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forzalando · 10 months ago

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Orange Theory

Charles Leclerc x best friend!reader (female reader)

summary: charles and his best friend do countless nice things for each other, but they're just behaving like any good friend would. right? wc: 2.5k author's note: ok guys so this is not the Charles fic i promised (she is still a WIP and i will finish her eventually. probably will have to be a multi-part fic with how long it's getting), but i hope you enjoy this one in the meantime! special thanks to @scuderiahoney for encouragement and inspiration. special thanks to @sof1shticated for reading and assuring me this doesn't suck. if you haven't read their fics, both Lee and Mel have some gems that i adore. HIGHLY recommend checking out their masterlists! warnings: none!

You loved summer break – Charles was home for at least a few weeks, days spent on a yacht, every afternoon and evening spent with friends either at dinner or out at some club until someone got too drunk to carry on.

Today was, in your humble opinion, the perfect day. All of your friends, courtesy of Charles, were sprawled out on the sun deck of a rented boat or splashing around in the water below. You could feel the heat radiating off of Lando as he laid next to you and whispered about how McLaren was making insane upgrades – according to him, they might just have a race-winning car in the second half of the season.

“Are you boring my best friend to tears, Norris?” The brutal sun disappeared behind Charles’ body as he stood above you – as if on instinct, he shifted slightly so that you could look up at him and not be blinded by its rays.

“She’s hanging on my every word, right, Y/N? In fact, she asked me how I’m feeling about Zandvoort and the rest of the season.”

“And?” Charles asked, a small smile on his face.

“Like I would tell you what’s going on with the car! I know Y/N can keep a secret, she would never betray me to a prancing horse. She bleeds papaya.”

You laughed along with Lando – the one point of contention that had always existed in your friendship with Charles. Of course, you became a Ferrari fan because of him, but you’d always been a McLaren and Mercedes loyalist. It was something that Lando, Oscar, and George relished in.

“Alright, alright, no need to rub it in, Norris,” you giggled. “What can I do for you, Charlie?”

“I just came to give you this.”

Within seconds, a perfectly peeled orange dropped in your lap. Lando’s eyes grew wide for a moment but a swift glare from Charles had his face back to normal in no time. You missed the interaction, jumping up from your seat in excitement.

“Aw, Charlie! You are the best friend a girl could ask for,” you chirped as you started separating the wedges of fruit.

“Ah, don’t mention it,” he sighed, waving his citrus-scented hand in the air. “There’s more in the cooler if you want! Freshly peeled!”

“Thank you, mon cher ami.” You quickly kissed his cheek, noticing as you pulled away just how red it was, along with his neck and the tips of his ears. “Charles! How many times do I have to tell you to put on sunscreen? Your face and neck are fried!”

“I don’t think it’s from the sun,” Lando mumbled, his eyes trained on the fruit in your hands. With Charles insisting he was fine, you could barely hear what he had said.

“What did you say, Lan?” You asked, turning your attention away from Charles for a moment.

Once again, Lando was met with a menacing glare and he laughed awkwardly before moving his gaze to the horizon.

“Nothing, nothing, Y/N. Just thinking out loud.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you turned back to Charles and handed him the orange he had just given to you. With your now free hands, you rifled through your beach bag until you found the SPF 50 face cream you had packed that morning with Charles in mind.

“Here, I packed this for you. Please put some on so I don’t have to worry about you getting sun poisoning,” you pleaded with your best puppy dog eyes.

Charles stared without answering for far too long – anything you wanted, all you had to do was ask him and he’d do it. Even without you gazing at him with your wide, siren eyes, he would give you the world if you so desired it.

He shook his head slightly, pulling himself out of the daze caused by your pleading eyes. “Oui, ma fleur, I will put on the sun cream. Je promets.”

You smiled in triumph, taking the orange back from Charles and bidding him a “see you later” before laying back down in your lounger. Popping an orange slice into your mouth, you let out a contented sigh. Somehow, whether Charles was magic or he had some serious connections in the produce world, the fruit he picked out and gave to you always tasted better than anything you bought yourself.

“He peels your oranges for you?”

You hummed and turned to Lando – “what, Lan?”

“Does Charles always peel your oranges for you?”

“Well, no, obviously not always. Why?”

Before Lando could answer, Lily plopped down next to you and stole an orange slice from your hand.

“I swear,” she huffed, “Alex and George are competitive to begin with, but when they get together, it’s unbearable. They’ve been having a “who can hold their breath the longest” contest for the past thirty minutes! Rematch after rematch after rematch, I called in my favor with Oscar to get out of judging their little competition.”

“As if either of them could beat me, they probably didn’t ask me to join because they’re scared,” Lando bragged. “I’ll leave you ladies to chat, go show them how it’s done.”

As Lando walked towards the edge of the boat, you and Lily turned towards one another.

“Men,” you scoffed in unison, following it up with belly laughs and lingering giggles.

As the laughter died down, Lily ate the orange slice she had stolen from you and practically moaned in delight. “Where did you get this orange? It might be the best I’ve ever had!”

“It’s from Charles! I was just thinking about this, I don’t know how he does it but he always has the best fruit. Every time he brings me any I am both ecstatic and pissed off – my fruit is never as good as his and we shop at the same grocery store!”

“Well, does he have any more oranges? I could eat 20 of these.”

“He said he left me more in his cooler, let me grab them.”

A few moments later, you walked back to Lily with a bag of peeled oranges in your right hand and two bottles of water in your left.

“Are you a professional orange peeler? You were only gone for two minutes.”

“Oh no,” you giggled, “Charles peeled them for me. He knows I don’t like peeling them so when he can, he always does it for me.”

“Y/N,” Lily looked at you suspiciously, “do you know what the orange peel theory is?”

You wracked your brain but came up empty. “No, what is it?”

Lily went into a brief explanation – something about how it became a viral tik tok challenge, people asking their partners if they would peel an orange for them and how it was an indicator of true love, soulmates, a healthy relationship, and everything in between. “Well, that’s just silly,” you mumbled through chews, orange juice dribbling down your chin. “I think it just means someone is a good person – Charlie and I aren’t anything more than friends and he peels my oranges, among other things, because he has a good heart.”

“Among other things?” Lily pressed you, her eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place.

“He slices my apples because I have never been able to master the apple corer contraption! And he takes all my grapes off the stems when he’s at my place because I never do – it’s too tedious.”

“What else?”

“Oh, when we go out to breakfast, he always brings me a tea when he picks me up. He’s an early riser and I take forever to get ready. He knows I never have time to make it myself when we have plans before 10am.”

Lily was smirking at you, no, smiling at you. It was a little unnerving, the way she was entirely amused at the information you were giving her. However, the moment was briefly interrupted by the arrival of Alex.

“What are we talking about, ladies?” He spoke cheerfully, a broad smile on his face which meant that he was most likely declared the best breath holder of the 2019 rookies.

“Y/N was just telling me about all the sweet things Charles does for her,” Lily gushed.

“Oh god, when is he not doing things for her? Did you see him buttering her bread for her at dinner last week?”

Lily burst out laughing while you playfully punched Alex’s arm. “I’m indecisive! He butters it for me while I read the menu since it takes me so long to figure out what I want to order. It saves time!”

“He does that on a regular basis?” Alex asked incredulously, looking at Lily with wide eyes. “My god, that man is head over heels.”

“Alex,” you protested, “Charles is not in love with me. We’ve been friends for six years, I think I would know by now.”

“You’re both impossible,” Alex groaned. “Come on, Lily, I just came over to get you so we could play water polo with George and Carmen.”

Lily sighed in defeat, though she had a smile on her face at the thought of spending time with Alex even if it meant another competition. “I’ll see you, later, yeah?” She called over her shoulder, waving goodbye as you teased her by dramatically eating another slice of orange and settling back in your chair. At the front of the boat, Charles was laughing with Pierre and almost as if he felt you looking, he turned around and met your gaze.

Even though you had just wholly denied anything more than friendship between you and him, you couldn’t help but think about your interactions with Lily and Alex.

Sure, Charles sometimes did things that were out of the ordinary for ‘just friends’, but he had the sweetest soul of anyone you’d ever met. He always sacrificed his umbrella or jacket for you, made sure you had fresh tulips in your apartment when he was home in between races, had your favorite meal delivered to you when you were having a rough day while he was away and you missed him.

You did things for him too – cleaned his apartment when you knew he was on his way back to Monaco, left him plenty of sticky notes with words of encouragement if he was coming back from a bad race, stocked his fridge full of his favorite things. Recently, you’d been gifting him annotated books because he mentioned he wanted to read more and always enjoyed listening to you talk about your favorite novels. Since you spent most of the year apart, you decided he could at least read your thoughts.

When you could come to races, unfortunately a rare occurrence due to your graduate classes and work schedule, he made sure Ferrari hospitality had your favorite flavor of sparkling water on hand. Anytime you saw a cute dog video, you would send it to him because they always made him smile.

You’d do anything to make him smile, just as he would for you, which is what a good friend would do. A best friend, it’s what a best friend would do.

But best friends didn’t linger in doorways and stare at each other’s lips when bidding each other goodnight. They didn’t cuddle close and fall asleep in each other’s arms on a couch while watching whatever movie you had chosen because he always let you choose.

They didn’t look at one another the way Charles was looking at you now – his sunglasses pushed up on top of his head and a dopey smile on his face. He waved to you and dramatically blew you a kiss, something he always did when he caught your eye across a room, no matter who was around.

You practically launched yourself to your feet, the last remaining orange slices in your lap falling to the lounger and staining the seat with juice. It was only seconds until you were standing in front of Charles but the walk over felt like an eternity with the way the world around you disappeared and your heart pounded in your chest.

“Est-ce que tu maimes, Charles?”

The question came out in one breath, your chest heaving in anticipation for his response.

“Of course, I love you, ma fleur,” he laughed. “What’s gotten into you?”

“No,” you panted. “Do you love me, Charlie? Est-ce que tu maimes?”

“Of course, I love you,” he answered again, his eyes shining and a small smile on his face that told you everything you needed to know. “Every time I think of you, I love you. Every time I breathe, I love you.”

“Every time you peel my oranges?” You whispered, holding up your orange juice-stained fingertips. He took your right hand in his and held it up to his face to kiss your palm, his eyelashes fluttering against you gently.

“Especially when I peel your oranges. Did you know that I hate doing it too? Like, really hate it. I don’t even peel them for myself.”

You gasped in shock, watching as he threw his head back and laughed jovially.

“I’d do anything for you, ma fleur. Mon soleil. Mon cœur.”

“Would you kiss me?”

“Maybe if Pierre would leave and stop gawking at us.”

This time you threw your head back to laugh, Charles soon joining you as Pierre protested the accusation.

“No, no,” he shouted, “you didn’t even give me a chance to leave. Just started declaring your love before I knew what was happening. Which, by the way, was so obvious it was starting to get annoying. We’ve all tried dropping hints to both of you so I don’t know who got through to you, Y/N, but – ”

“Pierre!” You shouted, eyes wide and arm gesturing him away from the two of you.

“Ah, désolé, I’m leaving,” he grumbled, almost tripping over his own feet to get away as quickly as possible.

You giggled again and Charles gripped your chin softly, pulling your eyes away from Pierre and back to face him.

He leaned in gently, as if he was afraid you would back away and regret taking the leap to go from friends to something so much more.

He tasted like salt water, smelled like sweet fruit and sunscreen – you smiled into the kiss knowing that he had listened to you and put it on, even though you knew he hated the way it felt on his skin.

His fingers gripped your waist and yours trailed up his chest – both of you slightly sticky from the citrus juices and sweat from the sun.

You pulled away and nudged his nose with yours, breathing him in and wishing that this moment would never end. Charles lowered you both to the sun deck, adjusting until you were sitting between his legs and his arms were wrapped firmly around you, the two of you facing the sunset and open sea.

After a few moments, you broke the shared silence. “You know, I would have happily peeled an orange for you if you had ever asked me,” you asserted.

Charles’ hold on you softened at your admission, the thinly veiled meaning not at all lost on him as he pressed his lips to your cheek.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfic #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x reader #forzalando #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

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coryndoll · 20 days ago

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waking up to you

au!rafe cameron x reader

— in which you wake up in a strange alternate reality that just so happens to be the outer banks universe, and to your disbelief, you’re suddenly in a relationship with the shows most unlikely character, rafe cameron.

warnings: Y/N & RAFE DATE 😋 teasing, pretty safe chapter

authors note: btw readers only “weird” around cynthia bc ngl id act like that if i came across her bc shes so annoying on the show omg. but EEE hi guys. if u still arent part of the tag list, feel free to lmk thru replies, anons, dms, or reblogs !!

you’re not surprised to wake up in rafe’s bed again. at this point, it’s almost routine, though every time still feels surreal.

you’ve gotten used to the soft sheets, the familiar scent of him on the pillows, and the way the morning light filters through the blinds just right, casting a warm glow over his peaceful, sleeping face.

he looks so different like this—calm, almost vulnerable. it’s a version of him that no one else really gets to see. and you? you don’t mind at all.

you take a quiet breath, just watching him for a moment longer. but then, his eyes flutter open, and you freeze, quickly closing your eyes to pretend like you’re still sleeping. maybe if you play it off well enough, he won’t—

a finger pokes at your side, and you can’t help the involuntary squirm and groan that escapes you. “rafe,” you mutter, barely opening one eye to glare at him. but he just grins, clearly pleased with himself for catching you.

“thought you were asleep,” he teases, voice rough from sleep, poking your side again until you half-heartedly swat at his hand.

“you’re so annoying,” you mumble, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you. “get off of me.”

the morning quickly slips into a blur, and before you know it, you're tagging along with rafe for a ride around the island—except not just any ride. he’s got his dirt bike out, the same one you’d seen on the show.

you were kind of surprised when you first saw it in the garage. in the world you knew, rafe got this bike after the first episode started, but here? no rules seem to apply anymore.

you’re wrapped tightly around his torso, his helmet snug on your head as he drives the bike through town, on the beaches, through quiet streets and long stretches of open road. the wind whips past your face, and you can’t help but smile into it, arms locked around him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

eventually, he pulls up to some kook-itorium, the bike coming to a slow stop. rafe kicks the stand down and hops off first, turning to help you off like he always does. his hands are warm as they slide into yours, and for a second, he just holds them, staring down at you with a grin.

“so, what do you think?” he asks, pulling you a little closer as you hop off the bike. he’s been practically advertising himself on the way over here. “a date? hrm? just you n’ me. anywhere you want.”

you smile up at him. “yeah,” you say softly. “i’d like that.”

he tugs you toward the entrance of the building, still holding onto your hand. “just don’t pick somewhere like the seaview grill or— god, that lame museum your mom likes.”

when you step inside the building, it takes you a moment to realize where rafe has brought you. the place has that unmistakable country club vibe—polished, pristine, like every corner of it has been touched by money. but it’s smaller, rounder in shape, and more modern than the main country club building next door. servers move swiftly between tables, balancing trays and drinks. rafe, of course, heads straight past all of this, not even glancing at the downstairs dining area.

you follow him upstairs, past the busy floor where people are eating, drinking, and talking in their quiet, refined way. upstairs, though, it’s a whole different world.

the second floor is open and airy, with barely any walls to box anything in. it’s just the floor, held up by tall pillars that support the roof above, letting the fresh air and views of the island spill right in. the only structure that really stands out is the bar in the middle—a sleek, modern setup that takes up a good portion of the space, all glossy wood and glass shelves stocked with high-end bottles.

the place is filled with kooks, most of them middle-aged. they don’t seem to notice you and rafe, or if they do, they don’t care. oh right, rafe should be about 22 now, legal to drink here. does that make the others 18 and 19?

anyway, rafe is clearly familiar here. a few nods are thrown his way as he leads you forward, and he nods back, murmuring casual greetings under his breath as you weave between tables. you’re amused, but there’s a small part of you that’s bothered.

you thought maybe rafe had brought you here for food downstairs, but it’s pretty clear now that this is just one of his regular stops to get a drink—probably whiskey or even scotch, knowing him. but you keep your mouth shut, not wanting to spoil the mood.

he finally lets go of your hand when he reaches the bar, leaning against the counter with crossed arms as he asks for his drink. you linger beside him for a second, glancing around the open space. the view from up here is stunning, with a perfect sightline to the docks and the country club’s main establishment just next door.

you rub your arm awkwardly, feeling a little out of place among all the well-dressed older folks. after a beat, you step closer to rafe, gently touching his arm to get his attention. “i’m gonna go use the restroom,” you say quietly.

he nods, not taking his eyes off the bartender. but before you can turn to leave, he grabs your arm, tugging you back toward him for a quick kiss. it’s his way of saying 'be safe,' you guess, a small gesture that makes you smile despite the surroundings. you give his arm a gentle squeeze in return, then slip away to head downstairs.

just as you’re descending the steps, though, a familiar voice drifts up toward you. and then you see him—topper, making his way up the stairs. your heart sinks in the half-second you have to process it.

great. the last time you talked to him was at the party, when he was stumbling over some half-assed apology. and now here he is, about to cross your path.

fantastic. just what you needed.

the moment his eyes land on you, there’s a flicker of recognition that lights up his face, just for a moment—like spotting an old acquaintance in a crowd.

“y/n!” he says, his hands coming up as if he’s presenting you to the world. he glances at his mom as if to say, ‘look who it is’. you can feel your heart rate pick up as you pause on the steps, furrowing your brows at them.

they were definitely just talking about you right before this.

you force a smile, but it’s small and tight, barely breaking through your unease. “hi, topper,” you mumble, glancing between him and his mom. there’s a brief moment of silence as you weigh your options—whether to continue this conversation or slip away.

ultimately, you choose the latter. you take a step forward, moving past them and continuing down the stairs, leaving them behind. as you go, you can feel topper’s eyes on you.

he glances down at his shoes and shifts awkwardly, but then, just as quickly, he looks up again. “come on, let’s just go upstairs,” he insists to his mom, trying to shake it off as they both start moving again.

it’s not that you wanted to dismiss topper and his mom or anything. really, you just don’t see the point in lingering in the middle of a public staircase, one of the only two that connected the floors of the country club. you don’t want to be rude, but you also don’t want to talk to topper—especially after your last encounter at the party.

topper and his mom step off the stairs, but the moment topper spots rafe, a grin spreads across his face.

“hey, good seein’ you back here again,” topper greets, approaching the bar with a friendly demeanor.

rafe daps him up casually. “you too, man,” rafe replies, genuinely glad to see him.

topper's mom stands just a foot away, carrying her purse and looking utterly uninterested in the interaction, her gaze flicking off to the side as if she’s assessing the other patrons. she’s never been a fan of rafe, just barely tolerating him because he comes from a good family, and it shows in the way she avoids direct eye contact.

pulling away from the handshake, toppers eyes glance back toward the staircase as if expecting you to appear at any moment. “saw you and y/n come in,” he adds, “just wanted to say hi.”

rafe nods with a smile as he leans back against the bar, one elbow resting casually on the counter. he glances at topper’s mom. “hey, cynthia,” he says, flashing her a grin.

her expression shifts from indifference to surprise, and then it hardens, almost offended by the casual familiarity. she’s always been the type to keep her distance from him, and rafe knows it. to her, he’s still just another troublemaker, another bad influence.

topper notices the slight tension and looks back to rafe, his brow furrowing slightly. “so, what’s up with y/n?” he asks, his tone casual but laced with a hint of concern.

rafe squints, his head cocking to the side as he regards topper. “what do you mean, ‘what’s up’?” he replies, his voice subtly defensive and carrying a hint of warning. “is there something wrong with her?”

topper realizes how that might sound and shakes his head quickly. “no, no, man. i just think she’s, like . . . avoiding me or something,” he clarifies, waving a hand dismissively as if trying to brush off any potential drama.

rafe chuckles, raising his glass up to his lips. “are you surprised?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at topper, the teasing tone evident. he shakes his head, a look of amusement on his face. “girls, man.”

cynthia catches the comment, her expression shifting to one of disapproval. she mutters a clipped ‘ten minutes’ to her son before leaving without a word, turning on her heel and heading toward the stairs to leaving topper there with him.

topper watches her go, feeling the weight of the awkwardness settle over him. he glances back at rafe, who is now watching the scene unfold with a smirk, clearly amused by the whole thing.

“so, what are you guys up to?” topper asks, trying to steer the conversation back to safer waters.

when you step out of the bathroom, you spot her immediately—cynthia, standing at the bottom of the stairs like she’s waiting for her son. you briefly consider turning around, maybe pretending not to notice, but it’s too late. her sharp gaze finds yours, and there’s no escaping it now.

this is great.

you adjust your posture, trying to look casual as you make your way toward the stairs, your mind racing for an excuse to cut this conversation short. the last thing you want is to get caught up with cynthia—if she’s anything like the way she was on the show, you are not open to a conversation.

but it’s like you’re trapped. her eyes lock on you, and she takes a few steps forward in those polished black heels. “y/n,” she says, and there’s a hint of something icy behind that tone, even though she’s putting on a smile.

you stop, eyebrows raising as you stand in place, trying to gauge the situation. her smile is forced, you can tell immediately, but so is yours as you mirror her expression. “cynthia, it’s so . . . nice to see you again,” you say, the words slipping out of your mouth because, well, kooks always know kooks, right? you assume this universe’s y/n has seen her before.

but as soon as the words leave your mouth, cynthia’s expression shifts—her lips purse, and her eyes narrow slightly, pulling her head back like you’ve just said something ridiculous. yep. that was wrong. completely wrong.

“last time i saw you, you were just a kid! every time you come over to my home now, it’s like you’re always sneaking around,” she remarks, her voice dripping with that fake kindness, the kind that’s so transparently bitter it almost stings.

your stomach twists. yeah, this is definitely not the conversation you wanted. “and how are your parents?” cynthia continues, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.

you wave your hand, trying to shrug it off like it’s no big deal. “they’re great! in costa rica right now, on vacation,” you respond, trying to keep things light.

but cynthia hums, her expression a little too knowing. “i heard it was a business trip?” she says, tilting her head slightly.

you clear your throat, feeling the tension grow. this woman is the worst. you’re slipping up so bad. “mix of both,” you say, your voice strained as you force another fake smile.

there’s a brief, uncomfortable silence before the two of you lean forward, laughing in that awkward, forced way where neither of you are actually amused. the laugh dies quickly, and as soon as it does, you drop the pretense, turning on your heel as you head back upstairs, feeling weird about the interaction.

you feel like you were just quizzed. and you failed.

once you’re back upstairs, you immediately catch rafe’s eye as you step into the room. he’s leaning casually against one of the tables, a glint in his eye that matches the small smirk tugging at his lips the second he spots you.

his whole demeanor shifts, but topper, who’s mid-sentence, doesn’t seem to notice right away—until he realizes rafe isn’t paying attention. topper twists around to follow his line of sight, spotting you before continuing whatever rant he was on.

rafe briefly glances back at him, half-listening, as you approach the two of them. when you get close enough, you quietly reach for rafe’s glass, bringing it to your nose to smell whatever’s left of his drink. without a word, you tilt your head back and down what’s left, swallowing with a grimace as you place the empty glass back on the table.

both boys stare at you, each reacting differently. topper furrows his brow, eyes flicking to the glass to see if there’s anything left. “what’s up with you?” he asks, confused, clearly sensing something off.

rafe, on the other hand, is looking at you with a blank expression, though there’s a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth—because he knows. “she was definitely just talking to your mom, top,” rafe says with a knowing smile, his tone carrying just the right amount of humor to suggest that, naturally, a conversation with cynthia would drive someone to drink.

topper’s face falls slightly, but he doesn’t even argue. he just glances between the two of you in silence because he knows rafe’s probably right. with a quick check of his phone, he pushes away from the table, his energy deflating. “alright, i’ve gotta go. see you guys.”

“bye, top,” you murmur, watching as he walks off, leaving just you and rafe standing together. once topper’s out of sight, you tilt your head all the way up, meeting rafe’s gaze with a lazy, playful smile.

“you decide on where we’re going?” rafe asks, sliding an arm around you, pulling you close as he starts guiding you toward the stairs.

you hum for a long moment, trying to think, before making something up on the spot. “let’s go jet skiing,” you say, half-joking but testing the waters to see what he’d say.

rafe raises his eyebrows, a slight chuckle escaping him. “you wanna go to monty’s?” he repeats, and you assume it could be some jet ski rental place you must go to. he’s amused but surprisingly open to it. “we can go to monty’s, darlin’.”

rafe drives the two of you out to some place a mile or two away, the sign out front reading ‘montgomery’s jet ski rentals’ in bold blue letters. it’s tucked away along a small marina.

you step out of the car. it’s here that you notice the way rafe moves—a kind of quiet confidence that’s hard to ignore. he strides toward the dock with his head held high, like he’s done this a hundred times. you can’t tell if it’s because you two have apparently been here so often that he just knows his way around or if he’s just naturally this confident.

while rafe chats easily with the staff, laughing and slapping one guy on the back like they’re old friends, you find yourself preparing for the ride. you slip into a life vest, adjusting the straps so it fits snugly.

then you’re stepping onto the dock, the jet ski bobbing gently in the water. rafe climbs on first, settling into the front seat, and turns back to offer you his hand. you take it, letting him guide you into place behind him, and then you wrap your arms around his waist. it feels natural, like you’re meant to be there, holding onto him like this.

and, god, the thought hits you—this is probably a dream for hundreds, maybe thousands of people. to be on a jet ski with drew starkey, any version of him, arms wrapped around his waist, close enough to feel the warmth of his back.

it’s a little surreal, and you can’t help but feel grateful for this weird fucking alternate universe you’re in. being a kook, being rafe cameron’s girlfriend, living out days like this—you could get used to it. you could live like this forever.

rafe glances forward, that cocky smirk barely visible at the corner of his lips. without looking back at you, he mutters, “hold on.” and before you have a chance to reply, he twists the throttle, and the jet ski leaps forward, tearing across the water. your arms instinctively tighten around his waist as the engine roars, and you feel the force of the speed pushing you back slightly.

your eyes widen as you’re propelled across the open water. the jet ski skims over waves. you can barely keep from laughing as the wind whips through your hair. it’s fast—so much faster than you expected—and your heart is beating more than ever.

rafe steers you two in wide, looping turns and tight figure-eights, shouting the loudest, most carefree ‘woo!’ that you think you’ve ever heard. his voice carries over the hum of the engine and the slap of the waves, his laughter echoing as you cling on, a laughing mess yourself.

as the jet ski finally begins to slow, you let your chin rest on his back, just near his shoulder so you can look out ahead. you’re both breathing heavily from the ride, and he’s still grinning, clearly thrilled by his own reckless route. he isn’t heading anywhere specific, just weaving around, but that’s what makes it even better. there’s no destination—just you, him, and the freedom of open water.

“wanna take over?” rafe calls out, and you laugh, thinking he’s kidding. but when he glances back over his shoulder, you catch his expression and feel your own smile falter, realizing he’s dead serious.

next thing you know, you’re seated in front, fingers gripping the throttle while rafe sits behind you, holding on with that unshakeable grin of his. the jet ski jolts forward as you try to get the hang of the controls, and you immediately feel the panic rise, the machine moving faster than you expected.

