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suhkusa · 4 months ago

Text

HELL OF A WOMAN.

PAIRING. Bakugou Katsuki x f!Reader

CW. slight enemies-to-lovers, some angst but not heavy, fluff, you're both snarky (romantic), ~4k words, slice of life, reader has a healing quirk

A/N. i'd say slowburn but it's only slowburn because i barely ever write fics this long lol

Throughout your time in the nurse’s office as Recovery Girl’s student apprentice, you’ve met many different students. They all varied– whether it be their quirk, their grade, or even the injury they had come in for.

Students from the general education, support and management departments rarely ever made their rounds to the nurse’s office, only coming in for a simple cut or bruise.

That left you with those in the hero department.

You got along well with nearly all of them, even going as far as becoming friends with a few. And while that was true, of course there were gonna be some who you couldn’t get along with. But, there was specifically one student you could not stand. And he’d probably say the same thing for you as well.

It was none other than Bakugou Katsuki.

———

The first time you really interacted with Bakugou Katsuki was within the first month of your apprenticeship. It was in your 3rd year, and you had already been managing well.

Your day had started off fantastic. Recovery Girl had left you to run the office by yourself, thoroughly trusting your working and communication skills, so that she could run errands out of town.

The office hadn’t been too busy, allowing you time to finish a bit of your homework at your own little desk next to hers. A few people came and left, just needing a simple healing of their arm or leg.

You had been lost in thought when he slammed the door open, practically huffing as he walked in. Putting your pencil down, your wide eyes looked up and met his own. It felt as though he was burning a hole straight through your skull with the way he stared you down.

You didn’t even have to ask to know who he was. In your first and second year, his face was plastered nearly everywhere throughout the media. Bakugou Katsuki. But you’d never talked to him. Well, until now.

Assuming he’d be like every other person who walked through that door, stating their business then quietly leaving, you broke the deafening silence.

“Uh, yes?” you let out, cringing internally at the way the words came out.

Bakugou looked around the room before back at you, “Where the hell is the old woman at?” he spat.

You were seemingly surprised at his not-so-subtle entrance and dirty language.

“If you meant Recovery Lady by “old woman”, then she’s out of town for some errands. I can help you if–”

“And who the hell are you?” he snapped before you finished, impatience laced in the way he spoke and stood before you.

You could practically feel how your jaw dropped and eyebrows furrowed at his blunt question. If he didn’t hold back, then why should you?

“I’m Y/N L/N, I’m Recovery Lady’s helper. Now,” you put on the most calm and collected voice you could manage, “what the hell do you want?”

The day was going well, before now at least, and you were not going to let some egoistic, cocky guy ruin it for you. Tug of war is a game with two different sides, and you weren’t gonna let him win victoriously.

Bakugou’s face scrunched up at the words you spat right back at him, opening his mouth to retort something– probably an insult– before letting it fall shut with a grunt.

“What the– Just put a bandage on this shit,” he held his arm out for you to see a scrape wound running up the length of it.

You raised an eyebrow as you glanced between the injury and his eyes that looked down at you expectantly. And waited.

“The fuck you staring at?” he spoke– yelled, really– before stepping a bit closer.

A smirk tugged up at the corner of your lips before you sat back in your spinning chair, crossing a leg over the other. Like you were the one expecting something.

“You–”

“Please.” you cut him off, lifting a hand to inspect your nails nonchalantly. Hm, maybe you should get them done.

“Like hell I’m saying that, do something about–”

“Please.” you repeated, emphasizing the word in a louder tone. You looked at him from behind your lifted hand, the smirk that once teased at your mouth now sitting there fully– mocking him.

“Fine! Fuckin’ fine!” Bakugou snarled, his pearly whites peeking from under his lips. “Will you please do something about this?”

Satisfied, you responded, “‘Kay,”

———

Perhaps you should’ve bit your tongue before you spoke to the oh so great Bakugou Katsuki. In your defense, you didn’t know he’d hold it against you. You were joking, obviously. It was obvious. Right?

And so, everytime he walked into the nurse’s office, he’d send you the same nasty glare, practically seething through his teeth as he made eye contact with you. You knew exactly why he did the gesture every time he came in, but how long did this guy hold grudges for? It wasn’t like you publicly humiliated him or anything.

“Why are you always looking at me like that?” you asked him one day as the Recovery Lady escorted him to one of the vacant cots, leg stretched out as you leaned back in your chair.

“Hah? Like what?” he grunted in your direction as he took a seat, an eyebrow raised in curiosity? Irritation? Probably both.

“Mm,” you looked up to the roof as if you were thinking, “Like you like me or something, I mean it’s really flattering but you don’t have to sta—”

“As if. I’d rather watch an elephant take a dump than stare at your face any day,” Bakugou inputted as he lifted his arm to allow Recovery Lady to heal the injury along his bicep.

“Oh really? I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff, Bakugou,”

You fidgeted with the pen in your hand as you watched his face scrunch up.

“You know what—”

Just as he was about to rise and stand from his spot, Recovery Lady quickly and gently pushed him to sit back down.

“Y/N,” she emphasized your name with a familiar tone, “I think we’re running low on bandages, could you go get some from the storage room?”

Even though her words were anything but hostile, you and Bakugou could tell she was scolding you. You let out a sigh.

“Yeah, I can,”

Getting up from your seat, you set your things down before making your way to the door. Not before stealing one more glance at Bakugou. He was also staring back at you, but this time there was a bit of cockiness in his eyes. Getting the last word never hurt anybody.

You slid the door open, eyes still locked with his, “You know, you’d probably look cute as well if you didn’t look like you were constipated 24/7,”

“The fuck—”

Quickly sticking your tongue out at him, you shut the door before he was able to finish his sentence.

———

The nurse’s office had been particularly quiet today. The slow day in the office gave you more free time to yourself, which allowed you to catch up on a couple past assignments. Only two or three people came in before the lunch bell rang. After packing your bag, you waved off Recovery Lady as you excused yourself to the cafeteria.

And when you returned, it was still quiet. You quickly noticed that it was also void of Recovery Lady, the short woman nowhere to be seen. As you slid the door shut behind you, you heard a hushed groan come from one of the beds. Your head snapped to the source of the noise, quietly stepping closer to the person.

Almost naturally, you recognized the disheveled blonde hair. Bakugou.

But this was different. New. He was quiet for once, and the eyes that almost always were glaring at you were closed shut. Your body relaxed at the unusual sight of him. And maybe if you were crazy, you would’ve thought he was cute.

As you got closer, you noticed the slight crease in his eyebrows, as well as the bandage that was wrapped around his torso.

Perhaps you got too caught up in the moment, though. Too caught up in the way his chest slowly rose with each breath, the way his skin seemed to glow under the sun’s filtered light. So caught up that you didn’t realize those familiar crimson eyes were staring back up at you.

“You a pervert now?” his voice cut through silence, causing you to tense and step back. “The hell are you looking at?”

For a moment, it felt like your voice was caught in your throat. You caught yourself trying to find something to look at. Something other than him.

“Looks like you’re in quite a predicament,” you commented with a breathy laugh, not really knowing what else to say. Stupid joke.

“No, really?” sarcasm was laced in his tone, but you could hear the struggle as he grunted quietly afterwards.

Maybe you’d spare him for the day.

“Recovery Lady hasn’t gotten to you, yet?” you asked as you slowly made your way to your desk, setting down your bag.

“Nah,” he let out a huff as he sat up, “Shit— she wasn’t here when I got here,”

Letting out a hum in response, “Do… Do you want me to help you then?” you asked, even though you already knew the likely answer.

“What the hell do you think—”

“You know, on second thought I have some homework—”

He let out an exasperated sigh before surrendering once again, “Yes. Yes, please. Help me,”

Biting back a small smile, you turned back around to make your way back to the injured man. You pulled up a chair next to the bed, sliding in closer. After gesturing him to lay back down, your hands carefully peeled back the bandages that covered the wound. You’d never get used to the sight of blood.

You could feel the way his body tensed every time your hand neared his injury, though you tried your best not to touch it at all.

“Sorry if it hurts a little,” you said, lifting your hands over the gash, “Just do your best to relax,”

“Whatever,” Bakugou responded as he turned his head away from you.

It happened in a flash. From his peripheral view, he saw your hands glow, and the next thing he knew: he was fine again. Not a scar, scratch, or wound in sight. Like it wasn’t even there.

Though you enjoyed the perplexed look in his eyes, you could feel yourself becoming rather light-headed. You took a deep breath before standing up and going back to your desk to get your water bottle.

As you took a sip of your water, you watched as he sat up in the cot, lifting up his shirt to examine the skin.

“Never seen a quirk before?” you laughed at his amusement.

His face quickly snapped back to his normal grouchy look, “No, just didn’t know you had a quirk at all, you usually just bandage my injuries up. Plus healing quirks are rare,”

“Mm, I get that a lot,” you mused, twisting the cap back onto your water, “It’s just a normal healing quirk though. I’ve been working with Recovery Lady to train it’s capabilities,”

Bakugou grunted in response. Silence filled the room for a moment before he decided to speak up.

“Gonna head back to class,” he stated curtly, swiftly putting his blazer back on before stepping towards the door, “Thanks, I guess,”

With one last glance back at you, he was gone. Leaving you and the rapid thumping of your heart alone in the room once again.

———

“Is anyone sitting here?” a gruff voice came from above.

With the rest of the noise in the cafeteria, you nearly didn’t hear him. Your eyes gazed up from your food toward him, eyebrow shooting up in question.

“Uhm,” you swallowed the food in your mouth before responding, “what does it look like to you?”

You gestured to the empty seats around you before going back to poking at your lunch.

“Tch, just asking,” Bakugou murmured under his breath as he tugged a chair out from under the table and took a seat.

As you ate, you couldn’t help but sneak a couple of glances his way. Just why was he sitting with you? Was this his own silent way of tormenting you?

“So,” you started before clearing your throat, “what do you want?”

You could see him freeze mid-bite, eyes shooting up to you.

“To eat? What else?” he grunted nonchalantly.

Well no shit.

“Oh really? Didn’t know that,” you rolled your eyes, “why not eat with your friends?”

“Don’t wanna,”

Your lips pulled into a thin line before you gave up. You dismissed him as you continued to finish your lunch. After this you’d probably have enough time to take a nap in the nurse’s office. In an attempt to finish your food without starting some random argument with the blonde next to you, you kept the interactions to a minimum.

After you finished, you debated your options. Did you say goodbye or just… leave? Just leaving would be rude, wouldn’t it? Well who cares, you sure don’t–

“Hold on,” he called out, catching your attention.

You watched as he quickly finished the rest of his lunch, gathering his stuff before standing up.

“What–”

“Alright, let’s go,” he said as he walked past you towards the garbage can.

“Uh,” you followed shortly after him with your trash, “go where?”

Stacking his tray with the others, he sent you a glare with a rough, “Where else?”

When you didn’t respond with a word but instead with a confused look, Bakugou sighed and continued.

“The nurse’s office,”

Your mouth dropped open in a silent “Ohh”. You tugged your bag over your shoulder as you walked up next to him.

The walk through the halls was rather silent other than the couple of students that walked past the two of you. But not a word was said between the two of you. At least until he opened his mouth.

“So, what are your plans after graduating?” he asked, hands in his pocket as he continued to walk by you.

You let your eyes scan the exterior through the wide UA windows when you responded, “Hm, I think I’ll find a job in a hospital? I think I wanna work in some field with heroes, but I’m not quite sure yet… And you?”

“Obviously I’m gonna a hero,” Bakugou scoffed with a smirk, “Gonna be the best one, at that,”

“I see,” you let a light laugh slip out at his confidence.

“What’s funny, huh?” he asked, voice suddenly scarily serious.

Your eyes widened, “Nothing, nothing– It’s just we barely have normal conversations like this. I guess,” you quickly added.

Bakugou hummed in response, coming to a quick stop as the two of you reached the nurse’s office’s door.

“Well,” you step closer to the door, “Thank you for walking me here, Bakugou,” you smiled.

“Katsuki,”

“Hm?”

He rolled his eyes, “Just call me Katsuki,” he turned the other way quickly before waving you off, “Later, nerd,”

A laugh escaped you as you watched him walk away, waiting a couple of more moments before walking into the office.

Maybe if you stared for a little longer you would’ve seen the way his ears reddened at your smile.

———

“Oh! Good afternoon Bakugou and Kirishima!” the voice of the elderly woman snapped you awake, causing you to jump in your seat.

You could hear a snicker come from a certain person as you turned to see the two who entered the room.

Your eyes were met with a seemingly beaten up Kirishima and Bakugou, the two having scruffs, scratches and bruises on their skin.

“What were you guys doing this time?” Recovery Lady escorted the two to their own beds, tending to Bakugou’s injuries and gesturing to you to help Kirishima.

“Ah, just training, same as always,” the red head responded with a smile, “Oh, hey Y/N,”

You could feel the ends of your mouth tug upwards at his greeting, “Hey,”

“How’s everything been?”

As you continued your chatter with Kirishima and helped him with his injuries, you didn’t seem to see or feel the daggers of stares that Bakugou sent in your direction.

On the other hand, Bakugou didn’t even know why he felt like this.

What was he pissed about? It’s not like the two of you are friends. Did you consider him a friend? Yet why did it feel so utterly annoying to watch you interact with some other guy?

That was beyond Bakugou.

Maybe he already knew the answer. And maybe he didn’t want to come to terms with what that answer held.

Either way he couldn’t take another second of this.

“Bakugou? Where are you going—”

The sound of Recovery Lady’s frantic voice caught the attention of you and Kirishima. Your eyebrow raised in confusion as the blonde made his way to the door with the little lady following him.

“You’re not fully healed yet,” the old woman claimed.

“It’s fine,”

“Let him,” Kirishima said after Bakugou slammed the door shut. “He’s been a little off lately,”

You wrapped a bandage around Kirishima’s elbow, “Off? How?”

Kirishima’s eyes looked up in thought, “He’s been kinda closed off lately; barely comes to our hangouts,”

“Ooh,” you sighed as you continued helping the guy in front of you.

There was a seedling of worry planted in your stomach, and you barely had any clue why. It’s not like you guys were close. He was just some guy who came to the nurse’s office like every other student. Maybe those late nights staying up were finally catching up to you.

After cleaning up and sending Kirishima off, you were finally left alone. Recovery Lady had left a while ago to fetch some supplies from the storage room. And so that left you and your thoughts alone in the office.

———

A week had gone by.

A week had gone by, and there had been radio silence from Bakugou.

Either training had slowed down or he was completely avoiding you. And either way, it still made you a bit sad. Only a bit.

Days in the nurse’s office were slow and lonely. You never made a real connection with anyone. People came and people left. They come to get healed and leave. No side talk, albeit a few exceptions. Bakugou being one of those.

There were times where you thought you saw him entering the nurse’s office when you were leaving, but the glimpses were so small that you chalked it up to your imagination.

It felt like he was consuming your every thought, so you had no choice but to accept the fact that maybe you had a crush on Bakugou. Maybe.

But so what? That was normal, everyone had a crush on him at one point. Too bad you fell victim along with the rest of them, though.

Admitting to yourself that you liked Bakugou was hard, but having to actually deal with the feelings you had was harder. One, because you’ve never really had a serious crush. And two, he was nowhere to be seen. Having a crush on him made your heart beat so quick that you’d use your quirk on yourself to make sure you weren’t having heart problems.

Soon, one week turned into two.

And it seemed like the office was only getting busier as the third years prepared for their finals. Everyone was in and out as they practiced their hand to hand combat more vigorously and more often.

The first couple of days, it was easy. But towards the end of the week, you began to fatigue. Having to balance your own finals and running around the office having to use your quirk over and over was doing a number on you.

The injuries were becoming worse, the amount was increasing. At times, you were dizzy with how many times you’d have to keep turning around from bed to bed to help someone new.

