#FUCK NICE ONE AGAIN BLAZER

[miguelsslvt]

punk! miguel x innocent! reader

word count: 879

TW: nsfw, smoking, hair-pulling, corruption, swearing, creampie.

request: @sukioyakio ★

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.

♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎♥︎♡︎

[seokgyuu]

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

[luveline]

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.”

[skzdarlings]

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. 

[didhewinkback]

likes to watch

these photos required a blurb out of me sry it took 800 years but heres 4k of smut from the something old universe

---

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,

[smuttykdrama]

[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!

"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]

[tteokdoroki]

OCTOBER 1ST. VENOM 

"eyes. lungs. pancreas. so many snacks, so little time."

♱ — katsuki bakugou + monsterfucking.

♱ — synopsis; katsuki’s been a bad fiancé recently, he tries to tell himself that it’s all in his head ( literally ) and when his neglectful behaviour nearly ruins your engagement dinner — he has no choice but to make it up to you, with the help of a little symbiotic friend.

♱ — length; 5K

♱ — warnings; please read for your own safety! mdni, smut 18+, heavy smut, characters aged up to 20s, mentions of eating people, monsterfucking, dry humping, tentacles, overstimulation, pussy jobs, public sex, clothed sex, oral sex ( f!receiving ), pegging ( m!receiving ), fem!reader, venom!bakugou. not beta read !

♱ — notes; waaa!! hello everyone, welcome back to kinktober!! im so happy to be participating again, i hope you all enjoy whats in store for this year. starting with this baddie !! - m.list ₊ kinktober m.list ₊ taglist 𓆩♡𓆪

“just eat her…katsuki…” 

“no, you can fuck right off.” 

“why not? she is unpleasant…katsuki…its not like we like her anyways…” 

for the first time that night, katsuki indulges the mangled voice in his head— listening to the symbiotic alien that sludges through his voice and his body. venom is right. he hates his mother in law, soon to be mother in law, but the practicalities of it all aren’t what matter. red eyes drift to the devil’s incarnation of a woman, traditional yet rude and deserving of a beat down— katsuki thinks. if he could just take a bite, crunch down on the woman’s skull and swallow her whole, all of his problems would be solved.

“goodness, bakugou,” the woman leers with a nasty curl of her sweaty upper lip. “i’m paying for the wedding not for you to be dressed like a complete slob— you look awful, and at my only daughter’s engagement party!” she drones on and if venom were to murder this woman right now, she really would deserve it. 

“see? you are a loser, bakugou.”

he wasn’t dressed that bad, sure, it wasn’t the burgundy blazer and pressed white shirt you’d told him to pick up from the dry cleaners on the way home from work but— it was smart casual, a nice pair of jeans and a smart jacket. you liked that. that’s all that mattered.

bowing his head slightly, bakugou wordlessly apologises before fishing himself out another glass of mercilessly alcohol free fruit punch. “‘m sorry ma’am—“ 

he cuts himself off when your name flitters from between your mother’s lips— the syllables that usually sound so pretty when strung together now ugly tainted by the evil woman. “she deserves so much better than you,” she doesn’t ease up on reminding bakugou of how lucky he is to have bagged you. to love you. “better than a wannabe journalist on a motor cycle.” 

“die… pewny crazy woman—“

bakugou feels the familiar crawl of the venom symbiote across his skin— sharp-edges, dangerous claws reaching out for the wicked woman to snag her head off when he controls himself, controls his little friend and forces his stare back to the catered pile of desserts. 

“venom,” katsuki is barely hanging onto his sanity, voice tainted with exhaustion. it’s like having a child constantly on your back, begging for things that aren’t acceptable for adults. he wonders how he’s been able to put up with this, how you’re able to put up with him. since becoming one with the alien life form— katsuki bakugou has been nothing but neglectful of you…turning his back on you during nights full of romance because he’s scared venom will hurt you, he’s missed cake and wine and menu tasting for the wedding because venom craved a little something meatier and sometimes even more human than whatever you’d been excited to try for your big day. katsuki forgets calls, doesn’t reply to texts— cycles into the night to take care of his little problem when he should be looking after you.

katsuki’s been insufferable; meaner than usual, flakier than he should be and he knows that he’s hurting you— not loving you properly like he should. blaming venom alone  would be the easy way out. yet you stayed, you kept that ring on your finger and put on your best smile, because for some reason you still found it in your too big of a heart to love katsuki even when he didn’t deserve it.

still away with his thoughts, blonde is absent to notice venom popping out— a creepy, sticky black head, to greet a curious child after some of the sweets at this swanky engagement party. “want to play hide and seek? the mouth is a good place to start.” venom’s attempt at a coo is far from comforting, rows of razor sharp teeth covered in alien slobber only frightening the little one more.

“fuck off venom, cut yer crap out or i’ll—“ bakugou waves a hand, pinching the bridge of his nose only to be pulled from his revere by a whimpering child ( now identified as your five year old nephew who still hates his guts ). “oh shit—“

“would you mind not cursing in front of my kid?” your brother hastily appears from absolutely fucking nowhere. shindou is far from impressed, hates bakugou’s guts as does the rest of your family and if he had his way, the blonde wouldn’t have a leg to stand on at the alter with you. “yanno, you might wanna behave yourself tonight? it’s important to my ma, to my sister so if you could—“ 

there’s a burning rage that flickers through bakugou’s veins only heightened by the alien that makes a host out of his body, and it only makes it harder to fight off the urge for manslaughter. “we should eat him too…katsuki…he is getting on my nerves. i am sure he will taste like chicken.” the alien growls from the deep corners of his mind. 

“they do not taste like chicken you stupid fuckin’ lug.” bakugou grunts back. 

and to the outside world, the shitty excuse for a man is talking to himself— getting shindou’s back right up. “what did you just call me?”

“stay outta this, man. s’between me and the dumb fuckin’ alien voice in my head.” 

insane. katsuki bakugou’s little alien friend makes him look absolutely insane. 

and before he can get his ass beat by your brother— you swoop in, slightly flushed from flickering between guests of friends and family all night, there’s smile lines in your makeup, you’re tired in the eyes and you’re still the most beautiful person in the room to bakugou. his heart races when you’re close enough for him to smell your perfume, putting a safe distance between your fiancé and your brother.

you’re angry with him, bakugou can tell by the heat in your gaze when you get shindou far enough from the dessert table— he can feel it in the way it burns against his skin in broad  waves, see it in how you twist on your heel so fast your dress, pretty and off-white like a bride on her wedding day, rides up enough to catch a glimpse of your thighs. it’s shameful to admit, but seeing you so full of rage turns him ( and venom ) on.

“what the hell is going on with you, katsuki?” you bark at him, hands on his chest enough to make the blood rush to his cock, swelling in the pants he’d just managed to throw on for tonight’s event. 

“n-nothin’ sweetheart, ‘m just—“ fuck her katsuki. she’s angry, venom goads. she is pretty when she’s angry. we should fuck her. the blonde shakes his head, trying to rid himself of vulgar thoughts— clearing his mind, focusing on you and how your chest heaves, with annoyance, tucked away in that tight fitting dress that hugs you in all the right places,  as you look up at your fiancé expectantly. fuck. “the only one that’ll be fuckin’er is me, you dumb fuck alien.” 

it’s embarrassing, whatever’s gotten into your fiancé— because tonight was supposed to be special, the one night before your wedding that you could trust him to behave and not make that familiar prickling warmth coil in your core at his vulgar words. your eyes widen in shock and you push again at katsuki’s chest with furrowed brows. 

“kats, please—“ 

shindou squeezes down on your nephew’s ears, hoping it’ll block out whatever filth spills from your lover’s mouth. “that’s my sister! you dipshit, get a grip—“ 

“fuck him too, katsuki…” 

“yo—“ you turn around again, spitting venom ( no pun intended ) at your brother too as you grasp at bakugou’s wrist to pull him from the banquet room you’d booked for tonight’s celebrations. “go check on ma, please? i’ll deal with him.” 

and you exactly that, nagging the man’s ear off as you tug him to the bathroom— tears glittering as pretty as your engagement ring in your eyes under the artificial light. you’re nearly broken at this point, months of being treated so differently, akin to trash possibly, by the man you love most being unleashed on him and the symbiote that sits comfortably in his frame unbeknownst to you. 

“i’m sick of this kats,” you might as well be screaming at this point, your whiny and emotional voice is loud and noisy to the alien. it echoes through the cubical you’ve locked yourselves in and it cranks up the annoyance within venom— and you barely notice katsuki trying to keep him down. “i’ve been good to you all these years, haven’t i? i’ve loved you well enough for you to know that i deserve better than you but i just can’t—!” 

the final straw is when you bang your fist against the cubical wall, the noise rattling the symbiote inside your lover, forcing ink black tendrils to take over his host body and a scream to tear in the base of your throat as katsuki transforms into something you don’t even recognise.

the man towering over you now is built in a suit of sticky, obsidian black— white, and cloudy slits peer into yours in a way that sends shivers down your spine and has your thumping heart leaping into your throat. this isn’t your man, this isn’t your katsuki. horror seeps through your body, takes residence in your veins as the monster grasps at you with claws and tentacles instead of your fiancé’s slightly calloused hands. it dwarfs you more in comparison to bakugou, it makes you scared looking at what it’s made of him as thick slime slides up and down your pretty, blemished skin in ripples. 

“don’t scream.” the rasp you’d come so accustomed to, the one that makes your breath hitch every time he speaks, the one that fills you with butterflies despite the roots of fear wrapping around your heart. it’s him, your katsuki. the tendrils of black have peels back from his pretty face, his ruby gem

eyes send a flicker of comfort through your soul. 

but then he’s gone again and the dark mask takes over— screaming at you at a pitch close to making your ears bleed, and you’re scared again, close to screaming too. it, pools like an oil slick over your mouth, suffocating you like a bird on the surface of oil laden water…but you like it, even as if claws ironically gently at the insides of your mouth. 

“but we like it when she is screaming. katsuki. we are dirty minded.” the creature addresses you, some kind of twisted affection reflecting in the white of its eye.

“venom, i swear to fuck—“

it’s… katsuki’s… venom’s tongue, long and pink darts out to smooth over your face though you quiver, body toppling over with liquid dread. it’s warm, wet and shouldn’t send a spark of lust down your spine making you let out a muffled whimper of confused arousal. 

“mouth…breasts…cunt…so many snacks…so little time.” venom pins you against the wall, pouring over you and invading every inch of your shaky frame— smothering you as it slips under your dainty little dress while you squirm about in it’s hold.

eventually, the ink black peels away from your mouth, only when your muted screams die down. “t-this? katsuki? this is what’s gotten into you?” he’s relieved to see that you’re still filled with anger as you gulp in fresh air between ripping him a new one, he’s completely aware of your growing arousal too. “a parasite! you’ve let a fucking parasite take over your body and ruin our engagement night and now—“ 

venom, is offended, however. “—i  am not a parasite!” he growls. “i am venom, and you are mine.” 

“ours…fuck, i mean mine.” katsuki comments, but he doubts you can hear him through the layers of teeth venom wears while arguing with the symbiote itself. it’s a back and forth, but even during that your fiancé can practically smell how your cunt drools into your barely-there panties— from fear or desire, he can’t care to tell. you’re so wet, and between dealing with venom and not seeing you during wedding prep, the blonde can’t remember the last time he fucked you good and proper. 

it’s been ages, and you look too fucking good tonight.

“we should just take her…katsuki. flood her insides with seed. she is asking for it, like a hunk of meat waiting to be devoured….” 

you squirm against venom’s web like hold, “don’t talk about me like i’m not here you piece of shit! give me back katsuki—!” 

“her pulse has quickened. she is hungry for us.” the voice of venom roars from inside his head, equally as desperate for you as katsuki is. katsuki, in combination with the symbiote, surges forward to kiss you with greedy lips and to press his saliva covered and syrupy  tongue into the heat of your mouth so he can  silence you. it’s big, hefty as it fills you up until there’s drool pooling out and sitting on the corner of your pretty lips. “i like her. more.” 

and then you moan, it sounds like a symphony as your mouth swells with the thickness of the slimy tongue exploring your throat and rolling over your tongue. “we’ve been neglecting’ you, hah, sweetheart?” bakugou, your fiancé, groans against your spit slicked lips— smiling at the way you choke from his tongue retreating from choking you down your oesophagus. “wanna take care of ya, been letting you work yer ass off f’this weddin’,” venom’s strawberry tongue slithers out again like a snake seeking out its pray, leaving a sloppy trace over your neck as if to taste the salt that shimmers like crystals on your skin. 

“i’m getting hungry as well, katsuki.” 

they’re both starving for you, depraved of a meal that is your cunt with your panties tucked between swollen folds. “i-if you think…that you can make it up to me.” your speak hoarsely, throat still raw as you pant and catch your breath, “k-katsuki if you think i can forgive you…”

“let us fuck you, baby. i just— we just wanna feel you. c’mon sweetheart, you trust me yeah? y’missed me so much i know,” all three of you feel it, the way your pussy throbs against venom’s beefy and wet thigh from where he’d shoved it snug between the pair of your own. 

“d-did… i did. m-miss you, oh fuck!” you stutter out as thick digits belonging to your fiancé— thickened even more by venom, brush against your hip, dip beneath your skirt and panties to glide up and down your pussy. bakugou teases your entrance, scissoring two fingers inside of your warmth while you ooze into the seat of his palm and grind against him with wanton. “fuck me. both of you, p-please kats,” you beg, riding his fingers until they’re pulled out of you, coated in juices.

your body admits it before your brain does— that you’ve missed him, he can tell from how your chest naturally arches into the eager hunting path of katsuki’s mouth. your flavour reads sweetness, like salted caramel due to the sweat on your skin— his, venom’s tongue runs a course down your body, the sweetheart neckline of your dress rough on his taste buds before he drools between the swell of your pretty tits. he leaves trails of saliva every inch of you possible.

a patch is licked down the front of your dress— katsuki barely fighting off sharp teeth desperate to tear through the front of it so he can kiss the softness of your tummy. instead, hands large enough to crush a skull stick to the dips and fat at your waist, the doughy-ness of your darling thighs he’s missed so much. 

the black veil of venom peels back as katsuki’s head dips under your flimsy skirt— and he practically moans, huskily at that, upon seeing the crotch of your underwear darker by your ever growing wetness. “must’a really missed me, sweetheart,” a wildfire of lust sweeps over katsuki’s ruby red eyes and he coos deviently, nose nudging against your pulsing clit before venom’s tongue happily comes into play this game of sinful chess. he moves just a touch, mouth pulling wide to split at the sides much like a snake unhinging it’s jaw, and latches onto the entire length of your silken slit. his tongue greedily pokes at your hole from over the soaked material— sucking until your juices stream against his taste buds. you’re like a drug, ecstasy— sending waves of dopamine over katsuki’s brain.

burning desire trickles into bakugou’s bloodstream at an alarming rate, bursting through his veins and shaking about in his lungs at every little whimper that bubbles wetly on your messy lips— these soon turn to gasps, straining for air as if you’re drowning when your fiancé peels back your wet layer of clothing, nearly tearing completely through it with a life threatening talon belonging to venom, so he can expose your hot cunt to the cool air of the bathroom. he laughs, breathless and giddy against your mound before dragging his tongue along it— kitten licking your addictive little core just to see you twitch and writhe against the wall venom has you pinned to. 

you’re heaven on earth for a greedy, predatory creature like venom.

but you’re the universe to a regular man like katsuki bakugou. 

your cute little clit is his next stop, pointed teeth only just latching onto the pleasure bud before your fiancé rolls it between the two sets until your nose scrunches adorably and your eyes shoot back into your skull. “i think the little human likes this.” venom’s deep voice inches down your spine, hits deep in your core just with its vibrations— and even he is amused with how wet, you’ve become. gushing like a fruitful stream, pouring liquid gold straight into katsuki’s awaiting mouth, down his chin and painting his cheeks until they shine like treasure. 

there’s an uneven rise and fall to your chest as you’re fucked by two entities— you can barely breathe between them both, the shapes on your clit and the stickiness of venom catching your juices before they have a chance to run down your thighs. bakugou is lovesick, and so are you— big bambi eyes staring down into his own so earnestly, imploringly. the blonde pushes his tongue past the entrance to your fluttering hole, watching as your stare trembles before flickering to between your legs where you stretch over the fat pink appendage. it’s so big, that it might as well be a fucking cock. 

“h-ho’fuck…h’my god…ka’suki…s’too much. too fucking much!” the words feel like cotton in your mouth, slurred over venom’s tentacles and while the world spins on it’s axis around you, you cream around the base of the scorching, spit dripping limb in venom’s mouth as it wriggles inside you— tip writing sinful praises against your gooey walls, languidly stroking your insides and pressing up against pleasure spots that are new to both you and katsuki. big hands grasp at the meat of your ass— the tips of piercing nails marring your skin and spreading you nice and wide, pulling you onto your lover’s face so that you’re practically suffocating him with have no escape for you either, making your hips canter down to meet the thrust of his tongue in and out of you, barely parting from your honeyed sex.

a scream rumbles in the base of your throat as venom’s lengthy, girthy tongue twists against your lush inner-walls, churning up your guts. the symbiote using your partner as a host is quick to think— shoving his slime deep into your mouth again to tame your sacchariferous griping and grousing, the inestimable melody laying flat against the saliva pooling on your own tongue. “quiet sweetheart, can’t make you cum if yer too loud,” bakugou breathes, his voice laden with lust and amusement from watching you ride his tongue like it’s a plump, pretty and veiny dick. “y’gunna cum baby, fuck yes…gush f’me just like that, oh yeah…” 

“for us, katsuki.” the beast inside his head reminds your fiancé, his mask coating bakugou’s face once more— easing you into fright once again, one that makes you quiver just right on him, nearly pushing yourself over the edge.

it’s disgustingly delightful how the pink appendage has a mind of its own, acting like your own personal dildo, fucking you good like one and it’s not long before your body succumbs to the mounting pleasure— the taste of an orgasm like honey oozing across your tongue while happy chemicals dance across your brain, accompanied by white noise as you finally get to cum. you’re spiralling, the tip of venom’s…katsuki’s… fuck it. you don’t even care anymore, the tongue brushes against your g-spot hard causing you to clamp down, suffocating your fiancé,  and your jaw to goes slack. 

you gush as much as water falls, humping pathetically at your fiancé’s face until your entire body is limp and strands of the symbiote have to keep you up and away from katsuki’s eager mouth ( he’s still hungry, happy to clean you up ) where your legs can’t. 

venom slowly retreats from your throat too, but your brain doesn’t have time to catch up when he does, for bakugou’s lips replace the heat that your own mouth has lost— pulling you into a frenzied, spit swapping kiss. “‘m not done with ya yet sweetheart,” he laments, lips grazing yours, licking into your open mouth so you get a taste of yourself too. your body bows into katsuki’s, you feel it before you see it, hear it too— the clink of a metal belt, the sticky tap against your stimulated mound from underneath your panties…fiancé’s iron hot cockhead twitching forward and poised to push through your awaiting salacious folds. “venom wants ya so badly, wants me t’make it up to ya…paint yer pretty cunt with my cum.”

the alien matter has crawled back from surrounding your lover’s hips, sitting just beneath his weighty balls, heavy with seed all for you. it’s obvious how painfully hard he is, standing at full mast and the sight makes your mouth water, pupils dilate and a hunger settle in your chest for katsuki, one you haven’t felt for a while. he’d been neglectful, dealing with this venom shit alone when you could’ve been beside him—guiding him through, though you supposed that didn’t matter anymore…seeing as they were both willing to make it up to you now.  “our cum. we are going to ruin her…katsuki.” the symbiote growls, making his presence known to you both in the heated, sex scented bathroom stall. “i am going to ruin you.” 

underneath his hair, matted to his forehead by perspiration, katsuki’s brows furrow in confusion. “what the fuck are you on about—?” his question falls away into an airy exhale, twisted with a sharp clap against his ass, like skin on skin. “f-fuck…oh fuck….d-damn parasite’s f-fuckin’ m-my ass…” your fiancé’s head drops to the junction between your neck and shoulder, pointed teeth latching onto your saltine skin as venom twists his ink black tendrils into a shape made to ruin katsuki from behind— thrusting sharp into his puckered hole. 

