#Your love has drawn red from my hands | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

riddlesrose · 12 days ago

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kissin him stupid

w/ the housewardens

in which you were recently gifted a tube of lipstick from grim, you're unsure of where he got it or why he decided it's yours now but it's given you a fantastic idea.

(he probably stole it from vil somehow and wants to place the blame on you..)

note; malleus' is the shortest but the most full of love i swear to goooood but the post itself is quite long

if riddle could form a proper sentence right now, he might scold you for slacking off, or breaking rule six hundred and seventeen, or he may just ask you to do it again. if colours could speak, his face would scream in comparison to the red accents in the housewarden’s room, uniform and matching hair.

you attempt to keep a sober expression but he seriously cannot be so flustered by a single kiss? the red lip stain on his cheek is bright against the flush of his cheeks, as he sputters vowels and consonants, attempting to speak, to protest, to ask you what in the queen’s name are you doing.

you invited riddle over to the ramshackle dorm under the guise of needing help with studying, but you had this motive the entire time. riddle could feel your rebel to his help and directions if he ignored the obvious fact you hadn’t even cracked the spine of your book yet (to be fair it was only assigned today, and it was a new book), and the devious smile you attempted to hide until now.

riddle took a breath, finally feeling sensible enough, “what… was that.”

“affection, riddle. this isn’t new.” you shot, tone dripping in sarcasm.

“yes, my rose, i know that. i mean,” he grabs hold of your uniform tie, drawing you closer, “what’s with the lipstick?” your head probably could have exploded, where did this riddle come from and how can he be drawn out more often?

you press a swift kiss to riddle’s other cheek, thanks to the proximity. “i have no explanation,” you press another kiss onto his forehead, “i simply was gifted it,” a kiss to his temple, “this morning.” the grip riddle has on your tie loosens completely as it falls back onto your chest, slightly wrinkled from the force.

“i just had this ironed!” you frown.

“i-i’ll get it done again.” riddle stands, brushing invisible dust off his jacket, though nothing could distract from the shade of pink that covers his face.

“you’ll iron my tie for me? how kind.” you wrap an arm around riddle’s waist, pulling him close. he drops his forehead against your chest with a thud, inaudibly mumbling to himself.

you wrap your other arm around him as he takes your face between his hands, slightly squishing into your cheeks he drags your face to his height, kissing you feverishly.

“where did this riddle come from? i like him.”

“i just felt… bold i suppose.” riddle’s red tinted lips smile against yours.

“do it again!”

leona stirs underneath you. you’re sat, straddling either side of his hips, weight pressed on his defined torso. leona doesn’t know it but you’ve practically trapped him where he sleeps. where he’s asleep currently, that is. in your dorm.

on your couch.

using your pillows, taking in the setting sun like a true feline, though you would never dare utter the word feline anywhere near him lest you face the wrath of a moody boyfriend.

you silently laugh to yourself, leaning down and pressing your lips on the prince’s temple.

leona stirs again at that, attempting to roll over – he cracks an eye when you gasp. slowly, coming to his senses, he furrows his brows at your positioning. you weren’t there when he fell asleep, when did you do that, and why are you sitting on him with half of a sinister smile across your lips…

and when did your lips turn red? he brings a hand up to rub his face, trying to shake the sleep out of his fogged mind, but you catch his hand before it makes contant.

“don’t, it’ll mess up all my hard work,” you say with a half hint of embarrassment. (just a hint; only because you were caught before you could slip away undiscovered.)

leona’s confusion increases, as he detaches your hand from his wrist. he takes his freed hand up to your lips and swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, smudging it further across the line of your lip.

he inspects his red finger, “is this… lipstick?” you purse your lips in an attempt to stifle the laugh that bubbles in your chest. he looks ridiculous; eyes half lidded, nose crunched in focus and red marks painting his face.

your tinted lips curl upwards slightly into a smug grin, “maybe?” if leona knows one thing, it’s smug grins. he matches yours and wipes his thumb on your cheek, smearing the lipstick off his thumb and onto your skin.

you playfully swat his hand away and lean down to continue painting your masterpiece, placing another kiss on his skin – onto the spot between his eyebrows. leona’s hand find your hip, giving a teasing pinch to the side.

leona may be a prince used to some pampering, but this is some treatment he could get used to.

azul has a finger in every pie, as riddle likes to say. you’re very much aware of that as your boyfriend likes to talk your ear off about his investments, new opportunities and the lounge. you’re so very proud of all of his hard work but sometimes he gets off on a tangent that doesn’t stop until you make him. usually with a kiss. it flusters him just enough that he forgets what he was going on about and it works every time.

this time, however, was a bit different. azul didn’t take notice of the hue change of your lips as you leaned in and shut him up. drawing back, you snicker at his pursed lips and flushed cheeks, and the red lipstick smeared around his lips.

azul peeked in your direction, curious. you usually find it funny when he’s flustered like this but you were laughing a little too much. he noticed the messy red lipstick and furrowed his brows, wiping a finger across his lips.

you suppressed a smile as you watched him curiously examine his stained finger, “it’s lipstick.” he concludes.

“well… obviously? i thought that would have been pretty clear,” you grab his hand, wiping the red off of his finger.

before azul can retort you lean in to kiss him again; anywhere you can get your lips on before he shells himself away, utterly embarrassed. a kiss to his cheek, jaw, forehead, nose, other cheek, forehead again, has him sputtering, almost begging to be released.

azul places his free hand on your shoulder, trying to push you away while laughing between breaths. when you do back up, leaning back on your hand, he almost looks sad. (as if he wasn’t actively trying to get you off!)

“so, mister ashengrotto? feeling loved and appreciated yet?” you give him a toothy grin, watching as his face contorts from flustered to even-more-flustered. (if that’s possible.)

“well yes! i dare say i’m feeling very valued and cherished as well.” despite his rosy features, his voice is unwavering, full of conviction.

his confident, put-together outer layer completely melts away when you’re alone with him, but this has him absolutely on fire, a feeling no number could replace. numbers can’t give affection, you give it tenfold in their stead.

kalim’s permanent grin widens when you claim you’ve got a gift for him. he expectantly holds out his hands, making you shake your head.

“it’s more of an eyes closed kind of gift,” you start, kalim instantly squeezes his eyes shut. he puts so much trust in you that you worry jamil has eyes everywhere. everywhere. but you brush the jesting idea away, believing that you wouldn’t even be allowed on scarabia grounds if jamil didn’t trust you with the housewarden.

you turn to a nearby mirror, passing the tube of red lipstick over your lips. the smooth makeup applies nice and neatly. (doesn’t matter because you know it won’t be neat for long.)

you step back over to where kalim’s sitting on the edge of his bed, standing between his knees. he’s waiting not-so patiently, he looks like he’s almost vibrating, is he really that excited? you suppress a smile as you gently grab onto his jaw, tilting his head to the side as you press your lips to his cheek. his laughter immediately fills the room, making you press more kisses over his face. one to his forehead, one on the nose, another on the other cheek, his temples, and anywhere you can get before he’s laughing too much, pushing you away.

“it tickles,” he heaves a breath, “stop!” a wider smile grows on his face after seeing yours, the red lipstick you applied had smudged around your lips, looking not-so neat. his face isn’t much better, tan skin littered in red kisses.

while you’re mentally retaining the image of kalim covered in red lip marks, you notice him looking more intently at you. you raise a brow, curiously.

“my turn, give it here!” he reaches a hand out, expecting the tube of lipstick?

you look at him bewildered, “what?”

“my turn!” he repeats. he seems real set on returning the ‘gift’ it seems. kalim’s all smiles as you hand him the black tube. he exposes the stick and passes it over his own lips, tossing it aside and pulling you down to his seated height. he flattens his lips across the expanse of your face, getting at any skin he can just like you did to him.

when he deems he’s finished, you’re dazed and equally covered in red lipstick stains, smiles wide across your faces. matching stained faces for matching blitheringly infatuated idiots.

vil leans on the back of his vanity chair; his face littered in different coloured lip marks. the reason? he claims he wants to see which ones compliment him the most.

you know he already knows exactly which shades of each brand line do exactly that. (thanks, rook.) vil doesn’t know that you know he’s already figured this out.

you wipe the makeup remover-soaked cotton pad across your lips, ridding it of the pink. “what would all of your fans think if they knew you were being covered completely in rainbow kisses?” you wipe the moisture from your lips as vil reaches around you to grab another tube, but you stop him.

“i’m sure they would lose their minds,” you reach into your pocket, revealing a miscellaneous tube of lipstick, it matches none of the previously discarded lipsticks, nor does it have a brand logo on it. “where did you find this?” vil takes the lipstick in his hand, nimbly examining the exterior. he removes the top to reveal a rich, velvety red colour. his eyes widen just slightly.

“it’s a secret,” you wink and take the lipstick from him and apply it, smiling as you replace its cap and let it fall from your hand, onto a messy vanity behind you.

vil wraps an arm around your neck, drawing you closer to his seated level, “well, share your secret with me, if you would be so kind.” you swiftly close the gap between yourself and the housewarden, administering a healthy dose of red onto his lips and the surrounding skin.

he parts first, his cheeks dawn a hint of pink that’s hidden behind the various stains on his otherwise perfect skin. he truly is the most beautiful person ever. makeup or not, hair tied back or loose, vil is sincerely as pretty as the morning's first light, a flower; freshly bloomed, and a fresh set of nails.

“you’re staring. not that i mind,” you snap out of your hazy daydream about your gorgeous boyfriend and back into reality.

“yeah, sorry. you’re just really fucking pretty.” you lean down and tenderly kiss his forehead as he internally squeals like one of his fan-girls. he really hit the jackpot with you as his (second) biggest fan.

idia looks up at you with wide yellow eyes, but they have a sort of gloss over them that makes you believe he would not want you to get up and leave his dorm right now. you grin at his feeble attempt of a silent, inconclusive plea. an ask to what, you’re unsure because his face (minus the eyes) and hands grabbing at you tell you he’s very much enjoying you straddling his hips right now.

you reach into your pocket, revealing your master plan. a tube of lipstick, you swipe it over your lips once, then twice before replacing the cap and tossing it down, letting it hit the plush bedsheet you’re atop.

the translucent tips of his hair start to turn pink as you lean down towards his face. a trembling hand comes up to your shoulder, not pushing you away but seemingly grounding the housewarden underneath you. “how cute,” you smile against his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, then another to his left cheek, then the right. one more on his forehead for good measure. maybe one more. okay, one last one couldn’t hurt.

you sit upright and drag a hand down idia’s chest, over the sweater you know is probably two sizes to large for him, (but that’s how he likes them you suppose and it just makes for a more comfortable sweater when you steal ‘em) while admiring the definitely not smudge-proof lipstick marks on idia’s face, giggling as you compare the red smears to his blue features. you wonder if-

the rapid rise and fall of idia’s chest catches your attention, it almost sounds like he’s hyperventilating, but when you look up to his face it’s surrounded by fiery pink hair and a flush across his cheeks, spanning down his neck, you realize he’s fine. probably a little more than fine.

“well, that’s some false advertising,” you smile, wiping at the edges of your lips lightly with a finger. idia snaps out of his stupor, hastily agreeing with a stuttered breath. his hands find your hips, giving you a small squeeze. you lean down and press a proper kiss to his lips, you lift away just as quick as you bent down, pushing idia back down as he chases you up, hoping for more. a pitiful whine escapes him as his hair burns brighter.

the red lipstick mixes with his natural blue lips gives him a sort of purple that would put the octavinelle’s house colour to shame. though, he almost looks forlorn. the usual solemn and gloomy housewarden; reduced to a blushing mess after a few kisses.

hilarious, isn’t it?

malleus’s eyes flutter shut, a pleased sigh escapes his lips. his hands, hidden by your sweater, trace messy patterns on your back as his nails scratch lightly. he’s unsure of how he got himself into this humanoid predicament but he’s not complaining.

you’re sat in his lap, placing kisses all over his face, leaving red lip marks behind.

“you look like you’re enjoying this more than i am, malleus.” you bring a hand up to rake it through his bangs, pushing them behind his horns and revealing the shiny scales hidden beneath.

the housewarden cracks a sharp emerald eye, examining your features. the slope of your nose, the curve of your stained lips, your eyelashes, cheeks. your eyes. oh how he loves your eyes, the way they look up to him with adoration, not fear or indifference like other humans do.

you cup his cheek, “malleus?”

he blinks once, twice. the gloss over his eyes breaks, refocusing on you. “i apologize, i was lost in thought.”

“i could tell,” you trace your finger to the tip of his ear, then drop your hand back into your lap. “what were you thinking of? me?”

“yes.”

“woah, okay. blunt!” heat rises to your face.

a hand leaves your back, trailing around your side and up to tuck a piece of hair away from your eyes. “was i not suppose to tell the truth?”

“no, malleus, you should have said you were thinking of pancakes.”

“but i wasn’t? i was thinking of-” you cut him off, placing a kiss on his lips.

“now, let me resume my art.”

malleus is more than happy to sit as still as the gargoyle statues he studies while you press kisses all over his face. he is, truly is.

this was so self indulgent i ain’t even sorry (is my favouritism showing??)

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mixingandmelting · 3 months ago

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Secretly Admiring You Artistically

Summary: How he's expressing that you're in his mind through art

a/n: based on scenes in the comics as civilians

Dick: Doodles

He’s dying. Actively decaying in real-time. Why he brought back the notepad from his day job as an officer home or why Haley pulled it out from his bag and gave it to you, he has no idea. To make matters worse, he’s crouching on the ground with both hands covering his very-much burning face as you stand in front of him silently, flipping through each page that’s filled with doodles of you rather than work notes he should’ve been taking for the cases he’s working on.

It isn’t an exaggeration to say his world revolves around you. He’s not ashamed or has any problem expressing how much of a simp he is for you whether it’s to you or everyone both verbally and physically, 24/7. Seriously, he can’t go a day without getting a kiss from you or telling you how much he loves you, no matter the situation. He’s constantly stuck to your side, always smiling from how you showered him with affection back, spoiling him silly to the point he’s thinking he’s the luckiest man in the world. But artistically? He drew a stick figure once during a game of Scribble. Tim was for sure that it was a basketball hanging on a fishing pole. Bruce had told him he can help him get enrolled for art classes.

“So, did the sarge or corporal see any of this yet?”

“No…,” He manages to wheeze out. He needs the ground to swallow him up right now. He still can’t believe this is how his (poorly and very much terribly drawn) doodles of you are discovered and exposed to you of all people. When he hears the notepad being closed shut, he musters all the strength in his mind and body. “...Can I please have my notepad back now?” He knows the answer. And he knows what’s about to happen next. But maybe today he’ll be lucky he’ll get it back-

“Nope.” The way you pop the “p” at the end of the word - of course you wouldn’t. He doesn’t even need to look at you to know the type of grin you have on your face.

With that, he gets up and yells your name as he gets up to chase after your running form. Sure, he’s dreading what exactly you might do with the doodles but his heart is filled with adoration from how he still managed to give you happiness from them. You are the most lovable person in the world to him - he can’t wait to kiss the ever living lights out of you when he gets you.

Jason: Poetry

Oh. Well. This is embarrassing. He rubs the back of his neck, face completely dyed red. You snuggling your face into the crook of his neck while embracing his biceps is fine. In fact, he loves waking up to see you sleeping peacefully next to him. His heart always swells with affection from how you feel so warm and right in his arms while being reminded how you genuinely enjoyed and appreciate him and his presence. The problem was the book lying open on the coffee table next to him. The book filled with romantic poems that he placed on his face after deciding to take a power nap which ended up as a snooze session.

He had been reading each poem, using a sticky note and red pen (because he’s not a heathen to ruin such beautiful and sacred text) to mark which parts or lines reminded him of you the most. Each sticky note had arrows drawn with whatever note he’d make about you, placed on the long-edge of the pages. It was obvious you had found out the contents of the book before joining him on the sofa as you had done the same, only your sticky notes were sticking out from the shorter-edge.

“Jason… What’s wrong?” He quickly turns his head away, covering the lower half of his face. The fact you aren’t even letting go when you usually would makes things worse, your grip tightening instead of getting loose. He doesn’t turn around to know the expression you’re making, feeling you nuzzle into his side.

“...Are you telling Roy or the others about this?”

“What? Hell no. This is only for you and me- why would I want to share it?”

With that, he topples over you and wraps himself around you like a giant, warm teddy bear. On top of relief, he’s filled with childish glee from getting to share something that’ll only be meant between you and him. It gets a chuckle from him when you laugh at how ticklish he makes you as he snuggles into you, eventually making you two fall asleep in each other’s embrace with smiles on your faces.

Tim: Photography

He’s pacing in circles in his room. Then he’s flopping onto his bed and screaming into his pillow. Pacing in the room. And again, screaming into his pillow. He’s been repeating this exact pattern for ten minutes straight now after finding the photo album on his desk. How Stephanie found out about them or why she showed them to you when you stopped by while he was out, he doesn’t know nor want to know. But he’s pretty sure that he's doomed. Best case scenario is break up. Worst case scenario is you choosing to never see him again because you found him creepy.

But, it’s not his fault, okay? He’s really down bad for you. Even when he’s dating you, he keeps finding himself falling for you deeper and deeper to the point he doesn't want to miss a single moment whenever he’s with you. So, every time the two of you went on dates or plainly hung out, he’d take pictures of you. You standing on a hill during a sunset, looking outside with the window down in his car, laughing in front of a bonfire with a marshmallow on a stick in your hands. He can’t imagine life without you. He needs to be with you even if it’s in a photo.

Finally, he gets back up and dejectedly drags his feet to the desk. Might as well put the album away before more people find out about it. Or so he thought when he suddenly freezes at the sight of a note sitting on top of it. There’s only a single sentence in your hand writing, making him do what it says. Having memorized the order of the photos in each album, he immediately finds a photo of him laughing while sitting on top of the hood of his car. It sits adjacent to a photo of you doing the same, making it look like the two of you were laughing while looking at each other. Heart skipping a beat with tears threatening to spill, he doesn’t look away when he grabs his phone and dials your number.