Then there was a calm. You barely noticed a full week of finals had swung by, leaving the clinic empty and quiet.

“Is it alright if I nap during the passing period?” you turn in your chair to Recovery Lady, who is stocking up the medicine cabinets.

“Of course, you should be fine, if anything I can handle anyone who comes in,” she tells you.

You sigh in relief as you walk to the nearest bed on weak legs, basically melting into it as soon as your body hits the cushion. You knock out on the spot, letting your well-deserved slumber overcome you.

———

Your slumber is interrupted by a slight jolt to the bed frame you’re lying on. You groan as you flip onto your other side. The light escapes through your lashes, creating a blurred light illusion with a silhouette. Your eyes shot open, a silhouette?

You become conscious of yourself as soon as you realize the one before you is none other than Bakugou Katsuki. There’s a stupid grin on his face which makes you want to slap it right off of him. You sneakily nudge at the drool on the side of your mouth and adjust your clothing and appearance.

“Finally awake, sleeping beauty?” he says from the seat beside you, and it feels like forever since you’ve last heard that voice of his.

“Yeah, because of someone,” you grumbled, eyebrows scrunching up. He laughs, laughs, as his eyes focus on you.

“It’s getting late,” is all he says.

You have half a mind to respond, until you remember that he’s been avoiding you. Your eyebrows tighten together impossibly closer, as you flip to face away from him.

“You’re a dick,” you say matter-of-factly. “You’ve been avoiding me, I’m not stupid,”

Your eyes are jittery as they look everywhere. Trying to focus on something in the room to distract yourself from all of the possibilities of what might come out of his mouth.

“Why do you care?”

His words cause you to sit up, facing him once more. “What do you even mean, why? I used to see you everyday, then suddenly you just walked out and I never saw you again,”

Bakugou’s eyes slightly roll at your words, and it kind of hurts.

“I just thought maybe we were…” your words trail off causing Bakugou to stare at you more intently.

“Were what?”

“I don’t know, friends, or some shit,” you bury your head in your hands out of embarrassment.

“Did I say we weren’t?”

“Well, you never said we were,”

“Didn’t think I had to,” he says, “Thought you were smarter than that, doc,”

You smile at the nickname. “You can leave now, I’m awake, I just have to close up the clinic. Why were you here in the first place?”

“Had to make sure you weren’t dead or something,”

Laughing, you get up to fix the bed sheets. The words that fly out of your mouth come out on their own.

“What, do you like me or something?”

“Probably,”

His careless response didn’t register in your mind at first, but when it did, you could feel the heat rush from the back of your neck up to the tips of your ears.

“W-What? You can’t just say that… weirdo,” your eyes flick up at him then back down to the sheets, fluffing up the already neat pillows.

Silence filters through the room, the only noise filling your ears being the noise of cotton and linen being moved around. Along with the sound of your heartbeat thumping in your ears. It felt so loud, that you swear he could probably hear it as well. You didn’t know what to do, was this real life?

Did those words really just come out of his mouth?

His head tilted and you could feel his gaze on you. It was nerve-wracking, and you were just hoping and praying he’d say something that’d clear your mind. A small, “just kidding,” would be nice right about now. The hurt you’d feel from that would be better than the anxiety you felt at this instant.

“Say what?” he mocks, and it causes your eye to twitch.

You decide you’re not playing these games with Katsuki Bakugou today, “Oh nothing, must’ve been the wind,” you flutter your eyes before turning the other direction to fix up another bed that looks like it’d been used.

A hand on your wrist puts a stop to your motions, and it immediately makes your head turn back to meet his eyes.

“B- Katsuki–”

You’d usually be able to come up with something snarky, but right now all your words were caught in your throat. You were actually scared to say the wrong thing for once.

“You were joking right?” you ask him, nervous for what his answer might be.

Bakugou is quick to retort, “Depends, were you?”

You gulp down your anxiety before giving him a response, “N-No,”

“Then? Use that smart little brain of yours, doc,”

“Say it,” you demand, “I’m not playing this little game with you, so say it,”

His ruby eyes roll before connecting gazes with yours once again, “I like you, or something,” he mimics your words from earlier.

You can feel yourself fluster. The dizziness in your head almost made you convince yourself that you were dreaming. If this was a dream, you wanted All Might himself to pop out and punch you across the face.

“Why don’t you say something now, hm?” his grip around your wrist loosens to a more gentle grasp.

His face closens to yours, the distance between the two of you is only breaths-length.

“Since you’re so smart, you tell me,” you sass, “Take a guess, smartass,”

A smile quirks at the corner of his mouth, “You’re such a dick,” he whispers under his breath before closing the distance completely, his lips locking with yours.

Your eyes widen at the pure shock, but you ultimately melt into the kiss. It’s sweet and you can feel the two of you smiling into it.

When the two of you part, you can feel slight embarrassment wash over you. “You’re an ass, you didn’t even let me confess, my high school sweetheart experience is ruined forever,

Bakugou lets out a breathy laugh at your words, “Thought you wanted me to take a guess,”

“And if you were wrong?”

“Hah, as if,”

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha angst #mha angst #bnha fluff #raeworks #bnha bakugo x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #mha fanfics

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jasmines-library · 8 months ago

Note

Remus Lupin whose sense of smell heightens around the full moon. You come to him and you’re stinking of Sirius. Obviously, he’s really jealous, especially around this time, and he’s clutching you to his side, rubbing his scent all over you, basically claiming his territory.

Lunar Possession

(Art not mine, found on Pinterest. Cred to original owner)

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: When I say I dropped EVERYTHING the second this came into my inbox...

Warnings: Pre-full moon remus angst, possessive-ish (?) remus

Word Count: 1.7k

⛧ MARAUDERS MASTERLIST⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Remus Lupin was not in a good mood. He was antsy. With the full moon so close, everything put him on edge: His ears seemed to twitch at the smallest shift in the floorboards and his nose seemed to smell every person that passed his dormitory door on their way to and from the common room. It made his stomach churn, like a boat being tossed about on the sea. It made his head pound in a steady rhythm that made it hard to focus on anything else beside the tedious beat. It was followed by a tightness too; pressing harshly against his temples.

Remus thought he should be used to it by now. He had been dealing with the effects of the full moon for practically as long as he could remember, but he would never truly get used to it. Having you and Sirius by his side always helped though. Remus wouldn’t ever dare admit it out loud, he spent far too much time trying to convince the two of you that he was dangerous and not to be trusted, but you and Sirius calmed his nerves. You made the transformation just that bit more bearable.

He would forever remember the day that you revealed your animagus form to him. Remus could hardly find the words to express how he felt. Never before in his life had he had someone care for him the way that you and Sirius did. James too. He was scared at first, Remus didn’t know how his friends were going to react when he told them about his lycanthropy. Almost certainly he had expected you to run and to never speak to him again. But that night you did the opposite and held him close. And Remus had never felt more loved and accepted. Now, of course he was cautious at first. Angry. Scared. But slowly the three of you had talked him into realising it was a good idea: He was coming home after each transformation with fewer injuries and seemed to be managing much easier with your help. Of course, seeing the scratches and cuts appear on his friends bodies each night made him grimace and try to convince you to stop. He was supposed to protect you and, instead, he was allowing you to get hurt. But you stayed. And Remus was impossibly grateful for that.

Remus groaned as another ache shot through his body, and he turned tugging the blanket closer to him. The moon made him feel the need to hold you close all of the time. He yearned for the smell of your shampoo and the coolness of your skin flush against his. When the moon made him get like this Remus often found himself missing class. All of the people just made his nerves sizzle. Unfortunately, your boyfriend's condition did not mean that you also got a free pass to skip class. Or Sirius for that matter. So, instead of having you close, Remus lay curled up in his bed as his bones ached, waiting antagonisingly for you to return.

When you finally pushed the door open quietly as to stop it creaking, you were clinging onto Sirius’ arm. You arm was looped between his and you leaned your head against the crook of his shoulder. The two of you had been like that all day, he could tell.

You and Sirius had had a busy day to say the least. Not only had potions class run over, but you also had homework that you needed to catch up on during your lunch break. Not that you actually got much done with Sirius around. Sirius was an observer. He could tell from the way you held your shoulders higher than usual and walked with heavier steps that you were stressed. So he did all he could to help you relax a little. Knowing that you were also worried about your boyfriend, he placed gentle kisses to your forehead whilst you worked, or stole them from your lips in the corridor. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you to his chest to try and expel the tension from your body. Your boyfriend's efforts seemed to have helped because by the time the bell finally rang and the doors spilled open to reveal the flood of students, you were feeling much better. Especially because you could now fill the empty space that Remus’ absence had created.

“Rem?” Your voice was quiet and tender, near a whisper in case he was asleep, or was finding everything too loud.

He peeked his head out from under the blanket, his hair tousled from hours of restlessness. You smiled at him brightly. It was enough for him to return it, and lift his sour mood.

“Hey, Dove.” he greeted, shuffling out of bed to greet you. He couldn’t help but eye his boyfriend who stood with his hand placed tenderly on your lower back. Remus’ fingers twitched. “Good day?”

You hummed, slipping off your shoes and making your way over him to wrap him up in your embrace. You knew it had likely been a tough day for him. “Better now you’re here.”

As you took another step closer to him and away from Sirius the tender moment between the two of you was interrupted. At first, Remus had thought it was because he was standing right next to you. That his nose was getting confused, another side effect of the moon, but now you were standing right beside him across the room from your other partner, Remus knew that he was not mistaken. You stank entirely of Sirius: warm, musky, rich, honey-like and a little earthy. It was complemented by the faint smell of cigarette smoke and leather from his jacket. Normally, the boy would savour the smell of his partner, but you smelt so much like him that it completely drowned out everything about your scent. Something possessive inside him seemed to switch on.

Remus snatched you up immediately, pressing you so tight to his chest that you thought he was going to smother you. He couldn’t help the glare he sent to his boyfriend over the top of your head. Glowering, he pressed a kiss to your head as his fingers reached to fiddle with the hem of your jumper, trying to inch it upward.

You pulled away and frowned at him. Sirius also bore a similar expression. “Moony?”

“You smell of him.” It was a simple statement that came out almost as a growl in his voice.

“Who?”

Remus gestured to Sirius, who had moved to sit on the edge of his bed, with a nod of his head. When he spoke, his tone was filled with something Remus did not possess often. Jealousy. “Sirius.”

Sirius furrowed his brows, before realisation crossed his face and he gave you a look. Remus was feeling left out. He had been feeling rotten all day and now he was being left with a constant reminder of how you and Sirius had been spending the day clinging onto each other instead of him. To make matters worse, the moon was making him possessive: he needed to state what was his.

“Take it off.” Remus’ voice was demanding, but you could hear the need hidden deep behind it. “Please.”

You nodded, your hands slipping over him as you helped him to remove your jumper. Remus tossed it to Sirius and pulled you back to him. Although the jumper was gone, which had helped a little, he could still smell his boyfriend all over you. Understanding this from the way Remus shifted antstily, being the loving boyfriend that he is, Sirius moved to Remus’ trunk to pull out one of his jumpers for you to wear. Before he could reach it however, Remus snapped.

“Don’t touch them.” Remus moved toward his trunk and took a sweater before a very startled Sirius could react. Siri nodded slowly, taking a step back and raising his hands in a surrendering gesture. When after seeing you slip it on, the boy released a breath he hadn’t even known he was holding. It was better, but his mind still screamed at him: mineminemine.

“You alright Moons?” Sirius asked hesitantly, unsure or not whether to approach or not. Remus was still holding you close to him, peppering you with kisses, though he seemed to be less tense now.

He hummed, twisting toward his boyfriend but still not letting you go. This time his expression held much less venom than it had before “Sorry…” He started “I don’t know what came over me.”

Sirius took his chance to move toward him. Instinctively, Moony turned you away, but instead of trying to move you as he thought Sirius would, his boyfriend placed an arm on his shoulder. “It’s alright Rem. I understand.”

Remus tucked your head beneath his chin as your hand wandered to his own to fiddle with the rings on his fingers. “Still. I guess I thought I could handle being alone today… but it was all just a bit much. And seeing her come in here smelling of you…”

“Shh” Siri hushed, smoothing Remus’ hair. “You want to lay down?”

Remus nodded. “Is that okay with you, Dove?” He asked.

“Of course.” You smiled. Taking Remus’ hand you moved over to the bed, shifting the covers out of the way so you could climb beneath them. Remus followed, tucking you close to his body once more, and then Sirius lay on the other side of Remus, resting his head on his shoulder.

Remus relaxed into the mattress as you ran lazy circles over the palm of the hand he was using to keep you in place. He pressed his lips to your head.

“I love you.” He murmured. “I’m so glad I can call you mine.”

“And we are glad to be yours.” Siri told him.

“Thank you for doing this. I’m sorry if I overreacted…”

“Never.” You said. “Anything for our Moony.”

Remus pulled you closer to him. You had a feeling you weren’t going to be moving anytime soon.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

MARAUDERS TAGS:

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

#marauders x reader #wolfstar x reader #wolfstar #marauders #Remus Lupin #Remus Lupin x Reader #Sirius black x reader #Sirius black #full moon #werewolf #possessive #remus lupin x sirius black #remus x sirius #Remus lupin x Sirius black x Reader #Remus x Sirius x Reader #fluff #angst

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steddieas-shegoes · 8 months ago

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for @thefreakandthehair (and @vecnuthy and @wormdebut while we’re at it) because sometimes you help a baseball player through French class so they can stay on the team and then they end up on the Savannah bananas and you decide to put the fictional men into situations about it *shrugs*

Eddie was going to have to transfer out of this class. This was one of his easiest classes and it was filled with every jock on campus attempting to fill their foreign language requirement with French.

And they were all failing. And annoying. And obnoxious.

And a few of them were also hot.

But Eddie wasn’t gonna focus on that!

He was gonna finish today’s assignment and then head straight to the advising office to find another class that worked with his work schedule.

“Hey,” the guy next to him whispered as the teacher droned on about conjugating verbs. “Do you have any idea what the fuck the homework was?”

Eddie turned to glare at the person, but his face dropped when he noticed who it was.

The campus celebrity: Steve Harrington.

Couldn’t quite make it on the college baseball team, but managed to make the sort-of professional, but mostly joke team Hawkins Hooligans.

Eddie didn’t like sports, never had. He could appreciate that it took skill and whatnot, but he didn’t care much to watch it or make celebrities of people who were just really good at one very specific thing usually involving some kind of ball. But he could appreciate a joke. And this team had jokes.

Steve was actually apparently good enough to play pro, had even been scouted by the MLB his senior year of high school. One week before his professional tryout, he tore a muscle in his shoulder, had to sit for three months and had to do physical therapy for another three, and voila! No pro ball for him. No college either since he missed spring training.

But he still had skill, and he still had a father with a lot of pull in the business, even if it wasn’t quite enough to get him on the Yankees or whatever.

So he was biding his time on the Hooligans until next year when he could try out for the college team again, maybe increase his chances of a real pro career.

Eddie definitely hadn’t watched videos of him during their first few games of the season where they faced the Indy Idols and the Chicago Charades.

He definitely hadn’t gotten a weird flutter in his stomach when Steve had been the one to lip sync to Hot For Teacher while pretending his bat was a guitar.

He definitely didn’t have a crush on Steve.

“Uh. Dude?” Steve asked him again, shaking him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah. It was the study guide for the first quiz. Not due until next class though,” he whispered back.

“Oh. Thanks.”

Eddie turned his attention back to the professor, not really needing to pay attention since he already knew quite a bit of French.

A tap on his shoulder made him yelp, and the entire room turned to him. He waved apologetically before turning to Steve with a murderous look.

“What?” He hissed out.

“Do you understand this?”

“Yes and you probably would too if you stopped talking to me.”

Eddie was ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him to let Steve keep talking to him for as long as he wanted.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Steve huffed before sitting back in his seat and folding his arms across his chest. He mumbled something else that sounded like ‘I’m just stupid’ but Eddie couldn’t be 100% sure.

