#i wanna put this man in my mouth and shake him around and drop him on the ground and rip him to shreds

[smidgen-of-hotboy]

"I may have said things to you that I invented Pete, but I have never lied to you."

relistening to junoverse, specifically nureyev lore heavy eps, and thinking about how honesty is the biggest thing Nureyev values. thinking about how he doesn't want to lie to Juno, he'd rather not say anything or run away. thinking about how he flits between aliases and how he comes back to being Peter Ransom.

[maiiuelle]

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆ ˚｡⋆

“take off your top.” the man on the couch across from you barks with a toothy grin, prying eyes focused on you as he puts a bottle of beer to his lips.

you know rafe doesn’t like playing games at his parties. it’s so below him, he’d rather sit back and relax, for once leaving the chaos up to everyone else. in the comfort of his own home he can truly let loose. now that tannyhill is technically his, he couldn’t care less if someone breaks one of the gauche vases rose picked out, or puts a hole in one of the walls — he’s too busy seizing the opportunity to drink, smoke, or snort whatever he pleases.

you like it when he’s chill, it gives you the opportunity to get exactly what you want out of him. you caught him at the perfect time — nursing a drink, swirling the brown liquid in his glass as he nodded along to something topper was saying. you seized the moment, attaching yourself to his side. “come on, rafey! please, it’ll be fun!” you bounced like a little bunny, slipping your hand in his to sweeten the deal. “please, please, please — i don’t wanna play by myself.”

“nah, babe. truth or dare? that’s some fuckin’ high school shit.”

“please, just this once?” you press your cheek against his arm, pushing your cherry-glossed lips into a pout.

that’s how you end up perched on his lap, your boyfriend tucked comfortably into the couch on his porch. you’re really regretting it all now, the feeling of everyones eyes on you makes your skin crawl. you wish you could just disappear, caught like a deer in headlights, sputtering as you peer around the room.

rafe breathes out a laugh, and the room quiets in anticipation. he adjusts his position to lean forward, his hand squeezing your thigh like a stress ball.

“what’d you say?”

“i think everyone heard me.” the boy gawks, still watching you.

“that’s funny.”

“i’m not joking. it’s the game, bro.”

your face feels red hot, matching the heat you feel radiating from rafe. you’re afraid to move, your eyes only shifting to your boyfriends face, who you’ve never seen so angry.

“nah, nah, you’re real funny, man.” he hooks his hand under one of your legs, the other arm around your back to lift you up off his lap, dropping you haphazardly on the couch cushion beside the two of you as he pushes himself out of the seat to confront the kid.

“rafe!”

he’s already got the boy by the collar by the time topper and kelce try to stop him, your hands fly over your mouth as you watch it all unfold before you. rafe shakes him, “you’re a comedian, huh? you think i’m about to let you disrespect not only me, but my girl, in my fuckin’ house?” he raises his voice, everyone else completely silent as he shoves the kid toward the door. “take that shit somewhere else, get the fuck out.”

rafe’s shoulders heave, watching the boy scamper away with his tail between his legs before he turns around, looking at you. “game’s over, let’s go.” he cocks his head, and you jump out of your seat to follow him, leaving the room stuck in a stunned silence.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ ᡣ𐭩 ⋆ ˚｡⋆

[rafey-baby]

hidden

outlaw!rafe holding pogue!reader hostage in her own house after banging his fist on her door in the middle of a stormy night, demanding to be let in with a gun in hand and wild waves in the sea of his eyes…

18+ mdni!

c/w: outlaw!rafe being mean and manipulative, mentions of murder, violence & other dark themes, he’s also weirdly soft in the end?

wc: 2k

he's been stuck in my head for a while so hope u enjoy xx

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

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

There’s still sleep dust lingering in her lashes when she hesitantly cracks open the oak door at 3 am— revealing a tall, scary man with scarlet stains on his big hands, white button up saturated in maroon and a scowl painted over his unsettling countenance.  

She stands there like a deer in headlights, unmoving as he stares down at her with arctic eyes as chilling as the frigid waters surrounding an iceberg.  

At first, she thinks she’s still asleep, tired brain conjuring up some creepy murderer scenario where she’s the idiot who does everything the audience in the movie theater is screaming at her not to.

But as she properly blinks her sleepy eyes open, she comes to the realization that this is not a horror film and this intimidating stranger (with oddly appealing features) who’s definitely just killed someone is very much real.  

She’s about to open her mouth and she’s not sure whether she was going to scream for help or simply stare at him with her mouth hung open in shock but she doesn’t get the chance to find out before he’s pasting a massive palm over her mouth.  

“Don’t make a sound,” his low mutter makes a shiver run down her spine. 

And she doesn’t, instead she just blinks, too out of it to even move a muscle; the reek of the dried blood on his hand hitting her nose, making her face scrunch up. And she doesn’t know why she’s not putting up any sort of a fight, blaming it on the fact that half of her brain is still swimming in the lake of her dreamland; soaking up the glittering sunbeams that never dull and dipping its toes in the grass that consists of misty nebula and twinkling stars. 

And he’s just so mean, ordering her around with a gun to her head, manhandling her around to his liking, grumbling about needing to stay at her house for a bit since he needs a hiding place from the cops after dumping a body somewhere in the ocean and getting caught. Apparently, his temper really just got the best of him at times.  

“I didn’t even mean to kill the guy, alright. He just kept pissing me off on purpose and I was provoked, what was I supposed to do?” He offers as an explanation that seems to do very little to soothe her overstrung heart that’s thudding in her ribcage. It’s loud enough for him to hear; almost as if she’s a terrified rabbit and he’s a big bad wolf, hunting down his prey.  

“I’m taking a shower now, and you’re not gonna move an inch, you understand? Cause if you do, I’m gonna have to hurt you, and I really don’t wanna do that, okay?” 

She nods her head, unable to form any coherent sentences. 

He takes note of the way her inhale gets caught in her throat when he steps closer to her, inquiring whether she lives alone or not, to which she just nods her head again.  

“Dumb girl”, he tuts, shaking his head in disapproval. “When someone’s knocking on your door in the middle of the night you don’t fucking open, alright?”  

She’s making it entirely too easy for him.  

The second he’s in her bathroom, she forces her exhausted brain to think; quickly coming up with a rickety plan as she listens to the water streaming down from behind the door. She waits for a moment, making sure the coast is clear before she bolts towards her bedroom, trembling fingers grabbing her phone from her nightstand and trying to dial 911.  

However, her shaky hands don’t help her one bit when they drop the phone; the clattering sound of it hitting the floor echoing in the quietness of the room.  

She can’t breathe, her brain short-circuits as she bends down, reaching for the wretched device that has somehow tumbled under her bed. However, when she finally catches it in an unsteady grip, she hears the shower turn off; an eerie stillness following. In her state of panic, she fruitlessly tries to turn it back on and call for help but it’s proving to be harder than she thought when her lungs decide to stop working, her respiration shallow and her heartbeat ringing in her ears.  

“Boo,” a low whisper right behind her makes her blood run cold; a shiver traveling down her spine as she slightly jumps, a faint gasp leaving her.  

“Why did you just do that, huh? Told you, didn’t wanna fucking hurt you and then you go and pull this shit,” a strong hand is gripping her by her throat as he turns her around to face him.  

“I’m sorry, I...I don’t—” she’s paralyzed, unable to move.  

“You don’t what, huh?” He stares into her horror-stricken eyes with an almost bored look, seemingly entirely indifferent to her torment.  

“Can’t…can’t breathe,” her voice is nearly inaudible, making a grim chuckle bubble out of his chest.  

“Can’t breathe? Maybe you should’ve thought about that before, yeah?” He scoffs, cruel words mocking her.  

“You’re so fucking stupid, want me to kill you, is that what you want?” He grits out as he squeezes at her neck, making her feel dizzy; gasping for air.  

“No! No, please. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Won’t— won’t do it again, promise, I’ll do anything—” she manages to force out as he’s nearly crushing her windpipe in his unrelenting grip.  

“Anything, huh? That’s real tempting and all but what I need you to do is not pull stupid shit like this, you understand?”  

“I won’t, I promise. You can...stay here for as long as you want and I’ll help, okay?” she thinks she’s gonna pass out soon, stars peppering behind her fluttering lids and her weakened limbs starting to feel heavy. His coarse panting fills her eardrums as he seems to contemplate her offer for a moment.  

“If you even think about running to the cops tonight, I’m gonna fucking find you, you understand?” 

She’s frantically nodding her head and at last, his hold begins to loosen around her trachea, allowing for her greedy lungs to finally suck in air as she takes a step back, trying to even out her respiration.  

He doesn’t say anything, silently observing her as she clears her throat, swallowing a few times as she tries to pacify her racing heart and calm the thoughts running around her head; trying to reassure herself that she’s still alive and she will stay that way if she just doesn’t rile him up anymore.  

He notices how her rounded eyes look up at him as he stands before her, smelling like her honey-scented body wash and orange blossom shampoo, nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, leaving very little to her imagination as the room grows quiet.  

“What’s— um…what’s your name?” Her voice is creaky when she tries a different approach once she feels the flat floorboards under her wobbly feet again, a nervous hesitation overlaying her precarious question.  

“Don’t worry about it,” he simply dismisses her, but a small pout molds her mouth as she stares at him and he lets out a discontented sigh, rolling his eyes.  

“Rafe,” he finally responds, not bothering to ask for hers, seemingly not caring enough for it. She tells him, nonetheless and he laughs at her priorities. A literal criminal has broken into her home and she cares about fucking introductions.  

“So…have you— have you killed anyone else?” She doesn’t know why she’s trying to make small talk with him but she supposes if she gets him to talk about something, choking her to death won’t be at the forefront of his mind anymore.  

“You seriously wanna know?” He raises his brows. 

She thinks about it for a moment and then settles on shaking her head, followed by a harsh chuckle rumbling out from his sturdy chest.  

“So, uh— what is it that you do? Like besides…killing people and stuff?” She tries once more.  

“Look, the less you know, the better, alright?” He simply states, making her let out a soft sigh in defeat.  

All of a sudden, a vigorous thunder crackles behind her windows, an ablaze lightning illuminating her dimly lit bedroom soon after.  

She flinches at the sound and the sinister way it momentarily lights up his face.  

“You scared of a little storm?” He feigns concern as he peers down at her.  

“N— no,” she lies, forcing her face to stay neutral, hesitant about him finding out her weaknesses.  

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe, yeah?” The mocking grin on his face causes a shudder to travel through her as she swallows, wishing this was all just a nightmare she could wake up from.  

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

After that little incident, he thinks that she’s just as sweet as sugar, offering to make him tea and asking if he wants a blanket or an extra pillow so he’d be more comfortable sleeping on the couch.  

He can tell that she’s merely doing it because she’s terrified of him, which she should be. Nonetheless, he thinks it feels nice to be pampered, doted on; to have a pretty girl following his orders like a trained puppy. Makes him figure he's gonna enjoy his stay just fine.  

The following morning though, he’s woken up by her shaky figure standing next to his own tired form, pointing his gun at him.  

His softened bones feel mellow from the sleep and he lets out a sigh, rubbing at his sleepy eyes and shifts to sit on the couch cushions; teasingly lifting his hands up in surrender. 

“Puppy’s got a gun, huh? Trying to be all tough now, are we?” There’s a lazy smile on his face.  

“I— I want you to…leave,” she says, voice rickety and words unsure.  

And he’s trying to take her serious, he really is, but it’s proving to be a little difficult since she resembles a scared little kitten more than someone who knows what they’re doing.  

“You want me to leave? Maybe you should work on your pitch, I’m not very convinced, you know?” The exasperating smirk plastered on his face makes her brows crease.  

“Rafe, this is not a joke,” a scowl shades her face and he thinks she looks rather adorable.  

“Come on, Puppy. You’re not gonna shoot me. You don’t even know how to use that thing, do you?” His voice is even; she hesitates. 

“Well, it can’t be that…complicated?” It’s more of a question than a statement and he really can’t keep the chuckle from bubbling out of his throat. Her frown deepens.  

“Why don’t you give it to me, yeah? You don’t want death on your conscience. Would break you, you’re too soft for that shit.”  

“You don’t— know me.” 

“I know you enough,” he says, finally standing on his feet. He takes a slow step towards her and she squeezes the gun tighter in her trembling fingers.  

“If I give it to you, you’re gonna— you’re gonna…kill me. I don’t wanna die,” her words are hysterical, rushed.  

“Now who said anything about killing you? Look, if you give me the gun right now, I’m not gonna do anything. I give you my word, alright?” He’s towering over her, solid chest nearly grazing the barrel.  

“I don’t trust you,” her voice is a whisper.  

“I know, Pup. But I also know that you’re not gonna use that,” his steady hands are a contrast to her own precarious ones when he grabs for the firearm, slipping it from her weak fingers with ease.  

“There we go, no need to be so fucking theatrical, yeah?” He lowers his head in order to lock his eyes with her frenzied ones.  

“See? Not hurting you, am I?”  

She manages out a hum of agreement and then her waterline is brimming with water, salty droplets trickling down her cheeks as she chokes out a sob. “I’m sorry. I don’t—”  

“Hey, hey it’s all good. Mistakes happen, yeah?” He says and then his strong arms are wrapping around her trembling form because he’s not a complete monster and for some reason that makes her weep harder.  

Her crocodile tears wet his shirt but he doesn’t seem to mind, big paw rubbing against her back. And it’s almost…comforting, she thinks as he starts to sway her from side to side, like he’s trying to calm down a crying child.  

“There you go, just let it all out and maybe you can chill out a bit, yeah? You Pogues can be so fucking dramatic sometimes,” he pats at her back, rolling his eyes as she takes in shaky inhale after shaky inhale until she’s feeling slightly more placid.  

“Shit, if I’d known you were such a crybaby I would’ve picked another house,” he grumbles, pulling away from her weakened form, pushing her back to stumble on her feet; setting the gun back on the coffee table with a clank. 

[sturns-4-life]

Cut it: M.S

Summary: Matt's on live while you're laying on his bed, bored. You decide you want to tease him. And boy is that fun.

Warnings: unprotected sex, bratty!reader, rough dom!Matt, use of y/n, pet names(I think), rough sex, degrading, slight praise, doggy style, missionary, spanking, slapping. Lmk if I missed anything!

Requested? || Yes by @solarsturniolo

Word count: 1,042

I don't know how this happened but it did. And I'm currently getting eaten out by Matt as if he were a starving man.

𝙁𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠…

"Fuck!" I hear Matt yell from dying in his game. I roll my eyes and continue scrolling away on TikTok.

Matt has been playing games with Nate and Chris (Nick's with Madi at the mall) for who knows how long.

"Matt, you know you have a girl in your bed? Most people would love that fact and at least give her five minutes of attention.”

All he says back is. 'in a sec, one more game' for the tenth time. "You said that an hour ago!" I say in a whiny tone.

"It hasn't been an hour, you're being dramatic." I roll my eyes as he says that. His eyes never leave the screen for a second.

Suddenly I get an idea. I walk up to him from behind and hug him; his camera on Discord isn't on, so no one can see what's going on.

I purposely drop my phone under the desk. "Oops, sorry." I say to him as I go under the desk to 'grab my phone'.

As I'm 'picking up my phone', I start to slowly slide my hand up his thigh. "Y/n, stop." I look up at him with the most innocent look ever. "Stop what?”

He looks down at me, I can tell he's pissed. Then looks back at the game. I move my hand to his crotch and start rubbing it. "Y/n." I ignore him.

I slip my hand into his sweatpants and start to slowly pull them down. "Y/n, don't start." I once again ignored him. As I start palming him through his boxers.

"Y/n, 𝙘𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙩." Still ignoring him, I start to slowly pull his boxers down, as I hear him let out a soft moan.

"We moanin' now?" I hear Nate say with a laugh, as Chris laughs with him. "Shut the fuck up." I wrap my hand around his length.

"Y/n, I'm serious. you don't want me to have to teach you a lesson, do you?" I roll my eyes. "You won't do shit." That was it.

He pulls me up onto his lap and mutes his mic. "You wanna be a little whore and pull that shit when I'm talking to my friends, you gonna get fucked like one.”

He sits me on his desk and starts to pull my shorts down. "Mat-" "-Shut up, slut.”

