being you. “Not even sure if I can describe it…makes me feel like I’m on fire.”
He pinches your chin between his index finger and thumb, holding you in place as he claims your mouth, taking his time to kiss you so thoroughly your head spins.
“Sometimes when I’m, like, nervous about an outfit, I’ll picture your face seeing me in it,” he says when he pulls away. “The way you look at me - the way you devour me with your eyes. Makes me feel like I can do anything. Y’ make me feel so good about myself, the way you want me.”
“I do - I do want you” you say breathlessly, his confession making your heart race, the never ending pattern of his hands and mouth making arousal pool in your stomach. You’re needy and wet -
“Gonna show me?” he murmurs against your mouth, smirking when you nod. “Me too. Gonna show y’ how much I want you. How much I always want you. I always -”
You moan, cutting him off with a hard kiss, your tongue swiping over his in a way that has him groaning into your mouth. You pull him impossibly closer, your hands sliding up his blazer covered arms and over his shoulders, weaving your hand into his hair as you sink deeper into the kiss. 
He pulls away slowly, panting as he kisses your jaw slowly, tongue darting out to taste your skin.
“Turn around,” he mutters lowly, spinning you in his hold until your back is against his chest, his hands splaying across your stomach. You look up to see that you’re both now facing the mirror. 
Oh. 
“Let’s get this off,” he murmurs, pulling the robe up and off your shoulders, letting it crumple in a pile at your feet. He pulls your body up against his as he hooks his chin over your shoulder, running his hands up and down your body. His eyes dragging up and down your reflection, feeling like molten lava as they take you in. “God, look at you.”
The momentary instinct to look away from the mirror, to hide from the reflection of your naked body is immediately overpowered by the sight you see, your naked body against him in his suit, his clutches turning white knuckled in desperation as he drags his mouth along your neck, mumbling praise into your skin without ever breaking eye contact with you. Where this should be a vulnerable situation, instead you feel dead sexy. Amost turned inside out with how much you want, how much you need him. You can feel how much he wants you, how he’s already hard for you, just from this. You can see it in his eyes, feel it in his touch. And fuck if it’s not the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. 
Your chest is heaving as he pauses his ministrations, resting his hands on your lower belly before bringing one up to clutch at your jaw, instantly covering your mouth with his. You wind your arm around his neck, hand grasping at the hair at the nape as he groans into your mouth, fingertips sinking into your skin. 
He slides his hand down and you gasp against his mouth as you feel his fingers sliding through your folds.
“Fuck - feel that?” he groans as his fingers lightly circle your clit, your hips twitching towards his touch. “I know, I know. Gonna take care of you, baby.”
He kisses you deeply once more, before pulling away and guiding your head back to face the mirror. 
“But I want you to watch.”
He hooks his chin over your shoulder, dark eyes never wavering from yours as he draws circles on your clit, kissing you on the shoulder when you moan. 
“Yeah - let me hear you,” he groans as he continues to draw circles on your clit, increasing his pressure the more sounds you make. 
Your stomach burns with arousal, feeling a deep ache in between your thighs as he teases his fingers over your entrance before bringing them back up to your clit. He does this over and over, smirking at you in the mirror before you finally break, a whimpered “please” that has him clenching his eyes shut for a moment. Seeing his reaction in the mirror makes you just about lose your mind. You slide your hand up his arm, clutching at the muscles that flex beneath your palm as the fire burns in your belly. 
“‘M right here, baby. I got you.” he murmurs, resting his cheek against your temple, facial hair scratching into your skin as he dips his fingers lower, sliding two fingers into you with ease. “Fuck - all this for me?”
You nod, barely able to swallow back a moan as he works you over with his fingers, fucking them into you deeper before he reaches the spot that makes you cry out. 
“Fuck, H -” 
“That’s it,” he groans, his palm rubbing over your clit as he curls his fingers deeper. You’re practically soaking his hand but can’t bring yourself to care, not when he’s looking at you like that, not when he’s making you feel this good. You can feel your abdomen tighten, knees weakening as he brings you closer and closer to your high. He presses his palm down hard on one particular stroke that has you shutting your eyes and leaning your head back before he tuts. 