“A lot of this stuff is just English spelled a little differently.” Eddie sighed. “You could almost definitely figure it out if you took some notes.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Eddie’s brows scrunched together as he glanced at Steve’s red face.

Hm. There was definitely something to unpack here.

“You can borrow mine if you want,” Eddie offered as he watched the professor switch slides on the presentation. “I don’t really need them until the final.”

“Oh!” Steve sounded genuinely surprised by his offer, like he hadn’t been basically asking for help only a moment ago. “You don’t have to do that. I mean, it wouldn’t do much good for me anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Steve had Eddie’s full attention now.

“I’m. I-“ Steve sighed. “I’m dyslexic, man. Reading’s hard for me.”

Well, fuck. Eddie felt like an asshole now.

“Oh.” Eddie looked down at his scribbled notes, cringing at the thought of someone else trying to read them, let alone someone who already struggled with reading from a printed page. “Yeah, my handwriting is shit so it’d probably be useless to you. Shit, it’s almost useless to me.”

Steve snorted, immediately covering his mouth to avoid any more noise from escaping. Eddie could see he was still smiling though. His eyes were very expressive.

“Don’t you have accommodations?” Eddie asked him.

“Nah, my dad doesn’t believe it’s a problem.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Said I just need to focus more and it’ll ‘work itself out.’”

“He sounds like he’s a lot of fun at parties.”

Steve snorted again. “Yeah, a blast.”

“So you aren’t a natural at French?”

Steve shook his head. “I’m barely a natural at English.”

“I could help you?” Eddie was an idiot. An idiot with a crush on someone who would never be interested in anything he had to offer except tutoring.

“Help me? You’d help me?” Steve seemed eager, maybe a little desperate.

Eddie kinda liked that.

“I mean, yeah. If you’re actually willing to put in the work and not expect me to just do the work for you.”

Steve smiled. God, that was a nice smile. Eddie was absolutely fucked.

“I work well with a reward system,” he smirked. “If you’re willing.”

Eddie’s eyes widened momentarily as the realization sunk in that he’d just been flirted with.

By Steve Harrington.

“Oh, I can definitely work with that.”

Steve nodded once, grinned at Eddie as he picked up his pen and ripped off a small piece of his unused notebook paper. He scribbled something down and folded it once before handing it to Eddie.

“Let me know when I need to show up, Eds.”

Eddie unfolded the paper and nearly dropped it.

Stevie H. 555-555-0086 My dorm at 7? No clothes required

When Eddie looked back up, Steve was facing the front, seemingly paying attention to the lecture.

Eddie quickly pulled his phone from his pocket and put Steve’s contact info in. He could wait until after class to send him a text. He could.

Instead, he typed out something quick to hold them both over until later.

Studying naked is my favorite thing 😉

Steve’s knee nudged against his in response.

Maybe Eddie wouldn’t take that trip to advising after all.

And if he was featured on the next TikTok for the Hawkins Hooligans, with Steve fake serenading him in the stands, nobody had to know he didn’t really like sports.

He liked Steve, though. Even when Steve actually managed to play real competitive baseball. Even when Steve managed to get a spot on the Cubs.

Especially when Steve proposed to him during a game in maybe the worst recorded French of all time.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #ficlet #the team names are ridiculous on purpose #and I put this in college instead of high school because I felt like it #if anyone wants to continue please do #I’m so sleepy and can’t possibly

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kurooh · 3 months ago

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I HAVE TO GET THIS OUT RN OR ILL GO INSANE

being inarizaki’s beloved manager in high school was what made the best memories — cheering during games, helping out during practices, bonding with each member of the team, doing one or two homework assignments for atsumu so he could get by, getting gangbanged by some of them after every game.

you’d been the closest with atsumu, osamu, suna, and kita. they’d been all over you, inside and out, after celebratory team meals and such. the rest of the team had no idea about their slutty little manager, or the four whores fucking you.

after high school, everyone had moved on. the friendships were still there, you’d text or call every now and then, but it was silent for the most part. after all, everyone had grown busy with their careers and lives.

but when there’s a high school reunion and the whole team shows up, feelings resurface easily. atsumu can’t stop staring at you, osamu’s rambling about his restaurant to you more than anyone else, kita’s touches last too long to be accidental, and suna’s way too flirty for someone who’s entirely sober.

naturally, the five of you slip away and have dinner somewhere decent (osamu can’t stop critiquing the food and reminding you to go to his restaurant) before you’re in the backseat, between the twins as suna drives you all to his place.

a few games, some drinks and a blunt, and before you know it you’re bouncing on a cock and sucking one at the same time, just like old times.

“i swear yer ass has gotten even bigger,” a tipsy atsumu groans from the sidelines, watching closely.

“shut up, atsumu,” suna grunts, adjusting his hips and angling his cock further down your throat, “your voice is taking away from my turn.”

kita clicks his tongue. “i get it, everyone’s excited. but there’s no need to be rude, you two.”

atsumu whines something in the background, and you don’t quite catch it, too caught up with the way osamu’s trembling beneath you, and suna’s little gasps in between each grunt.

you squeeze your eyes shut as you choke more of his cock down, hips stilling so osamu can take the lead and drag you up and down his cock.

“pussy’s as greedy as ever,” he moans, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he watches his entire length disappear inside you over and over.

you whimper as the thick tip of suna’s cock hits the back of your throat, just as osamu’s presses into you deeply. kita nods in approval although nobody’s looking his way; he shifts on the bed, the outline of his hard on through his boxers clear.

atsumu sips away on a beer, groaning to himself as though he’s the one you’re fucking. “oh, god, princess,” the nickname rolls off his tongue smoothly and your pussy can’t help but clench, “when it’s my turn i’ll fuck ya so goddamn hard. won’t even be able ta stand up.”

#kurooh #the whorefour 💞#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #suna smut #kita smut #atsumu smut #osamu smut #osamu x reader #atsumu x reader #kita x reader #suna x reader

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covenofagatha · 26 days ago

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Nicky's mom has got it going on (Part 1)

You are best friends with Nicholas Scratch, and one day he invites you over to his house when his mom is there, and shit, you didn't realize his mom was so hot. Non-magical AU

Word count: 2100+

Warnings: 18+, allusions to smut, actual smut will be in later parts, mommy issues (duh)

“Got any plans tonight?” your best friend Nicky asks you, making easy conversation. You had been organizing books on the A-F fiction shelf at the Barnes & Noble at the mall, where you and Nicholas Scratch worked in your free time. You had met him through Westview University, where you both attended school. But when you both started working at the bookstore in the beginning of the year to make a little extra money, you two became fast friends.

“Not really. My parents are working late so I’m on my own. Probably just going to reheat leftovers and watch tv.” The campus was only twenty minutes away from your parents’ house, and ten away from his, so you both lived at home.

“You finished all the chem homework?” he asks, a teasing grin on his face. You’re both in the same Introduction to Chemistry class, with Ms. Dottie Jones. She was a stickler and gave out a packet of homework almost every day. It was everyone’s least favorite class.

You groan. Somehow you had forgotten, and it was due tomorrow. Looked like you had plans after all for the evening. “Fuck,” is all you say, Nicky laughing.

“I haven’t started it either. Want to come over and do it? I’m sure you could stay for dinner. My mom’s cooking and she can help with the homework.”

You smile, gracious for the offer. You had been over to his house a few times, but you hadn’t met his mom yet. You could use the company, and the help for sure. Chemistry was your worst subject, but Nicky was pretty good at it. Apparently his mom, Agatha Harkness, had a background in it, so she was always helping Nicky.

“That would be lovely, thank you. Do you want to go straight there after we get off?” You quickly check your watch. There’s still 45 minutes left in your shift.

“Yeah, that works. Let me text my mom and tell her that you’re coming over.”

“Will she mind?” The last thing you wanted to do was intrude. Nicky and his mom were incredibly close, as it was just the two of them, and according to Nicky, Agatha treasured the time she got to spend with him around her busy schedule. You hadn’t heard much about Nicky’s father and Agatha’s ex-husband, only that they had gotten divorced when Nicky was fourteen and was out of the picture.

“Not at all. She’s been dying to meet you.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, checking around to make sure no customers or your manager are nearby, and quickly types out a quick message. You make a mental note to text your parents when you finished your shift to let them know you were getting dinner with friends. They wouldn’t mind, plus you were sure you’d still be home before them.

“Thank you,” you say again, and get back to organizing the books.

***

You pull into the driveway, following Nicky’s car. Their house never fails to take your breath away. It’s a beautiful two story Victorian style house, with a steep roof, wrap-around porch, and large windows with paned glass. It’s almost Halloween, and clearly Nicky and his mom go all out. Inflatable ghosts, fake gravestones, pumpkins, and other decorations fill their giant yard and you can’t help but smile. Halloween is one of your favorite holidays, and this year Nicky’s mom was hosting a party for the neighborhood and you had been invited. Nicky leads you to the front door, unlocks it, and motions for you to go in first. The smell of pumpkin and cinnamon hits your nose and you inhale slowly. You can hear noises coming from the kitchen and you trail behind your friend as he leads you to the source.

In the kitchen, a woman is facing away from you, stirring something in a large pot on the stove. Her long, curly black hair tumbles down to her lower back and she is wearing a flannel with navy pants. On the island, you can see some candles flickering. So that’s where the smell was coming from.

“Mom, this is–” Nicky starts, but his mom whips around and exclaims, announcing your name before he even gets a chance.

Holy shit, is your first thought. Nicky’s mom is hot. Her long hair frames her pale face and her bright blue eyes trace you up and down. The top two buttons of her flannel are undone, so you can see her collarbones and a peek of the smooth skin of her chest.

“Oh, hi,” you stammer. “So nice to finally meet you.”

A wide smile overtakes her face and she sticks out a hand. It takes you a beat, but then you remember what you’re supposed to do. You take her hand and shake it, trying to ignore how soft her palm is.

“Nicky’s told me so much about you,” she gushes. “He clearly forgot to mention what a sight for sore eyes you are.” She playfully winks and you figure all the blood in your body has to have rushed to your cheeks, based on how hot they feel.

“Mom,” Nicky whines, shooting you an apologetic look. You let out an awkward chuckle, eyes darting back and forth between mom and son.

His mom waves a hand at him. “Yeah, yeah. Well, I’m Agatha. Nicky said you guys are going to work on some homework. Don’t hesitate to ask if you need help, and I’ll give you guys a shout when dinner is ready! Hope you like lamb stew.” Right on cue, your stomach rumbles and Agatha shoots you a smile. “Nicky, why don’t you get your friend a snack while I’m cooking?”

Nicky nods and rummages through the pantry. He grabs a box of cookies and you guys walk up to his room. You sit down at his desk and he flops onto his bed.

“Your mom is nice,” you say casually, trying not to give away how flustered you are because of her.

“She’s pretty cool. Alright, let’s get started. Last time I checked, the packet was eight pages and at least half are balancing equations.”

Ugh. That thought is enough to turn your attention from Agatha to the reality of the situation. You have a lot of homework to get done.

You have just gotten to the third page when Agatha pokes her head in. “How’s homework going?” she asks, and you and Nicky simultaneously groan. She walks over to you, stealing your paper and gently perching on the desk, which you’re sitting at. You struggle to remember how to breathe when her thigh brushes against your knee. “This one is wrong,” she says, pointing at number 13. “You have an extra oxygen on the left side.”

Nicky drops his head into the bed with a muffled swear. Agatha meets your eyes and smiles softly. Fuck, her mouth is pretty.

“Why don’t you take a break? Come downstairs and eat dinner and then we’ll work through this together,” she offers. She holds your homework back out to you and you take it, wondering if she slid her fingers across yours on purpose.

At the table, Agatha sits across from you and Nicky is to your right. She asks you all about college, your major, and what you want to do after.

“Have you guys decided what you’re wearing to the party next week?,” she then asks.

“I’m going to be a witch,” you answer, and you swear her eyes light up. “I ordered my costume last week so it should be here soon. Nicky still hasn’t figured out what he’s going as yet.”

Nicky scoffs in protest. “Hey! I’m narrowing it down between a pirate or a superhero. Also, mom loves witches so watch out.”

“Halloween is next week, dude, you better figure it out soon,” you tease and Agatha laughs.

“You tell him,” she says and the two of you share a grin.

“Whatever. I’m going to the bathroom,” Nicky says, standing up and pushing in his chair.

There is a moment of silence as you and Agatha eat some stew. Then she says, “So, y/n, do you have a boyfriend?”

You almost drop your spoon back in the bowl. Is she–no. She is probably trying to get a feel of yours and Nicky’s relationship. “Um, no. I’m actually gay,” you say, finding the stew suddenly incredibly interesting. After Agatha is silent for a few seconds, you look up at her to find a smirk stretched across her face, eyes looking darker than they were.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Her voice is low and you swallow hard, begging the fire in your stomach to die down. This is Nicky’s mom. Nicky’s incredibly attractive mom whose hands, at the moment, you desperately wanted to feel tracing your body. Sliding over your lips, maybe even around your throat. Fuck.

“No,” you say, barely above a whisper. “There’s really no girls in school that I’m interested in.”

Agatha opens her mouth, ready to say something, and you preemptively lean closer, but at that moment, Nicky walks back in and sits down next to you, completely oblivious to your flushed face and his mom’s look of…disappointment?

No. You are clearly just reading into things. Nicky’s mom, who is much older than you are, does not want you.

She’s just being nice, and you are being insane.

You really need to get your mommy issues under control.

Agatha clears her throat. “So, how’s working at the bookstore going?”

“It’s pretty good. Nicky definitely makes the shifts go by faster,” you say, turning to look at him appreciatively. “Except for tomorrow, because someone has to do a group project for their sociology class and can’t work.” The glare you gave Nicky is playful and he snickers.

“So sorry. I’d honestly rather be at work. My group sucks. I honestly wonder how one of the people made it into college,” he says. You agree. You’ve done a fair share of group projects already for some of your classes, and it is often a struggle.

You look back at Agatha, but she doesn’t say anything. The rest of dinner passes quickly, and soon it’s time to get back to homework.

You and Nicky decide to move downstairs so Agatha can help. She’s talking quickly, gesturing down at your paper, but you’re too busy staring at her lips to actually understand what she’s saying. Which is totally fine, until she asks you a question.

“Sorry?” is all you can say, internally cursing for looking like an idiot. She doesn’t look disappointed. Instead, it almost looks like she knows why you’re so distracted. She repeats it slowly, something about if there’s six oxygens on the left side, how many carbon dioxides do we need on the right side. “Three?” you say, sort of guessing.

“Good girl,” she says approvingly, in that raspy voice of hers, and you honest-to-god clench around nothing. You can literally feel yourself getting wetter by the second. And then she moves onto the next question like she didn’t just say that.

It’s almost ten thirty at night by the time you finish your homework and you stand up with a yawn.

“Do you want to stay the night?” Agatha asks. “You can stay in the guest room, I’m sure I can find some clothes for you to wear.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude,” you say, and she immediately shakes her head.

“You won’t be at all. Come on,” she insists, and you glance at Nicky before she pulls you after her up the stairs. She leads you into her bedroom and lets go of you to walk into her closet and you take the opportunity to look around her room.

Her bed is neatly made, with a cream duvet and a dark, wooden headboard. Her nightstand is the same colored wood and there’s a framed picture of her and Nicky from probably ten years ago. A fireplace is tucked into the corner and dark purple curtains cover the windows.

“Here you go. These should fit. There should be extra toothbrushes and toothpaste in the guest bathroom. If you need anything else, just let me know,” Agatha says, handing you a pile of clothes. “Have a good night, sweetheart.”

You’re too flustered to say anything back so you give her a smile and make your way to the guest room. It’s right by Nicky’s room, so you stop in to say good night and then you text your parents that you’re spending the night at a friend’s house.

