#p/trouble make it double

[soobvape]

i need brownies so fucking bad rn

[satorena]

( P*SSY GOT ) P☆WER !?

bad ☆ summary. converting a loser into a munch wasn’t on your yearly bingo card ( or was it ? )

content ★ warnings. explicit content. mdni. foul language. situationship!gojo. college au. cunningulus. frōtting. premature ejaculātion. fīngering. eventual smut. gojo pines for like 99% of the fic. he also studies in pornology. reader is kinda bratty. mention of death lightheartedly. a lot of italicized words. lowkey gojo centric? 6.4k words (bye).

rena’s ☆ note. SATORENA COMEBACK … sorta (・・?)

“gimme a kiss.”

your face scrunches before the words can express your distaste. with your hand on the handle of his car’s door, your fingers tighten around the metal bar, half tempted to leave the man at your left— rosy lips puckered into an obnoxious smooch.

his eyelids are shut tight as his brows furrow to the centre of his forehead, face leaned in. you chuckle at his theatrics, lifting your free hand to press your digits at his pucker. his eyelids open as his brows now loosen, “gojo, bye.”

you feel his hands wrap around your wrist, gently lifting your hand off his mouth, though your fingers hover over his lips still, “girl.” he tilts his head to the side, emitting an aura of sass you’ve yet to understand, “it’s satoru to you— i can’t even have a little one? haven’t i been good all day?”

you click your tongue, “you been runnin’ your mouth all day long actually,” and before your mind can even process your following words, you focus on the way his plump lips fall into another one of his childish pouts. cute. however he chooses to take your invitation is all up to him. your eyes dart to the rosy flesh as you hum, “mhm, if only you ate pussy as good as you talk shit.”

you feel the hold on your wrist drop, as his frown switches to a blank stare. you cock a brow, watching as the hand his steering wheel tightens.

he gulps, eyes narrowing before glancing over to the leather wheel, “i, uh, don’t eat pussy.”

oh. . . oh.

the slam of the car door speaks the rest for you.

“woah— hey!” gojo yells after you, though your figure seems to get smaller with the steps you take. in your hold is your purse, bouquet of flowers he’d bought earlier and house keys. “baby, hold on— this damn window,” he cusses, removing the barrier between you and him angrily. you hadn’t even hesitated to exit the car, as if he’d said the world’s most vile comment.

you’re not listening, and for some reason gojo feels his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach. what the fuck had he said that made you all upset with him?

he watches helplessly as you insert your key into the hole. the chiming sounds of your keys serve as a reminder that he was definitely in trouble. that and he wasn’t getting his damn goodbye kiss.

he sighs instead, albeit defeatedly. “am i at least gonna see you soon?”

the front door opens and you look back over your shoulder, and god— he really thought he had it. his lips threaten to pull into a smile, ready for your little mood to be over with.

you grin and as does he. you even give him a cute wave, thank fuck, “have yourself a nice life, baby.”

and the front door closes. damn.

☆ ☆

“you said what?!”

gojo groans into the phone, sprawling himself on his king sized mattress that suddenly feels way to big for him alone. where were you when he needed you? oh that’s right, “she ghosted me! i’m blocked on all socials— can you believe that?”

he tried reaching out to you through texts to make sure you were feeling okay, but the shade of green told him everything he needed to know— especially as an apple user. he then proceeded to go through your social media, to double check his suspicions and there it was, user not found.

“uh, duh?” geto is as judgemental as ever, and gojo doesn’t try to suppress the roll of his eyes. “bro, you just told the girl you’re talkin’ to that you don’t give head. the fuck d’you think was gonna happen?”

“it’s not even a big deal!” he argues because his pride in on the line, and he ignores the groan geto gives him across the phone. rude. his fingers pinch at the top of his nose bridge, “was it really necessary to block me? literally just tell me to kill myself at this point.”

“pretty sure that’s what she blocked you for.” geto snickers, and gojo realizes he’s lucky they aren’t in person because he would have blocked him. instead he whines, pressing the speaker button before stuffing his face in his pillow. he’s probably insane but he swears there’s a hint of your scent there, and now he’s whining louder.

“quit bitchin’. you brought this upon yourself,” and out of spite, gojo whines louder. if his legs kick against his mattress childishly, it’s nobody’s business but his own. the love of his life just walked out of his life— give him a break. “and dude, no shade but do you really not eat pussy? are you gay or somethin’?”

“i am not—” he cuts himself off once the sound of his own voice echoes loudly in his lonely room. geto winces and gojo bites down on his tongue before sighing. “i’m not gay. i love women only. seriously. how does not eating pussy make me gay?”

the line goes quiet, and gojo can tell geto’s making that face he makes whenever he’s finding the right words to say without offending gojo. it ticks him off. “alright, lemme counter that question with one of my own. why don’t you eat pussy?”

gojo pauses. he tightens his fingers around his pillow as the question ponders. he thinks about having received head in the back of his car once, the other time in the bathroom of some frat party, and another in some girl’s bedroom. from all memories, he draws a similar conclusion— they always come onto him first.

“i dunno.” his lips fall into a pout, tracing patterns into his pillowcase with his index. “they never really ask, so i never bothered. that can’t be weird, right? all of my hookups have consisted of them pulling my pants down. why would i refuse? i get my nut and that’s that.”

and because geto is genuinely never on his side, “satoru . . . eugh.” some kind of best friend is he.

“what?!” he hisses in retaliation, glaring at his phone as if it would solve his issues. there’s nothing he hates more than feeling judged. “you fucking asked!”

“calm the fuck down,” he hears geto rolling his eyes. the white haired man huffs, the blow of air pushing his bangs up before they fall back down. okay, maybe he should calm down. whatever. “so essentially what you’re saying is you’ve never been put in a position where you could eat pussy?”

something like that, “sure.” gojo nods, and he doesn’t understand why geto sighs.

“why do i even bother?” though the answer is clear, he’s pretty sure geto was talking to himself. gojo clicks his tongue, ready to bark back but geto beats him to it. “so tell her just that— it’s not that you won’t give head, it’s just that you haven’t given head. which still blows me, but whatever.”

“how? remember she blocked me on everything?” the thought makes gojo whine again, throwing his limbs all over his bed. he hits his phone, then opts to grab it. “is that not entitlement? i have to bend my back all over the damn place just to get her to talk to me again?”

“satoru, you’ve literally done the same thing. don’t act like you’re above it,” geto chuckles and gojo hears shuffling in the background. the ravenette sighs in relief, and he assumes he’s now in his own bed. “besides, you fuckin’ love women who give you challenges.”

and fuck, he’s really not wrong. “yeahhh, you know me so well.” he wipes a fake tear from his eye. he rolls over onto his back, “welp, i’m gonna log into your insta to stalk her account. i miss her so much i’m literally gonna die.”

“satoru.” geto warns him, but gojo is quicker than that. he’s already typing your name into the search bar, username memorized as if it were his cellphone number.“i swear to god if you accidentally like her shit—”

“thanks bestie, love ya lots!” and he hangs up the phone. and with a shit eating grin, he giggles, “time to start lurking.”

☆ ☆

so it’s been months (read: four days) since he last seen you. he’s thankful you’re at least in two of his courses, so he has some sort of opportunity to reach you. he’d spent the last months (hours) stalking your page, viewing your stories to see if there’d been any indicator that you missed him as badly as he missed you.

and all he’s gotten so far is that you spent friday out to dinner (with him) (it was just a mirror pic of your outfit but an outfit you wore on a date with him) (you love him so bad), you had a girls’ night on saturday with shoko and utahime (he barely registered they were in the selfie) and sunday was a study sesh you had at the cafe across the college. he had to screenshot and zoom in to ensure there were no signs of living souls in the same booth as you.

he was still in the clear. whew.

and so monday morning falls, and he’s actually rushing to get to class for once (late but as expected). the one of two classes he shares with you. he hopes he’ll find you sitting in your habitual seat, not too far up close yet not too far back, and he might pull the fire alarm if he spots anybody next to you.

he’s a man on a mission— he’s going to talk to you today. he needs to be back in your good graces. there were many things he wanted to yap to you about, many places he thought of taking you over the weekend, many moments he wanted your soft lips back on his and your gentle hand back in his own.

he misses you, damn it.

there you sit, in all your glory, shining so bright in the middle of this depressing ass psychology course in the early hours of the butt fuck morning. he sees you twirling your pen in between your fingers, your cheek leaned into the palm of your hand— and nobody by your side.

if he rushes and trips over his feet momentarily to get to you in time, it’s nobody’s business but his own (and the girl who’s backpack laid useless on the floor. hazard much.)

he so much as plops into the seat as he does actually sit in it, and he watches as you jerk in surprise. though, the look of surprise is quickly replaced by aloofness. you feel different— not entirely closed off but not as welcoming as you usually are. you’re probably still done with him.

well it’s too damn bad he’s not done with you, “good morning, princess.”

you blink at him, before nodding your head curtly. “morning, gojo.” and you turn your focus back onto the professor. just like that, you shut down another conversation.

he doesn’t like that, and so he pokes at your side and chews at his strawberry gum. “you blocked me on everything.”

“i did.” you answer shortly, though your eyes never leave the professor. he cannot be that interesting, who actually gives a fuck about cognitive dissonance?

“seen this new bakery shop down the street.” he tries again. “wanted to take you but that was impossible because somebody blocked me.”

“i mean, you know where i live.” you shrug, writing whatever the fuck the professor had mentioned in your notebook. wait, what? you turn your head to see him gaping at you in confusion, and you smirk at his silence.

“cat got your tongue?” you quip, amused by his stillness. your eyes sparkle mischievously, though your smile isn’t entirely full. don’t tell him, you’ve been— “too bad it’s not mine, though.”

ohhh, you cheeky brat.

“so. . . you were never really mad at me?” gojo blinks, his mind running miles a second. nothing was adding up, he was positively certain you were cutting ties with him. “this whole time. you weren’t mad about the pussy eating comment?”