“Eyes on me, baby. Want you to look at me when you come.” He smacks a kiss to your temple when you open your eyes. “‘S my girl.”
He doubles down on his efforts and what was once a slow burn is now a raging fire. Your eyes never waver from his as he murmurs endless streams of praise into your ear. You’ve never been so on display and you’ve never felt hotter as you hurtle closer and closer to the edge. You can barely make sense of the sounds you’re making, trying desperately to keep your eyes open, finding yourself transfixed by the way his brow is furrowed in concentration, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as his eyes never move from your reflection, sheer determination as he takes you apart. 
Your chest heaves as you try to get a breath in but he’s overwhelming all your senses. You clench down on his fingers and it’s the guttural groan you get in response that sends your right over the edge with a curl of his wrist. You see stars as you come, hand sliding along his jacket sleeve as he mutters praise into your ear, working you through your high until you’re batting his hand away. 
You watch breathlessly as he slides his fingers out and brings them up to his mouth, eyes locking with yours as he sucks, moaning at the taste. You spin in his hold, crashing your lips to his as you wrap your arms around your neck. His hands immediately adjust, big palms squeezing your bum as he kisses you deeper. You slide a hand up into his hair, pulling as he opens his mouth wider and you give as good as you’re getting. You pull your mouth away, moving to kiss along his jaw as you slide a hand down his front, fingers dancing over his pecs before sliding down his abs, smirking when the muscles jolt at your touch.
Without pulling your mouth away from his neck, you unbutton his trousers and slide your hand inside his briefs, sliding your hand along his length, gasping when you feel how hard he is for you. He grunts when you start to stroke him, fingers digging into your skin when you lean up to say in his ear, “Need this inside me.” 
He moans, leaning down to capture your lips with his before walking you backward into the mirror, hand coming up to cradle your head from hitting it. 
“Want it like this,” he mumbles against your mouth, hands coming to squeeze at your hips. “Want y’ against the mirror.”
He spins you around, your chest pressing against the cool glass as he takes a step back and pulls your hips flush against his so that only your hands touch the mirror, your back arching to put you back on complete display, giving you a vantage point of everything. His eyes sear through you as he drags them up and down your form, knuckles clutching and eyes darkening as he visually devours you.
He nudges your heels apart with his foot, spreading you wider as he pulls down his trousers and briefs, just enough to pull himself out. Making no moves to take off any of his clothes. The image alone sends a shiver down your spine.
 You’re so close together, you can feel when he strokes himself a few times, knuckles dragging against your bum. He looks up at you, shaking his head almost in disbelief before leaning in to press kisses along your spine, palms dragging up and down your spine. 
“Look so hot like this,” he mutters, bringing one hand to rest on your hip while the other wraps around his cock, guiding it towards your core. You both moan when he slides the head against your entrance. He taps it against your clit, hand tightening on your hip when you gasp, eyes locking with yours.  “Ready?” 
“Need you.” you moan out and he pushes into you in one swoop, sliding his hand up your back to wrap around your shoulder, pulling you back as he thrusts forward.
“Christ,” he groans, taking it slow as he thrusts into you steadily, letting you get used to the stretch. “Feel so fucking good.” 
You lock eyes in the mirror as you push your hips back, meeting his thrust halfway, brow furrowing as his mouth drops open from the feel. His grip on your shoulder tightens and suddenly, It’s hard and fast instantly, the sound of your skin slapping against each other reverberating through the room. You can’t take your eyes off his reflection. The clench of his jaw, the vein in his neck bulging as he pulls you back onto his cock over and over. 
Your hands slip on the glass with the force of his thrusts, fire licking up your spine at the reflection in front of you. The way his muscles bulge under his clothes, the way his clothes look against your naked body. The way every clash of your hips punches out a sound from him that makes your stomach twist, how a particular circle of your hips has his eyes rolling into the back of his head. 
“Prettiest thing I’ve seen all night. Love watching you. ” he grunts out, brushing your hair away from your sweaty nape, letting the cool air hit it before wrapping his palm around the back of your neck, fingers digging into your skin. “Gonna make me come. Y’close?”
You nod, words failing as each drive of his hips brings you racing to your finish for the second time tonight. 
“Touch yourself for me, baby. C’mon.” he murmurs. “Wanna watch you come on my cock.”
