#Offset Smut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pathologicalreid · 9 months ago

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gemini | S.R.

two emotionally wrought people collide at a wedding, and a sexual escapade ensues.

part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, use of the term "good girl" (i couldn't help myself), unprotected sex, reader on bc, alcohol, spoilers for 14x15 truth or dare, lowkey idiots in love, fucking against a wall?, fingering, heavy petting, r has an oral fixation, r is wearing a dress and makeup, explicit consent (hot), public sex, i think that's all word count: 3.42k a/n: this is a little self-indulgent and i don't care! based on literally just the first line of the song gemini by del water gap. probably not ever gonna get a part two. i've never done angsty smut (smangst?) before, so this was fun.

so, here's the setting, we met fucked up at a wedding

Swirling the drink you held in your hand, you watched your friends as they chatted. The pink liquid in the cup, concocted by Penelope Garcia, was far too sweet for your taste, but you needed the liquid courage to make it through the wedding.

It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for Krystall and Dave. It was that weddings oftentimes left a bitter taste in your mouth – one so bitter that not even Penelope’s drink could offset it.

In your periphery, you saw a blur of purple in the corner, looking up to see Spencer. His hand still bandaged from his most recent brush with death, he used his free one to grip a glass of water. Raising your eyebrows, you gave him your best attempt at a smile before you greeted him, “You look good, Dr. Reid.”

He was fully donned in his favorite color, and you tried to pretend that you didn’t notice that your dress matched the purple hue of his suit. “Thanks,” he said shortly, not quite meeting your eyes.

Noting the way he was looking past you, you demurely leaned your head down, glancing over your shoulder so that you could see what he was looking at, only to see JJ. She looked gorgeous in her red dress, laughing at something her husband said before her eyes caught something.

She was staring back at Spencer, and not for the first time, you found yourself wondering what happened in that pawn shop. Bringing your eyes back up to Reid, you watched the confused look in his eyes bloom as he peeled his eyes away from JJ.

Sick of it, you spoke up, “Alright, I had dibs on being the mopey one tonight. What’s wrong?” You had wanted to brush it off as long-lasting nerves from the hostage situation, but he was acting strange.

You knew you weren’t his best friend, that was a title that JJ had been the reigning champion of since the beginning of time. Yet, you still noticed the rigidity in Spencer’s shoulders as he displayed a clear discomfort with his surroundings. You tried to think of something to say to him. How could you ask him if he wanted to get out of here without it sounding like a sexual proposition?

“JJ told me she loved me,” he said, his voice so low you weren’t even sure you had heard him correctly.

Your head snapped up, “Oh.” Swallowing thickly, you tilted your head curiously, letting loose hair tumble to the side. “Do you love her?” Likely not the right conversation for the wedding of everyone’s favorite right-person-wrong-time couple, but you were desperate for a rope to pull yourself out of your wallowing.

He took a sip of his water before setting the empty glass on the bar counter, “I did.” The admission hit you like a ton of bricks, until her continued, “but now…”

Filling in the blanks, you shrugged, “She’s married. They have kids.” Spencer was always doing the right thing, so pushing his feelings aside for the sake of JJ’s family made the most sense.

Furrowing his brows, he pondered this for a moment before speaking, “It’s not just that. I have feelings for someone else.”

“Oh,” you repeated, and somehow the thought of him being in love with an unfamiliar figure hurt more than him being in love with your mutual friend.

The both of you let the conversation lag, watching as Penelope came back up to the bar and poured more drinks. After she accused you of being boring for not wanting another drink, everyone returned to the tables. “Have you dated anyone since him?”

You choked on your newly acquired water, cupping your hand underneath your jaw in an attempt to stop water from getting on your dress. “Uh, no. I’ve kind of sworn off dating ever since,” you replied, shaking your hand out and letting water droplets fall to the floor.

Sighing, you slouched in your seat, remembering that all you’d ever be was a jaded bride. Left by your fiancé on the day of your wedding, doomed to never love again. Until you met Spencer Reid.

“For everyone?” Spencer asked, and you cursed his natural curiosity.

His question caught you off guard. Despite yourself, you shook your head, “I have like… one person who, if they asked me, I’d say yes.” Your skin started to feel warm, and you weren’t sure if it was your proximity to him or Penelope’s drink coming back with a vengeance.

Spencer stepped a little closer to you, leaning casually on the counter as if he wasn’t affecting your ability to focus. “Who’s your person?” The question was innocent enough that it made your heart ache.

“It doesn’t matter, he’s into someone else,” you told him, reaching behind your neck to pull your hair up, haphazardly twisting it. You didn’t have a hair tie, so you let the locks fall once you felt some semblance of relief.

This statement seemingly bothered Spencer because he looked into his glass, “Did he tell you that?”

Nodding, you chewed on the inside of your lip. “Yeah,” maybe not in so many words, Spencer was rarely crass enough to say he was into someone, but you understood well enough.

The conversation lagged between the two of you once again, your own private thoughts were only interrupted when the music changed. It was a slow song, one for the couples of the night to dance to.

You took a chance, “Do you want to go explore the building with me? It’s getting stuffy in here,” you said, taking one final swig of your water before jumping up from your stool.

He looked back at JJ, who was there with Will, and then forward to the girl who was asking to take him away, “Yes.”

David Rossi had spared no expense for his second wedding to his third wife, and the manor that you found yourself meandering within felt never-ending. Something about following Spencer as he led the way and told you facts about the history of the building felt so normal, and you wondered if it would hurt when the night was over. Maybe this would just end as another memory to loathe about weddings.

Trailing him into another room, you stumbled into his back. Quickly, Spencer spun back and caught you before you could fall to the ground.

Steadying yourself, your heart thrummed at the way he was touching you, tightly holding your waist so that you wouldn’t trip. Once you were no longer wobbling, Spencer reached up and gingerly lifted the fallen spaghetti strap of your dress back over your shoulder. Before you had fully thought out your actions, you leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him.

It was hesitant and gentle, but once you registered that you were kissing him you soon realized that he was kissing you back. What started out as a small peck on the lips quickly morphed into full, open-mouthed kisses.

You thought Spencer might eat you alive, and for a moment, you thought you might let him.

Without separating your lips, he herded you over to the wall, pinning your hips to the wall as you felt heat grow between your legs.

Pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth, Spencer pulled away ever so slightly, your faces just inches apart. “Is this okay?” He asked you, his eyes flickering down to your lips like he was holding himself back from kissing you again.

There was fear. A fear that if you moved forward tonight, nothing would ever be the same, but you took a chance and nodded quickly, “Yes.”

Your answer acted as a release as Spencer dropped his head back down and the two of you reattached your lips. Despite your attempts to ignore it, you felt his hardened length pressing into you through several layers of clothes.

Twisting your head away, you gasped as Spencer took the opportunity to place his lips on your neck, gently suckling on the tender skin as you tried to catch your breath. “Are you sure about this?” You breathed, running your hands underneath his suit jacket, wanting nothing more than to push it off of him.

“Yes,” he answered, giving you the same consent that you had already given him, and it was enough for you to reach for his belt buckle. No matter how badly you wanted to see him entirely bare in front of you, this just wasn’t the place for it.

Gently, you slid your hand down his front, savoring the way his breath hitched against your neck as your fingertips precariously lifted the waistband of his boxers. He gently nipped at your earlobe as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock.

You let your head fall backward, allowing him better access to your neck as you moved your hand. Moving your hand up so that you could swipe your thumb over the tip.

You dragged your other hand down, pulling his boxers down so that you could get a good look at what you were working with, and biting your lip at the sight of it. Slowly, you started to pump his impressive length, noting how his breathing patterns changed with your movements.

Dragging a knuckle up the underside of him, he dropped his head to your shoulder as you collected his pre-cum on your index finger on your way up, bringing your hand up to your mouth and licking the droplet off, peering up at him.

“You’re so good at that, baby,” he told you, sighing as he reached up and placed his hand on the side of your neck, skimming his thumb over your jawline as his free hand started to make its way up your dress, pausing when he only met bare skin. “No underwear?” He questioned, furrowing his brow at you as you bit your lip, trying to refrain from pressing into his hand.

Whimpering almost indiscriminately, you shook your head, “Couldn’t, panty lines would show under the dress.”

Spencer hummed in recognition, moving his hand up to cup your sex so that you could feel your own wetness on his hand. A pathetic whine escaped your throat as your walls clenched with need, still stopping yourself from grinding on his hand. “What do you need?” He asked, a teasing lilt in his voice, “Come on, you can tell me.”

“You, please,” you answered, your voice dangerously bordering on pleading. “Your hands, anything,” you squeaked out, breathing heavily as you awaited his next move.

Gently, he slipped a finger inside your wet hole, causing you to release a satisfied sigh. “You’re so wet,” he whispered in your ear as you tilted your head back and pressed your lips to his.

As his hand picked up in pace, so did your breathing. With each movement of his hand, you struggled to keep your volume at a respectable level, small whimpers continued escaping you even as you bit down on the inside of your lip. “Spence,” you whined, moaning aloud as he slipped a second finger into you, “Oh, god.”

The silence of the room around you only exacerbated the wet sounds that were emanating from your sex, and if it didn’t feel so good, you might’ve been embarrassed. In fact, as you felt a familiar coil winding in your abdomen, you found that you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure.

Crying out, you nodded as Spencer continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you, “Fuck,” you said, caring less about your volume levels. Even less so when he responded by pressing the heel of his hand against your clit, the pressure proving to be enough to send you over the edge.

“It’s okay,” Spencer whispered in your ear, “Let it go for me, baby.” His words continued as you felt your walls spasming around his fingers, his ministrations had slowed, but he worked you through your orgasm before withdrawing his fingers and lifting them up to your mouth.

Accepting the invitation, you leaned forward and sucked the sweet juices off of his hand, slipping your tongue between his two fingers as you looked up at him. You half expected him to be watching you with lust-blown eyes, but he was watching you just as attentively as he had when you started this escapade.

He retrieved his fingers from your mouth with a satisfying pop and reached down to ruche the fabric of your dress up around your waist. “Wait,” he said suddenly, gripping the silky cloth, “I don’t have a condom.”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I don’t mind.” Still breathing heavy from your previous orgasm, you shook your head again, “I mean. I’m on birth control – and I’m good at it. I mean I keep up with it.” Now babbling, you hoped he’d say something. “I’m clean. I trust you.”

Nodding in understanding, he placed a hand on the side of your neck and looked at you intently. “I’m not going to do anything until you catch your breath,” he told you, taking up an authoritative tone.

Blinking rapidly, you evened out your breathing as he ran his hand up and down your torso, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking another deep breath as you looked up at him.

Spencer shook his head, “Don’t be sorry.” He leaned his head down, pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck as you finally pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured, leaning down to grip the backs of your thighs.

“It’s okay if you can’t lift me,” you rambled quickly, getting his attention as you aired your concern.

He raised his eyebrows expectantly, pressing his hips into yours and lifting your feet off of the ground. The leverage that he had, along with the support of the wall behind him, allowed him to get both of your feet off of the ground. You would’ve spent more time being impressed by this feat if you weren’t so distracted by his painfully hard cock that had now slipped between your folds.

Leaning down, you desperately kissed his lips, wanting him to give you those open-mouthed kisses that you had started out with. Instead, you cried out when, without warning, his full length slipped into you.

Placing gentle kisses on your collarbone, Spencer murmured, “Are you okay?” He whispered, seeming like he was using all of his self-control to just stay still.

You nodded, feeling his cock throbbing so deep in you that you were almost afraid you’d come from just that pressure alone. “Been a while,” you murmured, taking a deep, shaky breath.

He hummed in understanding, “I’ve got you, take your time.”

His words filled your stomach with butterflies, and it wasn’t just because he was fully sheathed in you. “Spence,” you whimpered, “Move.”

On your cue, Spencer gave a tentative thrust, permitting your resulting moan to mix with his grunt. “Fuck, baby,” he said, continuing to thrust in and out of your cunt, filling the room with the crude squelching of your actions. “I’m not going to last long,” he informed you.

Throwing your head back in ecstasy, you moaned helplessly when Spencer dropped one of your legs to the ground, hooking his arm underneath your other knee, providing a new, deeper angle. You swore as the sensations started to feel overwhelming.

The new angle gave him more control over his movements, enabling him to use his free hand to pull at your breast through the fabric of your dress. As you tugged gently at his hair, you tilted your head back, “Spence, I- shit,” you cursed, recognizing the tell-tale signs of your second orgasm approaching.

If it weren’t for his words of encouragement, you would’ve been embarrassed by coming too quickly, and if anything, the words only spurred you closer to the finish line. “Come for me,” he said, thrusting harder into you as he tried to reach the same point. “Let me know how good I make you feel,” he said, continuing his thrusts until his hips stuttered.

“Coming,” you whimpered, dropping your head forward onto his shoulder as you felt your walls tightening around his hard length. Crying out as he continued to pound into you, you buried your face into his neck and nipped at the skin to muffle your sounds.

Now he was solely working toward his own orgasm, having given you two of your own. “You’re such a good girl,” he panted.

Suckling gently at the skin on his neck – not hard enough to leave a mark, you littered kisses on his sensitive skin. “Come in me, baby,” you murmured, trying to spur him on.

Your success was apparent as his movements faltered and his cock started throbbing, feeling the pulses of his cum as it filled you, your eyes rolled back at the feeling while Spencer slowed to a halt, waiting for a beat before he pulled out of you entirely.

Shuddering at the emptiness you now felt, you leaned against the wall once both of your feet were on the ground. As your legs trembled, you watched as Spencer crouched to fish something out of his jacket, leaving you with your mixture of fluids running down your legs.

As he grabbed the handkerchief from his breast pocket, you gasped slightly as you realized his intentions. “Spence, you’ll ruin it,” you insisted.

“Would you rather go back out there with my cum dripping down your thighs?” He asked, knelt in front of you with his brows raised in mock innocence.

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “Jesus.”

He chuckled, using the handkerchief to wipe up the mess the two of you had made on your legs before carelessly tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Noting the way your legs were still shaking, he lifted your chin ever so slightly, “Are you alright?”

Nodding, you offered him a tired, but genuine smile. “I’m great,” you told him, wiping underneath your eyes where you were sure there was a mess of mascara.

Taking your hand in his, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, Spencer led to toward the French doors that led to the balcony, taking you out into the fresh air.

As you leaned up against the railing, Spencer shook out his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, doing his best to keep you comfortable. “Hey,” you whispered, “I really am fine. Are you? How’s your hand?” In all of the hormones, you had forgotten about his injury.

Spencer nodded, looking over the property that Rossi had rented. “I’m good, Y/N. I feel good.” You wished he’d call you baby again, but maybe that was too much to ask for. His eyebrows furrowed.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked him, recognizing the look from years of working together.

He hummed, reaching up and sweeping a strand of hair off of your forehead. “That guy? The one who told you he’s into someone else? I can confidently say he’s an idiot.”

Flushing, you smiled to yourself at the fact that Spencer was calling himself an idiot, especially when he was anything but. Shrugging, you waved him off anyway, “Nobody’s perfect, Spence.”

“No, I suppose not, but even so…” he told you, allowing his voice to trail off like he wasn’t totally sure what he wanted to say to you. “If he can’t see what’s right in front of him, then maybe you need to turn your attention elsewhere.”

Sighing, you leaned your chin in your hand, “Thanks, but I don’t know. Maybe there is better out there, and I’m just not worth it.” No, after tonight, you’d likely never get over him. It might’ve started as a workplace crush, but you felt in your heart that it was now something deeper.

Spencer shook his head, “Now, that’s where we disagree.”

“Spencer, I can’t-“ Your voice is cut off when you hear someone calling your name from inside the building, smoothing out the front of your dress one more time, you step back into the room, coming face to face with JJ.

She smiles in recognition of you, but the grin immediately fades from her face when Spencer walks out behind you, “Hey, we’ve been looking for you guys,” she said flatly. “They’re about to cut the cake.”

Nodding, you took another quick look at Spencer before following the blonde out of the room, leaving your secret in the room behind you.

part two

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ariestrxsh · 9 days ago

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shy!sub!chris x babysitter!reader

˚₊ · »-♡→ content warning: smut, mommy kink, age gap (Chris is 22 & reader is 28), praise, masturbation, handjob, hair pulling, innocence corruption

˚₊ · »-♡→ summary: chris runs into his old childhood babysitter, and their innocent reunion takes a turn when the two can't deny the sexual tension between them.

This fic was inspired/requested by this ask. 🤍

If the age gap or the fact that the reader used to babysit Chris bothers you, then don't read this fic ! The ones that get it, get it, and the ones that don't, dont.

Baby Sitter (part one)

"No way! Chris Sturniolo?" Your familiar voice broke Chris' attention away from his phone, his blue eyes first scanning over your red heels, your black tights, and then the grey dress suit you were wearing paired with a long, open black peacoat.

He was leaned up against the side of an old brick building with one hand in his hoodie pocket to keep it warm, waiting for the bus home. "Oh, my god! Hi!" He exclaimed, his face lighting up when he recognized you.

"You're so big!" You declared, pulling him into a hug and ruffling his messy, brown hair. The warmth of his embrace brought you some solace from the nearly freezing temperature of this brisk, winter afternoon.

Chris caught a hint of the floral perfume you'd been wearing for the past decade, and the memories of when you were both kids came flooding back to him.

"You must've been this tall the last time I saw you," you told him, holding your hand out and gesturing about three feet from the ground.

"Oh, come on. I haven't been that short since I was eight years old. You babysat me up until I was almost twelve," Chris chuckled, playfully rolling his eyes.

You glanced him over one more time. Chris had always been a cute kid, but now he was a handsome man. You scanned over his slightly muscular build, his sharp jawline, and the bit of stubble he had coming in on his face from not shaving the past few days.

"Can't believe that was ten years ago. You look good," you complimented him. "So do you," he replied, his voice textured with a hint of lust as his gaze danced over your breasts and your long legs.

"You taking the bus?" You asked him, motioning towards the bus schedule. "Yeah, but my bus won't be here for another half hour," he shrugged, looking around at the traffic building up. "Maybe longer," he faintly added.

"I could take you home," you warmly smiled at him, tilting your head to the side. "Really?" He wondered, surprised by your kind gesture.

"Of course. Still live in the same house? I think I still remember how to get there," you responded, crossing one lapel of your coat over the other, folding your arms, and raising your shoulders to your ears to fend off the cold.

"No, actually. I moved into my own apartment last year. It's probably pretty far out of the way if I'm being honest. I don't want to waste your time," Chris nervously chewed on his lip, staring down at his black converse.

"Don't be silly, Chris. I don't have anywhere to be," you reached out and gently squeezed his arm, reassuring him that your offer was genuine. "My car's over in that parking garage over there," you motioned towards the large structure across the street.

"Okay, sure. Thank you," Chris said, pulling his hood over his head as the chilly wind started to pick up. You stuffed your hands into your coat pockets, and the two of you started slowly meandering over in that direction, your heels click-clacking against the pavement, and Chris' sneakers pitter-pattering next to you.

"So, you're all grown up now. Got your own place, got your own job.." you smiled over at him. "Yeah, I do. I have my own car, too, but it's in the shop right now," he sighed.

"Is it gonna be expensive to fix?" You wondered aloud. "A little, but on the bright side, I'm saving money on gas walking and taking the bus to work," Chris shrugged, the corner of his lip turning up in a weak smile.

"What are you doing for work?" You asked, glancing both ways before crossing the street. "Landscaping, construction, some basic handy-man work," he answered you.

"Is that how you got these?" You flirtatiously squeezed his bicep. He scoffed and laughed, his heartbeat quickening as your touch lingered.

"What do you do for work?" He asked, flipping the question around on you and taking the attention off of himself. "See that little window right there? I work at that law firm," you told him, pointing up at the tall building a couple blocks away.

"No way! You're a lawyer?" He assumed, lifting his eyebrows. "No, just a paralegal," you responded, laughing. Chris didn't really understand the difference.

He thought about making a comment about you being dressed way too hot to be a lawyer, but he bit his tongue, worried that it might come out wrong.

"Hey, you're not in a rush to get home, are you?" You stopped, turning to him. "No. No hurry," Chris replied, shrugging his shoulders and secretly hoping to spend more time with you.

"There's a coffee shop about a block away. How about we go grab a drink and get out of the cold for a bit?" You suggested, the chill of the air biting at the tip of your nose. "That sounds nice," Chris nodded, following your lead.

"So, how's your mom doing?" You wondered, peering over at Chris. "She's doing well. She misses you. You were her favorite babysitter, you know. She'd always call you first when she needed someone to watch me," Chris admitted.

"Good. That means you didn't tell her I let you watch scary movies with me and stay up way past your bedtime," you joked. "Nope. Still haven't told her to this day," Chris responded, winking in your direction.

"Good boy," you said, ruffling his hair again. Blood rushed to his cheeks, and his face turned a bit red with embarrassment.

You didn't mean for that moment to create so much sexual tension between the two of you, but your eyes met for just a second, both of you conveying a look of desire. You both glanced away just as quickly, letting the moment pass.

You cleared your throat before speaking again. "So your mom. She still working at the hospital?" You wondered, rubbing your hands together to keep them warm before nestling them back into your big coat pockets. "Yeah, still working long hours," he replied.

You lead Chris down an alley tucked between two tall buildings where you were temporarily safe from the windchill. Chris ran his fingertips along the cold brick as he turned the corner, the rough surface leaving him with both a strange and satisfying sensation.

A comfortable silence lingered between you as you meandered down the path, not wanting to fill each other in too quickly on your lives to keep the visit from being cut short.

The sounds of the city moved around you, traffic bustling and people clamoring about. The city was like that, everyone always onto the next thing. It seemed like you and Chris were the only ones dragging out your steps, trying to pass the time instead of racing it.

You turned another corner, leading Chris back out into the strong winds as you pushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear in an attempt to keep it from blowing wildy in your face.

Straight ahead tucked between an antique shop and a record store was the coffeehouse you frequented. You and Chris, once again, glanced both ways before crossing the street.

Despite the frigid air, Chris' palms had grown sweaty from his nervous energy. He felt like a little kid again in the presence of his pretty babysitter, who he'd always had a raging crush on, hoping you thought he was cool, or at the very least, not uncool.

He subtly wiped the perspiration off on the front of his jeans before reaching for the door with a shaky hand, holding it for you, and nodding for you to go through it.

The two of you shuffled into the warm, cozy lobby of the café, so warm that the first thing you did was remove your coat and sling it over your arm, prompting Chris' eyes to drop to the bit of exposed cleavage that peeked out over your neckline.

The ambience was just right, smooth jazz playing softly in the background, warm overhead lighting, and the hiss of milk being steamed to perfection. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans and sweet flavors wafted through the welcoming atmosphere.

Chris got a peppermint mocha, and you ordered a cortado, which Chris insisted on paying for, and you didn't put up a fight.

He'd always been sweet like that, even when you two were just kids. He was always holding doors open for you and waiting to eat his dinner until you'd taken your place at the table.

He was always considerate and gentleman-like, a product of his personality and his mother's good morals.

The two of you found a place to sit near the back next to a big window, and while the two of you were reminiscing on old memories, the server brought the two of you your drinks.

You thanked him, but when Chris' eyes landed on your coffee, his smile fell. "Hey, want me to go bring this back? I think they brought you the wrong thing," Chris offered.

"No, this is what I ordered!" You assured him. He stared inquisitively at your measly 4 oz drink, wondering what the appeal was.

"It's really good, Chris. I promise," you responded, reading his expression. "I'd ask for a taste, but I'd finish it off in one sip," he joked. You rolled your eyes, but you laughed along.

"So, are you still with Kyle?" He wondered aloud, staring down at your hands that were cupping your drink, searching for a wedding band or engagement ring.

"No," you told him, your hands retreating and falling into your lap. "He wasted my time, really. We were together for nine years and in the midst of our three-year-long engagement, he cheated on me," you scoffed.

"I knew I never liked that guy," Chris muttered, clenching his jaw. "I know you didn't. You'd always try to sit between us on the couch and interrupt us right when we were about to kiss," you recalled, the corner of your lip morphing into a faint smile.

It was hard for you to deny the little crush Chris had on you when he was a young boy, but sitting in front of him now in this coffee shop, admiring the way his features had aged like fine wine, you wondered if the tables had turned.

Chris bit back a smirk as he recalled a few times that he had "woken up" from a nightmare, pulling your attention away with your shitty boyfriend at the time so that you'd have to come to his rescue and comfort him. Kyle had even accused him of faking before.

"Kid always has a bad dream every time we're about to do it," he'd snarked at you once, pulling you back onto his lap, which caused a verbal disagreement to break out between the two of you.

"Kyle! You asshole! He's eleven! He's not thinking like that," You had whisper-yelled in response, pushing him away and following Chris to his bedroom to lull him back to sleep.

Chris had overheard the conversation from down the hall, but even now, over ten years later, he couldn't admit to you that most of the time, he was faking his nightmares.

No one had had the talk with Chris at this point, but he had a vague idea of what it meant when Kyle would stay the night, and he felt an incredible amount of jealousy when he would.