“So? Are we hanging out tonight?”

“No, we’re doing more than that. We’re going to go all out, my treat.”

The way you chuckle does so many wonders to him. With that, he rushes to get ready. Even if he can’t give you the whole world now, he plans on making tonight the best night of your life since there’s no other way for him to express how much he loves you when words can’t cover half of them.

Duke: Notes

He’s an idiot. That’s what he mentally screams to himself when he drops the pile of handwritten notes right in front of you. Not once had he ever mentioned that he had collected all the notes you wrote to him including the ones back before the two of you even got together. All of them were written as your way to cheer him on, secretly giving them to him in every way you possibly can. It’s as if nothing could stop you from passing him a note, whether it’s during class, passing in the hallways, eating lunch, or slipping them in his school bag. There were even times you managed to place them in his textbooks, right where the assigned reading starts.

All those notes you passed to him, he found solace. He feels that he’s being mentally and emotionally supported unconditionally, no matter the circumstances . You don’t know how he cherishes the smiley faces you draw on them or the words you write. Each and every note he treats like they are a piece of you. It led him to keep a few in his pocket, pulling one and reading it to get the extra boost he needs to get through whatever he’s doing even if it’s homework or patrolling the city.

Now here he was, caught red handed. He’s so nervous and on the verge of a mental breakdown, fearing that you might think he’s strange. Immediately he starts to ramble, spewing every excuse in the book while watching you pick the notes that dropped from his pocket off the ground.

“They were growing into a pile inside my bag, so I was kind of in the middle of-”

“Do they work?”

He stops and blinks at you. What do you mean they work? There’s a light blush coloring your cheeks, your hands gently straightening each note to stop them from wrinkling and getting damaged further.

“Are they making you happy?” Oh. Oh. He pulls you into a strong hug, hoping his actions convey how he feels about you. It’s not the notes that’s making him happy- it’s you and your efforts to make sure he is that makes him the happiest man in the world.

Damian: Sketching

No. Just no. He’s so embarrassed that he can’t muster a single word right now. You were teasing him a minute ago about how he must have sketches of you when he refused to show you his notepad he carries around. Little did you know and much to his horror, you were completely right and that exactly was the reason why he didn’t want to show it to you. In fact, he had been finishing another sketch of you before your so-called attempt to sneak up on him. You being you, you kept probing him into showing his sketches and with him being so flustered, he ended up getting the notepad snatched out of his hand leading to the current situation where both of you are standing with the biggest blush to be seen from mankind.

It’s not two sketches he’s drawn too. There’s a whole comic strip he drew in there featuring one of his favorite moments he had with you on top of all the other sketches, some being portraits, some being a compilation of various expressions you make on a daily basis. The way he’s constantly stuck about you has gotten to where Jon had gotten smug at guessing what he was thinking of when Jon found him suddenly grinning to himself. That day, the two of them got grounded by their parents once Damian started to threaten Superboy by getting kryptonite out and the other shot lasers out of his eyes as self defense.

“They’re so beautiful.” Your muttering snaps him back to reality.

Not wasting a second, he grabs his notepad back. Pride damaged and completely panicked by showing a pathetic side to himself to you, he tries to go somewhere, anywhere, away from you. Only to stop when you grab his wrist.

“Damian, you're absolutely talented.”

He mentally groans. He hates how you’re sincere and genuine in these moments. You don’t know how much he treasures you because of this - being open, honest, and accepting of his every being. Worse is you not being aware or truly choosing your battles - it’s how you are; it’s part of your nature. Accepting his loss, he sits back down. He refuses to admit how affected he is by the way you smile with excitement when you pick up his sign. Letting his shoulder brush against yours, the two of you go through his drawings with you commenting on each one while he snarks back though it’s softer and filled with fondness.

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

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merthosus · 6 months ago

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The Deli

Summary: You saw Five and Lila cheating and end up in a random train station. As a Diner caught your eye you couldn't believe what or rather who was waiting for you inside. Summary: You saw Five and Lila cheating and end up in a random train station. As a Diner caught your eye you couldn't believe what or rather who was waiting for you inside.

Here a sexy poster from Five I fell in love with! With every purchase you automatically support me :) https://amzn.to/3yGK6Fm

"You have no idea what most of the Fives in here would do for you"

I stumble out of the train, almost tripping over the edge. This can't be, he would never. I hate him, I never thought that I could do this but I do. My heart was shattered, it felt like it was being torn out of my torso and ripped in thousand parts. How could he do this to me? How could he do this to Diego? I have no idea where I am, or rather when I am. But I didn't care I just walked along the train station. My heels clicked with every step they took. The sound echoed with every thud on the white tiles.

I caught them. Five was missing and in my head there where millions of horrible ideas what could be happened to him. I can't believe I worried. We gone through so much shit and he shattered everything just like it was nothing. I traveled so far with these damn trains, no idea how I could possible come home again, just to caught them kissing each other. These assholes! Slowly the sadness turned into anger and every step I take gets louder.

In the distance I see red light reflecting on the floor. I swear to god if this is a trainstation-stripclub I trow myself on the rails. Seeing so much today what I couldn't believe makes me getting the wildest ideas, expecting anything but normal. I step closer and what I see is a Diner. Without hesitation I enter. I would kill for a chocolate croissant and a nice cup of coffee right now. But as soon as I entered everything went silent. Even a fly could be heard.

As shocked as they were as shocked I was. "This can't be", I mumble to myself. Every pair of eyes, which stared me down, were his. The Five which was now coming out of the back, let his tablet fall onto the ground. The sudden loud noise made the other ones fall out of their trance. "Y/n?", a few said, but others were just looking. "She's mine!", one of the Five's screams. Others were already talking him down. Another was punching a different Five and two got them apart. Without hesitation one five stood up and walked towards me. "I am sorry it's been a long time since they seen you", he says confusing me even more. "i...I what the hell is going on?", I ask, not believing what I saw standing infont of me.

"You just kissed Lila and now you are talking with me as nothing has happened? And what is this here? A stupid joke?", I ask him outraged. "Oh no darling I am not the five you know. I am coming out of a different timeline, but wouldn't you like to sit as I explain?", he asks politely. Like it was the most normal thing I go to sit with him at one of the diner tables, ignoring the fact that at least twenty versions of my boyfriend were looking down at me. As we sit down the Five on the counter rushed to our table.

"The black coffee, cappuccino and the chocolate croissant will be on your table soon", he stumbles, while looking at me. "How...?", I begin to ask but he was faster gone than I could blink. I feel more comfortable now as I saw how the attention was no longer drawn to me. "Explain, now", I demand as I was staring the Five before me down. "Feisty, as I remembered you", he says. I can't help myself but smile a little bit. "Why are there so many of you? And why was the one so obsessed", I ask. He crocked his neck. "We are all different Fives, out of different timelines. Most of them lost their Y/n, that's why things got out of hand", he explained. "So your five cheated on you? That's new, none of us did that, guess a new timeline has formed. Why would he do that...?", he asks himself.

I was shocked, overdosed with unimaginable information. "So what happened to your Y/n?", I ask him, just releasing I went to far. "She died in a fight, Hazel shot her", he says. "Five over there, who said you were his. She killed herself", he explains some more. I can't believe what he was just saying. "I would never do such a thing", I say. "No. Yourself in this timeline wouldn't but the on in his did. It's the same with us, we are all the same but different at the same time. I would never cheat on you and that's the point", he looks down on the floor. "I will find him don‘t worry, he will pay for what he did", he says while my eyes get big. "No... no he's still my Five I...", I try to bring the words out of me.

"Darling...", he leans over the table looking me staring into the eyes. "You have no idea what most of the Fives in here would do for you. Every single one of us is better as this little small cocked asshole", he says. I get nervous and have trouble looking him into the eyes. "He doesn't have a small...", I try to say. "I know I know...", he interrupts me.

Let me know what you think in the comments!

#reader #smut #request #Five #Five Hargreeves #Hargreeves #TUA #tua #Five hargreeves #Diego #Five x reader #Five Hargreeves x reader #x reader #Five Har

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beloveds-embrace · 1 month ago

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DukeDom Poly!141

So, in one of the things (Simon and pleasure), you mentioned boudoir paintings…

OMFG I CAN JUST IMAGINE HIM MAKING ALL OF THEM DO ONE, I bet you he hangs them in his room. OH OH OH! also, I bet Simon can draw skjsudisndh 😭😩! HED SIT DOWN WHILE ONE OF THE OTHERS IS GOING AT IT WITH THEIR DUCHESS AND JUST DRAWS IN HIS CHAIR ON THE SIDE 😩😩. Reader laying on her back or ass up in the air, all sweaty and glowing while one of the boys goes at her in bliss and Simon just drawing her from the side lines… 😫🤭😩

Also, can I be 🪭 anon?

Dukedom 141 masterlist

God, Simon painting them himself? Absolutely yes.

He’d do sooo many paintings of you, it’d be concerning if you could actually think past the pleasure that clouds your mind. He has you in so many different lingeries, things that make you turn warmer than a furnace and your men’s eyes darken with want; silks and laces that snag around your soft skin, garter belts that frame the length of your thighs, custom panties with nothing more than a neat, glowy string of pearls to line your cunt with a matching jewelry set.

Simon dresses you himself, and none of the men say anything against it; he is in his element, drawing the stockings up your legs and kissing your ankles along the way, big hands carressing your calves. He takes his time lacing up your corsets and bras, kissing up your spine, cupping your tits in his big, warm hands and kneading and groping until your nipples are stiff enough for his liking, for what he needs to do his painting, and you have that lovely, desperate and needy expression on your face.

Simon may do the painting, but to him, the scene itself is art: you, you, you. Face down and ass up, bared to his gaze and brushes while Kyle keeps your hips up with a hand under your belly and three fingers pumping in and out of you, your noises, sweet moans and cries, a background melody with Kyle whispering praises into you ear until Simon can see how well you cream around those thick fingers.

Art, that’s what you truly are. No painting will ever truly capture your beauty, but still, Simon tries-

And that means he also has you in so many different poses. Another day, another lingerie sets, teeth marks indented over your body, your ankles and calves, while Johnny keeps you pinned and spread with his body. Simon focuses on your straining muscles, your pretty painted nails raking down Johnny’s back and leaving behind angry red lines that don’t compare to the way he pistons into you, your pretty cunt stretched around him and your combined cum drenching the bed. Your legs, adorned in heels Simon specifically got for you, shake and tremble, your pleasure visible and audible to all.

And John… Simon doesn’t think he’s ever seen a better seat for you than his face. You look perfect, twitching and whining, your hair and makeup a mess of a canvas, John’s hands around your hips like unbending snakes. He’s made you cum so many times, your nub swollen and sensitive under his heavy tongue, you’ve soaked his beard, his face, his neck- and yet he doesn’t stop. A queen has no reason to leave her seat, no? And yet it’s your expression that has Simon fixated, the way you look around, look at him as if you want to beg him to save you or join you. Maybe both.

Simon paints each and every one. Moments frozen in his paintings, never comperable to the real thing, and yet adored all the same.

(And you stare at the finished paintings with awe, in spite of your blush. The way he’s drawn you… you never knew you were seen so beloved.

You turn back to Simon, bejeweled fingers wrapping around his cravat, and pull him close to kiss the corner of her lips. Your men continue to admire the paintings, but you are focused on the painter.

“I want one of you and I, Simon my love.”)

First time writing smut (if this can even be considered that 💀😭)

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gumified · 9 months ago

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hate sex with toji fushiguro

content: fem!reader, mean!toji, big dick!toji, degradation, dirty talk, fingering, overstimulation

note: no clue why but tumblr hates me and won't let me add images so i don't have any dividers TT

arguments are annoying. arguments with toji, however, are more than annoying. they’re a living nightmare. the guy’s already an asshole and add the fact he has the ego the size of an elephant, he became unbearable. the two of you got into arguments often because you hate each other's guts and every single time he had to ensure that he was in the right and you weren’t. not to mention that the two of you were roommates and you were expected to go home everyday to face him.

the argument this time was stupid and dumb in every possible way. you were angry about him leaving his clothes everywhere and he got mad at you for being a ‘nagging witch’ as he called you. the shouting then started and you were sure the neighbours were very tired at the constant screaming that came from your apartment.

one minute you’re shouting at each other and the next you’re lunging at each other and ripping your clothes off. the intensity of the moment overtakes any sense of rationality. your lips collide with his and he hungrily mashes his face against yours. toji’s hands roughly rip your blouse apart, groaning when he catches sight of the red lacy bralette you have on. you push him against the wall, your lips never leaving his, and he responds with a ferocity that matches your own. his hands are everywhere, exploring every inch of your body, igniting a fire that consumes you both. toji’s fingers are tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as his mouth moves feverishly against yours. your own hands are not idle, tearing at his shirt, exposing the sculpted muscles beneath.

“like what you see, fushiguro?”

“fucking love it.” he growls, tugging your jeans off and pushing you down on the couch. he lifts his shirt over his torso and you marvel at his muscular body. everything about him is so seductive and you feel your panties grow wet, sticking to your folds. his breath is hot against your neck as he trails rough kisses down to your collarbone, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sends shivers down your spine. you gasp, your nails digging into his back, earning a low growl from him that reverberates through your entire body. “gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk.”

you scoff as he climbs on top of you. “yeah right.”

“don’t believe me doll?” toji’s voice is deep and husky, each word dripping with lust. his fingers press to your core making you squirm. he knows exactly the right buttons to push to make you unravel into a pile of moans beneath him but you refuse to please him with your noises, keeping quiet. “why’re you keeping silent angel?”

you don’t answer and it angers him even more. toji shoves his fingers into you and you bite your lip hard. he smirks, thrusting his digits in and out of you, making it harder for you to keep everything in. your pussy’s growing wetter as the lewd sounds fill your ears and you lift your hips for him to reach deeper. each time he thrusts them in you feel more drawn into the pool of desire that he's creating, the one that sucks you in and never lets you go.

a blissful feeling shoots through your body and a moan finally slips past your lips when he curls his fingers. toji grins, satisfied with the way you wriggle around. he scissors you open, fingers stretching out your tight core and each time he does you squirm against his grasp.

"that's it." he says, kissing your neck. "that's it baby, moan for me doll, such a filthy slut, you’re dripping all over my fingers." he leaves marks and you feel him suck at your neck, lightly nipping the flesh. you're more than happy to let him and you lean your head back, giving him a bigger canvas to litter his dark purple paint.

your orgasm is fast approaching and you can't say anything before his fingers are ripped away from you and he replaces it with his cock. toji slams down on you, the tip of his cock reaching your cervix and you scream. he’s so so big and you aren’t given any time to adjust to his sheer size as he starts fucking you with carnal desire. you let out a strangled sob, clawing at his back, nails digging into his taut muscles.

"f-fuck you." you pant, hands gripping his biceps to stop you from sliding up and down from the force of his thrusts. "you're an asshole fushiguro."

toji groans, sweat dripping down his forehead, continuing to pound into you. "and you're a brat."

curses leave both of your mouths, sometimes directed at each other or sometimes directed at the pleasure both of you are feeling. either way, you're feeling like you're riding a euphoric train straight to heaven, not that you'll ever tell toji that. his low grunts make you whine as you call his name repeatedly. his cock feels so good around you, throbbing around your walls as you suck him in.

there's something about the way his hair falls into his eyes that makes your hands reach to knot them into his dark locks. toji hisses at the slight pain but he doesn't stop instead he goes faster. everything about toji fushiguro makes you go crazy and with his cock thrusting in you with no mercy, it only increases your frenzy.

"shit, hnghh, don't do that fushiguro." you moan when he hits a particular spot inside you which makes your body jolt. toji smirks and he positions his hips, slamming into the exact place again. he smiles innocently at you.

"what, this?”

"yes! o-oh my god…yes yes yes, toji r-right there!" you shout, feeling your whole body tingling with your release coming soon. "fuck!"

it comes so quickly and you feel yourself drowning in your orgasm, the way the feeling overtakes your body. there's a sharp sensation that slowly spreads across your body and you bask in the feeling of having your release. it doesn't last long because toji's still pounding into you, a low animalistic growl leaves his throat.

"who told you that you could cum?" you gulp, realising what you’ve just done. his eyes darken and he fucks you harder, hips snapping to yours. “fucking whore, you never listen do you? can’t ever be an obedient little girl f’me, fucking pain in the ass.”

your cum leaks out of you and his cock makes your pussy a mess. you're still super sensitive and at the rate that he's thrusting into you, you're going to cum again. toji moans as he pounds into you, throwing his head back and his hands squeeze your ass. you sob at the overstimulation, tears escaping your eyes as you whine and whimper under toji.

“‘m sorry, ‘m sorry toji- just felt so good, ‘m sorryyy.” your incessant babbles echo through your apartment as you feel your mind blank as his cock bullies into your pussy.

"yeah? you should be sorry slut, always fuckin’ nagging, need to fill you with my cum so you keep quiet."

you whine feeling your body grow hotter under his touch. you feel yourself nearing your second orgasm and you know toji's close too by the way his thrusts are even quicker. a series of moans leave both of your lips and you feel his cock twitch inside of you before his load is dumped. warm cum spreads throughout your pussy, coating every inch of your gummy walls and you feel yourself overflow with cum. your orgasm wracks through your body too, this one more powerful than the other and you find yourself crying out his name, chanting it like a mantra.

the feeling's all too much and toji collapses into you making sure not to squeeze you too hard. you can feel every abdominal muscle through skin to skin contact. his breath fans across your neck, hot and ragged. you run your fingers through his hair, feeling the damp strands against your fingertips.

"you know what this means y/n?" you look at him confused and he smirks. "means i can finally fuck you in that bathroom."

#jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #smut #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #jjk headcanons #jjk x you

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y2karasu · 27 days ago

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All I wanna spend is one more night // Between your sheets, behind your eyes

Karasu Tabito x Fem!Reader • Word Count: 4.5k

content warnings: established relationship, porn with little plot, lover boy karasu, reader has an aversion to sex kinda sorta, first times, loss of virginity, mutual masturbation, handjob, multiple positions, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare

You met Karasu Tabito in year three. He had chubby cheeks and a missing tooth, knees dirty from falling into the muddy ground many times over as he rhythmically kicked the school’s worn soccer ball at the wall.

He was sweeter then, face flushed red when you handed the ball gone astray back to him, lisp on his tongue from where his adult tooth hadn’t quite grown in.

It’s hard to forget the twinkle in his eye when he shyly whispered “Thank you,” before scampering back to his spot. It’s natural, the way you fall into each other’s lives. Transferring to a new school during the middle of the year had done little to help your social life. Cliques already made; friends grown up side by side. While your classmates weren’t mean, they did little to include you. Recess consisted of you building little homes out of sticks you’d find scattered throughout the play yard, gritty nails digging into dirty as you play. After your first interaction, you gravitate towards another. You move to be closer to watch his kicks, and he makes his way down the wall to tease you. Calls you weird and then cries when you throw the ball in his face. Sniffles a weak, “Sorry,” before asking if you can be friends. You agree despite your previous disdain, keeping track of his hits in the dirt with the sticks he collects for your work. Red strings drawn close, tangled in mud and sticks and leaves.

The first time Karasu kisses you, you’re in year ten. He’d walked you home like he always did despite it being out of the way for him. His ears turned crimson when he shyly asked if you wanted to go to the arcade together, scarlet when you looked at him confused because you always do. He wins you a bunny plushy and makes you swear to keep it forever, holding out a pinky to you. You link the appendages before pressing your thumbs together, and as you move to press a kiss to your own nail to seal it, he moves your hand down abruptly.

Chapped lips meet yours in an awkward attempt at a kiss, and you pull back violently at the action.

“Why would you do that,” you’d asked haughtily, hands on your hips as you scowl up at him.

“Cuz you’re my girlfriend.” Karasu had replied matter of factly.

“Since when? You never asked me to be,” you grump, finger poking accusingly at his chest, “you can’t just go kissing girls and claiming them to be your girlfriend without even asking.”

You’d expected a snarky come back from him as he usually generously bestows upon you, but instead he scratches his neck shyly and asks quietly if you’d want to be.

“Speak up.” You demanded.

“Would you?” He finally asked, uncharacteristically nervous, “Be my girlfriend?”

You stave off the embarrassment coursing through you, a faux air of confidence burning through your veins.

“Well,” you finally say, “if you insist.”

You fight and you squabble and you cry and lick old wounds once more, but you stay together throughout it all. Tabito dabs at your tears and kisses fresh wounds with a soothing tongue, always making sure you know with full confidence he’s at your side.

Truth be told there wasn’t much of a difference as friends than lovers; albeit your touches grow more intimate.

Tabito insists you’d been his girlfriend since you’d chucked the soccer ball in his face back when you were both snot nosed children, and well, you can’t find it in you to argue. A part of you had always been his, and you’re sure if you were ever to split, it would always stay with him. A seed buried deep in your ribs, watered by the brashness of his love.

It would be dramatic to say that when he left for Blue Lock, a small part of you died. Autumn leaves dry and fall; yet we celebrate their beauty. You still see your friends and make sure to stay steady in classes, but you can’t deny you miss Tabito.

Ironically, it’s around spring time when he returns. He takes you to see the cherry blossoms bloom and tells you he’ll love you until his legs give out.

(To which you tell him that it’s likely enough to happen sooner than later with a sport like soccer; cackling loudly when he grabs fallen blooms and tosses them promptly in your face.)

You both turn twenty-one together; celebrating just the two of you in the small run down apartment you now share. You kiss and you eat sweets until your stomach aches, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

(The day of moving in Tabito finds the old plushy wrapped delicately in a blanket.

“You still have this ratty thing?” He’d asked with a smirk, holding it out to you.

“Don’t talk about our son like that,” you scold, snatching the plush from his hands before smiling down at it lovingly, fingers brushing the worn fabric of its ears.

“And of course I kept him, I promised you, didn’t I?”

Tabito smiles widely at this, scooping you in his arms and kissing you obnoxiously as you squeal and shout for him to let you go.)

It’s not until you’re out eating lunch with friends that you truly think about it; sex with Tabito. It’s not that you don’t want to have sex with him. You’re well aware your boyfriend is handsome, you’d just never got around to it.

(Your friend’s jaw drops when you say this, shaking her head in disbelief.

“You haven’t done anything.”

“I gave him a handjob once,” you’d replied with a shrug of your shoulders.

Your friend scoffs in disbelief, but thankfully drops the topic, but you can’t help but let the seeds of doubt whittle their way into the sanctuary you’d built with Tabito.)

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

It’s an ordinary Saturday morning when you spring the question. You’d been thinking of roundabout ways to ask, but you’d never been good at subtly and you know Tabito prefers when you’re blunt with him.

He splutters on the drink he’d been taking, cleaning his throat before looking at you incredulously.

“Do I… what?”

“Do you want to have sex? Make love, copulate, fuck, the hanky—”

He cuts you off before you can finish your sentence, moving to stand in front of you with red ears.

“No, I know what you said. This was just… unprompted. Do you want to have sex with me?”

You cross your arms and huff, ignoring the cheeky smirk on his face as he steps closer to you. There’s a buzzing energy you’ve never quite felt stirring in the room, and you sway from one foot to another with nerves.

“I asked you first,” you respond lamely, looking at him straight in the eyes in a poor attempt to keep up your confident facade.

“Yes, of course I do. Why wouldn’t I want to have sex with you?” Tabito answers honestly, large hands prying your fingers away from where they’d been digging into the fat of your arm in anxiousness. He kisses the heel of your palm softly before wrapping your arms around his neck and bumping his forehead lightly against yours. When you still don’t respond he gives you a boyish smile before attempting to soothe you.

“If we’re being honest, it’s not something I thought you were interested in,” he explains, “you’ve always shied away when I’ve tried to touch you in the past, and that stuff doesn’t matter to me. I love you as you are now, sex won’t change that.”

You frown in thought at his words, fingers threading through his freshly washed hair as you contemplate.

“Have you ever had sex before?”

Tabito laughs at that, presses obnoxious slobbery kisses to your cheek before answering.

“You know I haven’t.”

“Well then how do you know you’re not missing out?”

“I mean I still masturbate, can’t be that much different.”

Your body heats with embarrassment (and perhaps a bit of something else at his vulgar words).

“Well it’s surely better. Tighter probably… and wetter. Or whatever.”

Heat blooms on Tabito’s face as he hugs you close to him, shoving his face in your neck to hide his blush (it doesn’t work, you can feel the heat on his face and see the crimson flushing his ears).

You press closer to him and kiss at the junction of his neck and shoulder lightly before furrowing your brows and pulling back.

“Are you… hard right now?”

A smug smile creeps on his face, and you have an overwhelming urge to kiss it off.

“Can you blame me? My beautiful, gorgeous girlfriend just propositioned me with sex and told me how she’d feel tighter and wetter than my own hand.”

You scoff at his words before picking at the lint on the neck of his shirt.

“So… you want to then?”

He smiles sickeningly sweet down at you, walking you backwards and guiding you to your shared bedroom.

“I do, but I want you to want it too. Don’t think you have to do this because of me.”

“I do, want to, I mean. But I don’t know what I’m doing.”

He laughs softly at this, turning to sit on the bed and pull you into his lap, familiar hands rubbing up your sides soothingly.

“Neither do I,” he replies easily, pressing a kiss to your cheek and then your pouted lips.

“But you just said you masturbate.” You frown, settling deeper into his lap as he maneuvers you into a more comfortable position, his back pressed against the head of your bed.

“I do.” Tabito’s smile is shy, fingers tracing the familiar lines on your palms as you speak.

“So you’ve watched porn, so you know some things.”

He pauses in his movements, looks at you incredulously before laughing.

“I’ve never watched porn. I just think about what I would do to you. What you’d do to me.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” he mocks, teeth nipping at your nose as you scrunch it.

“Can you show me?”

Tabito’s movements halt, hips shifting nervously under you as you stare wide eyed at him, a face far too innocent for someone who just asked him to stroke his cock in front of them.

“Only if I can watch you, too.” He finally says after clearing his throat.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

You’re almost offended at the shock on his face, but have little time to register before he’s flipping the two of you over, switching your positions.

“Have you touched yourself before?” He asks, hands helping you wiggle out of the sweats you’d stolen from him back in high school.

“Yes,” you answer honestly, pulling your shirt over your head.

A shiver runs down his spine at your words, cock straining in his sweats as you leave each other in only your undergarments.

“Shouldn’t we like… kiss or something?” You ask shyly, fingers picking at your nail beds.

Tabito laughs softly before spreading your legs, and pressing as close to you as he can so he can sit between them, eyes flickering from your chest to your eyes.

“How about you tell me,” he says, “tell me what you think about when you touch yourself.”

You shy away at this, whining when his large body stops you from being able to close your legs; the exposure too much.

“Why are you so shy, baby? I’ve seen you naked before, you know?”

“I know but this is… different.”

Tabito presses a reassuring kiss to your lips, teeth nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. There’s a smirk on his face when you lean to chase him for more, hands making their way down your thighs as he soothes the tense muscles.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he whispers breathlessly, the heat of his words caresses your face, sends a shiver down your spine as he pulls away to palm his cock.

“I- I think about that night,” you finally squeak out, “when you let me touch your cock.”

(Moonlight shone brightly through the room that night, the lewd sound of Tabito’s mouth licking at the fat of your neck filling the liminal space. Big hands dug crescents into your skin, breaths heaving as you part for air. There’s a pause when you shift forward and feel the length of his cock beneath his sweats. Tabito eyes you warily, opening his mouth to assure you that you don’t have to do anything.

He’s cut off by his own moan, hips bucking up into you as you palm his cock.

“Baby,” he whines, head falling back against the headboard with a thunk.

“Can I touch you?” You ask sweetly, eyes entranced at the sight of pleasure watching over Tabito’s features at your featherlight touch.

He nods frantically, aiding you in pulling the sweats down to rest on his thighs. You press your mouth to his, licking against his teeth before sucking his tongue into your mouth. Tabito whimpers at this, neglected cock twitching. You pull back with hooded eyes, spitting down onto the leaking tip before using the palm of your hand to spread it over his tip, wrapping around his cock before giving an experimental tug.

“Like that?” You ask, eyes darting up to look at him.

“God— yeah, just like that, baby,” he whines, hands fisting his hair as your movements speed up.

You keep your eyes trained on his face despite his eyes being scrunched shut, watching the way his jaw clenches when you grip him harsher, the way it falls open shortly after when your thumb traces along the tip of his cock.

“Don’t stop,” he says through gritted teeth, hip bucking wildly into your hand as his high approaches.)

“Don’t stop,” Tabito groans loudly, heel of his palm pressing harshly against his boxer shorts, dark spot seeping through with precum.

His obvious arousal has you wishing for more, more noises, more skin, more, more, more.

“I think about the way you sounded, how you moaned my name when I rubbed my palm on the head of your cock.”

Your hand makes its way down to your cunt subconsciously, fingers ghosting over the band of your panties before Tabito’s stops you.

“Not yet,” he instructs, “just— touch yourself through them, please.”

You do as he says, fingers pressing against your clit. You moan at the contact, rough fabric catching just right. You feel the way your arousal seeps through your panties, high on power as you watch the way Tabito’s eyes dilate when he takes in the sight.

“Keep going,” he encourages, “tell me more.”

“I think about how big your cock felt in my hand, think about it stretching me open,” you whine, fingers moving faster, Tabito’s own matching the rhythm you’ve set, “I— I think about what you’d taste like, if you’d let me put it in my mouth, how you’d sound when I choke on it.”

Tabito moans out loud at this, hand sliding down the front of his boxers before pulling his weeping cock out. You take this as your sign to follow, eyes narrowing in on the way his fingers flex as he strokes himself.

“I wanna hear, too,” you whimper, fingers pulling your panties to the side so he can see how wet you are for him, the tips dipping into your heat to gather your slick before moving back to circle your clit.

“You’re killing me, baby,” Tabito groans, hips bucking up into his own hand as your chest heaves with pleasure.

He remains quiet for a while, the only sounds in the room is the wetness between the two of you, bodies inching closer and closer until you can feel his hand against your own.

“I think about the way you’ll taste on my tongue,” he says, voice husky with arousal, “the way your pussy will feel when she’s stretched open for the first time.”

You press a finger into yourself at this, hips canting up at the intrusion. Tabito groans at the sight, timing his thrusts into his hand with the way you fuck yourself on your fingers.

“T-think about the way you sounded that night, when you let me fuck your hand,” he groans through gritted teeth, “the way you talked to me… the way you licked my cum off your hand afterwards, how it tasted when you kissed me.”

“Please, Tabito,” you finally break, hands moving to pull his face towards your own, lips crashing messily against each other as you claw at the exposed skin.

He pulls you into his lap, cock jumping as your pussy presses against him. You can’t help but moan at the friction, humping his cock as you gasp and cry out for more.

“I don’t want to wait anymore, need you inside me,” you whine, but make no movements to stop the current pace your hips have set, your wetness pooling down onto the base of his cock as you use him for your own pleasure.

“Cum like this first,” he pleads, hands pressing you down harder, “cum like this and I’ll give you my cock. Stretch this pretty pussy open, make it mine.”

You cry out as you fall over the precipice of pleasure, hands clawing at his chest while your hips buck desperately into him.

“One more,” he says, pushing you until your back hits the mattress.

His lips press harshly into yours, tongue licking at your teeth as you whine into his mouth. He pulls away to kiss at your neck, teeth nipping at the familiar skin while his hands smooth up your sides. Your bra is quickly taken off, tossed somewhere in the room before his hands are back on you. Teeth bite harshly at the fat of your chest, tongue soothing the ache before you can whisper a complaint.

“You’re so sensitive here,” he says, eyes transfixed on the way your breathing increases as he blows on your nipple. Tabito flicks his tongue over it, testing the waters and you moan loudly at the sensation.

“So good for me,” he murmurs, his hands pulling your legs to wrap around his waist. Instead of the heat of his cock pressing against you, his abdomen is pressed to the flesh, “I bet I can make you cum from just this. Just this.”

His mouth wraps around your nipple sucking harshly before moving to the next, your hips buck at the sensation, and he presses closer so the rigid muscle of his stomach presses against your aching clit. Calloused hands encourage the movements, hips bucking wildly as you hump his abdomen in abandon.

“Tabito,” you whimper, “please, please, please.”

Your hands fist his hair harshly, pressing his mouth firmly against your chest as his tongue rolls your sensitive chest between kiss swollen lips. Tabito doesn’t bother stopping, if anything he moves you faster, bites harder, kisses soothing the ache until another high crashes down on you.

“You’re so sexy,” he murmurs, mostly to himself, “can’t believe I finally have you like this.”

“I’m sorry for making you wait,” you finally whisper as your breathing evens out.

“Don’t apologize.”

His tone leaves little room for argument, and you nod obediently at his words, smile spreading across his face as he takes in the flush of your face.

Harsh kisses turn soft, and Tabito moves you once again to rest in his lap.

“This way you can go at your own pace,” he says, settling back into the sheets, eyes blown with lust staring up at you, “don’t take more than you can handle. If it hurts, we’ll stop.”

You nod in agreement, leaning to press a kiss to his lips before lining him up to your entrance. You’re wetter than you’ve ever been, hands shaking before his own moves to aide you.

“Look at me, please,” he asks softly, “I want to see your face when my cock stretches you out for the first time.”

You do as he instructs, eyes nearly rolling back when his tip presses past the tight ring of your cunt. Gasps of pleasure are shared between the two of you as you slowly work your way down, pulling up to ease the ache before you finally rest against him.

“What the fuck,” Tabito groans, teeth clenching harshly as your cunt clenches on him.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re so fucking tight,” he whines, fingertips digging harshly into the fat of your hips.

Your cunt clenches again at the filthy words, nails scraping down his chest as he bucks up into you.

“If you don’t stop doing that, I’m going to cum before I even get to fuck you,” Tabito says, chest heaving as he tries to maintain his level head.

You smirk down at him before intentionally shifting your hips, grinding down onto his cock. Tabito’s eyes dart open, eyeing you warningly.

Tabito senses your hesitation, propping an elbow beneath him. His hand cradles your face, thumb brushing against your cheek lovingly before he pulls your lips to his. His free hand moves to your hip, guiding you gently. It’s not long until you find your own rhythm, gasping into his mouth as his cock presses against a spot that makes you see stars.

“Right there,” you whine, “Tabito, please, don’t stop.”

Arm still propped up, Tabito pulls you back, fisting the hair at the nape of your neck. His lips wrap around your neglected chest, hips bucking up into you hitting that spot deep within you over and over until—

“Cumming!” You cry out, eyes rolling back as your pleasure consumes you. Tabito hips fuck into you faster, moving at a bruising pace to elongate your high. You slump against him as your orgasm fades, his fingers tracing absentminded shapes into your back as you heave against him.

“We can stop here,” he coos, lips pressing against your neck.

“No,” you say, shooting your head up to look at him, “I want you to cum.”

He smiles at this, pressing forward until you’re on your back. You whine at how deep his cock presses into you in this position, nails clawing harsh lines into his back as he wraps your legs around his waist.

Tabito pulls back out slowly, eyes darting over your face for any sign of discomfort before he’s snapping his hips harshly into yours. He fucks you hard— deep, carving his cock into your walls as you whine and cry out for him.