𝙀𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠…

"Matt! Fuck." I move my hand to the back of his head pushing him deeper. “Hands by your sides or I swear I'll tie them up.”

“But I don't wanna!” I say in a whiny tone, again. I watch as he gets up and grabs handcuffs and a rope.

Why does he have that? I don't know. But I do know I'm in deep shit. “Matt, no. I'll stop.”

“Too late.” He grabs my wrists and cuffs them together. ”Matt!” “Stop fucking whining.” Where did it come from? I don't know, but he then puts a blindfold on me.

He picks me up and throws me onto his bed. Everything's quiet for a second, besides the sound of the front door opening and closing.

The sound of Madi and Nick's laughter fills the house. Matt then puts his hand over my mouth. “Don't make a fucking sound.”

Without warning I feel him pound into me, causing me to scream into his hand. “Fucking slut, told you to stay quiet, didn't I?”

Unable to form words at the time, I nod. “And did you stay quiet?” I shake my head ‘no’. The second I do I feel a hard slap to my cheek.

“Use your fucking words” “No! I didn't!” I feel him start to pick up his pace, his hand going down to rub my clit as I let out another moan.

“Fuck! I'm gonna cum.” No response. His pace quickened even more until he finally said. “Hold it.” I wanted to, I really did. But knowing how much it'll piss him off.

I still did it, letting out a loud moan as his movements came to a stop. Another slap landed on my cheek. “Did I say you can cum?”

I shake my head ‘no’, again. *𝗦𝗟𝗔𝗣* “Use your fucking words.” “No! No, you didn't.” *𝗦𝗟𝗔𝗣* “So why did you?” “I don't know–” *𝗦𝗟𝗔𝗣*

“Not an answer.” “I couldn't hold it!” *𝗦𝗟𝗔𝗣* “Fucking whore, turn around, baby.” Not wanting to piss him off more, I turn around. Face down, ass up.

*𝗦𝗟𝗔𝗣* I felt another hard smack again, but this time it wasn't on my face. But on my ass instead, feeling him pound back into me at the same time.

“Matt! Slow down!” With that, he quickened his pace. Causing me to let out a louder moan. “You want me to?” Another slap to my ass. “Yes! Fuck!” “You should have thought about that before you decided to be a whore and touch up on my dick while I'm talking to my friends.”

Another slap. I felt him grab onto my hands from behind as he quickened his pace even more. “Matt! I'm gonna cum!” “Hold it. I'm serious.” I let out a loud whine as he starts to rub my clit again. “I can't! Please.”

“Go ahead. Cum for me, baby.“ I let out a loud moan as I cum on his cock, feeling his pace quicken as he reaches his climax. Hot spurts of his load fills me up as he slowly pulls out.

“You did so good for me, baby” Unable to form words at that point I simply nod. My phone buzzed once, then twice. As I check my phone, I see two text messages.

One from Madi, one from Nick.

Fuck.

At least Matt's mic was muted. Well, that's what we thought.

Author's note! I lowkey hate this but it's for my baes 🤭 Chris and Matt anon

Tags: @immattsslut @tashasmywife @cindylcuwho @nicksgirlfriend

Dividers: @plutism

[shadesslut]

can i request a little ethan smut with a big size kink. man is 6'2

Thank you for your request! Enjoy!

fucktoy

MINORS DNI

Pairing: (Ethan Landry x Short!Fem!Reader)

Content Includes: (Size kink, smut)

Summary: Ethan just loves how small Y/N feels in his hands.

Masterlist

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✮

It was supposed to be a peaceful night for Y/N. A night full of reading and drinking wine, while listening to her music. She sighed in relaxation as she flipped to the next page. A loud crash came from the kitchen, and she flopped her book down on her lap, sighing. Ethan was working in her kitchen fixing the pipes under her sink. The noises had occurred for the past two hours, interrupting her every ten minutes. 

She huffed, swinging her legs off her bed as she stood up. She marched into the kitchen, crossing her arms over her sleep-shirt. “Are you almost done?” 

Ethan tilted his head from under the sink, his crooked smile showing as he saw her. He had grease on his face and white tee. 

“Almost, sorry,” Ethan said. 

“It’s okay. Hey, it’s getting late, maybe you should stop for tonight.” Y/N suggested, hoping Ethan would leave so she could continue her reading in silence. He glanced at the pipes one more time, and then back to her before sliding out. He stood up in front of her, towering over her. She gulped and stepped back. His shirt hugged his torso well, and Y/N let her eyes wander down to his hips. She felt small near him, the man was six feet tall. She had to crank her neck back to be able to make eye contact with him. 

“You gonna be okay?” Ethan softly asked, wiping his hands on the dirty rag in his hands. 

“Pft yeah, I can last one night without cleaning the dishes.” She chuckled, swatting her hand sarcastically. “You wanna use my shower?” She asked. She jokingly pinched her nose and squinted her eyes.

Ethan laughed with her, shaking his head. “Oh, whatever, and sure if you don’t mind.” He smiled. 

–

She waited anxiously on her bed as the shower ran, just finishing washing Ethan’s clothes. The thought of Ethan, naked, showering in her bathroom made her face warm. She tried not to think about it, trying desperately to read her book, but she had been on the same page for twenty minutes. She put her book down, and she glanced over at the bathroom door. 

Slowly, she reached under her blanket to her shorts. She gently applied pressure on her clit, softly gasping at her touch. She closed her eyes and thought of Ethan, thought about showering with him. If he would kiss her as he rubbed soap over her breasts, or if he wouldn’t clean at all and just pound into her against the wall.

She quietly whined his name as she touched herself, but quickly pulled her hand out once she heard the shower turn off. 

“Ah shit,” she heard his voice muffled. The door opened, and Y/N’s mouth dropped to the floor. Ethan awkwardly stepped out, towel wrapped loosely around his waist as he held it with one hand. His entire chest was revealed, showing off his glistening abs. A trail of dark hair rested right above his, well, you know, and his v-line was prominent. His hair was still sopping wet, and a few strands stuck out as it dripped water. 

“I’m so sorry, but you have my clothes.” Ethan spoke nervously. Y/N only stared, not processing anything Ethan had said. Ethan’s cheeks turned pink, and he shifted awkwardly. “Y/N? My clothes?” 

“Fuck-Sorry,” she whispered, reaching over to grab his neatly folded clothes. She held them out for him, and he smiled nervously as he walked over to her. He didn’t grab them though. He only stood above her, looking down at her. Her eyes were met with his upper stomach, the height difference making her knees go weak. “Ethan…?” She trailed off, looking up at him. 

He wore a desperate and hungry expression. Before she knew it, he pulled her to him by her hips, causing her to gasp in surprise. His clothes dropped from her hands, now long forgotten. She let out a muffled “Umph!” as Ethan forced his lips on hers. 

His lips moved in a desperate motion, as if she was water and he had been thirsty for a week. He was sloppy, not caring about perfecting his movements. She, on the other hand, was careful with hers. She traced her fingers along his stomach, barely grazing.  

Her fingers stopped at his happy trail, and she flicked her eyes downward. He noticed, and chuckled as he followed her gaze. 

“You want me to take the towel off or do you wanna shove your pretty little head under it?” Ethan whispered lowly, bending down, lips grazing her ear. She involuntarily whined. Never in her life had she felt this turned on. 

“Take it off,” she whispered, partly asking and partly telling him. He breathed heavily and stared at her as he unwrapped the towel, letting it fall to his ankles. Her eyes widened at his half-hard dick. He was far bigger than she imagined, and he wasn’t even fully hard. 

She was entranced, she never looked away for a second. Her eyes followed the vein that ran up the underside of his dick, finishing at his soft pink tip. He stood confidently, slightly leaning on his hip as he stared down her shirt. His hand grabbed at her chin, and he lifted her head up to meet his gaze. Pulling her towards him, he placed her hand on his shaft, squeezing his fingers around hers. 

His eyes closed at the pressure, and he smirked pridefully looking at her again, this time his eyes gazing at her lips. He kissed her on her neck, finding every sweet spot. She never noticed how small she felt in his hands, his hand covered her whole tit and some of her upper stomach. He had to arch his back over just to be able to reach her lips with his. 

She whined as she stroked him slowly. He was painfully hard. Her small fingers could barely wrap around him, and he thought it was the hottest thing ever. “You’re so small,” he whispered against her neck. 

“You’re so big,” she said, not referring to his height.

Ethan chuckled. Feeling exposed, Ethan started to raise the hem of her shirt up, pulling it over her head. He smiled, looking her up and down. “What?” she huffed as she started to become shy.

“I wonder how small your pussy is. You think I’ll fit?” He didn’t let her answer, only shoving her against the wall. She gasped, his hands flipping her around by her hips. He pulled her shorts and panties down, and he pressed his pelvis against her back. “So short, ‘m gonna have to hold you up,” he mumbled. 

He hooked her right leg onto the crook of his forearm, her knee sliding up the wall. She silently cursed in her head as she knew what she was about to go through. He softly kissed her shoulder, and whispered, “This okay?” 

She nodded, her cheek pressed against the wall. He inhaled deeply as he stuck his face into the crook of her neck. Slowly, he slid inside of her. 

The stretch was painful, but felt so good. “Too much,” she whined.

He only laughed, inching further inside her. “I think you can take a bit more, right?” He teased. She nodded obediently, and he thrusted all the way inside her.  He groaned as he slipped fully inside, his face growing hot. He fit beautifully in her cunt, stretching her enough to make her eyes water. His hands encircled her love handles and thigh, squishing her flesh. 

His muscular chest slid against the small of her back as he moved his hips. His arms flexed, his grip on her tightening by the second. “That’s it,” he grunted, slapping her ass. He slightly lifted her other leg up, her body now fully off the ground. She felt so small in his arms, like his little doll, his little plaything to fuck. “take my fucking cock,” 

She squeezed her eyes closed at the pleasure. She arched her back against him, gasping at the new angle he thrusted at. He hit her g-spot, and she unsubconsciously clenched around him, swallowing him even more. She felt her stomach feel weird, and she felt his cock twitching inside her. 

His hand reached to her stomach, lightly pressing down. He felt himself moving, smiling at how deep he was inside her. 

“Can feel me ripping you apart, baby.” 

She moaned in response. 

Wet, lewd noises filled her ears. Tears rolled down her cheeks as he continued to pound into her. It was too much for her, he was too big, too thick. She knew for sure she wouldn’t be able to walk tomorrow. 

“Yeah, oh fuck yeah,” he moaned, speeding up his pace. “‘M getting close,”

Her head threw back, and she opened her mouth at the speed of his pace. No one else would ever make her feel this good, and the fucker knew it. She reached behind her to rest her hand on his hips, lightly squeezing. “I’m gonna, gonna,”

He nodded frantically as he threw his own head back. He was fully pressed against her back, pushing her roughly against the wall. He rolled his hips into her, his hold on her small thighs slowly growing weaker and weaker. He looked at the hand that still rested on her belly bulge, and that was it for him. He came, and he came hard. He spewed inside of her, already feeling his liquid slide out of her. She didn’t finish, but she was satisfied. She only wanted to be a little fucktoy for Ethan. No regards to her needs, only his. 

He whimpered, pulling out, and immediately the white liquid rolled down her thigh. “Fuck,” she whispered watching it drip out of her cunt. Ethan’s forehead was pressed against her shoulder, his chest rising up and down.

“Next time,” he panted, then smiled. “I’m gonna tie you up,”

[paarksunghoon]

Hi I love your content so much I was wondering if you would to this that Jake mistakenly ordered few or one s.x toy that he would use on my later

ugh I’m so mad because I wrote this request, dropped my phone, then it disappeared. anyway hope you don’t mind I switched up the request juuuust a little.

***

Should he put it back where he found it?

Jake holds a baby blue bullet vibrator and inspects it in his hands. The whole reason why he’s in your room is because you asked him to grab a few pens from your desk before you started a study session. But now he’s discovered one of your toys and feels like he could be holding a bomb. He’d have to be a fool to pretend it isn’t a sex toy.

He gulps. Jake isn’t a stranger to this. He’s seen far too many Twitter porn videos to ignore the nature of the device and feels himself growing hotter with every passing second that ticks by. So begs the question: should he put it back where he found it?”

“Whatcha looking at?”

Jake turns around to see you standing in the doorway.

“N-Nothing!”

He panics when you step closer towards him and grab the vibrator from his hands. He watches you hold it up as if to inspect the toy, bringing it eye level until you finally look at him. Jake feels his cheeks warm up and looks down at the floor.

“Now, what are you doing with this?”

“I was just looking.”

“I asked you to grab some pens, not my vibrator.”

He wants to sink into the floor.

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have your sex toys lying around!”

The man before you swallows when you chuckle. “It’s my room, Jakey.”

He tries to picture you as you are, in your pajama bottoms and tank top with fuzzy pink slippers on your feet. You look respectable like this. You look like his friend who invited him over for yet another study session that will likely go late into the night.

Instead, all he can picture is you sitting naked on the middle of your bed with this toy pressed right up against you. Jake thinks about what you might look like when your face is contorted in pleasure and what you sound like when you come. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about that before now.

“What about all the guys you’ve been sleeping with?”

You shrug. “Some were good and others were mediocre. I need something to tie me over in between hooking up with people.”

His silence makes you laugh.

“Wanna see me use it?”

Jake finds himself rock hard and hovering over your body. He doesn’t have to wonder what you look like underneath your clothes anymore. They’re discarded somewhere on your bedroom floor and you’ve got the toy pressed right against your exposed slit.

He watches in wonder and amazement when you drag the toy over yourself and studies the way your eyes close shut and how your mouth parts open to emit soft pants. Jake doesn’t know if he should look at your face or pussy. He tries to do both.

Amidst his own inner turmoil, Jake feels you pull his hand to cover your own until he’s holding the device. It feels so foreign in his hands when you push it against your pussy but he loves the way you sound when it happens. Jake loves watching the wetness ooze out of you. He can feel the vibrations against his fingertips. It’s so hot.

He fidgets with the toy, dragging it all over your pussy like he’s trying to find the spots that make you tick. He memorizes all of them and indulges your pleasure every time you moan from beneath him.

Jake wonders how you’d react if he turned the volume up a notch. He presses the button again and it roars like a small lion.

“Ah!”

The gasp alone pulls a deep moan from the back of Jake’s throat. He pushes the toy against your clit until your legs shake and hips buck against his hand. Jake uses his free one to hold your legs open and coaxes you into your orgasm, and he swears he’s never seen anything so angelic before.

Slowly, he turns the vibrations down as not to abruptly end your orgasm. He turns the device off when he sees your legs begin to still and allows you to catch your breath.

Although, it seems like the fun isn’t over. You smile at him like you know something he doesn’t.

“We should try it on you next.”

“Me?!”

***

comments and reblogs are appreciated! x

[st7rns]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓, c. sturniolo

✿ IN WHICH, chris takes his spoiled!gf on her third shopping spree of the month and she finds a way to thank him…

✿ WARNINGS, smut, oral (male!receiving), use of curse words, semi-proof read

✿ RORA SPEAKS, guys this is my first story so it might be a lil bad but i js KNOW chris would spoil his gf so i had to write this 🙏🙏

i love my man.

he’s always buying me things. if i even smile at something i see while shopping, he’s already picking it up and putting it in our cart. the amount of times he swipes his card when he’s with me is insane.

i have all the new clothes, shoes, purses, etc. but it’s not like i ask him to buy me all these things, he does it on his own!

so far this month, he’d already taken me on two shopping sprees. one at target (who knew self care items were so expensive?) and the other for an online clothing store.

but i reallyyyy want a new purse. so, of course, after he saw me eyeing it for a few weeks, he asked me something like “what brand is that purse you wanted again?” and i practically screamed in excitement, “coach!”

and that explains why we’re at the mall, four shopping bags around my dainty wrists and my new purse around the other. “have i told you how much i love you?” i say sweetly, standing on my tippy toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. my lip gloss made a mark and i smiled at it on his fine ass face.

“not enough” he says lowly, pressing the buttons on the vending machine. at the last store we were in, he practically begged for me to hurry the fuck up so he could get a pepsi or else ‘he’d die.’

he licked his lips in concentration as he watched the soda fall from its row in the vending machine, and it made my legs weak.