"How about you, Chris? You dating anyone? I bet the girls can't stay away from you," You flattered him, putting your drink to your lips and taking a sip.

He blushed and shook his head after drinking from his own coffee. "I've actually never had a serious girlfriend. Can't seem to get past the talking stage with girls," Chris nervously said, avoiding eye contact.

"Oh, well, there's nothing wrong with that, Chris," you reassured him, pitifully running your thumb across the back of his hand. You meant for the gesture to be reassuring, but Chris found it condescending. He jerked his hand back.

"You think I'm a loser, don't you?" Chris huffed, peering out of the café window. "Chris. Look at me. Of course, I don't think that," you responded, studying his facial expressions.

"Of course, you do think that. I'm a twenty-two-year-old who's never.." Chris began to say, but he cut himself off, fearing he'd already said too much.

"Oh! You've never..?" You asked, your voice started to trail off. He didn't answer you, but his face turned a deep red.

"Chris, there's nothing wrong with that. I just assumed.. I just thought.. I'm just surprised. That's all," you managed to get out, foolishly stumbling over your words and wondering how someone you'd known for so long and who was so much younger than you was making you as nervous as you were.

"Why are you surprised?" He asked, your assumption taking him aback. "You're just so hot," you accidentally blurted out, astounding yourself with how forward your comment was.

"You think so?" He asked, his eyebrows flicking up in shock. He blushed a little harder, but his previously embarrassed expression morphed into something softer.

"I mean, you're conventionally attractive. You're a total gentleman. You just need a little confidence, and you'd be unstoppable," you stroked his ego, taking a sip of your coffee.

"You think I'm hot?" He wondered, still stuck on your compliment, his lips curling into a flattered smile. "Don't make me say it again," you chuckled, rolling your eyes.

Chris narrowed his gaze at you while he took a sip of his peppermint mocha. "What else do you think of me?" He inquired, locking eyes with you.

"I think any woman would be lucky to be your first," you replied, reaching out and stroking the back of his hand again. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he relished in the soothing feeling of your thumb brushing against his knuckles.

"Any woman? Even you?" He suggested, surprising himself with the brief moment of confidence he found himself swept up in. The silence that followed his question was heavy, and the tension between the two of you was thick.

You wet your lips, studying his handsome facial features, but before you could answer, one of the coffee shop employees floated over to your table. They offered to take your empty cortado glass out of the way to which you pulled back your hand, nodded, and thanked them.

"I should take you home," you declared, softly smiling in Chris' direction. "Okay," Chris affirmed, taking his peppermint mocha to-go.

The two of you left the coffeeshop, putting back on all your layers before setting back out into the winter weather.

You made your way out the door, the whistling wind whirring past you as you wandered back to your car. You and Chris walked silently through the city streets and through the cobblestone alleys between the buildings that towered over Boston.

Your mind churned, worrying that you'd made the reunion awkward and quietly kicking yourself for your word choice in the coffeehouse.

"Here we are," you announced once the two you had reached the parking garage. You reached into your purse, retrieved your keys, and unlocked your car.

Chris turned to you with wide eyes, and his jaw dropped when he realized the black Mercedes was yours.

"Damn. When did you get rich?" He questioned you, opening the passenger side door and running his fingers along the dark red interior.

"I wouldn't say I'm rich," you scoffed, humbly shrugging before opening the driver's side door.

"I should've had you pay for my coffee," the blue-eyed boy joked, admiring the sleek look of your car and setting his drink in your cup holder. "Next time I will," you smiled at him as your engine roared to life.

You turned on your heater, and each of you shed a layer as the car started to warm up. "Alright, Chris. What's the address to your apartment complex?"

He read it off to you while you put it in your GPS. You carefully backed out of your parking spot and navigated your way onto the main road towards his place.

"So, I mean, it's been eleven years. What else has been going on in your life besides dumping Kyle and getting rich?" Chris playfully inquired.

"A lot, actually. After high school, I took a year off. Then when I went back to school and got my bachelor's degree in law. I worked at a few places as a secretary before finally finding this job about three years ago shortly after Kyle and I broke it off, and I've been making good money ever since," you told him.

"I even bought my first house last year by myself," you added, trying not to sound too cocky but unable to hide how proud you were.

"That's amazing. I love a strong, independent woman," Chris smirked, sipping on his coffee, his gaze lingering on you as you focused on the road ahead.

"How about you, Chris? What have you been up to since I last saw you?" You returned the question.

You spent the rest of the car ride catching up with Chris, getting to know him all over again. It was surprising and comforting how many things about him hadn't changed - his sweet and shy demeanor, his mannerisms, and his laugh.

The parts of him that did change, you liked - his matured features and his deep, sexy voice.

While the two of you were chatting and approaching an intersection, someone ran a red light, causing you to slam down on the brake pedal. Chris spilled his drink, sending coffee dripping down the front of his white t-shirt.

"Shit," he muttered. "Are you okay?" You asked, your heart racing while you tried to catch your breath. You pulled off onto the shoulder of the road to collect yourself.

"I'm fine. I just feel like an idiot for spilling in your car," Chris sighed, unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling his shirt off over his head.

"It's not your fault, Chris. It doesn't.. it doesn't even look like you got it anywhere besides.." You managed to get out as you motioned towards his shirt that was no longer on his body.

Your eyes dropped to his chest, his arms, and to his stomach. He caught you staring and smirked in your direction. You immediately pulled your eyes off him and placed them back onto the road in front of you, clearing your throat.

"Sorry about that," you said, half-apologizing for making him spill and half-apologizing for ogling him like a creep. "Don't be sorry," he paused. "About anything."

His eyes lingered on you, biting down on his bottom lip. He wondered if you wanted him as badly as he wanted you.

You turned down a few unfamiliar streets, following the GPS directions into the complex where Chris lived.

"Take this road all the way down, and you can park at any of those unmarked spaces on the left," he instructed you. You pulled into a spot and threw the gear shifter into park.

"Well, here we are!" You exclaimed, glancing over at Chris, your eyes dancing over his stature one more time. "Thank you so much for the ride. It really means a lot. So much better than taking the bus," Chris remarked, smiling at you.

"Hey, if you want, I can wash your shirt for you. I'm pretty good at getting stains out," you suggested, extending your hand and offering to take his shirt.

"I'd appreciate that. Thank you," Chris responded, handing it off to you and getting ready to get out of the car.

"Hey, wait! Before you go, let's exchange numbers. You know, that way I can return this once it's washed," you proposed. Chris agreed, trying not to sound too eager and reaching for his phone that was tucked into his pocket.

You swapped contact information with him, told him to call anytime, and ruffled his hair again.

"Hey. Do you wanna come inside? I can give you a tour," Chris offered, not wanting to say goodbye to you just yet.

"Sure," you nodded, cutting the engine and following Chris up the stairs to his place.

You couldn't keep your eyes off the muscles in his back. He placed his key into the lock, turning it until he heard a faint click. He pushed open the door and motioned for you to enter first.

It was a typical twenty-something-year-old man's apartment - clothes strewn on the floor, a few dishes stacked in the sink, and a couch in the living room pointed at a TV.

He had stacks of video games, naughty magazines, and a few empty soda cans scattered on his coffee table. His place was a little unorganized, but it wasn't filthy.

"Sorry about the mess," Chris apologized, scurrying over to the dirty magazines and stuffing them under his sofa cushion when he thought you weren't paying attention.

"Uh, I'll show you my room," he mumbled, leading the way to his bedroom door. His sheets were thrown lazily onto his twin-sized bed, and he didn't have much else in his room besides a wooden nightstand.

"If you need to use the bathroom, it's right there," Chris motioned towards the door across the hall. You followed him back out towards the front door.

"And the kitchen," he motioned towards the small room with the fridge in it. "I know it's not much," Chris shrugged.

"But it's your first place by yourself, and that's a big deal. I'm really proud of you!" You warmly smiled, pulling him into another hug.

Your fingerstips glided across his shirtless back, and blood immediately rushed to his dick.

"Thanks! It's relatively cheap, too," Chris remarked, pulling away and making over towards the couch in the living room.

He plopped down onto the furniture and pulled a throw pillow onto his lap, hoping he was being discrete. He wasn't.

You took a seat on his couch beside him, shifting uncomfortably about on his lumpy cushion. You decided to mess with him a bit.

"C'mon, don't look at those," he nervously whined as you reached under the sofa cushion, retrieving a few dirty magazines. Your lips curled into a devious smile as you flipped through one.

"You might be a virgin, but you're not that innocent, are you?" You cooed.

He buried his face in his hands while you sifted through the images of naked girls, half-expecting you to start making fun of him or tell him how disgusting he was for getting off to such content.

When you didn't, he peeked back up at you. You looked more intrigued than anything. You crossed your legs and squeezed them together as you imagined him rubbing one out while his dreamy, blue eyes struggled to focus on the page.

"Why don't you show me what you do with them?" You cooed. "Wh-what do you mean?" He timidly asked.

"Don't play dumb, pretty boy," you leaned in, whispering into his ear, gently planting a kiss on the side of his neck. "You know exactly what I mean. Show me."

His eyes fluttered closed, and his jaw fell open as he processed your request. "Uh huh," he nodded, his heart beating in his ears as his shaky, sweaty hand reached for the button on his pants.

"Say, yes, mommy," you sensually whispered against his flesh that was radiating heat. "Yes, mommy," he articulated, putting a lustful emphasis on the final word.

With your tongue licking a stripe up his neck, you heard the soft zip of his jeans being undone. You felt him start pumping away his length. You suckled gently on his skin.

"Ahh," a faint gasp snuck past his lips, his breath shallowing. You pulled away to catch a glimpse of what was between his legs.

"Wow," you purred, zeroing in on his swollen, mushroom-shaped head. Another pretty moan unfurled from his pink, parted lips while he caressed his sensitive tip.

"Look at that," you gasped, admiring the way precum started drooling from his slit while he played with it. "Good boy," you quietly praised him while his slender fingers were wrapped around his length, stroking it up and down at a quickening pace.

"I just know you fuck hard," you sinfully purred into his ear, his grip around his cock growing tighter. He threw his head back, giving you better access as you went back to suckling on his neck.

"Mommy, I need you," Chris relayed in a strangled moan, desperation seeping into his tone. "What do you need, Chris? Use your words, pretty boy," you cooed. A smirk played into the corner of his mouth as he listened to your praise.

"Show me what it's like to be touched by a woman," he quietly requested. "Where do you want me to touch you, baby? Right here?" You teased, gently tapping his tip with the end of your pointer finger.

"Yes, mommy. Right there," he eagerly affirmed. You gently caressed the back of the head, tracing his veins with your fingertips. You tightened your grip, replacing his own hand with yours.

He let go, letting you take the reigns as a needy whine drifted to your ears. "Yes, mommy," he replied.

You tilted his chin to face you, and you leaned in, locking your lips with his, his faint whimpers vibrating against your mouth.

He couldn't believe he was kissing you, his childhood babysitter, the woman he'd been fantasizing about for over a decade. He still wasn't convinced that this wasn't some sort of vivid dream or intense reverie.

You had one hand tangled in his hair and the other, gripping his length and pumping it at a steady pace. His hard cock involuntarily throbbed in your grasp.

"Look at me, baby," you whispered after you pulled away from the kiss, but only by a few inches. "Is it everything you wanted it to be, pretty boy?" You wondered, holding his gaze with your nose gently brushing against his while you tugged on his messy locks.

"Yes, mommy," he answered, his features and his voice saturated in lust. You looked into his pretty blue eyes while you stroked him faster and faster, feeling his cock twitch at the sensation.

He was so eager to be played with by you that he could barely contain himself.

You watched the muscles in his face tighten, his eyebrows knitting together and his eyes squeezing shut. He shuddered under your touch.

He clutched the couch cushion beneath him with both hands, curling his fingers and his toes as you brought him to climax.

A slew of guttural moans filled the room as he finished, his load squirting from his tip and painting his chest and his stomach, a bit of cum pooling into his belly button.

The warm, white substance dripped down onto your hand as you brought your movements to a standstill.

You released his soft, brown hair from your tight grasp, and he sank into the soft sofa. A satisfied smile crossed his face as he tried to regulate his breathing. He had never felt that much pleasure before.

Embarrassment flooded his system when he realized it took all of about four minutes for him to cum.

"I'm sorry I finished so fast," he mumbled breathlessly as he giggled and hid his face in his hands, reverting back to his shy nature.

"Don't be sorry, baby. About anything. You were such a good boy for me. Next time I'll show you how to last longer."

˚₊ · »-♡→ part two here

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sometimesanalice · 4 months ago

Text

Call My Bluff

Summary: Rooster and Hangman have always attracted attention wherever they go. You aren't jealous, it’s just getting hard to ignore. It’s a good thing they're more than happy to remind you just who you belong with.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader x Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

Length: 5.8k

Warnings: smut and a dash of angst (mdni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the Up the Ante universe, however it can be read on it's own!)

You knew you were staring- casually observing, one could argue- but it was hard to pull your gaze away from Jake at the bar.

He had gone to get another round of drinks for everyone more than ten minutes ago. It was a busy night at the Hard Deck, but not that busy. It really shouldn’t have surprised you though to realize why he was held up, especially with the way his tight white t-shirt was offsetting his end of summer tan. He’s always been too damn charming for his own good, especially when it was paired with that deep rooted sense of southern hospitality.

It wasn’t a rare occurrence to see Hangman getting hit on by another woman. However, it was the second time that night he’d been approached by the same woman with all too interested eyes and an enticing smile.

“If I didn’t know better,” Rooster says, sliding up to you and squeezing your hip, “I’d say you’d look like you were jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” It comes out a bit too short to be believable.

He just gives you a knowing look, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “Well, you know I think you look gorgeous in pretty much everything. Including that particular shade of green.”

You let out an annoyed huff and take distracted sip of the remnants of your drink, which was now mostly melted ice cubes with an essence of gin.

Bradley just chuckles lightly and takes a quick glance around the room before pressing a quick kiss to the side of your head.

“I’m sure I could think of a couple ways to distract you," he offers.

You’ve been enjoying this something with them over the last few months. The three of you fell into everything so easily, but it wasn’t something you’d put a label on yet. You’ve always been the type of woman who likes having all the answers, but with them- with this- for the first time in your life you were ok with not having them.

There were electrifying nights the three of you spent together. And there were peaceful nights you spent home alone. There were times it was just you and Rooster and other times when it was just Hangman and you. There was time spent in beds and out of them. There were sunny days spent on the beach. There were hours spent taking road trips and exploring your new state. There were nice dinners out and quiet nights in. There were reservations made for two and there were tickets bought for three.

It was a new dynamic for you, and something you’d never could have expected. And you’ve been happy.

Really, really happy.

But over the last couple of weeks, it’s been hard ignoring the voice in the back of your head that has been filling your brain with all the what-ifs.

What if this isn’t working for them the way it was working for you.

What if this causal arrangement you have with them isn’t enough.

Or worse, what if you’re being selfish with them.

As you watch Hangman with that smooth smile on his face- but without a trace of those dimples you know so well- as he talks to the pretty girl near his elbow, you can’t help but wonder if this something – with him, with them- comes with an expiration date.

The room feels too small with the crowd of people- with their loud chatter and booming bursts of laughter- and all the too big thoughts swirling around in your head. Everything feels like too much, from the rings of ceramic mugs on the ceiling to the string lights and model planes around the bar to the patches covered walls.

“I’ll be right back,” you murmur, stepping out of Bradley’s grasp.

He hums, letting you know he’d heard you, giving you your space before drifting over to the pool table where the rest of the Daggers are gathered around.

And then you walk straight out the front door and leave.

You’ve been home for less than an hour when you hear a set of car doors shut with a heavy thud outside of your house. And there’s no question in your mind about who it could be.

The two quick, sharp raps on your front door only a few moments later confirm what you already knew.

You’d turned your phone off the moment you’d gotten in your car, wanting some time to yourself, not in any kind of mood now to be around other people. The only thing you could think of had been getting home so that you could simmer in peace. You had just wanted to get your head back on right without feeling like the walls were pressing in on you.

You open the door to see Rooster standing there looking pissed. His big arms crossed over his chest, jaw tight, and lips pressed firmly together in a flat line. Jake is just a step behind him, leaning against the porch post with his poker face already in place, a pretty picture of nonchalance.

“We tried calling,” Bradley rasps, the words clipped and short. You can tell he’s trying to keep his temper in check, but there was no missing the storm cloud behind his eyes.

You blink at him and drum your nails on the side of the door, giving him a flippant shrug. And Jake lets out a low disapproving whistle that grates on your already ragged nerves.

Rooster lifts an eyebrow at you like really. He’s always been the more hot headed one of the two of them. You know this cold shoulder act of yours is pushing his buttons, and you’re surprised he hasn’t called you out on it yet.

Not that you’d probably answer him anyways.

The last thing you want to do is talk.

It was why you left in the first place.

You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t want to think. And you really didn’t want to deal with your feelings.

Sex was easy. Sex was fun. Sex wasn’t complicated.

Everything else is exactly what you’d been trying to get away from, and instead all you’d done was have it delivered directly to your doorstep.

“I don’t remember inviting either one of you over,” you state, coolly, doing your best to feign indifference.

Rooster’s mouth drops opens, but Hangman is quicker on the draw. “And yet, here we are,” he says, stating the obvious, then mirroring the same brazen shrug you’d given the glowering man in front of you. “Guess the question is, are you going to let us in?”

You know without a doubt that if you said no they’d respect your decision and walk themselves right back to Jake’s truck and out of your drive away. You could have your space to simmer, just like you’d wanted.

What you’d thought you wanted.

…

Or.

Or maybe you just needed to remind yourself what exactly this is. Since there’s not much room to think when you’re too busy coming.

You drag your gaze from Bradley’s smoldering whiskey brown eyes to Jake’s all too observant sea green ones, before spinning away from them to saunter down the hallway towards your bedroom.

Knowing you still have the full weight of their twin stares on you, you reach for the hem of the oversized shirt from your college days that you’d thrown on the second you’d arrive home and tug it up and off, dropping it on the floor right before you turn the corner and out of their view.

There are a few noises you’re able to pick out in the too quiet of your house over your thundering heartbeat as you flick on the switch to the lamp in the corner of your room. The click of the front door being shut and the deadbolt turned into place. The sound of their sturdy soled shoes being toed off at the entry. The low baritone of Hangman’s murmured drawl, although the words that are spoken are too soft for you to make out.

And then the one you’d been anticipating the most, their weighty footsteps coming down the hallway to your bedroom. They’ve always teased you about it, with all of the soft pinks and creamy neutrals, and how it looks too sweet, too pure for a woman who enjoys taking two cocks as much as you do. But you’d seen the gleam in their eyes and the gears turning in their heads when they’d help you set up your pretty white wrought iron bedframe; it was the one thing they’d never commented on, especially since you were more than happy letting them tie you up to it.

You’ve just shimmied out of your panties- still bent at the waist- when you hear Bradley groan behind you. You linger there a moment longer than you need to, making sure he gets a good look at you like this. From reflection in the mirror that’s hung on your wall, you can see that the irritation is still rolling off of him in waves, but so is the heat of his want as he watches you stand back up with greedy, appreciative eyes.

Turning back towards him you let him take his fill of your naked body, one hip temptingly tipped to the side, daring him to be the one first to make a move.

Rooster slowly drags his heated gaze over you before he pulls his t-shirt over his head in that one-handed way that men do before pitching it off to the side. His broad chest is already starting to turn your favorite shade of flushed pink.

“How can a girl as pretty as you be so goddamn frustrating?” he mutters as he flicks open the button of his tight jeans. Only unzipping them enough to release some of the pressure off his visibly hard cock in a way that shows you just how turned on he is.

You feel high off of your own self-satisfaction as it twists and swirls in your chest.

“I think she just likes keeping us on our toes,” Hangman drawls, entering the room. A slight look of amusement coasts over his handsome face as he looks from you to Rooster. Clearly content to wait for the two of you to work whatever’s going on out of your systems.

You skim your fingers up your body and cup your breast in your hand. “What? You don’t think you can keep up, Rooster?” you challenge. He tips his head back up towards the ceiling and forces out a breath through pursed lips. And you’re tempted to see just how far you can push him.

“Oh, darlin’,” Jake chuckles, shaking his head, “You’re determined to trouble tonight, aren’t you?”

“And if I am?” you taunt, rolling your nipple between your fingers. Two sets of eyes hone in on the motion, but no one makes a move. “But if you both are just going to stand there, I’ve got a vibrator that works just as well- if not better.”

You’re trying to goad them. You know it and they know it.

Rooster struts up to you, grabbing a handful of your ass and hauls you against him. He’s thick and firm against your stomach. “If you’re going to act like a brat, then I’m going to treat you like a brat, baby,” he murmurs into the hinge of your jaw, “Now, get on the bed.” He punctuates the order with a swift, firm flat-handed slap.

And for the first time since you’d left the bar, you grin. Feeling entirely too pleased with yourself, even with the lingering sting of his handiwork.

This. This is what you want.

You want demanding fingers and the scrape of teeth on your skin. You want messy mouths and generous tongues. You want fast and hard and filthy and rough. You want to hear their heavy breaths and moans and curses. You want to give and to take, only for them to reward you with more.

You want as much of them as you can have, for as long as you can have them.

Bradley basically herds you to the bed while Jake watches on with a smirk, not that you needed much convincing anyways. The second you’re stretched across it, Bradley is on top of you wedging himself and those wide shoulders of his between your thighs.

There’s no build up, no gentle lead in. Rooster’s mouth is set on ruination.

He’s had you enough times that he knows exactly how to flick and circle and lave over you in a way that will end with white noise in your ears and starbursts behind your eyelids. His tongue is unrelenting on your clit, showing you no mercy as you start to quake under his touch.

It’s dizzying how fast he’s gotten you so spun up. Your breaths are coming out ragged and uneven as your fingers dig into the fabric of your gauzy duvet. And every time you whimper, he rewards you with a groan that only ripples up and throughout your keyed up body.

You’re right there, so so close to unraveling.

And then he pulls his mouth off of you, “Why’d you leave?”

A shocked gasp escapes you. At the timing of the question and the way he bites the fleshy part at the crease of your thigh.

“Bradley.” You keen as he sucks the very same spot, like he wants to mark you as his own.

“C’mon now, Bradshaw,” Jake tuts, from where he’s leaning against the door jamb, “Our girl was so close.” His ankles casually cross over each other, looking right at home as he watches you get eaten out by another man.

Rooster scoffs. “She can come as much as she wants, after she answers the damn question.” He brings the hand that had been gripping your hip over the center of you. “How about this,” he says, sinking a single thick finger into you, “Consider this a show of good faith.”

And then he has the audacity to send you a smirk.

“Fuck you, Rooster,” you huff, tilting into his touch. Bradley just hums and rolls his eyes, because he knows you well enough to tell when you actually mean it and when you don’t.

“You could be,” he reminds you. Then crooks his finger just enough to show you how devastatingly good it could be if he wasn’t set on edging an answer out of you.

You roll your hips trying to take more. To get him to give more. Anything to get you to that heady place again, where the only thing keeping you grounded in the moment is their bodies against yours.

“That’s it, sweetheart, keep riding his fingers.” Hangman’s hot gaze roams all over you as he crosses the room to sit down on the bed next to you. He reaches out and runs a big hand down your sternum, you arch into it offering more of yourself up to his touch. You know he’s feeling every jump of the muscles in your stomach under his heavy hand as he rests it in the soft space under your bellybutton.

You suck in a breath when Bradley teases you with a second finger. He only allows you one heartbeat of hope before he denies you that more, more, more you’re desperate for.

But he wasn’t the only one in the room capable of giving you exactly what you wanted.

“Jake, come on, fuck me.” You look up at him from under your lashes, hoping he’ll be the one to cave first.

“You’re a regular poet laurate, aren’t you,” Jake states, shaking his head at you.

You shoot him a glare. “I’ll write you a haiku later, just make me come.”

You feel a puff of air over your cunt from Rooster’s amused chuckle. It causes you to clench around his finger, but it’s not enough to get you there.

You try to reach for Hangman’s cock, still confined in the snug jeans he was wearing. He doesn’t even give you the chance to undo the top button before he catches your hand in his. “Nuh-uh, greedy girl, none of that.” Hangman presses the palm of your hand over his length, showing exactly what you’re being denied. “Not sure you’ve earned this, not after your disappearing act.”

“Not you too,” you pant. Weren’t sure if it was the weight on your chest or the sheer want of them that was making it hard for you to get a proper breath.

“Yes, me too. I don’t think you realize just how much you worried the old man,” Jake drawls, “You know that can’t be good for his heart.”

The old man between your trembling thighs takes the opportunity to rub his mustache over your needy clit, the friction of it almost makes you jump out of your too tight skin. And for an all too brief moment your mind blanks as need ricochets throughout your body, the only thing you can think of is how desperate you are to come.

Jake collects your other wrist in his warm hand and brings them up above your head. He leans over you, with your faces only a few inches apart you can smell the peppermint of his favorite mints on his breath.

“Leave them up there for me,” he murmurs. It’s a command that’s dressed up like a request.

