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tojicide · 2 days ago

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SANTA TELL ME! 𝓍 JJK MEN.

summary. they reluctantly join you in your holiday festivities by dressing up for christmas. their present? cumming down a different type of chimney. with gojo, toji, geto, nanami.

warnings. fem! reader, wife/girlfriend! reader, unprotected, semi-public, oral ( both receiving ), mating press, prone bone, missionary, pet names, breeding / breeding kink, bound wrists, hair pulling, creampie, brief mentions of pregnancy.

★ satoru gojo — santa claus.

“don’t make me go,” he whines, plopping down onto your bed face-first. you didn’t even have to see his face to know that he was pouting, that pink bottom lip of his jutted beyond comprehension.

you huff, spinning around from the mirror to look at his miserable figure. to no one’s surprise, there he was, the strongest sorcerer of all behaving like a petulant child over having to dress up for a whopping two hours.

begrudgingly, you place a hand on his leg, rubbing up and down to gather his attention. “it won’t be so bad. stop your whining and get dressed, gojo.”

satoru picks his head up almost immediately, his brows knit in confusion. “gojo? oh, so now these children are turning my own wife against me!“

and by children, he means the students at jujutsu high school who were promised the satoru gojo’s presence at their holiday event. all he had to do was go rub elbows with the staff and students, wish a few people a ‘meeeerry christmas!’ and be on his way. but of course he can’t be reasonable and do what he’s asked. who would satoru gojo be if not consistently difficult?

“what are you even— satoru, just get up!” you exclaim, tugging on his leg to pull him halfway down the bed.

he groans out. “i mean— they don’t even believe in santa claus anymore! what is the point?”

you scoff, tugging his leg once more. “don’t make me repeat myself or i’ll take away my promise of giving you a ‘special present’ once this is over.”

and it was incredible how fast he’d gotten dressed, his lanky frame now dressed in rich red fabric from head to toe. a santa claus costume. as he exits the closet, he is already wearing a frown. it’s borderline infuriatingly how handsome he is even when he wears such a downcast expression.

“aww!” you beam, cupping his face in admiration. you pinch his cheeks, watching as they become cherry red from both the contact and your reaction. “you look so cute!”

satoru’s face flushes, a scoff leaving him. “only cute? i must look horrific in that case.”

he plops down onto the stool in front of your vanity dresser, not daring to look at his reflection. just as he was about to complain for what felt like the hundredth time—he pauses. brow raised, he glances up at you with eyes swirling with mischief.

“oh, mrs. clauuuuus,” he sings, leaning back against the dresser. “i think i need a bit of practice before the big event. y’know… as first-time santa and all.”

you tilt your head, your expression portraying your obvious confusion. “practice? practice what?”

he stretches out his arms, beckoning you closer with his hands. “practice being ol’ saint nick, of course. need a pretty woman like you to come sit on my lap ‘n tell me what she wants for christmas. it’ll really get me in the right state of mind, i promise.”

you both know better. if the already growing erection beneath the fabric of his pants wasn’t telling enough, the haze of neediness in his gaze would have communicated his true intentions just as sufficiently.

with a rough sigh, you oblige, taking a sideways seat in his lap. your deep red dress rides up just a bit, revealing the smooth expanse of your thighs to the wandering eyes of your husband. he hardly bats an eye when you chuck a quiet insult of: “for christmas, i want you to stop complaining and let me finish my makeup.”

satoru’s hands map out your creamy skin—from your ankles to your knees to your thighs—all while you pay him no mind and continue to apply your lip liner. he raises his brows, bright eyes fitting to your lip balm as you apply it to your plush lips.

“ooh, what flavor you got?” he coos, leaning forward to try and capture your lips in a kiss.

you place a hand on his face, squishing his cheeks to make him form an adorable kissy face as you just hardly peck his lips. “peppermint.”

he licks his lips, taking as much as he can get from you for the time being. “yummy. can i have some more?”

satoru almost startles when you bring the festive lip balm to his lips, swiping it over his mouth in precise strokes. “sweeeets,” he whines, snatching the small tube from your hand to set it down on the dresser. “can’t i just have a little kiss? just one, honey, promise.”

you huff, shaking your head. “you’re telling me i just wasted two precious swipes of my lip balm on your lips when you didn’t even want any?”

"nuh-uh. wasted nothing, baby," he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. he then leans into you, his strong hands settling on your hips as he pulls you in just the same. "buuuut if you're so concerned about your precious chapstick..." he speaks, his nose brushing against your cheek. "why don't you come ‘n get it back?"

you hum in contemplation, bringing your thumb up to wipe away the moisture from his bottom lip. kissing with lip products on was messy enough as is, and truth be told, nothing about kissing satoru was clean. he kissed you like he wanted to devour you whole, like he was proposing to your lips with each nibble and lick.

“gimme a sec,” you murmur, accurately and thoroughly wiping away the gloss from his lips. he let you, too.

satoru’s lips part as you smudge away the gloss, his tongue darting out to catch a stray bit of the sweet and minty flavor. he wraps his lips around the pad of your thumb, suckling like the insatiable minx he is before you pull it away from his tongue.

"theeeere we go," he purrs. "all clean ‘n ready for my gorgeous wife.” he leans back against the edge of the dresser, spreading his legs slightly to expertly maneuver you to straddle his thighs.

his hands just barely slip beneath the fabric of your dress, thumbs rubbing circles onto your hip bones. "c’mere, baby," he whispers, his desperation on full display without a care in the world. "lemme show you what else these lips can do besides waste your lip balm."

and your self restraint slips away the moment your lips slot into his, his breath catching in his throat as if he hadn’t truly expected you to let him taste you. with the gift that you’ve just bestowed upon him, he slips his tongue into your mouth, a throaty groan omitting his throat.

shamelessly, his hands slide around the curve of your hips, firmly grasping onto your ass. he bucks his hips upward, pressing his hard bulge to your clothed cunt, a choked whimper leaving him as he begins to kiss his way down your throat.

“want my present a little early,” he murmurs, nipping at your collarbone before his wet tongue swipes out to soothe the sting. “please?”

you hum, lips parting as you begin to instinctively roll your hips back and forth along the imprint of his length. it was a heady feeling, knowing just how much you affected him, how much he yearns for every inch of you no matter the time nor the place. “but—”

all the while, he pulls at the neckline of your dress, tugging it down just enough to reveal one of your breasts. “mm,” he rumbles in reply, lips latching onto your nipple the moment he saw it. his tongue works around your areola, lathering your sensitive skin up with his saliva before pulling away with a wet pop. “pleeease? just the tip, baby. i won’t be greedy.”

his fingers are already blindly pulling down the zipper of your dress, watching with blown pupils as more and more of your smooth skin becomes his to see. to touch. to taste. to love. he isn’t sure if this is such a good idea, his dick already twitching in his pants just from the sight of his beautiful wife, but he can’t resist you. not now, not ever.

“o-okay,” you agree, a hand slipping into his soft locks of white hair as his talented mouth sucks on your neglected breast as if was revealed to him. “counts as half your gift then.”

satoru nods his head in understanding, rising from the stool with you in his arms. your dress falls from your body, pooling on the hardwood floor as he sets you down on the bed. he was out of his festive outfit just as fast as he’d gotten into it, the holly jolly clothing discarded messily on the floor.

his mouth presses open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of your torso. your breasts, your stomach, the curve of your waist, your hips, the mound of your pussy. your back arches into the sensation, hands grasping firmly onto his strong shoulders as he crawls over you.

fingers hooking beneath your underwear, he tugs the damp fabric down your legs, tossing them carelessly across the room. it’s then that his lovesick eyes rove over your skin, all bare and glistening from both your natural beauty and the slick of his saliva from kissing his way around your body.

“well, aren’t you just the most beautiful present a man could ask for,” he smiles, hands finding the back of your thighs as he pushes them up into your chest. propping himself up on one arm, he still nearly folds you in half by his weight pressing into you. his free hand guides his blushed tip to your drooling heat.

he drags the head of his cock along your folds, groaning at the feeling of his pre coating your already wet skin. “’m so lucky,” he whisers, another throaty moan escaping him the moment he pushes his tip inside of you.

your hands claw at his biceps, head falling back on the plush mattress. “no, i-i’m the lucky one,” you tell him, earning a choked chuckle in response.

satoru fucks you shallowly, keeping his promise of just the tip as he gazes down at you with such adoration that you’re surprised you haven’t exploded into pretty little hearts. “mmh— we can both be lucky,” he rasps, his free hand slipping between the two of you for his thumb to circle your clit.

your body responds so well to his touch, inner walls clenching down on the head of his dick. a soft mewl escapes your kiss bitten lips, clutching particular hard onto his arm once he applies a heavy finger to your swollen nub. “j-just another inch,” you suggest, flashing him a wry smile.

he was quick to nod, returning your grin. “mhmm, was thinking the same thing. such a smart girl you are, readin’ my mind like that.”

it was a shock to no one as one more inch turned to two, then three, four, five, six… all up until he was balls deep inside of your dripping cunt, thrusting into you like a madman who’s head was entirely occupied by thoughts of his beloved wife and her perfect pussy.

satoru promised not to be greedy, but you both knew he was anything but when it came to you. like a moth to a flame, he was forever longing for you, his wife, in any way he could have you.

folded into a mating press, your velvety walls shift to accommodate him. the wet sounds of your cunt sounding in the air with each heavy rock of his hips that nudges his cock impossibly deeper inside of you, making you feel like you’re floating and seeing stars just the same.

“fuuuuck,” he drawls, hands planted firmly on the back of your thighs as he keeps you nice and open for him. his hips drive into you with passion, his skin slapping against yours with each movement he makes, filling the room with sounds of your shared pleasure. “takin’ me so well, doin’ so damn good. made just for me, baby.”

your eyes slip shut as you cry out, pussy clenching down on him like a vice, proving to the both of you that you truly were made for each other. “kiss me,” you pant, hands reaching for his face to tug him down to you.

and satoru has never been one to deny his pretty little wife anything she desires, his lips crashing into yours as you swallow up his sounds of overwhelming pleasure. it’s all teeth and tongue, saliva coating your lips as your nails dig into his face, holding him in place as his cock drags in and out of you.

you taste him on your tongue, just as he does with you, the tingling sensation lingering on your tastebuds leaving you absolutely dumb and needy for your husband. he reaches for your left hand, lacing your fingers together while his other cups your cheek, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead on yours.

“tell me what your—hah—real christmas wish is, baby,” he teases, nipping at your bottom lip with his pearly white teeth.

you whine, back arching off the bed as his cock hits your sweet spot just right. vision blurry and clouded by your adoration for your husband, you kiss him as you whisper your answer. “you.”

eyes widening in surprise, a goofy grin stretches across his handsome face. “you really are in luck, sweets. i can give ya juuust that.”

and then, his strokes slow, opting for a more languid approach to making love to you as you both begin to approach your climaxes. moans, whines, kisses, teary eyes—between each and every exchange between the two of you, one thing remains constant.

your love.

it doesn’t take long for you to find your release, an airy cry fleeting into the room as a thick ring of cream coats his cock. spurred on by bringing you so much pleasure, satoru kisses your cheek. your forehead. your nose. your eyebrow. your lips.

and with a few more thrusts, he bottoms out inside of you, stuffing you full to the brim with both his cock and his seed. sticky and warm, the substance leaking out of you serving as a physical embodiment of how much he loves you. how much he loves making love to you.

pulling back with a breathless smile, satoru kisses you once more. “y’know… maybe i should’ve kept the suit on. didn’t know my pretty little wife had a thing for mr. claus.”

rolling your eyes, you wrap your arms around his neck, holding him close as you whisper in his ear. “…mhm. go clean up and get dressed, satoru. i made you get ready an hour early just to make sure we had enough time.”

“…psh. c’moooon, baby, are you serious?”

★ toji fushiguro — the grinch.

“ow. ya got that shit in my eye,” he grumbles, glaring up you like you had just punched him in the face.

you giggle, shaking your head as you pick up a tinier makeup brush, swiping it around his mouth to create the illusion of the makeup look that you’re currently working on—using none other than your husband as the canvas. the color green covers his entire face, an even darker shade contouring the minuscule details of the grinch’s face.

“isn’t funny,” he grumbles once more, slumping his shoulders. though, he doesn’t stand up from the edge of the bed, nor does he attempt to jerk his head away at any point.

it’s in that moment that toji realizes just how soft he’s become for you. never in his life would he ever imagine that he’d be here, sitting at the edge of his shared bed with his wife standing between his parted legs, doing his makeup to make him look like her favorite holiday character.

not to mention, you have him wearing a fuzzy headband to push his dark locks of hair out of his face. a fuzzy. headband. there’s cute little reindeer antlers on it too, making him look even more adorable than he’d like to. he was such a goner, far too in love with you to put up any kind of real protest.

you work with your tongue poking out between your lips, brow furrowed in concentration as you apply a bit of green eyeliner to his lips—using it as lip liner instead. “hold still, babe! hold still!”

“this shit tastes like sewer water. are ya almost done?”

“well, you aren’t exactly supposed to lick it. wait— how do you know what sewer water tastes like?”

and to that, you don’t get an actual explanation. instead, you receive a smack on your ass and a firm squeeze from the man sitting in front of you. “mind y’er business, woman.”

minding your business is exactly what you do, returning to your task of finishing up the makeup look to the best of your ability with a wide, beaming smile on your pretty face. toji will never live this down, he’s sure of it, but getting to see that smile of yours was more than enough justification for this entire experience.

“aaaaand…” you sing, reaching for a nearby hand mirror. you spin it around, showing him the finish product. “finished! do you like it?”

toji can’t help his facial expression as it contorts in horror, his jaw slacking while his eyes nearly bulge out of his head. his gaze flits up to you, his hands on your hips giving them a firm squeeze. “tell me this comes off, doll.”

you pout, visibly deflating as you hear his reaction. it wasn’t that you weren’t expecting it, because you absolutely were, but you had a habit of guilt tripping him. how else could you have convinced him to let you do his makeup in the first place? think smarter, not harder.

“it comes off,” you confirm, putting down the mirror on your vanity desk. you place your hands on his shoulders, sighing heavily as you shake your head. “soooo… can i get a pic before we go?”

“no.” toji was already in a piss poor mood after agreeing to go to your company’s annual christmas party, especially now that you made him dress up and actually follow the theme for the event.

you sigh, dropping your head onto his shoulder. “fiiine. you’re such a party pooper.”

he has no problem with that. at least there won’t be any physical evidence of this ordeal that you’ve dragged him into. he watches with narrowed eyes as you maneuver around the room, dressed up as ‘martha may’ or whoever the fuck from the movie ‘how the grinch stole christmas’. you looked sexy, per usual, but he was more so concerned with making sure that you stuffed makeup wipes into your purse.

that was your one agreement—you’d have to let him take it off whenever he wanted to. boring, you think, but understandable.

as much as you wanted to think that toji would indulge you just for a little while, the second the two of you pulled into the parking lot of your workplace, he was already digging into your purse to find the makeup wipes.

“toji!” you scold, attempting to reason with him. “c’moooon, babe. everybody’s dressing up, it’s not just us!”

“doooon’t care,” he mumbles, fishing out the package. he then turns to you, catching a glimpse of your pouty expression. bottom lip tugged downward, eyes soft and full of hope. fuck, it tugged on his heartstrings and you knew it. “damn it, woman. don’t look at me like that.”

you lean over the center console of the car, placing a hand on his bicep. toji relents, tipping his head back as he groans aloud. “fine, fine. you can take a picture before i wipe this mess off.”

one picture turned into many, all of which were different poses and expressions that you forced toji to do just for you. kissy faces, his tongue sticking out, holding up a peace sign… yeah, you’re definitely using those against him. but hey, he probably won’t mind. he loves you too much.

by the time the two of you finally make it into the party, you notice the immediate scowl that sets into his handsome features. his jaw was tense, his eyes narrowed, and he made sure to have a hand hooked around your waist at all times. a bit possessive, you think, but maybe he’s just trying to make sure that you don’t manage to find another grinch on this christmas eve.

“fix your face, toji,” you quip, patting his cheek with your palm. you pucker your lips, silently asking for a kiss, to which he indulges you with yet another grumble.

he leans dips his head, nuzzling into your neck with a soft growl. “for you, baby, i’ll suffer through it. just don’t expect me to enjoy myself.”

his hand slides up your side, fingertips grazing the underside of your breast through the fabric of your little festive dress. he lingers there, thumb brushing over your nipple in tease. “but i’d much rather be somewhere private with ya, y’know... tearin’ that pretty dress off and buryin’ my face between your legs ‘til—“

you gasp, lightly swatting his hand. if that weren’t enough, the vulgarity of his words are enough to make your face heat up, your gaze flickering away from your husband to see if anyone else in the event had been watching you closely enough.

“toji!” you scold in a whisper yell, snapping your gaze back in his direction. “you know you can’t talk to me like that in public, especially not here.”

toji chuckles lowly, clearly unrepentant. "what’d i do? ‘m just makin’ conversation.” he leans in even closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he speaks. "bet you're nice ‘n wet just thinkin’ about me eating that sweet pussy of yours. want me to bend you over the table right here ‘n show everyone what a needy girl you are f’r me?"

you swat his hand away once again, smoothing the fabric of your dress over as if his touch hadn’t been there at all. you catch the eye of a group of your colleagues, giving them a wave and a polite smile before you turn back to your husband, your expression faltering.

“i’m the needy girl, but you are the one who can’t keep his hands to himself,” you retort, raising a brow at him. “hm. good try, honey. i’m going to go speak with my colleagues over there. you’re more than welcome to join me.”

toji scoffs, rolling his eyes. "yeah, yeah, i'll be a good boy ‘n play nice." he scoffs under his breath, but follows you over to your coworkers nonetheless.

as you chat with them, he stands slightly behind you, one hand resting possessively on your lower back. every so often, his fingers dip under the hem of your dress, brushing against the bare skin there. shameless, he is.

"so," one of your male coworkers says to you, leaning in a bit too close for toji’s liking. "looking gorgeous tonight. where’s the lucky husband?"

toji supposed this is his fault, having never attended one of these events alongside you before, but was this guy fucking dumb? who else would be all over you like he is right now unless he was your husband?

his hand tightens on your hip, pulling you slightly against his chest. "you blind? where else would i be?" he asks, voice deceptively calm.

the coworker holds up his hands in a placating gesture. "hey, hey, no problem, man. just admiring the view, you know how it is. can't blame a guy for looking, right?"

"nah, i don’t get it. fuck is y’er problem?" he growls, attempting to step around you and get to the man.

“toji!” you murmur, pressing back against him to keep him at a safe distance. you nearly forgot how quick his temper could rise considering that you rarely saw it yourself.

your coworker's face pales, stammering out an apology before scurrying away. toji watches him go, then he turns to you, eyes softening. "let's get outta here, yeah?" he says, offering his arm. "i've had enough of this. gonna take you somewhere i can put my hands on ya without getting you fired."

he guides you towards the exit, hand resting on your hip while you lean into his side. once outside, he opens the car door, not so gently helping you into the driver’s seat. "i’d be mad too," he murmurs, laying a smack on your ass as he makes his way over to the passenger side. "if i saw ya goin’ home with another man, i’d be tryin’ to enter a dick measurin’ competition too.”

a strong hand cups your sex through your panties, fingers rubbing slow, tight circles. "mm. can’t wait to taste her." he captures your lips in a searing kiss, tongue delving deep to claim every inch of your mouth. "c’mon… let's go home so i can get ya out of this dress and show you just how much i appreciate you. ‘n hey… maybe if you're really good, i'll let ya ride my face 'til y’er screaming."

you roll your eyes with a chuckle as you tug her dress back down to its proper length. “you beg me to ride your face as is,” you joke, even though it’s most certainly true.

toji was insatiable, and he would (and has) eat your pussy for hours if given the chance. you haven’t ever had to ask him for it, and you probably never will.

just as you reach to stick the key in the ignition, toji grabs your keys from your hand, holding them up with a smirk. "ah ah ah, not so fast." he crowds you, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck while his other hand slides beneath the fabric of your dress, fingers grazing your panties

"y’know the rules, doll. no ridin’ my face 'til you prove how much you want it." he leans in close, teeth grazing your earlobe. "so. why don't you lean on over ‘n show me that pretty mouth of yours?”

you raise your brows, glancing around the parking lot in a frenzy. “but— toji, we can’t.” you blink a few times before you pull back just enough to find his eyes once more. “what if someone sees?”

toji snickers, eyes glinting with mischief and lust. love, too, of course— but he’s too busy being a hard ass to act on it. "let 'em see. let the whole damn world watch as my sexy little wife sucks my cock." he tugs your wrist, pressing your palm against the large bulge in his pants. "feel that? feel how hard you make me? i need y’er mouth on me, baby. now." his other hand gently slides into your hair, though he grips tightly as he guides your head down. "open wide, doll. show me what a good girl you can be."

you don’t protest as he guides you down, mouthing at the bulge in his pants while you both work to pull them down. your heart is beating out of your chest, nerves aching from the stress of potentially being caught by sucking your husband’s dick in the parking lot one of your work colleagues. “no need to be so rough with me,” you playfully scold, shaking your head as you work to undo his belt. “insatiable, you are.”

toji grunts as you fumble with his belt, hips rocking forward impatiently. "quit stallin’ ‘n suck my dick already."

when you finally free his cock, it springs out, already hard and leaking. he fists a hand in your hair, guiding your mouth to his tip. "fuck, your lips feel s’good wrapped around me. so perfect." he thrusts upward shallowly, letting you adjust to his size before pushing deeper. his other hand grips the side of the car, the material creaking under his strength. "thaaat’s it, take it all. gonna fuck this pretty mouth 'til ya choke on it."

toji throws his head back with a groan as your throat constricts around him. his abdomen tenses up, both of his hands working to tug your hair up into a makeshift ponytail. "yeah, jus’ like that. take it deep, baby, there ya go." he sets a brutal pace, hips snapping forward as he fucks your face. spit drips down your chin, your nose pressed against his pelvis with every thrust. "shit, ’m gonna cum already," he pants, fingers tightening in your hair. you made him feel like a virgin each and every time you went down on him. “swallow it."

with a final, hard thrust, he buries himself in your mouth and lets go. "shit," he grunts, cock pulsing as he shoots his load directly down your throat. he holds you in place, forcing you to swallow around him. not that you would pull away. breathing hard, he lets up on you. he tucks himself back into his pants with a sated smile. "now thaaat's what i call a earnin’ it, baby. c’mon, let's get home so i can return the favor."

you roll your eyes, snatching your keys back from his grasp. you wipe your face with the back of your hand, intentionally slapping dangerously close to his crotch as you sit up, earning a yelp of warning. “you’re a real jerk, toji,” you scoff, sticking the key into the ignition.

toji chuckles as he properly settles into the passenger seat, sprawling out lazily as if he owned the vehicle. "yeeeah, yeah, i know. but you love me anyway." he reaches over, hand sliding up your thigh as you begin to drive. "besides. i'm the one who has to deal with all these assholes pervin’ on what's mine, some road head is just… a little reassurance." his fingers creep higher, teasing along the edge of your panties. "get us home quick, doll. my dick’s gettin’ hard again."

the car swerves slightly as your breath hitches, his touch igniting the ever-present spark of desire between you. toji simply grins, clearly pleased with the effect he has on you. you just roll your eyes at his words, resting your elbow on the windowsill of the car, your temple resting on your closed fist.

you swat his hand as his fingers brush against the damp spot of your panties, sliding his hand back down to a more appropriate position on your thigh. “as if. you can wait.”

toji scowls, clearly displeased with being denied. "tch, fine. be that way." he withdraws his hand entirely, folding his arms across his chest with a huff. his eyes drift shut, long lashes fanning out against his cheeks. he tries to act upset, but within moments, his hand is already settling back onto your thigh.

you glance over at him as you drive, taking in the peaceful lines of his face. even in sleep, he looks intimidating, his features sharp and angular. but there's a softness to him too, a vulnerability that only you get to see. a simplicity that’s reserved only for you.

when you pull into the driveway of your shared home, you reach over and shakes his shoulder gently. "hey, honey. we're home."

toji stirs, blinking blearily as he takes in the familiar surroundings of their driveway. he stretches languidly, the movement causing his shirt to ride up and expose a peek of toned abs. "mmm, already? thought you'd make me wait longer as punishment for the whole 'road head' thing." he hums, pecking your cheek before he exits the car.

he rounds the vehicle to open your door for you, ever the gentleman despite his earlier crudeness. as you slide out, he pulls you against his chest, one hand sliding possessively down to grip your ass. "let's get inside. 'm still hard as a rock and need to be buried in that sweet pussy of yours soon enough.”

without waiting for a response, he scoops you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style towards the house. his lips find your neck, peppering ticklish kisses along the soft planes of your skin. you drape an arm around his shoulders as he carries you, squirming with a soft giggle as he sinks his teeth into your neck. it hardly hurts, more so tickles, and the crinkled lines around your eyes and the wide smile you wear communicates that.