“Fuck,” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you use the leverage of your legs on his back to meet his thrusts with your own in desperation, “you feel so fucking good, baby. You hear that? Hear how wet this pussy is for me? She’s cryin’ for me, baby. Needed my cock to fill her up, stuff her full.”

Tabito pulls out suddenly, hand falling to his cock to squeeze at the base in an attempt to stave off his own orgasm. Before you can protest, you’re flipped over, limp body pulled onto your knees before you know what’s happening.

Fingers did crescents into your hips as he fucks you for his pleasure, grumbling moans falling from his lips.

“Just like that,” he whines, “just like that. Fuck yourself on my cock. Fuck it like it’s yours.”

He stops his own movements, hands fisting his hair as you press back against him again, and again, and again. You whine his name and his chest presses against your back instantly, large frame engulfing your own before you’re flat against the bed.

Tabito’s arms circle your front, cradling you to his chest as he humps into you, barely pulling out before he’s pressing back in again. Gasping moans are pulled from your lips at the angle his cock slides into you, drool slipping from your lip when he bites harshly at the junction between your neck and shoulder.

“Tabito,” you whine, “want you to cum. Please, please cum for me. Want you to cum inside me. I need it! I need it, I—

You’re cut off by a cry of your name, his hips pressing against yours as you feel the warmth of him filling you up.

You slump weakly against the bed, struggling to breathe as Tabito relaxes against you. He notices your squirming quickly, pulling you to rest on your side. You whine when his cock slips out of you, and heat burns a fire through your veins when you feel the way your combined essence drips down the side of your leg.

Soft words are murmured into your hair, hands massaging at your aches as you both come down from the intense pleasure.

“Still think your hand is better?” You ask, finally breaking the silence.

Tabito laughs, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck before loosening his hold so you can turn to face him.

“Not by a long shot.” He laughs at this, pressing sloppy kisses to your cheek just to hear you squeal out in protest.

“Tabito…”

“Yes, sweetheart?” He asks softly, propping himself up on his arm to look down at you properly, “Are you okay?”

You lean up to press a kiss to his lips reassuringly, nodding, “I’m okay, but… I can feel your cum dripping out of me right now.”

Tabito chokes out a laugh, blush rising on his face.

“You can’t just— just say things like that!” He whines, heat licking at his core.

“Like what? It’s true!”

He shakes his head at this, sliding his arm out from under you before standing and stretching. Dark red lines fill up the space of his back, and you smile shyly at the sight.

“Nice back, Karasu,” you tease, laughing when he uses the mirror hung on the back of the bedroom door to take in the sight.

“Babe,” he whines, “don’t make me get hard again.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

Tabito shakes his head at this before walking into the bathroom. He returns with a warm washcloth, pressing a kiss to your forehead before maneuvering you onto your back. There’s a smug smile on his face as he cleans you up, a soft kiss to your knee when you playfully knock it into his shoulder. He looks up at you from between your thighs smiling brightly at you.

“Hey,” you whisper.

“Hey yourself,” he says, moving his face to hover over your own.

“Come here often?” You ask, fingers tracing around his eyes before you lean to press a kiss to the mole resting just below the left.

“First time actually,” he laughs, flopping down onto your chest, nuzzling your neck to press soft kisses there.

“You’re so stupid,” you say with a roll of your eyes, fingers threading through his soft hair.

“I love you,” Tabito whispers, arms wrapping under the small of your back to hold you closer.

“I love you, too.”

#writing.bllk #cottoncalicoes #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #tabito karasu x reader #karasu tabito x reader #karasu x reader #bllk smut #blue lock smut #karasu smut

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defmaybe · 1 month ago

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last night's mascara

12 Days of Christmas: Day 11, January 4th, 2025

Dreamcatcher’s Lee Gahyun x Male Reader

3.1k words

Christmas Masterlist

What a boring ass party.

It’s the thought that has been lingering inside your head for the last two hours. The decorations? Daft. The song choice? Lame. The conversations? Rote. So, there you are, one hand on your phone, the other fiddling with your fingers restlessly. Should’ve bought Balatro when it was on sale.

You scroll your Twitter feed aimlessly, pressing likes on the fan sites’ pictures of your favorite groups—fromis_9, Red Velvet, (G)I-DLE. It’s the only way to escape this party without raising much suspicion.

Well, not until Gahyun notices you standing in the corner of your eyes.

“Not enjoying it?”

You almost drop your phone on the ground, good thing you can balance it with your hands.

“Shit, y–yeah,” you reply.

Gahyun giggles softly, covering her mouth with the glass of champagne in her hand. She’s in her red and white Christmas dress, one that shows off a lot—her shoulders, her legs, her ample cleavage. Fuck, she looks so tantalizing.

“So,” she says. She’s pulling you into a conversation. Abort. Abort. Abort!

“How was your day?” she asks, “Wait, oh my god, that was a terrible question. I’m sorry if it’s too plain for you.”

It’s over for you.

“No, no, it was–great. I’m fine,” you reply. “How are you?”

Gahyun chuckles. “A bit drunk, but still standing!” she says with a bright smile, twisting her foot coyly. God, she looks gorgeous.

You only shoot a smile back at her. You don’t know what more to say. It’s difficult for you to continue the conversation like this. You can’t do this.

“Hey,” she continues. You’re finished. “I can keep you company here if you want.”

She’s kind, but you’ll have to say no. You aren’t good enough to hold her right here. You don’t have anything to talk about!

“Ah, I–I appreciate that, but I don’t think you’d enjoy my company,” you decline, taking a sip of the champagne in your hand.

She giggles, and you fall victim to your own self-deprecation once again. You just can’t stop pushing people out, can you?

Fuck.

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself, come on!” she encourages. You’re taken aback by her enthusiasm to be with you. Is she really enjoying your company? Is it a dare? Is she just toying with you for her own entertainment?

“O–Okay, Gahyun,” you stammer.

The conversation begins at the expense of your solitude. It’s seemingly unending. You’re involuntarily dragged into an exchange with the talkative Lee Gahyun. However, you’re slowly dragged into her charismatic presence. You’re somehow not stuttering anymore? Goodness gracious! She’s a good talker. She’s a good listener. She’s genuinely comforting to be around.

“So–speaking of music, have you been listening to anyone recently? Well, outside of k-pop, it’ll be too boring,” Gahyun asks.

You contemplate a bit before you answer, “Well, I’ve been listening to Gracie Abrams a lot lately. Do you know her?”

“Gracie Abrams–hmm–is she the one who opened for Taylor Swift?”

“Yeah!” you happily answer. She’s really full of knowledge. “I started listening to her a few years ago. Quality can be choppy sometimes, but I still like her a lot.”

“I’m sure she’s great,” she says with a giggle. “That’s why you’re drawn to her.”

You can only chuckle at her warm words. God, she really knows how to reel you in.

“What about you? Who have you been listening to?” you ask her the same question back. Normally, you’d be beating yourself up for not changing the question, but with Gahyun, it feels like you don’t have to worry about anything.

Gahyun laughs, cutely covering her mouth while doing so. “Well, mostly Billie Eilish, her new album. Have you heard it yet?”

“Oh, yeah! I love Birds of a Feather a lot. Wait, let me guess yours–uh–” you pause, trying to guess her favorite from the album.

Gahyun adoringly smiles, waiting for your guess. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the light, but, fuck, are you having a crush on her?

“Chihiro?”

“Aww~ that’s close! It’s actually my second favorite,” Gahyun says, pouting cutely. You can only awkwardly giggle along to cover the embarrassment from the mistake.

“I actually love Lunch the most, to be honest,” she says. “Makes me click my heels, you know?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean–I also like Lunch, but–uh–it’s just not as sad as Birds of a Feather.”

“Oh. Oh! Well, that’s definitely interesting!” Gahyun says. “So, you like sad songs? Do you like–uh–have any to recommend to me?”

You give her a few songs. She nods in acknowledgement. The exchange continues into the night. It flows so lively that you get lost in her charm, over and over again. You find out about her dog at home—Bae. You find out that she loves pineapples on pizzas. You find out that her favorite TV show is Goblin (yes, that Goblin).

As it goes on, you can’t help but steal glances at her body, even if you know how inappropriate that is. You’ll use the opportunity when she looks away to take in the view of her ample cleavage or her meaty thighs. She looks so good, so deli–

“Hey,” she derails your train of thoughts. “Did you just–stare at my tits?”

Your eyes widen in shock. You didn’t realize that you’ve been looking at her for a little too long. Your hands tremble in fear of getting called out. You should say sorry, now!

“F–Fuck, I–I’m so s–sorry, Gah–”

“Zip it,” she cuts you off, putting her index finger on your lips. “I don’t want excuses.”

Tears start to form in your eyes. You’re being mentally cornered by Lee Gahyun, the company darling. God, you’re beyond fucked. Your whole life is being undone because of a slip. Fuck.

Then, she whispers into your ear.

“Meet me at the women’s bathroom in five minutes.”

You nod with your eyes closed slowly, before she departs from you, giving you the view of her hips swaying before disappearing into the crowd.

—

The women’s bathroom smells of air purifier, it’s taken care of well. It’s brightly lit. You find Gahyun standing in the middle of the room—arms crossed, tapping her foot. She’s waiting for you.

“Come here, lock the door,” she orders, gesturing you to her. Her voice is much, much more stern than in the ballroom, but there’s also–something else. Is she mad at you, or is it something else?

The door clicks shut, leaving the bathroom only for you two. You slowly walk towards Gahyun, who’s looking at you expectantly.

The air thickens with anticipation. The silence is heavy. You’re stuck in the bathroom with Lee Gahyun. She doesn’t seem too pleased with your presence here, but why would she be calling you here, then?

“So,” she starts. You close your eyes shut in fear. “Anything to say before we start?”

You shake your head vigorously, hoping that the admission would lessen the punishment directed at you.

You hear a wicked laugh, as she starts to circle around you. Your body trembles in fear. Fuck, what is she going to do with you. Is she going to beat you up? Is she going to berate you?

“Are you sure that you’ve locked the door?” she asks from behind you. You can feel her breath on your neck. It’s terrifying.

“Y–Yes, Gahyun,” you stammer out.

“Good. Now, take off your pants,” she orders sternly. Wait, this isn’t going where you’ve expected.

“Wait, do you want me to–”

“Take off your pants, yes,” she finishes your sentence without any hesitation. Determination shines in her eyes.

“O–Okay?” you utter, before reluctantly unbuckling your belt. It’s so hard to come off when your hands are literally shaking like this. Your breathing becomes erratic with each second that passes by.

“Faster,” she sternly commands into your ear. Her warm breath touches your skin, eliciting goosebumps everywhere. Your hands quickly take off your trousers as she orders, leaving your lower body in your boxers. The outline of your erection becomes visible under them.

“Good,” she says, the warmth of your hand emanating into your firm ass. “Now, if you’d show me what you’ve been hiding under this–garment.

You immediately comply with her order, sliding down your tight boxers in a hasty motion. Your hard cock springs free from its confinement. It twitches in the anticipation of what’s to come. Gahyun presses into your body from the back, making your ass touch her warm crotch. Her perfume pervades your nostrils, making your legs wobble like jelly.

“Hmm, excited, aren’t we?” she coos. Her right hand reaches from the back to tease you. She leaves just a little space between her hand and your cock. You wish you could just grab her hand and make her touch your hardness right now, but that’s not how you play this game. You can only wonder how Gahyun can hide this side for so long—the side that dominates the shit out of you.

“Do you want me to touch it? Say it.” Her hot breath brushes against your ear, teasing you, pushing you towards the limit.

“Y–Yes, I want you to touch it, Gahyun,” you utter, mind going all haywire from the sheer intensity of her body warmth against your back.

You hear Gahyun giggle mischievously from the back, before her hand latches onto your cock firmly, making you groan in sheer ecstasy.

Slowly, she begins her dirty display on your cock. She lazily drags her hand up along your length, eliciting a shudder from you. When she’s at the top, she makes sure to take a swipe on the tip to make you moan. Your brain is now filled with nothing but her otherworldly handjob she’s giving. She feels so good.

You moan and whimper in her tight restraint, naked from below the waist. Her hands are slowly jerking you off with an unmatched mastery. Her smell is intense—her perfume, and something that’s explicitly her.

She slowly finds her rhythm, knowing when to pump, knowing when to swipe. She goes faster, eliciting guttural groans and whimpers out of you.

Your cock is being fondled by the company darling, and that thought alone sends you into rapture. She’s the same woman you see every day. She’s the same woman you’ve talked to. She’s the same woman who everyone loves. Now, she’s jerking you off in the women’s bathroom, making you moan and whimper.

Maybe it’s the sheer intensity of the situation, you can feel your loins tightening. Your body becomes rigid. Your breathing becomes erratic. You’re going to cum in Lee Gahyun’s hand!

“You know, I’ve been told a lot that I have nice lips,” she says. Her hands remain a little too eager to finish you off. It’s becoming too irresistible to cum right now. You can feel the tension rising within your loins. You do want more than her hand, indeed. That pair of lips are a little too tantalizing for you to not be on your cock—so plump, so pouty.

“F–Fuck, Gahyun, I–I’m gonna cum,” you utter. Time is running low, and you have to make her stop before you blow a load all over the bathroom floor and get short-circuited for the rest of the night.

Gahyun lets out another wicked giggle. “Say please, then.” She’s not going to stop so easily, not before you profusely beg her to.

“Nghhn~ p–please, Gahyun,” you plead, voice already shaking in the intense sensation.

“Again, and I’ll lift my hand off,” she teases, jerking you off even faster. Your mind is all hazy from the sheer pleasure you’re getting from her hand. Your blinking becomes rapid. Your vision becomes blurry.

“Nghh~ please, G–Gahyun.”

Gahyun suddenly removes her hand from your cock, leaving it twitching in the air. You sigh, as the tension slowly drops back to normal. You’re happy not to cum before you get to take on her mouth.

“Close one,” she says, letting go of you from her warm embrace. You feel like you can fully breathe for the first time in years. She was suffocating, but you won’t deny the pleasure she gave you, of course.

Gahyun slowly walks back to your front, putting the highlight of her next act for you to see—her lips, those dick-sucking lips. You and the guys have talked about this behind her back (well, behind everyone’s back) about how good her lips would feel on your cocks, head bobbing up and down in a hypnotic motion, bringing intense pleasure to whoever gets their dick sucked.

Now, it’s your turn.

Gahyun kneels, not without seductively swaying her wide hips as she goes down. Your cock twitches at the sight violently, so ready to be taken into her mouth.

“Say please, just like when I jerked you off,” she commands. She seems to know when to raise her voice and when to not.

“Please, Gahyun,” you utter, your voice all dry from the moaning and the internally burning desire.

The first contact is nothing short of divine. Gahyun starts slow. She starts by taking in just the mushroom tip into her mouth. She feels so warm, so tight, so right. Gahyun gives the underside of your cock a playful lick, making your body jolt in response.

She then begins her show, pushing herself further on your cock. It’s a lewd sight, really—the direct eye contact, the sound she’s making (it’s kind of a low, satisfied hum), the way she fondles your balls with her fingers. Pleasure just shoots through your body like a bullet. Without any restraints, you could just cum into her mouth right here and now. She pushes further and further, making you groan in pure bliss, until she starts to gag.

“Y–You don’t have to take it all, G–Gahyun.”

She says nothing, instead diving deeper onto your cock, all while using her tongue to play with the underside of your length. No woman has ever given you a blowjob as good as this—the deliberate movement, the will to gag, the pouty lips. Gahyun really has it all.

She keeps the eye contact intact, a reminder of her control. The gagging sounds she’s making don’t hinder her dominance by a little bit. She lets you know who’s in control here. It’s her and only her.

She finally pushes herself up to the hilt of your cock. She gags. She chokes. She sputters. Globs of spit leaks out of her mouth. Your head falls backwards from the pleasure. Her eyes are barely opening from the sheer size of your cock. You love this. You love the sounds she’s making. You love how she dominates the shit out of you. You love that she’s willing to suck you off like this (even if she’s the one in full control).

She stays there, gagging, choking, sputtering on your cock. She’s taking in the pungent scent of you, judging by the way she takes a deep breath through her nose. Her lips look so good on your cock like this. The base of your length becomes saturated by her red lipstick and spit. Streaks of black mascara run down her cheeks. You’re revelling in it. You’re revelling in the sight.

“G–God, G–Gahyun,” you utter.

With that, she slowly pulls back from your cock, leaving a trail of her rosy lipstick on it. Her eyes are fluttering violently with the thickness and length of you. She can barely breathe, and you’re loving it.

Instinctively, your right hand goes to the back of her head, tugging her hair to pull her out of the predicament called your cock. She gets to breathe again, and she quickly dislodges herself off you.

“Ah, y–you taste good,” she says, still trying to catch her breath. The marks from the earlier act are evident.

You say nothing, letting Gahyun catch her breath again, waiting for the time she can take in your cock once more. She breathes in, she breathes out, and finally, she’s ready again.

“I’m not holding back this time, alright?” she says, determination sparks inside her eyes.

“S–Sure.”

She grabs onto your cock with her right hand, pulling you close, before she takes your cock into her mouth. This time, it’s more violent, more fervent. She catches her rhythm and doesn’t look back. She starts to bob her head back and forth on your cock, and doesn’t that make you whimper like a bitch?

“Nghhh~ s–so good,” you mewl.

Gahyun only replies with a giggle on your cock. Her grip is still firm. Her free hand fondles your balls gently, trying to coax cum out of you.

She catches her rhythm, moving her head in a hypnotic motion. She really wants you to cum under her influence like this. You hear her gag. You hear her choke. You hear her sputter.

The tension in your loins starts to rise again. You’re on the verge of cumming with the help of the earlier handjob, and she doesn’t seem to stop at all. That’s it. You’re unloading your cum inside of Lee Gahyun’s mouth, making her taste your white essence.