He pauses a moment and searches your eyes, asking you a silent question with the resolved dip of his chin. You answer by curling your fingers into the edge of your mattress, it’s your first concession of the evening. The only one you’re planning on making.

Jake gives them a quick squeeze before he lets go, “Good girl.” His southern accent is smoother and richer than honey against your ear, it makes your toes curl in response.

“Oh, now you want to behave,” Bradley grumbles into your inner thigh, his slightly chapped lips scraping against your oversensitive skin. “Don’t forget, I’m still waiting for an answer, baby.”

His fingertip on your clit isn’t teasing anymore, now it feels like a taunt.

“Next question.” You dig your heel into his shoulder blade, urging him for more, but he doesn’t budge an inch.

Neither one of you are ready to fold.

You can feel the sweat starting to collect behind your knees where they’re resting over the overheated skin of Bradley’s shoulders as he alternates between slow, shallow thrusts and a featherlight touch of his calloused fingertip against your clit. Every now and then- if he’s feeling generous- he’ll treat you to his tongue, dipping out to taste and tease you.

Rooster takes his time in that thorough way of his to get your legs quivering and quaking. He keeps you teetering there, perfectly and precisely balanced on the edge. Not enough to get you off, but just enough to keep a steady flow of wetness dripping out of you. You don’t need to see his hand to know you’re making a mess out of him. Out of yourself. And probably out of your duvet.

Your body feels like a house of cards, just one breath away from toppling over. gust

“Jesus,” Jake says, his voice husky and rough, “I won’t ever get tired of seeing you like this.” His eyes feasting on your body that’s displayed just for their hungry gaze.

But he might, that voice in your head taunts you. They might.

You press your forehead into his denim covered thigh, it’s all too much and not enough all at once.

This wasn’t what you’d imagined when you’d invited them inside. You’d envisioned hand mussed hair and skin-on-skin and their flushed, satisfied faces. And so far, you were still the only one naked.

“You’re not… This isn’t…” Your fingers flex as your arms strain with the effort to keep them where they are raised above your head. “Why are you still dressed?” you hotly demand, not ready to forfeit this one-sided fight.

“I’m just here for the free show.” Hangman circles his finger lazily around your bellybutton. “You’ve been so determined to be so tight-lipped all night, but that pretty pussy of yours is sure making a lot of noise for a woman who hasn’t even been properly fucked yet.”

You’re hit with the realization that he’s giving you a taste of what you’d been dishing out since the moment they’d arrived, always one to give as good as he gets. It was just as hot as it was infuriating. Because that’s the thing about knowing how to push someone’s buttons was that they knew exactly how to push yours in return.

“You better watch your mout-ah.” You might have sounded almost convincing if Rooster hadn’t pumped three thick fingers into you suddenly, stretching and spreading you around them. You gasp and arch off the bed at the sensation. It’s the most he’s given you all night.

Jake tsks, flashing you his dimples. “But I’m having fun watching his mouth instead,” he says, nodding his head towards Bradley. “Speaking of, you got a little something on your chin there, Bradshaw.”

“That’s because arguing gets her wet.”

You can’t even deny it because the evidence is right there for them both to hear in the slick sound of him thrusting his fingers back into you. You press your head into the bed and try to arch your hips, but Jake’s firm hand pushes them back down, making you whine.

“Rooster, please, I just want to come.” And if it sounds like begging, it’s because you are now.

“And you know what I want, so it seems we’re at a stalemate.” You try to hitch your right leg open further, but Bradley hooks his arm around your thigh and pulls it back in, keeping you in place. “Baby, I’ve got all the time in the world. I’m a patient man. For as much fun as I’m having here trying to get an answer out of you, I’d much rather be coaxing orgasms from you instead.”

The frustration swells and crests inside of you. You’re tired of being toyed with when all you’d wanted was to not have to think for a while.

“Bradley, you can’t seriously expect me to want to have a damn heart-to-heart when your fingers are literally inside of me,” you fume.

“Ok, then.” He pins you with a pointed look and withdraws them, finally calling your bluff. “Can you please tell us what the hell is going on now?”

Jake tips your chin up to look at him, the congeniality replaced on his face with seriousness. “As much as I try to avoid agreeing with him, I think you owe us an explanation for why you left without saying a single word to either one of us, darlin’.”

“I didn’t realize I answered to you,” you say, haughtily. Not proud of yourself for getting short with them when they don’t deserve the heat of your irritation.

His eyebrows pull together in confusion. “Hey now, you know it’s not like that.”

“What’s it like then, Jake? It’s not like you’re-” you cut yourself off, pressing your lips tightly together.

Of course he doesn’t let it slide. “We’re not what?”

Him and Rooster exchange a look over the top of you when you don’t elaborate further, some unspoken understanding passing between them. The mood between the three of you shifting immediately.

Hangman tugs you up just enough for him to maneuver himself behind you and cradles you back against his chest, his arms winding themselves around your waist. As Bradley rests his chin on top of your thigh, his thumb making soothing circles on the swell of your hip, “We’re not what, baby?” And you’re not sure you’ve ever heard his raspy voice so soft before.

The silence stretches as you war with yourself. They know you well enough to know you need a moment. You’d made a career for yourself knowing the right words- the strategic kind- but when it came to communicating your feelings, you’d always found it so much harder to string them together.

This is the exact conversation you’d been trying so hard to run from, but you didn’t want to play games with them anymore.

Sharing your emotions makes you feel a thousand times more vulnerable than being naked in front of them ever has. With them you feel sexy and powerful and wanted, especially when you’re pressed between them like you are now. It’s a different kind of intimacy entirely letting them see the confusing mess of what’s going on inside your mind.

“Does this have anything to do with Rooster teasing you about being jealous earlier tonight?” Hangman asks, lifting an eyebrow. “Because you should know by now that I only have eyes for one girl.”

And there it is- bullseye.

Your gaze slides over to Bradley, “You told him about that?” He shrugs a broad shoulder, which jostles the thigh that’s still draped over it.

“He was concerned when we realized you weren’t at the Hard Deck anymore, we both were.” Jake cups your cheek and turns your face back to him, encouraging you to rest your head on his shoulder. “I asked him to fill me in on what I’d missed, because I thought we were having a good night up until I came back from the bar to learn you weren’t anywhere to be found and not answering your phone.”

The wave of guilt that washes over you makes your stomach churn uncomfortably. You’d been so inside your own head that you hadn’t taken even a moment to think about how they’d feel about your impulsive retreat. At the very least, you should have sent a text before turning off your phone.

You chew on your lower lip for a moment, before speaking, your voice quiet and tentative, “You can’t be jealous when you don’t have any real claim to someone.”

It’s not like you can be frustrated at anyone other than yourself. You were the one who wanted to try and keep things discreet. Casual. Because of your job and theirs. People talked enough on their own without you wanting to give them any more fuel to add to the smoking embers.

The rumors of your favorite aviators’ hook up had followed them for years since that first time it happened in Florida, just not many people knew that it had been you from the very start. You’d all kept in touch, but infrequent nights spent tangled in sheets before returning back to your real life was different than all of you being stationed together for the foreseeable future.

The ambiguity of what you all were to each other had chafed at you tonight in a way it never has before. It wasn’t something that you’d all talked about together before. After seeing the interest on the other woman’s face, you couldn’t deny that her and Jake had looked good together. But what you’d been most struck by was just how content and at ease he looked leaning there with an elbow at the bar.

It wasn’t a secret those closest to you all there was something going on between the three of you. After all, Bradley was affectionate and Jake was objectively the least subtle man on the planet. It wasn’t something you were hiding; it just wasn’t something you were actively trying to broadcast to all of NAS North Island.

But for the most part, they’d been following your lead since they knew you liked to keep your cards close to your chest. And while you liked to consider yourself an enigma, they were both looking at you right now like you were a book that only they were fluent in reading.

“‘Real claim’,” Jake repeats back to you, slowly. Like he’s not believing what he’s hearing. “Oh darlin’, where’d you get that idea?”

“Is that what this is all about?” Rooster’s eyes are intense as he looks at you. “Just because we’ve been keeping things casual doesn’t mean this thing between all of us isn’t the real deal. I’m not seeing or sleeping with anyone else. And I don’t want to.”

“I’m not either,” Hangman adds, running his hands along your sides. “I’ve got my hands more than full with you and I like it that way.”

You knew that they weren’t and they knew you weren’t too. Sex has always been the easier thing to talk about. That particular discussion had ended with the mix of their cum dripping out of you and too many orgasms to count.

But what happened if having fun turned into wanting more. You didn’t know how long they’d be fine with this dynamic, with splitting time and attention.

You look from one to the other. From green to brown. “And you’re both truly fine with sharing? I need you to be really honest with me.”

Bradley tilts his head at you, and asks, “You don’t think we’ve talked about this before?”

A surprised laugh almost slips out of you at the mental image of them hashing out their feelings during the commercials between some game on TV, but he’s looking at you so thoughtfully that you know he’s being entirely serious. The fact that this was something they’d already discussed between themselves on their own was news to you, especially considering you felt like you could barely get the words out yourself.

“I had no idea,” you admit, not sure whether to feel sheepish or not.

Jake tangles the fingers of your right hands together. “The way I see it is that even when you’re not with me, I know you’re with someone I know and trust, who cares about you just as much as I do. Someone who’s going to look out for you the same way that I would.”

You almost expect him to tack on a joke at Rooster’s expense at the end, a bit of banter or something to liven the mood, but he doesn’t. And the weight of his words sinks into you.

“And when we’re together? When it’s the three of us?” You reach out with your other hand to run your thumb along Bradley’s jaw, needing to touch him too.

“You know us pilots, we’re a competitive bunch. But we also work as well on our own as we do as a team.” Bradley explains, running his hands along the outside of your legs. “And what we do here together with you, it just feels like an extension of how we are up there.” Jake squeezes your hand in agreement.

“But how is this going to work? It’s already complicated enough when there are only two people in the equation.”

“You’re the one calling the shots here. You’re in charge and always have been ever since that first time in Pensacola,” Rooster reminds you. “We’re both here because we don’t want anyone else. This doesn’t need to be complicated. Whether you’re with him or with me or we’re all together. It’s already working just fine when you aren’t going ghost on us and ditching us without saying a word.”

You know you’re going to have to make it up to him. For as confident and sure of himself as Bradley Bradshaw is, you know the spots where he’s tender and tonight you were careless with them. You’re just grateful he’s going to give you the chance to make things right by him.

“We’re good. This is good,” Jake promises, leaning his forehead against your temple.

You feel like your heart might burst from the sheer affection you have for the two of them.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” you say, apologetically.

Hangman’s lips skim your cheek. “It’s water under the bridge, darlin’. But if you need space, tell us. Don’t just cut us off like that, ok?” You nod in agreement. “So what do you need from us? Do you want to call us your boyfriends?”

“I think I just…” You pause to mull over your words. They already were in all the ways that mattered, you just weren’t sure whether you were ready to define it entirely. At least not yet. “I think I just need to know that you’re happy. Just like this. With how we’ve been doing things.”

“Baby.” Bradley croons. So sweetly, so indulgently. And you get the first real smile you’ve seen from him since he arrived on your doorstep. It’s your turn to smile when he drops a kiss to the top of your thigh. “Are you happy?”

The answer is easy.

“Yes.”

He looks over at Jake. “And are you?”

Jake has his chin propped up on your shoulder. “I’m happy,” he confirms, kissing the spot behind your ear that always makes you shiver deliciously.

“And I definitely don’t have anything to complain about.” Rooster says, gesturing to his spot between your legs. You lightly tug on his hair and he laughs. “Yes, sweetheart, I’m happy too.” He reaches for your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it.

“So I was the only one overthinking things?”

“You sure were,” Hangman agrees, “You and that big brain of yours.” He trails open-mouth kisses up your neck. “Now have you straightened out your shit or are we going to have to do it for you?” he asks into the shell of your ear. You can feel the grin he’s wearing, and you’re positive if you turned to look at him you’d see those dimples of his.

“No promises,” you sing.

Because where’s the fun in that?

“There she is,” Bradley murmurs, honeyed and soft. A sigh escapes you when you feel his tongue along the inside of your thigh, even as your heart starts to race.

“That’s our girl.” Jake tips your head back, lips a whisper away from yours and desire reflected in his green eyes. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to kiss me until he makes you come. And then I’m going to fuck the attitude out of you while you apologize to Rooster for being so mouthy. We’re gonna remind you what it’s like to have two aviators wrapped around your little finger. Sound good?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply as he slips his tongue into your mouth at the same time Bradley licks into you. And you know this time you won’t have to beg for an orgasm, you’ll probably have to beg them to stop serving you them.

You feel yourself melt into them. The tension you’d been carrying since even before the bar fades with every one of their touches. Happy and content in knowing that they’re yours just as much as you are theirs.

And true to his word, you’re kissed through an orgasm. And another. And another.

That night, there are two mouths that never leave your body once.

Two sets of hands that are just as capable of keeping you grounded as they are giving you pleasure.

Two warm, strong bodies that give and take then hold you throughout the night.

Two men who- one day very soon - might possibly share your whole heart.

Many thanks to the person who sent me this ask! I had fun writing this one! Thank you for reading!

Many thanks to Jordan ( @gretagerwigsmuse ) as always!

If you want more of them, here is the fic that started it all!

You can read more of my stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

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kookiecrumb · 4 months ago

Text

Too Big.

cw: adult content (18+), smut

pairing: Jungkook x Y/N

wc: <1000

tags: light smacking, it hurts for like a second, graphic language, looooove (bf!jungkook), one shot, short fic, unbetaed, written in about an hour, bigdick!jungkook, idol au

summary: you fly out to meet your boyfriend after being long distance for a while and to do something special for the first time.

a/n: here!

You had to put it out of your mind that it was going to happen tonight.

After what felt like a lifetime of waiting, Jungkook was finally going to be right in front of you, completely naked, looking at you in a way that you’ve never experienced before.

Before all that, though, you needed to get picked up from the airport, arrive at his place, shower, and have something to eat.

The flight was excruciating to say the least. Your knees poked into your chest, practically, as you tried not to think too hard about how you were forced into invading your fellow passenger’s personal space by the stupid cabin engineer’s greedy design.

Whatever. It will be over soon and you’ll be up and out of this flying metal tube in the sky in a little over an hour.

You tried not to wince as you reached down for your bag to pluck a bag of seaweed snacks from one of the side pockets. They only charge so much for food at the airport because they know you don’t have any other option.

What are you gonna do? Pick up your car from the overnight parking garage two miles from the airport, drive all the way to the closest McDonald’s, repark your car, walk back to the airport and go through TSA again, all in time for your flight?

Ridiculous.

You’ve never been able to properly sleep on airplanes, so for the rest of the way to Incheon, you delicately balanced your tablet on the sad excuse of a cabin tray and watched your downloaded episodes on Netflix.

Sarah Jessica Parker was so hot back in the day. Retrospectively, though, Kristen Davis was criminally underrated in the earlier seasons. You crossed your arms and waited for the plane to hit the ground running.

—

You had this idea that you were hard to make cum. You weren’t able to do it when taking a dildo, so you figured it would be difficult for you to cum on Jungkook’s dick. No big deal. That wasn’t really the point, anyways.

Not only did you cum on Jungkook’s dick, you were able to several times while he was still inside you, pumping and smacking his hips against you in missionary position as your legs pinned his thighs, bucking upwards to take in as much of him as you physically could.

He’d hold you in his arms and look down at you with his long hair. He would look kind of cute at this angle if he didn’t have such a determined and almost fierce look on his face while he pushed on your thighs to get you to give a little bit.

He fucked you shallow. He methodically placed your hands beside your head to make sure they were out of the way of his arms, pressing into the mattress to offset his harder thrusts.

That’s when you felt a sharp pain deep in your gut. “Ow!” You chirped.

“Ow?!” Jungkook echoed, alarmed. “What? Did I hurt you?!” He pulled away, breathing heavily. Jungkook was kneeling on the bed, a look of concern washing his face as he postured his cock with his right hand.

“I’m not sure…” you frowned. “What happened?”

“I was just getting all the way in. Was that not comfortable at all?”

You glanced down at Jungkook’s cock. Fully hard, he was almost 8 inches long. On top of that, he had exceptional girth. He was just a little bit bigger than the dildo you had at home.

In fact, it was that very dildo that he gifted you to practice with one day that felt so small compared to him in actuality.

After a while of no response, Jungkook added: “It felt really good. I couldn’t really get all the way in until just a second ago and that’s when you said ‘ow’.”

“I think you might be just a little bit… too big,” you hesitated, surprised at the reality of things.

“I’ve heard it before. I’m sorry for hurting you.” Jungkook said, a tinge of disappointment in his voice.

“It’s okay. I still think you’re really hot. Do you think you could help me take your size?” You ask.

“Yeah. Of course. We can do it together. Here. Let me try from the side or back,” he prompts, shifting around so that he is almost spooning you.

He moves your leg over his side and uses his thumb and index to very lightly graze your labia to find your vagina.

He’s found it.

His fat tip splits you as he dives into your sweet and tight intimacy. He scoops your arms up so that your back lay flush against his chest and nips your ear between his teeth. “Is that better?” He puffs, an intoxicated smile spreading on his tender lips.

“Yeah~” you sigh, throwing away every unrelated thought out the window as you took in every drop of sweet fucking that he was giving you.

“Good~” he groans. His hands settle down on your hips as he bottoms out on you, tangibly snug against your cervix. He thrusts experimentally, rolling in.

Again, he rolls in and firmly pressed the tip of his cock against your cervix, his large hands cupping your hips.

“Fuck— Babe,” you whine. “More—“ was all you can manage.

“More?” He teases, pulling out just to smack back into you. His arms catch you in a close embrace as he screws your tight pussy. He fucks you with his leg over your thigh, curving his long, thick cock into you in a strict rhythm.

Not missing a beat, he spreads you on the bed and digs his knees into the mattress. He is now over you, his cock shifting inside of you. “That good?” He asks briefly.

“Mhm,” you insist, your head turned against a large and fluffy pillow.

Holy fuck was this an amazing view. Jungkook balanced on one hand to quickly jiggle your ass and smack it lightly, moaning at the sight. He wanted to bury his face in your cunt and suffocate in your thighs. The idea of being able to fuck you like this with his fat cock made him want to—

“Fuck! Y/N, you’re so hot,” he mumbled as he picked up the pace, his balls slapping against you.

Your mind was in a daze. There was nothing you could focus on expect the deep, pleasurable, satisfying sensation of your boyfriend filling you. His skin felt like soft warm sand on a beach, his languid thrusts milking every bit of delectation from your body.

You swell and contract around him, constricting his cock inside of you, which earns you a drawn out groan from Jungkook. He huffs.

Without much warning, your orgasm rolls over you. Jungkook staggers and rips out a soft, exhausted groan as he cums inside of you.

—

He kisses your cheeks and lips, turning you towards him. His forehead rests on yours. “I love you. I love you very much,” he says. “I will never ever hurt you. If it hurts again, you need to tell me.”

fic tag: @silversparkles11 , @lvoekook @sammy-steve-btsarmyakasammy, @kooliv @koobsessed @angelwonie , @hoseokgrecns , @bangsterz @swyseren, @sxtaep , @koostarcandy @hgema , @jjkeverlast, @nglmrk @devilsbooksworld @saweetspoiled , @exactlyfuriouscoffee and @unicornbabylover

#Jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bf!jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader smut #bts smut #bts x reader #Jungkook oneshot #jungkook short fic #jungkook spicy fic #jungkook fanfic #kpop smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook soft smut

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starcrossed-lov3rz · 7 months ago

Text

The Vow Spoken Through Time - Part 3

Daemon x Rhaenyra x Wife!Reader

Series: Series Masterlist

Warnings: MDNI, violence, minor character death, general filth, mild smut, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), and Daemon Targaryen is his own warning

Tags: marriage, poly relationship, Daemon being hopelessly in love with his wives, Queen!Rhaenyra

Words: 2.2K

Description: Y/N is having a rough morning. She's fired. She's hungover. She's in a stranger's bed. She's waking up in a new world? She's married?!

Rhaenyra and Daemon's day started normal. Waking up next to their darling wife before tending to their duties. The difference? Their wife is speaking in riddles and has no memories of them.

Check out more works in my Masterlist!

You gaze out across the stadium, shocked at the hundreds of people clamoring to see the violence and pageantry of the tournament. Your hands smooth down your dress anxiously. Rhaenyra picked a beautiful gown. The deep red of the gown is offset with gold embroidery along your shoulders and waist. The patterns resemble dragon scales, glistening as the light hits it.

Rhaenyra looks over, seeing your anxious movements and grabbing your hand to still the gesture. She brings it up to her mouth, kissing the back of your hand before she turns to address the crowd.

“Be welcome!” She shouts. “I know that many of you have traveled great distances to witness these games. I trust you will not be disappointed.”

The crowd’s cheers are deafening, but Rhaenyra continues once they die down to a dull roar. “Looking across the fine knights here today, I see a group without equal. May the luck of the seven shine on our combatants!”

She raises your joined hands in a cheer. You brace yourself for whatever disapproval might come from the crowd. If two women in modern days still got weird looks in public, you weren’t sure you were ready for whatever reaction this medieval world would have. The crowd continues to cheer, and you swear you can hear someone shouting “all hail the queens.”

Rhaenyra pulls you in for a chaste kiss before motioning for the tourney announcer to take over. Your cheeks are on fire from her very public display of affection. “I wasn’t expecting that reaction,” you admitted as you both took your seats.

“Whatever do you mean, darling?”

“I-” you pause for a moment. “You know? I just didn’t think people would be so accepting of our relationship?”

Rhaenyra laughs, “the smallfolk have always adored you. How could they not?”

“It’s just that people where I’m from-”

“You’re from here.” Rhaenyra interrupts, frowning. “Your place is with me, with us. Our people–your people–would fight wars in your name.”

You sigh in frustration. Rhaenyra, Daemon, and the maester were still convinced that you fell and all the memories of your past life were just an odd dream. It wasn’t a frequent argument, but one that never failed to begin at the most inconvenient times.

When you don’t respond, Nyra cups your face in her hands and forces you to look her in the eyes. “Do you know what the smallfolk see when they look at you?”

“Nyra-”

“They see the same thing that I see,” she says. “A queen.” Your hand comes up to cover hers as you lean into her palm.

Rhaenyra’s thumb gently strokes your cheek. “I love you. It doesn’t matter where you came from, you’re here now. You’re here, and you’re mine. Never forget that.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “It’s not fair,” you whisper. “You always know exactly what to say.”

Before Rhaenyra can respond, a yell from the arena draws your attention. “My queen! My lady!” Daemon’s voice reverberates through the stadium. Both you and Rhaenyra walk to the edge of the balcony, and the site nearly takes your breath away. Your husband is terrifying in his armor, and so, so, so attractive.

“Fuck,” you swear. The dark armor is covered in the Targaryen crest and adorned with dragon-reminiscent flairs throughout the pieces. Daemon removes his helmet, shaking our his hair and preening at the attention.

“My beautiful wives, I am certain that I will win this tournament.” Daemon boasts. “But with your favor, there will be no doubt.”

Rhaenyra laughs, “I don’t know. Should we offer our dear husband our favor?”

“Hmmm,” you pretend to think it over. “I fear there are many knights worthy of this honor. How am I to deci-”

“My love, must I get on my knees to beg your favor,” Daemon teases.

“It would certainly be a start,” you smirk. “I suppose I can give you our favor, on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“Win this tourney swiftly so we might celebrate your victory together.” You say, grabbing the favor.

Daemon winks at you, raising his fist as the crowd roars in approval. You watch your husband ride out to meet his first opponent.

“You know we are never going to hear the end of it if he wins,” Rhaenyra sighs. Daemon takes his place across from the other knight, placing his helmet back on and adjusting his grip on the jousting lance.

“Was there ever a doubt he would?” you ask as Daemon and his opponent charge at each other on horseback. The crash as the lance hit lands and breaks is unsettling. Daemon’s opponent flies from his saddle, landing hard on the ground.

“True,” Rhaenyra agrees. Daemon tosses the broken half of his lance, jumping to the ground and drawing his sword. “Next year I plan to find Daemon a real challenge.” Daemon stalks in a circle around his opponent, waiting for the knight to regain his footing and draw his weapon. The knight recovers, going on the offensive to swipe his sword at Daemon.

You snort in amusement. “Are the rest of the knights really that bad?” Daemon easily dances around blows, not even bothering to waste his energy by parrying them. He’s toying with the other knight. Letting him exhaust and embarrass himself in the arena before Daemon ends the fight. You see the ghost of a smirk play on Daemon’s lips as he tosses his helmet to the ground.

“No, they’re actually quite skilled,” Rhaenyra replies. The knight’s attacks become harder and more calculated. Daemon parries them with practiced ease. You see the knight lean in as he gets closer to say something to Daemon. They’re too soft for anyone else to hear, but Daemon clearly heard them. His smirk drops and his gaze darkens.

He’s ending this now. Daemon pushes the knight back, swinging a hard blow with his sword.

“Daemon is just….” The knight scrambles to parry the swing, but the blow is hard enough to dislodge his grip. Your eyes widen in shock, Daemon is ending more than this fight. You instantly snap your eyes shut, but you can still hear Rhaenyra’s words in time with Daemon’s strikes.