“rafe, i don’t know what i’m doing!” you shout over your shoulder, but rafe’s only response is laughter.

“just go easy on the throttle,” he says, half-shouting and half-laughing as you attempt to steer. but the jet ski wobbles, veering off a bit too quickly, and your grip slips.

“rafe!” you yell, barely keeping control as he’s practically doubled over behind you, finding the whole thing hysterical. he tries to guide you through it, but it’s impossible to listen when you’re both shouting and laughing, the jet ski zigzagging across the water.

but it slows. he wants to teach you properly.

you feel rafe's hands slip over yours, his fingers resting gently against yours as he takes control of the throttle from behind. his touch is firm but relaxed, guiding your grip as he leans in close, his breath warm against your ear. “steady now,” he murmurs. “ease it forward like this, yeah?”

you nod. his voice is a steady hum as he talks you through it. “just a little pressure here,” he says, pressing lightly against the throttle. “see? easy.” his fingers guide yours over the controls until you can feel how each movement changes the jet ski’s pace.

after a minute or two, he lets you take over, his hands staying in place to catch you if needed, but he’s not pushing or pulling anymore. you start to feel it, understanding the rhythm of the throttle and how to steer, and rafe just chuckles.

“that’s my girl,” he says, patting his hand on the spot between your thigh and hip, sending a flutter through you as his hand settles back around you.

a grin stretches across your face, and before you know it, you’re letting out a loud scream that echoes across the water as you pick up speed, trusting yourself more with every second. you’re moving faster, the wind whipping past, and for a moment you feel invincible.

when you decide to slow down, you ease off the throttle, leaning back just enough to press into rafe’s chest. you feel his laugh rumble against you. it makes you smile as you let out a breathy laugh of your own. then, you’re off again, speeding forward with rafe’s steadying hands nearby, the two of you gliding over the waves like you were born to do this together.

you’re both sitting across from each other at a little table outside a bayside café. you pick up your sandwich and take a big, satisfying bite, eyes rolling back with a muffled oh my god because it's just that good.

you didn’t realize how hungry you were until now. you lean your head back, savoring the taste, a content sigh escaping as you sit up again, still chewing, and glance at rafe across the table.

he’s got his phone out, scrolling with his eyebrows furrowed, the lines on his forehead deepening behind his sunglasses. he’s squinting slightly, or maybe he’s just annoyed by whatever’s on the screen. you pause mid-bite, lowering your sandwich slightly before asking, “you okay?”

rafe clears his throat, not looking at you just yet, and clicks his phone off. he flips it over on the table, his hand rubbing down the front of his shorts like he’s brushing something off. “yeah, all good,” he says, reaching for his own food, voice casual, but there’s a tension you can sense from his reaction.

it doesn’t add up, but you decide not to push it. you’ve learned when to give him space, and right now, you’re way more into this sandwich than trying to open up that conversation.

you take another bite, glancing around at the scene in front of you as you chew. it’s a perfect day, bay glistening in the sunlight, people passing. by with relaxed smiles, stopping in at shops or heading toward the water. montgomery’s rentals is right across the street, jet skis and kayaks lining the dock.

rafe leans back in his chair, “dad’s finally starting to trust me to, like, step into his position at the company.” he pauses for a beat, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “he’s flying out of state next week, and he’s leavin’ me in charge while he’s gone.”

you just stare at him, a faint smile tugging at your lips without even realizing it. you can feel the pride in your expression as you tell him, “rafe, that’s really good. i’m proud of you.”

he grins wider, clearly trying to play it cool, and then takes a massive, messy bite of his sandwich. he chews with the gusto of someone who thinks a bite is a whole experience, sauce smearing slightly at the corner of his mouth.

you reach over instinctively, dabbing at the corner of his mouth with a napkin and tossing it back down on the table before going back to your sandwich like it’s second nature.

he swallows and continues, “he hasn’t really told me much, but i figure he’s got some new properties lined up, maybe working out deals or, like, finalizing stuff with investors. you know how he is.”

“yeah, that sounds like ward,” you say, taking another bite, your eyes never leaving him.

“so he’s gonna give me this schedule,” he adds, “a ‘run-down’ or whatever, of what i’ll need to cover. probably sit at the office, sign some stuff, and meet with clients or partners who can’t be pushed off until he’s back.”

“sounds pretty official,” you say, trying to imagine rafe at a desk, talking clients through real estate deals like he was born for it. “do you know what kind of properties he’s working on?”

he shrugs, a small smirk still lingering as he speaks. “knowing him? probably something big—new development or another investment property he wants to secure. he’s been hinting at something ‘game-changing’, like some waterfront project.”

you hum thoughtfully. “so you’ll be doing the groundwork? like, maybe even closing a deal?”

“yeah, maybe,” he says, sounding a little impressed with himself. “i’ll actually get to see if i can handle it.”

it's nice to see rafe so eager to step up, to take on something this big, probably just to prove himself to his dad. he always acts so casual about the family business, but there’s a spark in his eyes today, and you think . . . he can maybe handle being ward cameron for a week.

you just hope you can stay here long enough to see him prove it.

he’s finishing his sandwich, wiping his mouth with a crumpled napkin, and suddenly he’s looking right at you. “oh, yeah—did you ever tell me how that call went with your mom?”

it takes you a second. right, that call with your mom. you remember mentioning it to sarah, but rafe? he still doesn’t even know you hung out with sarah and the others while he was off fishing with ward.

“oh, yeah,” you say, smiling as if the thought just occurred to you. “it was fine. nice to hear from her, i guess. i miss them.” you shrug, playing it casual. but the truth is, you kind of do.

rafe nods, shifting his empty plate and leaning back in his chair, still watching you as he says, “that’s good. i mean, you get so wrapped up in life on the island, it’s easy to go a while without catching up.”

he talks on, making small comments about family and how he totally gets it, but as you sit there, nodding occasionally, your mind is somewhere else entirely.

you almost forgot about that call with your ‘in-this-universe mom.’ it seems so strange—no, it’s stranger that you forgot about it at all. and dad . . . right, your i.t.u. dad was there, too, wasn’t he?

wait . . what?

you feel a slight prickle of discomfort, shifting in your seat as you try to catch every third word rafe’s saying, but really, your mind is circling back to that call.

dad. mom. two words, so familiar. but why are they slipping through your fingers, blurring just a bit?

you force yourself to remember something about them, to pull up a memory, clear as day.

oh! like that one time you and mom spent the whole afternoon baking, sugar and flour coating every surface in the kitchen . . . and dad was there, wasn’t he? but what did he do? your chest tightens, just slightly, and you fidget with your napkin.

okay, try again.

dad. right. he was . . . wait, no, he was definitely there—no, he was doing something.

and then, just like that, the memory clicks into place. right, he’d taken one look at the mess you and mom made, then grabbed the dog and headed out, calling back that he’d be home ‘once the tornado’s over,’ and you and mom laughed.

you exhale, relief washing over you, but there’s still a flicker of something unsettling. why couldn’t you remember that right away?

you try another memory, to reassure yourself. dad did this, mom did that. you’re sifting through so many small, precious fragments, but there’s something strange about each one, something hollow.

the parents you remember—your parents—were so vivid before. but as you replay these memories in your head, they feel softer, blurred at the edges. somehow, they seem more like your parents here—the way they’re talking, laughing, looking at you with the same expressions as your i.t.u. parents.

your stomach twists, realization beginning to dawn, but you can’t even hold onto what that realization is. the longer you stay in this world, the harder it seems to be to grasp what was real and what was . . . this.

are you forgetting your memories?

authors note: okay poor execution LMAO but i know if i was y/n, i wouldve wanted to stay in this universe but we cant have that, so essentially the conflict / the thing that makes her work harder to solve all the relationships in this life for obx!y/n is that shes losing her memories from her real life the longer shes there.

does that make sense?? 😭 like she cant have her cake n eat it too, she can only have one lifetimes memories, her real ones or the ones that belong to the y/n who lives in this universe. makes her work faster to get back to her world so she doesnt feel like she can stay !!

tags: @v2los @cosmixstar @meeuhsworld @lovdrew @lilithblackkk @rovckwells @cherrylooney @iissza @namelesslosers @cocolovey @rafeyswrd @odairtrqsh @gretag13 @vivian-555 @lunaleah @smol-coffee-addict @twinge-vix @drewsephrry @behindviolettwrites @avngrssckr @stonerroadbull @cali-888 @coquettajob @simpingcorner @nymphetkoo @pinkpantheris @ilyrafe @romaescapes @thereallifebambi @inaluvrsworld @rafesweetie @faephoria @solo-pitstop-vibes @my-fabulousness-has-arrived @sgecorrow @rafesgiirl @ravisinghs-wife @booksntings @tinyfairies @maybankslover @honeyluvsatj @darleneslane @alysaaaa444 @w4nnabeurs @thewrittenpodcast @watersquirtpewpewboomm @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @benbarneslut @illicit-affcirs @helo1281917 ++

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tojisbbygworl · 8 months ago

Text

The Apartment Across The Street - Sukuna x Reader

In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of the window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it.

Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.

Words: 6.7k

Tags - 18+ MDNI, No Use of Y/N, No Curses, Set in late 90s/early 00s, Smut, Angst, High Sex, Missionary, Degredation, Marijuana, Slight x Toji (I can't help myself)

WARNINGS - Dead Dove, Dark, Non-Con/Dub-con, Breaking and Entering, Sukuna and Toji are criminals, Sukuna's a hitman, Choking, Violence

AO3 Version

Masterlist

author's note: Heyyyy! Okay I went a little too hard like I always do so this is a bit long and (imo) it get's a little intense so be warned. I hope you enjoy hopefully I have some motivation to keep writing. art cred: @innaillus

That apartment used to be empty.

Sukuna hadn’t been home in a week. He doesn’t mind. He’s learned to not have too many hopes or expectations in this line of work. Besides, he prefers being his own boss. He accepts contracts when he needs money then he’s off until it runs out. Doesn’t matter if they take days or even weeks.

Shorter jobs like this one weren’t his treat. They don’t pay as much as he likes, but it works out. These apartments were a bit shitty, they didn’t cost too much. And, he was right in the middle of the city. Easy to meet clients. The clubs went on all night long. Which is exactly how late he was out when he was home. Actually, he was planning to go out tonight. Meet up with Toji and see if he can’t get a woman in his bed by 2 am.

He wondered how long it would take to see his newest neighbor. The way the apartments in the complex are built, you could easily see into your neighbor’s bedroom. 'State guidelines say blinds aren’t required. You buy them,' was the response he received when he brought the problem up to the landlord. A lot of people invested in curtains, maybe they hadn’t bought any yet. He saw a bed, but it seems to be the only thing they’ve managed to set up. There were a couple boxes with flaps wide open sitting beside it.

After a few more moments of rumination, he closed his curtain and laid down on his bed waiting for a text to come over. In truth, he couldn't wait to see who was unlucky enough to be his new window neighbor. The last one didn’t go too well. They also didn’t invest in curtains and he isn’t entirely sure if he’s the reason they moved out, but he’s sure they didn’t appreciate catching his stare multiple times a day. And that one time at midnight.

All it took was the next morning.

Sukuna’s eyes crept open and he stared towards the ceiling. The girl he brought home last night was dead asleep and naked on his chest. He yawned and wiped his face tiredly. He nudged the girl off of him a bit, then sat up on the side of his bed. Ugh, he felt like shit. Toji always went entirely too hard when they went out, but Sukuna doesn’t mind. He has nowhere to be. Nothing to do.

He got up and stretched then walked to the bathroom. As he completed his morning routine, he pondered about what today would behold for him. This is another reason he hated short jobs. Sukuna loves free time, but only if there’s something to do with it. There never really is.

He could kill that girl in his bedroom. In fact, he could have killed any girl he brought home since he moved in half a year ago. But the last time he made his job his hobby, it didn’t go so well for him. It was too close of a call, and getting arrested for murder just isn’t worth it. He could spend a couple months in the pen, not years at a time.

He spat out his toothpaste. Life was so fucking mundane. He had no life goals, barely any friends, his little brother hates him, and he works alone. All things he doesn’t actually care about, but shit, when is he going to get some excitement? Nothing gets him going anymore.

He needs something that will make him feel. A drug of some sort? But that doesn’t seem right to him. Even now as he walks back in the room staring at the woman in his bed, he feels nothing. If she woke back up and decided she wanted to have sex with him, he would say yes, but only because it’s something to do. He’s not feeling any particular way about her.

The moment he sat back down on the bed, she started shifting around. A few seconds later, she lifts her head and yawns. “Good morning.” She giggles, she leans over and kisses his cheek. Sukuna grunts.

The girl looks around the dark room. “It is morning, right?” She doesn’t let him answer before she stands up and opens the curtains. “Oh wow,” she exclaims. “I can see directly into your neighbor’s room.” She says. He still doesn’t get up, just hums at her.

“She’s cute though.”

Sukuna perks up upon hearing that. “Oh yeah? I haven’t seen her yet. She’s new.”

This was the first time since they’ve met that she said something interesting, but unfortunately for him, she drops the subject immediately and walks back into bed, leaving the curtains open. Sukuna holds back his sigh. Does he really want to spend the rest of his morning with this girl? It was half past 8. Way too early.

“I'm going to start getting ready for work,” he says without skipping a beat. She stops in her tracks and blinks at him, clearly not expecting that. It’s silent for a few moments. Sukuna’s not sure what she’s waiting on, but if it’s for him to say he’s kidding or let her stay, she’s sorely mistaken.

“Oh, I thought you were contracted,” she says nervously.

‘I only work when I feel like it, gorgeous.’ Sukuna inwardly curses himself for his suave nature. “Yeah. I got a contract. In an hour.”

His curtness and annoyed expression did good to make her feel completely and totally unwanted. The girl awkwardly smiled at him. “Oh, ha ha. Yeah…okay.” Sukuna got up and walked out of the room. Give her a little space to feel like shit while she gets ready to leave. He makes himself a cup of coffee, his face still that same blank expression even after he hears her rushing out the door from behind him. When she’s gone he takes himself back into his room.

He walks up to his window to close the curtains once more until someone catches his eye. He freezes and his eyebrows shoot upwards. That girl was right. She was cute. And he had the perfect view of her. She seemed to be posing or checking herself out. Sukuna wasn’t sure which one it was, but he hoped she didn’t stop. That bikini she had on was doing wonders for her, and him.

Something was off. Looking at her made him…tense. His hands were gripping the curtains, he was biting the inside of his cheek, his leg was shaking; Was it anxiety? No, she’s not making him nervous. What he’s feeling is euphoric. He likes it. He wants to grip her bare waist and squeeze her until she bruises.

In the short time he watches her, he learns 3 new things: 1. She has a mirror on the left side of her window. 2. She is completely unaware of how easily someone could see her in all her half-naked glory. 3. Sukuna could overpower her if it came down to it. Or maybe it’s 4 things. From the beating of his heart and the warm rushing feeling heading towards his dick, he learns the drug he thought he needed might not be a drug at all.

It doesn’t take long after that to finally meet her.

Before taking his most recent job, Sukuna had nearly consumed everything in his fridge. What was left was now finished and he spent a lot of his morning sulking at a half empty milk carton, his breakfast for the day. He hated eating out, it messed with his figure.

The local grocery wasn't too bad of a walk from his place, although he hated carrying everything back. He always bought a few necessities and a few ingredients to quickly whip something up for his dinner. Today, he’d have to bulk up if he doesn’t want to keep coming back.

As much as he hated the public, shopping never seemed to be a problem for him. He was tall and intimidating, he never smiled, he was always tense; people tended to avoid him like the plague. He appreciated it. But, as he enters the frozen meal aisle with his cart half full he wishes that just for a moment, he looked approachable. Then, this would be much easier.

There she was, in sweatpants and a cropped tube top, looking at the frozen pizzas. She looked like she had been home all day. She was much cuter now that he could see her better. A lot cuter. She’s pretty as hell.

Thank goodness, too. He already knew what her body looked like, what with her constantly taking pictures of herself in front of the window. She liked to play dress up, she would try on entirely different outfits before she was satisfied. Pretty soon, the colors of her bras and panties would be ingrained into his memory.

He stood there looking her up and down for a few more seconds before he started browsing once more. Although he really was looking for food he wanted, he used this opportunity to slowly get closer to her. He pretended to be interested in some frozen broccoli and he snuck a look at her. To his surprise, and enjoyment, she had done the same. When they made eye contact, she jerked and looked away. A couple moments after that, she grabbed her food and walked away into another aisle.

Sukuna chuckled to himself. She wouldn’t get away that easily. He dropped the broccoli in his cart and followed after her. He hadn’t seen which aisle she’d gone into, so he kept walking down and looking into each one until he found her trying to get some chips from a high shelf. He smiled upon seeing her struggle. Maybe this would be easier than he thought.

He managed to walk right up behind her and reach for the chips she was trying to get before she got startled. She gasped a bit and looked up at him. He looked down at her. Fuck, she was pretty. His heart started to pound, he could practically salivate at the idea of taking her home.

He hands her the chips before she can say anything, then walks away. Before he’s out of her sight he hears her say, “Thank you so much.”

Her cadence, the velvety softness of her voice; it made him want to drop to his knees. How sweet would she sound if he bit into her neck? How soft is her yelp when she stubs her toe? How shrill is her scream when she’s in pain?

Her appreciation made him stop in his tracks. He turned over his shoulder to look at her. She seemed nervous and her eyes were uncertain. Sukuna began to feel restless. So many ideas of what he could do to her if he got her alone were rushing through his mind and she was none the wiser. This aisle has been empty and no one has come by. He could take her right now.

Instead, he looks her up and down. “Yeah, sure.” And then he walks away with his shopping. He leaves wondering when next they’ll meet, she does the same as she watches his back.

“Still haven’t called the maintenance guy, huh? Lazy jackass.”

Sukuna turns his head to the side and glares at his unwanted guest. Toji may have been his best friend, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t want to break his fat neck and bury him in the park. Besides, that title meant jack shit. They met in jail and Toji helped him get on his feet when Sukuna’s sentence was up. Toji never really left him alone and Sukuna stayed because his family was rich. If anything, they were close acquaintances who had sex sometimes.

Speaking of Toji’s money, the asshole grew up in an affluent family which means his standards were a bit too high for the humble abode that Sukuna prefers. It was probably the most annoying part about him. He was complaining about the door to the bathroom. It didn’t close correctly so you had to force it shut. Something that just isn’t enough of a problem to be bothered to try and fix.

“Stop coming over if it annoys you so much,” Sukuna responds, taking another drag from their second blunt for the morning. He was finally starting to feel something from it and he didn’t want to hear Toji whining about bullshit.

“Nah, I think I’ll keep coming. Especially with your fine ass neighbor.” Toji walked away again, not seeing Sukuna’s head jerk towards him. What was he talking about? Sukuna didn’t tell him about her. Did he see her?

“Why the fuck are you in my room?” He gets up to follow behind him. Sukuna looks down the hallway and sees both his room and the bathroom doors wide open. The bathroom was empty. “Get out.”

He starts walking towards his room door but jumps back when Toji rushes out of it. “Come look at this,” he says, grabbing his arm.

Toji had this crazed grin on his face and he was tugging him along impatiently. “What the hell are you-” Sukuna’s words die in his throat as he gazes upon what had Toji so excited. It was his beautiful neighbor changing in front of her mirror again except, there was a big problem. She had never been completely naked before.

Holy shit, her body could stop a truck. Sukuna let his jaw drop. His eyes raked her from her breasts to her legs. She would turn around occasionally, walk back and forth in front of the window, oh he loved the way her tits bounced. He wanted her on top of him, his dick sliding in and out of her while he latched onto her nipple.

“She’s sexy as fuck, huh?” Sukuna’s unceremoniously snapped out of his trance by Toji’s comment. He turns his head towards him looking at his smile and twinkling eyes. “She do this all the time? Does she even know?” Toji gasps and looks him in the eye. “Does she do it on purpose?”

I’m that moment, a switch had flipped inside of Sukuna. Toji was watching her before he brought him in here. He saw her naked first. He shouldn’t have seen her at all. The warm swarm of butterflies in his abdomen had fluttered away, a feeling of rage building in his heart instead. She was Sukuna’s to look at, not Toji’s.

To answer his question, Sukuna shrugs. Then, they both turn towards her again only to make eye contact with her. They see her gasp, cover herself and shriek before running from the window. “Fuck,” they say in unison before shutting the curtain.

“I blame you for that,” Toji says despite both of them being at fault. He puts his hands in his pockets and walks out of the room. “Where’s the blunt?”

Toji may have forgotten about that little encounter, but Sukuna doesn’t think he can forget anytime soon. He hates that Toji got to see her like that. They still haven’t spoken more than once to each other, and now she knows he’s a pervert that stares at her through their windows. Sukuna scowls at the ground then slams his hand into the wall. She’ll leave soon just like the last one did, but this time, he doesn’t want to accept that as a possibility.

He gives himself time to calm down before joining Toji again. He can’t bring work home again.

It was over.

He saw her once after that incident. Waiting for Toji to pick him up for the night, he stood outside the local gas station smoking a cigarette. She’d been on his mind since. She invested in curtains, unfortunately. She was really uncomfortable. He’s not even sure if she’s left the apartment.

Thinking about what happened made him furious. If Toji hadn’t gone into his room he would have never seen her. Oh he just can’t shut the hell up about the shape of her ass and how he would let her suffocate him with her gorgeous thighs. Sukuna sighed, her thighs were gorgeous weren’t they?

She was a missed opportunity. There are so many ways he could have started something with her. It’s not like she didn’t like him, had they met again before that, he’s sure he could have gotten her number. Usually, missing out on a woman wasn’t that bothersome, but she was different for him. He looked forward to beating his dick under the windowsill while she tried on clothes. His imagination wasn’t bad, but by the time he came in his hands, his dick was red and sore and his arm was tired.

His memory is not enough. He wants her.

He looks at the time on his watch. A quarter ‘til midnight. He rolls his eyes. Toji’s always late. A quick snack is in order.

Sukuna mindlessly stares at the powdered donuts wondering if he really feels like fucking up his clothes and having dirty fingers. He hates club bathrooms, the one here is just as bad, and he doesn’t want to lick his fingers. Maybe he won’t. But right before he decides to leave, the door opens. He turns his head upon hearing the small ring of a bell, but doesn’t pay attention to the culprit until they’re in the same aisle. “Oh shit,” he said before he could stop himself.

He tries to look away before she notices, but it’s too late. He looks back at her and grimaces. The girl is shaken to her core. Poor thing is afraid. And while Sukuna feels a bit bad about making such a cutie so frightened, it kind of…warms his heart. She takes in a deep breath and twists back around. She doesn’t even buy anything. She just leaves.

He almost chases her. He stands in the aisle still reveling in her presence. He breathes deeply thinking about how nice it felt to have such power over someone. Hm.

Sukuna leaves the store only a few moments after her. Toji’s BMW was running next to a pump as he got out of the car. “Oh shit, there you are.” He grins. “Guess who I just saw.”

“I know. She was running from me.” Sukuna says, getting into the passenger seat.

Toji cackles while driving away. “Damn, so she’s scared of us, huh?” Sukuna shrugs. “She looked like it. Girl was huffing it. Actually…she ran down the street towards where we’re going.”

Sukuna raises a brow at him. Toji doesn’t say anything and just keeps smiling. “So?”

He turns on his beamers and slows down as he drives between the apartment buildings. Sukuna’s eyes widen as he realizes just what Toji’s trying to do. And soon his lips follow. Just up ahead was a figure with a hoodie walking very quickly. They turn around and immediately shield their eyes from the bright lights. It was her.

She seemed confused at first, and the bright light contrasted with the darkness of the night blinded her from seeing who was in the car. However, she didn’t stop walking or slow down. She decided to mind her business instead. It could be anyone. Anyone. Even though it was the same car waiting at the gas station.

Despite her telling herself that she’s okay, she couldn’t help but notice how they were matching her speed. And that once they had gotten right behind her, the window was rolled down. And that she still had a block left to go.

“Ay,” Sukuna shouted from behind her, effectively terrifying her. She turned to see his smile and upon further investigation, she saw Toji’s from the driver’s seat. Oh no. “You can’t say hi? You scared of me?” He taunts.

She ran.

And that was the worst thing she could have done.

There have been a few recent instances that made her question her move to this city. She was hoping to start a new life, away from her family, away from her ex, make some new friends; she didn’t think she would be planning to move out after a couple months.

That man…she didn’t know what the hell his problem was. Why did he and his friend follow her out of the gas station? Was he crazy? Did she do something to him? Since they followed her, she’s been racking her mind trying to figure out what the hell she did to deserve this. Before that, she had only ever spoken to him once at the grocery store. He was extremely intimidating, but she was intrigued by him. She didn’t mean to stare, but he was very attractive. Clearly he had seen it as some sort of invitation. Maybe he followed her into that aisle and it wasn’t just an act of kindness.

Coming home after work had become so much more nerve wracking. In fact, coming out of her unit brings her horrible anxiety. She’s constantly looking over her shoulder. Tries to pretend the building across doesn’t even exist. She doesn’t understand what took her so long to get curtains; it just wasn’t a priority for her. Either way, she didn’t deserve to be punished for her forgetfulness.

She’s in a weird position where the longer she goes without seeing him, the more worried she becomes even though she never wants to see him or his friend again. Currently, she was in the elevator heading up to her apartment. She was catching her breath and trying to relax now that she was safe. She does this everyday now.

She couldn’t wait to be home. The entire day she’s been feeling like complete crap. Her heart refused to leave her stomach. She dropped so many cups behind the bar that she spent more time sweeping and wiping up drinks than making them. And she was on the verge of tears the entire time. It was nice to be home, but she wondered how bad it would be tomorrow.

In fact, it was so bad today that although she was physically relaxed, her brain just wouldn’t be quiet. It kept telling her to stay alert, that there was still something waiting for her. She tried her best to ignore it and enjoy her night. She was going to kick off her shoes, rip off all her clothes, warm up her leftovers and hit her bong. She was off tomorrow and she is not planning on leaving her room at all.

She messed with her keys when she approached her door. All the apartments had two locks, a deadlock and a lock on the handle, but she was looking for another that she could attach herself. The home goods store near her didn’t have any promising ones, so she had to wait on a shipment.

She reached for the handle to unlock it. Her hand twisted the lever and she retracted it immediately. Her heart starts racing once more, but then she realizes the door was still closed. When she can’t get the door open, she sighs in relief. The deadlock was still intact and locked. The apartments are just shitty.

As relieved as she was in that moment, this just meant she had another problem to deal with. She couldn’t go with one of her locks not working, especially not the handle. In fact, maybe she’ll deal with it tonight. She does have tools and she can be pretty handy when she needs to be.

Like she wanted to, she kicks off her shoes and rips off her jacket. She almost takes off her clothes before she notices a certain smell in the air. Her apartment smelled of weed, but it smelled like someone was actively smoking right at that moment. Maybe it was her next door neighbor.