The pajamas Agatha gave you – if you can even call them that – slide right onto your body. It’s a silky purple nightie with a black robe and it hugs your curves in all the right places. You look hot and for a second, you think about going to see Agatha again. Just to thank her, you tell yourself unconvincingly.

But you make yourself brush your teeth and get into bed, feeling the wetness still between your thighs.

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

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eubybubble · 11 months ago

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arguing with slytherin boys / pt.2

ft. Tom, Mattheo, Theodore, Lorenzo

warnings: curse words, mentions of abuse, addictions

Theodore Nott

You wanted to help Theo, really. His smoking wouldn't have angered you if he wasn't going through two packs in a day. It was genuinely hard to express your concerns without sounding like a parent or authority figure. But as you attempted to have yet another “serious conversation” with him, you initially thought it was heading toward success. Turns out you just misunderstood his mocking tone as softness and surrender.

“Ah, so you care about me? Answer me, amore, are you my mother? Then tell me, why do my habits piss you off that much?” he advanced towards you, slowly cornering you until your back met the cold wall. You closed your eyes in a desperate attempt to pretend it's a nightmare, hoped for it to end sooner and start again. But it was real, and Theo barely controlled himself “Am I not good enough for Ms. Perfect? My “addictions” shouldn’t worry you, can’t you understand?” His fist landed just an inch away from your face.

Tom Riddle

You decided to drop in and check on Tom since he hadn’t been talking to you for a few weeks now. He was busy working on some project. You made a cute lunch and even drew his portrait with watercolor. You couldn’t contain your excitement as you hurried to his room. What will be his reaction? Did he miss you too? Reality hit harder than you could’ve ever imagined. He eyed you and things in your hand with a little to no interest.

“Just how many times did I tell you not to disturb me? Not to meddle in my business? I don’t need it," he stated firmly. His words rang in your ears, and you didn’t listen much as he continued, “I was right, in the end relationships proved to be troublesome trivia. It was nice to know you. But now, leave.”

Mattheo Riddle

You’ve been avoiding him for the last few weeks after hearing rumors about his ties to dark organizations and massacre in the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Now, he was confronting you. Can’t really escape when he’s towering right above you in the middle of a dorm room.

“Are we even dating at this point? ‘Cuz i feel like I’m a fucking joke to you, not a boyfriend” Mattheo calmly stood in front of you, staring at you with eyes full of hatred “Little bird told me you’re afraid of me. Why, is it because my surname is Riddle? I thought you weren’t that dumb like others to judge me on my family relations which I don’t give a fuck about” he spat out the last words. His lips curled in disgust as he shoved a box full of your gifts and memories into your hands, leaving you dumbfounded in the solitude of your room.

Lorenzo Berkshire

The last few weeks have been tough for every seventh-year at Hogwarts. Tables were cluttered with heaps of homework and essays, and an unhealthy number of coffee mugs in common rooms weren’t surprising anymore. Amidst this academic crisis, your boyfriend was the most affected one. He had to maintain his top spot, not for himself but for his parents.

You were genuinely worried about him and tried to help him unwind a bit, but he consistently refused and distanced himself even more. When you suggested going to Hogsmeade, he suddenly snapped, growling in frustration

“Just fuck off. I have a lot to manage, and you're being a burden right now. Can’t you spend a minute without me?” He kept ruffling his hair and rubbing his temples in annoyance. “I need a break” He didn’t care to explain what break he needed and didn’t even look at you as he left the common room in a hurry.

a/n: yes, i like making people suffer and yes there’ll be part 2 with Draco, Blaise and Regulus

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coyotes-rules-of-change · 5 months ago

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Part 3: Christopher

The long awaited continuation of my first series—I’m assuming… If you missed the first parts, please feel free to enjoy Part 1: Kellen and Part 2: Adam before you continue on with Christopher. In terms of content warnings, Kellen is still quite rough and aggressive, but it seems as though the new and improved Adam has helped the raging jock tone it down a bit.

Kellen wasn't sure what had happened with Adam. He knew two realities: one where Adam was an insufferable nerd who was Kellen's submissive ticket out of academic probation. But now Adam was an insatiable twink who got off on Kellen's abusive nature, and now Adam has become an almost addictive part of Kellen's life. Kellen had always been unwaveringly straight, but now he continued to use Adam's ass as a routine receptacle for his pent-up aggression. Instead of Kellen bullying the nerdy Adam into completing his schoolwork, Adam seemed to feed on Kellen's demeanor, controlling every rough and raging moment of their daily fuck sessions. It clearly drove Adam's prude of a roommate crazy, leaving the poor Ben rapidly departing his several accidental intrusions with an unmistakable look of shame.

But Adam's sexual hold over Kellen left his primary motivation unmet. Kellen needed another way to boost his grade. Lucky for him, nerds were everywhere; he just had to select one. Kellen scanned the dining hall. He considered a business major sitting in a booth. The kid, Kenneth, made a habit of dressing professionally and was always down for a deal, but Kellen needed to be sure his geeky clothes could guarantee good grades. It dawned on him that he could use Adam's roommate, Ben. It would be gloriously sadistic, and Ben was actively failing to hide the fact that he'd noticed Kellen across the hall and was nervously attempting to blend in. That did seem like a fun idea to Kellen, but a new victim crossed his path.

The D&D club had just finished its lunch meeting, and one of the hapless members walked right in front of the jock. D&D, comic books; the perfect nerd just walked right in front of him and out the dining hall doors, unaware of the follower he'd managed to pick up.

Kellen paced his stalking to ensure he caught his new grunt in the dormitory stairwell. "Hey, nerd..."

Christopher barely had any chance to react before being shoved against the wall. Comic books spilled across the ground, and the pudgy fanboy stared up at the menacing jock with an imposing figure matching those of the superheroes on the covers of the comics now plastered on the floor. But instead of heroic deeds, these muscles worked to intimidate and scare.

"Do you enjoy math, nerd?" Kellen's stare bore into the poor bookworm.

"Well... uh, no, not re—" Christopher barely managed to stutter out his response before Kellen barrelled on.

"No, you don't get it, do you. You enjoy math, dweeb."

Again, Kellen doesn't wait around for Christopher's stuttered response. "Wait, but I don't think—"

"This is my math homework." Kellen holds up a few papers. "This is due tomorrow. You can meet me tomorrow morning, nine o'clock, in the locker room at the school gym. It had better be done."

Kellen releases Christopher and turns to go, but against his better judgment, Christopher talks back to his departing bully.

"But wait! I already have my own homework! And I have a class at 8:30! I can't meet you at—"

Again, Christopher is interrupted, finding himself slammed up against the banister.

"You see these muscles, right?" Kellen didn't wait for a response. "You don't have to read your little comic books to know that I can fuck you up. You'll be there. Tomorrow. At nine."

Kellen turns to go, and Christopher slumps to the ground. This time he's wise enough to stay silent as the asshole jock strides out the stairwell door.

——————

The whole encounter in the staircase baffled Christopher as much as it terrified him. He wasn't sure why he'd been selected for this daunting task but was pretty sure the stupid athlete saw the comic books and thought he was bookish and nerdy. He really wasn't; quite frankly, he was good at math, but it wasn't anything he considered fun. Why do jocks like him think a love of comic books translated into unlimited intellect and a life of devotion to school work? Life is not the Big Bang Theory—in fact, Christopher had a few failing grades of his own, but the jock selected him. What could he do about it?

Christopher was worried about being able to complete the assignment until he actually looked it over and realized he'd covered this stuff in high school. Unfortunately, tomorrow's "assignment" turned out to be a backlog of nearly a week of work. Frankly, this guy was dumb if he made it into college without being able to pass high school-level assignments. It also wasn't until Christopher was finished and he went to write the name in at the top of the assignments that he realized he didn't even know the guy's name—yup, this guy is pretty fucking stupid.

As Christopher drifted off to sleep—later than expected due to the added work—it dawned on him this might not be the last time he'd have to do this. He wished he didn't have to worry about the dumb jock's work. It was that moron's mess to get out of, not his.

——————

The following day, Christopher decided to head to the meeting point early. He suspected the jock wouldn't react kindly if he were late. Ten minutes early, Christopher and his Spiderman graphic tee walked in the gym doors at the school rec center. Only then did he realize how out of place he'd be. It was clear from his short stature and paunchy frame that he'd never walked through those doors in two years as a student here. It took a good half a minute before he realized he'd stopped the moment he'd walked through the door. Regaining his motor function, he awkwardly walks up to the unattended counter. After waiting a few eternal moments, a huge black guy enters through a back door.

"Can I help you?" the man asks dryly.

Yet again, Christopher can only stutter. Only this time, it's because he's starstruck and intimidated, staring at a man with the broad frame of a superhero. In front of him was Kyle, the front desk worker, but in his mind, Christopher was staring up at a man who looked more like M'Baku from the MCU.

Growing frustrated, Kyle tries to get something out of the mute kid in front of him. "Can I help you?"

"I... uh... well, I—uh..." Finally, Christopher managed to muster a thought. "I need to go in..."

Kyle looked inconvenienced. "Are you a student?"

"Uh... yeah."

"Just swipe your I.D., kid."

Kyle returned to the back room, leaving Christopher in his awkward haze. It was for the best. Had the interaction lasted any longer, Christopher might have found himself attempting the Wakandan salute to fill the tension. And that would not have been beneficial... or appropriate.

Christopher walked to the row of turnstiles, slowly pushing through after swiping his card. Then he looked up. Christopher found himself surrounded by physiques ripped from the covers of his comics. This was getting more challenging. Frozen just beyond the turnstile, he realizes he might like the comic books for more than just their storylines. Presented with the real-life muscular forms of his favorite heroes in every corner of the school gym, he realized he was getting a little hard. Another scan of the room, and he jolts, realizing his nerves since entering the building had burned through a lot of his early start. He needed to be in the locker room in just one more minute... Fortunately, a steady bustle through another door allowed him to figure out where to go. Unfortunately, he had to walk across the long room packed with sweaty athletes. Christopher locked his gaze on the door and sped through, using every ounce of effort to ignore everything around him until he pushed into the locker room.

Like the gym behind him, the locker room also bore a smattering of athletic physiques... but he should have remembered what the locker room was for. Every muscle was on display: pecs, abs, biceps, thighs, calves, more. He was lucky that—at least for the moment—none of the jocks in the locker room were actively changing their underwear. The panorama before him left him genuinely paralyzed. Right on cue, the bully from the stairwell came around a corner into the view of his latest victim.

Kellen sported nothing more than a towel and a sly grin. The physique he had on display was just like Captain America, but Christopher knew he was nothing like the upstanding model citizen from the comics. Nonetheless, Christopher was flushed. The muscular form in front of him made him harder than he'd ever been despite the sheer terror coursing through him.

Kellen just leaned in and grabbed the papers Christopher held in his hand. He looked it over. "This looks right, not that I'd know. I'd better get good grades or else..." Kellen flexed a bicep. "I'll have to teach you a lesson."

Christopher just gulped.

"Here's my phone." Kellen hands over his phone with an empty contact pulled up. "Put in your number. If I text you, you respond. If I tell you to meet me, you show up—on time. So far, you're doing great."

Christopher still stands frozen and mute but manages to take the phone and enter his number.

"Here's your next round of work. I have my class at three so we'll need to meet before then. You have a lot to do in the next few hours. Good thing you skipped class, right?"

"I— I— I—..." Christopher knows he won't be able to pull off such a tight turnaround, but his brain is overloaded. He can only stutter.

Kellen turns to go, but then turns back and gets out his phone. "Oh wait, I almost forgot." He opens up his camera app and snaps a selfie. One where the camera is placed low, around his waistline, aiming up the grooves of his abs and capturing his cocky smirk just beyond his hard pecs. "Let me send this to you. I'm gonna need a contact photo, right?" He hits send and walks away. Christopher feels the text alert buzz in his pocket. He regains his composure and blazes out of the rec center at top speed.

——————

Kellen figured the nerd that interested in comic books would flush at the sight of all those jocks in the locker room. The little weakling couldn't even speak! Frankly, it couldn't have gone better. At noon, he decided he'd send his summons to the little ant.

Meet me at 2. Dining hall

He was met with a few seconds of the three dots (...) before the nerd replied.

We should just meet at the gym again

In literally any other instance, he'd punish this kind of insubordination. But if this little dweeb wants to head back to that locker room, Kellen was more than happy to make that work.

Sure, bro, see you there

——————

Kellen arrived twenty minutes early. He disrobed and posted up in the shower, where he could see over the top of the curtain once the nerd showed up. He thought he'd rattle the little fatty with a full view of his naked body since his shirtless torso already turned the little guy into a temporary statue. The anticipation burned through the remaining minutes until two o'clock came... and then went.

2:05. Kellen is getting frustrated. But then again, he looked forward to the beat-down he'd get to deliver his insubordinate slogger.

2:10, and Kellen was about to end his time in the shower stall, reaching for the knob to shut off the water, but just then—

"Yo, Kellen! You here, bro?"

Probably just one of his dumbass teammates. "Over here, bro."

Kellen turned off the water so he could grab a towel before the other voice could get to the shower stalls. He's in the middle of drying off when—in an instant, out of nowhere, a bulky form appears behind him. It's all so out of the blue, but Kellen processes the sudden contact from behind in quick fragments... A compression shirt covering hard muscle pressed against his back; his waist gripped by strong calloused hands; A pair of gym shorts restraining a thick cock teasing his ass; an exhale brushing across the skin of his neck as the one standing behind him moves in for a kiss... Desire welling up inside him as he takes in the man behind him—

And in another instant, Kellen pushes away and whips around. He's face to face with... who is that? He'd never seen this jock in his locker room before. Kellen was about to come unhinged at the initiation of the homoerotic violation. "Who the fuck—"

But the new jock cuts in with a far more casual tone, "Whoa, Kellen, bro! I'm sorry I startled you."

Kellen's still blazing on in his rage, "What the hell was that?!"

The jock just grins and moves in towards Kellen, peeling off his Spiderman compression shirt, "I thought we were meeting in the locker room at 2, bro."

And then, acting just an impulse faster than Kellen's straight defensive rage, the new guy has his hand on Kellen's cock. Sparks jolt through his psyche, allowing the homophobic hostility to be overcome by hunger and desire. The feeling swells, and Kellen's world shifts. Christopher, the pudgy comic book nerd he'd met yesterday, was Chris the jock, Chris, his best bro.

Christopher loved the tales of heroism and hope found in the pages published by Marvel and DC of those—often in peak physical shape—using their stature, both physical and otherwise, for good. It was a world where those who looked just like his bullies were the best of humanity... well, humanity and the broader universe.... well, the broader universe and the multiverse... And maybe, as he became all too aware of that morning meeting that unknown asshole jock who shoved him against the wall in a stairwell—maybe, he enjoyed those big muscular men beyond their presence in the plot lines.

The new version of Chris loved superheroes, too, growing up as the MCU took hold and bloomed into a cultural cornerstone. He watched multiple A-list stars debut as new hero after new hero, unveiling muscle they'd gained just for the role. Through high school, the fanatic teen had taken up weight lifting—at first, just to be close to the novice jocks and then realizing some hard work would earn him a coveted form of his own. By the time he'd reached college, he'd set his sights on a career path as a sports physician and trainer, allowing him to interact with muscle daily. And the marvel-worthy body he'd built for himself meant he walked among jocks and their sculpted forms as an equal. They even recognized his heroic obsession by referring to him as "the fifth Chris"—after Evans, Hemsworth, Pratt, and Pine.

However, Chris's obsession with muscle was more than personal and professional. He had several of his bros on the hook for routine sessions for worship, wanking and other forms of general pleasure. Some of them justified it as straight bros being straight bros, and others were more emotionally invested. Chris didn't care either way as long as it was muscle and pleasure. "Muscle and pleasure" were all Chris cared about and his entire reality revolved around those things.