“i am not a parasite!” the symbiote snarls, pulling back to pump into your lover again, this time with no mercy on bakugou’s ill prepped and fluttering hole—pressing right up against the blonde’s prostate. the force only has his own hips cantering forward, his cock, wrapped in pretty blue veins bullying it’s way through your swollen pussy lips— dragging back and forth against your overstimulated clit.

the whole ordeal is slimy, hot and steamy— katsuki pressed against you with no room for anything else aside from lust and the doubled down sound of skin clapping against each other. him grinding his shaft into your sweet cunt while venom pounds away at his warm, tight ass. when the symbiote pulls back, bakugou peels his seedy dick from between your selfish folds— clinging onto him by viscid ropes of evidence from your last orgasm while his cockhead smears fat globs of white against your mound. 

“my fuckin’ god,” you can feel every twitch of his length between your messy thighs, every throb as venom pushes deeper into katsuki— subsequently pushing his tip against abused and sensitive entrance. “m’baby’s got the prettiest pussy… can’t believe ‘m marryin this fuckin’ pussy… oh god.” he whines, drooling over your shoulder because he can’t keep quiet without pacifying himself on you, bakugou’s venom covered hand descends between your bodies to tap his mushroomed milky tip against your pleasure button a few times, smirking as your body jolts and the oil slick arms of venom spread your pussy lips further apart to watch more of the action ( your throbbing cunt and the pearls of arousal that leak from it ). “can’t believe she’s all fuckin’ ours, hah parasite?”

“no one can have her. only you and i.” he says in response, and your tummy flutters when bakugou repeats it back to you— the possession both he and the alien have over you doing nothing to stop the ticking time bomb of your orgasm building up in your lower tummy again.

to see your future husband with flushed cheeks and vacant eyes as he’s being fucked raw ( by an alien or not ) only serves to turn you on further, pussy drooling and juices slinging between both of your thighs with the back and forth of your humping, sticky noises accompanying your in tune breathless moans that follow one another’s with ‘O’ shaped mouths and end in sloppy kisses. 

with your gasped pleas and katsuki’s gruff mewls echoing throughout the bathroom— venom picks up the pace— rocking his dick shaped appendage harder and faster into your fiancé’s ribbed insides, forcing your bodies against each other in a passionate miry dance of nasty, filthy sex. the walls of the bathroom stall creak on their hinges from the force behind venom’s thrusts, jamming hard against katsuki’s prostate which in turn has your rubbing down on his fat dick, faster and faster until all you can hear is the pap, pap, pap of your sexes working with one another. 

“want it inside, need you inside! f-fuck yes!” you garble, almost pornogroahically, katsuki’s convulsing creamy cock driving you up the wall insane. “please.” 

bakugou presses his forehead to your own , body bouncing forward against yours from the power behind venom’s aggressive pace inside of him while your pebbled nipples brush against each other. “can’t,” he whines with nearly teary ruby eyes, the crystalline droplets already gathered in his lash line like yours. “been gone from the party too long, g’nna cum soon anyways. s-shit!” though you whimper with faux disappointment, you’re not far from release either— the feverishness to either of your movements dragging you by the ankles to another high after all the abuse to your sensitive sex. you find yourself throwing hips down to meet katsuki’s rapid thrusts. his hands fumble for one of your meaty thighs to hook it over his slender, slime covered waist while you grasp at his taut ass to spread him wider, allowing venom to reach deeper spots inside of him. 

katsuki shifts, changing the angle of his venom controlled thrusts so that his glistening cockhead breaches your entrance only just— making your eyes roll back for the millionth time that night, your nails sinking into his peachy ass. “‘m right there kats, oh—! right there…” you warn him through gritted teeth. 

he tilts head up, tongue licking over the sweat on your Cupid’s bow. “yer cummin’… g’nna cum f’us baby?” you nod rapidly in response, barely standing on the crumbling edge of your orgasm. between that and the alien parasite tearing his ass in two, jammed up on his prostate— dancing in the back of his mind and commanding him to cum… katsuki can’t seem to hold of either. “let go f’me baby, lemme feel it. give it all fuckin’ to me. to us.” 

“cum katsuki.” 

your body follow’s bakugou’s lead, and he, venoms. “ohh fuck, uhhh shit! ‘m fucking cumming— yeah, yeah. oh yeah…” your fiancé beefs needy and loud, his first spirts of thick white seed barely hitting your cunt before you let out a large wave and gush so hard your release makes a crude slap when ir hits the ground. your panties are soaked through and blood rushes through your ears— all your senses numb to the world except for katsuki using your shaking body to ride out the rest of his high, pouring his release into your soiled panties and against your slit. 

you see new colours, new galaxies and universes— everything hitting you so hard you barley have time to comprehend that you’ve just fucked an alien that’s using your fiancé as a host. it still doesn’t register within you as katsuki puts venom away, pulling out from underneath your skirt before he fixes your panties warm with cum snug against you again.

“‘m gonna take ya back to the party sweetheart, we’ll have to talk about this later.” bakugou coos, though you’re both wobbly on your feet as you come down. 

it’s so cute that all you can do is nod, seemingly appeased with your fiancé compared to how furious you had been before venom helped fuck you good. 

if katsuki had known using the alien as a sex toy would get him out of trouble with you and back into your good books— he would have done it much earlier. 

“i will not eat any of the humans here tonight… as long as we are able to ravage your tiny human again…katsuki.” the symbiote promises when bakugou hangs back a few seconds as you slip back into the party— hoping that your sins go unnoticed. 

and even if you squint while watching you join your family and friends for the rest of the night, you would notice all of them— the way you stagger on your legs and the shiny marks from venom’s slime decorating them too, leaving a sweet smile on bakugou’s face. 

“oh buddy, as long as yer a fuckin’ parasite in my body, we can ravage her like that any day, for the rest of my life.” katsuki boasts proudly.

“for the last time. i am not a parasite!”

[themalhambird]

Whiteman’s  lounging with a whisky, looking comfortably casual in a pair of chinos and a t-shirt—blazer combination. He might be taken for any young, up-and-coming London professional out for a drink to celebrate the long weekend. Hillinghead, by contrast, looks like he should be at a wedding- the man’s in a three piece suit and the most complexly knotted tie she’s ever seen.  Still, Shahara’s hardly going to judge him for feeling more comfortable completely covered up and the man is (she still can’t really wrap her head around this) a Victorian. He’s got a pint of beer in front of him, though it doesn’t look like he’s touched it. 

She takes the first of the two empty seats at their table, her coke sloshing over the side of the glass as she sits, and remarks: “You two found your way around alright then?”

Whiteman sniffs sharply and half shrugs. “Fine. Nice to see the place not bombed to bits and rationing over.”

“It’s so- loud,” Hillinghead murmurs. “And crowded, and it smells-”

“It’s always smelled,” Whiteman interjects. “What, was it all roses in your time? I don’t believe that.”

“No,” Hillinghead stresses. “But it is- more.” he rubs the bridge of his nose.  “Have you heard from-” He freezes, staring at something just over Whiteman’s shoulder. Shahara can read a shift in to flight-or-fight posture easily and from the way he’s suddenly more alert, Whiteman’s clocked that something’s got Hilinghead spooked as well.

“Problem?” he asks quietly, in his clipped, cockney accent; a half-strangled vowel slips from Hillinghead’s throat and Shahara turns to see what he’s looking at. There’s two men enjoying what’s clearly a date, holding hands and locking lips. Shahara sighs internally, bracing herself for a slew of Victorian attitudes- “Yeah,” she says, a little sarcastically- Hillinghead’s knuckles have gone white, he’s clenching his fist so hard. The gold of his wedding band stands stark against it. “That’s allowed, nowadays- we don’t care.” 

“Hm?” Whiteman glances around- there’s a moment where Shahara thinks she’s gonna have to deal with 1940s attitudes as well, but Whiteman turns back, uninterested. “Fair enough.” he starts patting himself down, like he’s looking for something in his pockets. 

“They can-” Hillinghead murmurs. “I could…” He swipes for the beer and downs a quarter of the pint in one. Now Whiteman looks interested, he pauses his search, leans right forward and says, smirking, “Detective Inspector Hillinghead. Do you have a fancy man?”

Hillinghead sputters and brings down the glass. “Are you twelve?” he demands, something of the outraged parent seeping into his tone as– he’s blushing, Shahara realises. He’s actually blushing. 

“Are you-?” She asks, leaning forward, and she knows it’s rude and none of her business, but still. “Are you gay?” The wedding ring. “Bi?”she suggests, as a follow up, and then: “Do you have a boyfriend?”

“I- what? I-” he looks back at the couple, then grabs his beer again. “I have- I have a- I have Henry,” he downs more of the beer. “It-it would be nice, to- to not…” he trails off, his eyes drifting away from both of them.

“See, I’ve always been a bachelor- a bachelor bachelor, not a confirmed bachelor, myself, but I - fuck, I left my cigars and my lighter in the other jacket-”

“Language,” Hilinghead reprimands at the same time as Shahara says: “You can’t smoke in here anyway.”

Whiteman drops his elbow to the table and points at her. “You what?”

“No smoking in public places, it’s banned.”

Whiteman flops back in his seat and grabs for his whisky. “The future is bollocks.” he drains the glass and slams it down. “Good whisky though. So. While we wait for Maplewood to join us….Hillinghead can kiss blokes, and I can’t smoke in a pub. What else should we know about this 2023, then…?”

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hi, I would like to ask for a rafe with ''Let's worry about the consequences later.'' and 'I would never let anyone or anything hurt you.'' with a reader pogue

Request: John B.'s older sister/Rafe's past girlfriend get kidnapped instead of Kiara + Rafe comforting you at night

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

The worst thing that could happen after getting rescued by this suspicious pilot happened. You should’ve saved your ass and followed the others instead of helping the pilot and swimming in the other direction. If you had, you would not have been separated from the rest of the pogues or gotten taken and kidnapped by some strong-armed men.

You were brought to a lavish compound guarded by lots of armed guards, locked in a room and told to be ready for dinner at 8pm. Various sizes of the same red dress were waiting in a closet with a note that said ‘pick your size’. You felt like a doll forced to play real-life dress up.

When the clock struck 8, a maid unlocked your door and brought you downstairs to meet your captor — Carlos Singh —, but when you got there, you found Rafe Cameron instead. He was looking out a window, his back facing you, but you knew it was him.

‘’Rafe?’’

He turned around, his familiar blue eyes looking back at you. His head was buzzed and he was wearing a white button up and a blue blazer, looking as handsome as you remembered. You would have been happy to see him if he had not chosen that stupid cross over you that day on the Coastal Venture.

‘’You’re a part of this?!’’

Rafe drew his eyebrows together in a frown. ‘’I don't know what you're talking about, but I’m here for business. I’m meeting a possible buyer for the cross.’’

That damn cross again…

Before you could exchange more words, a man with a perfectly cut beard and wearing a tailored suit walked in with a drink in one hand. ‘’You two know each other, right?’’ He shifted his eyes between you and Rafe, amusement curling on his lips when he sensed a tension between you two. ‘’Shall we head for dinner? We have some things to discuss.’’

With a chill in your bones, you followed Carlos to the dining area.

You tensed when you felt a hand on the small of your back, but relaxed when you realized it was Rafe’s and not one of Carlos’ men’s. Your trust in him was broken, but you knew he wouldn’t let anyone in this house get their hands on you.

A nice table had been set with place settings for three. The food looked delicious, and your stomach felt tight from having not eaten anything since last night, but you couldn't bring yourself to eat anything. In this property, your life was on a thin line and all you could think about was staying on your guard.

Less than three minutes into the dinner, Carlos asked about Denmark Tanney’s diary. He suspected one of you to have it since the only way to find the emplacement of the cross was through the diary. Unlike Rafe, you knew what Carlos was talking about, but unfortunately you did not have it in your possession.

‘’I know one of you knows something. When you give me the diary, I’ll let you go. Until then,’’ Carlos glanced at the guards and with a tilt of his head, you and Rafe were escorted to that same room they had locked you in.

In the room, Rafe was pacing, trying to not spiral into panic.

‘’I got a boat. I can get us off the island, but first we gotta get out of here.’’

You sat on the end of the bed, evaluating your options, but beside the diary there was none. ‘’The door is locked from the outside and there’s security all over the house and property. We’re stuck.’’

You were usually more optimistic, but this place was a fucking fortress.

‘’Please tell me you know where that damn diary is,’’ Rafe pleaded, kneeling down in front of your sitting figure. 

You shook your head. You had heard your brother talk about Denmark Tanney’s diary, but you had never touched or seen it. ‘’I’m sorry.’’

When the night came, you changed into a gray silk pajama you found in the drawers. You felt like an imposter in those clothes. It was a lot more fancy than the old band tee shirts and bunny print pajama pants you wore at home.

‘’I look ridiculous,’’ you said when coming out of the bathroom, feeling uncomfortable.

Rafe’s eyes looked you over, swiping his tongue over his lips when noticing your nipples poking through the delicate silk. ‘’I think you look…nice.’’ It wasn’t his initial adjective of choice, but your relationship was too strained for a spicier compliment.

You felt warmth creeping on your cheeks. ‘’Shut up.’’

You crossed the room and hid beneath the bed covers. After sleeping outside on mattresses made of braided leaves for the past month, a soft mattress and a warm duvet comforter felt like laying on a fucking cloud.

Although you were warm and comfortable, sleep didn’t come to you.

After seeing the way Carlos handled the ones who crossed him, you couldn’t stop hearing the gunshot that took Jimmy Portis’s life. He said you and Rafe had until tomorrow to tell him where the diary is, making you the nexts on his list.

With shaking hands and a rapid heartbeat, you sat up and peered down the bed. Rafe offered to sleep on the floor, taking a sole cushion from the bed for pillow.

‘’Rafe?’’ you whispered in the dark. 

He hummed sleepily, only half asleep.

‘’Can you come sleep in the bed with me? I…I’m scared.’’

You didn’t hear any movement so you assumed Rafe had gone back to sleep, but you saw a shadow standing up. Although your relationship never properly ended and you didn’t know where it stood, Rafe never stopped loving you. He cared deeply about you and his protective instinct was to make you feel safe.

He slid under the covers beside you and you reached for him, clung to him like he was your lifeline. ‘’I’m here,’’ he reassured, snaking an arm around your scared frame. ‘’And I’m not gonna let go of you this time.’’

Saving the cross instead of helping you when you fell overboard was something he regretted immensely. He should’ve taken your hand instead of grabbing the rope and trying to save the cross. Rafe wasn’t strong enough to hold the cross by himself, it was going to fall off the boat anyway.

‘’Promise?’’ You tilted your head to look up at him.

He grabbed your hands to hold in his and sealed his promise with a kiss on your joined hands. '’I would never let anyone or anything hurt you. I’ve let things come between us in the past, but I’m done with that.''

‘’What are we gonna do, Rafe? Without the diary, we’re dea—’’

A finger shut your lips before you could finish your sentence. ‘’I’m gonna get us out of here, okay? Whatever it takes. Let's worry about the consequences later.’’

Rafe didn’t have a plan, but if he needed to kill Carlos Singh with his bare hands, he would. 

—

OBX taglist: @moralina @eudximoniakr @toylewestinnyc @rottenstyx  @sweeterheartxamerica  @jordierama @viridwityy @izzy-laufeyson @kenzi-woycehoski @lilaconner @Katsukis1Wife  @hawkegfs @mommyruuetrue  @acornacreacure @snownjune @nmedina8611 @slvtherinseeker  @slvtherinseeker @poppet05 @1stevelacyfan @illf4iry @withbeautyandrage

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron

[endofthelinepal107]

sukuna - a deal with the devil pt. 1/3

{to save shibuya, you have to make a mutually beneficial agreement with the king of curses. will he even let you live long enough to try?} 5k words

notes: the reader has an illusion-based curse technique, it's only mentioned once or twice.

warnings: violence, cursing

part one + part two + part three

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Sukuna saw himself as a simple man. He had spent his lifetime working towards becoming the King of Curses. He'd achieved that, and then died. And then he'd had the chance to inspire the fear he hadn't been able to in the Heian period when he was brought back as a curse. 

The first thing he did when he finally managed to consume the pathetic vessel he was in, which was nothing compared to that stupid brave kid he'd been contained in before, was look at his hands. He looked how he'd looked as a human, and his hands were no different. They were strong, powerful, sculpted. Ringed off by the bands of black around his wrists. Hands capable of so much.

Fire!

He let out a laugh as he watched the buildings around him go up in flames. All this effort that humans had put into building these strange, blank cubes of business and residence. All of it, crashing down around him. It was so nice of them to provide a playground for him to get used to his body again.

"Oh, that's not great."

You all turned to look at Satoru, collectively giving him the dirtiest look you could. He rolled his eyes defensively.

"What? We were all thinking it."

Kento took off his blazer and began rolling up his sleeves. "We need to form a plan, now. Before his destruction reaches the populated areas we haven't managed to evacuate. Ijichi and the other managers can't work faster than the King of Curses himself."

Suguru looked at Satoru. "Can you hollow purple him, or something?"

"He won't let me get close enough," Satoru replied. "He won't let any of us get close enough. Our best chance would be managing to surprise attack him, catch him off guard, and then try and win a domain battle."

Suguru frowned. "Do any of us have a domain strong enough?"

You shook your head. "It's more about how long we could keep him in it before he notices. I don't see how we're going to catch someone like him off guard."