“well, i can show you” i whispered seductively in his ear, my hand shaking up his chest to the side of his neck. i inhaled his dior sauvage cologne and it only made me wetter.

“we’re in public, baby” he whispers back, looking around as if someone could hear us. i raised my eyebrows in a “so?” expression which only made him smile and shake his head. “you wanna fuck in the bathroom?”

i knew he was saying it jokingly but my lips form a pout, “what about all my stuff?” i hold up all my shopping bags. he looks down at the multiple bags and groans, “let’s get the fuck home, then”

as soon as he unlocked the door, i jumped on him like a wild fucking animal. i kissed and licked on his neck, earning me a squeeze on my ass and a groan from his lips.

“can’t wait. want you so bad” i whimpered in between kisses, reaching my hand down to palm his hard dick. he broke away to yell “NICK? MATT?” after a few minutes of no reply he picked me up, my legs wrapping around his waist, and sat me on the kitchen counter.

“so needy, yeah?” he says breathlessly, pulling his pants and boxers down in one go. i slowly stroke his dick, sweetly kissing him on the lips at the same time “only for you”

he gave me a cocky grin as he slipped his hands up my shirt, groping and squeezing my boobs. i moaned and threw my head back.

after a few seconds of that, i pulled his hands away. i shook my head, my hair sticking to my lip gloss, “i wanna make you feel good, baby” i slowly got off the counter and dropped to my knees in front of him.

“gonna make me feel good?” he says teasingly. i kiss only the tip of his dick, his pre cum layering over my lip gloss, before looking up at him through my long lashes, and taking all of him in my mouth. or most of him.

he groans and grabs the back of my head, pushing him farther down my throat. “so fucking good, ma. take that shit” i bob my head up and down on his dick, tears filling the edges of my eyes.

the only sounds in the room are chris’ noises of pleasure and the wetness of my mouth around his lubricated dick. i can tell chris is close to reaching his high by the way he starts to sloppily stroke the back of my head.

“fuck- keep going, baby. i’m so close-“ before he can even finish his sentence, warm cum shoots down my throat. i swallow every last drop before popping his dick out my mouth.

“stick that tongue out, mama” he instructs and i do as i’m told, sticking my pink tongue out to show that i swallowed. “that’s my girl” he praises, cupping the side of my face and placing a gentle kiss on the top of my forehead.

“you’re gonna have to show me how much you love me way more often” he chuckles, pulling his drawers and pants up. i smile before gasping, suddenly remembering how he bought me a new purse, and sprinting to where we dropped all of my shopping bags.

i put the purse on, twirling in a circle to give chris the full picture. he licks his lips as he looks me up and down, “you’re so fucking beautiful. did you know that?”

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I Different First Meeting I Lollapalooza/Musician AU I 1.6k I SFW I Side Buckingham

Chrissy is talking but Eddie only catches every fourth word. It's not his fault, the guy walking in front of them is wearing the shortest possible shorts one could wear in public and not get arrested, and the back of his thighs, and the rest of him as far as Eddie can tell, are covered in little brown beauty marks. It's like walking behind a sexy train wreck. 

“So what do you think?”

“Mmm?”

“Eddie! This is important! Pay attention.”

He finally looks away. “Yeah. Italian. Whatever.”

She rolls her eyes. “I already decided on dinner, you jackass. I'm talking about going home for Thanksgiving.”

That's a huge no. He scrunches his nose to indicate how stupid an idea he thinks that is. 

Before she can further berate him, the guy and his girlfriend stop at a random door and walk inside. He's devastated. His soulmate, lost forever! 

“Oh, that's actually on our list!” Chrissy says, stopping him with an arm. “You wanna just go now?”

Eddie's so in his own head he doesn't understand what she's talking about until he reads the door and sees ‘Medieval Torture Museum.’ 

Eddie has a full blown joy filled conniption on the sidewalk. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.” He grabs her and shoves her towards the door.

“Asshole, this is silk,” she mumbles. 

He ignores her. His mole-covered soulmate is still in line, so Eddie gets to stand directly behind him while they wait. His hair is so swoopy. He wants to jam his fingers in it and fuck it up.

“Welcome to the Medieval Torture Museum,” a woman standing at the podium drones in a manner fitting a 70 year old Walmart greeter. “Please no flash photography and watch your step. Have a great time.”

Eddie watches as Soul Mate and his girlfriend make eye contact and attempt not to giggle. It's exactly the same thing he and Chrissy just did behind them. 

Once it's their turn to pay and get their little stickers, Eddie is already foaming at the mouth to follow up the stairs. Chris dicks around, struggling to figure out where to put her sticker. Eddie swears at her under his breath while his Soul Mate gets away.

“It's silk, Eddie!”

Fed up, he takes the sticker from her, baps it onto her forehead, and runs away.

He's glad he left her when he gets to the top of the stairs in time to hear Soul Mate mutter, “I'd pay a drug lord to do that to my dad.”

His girlfriend answers, “I'll do it for twenty bucks and first pick out of his wine cellar.”

They shake on it in front of the mannequin display of a Columbian Necktie.

Eddie is more in love than ever. 

“That's not medieval,” Chrissy points out when she meets them upstairs. She's unbuttoned the blouse enough for Eddie to see the sticker is now stuck to her collarbone. 

“If you're gonna get nit-picky, I'm pushing you back down the stairs.”

She gives him a doubtful look. “Daria down there would save me.”

He huffs a laugh. 

They catch up with his new boyfriend as they stand critiquing the Impaling wall, he follows as subtle as he can through the next room too. Luckily, there are other people mingling about, so Eddie doesn't look too obvious, but it's imperative he stay close enough to hear every comment made.

“That would fix me,” the guy says a lot, especially at the display of a man having his head squeezed until his eye pops out. Eddie can relate, he gets migraines too. 

He does get distracted when Chrissy opens the door to the giant metal bull, because he can't miss the opportunity to try to shove her inside. She wails, kicking him directly in the dick. He drops her in favor of dry heaving the pain away. It's totally worth it because he catches Soul Mate watching. 

“Don't even think about it,” Soul Mate’s girlfriend says. 

Soul mate scoffs. “Like you'd even fit.”

“Bitch!” 

They wander off.

Eddie waddles after, slowly.

He's reading a plaque about flaying when he hears the two of them mutter, “Henderson,” at the same time. He turns and finds them high fiving over a display of a guy with his tongue nailed to a board. 

“Is this a sex thing?” Chrissy asks, holding up a metal cock plate with spikes attached. 

“Without a doubt. I'd venture to say most of this stuff is. Also remind me to have something like this guy drawn up for wardrobe,” he wiggles the one with a boar on the front, “it's so me.”

“Ugh, you're the worst.” 

He stops giggling when he looks up to find Soul Mate looking him up and down, not in a ‘I must have you’ kinda way but a ‘I know you from somewhere’ way. He's not a fan, that's for sure, a fan would've clocked him right away, stupid ball cap on or not. He's sweating his ass off in a sleeveless tank top and jeans, and his tattoos are fairly recognizable. 

Eddie, not shy in the least, gives him a little wave, wiggling the metal boar dildo at him. “How about this guy? Think he'd fix ya?”

The guy chokes on a laugh, embarrassed to be caught looking but not so much that he looks away. “Only one way to find out,” he manages to say just loud enough for Eddie to hear, not so loud that the entire room hears it. 

His girlfriend slaps his bicep. “Don't flirt with Eddie Munson!” She hisses. Not in a ‘you're standing next to your girlfriend’ kind of way but in a ‘flirting with famous rock stars is ill advised’ kinda way.

Hope springs eternal! “No, do. Do flirt with Eddie Munson,” Eddie, shameless in the face of possible love, says back.

Soul Mate moves closer. “Eddie Munson? The Coffin guy? Melted Coffin? You're the Melted Coffin guy?” 

Despite the lack of musical awareness, Eddie is still smitten. “Sure. Melted Coffin.”

Chrissy snickers at his elbow. “Does that make you guys one half of Spoon Goons?”

“Ha!” Soul Mate's girlfriend cackles, holding up a hand for a high five. 

Chrissy gives her a demure tap, actually blushing, like the useless lesbian she is.

“What's a Spoon Goon? Are you guys drug dealers? Why would she know you and I don't?”

Chrissy rolls her eyes up at him, the ‘I lament ever being nice to you in high school, you are embarrassing me’ look.

“They're in Scoops Troop, dumb ass. You've never seen them before because you don't listen to pop music.” She turns back to her new crush. “Sorry, he's allergic to dance beats. Also,” she looks back up at him, “where do you think your drugs come from? The Drug Fairy?”

“That was my nickname in High School,” he quips. 

“It wasn't but it might as well have been.”

Eddie turns back to his Soul Mate and holds out a hand. “Eddie Munson.”

Soul Mate wastes no time shaking, grip firm, hands huge. “Steve Harrington.” He takes his hand away to backhand his friend in the shoulder. “This is Robin. Buckley. Platonic Soul Mate and huge cock block.”

“Huge Cock Block was my nickname in High School,” she says, shaking Eddie's hand and then Chrissy’s.

“Cunningham, Chrissy.” 

“Holy shit!” Robin exclaims. “You're Christine Cunningham? Wait, of course you are, oh my god, I heard all about what you did to Axel Rose last year. That was fucking epic.”

Chrissy, still holding Robin's hand, goes scarlet red. “Oh. Ha. Yeah, he's a dill weed.”

Robin gives her an unwarranted snort. Though calling Axel Rose a dill weed is pretty accurate, it's probably the tamest thing he's ever been called.

Eddie glances over at Steve. They share a look. ‘Can you believe how useless lesbians are?’ 

Eddie nods toward their still clasped hands, pointing out the total lack of awareness on both of their parts. Steve snorts. 

The girls go on a tangent of their least favorite artists to tour with, which is when Eddie gets while the gettin’s good and starts scooting away, Steve equally cat-like beside him. They back toward the next room, side by side, until they bump into a mannequin display of various ways to tickle someone to insanity. 

“Huh,” Steve mumbles, distracted from their getaway. “That can't be right. That claw thing just looks like it would feel good.”

“I'm pretty sure I have one of those at home.”

Steve glances over. “Oh yeah? Where's home?”

“Currently, L.A. Originally? Bout an hour south of Indianapolis.”

Steve's eyes light up. “No shit? I'm from an hour north of Indianapolis!”

“That's insane.” 

“Seriously. Ha.” He plays with the rope contraption on the Blood Eagle display. “You guys are playing tomorrow night, right?”

“Yeah. Nine o'clock. You guys?”

“Sunday at Four.”

Eddie nods, files that away. “The girls are probably gonna fall in love and try to move in together, you know that right?”

Steve shrugs. “We're in Sacramento at the moment, LA wouldn't be a stretch. I'm a wiz at U-Hauling at this point.” 

“Good. So we should do our best to support them. Fucking immediately is probably the best course of action, you know, just to make sure we're compatible.”

Steve doesn't look over but Eddie sees his lips get tucked in, trying to smash his smile down. “You had me at ‘weird torture pig dildo.’”

“You had me out on the sidewalk, I would've followed you down a manhole.”

“Play your cards right, you still might.”

“I love you.”

They're still making eyes at each other when the girls catch up.

“Eddie, Robin and Steve are coming to dinner with us.”

“Yeah they are,” he agrees immediately, throwing an arm around Steve's shoulder.

“Did you know their drummer doesn't have any collarbones?” Chrissy says as they make their way back toward the front stairs.

“Holy fuck, Cunningham, I'm already a sure thing, you don't have to keep selling it.”

[thepixelelf]

warnings: coarse language. wc: 793

[the amnesia card always declines]

If there's one thing Joshua Hong has above all else, it's the audacity.

If there's two things, it's the audacity and the most grabbable, stupidly defined, makes-you-wanna-bite-into-them man tits you've ever seen in your godforsaken, miserable life.

Well, okay, maybe that counts as three things. Whatever.

"Oh my fucking god," you hiss, ducking closer to the coffee shop/bakery's table and hiding your entire head with both arms. "What is he doing here?!"

Soonyoung, the least subtle person you know (but you've given up on fixing him at this point) turns 180 degrees in his chair to watch the loser posing for a "totally casual" photoshoot outside. He hums in understanding, putting his hand under his chin like an experienced detective. "He must've seen your instagram story."

"He doesn't even follow me..."

"Oh, he's following you, alright." Soonyoung turns back around and stabs his fork into his strawberries 'n' cream croffle.

You glare at him over the pastries on the table. "Very funny."

"I know I am," he says with a dumb smile that says your sarcasm was not effective! "When are you going to stop holding your stupid grudge?"

An offended scoff escapes you. "It is a completely reasonable grudge, for your information."

"What, you being mad at him for...kissing you at that party?"

"For smooshing that stupid pretty face on mine at that party then acting like it never happened!" You slap your hands on the table, but as soon as you spot Joshua outside start to turn his head, you duck back into hiding.

Soonyoung points his fork at you. "He was drunk."

"So was I," you argue with a sneer. "But I remember everything-- especially you being the reason we had to cut the night short because you started drunk-crying and I had to take you home."

Suddenly capable of shame, Soonyoung scoots forward in his chair and leans over the table. "Have I mentioned that I love you and you're the best friend in the world?"

"Whatever, buddy." You roll your eyes. "Just remember all the shit I've done for you when I'm the one crying in the club."

"Crying in the club?" echoes Joshua--

Joshua?!

Your soul escapes your body entirely and jolts back in a nano-second. "Holy fuck--" You put a hand over your racing heart and send a death glare to the smug offender. "You scared the shit out of me!"

Joshua just smiles that stupidly pretty smile and, damn it, you're supposed to be ignoring this jackass.

"Sorry," he says, but he doesn't sound sorry at all. "Are you free?"

Making a face, you look over at Soonyoung, who just shrugs, then back at Joshua. "...Right now?"

"Right now is good." He nods in thought. "Or later today. Or tomorrow. If not, then the day after that. You've been avoiding me."

You force your shoulders to relax and avert your eyes. "No I haven't."

Joshua's expression suddenly goes solemn, which you notice because, shit, you started looking at him again. "Did I do something?"

At that, you scoff, crossing your arms and shaking your head in disbelief.

"Seriously. That party... I don't remember much, except that I've barely seen you since."

"Don't play the amnesia card on me, Josh. It's so tired."

His brows furrow, and your stupid fingers want to massage the hurt look right off his forehead. As if the dumbass deserves it.

"It's not amnesia," Joshua says. "But it's fuzzy. I can't tell what really happened that night or what was just my dream."

"Really? We're talking dreams now?"

He shrugs, crossing his arms, which fold just underneath those stupid, huge pecs... "I happen to dream about you a lot."

"Mmhm... Sure..." Are they bigger than the croffles? The melon buns? The... "Wait-- what?"

Joshua smiles, and you just know he caught you staring, the little shit. "I said, I dream about you a lot. Kiss scenes included."

Your jaw drops, maybe to the floor, but you can't be bothered to check. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Soonyoung make a perfect circle with his mouth before he hurriedly asks the barista if they serve popcorn.

"Joshua Hong, you..." Standing from your chair, you fist the collar of his fleece sweater in both hands, primed to throttle. "...are so fucking stupid."

Then somehow, even though you're the one who pulls him in, he's the one who takes your breath away.

When your lips part, though, you open your eyes while his stay closed, and he leans in again.

"Wait," you say, halting him with the one word. "How did you find me here?"

Wincing, Joshua peeks just one eye open. "Please don't be mad at him."

You whip around, but the bell over the shop's door is already tinging, and Soonyoung is dashing across the street like his life depends on it.

Good, because it does.

"Kwon Soonyoung! You are so fucking dead!"