But Kellen's reality was split in two. He was waiting in the shower to intimidate Christopher with his physique and sense of shamelessness for his own enjoyment and, frankly, to indulge his penchant for psychological torture. But now, he remembers heading for the showers, knowing Chris would join him, and they could jack each other off before heading out to the workout floor to lift. Christopher's first visit to the locker room that morning was just another morning for Chris; Kellen's exhibitionism was matched and escalated by Chris until they were making out against the lockers. At the same time, their hands ran across their brawny frames. That photo Kellen sent to Christopher—the first thing he'd sent the flabby wimp—was just one of many suggestive photos frequently exchanged between him and Chris. And that first meeting with Christopher was just one of many times he and Chris had fucked in the stairwell. In this case, Chris had pinned him against the banister while he thrust his thick cock powerfully into Kellen's muscled ass, but they traded off who topped and who bottomed regularly. But of course, that's where they'd end up after Chris coyly walked past him in the dining hall while making sure to give his jock cock a firm squeeze. Kellen knew that was the sign that he should follow Chris to one of their secret spots.

Kellen could still remember the plump comic enthusiast he'd known for just over a day, but his head rolled back as the pleasure of his best bro's grip on his cock overtook him. He could also remember how straight he was; years of locker room shenanigans in high school and college all followed up with the obligatory "no homo" tag. Now those same homoerotic displays from Kellen's high school days were received differently in the college locker room when another freshman jock met the provocative pageant with his own brash acts. The daily game of gay chicken between bros inevitably gave way to overt sexual acts. Kellen was still straight, but he now had two former nerds whose routine fuck sessions he craved. Adam was a fixed booty call who thrived off his aggression, but Chris was now woven into his college memory as a constant presence in nearly every workout. And he extracted and reciprocated every one of Kellen's provocative and vulgar impulses until they worked themselves up into a sexual frenzy.

He knew it was the first time he'd done this, but his impulse followed the lead of nearly two years of memories this new reality had bestowed—he reached into Christopher's gym shorts and pulled the meaty shaft out of its confines. The jocks moved in closer, their pecs and abs coming together, one hand exploring, groping, rubbing, caressing the hard muscle, the other moving up and down the rod of the other bro. Lips meet, lusts rise, and breath grows heavy. Chris' thoughts are overwhelmed by the feeling of his hand running across his bro's wet skin, feeling the firm muscle underneath. The pleasure of his fingers tracing the familiar contours of his bro's body mixed with the bliss of Kellen's firm stroking up and down his cock. He loved how much Kellen loved showing off. He loved Kellen's attention to detail as he honed his physique. And most of all, he loved that Kellen loved his MCU body just as much as he did.

Kellen moans and tightens his grip. Chris moans and tweaks a nipple. Kellen's hand drifts south and gropes Chris' ballsack. Chris playfully bites Kellen's lip. The moaning and groaning swell, and jock seed shoots upwards, landing on two sets of abs.

"Mmmph…" Kellen just moans in his post-nut bliss, leaning back against the wall.

"Yeah, that was good, wasn't it, bro?" Chris changed the subject. "I gotta know. You find a nerd to get your grades up?"

The question jolts him out of the haze. Whatever this… curse was he was dealing with, that inquiry was laden with irony and insult. Resentfully, he responds with a pointed "No."

Chris didn't seem to notice. "I'm gonna go lift." He uses Kellen's towel to wipe off the cum on his chest before he slips his Spiderman compression tee back on, "I wanna shoot a thirst trap later to show off these gains to the comic book nerds on my TikTok."

Kellen was left leaning against the wall, stewing, reminded of his unfulfilled objective. Yet again, he was feeling pent-up, restless, angry, engaged— He texted Adam.

In 5 minutes, your ass is mine

And, of course, Adam replied:

OMG Yaaasss Daddy!!!🍆🍆🍆

#male tf #nerd to jock #gay #himbo transformation

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pricegouge · 7 days ago

Text

Humor Me (Even When it's Ruining Me)

part two

masterlist | taglist: pricegouged

babysitter!reader x single dad!price

cw: fem reader. implied age gap. nothing specific beyond reader being legal. alcohol. reader is a brat and john's having a lot of fun with it. inappropriate work flirting lmao. also i beefed john up cause i could. daddy kink. MDNI

Banner by @/cafekitsune

Chapter two

Three weeks later and you don't quite know what's happened, or who you even are anymore. You're waspish and short, run ragged between classes and the two families you've somehow managed to become employed for. They're nice enough to coordinate between themselves, most nights - Kate reaching out with a schedule the two of them have agreed on that lets you manage both kids at once. That doesn't mean they can always get their kids under the same roof for you, their schedules always too full to manage the drive across town. As if yours is any better.

The tentative routine you've fallen into is easy enough on paper, attending morning class before heading over to the Laswell's and doing most of your classwork there, even attending an online lesson once a week because Colin is a little angel who can remain calm as long as you are, but it all goes pretty much to shit the second you embark to pick up Emily from preschool around midafternoon, loading Colin into the carseat the Laswells very generously bought for you.

(Between the fact that it stays belted into your car twentyfour seven now because you don't trust yourself to reinstall it properly without the weirdly mechanical tests John used to ensure its safety when he set it up the first time and the fact that Colin can occasionally be heard cooing in the background of your more interactive lessons, there's definitely a rumor going around campus that you have a baby. You're not sure how you feel about it, but it does tend to keep the more annoying boys at arm's length so you haven't really gone out of your way to correct it quite yet. Emily's booster gets stored in your trunk, though. You don't quite want to know what kind of leper you'd become if your classmates thought you'd been on Sixteen and Pregnant.)

The girl is… tougher. Well behaved but boisterous, moody at times. Her rambunctiousness is infectious, gets Colin worked up from the confines of his seat in a way he doesn't usually wind down from for hours while Emily prattles on about her day and waves glittery crafts at you, leaving your car looking like a bad drag hangover, still-tacky finger paints smearing like lipstick stains on your upholstery.

(This is why Emily's booster stays in the trunk, there's already enough misleading evidence all over your car.)

(This is why John doesn't pick up his own daughter, you're fairly sure, and you've half a mind to install a glitter bomb in his glove box as revenge.)

You don't always have to watch the girl, John's evening schedule an unfixed thing, but Emily always seems excited to see you pulling up, as if she knows that her father works even when he's home. It's why you try to stay patient with her when her boundless energy riles the baby up, or when her incessant need for attention prevents you from finishing papers on time. It's not her fault, but it is slowly driving you insane.

Gina helps out when she can, usually bringing dinner for everyone when she stops by the Price's to pick up her kid in the early evening. Sometimes she even stays for a bit, helps keep Emily entertained while you streamline the bedtime routine with hopes of finishing up homework after she tucks in for the night. It's a valiant effort made by all, but the girl doesn't often play along, much too busy antagonizing you to bother showering in a timely manner. There are nights you think of her more like a little sister than a client, the way she picks on you. You feed it right back in your darker hours, when having every minute of your day planned out and consumed weighs on you, giving you teeth. You'd made her cry once by mistake, your tone more than your words themselves needling under her skin until she burst into tears, hid in her room until her father came home. There'd been an odd sense of relief to it, balancing out the panic of a bad review. Sure, you'd be fired and no one would want to hire you ever again if John used that one app where you got most of your odd jobs, but at least the Laswells wouldn't give you up and you could return to your regular schedule. But when Mr. Price got home that evening, he'd only listened to his whiny daughter with a soft smile, kissing her on the forehead before telling you both that he 'Wished his girls would get along.'

You can see where Emily gets it from, her ability to drive you insane, but where the girl is loud and prickly or candy-sweet by turns, a constant one man crew of Guess Who, her father is a steady, low stream abrading you, the funnel where he slips through your cells eroding until he's a constant bubbling under your skin. He's incorrigible, insidious, shameless.

Escalating, lock step with you.

You still haven't returned his shirt. Well, technically you had - once. Worn it that Wednesday, the first time he'd asked you back. You'd done it with every intention of teasing him a little, noting you'd need a replacement if he wanted it back now, and changing out of it before leaving for the night. He'd turned it on your head with a simple 'You could always just take it off,' before you'd even been able to reveal your plan to give it back to him.

He should have expected you to retaliate after that, returning home with it once more. It's remained safe in your dresser ever since, one less avenue for him to come barrelling down the center of, catching you in his headlights like a deer too scared to run. And if keeping it means you get to wear it to bed sometimes, so be it. That's his fault, too, always texting you so late to 'make sure you got back okay.' It's possible he's being gentlemanly, but that would be a first so you refuse to believe it, assume instead that he wants to make you think of him when you're climbing into bed each night. Like you need the help, like you haven't already worn the scent off his shirt. Sometimes you think about weaseling another one from him, or wonder how long it would take him to notice if you outright stole one. You know which room is his, have caught glimpses through the cracked door sometimes when following Emily up to her room. He never shuts it, too trusting. You probably would've already gotten yourself off on his pillow like a bitch in heat if he hadn't let slip early on that Emily sometimes likes to sleep in his bed when he's away. 'Think she misses me sometimes,' his voice was sad but the leer he gave you as he continued was anything but. 'She's allowed, if she wants.'

The next day he mentioned Emily falls asleep quickest when someone lies down with her to read her story. Your papers continue going unwritten, the girl wandering out of her bedroom late into the night because you refuse to start the habit when you know how it will end.

It's unsustainable, feels like you're circling the drain. But the money is great.

While the Laswells had never been stingy, John pays you like a dental surgeon each time he needs you. That same exorbitant rate from the first night, now with a prepaid gas card he seems very uninterested in monitoring the spending of. You'd be tempted to test your theory if you had time, take a road trip out to your parents or something just to see if it ever got declined. Sometimes you fantasize about it at night, texting him an SOS and a picture of your gas gauge on E. It's embarrassing how often he shows up to save the day in your daydreams now, racing to your side in his gleaming Lexus to refuel your car with a suggestive smile, working the nozzle past your intake valve like he's slipping into a wet cunt.

You should probably get laid, but who has the time? Especially given your… situation.

(Your situation being there is no situation. Never has been one. Virginal as the day you were born save for some over-the-pants heavy petting in high school and a rotation of cheap drug store vibes you usually end up abandoning for your own fingers because dear god, you'd think you'd have learned after the first wasted investment but up until now, with John's much needed help, you haven't really been in a position to just spend on sex toys all willy nilly and while yeah, sure, you are now, every time you go to spend his money on an imitation cock you can't help thinking might look like his, you suddenly remember you're only here because you can't put your big girl panties on and -.)

It takes time, is the problem. You don't need the whole blanket under the stars treatment, but you at least want some evidence that you're not going to get jackhammered into the mattress by some selfish, overeager boy who wouldn't know how to get you off if you gave him a manual. But evidence takes time to gather, takes meetups in frat parties you have no interest in attending, and makeout sessions smelly couches just to see if your partner knows how to use their tongue. And for all his provisions, John (John.) has made well and truly certain that the one thing you don't have, is in fact time.

>Need you tonight.

The vibration of your phone against the library desk is loud as a gunshot, the message itself ringing in your ears just as bad. You placed your phone back on the table and sent your deskmate, a handsome senior named Paul who'd been your unofficial Saturday morning library pal for the last two semesters, an apologetic glance.

Paul just waved his hand at you dismissively, a small smile tugging at his lips. With his head bowed into his fourth edition of a rather intimidating neuroscience textbook that gave you anxiety just looking at it, the only way you could tell he wasn't annoyed by your antics at all was the dimpling of his cheeks. It distracted you momentarily, the urge to nibble at the fat there sudden and overwhelming, then your phone vibrated again because you'd been too distracted to silence it and you snatched it back up with an annoyed huff, ready to tell your employer off about disturbing your Sacred Saturday, your one day off a week.

(Again.)

> I know what day it is but it's an emergency.

> I'll make it up to you.

< how so?

You chew your lip waiting for a response, the bubbling typing indicator roiling like your stomach. It's always like this, texting with John - every response teetering on too much. It's why you usually prefer to coordinate with the Laswells as much as possible, minimizing your discussions with Mr. Price to those late night 'Did you make it home okay?' messages.

(And sending him a photo evidence that his shirt was still safe and in your care once.

If you'd been wearing it at the time, snuggled up in bed and haloed in warm fairy lights with the hem riding a little high, that was his fault for asking after it so late.)

Tap, tap, tap.

Across from you, Paul drums his pen off the spiral notebook that sits between you, a custom since your third week sitting together. It's blank aside from your brief, handwritten conversations as far as you can tell, an accessory Paul seems to carry around for this express purpose, evidently preferable to just asking for your number so you can text each other to get around the strict no talking policy in the quietest lounge of the library. In the year or so since you've met him, you've never heard Paul talk, all of your correspondences reduced to the notebook which he draws your attention to now, his tidy scrawl asking a simple but damning question: 'Who's the guy?'

You shake your head, instinctual - automatic. Paul crooks an unimpressed brow at you and underlines his original question.

'Just some guy I work for, why?'

Paul smirks when he reads it but turns serious in response, waving at your overall demeanor as if that answers everything.

In your palm, your phone gives a muted buzz and you have to physically swallow back the urge to check it immediately. You roll your eyes at Paul instead. A poor excuse for the frustration you want to unleash, but opening the valve even a hair was better than just letting it build.

His scrawl is neat when Paul responds. Unaffected, calm. 'You've got a crush.' And then below that, its own paragraph: 'Should I be worried?'

It takes a moment for the words to register, the moment dragging out too long before your eyes dart up to your deskmate. Paul winks, scheming and sly, and your jaw hinges open in shock.

Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

"Shit," you hiss, scrambling out of your seat as your phone continues to vibrate with an incoming call. John's contact lights the screen, the stupid money bag emoji you'd used for him mocking you. You wait until you make it to the stairwell to answer to avoid the worst of the librarian's wrath, though she still shoots you a disapproving glare as you stalk past her post. You've half a mind to let the stairwell door slam behind you, but it would echo louder than your anger and you want John to hear every word when you accept the call.

"I am at the library," you hiss by way of greeting, as if that perfectly illustrates why you're so annoyed with him.

John just grunts, uninterested. "Are you available or not tonight? I need an answer ASAP so I can make plans if you're -."

"I'm off on Saturdays."

A beat passes as John recollects, evidently unused to being interrupted. "Right. Which is why I offered to pay you double your regular rate."

Confused, you check your texts to read the one you'd missed, too busy being chatted up by a cute boy much more appropriately aged. In it, John pleads desperately with you: offers twice your pay, dinner, anything you want.

You think of Paul's cute dimples, the way he's known you for a year without asking for your number. You think of John covered in shaving cream, his first words to you a joke about how desperate you looked - how desperate you both looked.

Hand pressed to your forehead, you shut your eyes and ask what time John needs you.

"Oh, thank you so much, sweetheart. A real lifesaver. I promise I'll make it up to you, just tell me how, okay? And as for tonight, no later than seventeen hundred, please - though honestly you can come by anytime, I'm sure Emily will be happy to see you."

Emily. Right. "Well I'm at the library for a reason, so -."

"You can use my study, of course. The munchkin knows better than to bug me when I'm in there."

Unbidden, you imagine pestering John yourself when he's lounged in some fancy modern desk chair, leather and broad. You bet his study smells like tobacco, that there's a bar cart in the corner. You imagine him using your mouth like a tumbler of whiskey, punishment for running it too much. He'd drink from your lips whenever he -.

"But I suppose I don't have all those useful resources like textbooks… well, consider it a standing offer."

"S-sure, Mr. Price. Thanks."

"Of course. I'll see you later, then?"

"Yes, sir."

On the other end of the line, John's breath stutters. His voice is low when he signs off, blunt and direct. Doesn't wait to hear your response. "Be good, sweetheart."