No sooner are the words out of his mouth than you’re bringing your hand to your clit, rubbing fast circles that have you practically whimpering. He’s muttering encouragement as you struggle to keep your eyes open. His hand slipping from the back of your neck to the front. One squeeze is all it takes for you to come, feeling your walls flutter around his cock as you moan.
“So good for me. Such a good girl.” he grunts, squeezing his hand around your neck once more as he pistons his hips, before moaning lowly, coming hard as you feel him spill inside you, squeezing your neck as he collapses onto your back. He places on hand next to yours on the mirror for support, panting against your head as he catches his breath. His hand not on the wall dragging up and down your spine, pressing kisses to your shoulder as you both come down from your high.
He squeezes your shoulder before pulling out, tucking himself back into his pants as you push off the mirror, turning to face him. You smile at each other, huffing out laughs before he pulls you towards him, cupping a hand under your jaw as he captures your lips in a kiss, tongue smoothing over yours. 
“That was fucking hot,” he murmurs before claiming your mouth again. You hum in agreement, sliding your hand up and into his hair, fingers looping through sweaty strands as you kiss each other deeper. 
The kisses slow, eventually. Your racing hearts returning to their normal pulses, hands grazing each other’s bodies slower until you both pull back. 
“Do you think that’s how everyone else ended their night at the ballet?” you ask and he barks out a loud laugh, eyes crinkling around the edges as he tilts his head back. 
“Reckon so.” he says, pulling you in closer and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “I gotta take Sammy out.”
“I’ll come with you,” you say, heart flipping when his grin widens. “Just gimme a sec.”
You kiss him quickly before heading off into the bathroom, cleaning yourself up and catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. How well fucked you look. 
You head back out, grabbing an old shirt of his and gym shorts from the dresser, feeling his eyes on you as you quickly get dressed. 
“You’re not going to change?” you ask, looking over at him as he shrugs.  
“My girl likes my fit. Trying to see if I can get lucky twice in one night,” he says, grin widening as he holds open the door for you, hand on your lower back as you make your way down the hallway. He wraps his arm around your waist, slipping his hand up under your t-shirt, splaying his hand against your belly.
And yeah, he probably will.
---
a/n: did not edit this whatsoever needed to get it out in the world bc i had been working on this for so long. and its absolute filth i could not bring myself to read back. lmk what you think !
taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,
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sugarcubeindulgent · 6 days ago
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Hello! I absolutely adore your writing and was wondering if you could do a Bill x reader first kiss? Preferably fluff? Thx!
velvet ring | bill dickey x genderless!reader
synopsis. after an incident with your parents, you're sitting alone at a park when bill shows up.
⊹ ࣪ ˖ contents. implied abuse. blood mention. fluff. established relationship. homophobic language.
a/n: thank you for the request, anon!
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Nipping at your skin exposed, the air is cold with the Fall season officially drifting into the Winter season. Everything smells like rain and beneath your ass you feel the dew of the grass and wetness of the roots of the tree you sit under soaking through your bottoms. But you don’t really care as your eyes stare up at the gaps through the branches to the sky that’s darkening an already gloomy atmosphere. There’s a hot pain through your nose that you’re unable to be distracted from, not even the music drifting through your earbuds from the portable CD player on your lap. The wet atmosphere has the blood staining your mouth and chin not yet dry, when you reach up and wipe at the itchy feeling you wince while blood smears on the back of your hand and across your cheek.
Slightly puffy eyes open and just as you ponder what you’ll do for the night when it comes, your eyes widen and you sit up. Bill’s eyes widen behind his glasses when he takes in the sight of your face. Bill. He’s standing in front of you with his crossbody bag on and a sweater over his usual blazer and geeky shirt. Swallowing hard, you quickly tug out your earbuds in time to hear him mutter a soft “shit…”. Ignoring it, you shake your head with confusion rattling around in your brain as he walks over to you.
“What are you doing here?”,you ask as he sits down beside you, grimacing a bit when the water soaks through his khaki pants no doubt.