“don’t get it twisted,” you raise a brow, crossing your arms over your chest. you lift a finger in the air before pointing at him, “you,” and then pointing at yourself “and i are done. we can still be cool but i’m not wasting my time with no bitch—respectfully.”

“so you are mad?” he asks again, disregarding the bitch comment. he knows what he’s supposed to say— to clarify the situation, to make it known that it’s not like he’s repulsed by the idea of giving head— but you make it so hard to stay on track when you’re acting defiant.

suguru was right— he does love a challenge.

“mad?” you giggle, and gojo leans back in his seat. damn, you’re confusing. stone cold one minute but all giggly the next. it’s cool, he’ll figure you out. “i ain’t trippin’ baby— if you don’t wanna eat it then don’t. another man definitely will.”

huh, “oh?” his eyes narrow just slightly, though the smirk on his lips never falter. he ignores the way his stomach just dropped to his ass at your implication— there is no way in hell is he letting another man have you. not when he’s still alive and breathing. “if you think i’m letting that happen, you’ve got another thing comin’.”

“everything seems to be coming but me,” you bat your lashes, and damn he fell right into that one. you drop your pen down, giving him one last smile before redirecting your focus to the professor before you. “the real question is what do you plan on doing ‘bout that?”

you give him no time to respond, and it’s not like he thinks he would be able to, as you begin to pack your belongings into your tote bag. you’re leaving and he barely got to say what he’d been memorizing all weekend. oh well, at least he now knows you haven’t entirely cut him off.

if he doesn’t knows better, it feels like you want him to chase after you.

god, he thinks he’s in love.

☆ ☆

gojo satoru is amazing at everything. there truly isn’t something he can do that won’t come out spectacular. he’s gifted, that he knows much, and it’s difficult to stay humble when he’s constantly reminded of so.

“i can easily do this shit.” he mumbles to himself, cerulean eyes narrowing into focus at the bright lit screen of his ipad. his airpods are in, and he’s gonna be completely honest— the pornstar’s screaming is starting to get on his nerve. however, he’s always been an exceptional student and when it’s time to lock in, it’s time to lock in.

his legs feel as though they’ve fallen asleep in the criss-cross position he’s been sat in on his bed for the past two hours. irrelevant, he decides as he picks at his bottom lip with his fingers. his device is running hot with how long it’s been since it last caught a break, but he had bigger issues to worry about. so, basically all he has to do is spread open her lips and go to town until she squirts? sounds simple enough.

he watches as the guy begins motorboating into the girl’s pussy and— “damn, that looks like it hurts.” a grimace creeps onto his face as the guy repeatedly goes ham on swollen red lips. he’s got half a mind telling him that the moans the girl’s letting out are entirely out of agony and not pleasure.

“aaaalrighty,” gojo speaks up, though to himself. “next video, that shit was ass. pussy hurts just thinkin’ bout it, eugh.”

he finds an amateur video, and the thumbnail seemed intimate enough. after an agonizing ad of ‘want a quick break from the ads?’, the video begins. the upper half of the woman’s body is cut out of frame, but she’s laid onto her side, her backside in view. her top leg lifted just slightly, the man lays on his stomach and spreads them apart further and begins to lick.

he dives his tongue inside her cunt, not too sloppy, and gently works his way in. his thumb is caressing at her puckered forbidden zone, always gently, as his tongue glides up and down her labia.

gojo gulps. the girl makes soft sounds, hand coming down to play her the man’s hair, and he proceeds eat her out skillfully. her back arches, she whines and begs for more, and he never loses control. at some point, the hand that focused on her asshole moves up to grip at her cheeks, thus spreading her pussy lips further. she’s already wet from a mixture of fluids, and the sound it creates is so damn obscene.

gojo gulps again, and his sweats feel tight.

before his mind can even allow it, he’s thinking of you. he thinks of you on your side, legs spread open for his disposition as he brings you this same pleasure. as he lays himself on his stomach, munching at your pussy in ways that’ll have you squirming all over his bed, squeezing your plush thighs around his head and begging for him to give you more.

he thinks of how good you’d smell— how good you’d taste. he thinks of how nice you smell whenever you wrap your arms around his neck and he follows suit around your waist. he thinks of how sweet your lips taste when you’re straddling his thighs and slipping your tongue in his mouth.

pheromones are a crazy thing. your scent lingering in his car alone drives him insane. he’s so prone to boners around you, it’s like he’s a dog you’ve trained.

and now he’s thinking he wants you in this very bed at this very instance, ipad be damned, pussy spread open so he can feast. so he can relish the sounds you make as you call out his name, enamoured by the way his tongue would flick at your clit and break open that dam of water right onto his face.

“shit.” he chucks his ipad onto the floor, cradling his head into the palms of his hands. how had he not ever wanted to do this before?

☆ ☆

he doesn’t expect you to pick up. it’s far past two in the morning on a thursday night, and he’s missing you. badly. he misses you and your sweet smile. he misses you and your smart mouth. he misses you and the way your lips move so fluidly against his own, as if they were made for one another.

he really doesn’t expect you to pick up.

it’s around the fifth ring that he hears your honeyed voice, “hi.” his eyes widen as he sits up from his bed in a hurry. talk about a damn surprise.

“hey.” he says back lamely, because of course he does. he feels the corner of his lips tugging into a smile and his heart is beating wildly against his rib cage. “didn’t think you’d answer.”

“mhm. so what’d you call me for?” you sound tired, and he wonders if you’d been sleeping when he called. somehow, the thought makes his stomach churn at the implication you cut off hours of sleep for him.

“just wanted to hear your voice.” gojo answers as honestly as he can, leaning down to rest his back back into the mattress of his bed. he shuts his eyes and imagines his arm falling asleep underneath your head, using him as a pillow. “been missin’ you.”

“you literally see me every other day at school,” he’s graced with the harmonious sounds of your giggles, and he can already picture the way your shoulders shake as dimples curve into your cheeks. “y’re so fuckin’ clingy.”

he supposes he is, can’t even find it in him to disagree. you’ve been plaguing his mind since you cut him off (question mark) last week. he wasn’t sure what kind of ban you were putting on him, but he’s been tiptoeing around his relationship with you for too long. the absence of your presence in the way he craves is driving him nuts. he misses you, damn it.

a longing sigh rips from his throat, “can’t help that i miss that ass,” he jokes instead because talking about feelings and vulnerability is wrong. “you still owe me a goodbye kiss, y’know? just left a poor guy hangin’, rude.”

“hmm,” you hum lazily and he isn’t sure what to expect. he’s just talking out of his ass, wants to restore that playful banter you guys had prior to this whole pussy eating mess— which he’d gladly now get on his knees and rock your fucking world. “like i said already, you know where i live.”

“you got one more time to say that before i show up at your doorstep for real,” gojo tests the waters, and swings his legs off his bed. he’s waiting for a sign, confirmation, anything to ensure you were being serious. late night be damned, he will show up to your door and flip your shit right then and there.

“the fuck i gotta repeat myself for?” you sigh, and gojo’s slipping his shoes on. he’s wasting no more time, he wants you right now. “if you really missed me you would have been come see me. you’re all talk.”

“so when i yell at your doorstep to lemme eat it, don’t start lookin’ at me crazy—i’m warning ya.” and with that he hangs up. he’s not leaving any more room for debates, enough’s enough. and shit, when the fuck had he gotten bricked?

he grabs his keys and slams his door close.

☆ ☆

you’re looking at him like he grew an extra head on his shoulders overnight. he’s looking at you like the tee you have on your body decimated his entire bloodline. there’s a heavy silence between you both, as if either one of you are expecting the other to make the first move.

“you actually came.” you blink in mild shock, neck craning up to look him dead in the eye. he’s panting heavily, he might’ve ran here the second he could, but how could he not have?

“enough games, baby.” gojo answers instead and takes a step into your apartment. you back up in retaliation, and he takes another close step. you stay still this time. his hands sneak below the hem of your shirt and slide up to your bare waist, grabbing onto the plush flesh. you feel jolts of electricity imbedded into your skin with every lingering touch. “lemme eat it, come on. please?”

“oh?” you cock an eyebrow, raising a hand to press your palm flat against the plane of his chest. you feel his heartbeat thudding wildly. “and here i thought you were too good to stoop as low as giving women head.”

gojo clicks his tongue and tightens his hold on you. “i never said that.”

“you basically did.” you bite back, tilting your head to the side. you see his nostrils flare a bit, “or does that rule apply with just me?”

“if it did, would i be here at three in the morning begging to eat your pussy?” gojo rolls his eyes. you open your mouth but snap it back shut and gojo decides you conceded. he lifts you from the ground and places you on his shoulder, ignoring your ‘put me down!’ and opts to shut you up with a firm slap on your ass.

your cheeks jiggle from the impact, and his dick twitches in his briefs. as he suspected, you’ve got no bottoms on— just a cute pair of pink lace panties he wants to tear apart with his teeth. animalistic is what you make him.

“so. . . which one is your room?” he finds himself in the corridor, arm wrapped around the back of your knees. you fall limp in his hold, defeatedly as your arm lifts to point at the door at the end of the hall. he smirks and rubs at your booty, “atta girl. look at ya bein’ all obedient and shit.”

“shut up.” you huff, and he would bet a million dollars you’ve got that adorable pout on your lips. the one you make whenever you don’t get something done the way you planned.

your bedroom is everything he expected from you, fits your personality just about right. but—respectfully, fuck your bedroom. he’s got bigger issues to address, and that can only be done with your panties on the floor and a mouth full of your cunt. his dick is twitching uncontrollably at the thought of it alone.

“if you drop me on this bed, i swear i’m gonna kill you.” tilting your head, you warn him once he stands next to the edge of your bed frame. though a moot point, because if you know gojo as well as you think you do, you’re about to meet your duvets face first.