She walks through her silent home. Maybe she should get a cat. There are quite a few friendly strays around. She could afford-

What was that noise?

A bump. In her bedroom.

What could it have been? Had her worst fears come true?

No. It’s not possible…so why had that sinking feeling returned in full force? There was nothing in her room. There was no one in her room…

Toji had broken the lock for him. 'Just record it for me,' was his end of the bargain.

The place was just as cute as he thought it was. She still had a lot of things unpacked, and she hadn’t gotten a couch for the living room. Hm. He wonders if she really is planning on leaving. That would not be good.

He would want her to stay, but if she can get away from him, at least he’ll get a taste of her.

She leaves her weed out. Hm…he would enjoy this better if he were high. And he’ll make her smoke too.

When he heard her coming closer to her room, he put the bong down and stood up. Her room was small and it was pitch black, the only light coming from the embers in the bowl. He hit her closet door and she heard it. Fuck. He hopes she doesn’t get a weapon out.

And she didn’t. This girl is…something else.

He hides right behind the door in between the wall and the hinges. Then, he waited quietly and patiently until she slowly opened the door and turned on the light. And before she could try to look around, he slammed the door shut behind her.

It all happened in a second.

She heard the door slam and time froze. She told herself then and there, that she was going to die tonight. She knew who her killer would be before she turned around. Did she even want to?

She didn’t have a choice, her body reacted before she could think. All she saw was a small scowl, he had brown eyes, but they looked tainted with blood. His hands, his large hands, shot towards her head and before she could scream he trapped her mouth shut. His other hand gripped the back of her head.

She fought him as violently as she could. She scratched his face, pulled his hair, tried to poke him in the eyes; but he was quick to show her that he was much stronger than her. He pulls his hand off of her mouth and smacks her across the face. She can only scream for a second before his hand is back on her mouth and he pushes her into the bed.

Sukuna takes his hand off of the back of her head and squeezes her neck. He still holds her mouth shut. She gets weaker and weaker as the oxygen leaves her brain. He leans down towards her face to speak to her. “You want to live?”

Tears had long been streaming down her face, but this is the point where she finally breaks down wailing. She lets her arms fall and Sukuna loosens his grip on her neck. But only slightly. She takes a deep breath and cries into his hand. “Answer me,” he says. “Come on, pretty girl.”

She cries a bit more before nodding her head in defeat. “I know. You’re gonna do what I say?”

She nods again. “You’re not gonna scream when I take my hand off?” She sniffles and sobs again. “Because you want to fucking live, right? Right?” He tightens his grip on her neck again. She kicks her feet and nods as best as she can. “Go turn off your light and turn on your lamp. You’re gonna smoke with me.”

He gets off her and watches her to make sure she does what he asks. It takes her a minute, she lays there quietly sobbing and wiping her tears while Sukuna takes another hit of her bong, but eventually she gets up to turn on her lamp, then flip her light switch. “Lock the door too. I like the feeling of extra privacy when I’m taking a woman to bed.”

He disgusts her.

He forces her to take several long hits that had her in horrible coughing fits. And of course, it wasn’t long before she was completely inebriated. She couldn’t really move too much, or think too much. But even though she was out of commission, she could hear every word Sukuna said to her.

He talked her ear off about how he’d been looking at her for a week before they met at the grocery store. All the way up until she realized just how exposed she was from catching him and his friend staring. It was her fault, is what he said. He said she was stupid to not think anyone could see her. She should have gotten blinds or curtains when she moved in. A fucking dumbass bitch.

That’s how she felt.

He taunted her as he watched her take her clothes off. His dick was already in his hand, he had been hard for a while. Imagining his dick finally pounding into her as he squeezes the life out of her.

‘I think you wanted someone to watch you,’ he said to her. She hung onto every word he said, answered every question he had. ‘You’re an attention seeking slut, aren’t you? Nod your head.’ And she did. ‘What’s your name?’ And she told him. ‘Take that shit off faster and come hit this again.’

She was completely out of it, but instead of floating, she sank. She sunk deeper into the bedsheets, Sukuna weighing her down with every word. Every stroke of his hand on her thigh, every lick on her neck and collarbone, every bite on her chest. When he reached down between her legs and stroked her clit, she moaned, then cried in shame.

“Shhhh,” he whispered in her ear from behind her. “You’re gonna love me. And if you’re good I won’t hurt you.” He kisses her ear, then nibbles on it. He leaves a trail of wet kisses down the side of her neck. She cries and shakes, twisting her head away from him as best as she could. Sukuna’s hands explore her body eagerly. He can’t decide whether he wants to grip her hips or play with her nipples. She was so soft, just as he imagined.

He flips her onto her back. “Look at me, baby.” She opens her eyes only slightly, her tears blurring her vision completely before falling. He takes his hand to cup her cheek and wipe them with his thumb. As she gazed upon his naked body on top of hers, she accepts her fate: this man was going to rape then kill her.

He looked deranged. His brows were knit together with a lopsided grin. Her body is racked with sobs once more. “It’s okay,” he tells her. “Shhhh.” He slowly brings his thumb wet with salty tears to her mouth. She tries to pull her head away, but he quickly attaches his hands back to her mouth and head then he leans down towards her. “I thought you said you wanted to live.”

She’s actually not sure at this point. Does she want to live with this trauma? Does she want to continue being this man’s neighbor for him to torture however he sees fit? Does she want to have to look at his building every single day living in fear that he’ll do it again? Living in fear of his friend getting any bright ideas?

“Just relax.” He lets go of her head and goes for her neck. She moans as he bites and sucks on it, making sure to leave a mark reminding her of what he did. It won’t be the only one.

Sukuna slowly takes his hands and lifts both of her legs in the air. He licks his fingers while looking at her, then bites his lip as he plays with her clit once more. She breathes harder and harder with every rub. They don’t break eye contact, it does something to him. He’s reveling in her fear. Her eyes were shot, her mascara and eyeliner running down her face. It made her look even more beautiful. She was making him feral.

Sukuna’s dick was an angry scarlet and dripped precum all over her leg where it rested. He was big and it scared her even more. As his eyes explored her body, he got hungrier and hungrier. He slides a finger inside of her and starts pumping. Her pussy was slick with her arousal.

“Fuck,” he whispered putting in another finger. He pumped his fingers hard enough to make her wetness splash. She threw her head back and arched her chest into the air. She sounded just as sweet as he thought she would. She was turning out to be everything he wanted and more. He wasn’t waiting any longer.

He yanked his fingers out of her and searched her bedside table for his camcorder. She whined when he removed himself from her and watched him. Sukuna pressed record.

“Say hi to Toji,” he told her, sticking the lens in her face. She closes her eyes and tries to avoid the camera. He grips her chin with his fingers and forces her head forward. “Ain’t she pretty?” Sukuna pulls away from her face to record her body. He takes her tit in his hand to play with. He jiggles and pulls on her nipple before smacking it. When she squealed he did it again.

“He’s gonna love watching me fuck the shit out of you.” Sukuna sat and balanced the recorder on her nightstand perfectly angled to show their torsos and hips. He gets back on the bed to grab her waist and pull her towards his. He groaned when he felt his dick rub against her pussy. “You know who I’m talking about, right? My friend? You know he saw you before I did.”

He pauses to spit into his hand and starts jerking his throbbing shaft. “I wanted to kill that fucker.” Sukuna leans over once more and kisses her several times before capturing her lips in one long and forceful kiss. He rubs his dick against her entrance as he does this, with a desperate moan from both of them to accompany it. Sukuna rests his forehead against hers. “Tell me you’re mine.” His eyes are fiery, and she doesn’t wish to find out what will happen if she fails to do what he asks.

His tip begins to poke through her entrance. She whimpers and he brings his head down and bites her lip. “Come on…”

“I’m yours-” He finally starts tucking his dick into her. The feeling of being inside her was heaven on Earth. He wasn’t ashamed of how loudly he moaned. She was louder anyway. They always are. Even when they don’t want it.

“My name is Sukuna.” She takes all of him like a fucking champ. And looks good as fuck while doing it. And her voice…

“I’m yours, Sukuna.”

A tear ran down her cheek. The dragging of his dick against her walls was nothing like she’s ever felt before. It felt so good, but she was the unhappiest she’d ever been. She’s terrified and unsure if she’ll live to see tomorrow. He says he won’t kill her if she’s good, but what does good even mean to him?

She knows there’s nothing she really could have done to avoid what was currently happening to her. This man- no, Sukuna, saw her when she was first moved in and decided then and there that he wanted to rape her. No matter what he claims about her being rude and ignoring him when he helped her. And yet, she blames herself.

If she had just gotten curtains or blinds early enough, then maybe she could have avoided him. Or maybe she wouldn’t have existed to him at all. At least he wouldn’t have known what floor she was on or her room. Maybe he wouldn’t have known what building she was in.

She was so fucking stupid.

He repeated that all night.

‘Stupid fucking bitch,’ he would mutter under his breath. ‘Changing in front of a window, thinking no one’s gonna see you? Posing in mirrors and shit?’ He fucked her at a smooth and steady rythym, she was soaking wet and splashing all over his stubble. The sheets were damp underneath. ‘Oh yeah. You like it when I talk to you like that?’ She couldn’t stop herself from crying in humiliation.

He asked her to cry louder for ‘Toji’, which she did, and he proceeded to smack her across the face for being too loud.

He felt amazing, he pushed her legs into her chest and hammered into her. She cried into his mouth as she came all over him. Her pussy squeezing his member drive him insane and before he knew it he was cumming inside her. ‘Fuck…’ He pulled out and jerked the rest of his cum onto her pussy and thighs. He quickly grabbed the camera to show Toji, with the flash on.

‘Look at that shit,’ Sukuna made sure to examine her at every angle. He pushed his finger into her and chuckled when she moaned. His index was covered with his cum and he brought it and the camera up to her body and face.

She was completely tired out. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak, she could barely even lift her eyelids. Sukuna kissed at her like a dog, then maneuvered the camera to her face. Her face was soaked with tears and spit. Her makeup had smudged everywhere and ran down her cheeks. Her hair was a mess, and she ached everywhere.

Her mouth hung open and Sukuna proceeded to jam his finger into it. He used it to pull her head back over to him and made out with her. Then, his dick started poking her ass.

She had no idea what time last night they were finally done, talk less of when she actually fell asleep. He smoked a blunt after the whole thing, sat her up so he could make her smoke too. He found her liquor cabinet. The night got worse.

She puked her guts out then fell asleep on the floor, but now she was in her bed trapped underneath him. They were both naked. She was sore as the day was long. He snores next to her. Holy fucking hell. She’s alive. Why is she alive?

She starts breathing heavily and looking around her room. She doesn’t know what to do. She didn’t think she would still be here.

In a flash, he’s up. His hand is over her mouth, and his eyes are staring into hers. He has a poker face. She shakes in his clutches and her eyes fill with tears already. “Relax. Listen to me. I know what you’re planning.”

What? What is he- “I dare you to fucking try and move away from me. I will follow you and ruin your life.”

“You said you were mine last night? Then you’re mine. You’ll do what I say, and I’ll do as I please with you. Do you understand?”

All she could do was nod. What could she say? She was planning on moving despite not having the money for it. She would have to save up. And now that he’s shown her what he’s capable of, why would she take the risk?

Why is this happening to her? What did she do to deserve this? Want a better life for herself?

Sukuna was pleased with how the morning was going.

She was sitting on a stool in her dining room watching him make them breakfast with an ice pack on her face and a blanket over her body. She didn’t know what to think.

Suddenly, he perks up and turns towards her. “You got a phone, pretty?”

She could throw up again. She swallows and points towards the hall . “My room,” her voice was hoarse and weak. “On the other side of the bed.”

He pauses and blinks at her. She gets scared again wondering what she did wrong this time. He turns the heat off. “You’re coming with me.”

Toji answers in a flash. “So, how was it?”

“You’re gonna like what you see.” He turns towards where she’s sitting on the bed. “Isn’t that right?” She’s not amused.

“Are you…are you with the bitch right now?” Toji asks.

“Yeah,” Sukuna makes his voice dreamy. “We’re going steady.”

ending a/n: Please lmk what you think ! Thank you for reading !

Masterlist

W E L C O M E P A G E

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader smut #sukuna x reader #dark content #very dark #be warned it’s dark #toji fushiguro #toji

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hoshifighting · 1 month ago

Text

stripper!reader x stripper!mingyu

— where you join forces with your coworker, mingyu, to make this saturday's client night the absolute best!

WARNINGS: +18, smut, stripper club setting, pussy eating, penetrative sex, protected sex, public teasing, mentions of money.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

the bass is so loud, it’s vibrating through your bones. you can feel it under your fingertips as you grip the pole, spinning lazily around, letting your body arch and twist under the spotlight like it’s nothing. just another night, just another shift.

the stage lights glint off the tiny pearls on your matching set, each one catching the neon pinks and blues cutting through the dark, practically blinding in how they flash against your skin. your whole body sparkles, glitter dusting your cheeks, eyelids shimmering every time you blink.

out of the corner of your eye, you catch mingyu, all perfect muscle and stupidly sharp jawline, doing his thing with some woman who’s gotta be pushing forty, maybe fifty. she’s bold, though, slipping a stack of bills down his waistband like she’s done this before. the whole time, mingyu’s eyes are locked on you, a smirk teasing at his lips as he grinds just close enough to make her blush. cocky.

mingyu’s staring at you the whole time, like she isn’t even there, like you’re the one giving him the damn lap dance. you don’t break eye contact as you slide to the floor, your knees hitting the stage with a thud that only you can feel. the pearls on your top catch the light, sparkling like something priceless, and you know you look like a fucking dream.

the girl sitting by the stage is young, too shy to even meet your eyes, but she’s holding a wad of cash tight in her fingers, like she’s not sure what to do with it.

“go on, sweetheart,” you purr, voice low as you push up onto your knees, rolling your shoulders as you arch your back, eyes flicking over her face. “don’t be shy.”

her cheeks flush and, after a second of hesitation, she slides a couple of hundred-dollar bills onto the stage, her fingers trembling like she’s never seen a naked body before in her life. cute.

you pick up the notes, your fingers curling around them before tucking them into the side of your panties with a grin, giving her a wink as you rise back to your feet. the guy with her, maybe her boyfriend, watches the whole thing with his mouth open, but you barely even glance his way. nah, this is all for her.

you sway your hips as you walk over to her, slow, teasing, circling her like you’re a predator and she’s the prey. the dude next to her—the boyfriend? the sugar daddy? who fucking knows—he’s watching you too, but his attention’s mostly on her, like he’s getting off on her reaction more than yours. you pause, letting your fingers brush against her knee before leaning in closer, your lips ghosting over her ear as you whisper, “enjoy the show sweetheart...”

she stutters, barely able to form a response, and you laugh softly, the sound low and sultry. then, just like that, you’re gone, turning on your heel to head back to the stage, looking over your shoulder with a smirk, your body still moving with the music.

show’s over.

hours later, when the shift finally winds down, your legs feel like jelly and your head’s buzzing from the lights and the constant movement. you’re wiping the last bit of sweat from your brow when mingyu shows up, two glasses of juice in hand and that familiar, smug grin plastered on his face. he’s already thrown on a pair of sweats, but his chest is still bare, glistening under the faint glow of the backstage lights.

“house’s favorite girl,” he teases, draping a fluffy robe over your shoulders like the gentleman he pretends to be. “how’s your night been, superstar?”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile tugging at your lips as you take the juice from him, downing half the glass in one go. “same shit, different night. made some bank though, so i ain’t complaining. had a cute little thing at the front, though. she couldn’t even look me in the eye.”

mingyu chuckles, taking a sip of his juice. “yeah? she the one with the hundred-dollar nerves? you were working her real good.”

“you saw that?” you raise an eyebrow, smirking. “course you did. you couldn’t stop staring.”

“what can i say? hard not to when you’re putting on a fucking show.” his voice drops, and you know he’s baiting you, but you bite anyway.

“oh, come on,” he says, nudging you playfully with his elbow. “you know you love watching me work.”

“nah,” you laugh, stepping away from him, heading towards the dressing room. “i just love how easy you are to distract. that poor woman had no idea where your head was at.”

he laughs, loud and easy, following you as you both make your way out. “yeah, well, you’re lucky i’m so damn good at multitasking.”

“whatever helps you sleep at night, gyu,” you call over your shoulder, the two of you stepping into the cool night air.

he shakes his head, still grinning, as he throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “you know, you should be thanking me,” he says, voice playful but with that edge that makes you wonder if he’s serious. “i keep the lights on in that place. without me, you’d be broke.”

you shoot him a sideways glance, smirking. “oh, please. i’m the one keeping those lonely boys coming back for more. without me, you’d be giving free dances just to keep your ego in check.”

mingyu laughs again, and you find yourself laughing with him, the two of you walking side by side under the neon lights of the city, ready to do it all again tomorrow.

[...]

you remember when mingyu first stumbled into the club—eyes wide and innocent, asking if the house was hiring. the poor kid looked like he’d never stepped foot in a place like this before, lost in the velvet and gold that dripped from every corner of the club. you’d been the one to take him under your wing, showing him the ropes, giving him pointers. hell, you even helped him pick out his first set of dance clothes, some cheap shit he was embarrassed to wear, but you told him it wasn’t about the clothes. “it’s about confidence,” you’d said, watching him stumble through his first routine like a newborn fawn, all limbs and nerves.

there was that one night—maybe a year in—when he messed up a private dance, almost spilling a drink on a client’s lap. you’d swooped in, smooth, flashing that grin that always made the rich ones open their wallets. you saved his ass, pulling him out of the situation, and afterward, in the break room, he looked at you like you were some kind of goddess. from then on, he stuck to you like glue, and over time, he became just as polished, just as skilled, and just as much a favorite as you were.

now, years later, it’s saturday night, and the club’s packed with the usual crowd. high rollers, rich assholes with more money than they know what to do with. and there’s mingyu, standing behind you in the dressing room, his big hands buttoning up your rhinestone-covered bra. it’s your good set, the one that always makes the cash pile up a little faster. he’s seen your tits a hundred times at this point—everyone’s seen everyone’s in here, with all the changing and rushing—but it’s different with him. you can feel the way he keeps his eyes guarded when he’s fastening the hooks—respect endless. how he glances in the mirror just to make sure the fit is perfect, your chest looking a little perkier under the sparkling stones, but just that.

you finish your makeup without missing a beat, and then you turn around, there’s a small smile playing on your lips as you grab your brush and start dusting highlighter across his chest, his shoulders, those stupidly defined abs. his muscles twitch when the brush drags over them, and you feel the slight tremor in his breath. he looks away, embarrassed, but you catch the way his lips twitch up just a little, like he can’t help but smile, too.

“hold still, gyu,” you murmur, voice teasing as you brush the glittering powder along the curve of his bicep. “can’t have you going out there looking anything less than perfect, right?”

he chuckles, nervous, and there’s that tension again. it’s always there, buzzing under the surface, but you both ignore it.

the club is packed. you’re up next, and mingyu’s already on stage, doing his usual routine, charming the hell out of everyone like he always does. but something’s different tonight. maybe it’s the way the lights hit just right, or maybe it’s the way he looks at you from across the room, like he’s seeing you in a way he hasn’t before.

your heels click against the stage, your eyes locked on mingyu as the public hums around you. you brush your hands down your body, fingers trailing over the rhinestones of your bra, your stomach, and then your hips. he’s walking toward you too, matching your pace, the same heat in his gaze. when you’re close enough to feel his breath mingle with yours, he cocks his head, voice low.

“what are you doing?” his tone is playful, but there’s an edge to it, like he knows this is different.

you scoff, leaning in just enough for your breath to ghost across his lips. “you ready to make some cash tonight?”

his eyebrow lifts in that cocky way he always does, but the smirk dies when your hands slide from his chest, down his abs, fingers grazing the sharp lines of his muscles. his breath hitches when you hit his thighs, your knees bending as you dance your way down, rolling your hips to the beat. your eyes never leave his, catching every tiny reaction as the music pulses around you.

he hears the crowd, feels the weight of all those eyes on the two of you, but they don’t matter. not really. not when it’s you and him, moving together like you’ve done this a hundred times, even though you haven’t.

as you rise again, your body sways back, your ass pressing into him, your hips grinding against his in time with the rhythm. his hands twitch at his sides, but it doesn’t take long before his fingers finally meet your waist, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you flush against him. the heat of his body, the tight press of his hips making you shiver.

the crowd’s getting thicker now, more people drawn in, whispering about the two favorites dancing together. it’s a special night, and they know it.

“you’re full of surprises tonight,” he murmurs, lips brushing against your ear, barely touching, but enough to make your skin tingle.

“oh, you haven’t seen anything yet,” you purr, a teasing lilt in your voice as you sway your hips, feeling his hands tighten on you, fingers digging into your skin just enough to make you bite your lip.

the crowd’s buzzing now, louder than before, even some of the employees have stopped to watch, their eyes glued to the two of you, wondering where this is going. as you two drown in your own world. the music pulses through your bodies, and it’s just you, him, and the tension that’s been simmering for way too long.

your lips brush against his, so close but never touching, teasing him, teasing the crowd. you can feel his frustration, the way he wants to close the gap, to finally taste you, but you hold back, keeping him on edge. he chuckles, his hands roaming lower, pressing into the small of your back as his hips grind harder into yours. the crowd’s roaring now, fully invested in the performance, but all that matters is him.

your lips hover just out of reach, the dance turning into something more, something bolder, he leans in, lips brushing yours again, but you pull back just enough to keep him guessing, that playful grin on your face as you whisper, “you really think you can keep up with me?”

his eyes flash more intense, and he smirks, challenging. “i can do a lot more than keep up.”

the money practically rains down around you, the sound of bills hitting the floor like music in its own right. you and mingyu catch each other’s gaze, eyes gleaming with the sight of it—stacks of cash, pooling at your feet, your reward for the tease you both just put on. mingyu moves fast, his hands gripping your thighs as he picks you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. the sharp point of your high heels digs into his lower back, and the sensation makes his breath hitch.

your hand slides to the back of his neck, fingers curling into his skin as he holds you close, his grip on your waist tight and possessive. you arch your back, your hair falling back like a waterfall, and he’s mesmerized for a second, the notes still floating in the air around you both. you know he loves this—the way you move, the way you own every second on that stage. he’s addicted to it, and you feel it in the way his hands pull you tighter against him, the way he can’t let go.

together, you step off the stage, leaving behind the frenzy, the crowd’s imaginations running wild with what might happen next. but they wouldn’t see it. this part? this was just for you and mingyu.

he pushes through the dressing room door, locking it behind him with a quick flick of his wrist before pressing you against the hard wood. his lips are on yours in an instant, desperate, rough, tongue sliding against yours like he’s been waiting for this all night—or a lifetime. his fingers fumble with the clasp of your bra, undoing it with a swift pull, while your hands work on his belt, both of you too impatient to slow down.

“fuck, you really had to tease me like that?” he breathes against your lips, hands yanking your bra off, tossing it to the side without care. “you know i can’t keep my hands off you when you look like that.”

“you gonna do something about it?” you challenge, taunting, fingers finally pulling his belt free, your hand dipping lower.

but he’s already got you spun around, pushing you down onto the velvet divan, his lips trailing hot kisses down your neck before latching onto your tits, sucking, biting the buds just enough to make you gasp. your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as he moves lower.

“gonna do more than ‘something,’” he growls, hands gripping your panties and yanking them down, the fabric sliding off easily, leaving your pussy bare under his gaze. his breath is heavy, eyes shady as he kneels down, slinging your legs over his shoulders. your high heels rest on his broad shoulders, the sharp stilettos digging in just enough to make him groan low in his throat.

“god, you’re so soaked already, panties almost didn't hold it” he mutters, as his fingers part your folds, watching the slick gather. without warning, he spits on your pussy, the wetness mixing with your own, dripping down before he catches it with his tongue. his mouth seals around your clit, sucking hard, his tongue swirling as your back arches off the divan, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips.

“fuck, gyu, so good, baby boy” you gasp, your hand fisting in his hair, pulling him closer as he devours you. his tongue works expertly, flicking and circling your clit, as if the nickname made his body work more. you can hardly keep your eyes open, the feeling too much as he continues, relentless, sucking and licking like he’s starving.

he pulls back just enough to growl, “taste so fucking sweet… you know how crazy you make me, right? you’re fuckin’ mine tonight.”

you grip his hair tight, yanking him back just when his mouth is moving too good on you, the sound of his moan vibrating against your skin. you don’t let go, making him look at you, his eyes dark and desperate, like he’s being denied air.

“you gonna be a good boy for me, mingyu?” your voice is a low, sultry tease, breathless but in control. “or are you just gonna sit there, all pathetic and needy, waiting for me to let you fuck me?”

his eyes widen at your words, pupils blown out with lust. “fuck, y/n, please…” he’s already nodding like a man on his knees, begging. “i’ll be good, promise, just—please—”

you smirk, biting your lip as you push yourself up on all fours, your upper body laying across the arm of the divan, head resting lazily like you’ve got all the time in the world. but it’s your back, arching just enough to make him lose his mind, the way your ass is up, fully exposed, skin glistening from the sweat of the night. and when you look over your shoulder at him, your gaze nasty, wild—he swears he almost blacks out.

mingyu stumbles back, rushing around the dressing room like a madman, eyes darting everywhere as he hunts for a condom. he’s moving so fast, he nearly trips over his own pants as he kicks them off, his boxers joining them in a heap on the floor. “shit, fuck—where the hell—ah, got it,” he mutters to himself, finally finding one in the drawer.

his hands are almost shaking as he rips the foil with his teeth, pulling the condom out and sliding it on with a frantic desperation, his cock already leaking, hard and throbbing as he fists it once, twice, just to calm down. “fuck, y/n… look at you,” he groans, coming back over, his eyes locked on the curve of your ass, the way your pussy’s practically dripping for him.

you don’t say anything at first, just watching him through half-lidded eyes, biting your lip. you spread your legs wider, teasing him, showing off just how slick you are, the wetness glistening under the dim light. “you gonna keep staring, or are you gonna put that dick to work?”

he’s on you in a heartbeat, one hand gripping your waist, the other guiding his cock to your entrance. you feel the tip press against your folds, and it’s hot, thick, pushing just enough to make your breath hitch.

“you feel that?” his voice is rough. “feel how fucking hard you make me?”

“shut up and fuck me,” you spit, pushing back against him, making the head of his cock sink in just a little. “you’re too slow, mingyu, don’t make me wait.”

he doesn’t need more than that. with one strong thrust, he’s buried inside you, his cock stretching you wide, the feeling so intense that you can’t help but let out a sharp moan, fingers clawing at the arm of the divan. he’s big, filling you up so deep that it almost hurts, but fuck, it feels so good. he groans so whiny that doesn't even fits him.