Bill looks at you with a deep frown, looking at you like you’re stupid. But when his eyes look at the blood on your face and glassiness in your eyes, he looks away and shakes his head while opening his crossbody bag. “You called me earlier, remember?” You do. But you told him never mind when you could hear him with the other guys, all of them arguing because you hadn’t shown up to the campaign. Bill yelled at you too. His greenish-brown eyes flicker along your face, then he shakes his head and tugs out a crumpled pack of tissues to hold out to you. “You said “never mind it’s stupid”, I know what that means by now.”
Your eyes begin to sting again. Furrowing your eyebrows a bit as the thickness begins to swell in your throat, you take the tissues and begin to clean your face while you look away. A warm feeling spreads through your chest under Bill’s odd lack of selfishness and overall asshole-ness. “I’m sorry I didn’t show up for the campaign.”,you apologize with a shake of your head while the music is a bit distant, bleeding through your cheap earbuds.
“Yeah you really fucked us. But whatever, we all blamed Jerry anyway.”,remarks Bill. His voice is still harsh.
Maybe it’s weird but you only really like being around Bill during these moments. The other members seem to pity-fuck you, treat you with kid gloves until the injuries aren’t visible. Bill’s uncomfortable, you always know it but he’s never pitying you. He’s just himself. Usually so annoying and irritating, it’s so welcomed when you’re still reeling from being beaten like you’re a grown adult. Laughing a bit as bloody tissues gather beside you, you shake your head and look to Bill who’s already watching you with a bit of redness at the tip of his nose and on his cheeks.
“You guys need to stop fucking with Jerry so much. He might turn on all of us and kill us one day.”,then you pause,”Or just kill you guys.”
Bill snorts and he shakes his head. “It’s irritating how nice you are to him. He’s a pussy.”
“Because he doesn’t get into fist fights with Josh every fucking meeting.”,you tilt your head with a small smile at Bill,”You’re lucky I’m nice to you at all.” And Bill’s frown falters a bit, he blinks and he looks along your features with parted lips before he exhales something between a scoff and chuckle. You wet your lips, the air between you two suddenly feels a little weird but you don’t necessarily mind it, it makes your palms tingle a bit. “Why did you come, Bill?” The question leaves your lips too quickly, you can’t pull it back as the final bloody tissue is set onto the small crumpled pile.
He stiffens a bit, he looks down at the bloody pile of tissues then he looks at your CD player. Finally he meets your eyes and his eyebrows furrow. He almost looks angry, then again he always does but this expression is something that you’ve seen a few times. Usually when you’re being nice to him and he’s trying to not bite your hand like some dumb, scared dog. For a moment you think he’s going to bite, snap at you, and be a jackass like he so often is and you so often have to look past. Then he exhales deeply and snatches the tissues from your hand.
“When I was sick for that week you brought me my homework.”,he begins as he pulls out a tissue and leans forward. His hand begins to clean the blood off of your face that you must’ve missed. Your eyebrows furrow, he’s heavy-handed and it hurts a bit but you’re a bit too stunned to stop him or tell him to relax. “You were the only one who came to see me…updating me about the campaign and bringing me fucking soup and–I–” Bill inhales in frustration and he slowly lowers his hand while looking from your bloody nose to your eyes with his own eyes darting behind his frames. “You’re always so…*nice*.”
The word leaves his lips in disgust.
Bill shakes his head and he huffs in frustration, his hands are shaking in balled up fists on his lap now as his expression screws in anger. “I mean I ended up getting you sick and I only yelled at you for fucking up the campaign. You check on me first whenever fatso starts a fight, you–you defend me when I–fuck you’re just so fucking nice but your life is so fucked up and my life wasn’t – I–” You’re blinking in surprise, he seems to be rambling and pouring words that must’ve been lodged somewhere in him for a while now. Those feelings you’ve been ignoring begin to claw up from the dirt in you as you eye him. “I don’t know why I came.”,he finally answers what you asked,”Now I just sound like a fucking girl. Like some faggot.”
There’s a long silence. You lean closer towards him. “Bill?” Bill swallows hard before he turns and looks at you. You look at his lips, a small scar through the upper lip then you lean in and kiss him. It’s not a big kiss, it isn’t a kiss like the one you’ve wanted to give him for a long time for some fucking reason. It’s just a kiss where your lips press to his. You hear him gasp, but then he leans in and his lips press to yours. Your entire chest blooms with warmth and your stomach tingles when you hear him almost whimper.