“mhm, what was that?” cupping a hand behind his ear, he pretends innocence then proceeds to do exactly what you warned him not to do. him and his long ass limbs, manhandling you all over the damn place as if its in his birthright. and no, it does not make your cunt clench, despite your thighs rubbing one against another. “sorry shortie, think i missed what you said.”

when you’re finally able to gain composure, you sit up on your elbows and furrow your brows in the nastiest scowl you can muster. he stands right above you, his frame so large it both annoys and turns you on. “gojo, you stupid fucking—”

you want to slap the smile off his face. “yeah, yeah.” he cuts you off, before leaning down to hover over you. his arms are pinned at your side, upper body pressing against yours. you feel the weight of his hips pressing into your legs, and so you widen the space. he fits in just as perfectly as you’d imagined he would. the tip of his nose brushes yours, biceps flexing in your peripherals. you feel his breath fanning at your cupid’s bow, warm yet it leaves shivers creeping at your spine.

“think you owe me somethin’, princess.” his voice comes out in a low growl, from the depths of his chest. his presence is so dominating— his bulge pressed right up against your aching cunt, the feel of his heartbeat right against yours. it all feels dizzying, the scent of his cologne filling up your nostrils and clouding any better sense of judgement.

he’s teasing you— leans in, brushes his soft lips against yours and watches as you lean forward to capture them but pulls away just in nick of time. he loves every one of your facial expressions, especially that adorable scowl of yours. he can’t wait to see the faces you make when you’re in absolute bliss.

he tilts his head just slightly, practically mouthing the words into your parted mouth. and with a low chuckle, he speaks, “if you want it, take it.”

you might’ve folded first, but he kisses you back just as eagerly, lips moulding into one another. you feel him sigh into your mouth, as if you’d relieved him of all stresses weighing on his shoulders. you lift a hand to cup at the back of his neck, fingernails scratching at the undercut at his nape.

gojo shudders beneath your touch, rolling his hips deeper into yours and relishes in the way you moan softly into his mouth. he wants to drink up every single sound you make, wants to discover your body’s sensitive spots and maneuver them into making a mess out of you.

your neck soon begins to ache, and almost as if he can read your mind, pushing deeper into you as you fall back onto your bed. he never takes his lips off of yours— not when the hold in his hair lowers in favour to grip at his biceps or stroke his back, not even when your legs wrap tightly at his waist. at a particular grind, you moan louder than any other sound you’d made all night, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

“gojo,” you whine into his mouth, fingers clawing at his compression tee. he continues to roll his bulge into your clothed cunt, aiming at that spot that has you arching your back off the bed and into him. he grips a hand tightly at your plush thigh, his hold so hard you’re certain he’ll leave bruises. “you said y-you’d eat it. be a man of your, ngh, word.”

“yeah, that’s right,” he pulls away finally, a thin string of saliva connecting both your lips. he pecks at your kiss bitten lips, the dazed look in your eyes igniting a fire deep in his gut. “gotta keep my promise— can’t keep my baby waitin’ too long,” you feel his lips trail from the corner of your lips to the slope of your jaw, “she gets all cranky an’ pissy.” from the column on your neck to your collarbone, “starts gettin’ all mean with me.”

“oh my gosh, shut up!” you complain, though your hold on him tightens. you feel the vibrations of his chuckles at your jugular, followed by a deep plunge on his teeth at the thin layer of skin and another agonizingly slow grind against your clit. “fuckin’— shit— hurry up already!”

“tsk, see what i mean?” gojo tuts, hands sliding down the curves at your torso. you feel his large fingers play with the material of your panties, rolling the lace between forefingers. the contrast of the coolness of his rings against your heated skin adds a strange stimulation to your senses. “so mouthy, ‘m gonna have to do somethin’ about that.”

“i’m mouthy?” you squawk, watching as he lifts your tee up from your body. he taps wordlessly at your waist and you understand to remove the article of clothing. you chuck the tee across the room, before redirecting your focus on the man peppering wet kisses all over your stomach. it leaves butterflies rattling inside. “you literally cannot shut the fuck up— what’s the hold up? awe, don’t tell me you can’t walk the talk?”

he pauses for a bit. he doesn’t let himself fall bait for your words. you’re just being bratty— all hot and bothered and can’t properly ask for what you need. you don’t have to worry, he’s here entirely for your pleasure. he isn’t even thinking about the way his cock throbs painfully in his boxers, doesn’t even attempt to relieve it at all.

and so, he kneels at the edge of the bed. with two large hands cupping at your hips, he pulls you closer to him and rests your thighs on his shoulders. he watches as your chest rises up and down, and you prop yourself back onto your elbows.

your eyes are misty, your lips swollen and wet, your hair a mess and your neck littered in marks that scream gojo. you already look fucked out and he hadn’t done shit. god, he can’t wait to stuff his face between your thighs.

“i got you baby,” he drags his index finger right in the center of your cunt. he can both feel and see the material dampen with your arousal, your hips squirming as you chase for more. he licks his lips as he narrows in on the treasure, he swears he hears his stomach growling. “promise i do. just relax for me, yeah?”

“whatever.” you mumble, and comply to his order. he calls you a good girl, before stroking at your clit some more. the reactions you give will forever be imprinted in his mind, fleeting touches already granting him the opportunity to hear your delicate voice once more. you may be impatient but gojo is worse, and he decides that he wants to see your cunt now. he pushes your panties to the side, and the sight he’s rewarded with nearly— nearly, had him cumming right on two knees.

gojo gulps. “holy shit,” he feels his voice waver in excitement, eyes widened as he stares dead on. your cunt clenches around nothing from the switch of temperature, oozing more of your arousal down to your sheets. your pussy lips are puffy, clit sitting atop so prettily and damn, he wants to hump something.

he isn’t sure why but you try to close your thighs together, rude much, though gojo is much stronger. he keeps them spread wide, and shoots you a look. “do not.”

“tsk.” you click your tongue, looking away. and, oh, are you shy? “stop staring, you fuckin’ weirdo.”

he’s too far enamoured by the slick dribbling from your tiny hole down the crack of your ass. it trickles so tauntingly, that he finds himself nearly jealous. he wishes he could be there— oh wait, “just appreciatin’ my meal before i eat, sue me.”

the pad of his thumb collects your juices before popping it into his mouth. “wow,” he mumbles, more so to himself, at your taste bursting onto his taste buds. it’s so undoubtedly you, a raw and truthful you, and he gives you no warning before diving right in.

“fuckkk,” you throw your head back, hand flying to grab at the nearest thing in your vicinity— which so happens to be tousled, fluffy hair.

so, first time for everything right? but gojo maneuvers his way into your pussy as if he’d done this before. he starts off with kitten licks, teasing you some more before flattening his tongue and dragging it up and down your lips. he swallows and moans into your cunt, fingers digging deep into the back of your thighs.

he’s practically making out with your pussy. he doesn’t neglect any area, not even the clit surprisingly, as he latches his lips to the bundle of nerves and lightly nibbles. now that has your back arching and pushing his head deeper into you. if there was a way to go in life, he’d gladly take this death.

he’s so painfully hard it hurts, unable to control the way his hips grind against the bed frame. your scent is driving him feral, the way you tug on his hair harshly has his balls tightening and the way you cry out his name makes him want to imprint his name inside of you.

“s-satoru!” oh god, you’ve done it. you finally said his first name and he’s this close to painting his briefs white in shame. he continues to flick his tongue inside your hole and similar strokes to his humping. “you’re doin’ s’gooddd baby, shit!”

keep praising him and he’s gonna bust. he lifts himself away from your pussy, eyeing the gooey center almost offensively, “why the fuck do you taste so good?” he lands a wad of spit down, as he brings two digits to properly rub his saliva into your essence. the sounds it produces are so wet, it’s damn near filthy. he clicks his tongue, “seriously. ‘s makin’ me mad almost.” he slaps at your cunt twice, watching how your spray down his wrist.

“you s-sure this is your first, hnng, time?” you accuse, to the best of your abilities, as you feel him slip a finger in. you’re so lubricated, the slip inside was easy. pushing past that first ring of muscle, he’s pumping in and out of your cunt with precision, curling his digit as if he’s aiming to find a specific area. “y’know too much— mmph, fuckin’ liar.”

when he thrusts into a specific angle, your thighs tremble terribly around his head. he smirks, found it. “watched a lotta porn.” and he isn’t lying, he thinks back to how he studied the arts of cunningulus, and recalls the double combo. he has to try it, so he’s back to sucking and nibbling at your clit while adding an extra finger inside.

“oh my goddd,” you whine, feeling your limbs liquify in heat from every extremity. he pushes your knee further into your chest, and so you grab ahold of both your thighs. he hums approvingly, dragging his free hand along the soft skin of your legs. “don’t— don’t stop, please don’t stop,”

your toes are curled, back off the mattress and the pain in his scalp is shooting straight down to his cock. he’s rutting and rutting into the wooden frame, the flat surface painfully teasing though it does do the job. or maybe he has you to blame.

he feels saliva dripping down his chin, the way his tongue slides into your folds and feels his knuckles in there. his fingers move in scissoring motions, rotating circles, in and out— all the while repeatedly attacking your golden spot.

you severely underestimated him, and can barely process the orgasm that rips through you when he presses a hand onto your lower belly, “‘m cumming, fuck, ngh, don’t stop—” and you wail, fingernails clawing intensely into his tresses, torn between pushing him away and pulling him in closer. he decides to make that decision for you, stuffing himself as deep as possible to not miss a single drop, and your thighs clench against his ears.

so, gojo satoru is a shameless man. as you flood into his mouth and onto his face, grinding out your orgasm and using him as nothing but a toy for your own high— somewhere along the lines, he feels his briefs are sticky. he moans sluttily into your pussy, hips twitching incessantly as his cock shoots loads of nut into his boxers.

it feels like an eternity yet simultaneously a second when you’ve come down from your high, body twitching as gojo slows down his movements, his finger pumps gradually lessening in intensity and the kitten licks on your abused clit coming to a halt.

his face is soaked. his skin feels moist and damp, a thick air of humidity beginning to grow in the room, but he genuinely couldn’t care less. his eyes are stuck on you, limbs sprawled out limply against your bed, your chest heaving, tiny breaths coming out of your mouth.

he slides out his aching fingers, and pops them back in his mouth, tongue wrapping around his digits so eagerly, basking in your taste once more. absolutely divine,

“christ, i’d make a nasty pornstar.”

gojo won the poll. . . everybody act surprised (°_°)

[hanasnx]

" DOUBLE BUBBLE DISCO QUEEN " — katsuki bakugou.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem bratty pink!reader ノ pussy whipped bakugou ノ established relationship ノ explicit sexual content ノ p in v ノ degradation: f receiving ノ reader has pink hair and pink style.