***

You're not entirely sure what being good constitutes, but you're fairly sure using John's emergency credit card Emily located for you in the freezer to Instacart approximately one day's minimum wage worth of junk food because Emily had been sad and despondent all day wasn't it. Nor was letting her dance her sugar rush off to less than appropriate music, probably, but it was worth it to see her smiling again after the fit she'd thrown when her father had left for the evening. You're both sweaty and breathless now, collapsing onto the couch between songs to shovel more M&Ms into your mouths and make fun of each other's dance moves. Emily says you use too much arm movements, but she's only four and thinks hopscotch skips are the new craze so you ask what she knows anyway and laugh at the way she rolls her eyes at you.

John's talkative too, apparently, the unexpected clients he'd been urgently called in to entertain evidently not holding his attention. He's never exactly radio silent when you've got his kid in your charge, but he usually lets you take the lead (pepper him with stupid questions you already know the answer to just to find an excuse to distract him because maybe you kinda like how short he gets) on those nights.

(Despite this standard, you don't feel the need to tell him you'd managed to read his credit card number through the brick of crystalline ice he'd cleverly hidden it in. You hope he's really short when he figures that stunt out.)

Tonight, however, it's John peppering you with questions. They start out innocent enough, asking after his daughter because he felt bad leaving her on a night that he'd promised to be home and he could see how much it upset her. Those questions peter out when you send him a picture of her all giggly and wound up, her hair freshly braided in a style she said he's too clumsy to accomplish for her. With confirmation that his daughter was feeling better, John's texts turn rapidly back to you.

> And how about you, sweetheart? Are you doing better?

< wym, better?

> What do you mean, wym?

< har har

> I mean you were rather short with me earlier. Are you still upset with me?

> I promise I also don't want to be working on a Saturday, for what it's worth.

< not mad

< just seems like you're not really needed with how much you're blowing up my phone

> Honestly, no. This is a waste of both our time.

> Have you decided how I can make it up to you, at least?

Actually, you hadn't even thought of it, figuring he was just being exaggerative - that he'd pay you your exorbitant rate and be done with it, send you on your way with your thoughts all twisted after some more growled insinuations and a pat on your ass, probably. He seemed like he was maybe two visits away from trying his luck, anyway.

Maybe you could ask for it sooner. Clear the air, finally feel his hands on you. You tell him you don't want anything, clarify nothing he can give you when he calls that out for being a lie.

> Sure about that? I can help with most things.

And the thing is, he's right. There are a lot of things you want. You want to get a better grade on your next econ assignment, you want a full night's sleep. You want to have free time, pick up a hobby. You have a growing desire to learn how to make the perfect pasta after seeing her scarf so many lackluster take out spaghetti bolognaise dishes. The solution was obvious, though one you knew he wouldn't want to hear.

< okay. i want more free time

> So quit with the Laswells.

It draws you up short, Emily bouncing around you unawares. It's one thing to suspect John's - your - end game, but another thing to see it batted around so casually. It makes you feel taken advantage of, guided in a way you don't necessarily appreciate. The Laswells were your first real, well-paying gig, your ticket to independence. You didn't relish the thought of abandoning them and you certainly didn't like to be coerced into the decision.

But John did pay very well.

< just like that?

John's answer is far too quick, the status changing directly from read to answered with a speed that suggested he may have had a response drafted already which he simply copy/pasted.

> It would make the most sense. I can pay well enough to make up for the lost income, plus my schedule works better with your classes.

> Honestly, I'm surprised you even lasted as long as you did with them.

< i wouldn't want to let them down…

> Nonsense, I'm sure they'd understand. You're a busy girl with a full schedule, afterall.

So were they - the whole reason you'd been working for them so long.

< i don't think i could quit on them. kate scares me.

> I'll take care of Kate, okay? No need to worry. I owe you one anyway, remember?

>Just let Daddy handle it.

It takes you a minute, the words somehow too natural to trip you up. Before you, Emily screeches happily about some cartoon that's maybe a touch too old for her and you think to yourself that she's going to sleep good tonight, all tuckered out as you know she's going to be and then you nearly drop your phone in your rush to chastise him, or run your mouth like you always do, or maybe double down on your request.

But the words don't come. Every time you manage to string two whole thoughts together it peters out, the textual manifestation of the gaping anime gasp he's managed to draw from you as you imagine him watching your typing bubbles appear and fizzle over and over again. If he's watching, of course, but he's a busy man so maybe -.

This time when your phone buzzes, there's no threat of a scolding librarian to keep your yelp suppressed. Just the odd look Emily shoots you before being distracted by her brightly colored show again, turning away from you disinterestedly as you excuse yourself to the kitchen.

"Mr. Price?"

"Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"S- sorry?"

His voice is calmer when he repeats himself, the same tone he uses on his daughter when she's too fidgety to listen. "Do I make you uncomfortable?"

And that answer is easy because the flutter in your tummy you get whenever his words grow a little too overt is not discomfort, so the answer comes easily, if quietly. "No."

"Do you want me to stop?"

Through the fog of your fluster, you remember Paul and his glacial pace, the cat calls from boys you've never met before and have no interest in. This is different. This is good. "No."

The breath John lets out doesn't sound like he's been holding it, more a pleased sigh than anything, accompanied by a low hum. "Good girl. Appreciate you telling me. Is this something you want?"

"I just said -?"

"Not wanting me to stop and wanting something to follow through to its logical conclusion are not the same things. Is this something you want?"

The question grates - the notion that he would think of this all as a waste of time if you didn't know you wanted him, maybe. "Hadn't thought about it. You only just -," You counter vehemently, but John just laughs, a heavy burst of breath through his nose. It catches in his mustache - wind cutting through the grass.

"If I were to come home tonight to find you sleeping on my couch and decided to wake you up all sweetly and softly, would that be alright?"

You picture yourself sleep-soft and pliant, heavy hands soothing over your flank as John's rough voice coaxes you awake. "Yes," you breathe.

He hums approvingly. "And if I were to wake you with my tongue in your cunt, would that be too much?"

"John -!" you hiss, scandalized.

"Try again."

A beat passes where you try to smother the pit of nerves in your stomach. "Mr. Price."

"Better. Answer the question, sweetheart."

"Mr. Price, I -." You huff a breath, take advantage of the fact he can't see you to visibly straighten your spine, steel yourself. "Mr. Price, what do you want?"

He doesn't miss a beat. "Easy. I've wanted to bend you over every available surface since you first barged into my bathroom and hinged yourself over that sink."

"I didn't."

"I want to keep that clever little mouth of yours quiet by stuffing it full of my cock. But I also want to hear you complain about what a brat my daughter's been all night because you're cute when you're mad. I want to come home and know what the two of you grabbed for dinner by licking it off your teeth." He pauses to give you an opening, notes your silence, and continues in a much softer voice. "And I want you to be able to focus on school a little better."

You can't manage anything better than a soft oh, and John's responding laugh is a low rumble, voice deceptively soft when he continues - the same voice he uses on Emily when she's too tired to behave properly. You wonder if his colleagues can hear him again, wonder if that's just how he's going to speak to you regardless.

"The question, sweetheart."

"I would like that, Mr. Price."

John's silent in the beat that passes, a hinge creaking open spilling ambient chatter in the background. He'd been sequestered, which means that last tone was only meant for you. "I'll see you tonight, kiddo. Behave for Daddy, yeah?"

#john price x reader #captain john price x reader #humor me

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1117feverlessdreams · 3 months ago

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* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

PAIRING: OnlineSeonghwa! x CollegeFemReader!

🐰📍SUMMARY: We all get pent up in sexual stress time and time again, and you’re no different. The measures you resort to however may be unusual. You decide to take your issue to the internet and masturbate with a stranger online. A stranger you haven’t met yet.

🐰📍WARNINGS: masturbating obvi, p in v penetration, sadism, cursing, fingering, code names, safe word, reader gets called bunny and darling, and during the deed, slut.

🐰📍WORD COUNT: 8.2k

🐰📍A/N: This story is literally a years work in progress, and by that I mean it’s been sitting in the drafts a quarter of the way done. I don’t know where this was headed a year ago, but these things may happen for a reason…

If you’re being honest…

you have been overly horny, and out of your mind lately!

In the midst of a history essay that is due very soon, you ignorantly minimize the web tab to look for ’free internet accessed relief.’

It was the period of your ovulating phase, so your hormones were shot up so high that you’d do anything to deescalate the throbbing pain between your legs.

It’s only been an half hour of working, and your rolling desktop chair’s leather began to feel gummy underneath your sweltered thighs.

The whole concept of piling on homework before finals week is something you could never comprehend with professors. Not only did it provide you a heavy workload, but them as well, and you’re not their only student.

You wish your roommate was here to tough things out with you. But she had told you on a consistent basis for the past month about this business presenting competition she’s in. She had religiously met up with her group everyday to perfect each element in their project, and deservingly made it to finals.

As this would be her last night before the final presentation against other students from other states in your country, she decided it would be best for the team to spend the night together.

Even though it didn’t comfort you in your solidarity-your body is grateful for her decision.

‘Maybe a YouTube boyfriend audio would do the trick.’ a recurring thought voiced inside your head. A soothing, deep, and attractive voice to guide you while he instructs to touch yourself when he wanted, and in the way he wanted.

A multitude of many minutes pass with your hand dove deep into your underwear, and onto your mound. You recognize your frustration only began to build as none of the videos you played online truly turned you on.

In fact you found it better when you turned the video off, and went at it yourself in the eerie silence of your apartment. Nevertheless, the awkward silence just make you feel more…awkward.

‘Maybe a video of a guy masturbating on any random porn site could help?’ I just have to find the right size, someone who’s my type, a pretty enough looking dick, and most importantly…a guy who moans melodiously through my headset.

You were beginning to think you were being picky when you couldn’t find a single video through twenty three pages. Although, you did manage to find your perfect guy at one point through it all-

You were wet and nearing the very edge, until you heard his climax- the sounds of what you heard to echo a dying horse.

Your persistent inability to relieve yourself made you think going to bed high and dry was a reasonable option. You just hoped the throbbing sensation would be gone when morning came.

It was plenty enough that you were overwhelmed and exhausted by all the work that’s consuming you, and you didn’t want to exert more energy in your poor findings.

You backslide in your chair from your pc setup, analyzing the screen and eye boggling through all the oddly named titles in a random porn site. The longer you looked the more you grew disgusted at the bothering mass of female degradation, and vulgar images of the most kinkiest kinks.

It’s something you’re used to when you visit these sites, and you hate it…yet you keep coming back.

You push your mouse toward the red x in painful shame to finish the last page of your essay off. It was simply a conclusion of what you said in previous pages.

There is apathy in the way you take your time dragging the cursor to the right corner. Just as your nearing its edge, a box grows in a highlighted beam. Like a miraculous messenger that greets you before you give up on your last hope.

It was ad feature on the website that you hadn't exactly explored yet. The ad banner read: ‘Click here to meet sexy hot masturbating adults near you!’ 18+ flashes on the side of the words with neon LED lights, and in GIF media, a man and woman on webcam rubbing themselves off with gaping mouths and wide eyes.

It would be something you would’ve previously consider if it weren’t for the fact that the strangers were near you. The local area was your college campus, a second home, and recognizing familiar faces is something you wouldn’t be able to come back from.

You’ve clicked it before just out of pure curiosity, and the link sent you to the site as promised, but the downfall for you was the requirement to make an account.

The old you from an half hour ago would’ve click the left arrow in the upper left corner and keep searching in disparity. Yet the you now is in deep contemplation, shivering at the slick beneath you on your gaming chair.

You had been grinding back and forth, and even rolling your hips for a deeper arousal. The sensation made it easy to direct your self to the the sign up page and create a profile for user StrawberryBunny1024.

Luckily for you, you’d been given the option of how close the strangers could be. It was a fairly broad spectrum you personally selected from surrounding states and regions. You’d imagine it’d be anyone’s nightmare to match with a former classmate.

With one disadvantage displaced you were thrilled to match with someone who’d shared some fiery electric orgasms with you tonight.

That was until you realized…you actually are required to turn your camera on.

You look at the screen mocking your distraught state with a, “video on please!” In honesty, you aren’t the camera shy type. However what would be captured frightened you…your bare body in all its entirety. In addition to your flustered face.

It’s the internet after all, and digital footprint is a real thing. You wouldn’t want to sabotage your chances of reaching graduation in your senior year.

Besides that point, you turned your camera on because it wouldn’t let you forth without it. A green dotted oval scans your face and a check mark approves of your identity.

Once you are let in, boxes with summarized profiles flash in your face, and a randomized match is made with someone in your selected areas. You’re quick to put on a sexy pink kitsune mask you sported in with your friends on Halloween last year.

Several minutes pass by and you already been put through the wringer. It was either you got skipped, or the guys you matched with were so forceful, and explicitly demanded you to show your pussy right then and there.

There is, once again, a pause in the randomizing. The video buffers to retain quality, but then it fully loads. The audio pitches in right after you scramble to hide further beside your chair. You find that to be the best strategy to elevate suspense. That way you could analyze the person in secret to find out what if you like them, and then you’d reveal yourself.

To your utter disbelief, the most etheral-magical- androgynous, gorgeous, princely being you’ve seen in your many days of living gave your knees a reason to not ache anymore. The prized guy to your desire’s name was…marsskywalker8.

“Hello darling, why are you hiding from me?” A masculine and soothing voice inquires, “I can’t get off to a gaming chair.” He smiles as he finds you peeking on the ground. There was nothing better in this world than a good looking man with a nice set of teeth. “I would do that in my own privacy if that was the case.”

You peer in closer with both eyes, fascinated by the way he just sits there with his face zoomed in, dapper in a black tank top-pleasantly relaxed-seated back fully in his seat-smiling as he notices your hesitation.

“Sorry... this is my first time. I never clicked on one of those…”, your voice drops in volume when you think of the right term to call this online masturbating FaceTime. “Ad thingies.”

“Ah, I see.” He smirks at the innocent nickname you've given your- ‘cyber interaction’.

He falls slightly forward to laugh playfully in a moment of silence which tears you in two. The blissful sound only made you want to cower more and hide. When he rises up again he combs his curtain bangs through his fingers, and what remains is a smile that never fell.

Suddenly a mic is brought down from his right side of the screen. In which his slender fingers engulf so tenderly. “Well…because you are new to this-the first thing you’d do is to show that you are actually human by placing yourself in the camera frame.”

Incidentally, you wave your finger up and center in the cameras view out of annoyance. You yank it down and became frightsome until you realized you’ve proved that you are in fact real, and human. “I know that! I just- it’s weird staring at myself doing…that.”

“Who says you have to put your face in the camera darling? All you have to do is drag your video to the side so you can’t see.” A lower grade of his voice in octave with the mic accessory sprinkled tingles down your spine. “Just be sure to point it down to your pussy. That’s all I need to get off.”

“O-okay.” You place the pad of your thumb over the camera, and rise above the rolling chair slowly. “I’m getting in frame now.” You continue covering the camera while you point it down to your soiled underwear.

He leans into his mic set up. “I’m sorry.” he chuckles, smoothing his hand over his face so he doesn’t smile. The man holds his face in his hand, purely amused about the whole situation. “Where are my manners? My alias name is Mars. Do you have a name you like to be called-Mrs.StrawberryBunny?”

“Yes…I do.” You look between the miffy doll by your desktop and strawberry themed set up you’ve decorated. “Bunny will work just fine.”

“Sounds perfect Bunny. It’s suits you.”

As does mars for you, because you look so otherworldly.

As you intake a deep breath, the pad of your thumb peels off the camera lens. Mars irises darken, and his eyelids lower with lust. “Are you ready for me Bunny?”

“Yes. I am now.”

He wets his plump lips, pulling out his frame to be larger and revealing his skin tight black boxers. “Just watch what I do, and listen to what I say. Mars is gonna help you cum Bunny, is that okay?”

“Yes, it’s okay Mars. I’m ready.”

You began to think submission is something Mars is into as he smirks in delight. “She likes what she sees. Does she have a name?”

“My name, again? it’s-

“No, her. Your friend covered in pink silk.”