“G–Gonna cum,” you utter.

Gahyun responds by going as rapidly as she can on your throbbing cock. The sensation is electric. It shoots through you like a bullet. The knot tightens, and you can do nothing to stop it.

With the final stroke, you unload your pent-up lust into Lee Gahyun’s throat, making her taste your essence. Your body jerks forward in pure pleasure. You let out a low, guttural groan at your precipice, unable to make sense of the situation. She lets out a satisfied hum as she feels your white, hot cum hit the back of her throat. You’re probably salty, like the other women have said.

You slowly come down from your peak, finally catching your rhythm again. Your cock’s spurts turn into soft drizzles off the slit. Gahyun pulls off of your cock with a loud pop. What an obscene sight. Her face is a fucking mess—mascara, lipstick, it’s all wrong. You’re still too dazed to say a thing, though.

“You taste good,” she says, opening her mouth, sticking her tongue out lewdly to show the emptiness of her wet cavern. She drank it all.

“I–I wanna do this again,” you involuntarily utter from the depths of your heart. “I want you to suck my cock again.”

Maybe it’s the sheer absurdity of your words. Maybe it’s the wake of your climax. She bursts out a laugh, a genuine one. You watch her laugh awkwardly.

“Ask me–ha–properly,” she says. “Will you, Lee Gahyun–”

“Will you, Lee Gahyun–”

“Suck–”

“Suck my cock again?”

She lets out a chuckle, before answering, “Definitely, maybe.”

—

#gahyun #dreamcatcher #gahyun smut #dreamcatcher smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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covenofagatha · 24 days ago

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Learning to focus (part 2)

Finally having an incentive to focus, you turn your project in two days early

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: GP Agatha, blowjobs, oral sex, sex, daddy kink, spanking

Taglist: @lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7 @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly

You finish your entire project by Tuesday.

The ten page paper had almost been the death of you, but every time your head dropped onto the table and you wanted to throw your laptop down the stairs, you just remembered how Agatha’s cock felt inside you and the heat in her voice when she promised you a reward.

And you had spent every night since your library encounter on Saturday with your hand between your legs imagining what those rewards would be. You didn’t even know you could cum as many times as you did, but each time an orgasm rolled over your body, you thought of her pounding into you against the table and you needed more.

You’d think you’d have worn yourself out by now. But as you walk across campus to get to Agatha’s classroom early, you can feel the heat already building up in your stomach, just at the promise of seeing her. You had picked out the short skirt you had worn on the first day of class – the same one Agatha had said she knew she had to have when she saw you wearing it. You can’t wait to see her reaction when she sees what’s underneath.

The memory, and the promise of even more, flushes through you and settles right in your pussy, and you sink your teeth into your lip so you don’t gasp at how it feels.

Someone on the sidewalk gives you a weird look and you ignore it. They’d be having the same reaction if their hot professor was about to fuck them again.

As you get closer to the building, your clit is practically throbbing. You’re almost embarrassed, but fuck, Agatha has put you under some sort of spell. She doesn’t even need to be close to you to take over your body and control you.

Just the thought of her is enough.

When you get to the classroom, you look through the glass slot in the door and a thrill runs through you when you see Agatha alone at the desk in the front of the room.

You don’t even bother knocking.

She looks up when you enter, an eyebrow raising as a knowing smile slides across her face. Fuck. Images of last Saturday rush through you, leaving a burning fire in their wake.

“I finished my project,” you rasp, suddenly unsure if you’re even walking correctly. Her stare is scrutinizing, raking over your body like she’s tracing every outline, and she smirks when she recognizes your skirt.

“Oh, did you?” She asks and pushes herself out of her chair. She’s wearing a white undershirt with a low cut and a striped blue suit. Her dark hair tumbles loosely over her shoulders and your mouth runs dry. “Finally learned how to focus, baby girl?”

You stumble and hit your leg on a desk. “Shit,” you groan and Agatha chuckles. She moves around to the other side of her desk and perches on the edge while you safely make it the rest of the way to her. You reach into your tote bag and take out the printed paper and the hand-drawn timeline about the Salem Witch Trials, all neatly stapled together, and hand it to her.

She winks and you shift from leg to leg while Agatha flips through your paper. She’s chewing on her bottom lip and you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have her mouth on yours, to suck on her tongue and have your moans swallowed by her.

Agatha gets to the third page and frowns, the lines on her forehead creasing. She turns around and grabs a red pen and scribbles something in the margins of your paper.

Well, okay then. You didn’t realize she was going to grade it right in front of you.

She keeps writing on the next pages, even more now, and your spirits fall deeper and deeper with each stroke of the pen. Did you really do that bad? You feel like you’re a decent writer, even if the subject is boring, and you had really tried on this.

Even if Agatha gives you a reward for turning it in early, you don’t even think you deserve it now. Or maybe she’s reading it and thinking that you’re just a dumb college kid and that fucking you was a mistake.

The door opens behind you and a handful of other students start trickling in for the class that’s about to start in a few minutes. You would’ve shown up earlier, maybe get a head-start on that reward, but you had a different class in the period before.

But now it would’ve just been awkward, so you’re a little thankful.

Agatha gets to the last page and writes something quickly before handing it back to you. You’re almost too ashamed to look at her but when your eyes apologetically flick up to hers, you see a glint in them.

“Nice work,” she says formally in case any of the other students are listening and you force a smile before rushing to your usual chair in the front row.

Agatha claps her hands for everyone to settle down and starts to give a reminder about the project that is due on Thursday while you begin flipping through your paper to see her feedback.

Your stomach is twisting, the feeling of possibly letting her down and getting a bad grade lingering over you, and you read her first note.

Your mouth drops open and you quickly shut it before anyone notices.

I can’t stop thinking about your pussy wrapped around my cock.

Fuck. Fuck. She didn’t – how are you supposed to sit here when it feels like your body is on fire and you’ve forgotten how to breathe? You look to the center of the classroom where Agatha is already watching you.

She gives a slight nod, imperceptible to anyone else, and your breath shudders before turning to the next page.

I wonder how your hot mouth would feel on me.

You have to squeeze your eyes shut from the visceral feeling that floods through you. Your body thrums with excitement, your heart pounding – can she hear it? She must be able to see the helpless state this has sent you into.

If you were wet before, that is nothing compared to the mess between your legs now.

Almost afraid to, you keep going.

Daddy needs to taste you, baby girl.

You clamp your legs shut and bite down on a finger before you make a pornographic noise. Would anyone really notice if you just slid your hand under your skirt? Maybe you could go to the bathroom – it would take less than two minutes at this point. A single touch to your clit could send you flying over the edge.

And then Agatha says your name and you physically jump in your seat. There’s a few kids snickering behind you and you look at Agatha with wide eyes, a foggy heat overwhelming your brain. She’s standing by the board, marker in hand, and a timeline is drawn.

“I asked if you would give us some information about the Salem Witch Trials,” she says and you blush at the implication that you were too zoned and entirely missed her question the first time.

You shake your head to try and get your thoughts collected, mind scrambling for any detail at all that you remember from your paper. “Um, well they started in 1692,” you start but she raises a hand to cut you off.

“Will you come up here and write it down? I’m making a comprehensive timeline of all the events you’re doing your projects on, and since you already finished, I thought you could lead us off.” Her voice is sugary sweet but you know exactly what she’s doing. And you know very well that other people have finished their projects early too.

But you can’t exactly say no, so you get out of your chair, wincing at the stickiness between your legs, and slowly walk to the front of the room. You tremble when she meets your eyes, only about a foot away, and the air is thick between you.

Agatha holds out the dry erase marker and you reach for it, but then you glance down at her lips just as her tongue darts out to lick at them, and you end up knocking the marker out of her hand.

“Oh, sorry,” you say and drop to your knees without thinking, grabbing the marker. You’re about to stand back up when you notice her.

Specifically, the hardness in her pants.

It steals all the breath from your lungs and you freeze, head tilting slightly to look up at her through your eyelashes. You can see her holding your stare, teeth gritted and her hand twitches like she wants to grab your hair.

Thankfully, you’re hidden behind her desk.

You look back at her cock and swear you see it pulse. You swallow hard, your clit throbbing in response, and force yourself to get off the ground and Agatha sharply inhales and steps back.

It gives you a newfound confidence, that even though you’re a soaking puddle for her, she is also affected quite a bit. Maybe just as much as you.

Your hand shakes a little as you write out the only three things you can remember from your ten page paper — that’s now sitting with some of the filthiest things written on it, courtesy of the professor barely a foot from you.

And one of the things is: the trials were deadly to the women accused of witchcraft by a group of young girls. A true testament to how little you’re able to form coherent thoughts right now.

Agatha starkly coughs and with a shock, you see that you wrote daddy instead of deadly. You swipe your hand across it to erase and fix it before any of your classmates see.

“Perfect, thank you,” Agatha says, the slight tremor in her voice and the bulge in her pants the only cracks in her composure.

Meanwhile, your legs are one naughty thought away from buckling under you and you think it might be obvious to everyone.

You hand the marker back to her and quickly go back to your chair, determined to get your mind under control.

She has someone else come up to the board and write about their topic while you watch and distractedly chew on your pen. Should you be taking notes? You look around and with a sigh of relief, you see no one else is either.

And when you turn back to the front, you accidentally catch Agatha’s eyes and holy fuck.

She has to know how obvious she’s being.

Her head is slightly tilted down but her stare is locked on you, pupils blown up and burning. She’s barely even breathing. You pause, pen between your teeth.

It’s like she wants to devour you. It’s like she’s imagining it. She’s supposed to be teaching, supposed to be the one who doesn’t lose control and takes what she wants smoothly, and yet she is openly fucking you with her eyes like that, for anyone to see.

You can’t hold the soft gasp that slips out of your mouth and without even noticing, your legs widen.

But Agatha notices — she tracks the movement with her hungry gaze and you see her lips part. You swallow hard, feeling suddenly bold, and you spread them just an inch more. When she looks back up at your face, your tongue darts out and licks up the pen cap.

It’s like all the air gets sucked out of the room, like there’s no one else in the room besides the two of you, even though the class is full.

Agatha raises an eyebrow, daring you to go on.

There’s no one sitting next to you, one person behind you, but they definitely won’t be paying attention when your right hand slips under your desk and rests on your upper thigh. You push the pen a little further into your mouth.

The student at the board finishes writing and hands Agatha back the marker and she barely looks at him before barking out another name to come up and fill their part in.

Your fingers inch up, dragging the hem of your already-short skirt up too, as you slouch further into your chair. It’s a dangerous game you’re playing, one you’re definitely not going to win, but fuck if it isn’t exhilarating to watch her struggling to remain professional. You hollow out your cheeks and suck on the pen and Agatha looks like she’s about to whimper.

And if that wasn’t enough, you open your legs just another inch and when her eyes flick down and she grabs onto her chair so tightly her knuckles look like they’re about to burst through her skin, you know she’s seen.

You’re not wearing underwear.

And while you’re sure you’ve completely soaked the bottom of your skirt, maybe the chair beneath you, and walking back to your dorm will be incredibly embarrassing, that moment made it completely worth it.

Agatha’s jaw is clenched so hard and the now-prominent vein in her forehead throbs. Her face twitches and she relaxes with a deep breath, her tongue sliding over her teeth under her top lip, and turns back to the board to comment on the student’s writing, suddenly very collected.

A shiver runs through you at the change – she’s going to make you pay for that. And it only turns you on more.

She doesn’t look at you the rest of class, leaving you to squirm in a wet prison of your own making, and when Agatha finally dismisses everyone, you don’t move.

The room is quickly empty other than you and her and she only turns her attention to you once everyone else is gone. She stalks toward you, akin to how a predator hunts its prey, and you breathe shallowly as she flips up your desk and slots it in next to the chair.

And then she takes your hand and holds it against her cock through her pants. Her rock-hard cock that is radiating enough heat you can feel it through your clothes.

You gasp.

“That’s right, baby girl,” she coos. “That’s what your little stunt did to me. And I think it’s only fair that you come back to Daddy’s office right now and help me with it.”

There aren’t even words to describe how desperate you’ve become; you furiously shake your head and she growls before yanking you up and out the door of the classroom.

She speeds through the halls and you have to practically run to keep up with her and you think – no, you know that she wants this just as much as you do.

And then she slams open the door and shoves you inside, whirling around and pressing you against it. Her mouth is on yours before you can even think of something to say, her lips moving roughly against yours, teeth clashing, tongues sliding against each other.

Agatha pants into your open mouth and you moan and she sucks on your tongue before biting on your bottom lip. Her hand buries itself in your hair and she pulls, the sting making you whimper.

She travels down your chin and then to your neck, nipping at your skin and leaving marks. A flash of heat hits you hard when you think about showing them off in her class on Thursday. A path of goosebumps follows when she licks up the expanse of your neck with her hot tongue and you writhe under her.

And then she steps back and you gasp, immediately missing her body against yours.

“Get on your knees,” she orders roughly and you don’t even hesitate. You assume the same position you were in earlier, only this time, you’re allowed to put your hands on her thighs and drag your cheek against the bulge in her pants, feeling it twitch against you. She swears above you and you smirk.

You pepper kisses along her cock through the fabric and she only lets you for a minute before she scrambles to undo her belt and unzip her pants. She moves to reach into them but you stop her with your hands, dipping into her underwear yourself and pulling out her cock.

It stands straight, bobbing slightly, and the vein is so prominent along the length. The tip of her is red and throbbing, droplets of liquid gathered at the top. Fuck.

As if in a trance, you lean forward and lick your tongue against the tip experimentally and Agatha moans gutteraly, fingers tangling into your hair. She says something that sounds a lot like please and you oblige, opening your mouth and sucking lightly on the tip. Her hips jerk and she makes another sound and you groan around her.

You take your time exploring, dragging your flattened tongue and lathering her cock up with your saliva all while it pulses every now and then and Agatha ruts her hips like she’s holding back.

“Baby girl, please,” Agatha begs, a thrill running through you, “Daddy needs you. Daddy needs your mouth.”

You’d never even imagine saying no. You open your mouth and relax your throat before slowly taking her heavy cock, bobbing your head back and forth and moving down a little further each time. Agatha babbles incoherently about how good you’re making her feel and it spurs you on despite gagging around her.

“Fuck, baby girl, let me use you,” she pleads and you look up at her from your knees and nod. Her head falls back with a groan at your obedience and she starts fucking your mouth with a leisurely pace.

You watch her through hooded eyes, watch her slump forward and put a hand on the wall over you when she starts to move faster, watch her teeth dig into her bottom lip, watch the way she keeps her eyes on yours, grunts sporadically falling from her mouth as she uses you.

With every snap of her hips, her cock is driven down your throat and you can feel it getting hotter and swelling and so is the heat inside you – it roars under your skin, you can feel your wetness dripping down your inner thighs and if you weren’t holding onto Agatha’s thighs for leverage, you would sneak a hand down and give your clit the two circles it would need.

Her thrusts become short and shallow and drool is pouring down your chin, eyes watering, and you know she’s close.

And then she stops and pulls out of your mouth, leaving you gasping for breath.

“What?” You ask hoarsely, swiping your chin to clean it off.

She pats under your chin and motions for you to stand up. “I want to cum inside you again.” And fuck, you think you might be able to cum just from her saying things like that.

Agatha tells you to go to her desk and locks the door before following you, a slight thrill running through you at the realization that anyone could’ve walked in and found you sucking your professor’s cock.

“Now,” she tuts when she stands in front of you, “you turned in your project two days early. So that’s two rewards.”

You gasp and she spins you around and bends you over her desk. She flips your skirt up over your bare ass and strokes the skin.

“Such a naughty slut. I was going to eat you out and then fuck you for being such a good girl,” she says wistfully.

Your head twists back to look at her. “But now?”

Her hand comes down swiftly on your ass and you jump. “Now, I’m going to spank you ten times and you’re going to say ‘Thank you, Daddy’ after each one. If you can do that, I’ll give you your rewards. Got it?”

Agatha barely gives you any time to agree before she spanks you the first time. “Thank you, Daddy,” you breathe.

She spanks the other cheek. You gasp out a “Thank you, Daddy.” It keeps going until your head is spinning with pleasure and you feel yourself practically gushing.

After the tenth one, she gives you no time at all to recover and bends down, licks through your folds, and sucks on your clit.

Your body instantly spasms and you cum just from the little stimulation of her mouth on your soaking wet pussy. Your walls convulse around nothing and you let out a loud moan, finally getting the relief you’ve been aching for.

And yet, just like every other time you’ve fucked yourself the past few nights, you need more. There’s a hunger, a deep ache inside of you and you cry out when she rubs the tip of her still hard cock against your clit.

You’re so wet there’s no friction, just her skin sliding on yours, and you grind your hips back to try and get more satisfaction.

But Agatha just glides her cock through your swollen, sopping folds, only ever dipping into your entrance, and you try to push yourself onto her but she tsks.

“Patience, baby girl,” she purrs, but you can hear the need leaking from her voice too. She’s torturing both of you at this point.

Her tip pops into you and you gasp. “Daddy, please,” you whine, your head falling forward onto your outstretched hands, hoping for a similar reaction to the title as last time.

And you get it.

Agatha slowly but surely pushes all the way into you, a strangled cry leaving your mouth at the welcome stretch. You’re so wet and ready that she’s met with almost no resistance at all, just like last time, but now you can make all the sounds you couldn’t in the library.

“Fuck,” Agatha curses under her breath when she bottoms out, feeling your walls adjust around her. She stays still while you clench with a moan and you feel her throb inside you. “You almost broke Daddy today in class, you know that?”

She sharply snaps her hips and you keen.

“Showing me you weren’t wearing underwear –” another thrust, “pretending to suck on that pen –” she yanks your head back by your hair and your mouth drops open but no sound comes out, “getting on your knees in front of me like that, god, baby girl —“ she pulls all the way out of you and quickly drives back in, “you were just begging for Daddy to come fuck you in front of everyone, weren’t you? Probably would’ve taken it like a good slut, too.”