“put me down! ‘m still mad at you,” you very weakly protest.

toji chuckles, the sound vibrating against your skin as he continues to carry you. "nah. i like havin’ you in my arms like this. makes me feel all caveman-y and shit." he kicks the front door shut behind him, still not putting you down. instead, he starts walking towards the bedroom, his steps intentful. "beeeesides, i wanna lay you out on the bed ‘n taste every inch of you. can’t do that if y’er standin’ up."

he lays you down gently on the mattress, crawling over you with a mischievous gleam in his eye. "now, where were we? oh right, i believe i promised to eat this pretty pussy 'til ya scream."

★ suguru geto — ribbons in his hair.

“ta-da!” you sing, spinning your boyfriend around in the mirror to view the product of your christmas makeover.

suguru stood dumbfounded. his dark locks of hair were tied up in a disorganized fashion, silky red ribbons separating the sections ever so messily. “i don’t mean to offend you, sweetheart, but… this took you thirty minutes to do?”

you peek out from behind him, staring into the mirror as a pout tugs on your bottom lip. “you don’t like it?” you ask, purposefully putting on a softer tone of voice, staring at him with those wide puppy dog eyes of yours that he still can’t resist to this day.

“no! no, baby, that’s… not…” he trails, eyes flitting back up to his reflection in the mirror. did it truly look that bad? no… yes… shit. he flashes you a wide smile, reaching behind him to tug your frame forward. he presses a kiss on your forehead. “i love it so much. thank you, sweetheart.”

was lying to his girlfriend a good idea? no, never. but sometimes, suguru reasons, lying is necessary to keep his beautiful girl happy. you were so excited to do this with him, purchasing you both matching christmas pajamas with little christmas trees and reindeers on the fabric.

not to mention, you had planned such a cozy night for the two of you. building gingerbread houses, baking cookies, cozying up on the couch as the two of you watch your favorite holiday movies…

and so, he kisses your cheek, smiling to himself as he watches your pupils dilate. when you wrap your arms around his neck, luring him in for a proper kiss, he’s silently thankful that you won’t be questioning him any further about your not-so-great handiwork in his hair.

“i know it looks horrible, suguru,” you say into his mouth, a warm chuckle following your words. you pull back, rising up onto your toes to plant a kiss on his nose. silently, you make a note to redo this next year and make him dress up as rudolph the red-nose reindeer. externally, however, you grin. “but you passed my test, baby. just like i knew you would.”

he exhales in relief, his forehead falling until it pressed against yours. “phew. i was worried you’d make me wear these things in my hair for the rest of the night.”

you laugh once more, a hand slipping into his messily styled hair. “oh, no, i have other plans for you tonight,” you whisper, giving one of the ribbons a cute twirl around your finger.

unabashedly, he moans at the mere feeling of your fingers in his hair, just as he had been before as you tugged and tied the satin fabric around his dark locks. it relaxed him, but more than anything, it turned him on. immensely.

and for the first time during this entire process, the moment your stomach brushes against him, suguru realizes that he’s hard. rock hard. so hard that it almost hurts, his cock stiff beneath the soft fabric of his pajama pants and silently begging for relief.

“was this your plan all along?” he asks, his voice taking on a low and husky tone that leaves your skin babbling with goosebumps. “to rile me up with your games? tch. how cruel, sweetheart, even for you.”

and you’re smiling at his words, brushing both of your hands through his hair once more until you earn another needy groan in response. satisfied, you tug a single ribbon loose, watching as a section of his hair sways over his shoulder.

dangling the red ribbon in front of his face, you beam. “well, you can always get your payback… using these.” you can practically see the light bulb going off in his pretty head, his lips twitching into a smirk as he places a hand on the small of your back.

always so gentle. that was how you would usually describe your boyfriend to the outside world, and judging by what they’d know of him, they would likely agree. but when it was just the two of you, alone and in the privacy of your home, those words couldn’t have been less true.

you’re undressed before you can even process the cool air brushing along your soft skin, and you’re thrown onto your bed just as quickly. bouncing on the mattress, you look up at him, pupils stretched wide with passion.

“lean back for me,” he instructs, and you listen, flattening onto the plush mattress with your eyes still glued to his face. “thaaat’s it, beautiful. get nice ‘n comfy.”

his words were sugary and sweet, saccharine with the overwhelming taste of lust intruding on his words. he rolls you over, taking your wrists into one of his large hands as he works to tie one of the ribbons around them. although you’re immobilized, you can’t remember the last time you felt so antsy, so excited.

“you look so pretty,” he coos, running his calloused hands down the smooth expanse of your sides. he reaches down, pulling your soft strands of hair away from your face as you glance at him. with a smile, he kisses your lips, the touch soft and sweet… all up until he pushes your head back into the mattress.

suguru straightens up, pulling another one of the ribbons loose from his hair. he decides to tie this one around your ankles, keeping you nice and tied up. with his hair now pulled half-up by a single ribbon, he decides that he’ll keep that one in, let you see your handiwork while he fucks you stupid. he’ll let it remind you of how you found yourself in this situation in the first place.

hooking his hands beneath your hips, he pulls your ass into the air, leaving you arched and vulnerable—all for his eyes to see. he groans, lowering himself just enough to press a kiss on your damp clit. “mm,” he mumbles into your heat, long tongue lolling out of his mouth to properly taste your slick. “you taste so good, baby. do me a favor, yeah?”

you nod, turning your head to the side as if you were looking at him. you can’t see him, but you can feel him, and that’s almost better in your book. “mhm… anything.”

and then you feel a sharp slap on your ass, soothed by none other than his warm hand rubbing over your reddening skin. “move.” confusion riddled your mind for a brief moment until you felt his tongue press against your pussy once more, curling it ever so slightly to encourage you to move.

a whimper falls from your lips as you begin to rock your hips in messy motions—circles, grinds, thrusts—your movements had no logic to them. not that either of you minded, his tongue flattening against your cunt as you buck yourself against his face.

“mmhm,” he hums in affirmation, laying another smack on your ass cheek. “use my tongue, princess. don’t try ‘n stop until you come on it, got it?”

panting heavily and moving with no other means aside from chasing your own orgasm, you nod your head feverishly once more. “g-got it.” though, with the way your hips begin to stutter, your movements growing more sloppier than before, suguru is lead to believe that you truly don’t get it.

no matter, he has plenty of time to make sure that you understand. his first step is to make you fall apart with his tongue alone.

“i know you can do better than that, sweetheart,” he mocks, pressing his face even further into your heat, his wet tongue lapping at you from behind while your weak motions begin to grow much more purposeful. “mm… there ya go, baby. keep goin’, get yourself niiiice ‘n ready for me.”

you swivel your hips in the best way you can, drawing out moans from both yourself and suguru. he marvels at how talented your fucking hips are, throwing yourself back onto his face just like he’d asked you to. “mhm, good girl,” he praises, running his hands along your thighs. “such a good girl for me.”

as your entire body begins to tremble, you cry out, eyes pricking with tears as you continue to chase your impending release. “s-suguru!” you whine, drool leaking down your lip. “i-i’m—”

you don’t have the time to get your warning out before your orgasm crashes over you in such intense waves, your candied release coating his tongue as he eagerly laps at your heat, cleaning you up willingly. and then you slump forward, boneless and exhausted, sweat making your hair stick to your forehead as you glance at him over your shoulder.

“very good, baby, gimme a kiss,” he whispers, leaning down to press a kiss onto your lips. you whine into his mouth, wrists squirming within the tightly wrapped ribbon. suguru firmly grasps onto the place where your hands are joined. “no. you were bein’ so good, baby. don’t wanna be a brat now, do ya?”

to that, you shake your head, stilling the movement of your wrists. you can hear the sound of shuffling behind you, though your suspicions are confirmed once you feel the angry red tip of his cock brush against your ass.

“ooh, my girl is jumpy tonight,” he teases, placing a firm hand on your hip to prevent your squirming. “don’t move a muscle, sweetheart. i got ya.”

when you feel his weight settle on top of you, your back arches into him, earning you a strong arm wrapped around your neck. suguru messily kisses your cheek, open-mouthed and full of passion. all the while, he presses the head is his cock to your entrance.

“tell me what you want,” he says. you can practically hear the grin on his face as he speaks to you, but you can hardly find it within yourself to care once you feel his fat tip brush against you. “‘n say please.”

you move your hips, attempting to get his tip to catch your slippery hole just right. “fuck me,” you say, turning your head to make eye contact with him. pupils as wide as saucers, lips bit by his kisses, face lazily putting on a smile. “please.”

suguru already has a hard time saying no to you as is, but when you look like this? so beautiful and pliant, giving yourself to him and only him? he’s a goner and he knows it.

“so polite,” he rasps, kissing your cheek once more before he bullies his way inside of you. his cock pistons into your entrance, and his bicep’s lock on your neck gives him the opportunity to plow into you just how he wants to.

and you’re in no place to protest, not that you ever would. you can feel him stretching you out, the way his tip kisses your cervix with each brutal thrust of his hips, the way your entire body jolts in correspondence with his movements.

suguru was so strong. so brutal with the way he fucks you, so mean and rough. but with the way he kisses your cheek, your lips, your jaw, whispering soft ‘doin’ so good, baby’s and ‘so pretty’s in your ear—you remember why you fell for his gentleness before you knew anything else about him.

you’re inclined to believe that fucking and making love are two different things, far and wide apart in the eyes of an average person. but with suguru, with your love, you heartily disagree with them. with him, you get both. you get everything.

skin against skin, moans filtering through the room, sloppy kisses exchanged. you two were a mess, but you were each other’s mess, so entwined in a way that only you could be.

“gonna cum, baby,” he says into your mouth, kissing the corner of your lips. “fuck, need you to cum with me. can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

you nod, biting down on your bottom lip as you feel a boiling heat coiling in your lower stomach. “yes!” you cry out, dropping your head to sink your teeth into his bicep, muffling your moans.

the pain hardly phases him, his pace as unrelenting as it was before, if not even more so. “now,” he rasps, burying himself balls deep as he fills you up with his thick seed. left unsure of where your orgasm ended and his began, or if you got the order wrong entirely, you can’t find it in you to care about it.

resting your head on his bicep, suguru presses a kiss on your cheek once more. he runs a hand down your side, slowly rolling you over so that he can look at you.

smiling ever so softly, he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “let’s clean up, princess. i’ll wash you up real nice before we watch another movie. i bought a gingerbread scented candle just for my girl. some hot chocolate, too.”

…what? you weren’t the only one who could plan holiday festivities…

★ kento nanami — ugly sweater.

kento tried his hardest to be a good sport. he truly, truly did. but even he can only take so much, and his gorgeous wife asking him to wear a god awful holiday sweater was very quickly pushing him to his limits.

he wasn’t even sure why you’d chosen this one specifically. the wording was fine, feliz navidad it read, but the material was littered with christmas trees and tiny ornaments for the occasion. reindeers flying across his chest, snowflakes sewn into the garment. he stood in the mirror, face contorted in unease as he stares at the design. despite his silent disdain for the item, he hadn’t outwardly complained. how could he? you were so excited to wear these ugly things for your first christmas as a married couple!

and so, kento decided he’d stick it out. such the trooper he was, wearing this hideous garment to please you.

“honey?” he calls out to you, glancing around once he realizes he hasn’t seen you in a while. he can hear you distantly, the sound of rattling coming from the en suite. you were likely doing your makeup, very angrily in fashion. “hon—”

“we can’t go, kento!” you exclaim, storming out of the bathroom with your hair half-styled and only the base of your makeup completed. “i’m having a horrible… everything day. i can’t have your coworkers seeing me like this, they’ll think your wife is chopped.”

kento raises an eyebrow, his confusion evident. “chopped? i don’t particularly know what that means, but judging by your comment, i’ll go ahead and assume it isn’t a good thing.” he takes a few steps closer to you, large hands planting firmly on your hips. “and if that is the case, you don’t fit that description. not at all.”

he raises a hand, brushing it over the back of your head. careful not to mess up your hair, he cups the back of your head, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i’m not exactly thrilled about attending my company’s christmas party either. we don’t have to go, but if you don’t want to attend on the basis of not feeling good about yourself, i won’t have that. you’re far too beautiful.”

you hum, shoulders slumping forward as you stare into his soft eyes. “i know, i know. i just…” and before you can finish your sentence, kento presses a kiss on the corner of your mouth, gently guiding you back onto the edge of the bed.

“i hear you, sweetheart. we all have our days,” he whispers, smoothing his hands over the material of your christmas sweater, reading it silently to himself. christmas cookies in the oven. hm. interesting choice, but you’re an interesting woman after all. his interesting woman. “let me love on you. make you feel a little better.”

and who are you to deny him? your husband is simply too sweet, too attentive and caring. if he wants to have you, you’d never deny him.

kento’s hands slide up your thighs, hooking your legs around his hips as he works to settle on top of you. his lips find your neck, kissing and nibbling on your sweet skin, a trail of heat slipping down your throat and across your collarbones. “lift your arms,” he gently commands, pushing your sweater up and over your head. you hadn’t finished getting dressed yet, only left wearing your panties now, which made his job easier.

he kisses his way down your body, his intention set on soothing any worries that you may be feeling. your neck, your breasts, your stomach, your inner thighs—his lips touch anywhere and everywhere. “spread your legs, baby, there you go,” he whispers, helping you open wide for him. discarding the fabric of your underwear, he delves into your pussy with a sense of reverence.

alternating between long, languid strokes and quick flicks of his tongue, he does his absolute best to ease your mind and make your thoughts consistent of him and his love for you. “eyes on me, honey,” he says into your heat, softened gaze meeting yours. “hey, beautiful.”

drawing out long moans of pleasure, whimpers and whines, all from that beautiful mouth of yours. it makes kento feel accomplished in his goal, his hands grasping onto your thighs to keep your cunt nice and close to his mouth.

“mmh, ken,” you whisper, voice low and breathy. back arching from the mattress, your hands slip into his hair, roughing up his neatly styled locks. not that he minds, as long as you believe he looks good then that’s all he truly cares about. “please, more. i want more.”

and he’s quick to give into your request, pulling his sweater up and over his head before tossing it to the side. slipping out of his pants and boxers, he kicks them away, crawling back on top of you with a strong arm bracing him beside your head.

“hold onto me, baby,” he suggests, and you do, wrapping your arms around his neck as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. “mm, good girl. gonna make all of those thoughts fade away, promise.”

your breath catches in your throat the moment you feel his cock slowly nudging inside of you, splitting you open with a big stretch. “ken—” you whine, nails digging into the strong muscles of his back.

“i know, honey, i know,” he whispers in your ear, stilling his movements to give you a long moment to adjust to the stretch of him inside of you. once your nails ease up, opting to merely hold him instead, kento takes that as a sign of you being ready.

his movements are still slow at first, easy rolls of his hips to fuck you long and deep, letting you feel every inch of him. one of his hands cups your cheek while the other keeps him propped up over you, reminding himself to not crush you with his weight.

“good job, sweetheart,” he pants, picking up the pace of his hips according to the sounds that he manages to lure out of you. “there she is. feeling alright, baby?”

you nod, one of your hands slipping into his blonde locks of hair while the other digs into the hard muscles of his shoulders. “y-yes,” you breathe, clenching around him like a vice. “feels so good, don’t stop. don’t stop.”

kento has no plans of stopping, not until you’re satisfied and fully content with his performance. truth be told, you’re more than satisfied, velvety walls grabbing onto him with each and every stroke of his cock.

“you’re so pretty,” he whispers, kissing your skin. your cheek to your jaw to your neck, his plush lips brushing against you in time with each snap of his hips. “so beautiful, baby. i-i love you so much.”

with you clinging onto him like a baby koala, arms and legs wrapped around him so tightly, holding him close to you as he drives his length in and out of your wet heat, kento is quickly realizing that he won’t be lasting as long as he hoped.

more than determined to make you satisfied, his hand on your cheek slips between the two of your bodies, his fat thumb circling your puffy clit in tight circles. in turn, he feels you tense up, breathy moans of pleasure slipping from your swollen lips. he swallows them up with his own, kissing you messily as his ministrations drive you further and further to the brink of release.

and when your back arches from the bed, he slips an arm beneath the small of your back, leaning down to latch onto one of your breasts to treat you with as much stimulation as possible. “it’s too much,” you whine, clawing into his back, leaving angry red welts in your wake.

“you can take it,” he assures you, pressing a final kiss to your nipple before he leans over, lavishing your neglected breast with the same treatment. “mhm, doing so well. always do.”

you’re not sure if kento realizes just how good he is to you. how big he is, how strong, how talented. and he was all yours—giving himself to you entirely. you were his first and he’s more than determined to have you as his last, his everything for the rest of his life. to him, that starts with keeping you satisfied, in more ways than one.

“i’m close,” you warn, tilting your head back on the bed as a soft whimper escapes you. body trembling from the stimulation, legs constricting around him like a snake ready to attack, you feel the very moment your body teeters over the edge. “ken!” you cry.

he nods his head, pressing a soft kiss on your cheek as he feels you find your release on his cock, coating him with your candied essence that serves as his reward for treating you so well.

“i’ve got you, honey,” he whispers, a low throaty groan following his words. “i’ve got you.”

it doesn’t take long for him to catch up to you, his pace staggering as he chases his own orgasm. tensing up inside of you, you feel the way his seed floods inside of your inner channels, filling you up with the warm proof of his love and attraction for you.

for a few long movements, you hold each other close, breathing heavily into each other’s skin. stolen kisses, small smiles, and watery eyes. your hand raises, cupping his cheek while you press a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“can i ask you something?” you ask, smiling up at him.

“sure you can,” he replies, laying a soft peck to your lips.

“did you read the christmas sweater i got for you?”

kento nods, brows knitting in confusion. “yes, i did. why do you ask?”

“i just think the hidden meaning flew right over that handsome head of yours. it says feliz navi-dad.”

“…oh my.”

oh, it’s a christmas miracle!

note. don’t look at me… this came out way too late bc i spend too much time sleeping and scrolling jjk memes on pinterest. can i get a life? obviously NOT bc i just wrote 9k words of pure smut about 4 (four.) FICTIONAL MEN!!!! if you read this and enjoyed thank you <3 love ya for life. merry christmas 🎄

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starkeysprincess · 2 days ago

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the annual christmas sorority date auction༉ೀ

warnings — frat!rafe, sorority!reader, date auction (for charity), rafe being competitive, jealous rafe, oral (m. receiving), praising, tit sucking, nipple biting (for like 2 seconds), spanking, sex in lingerie, unprotected sex, creampie wc — 1.7k a/n — merry christmas + happy new years !! got the date auction idea from the movie, white chicks

“not that i’m against the purpose of it, but do you have to be in this year’s event?” rafe huffed, looking around at the stage setup . “i would skip it if i could, but they think having all of us in the event will benefit the fundraiser,” you sigh. “yeah…well, these guys willing to bid to win a date with a girl is a bit pathetic, it’s stupid,” your boyfriend grumbled, making you raise a brow.

“oh is it? you didn’t seem to think it was stupid last year when you bid on getting a date with me. you know…the same date that led to us dating.” rafe knew you were right, but that didn’t mean he liked the idea, “i know, but i don’t want to even think about how many of the guys from the other fraternities will try to bid on getting a date with you.”

“guess you’ll have to outbid them, huh?” you tease. he rolled his eyes, muttering something along the lines of, “i shouldn’t have to bid just to go on a date with my girl,” under his breath. “that’s too bad, i was hoping to give you one of your christmas presents early if you win the bid,” your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck. “yeah? and what would that be?” rafe grinned as you plucked his hat off his head, turning it around and placing it backward on his head.

“there’s only one way for you to find out,” you whipped your head around at the sound of your sorority sisters calling your name. “it’s about to start. i have to go before london rips my head off for not being ready,” you gave him a rushed kiss on the cheek, your gloss sticking to his skin, before heading towards the stage to get in position.

as the event started, rafe became antsy, waiting for your turn as your sorority sisters appeared on stage individually. members of fraternities bidding against one another in hopes of landing a date with any of the girls had him on the edge of his seat.

he fidgeted in his seat when london announced your name, his jaw clenching at the sound of the men hollering when you stepped out onto the center of the stage. you gave rafe a playful wink while london introduced your name and interests to the crowd of fraternity brothers before the bidding started.

he figured no one would try to place a bid, knowing you were his. but rafe couldn’t be more wrong when he heard “$100”. he sat up in his seat, snapping his head toward the direction of the voice. “you’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he scoffed, he glared, his eyes landing on chad, a member of his rival fraternity, who had his typical, stupid smug look on his face.

“$200,” rafe called out, and it didn’t take long for the two to start calling out numbers, trying to outbid the other. you nervously shifted in place, your eyes darted back and forth between rafe and chad, anxiously shifting in place as the number increased, nearing $800. your eyes widened at the number rafe blurted out, he knew his father would be furious once he found out how much money he blew off, but knowing no one could get their hands on you was worth it. seeing chad’s dumb grin on his face fall was purely a bonus.

after the event, you walked off stage, where rafe was waiting for you by the stairs. “thought you said you shouldn’t have to bid to go on a date with me?” you mock. he chuckled, dipping his head down to capture your lips with his, “like i said, you’re my girl. you didn’t really think i’d let these assholes take you from me, did you?” you giggle, “no, but you’re dad might kill you for how much money you dropped, which was a ridiculous amount.” rafe shrugged, “the old man will be fine, you know i don’t care how much i spend when it comes to you.”

“plus, i wanna know what my present is,” he grinned, “you can’t blame me for wanting to know when you’re the one who mentioned it.” you give him a playful smack to the chest, “you’ll see what it is when we’re back at my apartment.”

as soon as those words left your mouth, he practically dragged you out of the building. once the two of you made it to your apartment, he tried to pull you into your bedroom, only for you to shove him onto the couch, “be patient,” you warned. “baby, you know i’m the most impatient man when it comes to you,” rafe complained, groaning at the look you give him, “okay, fine.”

“wait here,” he watched you disappear around the corner and into your bedroom. he looked around at your apartment's walls which were adorned with pictures. his ears perked at the sound of your bedroom door opening, accompanied by your voice, ”close your eyes!” you poked your head out, ensuring his eyes were closed before walking out.

you stood before him, lowering your head to press your lips onto his in a messy kiss, climbing onto his lap, your legs straddling either side of him. rafe wrapped his arms around your waist, his tongue slipping into your mouth. he let out a strained groan as you suck on his bottom lip, a string of spit connecting between your lips when you pull away.

“holy shit…” rafe rasps, his eyes blinking open, raking up and down your body, taking in the red and white candy cane lingerie. “god…you look so fuckin’ sexy,” his hands ran up and down your thighs, fingers playing with the embellishments on your stockings.

you kiss along his jaw to his neck, sucking and biting at his skin. you roll your hips into him, grinding your clothed cunt against his bulge. rafe’s hand entangles in your hair, tugging your head back to pull you in for another kiss. he nips at your bottom lip, ”as much as i love this on you, i wanna see those pretty tits,” his hands snake behind your back. he unhooks the clasps of the corset, pushing the straps off your shoulders, and tossing it aside. your eyes flutter shut, his lips trailing down your neck to leave wet, open-mouthed kisses.

your hands pull at the hem of his shirt, tugging it over his head, before gently shoving him to sit back. “i’m supposed to make you feel good tonight,” you slipped off his lap, settling yourself between his legs, your hands fumbling with the button and zipper of his pants. rafe lifted his hips, helping you pull his pants and boxers down to pool around his ankles, his hard cock slapping against his abdomen. you look up at him, wrapping your hand around his length, stroking it slowly before licking at his tip, sucking it into your mouth.

he watches you take more of his cock into your mouth, and he leans forward, grabbing your hair and bunching it into his fist. “fuck, just like that,” he moans, his hips rolling, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth, pulling a gag from you when his tip repeatedly kisses the back of your throat. you blink up at him, tears threatening to spill and drool slipping out of your mouth, “always makin’ a mess on my cock like a good girl, just how i like it,” his praise making you press your thighs together.

his jaw goes slack, watching your lips slide up and down his dick, “fuck…you like makin’ me feel good, don’t you? always wanna please me no matter what?” you hum around him, the vibrations traveling up his cock making it hard for his eyes to stay open. he pulls you off of him with a wet ‘pop,’ “if i’m gonna cum, it needs to be inside your sweet little cunt.”

rafe yanks you up from your knees, and you hurriedly try to remove the garter belt and thigh-high stockings. “no, keep ‘em on,” he demands, pulling you down onto his lap again. you rest your hands on his broad shoulders, raising your hips to let his fingers hook into your thong to pull it to the side. “jesus, sucking my dick always gets you this wet, huh?” he chuckles, planting a hand on your hip to keep you steady.

he guides his cock to your drooling hole, biting back a groan at your walls stretching around him, sucking him in deeper. he presses his head into the cushion of the couch, staring up at you in awe as you roll your hips. ”takin’ me so deep, your pussy is always greedy f’me, isn’t she?” his hands ghost up your plush thighs to your ass. you whined when he delivered a sharp smack. “c’mon baby, you can do better than that,” he coos, encouraging you to move up and down, bouncing on his cock.