Your body heats up when you realize he’s referring to your vagina. “I-I haven’t really thought about it.”

“Awe…what a shame. I have a friend here named Saber that’s very excited to meet her. If she’s willing to introduce herself of course.”

“Yes of course, um, I just came up with a badge it’s…” you look upon the mask you held to your face previously. “Kitsune.”

“Like the sly majestic japanese fox?”, he says intrigued. You nod slowly, regretting your top-of-the-dome thinking. “Oh my… she’s gorgeous.” He leans back and nibbles on his finger between his pretty teeth. Even more so, he gives you a nice view of his semi hard cock.

“I think Saber here thinks so too. Perhaps they should get aquatinted with one another? What do you say Bunny? Would you like to meet him as well?”

“Yes…I would love to.” Your eagerness makes Mars-or rather Saber twitch in his boxers, hardening his erection.

Mars lightly gestures the in between of his thighs. “As usual, he’s a very stand up guy.” An accidental burst of giggles come out of you mouth, and causes your visible lower half to shake. “How charming…Bunny has a sense of humor?”

“Of course I do. I told you, I’m not a robot.” You look at the screen as you wait for a response, but he just continues his mischievous smirking.

“Ice breakers help past the awkward phases. As do play dates. Let’s play with one another Bunny.”

Your breathing grows heavy in anticipation, willing to put keen effort to get what you needed. You clear your throat, preparing it to communicate in a seductive, sex-ridden voice. “What would you like to play Mars?”

“I think it’s a game we all know very well. The one you and I play with our friends here when it’s just you and them. Are you familiar Bunny?”

“…” You nod your head until you realize he can’t see your upper half at all. A thumbs up is what you provide for affirmation.

“I thought so.”

“I’d like to add a twist with Simon says. But it will be Mars says of course, and Bunny says. Does that sound fun darling?”

“Indeed it does. Would you like to do the honors of going first?”

His smile stretches and he tilts his head, chuckling in amusement. “Well of course. I have yet to teach you how it’s done after all.” He grabs his microphone from the right side again. “Mars says, rub your hands up and down your inner thighs.”

In the direct following of his command, you trace your hands up and down, breathing heavily from the small stimulation as you gain close to your heat.

“Good girl. Now, it’s your turn, and you can’t stop what you’re doing until it is your turn again, and I give you different directions. Understood?”

“Yes mars.” Your voice nearly whimpers in the end. It’s so strange how being told to touch yourself feels different than touching yourself at will. “Bunny says… lean back…lift your shirt…and touch all over your torso.”

He of course is best at his own game. Following your command without a world of trouble. His face remains neutral.

“Nicely done Bunny, I see you understand the rules of the game.”

He leans over on his desk, his lips brushing over the head of the microphone. “Mars says…set the crotch of your panties to the side, and rub onto Kitsune’s outer lips.”

You’re relieved to not torture yourself anymore, but now you were revealing a more intimate part of yourself full on. You began to rub softly, and even so it still makes you quiver. You had to get him back.

“Bunny says…massage into Sabers sack, and only through your underwear.”

He does so and throws his head back softly as it lands on a cushion. “How cruel of you Bunny.” He tilts his head back at the camera, and wet strands of dark hair falls over his face. “Mars says rub onto your clit… and do it quickly.”

Your hips buck up in the air from the instant contact. “F-fuck.” You muttered. But you keep your sportsmanship in tact. Obeying the rules of the game. “B-bunny says…bunny says….”

“What does Bunny say darling?” His voice becomes deeper and torturous. Hauling you in further into pleasure.

“Bunny says to reach inside of your underwear…touch onto Saber’s head…a-and rub your thumb up and down the middle. Quickly!”

A grunt sounds out as soon as he began to put his ministrations to action. There’s nothing but a mix of moans, whimpers, and groans between the both of you.

“Ungggh…Bunny, darling I-“

You flutter your eyes open and whine when your legs began to quake, nearing the long awaited ending. “Yes, Mars?”

“Does your friend have any toys you like to share together?”

“You mean like…augh…my dildo?”

“Yes. That’s perfect bunny. Mars says go get your dildo, and wait for my next command.”

“Fuck, Mars please. I need to cum.”

“You will darling I promise, I’m close too. Just do I say, and I’ll get you there.”

“Let me just cover the camera first.” He nods in approval painfully continuing your cruel command. You press your thumb over the lens and lean over to toss your thrown oversized tee onto the camera.

You rummage through the shoe box under your bed, flinging out your clear toy dildo.

You sit back down in your chair unto the sweat that has gone cold, but it soon warmed up again with what was pouring from you now. Mars tucked his lips releasing them from time to time and pant short breaths of air.“I’m back Mars…are you alright?”

“Yes but, just… please! He beckons with a weakening voice. “Do your Simon says.”

“Oh right, Sorry! Bunny says you can take a rest.”

He throws his hand in the air, twitching from an approaching orgasm. “Mars says we can take a rest from this game as well. There’s something else I want to try with you darling.” He turns his chair to face front again, making unmoving eye contact.

“With this being your first time, I’m guessing you got so sexually frustrated that you resorted to this as a last choice…and you want to cum so badly right now right?”

“I’ve tried everything mars, and nothing I did made me as wet as I am now. Thanks to you.”

“I wouldn’t thank me just yet. There’s plenty more to come.” He gives you a small smile before moving out of frame. A few seconds later he comes back with a pocket pussy in hand.

“The prices I would pay just to feel you right now.” He grabs a bottle of lube which was growing sticky in his pre-cum with every touch. “Hold that for just a minute darling.” Mars pours the small remainder in the bottle on his cockhead. He hitches his breath as it twitches from the cool contact.

You can only watch there stunned, sitting there, hand limp in carrying the clear dildo.

“We can see each other right? But there’s limitations on what we can feel.” Mars rubs his hand over himself thouroughly from the base, then the shaft, and to the tip. He even treated you a bit, adding the gloss to his lower abdomen. “So let’s just pretend hmm? Your soaking wet pussy, and my long hard dick.”

He begins to hover the pocket pussy over his cock, and you do the same with your dildo. You had a natural lube good enough that sticky webs formed between your fingers.

You use some of it to cover the dildo, providing yourself as much slip as possible. “You are so hard hwa, I don’t think you can bear it any longer, just fuck me.”

“Fuck, you’re such a slut Bunny. Talking to me like you’re in control.” He hovers the pocket pussy over himself closer, waiting for your cue.

“Push my cock all the way in, and put that pussy juice to good use for me darling, I know you can take it.”

You push it in with no time wasted, and your toes curl within every hilt. It slipped so deep you felt it nearly bypass your cervix. “You’re so deep, and you feel so good.” A long drop of your cream spills from your hole to the underside of the dildo.

Mars’s adam apple bobs hardly as he watches it cascades down on the sides, coming to a full shiver when it hits your floor. “Mars?” He tilts his head up and smiles when he sees you obediently trying to keep the dildo inside you as it began to lose friction against your slick.

“Yes darling I’m here, go on, fuck on your dildo like good little slut.” He begins to play pump his his toy halfway down his girth, twisting it in a 180 degree motion and back.

As soon as you began to follow, you fall apart easily. Whining and crying for your dear life. “More. Call me more names Mars, I love it. I love being your good little slut.”

“Who knew you had a thing for being degraded from how shyly you spoke when I tried to get you into a camera. Now look at you, crying over dick as you beg to be called a slur. What a dumb little toy you are.” he grunts.

You take the pleasure from that as an opportunity to twist the tip of the dildo into your hole, shuddering as it grazes over your sweet spot. “Please keep talking, I’m so close hwa!”

“Fuck your naughty. Let me shut you up. Go faster darling- all I want to hear is you cry for mercy.”

He begins to speed up his fist, tip to base. He tries to maintain contact with you to elevate your high, but it looks like he’s fighting sleep from how often his eyes roll in the back of his head from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Ah fuck, fuck fuck. I can’t- hwa, it’s too fast, I can’t keep up.”

Mars laughs loudly without hesitation-right in your face. “Oh shut up, you whore. You could keep up with your dirty talk. Don’t act like you didn’t do this to yourself dear. Now, I want you to go even faster.”

“Yes sir, m’sorry sir.” You proceed to go even faster, squirming and squinting in your chair as you resist the urge to pull out from the too good feeling of overstimulation.

Mars is on the other side of the camera breaking out heaves of sweat from his head to the curved v lines on his hips. He finally submits to closing his eyes and smiles widely like he’s passing into the next promised paradise of life.

“Wait, oh Mars-fuck!” The camera heightens from you slipping in the chair, then the tip of your toe kicks it further upward.

You had no clue however that your entire body was in frame. Your webcam wasn’t even in your view. With your eyes cloudy from tears and your back arched, you were more focused into making this experience worth your time.

“Holy fuck, you’re gorgeous. Why would you try to hide such a blessing from me?”

You thought in that moment he was praising the beauty of your pussy in which has become well acquainted with, and so you just plead your case. “M’sorry, I’m so sorry Mars.”

He whines with a small shriek, faltering in his ministrations of taking himself all the way. He shivers everytime he takes glances at your adoring features in which you still have no clue are unconcealed.

“Fuck, you’re getting wetter with every thrust darling. Let’s finish this off together and go all the way. My obedient little slut deserves it anyhow.”

He grins wickedly as he watches you plunge the dildo in you without any wasted time.

“Are you fucking close baby? Please tell me you are, because I can’t hold it for another fucking second!”

“Yes Mars I’m- I’m so, aughhh!” You release the cum covered dildo from your heat and fall backwards-limp in your chair. You’d allow yourself to rest as you were still shaking in aftershock.

Mars cums spurts like a water gun onto the meat of thighs. If you weren’t so high right now, you’d see the tear drop that could be mistaken as sweat, but really, that’s how much you’d affected him.

A unexpected knock on the door causes Mars to stumble in his chair, immediately turning off his video and throwing everything into a safe space. “Give me just a minute!”

“Mars!?” You breath out, dropping the dildo in hand to click out of the live chat. ‘Your call with marsskywalker8 was ended.’

…

‘Of course’, you thought. You’re not sure what you were expecting from a site where people use each other to get off. Who in their right mind would have casual conversation after cumming online with a stranger?

You hit x and shut your desktop down to clean yourself in shame. As you got up your ass stuck up the seat from your sticky orgasm, the best you ever had- which is why it’s a shame things ended so abruptly.

With the random select of strangers in your country, it probably take a billion masturbation sessions, to reach him again. Not that you would want to do it again with anyone else though.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

THAT VERY NEXT MORNING…

“Good Afternoon, sleepyhead! Wakey wakey!”

Your eyes flicker open rapidly when you hear your roommate's familiar voice. You click the power button on the side of your phone and it’s 2PM. A flash memory record of Mars and your homework creeps in your head. Your homework that you think you submitted with a conclusion.

“Hmm?” You say groggily, looking tiredly disgusted at the slob stain wetted on your sheets.

“Look at me, straight one.” Your roommate says while snapping.

“Why is it that you make fun of me in my sexuality as the gay one?” When you throw your cover off and sit up on the ledge, your eyes dart toward a golden trophy she places on your lap. “You fucking got 1st place?”

“This bitch and her incredible team got first place! Whoop whoop!” Your roommate prances around your dorm doing the gagnam style of all dances in victory.

You cover your mouth in surprise from her ridiculous bust-a-move, but also from the relieving news. “Oh my god congratulations Dixie. I told you, sometimes being stress gets you blessed.”

She smiles widely and jumps on your bed to cuddle you in a comforting hug.“You’ve been so supportive honestly, even while I was a deadbeat roommate.”

“Oh please, you had your reasons. You caught up on finals?”

“One more this week and I’m through, statistics.”

“Hmm remind me to retake that class in our next and final semester.”

“Fucking A-men….Oh that reminds me!” In excitement she pulls apart from you and gets on her knees to grasp your hands. “The team and I are going out for dinner later to celebrate, and I wanted to bring you with me…as a plus one.

You groan heavily, drained from the thought of going out. “Dixieeeeee. You know my social skills are at an all time low right now.”

“Nora will be there.” She looks at your slight smile but you don’t fully give in. “Food will be there?”

“You and Nora…” you say lowly. “will be the cuntiess business woman of all time. You both know how to plead your case with someone, and always win.”

“Fuck yes!” She gets on her feet quickly to give your forehead a kiss. “I love you girlie!”, she squeals.

“Please stop, that’s so out of character!”

Later in the day you both dress casual for the occasion. Dixie picks up her girlfriend Nora in the way who gives you a French greeting in the car, and right after, her and Dixie move into a French kiss.

You loved their love. You felt like a child riding in the backseat, admiring the way your parents love another, and wish for the same.

On the way to the restaurant you were informed of the two males that complete their business team. You were very eager to meet them. You were eager to meet anyone who tolerated Dixie.

“Okay this is the place. Hongjoong and Seongwha are waiting at the table inside.” Dixie says to you, smiling to ease your nervousness.

When you walk in you immediately feel the calm, yet bustling excitement of the restaurant. For the most part the people that are seated are a gathering of friends-celebrating or hanging out.

You were mindfully following Dixie and Nora as she directed you to the table, and that’s when you heard her say, “Wassup business team #1 champions!”

A small uproar of cheers and claps sound throughout the group. It hardly brought little to no disturbance to the other guests.

“I hope you guys don’t mind but I brought an extra out tonight. This is my roommate and the best goddamn friend I could ever ask for, Y/n.”

Your heart beat grows faster as you look at the men you’ll be accompanying this evening. There was Hongjoong and….FUCKING Mars?

Or as your friend like to call him, ‘Seonghwa’.

“Nice to meet you both.”

Hongjoong says the same and formally introduced himself. Seonghwa nods at him casually, and then smirks over to you.

“We’ve heard a lot about you.” He finally spoke. “I’m glad we have the chance to finally meet one another.” You nod and Blink thrice at Dixie, giving her your friendly signal. Code red.

“Hey-uh, we’re gonna use the ladies room real fast. It was a long ride. We’ll catch up with you guys in a few!”

Dixie grabs your arm and arm as Nora was on the other side. As a team they cornered you on a sink from both sides.

“Just tell me now” Dixie complained. “Do you wanna fuck him?”

“Dixie!” Nora lightly slaps her on the wrist as they were still united arm in arm. “Damn, why do you have to be so forward?”

“Well?” Dixie relentlessly imposes.

“It’s not like that! I was just looking at Seongwha because he was looking at me!”

Dixie’s brow raises up in amusement and he squints her berating eyes right into your face. “Who said anything about Seongwha?”

You look to her partner in arms, your other best friend. Who also happened to be the scapegoat to Dixie’s interrogations. “Noraaaaa?” you whined.

She looks to Dixie and shrugs her shoulders. “It’s a reasonable question that should be given a reasonable answer.”

You deflate your cheeks with a defeated breath, scoffing with a shattered heart of betrayal. “I saw the look in your eyes before you introduced me. I knew you were plotting something.”

“Well then let me just get straight to it then”, Dixie admits. “Why are you giving him the fuck me eyes?”

“Fuck you Dixie, stop it.”

“We could make it happen…just saying.”

“You guys. You point to them both with a lowered peace sign. Can help me. You point to yourself. Sway a- male species?”

Dixie scoffs and lightly pushes your shoulder upheld by your hand pressing into the sink. “I wasn’t gay all my goddamn life d-lover.”

“I’m pansexual, you know that.” Nora added.

“I do have a few cards up my sleeve still…never forget it.”

“Fine. I have the fuck me eyes,” you mutter with a small grunt. I would like your guys help.”

“What was that? I’m sorry…”

You flip up your middle finger. “Dickhead Dixie.” You run off right after, knowing she was more of a heavy weight champ than you were.

“Nuh uh! Come here, you little shit.” You feel a strong hug from bundle you from behind, and another pair of arms hugging you both. “We got you. Don’t worry.”