You sob when she sets a bruising pace, hitting that spot inside you each time, deliciously filling the ache inside you. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you gasp. “Not my fault, you wrote that stuff on my paper.” As if that’s any excuse.

Agatha chuckles darkly and slaps your ass, making you clench around her again. Her rhythm falters for a moment and then resumes. “Oh baby girl, you were begging for me the moment you stepped into my classroom.”

It’s unclear if she means now or the first time you ever did, but she wouldn’t be wrong in either case.

“Yes,” you rasp. “I need you, Daddy.” And she somehow starts fucking you even harder now, a smack reverberating everytime her hips hit your ass.

“I know, baby,” she says, reaching around your body to press against your clit. You jolt, a spark of intense pleasure running through you. “Daddy will give you what you need. You did so good for me, turning in that project early. I knew all we had to do was figure out how to get that pretty little head of yours to focus.”

You nod in agreement. The pleasure is getting to your head, completely overwhelming any and all thoughts, and you just make a little sound.

Agatha huffs out a laugh but her thrusts are getting sloppy and she’s breathing faster. You can feel her cock pulsing, her nails dig into your ass, and she swipes her thumb against your clit, and even though it slips off each time with your wetness, the muted pleasure still sends tingles up your spine. The tension in your lower stomach is building and you know it’s about to snap.

“Daddy,” you gasp. “I’m going to cum.”

She doesn’t change a thing, just keeps fucking you like only she can, hard and fast and short, and she says, “Cum for Daddy.”

You fall apart on her cock. Your walls squeeze around her, making it hard for her to move and she just ruts in you until she lets out a low groan and you feel a throb and then a warmth spreads through you.

Agatha keeps shallowly stroking inside, both of you twitching, until she softens and slips out. A mix of your cum and hers oozes out of your pussy and down your legs and you can’t help but moan at the feeling.

You then realize that because you decided to tease her, you’re going to be walking back to your dorm with her cum still leaking out of you. There’s a hot pang in your stomach.

“Was that a good reward?” She teases and you turn around to face her. Agatha’s softly cleaning her cock with her hand before she tucks herself back into her pants.

Your cheeks flush. “Very good,” you say. “Guess that’s what happens when I focus, right?”

Her smile is teasing and you know she’s going to use that against you going forward. You don’t mind at all. “Whatever it takes, baby girl.”

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness smut #agatha smut #agatha all along

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chleem · 28 days ago

Text

Love Deception

One shot: ceo!drew starkey x assistant!reader

Genre: fake dating, bit angsty, yearning, age gap (31 & 26), read at own caution

⋆.˚ don't copy or translate my work!

♡⸝⸝ inspired by the tweet above | two

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Drew Starkey. The most eligible bachelor in the area.

At just 31, he’s established himself as a multi-billionaire.

Everywhere he goes, eyes immediately follow, drawn to his wealth and charm.

But tonight, the attention isn’t directed to him.

It’s on you, your hand hooked into his as you play the role of ‘girlfriend’.

Drew Starkey’s girlfriend.

His smart, young, and beautiful assistant has been promoted to girlfriend.

It was known in the industry that Mr Starkey wasn’t one to be tied down.

Also known in the industry is his beautiful assistant, that he hired even though she had no previous experience.

Now, it was going to be known that she would potentially become the Mrs Starkey.

After two years of working with him, you never expected for his hand to be this warm. The coldness of his ring brushes against your hand, his thumb gently rubbing, sending a shiver down your spine.

How did he convince you to be his girlfriend for the night?

Well, the Harringtons - a newly engaged couple, has become one of those pairs who only seem to socialize with other couples. The pressure to secure a crucial business deal was enough for Drew to come up with a solution- you.

For the sake of the company! …and your job.

He could’ve easily found an actress to play the part, but the fact that he chose you- gave a boost to your ego. Which, you allowed yourself to wear a dark blue backless dress, one that bodied your curves perfectly.

But as confident as you were, the moment you stepped into the room filled with the richest people alive, reality hit. Side glances filled with jealousy, disgust, hatred…god, it was horrible.

As if being his assistant wasn’t enough to draw judgment.

Plus, you weren’t even the main lead in this event, it was the Harringtons, it’s their engagement party!

His hand leaves yours as you walk through the crowd, finding a new place dangerously close to where the backless dress ends.

Drew’s body sticks close to you, before he gently taps your waist to guide you to an empty cocktail table.

You stand around it, focused on maintaining a perfect posture. His hand on your waist isn’t helping, the warmth of it pulling your attention in the worst ways.

A server walks by, offering a drink from the tray.

Drew grabs two, and your fingers brush against his in a brief, electrifying way. “Thanks,” you murmur, taking a small sip but not before averting your gaze from him.

Call it the ‘boyfriend’ effect or whatever, but he was particularly handsome tonight, with his newly dyed hair and black suit.

“Just act natural,” his deep voice whispers into your ear, his hot breath fanning your earlobe.

You place the drink down on the table, angling your body towards him.

The closeness catches you off guard, but you play along, his mischievous gaze piercing down at you. The corner of his lips curls, and you can’t help but notice the small mustache on his upper lip.

“Easy for you to say,” you murmur, hands fidgeting with the stem of your wine glass.

Drew’s blue eyes narrow slightly, and the small grin on his lips show that he’s got a snarky remark to say. But he doesn’t, instead inching his face closer to yours.

Panicking, you place a hand on his chest, eyes widening as you imagined what he was going in for. “What are you doing?”

He cocks his head to the side, “not a fan of PDA?”

Without another word, he presses a soft kiss to your temple, the softness of his lips lingering there. Fuck.

You clear your throat, taking a deep breath to calm yourself- instead, breathing in his cologne.

You can't help but notice the red tint on the tips of his ears, mirroring the blush on your own cheeks.

Over his shoulder, you see the stars of tonight; Mr and Mrs Harrington.

“Harrington,” you whisper into his ear, as the couple finishes their conversation at a nearby table, heading your way.

“Mhm,” Drew mutters, and you could feel his stare burning the side of your face, intense and unblinking.

The couple approaches, and you give Drew a light tug on his jacket sleeve.

Drew immediately shifts his demeanor, slipping into the polished, fake smile you've seen him use countless times. His posture straightens, his gaze sharpens, fading to his usual ‘cool’ professionalism.

“Mr Harrington. Mrs Harrington," Drew greets them smoothly, exchanging a firm handshake. You watch as he effortlessly slips into his role—charming, composed, and completely in control.

“Starkey,” Mr Harrington starts, his gaze shifting over to you, “and…y/n? The assistant, right?”

You give him a soft smile, preparing to introduce your new role, but Drew beats you to it.

“My girlfriend, actually,” he says with a bright grin, the kind that could convince anyone of the truth, even if it wasn’t. The arm around your waist pulls you even closer, which catches the attention of the couple.

Their lips immediately twist into a friendlier, more welcoming expression, as if Drew's newfound relationship status has opened up a new layer of potential—both personally and professionally.

Mrs Harrington gasps excitedly, to which you shyly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “How did this happen?” She happily chirps, her voice filled with genuine curiosity as her eyes drift between you.

“Tonight’s about the two of you,” Drew says smoothly, though his polite denial also carries a hint of discomfort—probably because you two hadn’t rehearsed the whole story.

“Nonsense- we want to know,” Mr Harrington joins in.

Shit, shit, shit.

Despite being Drew’s assistant for two years, you knew nothing about his personal life. Sure, you’ve been over to his house a few times, know his work habits, schedule etc…who is he outside of work? No idea.

But as Drew awkwardly laughs, you know he’s got nothing either.

And as his assistant, it was your job to fix these little hiccups, to swoop in when things weren’t going smoothly.

“Well,” you begin, catching Drew’s gaze. He lifts his eyebrows in anticipation, and you just smiled back at him, “we’ve worked together for two years, and some where along the way, we realized we had more in common than just business.”

Drew's lips twitch upward, like he's impressed by your ability to turn this into something believable.

He turns to the couple, and nods, hiding the smile behind his wine glass.

“No- like did he confess, or did you? When did this even happen?” Mrs Harrington presses on, as if transported back into elementary school, grilling you for the juicy details.

You wouldn’t blame her. Drew Starkey, the hottest and wealthiest bachelor in the area (or whole world), finally gets a girlfriend? Of course, that’s the kind of gossip people can’t resist.

At first, you hesitated. What kind of person would you be if you took advantage of this... moment?

But then, as if a switch flipped inside you, you realized you could take advantage of it. Why not?

“This man right here-” you pinch his shoulder in a teasing way, that catches Drew to question you through his eyes. “Confessed first. Told me about this big crush he has on me, since forever.”

The couple gasps louder, earning a few more stares from other tables.

Drew snickers, placing his drink down on the table. He attempts to wipe off the smile tugging on the corner of his mouth, but fails to do so. Not to mention, the grip on your waist tightening.

You watch his reaction, placing your hand back onto the table. What is he gonna say next?

“And how did he do it? Romantic dinner, or what?” Mrs Harrington asks, her husband also looking at you two intrigued.

“Why don’t you tell them, babe?” you murmur, your voice light, before your attention shifts to a server passing by. You casually take two cupcakes from her tray, placing one down on the table.

The nickname has an immediate effect.

Drew’s jaw tightens, and you feel his hand begin to rub the side of your waist— as if to send a signal that your behavior might be getting under his skin.

Okay. Maybe it’s time to shut up.

“Uh, y’know,” Drew starts, scratching the side of his face. “Something casual, we were having takeout, and I just…”

His words trail off as he turns his gaze over to you. You’re focused on the cupcake, carefully taking a bite, making a little show of not getting frosting on your face.

For a moment, Drew’s eyes soften as he stares down at you, shoulders relaxing just a fraction.

You, however, barely notice the change (bit too focused on the cupcake). It’s all part of the act, right?

“I just knew that…I had to be hers.”

You chew on the cupcake slowly, forcing a smile.

“That’s…really sweet,” Mr Harrington comments, and for the first time, you hear someone say that phrase without a trace of sarcasm.

The couple looks at the two of you, their eyes soft with that kind of heart-warming affection that only comes from being true romantics.

Oh god. You almost feel bad for deceiving them.

“She just... gets me like no one else,” Drew continues on, and there’s a tenderness in his voice this time, something unexpected that catches your attention.

When you tear your attention away from the cupcake, you notice the way his blue eyes gleam, catching the light in a way that almost makes you see yourself in them.

Fuck. The twist in your stomach tells you even you’re starting to buy into this.

Another squeeze to your waist brings you back, and panicking, you change the subject, “enough about us! What about you two lovebirds?”

Luckily, the Harringtons don’t catch the subtle change in the air. Mrs Harrington’s eyes light up, diving right into the new topic.

As the conversation flows, your ears catch snippets of Drew and Mr. Harrington’s discussion. You overhear details of the business plan they’re hashing out, the one that used to be on hold.

His touch is comforting—but honestly, it’s the business deal that’s starting to feel like the real win.

——

Being Drew’s ‘girlfriend’ made a simple event feel a hundred times longer than when you were just his assistant.

The same story repeated to any guest that was brave enough to approach Drew, each reaction either unbelieving or amazed. Of course, business talk was always at the center of the conversation.

Halfway through you did imagine Drew getting tired and leaving, but no. He stayed by your side, even if it felt like he was monitoring your every move.

The subtle tension between you two was hard to ignore. You’d spent two years as his assistant, sure, but this... this felt different. You were playing a role, but somewhere between the smiles, the touches, and the fleeting moments of eye contact, it was beginning to feel like something more.

You both didn’t know it at the time, but this new label- 'girlfriend'- would soon lead to something more.

——

You woke up with a jolt, eyes blinking as your vision started to focus on your surroundings.

The familiar smell of leather and the soft hum of the engine slowly registers into your mind, but it took a moment for the reality to sink in.

Meeting the driver's eyes through the rearview mirror, you realized where you were.

You’re in the backseat of your boss’ car.

The seatbelt was still on, and you felt a slight crick in your neck, evidence of a long, unintended nap.

Fuck. How long had you been out?

You stretch your neck, which brings your attention to the presence beside you.

Drew sits quietly beside you in the backseat, absorbed in his iPad, the bright screen the only light in the car.

Oh my god.

You’ve never fallen asleep in his car before. Hell, you’ve never even fallen asleep in front of him.

This was highly unprofessional, and downright embarrassing.

“I-“ you start, your voice coming out hushed.

Drew looks up from his screen, and his blue eyes meet yours in the dark car. He stares at you with a blank expression, the soft glow of the iPad highlighting the sharp angles of his face.

He doesn’t talk; so you continue. “I’m so sorry for falling asleep-“

Shifting uncomfortably, you undo your seatbelt, reaching for your purse that’s in the middle seat.

But just as you reach for it, it slips down to the floor, somewhere in the dark.

You freeze for a second, then start leaning down to retrieve it. But before you can, Drew shifts beside you, his hand moving smoothly into the space between you.

His fingers brush against yours as he grabs the purse, his touch fleeting but sending an unexpected rush through you.

He lifts it slowly, his eyes meeting yours again.

You try to ignore the way your pulse quickens, taking the purse from him. "Thanks," you manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Take your time,” he whispers, averting his attention back to his iPad.

Shit.

You open the car door, the cold breeze not as strong as the awkwardness of this moment. Stepping out, you hold onto your purse tight, closing the door behind you.

It’s then that it dawns on you—you’re standing in front of your apartment complex.

Your heart skips a beat. Usually, when you ride with your boss, you have the driver drop you off at the subway station. The usual routine.

But tonight?

How did Drew even know your address?

Whatever- you give a quick wave to the blacked-out windows, even though you can’t see a thing inside.

…which you immediately regret because who waves goodbye to their boss?

You make your way to the front door, trying to appear as natural as possible. But as you unlock the door behind you, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve just crossed a line.

You’re pretty sure this isn’t how professionalism is supposed to look.

——

At the same time (just as you entered your apartment), Drew tosses his iPad to the side, running his hands through his hair.

“‘Take your time’?” Drew mutters, cringing at his own words. He leans back against the seat, shaking his head. “Fuck.”

He looks over at your apartment building, a grayish block of concrete that’s seen better days. A flickering overhead light casts an unflattering glow on the worn-out doormat at the entrance.

The whole place has a sense of being cheaply thrown together, and it’s clear it hasn’t been updated in years.

Is this place even suited for living?

Plus, last time he checked, your salary was high compared to others.

He couldn’t help but feel like a stalker, watching as the elevator dings open on one of the floors. Through the large windows, he sees you, tiredly fumbling through your purse for your keys.

It’s barely visible- yet clear enough for him to see how tired you were.

“Sir, should we go?” the driver’s voice echoes through the quiet car, tearing Drew away from the sight.

He checks his watch- 12:11 A.M

For the past two hours, he had sneaked long glances over at your sleeping form. You looked so peaceful, so... unguarded. It was the first time he’d seen you like that.

As if captivated, he couldn’t bring himself to wake you up (hence why you had a two-hour nap in his car).

“Yeah- time to leave,” Drew says, his voice low, as he stretches his legs out in the seat.

The car starts, and Drew closes his eyes, his mind replaying the events of tonight.

Because tonight, he’d officially shown the world he wasn’t single anymore. Even if it was just a show.

-------------------------------

word count: 2.6k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: first post of 2025! did u guys miss me, bc i def missed you!

hope you enjoyed this oneshot, and thx sm to the person that tweeted, bc of you theres this lovely piece! and omg, sry if this was slightly cringe, but i loved the idea sm so i just typed, typed, and typed!

updated: second part | other

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x you #drew starkey fic #drew starkey x reader #drabble #oneshot #x reader #fiction #fake dating

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authorhjk1 · 2 months ago

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Yess another rv smut! If ur still up for another rv pls do how does rv react to squirting.

Esp seulgi in curly hair thx!

Irene

Irene is lying on her back as you make her squirt. She closes her eyes, her cheeks flush red. You can't tell if it's her orgasm or her embarrassment. Either way, her pussy massages your cock as her juices spill out of her. She tries to cover it with her hand, which makes it even worse. Still holding onto her thighs, you enjoy the whole show. Irene's squirt ruines the sheets and glazes her lower body with her juices.

You lean down and start to clean her body. She tastes even better than before. But you can hear Irene's embarrassed whines, which makes you lick her toned tummy even more.

Seulgi

Seulgi buries her face in your neck as you feel her juices run down your cock and drip onto the carpet. Her orgasm left her body a shaking mess. She's hanging onto you like a koala, her arms around your neck, her legs wrapped around your hips.

"You don't need to be embarrassed about this."

Seulgi shakes her head. You can't help but chuckle. She's squirted several times already, but she keeps being shy about it. As if it's something wrong. It's not.

"I love to see you like this."

You kiss her cheek, before slowly resuming your movements from earlier, lifting Seulgi off your cock, before lowering her onto it again.

Wendy

"Oh, god! I'm gonna cum!"

"You're gonna cum?"

"Yes, you fuck my ass so good!"

Wendy moans as you keep ruining her from behind. Her upper body is bent over the makeup table in RV's dressing room. Her short skirt is hiked up.

"Cum for me, Wendy."

You whisper into her ear, making her finally orgasm after this long and exhausting performance.

To your surprise, her body reacts more than usual. Wendy's eyes open wide as she suddenly squirts all over the floor. You feel her ass tightly gripping onto your cock, while her pussy ruins the floor beneath her. It's not just a trickle. Within a matter of seconds, a small puddle has formed underneath her.

"I should fuck you more often like this."

You kiss her cheek as Wendy slowly calms down.

"Yes, please."

She's visibly out of breath and tired. But her ass is telling you to make her squirt again.

Joy

Joy lets out a moan.

"Please. I can't take more."