“so fucking tight,” he pants, his hips jerking as he starts to move, slow at first, like he’s savoring how you feel around him. “goddamn… i could fuck this pussy for hours.”

you push back, meeting his thrusts with a grind of your own, your ass slapping against his hips with every movement. “yeah? that what you want? to be my little fucktoy? use that big cock of yours until i’m done with you?”

he growls, hands gripping your hips so hard, it’s like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t hold on. “fuck yes,” he grits out between thrusts, his pace picking up, hips snapping into yours harder now, faster. “you want me to be your fucktoy? then use me, baby… use me all you fucking want.”

your pussy clenches tight around him, the wetness making obscene sounds every time he slams into you. the rhythm is perfect, rough, and fast, his cock dragging against that one spot, your fingers curling on the heels. the heat builds between your legs, the slickness coating his length, making it easy for him to fuck you deep, hard.

“shit, mingyu—right there,” you moan, your body arching back into him as you feel the pressure build, every nerve tingling with the intensity of it. “fuck, you’re so good at this… like you were made to fuck me.”

his hips falter for a second at your words, a deep groan ripping from his throat. “god, y/n, you’re gonna fucking kill me… i’m already so close.”

“don’t you fucking dare,” you snarl, throwing a glance over your shoulder, daring him to cum before you. “you’re gonna keep going until i say so, got it?”

he nods frantically, almost whining as he keeps thrusting, his cock twitching inside you, the tension in his body obvious. “yes, fuck—yes, anything, i’ll keep going, baby, just—fuck, you feel so good—”

you can feel the edge coming, the orgasm building deep inside, and you push back even harder, grinding your ass against him, loving the way he’s losing control. “you feel that?” you taunt, voice breathless. “you feel how close i am? you better fucking keep up.”

“fuck—please, please cum for me, y/n… wanna feel you cum on my cock, wanna feel you tighten up around me,” he’s babbling now, barely coherent as he slams into you over and over, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room.

it hits you all at once—the orgasm making you bite your hand, your body convulsing as you scream his name, fingers digging into the divan. your pussy clamps down on his cock, squeezing tight, and that’s all it takes. mingyu lets out a strangled groan, hips stuttering as he finally cums, his body shuddering against yours as he fills the condom, thrusting through the aftershocks, just to satisfy you, until you tell him to stop.

“back to the stage?” he asks.

you scoff, finally laying on the divan. “fuck no baby, my shift ends here tonight.”

“so let me go get our money pretty, we have to bring home the bacon.” he winks, dressing his denim again. you just give him up thumbs.

he walks to the door, but then turns, walking in your direction to give you a kiss, and now he leaves.

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emilys-bangs · 1 month ago

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kisses, kisses, kisses | e.p

Tags: established relationship, pure fluff, mom!emily, no use of yn, use of petnames

Summary: Your daughter doesn't believe Emily kisses her goodbye before work. Emily finds a way to convince her.

Word count: 1.3k

Emily is sitting at her desk, frowning at her computer when the sound of her phone ringing pulls her out of her misery. She grabs it, the scrunch between her brows loosening when she finds your name at the top of the screen, a picture of you and Eloise smiling up at her and causing her to smile in turn as she accepts the call.

“Hi honey—”

“Mommy!”

Emily brightens, instinctively lowering the volume on her phone. “Hi Eloise,” she laughs, her eyes dropping to the time on her laptop. 9:43. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“No.” Her daughter says.

“No?” Emily’s brows furrow. Her heart sinks, her brain already working in overtime to find a way to fix whatever it is that needs fixing. “Why not, chérie? Did you have a bad—”

“Mommy didn’t kiss me goodbye.” Eloise interrupts again, the sulk audible in her voice. Emily can almost imagine her pouted lips, the downward slope of her lashes. In the background, she hears your quiet laugh.

The tightness in her chest eases, and she takes in a quick, relived breath. “I kissed you goodbye, honey, you just didn’t feel it ’cause you were asleep.” Emily placates, her frown overtaken by a soft smile.

“If I didn’t feel it, means you didn’t do it.” Eloise says stubbornly. She’s every inch her mother, even at four and a half.

“Bug, Mommy always kisses you goodbye. I kissed you this morning, cross my heart.” She promises to the silence on the other end of the phone. Eloise stays quiet, her disbelief palpable even from a distance. Emily gently nudges further. “Did you know that if I don’t kiss you goodbye, I have a bad day?”

“But…but didn’t feel it.” She whines. Her voice is dejected, and Emily almost sees the shine to her sad puppy dog eyes.

“It’s because you were tired, honey,” Emily hears you soothe from the other end, your voice distant and soft. “Mommy was being careful not to wake you up.”

“Yeah,” Emily confirms. “Sergio can vouch for me, Eloise.” She says, ignoring the dumbfounded look Morgan throws her way.

“Wha’s that mean?” Eloise grumbles.

Emily chews on her lip to stifle a laugh. It gets trapped in her chest; by the time she gets it under control the silence has stretched on too long, and you answer in her stead.

“It means he can tell you he saw Mommy giving you a kiss.”

Eloise huffs frustratedly. “Sergio can’t talk,” she mumbles.

“I can,” you say, a cheerful tone to your voice as you try to convince your daughter. “I personally saw Mommy kiss you goodbye. She kissed both your little cheeks,”—a giggle sounds through the phone, likely as you pinch said little cheeks—“and your cute forehead.”

“That’s true, Eloise. And you know we don’t lie, right?” Emily says, jiggling her mouse in a zigzag to stop her computer screen from darkening to black. It’s 9:58 now, and she furtively tosses a glance to Hotch’s office window.

The blinds are closed. Good news for her, right?

A low sigh reaches her through the phone. Emily also hears some secretive whispering, the creak of Eloise’s bedsprings and the soft call of Sergio’s attention-seeking meow. Then, “Can I have a kiss now, Mommy?”

The hopefulness in her voice breaks Emily’s heart. She winces, briefly closing her eyes and wishing she was back home with the two of you, instead of in the cold confines of the bullpen.

Nevertheless, she opens her eyes before the silence stretches on, ignoring her teammates as she gives her daughter a kiss through the phone and promises her a real one when she gets home.

___

“Sure you’re going to the BAU, not the club?” You tease as you watch Emily layer on her lipstick. She rolls her eyes and continues to trace it on her lips, careful but firm.

“I’ll wipe some of it off,” she says, capping the lipstick when she’s satisfied.

“Just don’t kiss me with that clown mouth,” you grin as you follow her out of your bedroom and into Eloise’s, the sound of her heels muffled on the carpeted floor.

“I’m only kissing one person right now,” she whispers, not sparing you a glance as she carefully crouches down next to Eloise’s bed, “and it’s not you.” Emily smiles as she brushes away some of Eloise’s bed head away from her forehead, the bangs she’d insisted on getting to match with hers hanging above her eyes. She gently exposes the soft skin of her daughter’s forehead and leans over to kiss it.

Eloise doesn’t stir, even when Emily’s hair falls against her shoulder. She carries on sleeping, her stuffed teddy clutched in her arm as Emily presses another small kiss to her cheek. The faint imprint of her lips is left behind on Eloise’s skin, physical evidence of Emily’s love. She can’t help herself but lean over to kiss the other cheek too, quietly breathing in her daughter for precious few seconds before she stands up.

The sight of Eloise’s small face covered in kisses makes her crack a grin. “Don’t think she can accuse me of anything now, do you?” She asks quietly as she turns to you. Your arms are crossed over your chest, lips pressed together to hide the smile that wants to escape.

You shake your head, pulling her in by her belt loops and steadying her with an arm around her waist when she stumbles.

Emily’s eyes gleam. “Thought you didn’t want to kiss me,” she whispers, a skip in her pulse when your eyes drop to her lips, “with—what did you call it? My clown mouth.”

“Never believe anything I say at 8 in the morning.” You say just as quietly, giving her a peck before you drag her out of Eloise’s bedroom.

___

This time, when her phone rings around the same time as yesterday, Emily anticipates the caller on the other end of the line.

“Hi Mommy!” Eloise chirps when she accepts the call.

“Hi, baby.” The smile is already there across her lips, matching dimples on mother and daughter cheeks that they don’t try to hold back.

“Saw your kisses,” she giggles.

“Did you like them? I told you I never leave without kissing you goodbye.”

“So y’not gonna have a bad day today.”

Emily smiles. “I won’t,” she says, and it sounds like a vow. “Now you’ve seen them, you gotta wipe them off before you go to preschool, alright?”

“Nope!” Eloise says. “I’ll keep ’em.”

“Eloise—”

“Well, that didn’t go as expected,” your voice comes through, amused and clear in Emily’s ear.

She pinches the bridge of her nose, her eyes screwing shut. “Please wipe them off.” She pleads.

“I’ll try. She is your daughter, after all, and we know she didn’t get her stubbornness from me.”

“I’m going with Mommy’s kisses!” Eloise chirps.

“She’s going with Mommy’s kisses,” you repeat solemnly.

“She’s not,” Emily says, but even as she protests, her heart slowly starts to grow warm at the thought of her daughter wanting to keep the proof of her love on her skin. Wanting to keep her with her, in any small way she can. “Promise me, babe.”

Finally, she gets both you and Eloise to promise to wipe the lipstick off—in exchange for more kisses after work. Emily’s shoulders are light as she hangs up the phone, her wide smile growing wider when a message notification pings and she opens up her messages to find a picture of Eloise, happily posing with an impressive bed head, rumpled pajamas, and pink kisses dotting her face.

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu @ashluvscaterina

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss fics #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss drabble #emily prentiss blurb #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #mom!emily #momily #fic

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ellastone-olsen · 10 months ago

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hihihihi idk if youre accepting requests or not but if you are:

can you please do stripper!wanda x innocent!reader where reader's friend drags her to a nearby strip club to blow off steam. and reader is really innocent and is just sitting in the chair, slightly confused while watching the dancers do their thing on the pole. and reader is unknowingly eyeing one certain stripper (wanda) and wanda notices and comes over to reader. and reader's friend is teasing reader and telling wanda to give reader a lap dance when she comes over. and then wanda brings reader to like one of the private rooms in the back and like reader is realy inexperienced and awkward and tense. and then wandas there to like talk reader through it and reader's like REALLLY shy. okay woah thats a lot thank youuuuu take your time 💝

The art of eye contact - Wanda Maximoff

★Pairing: stripper!Wanda Maximoff x innocent!f!reader

Summary: your friend drags you to a strip club, what could happen there to such an innocent little thing like you?

★Warnings: little NSFW 18+, lap dance, grinding, pet names, a little fluff (sorry I can’t without fluff)

★Word count: 1.5k

★AN: hi anon! In general, my requests are closed, but I found this very interesting, so here we are. there was nothing about 18+ in the request and I decided to remove this part (well, almost). hope you’ll like it

The loud music and shining lights of the club were blinding as you sat shyly in your seat and looked somewhere at the floor. There was a can of soda on the table nearby. The people around are mostly men, but your eye notices some women who also came to watch the show. And only one question: what the hell are you doing here?

“Come on Y/N let’s go, I’ve been there more than once, maybe you’ll like it.” This is exactly what you heard from your friend half an hour ago, when you were sitting in her apartment and just playing online games. You came to her in a terrible mood because of a failed college exam and sought solace in this meeting. In the last couple of weeks, your nerves were on edge and all you need now was to let off steam after a series of failures. “Fucking shit, can’t you see they’re shooting at you!?” You told her angrily as she turned away from the laptop screen without following the game. You definitely needed another way to relax.

Despite your 21, you had never been to this kind of establishment and of all your friends, you were the most innocent person, not knowing what relationships and sex are. "Come on, let's go, don't be so boring." She insisted, "If you don't like it, then I give you permission to hit me." You took off your headphones and sighed. If you think so, then you were curious to visit the strip club. "okay." After that, within 10 minutes you were riding in a taxi to an address unknown to you.

Returning to the present time, you tried not to stare too much at all these people dancing at the poles, the clothes on them were becoming less and less every minute and your cheeks were flushed red. Your friend hit you with her elbow, signaling for you to look (she paid for the entrance and doesn’t want her money to disappear into the floor in which you are ready to make a hole with your gaze). You look up again and look at each dancer in turn until you reach her. To your right is dancing a woman with long red hair, which is pulled back into a messy bun with a shiny clip. Her top was already off, revealing a red fabric bra that did not hide the softness of her breasts. She was still wearing a long skirt that cut out to her hips, so you could see her legs, which seemed to be moving closer to you. Stop why is she coming to you.

While you watched as if under hypnosis, the stranger was already in front of you and grabbed the soda from your hand and put it on the table to put her hands on either side of you on the armrests. Her back arched and she made a small wave, so that her breasts were a few centimeters from your face, it seemed like you were ready to explode from what was happening. Her head tilted, her lips reached your ear so she could shout to you over the noise of the music, “I’m Wanda, nice to meet you.” In your opinion, people usually don’t get to know each other by sticking their almost bare breasts under the noses of strangers, but remember where you were and toss all the questions. In any case, all you did was nod and again direct your gaze somewhere to the side. It seemed that you had turned into a bundle of nerves and embarrassment.

Wanda took this as a sign that she needed to look for another client for the night, but your friend, who had been watching all this time from the side, took the redhead somewhere to the side and seemed to give her a bill and instructions on what to do.

"Where have you been?" You asked the girl as she approached with a sly grin, noticing how red you were. Why the hell did she bring you here and leave you to your fate? “I have another little gift for you that you’ve been eyeing so eagerly.” Was she teasing you? Defined. “What are you talking about, what kind of gift am I thinking enough for today.” Then your friend stepped aside and showed Wanda standing behind her. The girl leaned over so only you could hear, “I paid, so have fun.” You didn’t immediately understand what exactly she paid for, but Wanda’s sweet smile brought the idea to your brain and your eyes widened.

The redhead gently took your hand in hers and you obeyed (only out of curiosity) and followed her into the private rooms. When the red matte door closed and it became much quieter, you sat on the sofa with your hands on your knees and asked a question. “What exactly she told to do?” One of your knees is bouncing from the fact that you are shaking your leg trying not to be nervous. Your friend has already explained to the redhead what an innocent little thing you are, so the woman decided to first ask permission for some actions.

"She ordered a lap dance, but you're such a sweet girl that I was willing to do it for free just for you." She came up to you again and leaned in, so close that her breath was on your neck and you could smell the scent of her cherry perfume. “Can I sit on your lap honey?” Her soft sexy whisper drove you crazy and you squeaked in agreement. Immediately you felt the weight of her body on you, how her long legs in stockings wrapped around you and your core began to pulsate just from this. "What should I do? I…I never…” Wanda’s hips rocked and her core pressed against your stomach. “Oh I know baby, I can see it right away.” She giggled. “I’m sitting right on top of you, can you tell me your name?” Your head fell back and your hair fell into face, you really didn’t want to seem like what you were, namely the inexperienced mess right under her. “My name is Y/N.” Your hands grabbed the upholstery of the sofa, you didn’t know how to touch her, or whether it was possible at all.

Wanda's hands dropped to yours and placed them on her hips. “That’s it Y/N, you can touch me if you want.” Your head turned towards her and you finally looked into her big green eyes. It was so beautiful that no part of her body interested you as much as this. “Your eyes are so…lovely.” The woman seemed confused at these words. Her clients told her a lot, in particular something about her breasts or ass, but never before had anyone given her a compliment with such trepidation. “Oh, what a cute little thing you are Y/N.” She stood up on your knees, her hands reached for the clasp of her skirt, which she was still wearing, but you stopped her. “No, don't. I mean, you're so beautiful, you don't need to take your clothes off to prove it."

This was the third time you had confused her that night. Of course, your inexperience spoke to you, but you also didn’t want to do something so blatant with her, at least not right now. Although perhaps there was one thing that you wanted to get. “I...can you kiss me? That is, if you don’t want to or it’s forbidden, I don’t insist, but...” Her soft, full lips fell on yours without allowing you to finish, it seems that at these words the woman’s heart sank painfully. Her dark lipstick mixed with your cherry gloss and with every movement of your lips, your hands gripped her soft thighs tighter. “Wanda...” You wanted to ask, but she wasn’t done with you. When there was not enough air, she pulled away and turned her head away. “Sorry, it was not according to regulations.” You didn't understand why she was apologizing.

“No, no, everything is fine, at least... it sounds so stupid but... maybe you would like to get to know each other better and go on a date, for example?” You realized how naive it sounded, asking the girl from the strip club you had just met on a date. Surely everyone who was with her in this room made her such an offer.

Instead of words, the woman got up from you and you thought that the time that your friend had paid for was over, but after a few seconds she handed you a piece of paper with numbers. “Here, this is my number, text me in the morning if you don’t change your mind.” You took the small piece of paper from her hands and carefully placed it under your phone case.

For a minute you were in an awkward ringing silence. “Can I kiss you again?” You asked shyly. Even then, Wanda couldn’t refuse you.

When you left the private room and said goodbye, your friend immediately met you with questions about how everything went. You told her, not knowing that in this evening Wanda did not bring anyone else into the room where you were together.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda fanfic #wandanat #wandanat x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda x you #wanda maximoff smut #wanda x reader #mommy wanda #wanda marvel

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scary-grace · 4 months ago

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blind date (shigaraki x reader)

After endless failed attempts to help Tomura up his game, his friends have settled on their last resort: A blind date. Even before you show up, it's not going well. No quirks AU, 2k words.

this was originally in the x reader lovers community, but I figured I'd release it into the wild as well!

Part 1 Part 2

Part 1

Tomura gets being a little late. “A little late” is practically his middle name. He waits until the last minute to do almost everything, and that means any complications mean he’s running behind. Hypocrisy pisses him off so much that he tries to avoid it all costs, so that means he has to put up with it without bitching when somebody else is a little late, too.

Except half an hour isn’t a just a little late for anything, let alone a blind date Tomura didn’t want to go on in the first place. He’s been waiting outside the bar you were supposed to meet at for half an hour, and he’s pissed.

“That’s it,” he says after the eighteenth time a woman his age has walked past and hasn’t been you, whatever the hell you look like. “I’m out of here.”

“Just a little longer, honey,” Magne says. She’s smiling, but she’s also got her arm around Tomura’s shoulders, and if she squeezes any harder, Tomura’s going to pop like a balloon. “She’ll be here.”

“No, she won’t.” Tomura crosses his arms over his chest, tucking his hands in so nothing will bite them. They’re on the waterfront, in the summer, and there are insects everywhere. Whose dumb idea was this? “You showed her a photo of me and she changed her mind.”

“It’s a blind date,” Magne says. Like Tomura’s supposed to know what that means. “She doesn’t know what you look like, either. That’s why you have to stay right here and keep wearing that baseball hat. Otherwise she won’t know it’s you.”

Tomura hates the hat. Right now he hates everything. “So she got here on time, saw me, and left. Can I go?”

Magne shakes her head. “You promised you’d try.”

“I showed up. I waited for fucking half an hour. I’ve tried.” Tomura finally shoves Magne’s arm off his shoulders. “I’m done.”

Tomura wishes he could say he didn’t know how he got here, except he does. One of his friends is getting married, and there’s supposed to be a wild bachelor weekend in Vegas, one last blast of stupid before settling down. Most of the groomsmen are planning to hook up with as many people as possible, and that’s where the problems start. According to his friends, Tomura has no game. Zero game. Negative one hundred game. If he was rolling for his game stat, it would be a critical failure – and none of his friends want to babysit him when they could be getting laid.

Tomura wouldn’t want to babysit when he could be getting laid, either. His solution was to skip the bachelor weekend and just show up for the wedding in his stupid rented suit. But apparently his friends really want him to come to the party, and they decided that what he needed was to get some practice in before the trip. Which means that for the last month, Tomura’s spent every Friday night and weekend getting dragged through his own personal hell.

They made him try dating apps, which were a disaster, even though Tomura let Toga set up his profile and make the first move. Then they tried traditional online dating, which also sucked, because Tomura’s too picky and other people have standards. Hanging out in bars and clubs worked exactly how it’s always worked – it doesn’t – and when Dabi pulled out the big guns and dragged Tomura to the sex club where he met his fiancé, the only people who talked to Tomura were guys. Tomura thought that was sort of a good sign, even though he’s not into men, until he remembered that guys will fuck anything with a hole in it. He’s not high on himself on his best day, but that was a really shitty night.

He thought they were going to quit after that, but his friends had one last ace up their sleeve – a blind date, Magne’s idea, which Toga enthusiastically signed off on when she saw a picture of the woman Magne wanted to set Tomura up with. Toga’s type and Tomura’s type line up, sort of, and Spinner giving the photo two thumbs way up sealed the deal.

It’s not like Tomura was hopeful or anything. He just wanted to get his friends off his back. Still, rejection sucks, and ghosting sucks worse. He’d rather have you show up and tell him to his face that you weren’t interested than stand him up.

Magne collars Tomura again, but her phone starts ringing at the same time, Toga’s contact info popping up. “Don’t go anywhere,” she warns Tomura as she raises the phone to her ear. “We’re here. She’s not here yet. Can you tell him –”

Tomura ducks out from under her arm and books it into the crowd of people on the waterfront, figuring he can make it to the metro stop before Magne figures out which way he’s going. But even that can’t go his way today, because he runs into somebody who’s moving at warp speed in the opposite direction, colliding at the shoulder hard enough to make him stagger. Tomura’s not confrontational, but it’s the wrong fucking day. “Can you watch where you’re going? It’s not like you matter to whoever you’re going to –”

“Are you Tomura?”

Tomura’s heart lurches. He stares hard at you as you right yourself, picking up the backpack you dropped in the collision. There’s no way this is happening. There’s no universe in which his blind date would be someone like you.

He can see right away why Toga and Spinner approved of you, but he thought you’d be someone in his league, not somebody who’s several kilometers above it. Maybe Tomura’s too excited that you actually showed up to evaluate what you actually look like. He looks away, then looks back. Nope – you’re still pretty, even though your face is flushed and you’re breathing hard like you’ve just been running. Did you run here to meet him? Only one way to find out. “I’m Tomura.”

“I’m so sorry,” you say. “My boss held me back at work, and I missed my train –”

You’re wearing some kind of work uniform. Scrubs, maybe. Are you a nurse? “And then I couldn’t decide whether to wait for another train or just run, so I ran – but I don’t really run, so it took even longer –”

Tomura doesn’t run, either. When he was doing the stupid online dating thing, he sorted out everybody who said more than one sentence about working out. You pause to suck down a breath, then keep talking. “I know everything I just said sounds like an excuse, and I know you’re leaving,” you say, “but I was hoping I could catch you so I could say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stand you up. I get it if you want to call it off.”

Before Tomura can answer or even think about what he’s going to say, Magne bursts out of the crowd. “I told you not to run off,” she scolds, collaring Tomura again. “If you don’t stay put, there’s no way she’s going to – oh! You’re here!”

You nod. Magne looks you up and down. “I told you to dress cute,” she scolds. “And to get here on time. I practically had to chain him to a streetlight so he wouldn’t escape.”

“I’m sorry,” you say. “My boss –”

“Of course,” Magne says, scowling. “He’s never met a good time he doesn’t want to ruin.”

Magne knows who your boss is? “How do you to know each other?”

“She’s a pharmacy tech at the place I go to pick up my E,” Magne says. “She’s the only one who works there who isn’t an asshole, and her boss is the biggest asshole of them all. I only go in there when she’s on and he’s off. But let me introduce you the right way. Shigaraki, this is – ”

Tomura misses your name the first time Magne says it, catches it the second time, but it barely registers except as something he probably shouldn’t forget. You’re pretty. You’re not an asshole, or at least you’re the same kind of asshole as Magne and everybody else Magne’s friends with, including Tomura. Your boss is the wrong kind of asshole, which means you probably didn’t blow Tomura off on purpose. And you ran here so you could meet him even when you knew you were really late. You must have really wanted to meet Tomura. What did Magne tell you about him?

Tomura can ask you about that later. “So?” Magne is saying expectantly. “Can I leave you two alone, or are you going to run away again?”

“No,” Tomura says. “You can go.”

You look surprised. “Um –”

“Now.”

Magne cackles. She snatches the hat off Tomura’s head, ruffles his hair, and slaps him on the back hard enough that he staggers. “Have fun! I want all the details later!”

“Sure,” you say, bewildered, as she kisses you on the cheek. Tomura’s going to have to talk to you about that – any details you share with Magne will be fair game for the rest of Tomura’s friends, and he’s not sure how much he wants them to know. “Um, bye.”

Magne waves and vanishes into the crowd. Now it’s just you and Tomura standing on the sidewalk. You shuffle off to one side, out of the way, and Tomura follows you. “Are you sure you still want to do this?” you ask once you’re both leaning against the railing. “I get it if you’re not in the mood. When I’ve gotten stood up, I haven’t wanted to –”

“You’ve never been stood up in your life,” Tomura says, and your expression changes from confused to offended. “Look at you.”

You look down at yourself, then back up at him. “What does that mean?”

“I didn’t know anything about you and I got here on time. If I knew what you looked like beforehand I’d have been two hours early.” It sounded like a compliment in Tomura’s head, but he can’t tell if you’re taking it that way. “People like you don’t get stood up for dates.”

“I wish that were true,” you say. You look away. “I know how it feels. I get it if you don’t want to go out anymore.”

Tomura pretends he’s thinking about it. “How far did you run to get here?”

“Sixteen blocks.”

“You ran sixteen blocks to meet me. That cancels out being late,” Tomura says. You look up, surprised for a second or two before the relief kicks in. “I still want to go out.”

“Me, too,” you say. You smile at him. Women don’t usually smile at Tomura. People don’t usually smile at Tomura. He doesn’t know what to do with it. “Thanks, Tomura. For giving me a chance.”

“Yeah,” Tomura says. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t really know,” you admit. “It’s been a while since I went on a date.”

“Same,” Tomura says. ‘Never’ counts as a while in his book. “I don’t know – grab drinks or something?”

You nod. “Can we find somewhere to sit down for a second first? I don’t usually run that much, and I don’t want to pass out on you.”

“You can pass out on me if you want,” Tomura says. You blink. Tomura facepalms even though you’re looking right at him. “There are benches back there.”

The crowd on the sidewalk is only getting denser. Tomura doesn’t want to get separated from you, so he tells you to hold onto the back of his shirt. You grab his hand instead, and you’re still holding it when the two of you find a place to sit down. Still holding it once you’re both settled, searching for something to talk about. Tomura’s not optimistic about this. You’re too good to be true – the kind of woman who’d run sixteen blocks to meet him and hold his hand is a kind of woman who doesn’t exist. Even so, it’s – nice. Tomura laces his fingers with yours and decides to enjoy it while it lasts.

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #x reader #reader insert #man door hand hook car door #a bisquared production

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erodasfishtacos · 7 months ago

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Boredom & Blind Dates [pt I]

summary: yn is a good friend, who's willing to go on a blind date so that her friend can try to pull the man of her dreams. the new bigshot doctor at the hospital she's works. the dinner isnt as charming as she hoped

word count: 5k

warnings: angst

author's note: hii! this was based off a request. the rest will be posted on patreon and there’s already another part up :)

You can subscribe for $3 USD a month here

Victoria was a friend that YN had made in college when they were both studying completely opposite majors but happened to be roomed in the same two-bed dorm.