[konigsblog]

Hi orla i lovee your workk <33

May i req a scenario where enemy side!könig fucks reader under the threat that he'll kill her team otherwise?? :3

LITTLE MOUSE, DON'T RUN.

könig x afab!f!reader

synopsis: your enemy finally gets his way with you, after months of dreaming of your torture.

tw: NON-CON, DUB-CON, threats, manipulation & coercion, kidnapping. dead dove: do not eat. photo credit: @ave661

translation: “davon habe ich geträumt, meine kleine maus. um deinen hübschen körper zu vergewaltigen... ich sehe dich immer, wie du ��ber das feld rennst. scheiße, ich wollte dich nur in deine schranken weisen.” = (i've been dreaming of this, my little mouse. to rape your pretty body... i always see you, running across the field. fuck, i just want to put you in your place.)

you really didn't wanna be the reason your entire team would be murdered, slaughtered by the enemies. you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth, your eyes wavering with tears filling your waterline, body trembling as he waits, sharpening his knife with a hungry gaze. he had kidnapped you after finding you laying against a tree, your thigh aching from being shot. you were positive he was going to kill you, then and there, but könig had other ideas.

he brought you into a basement, with the threat being if you didn't follow along with his orders and demands, he'd kill you, before killing your teammates as well. you began to drop your clothing, falling around your feet on the ground. you whimpered when he took a step forward, his silver eyes revealing malice and delirium.

“that’s right, follow along now... bend over for me, over the table.”

you bend over the table, your cheek pressed against the wood, the sound of him unfastening his belt causing you to shake and weep quietly, sniffling from fear. parting your thighs, the feeling of his hard, bulbous cock running over your folds causes your body to react instinctively, betraying you. a tear rolls down your cheek at the wetness, feel almost... ashamed for your body enjoying this torture.

“are you sure you don’t want this? or are you just secretly a filthy girl, my dear? you’d like to me rape this cunt for hours on end, ja? wouldn’t you?” he chuckles, a hoarse growl emitting from deep in his chest as he begins to prod at your hole, pushing inside gently.

your walls pulse and throb, clenching around the tip of his hard cock as he eases further inside. he leans down, his brute chest pressed firmly against your body, using his weight to pin you down, while cupping his gloved hand over your mouth to muffle your screams and cries.

“take it, take me deep, little mouse...” he whispers quietly, his voice guttural as he groans lowly, pushing nearly fully inside while your thighs shake and tremble, body aching underneath his bodyweight.

you want no more, but your body craves and longs for his rough touch, making you feel idiotic for sobbing so pathetically. under his gaze, you're weak and defenceless — i mean, you can't even squirm due to his heavy weight! fighting him off would only worsen the effects and his brutality; his cruelty. german curse words flow from his mouth as his broad hips meet your ass, your eyes watering and glistening, your pussy swallowing and forced open, to take each inch of the large, threatening man's cock.

“don’t cry, there is no need to act like you don’t want this.”

könig taunts you as he tightens his grip on your jaw, muffling your loud cries and choked moans, eyes wide with fear and pain, pleasure causing you gut to swirl, for your core to tighten and your stomach to churn.

your body aches, the pressure against your now weakened body has you breathless, your breathing restricted from each hard thrust. your cheeks become glossy with your tears, lips quivering from the ache, and your pussy getting slicker the more he fucks you. you're forced to listen to his pleasured, laboured breathing, your tight cunt feeling like heaven for him whilst his big cock, forced deep inside you, feels like torture. your eyelids become heavy with exhaustion, no longer fighting it, your hand weakly gripping his wrist. the impact and force of his broad hips against your ass has you shaking, pussy swelling up fron this abuse, while his balls press themselves against your tight ass.

“davon habe ich geträumt, meine kleine maus. um deinen hübschen Körper zu vergewaltigen... ich sehe dich immer, wie du über das feld rennst. scheiße, ich wollte dich nur in deine schranken weisen..”

he begins to pound into your ass, fucking you with a purpose as he unleashes all his built up rage onto you, your breathing getting caught in your throat as he slams into you on repeat, making sure to hear your every scream for mercy and forgiveness.

you're bleeding, crimson coating your thighs, rolling down in pearly beads. your body aches, sore and tired, and the repetitive force against your body causes you to wail out with frustration, tears streaming your cheeks, sobbing from all the pain. the feeling of his tip against your cervix has you shaking, feeling so full with his large, veiny size stuffed deep inside your hole. you can sense he's getting closer, to releasing, and all you hope for is that he won't cum inside you, that he'll pull out. könig's thrusts become sloppy, inching even deeper inside you, your eyes closed despite the rough and intense sensation of his tip smacking against your gummy insides.

könig's places both his hands on your waist and hips, pushing fully inside, cumming deep inside your swollen folds, one last cry leaving your lips. your voice becomes strained and sore from all the screaming and sobbing, the ache between your thighs only intensifying when he eases out, growling out at the sight of your bruised cunt.

you hope that he'll let you go, force you outside on two wobbly legs, to fend for yourself. but instead, you're chained to the wall, his obsession with hurting you only growing, your body bare, bruised and covered in dried cum and blood, to be used as his sex slave for what will feel like an eternity.

[frannyzooey]

Short Days, Long Nights: 18

Joel Miller x f!reader

Rating: extremely soft

A/N: An epilogue to end our story, I'll reblog later with all of my thank yous. For now, this final chapter is dedicated to @mrsmando ❤ and her big giant heart, for whom this story wouldn't exist without.

Series Masterlist

-

FIVE YEARS LATER 

“Honey?”

Placing his keys on the table in the entryway, Joel tilts his head to the side and listens. Silence greets him instead, but it’s a warm one. Peaceful.  

Sunlight streams through the open windows in the living room, and he walks through the beams of soft light towards the back of the house, passing through a scene of domestic disarray: a blanket tossed over the couch, toys scattered on the living room floor, small shoes that he bartered for last week kicked off and tossed on the stairs. Bending down to scoop them up with a sigh, he carries them into the kitchen. Placing them on the table, he looks around for any sight of you. 

The backdoor ajar, he heads into the backyard. 

“Honey?”

“Yea?”

Calling to him from the middle of the garden, he spots you with a smile – right as a small body crashes through the bushes with a shriek. Running straight for him, Joel automatically holds his hands out to catch June, but she looks behind her and screams, dodging his reach instead. Another child comes through and then another; a game of tag that’s crossed borders between the houses. 

“Hey! Stop runnin’ through! Just go around em’!”

You stand from your place in the garden, picking your way carefully through the sprouting plants. Your face and shoulders come into view first, and then your stomach – the soft swell only just beginning to show. At the sight of it, he visibly softens and comes over to help you, lending you his hand. 

“You sound just like a cranky old man,” you tease, brushing the dirt from your knees. Looking up at him with a squint against the sun, you grin and mime shaking a fist. “Stay off my lawn!”

“Well I am an old man,” he says wryly, defending himself. “Besides, all I need is for a kid to get hurt bustin’ through those bushes like that.”

He looks over his shoulder and surveys the damage for a moment; the squall of children slightly muted from the front yard. Bringing his eyes back to you, he steps closer and reaches for your bump, splaying his touch over it. 

“How we feelin’ today?”

“Oh god,” you answer with a sigh. “Tired.” 

Letting your head drop forward, you rest it on his shoulder. His hands glide smoothly from your stomach to your hips, encouraging you to lean into him and you do, pressing your cheek against his chest. Warmth radiates through the material of his shirt, and you close your eyes and breathe him in. Sunshine, sweat, the faint smell of the stables and the horse he rode today while on patrol lingers in the fabric, and your body relaxes against his. 

“How was your day?” you murmur. 

“Good. Tommy n’ Maria wanna know if we can come over for dinner this week. Guess she’s been askin’ for that dessert you made last time, wants to know if you can bring it over again. What was it called?”

“Brown sugar pie.” You burrow even closer against him, and his arms slip around your back in an embrace. 

“That’s the one.”

“I think I have everything I need for it. I can do that.”

“I told him I would let em’ know tomorrow. Got patrol with him again at dawn.”

You look up at him with a pout. “So early again?”

He says nothing, bending to press his mouth to your forehead. 

“I miss you in bed when you leave so early in the morning.”

His kiss drops lower, catching your nose.  

“You know I like curling up next to you. You’re like a human furnace.”

The edge of his mouth lifts. “I know, I like it too. But duty calls and all that.”

Presenting your lips for a kiss, he grants a lingering, full press of his mouth to yours and then pulls back. 

“You need me to carry anything into the house?”

“I don’t need that kind of help just yet,” you reply. 

He puts his hands up in defense with a smirk, taking a step back. “Just askin’”.

You wave him away, turning back towards the garden and he turns to head into the house, calling over his shoulder. 

“I’m gonna take a shower. Is he sleepin’ inside?”

“Yes,” you call back. “Try to be quiet when you go in. He kept me up most of the night, so I know he’s tired too.”

Nodding, he catches the screen door before it smacks the frame behind him and quietly heads upstairs.  

The bedroom is scattered with the same lived-in mess that downstairs is: the quilt thrown back over rumpled sheets, his sweats on the floor, a scatter of items on the dresser. Reaching over his head, he tugs his shirt off in a smooth motion, and tosses it on the bed before sitting down with a soft groan, bending forward to unlace his boots. 

His bare back is littered with long ago healed scars, one of them pulling tight across his flank. Sitting up with a stretch, he rubs at it with his hand, the muscle underneath sore from so much time spent in the saddle. Heading into the bathroom, he tosses the rest of his clothes into the laundry basket and steps into the shower, letting the water beat down on his lower back.

Four years in, and he still lets out a sigh of appreciation every time. 

Done and dressed in fresh clothes, he pads around the bedroom in bare feet gathering the rest of the laundry. A mix of his and yours, a threadbare blankie that needs washing, a sleeper on the dresser. Tossing it all into the basket, he goes into June’s room to do the same. 

Picking up the small guitar she plays with while he practices on his own, he places it carefully against the corner of the wall and gathers the laundry she’s left at the foot of the bed. The room reflects the girl herself: purple walls, drawings taped up on every surface, a butterfly suncatcher that hangs in her window scattering rainbows over the floor. 

Hearing muted babbles from the next room over, Joel grabs a shirt off the floor before heading over to the closed door. Opening it, he’s greeted with a grin. 

“Hey big guy," he says lowly, setting the basket on the floor, peering over the side of the crib. Built by Joel shortly after you arrived in Jackson, he thumbs at the mending it needs on the corner, thinking about how it’ll need to be moved into the bedroom in about five months. 

Still puffy with sleep, the boy’s face resembles yours so much that Joel’s eyes crinkle with affection. “You ready to get up?”

One hand holding the basket and the other one dangling to let his son grasp it, they slowly navigate the stairs together, entering the kitchen just as June comes through the back door with you right behind her. 

“Someone woke up, I see,” you coo, scooping the toddler into your arms. 

“You done playin’ tag, June Bug?” Joel asks, squeezing her shoulder. 

“Yea. The other kids had to go home for lunch. Can you make me something to eat, Daddy?”

Routine takes over, the afternoon sliding into the evening, twilight descending around the house. The picture window in the front is a beacon of light; figures moving around inside. Dinner, playtime, bathtime. A freshly bathed June and Henry – Hank, for Hank Williams – in Joel’s lap on the couch while he reads them a book, the gentle clink of dishes being washed sounding from the kitchen.

After the kids are tucked in for the night, you find him on the porch. Pulling his flannel tight around your torso, you take a seat next to him and he wordlessly drapes his arm across your shoulders, tucking you close. Handing him a well worn mug with an owl on it, he hums with approval when he discovers the whiskey inside. 

“I saw the midwife today,” you say, spreading your fingers over your bump. “She said everything looks good so far, and gave me something for the heartburn.”

“Is it still real bad?” he asks, and you nod. 

“She says that it’s a sign it’s gonna be a girl,” you smile at him, shrugging. “I don’t remember having it too bad with June though, so who knows.”

Watching your fingers smooth your shirt over the small bump with a rub, the action moves in time with the slow rocking of the bench. Another sip of whiskey, and Joel thinks about how much has changed between then and now: a fleeting image of your younger face, a picture of a river, a cabin just beyond.

The comfortable silence between the two of you lets his mind continue to roam, the memories coming in flashes: the trek across the country, the simultaneous relief and on-edge anxiety he felt when the walls surrounding Jackson first came into view. A familiar voice calling through the fog, one he thought he’d never hear again. Favoring his left side due to a deep gash still healing from an encounter with raiders, warmth slipped from his eyes as he clutched his brother tight, unwilling to let go. 

The same brother he saw just this morning, and who he’ll see again tomorrow. 

“You’re so different than the guy I left all those years ago,” his brother said later on, and Joel had said nothing, just lacing his fingers with yours. 

He is different. 

The years have softened him around the edges, or maybe the kids have. Or maybe it’s you.  

Relaxing into him, his cheek comes to rest on the top of your head.

“You tired, honey?”

“Yea.” The word slips out, the edges rounded. “But keep rocking me?”

Fireflies spark and dance in the air, the wisps of a song caught on the wind from the neighbor playing their radio next door. Your profile is highlighted with the softened light from inside, your cheeks plump with health and happiness and enough food, the frown lines from ever present anxiety smoothed away years ago. He gently collects the soft hair at your temple with a soothing stroke and your eyes flutter shut. 

His boot pushing off the wooden floorboards of the porch, he rocks and presses a kiss to the crown of your hair, letting the gratefulness pass through him. 

The old life feels like a dream, or maybe this is the dream – with a wife sitting safe and sound beside him, on the porch of a home filled with his children. 

Everything possible because you imagined it possible. Everything here because of you.

“Come on. Let’s go to bed,” he murmurs, and you nod, not moving. 

The edge of his mouth lifting in a smile, he tucks you in closer and rocks.

THE END

[samandcolbyownme]

do you also write for tara????

Just Kidding? | Tara Yummy

Summary: Tara convinced Zach to have you on the podcast, but he quickly picks up what you and Tara are trying to hide.

Warnings: swearing, kissing, Zach being Zach, flirting, girlxgirl, fluff

Enjoy!

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“He’s going to pick up on us for sure, T.” You brush hair from your girlfriend’s face as she sighs, “I know, but I just really wanted you on the podcast.”

Her hands slide up your arms, stopping at your neck, “So what if he does? We’d be the hottest couple on the internet.”

You smile, nodding your head, “I mean, you’re not wrong.” You bite your lip, eyes searching over her face, “Just means I get to rub it in Zach’s face that I got you and he didn’t.”

She laughs, “Oh my god. We have to tell him.”

“I’ll wait for him to run his mouth.” You laugh and she nods, standing up to kiss you, “This is going to be so much fun.”

——

“So Tara.” Zach says, his eyes moving from her to you, “So y/n.”

You both look at each other and back to Zach, “What is it?” You ask and he shrugs, “I heard a little rumor about you two and I just, you know. Figured we could put it to bed once and for all.”

“And what rumor is that, Zach?” Tara moves around to put her leg under her and you look back at Zach, “I’m curious, too.”

“Go ahead Zach, tell them exactly what you told me.” Jared laughs and Zach shakes his head, “No that’s disrespectful, they’re right here.”

“Jared.” Tara points and you look over at him, “What did Zach say?”

Jared stares at Zach, growing nervous as he looks back to you and Tara, “The first words out of that man’s mouth to me this morning, was, and I quote, when did y/n and Tara enter scissortown, end quote.”

Tara’s mouth drops and she laughs, “Oh my god.”

You look down, shaking your head, “I’m not surprised.” You look at Zach, “Do you wanna know the exact date and time you lost your chance with Tara, or?”

“Wait!” Jared tells, “What?!”

Tara reaches over, grabbing your wrist as she dies laughing, “Do you even know that?”

You shrug, “Could take a wild guess, I know it was after the final live show of the week..” you tilt your head, looking at Zach, “Two months ago?”

“Two months?” Zach raises his brows, “you’ve been exploring her caves for two months and I have yet to receive an invite?”

“There it is.” You and Tara say at the same time, laughing with each other. You give Tara a look and glance back over to Zach, “If you really want one that bad, Zach. Now’s your chance.”

Tara leans out, smirking as Zach looks between the two of you. You find his un-sureness comical, “Cat got your tongue?”

“No, but two of em is about to have it real soon.” Zach smirks, shrugging his shoulders as he tilts his head, “When are we doing this? Date and time.”