KATSUKI BAKUGOU didn’t know what to make of you at first. He’d never admit you were intimidating, but your commitment to one color made him nauseous. Pink was everything he saw you sport, as if you couldn’t have a style outside of it. Even your hair sprouted from your scalp in a soft pink shade. Regardless of his initial apprehension, somehow he was roped into a relationship with you. Now he carries your many bags, opens doors for you, holds your hand when you start yapping too much. You annoy him, and yet he sticks with you.

He’s come to respect you, and even like you a little bit. Not that you give him any choice. He can’t be fooled by your soft appearance, you’re just as domineering as he is. You’re spoiled rotten, and high maintenance as hell. It’s taken him loads of tries to get it right, to treat you exactly how you believe you deserve to. It’s difficult—next to impossible—but you make it worth it, don’t you?

When you spread those legs, all pretty and eager for him, things go quiet. For once, things go his way. Katsuki’s never considered himself to be a pussy-driven guy until he met you. Suddenly, he’s letting you bully him into all kinds of things just for a glimpse of that kitty. He’d feel shame if his mouth wasn’t watering right now staring down at those drippy lips, open and waiting for him.

“C’mon, Katsu. Wanna feel you.” you whine with a coy smile to your lips, impatient and brows upturned. Just as you wiggle your hips enticingly, mean and callused hands envelope them, pinning your ass to the mattress.

Gripping the base, he feeds himself into your hole, sniffing out the give until you moan just from the stretch, and he sighs with goddamn relief. As if he’s finally getting payback for everything you throw at him. You’re a damn bitch, and you know he thinks so, but getting this tight cunt gives you a blank slate. After he’s good and fucked his fill, he’ll be ready to take your attitude again. For now, he keeps a palm over that smart mouth of yours, just so you don’t ruin the moment.

“Mmf—“ he grunts, scooping an arm under your knee to pick your leg up, giving himself a little more room inside you. “Even this princess pussy’s a brat…Clenching down on me.” he speaks through his teeth, rutting in and out to hollow out a space for himself. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, you know that?” A bold-faced lie, but you take it anyway, nodding to him. Anything to get him to keep going, anything to get him to make you loosen up so he can fuck you for real. His palm over your mouth remains, and you smell his sweet scent of sweat.

“Running me ‘round, dangling this cunt in front of me knowing I’ll do whatever for it. Tch, you’re so damn annoying.” His words in your ear sends a powerful shudder down your spine, fluttering your eyelashes. You slick, lubing up his entry as he keeps pushing in and in. Even without seeing his face, breathing hard through your nose over his third pinky knuckle, you can feel him grin next to you. You know it's wolfish just from the sound of his reply, “You like hearing that shit, huh?” His husky voice grates your ears and you whimper pitifully under his weight.

His hips increase their fervor, getting excited over the new room in your hole, setting an immediate bruising pace just to be a jerk.

“For someone so spoiled, struttin’ ‘round like you can buy anything you want with daddy’s money, you sure like gettin’ called out on it.” That's what he's here for.

@HANASNX 2024 | do not copy, plagiarize, or steal.

[reikoknshii]

Perhaps...a Date?

Francis Mosses - Milkman

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊

Its been weeks you've been working for the D.D.D. , you stayed in your work station and do the usual works.

However, those days passed, you got yourself a motivation whenever he check in. Who? The famous milkman of town, Francis Mosses.

What makes him special? Was it his tired eyes? His soft and deep voice whenever he greeted you for checking in? You have no idea..

All you know you were smitten for the exhausted milk delivery man, and you can tell if he is the real one or not. Though there are times you almost let in the doppelganger because on how they almost perfect their form of Francis, either way you never let it in or else you'll be in trouble for cause of death of the apartment residents.

This day he's one of the listed entry resident, perhaps you can have a longer conversation with him?

You inhaled and exhaled as you open the metal window to start your work.

Angus...

Izaack...

Elenois and her Twin Selene..

Where is Francis?

You grew impatient after checking in four people and making sure they're not a doppelganger. Atlas Francis arrived, Tired as usual as he shows his entry request.

Odd...

' Perhaps he's a doppelganger? '

You tapped on the window trying get his attention , when he noticed you questioned where is his Id.

"My Id? My apologies, i forgot to show my Id" He said softly and audible for us to hear from the other glass side of the window.

' looks like everything is in check..wait hold on a minute '

You decide to double check his appearance and his ID, soon enough checking his files and you found the false thing about him.

"I don't remember Francis having a Mole"

"FUCK!" Cursed the doppelganger as he grew angry. This isn't the first time they would be angry, they almost got it perfect but fail because of a small detail.

"I didn't take that into account.

You're not easy to fool.

That makes me want to devour you even more." You shivered as they banged on the protected glass window , you immediately closed the metal cover.

"Can I visit you at night while you sleep? " the doppelganger said from the other side as they continue to hit on the metal cover.

"Yeah no thanks pal, I'd let francis in but not you" you jokingly said and dialed the D.D.D. services.

"Oh? Looks like the stationed guard is hoping for a mutual feeling, ill get you next time.." You immediately regret saying that, especially to a doppelganger, Knowing full well they would use the information they know against you.

You heard the D.D.D. services arrived and waited for it to finish. Soon the cleaning services opened the metal door telling you the 'operation cleaning is done and you may resume your work.'

You felt like a stupid hopeless romantic, now the doppelganger knew you're into Francis and would take that into their account to try getting in.

Soon enough, the real Francis arrived.

He showed both of his ID and Entry request.

ID and expiration date? Good.

Entry Request? Seem Accurate enough.

Appearance? perfect.

Your hands shakes as you checked the list as Francis waited for you to speak.

"Is it all good?" He asked with his usual tired voice as you nodded your head and waited for you to open the door.

"I-" you stammer wanting to say something as Francis stared at you.

"Yes?."

"...i-i well..." You started as you scratch the back of your head. "P-perhaps a date ? Only if you're available" you asked as Francis tired eyes widen abit from your offer.

"..That wouldn't be bad, tomorrow sounds good?" He asked with a slight smile , making your face go red from the overwhelming joy and excitement.

"Y-yes! Please!" You blurt out and realized you look so eager in front of him.

"Alright, mind opening the door for me now?" Francis asked as he carried his ID and work bag , You covered your face embarrassed on how you react to his answer and opened the metal door for him.

"See you Y/n "

[freelancearsonist]

make a move on me

➔ pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x reader - 5.5k

➔ You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodeling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.

➔ Rated MA for baby’s first anal fic protected p in a and anal fingering (r receiving), age gap (reader is early 20’s, joel is 36), m masturbation/pillowhumping, daddy kink, size kink, praise kink, gentle-turned-rough sex, pet names (baby, darling, honey, good girl, baby girl, little lady), slight degradation and condescension but only in a sexy way, one use of “slut”, pussy pronouns, one (1) pussy slap, gratuitous dickscription, heavy dom/sub dynamics i mean seriously these power dynamics are out of control, tommy is a little bit of a shit (affectionate) [pls let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

➔ This reader insert character: has female anatomy and uses feminine pronouns, no name/no use of y/n, is generally able-bodied, fits in joel’s shirt and is implied to be shorter/smaller than him, is on summer break from college but no major/year is mentioned.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. Keep his hands to himself and his mind on the job. Don’t fret over the pretty little thing who’s been draping herself all over the house ever since he started demo, practically begging to be fucked.

If he had any sense, he would pack his shit and drop the job–or, at the very least, tell your parents to put you on a leash. But there’s a little part of him that might be a glutton for punishment–that savors the teasing.

The most infuriating part of the whole thing is that he can’t blame you for this whole mess. He shouldn’t be so quick to temptation. You should be able to walk around your own home in whatever you want and not have to worry about the creepy contractor getting flustered every time he looks in your general direction.

But god, you make it hard–double entendre intended. You walk around like you haven’t a care in the world because you don’t; you’re home for summer break after a grueling year at college, and you intend to savor every languid second of it. Your preferred method of savoring just happens to be wearing tight little bikinis that barely hold anything in place as you lounge out by the pool in the Texas heat, or tight leggings that hug your ass so perfectly it almost makes him jealous of the material as you curl up with a book on your couch.

Joel’s a grown man. He can keep it in his pants, no matter how badly he wants you. But you’re not exactly making it easy on him.

Really, it’s Tommy’s fault when the levee breaks. If he could keep his big mouth shut, Joel might’ve been able to maintain the thin control he had over himself. But Tommy goes and makes an off-handed comment about you one night, and that’s the beginning of the downward spiral.

The brothers are both lounging on Joel’s couch after a particularly taxing day of demolition work, beers cradled in hands and the TV droning uselessly with some movie that they’re more staring at than actually watching. It’s late, yet weary muscles are melted so comfortably into the couch that neither of them try to move even after Sarah’s gone off to bed.

Tommy’s eyes flicker over to Joel, then back to the TV. “That girl’s gon’ be trouble for us, brother.”

There’s a question mark in the grunt Joel emits, leaning forward with interest because he knows Tommy’s talking about you without any specification.

Tommy hums in confirmation and takes a sip of his Corona. “She’s always wearin’ those skimpy little outfits a’hers, and she ain’t coy. Must catch that pretty little thing starin’ at your ass even more than I catch you starin’ at hers.”