“good girl, just like that…” rafe grunted, leaning forward to capture your nipple into his mouth. his fingers dug into the flesh of your waist, “rafe–” you yelped, the pain and pleasure of feeling his teeth sink into the sensitive bud sending jolts through your body. you whine as he pulls away, “oh, you like that, huh?”

he pulls you forward, your face burying into his shoulder and his hands grip the fat of your ass, holding you still to pound into you. you cry out, your nails biting into his skin, his thighs smacking against your ass with each harsh thrust. the head of his cock persistently hits your cervix, pulling a sharp gasp from you.

rafe removes one hand to slip between the two of you, the pads of his fingers circling your puffy clit. your eyes roll back, whimpering into his shoulder, “gonna cum f’me, baby? gonna make a mess all over my cock then let me fill this pretty pussy with my cum?”

“y-yes!” you sob, his fingers pinching your clit, sending you over the edge. “shh, just a little longer,” he groans at your walls squeezing around him. you pant against his neck, squirming on top of him. his hips stutter, pushing himself deep inside you, moaning your name, his cum spilling inside your cunt, painting your walls white.

“don’t know how you’re gonna beat next year’s present, this might’ve been the best christmas present yet,” rafe panted, kissing the side of your head.

taglist: @oceandriveab @cameronwillow @bloodibambiidoll @cameronsprincess @rafesthroatbaby @rafeyscurtainbangs @starkeysbabygirl @nemesyaaa @rafesangelita @rafesbabygirlx @fallbhind @zyafics @fae-of-prey @cybersunnie @whytheylosttheirminds @ilovefiction4lmen @jjslaybank @whinyangel @rafeysangelbaby @momoewn @kazanskied @saintlike05 @coco-cinnamon @blckbrrybasket @wearemadeofstardust0 @starkeysbebe @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @starkeysheart @littlelamy

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prael · 3 days ago

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Day 1: Scandal

Aespa Karina x male reader smut

words: 4,260 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

They're calling it the scandal of the century. A downright disaster. People scrambled in the aftermath, but the damage had been done, the proverbial milk spilt. And oh, did the milk spill alright. It sounds like everyone had tuned in right around the country. Hell, right around the world.

If they didn't catch it live, then they certainly caught the post-game replays.

There are a lot of those going around.

No amount of damage control could have prevented it from exploding all over the Internet and into every gossip rag imaginable. But damn it if her PR team hadn't tried to stop it anyway. They had gone on the offence—attacking everyone and anyone who had even so much as hinted at the incident. Filing every legal document they could just get it removed.

It doesn't matter. The damage is done. The ties are cut and you're both hung out to dry.

Well before it happened, there had been warnings. Karina was still fresh off the back of her first Dispatch leak. The two of them weren't even really dating. Two young, rich and hot adults were just fooling around, so once it hit the press and the online articles came in, she took the axe to that relationship right away. She could always find another dick to ride on.

That she did; your dick, and damn did she ride it.

It was a friend of a friend thing. You know one of those 'I showed this girl your picture and she wants to get to know you' things. To be honest, you thought it was a joke. Of course, you did. How often does some K-pop starlet want to have dinner with you?

Anyway, three months down the line and you're two and half months deep into, well, being deep into her.

Her apartment is nice. Her bed is nicer, or at least it is with her in it.

You spent night after night together doing every nasty, carnal thing she wanted. She loves it. You would come to realise she's a bit of a nymphomaniac—and you fucking love it. But, even still, you kept it casual. Kept it quiet.

Didn't work too well.

There was a close call, once.

You put it down to getting a little too comfortable. The guard slipped for just the briefest moment of weakness. Though, if anything, you would at least put part of the blame on the whole system. See, Karina can't catch a flight without the entire thing being documented. She arrives at the airport and they're all there waiting with cameras in hand to get the latest snap of her airport fashion as she comes out of the van. They know what flight she's on and the exact departure time, and then when she lands there's another group of fans waiting.

So it goes without saying, you two can't just waltz in there hand-in-hand. So you book the same flight, seated far enough away from her that no one would question a thing. You shouldn't speak, not until you're safely at the other end and in the privacy of the hotel room, but Karina is Karina.

So she texted you, this one time in the departure lounge. A twenty-minute window and directions to the toilets of the private lounge. There, in the small cubicle, you slipped down her jeans, turned her around, bent her over and made her feel good.

It was quick and messy. Nothing like how the sex would be in her hotel later that night. You had her cheek pressed against the door of the cubicle, your hand covering her mouth to stifle the noise, and your dick going balls deep in her hot pussy while her hand rubbed away at her clit. It was desperate and hungry—more the need to release the sexual tension than to enjoy it.

But damn was it fun.

She deepened the arch of her back and presented herself just that bit more for you and you watched every inch go inside her with each thrust. Watched as your cock spread apart those soft pussy lips of hers and vanished into the warm embrace of her body. Her ass shook as your hips slapped against it and eventually, her legs trembled so much that you had to wrap your arm around her waist to keep her up.

But when you came—and you came deep—someone entered the bathroom. Their presence was unknown until you heard the faucet run. For a brief, horrifying moment you thought it might be someone waiting to bust you.

A security guard or maybe a tabloid reporter ready to get their story. The scandal of the century? Not quite.

Just another passenger. They didn't even realise who they were next to as they washed their hands. But the idea that you both could've been caught, had Karina let that moan slip or if you hadn't just stopped pounding her against the door so hard that it rattled the hinges.

Afterwards, with your spent dick sliding out from between her tight thighs, it was something Karina whispered in your ear. She said, "That was close. We'll have to be more careful."

If only you knew just how careless she was about to be...

See, it was a pretty normal evening. She texted you a time to come over, and you took all the usual precautions. (There's a side door into the block and a service elevator that Karina made sure to get the passcode for.) Admittedly, you got there five minutes early, but it wasn't the first time it had happened, and since the first time, Karina made sure to leave a sock on the bedroom door just in case it happened again. She was streaming, you see, an Instagram live session. One of those things where the adoring fans get to listen to their idols talk about themselves, or their day, or sometimes with Karina, something a little out of the ordinary.

So you waited. A drink of water, sitting on her couch, and letting curiosity take over. You opened up her Instagram, watched her for a few minutes, and smiled to yourself because, as usual, she was simply being Karina. No topic, just rambling, but there were thousands watching anyway, because well, why wouldn't they?

A smile crept onto your face as you watched, knowing that she was in the next room, just looking that good, and soon enough you would be in there ravishing her. There were thousands upon thousands of other people, jealous of you without even realising you existed, who would give almost anything to be in your shoes—to be able to do the things you do to Karina. Fuck, some of them would probably sell everything they owned.

Then she started saying goodbye to people. Signing off, wishing them a good night, whatever. So you locked the phone and waited until she came down the hallway.

She was moving quickly, right towards you. Bare feet hitting the wooden floor in hurried little slaps. She jumped right into your lap without so much as a 'Hello', and she clamped her legs, clad in tight yoga pants, around your waist. She grabbed either side of your face and kissed you, a hand reaching back and pulling on the hair at the base of your skull as she did.

And it wasn't soft either.

It was fierce and aggressive. Her tongue forced its way into your mouth, pushing against your own, flicking over your teeth. She ground herself against the erection growing beneath her and breathed hot breath against your lips while biting down on the lower one.

"You," she gasped. "Take me to the bedroom... Now."

"Hi to you too," you joked, putting your arms under her butt.

She was so very easy to carry. Maybe because you had done it so many times before. But she had always been a light little thing, so slender apart from exactly the places you would want her to be big. It always made it so easy to pin her against the wall with her leg over your shoulder, to press her up against the shower and bounce her up and down on your cock while steam filled the bathroom. But mostly it was great because you could easily throw her down on the bed.

Tonight wasn't going to be any different.

Except it was, wasn't it? But neither of you knew that just yet.

As you walked toward her room, holding her gorgeous body up with nothing but a firm grasp on her ass, she kept whispering things to you. Whispered them right against your ear, her voice low and husky as she did. She told you about all the things that she wanted you to do to her. The things that she wanted to do to you. Like some raw, filthy script of a play long overdue to be performed.

"...and then I want you to put it right back in my pussy and cum in me again and again," she said it right as you pushed through the door. Look, Karina's room isn't that huge, but when you're dying to get your cock into her, going all the way to the bed seemed like such a pain when there was a perfectly good wall right there. You turned and pinned her against it.

There you two stayed for a while, locked in that embrace, kissing and nibbling. She wrestled your shirt off over your head while you peeled up her sports bra. You bent your head down to her chest and kissed along the valley between her breasts. Her soft skin warm against your lips, and you kept pressing them down on her, leaving faint wet marks until you reached one of those pert pink nipples. You cupped her tit and you sucked. Hard.

A little whimper of appreciation followed by a slight tremble through her body was the response.

You went from one to the other. Fingers caressing one and your mouth on the other, switching between them, never fully committing to either, keeping her guessing as to which nipple would feel the bliss next. Karina knew what she wanted, and she simply wouldn't wait. Maybe the rush to get fucked could be blamed for all of this.

See, while you sucked her tits, she pulled down her leggings and her underwear. Maybe it was desperation, maybe it was convenience, but she didn't even pull them past her knees. Instead, as you continued your adoration, she unbuckled your belt and let your trousers fall to the floor. Your underwear didn't last long either. She gave a couple of lazy strokes up the length of your cock, just enough for her to feel it getting hard. Enough for her to know you could give her what she needs.

She twisted between you and the wall and leaned against it; her tits pressing against the white paintwork, and she stuck out her ass. "Don't hold back," she instructed. "I need it."

For all the focus you gave her tits, Karina does have a hell of an ass.

So with her arms up above her head and grasping high, she looked perfect. The swell of her hips, the curve of her ass—it was just to be grabbed and slapped. Those legs looked fucking perfect, slightly muscled from hours of dance practice but still so thin and lean. And between them... fuck. If there's such a thing as a pussy so good it should win awards then Karina better prepare her speech.

You weren't gentle.

Gentle doesn't work for her. Gentle is boring. Normal. Vanilla. Karina's tasted it all before and she's bored. You won't remember the first time she said those words to you. She made you promise not to judge her but she told you exactly how depraved and slutty she really wants to be in bed.

So when she said, "Fuck me hard," you did exactly that.

Spit on your cock was enough to get it slick. You stroked the tip up and down across her waiting pussy a couple of times and found the right place. Then you slid it right inside her, letting it rest buried for just a moment before you pulled back. You didn't even go halfway before you thrust it right back into her. Right down to the balls. Deep as you can go.

A pleasured hiss passed over clenched teeth as her cheek pressed against the wall and she nodded, just once, telling you that she wanted more. You fucked her harder, feeling her hot insides clench at your cock. Her hips smacked against the wall with each thrust, the room echoing with the sounds of your flesh coming together. The squelch of her wet hole was barely audible over her cries. Cries that steadily increased in volume the longer you held her against the wall, the more aggressively you bucked your hips against her, the harder you drove your dick into her body.

"Don't stop!" she cried out as her legs shivered.

No danger of that.

Maybe you should have.

Karina was struggling. To not fall apart in your hands, to hold herself against the wall, but also just to keep breathing as the intensity of your deep pounding washed over her, making her shudder and shake in front of you. One of her hands flew down to between her legs. The tips of her fingers went in a circle around her clit.

But as much fun as taking her against the wall was, she would fall if you continued.

So you did what you knew you could so easily do, just threw her. Her quivering body collapsed onto her bed after a small stumble. Right into the one place in the room, she shouldn't be.

See, Karina was sitting just here, maybe ten minutes earlier. You were watching, on your phone. She had chatted and joked and waved goodbye, just where you were about to fuck her.

She clambered up the bed and onto all fours, looking back at you with lust-drunk eyes, urging you on, needing to be fucked some more. So you crawled right up behind her, took a grip of those beautiful hips and you slipped your cock back inside her.

One stroke and you bottomed out within her.

Two strokes and she began moaning again.

By the third, you were slamming her forward with each push.

The bed creaked in protest as you hammered yourself into Karina, keeping up with what she wanted as she pushed back at you, meeting every buck of your hips with equal force and speed. At least one orgasm tore through her body. You felt it in the way her body contracted around your thick shaft as you drove it deep inside her, but also heard it in the way she screeched through gritted teeth. Saw it as she clawed at the blankets, grabbing handfuls of material and pulling at them as her body tensed up.

"Cum," she pleaded with just the one word.

And that's what you did. Her little pussy made sure of it. Feeling her spasm around you, squeezing your throbbing cock so tightly that you couldn't resist but join her in ecstasy. So you flooded her sweet cunt, sending ropes of cum into her waiting body, painting her walls, feeling every inch of her pussy pulse as her body urged yours to give her everything it had. Her cries mingled with the heavy panting as you emptied your balls within her.

You couldn't keep it up. Fucking Karina sometimes feels too intense, takes so much energy out of you, makes your muscles burn. So you had to withdraw from her and rest back on your haunches, catching your breath, your heart racing. But Karina is Karina.

She turned around and before you could move, she had taken hold of your thighs and moved forward. Her lips wrapped around the tip of your glistening cock and began sucking on it. As her tongue rolled across the slit and along the underside, tasting your seed and her own juices combined. Her cheeks hollowed, eyes staring up at you from behind damp hair and you felt her moans reverberating through you.

How can she do this every time? How can she make you recover so quickly? Because you did. No sooner had Karina placed her head in your lap than you grew hard again. You were left fighting that war against conflicting desires: whether to push her off and have her again or keep the pleasure of having her mouth on you. Every swirl of her tongue across the sensitive parts of your cock, the feeling of her lips gliding along its length, her throat opening and the tightness taking your crown.

"Oh shit..." you groaned. "Are you trying to kill me?"

She didn't answer but you noticed her hips wiggle slowly side-to-side.

It wasn't long before she relinquished the grasp she had on your thighs and let you pull her into position. A roll onto her back. A pillow under her lower back. You hooked one leg over your shoulder while she held the other out wide, laying right on the edge of the bed. You sank into her again and again, rocking the entire bed with each thrust.

And how you only wish now that you had at literally any point taken a look to your right. Maybe you would have questioned why her phone was still there. Maybe you would have made her check the thing was actually off.

Of course, you know now the mistake that Karina made.

You pushed her down into the bed, pressing her leg against her chest as you fucked her. Fucked her deeply. You had changed the tempo now, switched to something slower, more powerful and purposeful. That load you left in her cunt made the whole thing a mess. You pounded into her and it spilt between you, running down her ass and soaking her bedding. Karina gasped as her second climax crashed through her.

Her phone caught it all.

Every minute.

When Karina came, so loud, so hard, so intense that she didn't know who or where she was, people were watching. Her fans watched. When she said your name as she stared up into your eyes with such gratitude, they were listening. And when you came for the second time, she made sure everyone could hear.

"I feel it," she whispered, her fingers digging into your arms. "I feel it. All of it. Give me more. Fill me."

She pulled at her thighs, spreading herself open and making you groan into the crook of her neck as your throbbing dick pulsed, unleashing another load of thick cum deep within her body, making another wonderful mess. Leaving her already soaked cunt saturated. Together you lay like that, two exhausted bodies wrapped in an embrace, your cock twitching, occasionally releasing a few drops inside her. Karina giggled.

"There's nothing better than that feeling," she groaned. "Nothing... better."

She looked right into your eyes as she said it.

"It's my favourite thing in the world."

So you kissed her, both of you falling into the tangled mass of sweat-soaked blankets while you stayed on top of her. She didn't want to let go, not yet, not while the closeness and warmth were shared. Your bodies pressed together with your softening cock still inside her until eventually you slipped out and came to lie beside her. She nestled up against your chest.

In the silence that proceeded, there was a vibration across the room. Your phone is still in your pocket, somewhere on the floor. You let it ring out, while you lay there, breathing heavily. Again it vibrated. "Ugh," you groaned, "Leave me alone."

"Is someone missing you?" Karina teased.

"Doubt it," you replied.

Karina let her hand trace patterns across your chest, moving slowly towards your hip. You knew the game. Get you hard again, and ride you into the middle of next week. It worked, too. Even though you protested, her hand wrapping around your shaft soon brought it back to life. Sensitive strokes had you squirming and groaning.

"Well, whoever it is will just have to deal with the fact you're mine tonight," she purred.

Then you heard an unusual noise. Another buzz. But not your phone. From somewhere else. But you paid it no attention as Karina got up from your chest, swung her leg over you and began lowering herself down onto you. What started as slow gentle fucking quickly progressed back to something far hungrier and desperate. Her nails dragged lines across your torso, your hands gripping tightly at her waist to steady her. You watched as your cum leaked out of her cunt and onto you as she rode.

You reached between her legs and scooped up a blob, bringing it to her lips.

"Lick it," you told her. "Taste it."

And she opened wide for your fingers and cleaned them up. "That's what you wanted?"

"Yeah. Tell me what it tastes like."

"Tastes like us," she moaned, fucking you faster, pushing you deeper.

Then she leaned back, making a show of the way she rolled her hips against you. Bouncing as she impaled herself on you. Her head rolled back and her eyes closed as another orgasm approached. It built slowly, the intensity growing higher and higher until she teetered on the edge, balanced between bliss and rapture. The way her tits bounced had you hypnotised. Focus locked on her. Ignoring the phone that continued to ring.

She was close. Really close. Riding you frantically. Her moans turned into short desperate gasps until she had no voice left. You heard the scream before and saw how hard she came, but now you had front-row seats to watch it all again. Her muscles tightened and spasmed. Her rhythm faltered.

Your phone rang.

"Shit. Oh fuck!" she screamed, throwing her head back, arching her spine and freezing mid-thrust.

Her cunt gripped you tightly. Squeezing, milking. Urging you to release within her once more and give her that final gift. You felt her leak over you. Watched as her pussy throbbed as she rode out those final moments, struggling to continue as her strength failed. You grabbed her hips and did the work. Thrusting up into her repeatedly. Feeling her cum dribbling down your shaft and over your balls. Fuck, she's messy.

She panted desperately and let her arms drop by her side, staying arched and leaning back. You helped her balance. She needed it.

Your phone kept ringing.

You ignored it. You fucked up into her, wanting nothing more than to cum inside her again. Your muscles burned. You clenched your teeth. The pressure in your lower abdomen was unbearable. But you pounded up into Karina, making her call out with each thrust, while your grip on her probably turned her hips purple. The pleasure in you rose and rose, so fast, so intense, and without warning it broke.

You came again.

Holding her down and shooting your cum deep inside her. Gasping for air as you did, flooding her body with rope after rope until her insides dripped. Her thighs became glazed in the evidence of your passion.

Then you lowered her down to lie against your chest and you held her close. Until her breathing settled and you could hear her purr, "I think you've outdone yourself this time."

"I think you'll kill me," you joked in return.

"But imagine how happy I'd be if you died from giving me too many orgasms."

A laugh. Another vibration. "Whoever that is must really need me," you grumbled.

"Fuck them," she laughed.

"Why, when I can keep fucking you?"

Karina bit her lip. She seemed pleased with that answer. Then you realised that even as you softened within her, she hadn't stopped grinding against you. Making those slow circles, keeping herself stimulated and trying to get you hard again.

"You're relentless," you marvelled.

"And you love it."

"I love-"

There's a bang at the door and then a bell.

Karina groaned. She sighed. She relented.

Then she rolled off your spent cock, letting it slip from her swollen cunt and you both stared at the ceiling. "Maybe they'll go away?" you mused. They didn't.

"Come on," she huffed. "Stay there. Let me get rid of them."

You listened to her walk across the hardwood floor in her bare feet. Unstable steps courtesy of your enthusiastic rutting.

She pulled on a robe and left the room. Your phone vibrated again as she left, so finally you rolled out of the bed, crawled to find your pants and pulled the damn thing out.

More missed calls and messages than you could count, and not just one person. Your friends, Karina's friends, and... Karina's manager? Face recognition kicked in and the phone unlocked. You're staring at Karina's messy bed.

You're staring at Karina's messy bed on your screen.

The icon has the word 'live' beside it.

You're staring at Karina's messy bed on Instagram Live.

Your heart stops beating. Your breath catches in your throat. You swallow nothing. Wait. One. Two. Three.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" is the scream from across the apartment. You look at the phone again. Karina's messy bed, on Instagram Live, with millions of viewers.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

That was when the realisation of your combined carelessness struck you both—separated by a wall, finding out from two different sources.

Now, they're calling it the scandal of the century. A downright disaster.

#Karina smut #Aespa smut #male reader #kpop smut #m reader #Karina x reader #praelmas #smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

astonmartinii · 1 day ago

Text

day seven: (christmas) star power | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem primary school!teacher

oh how one lie can spiral

MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

yourusername

liked by yourbff, yourbrother and 204 others

yourusername: so ummmmmmm i pulled the short straw and am in charge of the school's nativity ??? AND THEN made a comment about my 'boyfriend' charles leclerc and now the whole school and WHOLE village think he is coming to the show ...

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yourbff: are you fucking dumb ???

yourusername: YES

yourbff: you told the headmaster that your boyfriend is CHARLES LECLERC ????

yourusername: i said it in JEST

yourusername: like ooohhhh my boyf charles

yourusername: and i guess that my framed picture of him on my desk definitely didn't help ...

yourbff: you have a framed picture of him on your desk...

yourusername: it was a christmas present from my cousin 😭

yourbff: oh but why would you have it on your desk - you're a primary school teacher all those kids do is ask questions

yourusername: why are you VICTIM BLAMING SO MUCH

yourbff: because you're DUMB

yourbrother: oh they're gonna stone you when they figure out it's not true

yourusername: they should know it's not true ITS CHARLES LECLERC

yourbrother: so you're saying you couldn't just go to monaco right now and pull him? disappointing

yourusername: 1. i'm broke as fuck 2. i am me and he is he

yourbrother: ugh such a skill issue

yourbff: bro it's hit f1twt

yourusername: WHAT

yourusername: who the fuck is on f1twt from our village

yourbff: maybe it was me...

yourusername: REALLY?

yourbff: no you actual dumbass

yourusername: no but for real these people are insane detectives they're going to figure out it's me and i'm going to be CANCELLED

yourbff: lol

yourusername: fuck you.