“That.”

“Much.”

“Better.”

The knight’s screams stop with the final blow. You open your eyes to peak at the scene in front of you. The knight is unmoving on the ground. His armor dented in. His sword hand on one side of the arena. His head at the other.

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you mutter.

“A Targaryen tourney without at least one death would be considered boring.”

Your eyes land on your husband. He’s looming over the headless body of the knight. Daemon spits on the corpse before walking away.

Even Rhaenyra is shocked, but regardless, the tournament continues on throughout the late afternoon. The other fights are nowhere near as violent as Daemon’s round. Daemon is eerily calm as he wins his rounds with brutal efficiency. He doesn’t kill another opponent, but he makes light work of each one.

After the stadium clears out, you walk with the maids back to your chambers as Rhaenyra left to greet some of the noble houses who haven’t visited Kings Landing since the last tournament. When you get back, you ask the maids to draw a bath and you gather up Daemon’s favorite soaps and oils. You didn’t realize just how serious a tournament was. After seeing that brutality, you were just relieved that Daemon was coming back safe.

The doors to your chambers shuts loudly,and you turn to see Daemon still in his armor. “Daemon-” He cuts you off with a kiss, sweeping you off your feet.

“I need you.” Daemon says, pulling at your gown as he struggles to unlace the back. Growling in frustration, he tears the fabric.

“Daemon! What’s gotten into you?” You yelp. “At least take off that damn armor first!”

“Fuck,” he swears, backing away from you as he begins slipping off his armor piece by piece. You reach forward to help him.

Once he’s rid himself of the armor, Daemon picks you up. You wrap your legs around his waist instinctively, and he grinds against you. He kisses and bites at your neck like a starved man. Whimpers and moans fall from your lips as you tug roughly at his hair. “Daemon, wait,” you say breathlessly.

“Hmm,” he rumbles as he pulls back.

“If you keep going, it’s going to ruin my plans,” you whine. “I wanted to spoil you. Please get in the bath before it gets cold.”

Daemon follows your gaze to the tub and sees your handiwork–candles meticulously placed around a steaming bath. The table next to the tub piled high with luxurious oils, wine, and fruits. “You did this for me?” He asks. You nod vigorously and he captures your lips in a heated kiss. “Gods above, you never fail to surprise me.”

You giggle as Daemon carries you to the tub and you both sink into the water. Daemon moans as the water eases over his sore muscles. You shift so that Daemon is leaning back against your chest and begin meticulously scrubbing his body. “You’re so perfect,” he groans as you massage at the knots in his shoulders.

You hum in response, focusing on the knots. You find yourself softly singing as you work, and you glance down to see Daemon nodding off. Moving to work on his hair, you gently detangle his braids and massage the soap into his scalp.

“Love,” you begin, “what happened in that first fight?” You feel Daemon’s body stiffen against yours.

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure? It didn’t seem like nothing.” You answer.

“It. Was. Nothing.” He’s definitely hiding something.

“No it wasn’t,” you insist. “He said something and you lost it. What did he say?”

“It doesn’t matter.” Daemon’s tone is short, but it’s clear he’s still upset over whatever that knight said.

“Yes it does, just te-”

“He called you a whore!” Daemon shouts, whipping around in the tub. “That spineless bastard called you a whore, and asked if he could take a turn after you finished eating Rhaenyra’s cunt on the balcony.”

You blink. Shocked. You assumed it was bad, but didn’t realize it would be quite that vulgar. “And you killed him for it?”

“If I could go back, I wouldn’t kill him,” Daemon bares his teeth as he hisses out the words.

You raise a brow in response.

“I would cut him apart piece by piece until he begged for death,” Daemon growls. “And when he’s on the brink of death, I would call for the maester to heal him so I could do it all over again.”

“Fuck,” you swear. Hearing your husband’s bloodthirst shouldn’t be this hot. Your breath quickens, and you shift.

Daemon notices your sudden shift in demeanor. “I see,” he grins. “I kill a man for disrespecting you, and all you can think about is my cock.”

You whine, desperate for Daemon to touch you. After he and Rhaenyra left you wanting this morning, you’ve been on edge all day. Daemon stands up, water sloshing from the tub as he climbs out and pours a glass of wine. He sips a mouthful before leaning down to kiss you. You moan as the wine hits your tongue. Daemon pulls back, popping a grape in your mouth before picking you from the tub and tossing you on the bed.

“I’ll just have to give my sweet girl exactly what she wants,” Daemon says. He drips wine across your body, lapping up the drops as he follows the trail with his tongue. Daemon knocks back the rest of his wine, placing the chalice on the dresser. He settles between your legs, wrapping his arms around your thighs as he dives into your cunt.

Daemon’s tongue swipes broad strokes across your cunt, lapping greedily. He suckles at your clit, and you cry out in pleasure as his hums vibrate against you.

“What is this?”

You try to shoot up to greet Rhaenyra, but Daemon’s arms have you locked in place. “Rha-Rhae-fuck-Rhaenyra” You struggle to speak as you feel your orgasm building. Your eyes roll back as Daemon moves an arm to slide two fingers into your weeping cunt. Moans fall from your lips as you buck into his mouth and hands.

Just before you climax, Daemon pulls back. “My queen,” he greets as Rhaenyra leans in for a kiss.

“I take it our girl couldn’t wait?”

Daemon grins. “She never does.”

NOTE: This was supposed to just be smut, but I got carried away. Anyway, hope you enjoyed bloodthirsty Daemon, I know I did. Next part coming Friday or Saturday night (and yes, it’s going to pick up RIGHT where we left off). I have two delicious requests in the works: 1) a Feyd Rautha request (featuring the iconic darlings), and 2) a Daemon request (featuring some angst and steamy make-up sex). ~ Lacie <3

Taglist: @syraxnyra @avalyaaa

Want to be added to a taglist? Click HERE!

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #hotd #hotd daemon #hotd rhaenyra #daemon targaryen #rheanyra targaryen #daemon x rhaenyra #daemon x reader #daemon x rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra x reader #daemon smut #hotd smut #hotd fic

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clawsdevour · 5 months ago

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.,₊˚⊹kita bf hcs

wc: 0.5k content warning: fluff, slight smut, aged up, post-time skip, mention of praise, not proofread, my shitty writing

ʚɞ♡︎ ˚⋅.🦊

-Kita, the type of boyfriend to be so patient with you, giving you all the time in the world. He simply just likes to watch you, observing what you like and don't like to remember for future needs.

-Kita, the type of boyfriend to plant your favorite flowers in his own garden. Whenever he goes out to water and tend to his garden he's always thinking about you with a small smile on his face. He'd even pluck one and give it to you to show you that his love is true.

-Kita, the type of boyfriend to enjoy holding your hand so much. He loves it when you give him a little squeeze to let him know that you love him. Whenever you do this he'd look down at you with his face beaming and squeeze back to reciprocate his feelings.

-Kita, the type of boyfriend to be completely taking care of your own space. He loves just cleaning around the house, seeing how you keep your place nice and tidy, just the little things. He'd also love to cook you simple meals or brew you a nice cup of fresh tea/coffee.

-Kita, the type of boyfriend to love your comforting presence. He doesn't need much to feel loved, especially when you're able to show it more than him. Your warm presence and actions show him all he needs to know.

-Kita, the type of boyfriend to understand you the most when it comes to setting boundaries. He fully respects it and just doesn't question it. If there's a hurdle that offsets your relationship, he will work his way through it.

-Kita, the type of boyfriend to have your parents think that he's TOO polite and proper upon first impressions. He's always asking if your parents need his support even when it's the littlest things, like grabbing a plate from the top shelf of a cabinet. Your parents admire his honest and humble nature as well as the way he's able to confidently express the love he has for you.

-Kita, the type of boyfriend to be so gentle and caring upon entering inside you because he doesn't want to end up hurting you. His hand would caress your face and wipe off any of the tears that formed from your eyes. He'd often ask if you need to take any breaks while landing soft kisses onto your skin.

-Kita, the type of boyfriend to ALWAYS have an awestruck facial expression whenever you want to take charge and hop on top of his cock. He finds it astonishing whenever he's watching you climb onto him, watching you bounce on him he can't help but get harder.

-Kita, the type of boyfriend to peel you some fruit while you're in the shower so you can gain back some energy before sleeping. He likes to have deep conversations face to face with you under the sheets while he's tucking your loose strands of hair behind your ears.

masterlist here

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peachsayshi · 7 months ago

Text

₊ ⊹ . ݁ MILLION DOLLAR BABY ₊ ⊹ .

(sex worker!suguru geto x rich girl!reader)

⊹ tags: suguru geto x female reader; nanami kento x satoru; sukuna is reader's ex; character mentions: yuki, mei mei, shoko, toji; alludes to dd/lg relationship (very very mildly) with sukuna; a mix of angst/smut/fluff; domestic; non curse au; reader was in a toxic relationship; reader has daddy issues a bit lol; mentions of troubled past; mentions of death (parental)

:about: you grew up in a supremely wealthy household, but that came with a price. you’ve never had control over your own life, and now your father is set to marry you off. luckily, there's someone else who captures your heart. what does it matter that you pay him for his company?

:note: hi, everyone! this story is finally here, and it's one that's taken me forever to work but I actually loved this piece. I haven't been excited about something I've written in a while. I hope it lives up to all your expectations. comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3 - this fic is one shot, and I am willing to explore stories with the side characters. I'll happily answer any lore questions regarding sex worker geto x rich girl reader, but there will not be a part two or more parts of their story. It is a standalone.

wc: 14K+

The ceiling is covered with hanging irises, each one carefully handcrafted in paper. Edison bulbs dip down from between in staggering heights, illuminating the bar around you in warm light. It’s crowded tonight, clinking glasses and roaring laugher bouncing off the walls and clashing against the bass coming through the speakers. You scan the crowd, anticipation making your stomach flutter, but it quickly eases when you spot a head of golden hair among the audience.

Nanami is at the bar, looking dapper as usual in a chocolate brown suit offset by a cream colored shirt. He’s drinking a whiskey when you approach him, the amber liquid mirroring the touch of bronze on his cheekbones. You sling your designer purse off your shoulder (the latest splurge of the week) and slide into the seat right next to him.

“And how was your vacation?” you ask, greeting him with a question and noticing his mouth draw into a firm line.

“Let’s not talk about it,” he insists, his eyes a little sad which only makes your stomach ache at the sight.

He’s your closest friend - the only real friend you have. Kento Nanami doesn’t carry two faces. He sticks to the one that he has. As one of the top investors in the country, he made a name by keeping the rich wealthy. He loathes his job and the pressures surrounding it - a walking hypocrite for despising the life that lines his pockets.

He can’t find an escape no matter how hard he tries.

And that's why you’re both two peas in a pod.

He does, however, like you - not because of your background, but because you don’t try to be something that you are not as well. In a world where you are surrounded by parasites, Kento proved to be a nearly extinct butterfly, quietly fluttering by your side as you both drift across the harsh jungle around you.

You concede, knowing better than to push his buttons. “Okay, I guess we aren’t talking about it…”

“Tell me something else. Do you ever know how to walk into the room and not be the center of attention?”

You smirk as he calls the waiter over. Your presence easing the twinge of disdain on his face.

“What are you trying to say, hmm?”

“You look nice tonight. New dress?”

“New dress, new bag, new nails...” you list off, showing off each expensive purchase as you check them off your list.

Nanami shakes his head playfully before ordering your usual once the bartender approaches. He angles his body towards you and breathes out a heavy sigh.

“How are you?” He asks, genuine concern masking his face.

Your shoulders drop. “I don’t want to talk about it…”

His expression softens, one hand moving to touch your thigh exposed by the slit of your dress.

“When do you meet Naoya?”

He’s the only other person who knows about the pending engagement. The only person who offered you a way out by proposing instead. Despite his stance within the social community, you know that it’s not an offer that you can easily accept.

Kento wasn’t bred into this world, and that makes all the difference.

Your father would never accept a man from such a humble background. Especially not one whose offer wouldn't benefit him by any means.

“A few weeks from now,” you reply, eyes shifting to the bartender who passes your drink towards you. “He’s given my father specifications on how I should be presented…”

Your friend scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Pardon my vulgarity but he just sounds like the kind of guy who wants to swing his dick around. I’m surprised he hasn’t shown up tonight…”

The opening of the Ayame Lounge & Bar was invite only, exclusive to socialites and the elite. You know that Naoya must have received an invitation, everyone from the Zen’in family was here in attendance including the infamous outcast Toji.

“He wouldn’t be caught dead here,” you inform, picking up your beverage and taking a small sip. “Naoya likes to uphold “tradition” but we all know it’s just a facade.”

Kento’s thumb strokes your skin tenderly, worry ingrained in his gentle eyes.

The two of you spend the night talking, catching up on the little things since his return from a two week vacation in Malaysia. He keeps the conversation light, telling you about his fantastic accommodation and all the food that he ate while he was away. In between you find yourself glancing over his shoulder, your eye on the crowd taking in the people around you.

That’s when you spot him, standing just a few feet away, looking like a demigod among mere aristocrats. His hair is pulled back into a neat bun, a layer of his bangs kissing his forehead. His face is serious, jaw tight and eyes sharp as he focuses on his white haired counterpart. The black tee hugs his torso, his neat slacks cinched by the waist with a leather belt. You can’t help but bite your bottom lip, your mind drifting away from the conversation at hand.

Your friend notices, of course. Kento is so tuned in to everything around him that he almost can’t help himself. He glances over his shoulder to see what caught your attention, only to instantly turn back around and stare at the whiskey glass on the table.

The tips of his ears burn red.

You register the response, knowing exactly what struck him to react in that way.

Satoru Gojo - former porn star, turned model, turned mega influencer. With a follower count in the hundreds of millions, he is the world’s hottest it boy. Nobody can deny his sheer beauty - whenever he walks into a room, he manages to steal a glance from every single person within his vicinity. Due to a rare genetic condition, his sapphire blue eyes and frosty white hair earned him the title of “The Prince”, and the people were desperate to share a place by his side.

Suguru and Satoru were also the best of friends, a fact that Suguru revealed to you one night in bed. The two of them met on set, back when Satoru was still doing adult films. At the time, Suguru was just a camera man and it was Satoru who told him he could increase his earnings if he just performed instead.

You remember telling Suguru: “it’s crazy how quickly his life changed”

“Some people are just lucky,” he responded, though you easily picked up the bitterness laced in his words.

What most people don’t know is that Satoru Gojo is also involved with the man seated right next to you. You stumbled upon Nanami’s secret affair by accident when the two of you attended a resort opening by hotel heiress, Yuki Tsukumo. Everyone was invited to stay overnight for the weekend, and the morning after your first night there, you walked over towards Nanami’s room to grab some breakfast. He greeted you in a grey robe with his hair tousled, with hickeys trailing the side of his neck. You quirked a brow in his direction, your mouth forming into a blatant circle when you found Satoru Gojo fast asleep on his bed right behind him.

The man in question looks away from Suguru towards you and Kento. His brows lifting in surprise when he spots your golden haired friend, but your eyes rest on Suguru who gestures that he will catch Satoru around.

They both walk in opposite directions.

You take a sip of your drink, your eyes shifting to Nanami.

“You’ve got about five seconds to figure out what you want to say because Satoru is walking over here as we speak,” you inform.

He exhales and straightens his back, his guard entirely up.

You smile at Satoru when he approaches you, his pearly whites radiant as always.

“Hi!” He says casually, though you can hear a touch of apprehension in his voice. “Mind if I cut in?”

“Not at all!” you respond, “Can I get you a refill?”

His cheeks blush a subtle shade of pink, the tiny gesture making you understand how easily it is to fawn over such a beautiful face. “It’s just soda, but sure”

“Not drinking tonight?�� You continue, glancing between him and Nanami as you wait for your friend to interject.

“Actually, I’m three years sober,” he explains.

“Good for you!” You cheer honestly, before turning to the bartender and ordering him another soda.

From your peripheral vision you see him inch closer towards your friend.

“I haven’t heard from you in a while,” he states, though his voice comes across as a little small.

“I’ve been busy,” Nanami curtly replies, and your brows furrow at his unusual tone.

“Too busy to even say hi?” Satoru continues, his voice low enough that only the three of you can hear each other.

“Aren’t you here with a date?” Nanami chides, glancing up at him with a mocking eye.

“Utahime isn’t my date, we both got invited together by our agency…” Satoru answers through gritted teeth. “Besides, I was hoping to spend time with you. I haven’t heard from you since Kuantan…”

Nanami’s face burns an even brighter shade of crimson, the intimacy of Satoru’s comment flaring his humiliation.

“Come on,” the white haired prince teases, attempting to ease the discomfort. “Don’t be such a grump. Let’s go outside. Get a little fresh air.”

You can see that people are starting to stare at the three of you.

Wherever Satoru goes, eyes follow him.

While he may be immune to the attention, you can clearly see that Nanami is not.

“No, thank you.”

“What? You going to make me beg?” Satoru presses cheekily, but there is a twinge of desperation in his voice.

“Begging is not difficult for somebody like you,” Nanami bites, and you can’t help but glare at him in shock.

“Kento!” you chastise, but the look on his face speaks volumes.

Regret.

Instantaneous Regret.

In front of him is a visible hurt that breaks Satoru’s face, like paint slowly chipping away. His eyes gloss over, and he anxiously rubs his hand over the back of his undercut before excusing himself and turning on his heel.

Nanami covers his face with his palm, while you can only stare at him in disbelief.

“How can you say that to him? I thought you liked him!” You whisper.

“I-I didn’t mean to-”

“You act like you’re ashamed of him whenever he’s around you…”

Nanami avoids your eye, “How do you think this makes me look? I can’t have people seeing us together. I don’t want the world to swallow me up just because he prefers being gawked at by everyone around him”

“That’s his job - it’s how he earns a living. I can’t believe you would degrade him over it,” you shake your head, unaware of where your sudden defenses are coming from.

“I know that…”

“Is that why you don’t want to talk about your trip? Did something happen?”

The man grows quiet, a sigh escaping him.

“I broke up with him”

“You what?” You gasp.

“It'll never work. Our lives are too different”

“You didn’t even give him a chance, Ken. He likes you. He really, really likes you.”

“What chance is there to give? My life would come apart because of him. He would never be truly mine. I would have to share him with the rest of the world day in and day out. And the worst part is that…what should be intimate between us will never be ours either. Do you know that he’s still the highest streamed porn star in the world-”

“He’s just a person. A person like me and you. Neither one of us chose this life. I didn’t ask to be born into my family, and you weren’t asked to save yours from debt. Yet, here we are. Existing in a world that we had to carve out for ourselves. Don’t you think the same applies to him?”

You take another sip of your drink, your cheeks warming with anger at your friend’s condescending tone towards Satoru.

Although, you find your reasons for defending him to be far more self serving.

“So what if he sells his body? That’s his choice to make. Does it change anything else about him? Does it change his feelings for you?” You lecture, “I can’t believe that you be this ungrateful over skewed morals. If you both care about each other, there is no reason why you can’t be together. Take it from somebody who’ll probably never get the chance. This isn’t something you want to simply let go of, Kento. You’ll regret this decision for the rest of your life.”

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Nanami downs his whiskey and excuses himself then, your words stinging the microscopic cuts on his heart. You find yourself a little flustered after watching him walk away, unsure of where that outburst even came from.

The eyes surrounding you look away.

You know you’ve given everyone within your peripheral area a story to gossip about. One that would be twisted and chewed until there is no morsel of truth left in it.

Your drink gives you enough liquid courage to socialize and face the music instead.

You steer your way through the crowd hoping to find one person in particular, but instead you are caught among the net of cliques, old faces, and fake friends. You manage to bypass any pointed questions, passing through each conversation with a forced grin and entertaining the discussions at hand with fluffy anecdotes and petty rumours.

When you walk away, you know full well that there will be whispers behind your back.

That’s the give and take about this world. Everyone is a vulture secretly waiting to witness the rise and fall of those around them. It’s a vicious circle, which is why nobody ever reveals their true hand in the process.

You glance around the room, honing in on the handsome dark haired boy you’ve grown entirely too attached too except you spot someone else in between who makes your spine seize.

Your toes curl in your pointed heels.

Your heart stutters unsteadily.

Blushed strands, a wolfish grin, and a broad build - Sukuna always takes up far more room than he needs.

You personally believe it’s because his ego is so massive it requires that extra space.

You haven’t seen the man in five years, not after the messy relationship that that followed your even messier break up.

You should have known better than to get involved with him while still so young.

You remember that version of you. When you first met Sukuna, you were a small rabbit who had accidentally hopped its way into a lone wolf’s den. Twenty one and just embracing the glitz and glamor of the world around you. The man was charming, flirtatious and most of all dangerous. You couldn’t help but return to his lair, especially when he would take the time and effort to approach you at every function, party and gathering that you attended. When you think about your relationship with Sukuna, it fills you with shame until you can only drown in it. There is a reason why you’ve kept it a secret for so long. Even staring at him right now, the dishonor hangs on your shoulder like a weighted sin that you’re burdened to carry for the rest of your life. Every time it hits, the memories play like a movie on hyper speed.

How often you allowed him to spill his seed all over your body. How often he brought you to tears with his tongue between your legs. How often you would moan the words “daddy” over and over again while riding him. How often you let him manipulate your heart. How often you let him convince you that you were happy.

That twisted relationship was testament to how broken you were.

You didn’t even know about his wife who lived in Kyoto until it was far too late.

Your instinct tells you to turn on your heel and walk in the other direction, but you catch Suguru just up ahead in the crowd and your courage outweighs your hesitation.

You manage to stride past Sukuna, a darting feline scurrying towards the safety of a shadow. Your hammering heart steadies itself when the trail of his strong cologne is a safe distance behind you. You nervously clutch onto the strap of your purse, exhaling a quick breath before marching up to Suguru.

You tap his shoulder twice.

He spins around, eyes lifting as a smile spreads across his handsome face.

Like a full moon on a clear night sky.

“Well, isn’t this a lovely surprise.”

“I sure hope so,” you remark, biting your bottom lip playfully as you glance at your own feet.

Suguru chuckles, taking a step closer. “It is.”

You glance up at him from underneath your lashes, your heart vibrating with pure excitement. You think it’s silly to have such a schoolgirl infatuation over him, especially since you understood the terms that surrounding your relationship.

You pay him for his company.

You aren’t supposed to have a crush on man who you employ to have to sex with you.

Yet, your gut tells you otherwise. Convinces you that the softness in which he speaks is reserved only for you.

“Are you here with anyone?” You ask a little breathlessly, hoping that you weren’t interrupting him working.

Suguru shakes his head.

“Satoru invited me,” he clarifies, and it’s an answer that only makes you giddy.

“Oh!” You squeak, “well that’s nice. It’s a really exclusive party, make sure you to take it in…”

His eyes blatantly fall over you, cascading down your body like ink dripping over a canvas.

Your cheeks warm.

He’s not even hiding that he’s checking you out, and it triggers the wild desire within you.

“Are you here alone?” He questions.

You nod your head, knowing full well that Kento is probably in the midst of a heated conversation with his distraught lover and won’t be returning anytime soon.

“Why don’t you join us then?” He adds, cocking his head to point at the table behind him.

You glance over his shoulder, barely recognizing the crowd.

A fact that seems ideal to you.

“I’d love to,” you say with a pretty smile, all the while Suguru’s eyes continue sparkling.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The last time you saw Suguru was a few weeks ago, where your heavy heart spilled the news of your pending engagement.

“An arranged marriage, huh?” he whispered in the dark, his sharp eyes dipping to your naked chest while his delicate fingers carefully pushed the bedsheet further down to your hips.

You inched a little closer into his frame, soaking in the outlines of his chiseled torso and bringing one finger to trace little shapes on his broad shoulder.

Your brows furrowed with annoyance, “yeah, ever heard of the Zen’in family?”

Suguru scoffed, breaking character for only a second but it’s something that you’ve caught him doing more recently. He doesn’t hold his reactions around you as tightly as he used to. The front of this alter ego that he created faltering, which is probably why you find yourself drawn to the person existing underneath the mask of the seducer.

You sigh before continuing your explanation, “my father thinks Naoya Zen’in is a perfect match for me.”

An uneasy expression flickered across Suguru’s face, but he suppresses it before allowing it to linger.

You lifted yourself up onto your elbow and rest your cheek on your palm. “What is it?”

Suguru mirrors your position, his large hand gliding back and forth over the slope of your hips and waistline which sent goosebumps all over your body. “I’ve heard that Naoya…” Suguru stated, pinching the pads of his fingers lightly against your flesh before leaning forward to kiss the crease between your brows, “can be a handful to deal with…”

You thread your fingers around his neck, your lips finding his jaw where you return a kiss. “And who told you that?” you murmured as the weight of Suguru’s body rolls on top of yours.

You were staring at his devastatingly handsome face from below. The longer you spent time with him the more you began to wonder about his circumstances and a reoccurring thought crossed your mind once more.

Suguru could truly be anything he wanted, but instead he was here making a killing off of fucking lonely women and porn videos.