They clicked instantly and just like their majors, they were also exact opposite in their personalities too but it somehow just meshed perfectly together.

Victoria was a social butterfly who did not have a fear of being the center of attention, going after whoever she wanted (and typically pulling them), and her confidence was impressive.

Despite how smart Victoria was, she had a tendency to come off a bit ditzy, and has been called an air-head more than twice in YN’s presence.

The boys in more prestigious majors like law and medicine usually didn’t find her carefree attitude as appealing.

While Tori snagged the frat boys, YN steered clear of them which worked because they had never once had a crush on the same man.

After graduation, it only made sense to move in together because Seattle was a ridiculously overpriced city but their job wages were competitive.

Victoria was a nurse, she worked on a surgery recovery wing, and complained about her job constantly because of the crabby patients and long hours.

YN worked behind a desk all day, very rarely having to interact with anyone but if she did - it was all virtual from home.

She was the head accountant for a social media marketing company which was a pretty high position for the few years of experience she had.

YN had always been serious, more mature for her age, and always excelled above everyone else in her grade.

It hadn’t been a surprise when she was valedictorian or made summa cum laude in her undergraduate and masters degree with ease.

YN didn’t party, didn’t love socializing out in clubs but would go when Victoria pressured her enough to do so, and it was fine.

YN had been so involved in establishing her career, creating a successful life, and making a name for herself that she didn’t have time for the things Victoria did.

Dating app hookups, one night stands from the bar, and casual flings that only lasted a few weeks was how Tori rolled.

Typically, at least once a month, she was bawling to YN about the latest dickhead who treated her like she was disposable but kept going for the same type.

YN had empathy to an extent, always uncorked the wine and half-listened to her rants about chivalry being dead while she was still thinking about an account she needed to work on because the deadline was coming up.

YN liked to think she lived vicariously through Victoria’s stories which worked for her because then she didn’t have to experience those things herself.

YN had been sitting on the couch, laptop balanced on the wide arm as she scrolled through work emails while catching up on her guilty pleasure reality show.

It was nearly ten at night but she was waiting for a reply from a customer with a time difference, work could sometimes be a whole day and night ordeal.

There was no question that YN was uptight, rarely - if ever relaxed, and did not have much time for anything other than what put a hefty sum in her bank account every two weeks.

Victoria tumbled through the front door in a way that is uniquely her - like a hurricane.

Her keys jingling, her water bottle bumping and sloshing water as she drops her purse on the floor unceremoniously with a chapstick rolling out.

She tosses all of her items in a messy pile on the ground with her bag, kicking off her tennis shoes, and nearly prances into the living room.

YN blinks over at her, the excitement of her arrival was a routine now, she no longer gets annoyed that her best friend makes an entrance like that each time.

“Babe, guess what,” Victoria squeals as she sits down right next to her on the couch, still in her magenta colored scrubs and her mascara smudged near her eyes.

“What?” YN replies as she mindlessly clicks refresh in her email, wishing for this message with the information she needs to appear.

“Our new Chief of Medicine started today! He was the head of neurology at another hospital. A literal brain surgeon which, of course I’ve met others but he’s like…the best of the best. They write news articles about him, his studies in medical journals, he’s a big deal,” Victoria is still excited as she nearly bounces in her spot, shaking YN’s laptop.

YN puts a hand up to make sure her computer doesn’t topple, still nonplussed as she looks at her friend, “What does this have to do with you? Is it just because he’s famous in the medical world?”

“No, he’s fucking gorgeous too. I didn’t think you were allowed to be as smart as he is while looking like he just walked off a runway during Paris Fashion Week,” Tori giggles as her cheeks go a bit pink, “He’s the hottest doctor I’ve ever seen.”

“Tori,” YN sighs, clicking her refresh again - nothing, “Again, what is this information leading to?”

“Well I bumped into him today, literally, in the hallway. We spoke briefly, he was polite but serious, and I felt like he was flirting with me. I feel like I have a chance with him,” Her roommate tells her, that same confidence present as ever that she can pull this big shot doctor.

“Good luck with that. I’m sure he’s married with kids,” YN replies somewhat dismissively, unamused that this is how her friend spends her time.

“Nope,” Tori quips back happily, “I googled him. He just made the New York Times list as one of the most eligible bachelors in medicine. Single as they come.”

“I thought you didn’t want to date someone who also worked in medicine,” YN reminds her, clicking refresh once again to no results.

“He’s the exception. If I could settle down with a fuckin neurosurgeon, chief medical officer like come on that would be my biggest achievement,” Victoria pulls out her cell phone, tapping across the screen.

And YN just…cannot relate.

YN only fell in love once.

Where she could fantasize about a life with that person, marriage, kids, a house but it was all fantasy as they were never official in that way.

It was crushed and YN made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t let herself dream like that again.

“Do you want to see a picture?” Victoria asks as she looks for an image to show.

As a stroke of luck, YN’s work phone starts buzzing, and it’s the client she was waiting for to email her, “I’m sure he’s as attractive as you say, Tor. I have to take this.”

Her friend mumbles something about her being in a relationship with work which is honestly not that far off at this point.

However, it gives her an excuse to lock herself in her office for a few hours to avoid the ideas of love, Victoria’s fantasy world, and think about nothing but numbers and percentages.

The next few weeks blend together for YN.

Every few days she actually catches up on her work.

Every few days Victoria recounts her very purposefully crafted run-ins with the chief medical officer to shoot her shot.

Victoria has always been forward, asking bluntly for what she wants but with such a seemingly intimidating man, she finally has met her match.

Her roommate deems the doctor as ‘playing hard to get’ but YN starts to wonder if she’s imagining the spark between them or if it’s truly there.

She talks about times where the doctor flat out ignores her in the hallway but brushes it off that he was extremely busy on a pressing issue.

But then there are times where he will pull her aside, gently by the wrist and ask her about how her day was going, and appear to be interested in her answers.

YN loved her friend but was wildly uninterested in these events, the only thing that kept her curiosity lingering was if she was actually going to snag the head of the biggest hospital in Seattle.

She doesn’t hear much for a week or two.

At least three months have passed since the doctor started.

And this finally appears to be a payoff when Victoria comes home with her usual hurricane routine of leaving a trail of her belongings as she comes through the front door.

“Oh my god, oh my god. Close your laptop and look at me!” Victoria announces dramatically as she rushes over to the couch, taking it upon herself to close the lid of YN’s work computer.

“Tori,” YN scolds with a grumble, she really didn’t appreciate it when her friend interrupted her work flow in the middle of her meticulously constructing a report.

“Hush,” She replies, brushing off her concerns, and patting YN’s thighs, “I need the absolute biggest, most massive favor from you ever. And I really need you to agree, I’ll owe you for eternity.”

This didn’t sound good.

YN blinks at her, expression still unamused as ever.

“Okay. I am going on a date with the chief,” Victoria squeals, high-pitched and loud, “But it’s a double-date, he was telling me he’s looking for a date for his friend. I offered you and he invited us all to dinner at The National.”

Fancy.

And YN tries to settle the itching annoyance at her friend offering her up without her approval but unfortunately it was a very Victoria-like thing to do.

Despite how uptight YN could be, she had a soft spot for her friend and would do anything within her to make her happy so instead of lecturing her about setting her up, YN agrees.

YN thinks about it as the days pass until the date, what’s stopping her from actually giving this a try?

The only information she received about her blind date was that he was also a doctor, orthopedics, and his name was Mitch.

YN dresses nicer than she had originally planned, in a form fitting black dress that shaped her chest phenomenally, making her smaller tits look full and lifted.

It also defined her backside well too, making it rounded and voluminous in a way that it normally didn’t look in her regular outfits.

YN hadn’t been with anyone in over a year, not even a casual hookup because she didn’t do those - she did commitment.

Maybe Mitch would be the one.

YN wasn’t one for magical thinking like her best friend but maybe this is what optimism was supposed to be like as opposed to her normal pessimist outlook.

Victoria dressed stunning as well, albeit a bit more revealing which was her go to, cut-outs along her ribs and the hem was nearly to her bum cheeks so she couldn’t bend over without revealing all of her bits and pieces.

YN was sure that the doctor she was pining after would take her home with her that night but she also knows Victoria is possibly looking at this to become serious.

It was all up in the air.

The National was a quiet restaurant, where business meetings were held and deals were made.

Everyone dressed in expensive outfits that made YN and Victoria’s seem a bit out of place but they blended in well enough.

Neither have been to the location before because it was reservation-only and you had to have enough of a name in Seattle to bother calling.

The fact that the chief was able to get them a table, at relatively short notice was flex in itself, showing off what clout he held in the community.

YN wasn’t impressed, per se, felt like it was a bit-show off but nevertheless it was a nice experience that she’d never likely have again after this night.

Victoria gives the hostess their name before they’re being guided towards the back of the restaurant, it lit dimly enough that it would be hard to see the menu.

As they arrive at the table, there’s two meticulous dressed men sit across from one another, both handsome in different ways.

However, one has a big smile and stands up whilst the other stays seated with a scowl that seems permanently etched on his face - light wrinkles to show for it.

The man who stands up reaches for YN’s hand, kissing the back of it, and introducing himself, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been looking forward to it all week, darling. I’m Mitch.”

“YN,” She replies even though he already knows, allowing the kiss and giving him a polite smile back as he pulls out her chair for her.

Victoria walks around the table, somewhat awkward as her date doesn’t get up or offer to move her chair out, only a curt, “Hello, Victoria. You look nice.”

“Thanks,” Tori blushes easily, YN has to refrain from rolling her eyes at the interaction, she always fell for the rudest, douchey men on Earth.

This doctor was no different as he says back in his chair, shoulders broad, and back straight, head held high as he watches Mitch help YN in her seat.

“Thank you,” YN brushes her fingers against Mitch’s shoulder as he sits down, making eye contact with her date once again.

He had these sincere brown eyes, a shy smile, and his long hair was pulled back into a ponytail as he nods at her.

Mitch wasn’t her type, though she wasn’t picky, and was willing to give anyone a chance - he just wouldn’t be someone she would pick herself.

Maybe that’s a good thing.

“What’s good here?” YN asks Mitch as she opens her menu, it was a small list of entrees, most that YN had only seen on cooking shows or never even heard of.

“I haven’t been here. Styles here is a regular but that’s because he’s the big name ‘round here, well according to London Times - everywhere,” Mitch teases as he glances up at his friend.

Styles doesn’t even lift his lip in a half-smile, his eyes dart to YN before his friend, “The Steelhead Trout is good as is the Filet Migon.”

YN’s eyes trace back over the menu, heart seizing a bit as the numbers next to the entree - realizing that was the price was a bit of shell shock.

She knew that Mitch would pay for her but she felt guilty about ordering something that was well over a hundred and fifty dollars when she would never pay that for dinner herself.

“I think I’ll just get the thai salmon,” YN replies as she glances over, it was the cheapest option, not by much but still.

“There’s peanuts in the sauce,” The doctor tells her as he glances up from his own menu to look at YN.

YN brow furrows at him, lips turning down, and about to say something when he adds, “Victoria informed me that you have a severe peanut allergy and to choose a restaurant that could prepare your food properly.”

YN blinks to process before looking over to Victoria, “Thanks, Tor.”

“I’d rather not see freshman year thanksgiving happen again,” Victoria jokes but there is some real concern there from such a traumatic incident.

YN had accidentally come into contact with some type of nut that sent her into an anaphylactic shock.

They couldn’t find her epipen for a good two minutes until they did and were able to administer her medication until she could make it to the hospital.

Victoria had anxiety about food in their house for ages, paranoid about her own contact with the allergen, and always made sure everyone was aware of YN’s condition.

“I’ll get the filet then,” YN sighs, giving up on picking a cheap option as she closes her menu, and the waiter pours a red wine into her glass.

YN was not in the mood to drink, preferring to sip on her water instead as Victoria and Mitch emptied their first glass quickly.

Victoria’s date sipped more sophisticatedly on his, swirling it like a proper snob before taking a minuscule sip as if he was savoring it.

Mitch seemed very interested in YN, asking multiple questions about her work and personal life, he put an arm around the back of her chair which YN didn’t necessarily mind as they spoke.

From what YN could see, Victoria was not having as much luck with her date as their conversation appeared strained, her friend was doing ninety percent of the talking, and Harry was nodding with an expression of boredom.

After the soup and salads arrive, Mitch and Harry start to chat about something going on with the hospital protocols.

Victoria tries to add in, he doesn’t acknowledge her but Mitch does instead after an uncomfortable pause of silence between them.

YN stays quiet, unable to add anything, and after a moment, Mitch huffs out a laugh, “Enough work talk, we’re excluding YN.”

Harry raises his eyebrow at her, “Need to be the center of attention?”

“Hey,” Mitch frowns, rubbing at YN’s shoulder, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I’m sorry if I just-“

“You’re fine,” YN waves her hand dismissively, giving her friend’s date a displeased glance that Harry returns the scowl just like he’d been doing all night.

Victoria is oblivious, as she tends to be, and is much too focused on keeping her date’s attention to worry about anything else.

“What do you do for work?” Harry asks her, randomly cutting off a story that Victoria was telling about a patient that eloped recently.

“I’m a head accountant for a social media marketing company. What about you?” YN returns the question with sickeningly sweet politeness.

She felt like Harry was a pompous prick, taking pride in his rankings, education, and had a better than attitude that YN really felt was unappealing.

To act like she didn’t know shit about him was the perfect way to irritate him apparently.

It works.

The way his teeth clench together as the wrinkle between his brow deepens further, he straightens his suit jacket before leaning forward to appear casual.

“I’m the Chief Medical Officer of The Hospital of Seattle, a neurosurgeon specializing in spinal cord injury as well as stroke and trauma, I own three outpatient medical practices, as well as instruct other neurosurgeons on new techniques and equipment,” Harry boasts, to be fair, it was extremely impressive.

There was no doubt that the man sitting across from her was extremely intelligent, she’s probably never been around anyone as smart as him but it didn’t excuse his attitude.

You can be intelligent and humble at the same time.

Apparently Doctor Styles did not get the memo.

“That’s nice,” YN replies as she takes a very small sip of wine, even though she was impressed, it didn’t reflect in her bored tone.

Harry scoffs, sitting back, and licking the front of his teeth.

His eyebrow was raised as he repeated in disbelief, “That’s nice? Nothing else, huh?”

Victoria’s eyes dart nervously between the two, she grips Harry’s bicep, “I think it’s the most impressive thing I’ve heard. Not to mention the medical journals you wrote for or the volunteer work.”

YN tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, tampering down a smile at getting a reaction out of her friend’s date, just as she had hoped.

“S’really not as impressive when the person needs to flaunt their accomplishments so extravagantly,” YN shrugs as she puts down her wine glass, nonchalant as ever, and acting as if she was being casual.

Tori delivers a kick to her shin underneath the table, along with a scolding look for her to drop the attitude with Harry because it was ruining their date.

YN pulls back because she did feel guilty at getting into it with this doctor who Tori was trying to pull and she wasn’t increasing the chances with the snide comments.

Harry is about to respond, his ringed fingers clenched on the table, and there were tattoos peeking out from the cuffs of his suit that were very undoctorlike, “You know what I think-?”

“Uhm,” Mitch coughs awkwardly to break up the tension that was getting thick and cloying between everyone at the table, “Victoria, where did you get your nursing degree from?”

The conversation breaks off, Victoria and Mitch start chatting as YN and Harry remain pretty much silent throughout the appetizers.

Victoria is forward, trying to touch her date when possible.

A brush of his hand here, a squeeze of his bulky bicep there.

Though Harry doesn’t shrug her off, he also doesn’t return the favor at all.

He is nearly statuesque, unmoving, and able to sit very still for long amounts of time.

Of course, maybe that is overly obvious because of how all over the place her friend was at all times, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes without needing to adjust the way she’s sitting or fiddle with something on the table.

YN wonders if this whole thing was set up for Mitch and Harry just settled for being on a date with Victoria to help his friend out.

The thought hurt her to think about because she wanted better for her friend.

YN enjoyed having a job that paid her well, more than most people her age were making but it didn’t define who she was.

Doctor Styles seemed to be his entire job as his personality.

How boring.

When Harry manages to get the topic back onto a work issue, YN cannot help but let out a yawn that she very half-heartedly tries to cover with her hand because she could only hear so much about a spinal surgery before she’s zoning out.

Victoria is hanging onto his every word, asking questions, and being overly interested in a lackluster story in his monotone, deep voice that could honestly lull her to sleep because of how bleak and morbid he sounded.

However, when she yawns, no one at the table notices but Harry.

His eyes have darted over to her a few times while he’s been talking, almost to gauge her level of interest, and when she yawns, he visibly huffs before continuing - his words a bit more harsh and a flutter of annoyance twisting into his cadence.

YN had neglected her date during this whole time, in full honesty.

Victoria and Mitch seemed to have a great conversation.

When YN talked to Mitch, he was nice enough and easy to have a conversation with but his boss across the table was distracting and apparently felt the need to constantly be the center of attention even though that’s what he called YN out for.

It’s rude, YN knows it is when she excuses herself to the bathroom mid-story, placing her napkin on the table before swinging her purse over her shoulder, and navigating into the dimly-lit restaurant towards the back.

YN goes into one of the many stalls, a larger bathroom, and sits down.

She didn’t have to go to the bathroom but she had just needed a break because…

What the fuck.

What the actual fuck?

YN would be crawling out the bathroom window if Victoria wasn’t with her.

YN hears the door open and she just knows it’s Victoria.

She is definitely going to give YN a piece of her mind for her attitude at the table and she really can’t blame her because she was not being on her best behavior admittedly.

When YN pushes open the stall, already starting her speech, “Tor, I know you’re probably pissed but -”

However, YN stops mid-setence when she sees that it was not Victoria standing across from her.

No, instead it was Harry, leaning back against the sinks with his arms crossed and a scowl worse than anything that he had displayed at the table across his face.

“Already dating again?” He asks unhappily, the slight crack of his deep drawl gives away the jealously laying behind those words, “That’s pretty fuckin’ rich, innit?”

“Don’t you dare,” YN hisses back, defensive and straightening up, “You don’t have any room to talk.”

“I have plenty,” Harry grits out, his gaze unwavering, his hand twitching like he wants to reach out, “You fucked everything up, not me.”

The awful thing is that YN wants him too.

“That’s not true,” YN murmurs softer, trying to keep the feisty edge in her voice but struggling.

The emotions that she was attempting to hold in at the table were much harder to bottle up when they were standing face-to-face like this.

“You like Mitch?” Harry ignores her rebuttal, his knuckles were white where they were gripping the kitchen sink, “Think he’s nice? Boyfriend material?”

“It’s none of your fucking business,” YN snaps back, finding her bravado a bit more.

“Come here,” Harry orders, voice quiet but sharp, demanding, and it sends a chill down her spine.

“Harry-” YN begins to argue but finds herself walking forward, her heart pounding hard enough that it hurts and her hands were shaking as she clung the strap of her purse as a lifeline as her heels clicked against the tile.

“C’mon, dove,” His voice is sweeter, more goading until she’s close enough to touch.

Her lips parted in nerves, excitement, dread.

His hand reaches out to curl around the nape of her neck, fingers lightly pressing into the sides of her throat and though it was gentle, it was possessive - rooted in the jealousy of what was going on tonight with their dates.

Harry brings her towards him by the hold he has on her, until her hands are laid on his chest, and he’s leaning down as he tilts her head up.

He brushes their lips together, once, twice, and on the third time, YN pulls back and takes a few steps away from him.

“You can’t just do that,” YN huffs, grabbing a tissue from the counter and dabbing at the corners of her eyes to prevent the tears from falling and ruining her makeup, “I’m on a date. You’re on a date. It isn’t fair to either of them.”

Harry laughs unhappily, shaking his head as pushes away from the sink, heading towards the door but before he leaves, he bites back, “I don’t think you have room to be talking about fair. You obviously don’t fuckin’ understand the concept of it. Pull yourself together before you come back out.”

YN knows it immature, proves his point but gives him the middle finger before going back to dabbing at her eyes - fuck, she wishes she didn’t cry around him.

She wondered if it was worth sneaking out the window and facing the wrath of her friend later.

ahhhhhhh.

let me know your thoughts. this was difficult to write but im glad it turned out how i wanted it too! what do you predict?

😙😙😙

#harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic

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muffinpink02 · 8 months ago

Text

Guess who

You want your girlfriend’s (Alexia’s) attention, so you decide to be a brat. But she goes one better and invites a few other teammates to help with your ‘punishment.’

Warnings : Smut , 18+ blindfold, fingering, strap, orgasm denial, cunnilingus, restraint and more. No real story just smut.

The club lights beamed over your face as you danced to the music, glowing in your win. Barcelona had won Liga F, the last two goals were your own, you were close to getting a hactric but the football gods didn’t allow it today. The win was enough.

You celebrated in the changing rooms, champagne was sprayed over the group, you wasn’t sure if it was Lucy or Ingrid, maybe it was both of them. The team of course took the celebrations to a fancy night club. As soon as you arrived the drinks were flowing quick and fast, shots were passed to you from every angle. You were feeling the alcohol but mostly feeling the pride of winning. Maybe it was the excitement from winning or the drink in your system that got you riled up.

You knew you shouldn’t have done it.

The look on her face was enough to put the fear in god. But you wanted her attention, and instead of telling her, instead of asking her like the good girl you were meant to be, you decided to be bratty.

And it worked, you got her attention, her hazel eyes bore into yours as you pressed up against one of the girls on the squad. You wasn’t sure who it was and you didn’t really care, you had pressed your body up against half the team at this point, the liquor in your veins giving you that sense of blind bravery.

You had pressed your backside into Mapi’s front, her tattooed covered arms, swept up your body. Grinding your arse deliciously into her core, smiling wickedly when you heard her moan. You had put your arms around Lucy’s strong shoulders, faces inches from each others, dancing like it was only you two in the room. You even had Ona up against your front, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, making her blush and giggle like a school girl. Nobody would think too much into it, it was normal amongst the team to dance like that. You may have been extra touchy with the three brunettes but everyone was too drunk to notice, except one person.

Alexia watched it all. All of it just for some attention.

She allowed you to keep it up, dancing with everyone in the club. You were a little disappointed that she hadn’t dragged you to the closest bathroom and fucked you until you begged her to stop, but maybe she was saving that for later.

Once the night was over and you were in the back of an Uber with Alexia’s hand between your legs, her fingers gently circling your thighs, you couldn’t help but feel a little worried. You watched the Spaniard looking out the window, she was deep in thought, concentration on her face. But to feel her touch was a good sign, surely she couldn’t be too upset if she wanted to touch you. She hadn’t said much to you, just a short conversation asking if you were ready to leave, and that the Uber had arrived. But she was eerily quiet.

You started to worry if Alexia was genuinely hurt, you only did it to get her riled up. It wasn’t like this was the first time you had made her jealous to get her attention. You had flirted with your team mates before tonight. It would mostly consist of an extra touch to Lucy’s arm when she was talking to you, or laughing extra hard at Mapi’s jokes, and yeah, you liked to pick Ona up from behind, making her squeal and blush. It wasn’t too obvious for anyone to notice, just enough that Alexia would notice.

And you knew she liked it, you both got a kick out of it. You loved nothing more than when Alexia reminded you who you belonged to, reminding you whose name you screamed when you were on the edge of blacking out from pure bliss. You would fuck each other senseless, and you gave one another endless pleasure, it was your thing. But was tonight too much? Had you pushed it? Had the dancing been a step too far? You just wanted her to get her possessive side out, it was your favourite side after all.

When you finally got home you braced yourself to be shoved against a wall, a tongue down your throat, but it never came. Alexia dropped her keys in the bowl and walked towards your bedroom.

“I’m going to shower amor meu.”

You were quick on her heels, not sure on what to do, you felt needy but you couldn’t help it. The Spaniard had started to strip in the bathroom, you watched, not able to take your eyes off her strong, beautiful body.

“Would you like some company?” You asked voice a little shakey.

She turned to look at you, a playful smile set on her face. “Always, baby. Strip.”

You were naked within seconds, you stood in front of the blonde, hot water washing over both your bodies. Your hands were on her straight away, you just needed to feel her skin, desperate to feel her touch. You looked up at her, those hazel eyes were warm, the smile on her face made your insides melt, making you instantly feel calmer. She pulled you closer to her, you exhaled a breath you didn’t release you were holding.

“Did you have fun tonight, baby?” Alexia asked.

“Lots of fun, I’m actually still a bit tipsy. Did you?” You said it while you kissed her neck.

She chuckled at your drunken honesty. “Sí, I had fun. Your goals were amazing. You played so well. I’m very proud of you.” She purred in your ear. Your eyes closed as she kissed your forehead.

You couldn’t stop the smile on your face. It always meant a lot to you when Alexia complimented your football skills. “Thank you, Ale.”

The worry of upsetting Alexia slowly slipped away, maybe she just wasn’t in the mood for that kind of intimacy tonight, she had played the full 90 minutes of the game plus extra time. So maybe it wasn’t what she wanted, and that was fine with you, even if you did feel like a horny teenager right now.

Her hands cupped your face, bringing you to her lips. The kiss was soft and sweet she gently swiped her tongue over your lips, asking for entry. You opened your mouth allowing her tongue to roam your own. The kisses were gentle and intimate, she pulled small sighs from your mouth as her tongue caressed your own. Alexia’s lips always made you melt, no matter where they were on your body. From your mouth, to your stomach, to in between your legs, she knew how to work her tongue.

She pushed a little deeper, the kiss becoming a little more heated. You tried to keep up with her movements, but she was starting to dominate the kiss, your breathing started to become ragged. Her hand came up to the back of your neck, guiding you to the tiled wall, you gasped as your back hit the cold tiles, but she only swallowed it.

This is exactly what you wanted, you had wanted her mouth, her hands, her body, everything that was Alexia, you had wanted her all night. Your plan had clearly worked, maybe she was as turned on as you. You began to moan as her lips collided with yours, she bit hard on your bottom lip, making you whimper loudly. She looked down at you, happy to see your lips were now red and swollen, she pushed her hips on yours and began to rock, her eyes never leaving yours.

She took your hands in one of her own, raising them above your head. She moved her free hand to your lips, stroking her thumb gently where she bit you. She was looking at you with such an intensity it almost scared you.

“You’re so beautiful.” She whispered.

You felt your cheeks blush, you casted your eyes down, suddenly feeling shy.

“Thank you. You’re beautiful too.”

She hummed, her eyes roaming your face, like she was really looking at you, every bit of you. She cupped your chin raising your head, she started to kiss your neck, her gentleness disappeared again. She bit down hard, not enough to hurt but enough to make you whimper. Your arms were still above your head, she was holding you tightly, clearly not wanting you to move. Her free hand slithered down your wet body, stroking your skin, she cupped your pussy, making you groan.

“Ale. Please.”

“Is this what you want?”

You nodded, your teeth between your lips, so desperate for her.