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, pierregasly and 1,034,289 others

tagged: arthurleclerc & lorenzotl

charles_leclerc: just a quiet christmas for the leclercs this year

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user4: because we're going to somerset right?

user5: does he know he's meant to be in somerset?

user6: does he know what a nativity is?

user7: girl he may be an f1 driver who didn't finish school but he's not THAT dumb

landonorris: why am i seeing that you're coming to my ends for christmas?

charles_leclerc: am i??? why would i want to spend even more time with you?

landonorris: first of all - rude. second of all i have literally seen posters about you coming to the village?

charles_leclerc: what is a village?

landonorris: okay mr monte carlo some of use aren't from a tax haven

charles_leclerc: also when you're this beautiful, people tend to paste your face everywhere, you can't relate

landonorris: even RUDER

landonorris: my young cousin goes to the school and is completely convinced that you're coming to the show and dating his teacher

charles_leclerc: WHAT

yourusername: oh my jesus christ

user8: and if that one girl on f1twt made it all up...

user9: would be the only good thing to come out of that place

pierregasly: what is this i'm hearing of you having a girlfriend? charles i am HURT

charles_leclerc: where are you all hearing all of this stuff?

pierregasly: twitter!

charles_leclerc: oh jesus christ

pierregasly: you've got yourself in a right mess

charles_leclerc: ME?

charles_leclerc: this is clearly the work of a downright lunatic or a lonely cat woman with FAR too much time on her hands

yourusername: oh he gagged me there

yourbff: heyyy you have a dog not a cat!

charles_leclerc: who are you people?

yourusername: NO ONE

user10: what on earth is going on

user11: and WHO is @yourusername

yourusername: NO ONE

landonorris

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri and 1,034,277 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

landonorris: look who came to see me :)

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user13: holy....

user14: oh charles at the nativity is still so on

user15: my hopes are simply too high now good lord

user16: lowkey hoping this is all one big lie from f1twt that has managed to convince ACTUAL drivers to go to a random village

oscarpiastri: how did he get an invite to the norris house before i did ?

oscarpiastri: do my 'heart eyes' mean nothing to you?

landonorris: no babe i can explain it's for the bit

charles_leclerc: babe?

oscarpiastri: stay out of this old man

charles_leclerc: that's no way to talk to your father

oscarpiastri: my father wouldn't do such things for 'the bit" WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN

landonorris: it's a joke osc

oscarpiastri: so i'm a joke to you? i see how it is

landonorris: NO THE TWITTER JOKE

landonorris: has he just put his phone on do not disturb?

charles_leclerc: he said he's going to bed (it is actually quite late in australia dude)

landonorris: how do you know that?

charles_leclerc: he replied to my text :)

landonorris: WHAT

charles_leclerc: family comes before whatever pathetic crush he has

user17: how have we gotten to this point?

user18: just smile and wave boys this is mental illness on show

charles_leclerc: you're right, having a crush on lando is mental illness

landonorris: then it's time to get your son sectioned!

alexalbon: well this has all gotten a bit serious now - can we get back to the actual reason charles is at your house?

yourusername: @yourbff oh brother this is getting TOO REAL

yourbff: to put it quite kindly you are royally FUCKED

yourusername: i might have to move to another country, change my name and get bangs :(

yourbff: NOT BANGS

landonorris: who are you people and why are you always camping out in our comment sections

yourusername: WE'RE NO ONe

landonorris: WAIT I HAVE MUTUALS WITH YOU?

landonorris: NOOOOOOOOO

landonorris: she blocked me?

yourbff

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 304 others

tagged: yourusername

yourbff: take a good look at her folks because i have reason to believe that if a certain someone turns up at the show she will KILL HERSELF. love you queen, rest in divadom

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yourusername: this sounds very dramatic

yourusername: but you are correct

yourusername: my life will come to a short and all round inconsequential end tonight

yourbff: it is dramatic

yourbff: but i understand queen

yourbff: your celebrity crush who you have had a parasocial relationship with for years is coming with the express purpose of embarrasing you because he believes you are a sad, sad woman who has created an elaborate lie that you're in a relationship

yourusername: well yeah that sums it up pretty well - you think you could put that on my head stone?

yourbff: i don't think we can afford that

landonorris: i can pay!

yourusername: AHHHHHHH

yourbff: AHHHHHH

landonorris: oh forgot to say but found you! we have a lot of mutual friends lol

landonorris: actually i think my mum and your mum are in the same book club!

yourusername: you're aware this is creepy?

landonorris: you're aware that pretending to be my friend's girlfriend is creepy

yourusername: THERE WAS A GROSS MISUNDERSTANDING OVER MY DESK DECOR

landonorris: sureeeeeee

yourusername: also charles isn't even the only man i have framed on my desk, i have my dog, justin from wizards of waverely place, jason kelce and marc marquez, he's just the one the old lady picked out

yourbrother: now we have actual f1 drivers in the comments, how can we get free tickets from them?

yourusername: so my impending suicide means nothing?

yourbrother: not really. i might take your car if you die

charles_leclerc: so this was all one big scheme to get tickets? there's no show ???

yourbrother: that's what you're focusing on? not that she has a whole town under the impression that you're dating some irrelevant primary school teacher?

yourusername: rude?

charles_leclerc: a primary school teacher? that's cute

yourusername: wait did you think i was just doing the nativity for the love of the game?

yourbrother: who gives a fuck he called you CUTE

yourusername: oh!

yourbrother: she passed out :/

charles_leclerc: i didn't know i had that kind of effect on people

landonorris: oh fuck off of course you do

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 1,539,056 others

tagged: yourusername

charles_leclerc: met my long lost girlfriend (and most importantly her dog)

view all comments

user20: omg i do not know how to feel

user21: WHO WAS GOING TO TELL ME SHE'S THAT BEAUTIFUL

user22: i 100% thought the gal was gonna at least be in her 40s

landonorris: i guess she puts on a pretty good nativity

charles_leclerc: which kid is your cousin?

landonorris: the lobster!

pierregasly: LOBSTER?

charles_leclerc: @yourusername why was there a lobster?

yourusername: ummmm there's a lot of kids in the class and i was running out of roles? all animals are gods creations?

charles_leclerc: seems sacrilegious but it was cute <3

charles_leclerc: just like you

pierregasly: that was awful

yourusername: SHUT UP

yourusername: thank you charles :)

charles_leclerc: no worries princess x

user23: i am losing my mind ?????

user24: bro got tricked into going to SOMERSET and has actually fallen for her

user25: i mean ... look at her

yourusername: i do also have a cracking personality if i do say so myself

yourbff: oh girl you needed it after i held your hair back three times in the lead up to meeting charles

yourusername: and i will repay you somehow ???

yourbff: well.... now you've charmed a certain someone can we inquire about his pool of friends

landonorris: hi!

charles_leclerc: no not that one he's not cute enough

landonorris: you're really mean

charles_leclerc: @yourbff may i introduce my good buddy joris

landonorris: JORIS ???

charles_leclerc: well i regularly want to throttle you so i think it would be better to go on double dates with someone i actually like ?

user26: charles leclerc is the origin of the sassy man apocalypse

user27: i think the paddock was the start of it all

yourusername: i can't believe this actually happened :')

charles_leclerc: and i can't wait to see where it goes

yourusername: see you for new years pretty boy

charles_leclerc: i think i already know who my new years kiss might be

yourusername: i'm already waiting :3

fin.

note: i hope you all had a fun christmas! i had a great day with my family and am workin hard to get the rest of this series out!

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #f1 social media au #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc smau #charles leclerc social media au

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theconcealedweapon · 2 days ago

Text

"How am I supposed to tell the difference between an autistic child asking for clarification and a defiant child challenging my authority?"

You're not.

Wanting to be treated like an authority is inherently harmful to autistic people. And that's true no matter how many autism textbooks you read.

When you expect someone to obey you, you're naturally going to look for ways to interpret everything as disobedience.

And when you misinterpret something, no one is going to correct you. Your autistic child will not know how to explain things to you because their autism makes explaining things difficult, because they're a child who never had the chance to figure out how to do that, and because they'll be punished for arguing if they phrase something wrong. Other adults will most likely also be authoritarian and will agree with you. Other children will most likely be afraid they'll get in trouble too if they don't stay out of it. And when no one corrects you, you'll naturally use that as evidence that you're right.

#autism #actuallyautistic #ableism

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bluzebub19 · 3 days ago

Note

I have a request for how the Arcane characters (Viktor, Jayce, Jinx, Vi, Heimerdinger, Ekko) look so that the reader can access their cuteness. Maybe they are doing or saying something to the reader and the reader suddenly starts hugging and petting them, calling them cute. How would they react to this?

Note: So... I'm the only one who thinks Heimerdinger is really cute. Why aren't there fanfics with him? Mysteries of life..

Arcane characters being called cute by their s/o while they're working

Writer's note: Thanks for requesting! It took longer than I expected because I kept deleting some of the dialogue from how cheesy and cringe it sounded lmao. Heimerdinger is not on my list of characters I write for, but I figured I'll write him this one time. I hope you don't mind that I also added Mylo, cuz why not?

Request/s: Open!

Warning/s: Get a dentist. This is some tooth-rotting fluff. Not proofread and english isn't my native language.

Character/s: Viktor, Jayce, Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Heimerdinger and Mylo

● Viktor tends to get lost in his work, mumbling equations or sketching out blueprints for his projects. You find this incredibly endearing, but not when he gets so absorbed that he forgets to eat or sleep.

● If you suddenly hug him or call him cute, he’ll freeze in shock at first. He blinks up at you as if you just said something in a language he doesn’t understand. Then, his cheeks will flush a light pink, and he’ll chuckles softly. “Cute is... not a term I hear often. But thank you."

● Over time, he grows more comfortable and secretly enjoys the affection. He may even lean into it, but he’ll never outright admit it. Instead, he might deflect with a shy smile and, “You should focus on more important matters."

● Yeah no, that's a sign for you to keep doing it.

● Jayce is the golden boy—confident, charming, and ridiculously handsome. He likes to appear professional and put-together, but you know him well enough to see through that exterior to the dorky, hardworking man beneath.

● When you hug him out of nowhere while he cooks and call him cute, he blinks for a second but chuckles as he turns to look at you. “Cute? Babe, I’m going for ruggedly handsome and sweet here. But I'll take it."

● Still, he's flattered and loves the affection you give him. And unlike Viktor, he's not afraid or shy to show you he wants more of it. He might pull you closer and say, "You're one to talk." He's a romantic and albeit cheesy guy.

● Now, you probably might be thinking about why and how is he cooking, but that's for another headcanon! (I just realized how I'm not even sure whose side am I on. Can he cook?? Cuz I feel like he can. But I also see him burning food-)

● Jinx, as we all know, is pure chaos, always working on something explosive or messing around. She has a habit of humming and singing off-key to herself while she works, which makes you think she’s oddly cute in her own... quirky way. To be honest, it’s hard not to find her enthusiasm contagious, even if it’s a little dangerous.

● One day, you catch her doing exactly that while painting her trademark designs on one of her grenades. The sight just makes you smile as you walk up and wrap your arms around her, telling her, “You’re so cute when you’re focused like this,” or something of the sort.

● She’ll throw her hands up and turn to look at you, trying to play off your compliment as a joke. “Woah, you might be crazier than me!" She grins and laughs softly, before making her voice sound more gruff, "Ya buttering up the author nightmares with your mooshy stuff!”

● But after her initial over-the-top reaction, she’ll soften. “Fine, soak it all in.” She shrugs and continues working. But deep down, she really loves the affection and she's getting more and more attached to you. You're giving her the kind of love that she thinks she never deserved in her life, so she really appreciates these little things you do. She might even snuggle up to you later, claiming it’s to “soak in all this ‘cute’ energy.”

● Oh, by the way, she'll make this happen a lot more often. By how, you ask? Well, by doing the same thing to you, of course! It becomes a little challenge betweem the two of you who calls the other one cute first and catching them off guard with it.

● Vi is all tough love and sass, but there’s a soft side she shows only to the people she really cares about. You notice this when she’s being protective or just in those peaceful moments when you're both alone together.

● If you call her cute, she’ll raise an eyebrow and smirk. “Cute? Babe, I think you’ve got the wrong person.”

● Later, she’ll definitely tease you about it, saying something like, “So, how’s it feel dating the cutest person in Zaun?” or "Am I still cute?" with a playful grin. She'll be teasing you and making you smile with that while she's half naked and flexing her biceps (she knows you love them), or when she just got done with a fight and is still holding her gauntlets.

● She loves it, don't let that teasing fool you.

● Heimerdinger is an adorable bundle of wisdom and fluff. You often catch him rambling about science with such enthusiasm that you can’t help but smile. Look at him! He's just adorable!

● One day, as he’s showing you a tiny contraption he just finished, you can’t help but reach out and pet his fluffy head, saying, “You’re the most cutest genius ever.”

● Heimerdinger chuckles, his mustache twitching with amusement. “Ah, well, I suppose I do have a certain charm about me, don’t I?”

● He pretends to be unaffected, but you notice the way his tail swishes slightly when you hug him. “I must say, your affection is quite... energizing! Perhaps I should study its effects further.”

● From then on, he might start subtly seeking out your affection—like casually leaning into your hand when you pet him or “accidentally” bumping into you while working.

● Ekko is talking to you about his plans for the Firelights while sketching upgrades for their hoverboards.

● You were quietly admiring him, the way his eyes light up and the focused furrow of his brows, when you suddenly blurt out, “You’re so cute when you’re focused.”

● He freezes for a second, then looks at you with a mixture of surprise and amusement. “Cute? Me?” He grins, a soft laugh escaping. “You sure you’re not talking about yourself there?”

● He rubs the back of his neck, trying to act nonchalant, but the smile gives him away.

● “You’re not getting away with saying that,” he teases, leaning in to nudge you lightly with his shoulder. He goes back to doing his work before playfully adding, “But if you keep looking at me like that, I might just start believing it.”

● It's these little things that matters. These moments, even if simple, it gives him hope and motivation to make the world a better place. The way his eyes soften when you look at him in that moment, and how he lets his guard down just enough to show you he cares — it’s clear that, while he teases, he loves the attention, and he loves you even more for it.

● Dude's got lines fr fr

● Mylo has always been the type of guy who had a sarcastic, sassy remark ready. We all know that from how he treated Powder.

● When you suddenly hug him and call him cute, he freezes for a second, unsure of how to react. “Cute? Me?” He scoffs, trying to play it cool, but it's very obvious he's a bit flustered by it. “Out of all the compliments you could’ve picked, you went with cute? I’m more like... cool, and handsome.” He throws a dramatic, exaggerated pose, trying to hide his nervousness.

● Despite his teasing, there's a small, pleased grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He tries to act nonchalant, but the way he keeps glancing at you shows how much he’s secretly enjoying it.

● “Seriously, though. I’m cool, alright?” he continues, trying to regain his confidence. “I don’t do cute. But, uh... thanks. I guess.” He says softly as he shrugs, clearing his throat.

● Later on, when no one’s watching, you might catch him glancing at you from the corner of his eye, a small smile on his face, clearly still flattered.

Can you guys guess which is my favorite based on how long their headcanons are

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amaranthinespirit · 3 days ago

Text

professor!simon riley ruining his goody-two shoes student cw: teacher-student relationship (all parties are of age) inspired by this post from @ebodebo

you were a good student, an eager to please college attendee that most people couldn't stand. studious and stupidly-smart, studies wise anyway.

most of your teachers liked you. how could they not? you reached the bar in their class, hell, you even raised it. but that couldn't be said about every class you took. you had this one professor who couldn't stand you, and you couldn't either.

professor riley was lazy in your eyes, he didn't give you, the class, enough, whether it was in terms of school work or personality, the daunting man was an enigma, and the epitome of gloom. perhaps he was suppressed with melancholy, but that wasn't your issue to deal with, you just wanted him to give a damn.

but maybe lazy wasn't the right word to label him as because he certainly wasn't, in terms of physique anyway. you shook your head at the thought, disgust crossing your face whenever you caught yourself thinking as such.

he wasn't lazy, professor riley knew his stuff, but you always had to do extra studying outside of his class to even understand the material. it was like you were teaching yourself, and that was not an easy feat.

it also didn't help that when you got one of your exams handed back to you, your eyes were sparked with anticipation as the paper landed on your desk, you couldn't wait to see-

a 69%?

how could this be? you studied meticulously for hours, combing through all the material you were sure was going on the test, but you got a 'd'?

your face was knit with confusion, brows furrowed deeply as you flipped through the pages. every single question marked right, did professor riley suffer from amnesia before grading your test? or rather, when putting the mark on the front page?

you were fuming, glaring up to see that wicked smirk pulling at his lips as your eyes locked. you felt more than petty loathing, more than just not standing him.

it was later, classes are out and no students lingered in the building, but professor riley's office hours remained open, and now you took advantage of it. you grasped your wrongfully marked exam tightly in your fist, creasing the paper under your palm as you stomped into his room.

there he sat, in the dark with only a dim lamp, hunched over his desk grading more papers, wrongfully marking them most likely. he heard the heavy footsteps and the echo that followed you, glancing up at you, a ghost of a smile cursing his lips.

he leaned back in his office chair, the hinges squeaking under his weight as he set down his fancy fountain pen, "evenin', unusual t'see ya durin' m'office hours, what can I do f'ya?" his voice was gruff, heavy with exhaustion and eyes in need of sleep as they trailed over your flushed face.

your body was flushed and radiated heat, chest slightly heaving from the walk over. it didn't help with his gaze on your figure, eyes basically scrutinizing you as you stood in front of his teacher's desk, "sir, i'd like to talk to you about the exam," you spoke through gritted teeth, looking down at him as you swallowed thickly.

you were looking for answers because certainly you found the right ones on your test, but for some reason, he fucked you over. but with the way his eyes seemed to linger, maybe he was looking for more.

though his eyes lit up in realization, a grin breaking out onto his lips as he hummed lowly, looking you over, "ah, yes, was there a specific question y'were lookin' to-"

before he could finish, you slammed the test down onto his desk, the bright red pen that displayed the grade glaring up at him. you acted without thinking, impulsive and brass.

your voice was raised, without a doubt, angry and hostile, "more like the whole damn test, a 68 percent?" you took a deep breath, chest heaving as you cross your arms against it, "i know i did better than a 'd', sir."

he merely scoffed, he couldn't believe the audacity you had to speak to your professor like that. he glanced down at the test before looking back up at you, his eyes betraying no emotion, not a hint of sympathy or kindness behind the amber of his iris, "yeah, y'did." he answered simply.

you looked to him with further confusion, eyes widening ever so slightly, "so why is my grade so low?"

"felt like you needed it." he shrugged it off so casually, it made your blood boil. his audacity to mark your test so low because he felt like it? no, no, felt like you needed it?

you scoffed in disbelief, taking a step towards his desk, "riley-"

he cut you off in correction, "professor. riley." he paused between the two simple words, heavy emphasis. you wouldn't let him see the falter in your expression at his firm correction show how his tone made your stomach twist and thighs clench.

"professor riley," you adhered to his corrections as you took another breath to calm yourself from more than just anger, eyes fluttering shut momentarily. "it's not fair! you can't just give me a bad grade because you feel like it!"

he watched as you raised your hands as you spoke, slapping back down to your thighs as his gaze followed your gestures, lingering at the bare skin of your legs.

you gulped at his heavy gaze, feeling your skin crawl where his eyes seem to linger, goosebumps rising along your even skin. he seemed to notice the way your thighs clenched together, your stiff posture uncomfortable and awkward, fingers flexing at your side.

"but I did, so what do you plan to do about it?" he cocks his head to the side, a silent challenge to you as your eyes narrow. he can't deny that you irk him, such a pretty little thing practically begging for validation, validation he didn't want to give you. he also can't deny the way he fucks his fat cock into his fist, aching and throbbing angrily at the thought of you.

before you can answer his question, he asks another, "d'you touch yer'self thinkin' abo'me, love?" his tone is sly like he's got the upper hand as he leans back casually, elbow propped on his desk.

the question stuns you, renders your english useless as your jaw falls open, looking at him in silence as you can do nothing but stutter hopelessly. though, you can't deny the subtle flutter of your pussy in your lacy underwear, clenching around nothing as slick drools from your slit.

the question grinds the gears in your head, puts you back to the many late nights with your fingers plunging into your drenched cunt, small fingers, imagining they were his lengthy, thick digits, only barely managing to graze that spongy spot deep in your pussy. his name, full of loathe, falling from your lips in a soft mewl as you cum, release coating your skin.

he merely chuckles at your stutters and zoned out gaze, "guess that answers it," his shoulders shake with his huffs of laughs that he disguised as unevens breath, "you're a good student, y'know that? surely, ya do, swee'eart, or ya wouldn't be 'ere."

neither of you speak for a second after his words, letting them hang in the air as it grows thick with tension, tension that's built up since the first day of classes. unbeknownst to each other, you'd been getting off to the idea of one another for weeks, channeling your hatred into self pleasure in a form of denial.

it's weird to finger yourself to the idea of your professor, but he's hot! he's tall, brooding and tatted with a thick accent, not to mention smart. but gross, he's your professor! decades older than you, surely, and not interested in a girl like you, his student, no less.

the tension further mounts, and he decides to speak up when he realizes you aren't going to say anything, still too stunned, "tell ya what, y'can earn yer grade back by givin' me a nice blo'job."

his words are blunt, turning your throat dry, but also making you salivate at the thought, your eyes subconsciously trailing down his button-up shirt down to his slacks. you gulp at the tightness that seems to pull at the material, bulging slightly at the seams.

you don't know what to say. you should say no, and you have no clue why you hadn't yet, why you hadn't turned and ran out the door at such disgusting words leaving your teacher's mouth, but you can't help but feel excited at the thought, oh it's so wrong, but so exhilarating.

still, you can't find the courage to accept the offer, no matter how much you wanted to raise your grade, so you stumble nervously over your words, "sir, I don't know-"

"you're such a goody-two shoes, no?" he asks, eyebrows lifted in confusion. you wouldn't call yourself a goody-two shoes if it was up to you, but you knew that's how others see you, and so does he. "so be a good girl and get on your knees," he finishes, big, veined hands slowly moving to his belt, unclasping it.

the sound fills the empty class, and suddenly your heart's in your throat, and your body's moving on its own. why are you listening to him? do you seriously crave validation so much? from your professor, no less.

"atta'girl," he cooed, gathering your hair in his large hand, wrapping the strands around his palm as he held your head firmly in front of him. he watches your nervous gaze, pretty doe eyes staring up at him with uncertainty. god, you really needed him to guide you, fuelled by guidance and praise. "put yer hands on'me, swee'eart."

your dainty hands slid up onto his knees, fingers drumming against his lower thigh in an anxious outlet. though, despite your uncertainty, you seemed to be guided by adrenaline, going off the hours of teacher-student porn you watched alone in your dorm room when your dorm mate was out.

tracing along the inner seams of his dark trousers, until you reached his crotch. you felt the way he twitched through the fabric at your unsure, naive touch, his bulge tightly straining against his pants.

you felt more confident the more you touched him, especially as his breaths started to get more laboured the higher up you touched and teased him, priding welling up in your chest that only encouraged you further. a sweet smirk on your face as you slowly unzipped his trousers, freeing him from the confines of the tight fabric.

you salivated at the sight, subconsciously biting your lip as you eyed the thick veins that decorated his pretty, pink cock. the sticky pre that coated his boxers, leaking and oozing from his angry tip. he was hard, and hung.

he chuckled breathlessly as the way your throat bobbed, no doubt a nervous gulp traveling down your esophagus as you eyed the size of him. you weren't even sure you could fit your lips around him, much less your weeping pussy that gushed at the sight.

"c'mon, love, 's not a starin' contest, is't?" he joked with a breathy huff, a rough finger caressing your cheek as he eased your gaze away from his engorged cock and back to his honey irises, "tha's betta', baby, keep lookin' a'me with those pre'ty eyes."

your fingers were tentative, sharp fingernails tracing his veins, pupils growing at the sharp inhale he sucked in through his teeth as you studied his cock. he loved your eyes on him, feeding into his ego as if it wasn't big already, gaining silent validation from a girl that fed on academic praise.

and the fact that your fingertips barely met when you wrapped your slender fingers around his thick cock, his self esteem growing exponentially at the sight and blood further rushed down south.

he groaned at your amateur movements, wrist stiff as your smooth palm felt a bit abrasive against his sensitive cock. god, you were so unpracticed and nervous, he just had to guide you, "spit on y'r hand, yeah, good girl," he cooed, his thumb careeming your bottom lip, spreading your saliva across the plush pink.

he couldn't help the satisfied hum at your now slick movements, the way your thumb caught the tip of his angry cock, smearing pre along the spongy head. his head thrown back at the tentative taste you took with your pretty tongue, not missing the small contortion of your features at the salty taste. if he knew he would get you on your knees for him, he would've eaten sweet fruits in advance.

but now he knows for the future, he'll keep his fridge stocked, and maybe slip you a few smoothies to make you that pinch more sweet for when he does get a taste of what's between your thighs.

you were sure you were doing a terrible job, no way any guy would be satisfied with the uneven strokes of your tongue on the underside of his cock, but regardless, professor riley praised endlessly, "yeah, tha'sit, baby," he tugged you closer, causing your lips to wrap around his girth snuggly.

you tried doing what you had seen in porn, but then again, you were too busy imagining the main guy as your professor that now had his cock stuffed in your mouth.

it was embarrassing, downright humiliating because it was so glaringly obvious that you were trying to please him, movements hasty and unnatural as you furthered down on his lengthy dick.

his cock inched further in your mouth, his spongy tip punching the back of your throat all too quickly. it caused tears to brim your eyes and you clenched them shut, sputtering on him as spit pooled from your lips. he pulled you gently back from his dick by your hair, noticing how you'd just frozen up when you couldn't breath with his dick shoved down your throat.

he shushed you, cooing softly as he wiped a wad of saliva that bubbled at your lips, smearing it on your skin as it connected in a string back to him, "know my office 'ours don't last al'night, but surely, 's not'a race, yeah?" he cocks his head to the side, watching your bashful expression as you catch your breath, cheeks flushed and red, "take y'r time, baby, if 's too much, we'll revisit another time, hm?"

you swallow thickly. you didn't want to revisit this another time, you wanted it now. you had fantasized about him for months, even when you convinced yourself you were sick in the head for liking him. since the moment you caught a glance of him, he hadn't left your thoughts, merely convinced it was a behavior that sprung from loathing.

it didn't help that when you first locked eyes, you went back to your dorm and delved your fingers deep in your desperate cunt, clenching around yourself with the thought that they were his fingers instead of your dainty ones.

you just glared up at him indifferently, convinced you could handle it in any semblance of dignity, that you knew what you were doing after all—you didn't, but he didn't need to know. he did though.

he just barked out a harsh laugh, shoulders shaking as he shook his head. it made you want to recoil into a shell, like a hermit, or a turtle, somewhere safer than between his meaty thighs and in front of his meaty cock.