Pulling away, you only separate enough to not be kissing anymore. Your eyes look along his features and you notice how red his face is, his eyes are the softest you’ve seen them and he’s breathing a bit heavily. Blinking, you pull your lips between your teeth and you stifle a snicker which makes that familiar angry expression return to his face. “You’re so re–” And then he shoves the side of your face to push you hard with a grunt.
“You kissed me! Out of nowhere I–my body is–it’s just a biological–fuck!”,he swears, unable to even finish a sentence without his voice cracking. You’re laughing, rubbing the side of your face while you turn and look at him. He’s put some distance between you two. Bill huffs in annoyance, looking down before he looks at you and he shakes his head. “I–Why did you–” He swallows hard and clears his throat when his voice cracks.
You look along his features, smile falling a bit and you shake your head with a bit of a sheepish smile. “Just felt right.” You nod. “It was my first kiss, was it bad?”
“How would I kn–” Bill blinks, his face seems to go brighter and he looks away angrily. It was his first too. Then again, that doesn’t surprise you. “It wasn’t the worst.” You smile a bit at his form of compliment, then he shakes his head and keeps his face away from you. “But don’t do it again. That’s gross.”
You see how red his ears are, how he’s shifting and holding his bag over his crotch. Your face gets warm and you force a small laugh.
“Okay, I won’t.” Then you look at Bill and down to your CD player. With a deep inhale, the atmosphere charged and buzzing, you hold out an earbud once you elbow him. The chestnut-haired boy looks from your earbud to you and he frowns, you roll your eyes. “I know you hate music like a freak, but just – do you want to?” Bill looks at your lips, his eyebrows twitch and he snatches the earbud.
Shoulder to shoulder, you place the earbud in before you press play. Your lips tingling and the pain in your face gone. When Bill speaks again, as if he's pulling his teeth out, you don't look at him.
"We can go back to my house when-when you're ready." He then scoffs. "Your music taste is shit."
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thesunloveschips · 4 months ago
Text
Obsessed - Part 2 (Azriel x Reader)
Summary: Y/n gets even more horny. Meanwhile, Azriel is horny, obsessed, and is busy taking notes for their future home.
A/n: Comment if you want to be a part of the taglist because this is going to be a series!!
Warnings: reader's fantasies, Azriel's forearms, Azriel's fingers, Azriel's hands, Azriel's fantasies, too many thoughts about sex, Azriel being more delusional than reader.
Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)
****
Y/n did not understand how she did not faint when Azriel rolled up his sleeves when the meals were served in the flight because what in the everloving fuck were those forearms made of? 
They were so huge and thick and veiny and she wanted that hand on her throat. 
Why wouldn’t she?
She was a reasonable and prudent woman after all. 
“Y/n?” Azriel called. 
She smiled sheepishly. “Got lost in my head for a while.” 
He smiled faintly and Y/n felt lighter as if he soul was ready to leave her body. This man should stop being so handsome for the sake of her sanity. 
“Your meal.” He motioned his head and she looked down at the tray that he had settled while she was busy drooling over his forearms. 
“Thank you.” She smiled at him. And Azriel nodded. Y/n rolled up her sleeves, tied her hair quickly, and they began eating. 
From the corner of her sight, she saw Azriel’s hands as they did something extraordinary. 
He used the knife to spread butter.
Y/n suddenly found that she was quite similar to that butter. 
Because the way she would spread for this man was no joke . 
And. . .
And. . . 
And. . . his fingers had tattoos. 
Gods, she could imagine how he’d fuck here with his fingers. 
They were long fingers and he had large hands and Y/n could picture herself riding his fingers, begging for his cock and his mouth near her ear, whispering dirty promises. 
She’d beg. She could imagine herself being shameless, begging him to fuck her so hard she’d cry and bite the pillow. 
Y/n looked at her own butter and felt her cheeks warm up. She was ready to combust. 
Sadly, he was spreading the butter and not her. Not that he’d have to put in any effort. She’d spread for him all on her own. 
She was sitting next to the sexiest man she’d ever seen and he was determined to be so kind and friendly. 
She was wet and going to the washroom repeatedly to change panty liners was going to make it seem like she had some other kind of problem. 