You don’t judge his choices, but you couldn't help but feel puzzled by the situation especially when you knew the trajectory of his best friend’s career path.

One photo shoot at a mid-level fashion brand skyrocketed Satoru Gojo’s career and made him a household name. Yet, Suguru Geto was a taboo that was whispered behind closed doors.

“I have a client who likes to gossip,” he admitted.

That’s all you got because Suguru kept everything else about his clients confidential. You shivered when his mouth met your neck, his lips sucking along the tender skin that sent goosebumps all over your chest, but there’s an ache in your heart when you consider that if it wasn’t for the signed cheque in your purse, he wouldn’t even be here in the first place.

Not a single man you’ve met in the world compared to Suguru. You’ve never known how sweet lovemaking can be until he fucked you for the time. Not only was he beautiful beyond comprehension, but he was charming and extremely smart. You found yourself enjoying his company beyond physical purposes, and conversations with him turned out to be one of your favorite ways to pass time.

“Think we’ll still get together when you’re a missus?” he teased, his lips trailing lower to your collar bones and hovering just a above your breasts.

The thought of you getting married only made you sick.

“Do you peg me as a terrible wife? a woman who would happily cheat on her husband?” you questioned, your voice trembling when Suguru circled his lips around your hard nipple.

He hummed, drawing out a whimper when he nipped at the bud lightly, his tongue gliding over the hardened nub.

“No,” he answered, his voice dropping an octave and your mind swirled when you contemplate if that strange tone is actually jealousy. He rested his chin on your chest, his inky hair framing his face in a waterfall of obsidian. “I do, however, peg Naoya as a terrible husband.”

You sank your fingers into his locks, “it doesn’t matter who my father chooses. All these men are the same. Naoya is no worse than the rest. I’m trapped regardless…”

It was the first time you allowed yourself to think about Sukuna when in bed with Suguru. The first time you thought about the last four years and the many men who tried to weasel their way into your heart just for the sake of obtaining status. The discomfort is written plainly on your face. Suguru doesn’t know that seeking him out was your way of taking matters into your own hands, even in just the smallest way.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he responded sincerely, the kindness in his voice the reason why your eyes prick with tears.

You sniffled, using your free hand to wipe away a rogue droplet that freely falls down your cheek. Suguru adjusted his position so he was lying by your side. He didn't say anything but draws you into his chest for a hug, enveloping you in his warmth. You tried hard not to consider the reality of the situation, and accept the gesture freely as you cuddle him.

But the moment of peace is interrupted by a loud vibration. You and Suguru both perked up to stare at his phone buzzing on the side table.

Your heart sank.

Another client.

Suguru reached his arm around to grab the phone, and you closed your eyes to inhale his natural scent, trying to soak him in for as long as you can before he leaves you like he’s done many times before.

To your surprise he simply switched it off, before proceeding to wrap his arm back around you to return to his position.

“You sure you don’t need to take that?” you mumbled, trying to play off your disappointment as casually as possible.

“I’m booked out for the rest of the evening,” he answered nonchalantly, “there’s no reason to respond.”

A tickle in your belly sent sparks all over your skin. “but your cheque only covers the hours we agreed on…”

Two fingers touched the underside of your chin, and Suguru tilted your head up so you were both face to face again. “Don’t worry about it,” he consoled, his thumb lightly outlining your bottom lip, “this is on the house.”

What bliss it was to fall asleep in his arms that night. You recall waking up right before dawn to find him in deep slumber, his strong arm draped protectively across your body with the heat cocooning you from the rest of the world.

Disappointment shattered you the next morning, when you were greeted by the sun and an empty bed.

You’re not sure when Suguru had snuck out, but you were puzzled to find that your cheque was still tucked away safely in your purse.

It was the first time he walked away without any payment.

You still vividly remember his reaction when he met you just a little over a year ago.

“You’re young,” he blurted, his eyes widening with confusion.

“We’re around the same age,” you replied defensively, already feeling insecure for having hired him after spending weeks watching his videos. You didn’t even know about his house calls until you heard it from a source within your social circle. "Is this how you greet all your clients?”

Suguru raised his brow in contemplation, “my other clients don’t look like you…”

Over time you learned that he catered to a specific demographic: older divorcees and cheating housewives.

The person you might turn into years from now if this marriage goes through.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

After that night you told yourself that you would schedule another meeting with Suguru to compensate him for his last session.

Right now, all you can think about is your heart hammering when Suguru subtly interlaces his fingers with your own, and leads you through the crowd until you both find a safe spot on the corner of the lounge chair. His group is far too engrossed in their own conversations to notice you both, drunk on the buzzing night and enjoying the many amenities of this exclusive party.

“You look nice,” you compliment, catching Suguru’s attention while trying to ignoring his knees bumping against yours.

“As do you,” he replies, his voice smoother than velvet. “But you don’t need me to tell you that you’re gorgeous.”

Oh but I do, you think, masking your excitement with a giggle and casual roll of your eyes. I could hear you tell me that forever.

Suguru shyly looks down at his lap, hiding his own smile.

It’s strange, you think, how the two of you are talking. Like this man hasn’t been inside you multiple times and made you cum until you can’t think straight. Like he doesn’t know your body in the most intimate sense.

Like you don’t fund a decent chunk of his salary.

“Are you enjoying the party?”

Suguru shrugs, “It’s not too bad. Though, I’m not one for big crowds if I am being completely honest...”

“Makes sense. I don’ get a kick out of it as much as I used to.”

Suguru angles his body to face you, giving you his full attention. “Why’s that?”

You sigh, your hands suddenly feeling empty without a drink. You sling your purse off your shoulder and place it between you both, before proceeding to fiddle with the fabric of your dress instead.

You can lie, but you don’t know how.

Well, you don’t know how to lie with him.

Something about starting this contract with Suguru unveiled a level of vulnerability in you that you can’t seem to hide. The first night you both spent together you were a nervous wreck, stumbling and bumbling over words trying to find excuse after excuse as to why a woman of your age would even hire him. By your third appointment, you asked if he could be slow and gentle with you, the emotional scars of your previous relationship a stinging wound. You were desperate for tenderness, and Suguru obliged with your request. By the end you found yourself reaching your climax with tears in your eyes.

If you were to list out more moments like this, you would simply go on and on.

You can’t hide your truth with Suguru when it was the first thing you’ve ever shown him.

“Because it’s a constant reminder that I can be in a room full of people I know and still feel incredibly alone…” you mumble, your gaze catching his.

His hand finds your thighs, the warmth of his large palm burning through the fabric of your dress.

“You’re not alone tonight, sweetheart,” he reassures.

“You don’t have to be so nice…” you insist, suddenly self conscious over his flattery. The same sweetness he bestows upon you when you’re both locked away in a hotel room somewhere, but you didn’t sign off on any bonus transactions tonight.

He squeezes your thigh and tilts his head. “But I like being nice to you”

He says it so matter of factly it almost makes you faint.

Your brows upturn with confusion. “Why?”

His touch expands upward, grazing over the curve of your thigh, bunching the material of your dress between his fingers. He leans closer, the scent of bergamot wafting up your nose and kissing your neck.

“Look there,” he states, and you follow the line of his gaze.

“That woman has been married for fifteen years and her husband never got her off once. And that woman…” he continues, shifting his eyes from body to body, “has a birth mark just above her hip bone. And at the table right behind us,”

When you turn your face you accidentally bump into the tip of his nose.

“...are two sisters who pretend they get along well but are currently in a massive fight over their inheritance”

Your stomach coils with jealousy. “Acquaintances of yours?”

Suguru leans back slightly, giving you both room to breathe.

“Yes, clients…” he confirms, “there’s a few of them here tonight, but you’re the only one who acknowledges me. I’m just a dirty little secret to the rest.”

Your envy dwindles into sympathy, and you can’t help but let the question slip.

“How does that make you feel?”

There’s a twitch in Suguru’s jaw, a hint of scarred pride. You know he has plenty of it, he just hides it well.

The man shrugs, averting his sharp gaze as he downs the rest of his drink. “It is what it is”

Oh, but that response doesn’t nothing to help your heart, the muscle practically screaming at your brain to do so something and make him feel better.

Mindlessly, you loop both arms around his bicep, casually resting your chin on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way...”

You’re not sure why you’re apologizing, but you’re hoping it’ll mean something to him. He turns to face you, and if he inched a little closer he could probably kiss you.

“You are an enigma to me”

“In what way?”

He brushes his lips past your own, making you catch your breath for a moment. His mouth trails its way up to your ear, and he whispers a sentence that sends goosebumps running all over your body.

“In the way that how a woman like you can fit in a life like this”

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The night carries on, the pulse of hedonism sending reverberations across the establishment. The crowd grows larger, the air a potion of liquor, expensive cologne, sweat and pleasure. The lights dim, inducing everyone into the trance of the ambience set around them, allowing them to indulge and consume. Your conversation with Suguru feels like minutes, but two whole hours pass with the both you concealed from the crowd. You’re almost mesmerized by him when he talks, cast under an entirely different spell that seems to effect nobody else. His touches turn more intimate the longer you speak, with Suguru securing his arm around your waist and leaning back against the chair as he keeps you tucked into his frame.

That’s another thing you started noticing - how this man likes to hold you.

He even did it when you were in bed together last.

And the time before that.

And the time before that-

If you weren’t surrounded by so many eyes you would simply curl into him, but you find yourself restraining while thinking of what excuse might work to get you both out of here because you just want to be alone with him.

“Can I get you a drink?” Suguru offers, a wave of disappointment rolling into you as he untangles himself slowly.

“Just some water...”

Suguru kisses the inside of your wrist with the reassurance that he’ll be right back, but the public display only makes your cheeks bloom with endearment.

“Got it”

When he stands up and walks away is when you notice how the crowd around you has dispersed. Most of Suguru’s party were gone - standing either by the bar or caught in the middle of the dance floor. You can see that there were a few shifty eyes staring at you, and a lump forms in your throat when you realize that by allowing yourself to melt into Suguru it meant that you revealed your weakness to the rest of the wild.

You take a second to readjust - fixing the hem of your dress before pulling out your pocket mirror and reapplying your lipstick. You fight off any anxious thoughts, sticking a big metaphorical middle finger to whoever was watching you with any hint of judgement.

Your care for Suguru outweighed their own by tons.

You just didn’t know how far you had let your guard down until a strange shadow veils over you.

“Red still looks good on you.”

Your heart doesn’t sink, it seizes, collapses into itself when you drop the mirror in your hand. His dark chuckle makes your spine tingle with unease. Sukuna kneels to pick up your mirror, his devilish smiling greeting you as you swallow the lump in your throat.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” He teases, huffing out another laugh when you snatch the pocket mirror from his hand and quickly throw your things back into your purse.

“I have to go.”

You bolt onto your feet, only to pause when his contact scorches your forearm.

“What’s the rush? I’m just saying hi.”

You shrug him off aggressively, eyes violent and full of fury.

“I don’t want to say hi to you. As a matter of fact, I hope that we never have to speak again.”

“C’mon doll, don’t be like that. It’s water under the bridge…”

His nonchalance enrages in you ways that you can’t describe, but rather than make a scene you smoothly shove him aside before uttering “asshole” and storming off towards the bar.

Your frantic eyes search for your solace, of the man who can suture any wound that’s in desperate need of healing. You spot him from behind, noticing that he is speaking to a friend, his shoulder leaning on the bar as he patiently waits to pick up the drinks like he promised. Refusing to look back because you know Sukuna is probably on your trail, you breathe out your apprehension to compose yourself and keep one hand securely on your purse before steadily making your way towards to Suguru.

You hear the two of them as you draw closer, unintentionally eavesdropping on the conversation at hand.

“Who’s the chick?” his friend asks.

“A friend.” Suguru replies.

“Which friend?” they press.

“None of your business…”

“Ah, one of your desperate clients I’m guessing?”

You cease before making your presence known.

Stunned; your face boiling with embarrassment.

“Shut up.”

“It’s so obvious, Suguru-” his friend scoffs, “she’s practically crawling on your lap. It’s fucking pathetic, don’t you think?”

Pathetic?

The word splits you into half.

Is that how Suguru sees you?

Is that how everyone else does to?

Something clicks then, every memory and act of kindness tainted with the thought the man was simply pitying you. That the root of his good-hearted nature was merely sympathy towards a sad, broken little rich girl.

Suguru picks up the drink, mumbling a “fuck off” before turning on his heel only to find you standing there stupefied by his friend’s demeaning commentary. Only an idiot would assume that you probably didn’t hear a thing, but Suguru is far smarter than that. Whatever trace of the mask he’s been wearing dissipates then, and you see the genuine concern on his face. He parts his lips but you’re too wounded for an explanation, and you instantly dash past both of them, excusing yourself politely before speed walking your way towards the exit.

You can hear him call out your name, but there is no way you would let that man see you crying after what was just said.

Of course he doesn’t like me, you self-consciously deliberate, I pay him to fuck me.

I pay him to fucking like me.

A sob leaves you, and you cover your mouth with the back of your hand as you rush past the bouncer and dart out the front door, leaving a crowd of people staring at you with confusion. All of them hoping to make their way inside.

“Must be drunk,” one person says, while another screams at the bouncer “hey, can you let us in?! Someone just left!”

You strut down the street, desperately trying to maintain your balance as you dab your eyes lest your tears ruin your make up. You hear someone call out your name, half hopeful that it might Suguru but when you glance over your shoulder all you see is the dreadful sight of your ex-boyfriend.

You keep walking. “Don’t follow me.”

Sukuna is quick to catch up, practically jogging down the street and you curse your choice in footwear for slowing you down.

“Then don’t keep running away.”

You halt, the man nearly colliding into you from behind.

“What?!” you spit out as you glare up at him. “What do you want from me?”

Sukuna arches his brow, the smell of whiskey sticking to him. “The fuck got you so worked up?”

You wipe away any leftover tears, your indignation towards this man overriding all other emotions.

“None of your fucking business…”

Sukuna reaches for your elbow, “Let’s not be testy. My car is in front of the bar. Let me take you home.”

You already caught that eye sore of a ridiculously expensive sports car when you stepped out of club. “I’d rather walk home barefoot on a bed of hot coals then go anywhere with you.”

“Don’t be like that, kitten…”

“Don’t,” you snapped, “call me that.”

“You know I still nothing but love for you, right?” He slurs mildly, “Let me take you back to my place and we can talk-”

His thumb grazes your elbow gently. Once upon a time you actually believed that his affection was real, but you’re older and wiser to know the truth now. “You miss my pussy,” you crudely admonish, “you don’t give a fuck about me.”

He pinches your elbow with mild irritation. “Why don’t you tuck those claws back. I’m trying to have a fucking conversation.”

“If a conversation is what you want, then speak to your fucking wife-” you hiss, striking a cord that makes Sukuna furrow his brows which brings you an odd sense of satisfaction.

His face falls.

You huff with approval.

“What?” your mock, “cat got your tongue?”

“Is everything alright?”

You and Sukuna both halt, your heads twisting to face whoever spoke with Sukuna letting go of you faster than you can even blink. You only catch a tiny glimpse of his fear, the terror that somebody caught him in the act.

Thankfully, it was only Suguru.

Your body hums with relief.

One hand is in his pocket, the other keeping a helmet tucked under his wing. His stance is relaxed but his irises are piercing daggers sinking into Sukuna’s skull.

“Everything’s fine-” Sukuna insists.

“Suguru,” you call out at the same time, instantly going to him and finding your place by his side.

The word pathetic hammers in the back of your mind but you need deal with one problem at a time, and right now you don’t care about looking desperate if it means escaping the shackles of Ryomen Sukuna.

Suguru’s eyes don’t leave your ex-lover, but he inches closer towards you to assert his ground.

Sukuna frowns, the expression on his face all too familiar.

You clutch Suguru’s sleeve, “Nothing to fret over. Do you mind taking me home?”

He turns to face you, a mixture of worry with a flare of anger on that handsome face.

“Yeah, I’ll take you home.”

“Tsk,” Sukuna grumbles with frustration, “Don’t cheapen yourself by fucking off with some whore…”

A static shock trickles each point of the triangle where you all stand. The hair on the back of your neck stands upright, your attention moving to Suguru whose entire face darkens with a fury that you’ve never seen before. He steps forward, his helmet dropping to his hand like he’s ready to wield it as a weapon, and the target is the spot on Sukuna’s skull that he’s been carefully observing. Your vision goes white imagining the outcome of this blow out, and you can practically hear the crack of the impact if Suguru follows through.

Despite how much he deserved it, you know just how powerful Sukuna is.

He would ruin Suguru without any remorse.

“Suguru,” you beg, stepping forward and clutching onto his shirt as you reel him away from the man before you.

His nostrils flare, the intoxicating poison of wrath swirling in his irises which quickly diffuses upon finding you.

“Take me home?” You softly repeat, earnest and sincere, all the while erasing Sukuna from your presence entirely.

It only takes a few seconds for Suguru to register your request, but he complies by reaching for your hand and knotting his fingers between your own. He grips it protectively, eyes looking straight ahead as he leads you down the street and far away from the chaos behind you.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

The patter of your feet colliding onto the concrete surface echoes around you. A part of you is embarrassed, the other ashamed, a third grateful while a fourth shivers anxiously. You’re thankful that Suguru is at least allowing the silence to linger because it’s giving you a chance to settle from the roller coaster of emotions you just experienced. You try not to think about the pressure of his grip, or how the length of his fingers are wrapped securely around yours and instead piece together some semblance of an explanation worthy for him to listen to.

You eventually decide that you’ll just grab a cab back to your place. That you’ll thank Suguru for playing the role of rescuer, and hand off the cheque that you’ve been holding onto. You won’t be a burden, bother him any longer or a do anything else to force his empathy.

Suguru pauses in front of a jet black motorbike. The color itself blending into the darkness around you. You clear your throat ready to make your declaration, but you’re silenced when you feel the weight of his helmet press against your palms.

“Wear this,” he commands. “I’ll take you to my place.”

Your mouth goes slack, your practiced words shrinking to the back of your throat.

His place.

“Your place?” You find yourself whispering your thoughts out loud.

Suguru reaches for the handle of his bike, tapping his index finger against it, his back facing you. “If you want.”

He hops on before searching you for an answer. The look animates you back to reality and you nod your head before swiftly putting on the helmet. You find your place behind him, taking a second longer to adjust in your dress. You knot your arms around his waist, your eyes noting his exposed head.

“You don’t have a helmet.” You point out.

“I don’t live that far,” he answers back, “besides, I didn’t think I’d be traveling with precious cargo.”

He taps his palm over your clasped hands. “Hold tight for me, alright?”

You nod your head, covering your face with the shield visor before resting your cheek against his back.

Suguru takes off.

The wind whips against your bare arms, the pressure sweeping between your legs as Suguru swerves between each lane. The city blurs into vivid colors, only resurfacing when you come to an immediate halt at the traffic light. The adrenaline courses through your veins, the exhilarating sensation a thrill that you’ve never experienced before. Unfortunately, the journey was short lived and within twenty minutes you find yourself coming to a halt in an underground parking lot.

Suguru parks the bike, hopping off before reaching his hand out to assist you.

Your legs felt like jelly when it hits the surface, and you tumble on your own footing as Suguru reaches his other hand out to steady you by holding your waist.

“You okay? Was I going to fast?”

You take off the helmet, attempting to make yourself look somewhat presentable.

“No, no” you answer a little breathless, “that…that was actually kind of fun…”

“First time?”

You nod your head.

Suguru hums.

He takes the helmet away from you and directs you straight to the entrance of his apartment building. He pulls out an electronic key, and presses it against the elevator door. The elevator pings, the panels sliding open as you both step inside. Suguru clicks the button to his floor and you both stand on opposite sides watching the numbers go up.

Suguru lived in a newer development, you could tell when you walked through the hallway as he stands in front of his apartment door, and uses the same key to grant you both entrance.

As you enter the hallway, you’re greeted by a wall with mounted iron hooks. There’s five to be exact, each one holding a different helmet with one space empty. Suguru fits the helmet back onto the vacant spot, before glancing over his shoulder and finding you still by the door struggling to take off your heels.

He returns and kneels before you. His hands carefully moving your fingers away.

“Let me help with that”

“You don’t have to-” but you’re interrupted with him patting his thigh in gesture.

You bite your bottom lip and place one foot against him, careful not to dig your heel into him.

He delicately unravels the straps around your ankle and slips of the heel with a brush to the back of your calf, making the muscle twitch.

“Other foot,” he instructs, then repeats.

After placing your shoes neatly by the door, he stands up and reaches for your hand once more. “This way”

You take it warmly, and follow him while trying your best not to acknowledge the noticeable height difference with you two standing side by side.

You never paid much attention to it before, you didn't have too really considering you both spent most of your time together in parallel positions.

Suguru leads you into the living room, and a small gasp escapes you when you are met with floor to ceiling windows. The horizon is of the city skyline, but it’s half blocked by a decent size balcony which is covered in greenery. The scene contrasts the inside of Suguru’s apartment, which is more minimal. To your right is a small dining nook, the light above an accent piece that added some detail to the decor. To your left is a small furniture set, the sage green fabric making you avert your gaze with shame because your recognized that very same couch in most of Suguru’s videos.

You find yourself quickly staring at your feet.

“Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Tea?”

“Tea would be great,” you answer back, returning to look directly at him from underneath your lashes. “Do you have anything herbal?”

“Mhmm.”

You follow him into the kitchen and realize that the man keeps his place meticulously clean. The back counter is what catches your attention the most. Suguru has a full serviced at home barista station set up for his own convenience. You pick out the coffee grinder, espresso machine, assortment of tea pots, jars of fresh leaves and coffee bags all neatly organized.

Suguru pulls out one jar with a hand written label that reads "lemon balm and chamomile".

You slip off your purse and place it on the counter behind him. “Did you make all these yourself?”

“My parents used to run a tea shop in Hokkaido,” he answers back.

“A tea shop?” You squeak, a little too excited from the morsel of information about his personal life that he just bestowed. “That must have been lovely…”

“It was,” he answers, his voice growing small.

You watch him fill the kettle with water, before placing it on the electric stove to warm up. He opens the jar, closing the gap of space between you both and lifts it to your nose.

“Take a deep breath in,”

You oblige, and inhale.

“Oh my,” you sigh out loud, your fingers subconsciously clasping over his own as your eyes flutter from the aroma of citrus, ginger, flora and subtle spice. It calms every firing nerve in your body. “That smells wonderful”

When you open them again, you see that Suguru is looking at you thoughtfully.

“It tastes good too,” he says proudly, and your heart glows at the reaction. “I was a terrible night owl as a kid. Still am, I guess. My mom used to make this to help me go to sleep…”

“That’s really sweet,” you admit, wondering how lovely it must be to be looked after with such care.

He slips away again, taking a spoon and putting a generous amount of the blend into a ceramic tea pot. You hear the tea bubble lightly, but your head spins as Suguru cages you in place while you both wait for it to reach the right temperature. Your back is against the counter, his arms by your side.

“That guy you were talking to. Who was that?” He questions, cutting right to the chase.

“Nobody important,” you confess, “he’s an asshole.”

“Tell me about it.”

“I’m sorry about what he said to you. What he called you…”

Suguru’s fingers dig into the counter, making the muscles in his arms flex with irritation.

“Don’t apologize for him. Don’t apologize for any of them.” He firmly maintains. “Their words are empty to me...”

“You almost bashed his head in,” you point out, a tiny smile easing the tension binding around the man before you.

“I almost bashed his head because of the way he spoke to you-”

Your eyes widen.

Was he being protective? You think, but shake your head when you think of what kind of pitiful state you must have been that would cause Suguru to react in such a way.

Pathetic.

Your shoulders dwindle slightly and you shake it off to gather yourself once more.

“He was a terrible mistake. I was young, and stupid. I thought I knew better when I really had no fucking clue…”

You didn’t realize how bitter you sounded until two fingers press underneath your jaw.

His thumb taps your chin in a featherlight touch. “Is it over? Whatever it was?”

“Of course,” you answer, the truth acrid on your tongue. “I’m to marry Naoya Zen’in, remember?”

Suguru frowns. “He’s no better. I told you that myself.”

You circle your hand around his wrist. “I’ll take anyone over Sukuna. Even if that person is Naoya…”

“Why can’t you just choose?”

You press your lips together and sigh. “Because it’s a transaction. I’m a token in my father’s universe. If he weds me off to the Zen’in’s then it’s profitable. Good for business…”

“I’m sure if you speak with him, he’ll understand-”

“Don’t be so naive,” you answer as you return to meet his gaze. “My father doesn’t love me. He just owns me. I spent most of my adolescence alone while he was busy working or galavanting off with his mistress. I think he assumed that if he kept shoving money my way, I wouldn’t notice his absence…”

The kettle sings, making you both jump in place as the water bubbles aggressively and a small spiral of steam releases from the lip. Suguru returns to making your beverage. Picking up the kettle and pouring the hot water into the pot. He places it on a tray, along with a beautiful cup.

“The tea needs a couple of minutes to steep. In the meanwhile, I’m going to change into something more comfortable.” He announces, “You want some spare clothes?”

You look down at your designer frock, the material snug on your body.