Satoru was silent for a few moments. Then he smiled at you. It was the wide, disconcerting smile that Suguru had let him believe was charming. You only got it when he wanted something. You crossed your arms over your chest and waited. "What if... we use you?"

There was a beat of silence. Then Kento nodded slightly. "Use an illusion big enough to catch him off guard. We do have the benefit of your technique not existing in the Heian era. He's unlikely to be able to identify it swiftly."

Suguru nodded. "It could plausibly catch him off guard. You'd have to get his attention and then cast it. And we could decide our strategy differently that way. We could just throw everything at him at once, if you could distract him enough."

You sighed, not hiding that you disliked this plan. "If I die, it's on your fucking hands."

Satoru’s hand hit your back, presumably in a gesture that was meant to be reassuring instead of just wind you. "Don't ask me to pay for your funeral."

And so, while Sukuna was wreaking general havoc across Shibuya, thoroughly enjoying himself, you were reluctantly wandering out into the desolate streets by yourself. You had been pretty resigned to your fate when it was presented to you, but the nerves were starting to hit you full force. Still, you managed to force your feet forwards. About half of Shibuya had been evacuated. Sukuna was heading towards the half that was still populated. You headed towards the abandoned parts so that, when you caught his attention, your probable death wouldn't result in the direct death of hundreds of civilians.

Once you were standing there, you found yourself at a slight loss of what to do. How did you get the attention of someone like the King of Curses? How did you do it in a way that wasn't so similar to a buzzing mosquito that he killed you without looking?

At a lack of anything else to do, you focussed your energy and used your curse technique. You manipulated the concrete in front of you. You made it into a giant arrow pointing downwards and waved it around, grunting slightly at the force it required to move. It was stupid, but you couldn't think of anything else.

You were just beginning to think that it hadn't worked when you felt an overwhelming wave of power. It stunned you for a second. You had never felt this kind of cursed energy before, in such a copious amount. It was obvious that, even though he'd been using all three of his attacks, he was still operating at full force. It was like it didn't even make a difference to him.

Sukuna had to laugh. He jumped down in front of you, watching the arrow melt back into the road. Then he saw you and just burst into laughter. He didn't even bother attacking. 

"Wonderful plan," he chuckled. "Are you fucking stupid? You're the most pathetic sorcerer I've seen all day, and I'm going to destroy you. This is all they have to send me?" He looked up at the sky, hands raised as though he was waiting for a more significant threat to be delivered.

You were rooted in place, briefly wondering if you should be praying or something before he turns around and cleaves you in half. Sukuna turned to look at you again. He was walking casually back and forth, as though his overabundant energy extended to physical. His restlessness almost made him seem like one of your friends, like he was just a normal, slightly overpowered sorcerer. Almost.

"Ah, perhaps this is some sort of trap," he mused. You were terrified, that much was obvious, but he could see the cursed energy rolling off of you. You weren't pathetic. He had misjudged that. But he knew it didn't matter, not to him. You could throw everything you had at him amidst the most well-orchestrated plan in history. He'd still laugh as it fell around him. Because he was stronger, and that was the simple fact of the matter. "I almost pity you."

You managed to force yourself to take a small step forward. The tiny motion broke the seal and you felt your nerves sliding away a little. Still there, ever present, but much less so. It wasn't debilitating anxiety now. You were pretty sure you were about to die, but you were determined to at least do something for the people you cared about before you did.

"The King of Curses."

It was a redundant statement and made you feel stupid as soon as you'd said it. But they were words, and they were words addressed to him. That was enough for him to look at you properly.

"I thought that the King of Curses had, like, four arms and shit," you forced yourself to continue. "And two faces. And, like, a mouth on your stomach."

He didn't leap at you, or start shooting out that stream of fire like before. He crossed his arms and laughed. Laughed because he was a little unsure of what you were doing, and because he still felt sure he could kill you in an instant if he wanted to.

"I guess that you're just not as scary as everybody thinks," you shrugged.

You'd loosened your hands as well as your tongue. From the first word you'd spoken, you had started to let out a steady stream of cursed energy. Luckily for you, you hadn't been fully containing it in your nervous state anyway, so the shift to utilising it wasn't obvious.

And he wasn't noticing.

"I heard that nobody was scared of you at all during the Heian period."

Your fingers twitched slightly, the illusion beginning to subtly take shape around the two of you. You were trying to keep it unnoticeable, but elements had to change for it to be an actual illusion. The buildings were changing shade of grey, the lamps were dulling, the road was becoming black instead of blue. He still wasn't noticing.

"That, compared to the sorcerers of your time, you really weren't anything special."

He looked irritated, but he was still looking at you like you'd look at a fly landing on your arm. He was holding up his hand, ready to strike the bug away, completely unaware that the fly could slip out from under his hand just in time.

And, as you stifled your astonishment that he really isn't noticing, you realised that maybe you could switch the plan slightly to make it easier for the others. You thought of something even more insulting to say so that he wouldn't notice your hands moving as you expanded your domain.

"I guess that's why you're back again, huh? Because you can ease your inferiority complex by attacking defenceless humans, and convince yourself that you're strong and powerful and the King of Curses. Ha, third time's the charm, I guess."

He felt a surge of anger at how perceptive your words were, even though you had no idea who he really was. "You insolent-" Sukuna cut himself off. His eyes narrowed as he looked around. "No," he muttered. "No." Surely... Surely not?

Now that he had realised that he was trapped inside of your domain, you didn't have to manage your cursed energy output so that it remained unnoticeable. You forced more energy out, broadening the boundaries to their maximum. Your domain was the perfect domain for this, you had to admit. It was constantly shifting, so even though he'd registered that he was trapped, you could keep him slightly disoriented. And, since it was barrierless and also an illusion, the only way out of it was to run and hope you reached the edge. You couldn't see Sukuna taking that option because it would seem too cowardly for the King of Curses.

Slowly, Sukuna's eyes met yours. They flashed red and you felt your heart drop. You couldn't do sophisticated attacks and also hold him in here, it was just too much. Especially since you didn't know if the others were going to be able to interject anytime soon. All you had to do was keep him inside the domain for long enough to fall unconscious under the weight of the cursed energy. It seemed unfamiliar enough to him that he didn't have a massively high tolerance, but you couldn't see him losing it just yet.

He started to walk towards you. His movements were slow, but wide, like a cat stalking a mouse. It was hard to believe that you held the power in this situation, but you forced yourself to trust it. It was the only way this would work.

You let him get close. And then, hoping a juvenile attack would catch him off guard, you leapt at him. Sukuna was already wary of you, confused and disoriented by your slow and steady attack. Seeing you literally pouncing on him made him stop short. And, because he was so sure he could toss you off, he didn't react fast enough. Because now you were literally on the King of Curses' back, arms around his neck. He couldn't fucking shake you off.

"What are you-"

Your legs wrapped firmly around his broad frame, ensuring that you couldn't be tossed off. And then you narrowed the domain, focussing everything in the concentrated space the two of you were in. Sukuna's hand had just wrapped around your wrist, either with the intention of straight up snapping it or just throwing you off, both of which should've been effortless for him. And then he fell unconscious.

"Ah-" You fell directly on top of him as he slumped to the ground.

You were too tired to roll off him, so you just stayed slumped over his body. You released your domain. Your friends were already surrounding you. After the initial few seconds of stunned silence as they registered that you were literally on top of the King of Curses, they began to celebrate.

Kento pulled you onto your feet and let you lean against him as you regained your energy. Satoru beamed at you and gave you a quick hug. Suguru patted you on the head while Satoru jumped up and down in a circle around Sukuna's body. You smiled weakly as you watched them. Then, resting your hand on the loop of Kento's arm because you really felt like you were going to collapse, you spoke up.

"Um- I don't think he's going to stay unconscious for that long, so I'd form a plan, if I were you guys."

Your words, necessary as they were, definitely killed the vibe. Satoru deflated and everybody else looked at Sukuna's body. Suguru spoke up first.

"We could just... kill him."

None of you had wanted to say it, but it was a plausible option. It seemed like a pretty good option, actually.

Kento was the first to agree with Suguru's plan out loud. "I think that's a good idea. Safest to do it while he’s unconscious.." He let out a conflicted sigh. "I don't love the idea of doing it like this, but I think that waiting for him to wake up and then attacking would be a foolish idea."

Suguru nodded. "Satoru, you’re quiet."

Satoru looked up, smiling slightly. "That's because I have another suggestion." He looked at you, then pointed just in case there was any confusion about who he was addressing (there wasn't). "You just took down the King of Curses."

You chewed your lip, then added, "Temporarily."

"Sure. But you did it. And I firmly believe that, had anybody else been down there, even with your cursed technique and the exact same plan, it wouldn't have worked."

There was a pause as you frowned at him. "Why would that be the case?"

Satoru shrugged. "I don't know. But that's what I think. I don't think he would've listened to anyone else."

Suguru quietly added, "Not for long enough to lose, anyway."

Kento started to nod, seeing Satoru's point. You still didn't see what his plan was. "What does that matter now, though, ‘toru?"

"He listened to you enough to lose. Maybe we could..." He tilted his head slightly. "Maybe we could use that. Use him."

For the second time that day, you were left on your own with the King of Curses. At least he was unconscious this time. Not that it felt like a huge consolation when the whole point of this plan was to wait for him to wake up.

You were kneeling beside him, nervously tapping your fingers on the floor. Just waiting. You felt like a sitting duck. The plan was that, as soon as he showed signs of waking, you expanded your domain again and trapped him inside. Just like the plan earlier, you were convinced it was going to go wrong. Luck didn't feel like it was on your side. You wished that they could have come up with a better plan. You hadn't loved Suguru's proposition, but it beat this.

The others were busy helping with the evacuation. It turned out that Sukuna's attacks hadn't been the only ones in Shibuya, and while everyone's focus was on him, some lower grade cursed spirits had escaped. Nobody had died yet. Your friends were making sure that fact didn't change.

You sighed, looking down at Sukuna's body again. It was strange to know he was so powerful, yet sit beside him like this and be fine. You could get a good look at him like this. He was big, bigger than even Kento.. Solid. Every part of him seemed as strong as it could be. But, slumped against the concrete, he didn't look so severe. You had fought with people that lost their shit in fights enough times to know his laughing wasn't entirely sincere, so it was nice to get a look at him candidly. He kind of just looked... blank. Like his body was a vessel for destruction, and when it wasn't doing that, there wasn't enough him to actually fill it up. He could have been dead and you didn't know how different he would truly look.

Your eyes were on him the entire time. You knew that you hadn't missed a single flicker in his expression, no eye twitch or parting of lips or any sign that he was about to wake up. But, one second he was asleep, and then next his eyes were on yours.

For a moment, your heart stuttered in your chest. You were frozen again, but for a different reason than before. His eyes bored into yours. They weren't quite as red as you had thought they were, more of an autumnal orange. And they were narrow, almost lazily opened, like he truly didn't care about anything. Even though you knew he must, you knew that this couldn't have ever happened to him before.

He didn't say anything. But when he sat up and just looked at you, it was pretty obvious what was happening. More obvious when his arms crossed over his broad chest and he lifted his eyebrows slightly. After a long few seconds of your stunned silence, he spoke up.

"Well? Are you going to do it, or should I just kill you on the spot? I have a feeling I'll enjoy killing you."

Your lips parted and you stared at him. But you lifted your hands and expanded your domain again, because what the fuck else were you meant to do? It took a little longer than before. Most sorcerers couldn't expand their domains more than once in a day, but you could as long as you had the energy and focus. You were swiftly running out of both.

Sukuna clicked his tongue, rising to his feet. You tried to do the same, but your body was too fatigued. You stayed kneeling and tried to conserve your energy as best as you could so, when you needed to stand, you could. He paced in front of you for a while, inspecting your domain. Then he turned to you. The only reaction he had to realising you were still kneeling was a slight raise of his eyebrows again.

"So, puny sorcerer... What the fuck are you doing? Who do you think you are? Have I been gone for so long that sorcerers have become this incredibly cocky?" He glared at you. "You may have bested me for a moment, but I could still squash you where you stand. Kneeling only makes the punishment more fitting." When you didn't say anything, he continued. "What is your plan? What purpose does my suffering in your presence serve, other than to prolong your inevitable death?"

You looked at him blankly for a few seconds. Then you looked down at your hands and spoke. "They didn't tell me what to say, so I'll just tell you the truth."

There was a beat of silence as you expected him to interrupt you, and he didn't because he was a little surprised by your words.

"The plan is to use you. To hold you here and... bring you over to our side, so to speak." You turned your hands over, inspecting them. You've never come out of a fight this unscathed before. How ironic that it was with the King of Curses himself. "You have immense power, more than anybody we have. But, combined, our sorcerers can still take you down. I did it, and I'm not the strongest sorcerer."

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "And you believe that honesty will convince me? You are far more foolish than I thought you were."

You hesitated. The sensible thing to do next would be to list the benefits, to show him why he should want this arrangement. But nobody had told you any, because everyone was so focussed on how it could benefit you. After a pause, you frowned slightly and did your best.

"You must feel like your power has plateaued," you said, half-guessing. "You must feel like you've reached the peak, and that this is as far as your power can go. But things are different in the jujutsu world than they were in the Heian era. Take my technique, for example. We have no idea when it originated, but there was no version of it in your era. There are a few techniques like that. And, since the birth of Gojo Satoru, the whole landscape has changed. You could grow further, learn from observing a whole new breed of sorcerer."

Sukuna said nothing, but his interest was piqued more than he'd admit. You were right. He loved the simplicity of breaking people and things, but wasn't there more to this whole thing? He'd done this. He'd already burned down buildings, used Cleave and Dismantle until he could do it in his sleep. Maybe there would be some use in watching the sorcerers of the modern age. 

You took his silence to mean that he wasn't convinced, and so you tried to think of another benefit. "You can benefit from socially acceptable protection," you told him. "You might not think you need protection, that everyone else needs protection from you, but this arrangement is going to require you to be cooperative. If you just agree to that, you're going to end up being exploited. Even if you benefit from it, you're the King of Curses, you shouldn't be at the mercy of them. I'm respected enough and strong enough to provide that protection for you." After you'd finished talking, it faintly registered what you had just offered, but you pushed it out of your mind. You were doing what you needed to do.

There was another lull. Sukuna was genuinely astounded by what you had just said. Not only at the prospect of being protected by some modern sorcerer, but at the idea that you would actually offer that to him.

"Hey, also," your voice suddenly grew far more casual and you looked up, meeting his eye. Sukuna was already fiercely watching you, but he knew the slight surprise at your tone probably registered on his face. "Don't you want to just kind of see what's going on in the world these days? Like, it's been a thousand years, man. So much has changed. You have all this power, but haven't you done everything that you want to do? Don't you want to kind of.. chill out? Do some stupid stuff, some trivial stuff? Explore the world and not have to constantly be thinking about who you're going to murder next, or whatever?"

He shouldn't have listened to a word you said, but he did. And then, because he was still Sukuna, and because it had been a long time since he'd had a real conversation with anyone, he used his well-practiced tactic of turning the tables.

"Tell me, puny sorcerer, why are you letting them guide your actions? Why do you so willingly give over your strings to your puppet-masters?"

He waited for a beat, let it sink in as you looked up at him. Sukuna doubted that it was going to be easy to manipulate you. You were clearly good at thinking on your feet. So, just like you had, he manipulated the truth to his favour, and tried to ignore it when he realised there was very little manipulation in his words at all.

"What grade are you, fool?"

"Special grade."

He nodded. He'd guessed as much. "You have all this power, this unique and versatile technique, and you're allowing it to be guided by another's hand? Are you completely stupid?" Sukuna's eyes flicked between yours. He was still trying to figure out if you were only able to hold his eye contact because you were terrified, or if you were so worn out that your nerves had faded. "Would you not like freedom? Autonomous power? Whether your whims be destruction or life-giving, should it not be your choice? Shouldn't you embrace the power at the core of you?"

You tilted your head slightly. "Yeah. Yeah, you're right. And- And who's going to give that to me? You?"

Maybe it was that he'd only been in the modern age for an hour, but the sarcasm went right over Sukuna's head. "Yes, fool, me. You yourself acknowledged the power I hold, far superior to any sorcerer you know. Who else could grant you that?"

Both of you stopped. Stared at each other. And, simultaneously, you both realised that the other had a point.

Because... yeah. Destruction did come easily to Sukuna. It took hardly more effort than walking. But it got tedious. He felt like, no matter the sorcerer he was fighting, the city he was destroying, it had all become the same. And, as much as he had always wanted power, he had never wanted stagnancy. The appeal of his power was meant to be that it was exciting. What use did it have if it no longer thrilled him?

It would be a surprisingly welcome change to give it a break. He had never given himself a chance to try the other parts of being a sorcerer. Even while he was a human, his focus had just been on building his power. And, once he'd achieved that, the immense strength he'd held had meant he couldn't just live as a normal sorcerer. Yeah, maybe the Heian era had been so full of horror and cursed spirits that nobody had truly feared him. But if he had just wandered the streets, he would have gotten three paces before he was engaged in another fight.

He could do the things that he'd never had a chance to. Actually live somewhere, permanently. He could discover new things about life, things that had changed since he was roaming the earth. He could travel, buy things, live.

And, on your knees a few paces away, you were also realising that... yeah. You were exploited a lot of the time. Just like Satoru, you were powerful, which meant that people were very focussed on making sure you were on side. But the value was in your skill, not in your personhood.

Like Shoko, your cursed technique made you indispensable. You were more versatile than most people, had the endurance to withstand more damage before you had to be pulled from the field. And they took advantage of it. It had been you they'd sent out to confront the King of Curses, hadn't it?

You were rare enough to be coveted, but not enough to be given anything in return. And the dissatisfaction had been building in you for a long while. Sukuna's words had just... brought it to the forefront. And they'd provided a solution, something you hadn't even thought to consider. The option to just... stop it. Could it really just stop?

But, as much as living appealed to Sukuna, and no longer being treated like a cursed tool appealed to you, both of you couldn't look past the looming fact that you couldn't trust each other.

Sukuna was the King of Curses. He was probably going to kill you as soon as he was out of your domain. He'd probably been drooling about your head falling away from your body since he'd laid eyes on you. 

And, if he doesn't kill you like he knows he should, you're probably just laying down more parts of an elaborate trap. You were probably buying his trust so that one of the other sorcerers could kill him while you caught him off guard again. And-

Sukuna's eyes met yours. And, as you looked up at him, it became glaringly apparent that your paranoid thoughts were mirroring each other. Because if you don't trust him, and he doesn't trust you, and both of you are refusing to trust the other because you're so convinced that the other will betray you, isn't there an obvious solution.

"It might make sense for us to make a binding vow-"

"Get on your feet and make a binding vow-"

He scowled at you. Your eyebrows furrowed slightly. But you rose to your feet. You took a step forward and he mirrored you. You stuck your hand out and he clasped it in his, his grip as strong as you knew it would be. It was slightly painful, but you didn't let it show on your face. You weren't sure he was doing it on purpose, anyway.