“You looked so good dancing tonight baby.”

Fuck.

“You looked liked you enjoyed yourself with the girls. Especially with Mapi, Lucy and Ona.” She pushed her finger right on your clit making you jolt.

Fuck, there it was.

“Did you like dancing with them? Hmm? It looked liked you really enjoyed yourself. Is that what you want? One of them to fuck you? Make me watch?”

It wasn’t a secret between you and Alexia that you maybe had a little thing for each of the brunettes. Nothing serious, you could just appreciate a good looking woman when you saw one. You had spoken about it before, in the safety of your bed sheets, after a couple hours of screaming each other’s names. And in the midst of your ogasmic haze she then of course asked if you would ever have sex with any of them, and even though you blushed at first you admitted you would. Alexia of course wasn’t jealous, she just made sure to keep a note.

But you had never spoken about them like this, not while you was being intimate. Normally the mild flirting at training just made Alexia want you, punish by you a little, but maybe tonight had sparked something different?

She rolled her hips hard, wanting a response from you.

The move made you moan, your mouth was suddenly dry, you swallowed on nothing. You hoped if you told the truth Alexia would give you what you had wanted all night. Should you admit that you had thought about each girl when you were dancing with them? Should you admit that you liked it? Admit that you loved the way Alexia watched you when you had yourself wrapped up in each of the girls? You tried to look away, now suddenly feeling shy. The alcohol was still in your system but the cocky bravado had disappeared, now all that was left was a tail between your legs and your submissive side showing its face.

Even though Alexia was very possessive of you, she would never make you feel any type of way for your attraction to someone. It was a natural thing to feel, you are attracted to women for godsakes, you can appreciate beauty when you see it. The thing is you didn’t realise how much Alexia had enjoyed watching you with the girls, how much she liked the thought of you with them.

But the look she gave you maybe gave it away. She looked almost hopeful, like she already knew the answer and just wanted to hear you to say it out loud.

Your heart thumped as you said it. “Yes. I liked it, I liked you watching.”

She hummed again, her fingers stroked over your lips, making your skin prickle with goosebumps. “So. You want one of them here? Sí? Touching you like this?” She dipped a single finger into your folds, still not giving you any friction.

You met her eyes this time, you panicked. “No, Ale. Only you.”

“Oh? Do you not want them now? You danced with soo many, have you forgotten?“

“No, I do. I-I d-don’t know.” You panted as she circled her finger just slightly over your clit.

“No baby, you told me already. Don’t lie.”

“Yes, I do. I want them to fuck me.” You whispered.

“Who baby?”

“Ma-Mapi, LUCY! Fuck!” She pushed two fingers hard inside your cunt. “And, a-and Ona.”

She hummed again, her pupils dilated twice the size, making her hazel eyes nearly black. She pumped roughly into you, her fingers slapping hard against your pussy, but it was short lived. She pulled out of you, leaving you wet and desperate. You looked up at her as she grabbed her towel, the smile she gave you was dangerous.

—————

The next couple of days were hell, well, not hell but Alexia wouldn’t have sex with you.

So, it was basically hell.

Every time you tried to initiate it, she stoped you in your tracks. She didn’t stop you kissing or getting handsy but that’s as far as it got. And to be frank It was driving you crazy, you had wanted her since the night club, so to say you was horny was an understatement.

You knew it wasn’t personal, she was punishing you, and of course she would tease the fuck out of you, she flaunted her body around the house, half naked, or sometimes completely naked. She would make sure to push up against you, pushing her core into your arse as you cooked dinner, purring into your ear. And of course she acted innocent to it all, like it was nothing, like she wasn’t driving you crazy. You wasn’t even allowed to touch yourself and release some of your tension, of course Alexia wouldn’t allow it, this was a punishment and you were definitely paying for it.

You got a taste of your own medicine when Alexia began to use your own tricks on the three brunettes. You watched in practice as she spoke to them, easily flirting with them like it was nothing. You knew she had something up her sleeve, she was of course doing it on purpose, knowing you were watching. The no sex punishment had been done before, even though you missed her touch you knew she was going to make it worth it, but it had been six days!

Finally, on the 9th day she broke.

It had been the longest time you hadn’t had sex with each other. And honestly you were staring to climb the walls, you knew you needed to be punished, but nine days without Alexia was torture. Especially when she was right in front of you, it wasn’t like she was away for a trip, she was in touching distance.

It was after a day of training, you stepped out the shower, Alexia was laying on her side of the bed, phone in hand already dressed from her own shower. She was wearing the shorts that rode up her arse, the shorts you loved and a vest top that showed off the bottom of her gorgeous stomach. Fuck. This was hard, just looking at her made your pussy throb.

Hazel eyes caught your own as you walked to your side of the bed. She had a playful smile on her face, the smile that gave you butterflies. You sat on your side of the bed, drying yourself off, trying to ignore your horny thoughts. That’s when you heard the sheets rustle, the bed started to dip behind you.

“Are you sorry?” She purred into your ear, making you shiver.

You fiercely nodded your head. “I’m sorry, Ale.” You didn’t care if you sounded desperate. 9 days!

She hummed, happy with your response, she moved to your side of the bed, and sat in your lap, her beautiful bare thighs sat on the either side of your own.

“I’ve missed you.” You whispered.

“Hmm do you think you’ve learnt your lesson? Seràs bo per a mi?”

You nodded, so desperate for the girl in front of you. “Yes. I’ll be soo good.”

She smiled at you, her smile seemed giddy, she scrapped your hair back behind your ear, bringing her mouth to yours. It was a heated and messy kiss, she pushed you on your back, grinding her clothed pussy on to your stomach. You held onto her hips, helping her movements but she didn’t stay for long. She was off of your lap, walking towards your toy box, you felt your pussy clench at the thought of Alexia fucking you with her strap.

“Get into the middle of the bed, hands up.”

You did as you were told. It wasn’t a secret that you liked being tied up, well, liked was an understatement. You loved it. Alexia had learnt early on in your relationship that it was one of your biggest turn ons. She would have you tied up for hours, using your body how she wanted. She especially loved it when you had been a brat, she would punish you as she pleased. Like this very moment.

Alexia walked over to you, a bounce in her step and a very amused smile on her face, she looked more excited than normal, maybe even nervous, you couldn’t really read her face. Before you could ask if she was okay, she grabbed your hands and with the perfect knot she tide you wrists to the bed frame above your head. You attempted to move but she had done this countless times, the knot was perfect.

“You look so good like this baby.” She kissed your lips softly. She quickly moved to the box grabbing some more toys, you then noticed she had the black blind fold in her hand. You didn’t hate the blindfold but there was nothing better than watching Alexia take what she wanted from you. You swore you could come half the time just by watching her, so the blindfold wasn’t your favourite but you wasn’t about to argue.

“Perfecte” Complete darkness took over, not a bit of light came through the blind fold. The darkness slowly making your other senses heighten. You could hear Alexia’s footsteps around the room, you were waiting to hear the belts of the harness or a vibrator go on, but there was nothing. Until you heard the front door go, making you panic slightly.

“Ale? Who’s that? I didn’t order anything.”

You then felt her hand grip your chin softly, her mouth was near your ear. “We have company baby. They’re here for you.”

Your body tensed up, what did she mean they were here for you? Your mind went a mile a minute. Alexia must have seen the panic on your face, you felt her come closer to you, stroking your hair back gently.

“Since you wanted to be a whore and tease me like a little brat, you’re going to be treated like one. But not just by me, maybe you can guess what teammate of ours is going to help me?”

Your brain couldn’t keep up, you heard what Alexia said but you just couldn’t comprehend. Was she really telling you she had one of the Barca girls outside? Waiting to fuck you? With Alexia? Together? You hated yourself for it but your body reacted just the way Alexia clearly knew it would. But she took your silence for worry.

“Hey, we don’t have to actually do this, I can tell them to leave, and I can unt-.”

“No. No, I want this. I’m green. I want this.”

Alexia would never put you up to something you didn’t want to do, you were both completely honest in your relationship and that didn’t change with sex. When you first got together you had spoken for hours about what you liked, what you didn’t like, safe words, and your kinks. That’s also when she learned you were submissive and she was more dominant, but you could still switch it up when you both wanted to, making you work perfectly together.

After the talk in the shower she had an idea, an idea she knew you’d like. She knew you had enjoyed yourself the other night, she knew you had thought about the girls in intimate ways, and for a while she had thought about watching you with said girls. So she decided to turn the fantasy into a reality.

You couldn’t see it but Alexia’s smile was wide. She stroked your hair back once more, placing a quick kiss to your lips. “Are you sure cariño?”

You trusted Alexia with your life and your body, so you knew you could trust whoever she was allowing to share you with. It made your love grow for Alexia tenfold, you both could be exactly who you wanted to be, no judgement, no jealousy.

“So sure Ale. Who is it?”

She tutted playfully. “Let’s just say say she’s brunette and you danced with her the other night. I’ll be right back, I need to let them in.”

You listened to Alexia leaving the room, you couldn’t believe what was happening. Your body was tingling all over, you was about to have sex with someone and not even get to see them. You wondered who it could be. You rattled your brain, thinking about who you danced with most that night. Also who would agree to this?

You remember dancing with most of the girls, so this would be difficult. Though, you do remember dancing with Mapi a lot, but also Lucy and even Ona. Those were the three you were the most intimate with…. also the three you told Alexia you wanted to fuck! That’s when it hit you, you told Alexia when you were in the shower after the night out. You had completely forgotten about that conversation, still being slightly tipsy at the time. That’s why she must have been flirting, well, talking to them more at practice. Had one of them really agreed to this?

After about five long minutes, you heard footsteps walk in to the bedroom, you suddenly felt exposed. You was completely naked, your body for all to see and you didn’t even know who was looking at you.

“I’m still here, amor meu, and so is our guest. She knows your safe words and what you don’t like. Not that there’s much.” You could hear the teasing in Alexia’s voice.

She continued. “She isn’t going to talk to you, she’s knows it’s your punishment, so don’t try any funny business. Are you going to be a good girl for her Please her?”

You nodded, you could feel your pussy getting wet. Was this really happening?

“Words, baby.”

“I’m going to be good.”

“Good girl. Our guest can’t wait to have you. She wants to taste you.”

The thumping in your heart was loud, you was sure Alexia and whoever was in the room could hear it, or even see your chest moving from the beat. Excited wasn’t the word, you didn’t have the words for how you felt, but the willingness to please was overwhelming.

You could hear shuffling, the bottom of the bed dipped at your feet. Your breathing quickened, you could feel someone was coming closer to you, that’s when you felt the hand on your leg, making you flinch. The hand stroked you soothingly, trying to calm your nerves. Then you felt a pair of lips, a pair of soft gentle lips on your knee, instantly making you hot. You could feel the girl breathing on your skin, almost as hard and erratic as your own. Your body eased a little but you couldn’t help but still feel slightly vulnerable, as much as you was in your own wet dream this was still new.

You couldn’t help but wonder who the lips belonged to. You had never kissed anyone else on the team but Alexia. It was hard to tell from a pair of lips who it could be.

The pair of lips started to slowly creep up your leg, then another hand came to your other leg, slightly opening your thighs. You could feel your legs shaken in anticipation, you tried to relax your muscles and let yourself be taken. She started to kiss up your thigh, slowly getting closer to your pussy. You knew you were already wet, and whoever was between your legs would see it for themselves.

Just as you got ready for the feeling of her tongue, she kissed right over your core, and up your stomach. Taking small bites of your skin, making you whimper. Her hot mouth was suddenly on your nipple, making your back arch off the mattress below. The sucking was gentle, nothing like Alexia, she was always rough with your nipples, something you loved . But the softness made you whimper, wanting more.

“Sones tan bé amor meu, t'estàs passant?” Alexia’s voice sounded close.

“Yes.” You breathed out.

“Good.” You could hear the smile in her voice.

Her mouth continued to work gently on your perked nipples, giving them generous attention, she licked, sucked and softly bit at your flesh, working your body up. She started to kiss up your neck, taking small bites on your skin. Your mind was going a mile a minute, you still couldn’t work out who it was. Without your hands this would be difficult, and Alexia had clearly told them to not make any noise. If you had maybe heard a moan or a sigh or something, you could put a face to it, but she had clearly been thorough with them.

She started to move back down your body, hopefully to where you needed her most. The lips were gentle and slow. This girl was soft with her mouth, making your body melt at her touch. Whoever she was she had made your body completely relaxed making you forget about any anxious feelings you had. Just as you began to relax her mouth was gone, her hands moved around your thighs, opening you wider to her. You could tell she was close to your pussy, the bed dipped just under your arse. That’s when you felt her breathing on your lips, your very wet lips.

Once again you wondered who she was. You had a girl who you trained with, who you saw nearly every day, who you called a team mate, a friend, in between your legs. You didn’t have much time to think on it, you felt a warm tongue glide into your wet folds. You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips. She kept her tongue slow, just taking you in, tasting this new flavour, tasting you on her tongue.

She licked at you slowly, licking everywhere but your clit, wanting to work you up, wanting to work out what you liked. It was an odd feeling having someone’s tongue caress your pussy when you didn’t know who it was. The thought of Alexia watching the act made you even wetter, you could only imagine her face. Was she touching herself? Was she enjoying it? Was she going to join in? Or did she regret it?

The tongue between your legs gently dipped into your core, making you groan, she was so soft, just teasing your muscles. You couldn’t help but rock your hips into her face, trying to make a point that you wanted more. You could have sworn you felt her smile into your core as you felt her hands tighten on your thighs, pulling you closer to her. She must have got the message as she pushed her tongue deeper into you. You let out a deep moan as she started to fuck you with her tongue.

Fuck, she was good.

She took one long lick from your core to your clit, her lips wrapping around your swollen bundle of nerves. You couldn’t hold back the moans as she ate you out. You pulled at your ropes wanting to touch her, but you knew Alexia had you locked in.

“Oh, my god. S-so good. Don’t stop, please.”

You felt a squeeze on your thighs, a small communication between the two of you, making you wonder once again who she was, as her mouth rocked on you gently. She was so delicate and soft but she seemed like she could switch it up from her body language, giving you what you wanted. Whoever it was she could eat pussy like it was second nature.

You could feel your stomach start to tighten, your legs started to shake, your orgasm slowly building up. She must have felt it, deciding to dip her tongue back into your cunt then dragging it back up to your clit. Your hips rolled into her mouth, but she held you down easily, you could feel she was strong, but you knew all three of the women were strong, still giving you no indication on who she could be.

That’s when you felt your climax grow, your breathing quickened, small whimpers tumbled out of your mouth, a tell, tell sign you was close.

“She’s close.” Alexia’s voice was soft and full of arousal, you could hear it from a mile away.

Finally, the girl sucked on your clit, giving you the friction you needed, she bopped her head up and down giving your clit a suction that was just perfect.

“Fuck. I’m coming, please don’t stop.”

She never did, her beautiful mouth stayed where you needed her, making your own mouth water. Your head rolled against your arms as your pleasure took over. Your whole body shook, your hips started to rut against her mouth, but she held you down making sure not to leave your clit. You breathed hard, the beautiful pleasure ran over your body, making you groan loudly.

Your hips slowly stopped grinding, you could feel your juices dripping, but she didn’t let it go to waste. Her tongue dipped into you again, gently taking everything she wanted from you. You keened, you were so sensitive, but you could tell she was trying to be soft. She stayed there for a little while just licking at your juices, dipping her tongue into your hole, you couldn’t help but start to grind into her tongue, feeling yourself wanting to go again.

Once again Alexia’s voice dropped into your ears. “You’re such a greedy girl. Our guest wants your mouth bebita. Are you ready to please her?” Alexia’s voice was closer now, still dripping with arousal, maybe she didn’t regret this.

You nodded quickly. “Yes.”

“What’s your colour love?”

“Green.”

“Good. Because she told me she’s wanted your mouth for the longest time. She wants to sit on your face. She’s going to ride you until she comes. Make sure you’re good for her. Make her feel as good as she made you.”

You nodded again. “I will.” Your pussy squeezed at the thought of someone riding your face. Using you for their own pleasure.

You felt the bed dip again, you could feel her move closer to your top half, kissing your chest as she got higher. All of a sudden you felt hands near your head, then something small in your ears. Music was suddenly playing, making you jump. The first couple notes started and you knew it was yours and Alexia’s bedroom playlist. You realised your air pods had been put in your ears, you wasn’t allowed to hear. Clearly the guest wasn’t able to keep quiet for this part.

You felt fingers dip into your hair, then her thighs were either side of your arms. She gently lowered herself onto your mouth, connecting her pussy to your lips. Your tongue darting out instantly. She was wet and she tasted amazing, you couldn’t help but moan at the taste of her. Fingers gripped at your hair, you could tell she liked your moaning, you moaned again right on her sensitive clit, sending vibrations through her, giving her extra pleasure. That’s when you felt her start to gently rock her hips into your mouth. You then felt her free hand grasp onto your bound one, her fingers intertwined with your own. Making it feel more intimate, even though you had no idea who was riding your face.

Once again your mind was blown away, you had a girl ridding your face and you had no clue who she was. Well, you knew she was one of three, Mapi, Lucy or Ona and apparently one of them had wanted your mouth for the longest time. You licked up at her clit, slowly like she did, you made sure to keep a good pace, wanting to make her feel as good as she did you. The music in your ears wasn’t too distracting but you wish you could have heard her. Was she loud? Was she quiet? Was she talking to you? You loved hearing Alexia moan when your mouth was on her.

She moved up, pushing herself down on your tongue, fucking herself with your mouth. You laid there, being used for someone else’s pleasure, someone was getting off from your body and you didn’t even have the pleasure of sight or sound. Alexia knew you better than you realised, this was the best punishment you had ever had, minus the blind fold, but you knew that was your punishment, not being able to see. You were having one of your biggest fantasies play out in front of you, but not getting to see or really be involved was her way of still having control.

The fingers in your hair stroked at your scalp, making you shiver. She scooped your hair into a loose pony, just tight enough to still guide you where she needed you. After a few minutes, of her using your mouth, her movements became quicker. Her hips moved again, pushing her swollen clit back on to your tongue. You gently suckled on her clit, gliding your tongue over the bundle of nerves, your own pussy was throbbing.

Her hips grinded into your mouth, you could feel her thighs start to tremble. The fingers in your hair pulled you closer to her pussy. It felt like she was close, her movements becoming more rough, the hand in your hair becoming tighter. Her hands gripped the back of your head, lifting your mouth closer to her, she was fucking your mouth now, chasing her own pleasure.

Thats when she rutted hard against your tongue, making it slightly harder for you to breathe, but it only made you wetter. She grinded hard into your face, making sure to hold you in place. You could tell she was coming, you could feel her juices flooding your tongue, giving you no choice but to swallow. You moaned as the fluid trickled down your throat. The grip on your head became loose, but she still kept you in place, slowly moving your mouth on her taking everything she could from you. Her hips slowly came to a stop, as she moved you felt her juices drip down your chin.

You felt her hands gently stroke at your hair, then her body was gone, the music still played in your ears as you felt a pair of lips at your mouth. You realised it was the first time she had kissed your lips.

You stayed like that for a while, tied up listening to music. Your breathing slowed down but the throbbing between your legs hadn’t stopped. The music was paused and the head phones were gone.

A pair of hands stroked your hair, you could instantly tell it was Alexia. “Hola, baby. How was that?”

You smiled at hearing the blondes voice. “Amazing.”

She hummed. “Good. You made our guest very🍀 happy. She’s left your face a little messy but you don’t mind, do you baby?”

You groaned, you loved it when Alexia spoke to you like this, her tone low and dripping with sex. “No I don’t mind. She tasted so good.” You licked your lips, making a point. You could have sworn you heard someone moan in the background.

“Good, I’m glad to hear it. Because she definitely wants your mouth again. Whats your colour?” Alexia asked.

“Green.” You breathed out.

“Are you ready for round two?”

Your thighs rubbed against each other, desperately feeling the want between your legs, you nodded. “Yes.”

Alexia laughed. “Good girl. You looked so good baby.” Alexia kissed your lips, she hummed at the taste of the other girl. “She does taste good, maybe I’ll try her for myself.”

Fuck. the whimper you out was almost embarrassing, you wanted nothing more then to rip the blind fold off and watch Alexia have her way with one of the girls.

“Please Ale, let me see.”

But you only heard Alexia chuckle at your desperate please, choosing not to answer you. Once again you were left in the darkness, and instead of music directly in your ears, your bedroom playlist started to play loudly on a speaker throughout the room. With the music as loud as it was you knew you was going to struggle to hear, so when the bed dipped again it made you jump, but you relaxed instantly, already becoming used to the set up.

Hands placed themselves on your knees, you could tell straight away they were definitely not the same hands as before. These hands were larger, more rough. It confirmed there was more than one girl, did Alexia say there was more than one? Was there two? Or maybe all three?

Once again you wondered who they might belong to, you tired to pictured the three brunettes hands, but they all merged into one.

Her hands opened your legs further apart. Even though you couldn’t see, you could feel’s eyes on you, maybe even more than two. Your body jumped slightly as you felt a finger at your lips, stroking your wet folds. The finger came up to your clit drawing small light circles on to your bundle of nerves. You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your mouth.

“Yes. Yes. Oh my god.”

Whoever she was she was extremely talented with her fingers, she touched you like she had been doing it for years. You groaned hard, your body already building up to another orgasm, your legs started to shake and before you could get any closer her fingers were gone.

You gasped as you felt her fingers push inside your wet core. “Fuck.” You gasped.

It was a slight stretch, her fingers were thick, even thicker then Alexia’s. You also hadn’t had anything in you for over a week. She let you get used to the feeling of her fingers, not moving until she felt your body relax.

Her other hand stroked down your thigh, slightly squeezing your muscle. You felt her large hand press firmly on your stomach, holding you down. You relaxed easily, wanting her to use those talented fingers on you. She stroked her fingers in and out of your cunt, pulling the smallest whimpers from you. She hadn’t even done anything and she already felt amazing. You moved your hips into her hand, trying to urge her to move faster, but she didn’t. She kept up her painfully lazy pace, slow and steady. Was you going to have to beg? You was never below begging.

“Please. I need you faster.” You hoped she could hear you over the music. She squeezed your thigh again, she clearly heard you but she wasn’t budging.

It was a beautiful kind of torture, she was hitting all the right spots, but you needed her to go faster, deeper even. You begged and pleaded for her to pick up her speed but she wouldn’t budge. You could feel your juices dripping into her hand, down your cheeks and on to the mattress below you. You almost felt embarrassed at how wet she had gotten you and the pathetic noises you made for her. She kept it up for about ten minutes but it felt like hours, you pulled at your restraints in frustration. This girl was clearly a tease, she was trying to drive you crazy and frankly, it was working.

Maybe you had to go about this differently, if she could tease, so could you.

“I know you want to fuck me. Are you scared you won’t be as good as Alexia? Are you scared you won’t make me come?”

Bingo.

You felt her movements falter, her fingers stopping for a second or two.

You continued. “Come on, stop teasing me. I can tell you know what you’re doing. And I have a feeling I know who you are, and I know you want to be the best. So show me.”

The thing is, you didn’t have a clue who she was, you just needed to say something that would rile anyone on your team up. And the three brunettes were definitely the type to strive for the best. So yeah, you played a little dirty, and it worked. Her fingers began to pick up pace, not as fast as you’d like, but it was still better than the teasing pace she had before. Maybe she liked to be spoken to?

“Fuck, your fingers are so-so good. Just like that. Please.” You begged.

Again, she picked up the pace, curling her fingers right on your g spot, the groan you let out was loud. Something she seemed to like, her hand gripped tighter on your thigh, pushing your legs wider. She drove her fingers deeper into your core, pulling out deep throaty moans from you as she finally fucked you the way you wanted. You could feel your pussy getting obscenely wetter, her fingers being swallowed by your cunt. That’s when you felt her body move over yours, not touching you completely but her hand was now by your head, holding herself up as her hips slotted between your own. Her thrusts became harder, her fingers dragging your walls perfectly.

“Yes, you’re so-good. So perfect.” You cried out.

You had never been able to climax just by penetration before, you always needed some kind of stimulation on your clit. So when you felt your body beginning to build that familiar sensation you was dazed as you felt your orgasm coming, and it was coming fast.

Her hips never stopped, she had stamina that even Alexia could envy, not once did she falter, keeping up the perfect rhythm of her hips. Her fingers hitting your sweet spots perfectly. That’s when you felt her lips on yours, pushing her tongue into your mouth. Her kisses were soft compared to the fingers in you, it blew your mind. She tasted like mint, her lips were soft but also knew what they wanted.

Your legs began to shake hard, your head flung back as you were approaching your second orgasm. It was strange feeling, you had never come like this and your body almost didn’t know what to do as your orgasm took over your body. You couldn’t hear the exact noise you made but it was loud. You couldn’t believe it, it was the first time you came with fingers and you didn’t even know who they belonged to. Your pussy pulsated hard around her beautiful, talented fingers, you tried to slow your breathing as best as you could. But you were completely wrecked.

“Fuck, oh- oh my god. I can’t feel….god!”

She slowly pulled out of you, wiping her wet fingers on your thigh. It was almost like you could feel her smugness, just from the wipe on your leg alone. And she had all the right to be, she just made you see stars. You were shocked to feel a small kiss at your clit, once again making your body jolt. You felt the bed dip, you could tell she came off the bed, leaving you alone. Your breathing was erratic as you tried to catch your breath.

Not long after a pair of lips was pressed against your cheek. “You came baby? Just from her hands?.” Alexia sounded giddy.

You felt a little shy to admit it, but Alexia obviously saw the whole thing. You was worried she might have been a little upset, Alexia hadn’t made you come just by penetration, and you didn’t want her to feel any type of way.

“I did. It was different. It was nice.” Your head wasn’t in the right frame of mind to come up with a decent sentence.

She came closer to your ear, before she spoke she made your shiver. “You looked so good, I loved watching her fuck you, making you moan like that. She’s talented isn’t she?”

“Fuck, Ale. Yes, so talented.”

You clearly had nothing to worry about.

She continued. “She told me that she knew you would beg she knew you would moan like a whore. She also knew you would be a brat.”

Alexia’s fingers were suddenly on your nipple pinching your sensitive skin.

“Fuuuuck.” You cried out.

Her voice was stern now. “So you still want to be a little brat? Hmm? You want to taunt our guest? I think this isn’t punishment enough, you’re clearly enjoying yourself too much.”

“I’m sorry!” Your voice cracking.

She let go of your nipple. “You will be.”

Your body shivered hard on the bed.

“You doing okay? What’s your colour?” Alexia’s voice was soft again.

“My colours green. I’m good.” You nodded.

You loved how easy Alexia could make you melt from her sexual deviant side to her loving caring side.

“Good. Let’s keep going.”

You nodded, already excited for what was next. You still couldn’t believe Alexia had set this up. You wondered about what the blonde was doing while you were tied up. Was she getting herself off? Or was someone else getting her off?