She couldn’t even call up Nesta even if she went to the bathroom because. . . why was she  even in an aeroplane? 
Y/n was this close to having a nosebleed like an anime character. 
She was a pervert and there was no denying it. Not when this man was sitting right next to her.
Being delusional with Nesta after reading a lot of smut definitely gave her mental peace. 
If she fainted, would Azriel carry her in those huge, strong arms? If he did, she’d probably get up, see his handsome face, and faint again. 
****
The flight was very nice. Azriel enjoyed a nice conversation with Y/n before their meal. After that, it did not take her too long to fall asleep. 
Her head was against the window of the plane and he did not like that one bit. 
Offended, Azriel carefully brought her head and made it lean against his arm. He sat back, proud of himself for supporting Y/n like this. 
He wrapped his blazer over her. She let out a sleep-laced hum and clutched his arm. 
Yes. 
She was now clutching his arm like this. 
Soon, she’d hold his arm at their wedding. 
And she’d leave nail scratches on his arms when he fucked her senseless. 
Something soft was against his arm. He looked at her, trying not to seem like a pervert but then he saw her breasts pressed against his arm. 
Oh. 
Yes.
The same breasts he’d fondle and suck. 
Which would bounce as she rode him like the goddess she was. 
His future wife and his future pillows.
Yes. 
Life was sorted. 
****
It was one thing to meet him. Another to have enough time to properly make his acquaintance. Another to be in the same flight. 
As they headed to collect their baggage and when Y/n discovered that Azriel would reside in the same building as her, she really couldn’t believe it.
Was this really fate or something like it? 
Drawing them closer and closer?
Was it her destiny to have her fantasies of this man fulfilled?
Y/n really needed to call Nesta and scream about this. So she made an excuse about needing the washroom. She quickly texted her best friend when the bitch had the audacity to not pick up her calls.
Y/n: Met the hot guy from the club at the airport. We had breakfast. Same flight and seated next to each other. And he’ll be living in the same building for the duration of his business trip. 
Nesta was not even online. Y/n quickly pocketed her phone and left the washroom. Azriel was waiting for her, looking so handsome and graceful and immaculate as though an early morning flight did not tire him out. 
She took a few seconds to admire him from a distance before walking over. But before she reached him, a woman had walked over and started talking to him. 
Azriel watched the woman impassively, said something, and resumed looking at his phone. The woman walked away dejectedly and Y/n guessed she must’ve asked him for his number.
Curiosity made her ask. “Do you know that woman?”
He replied, still tapping away a message to someone. “I’ve never met that woman in my life. My car is here. How will you commute?” 
“She seemed a little upset. I’ll probably book a cab.”  
“I refused to give her my phone number.” He paused to ponder and then looked at her very seriously. “Come with me, Y/n.”
“What?” She sputtered. Y/n was more than ready to come on his cock or mouth or fingers. 
“We have the same destination. Come with me. My car is already here.” Oh. His car. Okay. 
“Oh. Um. If it’s all right then I’ll take you up on that offer. Thank you.” She cheered herself at being able to spend more time with Azriel. 
“Why wouldn’t it be all right?” He took her ridiculously large trolley and looked at her, ready to exit the airport.
“It’s your business trip. I’m assuming the office sent that car.” Y/n took his smaller sized trolley instead, glaring at him when he extended a hand to take that too. “At least, let me take this.”
Azriel nodded, his features softening. 
She then continued. “So it’s for official purposes. Not for personal use.”
“I’ll handle it if anything comes. You need not worry about anything.” 
Y/n felt fluttery. Had  she wanted to hear those words in another context? Especially after how her life has turned into a shit show right after she’d finished her bachelors? 
And Azriel had said that so naturally. As if he would handle anything and free her from worries. 
Gods, she’d cry then and there. 
Y/n closed her eyes and smiled softly. “All right. Thank you.”
“You tell me if you have any problems. We’re neighbours. We’ll navigate the new city together. All right? That means you rely on me. Okay?” He looked at her seriously. 
And she found it charming that he’d ask such a thing. “Doesn’t that mean you rely on me too?”
“If you’d let me.” They reached the car and the sight of Azriel lifting that ridiculously heavy suitcase like it was nothing drove her crazy. 