"you're so clueless, swee'eart," he calms down, his chest still rising and falling at an elevated pace, "i know ya'want to raise y'r test score, but bein' sloppy 'bout it isn't gonna help, yeah?" he speaks tauntingly, his tone coaxing and smooth.

he continued, "don't y'think a more thorough job will do the trick?" you hate that he's right. you hate that you have you spend any more time between the sanctuary of his toned legs, dusted with light blonde hairs that grew thicker near the base of his cock, though neatly trimmed, a stark contrast to his dark trousers as it sprouts out from beneath the material.

but he is the professor after all, let him teach you, yeah?

you let out a grumble through your lips, a deep frown remaining on your face as you return to his pretty, swollen cock, tentative licks along the veins as you stare into his eyes. you observe the way his lashes flutter, mumbling with your lips pressed to his sensitive skin, "i'll do it how i want." defiant, causing a rise of infuriated irritation to creep under his skin.

he growls. you just had to be a smartass about it. here he was, being so gentle, patient, and kind as well, for even allowing you to make up those 'lost' points, and all you do is bite back as if you don't want him just as much.

you squeak out as he tugs slightly at your hair, fist tightening in the strands. your eyes widen like a deer in headlights. frozen and doe eyed as you stare up at him, indifferent expression wiped from your face as his throbbing cock presses into your cheek. the warmth from his skin seeps into yours, the hand not in your hair holding the base of his dick, slapping it lightly back onto your face.

"be nice, yeah? i'm being s'generous to let y'make up these points in the firs' place," he gives a gentle nod of his head once, his expression firm and eyebrows raised as he studies you, "don't be a brat, doesn't suit you." with a final slap of his cock to your face, he loosens his grip and lets you go back to ministrations, patience returning now that you're back to the sweet and docile student you were a few minutes ago.

he hums pleasantly as you trace your pretty tongue along his veins once again, his calloused hand rough against your cheek as he smeared the saliva left from slapping his cock against your sweet face, rough enough to move and tug your face in different directions.

you just ignore his touches, lavishing on his cock as you kiss up and down his shaft, taking your time before you even attempt to wrap your lips around him again. either way, he seems to be enjoying the view, the tiny glimpse of your thighs twitching causes his to flex on either side of you.

soon, you have your swollen lips back around the tip of his drooling cock, still oozing gooey globes of pearly pre that tasted salty on your tongue. certainly an acquired taste, that is if you end up back between his meaty, muscular thighs, which you try to convince yourself you wouldn't be. this was a one-off thing, for your grades.

you aren't sure how you look in the moment, but you have a feeling you look a mess, hair frizzy, tousled and tangled around his fist, slurping on his cock with lewd sucks as drool drops to the ground with small splats. god, it really is filthy how ruined you already looked, such an innocent thing reduced to a professor-sucking whore.

his eyes stayed locked on yours, his pupils nearly blown completely as his iris is barely visible, replaced with a black void, or maybe his eyes are just that dark. you couldn't tell with your hazy vision staring back. your ears rang, but you didn't miss the way he sounded more desperate, increasingly vocal as you lavished his throbbing cock, reveling in the way it twitched against your pink tongue.

you only whined as he gently bucked his hips up against your face, cock pistoning to the back of your throat with light gags until you felt thick ropes of warm, creamy cum spill inside your throat, forcing you to swallow the salty substance.

it didn't dawn on you that you just gave your professor a blowjob until you pulled off his cock, positively ruined and lips coated thickly in saliva, now being layered with his spend as he rubs his cockhead against your lower lip. you looked frozen in shock at your actions, subconsciously licking the saltiness from your lips as you peered up at him, stroking himself a few more times for good measure, milking his release before storing his now satisfied cock back into his pants.

he just cradled your face after, pulling a handkerchief from one of his drawers to wipe your face and help you stand, cooing with praise as he did so. once you got back to your two feet, he handed over the cloth for you to tidy your appearance with, not taking notice when you slipped it into your back pocket.

your dainty fingers went to the first button of your cutesy blouse, only for embarrassment to creep up onto your face as you watched him shake his head, tsk'ing with a small huff as he spoke, "sorry, office hours ar'over, swee'eart, come see me t'morrow if ya need s'more clarification on yer grades," he pauses, a cocky smirk on his face as he glances up at you, his head tilted downwards now as he turns back to grading papers, "or if ya wan't'do more t'raise it..."

bastard.

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headkiss · 3 days ago

Text

it’s christmas (this is gonna be a nightmare)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve puts a little too much pressure on himself to make this holiday a magical one. or: 4 times steve messes up your first christmas together, +1 time it's perfect.

word count: 7.4k

content: established relationship, one injury (no blood!), some kisses, a lot of steve's thoughts, and a love confession <3 fluff all around!!!

a/n: a full length fic!! it's a christmas miracle!! thank you to the anon who sent the ask that inspired this fic and to all of u for being here. i love u, happy holidays <3

⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇

Steve Harrington doesn’t know too much about what exactly a perfect Christmas looks like. He has his parents to thank for that.

What he does know is that this year has to be just that: perfect. Because this year he has you.

Though you went to high school together, you and Steve properly met in the summer. Right at the beginning of it, where the evenings still have a chill of wind but the sun cuts through it with welcomed warmth. Robin convinced him to take her to the flower shop just outside of town, and you’d been behind the counter to greet them.

Robin recognized you, and she chatted your ear off while you helped her pick a bouquet with the sweetest smile Steve had ever seen and he felt like an absolute moron for never having noticed you before at school. But he noticed you then.

He’d forced Robin to wait for him in the car while he stayed back, bought you your own bouquet of flowers from the store as if you weren’t the one who’d made them, and asked you on a date. Steve fumbled the whole way through, pricking himself with a rose thorn and cussing mid-sentence, but you still said yes.

You’ve been together ever since, and Steve feels incredibly lucky for it. Lucky for how kind you are, how well you fit in with his friends, how much the kids (Max, especially, though he won’t call her out on it) like you. Lucky for being allowed to grab your hand, to kiss you whenever he wants.

And, on the nights you stay over that grow more frequent with each month, lucky to have you fill the space in the Harrington home that usually feels so cold and empty.

So, maybe the holidays make him extra sentimental, maybe he cares a little too much about making sure it’s the best damn Christmas you could have. Maybe, for once, he’s actually looking forward to it all.

Robin startles him into the present — leaning on the counter at Family Video — with a stiff poke to the cheek. “Dude, I can literally tell you’re thinking about her by the look on your face. It’s kinda gross.”

He scoffs at her, even though he probably was making a face. “Sounds like jealousy to me, Buckley.”

“Shut up, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even know each other! I deserve compensation.”

Steve hangs his head dramatically. Robin is never letting that go. Ever.

“My friendship isn’t enough for you?” Steve says, placing a hand over his heart, “You wound me.”

“You annoy me,” she says, flicking his arm.

“Ow- whatever. You’ll be free of me in like five minutes.”

Steve checks his watch just to be sure. Robin’s closing by herself today, and while Steve would normally just stay and bother her anyways, he’s got plans that involve you and takeout and napping together on his couch.

As if the thought conjures it, you walk through the door, the bell jingling cheerily above your head, Steve’s car keys dangling from your fingertips. (Yes, he lets you drive the BMW.)

“Thank God,” Robin says when she sees it’s you. “Please get rid of him, he’s getting on my nerves.”

You smile and walk towards Steve, who immediately tosses an arm over your shoulders and pulls you in close, stamping a kiss to the side of your head.

You turn your head to the side and look at him, “What did you do?”

Steve gasps, “Me? Honey, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

You send him a wink, and Steve grins. He fucking loves having you with him, being able to speak without speaking. Your hand grabbing his and squeezing says I missed you, his squeezing back says me too.

“Okay, please remove your public displays of affection from the store and leave me alone with the overplayed Christmas song radio station, thank you.” Robin announces.

“Don’t miss me too much, Robs. I know it’ll be tough,” Steve says, guiding you forward.

“Good to see you, Robin!” you wave on your way out.

“You too!” And just before the door closes behind you, Robin’s voice rings out; “You’re my favourite half of the relationship!”

Your smile widens. Steve is the best thing that’s happened to you, and his friends becoming yours is one of the greatest bonuses you could ask for. It’s like his life made room for you as simply as the ocean’s tide pulls in and out. Gentle and certain.

He catches the keys when you toss them to him, and Steve’s mood just seems to lift and lift on the drive back to his place with you in the passenger seat, Christmas lights lining the streets glowing on your cheeks.

Yeah, he thinks, this Christmas is going to be perfect.

That weekend Steve calls you and tells you to be ready by noon and to dress warmly. He doesn’t tell you much else besides his usual ‘see you soon, honey’ or ‘miss you’ murmured sweetly through the phone.

As instructed, you’re dressed in a pair of jeans and one of your favourite knitted sweaters, your brown leather jacket overtop and socked feet stuffed into your Doc Martens. Though you feel plenty warm, Steve will probably fuss over you and hold you close for body heat anyways. And, well, you’d never be opposed to that.

Steve’s BMW rolls into your driveway exactly one minute past twelve, and by the time you walk outside to meet him, he’s already standing on the passenger side of the car waiting to open the door for you.

“Always a gentleman,” you say, kissing him quickly on the cheek.

You slide into the seat that’s become yours for the most part, and Steve ducks down to kiss you properly on the mouth before pulling back, “Mm maybe not always.”

He closes your door and you laugh lightly, your face a little warm even though he’s been your boyfriend for months now. You don’t think you’ll ever be unaffected by Steve Harrington’s charm, ever be used to it being aimed at you.

Of course, you knew of him in school, but knowing the real thing, the kind, caring boy who’d been buried under King Steve back then, is probably the greatest gift you’ve ever had.

Steve drives with one hand just above your knee, his thumb running back and forth over the stitching in your jeans. Still, he doesn’t tell you where he’s taking you, his only hint was to “pay attention to the radio station.”

It’s playing Christmas music. Like that narrows things down a whole bunch.

You chat the entire way. Steve asks you how the flower shop is doing (“Poinsettias are flying off the shelves”), you ask him who he got for the group’s secret Santa this year (“Max. I’m going to need your assistance”). It’s so easy to talk to him, to laugh and joke and not have to worry about what you say or how you come off.

You never knew being with someone could be so easy until Steve.

Eventually, he pulls into the long driveway of a farm. A Christmas tree farm, to be exact, if the wooden arch you drive through is to be trusted.

“What are you planning, Harrington?”

He shrugs, his hand squeezing your knee, “Thought we could pick out a tree together. Put it up at the house. My parents aren’t gonna be around — shocker, I know — I figured we’d do it together. Make it our own.”

Steve pats your leg before letting it go and putting the car in park, his palms dragging over his thighs like he’s suddenly nervous.

“Our first Christmas tree,” you say quietly, almost to yourself, a smile creeping onto your face. He really is sweet. “I love it. Let’s go adopt a tree, Stevie.”

He flashes you a smile before getting out and jogging around the hood to open your door for you. You’ve learned to wait for him to do it since you’ve been together. The last time you tried to open your own door he made you close it again just so he could be the one to open it.

Before, you’d never really cared about that sort of thing, but Steve has single-handedly raised your expectations.

He grabs your hand and leads you towards the classic red and white barn, following the signs painted simply with a tree and an arrow pointing you in that direction.

When you turn the corner and see the selection of trees, however, Steve pauses.

There are maybe seven trees left, none of which are very impressive upon first glance. Their branches are skinny and the pine needles leave a lot of space to see through them. It’s safe to say these aren’t the Christmas trees Steve was hoping to surprise you with.

He was sure there’d be something better left, at least. And he’d been wrong. Minus a point on that perfect Christmas, he supposes.

Still, he walks you to the selection, the farm’s employee greeting the two of you as you walk up; “Hey y’all. Good afternoon!”

“Hey man,” Steve starts, “you wouldn’t happen to have any more trees left, would you?”

“Sorry folks, this is all we’ve got. Most people like to get ‘em early.”

Steve’s hope dwindles, and you can see him deflate a little bit.

You, however, don’t mind one bit. You tug on his arm to get his attention, and Steve turns to look at you, brown eyes shining like honey in the sunlight. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “Even the little trees need homes, right?”

He shakes his head with a small smile. It’s cute, he thinks, the way you tend to talk about plants as if they have feelings. You do it when you tell him about the flowers you sell, too.

“Right as usual, honey,” he decides. “Pick your favorites.”

So, you wind up with two small Christmas trees rather than one full one, and there’s a small victory in it when you and Steve strap them both to the top of the BMW without too much of a struggle.

Another victory when you sing along to ‘Last Christmas’ and hold out your fist as if there’s a microphone in your grip to get him to join you. Admittedly, it isn’t a very good rendition, but Steve loves it all the same.

You have a way of turning things around for him, even without knowing it.

When you get back to Steve’s, he brings both of the trees inside and sets them up before bringing down the bins of ornaments and lights from the attic. He only shouted once when a spider crawled over his hand.

Having two trees makes it easy to turn decorating into a lighthearted competition. You both claim one as your own and decorate them with string lights and tinsel and ornaments. Steve’s mom would probably have an aneurysm seeing them used so haphazardly.

Though by the end, your tree is definitely prettier, Steve still feels like he’s won something as you lean your back against his chest and his arms cross over your own, keeping you there.

As a kid, he wasn’t even allowed to do the decorating. Mrs. Harrington had to make everything look picture perfect, and Steve’s hands didn’t help with that. Not according to her.

Today couldn’t feel more different from those memories of his childhood.

“Yours is better,” he tells you, chin perched on your shoulder, his voice low in your ear.

Objectively, it probably is better (your prior experience with arranging plants was an advantage), but you don’t actually care about that.

Today felt like a little glimpse into the future you and Steve could have. It’s easy to picture it: your own apartment, buying decorations you both actually like, setting it all up together every year.

“I think they’re both brilliant,” you say.

And while today wasn’t what he was picturing, wasn’t what he’d hoped for with his ideal holiday in mind, Steve finds that he can certainly live with that. Your adorable little clap when you’d finished decorating was enough to cement it.

It’s only one thing. He’s got plenty of chances to be perfect later, he guesses.

Steve dips his head and kisses the top of your shoulder over your sweater.

You stay over at Steve’s that weekend. You’re both off work, and you find yourself spending your days (and nights) off with Steve more and more.

In the morning, you blink your eyes open slowly, naturally. No alarm set, your boy wrapped around you. It’s how you’ll spend every morning someday.

The sunlight sneaks through a crack in the curtains, cutting a line across Steve’s blue bedding. You squint at it, shifting onto your back gently. Steve’s arm remains slung over your waist as you move, his knee against your leg. You roll your head to the side to look at him, a smile creeping over your mouth at the way his cheek is smushed into the pillow, his lips pouting and hair a mess over his forehead.

Mornings have easily become your favorite time to spend with Steve. He’s cuddling you in some way every single time without fail, even when he wakes up. His voice is all low and gravelly from sleep and it feels like an honor to get to be the one to hear it like that. Usually, you spend an hour in bed with him after waking up. Laying together, talking, kissing. Sometimes (often) more.

You’d stay put right now if you didn’t have to pee so bad.

Slipping out of bed without Steve noticing proves a challenge, his arm tightens over you in his sleep, his brows scrunching. You whisper a soft “I’ll be right back.” He mumbles something incoherent, but his arm relaxes and you’re able to sneak away.

On your way back from the bathroom, you pause and take a peek out the window. You gasp happily at what you see: snow. A bright, white layer blanketing the ground sparkling in the sunlight.

You turn back to the bed and let yourself fall to it with a bounce, earning another grumbled protest from Steve, but there’s no way you’re going back to sleep now. You trail a hand up his arm to his shoulder, giving it a small shake, “Stevie, wake up.”

“Hm?” his eyes scrunch before opening. “What happened, honey?”

“It snowed!”

“Yeah?” he huffs a laugh at your excitement, his hand searching for yours in the sheets.

“Yeah, and it’s so pretty. We should go out before it melts.”

“It’s winter, sweetheart. Not gonna melt that fast.”

“Steve.”

“Okay, okay,” his hand leaves yours in favor of wrapping itself around you again, and he uses it to tug you close again. “Just five more minutes.”

His nose is pressed to the top of your head, and he breathes you in, smiling to himself. Mornings are Steve’s favorite, too. Only when they’re spent with you.

Secretly, he’s also happy about the snow. He was hoping mother nature would be on his side so that he could check yet another holiday item off his list with you. Hopefully one that will turn out nicer than the tiny trees you’d ended up with.

It’s definitely more than five minutes by the time you get Steve to get up and out of bed. You attempt to get him outside right away. He stops you with a: “No snow-related activities on an empty stomach!”

So, it’s a rushed breakfast of bagels and coffee provided by Steve, and then you’re gearing up and heading into the back yard.

The cold bites at your cheeks, and the tip of Steve’s nose is pink within minutes, but you love it.

There’s a snowman built together, snow angels made that get ruined when Steve rolls himself on top of you and steals a kiss or five. Naturally, all there is left to do is have a snowball fight.

You start it when you’re still on the ground, a hand sneaking into the snow to grab a handful and pressing it to the back of Steve’s head. He gasps, and you take the opportunity to push him to the side and get up.

“No fair!” he calls. “I was distracted and you went for the hair.”

“Your fault for not wearing a hat, babe,” you laugh.

“Oh, you won’t be laughing for long, honey. You’re in for it.”

And just like that, you’re running around like kids in a schoolyard, hiding behind trees, slugging snowballs at each other and cheering when you manage to not miss.

Steve silently thanks mother nature or the universe or whatever made it snow for the wide smile on your face, your eyes shining with mirth.

At one point, you’re suddenly distracted by something in the trees, and the snowball is out of Steve’s hand before he sees you start to look towards him again.

It hits you square in the face.

A quick “Ow” comes out of your mouth, though it really doesn’t hurt that bad. Your first reaction is just to let it slip, but Steve’s heart sinks to his stomach.

“Shit, honey.” He runs over to you and cups your face in his hands, his mittens soft against your skin as he brushes the snow from your face. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t tryin’ to get you in the face.”

Minus another point, for sure. Perfect Christmas: -2.

“I know, don’t worry,” you tell him, because he clearly is worrying.

“You okay?” he checks. He literally winces when you sniffle, frowns when he sees the way your eyes water. “Honey. I’m sorry.”

“Honestly, Steve, I’m fine,” you reach up and grab his wrists, squeezing them over his jacket. “I’m only crying ‘cause it got my nose. It doesn’t actually hurt.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you assure him. “Didn’t you used to play sports in school? Thought athletes had better aim.”

“I was a swimmer, baby. No projectiles involved.” He smiles softly when you laugh, but he can’t stop himself from asking one more time. “You’re really not hurt?”

“It’s just a bit of snow, Stevie.”

His eyes run over your face anyway before he nods. Then, he dips forwards and lightly kisses your cheek, the other, the tip of your nose, and your mouth.

“Well now I’m certainly all better,” you say against his lips.

Steve pulls back but doesn’t go far. “I think this snowball fight is over.”

“Buzzkill,” you tease.

He bends down and picks up a handful of snow before shoving it in his own face.

“Steve!” you laugh.

“There, now we’re even,” he says, snowflakes clinging to his lashes.

You let him lead you inside after that, his arm draping over your shoulders, yours hugging his middle as you walk across the yard.

Once you’ve both shed your layers of coats and boots and hats and mittens, Steve takes you upstairs and runs you a bath to warm you up. He apologizes another two times when he looks at your face for too long, and you have to kiss him to stop him uttering another ‘sorry.’

Hell, if it’s gonna make him this sweet on you, you’d probably take a snowball to the face any day.

Eventually, when the bathtub is full, a layer of bubbles over the surface, you coax Steve into joining you. He leans against the side with you between his knees, back settling into its home against his chest, his chin resting atop your head.

Steve runs his hands over your shoulders, presses kisses into your hair. All along he’s reminding himself that the next thing will go right. He won’t be throwing anything, at least.

The next weekend Steve calls you again. He asks you to be ready in the evening this time, but still keeps things vague other than the fact that you’ll be outside and need thick socks.

You have a pretty good idea of what he has in mind, but he’d called it a ‘redemption date’ over the phone and even though you truly don’t think he has anything to redeem himself for, you don’t want to spoil his plans, so you play along.

He comes to the front door when he picks you up this time, knocking gently as if you hadn’t been waiting for him by the windows.

“Hi, honey,” he drops a quick kiss to your lips, “had to come and approve your outfit. Don’t want you getting cold and stealing my jacket again.”

He’s lying, really. Steve fucking loves draping his own jacket over your shoulders and seeing you pull it tighter around you. When that happens, he braves the cold, but he figures that probably won’t be smart for spending hours outside.

“Aww, but yours is so much warmer than mine,” you pout jokingly.

Steve simply grabs your thickest jacket from a hook by the door and holds it out for you to slip your arms into.

As suspected, he drives you to a skating rink. He chose one a town over from Hawkins, where they have twinkle lights strung above the rink and rainbow Christmas lights lining the boards. Steve smiles when you gasp lightly in delight at the sight of it. The brightness cutting through the already dark night sky.

Steve guides you over to the skate rental booth first, bumping his hip into yours when you attempt to pay for the rentals. “As if. My idea, my wallet.”

“You don’t even let me pay when it’s my idea, either.”

“Well, that’s just chivalry, babe.”

You roll your eyes at him and thank the man behind the booth when he hands you both your skates. As you walk towards the lockers and cubbies set up nearby, you lean up and kiss Steve’s cheek, his light stubble scratching your lips.

“Thank you for this,” you say.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he tells you. “Though I should warn you that I’m not very good at this.”

“What? You, not good at something? Please.”

“No, seriously. I’m like bambi on ice.”

You laugh and shove his shoulder weakly, “Don’t worry. I’m probably even worse.”

Steve grins. So far, so good. This one will be perfect. Well, as perfect as it can be considering his skating skills.

You sit on one of the benches and Steve puts both of your shoes in one of the cubbies. He ties his own skates first before kneeling in front of you to help you with yours. He knows how to tie them, at the very least.

He helps you slip your feet into the skates first, then tightens the laces on one before peering up at you and checking, “Feel okay? Not too tight?”

“It’s good, Steve. I feel like Cinderella.”

“A perfect fit! She must be the one!”

“Dork.”

“That’s prince dork to you.”

Steve finishes up with your skates, squeezing your ankle before setting your foot down and standing back up.

On the ice, neither of you are very graceful. You hold onto the boards most of the time, and Steve stumbles and nearly falls every few strides, but you’re laughing and having fun, so who cares?

So what if you get lapped by multiple people on the rink, including children? So what if you get some side eyes for being too slow or in the way? Neither of you can bring yourselves to be bothered.

Best of all, Steve keeps a hold on your hand the entire time. He literally saves you from falling with his grip on your hand squeezing and pulling you up straight.

However, your hands being clasped also means that, inevitably, when one of you goes down, you both do.

It happens after a decent amount of laps; your toe pick catches on a dip in the ice and it’s all it takes for you to lose your balance. Steve somehow twists himself to catch the brunt of your fall.

He expected that to come with some pain, a couple bruises, maybe. Instead, his wrist twists painfully against the ice as he falls, as if he’d tried to catch himself with it, and he can’t help the hiss of pain that comes out when he lands.

“You okay, honey?” he asks you.

“Of course I am. I landed on you, Stevie. Are you okay?”

He tests his wrist out by flexing it, wiggling his fingers, and he tries to hide it but he winces when he does, a sharp pain shooting up his arm. “M’fine.”

“Bullshit, I saw that wince, Harrington.” You manage to get back up on your feet and hold out a hand for him to grab, “Up, I’m taking you to the ER.”

“No, no. I’m good.”

“Steve.”

“Baby.”

“Come on, you don’t want to make it worse, do you?” you urge him. “Plus, I’ll only keep worrying and bugging you about it until you let me take you to the doctor. Your wrist is already swelling, babe.”

Mostly because he doesn’t like the thought of you worrying about him, Steve agrees.

When both of your skates are off (your doing, this time) and given back to the booth, you reach into Steve’s coat pocket and grab the keys to the BMW. He doesn’t protest, and that alone tells you he must be hurting more than he’s letting on. You even manage to open your own door for once.

Steve’s quiet on the drive to the hospital, his hand resting limply on his leg. His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezing shut every so often when a burst of pain comes. You do your best to avoid any pot holes or bumps along the way.

Once there, you make him sit in one of the waiting room chairs, “I’ll get the check in forms and everything. Stay put, yeah?”

“Your wish is my command,” he says, trying to joke. His voice wobbles a tiny bit, though.

It’s at least an hour of waiting before someone can see him (and that’s including your many pesterings to the front desk). You don’t mean to be a bother, but you’ve never seen Steve injured in any serious capacity, and it’s messing with your head.

He took the weight of that fall to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt. The way he pays attention to things like that is one of the many reasons you love him.

You love him. You haven’t said the words to each other yet, but you’ve felt them for a long time already. It’s hard not to love Steve Harrington.

Finally, the doctor takes him back, and you follow. After an x-ray and some prodding, he determines that it’s a sprained wrist and that he should keep it wrapped for a few weeks to make sure it heals. They give him a prescription for some mild painkillers, too, for the first couple of days.

You breathe a sigh of relief knowing it isn’t broken, but Steve’s shoulders are still slumped.

He’s in pain, sure, his wrist now wrapped up in a tensor bandage, but really he feels defeated at messing yet another thing up. Third strike.