Joel plays it off as best as he can until Tommy goes home for the night with a half-assed promise to actually be on time in the morning for once. Then he goes up to his room, locks the door, and wraps himself around the spare pillow that lays against his headboard.

He tries so desperately hard not to think about the plump round curve of your ass, or the enticing way you lick your lips, or those damned little bikinis you favor. He grinds his aching cock into the soft pillowcase and tries to think about anything that isn’t you.

But he comes with a muffled growl of your name anyway, face pushed deep into the pillow and hips jerking arrhythmically.

There’s not much he can do now besides clean himself up and try not to think about how thoroughly fucked he is.

The next day is torture because he can feel your gaze lingering. He catches you checking him out on more than one occasion, and you’re brazen about it now. You can tell something has shifted, so you shift with it. Where you once would’ve flushed with heat and hurried away to your room, you now meet his heated eye contact and hold it.

Joel’s jaw hurts that night from the way it’s been hard-set and clenched all day long. He rubs over his sore temporomandibular joints with his long, thick fingers and wills himself to siphon you out from beneath his skin.

It doesn’t work.

The work helps. Laying tile is something he normally considers tedious, but it’s a welcome reprieve in your home because he can get down on his hands and knees and focus on something that isn’t you.

You see the labor he’s going through, and you appreciate it. And really, what kind of host would you be if you didn’t reward his efforts?

It starts with a pitcher of iced tea. It’s made just the way Joel likes it, with light ice and a few slices of lemon. He doesn’t know how you could possibly guess that, but it makes him want you that much more.

And then it’s cookies. Pain-stakingly handmade oatmeal raisin cookies, to be exact. You’re like something out of his most shameful domestic dreams in your cute floral-patterned apron and oven mitts as you pull the tray of cookies out of the oven, and an image of you in nothing but those mitts and that apron flickers through his mind before he can stop it.

All the while you traipse around the house like a mirage–humming along to the yacht rock that drifts from Joel’s stereo, swaying your hips in the kitchen as you put together the most delicious bologna sandwich Joel’s ever eaten, toweling off your soaking wet body after an afternoon in the pool. You’re the worst temptation Joel’s ever had to face.

It becomes his mantra. Be respectful, be respectful, be respectful.

But there’s no respect in your eyes. There’s nothing honorable about the way you bite your lip and smirk when he catches your gaze lingering on him.

Joel had one rule for himself going into this job: be respectful. But why should he have to play nice if you don’t?

And really, the whole thing is Tommy’s fault. He started it with that first comment about you, and then he goes and calls out sick (read: horribly hungover) this morning. He leaves Joel all alone with you–gives you the perfect opening to pounce.

Or, more accurately, entice Joel into pouncing on you.

He’s just setting his tool bag down, about to decide where he wants to start today, when your beautiful face pops in through the door.

“Good morning, Joel,” you say with that gorgeous smile of yours that makes his knees go a little weak. “No Tommy today?”

He nearly chokes on his own tongue when you step further into the room wearing a plaid button-up he left here earlier in the week and booty shorts so small he has to do a doubletake to make sure you’re actually wearing anything on your lower half. You look fucking good in his shirt, and suddenly all he can think about is pulling you in and bending you over the half-finished vanity–

“N-no. He’s sick,” Joel manages to choke out. He takes a deep breath to steady himself, then, “that’s my shirt, isn’t it?”

You look down and rub the time-worn fabric between your fingers like you have to think about it, like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing.

“Oh, it must’ve gotten mixed in with our laundry!” The little giggle you let out is so innocent that he almost believes you. Almost. “Here–”

You start to lift the fabric up your torso in the most tantalizingly slow fashion, and he just sits there and watches it happen. He sees the first peek of skin above the waistband of your shorts, and then your beautiful stomach, then the delicious curve of a breast–

He quickly jolts out a hand to stop you in the midst of mentally willing every single molecule in his dick to control itself. “S’alright, darlin’. You keep it. Looks better on you, anyway.”

“Okay,” you acquiesce and let the fabric drop back down into its rightful place. “Can I get you anything? Water maybe?”

He certainly could use it. His neck and face are flushed red, and there’s sweat starting to form at his temples despite the relatively cool temperature within the house.

He realizes, with startling clarity, that he’s at a precipice right now. This might be the only chance he gets to really do something about this burgeoning tension that’s spread thicker than butter between you and him. He’s got a choice to make, and it’s not going to be an easy choice.

“Sure.” It comes out a bit too high-pitched, so he clears his throat and tries again. “Sure, sweetheart. That’d be great.”

“Alright,” you say with that damned giggle again. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as you leave the room, Joel feels like he can breathe again. It’s so much easier to think straight when you’re not standing there, smiling up at him and looking so damn gorgeous.

He’s got two options, when it boils down to it: fuck you or leave you alone. And he really, really wants to take you. Make you scream his name while he pounds himself into you, fill you so full that you never completely wash him out. And you want it too, he knows you do, you’re practically begging for it.

But he promised himself he would be respectful. That he would keep his hands away from the girl that’s definitely too young and too pure for someone like him–because he knows that if has you, he’ll never be able to get enough.

There’s a very clear and obvious loophole that comes to mind now; a way he could have you without ruining you, a way you could both come out of this satisfied yet mostly intact. Joel’s never been opposed to doing the hard jobs, after all.

He’s got a condom in his wallet and KY jelly in his bag–mostly used for plumbing fittings, but it’ll do the job for this kind of pipework, too.

You come back with a glass of ice water, and his resolve slips. How the hell is he supposed to initiate this? What if you say no and think he’s disgusting? What if you tell your parents? He can’t do this, this was such a horrible idea, he–

Your touch on his back is like a gentle breeze, just a flutter of your fingers to alert him to your return. He flinches a bit at the sudden contact, but when he turns you’re still so achingly close. He can smell the agonizingly sweet aroma of your conditioner and the lotion you slather on your body after showering, and all he wants is more. He wants to wrap you around him, to inhale that scent straight from the source. His resolve is back, just like that.

He doesn’t give himself another opportunity to hesitate. He places one big, meaty palm on your cheek and wraps the other around your hand that holds the glass of ice water to steady you; and then he kisses you with such bruising force it almost knocks the wind out of you.

You moan. You actually moan the second his lips meet yours, and he knows just like that–with a startling moment of clarity–that this isn’t going to be enough. He’s going to take, and take, and take–gorge himself on you until you have nothing left to give. And the strangest thing of the whole matter is that he thinks you’ll actually enjoy his greed.

“Joel–”

“Tell me you don’t want this,” he murmurs as his lips break away from yours–so low and soft in your ear it can’t be anything but a growl. “Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop right now.”

“I want it,” you affirm.

He searches your eyes, but he finds only earnest honesty and lust. That darkness, that pure and unadulterated want is enough to make his pants tighten. “Fuck.” 

He’s so big underneath your roaming hands as he crowds you back against the long bathroom vanity. He lifts you like you’re nothing and sets you on the counter top; he slots himself between your legs and there’s an actual stretch in your muscles to accommodate the width of his hips. One of his wide palms slips behind your head and his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging a little bit to angle your head just the way he wants it. It’s messy and frenzied and desperate–your hands gliding over tee shirt-covered muscle, his tugging your (his) shirt up over your stomach.

“Was starting to think you weren’t interested.” Your voice is heavy and breathy as he breaks away to tug the shirt over your head, casting it aside to lie forgotten on the floor.

“I’ve been tryna convince myself m’not,” he kisses into your neck. “Didn’t work.”

With a sudden roll of his hips, he has you gasping into his neck. He can’t be more than half-hard, but that bulge is formidable. Thick and straining and… suddenly you can’t focus on anything except getting him out of those tight jeans to see what you’re working with.

Your hand just barely fits around him. He’s thick and flushed, getting harder with each passing second as he scatters feather-light kisses over your neck and shoulders. He muffles a groan into your neck as you slowly pump his length–you think he’s seven, maybe eight inches at best guess. The tip of him is flushed red once you get his uncut skin out of the way, and it makes your mouth water. There’s a slight upward curve to him and a long, prominent vein that runs down the left side. It’s porn star material–you didn’t know real people had dicks like this.

“Joel… Jesus, that’s gonna be a tight fit.”

“Oh, don’t worry darlin’,” he hums, thumb ghosting over your clit in a way that makes your entire body jolt. “It ain’t goin’ in there.”

There’s nothing but pure excitement in your voice, despite the anxious gulp that tracks down your throat. “Where…”

“Flip over f’me.”

You follow his instruction with a sort of morbid curiosity, hopping down from the counter before folding yourself over it.

You can feel his eyes on you, as he takes in your willingness. It’s like you’re on display for him, for his appraisal. You’ve still got shorts and a bra on, yet you’ve never felt more exposed.

It’s almost like he can sense your mind swirling–maybe it’s because his is prone to do the same. He sets a gentle hand on your back and smooths it down your spine as he crowds up against you–you can feel the press of his exposed cock against the curve of your ass, and it makes you shiver.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” he murmurs as he folds over you, caging you in with the delicious weight of his body. His lips trace along the curve of your jaw and down your neck as he speaks. “But I made myself this little promise that I wouldn’t fuck you. You got me actin’ so unprofessional, honey.”

You whine at the sincerity in his voice–all you’ve wanted since the day he started was for him to have you folded over and at his mercy like this. 

“You can fuck me,” you whine earnestly. “It’s okay, I promise. Won’t tell.”

“Mmm, I know. You’re too good a girl to go gettin’ me in trouble over somethin’ like this,” he hums–you can hear the condescension in his voice even as he praises you, and it makes your cunt clench around nothing. “But with all the teasin’ you been doin’... don’t rightly know that you deserve to be fucked.”

“Please–”

“However,” he continues, landing a light smack to your ass in retaliation for your interruption, “might be willin’ to take you anyway, with some conditions. Out of the goodness of my heart.”

He pauses to let you ask, “What conditions?”