“Of course, you can. I make good food. And I’m great company if you ever want to just sit down and enjoy the silence.” He opened the door for her. Once Y/n was all settled in the car, he closed the door and entered from the other side.
Azriel turned to the driver and gave him the address and then turned his head to look at her. “People usually don’t advertise their company to enjoy the silence. I’ve heard them do that for talking or going out.” 
“Well, I don't go out much. And I’m not always talkative. So, silences. . . are a necessity.”
“Yes.” He paused and looked at her face thoughtfully. “Thank you.” He smiled. 
Y/n smiled back and looked at the window as naturally as she could pretend because this man seriously needed to give her a break from his perfect face. 
Why was he smiling? Why was he so handsome? She would’ve probably choked on her food if she were eating. 
****
This was becoming a problem. It wasn’t the first time someone had approached him for his number. But now that he’d met Y/n, he had to do something.
And then the solution struck him as he saw Y/n returning to him from her trip to the washrooms.
He needed to marry Y/n so that he’d have a wedding band for people to see and back off. 
Yes. The solution was so simple. 
Now that he thought of it, a lot of things would be sorted if he married Y/n. 
Now, how was he to move forward with that? 
“Azriel?” He wanted her voice to be a constant in his life. The way she said his name.
He’d learnt a lot about her by talking to her than any report could ever tell him. Appreciating silences was not something that could be reported. 
Yes.
Y/n was perfect. 
Now, how soon could he reveal to her that he was hers and she was his and give legitimacy to this by marriage? 
****
They’d reached the building and received the keys from the security guard. And their flat was opposite each other’s. 
Coincidence?
Azriel would spit at the idea. 
There was nothing such as fate or coincidence. It was all about who picked up their lives and wrote the script. There would be unavoidable factors but how he responded to them was well within his control. 
Azriel had picked up his script and written his fate. And signed the sale deed to this building. 
Now that they reached their floor, Y/n looked at their doors and then at him. “We’re neighbours.” She sounded relieved. 
“Yes.” Of course they were neighbours. He ensured that much.
“Thank you.” She turned to him and Azriel was now truly confused. “I’m glad I know someone in this new city. It’s an additional bonus to be neighbours. I might disturb you sometimes.”
Azriel had bought this building to be close to her. Being wanted and needed by Y/n was his real objective. 
He looked at the walnut door behind Y/n. It was a nice door. Looked sturdy enough to not break while he fucked his woman against it. 
“Do you want to go grocery shopping later?” He asked. It was pathetic how he wanted her as close as possible because being her neighbour wasn’t nearly enough.
“Yeah.” And then she yawned. He had half a mind to hoist her and put her to bed himself. “I’ll meet you in a couple of hours?” 
“Of course.” He chuckled. “Here’s my number.” Azriel handed her a card. A fake visiting card he’d gotten printed so that she wouldn’t know he didn’t simply work at Umbra. 
“Is WhatsApp convenient?”
“Yes.” And they parted ways. 
Azriel looked at his apartment. It was not as fancy as the accommodations he’d gotten used to after taking over Umbra but definitely better than what the illegitimate bastard had from birth to college. 
He pulled out a notepad and a pen and began thoroughly inspecting the apartment. 
The walls were a serene pale blue. As he’d asked, his apartment had simple and elegant furnishing. His own room was painted navy blue. 
He’d soon pay Y/n a visit and check if everything in her apartment was perfect. And if it wasn’t then the interior designer and the cleaners had him to answer to. 
His bathroom was good. The washbasin and the mirror looked like yet another place he’d fuck her at. The shower cubicle was a little compact for both of them but the tub was a masterpiece.
He noted the size of the cubicle as something he’d need to remedy for when they purchased their home in the future. 
Azriel could picture it as he positioned Y/n on all fours. How he’d tease her with his cock, and enter her with enough force that would push her body. 
He frowned. 
Azriel walked over and inspected the size of the tub and its attachment to the walls. there was a huge chance of Y/n hitting her head against the wall or her head being pushed into the water in the tub. He noted that. 
The tub was very conveniently placed next to a window. He looked out and a more domestic vision came to mind. 
Azriel and Y/n, a bubble bath, two glasses of wine, scented candles, and a conversation about how their respective days had been. 