…

“Alright sorry fellas, the scissoring convention is over now”, Dixie privately announces, pulling out a chair for Nora.

“How the hell did you manage to maintain your professionalism during that presentation again?” Hongjoong asks, truly wondering in his genuine curiosity.

“Well it’s just like before I came out the closet. Fake it till you make it man.”

“Alright what are we having for dinner?”, Seongwha intercepted, clearly unamused. “The chicken parm sounds appetizing.”

“Yeah that and the garlic cheesy bread.”, you unknowingly added.

“Mmmm okay, we’re being bombarded by the Italians.” Dixie suddenly joked. She wouldn’t allow a moment of uncomfortable silence for you to bear, and that’s why she was your best friend.

“What will you be having Nora dear?” Dixie throws her arm casually around her girlfriend, giving the side of her temple a kiss as they go over the menu.

“I’m going with…the chicken tenders and fries basket.”

“Sounds great”, Dixie agreed. “Simplicity is best.”

“Looks like we’re being bombarded by sticky finger tablet kids now.”, you snickered in retort.

“Cocomelon! Seongwha chirped followed by the xylophone instrumental played after in the intro.

“You’ve got that down to a T, Mr.Park.” Dixie jived with a grin.

“You know Seonghwa likes to be a baby with legos and animal crossing in his free time.” Hongjoong added in.

Seongwha’s jaw shifted sides. You cover a smile under your hand, You didn’t say anything but you found it adorable. Every bad boy has a soft side.“Can a baby throw a baby sized man’s laptop overboard in the river?”

“Yeah, okay.” Hongjoong scoffs, seeming just a little visibly upset. “Like you can even throw that far.” Hongjoong folds in his arms at his sides, flailing his arms to intimate Seongwha’s throwing skills.

Seongwha’s stirring up his next comeback and ready to pounce, well, until Dixie had her words to share.

“Boys, boys, settle down. Save some testerone for the gays hmm?”

“Next thing you know they’ll be having a dick sword fight on the table.” Nora taunted, speaking loud enough for the two men to hear.

Hongjoong and Seonghwa groan and end their bantering right then and there. Nora and Dixie fist bump, you hear a “works every time” in whispers.

“Waiter, over here please!”, Hongjoong calls aloud.

…

You guys get some dessert after more gay jokes, poking fun at Seonghwa, and Dixie throwing random shots of spotlight on you so you can get familiar.

Little did you tell her how familiar you were already. Seonghwa had kept his mouth shut, he believed it was a matter you talk about some other time, or maybe never at all again.

As soon as their raspberry cheesecake cake arrives for dessert, Nora and Dixie head out for the night.

“It’s been a pleasure dude and dudettes, but me and this fine babe are heading to her place for the night.” A padded smack from Dixie causes Nora to jolt forward. She maintains her composure, unlike Dixie, she doesn’t like public attention.

“Let’s hang out like this more often, all together. Tonight was fun guys, see ya.” Nora chirped.

The two went to leave, playing on an act to their mischievous plan.

“Oh, uh Seongwha!” Dixie sputtered. “You mind taking Y/n back home- or your place is cool too. Just please make sure she safe, alright?”

“Yeah, of course. She’ll be safe with me whatever she decides. For the first time that night he initiates eye contact. “If that’s fine with you too…”

“Mhmm, yeah, that’s fine.” You nod throughout each word.

“Okay then, it’s settled! Hasta luego mi amigos, and buena noches!”

“That’ll be it for me too!” Hongjoong says while throwing on his jacket. “I think I’ll go home and play with some beats to wind down for the night. Nice to meet you again y/n.” He gives you a small small wave and pushes in his chair. “I hope to see you sometime soon.”

“Later, baby.” He sneaks in, balling his fist and wiping his eyes at Seongwha.

Seonghwa scoffs as he judges his friends childish behavior. “Enjoy making those beats tonight, it’ll be the last track you ever hear. Man baby.”

When you’re alone, you and Seongwha pick at your dessert in silence. His slice of strawberry shortcake, and your square of tiramisu.

“You wanna head out now too?”, he firstly speaks.

You look to him through your lashes, pausing with a piece of dessert on your fork. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

“My place is cool?”

“Yeah, um, sounds cool.”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

LATER ON THAT NIGHT…

Thankfully Seonghwa’s place was reachable in walking distance. You had plentiful ideas in mind, but not a single plan that seemed successful.

“You know…” Seongwha mutters. “Dixie talks about you a lot. If I hadn’t known Nora, I’d think you were her girlfriend.”

You cackled at the thought, and even if you found that noise a bit embarrassing, Seonghwa had been all ears. “In what universe? She pokes fun at me for being straight all the damn time. Me and Nora though…we’d have a better chance.”

“Oh? Wouldn’t Dixie be enthused to hear that shit.” You give him a slight elbow jab, leaning into his part of the sidewalk. “The both of you are like her diamond in a rock. I’d imagine she’d hate choosing between you two.”

“It’ll never happen, she doesn’t have to worry. She’s like that for Nora and I too, you know?” Seongwha actively listens with a hum. “Say um…”your voice trembles, “do you live on campus?”

“No I don’t actually. I attend the university here, but they don’t offer as good of business courses as they do on your guys campus. So I signed up for dual enrollment, and that’s why I was in the competition.”

“So you’re a business major too huh? I swear it’s like you guys are some sort of zodiac sign or something. “You all behave...” you pretend to think as you see Seongwha avert his powerful gaze towards you. “Strangely.” You say slowly.

“Wow…that kinda hurts to hear. He sulks, holding his hand where his heart is. You haven’t even met me until today, and now I’m strange?”

Your smile falls and you blink away because you began to feel bad. (In both ways) “Don’t take it too hard, I love a good sense of humor. It breaks the ice when talking to someone new.”

Holy fuck you sounded just like him from the other night. And you didn’t even realize it until it slipped your mouth.

“Dixie’s got it worse than you, so I’ll live,” he chucked. What are you majoring in anyhow?”

“Gen Arts.” You say sheepishly, holding back a chuckle of your own.

“Wait, wait, wait. You give me shit for being a business major but your in general arts? Do you know how moody you guys are!”

“Oh screw you! But no, seriously, that’s like a complete contrast from a business major. We actually have empathy for others.”

“Okay…you know what?”

“Mhm?”

“You’ve might’ve got me on that one! But I for one, am not like all the others.”

You push him into the street without the oncoming traffic, a tired groan spills from your mouth. You walk ahead of him, smiling as you swing your arms.

“Okay see, now you and Dixie are on the same level!”

…

Once you enter Seonghwa’s apartment, you fall to silence after all the heavy-felt chitter chatter.

Seongwha puts up his coat, takes off his shoes, and wanders off as he keeps talking about a new subject with upmost excitement.

You’re frozen and too entranced in the exact detail of his pc set up across the room. The microphone on the right side, along with many cute action figures of legos and animal crossing figures on the wall. Hongjoong wasn’t joking about that part after all.

“Hey y/n…you okay?!” Seonghwa yells from another part of the apartment in concern.

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.” You slowly inch closer to his desktop, smoothing your hands on the top of the mic where his soft lips purred the most filthiest words.

“Oh. Did you hear what I said?”

“No uh, sorry I was checking out your collection. Wha’cha say again?”

You hear rummaging and stumble just when you thought Seonghwa was close by. “Did you want anything to drink? A water maybe?”

“Nah I’m stuffed. Thanks though.” You slowly slip your fingers off one by one. You were afraid even the slightest move could trigger your clumsiness , and have to face Seonghwa running in here to save his precious belongings.

“Could you come here real fast? I need your help with something!”

“Uh yeah? ‘m comin.”

You search in every room until you found him which didn’t take long. Of all places you’d thought he be the bedroom would be the last you would want .“Hey…what’s up?”

“Hey”, he says with a blatant tone. His face looked even more blatant which made you feel uneasy. “I know this might sound crazy but, I think we have some unfinished business."

“That does sound crazy. I’ll definitely need some elaboration.”

Could it be?

“Of course, I understand. Let me start by saying that I've never stopped thinking about you since we last spoke."

No, it couldn’t be.

“I’m sorry. what the hell are we talking about again? We just met a few hours ago. Like tonight.”

"Okay!” Seonghwa exclaims, cranking out his neck to prepare for what he was going to say, and carefully. “I guess we need a recap-we first met online, exchanged more than a few words. We introduced our crotches, played games, and oh-we came so hard, and then I got really busy, and never followed up.”

But it could be…

“How the fuck did you know it was me?” You cower in a panic. “I never even showed you my fucking face.” You fall to your knees and breathes deeply in your hands. You truly thought you were being careful.

Being the observant person he is, Seonghwa senses your sudden panic, reacting swiftly by getting down on one knee so that he is face-to-face with you. “Well, there's no need to panic. Darling…don't worry. I could just tell.”

You seperate your fingers and take a good look at Seonghwa’s detail features. He takes it as an opportunity to look in between to what he though was the most captivating eyes in the universe.

“Well how easy for you to say. I had video sex with my friends classmate, and then ate dinner with him knowing he’s the guy I had video sex with. W-what did you mean you could tell?”

His smile widens as he sees you peeking further at him. He leans in a little closer, maintaining eye contact. "Well, first off, I think it's quite an intriguing coincidence, and let me assure you that I won't tell anyone about our little secret, okay?" He waits until your small nod before continuing.

"As for how I knew it was you. I saw your face when the camera got kicked up by your legs. I know it’s a major dick move but, I couldn’t- I didn’t want to tell you. I wanted to go all the way with you. You were just too fucking beautiful to be dispensed out of my memory forever.”

You slowly uncover your face and your eyesight immediately goes to his lips. “Fucking hell.” Shit, I knew it was too risky.” You look at his eyes again, which are now on your lips. “I can’t believe I’m saying this fucking bullshit but I’m glad it was you.”

Seonghwa’s eyes light up and he makes the hesitant move of putting his palms on your redden cheeks. He leans in even closer, his gaze filled with warmth, and understanding. "You know what?"

“Yeah…?” He grins mischievously, before leaning in slowly, giving you ample time to pull back if you wanted to. "I'm glad it was me too. And you know what else? I think we should make up for lost time."

“You mean-you mean you wanna-

“Yeah, I wanna. I want to have sex with you. I want to feel you completely, and for real this time.”

“You promise to treat me like a good little slut?”, you whisper, gaining proximity to his lips like they were a love spell.

“Only if you behave like one.”

You move to smash your lips shirt his in a sloppy tongue kiss. Although touch was a firsthand experience, your feelings weren’t. He taps your thighs, urging you to wrap your arms around what you found to be a very slender waistline.

He was caught off guard by the sudden kiss, but he quickly adapts, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you back with enthusiasm. As the two of you pull apart, he smiles against your lips, gently the apples of your cheeks. "Okay my good little slut”, he murmurs.

Seonghwa lifts you both up on his feet and tosses you on the bed. He grabs onto the hem of your boyfriend fitted jeans, unfastening them and taking them swift off your body.

“It’s been a while since I checked on kitsune hm?” He takes off your jeans and undergarments swiftly. “As gorgeous as she was before. Looks like I didn’t get catfished.”

You found it amusing, snickering under his chest. ‘So much for being real and human,’ you thought.“How’s Saber? Standing up like usual?” You raise your bare feet, smoothing it over the tightness in his jeans.

He tsk, taking your wrist in his hold and throwing your arm to the side. “Now we’re not off to a good start now are we? I really wanted to take it easy with you, but it seems like you like to do things the hard way.” He leans into your ear and teasingly takes a nibble. “What’s your safe word?”, he whispers.

“Strawberry,” you playfully whispered with a giggle.

Seongwha bites his lip as he nods in with a groan pulling away from your ear.

He inserts and curls his finger inside the cunt. At first it started with a few strokes, but then he full fledged fucked you on them as he pulls and pushes them in and out.

You whine loudly the pleasure, but you stay obedient, unwavering your wide open thighs from his head.

Seongwha notices your loyal submissions and gives you a mischievous grin. “There she is. The little slut I directed about a week ago.“What’s your safe word?”, he repeats.

You shake your head. You’re not ready to say it, you know it’s a trick. A test. You don’t want this to end.

“Good fucking girl.” He attaches his mouth onto your clit with his fingers now slowly dragging in the top of your walls. You feel the tip of his tongue flick your bean- causing your hips to jerk in immediate response.

As your moans grow louder his tongue swivels faster like a snake on the hunt. Accumulating all the slick ‘til the peak of your shaking orgasm.“That feel good my little tasty slut?”

“M-mhmm. It felt-fucking great.” You try to sit up but Seonghwa climbs to meet your face with his. “It would be dishonorable of me to not return the favor.”

He takes his cum covered fingers and shove them in your mouth. “Be quiet now, my sweet darling. Your debts have already been paid.” He pulls his fingers out slowly, slicking them down his torso until it reaches the cum outside his boxers.

“Shit. That’s so hot.”

“It is getting a bit warm in here hm? Maybe I should lighten up a little on the garments. Saber is in need of some air way.” Seongwha races in his pants to grab a condom in his wallet.

You watch the whole showcase of him slipping it on slowly so he wouldn’t grow tender from the simulating pain. When he’s finished, you reach to him like it was the first real piece of gold you’ve ever seen. His cockhead twitches.

“In sorry but…” he smacks away your eager hand, “kitsune gets first dibs. After all, they have yet to formally meet. So therefore Saber…Kitsune. Kitsune…he pushes your legs back aligning himself with your heat as he smiles at your genitals…Saber.”

Your toes spread from his insertion, and they close in from when he pulls back in and practice his penetrations. He was searching your face for discomfort, he wanted to take you there, and you were smiling widely giving him a positive sign that it was all okay.

He leans into you until your pelvis’s touch. He then begans thrusting at a lethal angle, killing your from the inside.

You began to feel every nerve in your thighs in legs tremble to uphold themselves in good strength. Seongwha was taking it all out of you, and it didn’t help when he separated your legs to get closer to your core.

Added ecstasy was released as he grabbed your jaw and claimed your lips for his taking. He was such a good fucking kisser. Even if you weren’t kissing back it would feel so passionate.

His hand begans to slip behind your neck and he lunges your body forward. Unknowingly doing damage to himself as you as your pussy clamps onto his dick, and your walls suction to be immovable and tightening.

“Fuck. I’m so fucked, darling. I don’t want to upset you but, I’m gonna cum, and it’s gonna be fast and hard.

“Do it hwa. Do it while you’re inside me, i’m beat there with you.”

He follows your direction like a game of Simon says. He adds the intense pleasure of massaging your overly stimulated clitoris, making it bloom in arousal.

Soon enough you came with more shakes and shivers to your nerves. So the extra movement and clamping didn’t leave Seongwha too far behind. He was whining and his arms were weak from being used and upheld for some time.

He twist his body so he fell next to you, discarding his condom into his trash as you both caught your breaths.

He rolls over and analyzes you with pure admiration, and your eyes had easily met with his because you were both thinking the same thing.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I want to take you with me, and carry you everywhere in my pocket.”

“Dual enrollment is good of you wanna take a few extra classes you might need”, you tease with a wink.

“I have a degree in sexology if you need a few credits. We also offer private lessons free of cost. Seongwha swiped his thumb on your bottom lip. “I suggest Brat Taming 101.”

Your bottom lip stretches slightly downward as you openly smile. “Would that make me a teacher’s pet if I get any specialized treatment?”

“Well you are bunny after all. What choice would I have not to?”

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

A/N: Pheeewww how ya’ll feelin…it’s hot.

Thank you for reading,

Much love

xoxo

PLEASE DO NOT COPY MY ORIGINAL WORKS, reblogs are appreciated and accepted. Stealing and modifying my work or publishing out on other platforms is not.

#ateez au #ateez seonghwa #seonghwa #seonghwa x reader #ateez smut #atz #just girly thoughts #1117feverlessdreams #in heat #ateez fic #ateez imagines #100 notes #200 notes

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