“Yeah, I’d like that”

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. Suguru’s white shirt falls to your mid thigh, the material a little see through and revealing the bra you had on underneath. You eye the pair of worn boxers he handed to you to wear as shorts, but slyly tuck your bottom lip between your teeth before leaving it behind and walking out with your bare legs on display.

You’re not quite sure what the plan is here, but you don't see yourself leaving anytime soon.

You head back towards the kitchen where you pick up your purse, your dress folded between your hands carefully. Suguru is opening the door to the balcony, having changed into a cut sleeve shirt that exposes his arms and a hint of his ribs, as well as a pair of loose shorts. When he hears you enter, his attention instantly falls to your plush thighs, a hint of crimson blushing his cheek.

“Where can I keep my stuff?” You ask innocently, pretending to ignore his reaction.

“Anywhere is fine,” he answers back, his voice thick.

He tells you that he’ll wait for you outside, and in the meantime you put down your stuff onto the coffee table in front of his sofa.

You unzip your purse, Suguru’s cheque staring you at you with wide, scolding eyes.

Pathetic.

You furrow your brows at the voice inside your head, and swipe the payment before folding it and tucking it securely against your hip underneath the waistband of your underwear.

You head outside, sliding the window close behind you.

Suguru is sitting on a deck chair, the two of you camouflaged by the array of his overgrown plants. He pours your cup of tea, the aroma twirling between the current of the wind as he offers it your way. You pick it up, bringing it to your lips and taking a sip. A heavy sigh escapes you, and you remain standing leaning back against the cool glass surface as you stare out into the distance.

“Like it?” Suguru asks, and you only notice then that he has also brought out a second cup for himself and is pouring his own drink.

“It’s divine,” you respond.

“I’m glad”

The two of you sit in silence once more, mindlessly sipping your tea while contemplating the other person. You’re both at a clear standstill, carefully tiptoeing over the boundary that has so been strictly set in place.

A reminder of that is the folded cheque digging into your skin.

“How did you find out about contacting me?” Suguru randomly wonders.

You look towards him and he shrugs before adding on, “I never asked. I find myself curious.”

You thrum your nails against the glass cup, taking another sip of your tea before replying, “I saw you at a party with Satoru. I was with a group of friends, and one of them noticed me recognizing you. She asked if I was…familiar with your work. And when I told her I was she informed me that you both were…intimate.”

“Was it Mei?”

Your face falls at the blatant disregard of confidentiality.

“How-How did you know?”

Suguru huffs, and sips his tea.

“She’s the only other client I had close to our age. Wasn’t hard to make the connection…”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Go for it,” he replies.

“I’ve always been curious as to how you wound up doing what you do,” you bite your bottom lip nervously, your hands trembling slightly holding your glass and you hope that Suguru wouldn’t notice your sudden unease.

“Ah,” he acknowledges, his free hand moving to rub the back of his neck and you can’t help but sneak a peak at his abdomen from the side. “Well, I told you how I wound up making the videos. For a long time I just did solo work, but I knew I could make more money if I had on-screen partners to film with. I had a few good connections with some actresses and hired a friend to make a video with me…”

You knew exactly which one he was talking about.

The actress in question was well known, and the video was an amateur clip that was filmed on the very same couch that you walked passed earlier.

You clench your thighs together.

You don’t even want to admit how many times you came to that particular video.

“I didn’t know it would blow up in the way that it did. Shoko and I made a killing off it. We both saw the potential and we wound up doing six full episodes - trying out different techniques, roleplaying in a few…”

“But you stopped posting after that…”

Suguru pauses. “How would you know that?”

You swallow a big gulp of tea.

“I might have been a big fan of your work before we met.”

“Really?” He answers with a slight tilt of his head, clearly very amused.

“I wouldn’t have reached out to just anyone, you know. But I was really interested in...your work, and when I learned about your little side gig. I couldn’t resist…”

“Well, color me flattered, sweetheart.”

You swirl the last bits of tea in your cup.

“So, why did you stop posting?”

“I kept the videos up. They’re good and I still make revenue with every ad or view. Satoru’s career was picking up around that time, and he had just gotten clean. He needed somebody to hold him accountable so I started tagging along at his events. I didn’t realize how many people would recognizeme. My first client wasn’t even "a client", he gestures with air quotes, "she was just some woman I met and slept with. I woke up the next morning to an empty hotel room. All that she left behind was an envelope of cash…”

He pauses.

“I didn’t know what to feel. A part of me was insulted but another part had never seen that much money handed over so easily. The videos were great but what I earned in a day, is what I got in just a few hours. I was in my mid-twenties, just left the brink of making ends meet and desperate for security. I deposited the cash and kept going. Somehow it snowballed into…” he gestures his arms out, “this.”

He pours himself another cup of tea. “At first I was a little reckless. Took on too many clients it damn near gave me a health scare. So, I started spacing them out. Keeping to a set number a month and maintaining a high price. I didn’t think that so many people would actually pay for my services, but they do...and I'm comfortable.”

“Does it ever overwhelm you?”

“Not anymore. Keeping my partners to a minimum helps. I’m safe and get tested regularly, as I mentioned when we first met,” He lifts the teapot your direction to offer you a second cup, and you accept it by approaching him and allowing him to fill your glass.

“The thing is I went from never knowing when I was going to eat to having three meals a day. I don’t think I’d change that for the world…”

“What about your family? Your friends?” You find yourself mindlessly asking. "How do they feel about this?"

“Satoru and Shoko are the only ones who know. Everyone else thinks it’s porn that funds my life. As for my family,” Suguru stops, his voice scratchy as he quickly clears his throat. “Well, they don’t have to worry about it. My parents passed away when I was fifteen. It's just been me ever since”

The tea burns your lip and your body trembles at the statement.

“I’m so sorry…”

He shrugs his shoulder nonchalantly.

There’s a heaviness in the air, and despite how hard he’s trying to hide it you can see how the memory tears him apart.

“My mom passed away giving birth to me,” you find yourself disclosing to even the scale, “I think that’s probably why my father resents me so much. He never got a son, and lost his wife in the process”

“I’m sorry to hear that too…”

You mirror his shrug. “It’s weird. I find myself curious about her - but there’s a detachment when I look at her. Sometimes I think about how different my life might be if she was still around. Or, if she was just like my father and everything would still be the same…”

“Well, since we are speaking of hypotheticals,” Suguru moves on, shifting the topic as he angles his body more in your direction. “If you had the freedom to whatever you wanted, what would you do?”

“Me?” You gasp, shocked by his pointed question.

He smiles an easy smile, “I don’t see anybody else around.”

You hum thoughtfully. “This might take a minute…”

He places his cup of tea on the tray by his side and then pats his free hand on his thigh.

“C’mere and think.”

Your heart flies up your throat, pulsing just at the base. “You want me to sit on your lap?”

Suguru nods his head.

You gulp down the vessel, returning it back to its place. You glide your way towards him, placing the tea cup just next to his own, before settling down onto his lap.

Suguru wraps his arm around your waist, securing you close into his frame.

“Do you hold your other clients like this?”

He shakes his head no.

“So, you like holding me…” you bluntly point out, “why’s that?”

Suguru’s face is directly in front of yours, so beautiful you can almost faint right here in his arms. He fingers dig into your waist, his other arm curving over your thigh and gently drawing circles on your hip.

“Because you fit nicely against me”

A swarm of butterflies take flight, making you feel lighter than air. You swear he might kiss you then but instead he returns to his question. “So, tell me what would you do?”

The answer comes to you far easier than you think. From the moment you saw him tonight, you know the truth in the depths of your heart. “I’d like to run away with you,” you confess before stuttering out, “or-or at least somebody like you. Someone who is kind and sweet and thoughtful...”

Suguru leans back against the chair, lifting up one leg and adjusting your positions. He’s careful not to kick the tray with the tea.

“And where would we go?”

You sling your arms around his neck, “anywhere - anywhere but here.”

Suguru slides his palm over the slop of your rear, slipping it underneath the fabric of his shirt and tracing a line over the dimples on your lower back.

“What would we do?”

“We could lay outside just like this and watch the stars.”

He hums, “we don’t get any stars out here in the city...”

“No, we don’t.”

“What else would we do?”

His other hand starts to unbutton the front of your shirt, revealing the details of the lace underneath. He cups your right breast, his lips shifting to find your neck.

“We’d do this too,” you sing merrily.

“Look at stars and fuck our brains out?” He teases, his teeth nipping at your skin. “Sounds like a dream to me…”

He gropes the fat of your breast, unknotting every single secret. “what else?”

“We’ll sleep all day, and kiss until we’re bored of one another…”

The hand on your breast moves to circle your neck, Suguru’s thumb massaging the column.

“I’d never grow bored kissing you-”

Your body renders against his touch. “Suguru,” you moan, your lips seeking his own.

Before you can even meet for the kiss, he mumbles your name and follows up with the claim: “you should run away with me.”

You giggle, still living in the proposed fantasy. “I’m trying to…”

“I’m being serious”

The tone of his voice is the reason why you stop to kiss him, pulling away to face the man before you.

There's no denying the truth on his face - he is actually quite serious about the declaration.

You hear the dreaded word once more: pathetic. Pathetic because this man is an expert at fulfilling fantasies, is a professional when it comes to healing the hearts of the lonely.

Pulling yourself out of this delusional imagination, you push off him before standing up straight.

“That’s not funny, Suguru”

“Who says I’m being funny?” He responds sincerely.

“What is this? What are we doing? What am I doing? You can’t just-” you lament, pressing your forehead to hand in disbelief as you enter the confines of his apartment, taking a second to breathe. “You can’t just say things like that-”

He calls out your name again, but the kraken has already been released.

He follows, tracking into his abode right behind you, all the while watching you stand in the middle of his living room with your quivering hands reaching for the waistband of your underwear.

“This was a terrible idea. I shouldn’t have-I shouldn’t have gone through with all of this,” you yank out the cheque, showing it to him. “You don’t have to take pity on me. I know I’m just another desperate, pathetic client, alright? I promise you don't have to keep putting up with me and my drama after this. And you sure as hell don't have to keep giving me these mixed messages which only confuse me. I can’t have things getting complicated right before this engagement is about to happen. So, here. Take this cheque and let’s just forget everything else about tonight.”

Suguru stands there, pensive. His eyes look to the folded paper in your hand, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. Instead of reaching for the paper, he simply walks past you, making you spin on your heel as you follow his movements with sheer bewilderment.

He heads towards the shelf behind you and pulls out a tiny box. He removes something from it, before walking back and facing you once more.

“Shit got complicated about eight cheques ago, sweetheart,” he negates, holding the thin stack papers between his two fingers as he brings it to your face. His eyes fall to to the crumpled one you are currently holding, “Well, counting the one in your hand, I’d say nine...”

You can’t believe it.

You pick up the wad and sift through each paper; each cheque one of yours, the date issued a reflection of your last nine meetings with Suguru.

None of them cashed in.

“Why do you still have these?”

Two hands find your waist, your forearms fall into Suguru’s chest as you stare mindlessly at the cheques fanned out between your fingers.

“I didn’t have it on my conscious to deposit them once I realized my feelings for you. I'm sorry about what you heard earlier, but what Mahito said doesn't apply to you at all,” he responds. “You stopped being a client to me for quite some time...”

You look up at him.

His touch tightens around your waist. “You can’t marry Naoya. Or, you shouldn’t. But if you do, I don’t want us to stop seeing one another. We can work something out…”

“Suguru,” you pine, dropping the papers in your hand, each one twirling onto the ground, thousands at your feet.

His lips catch yours in a subtle peck, all before circling over your bottom lip and sucking on the plush base. He slides his tongue between your lips, feeling yourcrumple into him as the paper crinkles beneath your feet. You moan feeling the sensation of his tongue slide across yours - he tastes like running across a field of chamomile flowers, like you’re holding a basket of fresh, ripe lemons.

Like you're savoring the most beautiful sunrise.

His hands return to finish unbuttoning your shirt, shrugging the material off your shoulders and exposing your expensive lingerie set. He grips your hips, your ass - his touch hungry before pressing his pelvis closer to your frame so you can feel his aching member beneath his shorts.

You squeak into another kiss when he swiftly picks you up from the back of your thighs and carries you across the living room.

He places you onto his sofa like you’re made of porcelain, keeping you on the edge as he kneels to the ground, his knees sinking into the rug. Two hands find your inner thighs which he pushes apart to reveal the pretty triangle fabric covering your sweet cunt. He kisses your clit over the material. Once, twice, three times…until you’re sighing into the pillow behind you. His tongue drags up, pressing your clothing against your sex, one hand drawing upward to find yours which he holds lovingly. His index and middle finger hook underneath your underwear, and he tugs it aside to reveal your slick coated pussy.

He kisses your clit again, leaving a path down your damp lips which only makes you moan angelically.

“This is why I’d never get bored kissing you,” he coos, “You sound like heaven whenever I do...”

Your only response is a vowel, your hand holding onto Suguru’s for dear life as he returns to eat out with such devotion it almost brings tears to your eyes. You pant softly, his wet tongue making you weep between your legs and he gathers your essence and swallows it to parch his craving. You whine feeling the snap of your underwear pinch into your skin when Suguru lets go of the material to mold his palm over the slope of your pelvis. His thumb strokes the back of your hand, his tongue sinking between your wet folds, lips suckling on the petals of your cunt.

Your hips arch off the sofa, desperate for friction, but Suguru pins you firmly back down.

“Easy, easy…” he appeases, “don’t cum just yet. Hold off f’me, just for a little bit…”

He’s never asked because there was never a reason to. For the most part, he was always there to service you. Allowed you to use his body to get you off as many times as you so desired.

Your voice breaks, “okay,” you answer, drawing out a long exhale when he dives back in.

The hand on your pelvis climbs up the steps of your ribs, reaching for band of your bra right at the middle. He curls his finger over the boning, and tugs the material allowing your breasts to spill free. He finds the bud of your nipple and tweaks it between his finger, pinching and pulling the aching nub until your writhing beneath him.

He slurps and sucks, while you moan and whimper, forcing yourself to hold off for as much as your can but you find that it’s far harder to do when your lower belly quakes as it sits on the brink of release.

“Suguru, Suguru…” you beg, reaching your free hand to your breast and clenching over his fingers. “Suguru, I can’t-m’gonna cum if you don’t stop…”

He groans against your cunt, pulling away from your pulsing core and letting go of your hand to wipe the dampness off his chin.

He licks his lips, drunk off lust and of how you taste.

He keeps his body upright, drags your legs to secure them around his waist as he straightens your back. His hands unhook your bra from behind, the scent of you strong on his lips as he leans up for a kiss. Your hands fall to his shoulders, your belly fluttering as your sex begs for more stimulation.

Suguru loosens the bra, allowing it to fall to your elbows before kneading your breasts - his thumb swipes back and forth over your nipples. He devours your cry, wolfs down every panting breath as he moans into the kiss. Your hands slip underneath his shirt, taking in the lines of strong abdomen.

“Take if off,” you plead between breaths, “Take it off, please…”

Suguru listens, breaking apart from the kiss to toss his shirt to the side while you slip off your bra. Your lover’s hand finds your waist, his fingers pinching into the soft flesh. He leans forward to kiss the side of your neck, making a path down the curve and across the field of your décolletage.

“You’re gorgeous,” he murmurs into your breast, his lips snagging your nipple as his tongue rolls over the bud.

Your fingers curl around the back of his head, loosening his bun as you untie the knot. His hair falls like waterfall, the strands tickling your bare skin. Suguru’s hand slips between your legs, his middle and forefinger meeting your clit. You hiss at the contact, sinking your teeth between your bottom lip when Suguru sucks on your breast while simultaneously drawing circles on the bundle of nerves between your legs.

Your breath grows heavier, your hips bucking into him from the sensation of his touch.

“Feels good,” you mumble, “feels so good with you…”

He shivers, relieving your breast as his lips search for your own.

He adds more pressure between your legs, increasing the speed while your tongues dance. When your thighs noticeably quiver he slows down, pinching your clit between his fingers as he softly pecks your cheek.

“The condoms are in my room…”

Your sharp nails scratch the back of his neck lightly, “I have one in my purse.”

Suguru nods feverishly, reaching back to the coffee table and rummaging through your purse. He picks out the shiny wrapper, and stands up to take off his shorts.

“Wait, can I?” You request, gazing up at him with glittering eyes.

Suguru swallows hard, and nods his head.

Your eyes dilate rolling his shorts down, focusing on the tent in the fabric and watching his cock spring free and lightly smack his lower belly. Suguru brings the condom to his lips and rips it open with his teeth, but his eyes flutter when your perfectly manicured hands glide up the length of his shaft.

You trace the prominent vein, your thumb swiping over the pre-cum beading over the angry tip. You lick your lips, leaning closer to kiss the base and listening to Suguru sigh.

You’ve only given him a blow job once before, and that was because you asked if you could. Suguru sets no expectations for himself when it comes to work, but that doesn’t mean that you haven’t fantasized about giving him head countless times.

You wrap your fingers around his length and stroke mildly, your lips fanning over his cock before reaching the tip.

“Sweetheart, don’t-” Suguru murmurs in an attempt to stop you, but you’re already enclosing your lips around the head and pressing your tongue over the slit.

His head falls back as you suck, a curse leaving him.

You move slowly at first, dragging your tongue back and forth as you stroke the base. Sukuna was far rougher with you when you went down on him, but Suguru is allowing you to take him at your own pace. Inch by inch, until you were bobbing your head back and forth, strings of saliva webbing off his cock and sticking your lips.

He thrusts once, not rough enough to hurt but the jerk catches you by surprise.

You carefully release him, mindlessly wiping your bottom lip and the sight makes his cock twitch.

Suguru pulls the condom out, and rolls it over his shaft.

He settles onto the empty seta by your side, and you crawl over the expanse of his gorgeous, chiseled body to kiss him once again.

His circles his fingers around his cock, his other hand guiding your hip as he aligns the tip to your entrance. Your nail nicks his pec when he pushes against the hole, your mouth circling over his own as you lower down his shaft.

He fills you up so, so good. Makes your body vibrate with unshakeable desire.

He groans until he bottoms out , the hand on your hip dipping down from your pubis to your lower belly like he’s trying to outline how deep he actually is before returning it back in place and securing his other hand on the opposite hip.

Your breasts flatten against his chest, your hands holding on to his strong shoulders for support as you roll our hips.

Suguru works in tandem with your rhythm to fuck you passionately.

His lips find yours once again for a final kiss, before the two of you get caught up in the moment when he swiftly picks up the pace.

His hips arch violently, while yours sink - your bodies moving silk.

“Unghh, oh god, yes-yes-yes~” you moan.

Suguru’s grip almost feels painful, you know for a fact that he’ll be marking your hips with a few bruises. “Gonna cum-” he rasps, “s-shit, I’m fucking close-fucking close-”

Your pussy tightens, practically holds his dick in a death grip that makes release a broken moan. His cock contracts upon his release, the sensation bringing you to the edge of yours as the muscles in your lower belly and inner thighs spasm around him. You leave crescents on his skin, your bodies shaking as you both take a second to breathe coming down from your climax.

You collapse into him, his arms circling behind you, with his racing heart pulsing into your own. He moves so you’re laying side by side, your body sandwiched between him and the couch since he takes up most of the room. You rest your cheek against his shoulder, feeling him grow soft inside you.

Your stuttering breath finally finds a resting poin when he brings your hand and holds it against his heart.

“Where do we go from here?” You whisper with a kiss to his neck.

“Whatever you decide, we’ll figure out.” Suguru answers sincerely.

“I can’t marry Naoya,” you admit out loud, shocked for actually saying it for the very first time. “And I can't share you with anyone else - it already kills me having to do so.”

Suguru looks down at you, a reassuring smile resting on his lips. “There won’t be anyone else.”

“I can't just...leave. I can't just drop everything and walking away. It isn’t going to be easy-” you add on, “It’ll take me some time.”

“I can wait”

“It might get messy…”

“When is it ever not?”

“But we’ve never been in a relationship-” you insist, logic breaking through the barrier of your happiness. “How do we know if this will even work out properly? What if this thing between us fades?”

“I guess we’re both taking a gamble here…”

You both stare into the other’s eyes.

“Do you think it’s worth the risk?” You ask.

Suguru’s face softens but he leans forward to kiss your forehead.

“I think it’s worth a try.”

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

TWO YEARS LATER

“You running out on Naoya on your wedding night is still the hot topic.” Kento explains over the phone, “People kept bringing it up, and for whatever reason they just can't seem to get over it.”

The guilt in your stomach twists into a very small knot, over time the size of it has shrunk to a point where you not longer carry any remorse regarding your scheming behavior.

You had a plan, and the plan worked.

"Let's not forget who was there to help..." you contend, disregarding the negativity surrounding your decision.

After you and Suguru spoke, you decided to carry on the facade, agreeing to the engagement and soon after the wedding with Naoya Zen'in. All the while you and Suguru were busy planning your way to cut and run. He cashed in your unsigned checks, and you pilfered a decent amount of the wedding budget which you kept into a seperate savings account.

You played the role as obedient daughter well, and no one was the wiser.

“Besides, I maintain that it's still the best decision I ever made,” you reply, stepping out of your room and into the kitchen where you are greeted by the sound of clinking dishes.

Your eyes shift to Suguru - his hair far longer now, flowing beautifully down his back, the front layers tied into a small bun. You smell dinner in the air, and your stomach grumbles with anticipation.

Nanami doesn't reply, but you can hear that he's distracted from the television in the background.

“What are you watching?” you ask your friend.

The man simply sighs.

“Nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing with that reaction. Is it Satoru’s new drama show?”

At the mention of his best friend you notice your lover glance over his shoulder, quietly tilting his head to direct you towards him. You smile his way, your feet pattering against the hardwood floor as you move closer to him. He bundles one arm around your shoulder, keeping you close while continuing to sauté the vegetables in the pan.

He kisses the top of your head.

“It’s all the rage,” you add on to your phone call, “Suguru and I plan on watching the next episode tonight.”

Kento remains quiet.

You release yourself from Suguru’s grasp, and instead hop onto the kitchen counter right next to him.

He reduces the heat and picks up the lid before covering the pan.

“I’m guessing you two haven’t-”

“No,” Kento curtly replies. “Not since that night…”

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be,” he responds with frustration. “I screwed it up”

“You know I could just ask Sugu too reach out-”

“ Don’t,” Kento sighs regrettably. “It doesn’t matter. I heard he’s moved on”

You quirk your brow, your eyes shifting to Suguru who was back to chopping some fresh herbs.

“Oh?”

“It’s for the best I guess,” Kento reassures. “He should be happy with whoever-the-fuck he chooses.”

“You deserve happiness too, Kento.”

“You can be happy for the both of us,” he replies, gulping down a drink. “Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’m meeting my lawyer for dinner.”

“When are you going to visit us next?”

“Probably around November, December. I just need a few things to ease up on my end-”

You bite your bottom lip, “I look forward to it.”

“Take care, love”

“You too, Ken.”

You hang up the phone and lean your head against the cupboard as you watch Suguru rinse his hand, a trail of crimson spiraling down the faucet.

“I cut my finger”

You pick up a clean towel by your side, and gesture him towards you.

Suguru extends his thumb out, and you curl the fabric over to keep pressure on the small cut.

“You ought to be careful”

“Your legs are a distraction,”

You stare up at him playfully, and he leans down to kiss the corner of your lips.

“How’s Nanami?”

Your lover is indebted to your friend. If it wasn’t for Nanami, the two of you wouldn’t have been able to set up this comfortably. He’s the one who found you the humble two-story abode in Hokkaido, and was also the person who set up your personal bank accounts while ensuring that you would both have a safe and quick getaway on the night of your almost-wedding.

“Fine, I think-” you reply, before removing the towel to check the damage. Thankfully, it wasn't anything serious. A little deeper than a paper cut.“Licking his wounds over a broken heart, but fine.”

Suguru reaches for the drawer next to you, and pulls out the emergency band aids. You reach for the box in his hand, taking out one and removing the plaster from the back. You secure it around his cut, and Suguru holds your fingers between his.

He arches down to kiss your brow. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome, handsome”

“Dinner will be ready in a few if you want to set the table”

You nod your head in acknowledgement, and drop down onto the ground before proceeding with your task.

You set the place mats down, a bowl for the soup and another for the rice and cooked vegetables. Your finger traces the rim of the one in front of your seat, a tiny chip from when you accidentally dropped it in the sink while cleaning it a few weeks ago.

Fragments of these blemishes are all around you - making you almost forget that you once lived in a perfect, curated bubble. But you would take these flaws over everything else. These markings may be worn, but they are a reminder of the home you've been building.

A home that is entirely yours.

“Baby, you want a drink?” Suguru calls from the kitchen.

“Melon soda, please” you reply, placing the bowl down.

“We’re out, I’ve got to pick some up tomorrow.”

“What are you having?”

“A beer,” he chuckles, and it sends a tremor of joy between the valves of your heart.

“I’ll share yours”

Suguru pulls out the bottle, cracking the cap off as he pops it using the side of the kitchen counter to do so.

You two meet each other halfway in the space that you've been nesting in. Suguru’s eyes never leave yours when he takes the first sip, and once done he passes the chilled bottle towards you.