Once he released your hand, you withdrew your domain. Sukuna didn't kill you. No other sorcerers jumped out to kill him while his guard was lowered.

You turned to look at him. Sukuna looked right back at you. This was the first time in either of your lives that you'd been forced to trust someone like this. It wasn't technically out of necessity, because he could've gone back to destroying Shibuya if he wanted, and you could try to kill him again if you wanted, but it was the truly rational decision for both of you.

And, beyond the pragmatism, it was kind of nice to trust someone. Sukuna had to admit that he'd never been able to trust someone before, not beyond Uraume. This was very different to that. 

You had your friends, of course, and you knew that they were never intentionally exploiting you. They all suffered too. But you had never had an ally like this before, someone that, sure, was acting mostly for his own benefit, but that had absolutely no reason to betray you beyond whimsy.

It wasn't awful.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

i hope you enjoyed my first proper part of a fic on this account! already we are not operating at true sukuna levels of violence but i can't resist writing my man a little soft. he's gonna get softer, trust. part 2 and 3 in editing.

[wileys-russo]

childhood sweethearts (9) II a.russo x reader

playlist one two three four five six seven eight

childhood sweethearts (9) II a.russo x reader

"-don't you have your own clothes?" you smiled in amusement, laid down on your bed as your best friend rummaged through your wardrobe, tossing things aside and mumbling to herself.

"yes but i have nothing to wear! like i told you before i came over here, keep up!" rory turned around and clapped at you making your eyes roll as you sat up and sipped at your drink.

"you my dear however are wearing this!" a few items of clothing hit you in the face as rory tossed them over her shoulder. "i thought we were just going to dinner?" you sighed as you peeled them off, the clothes in question a short black dress and an oversized black blazer for over the top.

"we are! but if we maybe end up somewhere else afterwards...we need to be dressed to show we're open to that." rory grinned with a wink as you only shook your head, having known her long enough to know there wasn't any point in arguing with the hard headed girl.

"so i saw that alessia followed you on instagram." rory mentioned casually, continuing her furious hunt through your clothing as you started to neatly fold everything she'd tossed aside in doing so.

"why are you stalking people again on social media? i thought we had this conversation ro!" you tutted, the girl notoriously known for a deep dive.

"i wasn't stalking! i just so happened to be looking for that picture of us when i visited you in australia and went to the beach which i know you posted. then i saw that our mutual followers had gained one and it was her." rory tried to defend, glancing at you over her shoulder as you fixed her with a look making her eyes roll.

"thought you two hadn't spoke in years?" "our mums reconnected, been to a few family dinners, we're talking again." "thats all i get?" "thats all you get because thats all it is!" you smacked her in the face with a tank top before putting it away, rory finally pulling a dress out she deemed acceptable and making a noise of happiness.

"well thats nice. it always was a shame you guys drifted and stopped speaking, you were inseparable growing up its always been super weird being friends with you both when you're not friends with each other." rory admitted, not ever having a clue you and alessia dated as most of your mutual friends had never known, grabbing your favourite brown leather jacket as you grabbed her wrist.

"you can wear this ro but i swear to god if you drop even a crumb of food on it we will no longer be friends."

~

"this feels illegal! it's a sunday!" you laughed, head buzzing and slightly tipsy as you and rory skipped through town hand in hand, off to your third bar of the evening.

"but you don't have work tomorrow so really it's more like a saturday!" rory grinned, london seeming to agree as the night life was no lesser on a sunday than it was any other night of the weekend, bars all packed out with drunkenly happy patrons.

"where are we even going?" you laughed as you stumbled, rory catching you and slinging an arm around your shoulders as she marched you both on with seemingly a clear destination and purpose.

"okay don't hate me, but we're going to test my skills as a wing woman." rory grinned, squeezing your cheeks together in her hand as she yanked you around a corner and into the line for yet another bar.

"no! no we are not." you shook your head firmly, trying to leave as her hands planted themselves on your shoulders, pushing you forward and toward the door.

"yes we are! you haven't slept with anyone since that horrid cow in australia and i love you so much but you're so fucking tense. you need a shag!" she kissed your cheek, the bouncer looking the two of you over and nodding for you to go inside.

"and just how do you know that! you don't know the ins and outs of my sex life rory." you scowled as she continued to push you toward the bar, the small venue cramped with people, majority crowded around the darts area on the other side of the room.

"what sex life?" rory teased, waving over the bartender as you scoffed and punched her arm. "can't believe you invited me out just to pimp me out, some friend!" you accused somewhat playfully.

"okay so you don't have to sleep with someone but what's wrong with a cheeky kiss? let your hair down baby! you're young, sexy and single." rory purred, shaking her shoulders suggestively and making you shake your head with undeniable amusement at her horrid dance skills.

"four jager bombs please." and with those buzzing through your head, you allowed yourself to be pulled onto the dance floor.

~

"ro you are the worst wing woman ever. that guy was like fifty and balding and that girl had a wedding ring on!" you managed to get out an hour later, now bordering on drunk as you clutched your stomach which was aching from how hard you were laughing.

"well i obviously didn't know that, i thought it was just a ring! queer woman love their rings." rory laughed, collapsing into you as the two of you huddled together on a table in the smokers area.

"see!" she held up your hands and pointed to the five rings scattered about your fingers. "hey if we're using that logic." you moved to grab her hands, pointing to her rings which only made the two of you laugh harder as rory extinguished her cigarette and the two of you returned inside.

"okay. what about him?" "no! balding again." "her?" "definitely straight." "him?" "definitely gay."

"her?" you glanced to the girl at the bar rory was obnoxiously pointing at, smacking down her hand with a laugh, though the sound died in your throat as the girl in question turned around and you recognized the blonde who was with her her right away.

"is that alessia?" rory gasped, already practically running over to the girl as you tried to grab her but it was too late. "rory!" you hissed, having no choice but to follow after her.

"less!" the blonde looked up, just having a second to put her drink down on the table and stand to her feet before rory launched at her. "oh my god! hi?" alessia beamed at her school friend, embracing her in a tight hug as you awkwardly hovered a few feet away.

you couldn't hear what else was said between them but you knew you'd been mentioned the moment alessia's head shot up, looking around until she saw you, rory already stumbling over and grabbing your hand.

"rory no i really don't think-" you started to quietly disagree but before you could finish your sentence you were at their table, multiple pairs of eyes boring up at you as you felt the back of your neck prickle uncomfortably.

rory introduced you both as you forced a smile and gave the group of girls a wave, only recognizing a few of them from when alessia played in the youth groups. "we went to school with alessia." rory explained, subtly pinching you as you still remained silent, nodding along with her words.

"well friends of less's are friends of ours, especially locals!" a girl you'd not met beamed, inviting the two of you to join them. "oh i'm sure they have their own plans!" alessia tried to save you, catching your eye and immediately noticing you were uncomfortable.

"oh we did but they backfired tremendously, turns out i am a terrible wing woman!" rory joked, pinching your cheek and yanking you down into a seat as you forced a laugh. one by one the girls introduced themselves as rory settled right in, joking around as if she'd known them for years.

"well well well, aren't ya a sight for sore eyes y/l/n!" you settled a little as you realised the body squishing in beside you was one you at least knew, ella pulling you into a hug. "all grown up now though!" the brunette joked, bumping her shoulder into yours as the two of you fell into conversation.

you could feel alessia's eyes bore into you from across the table where she sat, constantly glancing over to make sure you were okay. which is why it came to no surprise when you excused yourself to get another drink that she followed.

"i'm really really sorry, i genuinely had no idea you'd come here." the blonde apologized right away, eyes wide as the two of you hovered in a corner by the bar away from prying eyes. seeing the obvious guilt written on her face and not wanting to ruin her night you placed a hand on her arm.

"i don't own the night life in london less, you're more than entitled to go out wherever you want with your friends. i won't lie and say it didn't take me off guard a little though." you admitted with a somewhat awkward smile which the taller girl returned.

"i appreciate that you tried to redivert though. but we both know rorys quite the social butterfly!" you were quick to assure, having appreciated her attempt to let you leave and enjoy your own night.

"is this weird? because i can make some sort of excuse or distraction or something so we leave." the blonde worried, biting down on her bottom lip.

"no! no no please don't feel you have to do that, you deserve to enjoy your night with your friends. look it is a little bit awkward but friends do run into one another on nights out." you shook your head, nodding for the two of you to get a drink.

"don't even try it, i warned you next time i was paying." you joked in an attempt to lighten the somewhat tense energy between the two of you as were quick to pay for her drink,

"wouldn't have thought you were a gin girl." alessia smiled, nodding to the g&t in your hand. "rory's had me on jager and red wine all night, the gins a very welcome reprise." you sighed, the both of you sharing a small chuckle before someone pressed in between you.

"well hello there miss y/l/n." leah grinned at you, your cheeks going bright red at the obvious catching out. "failed to mention you two knew each other when you helped with the football sessions at the school less. care to explain?" she questioned, fixing the younger girl with a pointed look before ordering her own drink.

"we went to school together leah, there isn't anything to explain!" alessia shoved her playfully. "mm i think the lies call for a make up shot of apology." leah grinned wickedly, nodding to the three tequila shots in front of her.

you and alessia sharing a look leah wasted no time doing her own, gesturing for the two of you to hurry up as you sighed but placed your drink down, grabbing the shot in one hand and a lime wedge in the other.

"jesus christ!" you wheezed as the alcohol burnt its way down your throat. "leah no!" alessia groaned as the blonde ordered another round, her arm slinging over your shoulder as she grinned. "ah come on mate, live a little." she teased the striker beside her.

"was she this much of a drip in school?" leah whispered to you, purposefully loud as alessia shot her a glare. "no she's just never been able to hold her alcohol." you smiled, your head spinning from the first shot as leah let out a loud laugh and the two of you threw back the second, alessia following suit with a grimace.

"i like you." leah winked, smacking you on the back as the three of you returned to the table. your previous seat now occupied you found yourself sat beside alessia, pulled into a conversation with a couple of her other friends.

the alcohol flowing and all the girls incredibly welcoming your previous apprehension melted away and you found yourself much more settled. though really you could probably attribute that to the copious amounts of drinks bought for you.

which is how you now found yourself on the dance floor, singing along and dancing with rory as leah, ella and another two of their friends chloe and jess all joined in, some of alessia's group having called it a night and heading off having early flights.

"careful, you're looking a bit green there less." lotte mumbled to the blonde, whose eyes were fixated on you dancing now with chloe, in what could only be described as quite an intimate way. "what?" the striker frowned in confusion at the older girls words, though catching on her cheeks heated up a little and she smacked her leg.

"i told you lotte, we're friends and i'm grateful she's even allowed that. she can do whatever she wants." alessia shrugged, lying to herself and lotte who only hummed, turning back to her conversation with beth.

though as you slipped on your footing and went tumbling to the floor she was right to her feet, hovering for a moment as she watched ella and leah help you up.

"come on russo don't be a stick in the mud!" rory suddenly popped into her line of sight, grabbing alessia's hands as she swiveled her hips with a wink, dragging her onto the dance floor.

alessia shrunk a little in disappointment seeing you were no longer with the group, instead engaged in a conversation with a tall tattooed brunette a few metres away. "maybe not such a shit wing woman after all!" rory joked making a w with her fingers and gesturing to you as alessia forced a smile and a nod.

her eyes never left you as the brunette leaned in closer, the music loud as you giggled at whatever she said, her hands finding your hips and swaying the two of you back and forth.

alessia's stomach lurched at the way you grinned up at her, your eyes locked with hers and seemingly hanging off of her every word, nodding along as the brunette seemed to dominate the conversation.

the same way you used to look up at her, laughing at her jokes and hanging off of her every word. as alessia would stare right back down at you as if you were the only person in the room, because to her you'd always be the only one that ever mattered.

suddenly feeling a wave of nausea came washing over her she mumbled an excuse and darted off to the bathroom, ducking down and dabbing her cheeks with cold water, closing her eyes for a moment as the room spun.

"hey less you alright?" the striker jumped a half foot in the air at the voice of her captain, not having heard anyone follow after her. "yeah fine, just needed a sec to cool off." alessia smiled, trying to leave as leah grabbed her wrist, giving her a knowing look.

"hey, tell me whats happened."

~

having spent the last twenty minutes explaining everything to leah alessia almost welcomed the sticky atmosphere of the dance floor, a welcome distraction from the uncomfortable intimacy of pouring her heart out to her friend in the tiny bathroom.

leah wandering back to the table alessia tried to follow but ella pulled her back in to dance with them, pulling the puppy dog eyes and the excuse she flew back to manchester tomorrow and alessia owed her at least a few more dances.

and as much as she'd missed her boisterous best friend, it was you that her mind routinely drifted to, eyes flickering to where you now sat with the brunette from before, who still seemed to be talking your ear off.

everything seemed fine, and alessia began to try and accept that she soon would have to swallow her pride and watch you likely leave with this girl, no right or room to make any move to stop you.

but as the hours ticked away and the glasses on your table began to pile up, she wasn't the only one watching you cautiously as it appeared you could now hardly hold your head up, rory making her way over to interevene.

"hey, nearly ready to go?" you looked up through hooded eyes at your best friend who seemed to have grown a second head. "ro ro!" you slurred out with a grin, your head slumping to the shoulder of the gorgeous brunette beside you whose name seemed to escape you.

"she's fine, you and your friends should go." the girl smiled, though it didn't seem all that friendly as rory hummed, knowing you were far too drunk to be consenting to anything right now. "we will, but she's coming with us." rory spoke somewhat forcefully, you only giggling as your head lulled back and the room span.

alessia watched the whole interaction carefully, humming every now and then as ella rambled on beside her. she was content to let rory take the lead, however as the girl tried to help you up and the brunette beside her shoved her away, your head suddenly flying forward and crashing onto the table, she could no longer be a bystander.

"she can hardly keep her eyes open, she's leaving with us. so fuck off!" rory warned firmly, alessia squatting down and gently pulling you up to sit again, her hands shoved away by the brunette who you collapsed into with a laugh.

"do you want to leave with them love? aren't we having fun?" the girl asked you as you mumbled something incoherent.

"don't fucking touch her! she's practically passed out and she can't even say her own name let alone yes or no to your advances you creep. so unless you'd like us to call over security i suggest you walk away while you still can." alessia warned protectively, standing up tall and glowering over the brunette as rory slipped in to gently help you to your feet.

"whatever. she's not even worth it anyway!" the brunette scoffed, standing and walking away as alessia balled her fists, withholding the urge to run after her and knock some sense and respect into her, a feeling she'd not had in years, not even when she was pushed around on the football pitch.

"shit!" alessia hurried to grab you as rory tripped over her footing, also having had one too many drinks as noble as her intentions were as the two of you almost went crashing to the ground. "stay here for a second, i'll be right back." alessia helped you sit back down, leaning into rory who sat beside you and nodded.

"everything alright?" leah asked with a concerned gaze over her shoulder toward you. "they've both had way too much to drink and i can't let them get in a taxi like that alone." alessia smiled apologetically as she grabbed her bag, leah, lotte and beth all nodding in agreement.

exchanging hugs with her remaining friends and promising a stroppy ella that she would come and see her and mary in manchester the next weekend she could she hurried back to the two of you, leah following behind to help her get the two of you out the front.

"thank you leah, really." alessia hugged the older girl tightly once the two of you were safely sat in a taxi. "remember what i said yeah? right person, wrong time. if its meant to be, it'll be. if it's not, cherish what you had." leah reminded softly, kissing the strikers cheek and returning inside.

"where's your place less?" rory managed to get out, somehow having given the driver her own address as alessia gave the same. "i can't remember where she lives." rory winced, nodding to you who was now passed out entirely, face smushed against the cold window pane of the taxi, body curled into itself.

"i live a few streets away, she can stay at mine. i'm a bit worried leaving her by herself if she falls down and hits her head or something." alessia bit down on her bottom lip as rory could only nod, hardly able to keep her eyes open.

"you could stay too if you wanted?" alessia offered, reaching forward to tap her shoulder as the driver pulled away. "s'fine. my boyfriends home!" rory slurred with a shrug, alessia nodding and settling into her seat, glancing to you every now and then.

"we needa do breakfast or dinner or something!" rory stumbled out of the taxi as it arrived to her place, blowing alessia a kiss and making her way up the driveway, alessia requesting the driver wait till she got inside before driving off, nodding for him to go once she had.

the drive to her own house a little further away from town alessia's eyes fluttered closed as she crossed her arms over her chest, exhaustion starting to sink in as the time neared one thirty in the morning.

she jolted a little in surprise as something came crashing into her, but she relaxed seeing it was only you, your head resting on her arm as alessia carefully lifted your head and stretched out, allowing you to lean into her much more comfortably as her eyes slipped closed again.

she blinked tiredly as she felt the car come to a stop, rubbing her cheek and leaning forward, clumsily tapping her phone to pay for the ride, not even bothering to look how much it was.

"okay." she sighed looking down at you, popping her door open and carefully sliding out, propping you to lean back into the seat as she did. leaning in she unbuckled you, cradling your head in one arm as the other helped you out, balancing your shorter form which crumbled into her side as she kicked the door closed and walked toward her front door.

the stairs proving much too difficult she mumbled a soft apology well aware you had no idea what was going on, lifting you up and into her arms as she carried you up and to her doorstep as you mumbled incoherently.

setting you back down and rummaging through her bag she grabbed her keys, helping you inside and setting you to sit on her lounge. "lessi!" you managed out with a lopsided smile, eyes opening a little more as your head tilted to the side and you squinted up at her.

"yeah, its me." she smiled back, unable to resist as she ran a hand through your hair affectionately, moving your flyaways out of your face. but snapping out of it she snatched her hand back as if it had been burned, hurrying to lock her front door.

"okay, come on. bedtime!" alessia sighed, hauling you up and helping you to the spare bedroom, grateful she only lived in a single story apartment which meant no stairs. "we can't go to bed! we're not dating anymore silly." you slurred, poking her cheek.

ignoring your remark she sat you down, smiling a little as you laid down with a thump, star fishing in the bed as alessia wrestled your boots off. "okay. theres no way you can consent to this, how do we get you dressed?" alessia mumbled to herself chewing on her bottom lip, tapping her foot as your eyes slipped closed again.

noticing your dress was strapless an idea came to mind as she left you for a moment to pop to her own room, grabbing you some clothes to sleep in. "hey, we gotta get you changed." the blonde whispered softly, squatting down and tapping your leg, your eyes fluttering open as you nodded and forced yourself to sit up.

even though it was hours away alessia was already dreading the moment you'd wake up, knowing all too well the feelings of regret and embarassment which would likely flood your body. only selfishly she hoped unlike her you'd not run away before she woke up.

carefully slipping a large shirt on over you alessia helped you stand for a moment, tugging the strapless dress down and quickly helping you to step into a pair of shorts, leaving your bra and underwear on.

knowing the worst way to wake up was hungover with a face full of makeup it was to the ensuit she gently guided you to next, sitting you down on the lid of the toilet as she grabbed out the makeup wipes which always sat in here for when her friends stayed over.