Steve lets you guide him back to the car and drive back to his place. You’ve decided you’re staying the night to take care of him, and as much as he hates looking weak or feeling useless, he’s glad to have you around.

You dote on him back at home, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer after making sure he’s settled on the couch, throwing a frozen pizza in the oven, bringing him meds and water.

“Honey, it’s just a sprain. Please stop fussing and sit with me.”

His brown eyes shine a little, and you could never say no to him when he looks at you like that.

You sit beside him and he drops his head to your shoulder, your hand coming up to play with the strands at the nape of his neck, scratching his scalp gently. His uninjured hand rests on your thigh and squeezes.

“Best painkiller ever,” he says.

Steve has convinced himself that nothing could possibly go wrong this time around.

His plans for today involve staying at home, just you and him, no outside forces to deal with or avoid. So much less potential for failure. That’s what he thinks, at least.

Steve knows nearly every piece of you, so, obviously he knows you like to bake. You’d made him a cake for his birthday, and every so often you bring him other treats from home. Naturally, that meant that there was no way he was leaving out Christmas baking.

He’d considered doing gingerbread houses, and then remembered that the last time he tried that in a competition with the kids, his house was nothing more than a messy pile of gingerbread slabs. One with a bite taken out of it.

So, considering his past failures this holiday season, he’d settled on something that he thinks — hopes — is really hard to mess up: sugar cookies.

His mother’s collection of cookbooks had never been used for more than decoration until now. Steve searched through them until he found a recipe, wrote down the ingredients, and bought them at the grocery store to make sure he had everything.

In school, he never did much studying, but he reread the hell out of that recipe in order to get at least this one thing right.

The tensor bandage is still wrapped around his wrist, which is fucking annoying, really. He has to adjust it every day, and it’s hard to do with a single hand. He much prefers when you do it for him, sealing it with a featherlight kiss.

Worse, the thing still hurts, and you refused to let him drive and put more strain on it than necessary, so you took the bus and walked the rest of the way to his house.

He’s got all of the ingredients and tools laid out on the island when you ring the doorbell. “Hurry up, Harrington, it’s freezing!”

Hurry he does. He lets you in and helps you unwrap yourself from your bundle of a scarf and hat and mittens and jacket. Steve dips in to kiss your cheek, your skin cold against his lips. “Wouldn’t have to freeze if you let me come get you.”

“I don’t want you hurting yourself for no reason, I’m fine,” you grab his uninjured hand and kiss the pads of his fingers, “and I like these hands.”

He smiles at your words, smug, “Yeah, I know you do, honey.”

You shake your head at him, but you’re smiling all the same, “I take it back. Your ego is getting too big.”

“Nooo, it’s just the right size,” he winks.

“Don’t you have plans, Steve?” you ask, changing the subject. “Getting a little off track, aren’t we?”

“Later, then,” he says, taking your hand with his good one and leading you to the kitchen.

You pause at the entryway of the kitchen, scanning over the things on the island, two aprons Steve must’ve dug up from somewhere hanging from the knobs of the cabinets.

“Tada,” he says, “we’re making cookies.”

“This might be my favourite one yet, Stevie.” You walk over and grab one of the aprons, leaving the other (a pink floral number) for Steve. “I’m in charge, though.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says, taking the other apron without a complaint. “This is your kitchen today, chef.”

“Mm. That has a nice ring to it.”

“Chef honey,” he says, planting a kiss where your neck meets your shoulder, breath warm even through your shirt.

You get started after that. Predictably, you make a mess with flour on the island and mixing bowls strewn about the surface. You get distracted with a bit of a flour war somewhere in there, Steve smudging it onto your cheek, you onto the tip of his nose.

When it’s time to roll out the dough and cut out the cookies, Steve grabs a handful of cookie cutters from one of the drawers, setting them onto the counter with a small clang. They’re all holiday themed. Candy canes and snowmen and Christmas trees.

“Someone’s prepared,” you say, bumping your hip against his.

“I run a serious establishment here, baby.”

“I thought I was in charge.”

Soon enough, after sneaking bites of raw cookie dough and cutting out as many cookies as you could manage, they’re placed into the oven, the timer set.

You end up in the living room, a random channel playing on the TV while the cookies bake. It starts innocently enough, just sitting next to each other, shoulders and thighs pressed together.

Then, Steve’s good hand wanders, starting above your knee and moving up and up until he’s squeezing the top of your thigh, tracing patterns with his thumb. When he speaks a husky, “Come closer?” how could you ever say no?

So, somehow, you’ve ended up straddling Steve’s lap, his injured hand resting loosely on your waist, the other pressed in between your shoulder blades to keep you close. Yours are in his hair, running through the strands, tugging even.

It grows heated fast, and all of a sudden you’re making out like a pair of teenagers, Steve urging you to press further down in his lap, to writhe there while his mouth works yours until it’s all you can think about. All you can feel.

The room feels warmer, Steve’s jeans tighter over his lap, your chest bumping against his, hearts racing. Even just kissing him feels better than anything you’ve ever had in the past.

He kisses you like he’s starved everytime, sometimes a ravenous hunger, like now, or, when he’s gentler, something tender and soft. A sweet tooth.

The cookies are long forgotten. The timer sounds and nobody hears it. You would keep going forever, if you could. But then there’s the smell that hits your nostrils. The smell of something burning.

“Steve?” you say against his mouth.

“Uh-huh?” he breathes.

“Do you smell that?”

He pulls back, and it’s immediately after you say the words that the alarm goes off, piercing through the air, killing the mood, much to your dismay. Even more to Steve’s.

“Fuck,” he groans.

You’re both rushing to the kitchen then. You, fumbling off his lap, him beating you to the kitchen and frantically taking the baking sheet out of the oven and turning the thing off. You grab a towel from the counter and start fanning beneath the alarm to get it to go off, and when the cookies are dealt with, Steve joins the efforts.

Eventually the thing stops beeping, and you both rest your arms. The room still looks a little cloudy, the cookies black at the edges.

Steve doesn’t say anything, only rests his elbows on the island and slumps his head, defeated.

He’s so frustrated with himself. Not for kissing you. No, he could never be mad at that, but at the outcome of his final attempt at a holiday date going south again.

You frown at him, walking over and placing a hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles. “Steve? You okay?”

“I just- I messed it up again.”

“Hey, I’m as much to blame as you are. It takes two to tango, as they say.”

He huffs a weak laugh, picking his head up and twisting to look at you. Your pretty face, eyes nothing but kind. Fuck, he loves you, and he just wanted to show you that. To make Christmas as magical as it's supposed to be.

“I really wanted it to go well, you know?”

You realize then that he’s not only talking about today. That he’s been putting this pressure on himself all month to make plans and something has happened every time. You don’t blame him for that, if anything, it makes your heart ache with adoration.

“Steve, it doesn’t matter to me. Things happen, it’s okay,” you kiss his bicep lightly. “I’d rather things go a bit wrong with you than to have them go right with someone else. You are the best part.”

“I-” love you, he almost says. But he doesn’t want the first time to be like this, in a room that still stinks. “You’re the best part for me too, honey.”

You decide that next time, it’s your turn to do something for him.

Steve comes home from work on Christmas Eve, eyes tired and feet hurting despite having worn relatively comfortable shoes today.

He’d tried to get the day off, tried to be able to spend it with you in bed for hours and hours and not getting up until the afternoon. Keith had other plans for him.

He even tried to dramatize his wrist injury. Still, he was forced to go in.

Walking up the driveway, Steve sees the glow of lights inside filtering through the curtains. He’s fairly certain he hadn’t left any on, but he also knows he’s often wrong about these things, so he shrugs it off and goes inside.

There’s noise coming from the living room. Crackling of the fireplace that he barely ever uses, music playing quietly, and then he hears you humming along.

“Honey?”

“Yup, it’s me!”

You know where the spare key is, Steve’s the one who told you the information and encouraged you to use it, but you’ve often been too nervous to do so. Not today, it seems.

While Steve was at work, you’d set up your plan for him.

He follows the sound of your voice without much of a thought, a moth drawn to a flame. When he turns into the living room, he stills.

There are strings of warm white Christmas lights hung about, the fireplace is actually housing a fire, and in front of it is a fort made up of red and green and white blankets and pillows. Some plaid, some with snowflakes, all Christmas themed.

“Did you do all of this?” he asks, walking slowly to where you stand by the fort.

“Figured it was my turn to organize a date, don’t you think?”

“Baby. This is all really sweet, but wha-”

You cut him off, “Uh-uh. Let me explain.” You reach for Steve’s hands, and he meets you in the middle willingly. Suddenly nervous, you shift your weight on your feet. “I thought we could do presents a little early.”

His brows scrunch, “But Christmas is tomorrow.”

“Please?” you ask, squeezing his hands once.

And, really, Steve would never say no to you. Especially not when you’re saying ‘please’ all sweet and delicate like that.

“Okay,” he says. “Yours is in my room. I’ll go grab it. And change; I smell like Family Video.”

“‘Kay, Stevie.”

You kiss his cheek before he goes for good measure.

Steve is confused the entire time, wondering what it could be that you’re up to, but he does as he said he would. You’d been wearing a set of pyjamas (one he loves on you; a soft baby blue pair of shorts with a matching sweater), so he goes for one of his pairs of plaid pants and a plain t shirt before grabbing your messily wrapped gift bag from where he’d hidden it under his bed.

Back in the living room, he finds you now settled on the ground of the fort, which you’d lined with fuzzy blankets and the biggest of the pillows. His gift is sat beside you, a gift box wrapped in a lovely bow. Your skills of wrapping bouquets are transferable, he’s learned.

He joins you, sitting across from you, but close enough that your legs tangle and knees bump.

“You go first,” you tell him.

“Okay,” he scratches the back of his neck, handing you the gift bag. “Let me explain it before you say anything.”

That grabs your attention, but your plans aren’t about his present to you, really, and you know you’ll love it no matter what because Steve knows you better than anyone.

You lift out tissue paper first, uncovering multiple different things inside the bag, also wrapped. It pieces together as you go. A toothbrush, toothpaste, a hairbrush, your entire skincare routine, a couple of pyjama and underwear sets.

“It’s so you don’t have to bring an overnight bag every time you stay over now. I, um, cleared out a couple of drawers in my dresser and the bathroom.”

“Steve,” you look at him, heart squeezing. It’s so thoughtful, so him, and you surge forward you wrap your arms around his neck and breathe into his skin, “I love it. Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Perfect.

“You really think so?”

“Of course I do,” you sit back into your spot. “You know I hate carrying things.”

“I never let you carry anything, honey.”

“Exactly,” you nod. Now, you hold out his gift for him to take, “Your turn.”

You watch Steve’s hands as he tugs the bow undone, then lifts the lid of the box.

Nestled inside are four delicate ornaments. A Christmas tree, a snowman, an ice skate, and a plate of cookies. One for every date he’d planned for you.

Steve frowns at them, not because he doesn’t like them, but because he doesn’t quite understand where you’re going with this.

“I thought it was time we started collecting our own ornaments. For our place, one day,” you tell him.

“They’re lovely, but honey you- you really wanna remember these things?“ he shakes his head, more at himself than you. “I messed ‘em all up.”

“There’s one more thing in there,” you say quietly.

The thing you're nervous about. A thing you’ve never said out loud before.

Steve finds it beneath one of the ornaments, a small piece of paper folded up. When he opens that, his heart stutters in his chest. Written in your handwriting are three words: I love you.

He blinks away from the paper to look at you, though his thumb continues to trace the words absentmindedly. “Honey-”

“I love you, Steve. Okay?” You shift closer, kneeling at his side, your hands coming up to frame his jaw, your fingers kind against his skin. “I don’t care that things didn’t go how you planned. I mean, I would rather you didn’t require an ER visit, but the point is that I don’t need things to be perfect. And I know you’ve been hard on yourself trying to make them so.”

He lets go of the paper and reaches up to grasp your wrists, his thumb finding your racing pulse. His uninjured hand holds on tighter than the other.

“Thank you for trying for me,” you continue, “for caring. But no matter what happens, things are perfect for me. Because I get to do them with you. Got that, Harrington? You’re perfect, and I love you, and-”

He shuts you up with a kiss. It’s a simple but firm press of his lips against yours, but it says enough.

“I fucking love you too, honey,” he says, his forehead against yours, lips only a breath apart. “You saying all of that it means — you mean a lot to me.”

“Yeah, well, I meant it.”

“I know you did,” he nods. Steve pulls back the tiniest bit to be able to see your face fully, his sweet brown eyes locked on yours. “I wanted our first Christmas to be perfect, and I didn’t wanna let you down, but you’re right. They were perfect, because you’re here. And I love you for bein’ here.”

“As long as you’ll have me,” you say. You push his hair off his forehead before letting go of his face and sitting back, “Why don’t you give those ornaments a try?”

“On those trees?” he asks, eyebrows lifted, voice joking.

“Steve.”

”Okay, okay.”

He picks up the skate first. Surprising, considering that one had ended in a physical injury for him, but you say nothing and watch him walk over to your little trees by the window. You join him, sitting on the arm of the couch nearby while he scans over the tree.

“Pick a spot, handsome,” you encourage. “There’s really no wrong answer here.”

He goes to hang the first ornament, hand wavering before setting on a branch.

“Well, maybe not-” Steve tackles you onto the couch before you can finish. You dissolve into giggles as he pokes at your ribs, his head on your chest.

Steve’s done keeping score.

Perfect Christmas. That’s it.

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thank you so much for reading!! if you enjoyed please please consider leaving a comment and/or a reblog and letting me know what you thought! it would mean a bunch of<3

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington blurbs #steve harrington requests #steve harrington request #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve x reader

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rafecameronssl4t · 1 day ago

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Saving Grace || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: When Rafe Cameron’s infamous temper threatens to derail the entire office, his wife is called in as the only person who can bring him back to earth.

Warnings: none!

Word count: 2,051

MASTERLIST

Rafe Cameron could be described in many ways: arrogant, sharp-tongued, perpetually stone-faced, and infamously hot-headed. His temper was a ticking time bomb, always moments away from detonation. It didn’t take much to set him off—a missed detail, an oversight, or even the wrong tone of voice—and once his mood soured, it had a ripple effect on everyone within his orbit.

If Rafe was in a foul mood, the entire office braced itself for the storm, knowing they’d bear the brunt of his frustration. Productivity stalled, morale plummeted, and an oppressive tension hung heavy in the air. No one dared to ask if he was okay or offer to fix the issue—it was simply understood that his temper had to run its course.

But there was one person who had mastered the art of disarming the bomb: his assistant, Rachael. If anyone in the office had something to say about Rachael, it was that she knew Rafe Cameron far too well. She had an uncanny ability to read his moods and an arsenal of strategies for defusing them. Most importantly, she understood the one surefire way to calm Rafe down: his wife.

The woman who he worshipped the ground she walked on, mother to his children, and the only person Rafe Cameron seemed to hold above all else. No matter how irritable or unapproachable he became, the mere mention of her name was enough to shift the atmosphere. So when Rachael watched one of her coworkers stumble out of Rafe’s office, barely holding back tears, she knew it was time to intervene.

Her sharp eyes scanned the room, noting the nervous glances exchanged between staff members who were all too aware of the storm brewing behind Rafe’s closed door. Without missing a beat, Rachael grabbed her phone, dialling a number she had memorised long ago. As the call connected, her tone softened—a stark contrast to the sharp efficiency she displayed in the office.

“Hi, Mrs. Cameron,” she began, her voice carrying a mixture of urgency and familiarity. “I hate to bother you, but it’s one of those days. If you’re free, I think a quick word with Rafe might do the trick.” She paused, listening intently before smiling to herself. Rachael didn’t need to explain much; Mrs. Cameron always seemed to know exactly how to handle her husband.

And while the office might dread Rafe’s infamous outbursts, Rachael found comfort in knowing there was someone who could bring the man back down to earth. She let out a small sigh of relief when she heard your calm, reassuring voice on the other end of the line. “I’ll be right there,” you said, your tone steady but with a hint of warmth that was reserved for conversations about your husband.

Without hesitation, you grabbed your car keys, slipping on a pair of heels as you prepared to leave. It wasn’t the first time you’d been called in to play peacemaker, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. Rafe’s temper was legendary, but you knew how to navigate it better than anyone else. You’d seen him at his worst, the raw edges of his frustration and anger, but you also knew the softer side of him—the part that melted when you walked into a room, the man who looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

As you slid into the driver’s seat, your thoughts briefly flickered to your children, safely at home with the nanny. You didn’t want to leave them, but you also understood that Rafe needed you. He might not admit it outright, especially not in front of his staff, but the subtle ways he sought you out after a rough day spoke volumes.

As you walked toward your husband’s office, the energy in the space shifted noticeably. Heads turned, relief washing over faces that had been tense just moments before. Hushed whispers followed in your wake, employees murmuring their gratitude for the one person who could tame the storm that was Rafe Cameron. Even without uttering a word, your presence commanded respect—graceful yet undeniably authoritative.

“You have no idea how happy I am to see you, Mrs. Cameron,” Rachael said as she stood from her desk, her tone filled with a mixture of hope and exhaustion. “He’s in his office, and he’s miserable in there.” You glanced through the glass wall into Rafe’s office. Rachael hadn’t exaggerated—his frustration was palpable. The furrow of his brow, the tight set of his jaw, and the restless movements of his hands screamed of a man on the verge of losing his patience entirely.

You offered Rachael a small, reassuring smile before making your way to the door, your heels clicking softly against the polished floor. You didn’t bother knocking—Rafe hated formalities when it came to you. The heavy sigh he let out at the sound of the door opening was immediate. His eyes remained locked on the papers scattered across his desk, his tone sharp and cold.

“I thought I said I didn’t want to be disturbed.” A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you stepped inside. “Does that include me?” you asked, your voice sweet and smooth, cutting through the tension. Rafe’s head snapped up at the sound of your voice, his piercing blue eyes meeting yours. Instantly, his rigid posture softened, and the weight on his shoulders seemed to lift.

The frustration etched into his features melted away, replaced by a look that could only be described as unguarded affection. Just your presence had the power to undo him. Without a word, Rafe reached behind his desk and flicked a switch, causing the glass walls of his office to turn frosted, granting the two of you privacy. His voice softened, tinged with genuine curiosity and concern.

“What are you doing here, baby?" You walked around his desk, your movements fluid and deliberate, and Rafe turned in his chair to face you fully. Standing in front of him, you saw the shift in his expression—the hard edges of his day crumbling as he looked up at you. And there it was, the look that never failed to steal your breath.

No matter how difficult or frustrating his day had been, Rafe always looked at you like you were his entire world, as though you hung the moon and stars just for him. In his eyes, there was nothing but pure, unfiltered love—a stark contrast to the icy exterior he showed everyone else. You leaned down, your fingers brushing lightly against his jaw as you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

His shoulders visibly relaxed at the familiar touch, the tension from his day dissolving. “You’re scaring your employees,” you teased softly, your words accompanied by a light chuckle as you straightened up. Rafe let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back in his chair and rolling his eyes. “They’re ridiculous,” he muttered, his tone laced with both irritation and amusement.

“They’re terrified,” you corrected, folding your arms and raising a brow at him. “I saw one of them practically in tears.” Rafe groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not my fault they can’t handle a little pressure.” You gave him a knowing look, stepping closer and resting your hands on the armrests of his chair, effectively boxing him in. “Rafe, you can be a little… intense,” you said gently, your eyes locking with his. “And by ‘a little,’ I mean a lot.”

His lips quirked into a smirk, his hands instinctively finding your waist. “You don’t seem scared of me,” he said, his voice dropping into a softer, almost teasing tone. “That’s because I know the real you,” you replied, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “The one who spoils me, reads bedtime stories to the kids, and eats all the burnt pancakes I make without complaining.”

He let out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling from his chest. “You know I love those burnt pancakes,” he murmured, tugging you closer until you were practically sitting on his lap. “Hmm,” you hummed playfully, trailing your fingers along the lapel of his blazer. “Maybe I should remind your staff that under all that brooding, you’re just a big softie.”

“Don’t you dare,” he warned, though his smirk betrayed the emptiness of his threat. You laughed softly, pressing another kiss to his lips before pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. “Then maybe try to be a little nicer? For me?” He sighed, feigning reluctance, but the way his hands tightened on your waist betrayed his surrender. “Fine,” he said, his tone mockingly begrudging. “But only because you asked so nicely.”

“That’s all I needed to hear,” you said with a satisfied smile, brushing your thumb against his cheek. “Now, why don’t you take a break? Let me help you relax before you scare anyone else.” Rafe’s smirk softened into a genuine smile, the love in his eyes shining brighter than ever. “You really are my saving grace,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.

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scrumdidiliyumyum · 2 days ago

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Something special |||

Yan!Batfam x Neglected!Reader

Prologue - > Part 1 - > Part 2 - > Part 3

How could he have known that you were with your friends?

You sat there for a while, in the cold car with the sudden realization that that man you had quite literally just met knew something he shouldn't have. Were you overthinking it? Were you just to tired to really comprehend the actual situation, your mind instantly going to something more darker and blaming an innocent man?

Maybe you were paranoid, just maybe. He was a vigilante for goodness sakes. He helps people, saves them. He most likely just assumed that you were out and about, hanging out with buds. There wasn't any need to jump to such big conclusions- to make an innocent man the target of your paranoia.

As you sat there, you tried your best to control your breathing, feeling it go out of control every time the thought of him knowing more than he should've creeped back into your mind. Maybe you really were just going crazy for all you knew.

Your hand shakily reached up to the ignition with the key to start the far, you couldn't think about this right now. Not in the middle of who knows where, alone, in a car. You tried, keyword tried, to push it away, to shoo away the bad thoughts until you were in a safer environment to be allowed to do so.

You drove back to the manor, trying to keep your mind in a happy place. Thinking of things to distract yourself, not noticing the skillfully hidden figure watching your vehicle make its way onto the street.

You slowly made your way towards the manor doors, not wanting to go in. God, why didn't you ask to stay over at a friend's house? If anytime was good, now would be, when your head was working against you and you could've used a friend to help you with it all.

Ah.

Your mind went back to a few certain people as you thought that. As much as you would've loved to, staying at a friend's house when some people were, "keeping an eye out on you," Suddenly disappearing probably wouldn't be the smartest move on your part.

You let out a sigh as you slowly opened the doors, looking around for a minute before making the hike up the stairs and back to your room. You kept looking around, at all the little places you memorized from walking through these halls for years. Something you were hoping would change very soon.

You jumped out of your trance as you felt a hand tap on your shoulder, whipping around and coming face to face with Duke who still had a worried look on his face. You opened your mouth to speak, but closed it as he beat you to it.

"Are you alright? I was worried when you disappeared all of a sudden." You held back to urge to roll your eyes, "yeah I'm fine don't worry. Really, there's no reason to be worried." You stood there awkwardly for a second before slowly turning to make your way back to your room.

Duke suddenly put that to a halt as he said, "hey, you shouldn't stress yourself out so much. I know you wanna work hard, but maybe try to relax, yeah?" You looked back at him, trying to think of what to say.

You would've been mad if it was anyone else, should've been mad nonetheless, but you never really knew Duke. He was always nice, and you both were older, teens when you both had first met. Despite everything, he still treated you the kindest.

So you sighed, before fully turning to face him. You softly smiled at him before saying, "thanks Duke, I'll keep that in mind." You patted his arm before walking back to your room trying to ignore the face he made, just wanting to sleep and prepare yourself for whatever tomorrow intailed.

Man you wished that you were old enough to drink.

You adjusted your uniform, tidying up as best as you could. You were a tad bit nervous, more than usual as today was the day you decided to quit a club. You had to step out of your comfort zone, and maybe it wasn't a big deal to some, but for you it was a really big deal.

All the times you had walked through those halls, hoping for something more from the very people that lived there, it hurt more than everything. And it still didnt hurt any less, but you were gonna make it okay, because you did have people to rely on, people who would be there, who would gladly hang up your photos and take time out of their day to be with you.

You wanted more then everything to start doing stuff you liked, be with people you liked, so that's exactly what you were going to do.

You gathered up the rest of your stray items and set them into your bag. Nervous yes, but overall thrilled to be doing this, patting your self before making your way towards your door to get to school.

You looked at a picture from one of the many photo booths you had run into the night before, hung up on your wall of you, Aryan and Ethan, all smiling, happy and making weird faces.

For the first time in awhile going to school didn't seem to hard.

"I'm sorry, I'm what?"

Your debate teachers face scrunched up slightly as he started to explain, "well, you're out, that's it." He paused before continuing, "technically, isn't that what you wanted? So I don't see the problem." You felt nothing but absolute confusion as he said that, slowly processing his words.

You did amazing, was, were, one of the best debaters, you were always helpful, willing to offer a helping hand to those that needed one, inside and outside the class. So what was the problem? Why were you suddenly cut off the team?