“Am I ever going to have you back in the kitchen helping me with dinner?”

You shake your head no, and bite at the lip of the bottle before taking a sip. “I thought we agreed I was a hazard after the raw chicken fiasco and the almost-fire debacle…”

He laughs, “no, you agreed. I said it wasn’t a big deal”

“You just said that because you love me,” you respond, pressing the bottle into his chest as he takes it from your hand.

“That goes without saying…” he answers, slinging his arm around your waist and pulling you into his frame.

You lift yourself up on your toes, and kiss his nose.

“Do you think it’s worth the risk of me attempting to cook for you again?” You whisper against his lips.

Suguru smiles, a hand cupping your cheek as he leans forward to seal his reply with a kiss.

“I think it’s worth the try”

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

tag list: @rottiens @an-ever-angry-bi @mononijikayu @brownskinnedgirll

#geto x reader #geto x you #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #geto x y/n #geto angst #geto smut #geto fluff #suguru geto angst #suguru geto fluff #suguru geto smut #jujutsu kaisen fan fiction #suguru geto fan fiction #suguru geto fanfic

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honeylullaby · 2 months ago

Note

My dirtiest thoughts I present to thee my dearest:

Declan in full munch mode making direct eye contact whilst licking his moustache and diving back in!

Look at me no longer anonymous and a complete pig! I can only apologise…

💕💕💕

GORGEOUS idea my darling 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽 declan o’hara is the biggest, most generous munch, pass it on x

“How does it feel, my girl?”

(Rivals) Declan O’Hara x Reader

Suggestion by one’s own heart 🩷 / Declan shows you how much he appreciates you…

18+ FANFIC / SMUT from the offset & gorgeously angsty. Shortish I suppose? Reader character aged at 21. As always, request what you wanna see in my ask box 💋

Lately, life had been hard. Work was growing increasingly tense and arduous. Declan had been putting so much labour into Venturer that he had barely had time to look at you, let alone touch you. However, you were sat at your dinner table, amethyst pleated skirt falling softly at your knees, and sipping from a mug of sweet hot chocolate, laden with marshmallows. “Evenin’, babe.” The Irishman huffed, making his way into the dining room and throwing his briefcase by his feet. “Hello.” You sulk, briefly checking the time on your wrist watch. 7pm — an early finish by Declan’s standards.

“Please don’t. I’m not in the fuckin’ mood tonight.” He groans, massaging his brutish fingers into his eyes and pushing out an exasperated sigh. “You’re not in the mood? I’ve barely seen you this week, I’m starting to think you and Rupert have some secret affair going on.” You roar, slamming both hands against the darkened oak of your dining table. Declan laughed sardonically and pointed a finger at you before he spoke. “Who do you t’ink is payin’ the bills for this place? Because it’s not you, sittin’ around drinkin’ fuckin’ hot chocolate all day.” And the words sound bitter and vulgar leaving his mouth — an amalgamation of sarcasm and utter poison.

Shaking your head in disbelief and not dignifying him with a response, you keep azure eyes affixed on him as he walks towards you, lowering himself to his knees. “What are you doing?” You ask, as he lifts your pleated skirt away from your knees and balls it up at your hips. “No pants?” He questions with a smirk, and you begin to shuffle your pelvis forward, you allow him access to your wet spot. “I’m sorry for not bein’ around. I wanna show ya’ how much ya’ mean to me.” And with that, his pointed tongue was lapping at your clit, first drawing tender circles across your pink bud and paying close attention to your breathless moans.

When he was sufficiently pleased that you were worked up enough, he delved his tongue deeper, working fervently at your swollen clit and making you whimper in ecstasy. Declan kept his chocolate orbs fixed on yours — the unwavering eye contact providing you with additional pleasure. He pulled away from your cunt momentarily and ran his fatigued tongue across his mahogany ‘tash, savouring every sweet droplet of your wetness from the bristles. The provocative sight made your thighs tense, clit pulsating in lust for the Irishman. “How does it feel, my girl?” He asked in a guttural, coarse tone. “So fucking good.” You pant, and he wastes no time in diving back in, taking your clit between his lips and sucking softly, making you sob with sensitivity and keep a hand firmly clasped to the back of his head.

The feral way in which he flicked at your cunt drove you ever closer to orgasm, rhythmic lashings of his hot tongue driving untamed bucking from your hips. “Fuck, Declan, I’m gonna cum.” You spit out, clenching fistfuls of his brunette hair. Your lustful moans accelerated, and you came into your lover’s mouth, deafening moans accompanying it. Declan slowly pulled away, a string of wetness attaching itself to his moustache that he promptly cleaned up with the tip of his tongue. “I love the taste of your cum.” He muttered in a hushed tone, and you feverishly grin back, still pulsating from your orgasm.

#rivals #rivals disney #rivals fanfic #rivals fanfiction #declan i fancy u <3 #declan o’hara x reader #declan o’hara #declan o hara #aidan turner #requests <3 #my own dreadful writing #dear heart anon

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acotarxreader · 8 months ago

Text

BatBite

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: Azriel relies on liquid courage to finally act on his feelings for you but the next day, only one of you remembers and its the one marked with lovebites

Warnings: Fluff, kissing, biting hehe

A/N: Gentle fluff, gearing up to write smut again. Let me know what you think of this one and if you have any requests those are open too!

More Irish flare in this, with fadas removed for your own ease of pronunciation but Greim is a word for Bite and Brú for Crush. I kinda like the idea of using Irish words for non-canon passing by characters hehe.

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“Az, you’re going to take my arm out of my socket!” you laughed loudly over the growing crowd of the annual House of Wind Starfall party. Azriel pulled you up the staircase towards your room, using his wings to offset his drunken imbalance. The party was growing in chaos and as much fun as dancing until you dropped was, watching a tipsy Azriel navigate his environment was more fun. That along with ensuring he didn’t try to drink and fly led you to here, inside your bedroom as he slipped off his jacket and took another drink from a flask.

“Are you okay Az?” you chuckled while watching the Spymaster struggle out of his sleeves.

“Shh shhhh Shhh-hh-hhh” English escaped the drunken Illyrian. You took slight release in his lack of composure as often when he had it you both would have pointless arguments despite your deep-rooted enjoyment of one another's company.

He slid slightly in his shoeless state while approaching you, gaining more laughter from you. Azriel stretched a hand outwards to you and you took hold of him, thinking it was so he could regain balance. Azriel pulled you into him, your chests bouncing back off one another at the speed. You felt your breath hitch at the sudden close and intimate proximity between you both.

“Umm Az-” your small laugh was cut off as Azriel ran his whole palm down your face, almost pawing you before he coordinated himself enough to isolate a single finger against your lips.

“Shh shhh Y-N shhh” You couldn't stop the laughter escaping you only to have it almost immediately silenced with the sudden taste of whiskey meeting your lips. Azriel wrapped his hands around your neck, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss you had both wanted for centuries. He moved you back without separating from you until your back hit the bedroom door, your head gently knocking off the oak.

“Wait Az, a moment ago we were fighting, practically at one another's throats-” a smirk grew on Azriels face at your words before he tilted your head back again and attached himself to your neck with agonisingly sweet pressure, a small whimper leaving you at the sudden addictive sensation. You felt your skin be taken between his lips before Azriel bit down sweetly, quickly turning to harshly, your head responding by angling further to give him more access. Azriels warm, scarred hands reached the bottom of your silk slip dress before traipsing up your legs to your sides beneath the fabric. You fought against the moans rising in your throat as he marked you hungrily.

“Wait Az, you are so so drunk right now” Your hands ran down his arms, pushing him gently allowing you to slip from his grip. Azriel gently swayed side to side without your body to support his weight.

“YN, I ha-ve wanted this for foooreever, I jus-t needed some liq-uid courage to finally be br-ave enough to ac-t on it, is that sooooo baaad?” The slur of words with the scent of the caramel brown liquor reminded you just how drunk he was as you pushed away your own burning desire. The sound of shattering glass had your head snapping to the door again, the party growing out of control. You kissed Azriels cheek gently before dipping back into the hallway.

Azriel stood in your empty bedroom on his shaky legs, he slowly retreated backwards until the backs of his legs hit the bed, sending him flying back onto the silk, wings splayed out, deep inebriated sleep taking hold.

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“Oh Gods! Please someone turn down the sun!” Azriel groaned as you whipped the curtains open with a wave of your hand, the Spring day leaking light in. Azriel pulled the silk sheets you had covered him with back over his face trying to heal his retinas back to health.

“Morning Starshine” you half sang, sitting under the sheets in the bed alongside him, a cup of tea in hand. Azriel groaned, lowering the sheets below eye level to look up at you through his lashes. He quickly whipped the sheets up to look down at his fully clothed body.

“Don’t worry Az, nothing happened. I helped with the cleanup when people finally left and I just wanted to sleep in my bed, apparently, you had the same idea” you grinned at your near-death hungover friend.

“So do you remember anything at all from last night Az?”

“I remember whiskey ehhh bourbon ehh at one point I think me and Cass ate a whole sheet of cake ehhh oh! Cass then vomited said cake all over my shoes which explains where they've gone and then ehhh more whiskey” he rubbed his eyes again trying to pull more memories to his mind and failing. Azriel shimmied up the bed to lean into your side before taking your cup of tea from your hands, gaining an eye roll from you.

“Just the important stuff so” You smiled down at him before throwing your legs over the side of your bed, Azriel slumping into the space you left. You moved across your room, disappearing behind your changing screen momentarily and returning in your training gear.

“Don’t make me look bad YN, take a day off” Azriel beamed at you, trying to push the thoughts of you changing mere metres from him from his mind.

“I got a lot to think through, punching things helps me” you laughed, pulling your white ribbon from your vanity and braiding the fabric into your hair.

“Woah YN! Someone used you as their dinner last night” Azriel laughed while gesturing to the obvious marbling covering your neck, your cheeks soon matching their maroon in embarrassment. Azriel raised an eyebrow at the sudden uncomfortable mood shift, you too often talked and fought about your conquests together, the bashfulness about the situation was new. You began to untangle the braid, covering the marks again, tying the ribbon around your waist, Azriels eyes glued to the movement.

“I gotta go warm up”

“Ah come on YN, kiss and tell! I won’t tell anyone”

“You know I don’t believe you”

“Well, that's because Cass isn't just anyone to me” he laughed, raising his body from the bed to close the gap between you.

“Do I know them?”

“Az” you laughed, pushing him back, his hands going up in peace.

“If I guess, will you tell me?” you shook your head to him as he groaned, running the end of the ribbon on your waist through his fingers. You watched the movement, maybe you wanted to tell him? Or maybe you wanted him to remember on his own accord.

“Fine Az, you get three guesses and I get off doing sprints for a month” he hummed in thought at this before agreeing. His mind went through the faces of last night, hundreds of Fae crossed his mind all of which would enrage him if you were to allow them to kiss you like that. He felt a bit of rage bubble underneath his skin as he thought of someone else's hands all over you.

“Az, I have to get downstairs” your humoured voice interrupted his thoughts, forcing him to push back the jealousy he felt.

“Hmm Cass? Wait, not him. He and Nesta have been gearing up lately and I think she’d skin you alive-” you raised your eyebrow to him “-but you’d win the fight” you rolled your eyes at his quick save, slipping the ribbon from his fingers and moving to sit and slip on your boots. Azriel wandered around the room, tapping his finger on his lips while thinking. You thought of those lips all over you last night, struggling to keep hold of the moan you wanted to release at the thought.

“Was it Greim from Ritas?” you shook your head, tying your boots up on the edge of your bed.

“Was it Bru from Feyre’s gallery”, you shook your head again.

“Ehhh oh YN no no no please-” he dropped to his knees theatrically, taking his hands in yours “-Please please YN YLN, don’t say it was Eris, I saw you two speaking earlier in the night” You found yourself laughing at the outlandish idea but his slightly desperate eyes had you reassuring him by shaking your head. Azriel launched himself from the ground to push you flush into the bed as he supported his weight with an arm above your head, you both laughing as he spoke.

“Oh Gods just tell me”

“Fine Az, you did this”

“Me? I don’t remem-” The smile slowly fell from your face at Azriels words as his grin disappeared, and his eyes widened as he collapsed beside you and stared at the ceiling. The flashbacks came back to him like lightning across his eyes.

“I am so so sorry for putting you in that position YN”

“Don’t be sorry” You rolled to your side to face him, Azriel doing the same, the comfortable silence returning between you both.

“I can’t believe I went through with it” You raised your eyebrow at his quiet confession as he closed his eyes, ready to release his secret.

“Well you see- Gods this is so embarrassing - I wanted to kiss you for…a very long time now and Cass was sick of me whining about it and he convinced me to act on my feelings finally but I just couldn’t act on them especially when I saw you in your dress - wow I mean seriously….anyways sorry I just thought I’d find my courage at the bottom of a whiskey jug…and a sheet cake and apparently I did” he reopened his eyes at your silence to find you smirking hard at him. He rolled back onto his back with a groan of embarrassment.

“You need whiskey to kiss me?” you sat up from the bed and for a moment Azriel thought he had fully spooked you. He watched you lean across him to your bedside table, removing a small pocket-sized bottle of whiskey from the drawer, tossing it to him playfully as he laughed with you. You lay down again next to him, tucking your hands under your cheek to face him on your side.

“Do-do you regret doing it now that you remember?

“I only regret our first kiss was one I remember in a blur” You took a brief moment with his words before smirking, pushing up off the bed and throwing a leg over his lap to straddle him. Azriels hand reached up to tuck your hair behind your ear before you lowered to meet his lips. Warmth filled you both with the feeling of gentleness and care filling you both, Azriels hands were placed lovingly on either side of your head. A soft hand traced the marks he had left on your neck.

“Now, that was our first kiss Az”

“Our first kiss”

“I can’t believe you thought I would kiss Eris” You sat up on his lap, hitting him gently in the chest.

“Pass me the whiskey, I need to erase the thought from my mind” he chuckled, sitting up with you, hands around your waist to prevent you from falling back. He moved to kiss your neck again only to have you stop him.

“My turn” your wicked smirk matched his as you connected to your neck, the hangover long melted away

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Tag list @lilah-asteria

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acourtofwhatthefuck · 11 months ago

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Practice On Me | Series Index

graphic made for me by the gorgeous @writingsbychlo 💕

Summary: Set in Illyria when the Bat Boys are mere twenty-year-olds, Azriel has never explored intimacy and sex like his closest friends have. Reader is more than willing to help — not realising it will offset a series of events that will change life as they know it.

Series warnings: This series is strictly 18+, minors dni. There’s smut, violence, gore, trauma. Read with caution and take care 🫶🏻

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Part Eleven

Part Twelve

Part Thirteen

Part Fourteen

Part Fifteen

Part Sixteen (Finale)

Bonus Part (Fin x Reader)

The Practice On Me Playlist

Songs I had on repeat while writing this series, for anyone who’s interested!

Sit Down Beside Me by Patrick Watson

From The Start by Laufey

New Girl by FINNEAS

We Go Down Together by Dove Cameron & Khalid

February 3rd by Jorja Smith

She by Harry Styles

Angry Too by Lola Blanc

Afterthought by Joji & BENEE

Faded by Alan Walker

The Summoning by Sleep Token

Therefore I Am by Billie Eilish

Play With Fire by Sam Tinnesz & Yacht Money

Samurai Swords - Acoustic Version by Highasakite

My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski

THE LONELIEST by Måneskin

King by Florence + The Machine

The Practice On Me Face Claims

A look at how I imagined our younger ACOTAR characters looked through this series (and my original characters)!

Azriel:

Rhysand:

Cassian:

Kaeda:

Mor:

Roza:

Fin:

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summerpearlgirl · 2 months ago

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Polin Fic Recs - One Tree 🌳 & Sex Pollen 🐝🌼

Pen wants to climb Colin like a tree. However, in these fics, Colin is the one doing the tree climbing to reach Pen's bedroom. Much like the One Bed fics, we all know where this is going.

I may have gone on a sex pollen (#sex polin?) tangent when making this list 🐝🌼. The pun is right there! Gold stars to all the Polin fic writers who go hard with the puns 🌟

1. My Heart Is Thrilled By The Still Of Your Hand by ShirlyGallagher

Explicit. Regency. Complete. 6,722 words. Under 1 hour read. Classic Book!Colin climbs the tree fic with a steamy late night rendezvous in Pen's bedroom for the engaged couple.

2. Foolish One by LeighAnne_Balsdon

Mature. Regency. Complete. 43,498 words. Set in S1. This fic has got a runaway Pen and Colin & Eloise Bridgerton as the search party. Thank goodness Eloise is along for the ride because this is full force Chaos Colin. Slow burn with eventual tree climbing smut.

3. Dishonest Conquest by lilyeval

Explicit. Regency. Complete. 21,960 words. Set S3. Flirting coach Colin Bridgerton gets very jealous of his excellent student Pen's suitors. The flirting train is off the rails. Pen has no filter and may be more oblivious than Colin for once. Colin has climbed into her bedroom at night and she still thinks this is a friendly flirting lesson between friends.

4. Loudly and Fervently and canyonoflight

Explicit. Regency. Complete. 6,369 words. Under 1 hour read. Set post-S2. The whole of London are overcome by a mist of sex pollen 🐝🌼. Colin tries to be a gentleman, but Pen naughtily displays her breasts at her window towards Colin’s bedroom which gets Colin climbing that tree speedily.

5. Love Is Merely A Madness by Sea_Dragonfly

Explicit. Regency. Complete. 6,900 words (Perfect word count for the amount of smut). Set post-S2. Pen is sequestered in her bedroom because of a mystery fever (sex pollen 🐝🌼) and Colin climbs the tree to Pen's bedroom to check on her. The sex pollen debauchery is offset by lots of trust, consent and tenderness.

6. Bonus sex pollen fic with no tree climbing. Love in Bloom by LillyWhitefield

Explicit. Regency. Complete. 5,250 words. Under 1 hour read. Book!Polin get sex pollened in a greenhouse by a mysterious flower 🐝🌼. Sweet & savvy Book!Pen deserves a sex pollen shag too.

#bridgerton #polin #polin fic #polin fanfiction

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pit-and-the-pen · 7 months ago

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Birthday Present

Birthday fic for @sarawritestories.

Summary: Cassian was gone during your birthday and shows up while you’re at work to make up for it.

Warnings: Smut (18+), P in v, Oral (f/m receiving), spit, collars/leash, fingering.

WC: 4.1k

This was probably the longest you had been separated from Cassian since the mating bond had snapped. You weren’t mad per say but you missed your mate like crazy. Not to mention that he had missed your birthday three days ago. You knew that he had wanted to be there, he made sure to top the previous year's celebration every time. And he always managed to deliver. Somehow after being mated for more than fifty years, he had never disappointed. But this year he was helping finally start to train the females in Windhaven. Something that you knew he had been fighting for for so long, how could you be mad at him for being there when that’s what was keeping him away.

Your birthday party was amazing nonetheless. Cassian had left detailed instructions for Nesta and Gwen as to how the party would go. He made sure to order your favorite foods well in advance, even having your present delivered first thing in the morning along with a bouquet of pink and white roses that was so large it took two people to deliver it. It filled the house with the scent of roses. The smell almost makes up for the lack of your favorite smell in the whole world, that citrus and salt smell that always seemed to accompany Cassian. The other part of your gift was a ruby choker with a piece of his siphon carved into the same shape as the diamond on your wedding band. You had nearly cried when you opened the box and had sent the image of you wearing it to your mate and the satisfied rush of lust you received back only proved how much he liked it too. You wish he had been there when you opened it, wish you could have shown him just how much you appreciated the piece of him that you now wore around your neck. Everyone already damn well knew who your mate was but the weight of it around your neck served as a warm reminder for you.

You rolled out of bed when your alarm went off, your mouth felt like someone had stuffed cotton balls in it. Nesta, Gwen and Elain had made sure that you properly celebrated your birthday last night. The empty bottles of wine and some clear liquor you didn't bother asking the name of proved as much. You gulped down the glass of water you had the sense to place out the night before and began to get dressed for the day.

You picked one of your favorite skirts. Long by fae standards, nearly brushing your calf. A swirling floral pattern offset the dark green of the background. You tucked in the long sleeved cream sweater and gave a small twirl in the mirror, watching the way the skirt fanned out around you as you did so. Your hair was quickly thrown into a high ponytail and you made sure to pull the necklace out from the high neck of the sweater. The charm just visible.

Quickly grabbing a slice of toast and some left over fruit from last night, you grabbed your bag and walked out the door. The slight chill in the morning air made you thankful for the sweater but you knew by the time the sun rose you would be sweating. The sound of your shoes hitting the cobblestoned street was the only sound that filled the air. You loved these quiet moments in the early morning. It gave you time to really soak in the beauty of Velaris. The way the rainbow street near your little shop shone in the faint rays of sunlight. The way the city itself seemed to hum with the sleeping breaths of its inhabitants. It was one of your favorite times to be out. You fished around in your bag for the ring of keys to unlock the store and stood in the doorway as you waited for the flights to kick on.

You loved the shop with all of your heart. It had been a mating present from Rhys. Your very own book store. The dark wood and dim lights made it seem so cozy. Cozy chairs and booths would be full of readers or writers thanks to the little cafe you had thought to add. Plus it had some of the best pastries in all of Velrais, so you’ve been told.

You switched the books on display for the day, putting your most recent read on the table next to a few new releases you had just gotten at the end of the day yesterday. Swirling letters were drawn on the sign next to them along with a small doddle to tell a little bit about the book and then you were ready to open the store, flipping the small “open” sign that Feyre had painted for you. You pulled the book you started last night out of your bag and sat down as you waited for people to start coming in.

The day seemed to drag by. It was relatively slow, only a few people coming in and out throughout the day. A few of your regulars sat in the cafe area, the soft sound of pens on paper and book pages turning became a gentle white noise that was starting to make your eyes heavy. You decided to get up to do something so you wouldn’t fall asleep.

You sighed heavily as you stacked another book on the shelf, rearranging the shop for the third time that month. You really did miss Cassian. The store seemed just a little too empty without him. He would always stop by to bring you lunch because he knows that you get so caught up in whatever task you were doing that day that you would forget otherwise. Sometimes he would just spend hours at the small high top table yapping away at whatever crossed his mind and you would have a smile on your face for the rest of the day.

Eventually the last of the customers packed up, calling their goodbyes as they walked out of the door. You sent your one cafe worker, Flora home for the day when they left. The sun was still high in the sky but you just wanted to be home. Cassian would be home later today and you wanted the time to clean up a little bit. Maybe make dinner after taking a nap. So you kept staking books, telling yourself you would leave once you emptied the cart next to the front counter. Too caught up to hear the front bell of the shop ring, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard someone clear their throat. You cursed softly to yourself, you must have forgotten to lock the door.

“Sorry we’re closed-” You turned around and a squeal left your mouth as you took in just exactly who was standing in the shop. Of course it was Cassian. His smell quickly flooded your senses and you put down the heavy book in your hand to launch yourself at him. You arms wrapped around his neck at the same time his arms wound around your waist. You buried your face into his chest as he squeezed you tighter against him.

“You weren’t supposed to get home until later. I would have closed up earlier if I had known.” You smiled up at him, basking in his presence..

“I wanted to get home to you, darling. Maybe even surprise you.” He leaned down to give you a teasing kiss. “Gods I missed you” He said once he pulled away from your lips. You wanted to pout at the loss of his plush lips against yours. Suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you haven't seen him in over a week. Your cheeks started to heat as you looked into his eyes, saw that he was clearly thinking the same thing. You were just about to tell him to take you home when he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I locked the front door.” His words only stoked the fire in your stomach. His gravelly voice telling you exactly what he meant. And at that moment, you wouldn’t have cared if he had. All thoughts eddied out of your head except for the feeling of your mates skin against yours. He gave a slow kiss to the spot below your ear and a shiver ran through you. His hands go up to play with the necklace sitting just above your shirt.

“I want to see you in this.” He gave it a slight tug, pulling your chin up with it. “Only this.” You whimpered as he forced you to look him in the eye. Fidgeting under his heated stare. “But that can wait until later. For now…” He kissed down your neck, down the little bits of exposed skin along your collarbone and started to sink down to his knees. He looked up at you, silently asking for permission as his hands started to snake up your ankles, pulling your long skirt up along with it. All it took was your little nod before he slipped your skirt down your hips entirely. He buried his face into your lace underwear, a small cry falling from your lips. His fingers hooked over the edge of the lacy fabric and began to pull them teasingly slow down your legs. He didn’t hesitate to flatten his tongue and give your fold one long swipe.

Your hand rushed out to grab the bookshelf beside you, knocking some of the covers to the floor in a loud crash. The giggle that you let out quickly turned into a moan as Cassian’s nose bumped your clit. The free hand tangled itself in his pulled back hair, loosening some of the strand from the bun. His response was sinking his teeth into the flesh at your tight. Your fingers harshly yanking at long locks. He licked teasingly over the mark his mouth had left.