"lessi!" you managed out again as she squatted down between your legs, gently holding your chin in one hand and wiping away your makeup with the other. "thats me." she promised with a smile as you hummed, closing your eyes as she wiped away your mascara, trying to be as soft as she could.

"missed you." you giggled, kicking her lightly as alessias smile turned a little more pained, knowing it was only the alcohol talking. "i missed you too." she still spoke quietly, popping the dirty wipes in the bin and sighing, her heart aching at the sight of you sat before her in her clothes, in her house, yet you were as far away from hers as you possibly could be.

helping you up and into bed she flicked off the main light, leaving the lamp on in case you tried to go to the bathroom later, pulling the duvet up to cover you in the dimly lit room.

"hey! stay." your hand shot out and grabbed hers as she turned to leave, eyes widening as yours remained squinted toward her. "you need to sleep." she forced another pained smile, gently pulling her hand out of your grip.

"stay lessi. please!" you whined now, rolling over and repeatedly patting the empty space beside you, looking up at her with a drunken pout. "i can't. you'd hate me if i did." she smiled sadly, running another hand through your hair, forehead warm to the touch.

"no. stay." you demanded again, though a little more tiredly as you patted the empty bed, eyes half closed as alessia hesitated, her entire body screaming for her to just walk away, and she should have, she knew that.

but, she didn't.

still dressed in the suit pants and vest alessia had gone out in she slipped in beside you, body tensing as you were quick to cuddle into her, tucking your face into her neck. "night lessi." you slurred out, hardly legible as you hugged her tightly, alessia slowly moving her arms to wrap around your midsection, doing her best to ignore the little voice in the back of her head screaming at her to get up and go.

but selfishly, she would take what she could.

your body eventually slumped into bed, breathing evening out as you finally fell back to sleep, alessia ever so gently prying your arms off of her, slipping back out of the bed.

if you noticed you didn't even stir, stretching out in bed with a deep exhale, mouth slightly ajar as you breathed soundly in and out. and if you'd have cracked your eyes open even just a few centimeters you'd have met alessia's hopelessly lovesick gaze bearing down on you.

or if you weren't so drunk you might have felt her lips press an affectionate kiss to your clammy forehead, lingering for a moment as she squatted beside you, other hand tangled in your hair as she inhaled deeply.

wrenching herself away she hurried out of the room, feet refusing to stop until she'd closed her door so quickly you'd think she was being chased and shutting out an intruder, her heart absolutely pounding in her chest as she slowly sank down, back pressed against the door as realization sank in.

alessia was still very much so head over heels, undeniably and most certainly problematically....in love with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

chapter ten

[anystalker707]

Denial

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender neutral] Reader Summary: Reader likes Sanji, but they're in denial. Tags: Bitter sweet / Sanji is very loving / Boyfriend material a/n: sloppy ass writing

MASTERLIST

          There was something about the waiter— Or better, cook. All the entertainment you had on the ship while you guys were about seven days away from another island—according to Nami—was watching Sanji cook. In the whole time you’d spent around, you’d never watched an actual cook doing their job, since it usually happened in the back of fancy restaurants, which you wouldn’t usually attend.

Sanji was skillful and did it so naturally that made you kind of mesmerized, clearing your mind as you sat at the dining table with an elbow over the surface and cheek against your palm.

You didn’t notice how lost you were until there was a loud slamming sound from outside. It was followed by giggles that sounded to be Luffy’s, and then Zoro’s complaining. Sanji was also startled, looking over his shoulder at the door’s direction, but then glanced back again.

“Oh, (y/n),” Sanji said with a hum as he continued doing whatever with that bowl hugged to his torso. “I didn’t notice you there, my bad. This is becoming a habit, hm? Would you like something?”

“Ah, no,” you mumbled and cleared your throat. The times you’d happened to talk to Sanji weren’t many, only occasional chats ever since you guys met at the Baratie, so you didn’t exactly know what to say. Most of the time, you were just watching Sanji interact with the others, sometimes even trying to flirt with Nami. The few times you were with him were for taste-testing or stealing bits of whatever he was preparing. He would complain before you two just settled for comfortable silence whenever you were around. “I just got nothing to do, and it’s too hot to sit outside on the deck. Am I bothering you, though? I can leave.”

Despite the fact he had his back to you, it was still possible to know Sanji was smiling. You followed him with your eyes, watching Sanji put the bowl on the table and take the cloth from over his shoulder to dry his hands. His sleeves were rolled up his forearms, and it was one of the few times you’d seen him without the blazer. It was fine, honestly. The fabric stretched over his wide shoulders, then tight around his upper arm, also stretched over his chest, and… Shit, he was looking at you now.

“It’s okay,” he said as he grabbed something from the far side of the table and a glass from the cabinet, falling silent for a couple of minutes. “I’m used to cooking in an agitated kitchen, so it can be lonely when it’s just me in here.”

Sanji eventually walked over to you and placed a glass in front of you; the drink had a bright color, a salt-coated rim with a slice of strawberry on it, and a clear red straw in it. The ice clinked against the glass until it settled down. How the hell did he do that so fast?

“To help cool down.” He winked before he walked back to his previous spot to carry on cooking.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked down at the drink, furrowing your eyebrows. Why was Sanji so nice? What was up with him? You sighed as you took the glass and sipped on it, and fuck, it was so good. How could he actually be this good? Maybe you were the one used to a crappy outlaw life before actually joining a crew.

You quietly sipped on the drink, unable to even look Sanji’s way this time. The glass hit the surface of the table with a little more strength than needed once you finished the drink, catching Sanji’s attention.

“Did you like it?” He paused what he was doing to look at you. “I could prepare another…” The words just trailed off as he gave up on talking the moment he saw you stand up and walk out of the kitchen.

          Despite knowing something was wrong, Sanji couldn’t do much more than watch everything happen. He could not define what was going on, but he surely missed the companion he had during cooking, even if you were just sitting there in silence for most of the time, sometimes napping over the table.

Sanji also sort of felt like he didn’t have a say in this either. If he decided to question you, and you hit him with a ‘you do not know me’, he wouldn’t have much to do other than agree and just go with it.

A sigh escaped his lips as he paused his cooking. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much, but it did. He looked at the ingredients displayed before him for a long moment to gather his thoughts and remember what he was supposed to do now.

“Sanji,” Luffy’s voice pulled him from his thoughts, making Sanji look up. “Got any snack? My stomach’s aching.” He twisted his mouth as he stepped closer, looking over Sanji’s shoulder to see what he was doing.

A small chuckle came from Sanji as he shook his head to himself and pointed off to a plate he’d left on the corner. “There are some sandwiches, if you’d like to take it to the others I’d be… Okay, never mind.” He just opted not to argue when he saw Luffy walk away—he’d bitten one of the sandwiches, widening his eyes and humming about how good it was before walking away with three or more of them in hand. “No, wait, Luffy!”

Luffy hummed, muffled by the food, as he stopped and looked at Sanji.

“Would you perhaps know what (y/n)’s favorite dish is?” Sanji raised an eyebrow.

Luffy furrowed his eyebrows and thought for a moment, shrugging a little before he took the sandwich out of his mouth. “I don’t know, but they mentioned they really liked what you prepared for dinner last Thursday.”

It took Sanji a moment to remember Thursday’s menu, and he nodded. “Thank you.”

Another sandwich was already in Luffy’s mouth as he hummed, giving Sanji a thumbs up before he left.

Okay, Sanji could try to do what he did best now. Once he finished making dinner, he would prepare the dish. He didn’t mind preparing a little extra food just for you if it meant having a chance of making amends, even if he didn’t know what was wrong, exactly. He wasn’t even sure why he was putting so much effort into it. Maybe it was just to make sure he was on good terms with everyone.

Sanji nodded to himself. “You got this,” he whispered, “for the crew.”

The idea had anxiety drumming under Sanji’s skin, constantly wondering what you would think of the dish and maybe make things better than they were before. He kept looking at the galley’s door while the crew walked in—or at least Nami and Zoro finally walked in because Luffy and Usopp had been at the table ever since the smell of dinner started filling the deck. Sanji’s breath hitched in his throat when he saw you walk in and take a seat. He quickly took the plate, and before you could start serving yourself, he slipped it in front of you.

You blinked a couple of times, observing the exact meal from a few days ago that you’d loved so much, and looked around to check if someone else had that meal. They didn’t. You looked up at Sanji, seeking an explanation, but all he did was flash you a smile before he moved on.

“Oh, why’s yours different?” Luffy gasped as he looked at your plate. “Let me—” He clicked his tongue and glared when Sanji swatted his hand away before it reached your plate.

Okay. Not bad. You quietly started eating, making a mental note of what was going on. None of the others commented on it, so you didn’t either, continuing to eat. The only open seat was by the other end of the table, making it easier since you didn’t have to face Sanji now. Would you be able to hold yourself back from snapping if he opened his mouth?

Something shifted in your chest at the thought of that meal. How did he know you liked it so much since you’d not told him a word about it? Only Luffy and Zoro were there with you when you had dinner out on the deck, and the probability the two dumbasses were even listening to anything you said was very low. Did Sanji want to talk with you after the meal? Just the thought of facing him again made your stomach churn, so you quickly finished eating and, as soon as Luffy caught everyone’s attention by trying to eat it all by himself again, you left the galley.

That kind of stuck in your mind for a while, unfortunately. You couldn’t even hold yourself back—you were looking over the window on the door to the galley, watching Sanji cook the next morning. He woke up so early in the morning to make sure he cooked the best meals for the crew. Everyone had bonded so quickly, and you all already felt so comfortable with each other. It made you think sometimes.

Part of you still wanted to walk in there and watch Sanji cook as you used to, but another part still cursed Sanji. Why was he trying so hard to make it up with you? As long as you and him fought and worked together as a crew, that’d be enough, right?

“Oi,” the sudden voice pulled you away from your thoughts, and you saw Zoro standing there. “What are you doing? Did the waiter burn the water?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Can you help me with something?” Zoro said without much emotion, but that was to be expected. Formulating his thoughts wasn’t exactly his strong point. Maybe thinking itself wasn’t one of his strong points in general.

“Depends.”

“Look, I can’t find any weight in here, but I gotta train,” Zoro sighed, “would you sit on my back while I do push-ups?”

You thought for a moment, humming. “And the others?”

Zoro pressed his lips together and sighed. “Luffy and Usopp won’t sit quiet, and Nami doesn’t want to do it.”

With a sigh similar to his, you nodded. “Okay, fine.”

It was a little awkward at first, but you quickly got used to it, finding a point of balance on his back. He was quite more resistant than you’d judged at first. You observed the sea—the weather was quite pleasing in the morning like this, with the sun shining weakly over the sea and the main deck, making a nice contrast with the cold breeze. Watching the waves got you a little dizzy, hence you averted your eyes away and tried to think about something else.

“Y’know,” you mumbled, patting Zoro’s head a little. “What are you doing regarding your swords?” Sometimes, you’d think back to how easily Mihawk had reduced them to bits, and it made you want to do anything not to get in his way, at least not yet.

“Finding new ones once we reach an island,” Zoro said through the huffs.

You thought for a moment. “Buying it? You don’t seem like you’d use just any sword, and I don’t think we have money for something like the Ō Wazamono.” Was his hair naturally green like that? You had to lean forward and inspect his roots a little, running a hand through the strands.

Zoro didn’t answer for a while, only the sound of his heavy huffs coming from him for a few reps. “You think too much.”

“I’m afraid of you,” you mumbled and patted his head a little, but not lightly.

“Stop doing that!” He grumbled without stopping his push-ups. It made you laugh, so you did it again, resulting in more complaints and laughter.

Spending a while with Zoro had been good, honestly. Well, you didn’t know if he could say the same about it, but you’d enjoyed getting your mind off the Sanji matter, even if not for long. You’d not even noticed how deeply you’d been thinking about it until now. It was easier to think about Sanji, and the idea of going back to your routine of watching him cook was very tempting.

You headed over to the galley after Zoro said he didn’t need your help anymore, and Sanji was there when you walked in, cooking as usual. Ah, fuck, why did he have to look like that?

“San—” You’d barely said his name when he stepped out of the way. Okay. Maybe he was too busy to help you right now, so you just stepped ahead and grabbed a glass of water yourself. You were about to say something to Sanji when Zoro stepped into the doorway.

“(Y/n),” Zoro said, still a little out of breath, “need something again. Also, bring some water, please. Or sake, if you can.” And he was gone just as that. You huffed.

Helping Zoro had you busy with Zoro for a long while, so you were a bit late for lunch, even if you’d been dying to leave already.

“You two are getting stronger?” Luffy said with a grin, watching you and Zoro sit down, with wide eyes.

“Something like that,” Zoro muttered, so you said nothing as you started serving yourself.

Though you couldn’t place what, this feeling in the back of your mind alerted you something was missing. You kept eating your food, just listening to their conversation, still a little too tired to talk. When you reached for your glass, however, you noticed it was empty. Sanji hadn’t filled it as he usually did. He hadn’t greeted you, either. Okay.

Luffy was eyeing you weirdly during lunch, so it was no surprise that he pulled you with him to the deck the moment you were done eating.

“What’s going on?” Luffy raised an eyebrow. “I’m sensing some kind of tension. Is it the food? You’re always in a mood during the meals.”

It made you want to chuckle a little, honestly. “No. There’s nothing wrong.”

“I’m the captain,” Luffy said as he placed a hand on your shoulder. “You can trust me with anything.”

Such a captain, huh? Not like you could complain about it a lot.

“Yeah,” you sighed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The answer didn’t please Luffy completely, but his lips curled in a reassuring smile before he let go of your shoulder.

Right when you thought you could solve things, it seemed to get a little worse. You’d tried to step into the galley, but the same welcoming feeling it always had wasn’t there. Staring at Sanji’s back felt intimidating instead of pleasant, so found yourself leaving the galley without even actually doing anything. Your muscles would lock before you could even say anything, mind screaming at you. The light mood from the morning felt long gone now, like a dream in the back of your mind or something that’d happened days before. How was it eating you from the inside out?

That kept you up at night. You kept rolling on the bunk, sometimes sleeping for a few minutes before waking up again. That fucking sucked. The same subject came roaming over and over your mind, and you thought about how nice Sanji always was. What was that for? What did you ever do for him? Nothing. Okay, nothing… Maybe the problem was there. Your chest heaved a bit the more you thought about it.

Eventually, you felt your bladder complain, and the very faint sleepiness you felt just faded away completely when you were heading back to the quarters. A glass of water wouldn’t hurt, right?

A faint slice of light cut through the darkness, coming from the small and round window in the galley’s door. Was Sanji on the night watch for today? Since overthinking had fucked you up so many times, you decided to just go with it this time, trying to keep your mind clean as you walked into the galley.

A glass of wine rested on the table as Sanji sat on one of the stools, with a cigarette and a cookbook. Why did he have to look like that? Your breath stopped in your throat, but you moved before your muscles locked again.

Sanji did acknowledge your presence, of course, but why didn’t he say anything? He kept his eyes on the book, even when you stood in front of him for a couple of minutes.

“Sanji,” you whispered. Why did your voice sound so weak?

There was silence, but Sanji did react this time. He blinked before his eyes finally met yours. “Are you hungry? I can prepare you something in no time.” His lips stretched into a smile, a tired one.

“Can we talk?”

Sanji furrowed his eyebrows for a moment, looking away, before he looked at you again. “Sure,” he said, though it sounded like a question.

“No, like—” You clicked your tongue. It was so hard, for some reason. “Are you alright?”

His mouth opened and closed a couple of times, that air of confusion remaining on his face as he thought about what to say.

“Okay, let me say something else,” you mumbled. You couldn’t lose that spur of courage. “I love your cooking. That day when you made the meal that I love just for me… That was very nice of you. And you were always letting me try whatever you were cooking, making me some treats. Sorry, okay? I wasn’t very fair with you.”

Sanji’s expression softened as he observed you. He glanced at the book before he closed it and put the cigarette out against the table. He shook his head a little. “It’s okay. I know those aren’t always welcome, and all.”

“Well, I welcome it,” you whispered. “I just— I don’t know. I actually enjoyed all of those so much, I just—” It was hard to even organize your thoughts about it. Why were you so reluctant about accepting it when Sanji was nice? “I’m sorry, okay? I was an asshole, but I didn’t mean to.”

A sigh came from Sanji as he shook his head a little to get his bangs off his eyes before he stood up. “Okay, I accept your apology. However, I’m also sorry for being a little too pushy.”

“Don’t think about it like that,” you sighed. “It was all so nice, I just didn’t know how to appreciate it. I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t really think too much about it until today.” Exactly because he stopped doing it today, but you didn’t know how to address it directly.

Sanji hummed, tilting his head and running his tongue between his lips. “Ah, yes. I also meant to apologize for that. It’s not new that my relationship with mosshead isn’t the best, but I wouldn’t contribute to major conflicts within the crew.”

It made your mind shortcut for a second. “What?”

“I don’t want to get in the way of your relationship with him.”

Your relationship with Zoro? Maybe you were still too sleepy because it took you a while to understand it, looking blankly at Sanji until you breathed a chuckle, shaking your head. “Sanji, are you going crazy or something?”

Sanji furrowed his eyebrows lightly. He really didn’t know what to say. He just shook his head a little. “Um, just to make sure, we’re good for now, yeah? Will I still have the pleasure of your company while I cook again?” The way those words made your heart flutter was fucking shameful, even more with that smile of his.

“Yeah,” you finally mumbled with a nod. The tension that once clung to your muscles was now gone, thankfully, and the sleepiness that you longed for so much now clung heavily to your eyelids.

          The bowl that Sanji handed you still had some cake filling in it, enough to fill a couple of spoonfuls if you were determined enough, and thankfully, you were. You licked the spoon before starting to scrape the bits off the bowl, humming at how good the flavor was. You’d really missed that.

“How’s that?” Sanji asked as he carefully set the second layer of cake over the carefully spread filling.

“Good,” you said while still eating. It was hard to criticize Sanji’s cooking, and you were not an expert in most of the dishes he prepared, so it was hard to even know what they were supposed to be like.

Sanji smiled and nodded, grabbing the icing this time. He was spreading it over the cake when you stood up and dipped your finger into the icing, taking a bit of it with a hum.

“This is good!”

After eyeing you for a solid minute, Sanji scoffed, shaking his head with that smile of his. “Of course it is. Now, don’t go around eating before I’m done, yeah? What are you doing if I end up needing more than expected?”

You raised an eyebrow, putting aside the bowl that once contained filling, now truly empty. “Well, then make more. That’s not stopping you. I know you’re a good cook. Like, the best I know.”