Him sighing and gesturing for you to lean in brought back your attention, "look, kid, to be honest, your amazing. But, this other kid, don't really know his name, started with a D? I don't know, but he waltzed in here, saying how he wanted you off the team, and started going on about you and stuff, something like that."

He scratched his head, "usually, I would just shoo people like that off, but he had a signed paper and everything!" He waved his arms around to emphasize the paper, "look, I'm sorry kid, I figured you knew about it since... well, y'know."

You could feel a huge headache coming on, desperately needing a pill. You paused your thoughts as you took what he said to mind. You stumbled on your words, "I- I'm sorry, Damien?" He nodded his head, getting a grim look on his face, "don't get me wrong, I've dealt with some freaky kids, but that one was definitely pretty freakish."

You were about to make your way into another rant, when you decided to leave it as it is. As much as you wanted to fight him on it, you know it wasn't his fault. You took a breath and forced yourself to calm down and smiled at him politely before taking your stuff and storming off, making turns through the halls towards your car.

You were going to talk to him, yell, whatever. Yes, you were going to quit the club, or a club, but just because didn't mean he had the right to butt in. It was your choice to make, one that seemed to be a good one, one that make you excited until you got there only to find out Damien had gotten you kicked out in the first place.

You and Damien never had a close relationship, always having some sort of rift between the two of you no matter what you did to try and repair it. And for once, for once, you decided you were gonna move on, live your own life, and he decides he doesn't want that?

No.

You weren't gonna just let him decide this. This was for you to decide, and you weren't gonna let him make something that should've been a new chapter into something else as he had done one too many times. You really didn't want that to happen right now, especially when this particular thing was supposed to be a turning point for you.

Maybe you were being dramatic, but in all honesty you couldn't care less. Sure, maybe at the base of it all, what you were really mad at was not just this, but all the other times he was ruined things for you, turning stuff that made you happy into stuff that made you cry and sick everytime it entered your sight, the fact that you were always to weak to put a stop to it.

You just hoped that you would be strong enough to tell him this time.

You slowly made your way towards Damien, having searched for him for a good while. You were filled with anger earlier, but it slowly faded away and out of your body once you noticed Dick standing by him.

You didn't know how to confront him with Dick by your side, at most he wouldn't care, right? You hoped with every fiber in your body that they would push whatever you decided on saying to the deep depths of their minds. As you neared them, the moment they took notice of you, you almost had to double back and go throw up from how nervous you were.

But, you held your ground and continued walking until you were infront of them, trying to hide how harshly you were breathing and the mini panic attack you were having on the inside. "Damien, can I talk to you, somewhere private?" You said with as much confidence you could muster. He stared for a moment before responding, "why? We can talk right here."

The small bite in his tone reminded you exactly why you were in this situation in the first place. Taking a deep breath, "fine. Damien, why did you get me kicked out of my club? It's my club, and you shouldn't have to go behind my back to talk to my teacher." You waited, trying your best to ignore Dick just staring at you.

He rubbed his eyes, sighing, before giving you a fierce look, "look, whether you like it or not, you're my sister. What you do directly effects me and father. And I'd rather not have to deal with you passing out in public, with everyone as a witness."

You scoffed at what he said, " your sister? Well whether you like it or not, it's not for you to decide! What I decide to do with my life outside- actually, inside this manor as well, had absolutely nothing to do with you, or anyone else that lives here."

You breathed harshly out of your nose, trying to keep a cool head but failing miserably. You took in a deep breath before starting another rant, " and y'know what Damien? I passed out once why does everyone think I'm suddenly this super fragile person?" -You barely noticed the way he winced from the pure venom of which you spat his name- "I honestly hate-"

Suddenly Dick covered your mouth, pausing after doing so as if not even meaning to. His eyes jolted around for a bit before settling on whispering, "please don't say stuff like that, okay?" You stared at him, pushing his hand off your mouth. "Say what? That I hate your guts? Is that what the problem is?"

He almost looked surprised at the hatred in your voice, before letting out a sigh, "look, I'm sorry okay? You're probably tired, and just need to go lay down-"

You laughed incredulously, absolutely shocked at his words. Had he even been listening? You decided that you had had enough of his- no, enough of their bullshit. It wasn't your job to cater to their every whim.

You decided then and there to just leave. You rubbed hard at your face, as if to try and rid of the tension and unadulterated anger coursing through your body. Was this whole family crazy? You honestly couldn't care less, you were tired, hungry, and just wanted to be somewhere safe.

You suddenly looked at the two annoyed, "I'm gonna stay at a friend's house tonight. Bye!" Quickly turning around, you started to make your way back down where you had come from. You pushed anything they had said out of your head as you tried to mentally retrace your footsteps back.

Because you had already spaced out, you hadn't noticed Dick speading towards you, completely blocking your path. You jumped at him suddenly invading your view, giving him a questioning look. He looked back at Damien a few times before muttering a quick, 'I'm sorry' and snatching your phone out of your hand.

You looked at him incredulously, at this point really wondering if it was all a dream. Dick stood there, trying to convince you to go to your room. "Look, I'm sorry, can you please go back for now? I promise I'll give it back later I just-" He paused as he looked back at Damien, the both of them having a silent conversation.

Suddenly Damien sighed and spoke up, "go away, I need to talk to Dick." You could feel his stare bore into the back of your head. You scoffed and just left, figuring it wasn't worth the fight. Although you wanted to try and grab it, you tried to soothe yourself with the fact that you still had your computer to contact someone- anyone.

Running Walking away, you could faintly hear Damien start to talk to Dick, 'I thought we told you already-' but you quickly pushed it out of your head. All you could think of at the moment was how pissed you were with those two, what was their problem??

Frankly, any other day you wouldn't have left. It was your phone, and they couldn't just suddenly decide to team up and take it away. But, you didn't care anymore, you were done with having nothing to deal with, then now having to deal with everything.

You tried to soothe yourself with the fact that this time tomorrow you would be out of here.

You walked into your room and slammed the door, sliding down against it trying your best to calm down. For all you knew they could've broken it. You mentally beat yourself up for not just snatching the phone back. The thought of that made you remember something as you sprung up, making your way towards your desk.

Pulling multiple draws open before your eyes finally landed on what you were looking for, you quickly grabbed it out, pushing along the few trinkets that resided on top.

Your laptop.

You needed to message someone, maybe Aryan? Would she even answer? Or maybe Ethan, he might-

You paused before quickly turning back towards the desk, once again looking through the drawer that held your laptop. You looked through it multiple times, taking everything out before moving towards other drawers.

After moving everything out, looking once again through the mountain of items that sat om your floor, even going as far as any other desks, drawers, hell, your backpack. Yet no matter where you looked, you couldn't find it. Did someone steal it? Did Aryan- or no, even Miss Honey take it?

Where the hell was your camera?

The dim room was faintly lit up by the big computer screen, shining onto nearby objects and the young man who sat at the desk it resided on. He watched the video, taking in every detail of it. The small giggles that got let out every now and then, the way you threw flour at the other girl in the video, laughing and smiling brightly.

Tim looked over the video, and the many others that were on the sim card over and over again. It was so weird- he never really cared about you, still didn't really. Then what was that aching tug in his heart? but nonetheless, seeing you there, no longer the small kid that he could always sense trailing somewhere behind him, it was weird.

He remembers the first time he met you, you coming up to him with a smile, bandages on your knee, hair wild. It was amusing seeing someone so full of life and color in such a desolate and dark manor. With how sleep deprived he was, he genuinely thought for a second that he went to the wrong manor.

But you weren't little, you weren't the same joy filled kid that he ran into so few times. You were older, and because he didn't know you it was easier to just place you as a faceless nobody.

Well, until you were brought to his attention.

It was like a parasite, the way he slowly heard more and more people talking about you, worrying about you. It honestly didn't make sense. You really weren't special, you had a few quirks here and there, but that was about it. What was so different?

After he ransacked your room, looking through drawers and settling on stealing a camera, he connected it to his computer and looked through the contents. There was a mountain of pictures, ranging from sunsets, to photos with friends, to even the beautiful shimmering ocean.(when did you visit the ocean?)

As much as he hated to admit it, he understood where the rest were coming from. The fact that you hadn't ever touched the dark vigilante life- never having the get your hands dirty from another person's blood, it made you so much different than them.

You were human, something to be treasured, to be kept safe and sound. He couldn't help but think of how different you seemed as of late. In the few times he saw you, he saw a quiet wallflower. But now? Seeing you so of life almost made him... admire you in a way.

The humanity you had, having the ability to be happy and share your love with those around you so freely. He could tell from each picture and video he looked at, the way you talked, looked, it made it so clear that you were someone overflowing with love.

And he longed for you to share it with him as well.

Hey guys...long time no see....

(*´Д`)

I wanted to drop this chapter for christmasss!!! Sorry it isn't Christmas themed though (-。-;) Can you guys tell how readers slowly starting to get more pissed off?? I'm VERY excited to not write a breakdown wink wink Anywaysss I've said this a million times but MERRY CHRISTMAS Or HAPPY HOLIDAYS if you dont celebrate SENDING HUGS AND KISSES TAGLIST : @wizzerreblogs, @darktrashpoetry, @daddyissuesehe, @chericia, @iluvcatzz, @fightmebissh, @fionnalopez-blog, @otterluver05, @kitkatkitmeow, @caged-birdies-blog, @ocean-mochi, @tatsuri-zomushiki, @nickey-diano, @nickey-diano, @cloudserenity, @seleneprince, @degenerates-posts, @definitely-not-sammie, @pix-stuff, @nervousalpacalady, @mys0cksrwet, @kore-of-the-underworld, @lilyalone, @alliwantisadonut, @shadowytravlerlover, @dreamsarenicer, @dhanyasri, @blackbirdsblackberries Thank you for the support 💓 I'm going to bed now (´Д` )

#yandere batfam #yandere batfamily #reader insert #nom nom nom #yandere batfam x reader #platonic batfam #batfam #x reader #platonic yandere

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tbaluver · 19 hours ago

Text

"Where Do Babies Come From?" - The Love And DeepSpace Men

pairings in order: xavier x reader, zayne x reader, rafayel x reader, sylus x reader genre: fluff fluff + silly + scenario summary: your child(ren) ask you and your lover where babies come from requested: anonnie ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა a/n: hihi lovelies ! (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)♡ posting this before the livestream that's in a couple hours ! i hope you all enjoy reading and i hope to have a couple more posts out this week ! (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

“Papa, where do babies come frwom?” The question was simple yet it struck him like a lightning bolt. His son’s innocent eyes stared up at him, waiting for an answer but he was left frozen at his spot, his mind completely blank. How could he possibly explain this? He was never prepared for this question, it was never in the parenting books he’s read when you were pregnant.

In your shared bedroom, you sat on the bed, scrolling through your phone when Xavier and your son walked in, hand in hand. Xavier held a small notebook in the other but your son darting towards you with open arms distracts you. “Mommy!” He squeals as you scoop him up and plant a sweet kiss at the top of his head.

“Mommy, me and daddy want to know where babies come from!” You blink, glancing at Xavier who sits at the edge of the bed, nodding along to his son as he opens up the notebook, ready to take notes

“You and daddy?” You ask, darting your gaze at your son and back to Xavier. “Well..when mommy and daddy love each other very much..” You trail off, choosing your words carefully. You wanted to keep it as innocent and simple as possible and it seems that your son believed you as he nodded along.

When your son ran off the play, you sighed in relief, glad to know that the topic didn’t go any more awkward than that. “So Xavier...why did you need to know?” You quirk a brow at him, as if he wasn’t also the reason you both have a son who you both love very much.

“So next time, when we have another child I’ll know what to say.”

Zayne:

Small footsteps padded across the floor making their way towards Zayne’s home office. He sat at his desk, reviewing the slides for his upcoming conference, absorbing all the details. Zayne usually lets her play around in his office if she wants to, but if there is anything bothering her, he can always ask her.

“Daddy?” She peeks at the side of his desk, stretching up on her tippy toes so she can see him. Zayne’s attention shifts, the sound of his office chair turning so she knows his focus was fully on her. He reached out, scooping her up and settled her comfortably in his lap.

“What’s wrong dear?” He asks softly.

She tilts her, “Since you’re a doctor where do babies come from?” The question caught him off guard for a moment but it quickly softened into a smile. It’s impossible for him not to find her adorable to be so curious at this age. It reminded him of his own childhood where he would always ask his parents questions.

He clears his throat, “They come from their mother’s stomach.” A simple answer his own mother had given him when he was around her age. It was enough for him even if he hadn’t fully understood it at the time.

Her brow furrowed slightly as she processed the information, her finger tapping her lip as she thought. “But..how did the baby get there?”

Zayne chuckles softly, his heart melting at the sight of her little mind trying to piece things together. Gently, he pinches her cheek. “I promise I’ll explain it to you when you’re older, alright ?After I’m finished with this, we can go play”” He kisses the top of her head before setting her down, hoping she’ll forget about it for now.

Rafayel:

Small feets padded their way toward their father who sat at the couch, balancing a pencil between the bridge of his nose as he concentrated on a sketch. The moment he heard their playful shrieks come closer to him, his attention shifts as he sets the sketchbook down. With arms opened wide, the children dove into his embrace, their tiny bodies crashing into him playfully.

“Daddy daddy!” One of your sons bounce up and down in excitement, his voice bubbling with curiosity.

He chuckles softly, pulling them away. “Yes my little glub glubs?” He asks as all the children snuggle closer to him. They exchange glances, deciding on who would speak first. Rafayel raises a brow, a smile tugging at his lips as he watches his children in curiosity

“Where do babies come from?” One of them suddenly asks, the other two nodded in unison, their eyes wide as they wait for their lemurian father to speak. He froze in his spot, leaving him momentarily speechless.

“Oh!” He stammered, scratching the back of his hair, smiling sheepishly. “How about you ask mommy? Y'know she’s very experienced with that.” Yes, yes he’s a genius. He dodged the question for now.

“Mommy told us to ask you!”

“Yeah! Yeah!” Another chimes in.

“She said you’re the reason we’re here!” They nodded eagerly, waiting for him to provide an answer.

“Does that make you our mommy then daddy?” The youngest asks, innocence in their eyes as well as confusion. However, the question hit him like a brick, leaving him frozen in his spot again. They completely misunderstood what you said and now his children are looking at him as if he was a male seahorse.

He blinks, “No, no I’m still daddy,” He clarifies, chuckling nervously. “What mommy means is...when me and her kiss.. in the sea, we make a seagull come and deliver you to us one by one! It’s a realllyyyy long process.”

You’re definitely going to pay him back after this.

Sylus:

You and Sylus were nestled in the living room couch, your hand resting gently on your baby bump. While you watched a show/ movie, Sylus sat beside you, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose as he flipped through pages. Your little girl sat at the coffee table, creating little scenarios in her world of dolls and toys, the tiny figurines making soft clicking noises as she moved them across the table.

With a curious expression, she picked up the two dolls in each hand, one she often associated them as ‘Mommy’ and ‘Daddy’, studying both of them. Her crimson eyes flicked between the two figures and then over to their small family of children she had arranged in the playset. Her gaze shifts to your grown belly, curiosity of hers growing.

“Mommy, Daddy?” she asks, her cute little voice gaining both of your attention. She walks over to you both, her white hair tied up slightly bouncing with each step.

“What is it sweetie?” Sylus asks, lowering the papers, his crimson eyes meeting hers. She hesitates for a moment, still holding the dolls before shifting her gaze back between you both.

“Where do babies come from?” She asks innocently. The question hung in the air for a moment, catching you both off guard. It wasn’t just the question itself, but it just felt so sudden. Sylus knew that this would eventually come but he didn’t expect it to be quite so soon. Maybe he shouldn’t have bought her a room full of dolls.

“Well sweetie they come from your mother’s v-”

“AHEM.”

Looks like you’ll handle this for now and Sylus gets to sit this one out

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beloveds-embrace · 1 day ago

Note

Dukedom au but instead of the men noticing reader post marriage, they already notice her pre marriage like maybe before they went to war and meet each other. She use to be so radiant especially on her debut to society. She dances John and Simon and they were entranced since then. Maybe she likes sneaking out bro mingle with the commons and met Johnny and Kyle that way. Then war happened and many other things by the time they were back they’re not exactly expecting their dream girl to be unmarried, she’s so beautiful why would she be unmarried, besides they have each other now.

Imagine their surprise when they found out not only is she unmarried but rather unpopular in society for one or two petty reasons too.

ANONNNNN I LOVE YOUR MIND

It wasn’t until after his return from the military- when he finally came home with Simon by his side, Kyle and Johnny already settled into their places in his household- that John actually heard the full extent of the rumors surrounding you.

You were barren, they said. Damaged. A woman past her prime who had rejected too many suitors out of pride and was now paying the price. Not docile enough to be a good wife, too much of a spitfire. Hysterical, the last time you had snapped at a man who had gotten a little too close to you. A stain on your family’s lineage, who were trying desperately to marry you off.

Kyle had been the first to bring it up, muttering about what he’d overheard at the bakery one morning while helping Johnny’s parents prepare for the day. Johnny, normally so cheerful, had been uncharacteristically quiet about the whole thing- quiet in that dangerous, simmering way that meant he was ready to fight anyone who so much as looked at you wrong.

And Simon?

Simon had just looked at John.

“Fix it.” he’d said, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

But it wasn’t simple.

Not when the love John felt for you had been complicated from the start. Not when Kyle and Johnny and Simon already occupied so much of his heart, and the idea of forcing you to share that space- even with men who adored you already- felt like asking too much.

So he waited, and waited.

He waited until he saw you again, looking so perfectly soft and sweet and untouched by the harshness of the world around you, even despite all the hate-filled rumors aimed your way, it nearly broke him. He waited until Kyle started dropping more and more excuses to see you, until Johnny began dragging you into their outings, until even Simon- gruff, stoic Simon- began pausing to ask how you were doing when he saw you in passing.

He waited until he couldn’t not ask.

And when he finally did- when he knelt before you and offered you everything he had, everything he was, everything they were because he would keep anything a secret from you- you didn’t answer right away.

“John…” You were at a loss for words, eyes shifting to a fro. You could hear your parents practically yelling at you to just accept, no matter what, within your mind.

Your cheeks turned warmer than a furnace, and you lowered your head, gritting your teeth. “Surely you all know that- that I’m not… exactly the best candidate for you.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

Your eyes widened, mouth falling open, and he wanted to kiss that expression off your face. Replace it with something happier, brighter.

“It doesn’t matter.” John repeated, voice soft and so painfully fond. “They can say all they want. It’s you who I care about- we care about. Nobody else matters. Nothing else matters, except for your happiness and what you want. So I ask again… will you be my Duchess?”

You bit your lips, ignoring the tiny little voice of your nanny scolding you for your terrible nervous habit. You wanted to accept. You ached to accept.

“Promise me, John,” you breathed out. And he listened, more than anyone else ever has. “Promise me. I won’t ever be a simple accessory on your arm, or a forgotten relic in your home. I won’t be brushed aside, while everyone around me is loved. Please, John. If you can promise me that, then I accept.”

And for John?

It didn’t even take him a second before agreed; already, he could imagine the relief that the others would have, as well.

He could also imagine you, blooming in their home.

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prael · 23 hours ago

Text

Day 3: Reciprocation

Itzy Yeji x male reader smut

words: 6,714 12 Days of Praelmas Masterlist

If there's one thing you've learned dealing with the rich, the famous and the devious, it's that there's always a deal to be made.

"Not often that I see a girl like you in a place like this."

"Well, you're an incredibly difficult man to track down."

It's the girl who's supposed to be on the main page of your site starting tomorrow morning. You gesture for Yeji to sit by your side, and while there are more than enough empty seats around you, she prefers to stand. What is this, a fucking power move?

"Well, you could have just called my office and made yourself an appointment."

It doesn't amuse her. She simply brings her hands up to rest on her hips as she looks at you.

"Look, let's get to the point. You can't post the article." There is something rather endearing in watching how she talks to you. Her hips are cocked and her face bears a look of determination, but she lacks confidence. You're not sure she even believes herself. Maybe she's just hoping that you'll cave.

You meet her eyes and hold her gaze for a few moments, searching for a crack in her armour. It's hard to say for certain when the only lighting in this club is what little neon they have on display, but there seems to be something else hiding behind her stare. A nervous energy, perhaps. So, you correct her, "I can post the article."

"Look— I, I have money." She takes a single stride towards you, with her long slender legs of which only part of her thigh is covered by the bottom of her dress. That thing clings to them like it does every other inch of her body. One hell of a figure.

"I'm well aware."

"Okay then, how much money will it take for you to drop the article?"

"Money doesn't compare to an article like this one—you know that. Come on," you lean forward a bit. "You should be smarter than that."

"How much?!" Yeji says again. There's an edge to her voice now and a stern look in her eyes. She must feel that you're not taking her seriously—honestly, you aren't. You can't count the number of times an agency has tried to block an article by simply throwing money your way. The novelty has worn off.

"Listen, Miss Hwang, I appreciate the effort you have gone through to manufacture a meeting with me, however, just like I told your PR team, I'm not for sale. Should you want to avoid this sort of thing, then I'd recommend being a little more discreet the next time you want to fuck around." You glance at the door leading out. The exit sign above is blinking erratically, but it serves its intended purpose nonetheless. "I'll see you in tomorrow morning's news."

"No."

"No?" You raise an eyebrow. She may be a star and she may make people go crazy in more ways than one, but if you've learned something about yourself over the years, it's that you aren't as easily swayed by beauty alone, nor impressed by fame.

Yeji remains silent, her eyes looking down to the table in front of you and your mind instantly starts conjuring up scenarios where the girl goes into a screaming fit or starts throwing a tantrum until security drags her sorry ass out the door.

Her head snaps up again. "Fine." Yeji turns sideways and steps around the small table. It becomes apparent that she plans on sitting by your side, after all. She isn't exactly looking at you as she plops herself onto the cushioned bench. "You said 'next time', right?" She begins quietly.

In spite of yourself, a smile appears on your face when you see the wheels turn inside of Yeji's head. "I don't think I understand."

"Yes, you do," Yeji replies dryly. And with the certainty now back in her voice, it appears you've misjudged her.

When you remain silent for a few moments, Yeji eventually gives in and takes a quick, inconspicuous breath before looking up again. Her face is but inches from your own. "Have sex with me tonight."

It takes effort not to burst into laughter in response to such an absurd offer, and as a result, the amusement is probably pretty damn clear in the tone of your reply. "You're cute."

"I'm serious."

You look the girl in the eyes once more, leaning backwards. "You know how much trouble you could get into for trying something like this, right?"

Yeji's jaw clenches momentarily. "Yeah."

You gaze down along her body again. The skin on her thighs seems smooth and silky; definitely worth a closer inspection, and you would be lying if you said the knowledge of her dirty hook-ups didn't have your mind wondering about all the ways she might be willing to work her body in an attempt to sway you. You wonder if she likes it rough; likes having someone grab hold of those black locks of hers and yank her head back. Likes having a cock slammed down her throat. Your thoughts quickly go into a tailspin which has you imagining Yeji crawling towards you dressed up in nothing but skimpy lingerie, a hungry smile plastered across her face and a yearning desire to find out what sort of mess you could turn her into.

"So," you begin quietly. "I don't release an article about the K-pop star who keeps sneaking out into hotels to get herself fucked—and in exchange, I get to sleep with the K-pop star who keeps sneaking out into hotels to get herself fucked. Do I have that right?"

You see the embarrassment cross Yeji's features briefly, yet she still manages to bite out her reply with certainty: "Yes."

For some reason, even though she's been found out and forced into making such an absurd deal, she refuses to lower her gaze away from yours, almost daring you to judge her. You've seen her music videos online—goddamnit, everyone has—and she's sexy as hell. No one would deny that, and she looks stunning in that black dress of hers. It really compliments her figure. Legs go on for days, a toned physique and looking down the front of her dress as she leans into you, a pretty little pair of tits hidden somewhere in there as well.

"I've been propositioned before, you know, but usually that's to get their face on the front page, not off it." You cock your head at her. "How badly do you want this dropped, anyway?"

"What are you trying to say?"

You lean back slowly, deliberately, resting your shoulders against the seat as you feel Yeji's eyes study your every move. Despite the terrible lighting, you can tell she's biting her lip nervously. She's so close that the scent coming off her fills the air around you. It's a pleasant smell. One you wouldn't mind having all over your bed.

"I'll be blunt." Your eyes fall to her chest and you take note of how Yeji squirms under your stare. A tiny smile appears on your lips. "I'd love to fuck you. Hell, anyone in their right mind would love to fuck you. You're a very attractive girl, after all." You nod in her direction. "So, that part will happen if I agree to this deal of yours, however, there's one thing you haven't accounted for."

Yeji meets your stare. Her voice is low, yet resolute. "Which is?"

"You have no idea of whether or not I'm actually going to uphold my end of the bargain."

She pauses in silence and then moves her hand across the table, scooping up your drink and raising it to her full lips. As she knocks back the remainder, the way her slender neck stretches makes you wish you could wrap your hands around it.