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Hope you liked it! Love you all so much! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[lomlhwa]

portrait (y.jh)

pairing: bf!jeonghan x gf!reader

preview: your boyfriend is so pretty. so, how can you turn him down when he asks you to draw him while he eats you out?

tags/warnings: fem reader, oral (f.receiving), pussy drunk hannie, lots of dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, pet names (pretty baby, mama, my love), drawing while fucking

trigger warnings: n/a

w/c: 724

song recs for this fic: touch tank by quinnie

a/n: listened to some asmr on this topic and jeonghan was the first person to come to mind (sorry this is so short)

“whatcha doing, pretty baby?” jeonghan asks as he walks into your shared bedroom.  you look up at him and smile, shaking your pencil at him. “i’m trying to draw.”

your boyfriend stands at the end of your bed and runs his hands up your shins. “what are you drawing?” he asks, goosebumps appearing in the wake of his fingers. “nothing. I'm uninspired,” you sigh, putting down your pencil and paper. 

“i have an idea,” jeonghan says, his voice pitch dropping low. you can tell by the tone of his voice, it's something sinister. your raise your eyebrow at him and cross your arms. jeonghan bends your legs at the knees and crawls between your legs. he rests his pretty face on your stomach and looks up at you.

“you could…” he trails off, dipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants. “draw me while eat your pretty little pussy.” your heartbeat picks up immediately and your face flushes red. “r-really?” you ask, almost unsure of whether or not you heard him right.

jeonghan nods, tugging on your pants. your hips lift on their own volition, allowing him to completely strip your bottom half. he presses soft kisses to the plush skin of your thighs. “what do you say, pretty baby?” you chew on the back of your pencil as you nod shyly. jeonghan’s tongue darts out out of habit, licking your inner thigh.

“make sure to draw me real prettily. i know how much you love how i look between your legs,” he gives you a playful wink before diving into your wetness. he slurps at your hole, drinking up the slick that has been seeping out of you since he came into your room. you bring a shaky hand down to your page and begin to sketch your boyfriend’s current position.

“fuck, you taste so fucking sweet. my favorite candy,” he mumbles into your pussy, sending delicious vibrations through your whole body. you trace the lines of your boyfriend’s perfect face and his perfect hair. you sketch the way his hair falls when he gets really focused on your wet heat.

his tongue abuses your clit and you can’t help but lose focus on your drawing and throw your head back. “fuck, hannie,” you moan out, biting your lip. “keep drawing, mama. i wanna see how i look in your eyes while i make you feel so good.” you force your eyes to refocus themselves and start drawing again.

you slowly start to shade in the shadows that are cast by the sun from your bedroom window. they make jeonghan look even more ethereal. “you’re so tasty, baby. the prettiest pussy. it’s all mine.” out of nowhere, he wraps his arms around your waist and holds you down to eat you like a mad man. his tongue in incessant and covers the surface area of your pussy with insatiable hunger. “oh fuck,” you choke out, your orgasm rising with every movement of jeonghan’s mouth.

“baby, baby, please i’m gonna cum,” you squirm and try to get away from his mouth, your core being so sensitive. “give me your cum, my love. let me drink you up,” jeonghan holds your thighs open with strong hands and does his best to get your orgasm out of you.

abruptly, you reach your high, your thighs clamping down on jeonghan’s head for dear life. but, he doesn’t stop his almost inhuman pace. you let out a strained laugh as another orgasm builds. “hannie, oh my god,” you push on his head, trying to get him to come up for air. his arms keep your bottom half locked against his face. “give me another one, mama. i know you can do it. give it to me. fucking give me it,” he orders.

another orgasm crashes over you, your entire body thrashing. your thighs tremble around jeonghan, your nerves taking over your body. you can barely feel your legs anymore. 

your boyfriend gives some final kitten licks to your cunt before pulling away. he wipes your juices off his mouth before smiling oh so innocently at you. 

“well, lemme see the drawing.” your shaky hands pick up your sketchbook and turn it to show jeonghan the beautiful drawing you made of him. “damn, that’s what i look like down there to you? maybe i should just live there.”

© lomlhwa 2024

[nyctophiliq]

a/n: this kinda doesn’t make sense but i just wanted smth simple w ada

leon’s rookie “puppy”:

she found it quite intriguing that the blonde man, once again, paired up with some girl. he dragged you around like a puppy in training, picking you up from the dirt like a kid how he grabbed you by your shirt to lift you out of the mud and blood, stuffing your gun into your hands.

“didn’t i tell you to stay behind me?” ada hears leon snarl at you, bending down to pick up his sniper and the few ammo he dropped after falling with you.

“i had a good angle.” you mumbled behind your hand as you wiped the mud around your mouth with the back of your hand, “i don’t have time to babysit you and do my job.”

you say nothing back, just square your shoulder before continuing to follow leon’s pace and plan. ada just watches on as the two of you disappear, her mind no longer occupied by the man from all those years ago but you.

and she helps you up a little gentler than him when the two of you cross paths, offering her hand, and putting her other one on the middle of your back to make sure you don’t fall over again as you try to gather yourself. she stares into your eyes for a second, with a quick jump of her gaze to your lips that have a couple of drops of blood on them, a cut close to one of the corners, and looks a little dry like you have been licking it out of anxiety.

ada tries to say something and she surprises herself how her voice chokes in her throat, that defeated look on your face moving something inside of her she didn’t know was there. it surprised her how you didn’t fight back, tried to unarm her- assuming that leon had warned you about her, that’s what you should have done.

“you always this nice with people before backstabbing them?” your words were rude, like barbed wire squeezing ada’s heart that was so fascinated with you despite not knowing your name. so leon did tell you about her and what she was up to, not that she had planned on doing something to you other than help, get you back to your handler because she couldn’t have you for herself. you were just another one of the government pawns, younger and determined with your chosen path it seemed. she didn’t wanna shake your beliefs.

for someone so selfish like her, it’s all too out of character to care about a puppy like you.

[madamechrissy]

Take me Home Tonight

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Gojo is 28-29 here, reader is like 22 or 23. Nothing too crazy. But is Professor/teacher forbidden type love. (Fingering, phone sex, texting nudes, tension in this chap)

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 10k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ After passing your LSATs, your friends take you out to unwind. You never go out, so you are awkwardly agree, and you end up in the arms of a super hot man named Satoru. You end up screaming Satoru's name as he drops down on his knees before you, only to lose him in the club. All you have is his first name. Two months later, in your Criminal Law class, your heart stops. Your teacher? Professor Gojo. Or as you soon call him, Professor Dickhead. You can't fuck up your law school, and he won't fuck up his career, not just because he makes you wet in class, no, he's a dick. Right?

That pout and blue eyes don't wreck you, right? - Lawyer AU (If you wanna be tagged in updates let me know 💓)

Chapter 3- Masterlist

Chapter 4

The next day, you’re dressed to kill, in a cute little black dress that hits just above your knees, a little houndstooth pattern blazer and some fancy heeled boots, hair put up in a bun. Maki is out there with you as you wait for Gojo, you had finally gotten a chance to fill her in, and Yuta is there too. They both have their mouths open when you come out and greet them.

“Damn, business woman here!” Yuta says, and you hug him, grinning. Then you turn to Maki.

“I’m lesbian now.” You snort in laughter, hugging her too.

“You took my girl!” Yuta pouts, then Maki gives him a head pat. Your heart aches a bit at how open they can be, while you…

What even were you and Gojo?

“Thanks, you two! I wanna leave a good impression. It’s such a serious case.” You nervously check your phone, it’s a little before eight AM.

“I still gotta see this to believe it. He was so young looking. Then again… Professor Geto is too and he’s so hot.”

“I’m getting really jealous over here.” Yuta is pouting again, you both hug him on either side. “Never mind now I have two hot girls.”

“See!” You kiss his cheek as does Maki, then you see it, that damn sleek expensive sports car.

“Fuck that’s nice.” Maki murmurs, then Gojo pulls up, windows down, grinning as he leans back in the seat, throwing a peace sign at the two of them.

“Hey there stranger.” He says to Maki with a wink, and you watch her blush, pink on her cheeks, Maki blushing? How? “And are you the boyfriend?”

“Yuta. Are you the hot professor?” Gojo throws his head back in laughter, and now it’s your turn to blush.

“One of them.” Maki says. Gojo’s mouth drops, hand to his chest.

“How dare you! I’m the prettiest professor there is.” You all snort in laughter as Gojo steps out now, coming around to open your door. Maki is squealing in your ear now.

“A gentleman huh?” She whispers, you arch a brow as you look at him, in that damn black suit, and you just can’t get over how good he looks, you notice his tie just a smidge crooked. It’s the only thing that isn’t perfect about him today, but it’s something you’ve noticed and now it’s endearing.

“Not a gentleman, trust me.” You whisper back, and Gojo turns from shaking Yuta’s hand to lean toward you two, hands in his pockets.

“Aw, talking about how hot I am?” He says with a wink, and you both roll your eyes. Maki pushes up her glasses.

“He’s kinda a dick huh?”

“I heard that you know!” Gojo very maturely sticks his tongue out at her, and she does it back, you just shake your head.

“See you all tomorrow!” You say then, and they both hug you, waving at Gojo and then running off to class. You’re left standing alone with him now, looking up at his lush white hair, looking extra soft and shiny. Your fingers itch to touch it.

He looks at you too then, up and down. “ Brat , you’re looking so damn good today. You’re giving me a run for my money.” He says with a smug smirk, his hand reaching out to take yours for a brief moment, before inclining his head for you to come sit in the car.

“Thank you, Gojo, I was trying to look professional. Here.” You stand a little closer, fixing his tie just a bit, and then there was so much… goddamn tension… as he just stands there, watching you with those azure eyes, lips parted just so.

“Thanks, Miss Brat.” He murmurs, and you manage a little half turn of your lips, acting like being near him didn’t tear you apart, didn’t make you overheat just touching his damn tie.

“Of course. Ready?” He grins, nodding, then he’s shutting the door and sliding in the seat next to you, as you prepare to drive you fiddle with your phone, so much left unsaid between you both, as vivid memories of him…

Getting you off better than any toy with two fingers?

Yeah.

“Should just nickname you thighs.” You turn to him in confusion, and he’s looking at you, squirming. You moan in annoyance.

“I can’t help them!”

“They’re also really nice. Making me a leg man over here.”

“Oh stop.” 

You giggle as his hand brushes your thigh for just a moment, hating how damn comfortable you felt with him. You take his hand off, but you hold it for just a minute, running your thumb down his knuckles, and you feel his hand tense in yours, as you study his long elegant fingers. Then you sigh and let it go reluctantly, putting it back on his gear shift.

“That was… nice.” He says curiously, and you ache to touch his hand again, but it wouldn’t stop there, would it?

But the way he says it, so vulnerable and soft?

Fuck.

“Your fingers are demonic, you know.” He snorts at that, and the mood is lightened, but you may or may not have brushed his hand a few more times as you all drive, every time he puts a hand back, like some little game, until he snatches your hand up and kisses it.

You bite back the little whine in your throat of pleasure of just how good his lips feel brushing against you, just staring at him with your lips parted, with glazed over eyes, his perfect jawline and his profile just kill you. The cut of his hair in the back? Kills you. Full lips that perk up in the corners? Kill you.

“You really need that picture, brat. Go ahead, take one I don’t mind.” He shoots you a wink, and you flush. “Pink is so pretty on you!”

“Gojo!”

“Especially your pink-”

“Gojo!” He snorts laughing, and that sweet little moment is gone, but it’s good, you can breathe now, as you cross your arms and act affronted. But, really you’re not at all. You peek back over after it calms down and you both are just listening to music and driving, and again, it’s comfortable. So comfortable.

“It’s your time to shine today, well, in the background but those phone records did come in, and they came in clutch.” You grin, wide, and he smirks at it. “You’re getting off to law, such a nerd.”

“Says you!”

***

You and Gojo sit next to each other in court again, and the anticipation lights the room up, the tense prosecution, and goofy, happy Gojo sit in sharp contrast with each other. Gojo is kicked back, relaxed as the prosecution questions the next witness, who is growing ever nervous, and Gojo is just chewing on candy and smirking.

“Enjoy the show, baby girl.” Gojo murmurs, you just admire him, tilting your head and smiling at him.

The phone records had come in, and now Gojo is strutting over to the stand, handing them to the judge with a smirk. “Heya Judge, good morning.” He shoots her a grin, and the stern judge laughs at that a bit, before growing serious.

“Good morning Mr. Gojo.”

“If it pleases the court, or should I say, the lovely Judge .” Gojo’s fan girls are swooning, you roll your eyes. “We’d like to submit these records into evidence, and question the previous witness again regarding their credibility and any potential tampering of evidence.”

The judge looks over the records, her eyes scanning them intensely before she nods, and calls the witness back in from yesterday, and you can see the prosecution’s faces drop when she agrees. They approach the bench, then huff away, fuming and just down right dejected.

The witness, Miss Saito, is called back up, looking so nervous, while Gojo? He is calm, cool, and collected, perfectly at ease, as he questions her about the night again. Her eyes nervously dart around the room, to the jury, and he’s so calm, you can’t even imagine being like him. He’s really something.

Then, he hits her with it, the gap of missing time from the phone records, and she starts stammering, sweating.

“Miss Saito, can you tell us about the phone call you made that night?” Gojo asks sweetly, as if he’s not interrogating, no he’s just caressing everyone with that deep timbre of his.

“Well… I-I was worried about my friend, so I called her to check in, but she didn’t answer. Then, I just… I hung up quickly.” She says, trying to play it cool.

“Ah, but, the records show no call was made to said friend at that time. In fact, it shows no calls at all. Did you perhaps delete something from your call history?” The room goes dead silent. “Accidental nude?” He says with a wink. You struggle to cover your laughter, the court fails.

“Objection!” Prosecution yells.

The Judge tries to hide her smirk. “Sustained. Mr. Gojo, please, refrain from asking about nudes.”

“Sorry, so sorry.” He brushes his hair back, turning and winking at the enamored jury. “Did you delete something, Miss Saito?”

You watch as she turns a little paler, her hands shaking as they fidget in front of her. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. Maybe it’s a mistake?”

Gojo smirks, turning to the jury. “A mistake hmm? I think it’s more than a mistake, don’t you all?”

The prosecution jumps up, looking like they’re about to have a meltdown. “Sit down, I don’t want to hear another objection.” The judge leans forward on her hands, looking intently at Gojo’s show.

“N-no, I don’t remember deleting anything! I didn’t see…” She’s about to cry, you can tell, and Gojo sighs, coming to lean his hands across the bench, handing her a tissue box.

“I didn’t ask you if you saw something, Miss. Did I?” The courtroom gasps at that. “Hmm, did you see something? Perhaps you saw… the real killer?”

“Objection!” The prosecutor is sweating now, and the court room erupts, as they try to object, but Gojo’s got the room.

“The truth will make you feel better, love.” He says to the young lady there, and she just falls apart then.

“Maybe I… I…” She looks at the accused, who is emotional clearly. “I hated you and wanted to ruin you! And… also…. Someone paid-”

“Your honor, he is leading!” Comes the prosecution.

“I’m not leading, I’m just letting her speak her truth. It wasn’t you, the killer, was it?” She shakes her head. “Go ahead, get it all out.” He leans his back against the bench, sighing.

“No, I would never… but I… he was cheating with those whores so of course I… I…” She’s sobbing, hiccuping, and everyone in the courtroom, including you, are in utter shock. You didn’t know that this would even develop so much. Then suddenly you feel it, his excitement, clear across the room.

“That call was to the person who really killed her, isn’t it?” She shivers, nodding then, and you lean forward, fucking fascinated.

“And who was that, that terrible person who’s so manipulated you. You just were in love you know.” He purrs the words, seducing everyone in that damn room, then and there. “Go ahead, let everyone know.”

She starts going at it then, spilling so much information, that they try to object her talking, which was pretty hilarious, you get some really odd thrill from it all. You watch as she practically runs off the stand, and Gojo sits down next to you, leaning back in his chair, looking over at you with a grin, then he hands you a piece of candy, and you giggle.

“Professor Gojo, bravo.” You whisper, he chuckles softly.

His hand moves up your thigh, under your skirt, and you bite your lip to keep from gasping. His touch is electric, and you're torn between the thrill of the case and the desire to jump him right there in the middle of the courtroom mixing together. You hesitate, but you brush the back of his hand with your fingertips, and your eyes meet, his darkening.

“Good work, Miss Brat, you absolutely helped.” He murmurs, and squeezes your thigh gently, it feels so delicious that you struggle not to make a noise. The man barely touches you and you fall apart, pathetic is what he makes you… and…

The praise from him? Fuck it gets you.