“God I love these.” He muttered as he kneaded your plush thighs. He gave you a quick glance before he shoved his face back into your weeping cunt. Rough hands pulling your hips closer to his relentless mouth, arms nearly supporting all of your weight like it was nothing to him. The angle gave you a good look at the muscles in his back as they flexed as he moved his head, his wings pulled in tight to avoid the shelves of books. You bit your fingers to hold back the string of moans falling from your lips. His teeth scraped lightly over your clit and you were bucking away from his mouth. Suddenly too much but that didn’t stop him. He whimpered as he pulled your hips closer again. The soft grunts leaving his mouth and the way his tongue was licking into your hole had you barrling over the edge before you could even think to tell him. You screamed around your fingers, head falling back against the bookshelf you were now completely leaning against. Cassian is still licking you through your orgasm. Your eyes fluttered open and you nearly jumped when you felt a finger at your entrance. He was grinning up at you, chin shiny with your arousal. His gaze didn’t leave yours as he sunk two fingers in, palm resting perfectly on your clit.

“Look at the way you suck my fingers in. So good for me.” He said into the skin of your thighs as he started to pump those fingers in and out of you. You squirmed against his fingers, hip twisting as he started to speed us his motions. He grabbed one of your legs and slung it over his shoulder, opening you up wider for him. Your hand was doing nothing to conceal the squeals and high pitched moans leaving your mouth. So you just let them fall freely.

“Cassian…Fuck. Please” You babbled, not entirely sure what you were begging for. For more, for him to stop, for him to speed up. You had no clue but you knew that you were going to explode if he wasn’t inside of you right this minute. His fingers didn’t slow down for a second, the veins in his arm starting to pop out as he flexed at the speed. Despite your brain screaming otherwise, your hand reached down to his wrist. He stilled instantly. Eyes suddenly full of concern.

You only pulled him up by the collar of his shirt, hands going to undo his belt.

“Darling. Hold on-” His words died off with a small whine as your hand wrapped around his hardened length.

“No. Cassian I’m going to die if you don’t fuck me right now.” Your voice was breathy and shaky. The need to have your mate inside you is too strong all of the sudden.

“I could get you home in-”

“Please. Need you now.” You begged, moving your hand up and down, squeezing when you reached the base. His hips bucked and a small huff left his lips.

“I wanted to make it special since it was your birthday but…fuck. I warned you, princess.” He said, head leaning against yours as he lightly brushed your hand away. He pushed his pants down to let his cock fully spring out. Despite being mated to him for so long, his cock always made you balk just a little. The length so thick your fingers just barely touched when you wrapped your hand around it. “Jump.” Was all he said as his hands went to cup the back of your thighs. You did so with a practiced ease. Your ankles wrapping around his back as he lined himself up with your dripping folds. You both hissed as his tip nudged into you. He didn’t wait for you to adjust, slamming all the way in. His pace was relentless. The pace of his thrusts caused the bookshelf to rattle against the wall. Your mouth parted into a perfect o shape. Cassian just squeezed your jaw, opening your mouth up further for him to place a claiming kiss on your lips. The kiss was just as messy as his strokes, his tongue licking into your mouth. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his lips. A perfect mixture of the two of you. You wrapped your legs around him tighter, using it as leverage to pull him into you. He growled into the kiss, teeth digging into your lower lip. Your back arched into his chest and his hand moved from your jaw to wrap around your ponytail. He yanked on the hair, tipping your head further back, effectively pinning you into place.

“Cas. Cas please. I’m gonna cum.”

“Then cum.” His teeth nip your earlobe right as his fingers come to rub tight circles on your clit. You are a goner. Your legs twitch against his back, his name pouring past your lips as he fucks your through your orgasm. His thrusts slow down, becoming languid strokes as he nears his own high. Your lips are all over him. Trailing exhausted kisses to his jaw, hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt that somehow managed to stay on during your actions. He stilled inside of you as you felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten before the warm rush of his cum filled you. His head dipped into the crook of your neck before you were whispering into his ear.

“Take me home right now.” And he didn’t need to be told twice. Before you could even process it, he had your skirt buttoned back at your waist. Underwear slid back up your legs. Not a single hair was out of place as he scooped you up in his arms and flew you back to your apartment.

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The door had barely closed behind before your lips attached to his. Your hands gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him down to you. You felt the door shudder behind you as he pushed your back against it. Both of your hands were everywhere. Clothes peeled off with no regard for where they ended up.

“I never got to show you the best part of your present. Stay here.” He placed a kiss on your forehead before walking over to his bedside table and grabbing a small fabric pouch. He walked back over to you and slowly pulled out the contents of the bag. A long silver chain with a leather loop on the end. Your eyes widened as you placed two and two together.

“Only if you want to. That’s why I wanted-”

“Yes.” You blurted out. A blush took over your face but he only smiled at you.

“Then on your knees, darling.” He was suddenly towering over you and you loved every second of it. The carpet was soft under your knees and you sunk down. Your hands folded onto your thighs and your chin tilted up to look at him. He sucked in a heavy breath as your eyes met. A tender hand reached out to cup under your chin, tilting your chin further back and he crouched down to hook the chain into the large ring holding the piece of his siphon. You felt the added weight and goosebumps rose to your skin as he let the cold metal lay against your face.

“How does it feel?”

“Good.” Your mouth felt so heavy.

“Safe sign?”

“Two taps to slow down, three to stop.” You didn’t hesitate to answer, need rushing through you as he stood back up. His length right at your eye line. You felt saliva pool in your mouth.

He gave the leash a gentle tug, pulling your head back ever so slightly.

“Open.” You did immediately. But instead of his cock he leaned down again, hand squeezing your jaw open wider, and you felt his spit enter your mouth. You couldn’t even process the way it made your stomach clench before he was thrusting into your mouth. His spit makes his cock glide easily against your tongue. You kept your jaw lax, waiting for the command to close your lips around him. This was something you and Cassian had discussed a number of times. And it was even better than you imagined it could have been.

“Suck sweetheart. Show me what that pretty mouth can do.” And you did. You wrapped your lips around his thick length. Reveling in the weight of it against your tongue. A moan built in the back of your throat and was choked off with a sharp tug of the leash. He slipped all the way to the back of your throat. Thanks to years of practice, you took him with ease. He released some of the tension on the chain and you slid back, only for him to repeat the action again and again. Your cheeks were on fire at this point. Tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. The wonderful fuzzy feeling in your head told you just how hard he was fucking your mouth. You didn’t want it to end. You could feel him twitching in your mouth and it was too much. The burn between your thighs is too much to ignore. One of your hands snuck its way between your thighs and you had just slipped a finger inside of your weeping hole before he tugged the leash back. You whined at the feeling of his cum against your fingers.

“Fuck. Do you like my cock in your mouth that much?” He gritted out. A long string of spit connecting from your lips to his glistening member. You didn’t take your eyes off of it as you nodded your head. Nor did you stop the motion of your fingers.

“Words.” He tugged the leash up to make you look at him.

“Yes sir. I love it.” He shuddered at your words. As he took in your blown wide pupils, his cock twitched and you surged forward to wrap your lips around it again but he held tight onto the chain.

“Get on the bed.” He ordered and you pulled your fingers out of yourself slowly, feeling your walls clench around nothing. He pulled you up to your feet, a calloused hand resting under your arm as he let you get your feet underneath you. He tugged you over to the bed and helped you climb onto the bed. You were about to flip onto your back but a strong arm wrapped around your waist stopped you.

“Hands and knees.” He whispered into your ear. You felt a wave of slick coat your thighs as you arched your back for him. His hands rubbed up the back of your thighs, landing on your ass. You pushed back into his touch, savoring the warmth of his hands on your skin. He reached a hand between your legs and shoved a single finger into you. Your arms collapsed underneath you as he immediately found that spot inside of you. Your hips start to move on their own and you felt a tug on the leash, forcing you up onto your elbow again. You back arching even more as he held all your weight on that single chain. You panted as his fingers slowly stroked inside of you.

“Are you ready for me, sweet girl?”

“Yes. Please sir.” The words split off of your tongue and he was thrusting into you. The leash held you in place as he pounded into you. The sound of his hips hitting your ass filled the room. You could feel the way your thighs recoiled against the torturous pace. You were held in place, hips unable to push back, head held in the air. You reached a hand back, needing to feel your mate to ground you. He quickly intertwined your fingers, holding your hand. The gentleness of the action is a vast contrast to the way his trust speeds up. You were jolted forward with each frenzied push of his hips. You could feel every inch of him pushing your walls apart. You writhed under him, muscles shaking as you fought to keep yourself up. You gave a particularly hard jerk and you felt the tension on the leash drop and your face was against the pillow. You heard the sound of the chain hitting the bed under you and Cassian wrapped both of his hands around your thighs. He used the new position to pull you against him in time with his thrusts. Loud mewls being pulled from your lips. You were completely drunk on the feeling of him inside of you as you felt that knot build in you. It felt different from earlier. You struggled to get out the words to let Cassian know, but he always knew. He knew your body better than you at this point. He glided a hand over your stomach, pressing down on the soft flesh right above where he was inside you. The pressure had you screaming his name as your vision went white. You felt your release drip down your thighs, felt the way in leaked down around him. Cassian cursed before he whined above you.

“Look at you darling. You squirted for me.” His thrusts did not falter in the slightest. The lewd sounds of your wetness filled the room as you hummed against the pillow. Utterly fucked out. His pace stuttered once, twice and then a carnal growl left his lips as his hips stilled. You felt him empty himself inside of you. Staying fully sheathed inside of you as shudders wracked through his body. His hands were everywhere then. Rubbing all over your back, over your legs. He eventually pulled out of you and pulled you against his chest.

Quick kisses were peppered all over your face as his hand went to detach the leash from your necklace. You gave your neck a quick roll as the added weight was removed. His hands instantly come up to rub any added tension. He stepped out of the room long enough to grab a wet wash cloth and gently clean between your legs. Giving you a small kiss when you jumped from the additional stimulation. He threw the washcloth somewhere in the room before he pulled you into his arms again.

He laid you down on the bed, placing you on his chest. His hands are still rubbing small circles all over your skin. The perfect amount of pressure to bring you back down to earth.

“Thank you.” You whispered against his chest. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Happy birthday, darling.” was the last thing you heard before his gentle breathing lulled you to sleep.

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ariestrxsh · 6 months ago

Text

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚_____________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ⁭ ⁭

⁭ ⁭⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, lap dance, role play, fingering, oral, unprotected sex, praise, pussy worship, pussydrunk!matt, softdom!matt, exchange of money for sex

✍️ Summary: ✍️ You've started a job at a strip club in your town, and while you're on stage, you notice none other than Matt Sturniolo, a good friend of yours, watching you in the crowd. Neither one of you expected to run into one another here, but he approaches you as a customer and pretends he doesn't know you.

if you're looking for a chris version with a similar storyline, you can read it here 💖

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚_____________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

Taste

I had just recently started my job at a local strip club, and because I was new and unsure about how the people in my life would react, I opted out of telling my friends and family about it, so instead I told everyone I got hired at a bar, which wasn't entirely false. We did serve alcohol.

It took me a few weeks to get comfortable dancing in my heels, and a month before my legs weren't sore after every shift. Having been here a little shy of six months, I was making enough money to spend on even sexier lingerie so I could bring in even more tips. I was also learning new tricks on the pole.

I liked my job honestly, and I didn't feel like there were many people who could say that. I liked the work, I liked the women I worked with, I got paid well, and I even liked a lot of the customers. I had fun teasing men and spending my time with them while they gave me money and attention. It was a nice exchange. And I felt like I was genuinely getting to know some of them, even though they weren't exactly getting to know me. I was putting on a persona, and it was usually catered to the person I was servicing at the time, but it's not like it wasn't me. It was just only one aspect of me that I amped up and played heavily into. But I loved it. I loved dressing up and playing a role that was so different from my everyday demeanor and being what these men wanted me to be. In my everyday life, I was reserved, introverted, and kept to myself most of the time, but when I was dancing, I was an exaggerated version of who I was when no one was looking. My fantasies, my sexual desire, an alter ego if you will.

It was almost my time to go on. I reapplied my body glitter and made a few finals tweaks to my outfit. I was wearing a white sparkly corset that pushed my breasts up nicely and a matching thong as well as glass six inch heels. I had my hair down but out of my face and curly. "Give it up for Mary Jane," the announcer came on. I didn't want to use my real name at my work, so I decided on Mary Jane because it was innocent sounding and was also nothing like my real name. 'Taste' by Tyga and Offset played over the speakers, there was a spotlight on me and other lights around me flashed and changed colors, and I seductively strutted towards the pole in front of me, gripping it with one hand and doing a little spin around it. I slowly descended down the pole with my back to it until I was in a squat, looking out at the crowd of men who were eager to see my body and what it could do. I came back up and hooked one of my legs around the pole, doing a ballerina spin around it. I could feel all these eyes on me, and I gained even more confidence as the dollar bills started raining at me feet.

I made eye contact with a few customers I recognized, men who were regulars. Then my gaze scanned across a familiar face that wasn't one I usually saw in this setting. Matt Sturniolo? In a strip club? This was not his scene at all. We were decently close friends, but I certainly hadn't told him I applied here, and I didn't think it was necessary considering I didn't think I'd ever see him here. He appeared to be alone. No one I recognized was near him. And when we made eye contact, he was looking at me some sort of way I'd never been looked at by him before, like he was hungry for me. He had to have recognized me, right? I may look different with my tits pushed up to my chin, but not that different.

I focused my attention back to my dance, manipulating the attention of every man in the room, contorting my body in ways that had every man wishing they were the pole between my legs. I finished my song, collected my ones, tucked them into my corset, and carefully got down from the stage.

Once I looked up from watching my feet as I stepped off the stage, I saw Matt making his way over to me. I was really nervous about what he might say. If he'd be mad that I didn't tell him I was working here or if he'd tease me. Instead, he looked me up and down with his lust-filled blue eyes and licked his lips. "How much for a dance from you?" He asked me, smiling. He couldn't be serious. I hesitated for a second. I had never been put in a position where someone I recognized outside of the club came in and asked me for a dance.

On some level, it felt inappropriate. On another level, it felt like a bad business move to not take him up on it. "$100 for three songs," I responded nonchalantly. He casually took a $100 bill out of his wallet and tucked it into my corset with my other money. I liked the way he did that. Then he grabbed me by the waist and started walking with me towards the back of the club where he could sit down. "So, Mary Jane, did they say?" Matt asked as he sunk into his chair and looked up at me, almost as if studying the way I was gonna respond.

Was he going to pretend he didn't know me? Was this part of the fantasy, acting like we were two strangers who just met in a strip club when we're actually pretty close friends outside of this. I nodded. I turned around and began grinding on him, and he grabbed my waist in response, slowly running his fingers down my curves. "How long have you worked here, Mary Jane? Matt asked me. "Nearly six months," I replied while I shifted my weight so I was resting right against his half-hard cock. He let out a groan in response. "It's a shame I've missed you any time I've been in here," he answered. "You come here often?" I asked, it sounding like a bad pick up line in my head. "Sometimes, depends on what's going on in my life. Depends on my needs at the time," he told me. I didn't know that about Matt.

There was something about being on his lap, brushing up against his hardening member in his pants that was turning me on more than I thought it should be. I had given men lap dances before that I'd found attractive, and it definitely left me a little wet a few times. But this was different. I definitely had always found Matt attractive, and there was an extra layer to this, Matt and I acting like this was our first time meeting. The way his demeanor was different in this setting and the way mine was too. I was beginning to wonder if I was starting to enjoy this more than he was.

"I wanna see your face," Matt growled into my ear, and I obliged by turning around and straddling him. I went back to basically riding him with our clothes on while we looked into each other's eyes. Matt's hands almost immediately found their way to my ass. "You have an incredible body, you know that?" Matt commented. "You're not so bad yourself," I smirked at him. Matt's hands moved from my ass to my breasts. The way he handled me was gentle but with purpose and demanding at the same time. I loved the way his hands traced my body while I continued to grind against him. "Fuck, I wanna kiss you so bad," Matt responded, staring at my lips. "You can if you have another $100 on you," I replied. No matter how badly I wanted to kiss him, I made it a rule that I'd always charge for intimate touch like that, because the men had to know it was transactional. I didn't want to make anyone feel lead on. This was my job, and this was a sale.

Matt shifted my hips so that I was straddling his knee now instead as he reached for his wallet in his pocket. I found myself holding my breath as his leg rubbed up against my already wet cunt and caused friction that sent a shock of pleasure through my nerve endings. It took everything in me to keep from riding his thigh while he pulled another benjamin out of his wallet and tucked it into the bra of my corset. I leaned in to kiss him. His lips were soft and pouty. His kiss was gentle, the same as his touch. His tongue slowly slipped into my mouth and brushed against my own. It was wet and velvety. While he passionately kissed me, his hands made their way to my face, softly cupping it. I pulled away, looking at him with a deep desire.

"Your three songs are almost over," I whispered, maintaining control of the situation. "I can pay for another three songs," Matt said, about to shift me onto his knee again. "Matt, please. As your friend, I can't let you do this. $300 is a lot of money to be spending at a strip club," I lectured him, breaking character. "Mary Jane, tonight I'm just another customer. I make my own money, I can spend it how I like," Matt bit his lip at me. "I wanna spend it on you, baby. I wanna spoil you," his words sent more waves of ecstacy through my body.

"Alright, another three songs," I said putting out my hand to accept another bill. "Actually, how much to take you to the private room?" Matt gestured towards the more intimate spaces where no one could see us. "All that you have in your wallet," I said jokingly, making a gun with my hand and jabbing it into his chest, but he took me seriously. He pulled out his wallet, grabbed a wad of cash, stuck it in my g-string this time, and tipped his wallet upside down to show me it was empty all while he smiled. I reached down to the money he'd put in my panties. "Only catch is, I want you for the whole night. Until the club closes," Matt growled while I counted the money. There was almost $1000 in my hand. I was shocked that Matt had this kind of money to blow at a strip club. And the fact that he did this semi-regularly? Matt was very quiet about how much money he had and about what a freak he was, and I liked that.

I thought about declining his offer and telling him I couldn't mix business, friendship, AND pleasure. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized I'd be dumb not to. He was hot, he wanted me, and I'd never made this much money in one night before. "Deal," I said, tucking the money into my corset. Matt grinned at me. "Follow me," I said, leading him back.

I'd taken men into the private rooms before many times, and I liked it. It was quieter, away from all the noise. There was a bed and a couch. Usually, men would take me in there because they wanted more privacy. I'd never slept with a customer, no matter how much I'd been offered, but there were a few times where I'd definitely maybe crossed an ethical line that could technically get the club in trouble, but I'd never tell. I was good at keeping secrets. There were a few men I'd given handjobs to, one john who had taken my tits out of my bra and teased my nipples with his tongue, and one guy who rubbed my clit over my panties until he made me cum. I remembered being so embarrassed and blushing after that encounter, but that was the most money I'd ever made in one night. Until tonight.

"Why don't you take that top off?" Matt inquired when we were alone in the room. I smirked at him as I pulled all the cash out of my bra and set it next to my shoes I'd slipped out of to get more comfortable. I was nervous for him to see me like this, but it was just business. I started undoing the clasps on my corset when Matt came up behind me to help me. When all the hooks were undone, Matt slowly slid my straps down my shoulders one by one. He let my corset slowly fall to the ground, and when it did, he took both breasts into his hands and looked at them in awe. "Shit," he whispered to himself, fondling them, brushing up against my sensitive nipples.

Matt made his way to the couch and comfortably sprawled out, taking up space and licking his lips while his eyes studied my every curve while running his hand along his hard dick in his pants. "Come here, princess," Matt said, rubbing his leg and patting it, motioning for me to sit down, so I did. Once I leaned back into him, he played with my nipples some more, teasing them, pinching them, sucking on them. His hands slowly moved to the front of my panties, rubbing me through the fabric for a few minutes, and moved my thong aside while I sat on his lap. "Your pussy looks so pretty with your panties all pushed to the side like that," Matt complimented me in a voice that was barely above a whisper as he reached for it. When he started moving his fingers in circles skillfully around my clit, I let out a soft moan. "Oh, you're so wet, darling," Matt observed, exploring me with his hands. I loved sitting on his lap like a giddy little girl. His touch felt amazing. He slipped a finger inside of me and then another one while he looked down at my entrance, enthralled by how much wetter he was making me. "Oh, Matt," I whimpered as I started to get close. "Come on pretty girl. Cum all over my fingers," Matt smirked. I couldn't believe I was hearing these words leave Matt's mouth, but I took them as a command. I came unraveled while I sat on his knee with his fingers pumping in and out of me. I felt my body tense up and tremble for a few seconds, and then a glorious release.

"Good girl. You think I could make you cum again?" Matt cooed, licking his fingers while I tried to catch my breath, but I nodded and smiled. He lifted me up off his lap, revealing a wet spot on his pants under where I was sitting, and Matt seemed turned on by it. He sat me on the couch and got down on his knees on the floor between my legs. He pulled my panties to the side again, and I felt his hair tickle my thigh as he leaned it and attached his lips to my vulva. He teased me by kissing and licking everywhere but my clit while he looked up at me, smiling. "Please Matt," I whined, tugging at his curls, trying to bring him closer to where I wanted him to lick me, but he was doing it on purpose, making me beg for it, and he loved it. "Your pussy is so pretty up close and personal like this. Let me take my time with her," he smirked, teasing my entrance and kissing the insides of my thighs. He finally gave in after a few more minutes of my relentless pleading, manipulating my sweet spot with his tongue. He started moving it faster and more enthusiastically. It felt so good, I found myself sliding down on the couch, slowly but surely inching my pussy towards his face. He grabbed my hips and held me in place while he passionately moaned against me, sending shivers through my body. Matt was surprising me by the minute. He was certainly a jack of all trades, and I was learning I didn't even know a lot about him at all, only the parts that he wanted me to see. And the more I saw, the more I liked.

I started digging my nails into his shoulders as he continued to eat me like a mad man, running his hands and his tongue anywhere he pleased, and every time I was responsive to the way he touched me, he moved more eagerly. I was a moaning, writhing wreck under the flick of his tongue the carress of his fingers. I had never let a customer go down on me before. There were a lot of ethical boundaries I was willing to cross at this point for Matt. It just made it even hotter that we were playing into this fantasy that we didn't know each other and that he was just paying for a stripper - and at this point, basically a prostitute. I liked that Matt was paying me to eat my pussy. What a dream. And he was so wonderful at it too. Such attention to detail. So thorough. So restrained yet so urgent. I couldn't get enough of how much he wanted me.

"I'm so fucking in love with your pussy, I could eat you for hours," Matt mumbled in between licks. He closed his lips around my swollen bud and gently sucked on it until I was trembling and nearly screaming his name. "Yes, pretty girl. Make a mess on my tongue. I know you can do it," he cooed. His encouragement along with his skillful mouth had my second orgasm hitting me even harder than the first. I couldn't keep my hips from grinding against Matt's tongue while I twitched and whimpered obscenities, gripping the back of his head.

"Oh my fucking god. Where did you learn to do that?" I smiled down at him once I started to recover from my intense climax. "You're the one who basically showed me what to do with your body language. All I had to do was listen," he smirked. His answer was as hot as what he had just done to me. I liked the way Matt was in tune with my body, and the way he was trying things out to see how I'd react and then doing the things I loved over and over again. It was similar to how I behaved with my customers.

"Have you ever gone down on any other women in these clubs?" I asked him. "No, not ever. This was a first for me," he confided in me, which made me feel special. "First for me too. Guess it wouldn't hurt if we went further.." my voice started to trail off. "Say no more, princess," Matt said, finally taking the time to take off my panties instead of just moving them to the side again.

He unbuttoned his pants, pulled down his boxers, and entered me with no warning. I felt myself invite him in easily, and he started pumping in and out out of me aggressively. I loved the way he filled me and the way he spoke to me. I loved the way his lips parted to let out a stream of moans and the way he looked at me with his glazed over blue eyes, letting me know he couldn't take it much longer. His cock repeatedly hitting my pleasure spot was sending me over the edge again. I throbbed around his thickness as another wave crashed over me, and I got lost in it for a moment. All I could feel was endless pleasure, and there was a ringing in my ears that lasted for several minutes after I came. Matt loudly groaned "Oh, fuck," while he pulled out, leaving a mess on my pussy, and we both watched as his cock twitched and released his sticky white substance. He smiled down proudly and in awe of the way his ejaculate glistened on my womanhood.

He collapsed on the couch beside me after it was all over. "You're so much different at work as opposed to the shy girl I see every day," Matt nudged me. "Not shy, just keep my cards close to my chest," I corrected him. "But yeah, you're so much different as well. Who knew you could fuck like that?" I said, licking my lips, and he grinned as I complimented him.

"I've gotta go, sweetheart. The club is closing in ten minutes, and I've gotta come up with something to tell Chris and Nick about why I've been gone for several hours," he laughed. He leaned down one more time to stroke my face, and he gave me a sensual, slow, deep kiss. "Matt, seriously, come again. I loved doing business with you," I smiled up at him, not wanting him to leave. "I'll be back darling. Don't worry. I'd pay a million dollars if I had it to drown in that sweet pussy again. Just promise me, it'll be our little secret."

#sturniolo smut #sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #ariestrxsh #taste

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