Yes. 
And maybe they’d make sweet love here, with her riding him, kissing the side of his neck and face, whimpering and moaning softly. And then he’d grab her ass and pull her back down on his cock. 
The windowsill was all right. One of them could sit there as the other went down on them but the edge of it did not seem comfortable. Another point to be noted. 
And so, Azriel went ahead and noted everything that he’d have to keep in mind for renovation purposes. 
His phone rang and he picked it up. He’d asked his secretary to purchase yet another something and they went over the details before he gave his approval.  
****
They went to the nearest supermarket as planned and ended up dining outside since neither of them wanted to make any food after a day of travel. 
“Why’d you come so early if your classes begin after four days?” It would seem to any normal person that he was making polite conversation with a tinge of curiosity. 
But Azriel was actually trying to get information about her travel preferences and choices so that he’d customise their future travels accordingly. 
He personally had no work in this country because he could work Umbra from any part of the world with a stable internet connection.
“It’s a little quirk of mine.” Y/n began. Azriel was now intensely interested. “When I go to other places, I go a couple of days early so that I’ll have time to settle in. The only exception is probably a holiday.” 
He took a sip of his wine and waited for her to continue. “Like if my classes begin on Monday, I prefer to reach by Friday or Saturday so I’ll have enough time to settle down in my accommodation, clean, arrange my things, go grocery shopping, and so on. So by the time Monday comes, I’m not worrying over where the things are or what am I going to eat or anything like that.”
Ah, yes. 
His Y/n was a practical woman. 
They’d be entering a very happy marriage. 
They’d raise good children like this. 
He suddenly felt a dash of pride at not just Y/n but also for himself. He’d not wasted a moment in getting to know this woman. 
Who knows what he’d have done if he did the foolish thing of mistaking her to be a random passerby? 
Probably rot around with no purpose in life. 
His mother could rest easy. 
After all, he’d found the object of his greatest obsession and darkest desires. 
****
It had been three days since Azriel had properly spent time with Y/n. He was beginning to feel like he had no purpose in this world. 
If he texted or called her, he’d come off as a desperate man with no other work to do than begging for her presence, which he was.
But he had to pretend like he had some dignity before he slowly revealed his real self to her. 
Y/n was a strong woman. Her choices in life proved it. He’d read a comprehensive report about everything related to her. 
The lowlife who once had the rare fortune of being her boyfriend and was stupid enough to hurt her was now caught up in a case of tax evasion. How sad. Moving on.
Azriel looked at the sky and sighed. He could work, read novels, go to the gym, or do anything but. . . where was his Y/n? 
And then a thought struck him.
Had Y/n already considered him someone to keep a distance from? He began analysing their every interaction and couldn’t come up with anything.
He’d always made the impression that he was a reliable, financially well-off, responsible man. 
Or was it that she wasn’t attracted to him? 
Y/n’s choices in men were sadly very poor but none of them compared to him in terms of face or body. 
Wait. . . did she prefer mediocre men with toxic behaviour?
That wouldn’t do. 
His plan was to slowly reveal his real self to her. Being the worst version of himself right from the beginning would scare her. 
Y/n had to know who he was but she also had to know what he felt for her and what he would do for her. As for what he wouldn’t do, such a thing probably did not exist. 
She had to know that she’d be his priority—over his anger, his ego, his pride, his wealth, his life, and. . . what else was there? Basically everything else. 
Azriel ran a hand through his hair and sighed. The sound of the doorbell brought him back to reality. He marched over and opened the door to reveal Y/n with a bowl of lasagna in her hand. 
“May I come in?” What was an apartment when she’d entered his life and engraved her ownership on every inch of his being.
“Yes.” He managed to soften his voice but maybe not his expression because she looked worried as she looked at his face.
“I’m so sorry for not contacting you these three days.” She swiftly began and thrusted the lasagna into his hand. “I was studying and cleaning and I lost track of time and I hope this. . . I mean, I make good food so this is my best. . . My best dish.” 
Y/n was apologetic and embarrassed at the same time. And obviously, like any rational, prudent, sensible man, he found her endearing. 
“Come in, Y/n.” She entered the apartment and he closed the door.
****
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