A chuckle came from him as he glanced at you. “How many cooks do you know?”

Your lips twisted a little. “Blow below the belt,” you mumbled while he chuckled more, making you smile lightly. Sighing, you observed him still decorating the cake, and it was hard not holding yourself back from trying to get some icing again, just that he caught your wrist before you could do anything. “Hey!”

“What did I tell you?” Sanji raised an eyebrow. He grabbed a little of the icing with his finger and wiped it on your nose before he let your hand go, his hip bumping against yours to push you away lightly.

“You’re no fun,” you mumbled while wiping the icing away with your finger and then licking it.

“Am I supposed to be fun?” He asked, and you seriously cogitated jumping on him; he sensed it, of course, chuckling. “I’ll stop bothering you. I just can’t help how adorable you look when frustrated.” Something played in his eyes as he looked at you, making you look away immediately. Ugh, he was so difficult. He chuckled again. “Come on, look at me, let me see your face.”

“No,” you groaned. “Just finish cooking, Sanji.”

Sanji hummed softly. He walked around you, and showed up by your other side, putting his face in front of yours. “I told you not to look away!” He placed a hand on the counter by your other side, hence you couldn’t walk away or anything, just trapped in there.

“I hate you!” You glared, but the way he didn’t even react just had you so angry. You turned around and groaned, holding onto his lapel to shake him a little, which did nothing but make Sanji chuckle more. “Why are you like this to me? All you do is mistreat me!” The little dramatic rant didn’t do a lot more than amuse Sanji, never wiping that grin away from his face.

“Oh, poor (y/n)! I’m so evil!” Sanji rolled his eyes as you stopped. “Maybe if you weren’t so annoying….” He kept that smug tone as he held your chin between his fingers, keeping your face towards him.

“What are you doing?” You clicked your tongue. “You’re the annoying one!”

“Stop moving!” Sanji glared without stopping smiling, and you felt his thumb wiping the corners of your lips. You raised an eyebrow before biting down on his thumb. “Ow!”

“That’s what you get!”

“That’s what I get?” He scoffed and chuckled. “Well, I’ll show you what you get!” His hand easily squeezed both of your cheeks together, ignoring the way you kept complaining as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. You couldn’t do a lot more than blush and fall silent, observing Sanji with your cheeks burning red. “Oh, so that managed to calm you down? Maybe you deserve a little more,” he chuckled.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[munsonsmixtapes]

Take it Off

Older!Eddie x fem!reader

Summary: Eddie takes you on a date and can’t stop thinking about how beautiful you look in your dress, and most importantly, what you’d look like out of it.

This is a continuation of my older!Eddie request!

word count: 4.4k

cw: reader is 25 and Eddie is 40, MDNI 18+ smut (p in v) , hurt/comfort if you squint

You stared at your reflection in your full length, mirror, second guessing your outfit for the thousandth time that night. The dress had fit you like a glove and hugged you in all the right places, but you were still unsure if it was the right choice. There was a lot of riding on your date with Eddie and you weren’t sure he would like what you were wearing.

You had bought the thing after you had gotten off of work and even though the saleswoman had insisted that it had looked amazing on you, you were still unsure. It was a pretty shade of blue that complimented your skin tone perfectly and it stopped at your ankles, just short enough that you wouldn’t trip on it.

You were about to change once again when there was a knock on your door. Your heart hammered in your chest as you reached for your purse and shoes. Eddie hadn’t told you were you were going and just asked you to dress nice, which made you nervous.

You practically ran to the door and opened it, Eddie on the other side, looking like a dream in his maroon button up shirt that was only buttoned up halfway, giving you a great view of his tattoos. The shirt was covered by a black blazer that was paired with black slacks and pair of dress shoes.

His mouth practically dropped open at the sight of you, his eyes slowly raking down your body. He thought you looked perfect, the dress hugging every curve of your body.

“Hi,” he smiled and you mimicked it. “You look fucking amazing.”

“Hi, and thank you. So do you.” you replied and he held out his hand to you. His fingers were naked, his rings that usually adorned them, missing. You stared at them, taking in how slender they were, wondering how they would feel intertwined with yours, wondering how they would feel shoved up your-

“Ready?” He offered you his hand and you looked down at your feet, realizing that they were still bare.

“Hold on,” you told him, placing your hand on his shoulder so you could put on your shoes and he rested his hand on the small of your back to make sure you were steady. Once they were on, you took Eddie’s hand and the two of you walked to the elevator.

His hand was warm and rough and you wished you could have held it forever, hoping that if you played your cards right, he’d let you. He gave yours a squeeze as he turned to you with a bright smile which you returned.

You couldn’t believe it. After months of crushing on Eddie, you were actually going out with him. And he had been the one who had asked despite your want to do it. And thank god for that since you knew you wouldn’t have been able to get the words out without sounding like an idiot.

The two of you got to the elevator and Eddie pressed the button that led down to the lobby before pulling you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“What was that for?” You asked as he just looked down at you with his Bambi eyes. They were so pretty and warm and looked at you with so much affection that it warmed your heart.

“Does there have to be a reason?” There really didn’t, but you were going to ask for one anyway.

“No,” you shook your head.

“I just like to kiss you, how about that?” You liked the sound of that, pulling Eddie even closer to you, moving your arms underneath his blazer.

“Then please continue.” You smiled up at him and he couldn’t help but do whatever you said.

“Happy to.” He pressed his lips to yours once again as the elevator doors opened. Eddie backed you inside, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he did so. The kiss was sweet and gentle despite all the ones you had shared the night before.

“Where are you taking me?” You asked against his lips.

“Why don’t you wait and see?” He pulled back to look at you, his hand moving up to your cheek.

“Why don’t you just tell me?” Eddie was starting to like seeing that side of you. He liked the idea of making you beg.

“You’re impatient.” he pressed his lips to your neck, peppering it with kisses.

“You’re going to have to get used to that.” He supposed he would, and he could. He really could.

His mouth sucked on your neck and just as you made a noise at the sensation, the elevator doors opened at the lobby. Eddie was quick to remove his lips from your neck and took you by the hand again, leading you to the front door.

Once there, he opened the door and let you step out first, resting his hand on the small of your back as he took you to his car, wanting to keep you safe in the dark of the night. And maybe he just wanted an excuse to touch you.

As soon as you got to Eddie’s car, he was quick to open the passenger door for you, gesturing to the seat.

“Oh, thank you,” you said and slowly got into the seat before Eddie closed the door. He rounded the front of the car and joined you inside, sitting in the driver’s seat.

You looked around the vehicle as Eddie started it up, noticing just how nice it was, loving the color of the cherry red interior. You didn’t know what Eddie did for a living, but you were sure that it payed a lot.

That caused you to wonder why he was living in your apartment building when he could have easily lived somewhere nicer. You were grateful, though, that he had been your next door neighbor. Convinced that it had been fate that the two of you were there together that night.

You didn’t care if it seemed silly to believe in that sort of thing, but you were hoping that maybe, possibly that Eddie was the exact right person for you. He was sweet and caring and even though you hadn’t spent that much time with him, you knew that he cared about you. Why else would he have carried that heavy chair up for you?

Eddie’s car rolled up to the restaurant and your eyes widened at the very fancy building before you. You could see the nice tables with the white table clothes and candles through the window. Couples were drinking glasses of wine and chatting happily over their overpriced food and you were mesmerized by a world that you had never entered. Maybe dating an older man had its perks.

The car door was opened for you, but the person opening it wasn’t Eddie. It was a man in a vest and he held out his hand with a smile. You gratefully took it and he helped you out of the car while Eddie handed off his keys to the man in front of him.

You joined Eddie on the sidewalk and the two of you watched the man drive Eddie’s car away before Eddie turned to you. You had never been to place that was so nice that it had valet parking. This was a whole other life you never thought you’d be apart of.

Eddie wrapped an arm around your waist and led you inside to the hostess stand where you could see the woman behind it eyeing him with a flirty look.

“Reservation for Munson,” he told her as he pulled you more into his side. She nodded in response and grabbed two fancy looking menus before turning on her heel to lead you both to your table.

“Right this way.” She led you to a table further into the restaurant, an area that was little more private and you wondered what strings Eddie had to pull to get you into that space. Probably many.

“And here we are,” she stopped at a table closer to the back and set the menus down on the table before putting on a bright smile. “Enjoy,” was all she said before turning on her heel, leaving the two of you alone.

Eddie was quick to pull out your chair for you and you sat down before he pushed it closer to the table. He then headed over to his side and sat across from you, putting on his million dollar smile. You both put your napkins in your laps then opened the menus, your eyes widening at the prices. The only thing that you could have afforded there was the water and that was only because it was complimentary. You could barely afford your rent, let alone a seventy-five dollar steak.

“Eddie,” you looked up at him, panic evident in your voice. His eyes snapped up at you, wanting to know what was wrong. The date had just started and he had already fucked up?

“What’s wrong?” He asked, lowering his menu so he could see your face.

“This place is really expensive and I don’t think I can afford-“

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved his hand in a dismissive manner. “Order whatever you want. I’ll take care of you.” His words seemed so sincere and you could tell that he wasn’t trying to buy your affection, but you were still felt a little bad.

“But-“

Eddie hated that you were worrying about money when he was supposed to be treating you. He would have never asked you to pay for your own meal when he was the one who had asked you out. And he hated that you were worrying in general when you were supposed to be having fun.

“I’ve got all this money and I need someone to spend it on. Why can’t it be you?” Why couldn’t it be you? You had dated so many losers in your lifetime and deserved to finally be treated right. And you trusted that Eddie could do just that. If the date had gone well, maybe you could have seen yourself having a future with him.

“Why should it be me?” You were younger than him by a lot and were sure that there was alone of women waiting for just a sliver of a chance with him so why you?

“Because you’re the only one I’d want to spoil. You’re sweet and kind and very easy on the eyes.”

“Can I ask you a question?” There was something that had been weighing on your mind and you needed to know the answer.

“Of course you can.” His hand reached for yours and gave it a reassuring squeeze accompanied by a soft smile.

“Did you only ask me out because we had sex last night?” His eyes widened at your question and his eyebrows furrowed, almost as if he was offended.

“No, honey, of course not.” His thumb rubbed your hand sympathetically, wondering what would have prompted you to ask such a question. “I asked you out because I’ve liked you for a long time.”

“You like me?” You were shocked by his confession. Sure, you had assumed that he liked you since he had asked you out, but you never expected him to actually admit it.

You had never had luck with men. They either were too interested or never even spared you a second glance. Dates were always a disaster, ending in terrible sex or you left before the check came because of their awful behavior. And then once nice guy came along and you almost didn’t believe him because why would a guy like that be interested in you?

“Of course I like you.” The words were followed by a chuckle as he continued to rub his thumb along your knuckles. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yes.” You wanted to know all of Eddie’s secrets. You wanted to know every single thing about him, to share stuff about himself that no one else knew.

“I wasn’t even going anywhere last night. I saw you leave your apartment and I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.” Why would he have needed an excuse to talk to you? You would have dropped everything just to have a conversation with him.

“Why would you need an excuse? You could have just talked to me.” He could have, but he had every intention of asking you out and the thought made him nervous. He hadn’t liked anyone like that in a long time and suddenly, his usually moves didn’t seem to go right.

“I didn’t want you to think I was weird.” You never would have thought Eddie was weird. And even if you did, you would have welcomed his quirks with open arms, deciding that those always made people unique.

“I’d never think that.” You shook your head as a server approached your table. With your permission, Eddie ordered a wine for the table that you had never even heard of, let alone could pronounce. Hearing him pronounce the French words so perfectly was making you a little wet. His accent was so hot and you didn’t even know he could speak French.

“So, French, huh?” You asked as the server went to fetch your wine.

“I spent a summer in France with my uncle Wayne.” That sounded about right. Of course he had been to other countries. That was typically what rich people did. Not that you would have known anything about that since you wouldn’t have even been able afford your dinner without Eddie paying for it.

“That’s really cool. Does he live there?” Your conversations with Eddie always flowed so easily, like you were old friends instead of neighbors that barely knew each other.

The server dropped off the wine and served it to you both before taking your orders then heading back to the kitchen to put them in. You took a sip from your glass, assuming you were going to hate it, but were pleasantly surprised by the flavor. It was very sweet, which surprised you since you would have figured that he liked wine on the dryer side.

“He does now,” he nodded, taking a sip from his wine. “He’s got a famous bakery there.”

“That sounds amazing. Good for him.” Eddie seemed very proud of his uncle and that warmed your heart. They seemed very close, almost like father and son.

“Have you ever been?” To France? Absolutely not. You had almost had gone with your great aunt, but she randomly decided that she was going to take your cousin instead. And you totally weren’t still upset about it.

“Nope, never even left New York.” You tried to not sound so bitter when you said the words. You had always wanted to travel, but it was just never in the cards.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to take you sometime.” He leaned closer to you and pressed his lips to the hand he was still holding before letting your hands fall back to the table. Despite his flirty tone, you could hear the truth in his words. He really would take you to France.

“I guess you will.” You took a sip from your wine and tried to pace yourself, not wanting the first time you got drunk around Eddie being in public. That would have just been embarrassing.

“Can I just say, you look beautiful tonight. Honestly, it’s kind of distracting.” Your cheeks flushed at his comment and you were hoping that he just thought it was the alcohol.

“You’re the distracting one, leaving nothing up to the imagination.” You gestured to his practically open shirt and found yourself wanting to trace his tattoos with your fingers. You wanted him tell you the stories behind them and exactly what they meant.

“That was on purpose and clearly it worked.” He winked, taking another sip from his wine.

“Clearly.” You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of his chest, finding yourself wanting to run your tongue all along it, wanting to feel his chest hair under your fingers.

“How about we take our food to go and move straight to dessert?” You liked that idea. You liked that idea a lot. Your dress was suddenly feeling uncomfortable and you desperately needed Eddie to take it off.

“I’d like that.” You nodded furiously, bitting down on your bottom lip as you noticed Eddie’s eyes darkening.

The server brought by your meals and Eddie requested to go boxes only for the server to take the dishes back to the kitchen to pack it up for you. The boxes were set on the table along with the check and you tried to get a peek but Eddie pulled it out of your line of sight before you could see it. He pulled his wallet out of his blazer jacket then reached for one of his many card before putting it in the top of the little book.

He turned his attention to you and you brought your foot up to the side of his leg and grazed it. His eyes darkened even more as your leg moved up and down his leg, his dick getting hard thinking about having his way with you in his backseat.

The served couldn’t have taken Eddie’s card and brought it back soon enough as the two of you were practically racing out of the restaurant, him leading you through the place as if it were a maze.

As soon as you got out onto the side walk, Eddie grabbed you by the hips and pulled you to him, pulling you into a rushed and heated kiss. His tongue found yours very quickly and they swirled together as you both tried to hold back your moans.

Eddie pulled away as the valet brought his car up to the curb and he was quick take the keys back, helping you into the car before rushing over to his side. He started up the car and sped up, close to flooring it as he flew down the street, desperate to get the two of you back to his apartment.

The ten minute drive felt like agony, the two of you aching for each other as Eddie pulled into his usual parking spot. He helped you out of your seat then led you inside, making a beeline of the elevators. He pressed the “up” button on all three of them for a greater chance to get upstairs faster. One of them opened and he shoved you into to it, pushing you against the wall and his mouth was on yours, this kiss hot and desperate. Your hand moved to his shirt and quickly unbuttoned it, moving up to his hairy chest. You licked into his mouth as the elevator doors opened and you both slowly made your way down the hall, lips still attached.

“Hold on.” Eddie pulled away, reaching into his pocket for his keys. He fiddled around with them before finding the right one and unlocking the door. He let you go inside first and you couldn’t help but notice how nicely decorated it was. Definitely nicer than yours.

Eddie grabbed hold of your hand and quickly turned you around to face him, his lips capturing yours once again. His lips moved down to your shoulder, pressing gentle kisses to it. He removed the strap to have better access and moved his hands up your back, resting them on the zipper of your dress.

“This is a beautiful dress, sweetheart,” he mumbled against your skin. “But I think it would look much better on the floor.” You got even more wet at his words, desperate to let him have his way with you.

“I agree.” As soon as the words left your mouth, Eddie removed the straps from your shoulders and slowly sliding the zipper down your back. The thing pooled at your feet and Eddie got even more hard once he noticed that you been completely naked underneath the dress. You collapsed onto the couch as Eddie ditched his own clothes in record speed, making sure to grab a condom from his pocket.

He rolled the thing onto his cock then practically throwing himself on top of you, taking no time to thrust into you. You let out a loud moan at the sensation and he took that as an invitation to continue, pounding into you as hard as he could.

You both made multiple sounds of pleasure and Eddie loved watching you come undone underneath him, your eyes closed, your head tilted back, your hands scratching up and down his back.

You grabbed onto Eddie’s ass, your fingers digging into the skin as you tried to get him farther inside of you. You needed every single inch of him. He let out a yelp at the feeling, but wasn’t afraid to admit that he liked the sting.

“Need more of you, Eds.” You arched your back, trying your best to take all of him.

“I’m doing to best I can, sweetheart,” he continued to pump in and out of your cunt, moving as hard and as fast as he could, wanting to do whatever he could to please you. “Sure you can take it?” He was just afraid of hurting you.

“I can take it.” You opened your eyes and showed him that you meant it. “Please.”

“Okay,” he let out a sigh, knowing that he couldn’t never say no to you. “You ready?”

“Was ready five minutes ago-oh,” your complaint was cut off by a loud moan falling from your lips as Eddie fit all of himself inside of you, letting out a moan of his own. It felt just as good as you thought it had and you were surprised he could even get it all the way in with how big he was.

He continued to pound into you, his fingers digging even further into your hips and you knew for sure that the pressure was going to leave bruises. Not that you minded. You actually preferred it, wanting him to leave marks all over your body.

Your nails moved to his back and scratched up and down it as he continued to thrust in and out of your pussy, more and more moans escaping both of your mouths.

“Look at you, taking me so well,” Eddie commented between breaths. “Look like a princess underneath me. God, you’re so hot, you don’t even know.” He pressed bruising kiss to your lips and you were quick to return it, your hands moving to his hair as he took your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a soft nip. You tugged at his hair and he took that as an invitation to continue, biting even harder. You gave his hair another yank as a whimper fell from your lips and he diffused the sting with his tongue before sticking the thing into your mouth, letting it scrape roughly against yours.

Eddie pulled away and continued to thrust into you, slower this time, the two of you starting to lose the stamina you had before, but not wanting it to end.

“So good, Eds,” you moaned. “Faster, baby,” you slurred and Eddie just let out a chuckle.

“Aww, don’t go dumb on me, love,” he moved the sweaty hair that had stuck to your forehead and pressed a kiss to it. “Think you got one more in you before we go to bed?” You absolutely did not, but you were going to try and convince him that you did.