The deliberation begins, and everyone disperses, waiting for the call back. You and Gojo grab lunch, him taking you to get yummy Ramen, then you head back and wait in the little office. You're studying your books because you honestly needed to, and Gojo is going over everything with the client and the D.A. He comes back then, shutting the door and looking over at you.

“Such a good girl.” The way he says it makes you squeeze your thighs and your teeth clamp on your lower lip. “Ooh, you like that huh?”

“Hush. I can't let my studies slip.” You cross your legs now, struggling not to shift under his bright blue gaze. “You really are amazing at this though, Satoru.”

He preens under the praise and you can't help but smile as he does a twirl, holding his face. “Aw shucks, thank you shnookums!”

“The fuck, you're so goofy.” He laughs, coming to stand by where you're sitting in the office chair, so tall that your head is damn near at his lap, making your mouth dry.

“You're boring. Need to have more fun.” He snatches your textbook, you scowl, standing and jumping, he just grins with those fangs and eyes your chest. “Love to see those bounce.”

“Oh God, don't even.” You feel yourself heat up, trying to yank his arm down and get your book. “Gojo I have school you know!”

“I do, I'm your teacher. Fuck the thought of you in a naughty school girl outfit-”

“Hush!” You slam a hand on his mouth as he practically purrs against your hand. You struggle to not laugh, keeping a firm look on your face. “Be good.”

“Yes mommy.” He pouts and gives you big eyes. You laugh then, nearly snorting, then sigh.

“You're ridiculous. Now give me my book, please?”

“Gimme a kiss. Then you get it.” You tremble when he holds his arm high with the book, then the other wraps around your waist, hand burning your skin through your blazer.

“Satoru… when we're back at school Monday, like… it'll be…”

“Yeah, I'll be rock hard looking at your fuck me eyes across my classroom.” His hand brushes down your waist, desire pools between your thighs. “Hard wanting to fuck you in that dorm and make it impossible for you not to scream and let everyone know.”

“Gojo…” You whisper, pathetically.

“Fuck you so good you won't think of anything else.” He whispers those words against your lips, seductive, and you come closer, holding the lapels of his jacket now, pressure in your tummy at the thought. “Can't though, huh?”

“Can't. Bad idea.”

“Terrible idea.”

“Shit idea.”

You both pause, in an office of a courtroom trial, the biggest in years, and you lean up, tilting your chin, your eyes lock. His mirror the desire in yours, pretty face tense, perfect brows low over those eyes. He eases his arm down, then you kiss him, tongue sliding against his lips, pressing in, and the book chatters to the floor.

He moans into your mouth, hands gripping your hips, thumbs pressing in, hands so big they own you. You come up to hug his neck, falling into those kisses, the ones you constantly crave, until he has you pressed on the door, lifting you so effortlessly, hands cupping your ass and shoving up your skirt.

You gasp for a breath when he finally let's you pull away slightly, and Gojo's blue eyes are dark with lust, and he smirks at your reaction, his hand not moving from your ass, just holding you, pressing against you, making you want to grind against him for friction you crave.

"Can't resist me, can you brat?" He whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

“Conceited, arrogant…” But even as you say the words, you lean back into him, your body betraying you, hips pressing up for more.

"Mm, but you want it, don't you baby?" He murmurs, his thumb tracing circles on the bare skin of your neck, coming to wrap your throat, a threat of choking that makes you throb. He presses his weight against you, until it's all him. "I can feel it.”

You exhale, a shaky breath, then as he's inching his hand up your thigh, just watching you, a knock comes, right against your back. You tense, and Gojo just shushes you, easing you down off the door, straightening your dress.

“Yep, what is it?” He asks, so casually, picking up your book.

“Twenty minutes.” Comes the bailiffs voice.

“Perfect, thanks.” You let out a held breath, bending over dramatically. He laughs at you. “Hurting hmm?”

“Nope, just fine.” You take the book out of his hands, lips tingling, then Gojo pauses you.

“Let me fix your hair.” You blink a bit, then nod, and he puts the bobby pins back in place. “Bun got messy.”

It feels so good, his fingers in your hair, caring for you…

Fuck.

“Thank you, Satoru.” You murmur, and his hands are on your shoulders as he is behind you, leaning low, breath on your ear.

“Why are we always on time limits? It makes me so competitive with the clock.” You tremble. “Should I see how many times you can cum in-”

The door knocks again.

Gojo cusses under his breath. “Yep?”

The door opens and he lets go of your shoulders, you pretend to look at the book as the D.A. comes back in and talks to Gojo. By the time he leaves, deliberation is almost over, and you look back up at him. He moans, coming and cupping your face.

“The fuck me eyes kill me. Stop it.” You flutter your lashes as you look down, flushing. “Do you blush everywhere, Miss Brat?”

“You're ridiculous!” You hiss, he just grins, eyes lingering on your chest.

“You blush here.” His fingertips trail down the hint of cleavage, making your nipples press against your bra, straining the fabric. You cry out unwillingly, slamming your mouth shut then. But it's too late.

“Gojo we can't…”

“Could I get you off in three minutes?” You cover your face, sighing, then look back up at him.

“Could I do it?” You murmur, and he freezes, eyes wide and glittery, mouth open in an O.

“ Could you ? Have you even…” You're heating up more.

“No, I haven't but… you've pleased me and… it would be… I'm curious… I …”

You're just stammering and looking down, he kneels then, in front of you, holding your chin, tilting it up to look at him. “The thought of that is alone making me fucking precum, mmkay?”

“It is!?” You look right at him, he smirks a bit.

“I think we'll wait though. Till I'd have time to show you how.” You melt then, when his hands go to your face, cupping each side so delicately. Like you're precious.

“But back at school… what if we have no… fuck I'm being bold. Ugh. And making no sense.”

“I like it. This side of you.” He presses a soft kiss on your reddened lips, then sighs. “You know sucking my dick won't help your grades though.”

“Fuck off, Professor Dickhead!” You shove at him, he snorts in laughter, throwing his head back, you huff, smoothing your dress and struggling to function. Before you step out he takes your wrist. “What?”

“With words you've made me more turned on than anyone could. Just words.” You look at him in shock.

“What… I… Satoru you're so gorgeous I don't even get why-”

“Don't even say why I'd want you I'll get really fucking irritated.” He's glaring now, voice clipped. He's still got your wrist.

“I'm like a frog next to you.”

“I'm the frog. You're the princess. Gotta kiss me.” He purses his lips and you giggle. “You're banging ass hot, so please don't think you're not. I'm picky, too.”

“Thank you, Satoru.” You peck his lips. “My handsome frog.”

“Ribbet.” You giggle uncontrollably as he makes some stupid frog face, then he is laughing with you, hugging onto you. It feels even better than… no not better than his kisses, but so good. “Never say you're not hot again. I'll use a yardstick on that nice ass.”

“A yardstick!?” He grins, maniacally, but the thoughts whirl through your head.

“You're such a freak, you want that huh? Professor Gojo spanking his naughty student’s ass till it's bright fucking red.” He's whispering the words, and before you can lie, it's time to go.

Jesus you are on edge.

You're edged.

The deliberation is over, and you all file into the courtroom, your heart is hammering in your chest. Gojo seems calm, just talking with everyone. When the verdict is finally read, you find yourself holding your breath. They came back with a completely unanimous decision, though. Not guilty.

As all of the charges are read back to back out loud, all not guilty, the courtroom erupts into chaos, the accused's family hugging each other and sobbing, the prosecution looking stunned and furious. Gojo stands, smoothing his tie, his expression calm, like none of this surprised him, his eyes on you for a moment before the family comes to him.

“You saved my son’s entire life, Mr. Gojo. Thank you so much.” The accused dad, the state representative says, shaking Gojo’s hand.

“She helped too, actually. The phone call records.” He exhales, looking at you and grabbing your hand, bowing over it so formally.

“Thank you so much for helping. Bright future, especially working with him, he’s the best.” He smacks Gojo on the shoulder, and Gojo grins, you flush with pride, you've helped someone. It feels so good.

“Of course, I’m so glad I could help at all.”

“And I am so amazing, aren't I?” Gojo nudges you with his shoulders, and you are rolling your eyes, sighing, then look up at him.

“You are.”

As the courtroom clears out, you both pack up your things, your heart racing at such a thrill, and Gojo seems to be literally on cloud nine, damn near bouncing like a kid with way too much caffeine. He says good bye and takes pictures with his never ending fans outside, then you realize it’s getting to be evening, the sky casting a pretty dark orange glow.

Gojo takes his jacket off, and you smile. “I have a blazer, Satoru, I’m fine.”

He wraps you in it anyway, carefully, and you inhale it, wishing you could just live in any of Gojo’s jackets. He holds your shoulders carefully, looking at you with those big blue eyes. “You look really cute in it.”

You melt.

He sees it, he’s observant.

“I do?” You ask softly, and he nods, as you two stand together, the last people are filing out down the stairs, the wind blows his soft hair around, and you brush it back, watching his eyes shut for a moment.

“You always look cute, Miss Brat.” He teases a bit, after damn near brushing his head against your hand for more.

“Thank you, Satoru.”

On the car ride home you struggle to stay awake, exhausted, until you somehow wake up back at your dorm, drool out the side of your mouth landing on Gojo's expensive jacket.

“Shit, I'm so sorry! I'm always ruining your clothes.” He gently wipes your lips, leaning close, as you blink the sleep away.

“I'd like to make you drool.” He says softly, and you cry out, when his hand is on your thigh, squeezing.

“Satoru… we're… at my dorm. I can't… what…”

“Poor baby can't speak can she?” You manage a glare, yanking off his jacket.

“Fuck off, Professor Dickhead.”

“Didn't you offer to suck me off today?”

“I… you…” He's chuckling at you now. “Ugh, annoying!”

“Thought you were so eloquent, hmm…”

“I'll see you in class Monday.” You manage, and go to leave, he stops you, taking your hand.

“Any plans? Wild parties?”

“Me? No. I'll be studying, but Maki did invite me to some frat party. I'm not sure if I'll go.” You rub your tired eyes a bit, gather your things, and watch Gojo's lips turn down. “What's wrong?”

“Promise me you'll be careful if you go?”

Your pulse hammers in your throat, as his eyes glitter in the dark of his car. “Of course I will. I'll… text you? That's weird huh.”

“Just let me know you're good. Some of the Frat parties have… some shitty dudes. Just watch your drinks, okay?”

“That's so sweet actually…”

“Hush, don't tell anyone.” You smile softly, running a hand up and down his chest then.

“Wish you could go and we could be like…” You both pause at that. “Ignore me, fuck I should sleep. I'm saying dumb shit. Good night, Toru.”

At that, he's got a hard grip on your wrists, you wince a bit, looking at him in confusion. He pulls you close, so close you nearly are on top of him in his fancy little car, one of your thighs sound over his, hands on his chest, and you just pause, looking up at him, at the shadows from the city lights shining in on the perfect planes of Satoru Gojo’s face.

“I love when you call me that.” He says softly, and he leans down, lips a breath from yours, tempting you, right in front of your dorm.

“Toru…” You whisper again, knowing what you’re doing. He moans then, and yanks you on his lap, your thighs spread over him, a position you had not even been in with him. You feel him, growing hard right under your cunt, as he shoves your little black dress up your thighs, his hands now on your waist under your blazer. You’re trembling under his touch.

You both sit there, precarious, just breathing, as if both of you know if you kiss it’ll be over, you’ll be riding your Professor’s cock then and fucking there. You can’t even form a coherent thought as he presses up then, against your soaking wet little pussy, and you grind back, pressing your hips down and crying out. His eyes never left yours, just drinking you in.

“Should I give you something to think about, when you’re getting hit on by frat boys tomorrow?” He whispers, pulling you down again, and you feel how thick he is, how huge even under his dress pants. You cry out pathetically.

“Why, you jealous, Toru ?” You whisper, leaning closer, and he glares then, grabbing your hips and pulling you down hard, arching his own hips up, to where he’s between your puffy, slick folds now. “Ah!”

“You won’t want them, will you?” He whispers, against your lips, not kissing you but shoving you down on his clothed cock, making you soaked. “Say it, brat, that you won’t want anyone.”

“Why do you… care… mnh!” You’re lost in the sensation, grinding against him without even realizing it. His hands are everywhere, pushing up your skirt, exploring the smooth skin of your thighs, and you're so wet, so desperate for him, that you can't help but whimper, just a breath from his lips.

"Aw you want it so bad, don’t you baby?" He whispers, his voice full of smug satisfaction. "You want me to fuck you right here. So fucking desperate for my cock."

“No… I… mmm…” You hiss when he chuckles darkly, his hands moving up, cupping your breasts, as he pushes up again, teasing you with his lips.

“Still a shit liar, Miss brat. Say it, and I’ll get this pretty pussy off.” You get wetter, hotter at the thought, and watch him grin as you’re rocking your hips for more. “Soaking my pants, Miss Brat.”

“I… like to ruin… your clothes… ngh…” You can’t form a single coherent word, and he feeds off it, pouting up at you, mocking.

“I… like… to… grind on your dick, Toru! Mmm!” He mocks the fuck out of you, and you glare, shoving at him, trying to get your throbbing cunt off him.

“Fuck you, Professor Dickhead. Let me go.” He laughs again, softly.

“Admit you want it, Miss Brat. Me to make you cum, like only I ever have.” At his words you’re flushed, overheated, his grip won’t let you go, and you get dizzy in the car, realizing just what you all were doing.

“Satoru…”

“Toru.”

You exhale then, holding his face in your hands, lips hovering over his. “We’re being stupid and reckless, Toru.”

He grins. “Aw, baby, you just can’t admit it huh? Maybe I should ask her…” He runs a thumb over your panties, sticky and wet, dripping with desire. “She seems to like me more than you do.”

“She’s dumb. Mmm!” You clutch his shoulders as he grinds up on you, while shoving his thumb up on your clit, blue eyes wide and dilated, lips tempting you, glossy and full, you want so badly to let go, to give your pussy what she wants.

“Does she want me?” He asks, softer, you nod, and he yanks his hand away, leaving you breathless, confused. “I need you to use your words. Coherent words, Miss Brat.”

“Ugh!” You bend down then, pressing your cunt against his cock, watching him suck in a breath, hands going in his soft hair, yanking it back, making him look up at you for just a change. “I won’t be fucking around at this party, okay? I wouldn’t… I don’t want to.”

He pulls you down, lips taking over yours then, mouth just possessing yours, sloppy, messy kisses, tongues licking and teeth bumping, moaning into each other’s mouths. That all consuming fucking kiss, the one that you could never get enough of, rushing straight to your cunt that’s dripping more on him.

“Only want me, hmm?” You nod, helpless, unable to lie to him. “Say it, and I’ll get this perfect pussy off.”

“We can’t… here… we shouldn’t even be doing this right now.” Your voice breaks in the middle when he presses again, making you hiss at how bad you’re aching, eyes rolling back, and damn near ready to drool again at the sensations. Then you’re kissing again, and he lifts your hips up and slides two fingers in you at once, stretching you out, filling your aching little hole.

“Feel her, pulsing around me already.” He whispers, and the car gets too hot, hard to breathe with how much you want him, your cunt is drooling down his hand, as he tilts his fingers now.

“Want you, I want you. Want you…” Is all you manage, then you’re unbuckling his belt, surprise on his face for a brief moment, and you watch him closely, his face contorting in pleasure, his eyes fluttering shut when you grab his cock.

“ Fuck .” He moans, so sexy, and you’re raised up on your knees now, bending down, your ass on his steering wheel, one of your legs shoved against his gear shift, and all you can think about is that he’s so hot and huge in your hands.

You look down, salivating at the sight, even in the dark you can tell he has a pretty, perfect cock, so goddamn long it’s stupid. You stroke him harder, your hand moving in a rhythm that matches the beat of your insane pulse hammering in your throat, and his grip on one of your hips tightens, his fingers shoving in your cunt deeper, until you see stars, hand faltering for a moment.

“Under pressure, brat, remember?” He whispers, taunting you, and you just buck your hips, riding his fingers, while you swipe your thumb over the tip of his cock, smearing the precum around, and he jolts, his hips jerking upwards, pushing his length deeper into your grip. “Jesus… fucking… ”

“Jesus… fucking… can’t talk hmm Toru? Your words .” You taunt now, and he glares at you, as his breathing turns ragged, his chest heaving, and you feel your own arousal spike as you watch him lose control, bringing you even closer to the edge.