The music continued to play in the background. After just a minute, the dip came back on the bed. The same pair of hands on you, you felt her push your legs up, your feet planted on the mattress, spreading your legs wide. Thats when you felt something hit the inside of your thigh, your cunt throbbed at the thought of being filled.

You felt her shuffle closer, you could feel her lining up the strap against your lips. Your body was still coming down from your second orgasm of the night, but that wasn’t enough to stop whoever she was. She pushed her dick inside you until her hips were between your thighs, bottoming out inside of your pussy. The air escaped your lungs as you let out a loud gasp, you wasn’t expecting something as big as this. This clearly wasn’t one of your toys, and fuck did it take your breath away.

She didn’t wait around, her hips were moving in and out of you, her pace was fast and hard, pushing your body into the mattress. The toy was bigger than anything you’d had before, the stretch was a lot but it quickly turned into a painful pleasure. She leaned closer into you, her body just on top of your own, pushing deeper into your core. Even though you was already tide up her body pined you down, her hips thrusted deep into you, making you whimper.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You groaned.

You wanted to think about who was fucking you like this, who was looking down at you, listening to you whimper and moan while she fucked you. Before you could even picture one of the brunettes you felt fingers gently wrap around your throat, slightly squeezing. Alexia held your neck all the time while she fucked you, it was definitely a turn on for you, you showed your appreciation with a low moan, the fingers gripping a little tighter at your noise.

This girl could fuck, her hips drove in and out of you rapidly, her pace was fast but deep, forcing you to cry out. This girl was definitely a more dominant lover, her mannerisms were more rough, but in the best way. You pictured each girl above you, driving their body into yours, you pictured Alexia’s face watching you be fucked by one of your team mates. If only you could see her.

She was clearly pushing for her own orgasm, using your body like her own personal sex toy. The sweat on your body was making the girl above you stick to your skin, she was working hard. You felt her movement falter for a second, then you felt it. A vibration sensation swept through your body, right from your core, causing every muscle in your body to jolt.

“Oh, my god!” You cried out.

This strap had a vibrator built in for the person wearing it, but you could still feel the sensation and fuck, was it good but it was almost becoming too much, your head spun from the pain and pleasure, you could feel a faint feeling of an orgasm in the bottom of your stomach. You wasn’t sure your body could go again, you didn’t want to tap out, but you needed something else.

“Please.” You mumbled.

Her hips didn’t stop, her grip on your neck was gone, stroking your skin lovingly instead.

You felt the girl above attach her lips to your neck, making you melt. As much as you loved being fucked senseless you clearly needed a little bit of tenderness. This was still new, and the darkness didn’t help, but the kisses definitely did.

You changed your mind once again on the girl above being a rougher lover, her hips slowed down again, still hitting deep and quick but not as rough. Her lips came to your mouth, pushing her tongue gently in, exploring you. Your head spun, her kisses were everything and more. It was a complete 360 from how she was before. She didn’t once stop kissing you, you had to keep catching air any chance you could. The lack of oxygen made you feel like you could pass out, and in all honesty you wouldn’t mind if you did die this way. It definitely wouldn’t be the worst way to go.

Your clit was being pushed perfectly in this new angle, you could feel your orgasm approaching fast, once again crying out your pleasure. Her kisses never stopped, she was on your neck, face, collar bone, the top of your chest. Anywhere she could reach, driving you fucking insane. Her tongue stroking on your skin was what pushed you over. Nearly.

“No. You dont get to come. You don’t deserve it.” Alexia wasn’t as close as before but you still heard her. She sounded out of breath.

The whine you let out probably shocked the girl above as it even shocked you, but you couldn’t stop it. You were so close to tipping over the edge, your body was fighting for its life. You wanted to beg Alexia but you knew even the whine you let out would have annoyed her. You gritted your teeth and tried to ignore the build of your climax rising in the pit of your stomach.

Her hips started to pump a little quicker into you, then a little deeper. The new rhythm of her beautiful hips had you almost crying. You were trying to catch your breath as she chased her own orgasm. She pushed your hips down into the mattress, as you tried to take what she was giving you. You bit your bottom lip, urging your body to push past it.

You tried to hold back your whimpering as she kept up her pace, it was all too much again. She was making your body work harder than a training session. Alexia must have been able to tell you was struggling to hold on.

“Our guest is close. You can take a little more, I know you can.” Alexia’s voice was right next your ear, making you shiver.

Her voice was dripping with want, you could hear it so clearly, it made your head spin. You never thought you’d hear Alexia tell you to ‘take more’ from another woman. She knew you could take more, this type of sex wasn’t anything you hadn’t done before, but the not seeing made it difficult and maybe a little needy.

“Això és bebè. Et veus molt bé. Has estat una noia tan bona agafant tot això. Realment ets una petita puta..”

Even with the music she said it loud enough for you and the girl above to hear, and she must have liked her captains words, as her hips pushed just a fraction deeper, her hips stuttered inside you, once again pushing your sensitive clit almost to the point of painful. You felt her sit up, holding on to your legs, that’s when you heard a faint moan, but she was too far to recognise and the music was too loud. But you heard it.

You felt her body shake, she pushed herself into you harder. You could feel the final grind of her hips, as she used your body for every drop of her pleasure. She slowly pulled her dick out of you, you felt empty of the loss of feeling so full.

This was the second girl tonight to use your body for her own pleasure. The thought alone made your pussy throb.

Your whole body was on over drive, your arms began to ache, and of course Alexia could read your mind. The music became quieter, the rope on your wrist became loose, making your arms fall slightly, you were thankful for it, your arms had began to ache. A soft kiss pushed against your lips, lips you would know from anywhere.

Alexia lowered your arms in front of you, letting you stretch them out.

“It’s a shame you had to be a brat. Our guest has wanted to do that since you joined the team. She was more than willing when I asked her to join us. She wanted you to come together, but you had to ruin it.”

You groaned, feeling your clit wanting nothing more than that exact thing. But you felt guilty, you didn’t want to be a brat for Alexia, you wanted to show her you could be good for her and your guest. But if you knew Alexia, and you did. You wasn’t going to come for a while, you could hear it in her voice.

“I’m sorry, I’ll be good. Please let me be good for you.”

Alexia cradled your chin. “See, girls she can be good.” She chuckled.

She clearly wasn’t talking to you and from her words it wasn’t one girl. You felt your skin prick at the thought of Lucy, Mapi and Ona seeing you like this. It was the first time you were thankful for the blindfold.

“There’s more than one?” You tried to confirm.

“Is there?.” Alexia’s tone was teasing. She obviously wasn’t going to give you anything, you would just have to work it out as best as you could, but it had been difficult so far. You pouted, you couldn’t believe Alexia had gotten an idea like this, well, you could. You just couldn’t believe it was actually happening.

“Come baby, drink some water. What colour are you?”

You felt the bottle at your lips and drank.

“I’m green. I’m good.” You exhaled.

“Okay. I’m going to tie you back up, but you’re going on your front. Sí?”

“Okay.” You nodded, already excited for the next show. She helped you move forward, laying on your front. She stroked your back lovingly. You loved how Alexia could switch up her dominant side and softer side, she knew you were enjoying yourself but she could also tell you needed to feel her, a familiar touch. She tied your wrist back up, your hand now in front of you.

“Get on your knees bonita.”

You got on your knees, leaning yourself on your forearms as best as you could while being tied up. You felt the bed dip behind you, you could feel a body at your rear. Excitement rushed through your body at the thought of being fucked from behind. Though the thought of not coming was a head fuck. The bed then dipped in front of you, you felt skin brush past your knuckles. Was you about to be fucked by two girls?

Once again the music was loud in the room, you knew what that meant, you almost felt like Pavlov’s dog with how your body reacted.

Soft hands ran down your back, gently touching your skin, it made your body cover itself in goosebumps. Those same hands made their way to your arse, stroking your cheeks, still just as gentle. It was like she was touching porcelain glass with how lightly she touched you, like she was scared to break you. A small moan left your lips as the girl behind you slowly dipped a finger into your wet cunt. She pumped slowly, her other hand on on your back.

Another finger was added just as you felt a hand in your hair, you could feel it was the girl in front of you. The hands slowly guided your head down, on to her awaiting pussy. Your lips touched the already wet skin, your tongue automatically dipped into her folds. From the taste of her you could tell it was a different girl, she tasted just as good as the first girl, but you could feel on your tongue she was different.

You moaned as your tongue took a broad stroke through her wet folds, she kept one hand on your head, just feeling you. She slowly started to guide your head up and down, you kept your tongue out, letting her use your mouth to her desire.

You hadn’t realised the girl behind you had taken her fingers out of you, you were too caught up with working your mouth. You jolted as you felt the head of her dick pushing itself inside your cunt.

She pushed her dick inside your pussy, inch by inch, bottoming out until her own thighs kissed your own. The moan that dripped from your mouth sent a perfect vibration into the girl in front of you, making her push your head further between her legs. The girl behind you began to pump slowly, letting you adjust to the pressure of her dick.

You were being used by two girls, two of your friends, two of the three brunettes that you had fantasised about. You were in heaven.

“Please, I’m so close. Please.”

Alexia shouted ‘no’ from across the room, her voice sounded shakey, she was definitely fucking someone.

You were close to crying, your body was hot, your clit was begging to be touched, it was driving you crazy, your mind felt cloudy, you couldn’t think straight. But you just had to endure it.

The girl behind you picked up her pace, pumping her dick faster inside of you. Her strong thighs slapped the back of your cheeks, pushing your body further into the girl in front. You stayed like this for a while, you sucked and licked at the swollen clit in your mouth, while you were fucked hard from the back.

The girl infront began to buck her hips into your mouth, her hands held your head, chasing her orgasm as she fucked your face. She began let out small moans, but before you could figure it out the girl behind you began to thrust hard, throwing you of the girl in front. The hand on your back was now pushing your head into the pussy you were just eating.

You were trapped between the two bodies, as they had their way with you. Two different hands held your head down, keeping your mouth where she needed you. You then felt the thighs at your head begin to shake, you sucked on her clit, her juices dripping on your tongue as her thighs closed around your ears. The girl behind began to thrust quickly, her hand fingers gripped on your hips as you felt her rut behind you.

The two girls came, both body’s rocking against you, as your body was once again used for someone else’s pleasure. The girl behind you removed her dick, leaving you empty. The girl in front allowed you to clean her up from her juices, she even lifted your head for a deep kiss once she was done with you.

Once again you were left on the bed, your breathing deep and shallow as you tried to control your body. You wanted nothing more than to be allowed to come, that’s all you needed. But you didn’t get it your wish.

The night went on like this, each girl taking turns with you, you had definitely sucked, fucked, licked and tasted each girl tonight. Helping them get to their climaxes as your body could do nothing but take it.

And as you was moved around and put into different positions for each girls sexual desire, you had heard each brunette’s voice. You heard Mapi groan loud as she fucked your arse over the sofa arm chair. You heard Lucy’s voice as she came in your mouth, swearing in that unmistakable northern accent. You even heard Ona whimper when she rode on a strap that had been attached to your hips.

All while not being able to have your own orgasm.

By the 8th or 9th round you were exhausted, you could hardly keep your body up right. The throbbing between your legs was nothing you had ever felt before. Your body had been pushed to new heights. You laid on your back as you panted from the last face ride of the night. Your face covered in one of the brunettes wetness, dripping down your neck.

“Hola baby, how you feeling? What’s your colour?”

Hearing Alexia’s familiar voice brought you back, it was everything you knew, everything you loved. You never noticed just how beautiful her tone of voice was, her accent sounded extra thick.

“I’m green. So, so green. But I don’t think I can take anymore without coming.”

Alexia hummed. “I agree, you’ve been such a good girl. Our guest are very happy.” She stroked your cheek.

“How would you like to come cariño?”

“Anything, please!” You choked out, your voice was the most desperate you’d ever heard it.

She kissed your lips, so gently, her tongue caressed your lips, pulling the sounds she loved from you. She untied your wrist, kissing the skin of where you was tide.

“The blindfold stays on.” She said.

You nodded, you didn’t care you just wanted to be touched.

She guided you on your back, lying on the bed. You waited for a couple of minutes, waiting for what was next, you then felt the bed dip, from all directions.

Alexia’s hands opened your legs, the air hit your wet skin, you could feel every hair on your body stand to attention.

“Do not touch. They can touch you, you don’t touch them.” Alexia’s voice was in its complete dominant state.

You nodded again, not trusting yourself to speak. Alexia’s hands opened your legs further, giving her space for whatever she wanted. A pair of lips attached themselves to your strained nipple, sucking gently as another mouth was on the other nipple. The dirty groan you let out was deep and throaty, your chest vibrated.

Your hands stayed at their side like Alexia told you to do, you wanted so badly to reach out and touch but you had been good for so long, you wasn’t about to ruin it. A third mouth was on your lips, kissing you, sweeping her tongue over your lips, asking politely for entrance. You moaned as one of the girls on your nipples bit you playfully, the girl then thrusted her tongue inside your mouth.

That’s when you felt Alexia’s mouth on your pussy, you cried out as four different set of lips worshiped your body. You could tell Alexia was being gentle, she swept her tongue softly over your very, very sensitive clit. You felt like you were about to float away, their mouths were everywhere on you, sucking and licking your hot skin.

Alexia wrapped her lips around your clit and sucked, she moaned around your flesh, sucking and kissing every bit of you she could get her mouth on. You could feel your juices dripping down your cunt, soaking the sheets beneath you. You had never been this wet before, you had never felt your body reacting in this way. You felt your orgasm already at the cusp, your hips gently rocked into Alexia’s talented mouth. Your voice was almost gone as your body began to shake, the deep moan that escaped your throat was down right dirty.

“That’s it baby, come for me.” Alexia rasped, and quickly attached her lips back to your clit.

“I can’t, I ca- fuck!” You screamed. Your moans bounced off the walls in the room.

You almost blacked out, your body was floating as you finally came, you gripped the sheets instead of Alexia’s head, too scared to incase she moved her beautiful mouth away. Your hips bucked, but firm hands pressed your hips down. The lips on your body never stopping, kissing and caressing every piece of you. You felt Alexia’s tongue lapping up your juices, as your body finally returned to earth. You could feel the tears prickling your eyes, you wasn’t sure if it was from the pure pleasure or the raw emotion of your body having to hold so much pressure from your final release.

You laid there for a few moments, catching your breath, your chest heaving hard. You felt the bed become empty as the girls removed themselves from your body.

“You’re so perfect, bebita.” Alexia kissed your thighs, but you barely felt her.

“Our guest are leaving now, what do you say?”

“Thank you.” You rasped.

“Good girl. Don’t move until I say.”

You were nowhere close to moving, your muscles were weak, everything felt heavy. You heard some shuffling in the background as what you assumed was the girls leaving. Then what sounded like the front door shutting. You drifted off, in and out of sleep, until Alexia’s lips pressed against your forehead, waking you.

“Come bebita.”

She untied the blindfold from your eyes, you winced as you saw some light. But Alexia had made sure to turn every light off, every curtain closed, knowing your eyes would be sensitive. She picked you up bridal style and walked you into the bathroom, candles were lit everywhere, a hot steamy bubble bath was waiting for you. She helped you in and washed your body, massaging your arms of the aches from being bounded.

“Did you enjoy yourself baby?” She kissed the back of your neck.

“So much, Ale. I still can’t believe it. I just wish I could have seen them.”

She chuckled right next to your ear making your skin shiver.

“You were so good, maybe we can do it again if you’re not bratty. They really enjoyed you.”

“Yes! But no blind fold.”

She quirked her eyebrow at you. “I decide that. Rest up, relax your body.” She kissed your neck.

She left you to relax, changing the wet sheets. Once you began to prone up she helped you out of the bath, and into a set of pjs. You decided on ordering dinner as you were both worn out. You slept like a log that night.

It was the next morning, you walked into the changing the rooms, feeling slightly anxious at the thought of seeing the three brunettes after they had fucked you senseless.

But when you were finally face to face with the girls you felt like you had dreamt the whole thing, none of the girls acted any differently towards you. The training session was like any other day, you got on with your sets in the gym, then into the group training.

It wasn’t until you had a training match that you were brought back to last night. It always got physical during these matches, so when you felt a strong body pressed up against you like it did last night, you faltered. You looked up to see Lucy’s green eyes burning into you, a small smile on her face.

A little later in the game you felt familiar hands on your hips as you got ready for a penalty. You looked down to see those tattooed hands belonging to Mapi, you then felt her breath right on your neck as she dragged you back against her core. You missed the penalty completely. Finally it was near the end of the game, you had played badly due to your mind being in the gutter. But of course it had to finish with Ona cramping her leg next to you, you quickly rubbed her thigh trying to help the girl. She whimpered just like she did last night when your head was between her legs.

By the end of the game you could feel wetness polling between your legs, and all of the girls watched you knowingly. Devilish smirks plastered their faces as they watched you struggle to get to grips. It made your skin hot, your cheeks flushed. If only you could have seen the way they looked at you last night.

You were definitely going to throw the blind fold away when you got home.

#woso smut #lucy bronze #ona batlle #women’s football #woso soccer #alexia putellas x imagine #alexia putellas smut #alexia putellas x reader #mapi leon #woso community #woso #woso imagine #alexia putellas #lucy bronze smut #mapi leon smut

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kitten4sannie · 9 months ago

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ʟɪꜰᴇ ɪꜱ ꜱʜᴏʀᴛ, ʟɪꜰᴇ’ꜱ ᴀ ʀᴀᴄᴇ

ʜᴀᴛᴇ ꜱᴇx/ʜᴀɪʀ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ➠ ꜱᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

pairing: seasoned model! seonghwa x newcomer model! reader (fem) x models! woosan feat. director! hongjoong

genres: modeling au, smut

summary: walking for this season’s collection means everything to you, and you’re not about to let anyone get in the way, especially not a man who’s dead set on taking your place, no matter how insanely pretty he may be.

w.c: 4.8k

warnings: everyone’s an asshole here lol, use of drugs/alcohol, dom! seonghwa, bratty sub! reader, dom-ish poly! woosan, usage of the word ‘mommy’, mutual masturbation in the back of a limo, handjobs, tension, name calling/pet names, degradation/praise, brat taming, manhandling, choking, thigh grinding, kissing, brief spit play, hair pulling, marking, nasty hate sex in a club bathroom, creampie, brief breeding/bulge kink

a/n: i wanted to write like 10k words for this fic bc modeling aus just make me lose it fsr esp when ateez is involved 🧎🏻‍♀️maybe i will one day <3 i had sm fun with this one arrghhh!! alsoooo i can’t believe there’s only one more story left to share with you all like huhh ??? 😺time flies man ;~; anyways please enjoy xx

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ᴘɪɴᴋ ᴘᴀʀᴛʏ ʙʏ ɪꜱᴀᴀᴄ ᴅᴜɴʙᴀʀ

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ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

Modeling, for some, was about being a part of something bigger than them — the head-turning brands, the constant development of fashion and what was considered to be hot and new, the runways, the avant-garde collections, the hazy after parties that supplied them with drugs, alcohol, and sex. All the excess, the gaudiness of it all, kept your cohorts going, kept them content, kept them chained to the modeling world, all the while they scratched at their pearl-adorned necks and begged for more.

All of that was fun, sure, but what kept you on your hands and knees, what fueled you to continue dragging yourself up through the ranks, what gave you the strength to bow down and service executive after executive, what propelled you to treat your body like the ultimate temple, was the glory. The moment you were up on that stage, basking in the blood and tear soaked limelight, cameras flashing, rendering you blind, your dear director’s arm hooked securely around your waist, your perfect face ready to be displayed on every magazine cover; that’s why you sacrificed everything. That’s why you gave all of yourself to the fashion beast — let it consume you whole, spit you out, and mold you into something they wanted. And you weren’t about to let anyone get in the way.

On the way to your esteemed director’s latest show, you let your mind go blank in the back of the spacious limousine, resting your half-empty glass of champagne in between your legs, not paying any mind to the boisterous conversation your modeling friends were having from either side of you until one of them suddenly grabbed onto your arm and tugged on it.

“Hey, baby, you’re gonna want to hold onto your tits…” San, your best friend since your first real shoot, warned you, before popping a few pills into his mouth and downing them with some sparkling champagne.

“Why? What’s going on?” you asked concernedly, not ready for anything bad to happen on your big night.

“Look at this…” Wooyoung, your ride-or-die, who was a part of the package deal when you initially met San, spoke up beside you, leaning across the padded seat to show you something on his phone.

You took a slow sip from your glass, your eyes studying the large, obnoxious headline that sat at the top of the celebrity news article, having to cover your mouth to keep yourself from spraying champagne all over.

Fashion Icon Park Seonghwa Joins Kim Hongjoong’s Spring Collection Due to Last Minute Inspiration

You started to read more of the article but you felt sick to your stomach with the way they were giving Seonghwa that Samsung spin cycle sloppy toppy 9000 through their embellished wording. “This cannot be happening…Tell me this is a joke!” you gasped, grabbing onto Wooyoung’s silk sleeve and San’s leather-bound pants, pleading with both of them with your teary eyes. “If he’s going to be there, everything will be fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.”

“Everything will be fine, doll.” Wooyoung pressed his plump, glossy lips to your cheek and lips, trying to calm you down, running his fingers through your hair. “Just relax for me…”

Your rigid body slowly began to relax, leaning further into the kisses he gave you, almost forgetting around your second counterpart, until he placed a gloved hand around your upper thigh and squeezed it, causing you to face him. “Sannie…”

“I’m sure you’ll still be the center of attention, baby.” San continued to rub your thigh, his hand moving further and further up your bare leg, compelling you to look down at the logo engraved on his expensive glove until it disappeared underneath your tiny skirt. “I mean, look at you,” he continued in a low tone, giving you a perverse smile, motioning to the tight, sleek black designer dress you were wearing, one that Director Kim himself created for you, his star pupil.

“He’s right, doll,” Wooyoung agreed, bringing his pinky up to his nose to snort something powdery, before leaning over to kiss you on the neck, his own hand making its way to your other thigh, pulling it open just as San did, their fingers slipping up and down your bare cunt from underneath your skirt. “You’ll always be everyone’s favorite…Our favorite too.”

You basked in your modeling friends’ depraved attentiveness like you always seemed to do, all three of you just drinking in the pleasing sight of one another, your hands rubbing over their hardening cocks through their expensive clothing, eventually finding your way underneath it, much to their enjoyment.

With one hand around each of their cocks, you jerked them off with frightening accuracy, knowing when to squeeze around their glistening cockheads and what vein to rub at with your thumbs to make them whimper and whine in your ears, using their leaking pre-cum to lube them up. “Aww, does that feel good? Are you two going to cum just for me?”

“Yes, Mommy,” Wooyoung let slip out in a shaky breath, his wrist starting to cramp up from how hard he was finger-fucking you, leaving messy kisses across your collarbone.

“Gonna cum for my favorite girl,” San exhaled into your pierced ear, pinching his gloved fingers tightly around your clit, watching you spasm with a smirk on his flushed face, his pretty pink lips forming an ‘o’ as soon as his cock began to throb.

All three of you began to shudder and jolt against each other and the leather seats behind you, finishing your typical pre-modeling ritual with a much needed, drug-enhanced orgasm.

Once San and Wooyoung began to fix their clothes and hair using their phone cameras, taking a few pictures of themselves to capture their alluring afterglows, you reached forward to knock on the partition that separated you and the driver.

The window slowly rolled down, bringing you face to face with the seasoned driver. “We’re just around the corner to the venue, Miss.” His eyes widened slightly when you held your hands up in front of him, his soft, jovial expression forming one of shock.

“Napkins, please,” you requested softly with a cordial smile, as if you didn’t have your friends’ cum dripping along your manicured fingers down to your 24k gold bracelets.

࿏࿏࿏

“If Director Kim gives the final walk to Seonghwa, I’m going to kill him…” you hissed through gritted teeth, not able to look directly at Wooyoung or San when you spoke, instead having to look upwards so that the makeup artist could properly run their brush along your lash line.

“Director Kim or Seonghwa?” San perused, immediately sucking in his cheeks a bit, the person in front of him brushing more contour along his already sharpened cheekbones.

“Seonghwa…that beautiful prick…” Your eyebrows furrowed together, picturing the irritatingly gorgeous man in your mind’s eye with your eyes closed shut. “I swear to god if he takes what’s mine, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” you heard someone say in a silky smooth voice, one that made your heart just about burst out of your chest. “What is the pretty little new girl going to do, besides talk shit behind my back, hm?”

You opened your eyes just in time to see Seonghwa standing behind you in the mirror with one hand on his hip and the other swishing around some bubbly alcohol inside a champagne flute, his infamously piercing gaze settled entirely on you, your jaw practically on the floor.

“Face crack of the century…” Wooyoung whispered to San, the both of them grabbing onto each other and flipping out, waiting impatiently to witness what was about to go down between two of Director Kim’s most prized possessions.

Seonghwa carefully ran his ringed fingers through his hair, taking a few steps closer to you, placing a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it somewhat roughly, looking down at you like you were the mouse he had just pinned underneath his claws. “Is this what they consider to be hot these days?” he grimaced, eyeing you up and down, running a finger along your jaw, knowing exactly how he’d get under your skin. “Times certainly have changed…”

You suddenly stood up and got in Seonghwa’s face, your stilettos giving you enough leverage to almost meet your sworn enemy at eye-level, pressing a finger into his chest plate through his perfectly tailored, button-up blouse. “You may be one of the hottest people in here, but you’re old news, Seonghwa. The only reason you’re considered an icon is because of Director Kim’s influence, okay? Let’s not kid ourselves.” Noticing the way Seonghwa’s face flinched, you knew you struck a nerve. Now it was time to deliver the final blow.

Seonghwa’s hand clenched tightly around his glass, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. He took a step closer to you, so close now that his breath hit your chin. “You better watch your fucking mouth…”

Your friends let out silent screams, hardly able to let the makeup artists do their jobs with the way they were shaking each other. A few other models had stopped in their places to figure out why there was suddenly so much tension in their beloved workplace, their eyes on the both of you, whispering amongst one another.

You crossed your arms over your chest, tilting your head to the side, ready to project your own insecurities onto Seonghwa for the sake of making him look so bad, he would hopefully decide to just storm out. “Why are you so mad, Seonghwa?” You reached up to run your fingers through his silky, wavy hair, giving him a fake pout. “Is it because everyone knows that the only reason you got into this show is because you let the director fuck you like all those times before? We’ve all seen the photos, you know. They got leaked everywhere.”

It wasn’t until Seonghwa threw a full glass of champagne on you, that everyone around you let out an even bigger gasp. Your hair was wet and sticky, your mascara began to trickle down your contorted face, and worst of all, the outfit you were going to wear down the runway in a few minutes was completely ruined. Filled with a sudden sense of hatred that bordered arousal, you grabbed Seonghwa by the collar, tugging him toward you, your lips almost touching. “You…fucking…cu–”

“Oh, sweetie…” Seonghwa reached his hand up to caress your cheek with an odd gentleness, smearing his thumb down your cheek just to ruin you a little more. “There’s no need to be jealous of me. It’s okay that you’ll never be Hongjoong’s favorite.” He gave you a sweet smile, one that was so angelic, you almost missed the devilish look in his eyes, his thumb now pressing into your bottom lip. “No matter what you do, no matter how much executive cock you suck, you’ll never be me. Accept it and you’ll be less angry…You’ll have less wrinkles too.”