“Mmm,” was all you responded with and Eddie took that as a sign that you both needed to go to sleep. He pulled out and cleaned the both of you up before wrapping you up in one of his blankets before carrying you to his room when he realized that you could barely walk. Well, let’s be honest, he would have carried you even if you could walk.

Eddie careful set you down on his bed then moved to his closet for some pajamas. They were a silk pair, his favorite. He wouldn’t have usually let anyone wear them, but he thought you deserved special treatment. Once he dressed himself, he moved over to you with the pajamas in his hands.

“Need to dress you, angel. Is that okay?” He wanted full consent before he continued.

“I’d rather you undress me,” you slurred, trying and failing to make your tone flirty.

“You’re already undressed,” he laughed.

“Dress me, baby,” you ripped off the blanket and Eddie stepped forward, tossing the pajamas onto the bed before reaching for the top.

“Arms out, angel.” You did as he said and put your arms out as he put each arm into a sleeve then buttoned the thing up. He then reached for the pants and slid them up your legs, pulling them up until they rested on your hips.

Eddie stepped back, taking a moment to admire the way you looked in his pajamas. His friends had teased him for having his first and last initials sewn into the pockets of his pajama shirts, but it didn’t seem so silly now, considering that was where your heart was. God, he was so down bad for you and he didn’t even care.

“Alright,” he reached for your hands, pulling you to your feet. “Time for bed.” He pulled back the covers and helped you get under them, your legs still feeling like jello.

“What about brushing our teeth,” you asked, not loving the idea of going to bed without the minty taste in your mouth.

“I’d be happy to brush your teeth, angel, but you seem a little too tired for that. Would a cuddle make up for it?”

“Always.”

Eddie got into the bed next to you and pulled you into his arms, giving you a bright smile. You mimicked it as well as you could in your tired state and Eddie just laughed in return.

“Get some rest, angel,” he pressed a kiss to your forehead before snuggling further into you. “I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a sigh of content, hoping that you could wake up next to that man every morning for the rest of your life. Little did you know that only a few months later, he’d get down on one knee and ask exactly that.

[1hot-mess-express1]

Changes

(Toji X Reader)

Synopsis: Toji gets a new job and looks hot in a suit

CW: (thinking about) Oral (male receiving), (role play) boss/employee dynamics, language (obvs it's Toji)

AN: This is still pretty short (1.1K) but I'm working my way up to longer fics, definitely haven't written smut in ages so I kind of chickened out there at the end haha

Convincing Toji to settle down and get a ‘real’ job went about as well as one would imagine. He was all teeth and mean comments about how you’d miss the money, how you’d fall out of shape, even going as far as to say that he needs time away from you on jobs for your relationship to work out—but you know Toji, he didn’t mean any of that. He’s just slow to change, no matter what that change is, but especially if that change is someone else’s idea, even you, his sweet, beautiful, second chance at life, the calm after the storm. 

Just as you were about to give up hope on pulling Toji out of his dangerous career, you heard his heavy footsteps descending the stairs of your home. His muttered words were barely audible but hinted at a brewing storm. You wiped your hands on your apron, wondering what possibly could have him this riled up so late into your evening. Maybe Shiu called him for another extended job that would have him away from home for a few weeks. You step into your living room with bated breath, praying that you’re wrong, hoping that you can play house with him for a bit longer before you’re reminded of what your husband really does for work. What you saw there was nothing short of astonishing. 

Toji stands in the middle of your shared living room, trying to button the cuffs of his button-down shirt. His large hands slip away from the too-small buttons, turning the task into a nightmare as he groans, eyebrows knit, and jaw clenches. You think for a moment that he must not have detected your presence as he continues to struggle and swear under his breath until he pulls you from your thoughts. 

“Ya just gonna sit there staring at me, or are ya gonna come help me with this stupid fucking shirt,” he turns to face you, and you see a light blush dusting the tips of his cheeks as he drops moves a hand to run through his hair, avoiding your gaze. 

He has an expensive black suit jacket over the light button-down, slacks, and matching dress shoes. His unruly mop of hair looks like it’s been pushed back a bit to look more professional. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Toji in anything this nice before, not even at your wedding; he insisted on wearing jeans and sneakers (mostly cause you wouldn’t let him go shoeless-- yes, that too was a fight). 

He must have noticed your gawking cause he snaps at you again, “Hey! Woman, come put those tiny fingers to good use for once,” the corner of his lips pull into a devilish smirk, and suddenly your face is heating up at the realization that he caught you gawking. 

“Y-yeah, sorry,” you say, making your way to stand in front of him. Staring intently at the tiny opalescent buttons on his wrist, you try desperately to avoid his burning eyes, which are burning holes into the back of your head. 

Your delicate fingers slip the pretty button into its home as your eyes start to linger, raking over his built thighs, noting how the fabric clings deliciously to the well-built muscle there. Fuck, if you’re really looking, just under the simple leather belt, you can see the shape of his fat cock through the light fabric. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as your mouth goes dry. Daring a glance upward, you can see how the fabric of his dress shirt pulls slightly as if his chest barely fits in the damn thing; the well-fit blazer only makes his shoulders look impossibly bigger.

“Hey, I’ve got two hands, airhead,” he chuckles breathly into your ear, causing the hairs on your neck to stand straight up as he moves to gently kiss your temple. 

“S-so uh, what’s with the outfit?” you curse yourself momentarily for letting him know how much he affects you; even after all these years, he still makes your body react with the simplest touch. 

You feel his body freeze for a moment at the side of your head before speaking, “Oh uh, Shiu got me a job; I’ll be security at one of those upscale clubs downtown,” he buries his face into the side of your hair mumbling his words into it, “Why? You don’t like it, doll?”

After fastening the second button, your arms wrap gently around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer, “No, I love it actually, just a little surprised, is all.” Your fingers begin to card through the hair at the nape of his neck, causing goose flesh to rise as Toji wraps his arms around your midsection, pulling you closer to him. 

“Tell me how much you love it, beautiful,” he whispers into your ear. His fingers play with the tie of your apron as his other hand snakes under your shirt, and warm hands trace circles in the small of your back. 

A shiver runs through your spine before you speak, “You look handsome, honey. Like some executive business prick…definitely the type of guy to fuck around with his secretary.” You can hear him chuckle as he moves to place open-mouth kisses under your ear, enjoying the way you start to fidget within his grasp. 

“Keep going, baby.”

You let out an audible gasp when he nibbles on your ear lobe, hand moving down to caress the fat of your ass under your pants. “You look so big in that suit, Toji, like a strong, respectable businessman.” You let out a breathy laugh at the last part as Toji places his behind your neck, craning down so your noses just barely brush one another. 

“Is that right, doll? Ya wanna be my good little secretary then? Hm?” He bites gently at your bottom lip, pulling your hips in closer so you can feel all of him better. “Ya gonna be a good girl n suck me off under the table? Gotta keep quiet though or everyone in the office will know you got that promotion on your knees” You let out a breathy moan at the thought of having your mouth stuffed full with his cock, drool cascading down the sides of your mouth and staining your pencil skirt as he speaks with employees as if you aren’t below him, gagging, trying desperately to stay quiet. The thought alone has you pressing your thighs together as he moves his hand to trace over the gloss on your bottom lip, smearing the sticky substance around and staring with a predatory gaze at how you part your lips to lick at the tip of his finger before he presses it further into your mouth. You wrap your lips around the digit and stare up at him with those pleading eyes like you were begging to have his dick down your throat. Fuck, he doesn’t think he’s so mad at the change anymore, not when it means he could keep you around his office as a personal stress reliever from now on.

[answer2jeff]

ready for another lie?

// carmen berzatto x reader

song: Diet Mountain Dew.

pairings: nyc chef!carmen x journalist!reader

mdni!! i'm not responsible for your media consumption.

warnings: smutty smut, VERY DETAILED, fem!reader, oral and fingering (f!recieving), porn with plot, drinking, cursing, kinda subby carmy, praise kink, alludes to piv but it doesn't happen, complete and utter filth, i'm giving the people what they want don't look at me!!!

essentially a prequel, 1 year before the start of season 1 of The Bear.

"Fuck youuuuu! It's Friday, loosen up!" A groggy voice yelled from across the bar, cursing you for declining another drink.

You watched your friends flirt with the bartender over the course of 2 rounds of shots; causing harmless fuckery with the several guys who tried flattering them. You were actually bored for once. It made you sick.

You waited for something, anything else to impress you. You tried convincing yourself you didn't have to leave, that your friends wanted you here, and that nights like these were "good for your soul," but there seemed to be no hope.

"Just two vodka tonics. Oh, and a white Negroni. Uh, yes— yes, thank you." You caught a blonde curl from the stool next to you in the corner of your peripheral vision, and you dared to turn your head. You were met by the sight of an oddly familiar guy—and then it hit you like a semi truck.

The man you wrote your final thesis on "the senses creating art," about. Food & Wines best new chef, as of late.

You'd spent an entire year and a half traveling the world (after finally making a name for yourself as a journalist, and snagging a place in Food & Wines top writers) and interviewing the faces of all forms of modern art, representing one of each of the 5 senses.

Casey French, a fragrance designer as the face of "smell." Christopher Knowles, a fashion designer who specialized in optical wear as the face of "sight."

The list went on, until it ended at Carmen Berzatto, on "taste," just 6 months ago. It was September now, and you almost forgot about the 2 and a half hours you took from your day to sit down and talk to him in that studio. Your heart dropped to your stomach as you felt the pores in your palms release a nervous sweat.

You blinked rapidly, wondering if you were really seeing him— out of all the other Friday nights, when he could've visited all the other bars. But he chose this Friday, at this bar, next to you. You needed to say something.

"I'll take a Negroni too, actually. And you can just close out my tab for tonight." You handed the bartender your card after you anxiously fished it out of your wallet, trying to seem completely oblivious to Carmen's stare. Carmen clenched his teeth, his eyebrows raised in surprise as he kept his gaze focused on you.

"Holy shit! Is that—" A slightly younger man nearly yelped while he inappropriately pointed at you, quickly being shut down by his peer, and being told to "shut the fuck up," but Carmen stayed silent. He was dumbfounded at the sight of you.

"Uh, hi. Funny seeing you here," you croaked, swallowing hard when you realized how much of a horrible excuse of a "hello," that was. Carmen didn't seem to mind, dragging his head out of the clouds and smiling back at you as he received his glass.

"Oh my god, yeah. Wow, I— it's good to see you."

Carmen glanced down at your drink, watching you trace your fingertip around the rim of the short glass. He gazed at your fresh manicure, the beautifully layered rings on your fingers, the diamonds on your wrists, the black dress with a slit that exposed your leg up to your mid-thigh. Carmen always thought you looked nice, only being used to your blazers and gorgeous vintage pants that he was a little jealous of, but this was different.

And as if you weren't already anxious enough, Carmen's "friends" immediately arose from their stools and made their way to an empty table, leaving the two of you alone again. Just looking at him and his clean suit and tie made you nervous, especially with the ink on his hands still visible.

"Good to see you too, Carmen," you smiled, cheeks aching as you tried desperately to hide your excitement. Admittedly, you admired him. That wasn't new. But that feeling in your stomach, that aching, yearning feeling was.

"I don't usually do these things," Carmen mumbled, taking a sip from his glass and licking his lips.

"Me neither. It's kinda— I don't know, icky."

You knew Carmen avoided big gatherings like this, but they were usually tolerable thanks to people who "knew him" enough to let him hang around their groups in silence while they practically screamed at each other. But his free time just never seemed to align with anyone else worth talking to... until tonight.

"Icky. Couldn't have worded it better," Carmen tried not to laugh at your expense, keeping his tongue between his teeth as both of you fought back a smile.

"You get it! God, anyway—how've you been?" You inched closer to him, resting your chin in your palm as your elbows were propped up on the counter. You made sure to keep your stare on him and only him, glancing from his nose, to his lips, and back into his eyes. You knew exactly what you were doing, and it was too late to stop now.

Carmen paused, his mouth gaping open slightly as he thought of what he could possibly say to convey that he could be doing better, without completely ruining the mood. He sucked his teeth as he took a deep breath, his eyes glued to the floor until he finally looked at you again.

"Alright, I guess. Managing. How're you?"

"Managing. But really though. Like, has anything changed?"

Carmen thought about your question, realizing how much he seemed to relax tonight—while simultaneously being the most nervous he'd ever been outside of work in the last year. Was it being out and public after a long week? Was it the fact that he still felt so stupid for not getting your actual number, and instead only having access to your business email which was provided by your agent? Was it the smell of your perfume? Was it just you?

"Uh... yeah. Yeah, I guess some things have changed."

He couldn't help but awe at the way you did your hair and your makeup that night, appreciating the tiny details your jewelry and purse of choice added to the look. He hardly ever thought twice about the attractive women he'd run into; making small talk and watching them get bored with his interests.

But now you were here; his fantasies, his desires were here, right next to him; wearing a dress that flattered your cleavage and cinched you at the waist, black heels that tapped against the footrest of the barstool. It made his head foggy, and he couldn't even wrap his head around the encounter.

After finishing your Negroni's over the course of 3 separate conversations that left you with a cramp in your side and your cheeks hurting from smiling—basically hitting it off like you were actual friends, you decided to pull the classic...

"You wanna get out of here?"

Two successful, somewhat well known adults in their lines of work were allowed to be human, right? They were allowed to share deep belly laughs with someone they didn't originally plan to see outside of a work setting, right?

Wrong. It was unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted: everything you promised you'd never be around him.

Carmen knew this.

But he was eye-fucking you in that goddamn interview. His tattooed hands rubbing against his thighs as he sat in front of you in the white light of that studio, his gentle voice contradicting his large, almost intimidating arms—it was all you could think about when you wrote your thesis. And now you were gonna be alone with him.

And despite his worries, despite the nervous sweat beading on his forehead, despite his growing anticipation when he admired your figure like a horny teenager, Carmen agreed. The smirk on your face and your manicured nails in between your pearly white teeth was convincing enough. He knew it was risky, given the fact that you still wrote for Food & Wine every couple of months: being more than capable of ruining his career with one wrong, but so right move.

"Yeah, actually."

Unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted.

Fuck it.

Carmen closed his tab, gently helping you down from the barstool by your hand. You held your purse close to you while waving a shy goodbye to your friends, who were drunkenly squealing in excitement for you. Carmen's peers seemed to be out of sight; therefore, out of mind. You felt your cheeks go hot, every part of your body tingling. Neither of you knew where you were going. Just not here, and not with everyone else.

He couldn't even think about the fact that he would be back in the glowing white light of the kitchen that following Monday, and you completely forgot about the paper you had to start by Sunday night. And it was way too late to care about any of that now.

You decided your apartment was best.

"Fuck.." Carmen grunted under his breath, his eyes hooded while he felt his pants tighten against his throbbing length. He spread his legs wider as you palmed him, trying to ease some of his tension. You hovered over him as he lied down, sprawled out on your leather couch. His hands were clawing at anything he could reach; your hair, your thighs, the straps of your dress until he pulled it down to your hips, and finally the clasp of your bra.

His bare chest heaved, red and covered in sweat. His dress shirt, tie, and jacket were somewhere in the mess of your apartment. He was honestly too desperate to care.

"You okay with me takin' this off?" Carmen whispered as he cupped your cheek, keeping his fingers prepared to unclip your bra with your permission. He admired every inch of your flushed face as he waited for answer.

"Mhm," you soothed him as your hand moved up and unbuttoned his pants the second your lips moved onto his. Saliva pooled in your mouths with every kiss, turning into a sloppy mess of tongue and teeth. Carmen struggled, but eventually tossed your bra onto the living room floor, his mouth just centimeters away from yours as he exhaled heavy breaths.

You sat up straight, pulling Carmen up by his shoulders and smashing your lips back into his. He pulled sway to breathe, taking it upon himself to peel the rest of your dress off. His tattooed hands gently caressed your plush thighs, his calloused fingers sliding under the hem of your lace underwear. He practically worshiped you like this, planting open mouthed kisses along your jawline and neck.

Carmen needed to hear you, feel you, taste you.

"I wanna taste you, if–if that's alright," he placed one last kiss of gratitude on collarbone before he looked up at you through lust-blown, half-lid eyes.

Your entire body began to heat up again, and Carmen's words went straight to your needy cunt. You could feel yourself dripping through your panties while you put a hand over your mouth in embarrassment, nodding frantically.

"Please," you begged, a mixture of a moan and a silent cry escaping. Carmen's hands detached from your thighs, your hips writhing up from the loss of contact. Without another word, he nodded his head, letting his hands travel down your hips as he got down on his knees in front of you.

Carmen took a shaky breath, glancing from your pleading eyes and back down to your bottom half. He hesitated, choosing to plant one more line of kisses from your tits down to your navel before giving you one last look for permission. He put his hand between your inner thighs, asking you to spread further. You blinked slowly while he peeled your panties off of you, wondering if he would notice how wet you already were.

Unprofessional, inappropriate, unwarranted.

Carmen licked his lips, admiring the sight of your puffy slit in hesitation. With your body sprawled out in front of him, your pretty face looking down at him...how could he not eat you out right on that leather couch?

"I've got you, baby," Carmen cooed, his eyes wide as he nearly drooled over the glossy puddle in your underwear. He gently placed your calves over his shoulders, his calloused hands scooping the underside of your thighs.

Carmens wet tongue licked a bold stripe from your hole up to your soaked clit, not a drop of your arousal going to waste. You grew impatient, the kitten licks he gave your sensitive bundle of nerves driving you mad.

"C'mon, Carmy, I—" You whined, pleading that he'd pick up the pace. Carmen decided not to hold back, giving your throbbing clit aggressive sucks that he'd later soothe with slow, flat-tongued licks.

You bit down on your hand while the other entangled in his hair to muffle the sinful noises you made. Carmen felt his stomach turn at the sound of his name falling from your gaping mouth.

Carmen took note of how much you loved his tongue diving into your weeping hole, earning whimpers and cries of "please," and "oh, fuck, Carmen." He groaned into your pussy when you caught a grip on his hair, placing his head even deeper between your thighs. He moved his hands from your thighs and up to your waist—forcing your jerky hips down on the couch. He wanted to make sure you didn't miss a single bit of pleasure.

"Can I.. uh, can I try something?" He stammered, picking his head up with his chin shiny with your liquids as his hand crept back down, prying between your folds. Carmen needed to keep every part of him busy so he wouldn't have to focus on the aching bulge, already leaking precum in his boxers. He felt his thighs clench as he fucking whimpered beneath you.

"S–sure.." You nodded frantically again, tossing your head back as Carmen carefully inserted a digit into your core. You whimpered in slight discomfort as he stretched you out, which he immediately reassured softly.

"Shhh... you're alright. Jus–just relax f'me, yeah?"