“You’re a fucking brat. Can’t wait to fuck this stupidly wet cunt.” He hisses the words, then he withdraws his fingers, bringing you down, until your cunt is pressing against his length.

“Toru!” You cry out, and you nearly fall, pressed against him, he groans when he feels you.

“So hot, so wet. Need it. Need you.” He yanks your panties to the side, then you both freeze, as a car parks right next to yours. You tense, straddling Satoru Gojo’s cock with just your panties as a sad, pathetic barrier of soaked lace. And he freezes, as you both look out the car window.

Someone gets out of what appears to be an Uber, and you pray Gojo’s windows are tinted enough, clinging to him, not breathing. It’s two seriously drunk girls, though, they’re both giggling, leaning and taking selfies, as you and Gojo just fucking sit there, your cunt throbbing, wanting him inside her, and him, so hard he hurts, leaking precum on your panties, making them a bigger mess.

They finally walk in, and he exhales, the same as you, then you both stare at each other, eyes locking, until you’re blushing furiously, realizing what had almost happened. You ease off him, and he winces, adjusting himself back into his dress pants, running a hand through his silky hair. You adjust your skirt, taking a shaky breath and then stepping out.

He’s instantly in front of you, shutting the car door behind you, and you clutch your books tight to your chest, trembling as he bars you, arms on either side of you against his car. You look up and meet his eyes, hungry, a little bit of pink on his perfect cheeks, his lips parted.

“Toru… we’re stupid.” You manage to say, and he smirks just a bit, shaking his head.

“You’re not stupid, Miss Brat. Well… stupidly hot.” He whispers, and you tense, clutching your thighs together, sticky as your wetness soaks you. “Stupidly tight. Stupidly wet.”

“ Toru… stop. ” You’re whining his name and he groans, cupping your face.

“I can’t handle how good that sounds on these gorgeous lips. Got me wanting to lick you on this hood right now. Make you scream it.”

You whimper, resting your head on his chest, holding your books so tight they dig into your arms. The door opens, and Satoru backs off, as another car pulls up as well, and you both catch your breaths, finally having distance. You can't even look at him, at his gorgeous face, a face that makes you forget your entire life, forget everything but how much you crave him.

“I should go inside.” Your voice is shaky, unsure, and he tilts your chin up, making you meet his beautiful gaze.

“If you need me to… if you need anything text me. Call me. Okay?” His voice is a little strained, and you nod, smiling up, lips stinging from his kisses, wishing you could just do it, right here. Let him lick you on his damn hood.

You hurt.

“Thank you, I will be fine though. Promise. I don’t drink much.”

“That’s worse, no tolerance.”

“You worry about me, huh? So soon?” He pouts a bit, standing straight then, hands in his pockets. You watch the wind whip his hair around, so gently, he looks so beautiful there, it makes your chest tighten. “Will you miss me all weekend?”

“You wish. Brat .” He rolls his eyes, and you smile softly, giggling a bit, earning his glare. “Won’t miss you at all, less of a headache. And less of my cock in pain.”

“I was gonna…”

“Yeah.”

You both damn near jump each other again, then you take his hand gently, enwrapping your fingers with his. He looks down at where they’re joined, bringing your hand up to his lips, kissing it, making you melt.

“Good night, Toru. I’ll see you Monday in class.” You mumble, blushing at the thought of that.

“Night, Miss Brat.” He mumbles back, and you run off practically, struggling to put distance, to get air between you two. You peek over your shoulder, and see him leaned against the car, hand over his face, and you realize…

Satoru Gojo wants you.

How, you can’t quite fathom.

Damn near as much as you want him.

His eyes look at you and you turn and run into the building, like some silly teenager, you can’t handle him looking at you like that, like he wants to eat you. You’re stripping, as is your new routine, hopping in the shower, because you honestly just can’t anymore, you can’t take how bad you want him.

You’ve never wanted something like that, and you both were dumb enough you were about to fuck right in front of your dorm. Oh, and his cock? The biggest and prettiest you'd seen…

Fuck.

***

"Come on, it's just one dance." The guy behind you urged, his breath hot and icky against your ear. He was honestly cute, and you all had talked just a bit, but the thought of it?

“I don’t dance, I’m sorry.” You say, nervously, looking around at the dancing sea of bodies, feeling the loud bass ringing in your ears.

His hand rested gently on the small of your back, on the outskirts of the crowded college party. “I could teach you?”

Gojo had taught you.

Remembering being in his arms nearly broke you, and you tremble thinking about it, about how much you crave him, how much you wish he could just… date you? Like maybe, when you’re done with school, or at least not in his classes, you all could, right, but would he be around, available? Look at how fucking handsome he was, there is just now way.

The thought punches you in the stomach.

You turned to face him, a cute blond guy, his eyes full of hope, and shook your head with a sympathetic smile. "I don't think so, sorry. Nice to meet you though!" You say, and then walk back through the room, until you run right into Maki.

“He was cute, why not dance?” She asks, her green hair was down today, straight, looking gorgeous. You sigh, running your fingers through it.

“I’ll dance with you.” She rolls her eyes, smiling at you.

“Are you pining for hot professor?” She teases, you sigh, rolling your eyes now, shaking your head.

“She’s totally fiending.” Yuta comes, teasing you with a poke. You smack his hand away, sighing.

“I know we can’t… I mean, not now.”

“So you’re what, holding out anther couple years? You’re already like three years dry.”

“Maki!” You glare at her, and she shrugs, walking towards the drink table, grabbing you each a beer. “It’s not like those were good you know.”

“The first time isn’t usually good. I mean, Yuta… he was amazing. Quick though.” She giggles and Yuta glares now.

“That just meant you’re amazing.” She flushes a bit, and kisses him, they were about the same height, both way taller than you. You crave that, but with…

“Ugh, I do have it bad.” You grumble, sipping the beer and grimacing, it was not your drink of choice.

“Listen, at least have some fun. Oooh, beer pong!” Maki bounces up and down, and before you know it, you are actually playing, you end up losing terribly, and you all are going back and forth. It starts hitting you after your third beer, this weird, fuzzy headed feeling.

You are a lightweight, so you back off a bit, and Maki and Yuta go at it with two more of their classmates, laughing as Maki annihilated the boys. You smile, then head towards the bathroom, and by the time you are in there, everything is spinning, and you grow dizzy a bit. You splash a little water on your face, then look down at your phone, contemplating…

You know you shouldn’t, but you’re tipsy.

Your thumbs move almost by themselves, and before you know it, you're typing a message to him, feeling your heart flutter in your chest, looking at the message over and over. Should you? Ugh!

Fuck it.

You: I miss you, Toru.

You freeze, hand on your chest, feeling your heart pounding, thrumming in your ears, overheated. You lean against the bathroom counter, and watch the three little bubbles move. What was he up to, you wonder, what did Satoru Gojo do, when he’s not a lawyer, a professor, a…

Professor Dickhead: You’re tipsy, aren’t you?

You giggle at that.

You: Yeah, a bit. Not gonna lie.

Professor Dickhead: Being safe?

You: Turned down a dude who wanted to dance.

…

Professor Dickhead: Good Girl.

You’re wet now. Great.

You: Wet.

No, did you just…

You: Ignore that!

You panic as he keeps typing, those damn bubbles.

Professor Dickhead: Show me.

Fuck…

You’re trembling, phone nearly falling out of your hand, and you contemplate it, you can’t right? That’s awful It’s making everything worse! No way…

You: What do you mean like… a picture?

Professor Dickhead: Pic, vid, I wanna see her.

You: Scandalous man, wanna see your student’s pussy? While she’s had three beers?

Professor Dickhead: Hmm… you know, I’d ask to finally see those perky tits, but I wanna see them in person first.

You flush.

You: And where are you?

Professor Dickhead: Out with Geto and Nanami. We’re at some fancy martini place and the girls are coming in hoards.

You giggle at that.

You: Bet one of them would show you their pussy, easy.

…

Professor Dickhead: Wanna see yours, though, it’s the prettiest one.

You: Are you rizzing me Gojo?

Professor Dickhead: Do I even have to?

You hop up on the counter then, and your hands shake as you lift your skirts, sliding your panties to the side. Fuck are you doing this? You are, aren’t you? Drunk texting your very hot professor, angling the camera to look at your glistening pussy in the selfie camera, lips puffy from the abuse your vibrator put on it this morning, thinking of him.

You slide your finger between your lips, taking a little video, rubbing up and down once, twice, then you pull the camera up, and lick yourself off your finger. You flush, from alcohol, horniness, and… the thrill, the… you’re nervous? You’ve sent like a titty pic before, but not this.

You hit send, squealing, then hopping off and splashing your face again, hearing someone knock on the bathroom door. You answer it, and it’s Maki, who just stumbles in, along with Yuta, shutting the door. She goes to sit and pee, and Yuta and you just laugh, as she glares.

“What? Like I care. You’re like my boyfriend and my girlfriend.” You sigh, looking back down on your phone, as Yuta looks over at you.

“Oh shit, you’re bright red!” He teases, and you go even redder. “Who ya texting?” Like magic, the sound of an incoming message pops up.

“N-no one!” Maki finishes, washing her hands and peering at your phone, just in time for a text to pop off.

“Professor Dickhead!?”

“Shush!”

“Oh shit, white haired Professor!” Yuta says, peeking too, you hide your phone against your chest. “It was a nude, huh?”

“Shut up you two ugh!” You shove it into your purse then, crossing your arms, chin up in the air. “Was not.”

“Liar!”

That one was in unison.

“That dude is still begging for you. Let’s get home, huh?” Maki says, and you nod, because you want nothing to do with him, with anyone.

You only want…

As you get in the back seat, Maki and Yuta are going at it, and you use the moment of reprieve, seeing that text.

Professor Dickhead: I want to bury my face in that pretty pussy. Drink all that wetness up.

You get wetter, thighs sticking together, and your heart races. You should ignore it. But that’s not what you want, is it? You crave his attention, his touch, his everything. You want him to claim you.

You: Toru… not alone. In a car. Can’t get that horny.

You don’t check the phone until you’re back in your dorm, chugging ice water like crazy and popping two tylenol, preliminarily. You get ready for bed, in your little tank and shorts, brushing your teeth, and it’s not until you actually lay down that you check, it’s like this odd nightly routine now, seeing his texts.

You crave them.

You crave him.

Professor Dickhead: Tell me when you get that nice little ass home safe.

You: I’m home, Toru.

Professor Dickhead: In bed?

You: Mmhmm, bet you wish you were here.

Fuck, this alcohol made you bold.

You: Am drunk. Ignore.

Professor Dickhead: Just makes you speak the truth, brat.

You: Hush. I should sleep.

Professor Dickhead: I’m gonna cum so hard to a five second clip, that it’s actually gonna be embarrassing. Who even am I now.

You feel giddy, it’s as if something so dirty is stupidly romantic.

You: Want me that bad, huh?

Professor Dickhead: You played with that pussy thinking of me last night, didn’t you baby? I can tell.

You: Shut up.

Professor Dickhead: All puffy.

How'd he know!?

You: You’re annoying! Byeee!

He laugh reacts to that message, and you roll your eyes.

He was right.

You: Really gonna masturbate to me?

Professor Dickhead: You act like I haven’t already.

You: What!?

Professor Dickhead: It’s become a nightly routine. Can’t get that perfect pussy out of my mind. Sucks it’s attached to an annoying brat.

You: That’s how I feel about your tongue, so talented, but it’s attached to a six foot four jerk.

He angry reacts that one.

You giggle.

Professor Dickhead: Funny you thought of me at a party, all drunk and getting hit on. And I’m on your mind.

Your heart races at that, at the truth, and Gojo knows how to pull the truth out of you, out of anyone. You did only think of him, you had been since you met, but you couldn’t just say that. Right?

You: My pussy texted you not me.

He hearted that one, making you snort in laughter.

Professor Dickhead: Good, I like her better than you.

You: You’re such a dick.

Professor Dickhead: You like looking at that dick?

You: Shouldn’t you be spending time with your friends?

Professor Dickhead: Didn’t answer me.

You: It’s… pretty and… perfect. It’s huge. You already know it though, don’t need to hear it from me.

Professor Dickhead: Want your mouth on it. Wanna fuck your tight little throat.

You’re gushing wet, you yank off the blanket, whining, covering your face with your hands. Your entire body throbs at his words. Suddenly, it rings, and you freeze, staring at it with wide eyes. Gojo is calling.

“Y-yeah?” You ask, and he’s quiet, you can hear the music and laughter in the background.

“Play with it for me.” His voice is so fucking sexy, especially over the phone, that your hand instantly does as he commands, sliding under your little pajama shorts waistband then, and you cry out. “ Fuck. ”

“I… mmm…”

“Little circles.” He orders softly, and you do so, playing with that swollen little clit, pressing up, imagining his touch. “Wanna drink you up, taste so yummy.”

“I wanna suck you off. Drink your cum.” You whisper then, and hear him curse, something slamming shut. You giggle a bit, then gasp as you slide a finger inside of you, tiny and pathetic. You whine. “Fingers… yours… better, s’much better.”

“You want my fingers in you?”

“Yes, Gojo… fuck…”

“ Toru .” He corrects, biting the words out.

“ Toru. ” He moans softly at it, whispering your name then, urging you on, and you’re close with your own fingers so fast it’s unreal. “ Toru, m’close.”

“Cum for me baby, think of me there, licking it all clean.” He says, husky and quiet, and you start to feel your tummy clenching, and you’re whining, gripping the phone to your ear for more of his breathing. God, even his breathing was so sexy it made you already sloppy pussy wetter. “Let me hear it, baby please.”

“You never… say… please… Toru!” You cry out then, loud as fuck, sounds vibrating in your empty little dorm room, and your hand is now covered in an embarrassing amount of wetness.

“Send a vid of it now. I have to go… you’re making things stupidly hard for me you know.” His voice is gruff, and you giggle, breathlessly.

“You did this to yourself!”

“Send it.”

“Fuck… maybe.”

“Do it and I’ll have a reward Monday.”

“A gold sticker! Professor Gojo!”

“Bye, brat.”

He hangs up the phone, and your damn heart is racing, so fast you think it’ll fall out, there is a ringing in your ears, and your thighs ache. You sigh, then take your phone, spreading your thighs, playing with the soaking mess he made your cunt with a couple of words and some breathing over a call. Then you send it, nervously, before wiping yourself up.

You start to fade out, but you hear a buzz, and jerk a bit, in that stage of sleep where you feel like you’re falling. You bleary eyed look at the screen, and it’s a message from him, from…

Professor Gojo: Prettiest little pussy I’ve ever seen.

You: Whass gonna be my rward Toruu.

Your eyes cross, so exhausted. He laughs at your response.

Professor Dickhead: Lol, your fingers left the chat.

You: The fingers did too muchh work.

Professor Dickhead: Go to bed, silly, it'll be a surprise.

You: Am bed. G’night Toruu.

Professor Dickhead: Night, pretty.

You fall asleep smiling, hugging the phone.

***

On Monday, your hangover is finally gone, but the aftermath of that night is lingering in your head, as you’re in Professor Nanami’s class, the one right before Professor Gojo. Nanami is a class favorite, as he was so calm and kind, and of course the girls swoon over him and his model cheekbones. You’re a little lost adrift when he calls on you.

“Yes, Professor Nanami?” You ask, and he gives you a little turn of his lips, hazel eyes soft and tired, he looked like he really needed a nap. You flush when you think how he was there, when you were sending Gojo…

Shit. Focus.

"Can you tell us, in your view," Nanami began, his eyes locking onto yours now. "How does the court's interpretation of the Fourth Amendment in this decision impact privacy in the digital age?"

You fumble through your brain, scrolling through all the open windows that were honestly just Gojo, to get to the books of laws you’d been pouring over. Then you find it in your mind. People in the class are watching you, Yuta is in this one, and he gives you two big thumbs up, mouthing ‘you can do it’.

“Well, Professor, the notion of privacy was rooted in physical spaces, before technology advanced so much. And now, there’s really almost nothing that is private with our digital footprint, is there?”