And then he pauses again, asking his own question this time. Is he really going to go through with this? But he’s spent the better part of two weeks staring at your ass, and you’ve spent the better part of two weeks putting it on display for him. It’s like you’ve been silently asking him all this time to take it.

His hand slides down from where it rests on your spine, over your tailbone to where he’s been thinking about all this time. He feels the way your muscles tense up even through your shorts, and it sends a thrill he can’t describe coursing through his veins.

“You ever taken someone here before?”

“N-no.” He feels it again as his other hand comes to soothingly rub your hip–that excited-yet-nervous flutter of muscle. You haven’t run away screaming yet, and that’s the biggest motivator he could have to keep going.

“I think you ought to let me. As a thank you, for puttin’ up with all your play,” he growls into your ear.

It’s fucking dirty, the idea of letting a man you hardly know take you in such a taboo way. It’s even dirtier how fucking excited the idea has you.

“You say no right now and I’ll drop it,” he murmurs so sweetly. “Don’t ever have to talk about this again.”

You’re shaking your head before he’s even finished talking–a sly smirk spreading over your lips as you grind back against him hard enough to make him choke on a moan.

“It’s only right,” you affirm. “Gotta make it up to you for how naughty I’ve been.’

His eyes flash dangerously as he grinds his cock against you again, smearing precome against the flimsy fabric of your shorts. “Atta fuckin’ girl.”

He has your bottoms and panties down around your ankles in a flash, and he actually groans at the sight of your sticky cunt all puffy and wet and on display for him.

He can’t resist the urge to swipe a finger through your folds, delighting in the string of shiny arousal that connects his finger to your core when he pulls away. “She wants it so bad, hmm? Such a shame she ain’t gettin’ any.”

It tugs a moan from your throat, especially when he drags as much slick as he can up to circle your tightest hole. He feels the way you flutter with apprehension, and he leans back down to kiss the corner of your jaw.

“Gonna get you nice and ready, I promise. M’not gonna hurt you, baby girl.”

“Thank you, da–” You almost lost yourself there for a second–almost laid your whole hand of cards out on the table for him to see. You try not to get flustered over the slip–you simply clear your throat and try again. “Thank you, Joel.” But you aren’t nearly as smooth as you hope to be.

In a flash Joel’s free hand is lifting your head, forcing you to look into his deep brown eyes. They’re so much darker than normal, and it only serves to make you wetter.

“What’d you call me?”

“J-Joel.”

His hand slips down to your throat and gives it a warning squeeze–his jaw is set, you know he isn’t playing. “Try again, and tell the truth this time.”

“D… daddy.”

You try to hide your face, to cower in shame, but he won’t let you. He smashes his lips to yours at the exact second his first finger probes that tight, waiting entrance.

“Good girl,” he murmurs as he slowly breaches you, using your own slick to guide the way. “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You can’t do anything but gasp, hands clutching for dear life to the edge of the counter. This feels different, and not in the way you were expecting it to. It’s tight, sure, and it feels foreign, but it also feels so much better than you ever could’ve expected it to. The subtle stretch around his thick finger is addicting.

Joel’s jaw drops at the expression on your face; you already look so thoroughly fucked-out, and he’s barely even started. “Fuck.You like this, hmm? Like feelin’ daddy’s fingers gettin’ you ready for his big cock?”

The only response he gets is a wrecked little whimper, and he props your chin up again to meet his heated gaze. “Talk to me. Gotta talk to me, tell me how you’re feelin’, or I’m gonna stop.”

“Fuck!” It’s shriller than you want it to be and you would feel pathetic if you weren’t so thoroughly overwhelmed with this new sensation. “Don’t stop daddy!”

“Feels good, yeah? How long has daddy’s little slut wanted to try this?”

But there’s no way you can be expected to answer, not when he’s adding another finger to the onslaught. Not when your legs are already shaking and you’re thinking about just how many fingers he’s going to have to use to get you ready for the massive cock you can feel throbbing against your thigh.

He retracts just as suddenly as he started, and a needy little whine escapes from your throat involuntarily.

He can’t help chuckling as he reaches for the bottle of KY jelly he’d dug out of his bag while you were getting him water. It feels like it’s been years since you left the room on that little errand for him–definitely not the barely ten minutes it’s actually been.

“Relax, baby girl. I’m comin’ right back.”

You feel the cool drizzle of the water-based substance over your hole and it forces another whine from your throat. It’s met with his thick fingers again, spreading the jelly over your hole before plunging two in knuckle-deep.

“Atta girl.” His voice is thick and sweet as honey as he slowly works his fingers, thrusting and scissoring at an achingly slow pace. “Doin’ so good f’me.”

“Daddy–”

“I know,” he coos. “I know, it’s so much, isn’it?”

All you can manage to do is nod your head, arms shaking under the strain of holding yourself upright. He sees the way your limbs tremble and he adds a third finger just to be extra cruel–although he steadies you by grabbing your hip firmly with his free hand, keeping you in place as he fucks you open with his fingers.

Everything is so hot. There’s a sticky sheen of sweat covering your forehead and your chest; you can feel your own slick dripping down your thighs.

And then his free hand drops down to thumb at your clit, and everything twists in your gut so fast it nearly gives you whiplash.

Within seconds you’re coming–no pretense, no warning. It explodes white-hot from your belly and sweeps through you to the tips of your fingers and toes with flash flood speed. One second there’s nothing more than pleasant anticipation–the next, you’re shaking and convulsing and sobbing Joel’s name as you fight with every cell in your body to remain upright.

He does his part to work you through it, thumb swiping even circles on your sensitive clit, pulling his fingers from you to pin you in place on the counter so he can continue working you through it.

“I know, I know,” he coos so sweetly in your ear over the sound of your moans and cries. “You’re doin’ so good baby, let yourself have it.”

It’s minutes before you’re breathing normally again–your legs are cramping from trying so desperately to support your shaky weight. Joel’s hands are soothing you the whole time once he lets up the onslaught on your clit; it’s like he’s mapping you, tracing over every dip and curve so tenderly you could almost forget what this encounter really is.

“Doin’ okay?” He husks into your ear–and then he’s folding himself over you again, and you can feel the insistent press of his hard cock against the curve of your ass.

For some reason, that’s what really makes it sink in. That’s the moment you realize that this is actually going to happen–that you want it to happen. Joel’s about to take something from you that no one has ever taken before, and you want him to. You’re offering it willingly, even.

You hum in response and buck your hips back, giving him a delicious taste of friction that pulls a ground from his throat. “Mhm. I’m ready, daddy.”

“Fuck, that’s my girl.” He gives your hip a light pat before pulling away for a moment, and you somehow have the presence of mind to jump up on the deep countertop because you know your legs won’t be able to support you through what’s about to happen.

There’s a smile on his handsome face when he turns back towards you, lube and condom in hand. “That how you want it, baby?”

Despite everything that’s already happened, you feel so much more exposed like this. You’re completely naked, and he’s fully clothed with his pants shoved down just enough to free his dick. Even as you spread your legs to admit him between your thighs, you feel shy. And he senses it, the slight apprehension in your gaze, because his smile softens even further; he sets the lube and condom down on the counter next to you so he can grasp the collar of his worn t-shirt and tug it up over his head.

He’s beautiful for a nearly forty-year-old man, you think. He’s firm and toned, but there’s a softness about him that you can’t help admiring, especially around his belly. Your eyes eagerly lap up the soft curve of his tummy, following the tantalizing promise of his treasure trail to his cock, hard and aching for you. The ruddy, flushed tip is weeping for you; you don’t know that you’ve ever seen someone so turned on before, and it’s a heady rush of power.

He chuckles as he sees your hungry eyes taking him in–he raises one big hand to cup your chin and pull your gaze up to meet his. “You’re so pretty, baby, look so good spread out f’me like this. You sure you’re ready f’this?”

“Fuck yes,” you say with an alluring little wiggle of your hips, and that’s more than enough for him.

He pulls his bottom lip between even rows of shiny white teeth as he rolls the condom down over his length, and it’s actually intimidating like this. He’s so big and imposing and it makes your legs want to close, but–

“M’gonna go slow, okay?” He vows, voice gentle as his big, brown eyes look into yours. His fingers wrap tightly around the half-used tube of KY jelly, and he leans down to kiss you when he sees the nervous gulp that bobs your throat. “Gonna be real gentle, I promise. You tap out at any time and we’re done, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you affirm, and you feel a lot better. As out of the blue as this is, as little as you really know Joel, you can tell he’s being sincere. You trust him; you know he won’t hurt you.

The first press of his aching tip against your hole is enough to make you choke on a gasp. He’s big, and even with all of his attentive prep work to get you ready for him it’s a tight fit. You can tell it’s affecting him, too. His eyes flutter shut and he bites down hard on his bottom lip, and you can tell that he’s fighting with all his strength not to just shove himself deep inside you. You appreciate his restraint more than words can convey, so you don’t even try; you hook your arms around his neck and pull him in for a deep, messy, desperate kiss instead. His tongue licks eagerly into your mouth as he eases his hips further and further towards yours, and it’s a nice distraction from the nearly overwhelming stretch of your muscle trying to accommodate his girth.

He shudders when his hips finally meet yours, cock stuffed to the hilt into your ass. “God damn baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight. You doin’ okay?”

You whine at the first roll of his hips, nodding your head rapidly because words won’t come. It’s such a foreign sensation, being stretched and breached like this. Not unpleasant necessarily, but so brain-scramblingly different that all you can do is dig your nails into his strong, broad shoulders and hold on for dear life as he actually starts to fuck into you.

It’s nasty, and you’ve never been so wet in your life. You hear the sticky squelch of lube as he thrusts his hips, shoving his cock deeper than you imagined possible. Your own wetness seeps from your neglected cunt and drenches him, dripping down around his cock and wetting the dense curls at the apex of his sex.

“Shit baby, you’re takin’ daddy’s cock so well,” he whines breathlessly; one arm hooks under your knee so he can spread you open a bit wider for him, and then the other hand returns to your puffy, arousal swollen clit.