Carmen waited until you whined again; his fingers started at an agonizingly slow pace until he heard your moans getting a little too quiet for his liking. He picked his pace up, sliding another thick finger into your hole and ramming into your g-spot. He hesitated, afraid to hurt you—but you quickly dismissed his worries when you urged him that you needed more. Carmen aligned his tongue back with your pussy, sucking hard before comforting your desire with lapping at your clit.

"Oh my god, Carmen," you felt that familiar knot in your stomach, your grip in his hair tightening while your moans grew louder and louder. You didn't care if your neighbors could hear you through the thin walls of your apartment. You didn't even think about what this would look like the morning after—because none of it mattered. Not with Carmen's head between your thighs.

Carmen could tell you were close, prioritizing your pleasure before he could even register how badly he wanted to cum into his boxers. He couldn't help but buck his hips forward, begging for friction while every noise you made just inched him closer to his release... but he needed this to last.

"You close? Let me take care 'f you," he mumbled, breathing heavily against your pussy while he tried his best to stay still. It sent shockwaves through your body, and you tried desperately not to scream his name.

"So... so close.. Fuck, it's too much," your useless protest was cut short by a loud moan, muffled by the sweaty palm of your hand. Your heart pounded in your head as your walls clenched around Carmen's fingers. You weren't used to anything feeling this good in months.

"C'mon baby, you can handle it. You're alright. You're doing so good. Takin' my fingers so fuckin' good," Carmen's raspy voice comforted you. His tongue finally came back to relieve you, his fingers slowing down so as to not overstimulate you, as much as he wanted to.

"Carmy!" Your eyes screwed shut as your thighs shook. You chased your high, practically grinding into his face as his nose bumped your clit while his fingers remained at work.

—

"Jesus..." You panted, grunting in disappointment when you felt Carmen slide his fingers out of you. He licked them clean while your eyes were screwed shut as you tried to recollect yourself. Carmen planted a kiss on your temple the second he sat back up onto the couch, pulling you into his lap by your waist. You felt his erection against your crotch, his already sticky mess combining with your wetness yet again.

"You okay?" Carmen cupped your cheek, pushing any sweaty strands of hair out of your face. And just when he thought he couldn't have felt more proud of you, he melted into the feeling of your lips against his.

You didn't know if you'd ever see him again, you didn't know if this night would magically become niche hot gossip within your respective groups; all you knew was that you wanted him. His lust blown eyes on you, his hands gripping your waist as he bent you over your kitchen counter and fucked you dumb, the sound of sex echoing through your apartment.

Maybe some other Friday night.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 5.2k (including intro)

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut (18+ only), enemies to lovers, sub!neil/dom!reader, slightly dubious consent?, orgasm control/denial, praise and degradation, oral sex m receiving, come eating, riding, a touch of breeding kink, semi public sex

do NOT read this until you have read the FIRST PART or it won't make any damn sense!!

"So, whaddya say, Mr. Lewis?"

"I say… suck my dick," he returned with a smug smile.

You just laughed.  "Maybe I would if I thought you could last more than thirty seconds."

His face got a little redder as he glanced away.  "Seriously?  You think I'm that helpless?"

You shrugged.  "I think I'm that good."

He looked at your face for a moment, a certain look in his eyes— a look that made it seem like he wanted to take you up on the challenge.  “Of course you do,” he smirked, “guys probably tell you you’re funny, too.”

“Sometimes,” you agreed, “but I’m not joking now.”

He stiffened up a bit.  “I don’t have a stamina problem,” he assured.

"If you're so confident, let's bet on it," you offered.  "I’ll blow you, and if you last thirty seconds or less, I'm buying the place.  More than that, you'll never have to see me again."

“Jesus,” he sighed, avoiding your gaze for a moment.  “Is that really how you make a deal?”

“It’s one way we could make this deal,” you returned, “and it sounds like a lot more fun than all the other ways.”

“You have an unfortunate habit of overestimating yourself,” he noticed.

“Then this should be easy for you.”

He hesitated, laughing nervously, but you stared forward so he knew you were serious.  After a tense pause, in which he opened and shut his mouth a few times as if nearly saying several different things, he sighed a bit.  “O-okay, yeah,” he relented, and you had to fight back a smile— not because you were actually that excited to suck some random video store owner’s dick… but because you were pretty confident that you just bought yourself some prime real estate and that promotion you’d been gunning for.  “S-so, um, how do we—?”

You cut him off by pushing him back into his chair with a grin, already loving the slight look of desperation on his face as he looked up at you.  "Let me get a little more comfortable first," you explained as you slipped your blazer off and tossed it aside.  

Then the shirt— one button at a time, not too slowly but without any sense of urgency.  “Y-you don’t have to do all that,” he promised thinly.

“Be patient,” you encouraged with a wink, “I just can’t afford for you to… stain any of this.  I have to go back to the office today, you know.”

He nodded a little in understanding, his chest filling and sinking a little more with each breath as he watched you strip.  For something you’d managed to spin as practical, you were doing it with a bit of… flair, slowly pulling the shirt off your shoulders and dropping it to the floor as his eyes were glued to your chest.  Of course, it helped that this bra wasn’t exactly ‘practical’ either… you only let your eyes drop for a second to the growing bulge in his jeans.

You started to push your skirt down, watching his eyes follow the fabric as more skin was revealed, only to tug it back up just before you got anywhere too exciting.  "Or maybe I should leave this on," you decided, making him whine and look up at your face pleadingly.

"C-c'mon," he panted.

"Maybe if you ask nicely…" 

He hissed in a breath through his teeth.  "Please…" he whispered.

"Hm?"

"Please take it off," he sighed, and you smirked at the way his hips jumped up a bit as you pushed it down to reveal your matching panties.  “Fuck,” he choked, “you dressed up like that just to come here?”

You shook your head.  “I had other plans today,” you offered cryptically, and if he was going to ask more questions about that, he forgot them when you stepped out of the skirt and right up to where he was sitting.  “Should I leave these on?” you asked as you ran a finger along the top of your thigh-high stockings, seeing him struggle to form a thought as he looked at them and then back up at you.

“Y-yeah, maybe… maybe leave those on,” he breathed, “the floor might be cold.”

“Oh,” you cooed, “you’re such a gentleman.”

You knelt down in front of him, rubbing your hands up his thighs through the jeans as he swallowed thickly.  Each time you slid your hands over his legs, you moved a little higher, until you were just barely brushing over the bulge under his fly.  You bit your lip and looked up at him, savoring the nervous expression he was wearing.

You opened the button of his jeans, and took your time with the zipper; you giggled a bit when you felt his cock flex, even through all the layers of clothing.  

“You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?” you teased in a soft voice.

“N-no,” he denied.  

“Really?  You never wanted me on my knees in front of you?” you pressed.

“Well, that’s sort of a different question,” he breathed, whining slightly under his breath when you got his fly open and reached in to rub him through his boxers.  “Oh, t-take it out,” he instructed, but you just laughed.

“Let me do this my way,” you replied, and he seemed to realize then that you were teasing him on purpose, to make his side of the bet all that more difficult.  It would’ve been reasonable for him to call you out on your cheating, but he was too busy reaching forward to feel your tits through the bra; he groaned a little, squeezing them eagerly.

You did take it out, of course, after barely a minute of teaching him through the fabric, and you bit your lip as you wrapped your fingers around his warm, firm length.  It was a little bigger than you bargained for, but you weren’t exactly worried— after all, you were going to make sure you didn’t have to do this for very long.

Licking your lips as you stroked it— and trying to make it look like an instinctive move rather than a deliberate choice— you watched him as he stared down at your face and then your hand, a drip of clear precum already leaking from the slit.  You hummed as you picked up your pace a little, still mostly just exploring him, but squeezing him in your palm too just to watch him squirm a bit.

You leaned in and gave it one long lick, with just the tip of your tongue, all the way from the base to the head, and he hissed a little with his next breath as he stared down at you.  You hummed at the slightly salty taste as you lapped up the thin arousal, and his chest sank with a long breath.

"Okay," you smiled, "you can start counting now."

"O-one," he choked out, voice getting thinner as you wrapped your lips around him and bobbed your head.  After all that teasing, you had to be efficient for the next thirty seconds: you sucked hard and stroked with one hand while the other slowly rubbed his balls, hoping to give him the full treatment and make this quick.  "Two, three—"

You pulled back but kept stroking him.  "Not so fast," you scolded, "look at your watch."

"Sorry, fuck, um," he groaned, glancing at his watch to try to keep the correct time.  "Two… three… four…"

Your spit was running down to smooth your hand's movements, and he groaned as he started to buck up into your mouth.  His hands held your head, fingers tangling into your hair as you kept going.

"Five, six— oh god," he moaned, head tilting back for a second… but when he looked at you again, you looked up and met his gaze.  He bit his lip, already breathing heavily as he watched you.

He never forced your head down, really, but you could feel him trying to guide you, trying to make you move a little faster and take him a little deeper.  You could do that— you moaned around him as you pretended to let him take the lead, figuring that was what he needed to feel in control right now.  But as soon as you did, he tightened his grip on your hair and tried to slow you down… and you wondered if he was already realizing this bet might have been a little out of his pay grade.

“Ten,” he choked out, groaning as you flattened your tongue more to rub along the underside of his cock.  “Ele—oh, fuck— e-eleven…”

You moaned again, one of his hands slipping down from your hair to the back of your neck, even running over your shoulder and lingering on the strap of your bra.

Speeding up slightly, you tried to subtly twist your hand while you stroked and just keep a steady pace— once you found the right thing, you just needed to stick with it, and something about the hoarseness of his voice as he moaned for you seemed like a sign you’d found the right thing.  “Baby,” he mumbled under his breath, and you had to try not to smile since it would just get in the way of things.  You would definitely not be letting him get away with calling you ‘baby’ if your mouth wasn’t full…

Even you weren’t focused on the numbers anymore, putting all your energy into this as you bobbed your head on him.

“Oh, fuck, fuck!” he yelped when his tip brushed the back of your throat.  “Twenty— oh god…”

Home stretch, just ten more seconds, you thought to yourself, if that… he sounds pretty fucked up.  And it’s not that you hated this so much, it was actually turning you on more than anything to hear him sound so desperate— but you already had your eye on the prize, and you could’ve probably attributed the wetness gathering in your panties to the mental image of telling your boss tomorrow that you finally bought out Gumshoe Video, just as much as what you were actually doing right now.

"Twenty-t-two, twenty-three," he kept going, voice getting a little deeper now, and you wondered with a hint of nervousness if he could really make it— he was flexing in your mouth already, but maybe he could hold it back.

You moved faster, pretty much as fast as you could, and shut your eyes tight as you hoped this would work— you didn’t quite realize it at the time, but you were more motivated to make him come for the sake of it, than for the consequence of owning his store as a result.

“Twenty-eight,” he gasped, and you sucked even harder as desperation started to kick in— but then he choked on a moan, and flexed in your mouth again.  "Stop, stop!" he begged suddenly, and you stilled before pulling away with a smile.

"Can't take it, huh?"

"I just need a second—"

"No, you don't get a second. I already gave you thirty," you reminded him.  “I win.”

“N-no, wait,” he panted, only to open his eyes wide when you stood up and slid into the chair with him, straddling his lap.  He looked up at you in the most adorably pathetic way, his hands shakily coming to rest on your waist.

“It won’t be so bad,” you promised, “we have fabulous benefits, you know.”

He was clearly not paying attention, whimpering as you moved forward and rubbed yourself against him through the thin lace.  “F-fuck, please,” he whispered, and you smirked.

“You wanna fuck me?” you asked, acting totally surprised by it.  “I thought you hated me.”

“Yes,” he sighed, “and yes.”

Grinning, you sat up enough to pull the panties aside and guide him to your entrance, watching him choke on nothing as you teased his head with your slick lips.  

“F-fuck, you’re wet,” he noticed, sounding more proud of himself than you intended him to be.

“I get that way when I’m about to get what I want,” you shrugged, just a moment before sinking down and taking him all in one relatively-quick motion.  He moaned loudly and held on tighter to you, but you gave him no time to rest at all as you moved right away, riding him with a contented sigh and struggling not to openly laugh at his almost-pained expression. 

Obviously, he wasn’t actually in pain, it was just a look of conflict as he realized how badly he wanted to come and how bad it would be if he came right away— but you’d brought him right to the edge, after all, and you watched physical instinct and fleeting logical reasoning battle in his eyes as his eyes watched you bouncing on top of him.

“Fuck,” you moaned softly, humming when his head rubbed right against that spot inside you— you guided your movements to hit it every time, a nice little shiver running over you.  “Fuck, Neil, it’s good…”

He was obviously affected by the praise, and you rocked your hips faster as you watched him struggle even more to hold himself together as his head tilted back against the chair.

"You'd better not come inside me, Neil," you warned sternly.  "If you do… well, let's just say as your new employer, we're proud to offer a rather generous paternity leave."

"Oh god, oh god," he choked, yet holding on tighter to your hips while you moved.

"Not gonna knock up your boss on your first day, are you?" you laughed, reveling in his panic.

"You're not my boss," he panted, "not 'til I sign the paperwork."

"Oh, honey," you purred, "I already own you."

He whined and bit his lip, shutting his eyes tight— but you couldn’t let him run away that easily, you couldn’t let him hide from what was happening to stop himself from coming too fast: so, you took his hands off your hips and guided them up to your chest, all but forcing him to feel your tits again as he moaned louder and obeyed.  “God,” he breathed, “I— I don’t know if I can take much more of this—”

You hummed with a little pout, leaning in and lifting his chin with your fingers.  “Poor thing,” you cooed just before you pressed your lips to his, kissing him hungrily while riding him even faster.

He moaned into the kiss, clearly overwhelmed but still trying to kiss you back.  When his hands moved to your hips again, trying to slow you down, you grabbed them by the wrists and pinned them down to the arms of the chair, making him groan and buck up into you.  

“Just let me use you, baby,” you breathed against his lips, making him whimper and nod.  “Y’wanna feel me come, don’t you?  You wanna make me come?”

“Yes,” he groaned, “fuck— yes, please—”

“You can take it, right?”

“God,” he winced, speaking through his teeth as you moved your kiss down to his neck.  “God, fuck— I think I can—”

“I think you can,” you agreed, “you’re gonna be good for me—”

“O-oh, fuck,” he moaned, his cock flexing inside you again when you bit playfully on his neck.  You hoped to leave a mark, thinking it would be funny to make sure he couldn’t hide what had happened— but then again, it might not be the smartest idea… not that any of your decisions in the last five minutes were based on smartness.

Your hips rocked on instinct now, pressure building and twisting inside you until you couldn’t help but drop your head back with a long sigh of pleasure.

“Please come, please come,” he begged in a weak and high-pitched whine, and as much as you were amused by his desperate attempts to get you to finish before he did, you were also pretty into it… as in, it was working.  You’d only been doing this for a few minutes, but you’d had quite a bit of fun sucking him off and, well, he looked so cute begging.

You moaned and moved a little faster, holding on tighter to his wrists.  “Fuck, I’m close,” you promised.

“Oh god, oh god,” he whined, hands tightening into fists as you held them down.  “Baby, please,” he choked, and you smiled as it hit you.  You wondered if watching you come would be enough to send him over the edge.

“Oh fuck, Neil, yes!” you shouted, hoping to give him a show so he wouldn’t be able to help himself.  “Oh my god— so good, baby, you feel so fucking good—”

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he chanted under his breath, shutting his eyes tight— but then opening one a second later and groaning at the sight of you.  

The feeling began to pass as your thighs quivered, your whole body exhausted by the motions just as much as the draining power of your orgasm.  Stilling on top of him, you let go of his wrists and sighed with relief, resting your hands on his chest.  He shuddered, and you pretended to remember that he was waiting to come.  “Oh— do you want me to—?”

“P-please,” he choked.

You pulled yourself up until he slipped out of you, both sighing for slightly different reasons.  You reached down and wrapped your hand around him, laughing softly at how swollen and reddened his tip was— it almost looked painful, and the way he winced when you gingerly stroked him almost sounded painful.

Your free hand stroked his hair as he leaned his head forward against your chest, panting with exhaustion.  “Please, please,” he whispered between breaths, over and over.

“You did good, baby,” you promised him, “you can come now—”

He groaned and did it pretty much instantly, you could feel it running down over your fingers and even getting on his shirt and pants.  You clicked your tongue pityingly as he bucked up into your hand, his face fallen slack in pleasure and weak moans falling from his full lips.

“Poor thing,” you said again, watching him go totally limp under you— and his exhausted cock starting to follow suit— as the last little drip of come ran down over your fingers.  You brought your hand up to your mouth and licked up what had gotten on you, which his sleepy eyes watched in awe.  Before you swallowed, though, you pulled him by the jaw into another kiss— slow and sloppy, feeling him shudder as he tasted his own spend.

When you figured he’d had enough, you suddenly pulled away and slipped off of his lap, putting your panties back in place and starting to pick up the clothes that had scattered on the floor.  You wondered if he would say something, though you couldn’t imagine what, but found yourself a little surprised to be dressing in silence.  Then again, when you looked over at him, he was staring forward blankly and looking absolutely drained— in every sense of the word.

After getting fully dressed— though you figured you still probably looked less composed than when you got here— you slipped back on your heels and wondered if there really was nothing else to say.  “The paperwork will come in the mail,” you informed him simply as you turned to leave, and only then did he reach out and grab your wrist.

“W-wait,” he stammered, “I— I need to know when I’ll see you again.”

You considered that for a second, eventually shrugging.  “I don’t know, I work in acquisitions— once you’re acquired, you’re not really my concern anymore.”

“Really?” he breathed, smiling but seeming sort of frustrated.  “None of what just happened seems… concerning to you?”

You laughed a little, stepping closer to him again as he finally got himself in order— and groaned a little as he realized how bad the stain was on his shirt.  “Neil, my job is pretty simple: I need to make this place profitable.  Or, I need to make you make this place profitable… that’s going to take up all of our spare time.”

“So, if we’re losing money,” he posited, raising an eyebrow, “would you need to come here and… discipline me?”

“Don’t get too excited,” you scoffed.

“Why not?  Shirt’s already ruined.”

“Listen, I know that was… great,” you sighed, “but we should still establish boundar—”

He stood up and cut you off with a kiss, sudden and needy as you sighed against him.  He reached up and held your face, before dropping his hands down your waist and pulling you closer.  You were just about to melt into it when you (mostly) came to your senses and gently pushed him back.

He was looking right into your eyes, a pleading sort of look in them, as you broke away from the kiss.  “Boundaries,” you finished in a whisper.

“Yeah— okay,” he nodded, “I can do boundaries.”

He kissed you again, both of you getting a little more desperate as your arms draped around his shoulders.  It went on for quite some time, your breathing getting heavy again and the softest moans getting muffled by his lips as his body pressed against yours.

You looked up at him expectantly when he pulled back this time, and you bit your lip a little when you realized you were down almost as bad as he was.  “I think I’m gonna like working here,” he announced with a wide smile.