Her voice is barely above a whisper.

You reach for her face, brushing a couple of wet strands of her hair out of her face.

"It's okay, babe. Trust me."

You kiss her, while you keep moving your cock in and out of her pussy. The bed she's lying on is already soaked. Her naked body covered with sweat and her own squirt.

"Just one more time."

You say lovingly as you feel another orgasm building.

Joy sighs in defeat and pleasure, your finger on her clit, your hand on her chest and your cock in her pussy don't really give her a choice. Her tired body seems completely drained.

"Let go, babe."

You whisper into Joy's ear, triggering a chain reaction. Her pussy contracts around your cock, her back arches of the wet sheets, her hands form fists, her breathing seems to stop. A second later, her thighs shake, a loud, drawn out moan leaves her lips and another wave of her squirt leaves her pussy. Once more, Joy squirts all over herself. She's covered in her own slick, barely moving once she's gone through her orgasm.

Yeri

"I'm so close!"

Yeri's cry echoes through her pilates studio.

You adjust your grip on her slim waist and fuck her harder. Her foot is threatening to slip off your shoulder, but your arm around it keeps it place. Her torn leggings show off that ass of her and you can see your cock thrust into her pussy.

But the best view lies straight ahead. Through the mirror, you can see Yeri's face. Flushed cheeks, opened mouth, sweat dripping down her forehead.

"Gonna cum!"

You watch as Yeri orgasms. You made her stand in front of the mirror on purpose. Knowing she's a squirter, you're now watching Yeri ruining the mirror. Her juiced hit the glass surface and start running down as her moans fill the room.

#ask #anon #kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #irene red velvet #wendy red velvet #red velvet joy #yeri red velvet #red velvet seulgi #red velvet smut #red velvet

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rbfclassy · 10 months ago

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MY BOYFRIENDS BEST FRIEND! — GOJO + GETO

SYNOPSIS...gojo can’t seem to make his girlfriend cum, so he goes to his best friend for advice…little does he know he’s gonna get a hands on demonstration

INFO...gojo x fem!reader x geto, threesome(?), vouyerism, doggy, missionary, praise, degradation, dumbification, squirting, overstim, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

Gojo sat there in the chair next to the bed, azure eyes watching intently at the way his best friend’s dick was thrusting in and out of your sopping cunt, your moans filling his ears as your eyes rolled back. Suguru slapped your ass, loving the way it rippled against his hips and jiggled in his hands.

All Gojo did was ask a simple question to his best friend, a simple “how do you make a girl cum?” Geto chuckled thinking it was a joke but he stopped once he realized that Gojo was dead serious. Truth be told, your boyfriend has never made you cum before. He always felt bad for finishing first, trying his very hardest to make you cum under any circumstances. He’d eat your pussy, finger you, suck on your nipples, but nothing ever worked. No matter how many times you told him it was okay, he knew it wasn’t.

At first, Geto gave verbal instructions, telling Gojo how to do this and that, but all Gojo already did all of that. He wasn’t sure what he was doing wrong. “Is there like a video I can watch or something?” Gojo sighed, feeling defeated.

Geto smirked, looking down at his feet. “I’ll do you one better, how about a front row view?”

Now, here he was, cock straining against his pants while his best friend fucked you. “You gotta treat her like a slut, Satoru,” Geto chuckled, pushing your head down into the mattress, his cock reaching deeper than it was before. “Here the way she’s screaming?” Geto asked cockily.

Gojo nodded, swallowing thickly. “Fuck! Fuck! Ah! Oh my god!” You moaned, gripping onto the sheets below you. It felt like your head was on a swivel, mind cloudy, barely able to think. Your eyes fluttered up to your boyfriend, his cheeks dusted a rosy red as his eyes met yours. “Mmm, Toru,” you whimpered.

“Hear how wet her pussy is, hm? She loves this,” Geto laughed, halting his movements. He pulled out of you slowly, a drawn out whine leaving your lips from the loss of contact. “She creaming around my cock, Satoru, that’s a good sign.” Geto tucked his bottom lip between his teeth, slowly jerking himself off. “Flip her over for me.”

Gojo crawled onto the bed, flipping you over on your back. Your chest heaved up and down, staring at your boyfriend with pleading eyes. “Toru,” you whispered, barely able to speak from screaming in pleasure. He looked down at you, reaching his hands down and hooking them under your knees, spreading your legs and holding them back. “Ah!” Your gaze averted towards Geto, watching the way he slowly inserted his cock into your cunt, head scraping against your g-spot. “Yes!” You groaned, gripping onto your boyfriend forearms.

“Keep holding her legs for me,” Geto grunted as he plunged his dick in and out of you, hole clenching around his tightly. “Fuck her until she can’t speak, can’t think, listen to way she moans, it’s how you know you’re doing a good job.” His pace was relentless, leaving you no time to adjust to the overwhelming pleasure.

“Baby, cum on Suguru’s cock for me,” your boyfriend whispered in your ear, tightly holding your legs back no matter how much you fought to close them. “Wanna see you cum so bad, pretty girl,” he whined, pressing a chaste kiss to your jaw. Pre cum stained his pants, the throbbing unbearable, so needy to get his cock out a stroke it, to fuck you.

“Oh,” Geto chuckled, “I think you might’ve set her off with that one, Satoru, her pussy just clenched.” He looked at his best friend. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he averted his gaze back down to your pussy, examining the way his dick disappeared inside of you.

“Gonna c-cum! Oh, shit—fuck!” You moaned, body writhing against the bed. The way Geto’s cock was dragging along your gummy walls with your boyfriend pleading in your ear made your body feel like it was on fire, the familiar pressure building up in your lower abdomen.

“Yes, baby, cum for me,” Gojo practically begged. Within seconds a clear liquid shot from your pussy, soaking his best friends stomach and your thighs. Your screams were like music to his ears. “Oh my fucking god,” he said in awe.

Geto pulled out of you, a rewards grin on his face. “Look at that, she’s a squirter!” Geto rubbed your clit back and forth, overstimulating you, wanting to get every last drop of your juices. “I guess now you know she likes being talked through it.” Geto looked at Gojo. “How about you try doing what I taught you?”

“But…she just came, isn’t that—”

“Do it, please,” you begged, looking up at your boyfriend with teary eyes. Those words were all he needed to hear to be standing in front of you, stripping himself of his clothes, his dick springing free. Geto was now the one behind you, holding your legs to your chest.

“Let’s see if your boyfriend’s been paying good attention.” You could hear the smirk in his voice while you watching Gojo rub his cock up and down your slit, nudging against your swollen clit.

A shaky breath left his lips as the feeling of your pussy rubbing against his cock. As much as he wanted to fuck you relentlessly, Geto told him to tease first, get you more worked up and needy. “Toru, please, put it in,” you begged, staring up at him.

“Not yet, pretty girl.” He shook his head, continuing to tease you, the head of his cock stretching your entrance before he took it back out and rubbed it against your clit.

“Ah, Toru! Please!” You begged again. You were so worked up, desperate to feel your boyfriend’s cock inside of you again. Without warning, he plunged deep inside of you, your eyes widened followed by a loud gasp. “Oh my god!” He began thrusting in out of you, hips pounding against yours. The tip of his cock kissed your cervix, reaching deep. “Yes, yes! Right there!” A choked moan left your lips.

“F-fuck, baby! Pussy’s so wet,” he whimpered, tossing his head back in bliss.

Geto placed kisses down your neck, smirking against your skin. He let out a small laugh, feeling your body go limp in his hands. “Be a good girl and cum on your boyfriend’s dick.”

Gojo reached down, thumb rubbing your neglected clit in circles, bringing on the brink of another orgasm. Your head felt fuzzy, staring up at him with half lidded eyes. He loved that fucked out look on your face, grinning down at you as he put more pressure on your clit. He continuously hit your g-spot over and over again, your skin heating up once again. He pounded into you harshly, your entire body jolting with each thrust.

“Ah! Ah! Slow—ah—down!” You screamed, hands coming up to push on his stomach, a weak attempt at trying to slow his movement. “You’re gonna make me cum!” Your voice cracked in between moans. “Don’t stop, please! Shit, shit! Baby!” Finally, you gushed around his cock for the first time, body quivering above Geto.

“Good girl!” Geto praised. “You’re squirting so much for him.” He lightly gasped, watching how you kept squirting the more Gojo fucked you. He held your legs back, feeling your resistance against him as you tried to close them from overstimulation. “Keep fucking her,” he ordered.

“T-toruuu,” you whined, jaw slack.

“Oh, baby, you sound so pretty cumming on my dick—fuck!” He breathed heavily, still fucking you. Your pussy clenched around him again before gushing, soaking your thighs and the sheets below. Now, one of his favorite sights was watching you squirt, making a mess of yourself. “Give me one more, pretty.”

“You learned well, Satoru. See that look on her face?” Geto gripped your jaw. “Means she fucking loves it. Your girlfriend was just too shy to admit she likes getting fucked like a whore,” he laughed.

Both Gojo and Geto know that he wasn’t just gonna ask for one more, you were going to be here a long night, your boyfriend making up for all the times he didn’t make you cum.

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meltingmidas · 10 months ago

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Coachella Rut

Paring: Idol!Hongjoong x Non Idol!Reader

CW: DomJoong/SubReader, Joongie is aggressive :))), pinv, unprotected sex (don’t do this plz this is not sexy!), creampie, mentions of marks and bruises, degradation, pls lmk if i missed anything!

WC: 920

Midas's Notes: So I literally started this right after watching the Coachella stream.. holy shit. Joong really did something to me and idk if I’ll ever be the same. Is there possibly a Mingi one in the works? Maybe. Uhhh this is NOT edited cause I’m too tired and this is just raw horniness so please enjoy (and excuse) this messy fic! PS also didn’t have a fuckin clue what to name it so enjoy the random title <3

🔞 Below 🔞

“Fuck Joong, slow doowwwn- ugh please!” You whimpered as he roughly pounded into your abused pussy, your legs over his shoulders, his arms beside your head. He’s been at it for nearly 2 hours now, rejecting your every single orgasm, giving you no time to rest. Your neck is littered in bruises, cheeks red from his previous slaps, eyeliner dragged down to your jaw. He’s always like this after a concert; but for some reason Coachella has him in a rut.

He’s aggressive, raw, and borderline psychotic. A wild smile plastered on his face, the shitty red dye running down his face over his eyes and around his cheeks, down to his chin and neck. He locks eyes with you as he brings his hand up to roughly hold your jaw, your cheeks uncomfortably squishing together. “You are fucking mine, got it? Your heart, your soul, your thoughts, your pretty pussy, everything. You belong to me. Yeah?”He whispers out, inches away from your face, he’s movements never faulting. You nod, and mewl out a small “Yes sir” before he gives the corner of your lips a small kiss and returning to the side of your head, giving light nips to your neck. Hongjoong looks straight out of a horror movie; and it’s fucking sexy.

You’re dragged out of your thoughts by a particular hard thrust, kissing your velvety sweet spot inside you, making you sing his name like it was a prayer. “You look so fucking good underneath me. All fucked up on my cock, yeah? You can’t get enough of me, can you?” He grunts out, his voice course from the previous show he put on. You nod eagerly, your nails scratching at his shoulders, bound to leave your mark all over him. “Yeaah that’s right slut. Tell me how good I am.” You moan loudly at his request, surely others would hear (not that you cared), starting to attempt to form a sentence. “Cock feels to-fuck feels too good Joong. Need you to fuck me harder. Please!”.

He chuckles deeply, heavy into your ear, soft grunts and pants leaving his lips. “You feel so fucking good, you were made for me, whore.” You scream out his name as he starts fucking you faster; harder than he’s ever gone before. You whine and whimper, begging for your release, “Please Joong- pleasepleaseplease fill me up sir, I need it so bad. Need your cum inside me so bad.” Hongjoong moans loudly in your ear, his breath fanning against the shell. He lifts up to look at you, the fully sits up, your lower half now slightly lifted up off the bed thanks to your legs still over his shoulders. He gives you a wild smirk, eyes dark and full of love and lust. His hands find the plush spot of your hips, nails digging his shape into it. You whine, tears spilling out as you keep your babbling pleas for his seed. “Fuck- such a good girl, asking so politely for my cum.” One hand moves from your hips and finds your clit, your eyes shoot open and a drawn out moan leaves your lips, a new spark shoots up your spine and your release edging closer and closer.

He grunts, his thrust growing sloppier and harder, you can feel him twitch inside you as he gets closer. “Gonna make you mine sweetheart. All mine- fuck.” He peers down at you, a smile and his signature laugh, “Cum for me, doll.” That was all you needed as you find yourself twitching, hips bucking up into his, you feel your walls convulsing around his, feeling your sweet slick run down to your ass. He moans, voice scratching as a string of “shit” leaves him, as you feel hot ropes of cum fill you up. You whine, feeling so full of him and his milky cum. “So so good. Fuck you’re mine. Mine all mine..” he whispers out, more to himself, as he pushes his final spurts of cum inside you.

You look at him through your wet lashes, admiring the scene of his sweat drenching him, basking in his post sex glow. He catches your eyes, a soft smile leaving his lips as he leans down to meet yours. Hongjoong gives you a soft, gentle kiss, completely different to the ones you received earlier. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t do too much did I?” He asks, slowly pulling out of you, a mix of both your cum oozing outside of your puffy pussy. You shake your head, “No, not at all Joongie. But holy shit, I don’t think I can get up after all… that.” You laugh, and you hear him quietly joins you. “Here.” You look over to find him handing you a glass of water (that he already prepped beforehand, what a gentleman), and a towel in his hand beside you. You gladly take it, shaking as you hastily take a sip. You feel him gently lift one of your legs, softly patting and wiping you off. “I’ll start you a bath, and we can take one together. Or would you rather eat first? Which sounds good?” He quietly asks you, throwing the towel to a dirty clothes hamper and grabs your hand to give it a kiss. You giggle, “Bath, then food, please.” He nods, slowly rubbing your knuckles in his hands. “Sounds good sweetheart.” He gets up to start your bath, you sit up, sipping your water and wondering if you should get chicken or a burger.

#Ateez #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #kpop #kpop smut #kim hongjoong #hongjoong #hongjoong smut #hongjoong x reader

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pretty-little-mind33 · 10 months ago

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Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: You've been the Twins' handler for years now, and when Tangerine blows up at you one evening after a mission, he apologizes in an unconventional way.

Epilogue

Genre: SMUT (nsfm)

Warnings: implied fuck boy!Tangerine, bitchy!Tangerine in the beginning, reader is named Peach, unprotected sex, passionate sex, not much foreplay (they're desperate lmao), swearing, insecurities, praise kink, degradation, emotional, Tangerine is all over the place and bad with his feelings!

~ i'm so sorry i feel like this took forever <3 enjoy! @j23r23 ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

"He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not," you smile, your nails drumming on the desk as you pick at the petals of the roses in the jar near your computer. "Ah ha, he loves me. Knew you were so full of shit," you hum happily.

"Piss off," Tangerine loudly grunts in your ear and you tilt your head, scrunching your nose. You've told him not to yell like that—you've warned him that the earpiece is sensitive and you'll lose your hearing if he continues like this—but he never listens.

Being the Twins handler for almost four years now you've learned how to deal with their quirks.

Lemon, as ruthless as he is, is too trusting. He's also loyal to a fault and he'd die for Tangerine in seconds; something you've had to account for in your missions so it doesn't happen.

Tangerine on the other hand? Recklessness under the guise of control. He'd burn the entire world down for Lemon without hesitation, his temper as bright as the flames of a wildfire.

Unexplainably however, you were drawn to him the most.

While he pushes your buttons like no one else, you also tend to push him in ways that leave him wanting—no needing—more.

"Tan," you warn again, "don't talk so loudly, they'll hear you!"

"Stop your yapping in my ear then, luv," Tangerine snaps, his comment snarky and you hear a loud humph as it sounds like someone crashes into something.

Tangerine sounds out of breath and you use your mouse to click on the map on your computer. You zoom in and ask, "Where's Lem? You aren't supposed to meet any security for a while—"

"He's busy, darlin'. And your little shortcut turned out to be not so short after all," Tangerine says and you hear a loud grunt. It's obvious he's in the middle of a fight.

Your blood runs cold as you chew on your lip. Your hands quickly dance over the keyboard as you try and find another way for them—an easier way—

"Hey, Peach, will ya stop breathing so damn loudly, it's distracting me," Tangerine's voice interrupts your worry and you hold your breath when you hear a loud thwap and then a grunt—immediately accompanied by cursing and more hoarse shouts.

"Tangerine!" his name spills from your lips as you hear louder blows. "Tan?" you whisper when the line disconnects and a low buzz is heard in your ear. You fumble to discard the earpiece onto the desk in front of you and then you focus on finding Lemon.

If anyone can help Tangerine, it's Lemon.

With a frown, you activate the tracker you'd promised not to slip into Lemon's jacket, and a little red light blinks on your computer screen. He's not far from where Tangerine is. You lean over and connect to the microphone on your computer.

"Lemon?!"

You hear a crack and then the shuffling of clothes against the microphone in the tracker. "Peach?" Lemon grunts, "Ya cheeky lil' bird, I told ya not to track me," he lets out a breathy laugh, and another smack is heard, "Fuck me, these fuckers just don't die easily!"

"Lem? Where's Tan?" you ask, seeing that the tracker Tangerine wears voluntarily on his suit hasn't moved in a while. "Is he okay? I think the earpiece broke."

Something must have happened to his tracker too if it's malfunctioning.

"Yeah, which is why I say I should wear it—but he's bossy and he's your favorite," Lemon says.

"I don't have favorites!" you insist, your cheeks burning.

"Sure, whatever," Lemon chuckles and then adds, "Ah, speaking of the devil—I can see 'im now. Damn, he's beat up ain't he. Bullocks. Y'know your little plan was shit, Peach, security swarmed us almost immediately!"