The glass hits the table and Yeji licks her lips softly. The sight has you licking your own and for just a second, the both of you simply gaze at each other in silence, almost sizing each other up. Yeji finally shifts closer to you until she's right by your side. Her breasts press up against your shoulder and you feel her warmth on your arm.

One of her delicate hands lands gently in your lap and slides upwards onto your thigh where she starts to draw small circles with her fingertips. You wonder if she notices the slight hitch in your breath as she touches you. "We can go to your office. Sign a document. Legally binding. Non-disclosure. And agree to write a favourable piece about me. You can send out the request to your best columnist there and then. And then you can take me right there." Her words come out in soft whispers and her eyes dart over your face, trying to read your reaction.

Yeji is young and beautiful and she's clearly horny enough to get herself into this kind of mess. It doesn't come as too much of a surprise to you, then, when you feel a delicate fingertip trace over your crotch. "Take you?"

"On your desk. Over your desk," she elaborates shamelessly and with a hint of cheek in her voice. There's a smug expression on her face. She's enjoying herself but also relieved to be getting through to you. "However you want me."

"So, it's an exchange? A dirty deal done in the darkness?"

Yeji smirks. "I prefer to call it reciprocation."

Friday night in the office and it still has the passive hum of life, though not much of it. Cutting through the air is the loud clack of Yeji's high heels as she follows you silently past empty room after empty room. The interns putting in the long hours are all on the lower floors, giving you just enough discretion.

You glance back briefly at her before rounding the corner. Just like you had imagined, she seems rather timid now. Head held slightly down and glancing around the place, almost like she's embarrassed to be here with you.

Finally, you reach your private office near the far wall of the floor and wave Yeji inside. As you step up to your desk and turn, Yeji closes the door behind herself and watches you intently. The soft light in here gives you a much better opportunity to appreciate her.

"Come." You gesture her over while simultaneously logging into your PC.

It only takes a few simple clicks to bring up a basic confidentiality agreement which you proceed to edit. "As requested," you begin. "This agreement prohibits me from writing anything related to your numerous encounters with nameless men and women in various hotels throughout Seoul. Failure to abide by these terms enables you to take legal action against me and my firm to any extent deemed necessary."

She places her palms on the desk as you turn the monitor to show her. She reads it. You read here. Leaning forward has the front of her dress hang open a bit further. It's the first glance you get of her red bra underneath and the swell of her chest, just big enough for handfuls. She sees your wandering eyes, yet continues to scan the terms of the contract. It makes you curious if the idea of being looked at like some cheap slut turns her on. Maybe you should try referring to her as such. Would she object? Or encourage?

Yeji nods in approval and you click 'print'. She looks past you, watching it emerge from the machine.

"That's all we need," you say, never looking away from her. There's something mesmerising about her eyes. They're large, they're dark and they tend to draw you in. "Now I can't expose your whorish tendencies."

She looks offended momentarily. "Whorish?"

"Two months. Forty-two hotel visits were recorded. Thirty-five different partners." The chair rolls away as you push it back and stand up, towering over her frame. "Yes, you're fucking whorish, Yeji. Our research was thorough."

"I'm just having fun." She stops leaning on the desk. You both take a step in unison, beginning to round the desk while staring each other down. The moment feels tense. "There's nothing wrong with that."

"Oh, I agree completely."

Another step. Another inch towards each other.

"There's no shame in being a bit of a slut. An incredibly beautiful slut."

A third.

You're face to face. Those heels make her almost as tall as you, and you glance at Yeji's lips as the tip of her tongue suddenly darts out over them. The only sound between the two of you is your shared breathing. Yeji tilts her head back slightly and gazes into your eyes, waiting expectantly for you to act upon your desire. Waiting for you to throw her onto the desk and fuck the living shit out of her, just as she asked for.

You wait.

Her lower lip disappears beneath the bite of her teeth.

Wait.

A sudden flush rises up onto Yeji's cheeks, undoubtedly born from her frustration, but you don't miss the excitement hiding within it either. Then, Yeji takes another step forward, one which has you taking hold of her waist, pushing yourself hard up against her body.

Almost instantly, the pair of you go from hesitant to frantic, moving without a single word being spoken between either of you.

Your mouths meet in an open-mouthed kiss of heat, passion and impatience. There's a gasp coming from somewhere, a mixture of a moan as the two of you collide. It takes more willpower than expected not to shove your tongue down Yeji's throat as you feel hers slide against yours in an instant. Fingernails dig into your neck; not hard enough to leave marks, yet not soft enough to be mistaken as anything else than a woman showing what she wants. It's exactly what you wanted to do when you first saw her tonight.

She bites on your lip, sucks on it and goes straight back in. You grab hold of her tightly and shuffle her backwards towards the desk. You can barely restrain yourself. A groan rises up in the depths of your stomach when Yeji parts her legs slightly, welcoming your body in between them.

Every part of you tells you to bend her over and start hammering yourself into her, yet there's still one last detail you must attend to. You break free of Yeji's grasp and shove her roughly down onto your desk.

Her hair fans out around her head and her gaze looks darker somehow, more lustrous under this light. You follow her shape, down, over the bumps of her breasts, the dip of her waist, the curve of her hips and then to the hem of her dress, where bare thigh begins again. She shudders under the weight of your stare. Legs falling apart, invitingly.

You feel Yeji tremble under your tender touch as you run your hand up the outside of her thigh and push up the fabric of her dress. The tips of your fingers bump along the rim of her underwear before reaching her hip where you trace shapes absentmindedly. She's smooth and silky everywhere.

"What is it?" Yeji asks breathlessly when you don't move for a few moments. Your attention remains firmly locked on that final detail. The thin lace material covering her cunt.

You look her dead in the eyes and curl your fingers around it. "Just wondering how many different people have had you like this."

The red lace is pulled aside. Yeji stares at you, seemingly taken aback by your bluntness as you lean down a little further and angle her leg to the side, letting cool air hit every inch of her bare sex. And it's a lovely sight, all things considered. Neat, trimmed and glistening wet. Your hand moves across her thigh to hold her in place. "Usually I'm on top," Yeji replies, finally regaining her confidence.

"You'd rather be riding me, huh?"

"Yes." Yeji's answer comes immediately. Your cock is stiffening already at the mere thought of having her small body bouncing in your lap as she rides your length like a bitch in heat.

She runs her own hands up her slender frame, feeling up the sides of her own waist, skirting around those perky tits and letting out the smallest whimper of anticipation as she caresses the side of her neck. Her eyelashes flutter with desire. It seems the girl enjoys being admired just as much as you enjoy admiring.

"Don't worry, you'll get to ride it soon enough." Slowly, you drag your middle finger up between her folds, making sure you put enough pressure down against the sweet little bud of nerves to make her arch her back at the sensation. A deep inhale catches itself in the back of Yeji's throat when you sink your fingertip inside of her, only for it to turn into a disappointed sigh when you withdraw.

She bites her lip in embarrassment, no doubt mortified that she couldn't keep quiet at such a simple action, although that doesn't stop you from repeating the movement, applying more pressure and then sinking further into her. This time you withdraw and then taste your finger curiously. If the sweet scent wafting off her wasn't enough indication, she tastes as good as she looks.

"How are you so wet already?" you ask. "All from thinking about getting railed over my desk, hmm?" You ask teasingly, lowering your mouth down closer to her pussy and holding your breath for a moment. You can feel the warmth coming off her.

"It's exciting."

"What, fucking a stranger?"

"Yes," Yeji says bluntly. She wets her lips. "There's nothing quite like giving yourself up to someone completely random."

Your hand slides down her calf and gently pulls off her heel. As soon as it hits the ground, it's replaced with a slow and tender kiss on the inside of her ankle. The skin is just as smooth and supple as the rest of her. From here you have a much better view of how her delicate little flower pulses in longing.

Your head dips and you suck hard on Yeji's inner thigh. You delight in the surprised yelp leaving her mouth as you rake your teeth over her soft skin, pulling at it before letting go. It leaves behind a lovely purple bruise which you blow cold air over, soothing the irritated skin. It makes you smile, knowing that mark will remain for a week, to be seen by whoever she fucks next.

"Do you get excited thinking about having me join the list of cocks pounding away at you?"

Without allowing Yeji time to think, your tongue finds her clit and starts drawing shapes around it. "Yes!" You hear her hiss. Your left arm reaches under her thigh and keeps her pinned down to the table while your right does the same, only giving your tongue freedom to dance over her wet cunt.

You sample her thoroughly, getting her used to the feeling of your warm tongue running over every part of her. You apply more pressure to your work once you notice Yeji bucking her hips upwards to grind against your mouth.

"Oh shit." Yeji is panting heavily now, gasping for breath whenever you pay special attention to her clit. Her thighs quiver every so often, tensing around your head. "Don't—don't stop."

Yeji has the nicest legs you've ever laid eyes on. The way they wrap tightly around your head, squeezing the air out of you when you suck down on her swollen clit, it feels heavenly.

Suddenly, Yeji's hips thrust forward, throwing your rhythm off momentarily.

"Mmm, oh—fuck," she whimpers as you feel her body shake and quiver underneath your touch. Your pace doesn't slacken even once throughout.

"Fuck," Yeji whines louder this time. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

Already?

You put more pressure on her hips, keeping them pinned down as best as possible, whilst your tongue attacks her with fervent desperation, spurred on by Yeji's declaration. As the seconds pass by, Yeji becomes more vocal, though not with her words—with her actions. Her breathing picks up noticeably. Soon it becomes short and ragged. Her chest heaves. Her fingers claw into the surface below her. Her spine curves beautifully and her lips hang open wide, allowing loud cries to escape her.

She practically sings out for you as her nails scratch at your desk, looking for something to hold on to, something to ground her. Her whole body tenses up for several moments.

Then it happens.

Her mouth opens up wide yet no sound comes out, her back arches almost unnaturally and her juices coat your chin. The silence hangs in the air, heavy, palpable as her walls contract in ecstasy. Then it's finally broken with a loud snap. One of her fake nails pops off and flies across the room as she grips too hard on the edge of the desk.

Then she moans. Guttural, wanton, unrestrained, absolutely filthy. It fills the room, reverberating back to you in a delicious chorus of hedonism and pleasure. She lies there limp with her eyes shut. Her mouth open. Panting heavily. Basking in the glow.

"So easily?" you ask quietly. Yeji takes a deep breath, trying to steady her heart rate. Your hands leave her hips, caressing her trembling flesh, sliding upwards, running up her dress and over the curve of her waist until you reach her shoulders. You tug the straps down the length of her arms and lean closer, pushing the soft material down to reveal the top of her matching red lingerie. Your hand cups the back of her head. She instinctively knows to lift it.

You lower your lips down to her collarbone as you reach behind her to unzip her dress. The sensation of your kisses against her neck draws another moan out of Yeji. A quiet one this time, however. Gentle. Contended.

You kiss upwards, planting several against the underside of her jaw and the corners of her lips. "I can't stop myself," she whispers, opening her eyes just in time for you to press your lips against hers, tasting the lingering sweetness in your mouth. She smiles.

"Let's get you out of that dress," you say and she nods in agreement. "Up," you order softly and Yeji complies, lifting herself high enough for you to pull the material down her waist and over the length of her thighs. It falls to the ground in a heap at her feet. All that remains is the expensive-looking red underwear set she chose for this occasion.

The two of you exchange looks. She bites her lip. She can see the burning lust raging within your eyes. You don't care if it gives the game away.

There's an absolutely wicked smile that draws across her lips as you start to unbutton your shirt. Her voice is all sultry seduction when she says, "I've been meaning to ask you, are you always swayed so easily?"

"Honestly? Not really," you respond calmly, watching how her eyes eagerly take in your torso as you shrug off your clothing. "Maybe there is something about you that's just..." you trail off, unsure of how to end the sentence.

Yeji sits up on the edge of the desk and throws her arms around your neck, dragging you in closer so that your bodies connect. You feel her lips press against your chest in soft kisses. A finger trails over your abdomen, drawing patterns over your skin before moving downwards. "Yes?"

"Different." Your belt is quickly undone and dropped alongside her dress. Nimble fingers begin unbuttoning your trousers. You run your hands through her hair, appreciating how silky it feels running through your fingers.

Yeji has her gaze focused between your bodies, on her hands as they push your jeans down to the floor and you notice the change in her breathing the moment she wraps her hand around your cock.

She kisses her way up to your neck where her lips tickle your skin as she mumbles: "In a good way?"

Yeji presses the flat of her palm against the base of your erection, rubbing slowly. Your head tilts backwards slightly and you allow yourself a low groan. There's a warm puff of air as she giggles quietly against your neck.

"In a great way," you answer.

"Good," she purrs, suddenly tightening her grip on you and giving you several deliberate strokes. You watch intently as Yeji runs her thumb over the tip of your dick, circling it a few times before continuing with her motions. She leans closer, wrapping her legs around your body and placing her mouth by your ear. "I know what I said earlier about loving to ride a cock and all that," her voice is filled with lust. Pure, unbridled desire. "But honestly? I'd do just about anything right now to have you fuck me against this desk."

And that does it for you.

All semblance of control vanishes entirely in a heartbeat.

You drag her from her perch, only to turn her around and push her right back against the desk. Yeji bends over the edge and places both her palms flat atop it. You watch her toned legs move apart as she spreads them invitingly. Your hand reaches out to rest on her ass.

Soft. Round. Supple. Just begging to be fucked. Your dick rests comfortably between her cheeks, which are covered by the flimsiest piece of lace you've ever seen. The pair of you groan together in anticipation at the sensation of feeling each other so intimately. The anticipation of what is soon to come.

"You want me to fuck you, huh?" you ask.

Yeji turns her head to look at you, dark strands of black hair hanging before her beautiful, desperate eyes. "Please."

She waits expectantly as you move back just enough to hook your fingers into her underwear and pull them down slowly, revealing the pretty little cunt you had tasted earlier. The desk is ever so slightly too tall for her, and her long legs stretch to rest on her tiptoes.

You run your hand down between Yeji's pert cheeks, delighting in the gasp of relief leaving her mouth as you cup her heat. Your fingers slip through her slick, coating themselves with her natural arousal before one sinks inside effortlessly. You push it deep, drawing a content sigh from her lips as your digit bottoms out.

A second follows shortly after and she clenches hard around the pair of them.

"Your cock," Yeji demands. You curl your fingers inside of her, delighted by how she struggles to speak when you graze her weak spots. "Want it..."

"But this is fun," you state simply, continuing to explore every inch of her, learning which places cause the biggest reactions and relishing in her quiet hums of satisfaction every time you stimulate them. You'd be lying if you said it didn't make your cock pulse with the need to be inside her. That warm wetness wrapped snugly around your fingers would feel downright amazing around you.

Yeji wriggles her body, pressing her ass against you and whimpering as your digits push inside again. "Please... your cock." Your eyes drop from the beauty bent over in front of you and focus instead on the sight of your fingers disappearing repeatedly between those gorgeous legs. How her muscles clench and her toes curl against the carpet with each and every motion of your digits inside her. She looks ready. She feels ready.

"Well, seeing as you're asking so nicely—"

You slip your fingers out. The whine of loss from Yeji barely has time to fade as you grab hold of her ass with both hands, spread it out, line yourself up with her cunt and sink inside without hesitation. Fuck it. Why go slow?

"Oh god," Yeji moans as your hips meet. Her knuckles turn white as she claws at the surface of the desk in an effort to cope with the feeling of fullness that she's clearly experiencing right now. Her eyes widen and she bites hard into the back of her lip as her cunt stretches around you, accommodating you perfectly. She exhales deeply.

It's all worth it—the workplace compromise. This moment right here where your thick cock rests deep inside of Hwang Yeji's warm, wet cunt. Finally. And holy fucking hell—it's everything you could've ever asked for.

"I knew you'd feel so fucking good," you murmur, trailing your hands up Yeji's slender figure, feeling her back tense slightly when she lets out a small moan of agreement. Your fingers tangle into her long hair, wrap it around your fist, give a harsh tug to pull her head backwards, earning a sharp intake of air—and then you start rutting your hips into hers. Long, forceful strokes fill the air with repeated claps of skin slapping against skin.

The choked moans which tumble from Yeji's lips are music to your ears, encouraging you to keep her pinned down against your desk with a strong hand on the small of her back. Your fingertips press into her flawless skin hard enough to bruise, yet neither of you cares—not when there are far more important matters to attend to. Namely, pounding Yeji's brains out and filling her tight little pussy with ropes of hot cum.

So, you pick up your pace, quickening the tempo and making sure each thrust of your hips goes harder than the previous. Her mouth hangs open in a silent scream with each movement of your body against hers. Every slap of your hips against her ass elicits a reaction.

You're already addicted to her. Everything about Yeji makes you want to hold nothing back, and as you pull yourself out only to slam back inside her depths, you can't help but notice the absolute debauchery dripping from her words when she begs: "Harder. Fuck me harder."

And who are you to refuse her request? She looks incredible anyway, but seeing her eyes screw shut in bliss while a strand of saliva escapes past her open mouth? Nothing would convince you to let up now.

The constant clatter of objects rattling and shifting across the surface of your desk adds a nice soundtrack to the experience. So do the increasingly frequent moans spilling freely from Yeji's lips, each one higher-pitched than the last. They spur you on. Give you the incentive to chase after her pleasure.

And then you feel the telltale clamping down of her walls around you. Your cock is held tightly in her warmth, refusing to relinquish its grasp on you until you've filled her with cum. Until you've pumped your load deep inside of her wanting cunt. You know it's coming and you adjust accordingly. Forcing yourself to maintain rhythm as you pound her pussy into submission.

You yank on her hair and tug her upwards, forcing her back to crash against your torso. You bring your other hand to her chest, sliding beneath the fabric of her bra to cup at her tit. Her hands desperately search for but fail to find, purchase on the desk. She's helplessly suspended between your grasp and your cock as she cums. Helpless to do anything except take it. Take what she's given.

An indecent series of shrieks and wails erupts from somewhere deep within her chest as Yeji's body seizes up and convulses violently against yours. It sets you off. You bury yourself hilt-deep inside of her and explode. Your vision goes blurry, your toes curl, your jaw clenches shut and your teeth grind painfully together.

It takes everything within you not to collapse forwards on top of the girl you're filling to the brim, instead relying solely on the strength of your grip to stay upright as your cock jerks erratically inside of her, pulsating again and again, releasing stream after stream of creamy spunk deep into her.

As soon as the world stops spinning and the fog starts clearing from your mind, you're met with the sight of Hwang Yeji trying desperately to regain any semblance of control over her own body as well. She's slumped atop your desk, panting heavily, her body twitching occasionally.

You lean down, peppering a gentle trail of kisses down the side of her neck, stopping briefly at the space just below her ear where you whisper, "You look stunning like this."

It takes Yeji several seconds before she manages a reply. She eventually opens her eyes halfway and gives you an exhausted smile. "Like what?"

"Sweaty. Thoroughly used. Filled to the fucking brim."

Your comment draws a faint giggle from her which ends abruptly the moment you drag yourself backwards, slipping your softening cock out of her cunt along with the rush of semen that spills from her and trickles onto your desk.

"Oh god," Yeji mutters as the mess slips from between her legs. She pushes herself up from her prone position and lifts herself off your table, leaving behind a lovely sticky patch where her crotch had rested. You stumble towards your chair and plop down on it, resting your back against the cool leather whilst admiring Yeji's flushed features.

"I still haven't gotten to ride your cock yet."

"I don't know if I—"

Yeji drops to her knees in front of you and grabs the base of your shaft without a second thought, squeezing it lightly and causing it to stiffen slightly. "Well I do," she declares.

She leans closer.

You catch sight of your reflection in her dark brown eyes just before Yeji extends her tongue, running it carefully over the sensitive skin of your cock before planting a wet kiss against the tip. Then she does it again. And again. The movements become a pattern until, suddenly, you're enveloped by the heat of Yeji's mouth.

"Ah," you gasp as she takes you. So sensitive to the touch of her tongue as it swirls around you. She hums approvingly at your reaction and slides deeper, taking your semi-erect cock further into her mouth as she continues to suck you off. Her head bobs slowly up and down, gradually coaxing you back to life until she slips you out from between her lips with a pop.

"That got you hard fast enough." Yeji grins. She stands up straight, and then your jaw falls open slightly at the sight of Yeji reaching behind her back to unclasp her bra. It falls to the ground in slow motion. Delicate pale skin stretches beautifully over perky breasts topped with cute pink nipples. God damn.

Yeji straddles your lap, trapping your body underneath hers. It doesn't take much to push you inside. To have her slide down the length of your shaft once again. She sits still for a few seconds, grinding her hips subtly against yours whilst biting on her lower lip. "Fuck, this feels good." She rotates her hips in little circles. "Feel that? I'm still full of your cum."

The pace is slower now. You're content to sit back, listen to the sounds of wet, sloppy sex filling the office air, and watch how her beautiful features contort with pleasure when your cock scrapes against a weak spot. There's something incredibly arousing about having such a famous idol sitting in your lap, fucking herself silly on your dick alone. She uses it like a toy to chase after her own pleasure.

One of her hands laces itself into your hair, tugging on it harshly. You retaliate with equal ferocity by sinking your fingers into Yeji's plump ass. It earns you a wonderful hiss of approval which comes accompanied by a tight squeeze around your shaft as her free hand moves down between your bodies and furiously rubs at her clit.

It's not long before you realise that she's close, and judging by her frantic behaviour, you figure she isn't looking to make it last longer.

Yeji whimpers cutely. Her head falls backwards, exposing her perfect neck. An expanse of unblemished, untouched skin that simply demands to be marked. Claimed. Taken.

And so you lean forwards, place your mouth on the soft skin and start sucking on it, nipping at the supple flesh. You feel her tighten around you instantly.

"Oh god!" She cries out. Yeji tries to bounce in your lap but fails miserably. She's no longer in control of her body. All she can do is quiver, cry out, and gasp in ecstasy as another orgasm surges through her. It's nowhere near as powerful as the previous two. Instead, it's drawn out. Lasting longer and keeping her moaning throughout.

When it's over and done with, you release your hold on her neck. In return, her exhausted head comes to rest against your shoulder. Her hot pants hit your cheek as she lay there limply against your frame.

"Too much?" you tease and Yeji scoffs. You give her a gentle spank and ask, "That's all you've got?"

"Just catching my breath."

She puts action to word immediately and picks herself back up. There's a determination etched all over her face as she brings both arms to rest on your shoulders, locking you in place and supporting herself on top of you. The expression she wears leaves little room for misinterpretation; this one is yours.

Yeji begins riding you again. Slowly at first, letting herself grow accustomed to the sensation of being filled again. Then faster. Harder. Using your cock to fuck herself on. Taking charge once more. You happily allow her to have it. Glad to let the beautiful starlet do whatever the fuck she wants with your body. Relishing the fact that you're balls-deep inside of her and she loves every inch of you.

"I need it," Yeji whines, slamming herself down on top of you again and again, her soft ass smacking against your thighs repeatedly. Her hair billows wildly around her, sticking to her sweaty skin, flying every which way without rhyme or reason, driven mad by her insatiable desire to keep on going. She keeps saying things under her breath, nonsensical at best, unintelligible at worst.

But her efforts get results. As much as you want to prolong the moment forever, your body can only handle so much. Pleasure courses through your veins like electricity, setting alight every nerve ending within your body until finally, you feel that familiar heat rise from somewhere deep within.

Yeji must sense it because she suddenly kicks it up yet another notch, crying out incoherently as she drops down on your shaft once more, twice more—a third time sends you toppling over the edge. You grip her hips tight, digging your fingertips deep into her flesh as your cock pulses powerfully inside of her cunt, painting her walls white.

She drags it out. Uses gravity to force you as deep inside as possible, allowing every single drop to spill inside of her again. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull as you grunt loudly. Any coherent thought becomes impossible as you cum.

Once more, it takes several moments before you come back down from the clouds. When reality sets in again, Yeji is still straddled atop your lap, watching you with an amused grin stretching from ear to ear. You're left with nothing else to do except admire how her flushed cheeks accentuate her gorgeous features even further.

"I know. I know," she says while stroking your cheek. "I'm amazing."

"You're trouble," you correct breathlessly.

She rolls her eyes at your choice of words and then glances downwards. You follow her gaze just in time to see her raise herself off your spent member, allowing several thick strands of cum to dribble from her cunt and onto your leg. You both share a brief laugh at how filthy it looks before Yeji clambers off you and steps away, leaving you completely bare whilst she reaches down to retrieve her panties.

"No," you blurt out immediately. Your interjection catches her attention and she halts mid-motion, quirking an eyebrow curiously.

"No?"

"You can leave them."

She gives you a knowing look but acquiesces anyway, stepping aside and grabbing her dress instead. "Disgusting," she winks with a coy smirk.

#Yeji smut #Itzy smut #male reader #kpop smut #m reader #Yeji x reader #praelmas #smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

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