You make what has to be the most high-pitched sound you’ve ever made as his index and middle fingers start a torturously slow pace on the little bud. “Fuck daddy!”

“I know,” he coos–you think that soft, breathy, Southern twang is going to actually put you in your grave. “I know, you wanna come, dontcha? It’s okay baby, daddy’s gonna make you come all over his cock just the way you need.”

His hips pick up the pace in time with his fingers, and all you can do is lay there limply like a ragdoll. The pleasure is so much different than what you’re used to, but it’s good. It’s amazing, the feeling of him balls deep in your guts in tandem with his ministrations on your clit, in a way you never imagined it could be.

“Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me,” he growls, hitching your leg a bit higher over his hip so he can thrust even deeper. “Fuck, m’not gonna last long like this. You’re gonna make daddy come so hard in this tight little ass.”

His words are accentuated with a little smack to the side of your ass, and it makes you moan louder still. Your head rolls back as he picks up the pace of his fingers, swirling hard and messy circles with reckless abandon. He’s not trying to prolong it anymore–he’s going for the kill.

“Fuck daddy!” Your hands scrabble for purchase on his smooth, freckled skin as he pounds harder into you. “W-want it, please, want you to come in my ass–”

“Gonna give it to you, impatient girl,” he growls deep in his chest. “You gimme one first.”

Your entire body jolts when he brings his hand down on your sensitive cunt before groaning at the way your arousal sticks to his hand and makes his fingers shine.

“She wants t’be stuffed so full, doesn’t she?” He purrs, fingers dancing so fucking teasingly around your fluttering cunt that it makes your eyes water. “Bet she’d love to be chock full’a cock right now.”

“Joel–”

“Now, now, baby, no whinin’. It’s unbecomin’ for such a sweet little lady,” he grunts, and the condescension dripping from his tone is almost enough to make you come on its own. “You’re gonna take what I give you and be grateful for it, aintcha?”

“Yesyesyesplease–”

His fingers have barely returned to your clit before you’re coming again. This one is even more powerful than before–a hurricane instead of a flash flood. Your entire body trembles with the ebbing flow of pleasurable waves–the words you’re panting aren’t even discernible English anymore.

The way you clench and flutter around him in your own pleasure pulls him over the edge faster than anything ever has before. He comes hard, chest clenching hard around his breath, cock twitching more violently than anything you’ve ever felt before as he spills his load into the condom.

It’s a long, breathless moment before he pulls himself from the vice-like grip you have around his dick. He pulls out with a deep, long groan–it makes you giggle, because it’s the most over-dramatic sound you’ve ever heard in your life.

There’s a beat, and then he starts laughing, too. At the sweet sound of your laugh, at the way he feels like he just ran a marathon, at the absolute absurdity of this whole thing. His laughter is so sweet and gut-deep and infectious, and it only serves to make you laugh harder. For a good few moments it’s just you and Joel, half naked, panting and sweaty, doubled over in laughter.

And then the bathroom door swings open and Tommy barges in. 

“I’m feelin’ a helluva lot better after sleepin’ in, what’s so funny–” He stops dead in his tracks; he sees you naked and spread out on the counter and Joel disheveled and sweating. Neither of you are laughing very much anymore as you both scramble to cover yourselves up.

Tommy quirks a brow, a smirk spreading across his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between you and Joel. “Well, well, well. What have we here?”

You don’t know how to answer when you’re so mortified, so you do the only thing you can think of–you dart out of the room and down the hall to the safety of your bedroom as fast as your shaky legs can carry you.

➔ beta: @fhatbhabie dividers: @saradika-graphics

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[koobiie]

bestowing my highest honor as an artist to ffxv (drawing the characters in fun outfits)

thoughts under the cut

RREAAAGHHHH SO EXCITED TO BE DONE WITH THIS!!!!! it took me forevarrrr but i soldiered through as an act of love. now excuse me. yap time

OKAY SO the concept behind this was originally specific fashion subcultures for everyone!l ike noct emo ignis dark academia etc. but then decided i didnt want to pigeonhole it all and just freestyled outfits i thought would look nice on everyone

noct - i do think noct would still be emo-ish but also opt for comfy baggy stuff a lot. something you could just fall asleep in on the spot. note the details of bass pro shop shirt (of course) XV necklace, little moon + stars accents, carbuncle + fish keychains. i also wanted his metal band logo shirt to spell LUCIS but i forgor some letters but its not very readable anyways

ignis - ignit ooohghh ignos ignaurs. sorry i made him serve so much cunt it will happen again. i drew him first cause that kind of inspired this whole thing i love him so bad if i didnt draw it id explode. not much detail to note except his collar pins are like his double blade thingies

luna - lunaaa the concept was “clean girl aesthetic” idk if that happened but im actually really happy with how it came out! might be my favorite of the bunch just because she looks so pretty and happy. your honor she should have been able to just be a normal girl and just. chill

prompto - prompotoooo i had trouble picking his vibe!!! my first thought was techwear?? because weeheeeehee he loves tech and well... you know... but then i realized i didnt really like the look of anything i saw + it was so bulky and dark and serious for him! ending up going with some more youthful and baggy. i was considering something more loud and colorful but ended up not going with it. i feel like in canon he'd be too nervous to have such a flashy fit and would want to just look "cool" to fit in with the boys lol. itty bitty details here - chocobo keychain, pompompurin and bi miku buttons, and his lanyard is kings knight themed! i also thought it was funny to write LUCIS on his shirt like you know those shirts that just say BROOKLYN or TOKYO or SAN FRANCISCO and thats it. thats what its like

gladio - okay i know this is going to sound like a lie but im not horny for gladio like at all, hes my least favorite, i think he's just alright. but also i KNOW in my heart of hearts that he would LOVE being a leather daddy and so i had to make it happen. main detail to note here is that his tank top has the motifs of a cup noodle! i didnt know what else to add cause you know.. hes the cup noodle guy.. but also i didnt want it to be so in your face about it with a big as logo so kept it subtle!

(side note the leather daddy gave me an idea for a post where its like noct and prom go to a gay bar all nervous but then they run into gladio and its like "p: GLADIO YOURE GAY?" "n: nevermind that PLEASE dont tell ignis we snuck out" and then ignis walks up and theyre all like WHAT THE FUCK!!!! caption would be "the gang finds out theyre all bisexual." probably wont draw it but i think its very funny lol)

iris - iris my sweetheart.... definitely leaned into the scene vibes here and also that one image of the blonde emo anime girl. details here - of course the moogle big ass backpack and keychain (can you tell i love keychains), but also her buttons are an iris (the flower) and also a crown with hearts (haha symbolism)

anyways oh god i didnt mean to write an essay down here. usually i keep this in the tags but this time i just had Too Much To Say. can you tell i put a lot of thought and love into this . anwyays. *walks off into the sunset and fuckig dies*

[munson-blurbs]

Summary: Your lab partner, Eddie Munson, might be the most irritating person in your life. But when he unexpectedly comes to your rescue at a party, his chivalry is too hard to resist.

A collaboration with the absurdly talented @corroded-hellfire 🥰

WC: 3.8k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fem!Reader, enemies-to-lovers, drinking, Billy Hargrove being a douche, fighting, blood, praise, fingering, accidental voyeurism if you squint, unprotected p in v, fluff because Red & I are some corny motherfuckers

Thank you @blueywrites for your idea that upped the spice 🌶️🌶️ Divider credit to @saradika

“Okay, so we need to mix the magnesium with hydrochloric acid,” you start, carefully measuring each substance and pouring them into a test tube, “and then we light the splint and see if it creates a squeaking noise.”

“Right,” Eddie says, not bothering to hide his disinterest. “And, uh, why are we doing this, exactly?”

You clench your jaw and exhale through your nose. Eddie getting under your skin is bad enough, but if he knew how much he annoyed you, he’d likely double down. 

“We’re testing for the presence of oxygen,” you say with as much patience as you can muster. “And you need to wear safety goggles.”

He rolls his eyes and mimics you in a high-pitched and highly unflattering tone. “You need to wear safety goggles.” 

He reaches for the matches, but you pull them away before he can grab them. 

“I’m serious.”

Eddie scoffs. “Please. We’re not even blowing shit up. Besides, I have a gig tonight, and I’m not getting on stage with goggle marks on my face.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure that’ll be the difference between your shitty band getting a record deal or not.”

“Whatever.” But he begrudgingly snaps on the protective gear, and you hand over the matchbox and the splint. 

“So just li—seriously?” You watch, dumbfounded, as Eddie strikes a match and uses it to light the cigarette perched between his lips. Where had he kept it this whole time?

“What?” He asks with a smirk. “There’s, like, a million of these left. I’ll use the next one for the experiment thingy.”

He doesn’t get that far; Ms. O’Donnell marches over and yanks out the cigarette, snuffs it in the tray, and orders him to the principal’s office. 

Leaving you to complete your work alone. Again. 

Last week, it was because he’d kicked his feet up on the table and took a swig of Mountain Dew from a beaker. The week before, he’d blown up a rubber glove like a balloon and popped it right in Jason Carver’s ear, causing him to shatter a test tube on the ground. 

You often felt more like a babysitter than a lab partner. 

What you needed was a night out, so the party Steve Harrington was throwing tonight could not come any sooner. It wasn’t your usual scene, but all of your friends were going, and it certainly beat raiding your parents’ liquor cabinet alone. 

Music blasts from an overpriced stereo system as you pull up to Steve’s house. Barely audible over the reverberating bass is the sound of drunken cheering as someone does a kegstand. You sigh, plaster a smile on your face, and make a beeline for the punch bowl. 

Heather Holloway ladles jungle juice into an already pink-stained cup; you’re grateful for at least one kind face in a sea of Hawkins High students and recent graduates. 

“Heather, hi!” You smile at her, plucking a new cup from the stack and filling it nearly to the brim. “How’s college?”