It was just then that the director himself came strolling up with a few members of his frantic entourage, gasping in horror at your disheveled appearance. “Y/N, jesus, what on earth have you done to yourself, darling?” Hongjoong pulled at your sleeves and parts of your garments, tsking every now and then, absolutely appalled with your appearance. “There’s no way in hell you’re walking down my runway like that.”

“Director, please, I haven’t even gotten a chance to walk in tonight’s collection yet!” You shook your head adamantly, getting drops of water onto Hongjoong’s pristine clothes, causing him to grab your shoulders and squeeze them, giving you a look that made you shut up and accept defeat. For now.

Hongjoong turned to Seonghwa, his grimace being replaced by a radiant smile, reaching up to twirl a lock of the model’s shiny hair in between two fingers. “I can’t have problems like these in the middle of my show…Take over Y/N’s place for me, will you, sweetheart?”

Seonghwa gently grabbed Hongjoong’s wrist and pressed a kiss onto his knuckles, leaving a lipstick print behind. “Anything for you, darling.”

Hongjoong blushed and walked away with Seonghwa, his entourage following close behind them, fawning over them in a way that made your blood boil. That should’ve been you, not Seonghwa, not someone who already had their chance in the limelight.

“Y/N, are you okay after… all that?” Wooyoung asked softly, rubbing your shoulder, frowning a bit at the small nod you gave him.

“Yeah, that was brutal to watch…” San mentioned, getting smacked in the shoulder by Wooyoung, pausing to give him a look, before bringing up a cloth to dab it against your dripping face. “You’ll bounce back from this, baby, don’t worry.”

After a few moments of silence, you suddenly pulled the both of them closer to you. “I��m going to be the final one walking down that runway, if it’s the last thing I do.” You leaned in to press a kiss onto both of their lips, looking up at them with big, teary eyes, your bottom lip jutting out. “You’ll help me, won’t you?”

Your friends gulped and looked at each other for the consensus, then back at you, their pretty faces full of the same mischievous tenacity you displayed.

࿏࿏࿏

Seonghwa never felt more alive than when he walked down the long, lit-up runway, sashaying his way to the end of it and doing a small elegant turn to the side, smiling ever so softly at the sounds of cheers and clapping coming from the vast crowd, their phones flashing as they eagerly captured the moment and posted it to their socials, most definitely gushing over Seonghwa’s beauty combined with his director’s creative vision, his body swathed in form-fitting, eye-catching cloth. Knowing he took that moment from the bratty newcomer and got to savor it all to himself was simply the cherry on top.

Even when he made his way backstage and sat down to have his hair and makeup redone, the buzz didn’t seem to leave him. The attention didn’t seem to either, his eyes flitting to the side when he began to tune into Wooyoung and San’s conversation as soon as he became the topic.

“Talk to him already,” Wooyoung encouraged, pushing on San’s broad shoulder to get him to move. “You wanna fuck him or not?”

“I’m too shyyy,” San whined obnoxiously, giving his best friend a pout, before covering his face.

“Oh my god, I’ll fuck him then.” Wooyoung casually moved his chair over to Seonghwa, draping one of his hands over the seasoned model’s thighs once he sat down again. “I couldn’t help but notice how incredibly hot you were when you put Y/N in her place earlier…It made me want a turn.”

“Is that so?” Seonghwa studied Wooyoung’s enticing features, his gaze settling on the mole that graced his glossy lips. “What exactly got you all hot and bothered?”

Meanwhile, San meekly sat down on the other side of Seonghwa, gently pressing one hand into the older man’s thigh like he was making biscuits. “For me, it was when you threw the champagne in her face…That got me hard…”

Seonghwa turned to look at San, nodding at his pretty, feline-like face with approval, before his chin was grabbed by Wooyoung, his fingers pressing into his cheeks. “For me, it was when you called her out for being a whore…All I could think about was you making me your whore instead…”

“Me first,” San whined, leaning on Seonghwa’s shoulder, trying to pull Seonghwa’s attention from Wooyoung, who gave him the evil eye.

“You cum too fast, San. He should fuck me first,” Wooyoung countered, smiling smugly, wrapping a lock of Seonghwa’s hair around his finger. “I’m versatile, by the way. We can do whatever you want to, baby.”

“Mm, tell me more…” Seonghwa requested, bringing his arms back and around both of their shoulders, enjoying the feeling of being fawned over by two extremely attractive models who seemed to be competing over his attention. Of course they would be. He was an icon.

At this point, the makeup and hair stylist had wandered off to take care of the other models, not having nearly enough time to care about Seonghwa’s current quest in getting his dick wet.

Your plan had all been riding on whether Seonghwa would be self-serving or not, and much to your relief, you spotted him whispering things into the ears of your friends from across the large room, taking the opportunity to fit yourself into the black form-fitting blazer that was matched with a simple black trouser, a few silver necklaces hanging from your exposed collarbone. As it was made for Seonghwa at the last second, the blazer had nothing underneath it, leaving virtually nothing to the imagination. It was explicit, to say the least. You already knew in your heart that your director would love it.

And, just like that, Hongjoong came back around the corner with a coffee cup in hand. Upon seeing you, he gasped loudly, stopping dramatically in his tracks, taking a long swig from his cup and handing it off to one of the nameless people next to him, causing everyone around him to look at you, including Seonghwa and your partners in crime. “Darling. Look. At. You.”

“Do you like it, Director?” you asked softly, running one of your fingers along the perfectly stitched lining of your breast pocket.

Hongjoong stood in front of you, placing his hands on your shoulders, letting them slowly slide down the sides of your arms, his eyes surveying your perfect form, unable to take his eyes off of your exposed chest. “This is going to turn heads…This is…going to change everything,” Hongjoong sighed out, dollar signs in his eyes and inspiration pouring out of his very soul. He suddenly turned you to face the crowd of people, clutching your shoulders, ready to shed a tear. “Do you see this, everyone? We are witnessing a new era in fashion occur in front of our very eyes. Out with the old, in with the new.”

Your director continued on with his inspiring, soul-gripping speech, which resulted in a sea of tears and a wave of applause from your roused colleagues — yet you couldn’t hear a single thing. All you could focus on was the way Seonghwa’s dark eyes bored into you, his lips screwed into a deep grimace, his fingers gripping his chair so tightly he left indents. He was just waiting for the moment he could tear you apart. And for some odd reason, you welcomed it with open arms as you walked past him with your dear director’s arm hooked around your waist, blowing him a kiss on your way to the main stage to be on display for everyone to see the collection’s final jaw-dropping look.

࿏࿏࿏

“Y/N, baby, you’re trending!” San exclaimed loudly, having to raise his voice so you could hear him over the loud, thumping music that was blasting through the club’s speakers, repositioning himself on the large leather couch you all sat on. He kept his arm securely around Wooyoung’s waist, leaning across him to show you countless posts that showcased you strutting down the runway.

Wooyoung squeezed your shoulder, taking a drink from his glass, giggling to himself. “I think at least five million people have seen your tits already.”

“And, here’s to five million more,” you mused, holding your own glass up to clink it against Wooyoung’s and San’s, and a couple other drunk models that sat around the VIP lounge. After you downed your drink, you got up, wobbling a bit. “I have to piss. I’ll be right back.”

“Hurry back, okay? We have to take more celebratory shots!” San shouted at you as he watched you give him an ‘okay’ sign, before you disappeared into the large, sweaty crowd.

Little did you know, a cat and mouse game had begun inside that overcrowded club, your trek to a bathroom that didn’t already have someone pissing or fucking inside it no longer a solo adventure. Seonghwa weaved in between patrons, following close behind you, his dark gaze alone deterring anyone from trying to stop him and get in his pants.

It was when you found a lone, empty bathroom that he knew it was his time to strike, to teach you a much needed lesson, to show you who was really on top.

You barely had a chance to check the current state of your makeup when Seonghwa came barging in, pinning you to one of the sinks before you could catch your breath. “S-Seonghwa? What are you doing here?”

“Don’t act surprised now, you slut,” Seonghwa spat, shoving one of his thighs in between yours, his high heel clicking lightly against the tile floor below. He leaned in so close you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You thought you could beat me, yeah? Thought you could parade around like a whore and take my place? Take what’s rightfully mine?”

The more you tried to resist him, the more he shoved his thigh into your barely clothed core, the friction causing a small gasp to leave your lips. Not wanting to give in, you reached up to caress the huffing man’s cheek, smiling sweetly up at him. “Oh, sweetie, is this about Hongjoong? Are you upset that you can taste my wet cunt on his cock when you suck him off?”

Seonghwa suddenly grabbed you by the throat, his grip just tight enough to make your head go fuzzy, leaning in just close enough that his lips ghosted over yours, chuckling lightly at the strained moan that escaped your parted lips. “You’re such a goddamn brat…Why is that? Is it because you want me to put you in your place, Y/N?”

At this point in time, you were so wet, you were actively leaving a wet patch on Seonghwa’s expensive suede pants, unable to keep more sounds of pleasure from bubbling out of your tight throat when Seonghwa grabbed your hip with his free hand and began to actively drag your cunt across his thigh, able to feel his straining cock pressing into your heat.

“Answer my question, whore…Or are you that empty-headed already? Got cock on the brain?” Seonghwa questioned, hooking his fingers into the hem of your pants and pulling them off of you, not surprised to see your cunt in all its glistening glory, positioning you back onto his thigh so that you could eagerly grind yourself along it.

“Please fuck me. Fuck me like you hate me, Seonghwa,” you asked in between breaths, holding desperately onto his shoulders, incidentally pulling his thin blazer from his shoulders, revealing his perfect, glowing skin underneath.

“I do hate you. I hate your fucking guts,” Seonghwa growled, suddenly ripping your blouse completely open, grabbing and groping at your tits, squeezing your nipples roughly between his ringed fingers.

“Then rearrange them,” you growled back, grabbing either side of his jaw, the both of you meeting in the middle, your heated kiss consisting more of teeth and tongue than anything else.

Seonghwa lifted you up onto the sink, fumbling with his designer belt, encouraging you to reach down and help him pull it off for him, feeling his heavy cock drop into your hands. He groaned into your open mouth when you began to jerk him off, breaking the rough kiss to begin attacking your neck, making sure he left you with pretty purple bruises on your sensitive skin.

“Fuck, Seonghwa…” you moaned, hooking your thighs around his impossibly slim waist, feeling him starting to rub the length of his cock across your aching cunt, the pronounced ridge of his cockhead repeatedly hooking onto your clit. “Do you have a condom?”

Seonghwa shook his head, cementing one hand around your waist, guiding the head of his cock into your tight entrance, your inner walls straining to take someone of his size inside. “You’re going to take my cock like a good slut, yeah? Going to let me fuck you raw, aren’t you?”

“Nnngh, n-no one fucks me raw, not even Hongjoong,” you whimpered pathetically, wrapping your arms around his neck, holding him impossibly close, unable to do anything but take Seonghwa’s hot, pulsing length inside you inch by inch, about to melt into a puddle by the time he was fully sheathed inside you.

“Well, aren’t I a lucky man?” Seonghwa purred softly into your ear, just as he began bucking his hips up into you, reaching up to create a makeshift ponytail with your hair, tugging it each time he brought you down onto his cock, unable to keep himself from letting out a few breathy laughs of pure satisfaction, due to watching you completely fall apart inside his arms. “You like this, brat? No one’s fucked you on their cock like this, have they? No one’s ever treated you like the shameless cum dump you are. What a shame…”

“S-eong-hwa…!” you gasped, unable to speak with the way your breath was getting punched out of you each time the furious model slammed himself back into you, swearing he was going to bruise your cervix with such rough treatment — and you couldn’t have been wetter. “Please…!”

“Please, what? No, you know what? I don’t even want to hear what you have to say. Now, open your fucking mouth,” Seonghwa grunted in between brutal thrusts, reaching up in between your sweaty, disheveled bodies to force your jaw open, sending a wad of spit directly down your throat, feeling your cunt clench around him when he did. “Oh, you like that? Of course you do.”

“Aaah,” you whined, letting your tongue hang out of your mouth, feeling almost completely blissed out when Seonghwa sent another wad of saliva onto your tongue, the both of you watching it drip down, before you swallowed it. “Gonna cum…”

“Course you are, you pathetic little cock slut…” Seonghwa reached down to rub his thumb roughly against your clit, still pounding into you with so much vigor, he had to time his breathing so that he didn’t get too lightheaded, routinely blowing wet locks of hair out of his focused eyes. “I’m going to cum too…going to fill this whore cunt with my load. Fill you up so deep, I’ll knock you up…I’ll own you…”

It was then that you began to cry, holding onto Seonghwa so tightly your fingers cramped up, your lower half cramping up in a similar fashion, feeling your warm arousal soak the both of you, allowing Seonghwa to slip in and out of you even easier than before. “Cum…inside…make me yours, Seonghwa…” you whispered, finally submitting to the man that you had been fighting with for who knows how long, about to willingly let him pump a baby into you.

If only your friends could see you now. They’d probably livestream it and give the audience a play by play from the sidelines, those sick fucks. You loved them for it.

“Hey, eyes on me. Don’t fade out just yet, not while your tight little slut hole is milking me dry,” Seonghwa mumbled against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip to catch your attention. He slid out fully and slipped back in one more time, holding you completely still, letting out groan after groan as he pumped his cum into you, not stopping until every last drop made it into your womb. He grabbed your hand and pressed it to your heaving abdomen, making you feel the pouch he created inside you, giving you butterflies from the sensation. “Feel that, Y/N? That’s the proof of my ownership. You’re no longer a mindless slut for just anyone’s cock, are you?”

“No…” you murmured, shaking your head, so dizzy from being fucked into submission that you simply leaned forward and rested your head against his heated shoulder. “I’m yours, Seonghwa…”

Seonghwa felt a sudden swell of pride inside his chest, his brain and body tingling with pleasure, like he was back on stage again, surrounded by a crowd of people that praised him, that so desperately wanted what he had to offer. He hugged you close, pressing his lips against your ear, his lips forming a soft smile. “Say that again.”

You smiled into Seonghwa’s neck, almost not wanting to let go of him, an unfamiliar warmth that rudely accompanied your hatred now present within your chest. “Now, let’s not get carried away.”

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nanamis-bigtie · 25 days ago

Text

party circle

↬ choso, geto, gojo & ino x afab!reader | lucid love ↬ lucid love masterlist // jjk masterlist // ao3 version

cw: smut, reader has a vagina (more detailed description of genitalia), college au, drunk sex, cumdumpster (reader on receiving end), group sex, piv sex, blow job, rough sex, reader is called "doll" and "thing", sprinkle of degradation and dumbification summary: you've been dared to offer yourself as a cumdumpster during a party - and you're not a wimp. you haven't expected what kind of team is going to pay you a visit word count: 2.6k a/n: yes, i am aware this text is squeezed, i have run myself against my own word limit and i still crossed it ahem tag list: @thesacredfanfics

After an hour in almost complete darkness, doing nothing but staring at the ceiling, you start to wonder if this all wasn't just a mean, drunk prank. Or another stupid test of courage, company's favorite. The party downstairs is flickering out, the voices and steps are fading, and none are heading towards you, lying half-naked in the host's guest bedroom and slowly going cold. Your heart is still fluttering like crazy and you're perking your ears for any sound nearby, but the level of your excitement is inexorably heading towards disappointment. All the commotion for nothing.

If not for your pride—and gut feeling telling you someone is secretly watching the door in case you chicken out—you would have already pulled your bottoms back up and returned to the living room. A bet is a bet, it still counts as won if someone else wimps out.

But eventually someone does come. More than one person even, you soon realize when the voices become more distinct, and you can pick some words. A few men are climbing the stairs, bantering on their way and laughing, one of them rather reluctant, you assume by the constant harsh chatter and steps heading downstairs from time to time. You can't follow the conversation but after a few tugs back and forth, you learn there are four of them, and at least one of the voices is... too familiar. Your heart, racing a moment ago, sinks; if it's someone from your class or the club, you're done for. You thought you're a solo player here, you got into the party with the invitation of a friend from outside of your college circle, and all the faces you passed by tonight were all new to you. But with so many guests gathered in a spacious house, the probability of running into someone you knew wasn't that close to zero.

When the men finally make it to the floor and stop in front of the door, you almost stop breathing. Are they looking for a free bathroom—or are they here for you? The uncertainty tears you apart the stronger, the more conflicted your thoughts grow. You don't want to find out the hard way if someone you know is in this group. But...you don't really want them to be gone, either. If you already mustered courage and offered yourself as a free-to-use party dumpster, drunk brain or not, not making that one crucial step would haunt you like a ghost. Were you surrounded by cowards? Or assholes who couldn't appreciate your body? No, with the number of advances made on you tonight, you can't really deem yourself unappreciated.

The shade of unanswered questions would remain, though. But luckily for you, the problem quickly solves itself.

"C'mon, man, don't be such a wimp." This voice is not the familiar one but comes from so close that you could swear the man is standing right by the bed. "It's likely just a stupid joke anyway."

The answer is too dull for you to understand and soon it drowns in laughter. The door creaks open, just enough to let a narrow wisp of light sneak into the room. You narrow eyes, blinded after such a long time in darkness, but you can pick silhouettes of four men peeking inside over each other. All stare right at the exposed and illumined part of your body: your left leg and hip, your cunt, and a bit of your torso and face. Instinct yells at you to cover yourself, you spread your legs wider instead, with no word spoken and hoping your guests have enough sober brain cells to connect the dots.

"It's...not a joke." The man from the previous line stands right in the front and his voice falters a little. The other right behind his back, shamelessly resting chin on his shoulder, whistles with appreciation.

"Hey, Kamo, you're in luck today," he turns around and flicks the light on. "I think that's Y/N."

Kamo? Choso Kamo? Why HIM of all familiar people who possibly could wander into this party?

You're hanging on a string of hope that maybe, just maybe, there are more guys going by this family name, and the one here is not Choso, your club crush, but once your eyes get used to light and all four of them step inside, you understand how screwed you are even before they pull their dicks out.

It is Choso, the reluctant one, leaning against the door with arms crossed and looking everywhere but at your face, his own scarlet red to the tips of his ears. But what's even worse, you recognize the other three as well.

Suguru Geto, probably the most wanted man at your college, skimming your figure curiously from his spot at the front.

Leaning against him, Satoru Gojo, the star of the football team and his best friend, currently shamelessly staring right at your cunt.

More reserved than those two but as interested Takuma Ino, your friend's ex fuck buddy and a notorious party animal.

"It's been a while, huh?" He's the one who tries to initiate conversation, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to another. "This is not some crazy prank, right?"

"A bet, I heard." You understand now why Satoru has always been described as equally weird and handsome; the way his gaze is drilling into you sends shivers down your spine. And you can't decide if you hate it...or quite contrary.

With Choso staying behind, the men surround the bed, and you can't shake off the impression that they're cornering you like prey. Neither of them pounces on you though, the awkward tension almost unbearable—but at the same time clearly exciting for everyone involved. With initial shock fading away, replaced by the same excitement that prompted you to boldly announce in which room you're waiting for anyone as brave as you, you're slowly getting back into the groove. Racing heart pumps hot blood into the right veins, simmering lust perks its head up, your muscles relax and allow you to spread your legs as far as you can. Invitingly, you hope, and from the surrounding faces you can read you're understood well.

"Alright, doll, we gotta turn you around, or our virgin won't budge from his place." Satoru shamelessly pulls you to the edge of bed, then flips you face down. Another pair of hands helps you lift your hips until you find a comfortable and stable position.

"Shit, look at that..." Wooden floor creaks as one of them kneels down, his breath so hot against your exposed slit. He traces it with a thumb, gently, but enough to make your breathing heavier. "All wet and ready."

Someone else's big and warm hands knead your ass and spread your cheeks open. Curious thumb grazes your clit, long fingers slide inside you, two at once, and reach so deep your eyes roll into the back of your head. Long wait has worked up your appetite, your heat has built itself up steady and exploded as soon as your cunt has been touched. They soon grow bolder too, encouraged by your dripping slick and noises you make. The banter and dirty praises melt into white noise behind your back, mixed with the clicks of unbuckled belts and pants shoved down to the ankles.

Someone's impatient cock slots itself against your rim, steals a shallow, wet thrust, followed by laughter from the other two. The eager one is pulled away, hungry hands leave your cunt empty and pulsing, not without a disappointed whine of yours. You wiggle your hips, the craving of being filled stronger than the prior awkwardness and your pride.

"Virgins come first." It's Takuma's voice that breaks through the white noise.

A few steps creak back, there's a short tussle and the fourth man is forced to come closer. In the last moment of clear-headedness, your heart skips a beat; you fight against the instinct to look back at Choso. You've been turned around for a reason, despite temptation you want to respect it. You can't control the excited spasm of your cunt, though, much to men's loud enthusiasm.

"C'mon, don't make Y/N wait."

There's hesitation in Choso's touch. He reaches for you with both hands, just tracing your ass and hips at first, before he gives your curve the first, testing squeeze. You hear him groan, sound barely audible yet standing out with its characteristic timbre. You would recognize this knee-melting voice everywhere—and in this situation you react to it hundreds times stronger. You shove your hips back, bumping against his crotch, feeling the outline of his erection through his pants.

He groans again, nails sinking into your skin almost painfully.

Someone helps him with his pants when he's holding on to you for his dear life. He lets go of you with one hand, just enough to line himself up and guide his awkward thrusts towards your entrance. Clumsiness and need behind his moves drive you crazy; he's really losing his v-card with you, just like that, watched by his friends, drunk, with a party toy you've become. And as much as you want to make it easier for him, as soon as his throbbing length slots itself in you, finally easing the itching craving, you squeeze him tight and push your hips against him.

You want everything he can offer, the sooner, the better.

"Fuck..." Choso mutters through clenched teeth, his pulse running crazy as you clench again, stronger. He won't last long, you can tell as much despite the fever overpowering every single one of your senses. Fuck, indeed. The thought of milking him dry so early adds fuel to burning fire; you take over the situation and grind against him, forcing him to follow suit with his awkward, desperate thrusts, until he suddenly stills and fills you up, with the most pathetic, beautiful moan you've heard from a man.

He starts leaning over your back, his hot breath nearly brushing against your skin, but he's pulled away as fast as he's been dragged to mount you. A different hand kneads your ass; it's Takuma, you guess from the breathy whimper he lets out when he's sliding the head of his cock between your wet folds. He doesn't lose his time either, soon filling your hungry cunt again and rutting inside, short but deep and strong thrusts.

"Squeezin' tight," he growls, shifting the weight and balance of your bodies forward. He places one hand on your back and pushes you down, forcing you to arch your hips and take him even deeper.

You risk a glance over your shoulder. Vision hazy and set under a weird angle, you can't see much but Takuma's face, flushed and beaming with pleasure, and Satoru peeking curiously at your entrance, working hard to swallow every single one of the thrust. He's stroking himself, the tip of his tongue peeking through his lips, so engrossed by the show he's almost bearing down on Takuma's back. Neither of them seem to notice, only one goal on their minds.

You're almost brought to your high this time but Takuma is there first, his last thrust almost tripping you over with the unexpected power. You end up pushed into the mattress, the sights mercilessly yanked away from you, and the next man in line doesn't give you a chance to collect himself.

Satoru is much bigger than the other two. His size takes you by surprise; you mewl loud at the sudden stretch, then almost scream when he slots himself so deep that he's poking at your cervix. He doesn't show you mercy at all, both hands holding your hips in place as he's fucking the brain out of you like a jackhammer. It's brutal, it's almost painful, it's so fucking good you're moaning and crying at the same time. The stretch and friction are frying your nerves; you're yanked into orgasm with his thrusts alone, and he doesn't stop even for a second, instead forcing you to stay still, one foot resting at the edge of the bed. Against his strength, you're nothing but a puppet, a sex toy he's moving with no regards for your state.

But even he has limits and soon you're again filled to the brim. You're not able to hold it inside any longer, the mix of cum and your juices drips out of your used hole as your legs tremble, without the support soon to collapse. The last man comes to your aid, his hold is surprisingly tender but as strong as Satoru's. He takes his time, the privilege of the last in the queue, making sure you're stable and collected before he steals the first thrust, shallow, just enough to slide his tip against the mess.

You're trembling from just this little, so overstimulated you're seeing white even without orgasm.

"You poor thing," Suguru coos and traces free hand against your sweaty back. "He's ruined you so much, that monster."

Satoru scoffs, the mattress dips by your side as he throws himself right next to you. He holds your chin and forces you to look at him. The sadistic, almost maniac, look in his terrifying eyes has your cunt fluttering.

"Be careful, poor thing," he mimics Suguru and slides a thumb between your lips. "He's the real monster here."

In contrast, Suguru moves so gently it's...frustrating. He gathers the cum leaking out of you with the head of his cock before he slides it into you slow and deep, then stills until frustration takes over you and makes you find some power to press hips against him.

He clicks his tongue, laughter shadowing over his words, "Don't be like that. You need to savor your strength."

Suguru moves so slow, terrifying with his precision for the first time he's having you. He touches you more than just having you in place, he traces your sides, back, nape, pinches your nipples and meticulously wanders down again, between your shaking thighs. You almost choke on sharp inhale when he rubs your clit, your mewls held back by Satoru's thumb fucking your mouth, then by his big tongue sliding deep inside. Looking for breath, you try to shake him off—Suguru's hold, fingers knotted tight in your hair, forces you to stay still, until you're shaking and melting, and Satoru has to withdraw.

"Don't be too rough," Takuma is on your other side, sounding concerned but still stroking himself, as far as you're aware by the sounds.

"We're just playing." Suguru's voice is sweet like honey, soft and comforting—and you believe him, let him coax you into comfort before he shows his true colors again and yanks you up and straight by your hair.

Eyes filled with tears, you try to support yourself on trembling arms and ease the tension in your scalp and neck. Merciless hand guides you to other side, right into Choso's cock poking at your lips. You catch a glimpse of his face, bright pink with a blush but his eyes are dark with lust, gaze fixed at your tongue instinctually lolled out of your mouth. Takuma nudges him closer, almost forces him to slip himself into you, the tip of his dick poking at the back of your throat and making you gag.

Satoru's hand replaces Suguru's; he uses your head to get Choso off as the other man speeds up his thrusts, using your cunt without any mercy now. He pulls almost completely out right before he cums, his seed leaking out of your used hole. Next in line Takuma doesn't bother to shove it back, his thrusts push more of it out, the whole mess dripping on the sheets.

I need to pay for cleaning, the last thought crosses your mind before it gives in to pleasure—no, to ecstasy, no more sanity, just waves of your high washing over you over and over again as their cocks fill your cunt and mouth in turns and you're nothing but a trembling mess.

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