You pinch your eyes and guilt settles in your stomach. "I know, I know, I'm sorry,"

You hear Tangerine's voice distantly as he grumbles, "Fuckin' arsehole broke my earpiece when he punched me—I lost contact with Peach," he complains and you hear shuffling. Your stomach fills with unwanted butterflies at the sound of his voice and how your codename rolls off his tongue.

"She can hear ya," Lemon says, his smirk evident in his tone, "Say hello, Peach."

"She tracked ya?"

"Yeah, and bugged me too apparently."

"What the fuck, my tracker doesn't do that," Tangerine says and you hear an infliction in his voice.

"Yeah, cauz you always have the earpiece."

"Because she likes me better,"

"That's what I said!!"

"Oi, you wankers, I can still hear you," you interrupt, "Will you just come back to the van now? The mission's a bust," you finish. While they continue to bicker for a moment, Lemon finally shuts down the tracker—by breaking it you assume—idiot—and it isn't until the van door slams open that you hear and see them again.

"Oi, now you're takin' the piss," Tangerine exclaims, glaring at his brother as he runs a hand through his mussed hair. He enters the van and you stand. Your eyes scan over his appearance; his suit is torn and bloodied and he has a gaping cut on his forehead. His ear is also bleeding from when you assume the broken earpiece had shattered.

"Christ," you whisper and walk over to him. Lemon smirks as he walks by the both of you and collapses onto the second chair near your desk. He's less beat up than Tangerine—who'd taken on more men you assume—but you remind yourself to check on him later anyway.

Tangerine senses you come up to him and he tenses when you hold his cheeks in your hands and check his wounds. "Tan, this looks bad," you say.

"Peach, I'm fine," he grumbles and turns his head away. He sounds grumpier than usual.

"Look, I'm sorry—I'm sorry I messed up, I—"

Suddenly, Tangerine explodes. His hand comes up around his ears as he scrunches up his nose. "Will ya just stop talkin' for one fuckin' second?!" he yells and even Lemon, who had been a silent bystander to the conversation, looks up from where he's bandaging his hand.

Your eyes widen and you blink at Tangerine. "W-what?"

He presses his index on his temple and narrows his eyes at you. "I have a fuckin' headache 'cause of you and you talkin' my fuckin' ear off all the damn time! And now I can barely hear because it's ringing so fuckin' hard!" he points to the blood inside his ear.

You flinch at his tone and try to control the tears threatening to spill as he harshly berates you.

"Right," is all you say, "sorry," your voice sounds small and you push by him and out to the front of the van to start the engine.

* * *

When you arrive outside their house—well, your house too since you've been living with them for the past three months—you don't talk to Tangerine. You don't even look at him.

Instead, without a word, you walk up to your room, tears still brimming, and slam the door behind you.

Your stomach hurts and your nails dig into your palms as you run a shower. You desperately want to wash away any memory of what happened tonight.

It isn't uncommon for you and Tangerine to fight—but he's never shouted like that and never in response to your worry.

Once you finish with your shower and walk out of the bathroom, just a towel wrapped around your body, you jump when you see Tangerine standing in the middle of your room.

He'd clearly freshened up too but, unlike yours, his hair is freshly dried. You aren't surprised—you know he hates sleeping with it when it's wet.

He's wearing a casual pair of beige slacks and a white T-shirt. The fabric strains against the muscles in his arms as he crosses them across his chest and you look up, feeling a burn in your cheeks.

Tangerine's ear has been bandaged and his cuts and bruises look kindly tended to. Lemon, you assume, he's always been soft on his brother even when he's acting like a jerk.

Tangerine is staring at you intensely, his blue eyes shining a shade darker than usual.

"Shit, stop being creepy," you grumble, holding your towel tightly around yourself. "Have you come to say you're sorry for acting like a prick or just stare a hole into my head?"

Tangerine's eyes narrow and he shakes his head. He stalks closer to you, pink lips parted and his hands find your hair near your nape. He pulls you in, seemingly unbothered by the squeal you make or how you're unable to move your hands to push him away.

Not that you'd want to push him away anyway.

"The fuck you think you're doing?" you hiss, staring at him, "have you gone mad?"

Tangerine just continues to stare into your soul. "You're so damn annoying," he mutters.

"I'll scream and Lemon will come and beat the shit out of you," you threaten, challenging him. You know Lemon would never do such a thing and you'd be a fool to scream.

"But, fuck me, I like you so damn much," he finishes his sentence, and then his lips find yours. His hand tightens in your hair as he kisses you. There's no tenderness in his kiss, no hesitation or remorse, just pure passion as he wraps his arms around you and holds your back as he pulls your chest to his.

You clutch the towel, making sure it feels secure, and kiss him back. You make a small sound behind his lips but you can't deny the heat in the kiss or how badly your stomach tightens just right. The steam coming from your bathroom is taunting as it surrounds you; sticky and warm.

"Tan," you mumble as his hand comes around your jaw and he turns your head to kiss your neck.

"Shut up," he growls, "you talk too damn much." He squeezes his eyes shut and the words fall easily from his lips as they press to your skin.

"God, you don't understand how hard it is for me; hearing your sweet voice in my ear while I'm trying not to get fuckin' stabbed or shot to death! You don't know what you do to me, darlin'. You have no fuckin' clue. It's fuckin' torture," he says as his hand tightens in your hair and you whimper.

"Tan, m-my towel," you tell him, struggling to hold it up as his body presses against yours.

This makes Tangerine snap out of whatever trance he's in for a moment and he looks down at you. His eyes have softened just a little and his tone is sultry when he asks, "Let it fall. I don't care. Do you?" His lips quirk up. "I've dreamt of you naked a thousand times, luv."

Your eyes round at the intensity of his words. You want to tell him to fuck off—that you've never thought of him like this. Never imagined his lips on yours or the way he'd feel inside you. But then you'd be a liar, and you aren't a liar.

Instead, you drop the towel, your eyes still intensely locked onto his. The cold air sends a shiver up your spine and Tangerine's hands find the skin on your back instead of the towel. His eyes haven't left yours and he looks surprised that you'd done it. He hasn't looked down and his cheeks have turned a dusty pink.

"What?" you move your hands up to his cheeks and hold them, "you said you'd dreamt of this. Well?" With as much confidence as you can muster, tilt his head to your naked body. You can feel your hands tremble against his cheeks, all kinds of insecurities and uncertainties bubbling inside you and just as you're going to pull away from sheer embarrassment, Tangerine speaks;

"Fuckin' hell, you look so much better than in my imagination," his hands slide up the curves of your hips and breasts. His touch is surprisingly gentle for how passionate he'd been in the beginning.

You watch as his eyes roam around your body and he runs a hand over his jaw, staring at you with pure admiration. "You belong in a fuckin' museum," he whispers behind his hand.

"Alright, lover boy," you roll your eyes and shift to move away but his hands find your hips and he hoists you up into his arms. You gasp, your arms finding his shoulders and your legs cling to his waist as your wet hair sprinkles water over his face. It's a weird position to be in considering you're naked.

"Tangerine!" you cry as he carries you over to your bed and you squeal when he drops you and hovers over you.

"Let me worship you, darlin'," he whispers as his knee slides in between your legs and he kisses your lips again. He disconnects them and looks at you seriously, "Please," he pleads and your eyes widen.

Tangerine never says please.

You find yourself nodding, too lost in the haze of it all to hear the small voice in your head screaming how stupid this is.

He'll throw you away after. He doesn't care. He'll hurt you. He'll break your heart!

You kiss him again, his lips moving against yours rhythmically. You're so lost in pleasure that when he sits up on his heels to strip his shirt, you whine and grasp at his arms. "Shhh, I'm here, dove," he chuckles, enjoying the power he has over you. When he leans over you to kiss you again, this time your hands find his abs and you can't help but explore them.

"You countin' them, luv?" he chuckles after a moment and his lips find your nipples as he squeezes one of your breasts in his hands. You make an embarrassed sound that quickly turns into a moan when he positions your hips just right so the fabric of his slacks hits your clit.

"I know, I know," Tangerine teases as he senses how needy you're becoming. "Shit, you're just a little slut, aren't ya, luv? Knew you'd wear those dresses to tempt me—didn't ya?"

You nod. You had. You didn't think it worked—he always played it so cool.

"You should know I would wank one out after seeing you—your thighs so visible and," he pauses and uses his hands to spread you open until he sees what he wants, "and that pretty pussy. So fuckin' pretty—

—you let me have a peek sometimes didn't you, naughty girl? Knew you did it on purpose," Tangerine says. He sounds satisfied with himself that he'd found you out and his grin widens when you nod.

"Just for you," you whisper, looking up at him with hooded eyes. "Please, Tan," you whine, you're already so wet for him.

"What do you want, hm? Tell me," he smirks and dips his head down to kiss your neck as his hands wander around your skin. He sits back up and removes his slacks and boxers. Your eyes downturn on his cock and you bite your lip. God, is he really this beautiful everywhere? How fucking unfair.

Tangerine's hand comes up to your chin, "Where do you want me?"

You look into his eyes, unsure how to ask him for what you want. Tangerine smiles, his thumb touching your lip. He's gentle, his eyes softer now, "Peach," he leans in and kisses just behind your ear. You shiver. "It's okay. Tell me where you want me," he smiles against your skin.

"Inside me," you say, your voice small

Tangerine hums and tucks some of your hair behind your ear, "Where inside you, luv? I want to hear you say it for me."

You feel your cheeks warm and you stare up at him. "In my pussy," you say and Tangerine's eyes light up and he smirks.

"My pleasure," he says and shifts his hips until you feel his cock press against your pussy. He feels you tense as your hands tighten around his shoulder.

"Hey, it's just me," he says, pushing in slower now. He looks concerned as one of his hands finds your hair and pushes the strands away from your eyes.

Yeah, that's the issue, you want to tell him but you just nod, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Look at me," he says as he pushes inside you fully. You gasp, arching into him and your breathing becomes harsh. He's so thick and long. Tangerine doesn't move and you let out a whine, your eyelids fluttering. "I said, look at me. I won't move until you look at me, darlin'," he whispers sternly.

When you finally look at him he smiles, "Do you trust me? I'm not gonna hurt you—promise."

You nod, biting your lip. Of course, you trust him. "I trust you," you answer breathlessly.

"Good girl," Tangerine praises and kisses your forehead. He starts to move his hips, pulling in and out of you with torturous strokes. He feels so good.

As he fucks you, he leans his forehead on yours, occasionally whispering praises into your ear as he tells you how pretty you look with him buried inside you.

"So fuckin' pretty with my cock inside your pussy, hmm," he grunts, continuing the pounding of his hips. "You close, luv? Already?" He teases you with a smirk and kisses your lips. You let out small moans, skin warm and sticky as you nod.

"Good," he smiles and uses his thumb to rub your clit, adding pressure as he fucks into you. "So good for me. All for me, hmm?"

"Y-yes," you groan, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Open your eyes, Peach," he demands and you do so instantly. "I want to look into your eyes when you come apart around me."

With that, the tension breaks inside you. Your body feels weak from the pleasure and your chest rises and falls rapidly once your high finishes. You let yourself relax into the mattress for a moment, ignoring the sudden stream of thoughts—good and bad—that race into your mind. Tangerine's lips touch your forehead again and then he pulls out, finishing on your stomach with a grunt.

You blink, feeling the bed dip and then his warmth disappears. You panic a little but you're too weak to move. If he wants to leave, let him, you convince yourself as you stare at the ceiling. However, when you feel something cold and wet across your stomach, you flinch and scramble to sit up.

Your eyes are wide and Tangerine pauses, removing the washcloth from your skin. He frowns a little, "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks softly. You stare at him. He's still shirtless but he's pulled up his trousers.

"You aren't leaving?" you ask, looking around the room and you suddenly feel very bare.

Tangerine's frown deepens but he doesn't speak for a moment as he washes away his cum from your skin and, after discarding the washcloth, he reaches behind him to hand you his shirt. You accept it without thinking and put it on, wrapping your arms around yourself as you continue to stare at him.

He shifts, sitting beside you with one leg off the bed. He still hasn't answered and you start to feel an impending pit in your stomach.

"Why would I leave?" he asks calmly, his voice doesn't have a hint of concern in its tone.

You fiddle nervously with the hem of his shirt, looking down. Your hair, now half-dried, is a mess from the pillows and you push it down and around your ears in an effort to compose yourself in front of him. "Well, I- I just assumed that you would—"

Tangerine tilts his head. "You think I would fuck and ditch, did ya? Ya think so low of me, Peach?" It feels like he sounds almost amused.

You shake your head but your nerves don't stop. "I mean, what do you expect me to think, Tangerine?" you look into his eyes and continue, "You come in here, all pissed at me—you yelled at me earlier and made me feel all shitty about myself—and then out of nowhere you kiss me and then we—"

"Fuck." Tangerine finishes bluntly.

You narrow your eyes at him. "Yeah, that," you let out a breath, "So, please, tell me. What am I supposed to think? What do you want from me now? Because I can't be one of your fuck toys, Tan. I refuse to be that girl. I- I care about you—" you feel your emotions get caught in your throat and you feel your eyes sting. Furiously, you wipe your eyes with your hands, refusing to cry in front of him.

Tangerine hasn't said a word. He's looking at you but you can't read his expression. You hate it. You shut your eyes, ready to call it quits, and tell him to leave, but then you feel the bed dip again and you feel his hands cup your cheeks. Your eyes snap open.

"Don't cry," he whispers, his thumb sliding under your eyes and catching your tears, "Please, don't cry because of a stupid bastard like me," he cracks a smile, hoping you'll smile too but when you don't and he sighs, "Okay, I was a dick, a real fuckin' dick, and you didn't deserve any of that. I'm sorry."

You nod, still listening to him, "You really were a dick," you whisper.

Tangerine chuckles and nods too. "Yeah. I was," he pauses and moves his thumb across your cheeks as if admiring you some more, "Do ya really believe I'd fuck ya for this to be a one-time thing, luv? That I'd just throw ya away after?"

Your cheeks feel warm. "I- I don't know,"

"You do know. You think I would do that to ya," Tangerine says, his voice low.

"I mean—that's what you do don't you? I've known you for years, Tan. All those girls—"

Tangerine suddenly laughs and his hands drop from your face. "Peach, you aren't those girls," he says, suddenly serious, "I wasn't just making it up when I said how hard it is for me to listen to you in my ear all the time. Not because you're annoying—which sometimes you are but that's beside the point—but because I haven't been able to stop thinking about you for years. You're all I goddamn think about. Do you understand how hard that is for me?"

You just frown, shaking your head a little. "No. This doesn't make sense. Why now—why not yesterday? Or months ago? Or years ago?"

Tangerine runs a hand in his hair and lets out a breath. "Because I didn't want to but I snapped, I snapped, okay? I'm not fuckin' proud of it. I yelled at you and I felt so bad after I didn't know what to do with myself anymore—

—you're always there for Lem and me, and I realized, after that fuckin' earpiece broke, that I hated not having your pretty voice in my ear anymore. It felt like I'd lost you—do you have any idea how scared that made me feel, even when I knew it was irrational and that you were completely safe?" His words come out jumbled and strained. "I fuckin' hated it, I hated feeling like that so I snapped," he finishes.

You stare at him, his words hitting you hard. You've never seen him like this and it scares you, but it also turns you on some more. Why does he have to be so fucking hot? "And I'm sorry. I am. I would never throw you away. I don't want to throw you away after this—especially after fucking you—that's the last thing I would want! I– I-"

You stare at him some more, your eyes wide, "You what—?"

Tangerine pauses, "I love you," he says, articulating every word so you hear him clearly.

"You love me?"

"Yes."

"As in love love?"

"Fuckin' hell Peach, ya want me to scream it at ya or somethin'? I'm in love with ya. I love ya more than anythin' I fuckin' have. You're my everything. I love you so damn much."

All your anger, doubt, and shame instantly vanished into thin air. He loves you. All this time he'd loved and he was just shit at expressing his emotions? You laugh, covering your mouth with your hand as happiness overwhelms you.

"Are ya laughing at me?" Tangerine's voice cuts in the air and you focus on him. He looks surprised and hurt.

Your smile falters and you shake your head. There is so much you want to tell him that you're at a loss for words. He looks so pretty like this, sitting in front of you, and your hands find his cheek instead of using words.

Your fingers skim the bandage that's still wrapped around his ear and you want to ask him if it still hurts. You want to ask him so many things. He's staring at you, chest heaving, and you don't think as you kiss him.

It's softer than the previous passionate kiss you'd shared. Only, Tangerine reacts with as much eagerness as earlier. His hands find your back and he presses you against him, your lips sliding against yours. It's intense and lovely all in the same.

"I love you too," you say quietly between kisses.

"Say it louder," Tangerine suddenly hums, his eyes shut in pleasure. You think he needs you to talk louder because one of his ears is bandaged and hurt.

So, you do as he asks and it earns you another kiss, however when Tangerine mutters, "I wanna hear ya say it again," you know he heard you fine. His voice is so love sick you just grin and wrap your arms around him, your hands bunching in his curls.

"I love you, Tangerine," you say breathlessly, "I love you."

"You have no idea how happy ya just made ma, luv," he responds instantly, running his hand over your cheek as he looks into your eyes. "God, I'd die for ya," he mutters and you frown, slapping his arm a little.

"Don't talk about you dying, you git," you reprimand, and Tangerine smirks.

He kisses your neck and with a teasing tone he reassures you, "Ya have nothin' to worry about, luv. I'd much rather live for you. You have all of my heart, darlin'. It's all yours," he guides your hand to press your palm against his chest and you feel how quickly his heart is beating.

"This beats for you."

You smile and kiss his lips once more as you bring his other hand to your chest too. "And I'm yours," you whisper. "Only yours."

And until then, you'd never seen Tangerine's grin widen as widely as it did when you said those words.

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