“Indeed, not much is private. But shouldn’t we still strive for it?”

“Of course we should consider the implications for our digital lives. This decision primarily deals with privacy but also, in court cases, it happens at times where you need to see those things. That’s what subpoenas are for.”

He smiles, and at the end of class he pauses you for a moment.

“Yes, Professor Nanami?”

“Heard you helped in that case for Gojo. Good job.” You blush under the calm praise, as the class has filed out, leaving the two of you. Nanami takes his suit jacket off and you catch a glimpse of those action star muscles.

“Thank you so much, I didn’t do that much.”

“Gojo went on and on about you. So, I disagree. It’s not often a little narcissistic idiot compliments someone.” You laugh then, and cover your mouth, but Nanami laughs with you, the first time you've seen him do it, and he looks far too pretty.

What  pact did these three professors make with a demon to look so good, you wonder. A sacrifice surely.

But Gojo?

He talked about you!?

“That’s actually really sweet of him.” Nanami’s eyes narrow a bit, and you tense just a bit.

“Be careful, okay?” He says softly, tone shifting, and you flush bright red, looking around the empty room, stepping a little closer.

“We haven’t…”

“I really don’t wanna know. I’m assuming the worst because it’s Gojo. But where he can get out of anything, your career hasn’t begun. So…” He puts a hand on your shoulder, patting it. “Just be careful.”

“Of course, thank you. I promise I won’t let any studies slip.”

“I wouldn’t think you would. But don’t lose focus. All right…” He unbuttons his wrist sleeves a bit, rolling them up. “Head on out, I have way too many papers to grade here.”

“Of course, have a good day Nanami! I mean, Professor!”

He smirks as he sits down, rubbing his tired eyes. “Nanami is fine.”

You smile shyly then bounce out of the class, shutting the door with a loud click behind you, heart racing. Was your attraction so obvious?

Gojo…

Someone yanks you in a room then, and you hold back a scream, as a big hand comes to cover your mouth, and you look up to those blue eyes, dilated and looking way too intense. So intense you can’t stand it. You blink a bit, and he’s grinning, letting his hand drop.

“Miss Brat. Ready for the surprises?” You giggle breathlessly, before shoving at his chest.

“You’re ridiculous. Scared the fuck out of me.” Nanami’s words run through your mind then. “We need to be careful…”

“I know, that’s why I snatched you up.”

“Like a psycho!”

He waves his hands, then he holds out two bags, one a little black glittery one, like the way he made you when he hit your G spot-

Get it together, damn.

The other was a pretty little white one, also glittery, a bit like Gojo’s silky fucking hair-

Stop it.

“You didn’t have to actually get me anything, I… shouldn’t have even done that, I’m still embarrassed at…”

“Nope. Don’t say it. I have a yardstick.” You feel pressure in your lower tummy then, clutching and unclutching. He just laughs, so fucking gorgeous, throwing his head back. “Freak.”

“You! Heard you were bragging about me hmm?” You caress his chest then, and he tenses, then glares.

“One tiny bit, mmkay?” You grin. “Gonna get a big head.”

“Thank you though… which first?”

“Both are motivational, so they’ll help you succeed.” He’s looking devious, and your heart flips a bit, just what was he up to? “Black or white first?”

“Um… white. Like your hair-fuck!” He chuckles at that, handing you the bag, and you struggle not to blush and tremble under his gaze.

“You’re really cute.”

“Hush.” You gently open the bag, and there is a pretty little white box, long and rectangular. Your eyes meet his, studying your every expression intently. “Gojo, you didn’t have to-”

“Open it, Miss Brat.” His soft, deep tone orders you, and of course you obey, shit you’d do anything when he talks like that.

You gently open it, and it’s a beautiful bracelet, thick rope of silver, with one charm and two big colorful beads, bright blue. You finger the charm delicately, and it’s a charm of the law scales, bright silver. You blink back emotions, looking at it, and then back up at him.

You didn’t have much in the way of parents, and with your lack of boyfriend history, no one had ever gotten you anything like this. You feel tears prick your eyes then, swiping them away and gently pulling it out of the box, struggling to keep yourself together.

“Hey, you okay pretty?” He asks softly, different from his usual teasing tone, and you realize tears are falling.

“It’s so pretty, I don’t… you should have gotten me…”

“It’s motivational. Here.” He takes the clasp, and grabs your wrist, putting it on his chest. “This is because you killed it at court. The more times you excel, I’ll add charms to it.”

“Toru… I…” You’re crying, fuck. He wipes your tears.

“You cryin, brat?” You just nod.

You’re so pretty when you’re crying, those tears flowing down your pretty cheeks, big eyes glittering as you look up at him. You are so small, so open. He’d been dreaming of you constantly, since that random night. Yeah, he’d thought you were beautiful, but when he had kissed you?

Gojo had been with countless women, fuck he’d shared women with his best friend casually, but you? The way you tasted, how wet you get, those eyes after he’d made you cum, it was the most addicting thing. More addicting than candy, Gojo’s only real addiction, you tasted better.

Your hand shakes violently, as the silver bracelet rests on your delicate wrists, and he takes it gently, kissing it, watching your lips part, those fuck me eyes in full force. God, the way you looked at him? It fucked him up, made him want to say fuck everything and fuck you then and there. Keep you well fucked, too, so all these guys he saw look at you would fuck off.

Possessive, he felt possessive, of a girl that he’s not dating. A girl he hasn’t even fucked. A girl with a bright future, that he didn’t wanna fuck up.

But…

For you?

“Toru, no one has ever gotten me anything like this.” He pouts a bit at that, tilting his head, pretty face concentrated on you.

“No one? It’s just a pandora, silly.” He taps your nose, but then he has to swipe more tears. “Not even like…”

“Don’t have a family really.” He pauses, brushing your hair back softly, letting you speak calmly. “And we all know I’m shit at having a life. So no boys.”

“Well, fuck them, anyway. Don’t get so excited. It’s motivation.”

You smile tremulously, hugging him around his waist then. “I love it, Satoru, just perfect. Thank you so much.”

He hugs you back a bit, then taps your back. “You’re welcome. Look all from letting me see a five second tease vid.”

“Satoru!” He snorts in laughter.

“You’re such a crybaby.” He nods to the other bag then.

You were so touched by a bracelet, which was nothing to him, Satoru Gojo was filthy rich, born rich, then busted his ass to get more. But if it wasn’t for the entirety of the situation, he’d have you dripping in diamonds. Fuck, naked, dripping with diamonds, god he needed to see you fully, when and how could you all?

It’s a consuming thought.

You crying was even hotter? Fuck.

“What’s this one?” You hold out a black box curiousy, thicker and bigger, then when you open it, you slam it shut. “Toru!”

He’s grinning like the Joker now, the Mad Hatter, a psycho. “This will be your stressor, keeping quiet and focused when I use it on you in class tomorrow.”

“No! No, no, uh uh!” He just grins wide, and as you’re holding what is literally a vibrator for panties, and he’s wiggling a remote control, you freak out.

“Let’s try it on.”

“Satoru… you psycho…” He’s bending down, on his knees in front of you, and his breath is on your thigh, sliding up your skirt. You fall back, until you’re leaned against the door frame.

“Pressure, Miss Brat. Now… let’s…” Then Satoru Gojo has hooked your panties in his fingers, yanking em down.

What… the fuck were you in for?

Chapter 5

Chapter on Ao3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56895382/chapters/146269327

[mikkomacko]

i feel like i’m being greedy that i keep asking stuff but i just gobble up everything you put out stg

but can you do a lil blurb of how you mentioned nico gets grumpy about jack teasing him about their sex life and reader babying him

i love big boss man but i need her to baby him ( & maybe scold jack too) 🤩💓

A/n: this isn’t so much reader babying Nico. It’s more her letting Nico be tough mafioso man to Jack lol but I can do another with her taking care of grumpy nico if you’d like 🤍

~~~~~

“Jack I’m paying to renovate that whole fucking place for you, stop bitching.”

As if he’d been physically kicked, Jack slumps into his seat at the dinner table, sadly swirling his fork around in his pasta.

Blue eyes look at you, wide and begging. He’s egging you on, you know it. He wants you to sigh, turn to Nico and scold him for being too rough on the boy. It’s what you typically do when Nico gets fed up and snaps at Jack. But tonight he’s right.

Nico had purchased a loft apartment for Jack and Luke and all the younger boys to live in a few years ago. Way before you were in the picture. Through meticulous planning (and his incredible love for his boys) Nico has put aside a whole fund to revamp the place into the perfect bachelor pad for them.

Unfortunately while it’s being worked on, Jack and Luke have moved into the house with you two. And Jack has been making it everyone’s problem.

“I like staying here,” Luke butts in, pasta sauce smeared on the corner of his mouth. “My room is huge, there’s a pool, and we get family dinners.”

“It’s too cold to even use the pool,” Jack sasses his brother, and Luke slurps back a bite of spaghetti.

“Maybe I just like the sound of the water Jack,” the youngest Hughes snips. “We did grow up by a lake, idiot.”

You can sense the oncoming fight, looking to Nico at the head of the table with wide eyes. He’s sipping his red wine, empty dinner plate in front of him and he raises an eyebrow as if to say ‘what are you gonna do about it baby?’

Scoffing, you look between Jack and Luke. “Ok, family dinner is over. You, go wash up and get ready for bed.” You instruct, addressing the older brother.

Jack huffs, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Luke. Knowing he’s going to whine about his brother, you now address the boy sitting next to you.

“And you, finish that plate and then wash up too. You’re both on dish duty and if there’s any whining you’ll be doing it again tomorrow.”

A pleased smirk curls at Jack’s lips and he scoops up his plate before moving to the kitchen. Nico places his now empty glass on the table, using the napkin on his lap to wipe the corners of his mouth. When he drops it onto the table, a cheeky smile has taken over his face.

“Do you need instructions too mister?” You taunt, stacking your plates with his. He grunts, relaxing back into his chair and spreading his thighs out.

“M’just admiring your work boss,” he teases, winking at you. A giggle bubbles out of you, cheeks heating up and you shake your head at him. “Wanna show me how you get them to listen like that?”

“Oh yeah, I can show you a lot of things.” You purr, sliding your sock clad foot across the floor until you meet his shin. Teasingly, you drag your toes up until the apples of his cheeks have grown splotchy.

“You two are disgusting.”

Luke’s words make you jump, having forgotten he was there. Before you can say anything he’s gathering his own dishes and disappearing into the kitchen, shaking that messy head of curls as he goes.

You and Nico snicker, admiring each other with teasing grins for a moment longer before he pushes his chair out. Following his lead, you both take your dirty dishes and glasses to the sink.

Jack and Luke are loading the dishwasher when you enter, backs to you as they talk and hand off objects from the sink.

“Thanks boys,” you say, placing both yours and Nico’s things by the sink. They sigh in unison, Jack just grunting in response and Nico flicks the back of his head as he walks away from them.

A little guilty, you step between the two, sliding an arm around both of their waists. “Turn off the lights before bed ok? I’ll have breakfast in the morning for you both?”

Simultaneously, they pause and look down at you. “Pancakes?”

“Of course,” you agree, and they share a knowing grin before looking back at you and nodding.

Rising to your toes, you peck a gentle kiss to Jack’s head. “Goodnight J,” you murmur, then do the same to Luke. “Night Lukey.”

You step back, let them return to doing dishes. “Night y/n,” they say in unison and you slip under Nico’s awaiting arm. Pinching his side, Nico frowns at you before rolling his eyes.

“See you boys in the morning “ Nico grumbles and you laugh when Luke turns his head back, smiling like a kid on Christmas.

“Night papa.”

Annoyance pinches at Nico’s face. It only gets worse when Jack looks over his shoulder with a devilish grin. “Did ya see her kiss me goodnight boss? You better take care of her or I will.”

The wink he sends you makes Nico scoff and before he can say anything you’re pushing him towards the stairs.

Nico’s huffing and puffing as he climbs the stairs. “Oh I’ll take care of you, alright,” he grunts, eyebrows scrunched together. “Always fucking take care of ya.”

And he does. So you lovingly rub his back as you make your way to the main bedroom, and when Nico closes and locks the door, you let him toss you onto the mattress, ass up of course because that’s his favorite. And then he’s taking his time with you.

If Jack keeps up his teasing, you’re in for a long couple of nights.

~~~~

You meet the boys the next day at The Rock around lunchtime. They had a meeting earlier but Nico wants to take you out to eat after.

By the time you get there, a few have already dispersed but the usual characters are still hanging around the booths with your boyfriend.

Who doesn’t look so pleased now that you actually see him. Eyebrows furrowing, you look up at Timo who has a similar look of concern on his face.

“Uh-oh,” he whispers and you nod, closing the rest of the distance between you and the tables.

“Oh there she is!” Jack hollers when he sees you, but you’re watching Nico. Nico, whose cheeks are splotchy and jaw ticking. Nico whose eyes look even darker than usual, a crease between them. Uh-oh is right, you think. He looks at you, places his elbows on the table and hunches over with a shake of his head.

“I’m surprised you made it,” Jack keeps going, and when you look at him in confusion he’s fighting back giggles. “You and Nico had a long night.”

Oh, you realize, looking back at Nico with apprehension. Jack has gotten into his usual habit of taunting Nico about his sex life. Something Nico doesn’t ever like to share, especially with the boys.

He’s raking his fingers through his hair, looking anywhere but you or Jack. The rest of the boys at the table are snickering, except for Luke who looks to Timo with wide eyes. Within seconds they’re scrambling away together, muttering something about drinks behind the bar.

Ignoring the Hughes boy, you address your boyfriend. “Ready to go Nico?”

He looks up at the sound of his name, nose flaring when he clears his throat and nods. Rising from his chair, you walk over to him and take a hold of his hands.

“Hi,” you whisper, placing his palms on your waist. He pulls you into him, presses the lightest kiss on your cheek.

“Hi baby,” he grumbles, and you touch the splotchy part on the left side of his face in an attempt to calm him down.

Not that it gets the chance to work.

“Wait before you go,” Jack is interrupting, pushing himself up to sit on the backrest of the booth. He rubs his hands together, shares a look with Mercer and laughs.

“Could you pick up some earplugs for tonight? Nico is just so fucking loud and if I have to hear him come one more time I’m gonna-“

Nico’s grip on you has tightened, so much so that his blunt nails sting through the fabric of your shirt. He’s angry, so fucking angry you can physically feel him trying to keep himself from reaching across the table and dragging Jack over it by the collar of his shirt. You know he wouldn’t hurt Jack or even scold him for that matter, not without your permission at least. He knows how protective you are over them.

Even when he’s angry, he’s the sweetest man you know.

“Oh baby,” you murmur when he closes his eyes, lashes fluttering with annoyance. Running your hands through his hair, you tune out whatever Jack is still yammering about and lean into to kiss just below Nico’s ear.

“Go scare him,” you whisper so just he can hear you. Nico pulls back instantly, eyes snapping open and looking at you for reassurance. You bite back a smirk, nodding. “Put him back in line boss.”

That’s all Nico needs before he’s releasing you and moving back to the table. Just as you suspected, he reaches over the booth and grips the collar of Jack’s shirt in his fist.

The bar falls deathly quiet, everyone holding their breath as Nico yanks Jack forward onto his hands and knees across the tabletop.

Wide eyed and terrified, Jack scrambles for his footing and stares back at Nico. “Since you’re so fucking tired you can leave,” he growls, and you take a second to admire how hot he looks when he’s angry.

“Nico I’m sorry-“

“For the week,” Nico grunts. “You’re out. And if what I do in my own fucking house is such a problem, you can set up at Haula’s. I’m sure you’ll have fun with the wife and kids.”

Jack is already shaking his head when Nico releases him, nudging him back into his seat.

“Please don’t make me stay with the babies, all they do is cry-“

“You’ll fit right in.” Nico barks, and then he’s turning back to you, winking mischievously. You take his outstretched hand, wiggle your fingers at Jack.

“Y/n,” Jack whines. “Don’t let him kick me out, please?”

“I’ll let Kristin know you’ll be over later,” you tease. Jack pouts, sinks back into his seat and thumps his head against the table.

And when you and Nico pick Jack up from Haula’s in the morning, he’s all apologies and thank-you’s for letting him stay at the house.