Heather takes a sip, wrinkling her nose at the vodka’s pungency. “Way better than high school,” she says with a laugh. “I’m taking an intro to biochem, and my lab partner actually shows up.”

You raise your glass in a mock toast. “Maybe you could take mine. He’s more trouble than he’s worth.”

She laughs. “Can’t be worse than when I was stuck with The Freak last year. He never showed up to class.” 

“Really?”

“Mhm. And Ginny Anderson was his lab partner during his first senior year, and he pulled the same shit.”

Lucky them, you think wryly. Guess he decided to be a star student for his third go-around. 

Frat boy-style cheering echoes from behind you and when you spin around you see Billy Hargrove strutting through the crowd, towards the kitchen. He throws a wink to a few girls and slaps five to one of the guys on the basketball team. If he’s coming into the kitchen, it’s the last place you want to be.

The living room is smoky and loud, but it beats getting stuck next to the booze with a jackass like Hargrove. Every thump of the bass has the little sips of alcohol you’ve taken sloshing around in your stomach. It’s hard to tell where you’re going or even what direction you’re going with so many people, so you just keep wading through groups until finally you come upon some space to breathe. 

Unfortunately, this space brings you right back to where you began: in front of the kitchen. Just in time for Billy to sidle up next to you, the scent of whiskey and tangy cologne wafting off of him in waves. 

“Where have you been all my life?” he asks, as if it’s supposed to be charming instead of nausea-inducing. 

“Was better a second ago,” you mumble, not caring if he hears you or not. But when you move to step away from the blonde, the smarmy look slips from his too-pretty face and is replaced with a mask of set determination. 

Strong fingers curl around your wrist, just tight enough to cause the barest amount of pain. The audacity and possessiveness are what piss you off the most, though. 

A gentle tug of your arm does nothing to free it from his grip, so you try a little harder. Still nothing.

“Let go,” you seethe. The words are biting, but you’re a chihuahua up against a doberman. 

Somehow, above your pulse pounding in your ears and the music thumping throughout the large house, you hear the distinct clang of a metal lunchbox snap shut and heavy boots on polished wood floors headed in your direction. 

You sense Eddie over your shoulder before he appears in your peripheral vision. A moment hangs in the air where he and Billy stare at one another, and you watch them both, unsure of what is about to happen. 

Eddie steels his jaw, unmoving. “Let her go,” he says, a slight rasp in his tone. 

The jock remains unfazed, unthreatened. “Shouldn’t you be worshiping Satan’s asshole, Freak?”

“Shouldn’t you be worshiping Tommy’s? Or does he only worship yours?”

A cacophony of laughter stirs up an anger inside of Billy. He grabs Eddie by the jacket collar and slams him against the counter. “If you don’t fuck off in the next three seconds, I’ll kick you ass so hard that your uncle won’t even be able to identify your body.”

Eddie smirks. “One…two—”

Billy’s fist crashes into Eddie’s cheek with a sickening crack. Eddie returns with a punch to Billy’s abdomen, but not before his face sustains a few more hits. 

Shock loosens its grasp on you and you call out for help, knowing it’s no use getting in the middle of their brawl. Someone—Tommy H, maybe—is chanting “fight!” and it takes all of your willpower not to clock him yourself. 

Billy finally lets up when Eddie falls to the floor, clutching his stomach in agony. “Maybe next time, you’ll mind your fucking business,” he spits through his split lip—one of the few punches Eddie managed to land. 

His smarminess is enough to provoke a reflexive response in you. As he gloats, you deliver a swift kick square to his crotch. A choked whine slips from Billy’s parted lips as he doubles over. You snort a laugh to yourself thinking about how the dumbbell is probably going to spin this story so he doesn’t seem like any less than the King of Hawkins High in front of his fellow party-goers. He’ll never be able to take away your satisfaction at using a pair of your nicest shoes to crush Billy’s balls though. 

Eddie is still on the ground, wiping blood that’s trickled out of his right nostril onto the back of his sleeve. Turning your back to Billy, you bend down and offer your hand to Eddie. He accepts it with a weak smile and you help him to his feet. 

“Are you okay?” you ask.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Eddie says with a shrug and a sad smile that knots your stomach. He’s been hurt worse than this?

Unable to follow that train of thought, you reach out and slip your hand into Eddie’s. You give a small tug and he readily follows you down the hall of the Harrington home, the thumping beat of the bass becoming softer the further you walk. 

In the back corner of the house you manage to find a bathroom that’s not occupied by someone puking the mixture of alcohol they’ve consumed or a couple hooking up, going at it like wild animals. This one looks like it’s been hardly touched all night and you click the lock into place once you and Eddie are inside. 

Eddie takes a seat on the closed toilet lid, his calloused fingers coming up to gently touch the gash right across his chin. He winces at the tenderness of the wound while you crouch down and look in the cabinets underneath the sink for a first aid kit. 

“Ah, here we are,” you announce as you pull out the small white box with the red cross on it. On your knees, you shuffle over towards Eddie and slide the kit along with you. “It’s not so bad,” you tell Eddie as you dab some rubbing alcohol on a small swath of gauze. “The face just bleeds more because—”

“Because the blood vessels in the face are so close to the skin,” Eddie finishes for you. 

“Wow,” you say, raising your eyebrows at him. “I’m impressed.”

“We are in the same science class, you know,” Eddie teases with a playful smirk. It quickly turns to a grimace though as you begin to dab at his wounds. 

“I thought I recognized you from the seat next to mine,” you joke back. There’s silence for a few moments while you clean off all the excess blood and bandage up the open cuts. “Why are you suddenly interested in science this year? I mean, I was talking to Heather before and she said you never showed up when you were her lab partner. So, what? Renewed attempt to graduate?”

“Uh,” Eddie says with an awkward chuckle. He avoids your eyes and rubs his hand along the back of his neck. “Something like that.”

“Got the hots for O’Donnell?”

He belly laughs at that thought, grimacing at the pain it causes. “Fuck, no!” He shakes his head. “She looks like a walrus and a naked mole rat had some sort of freaky baby.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Ew.”

“You were the one who suggested I’m into her,” Eddie rebutted, and fairly so. 

“I didn’t make you compare her to a—”

A loud crash stops you mid-sentence, followed by someone drunkenly lamenting, “not the punch!”

“We’re probably safer hiding out in here for a bit,” Eddie says softly, “unless you want to volunteer to clean up whatever mess they made.”

“I think cleaning up your mess is more than enough for tonight.” To punctuate your point, you swipe a clean piece of gauze over a small cut you’d previously missed. “Besides, I wanna know what’s suddenly got you showing up to class.”

Eddie’s eyes roam your body far more conspicuously than he’d like, but the attention fills you with a newfound warmth. “You.” He snorts out a little laugh, startling you slightly. “Fuck, I’m drunker than I thought.”

“W-Wait.” You fight off the embarrassment that accompanies your stuttered words. “I’m the reason …?”

He noticed your reaction, mistaking disbelief for discomfort. “Does that make things…does that make you feel weird?” Nerves marr whatever joking tone he was trying to convey. 

All you can do is shake your head. “No. It makes things…good.” Good insufficiently describes your reaction, though part of you waits for the other shoe to drop. It’s a prank, his way of getting back at you for—

A hooked finger in the belt loop of your jeans snags your attention, Eddie gently tugging you closer to him. “And now?”

“Still good. Better, actually.” Resting one hand on his sore chest, you lean in and add, “will it hurt if I kiss you?”

“Don’t care.”

Despite him not caring, you certainly care if you’re going to hurt him or not. Your mouth moves slowly towards his, lips just barely brushing against each other as your breaths co-mingle. It’s not enough for Eddie though, and he presses his lips against yours with more force, stealing the air from your lungs as your body melts against his. The back bathroom at the Harrington household is not something you would’ve considered romantic before, but right now it’s the only place you want to be. Tucked away in the corner with Eddie, trading explorative kisses as your hands roam each other's bodies. 

Your body buzzes when Eddie’s tongue sweeps against yours, heat immediately pooling between your legs. 

Instinctively, gingerly, you press your torso to his, one trembling finger hooking into his belt loop. A moan escapes you, soft but saturated with need. Eddie clocks it immediately. 

“Mhm.” His smile threatens to break the kiss. “That’s it.” 

You feel the button of your jeans unfasten, the sound of unzipping music to your ears. His hand slips between the denim and the newly exposed lace of your panties, grin widening when it reaches the damp patch. 

Eddie’s hardness strains against the confines of his own pants, and you rush to relieve that ache. His exhale when you touch him—over his boxers, but not as gently as he touches you—makes you even wetter. 

“Gotta have you.” He toys with your waistband but doesn’t explore further until he hears your ‘yes,’ pathetic and whimpering but consent nonetheless. “Good girl,” he growls, sending a shiver coursing through you. 

The pads of his fingertips find your clit without struggle, rubbing precise circles over it that have you groaning his name. “Every time you say my name from now on,” he murmurs, “I’m gonna think about this.”

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” It’s part taunt and part truth; only his name is on your mind. Your back arches against the sink, porcelain digging into your skin, but you barely notice. 

One strong hand reaches for the strap of your tank top, pulling it down so harshly that the fabric tears. He mutters a soft swear, tugs the rest of the shirt down until your bra is completely visible. 

“Fuckin’ perfect.” Eddie kisses your chest, groaning when the sensation of his lips causes you to squeeze his throbbing cock. “Careful, or I’ll—”

He’s interrupted by the door swinging wide open, Billy and Heather wrapped around each other in drunken lust. Billy’s eyes widen, their blueness dulled from the liquor, when he sees that the bathroom is currently occupied—and by whom. 

The intrusion startles you as well, but you’re much quicker at recovering than the inebriated asshole gaping at you from the doorway.

“Get the fuck out!” you hiss. 

Heather turns her head to look in your direction, as if she hadn't been aware there was anyone else in the bathroom until you’d spoken up. It’s clear she’s had quite a few more drinks since you’d seen her in the kitchen.

Whether it’s the alcohol, the shock, or his own stupidity, Billy doesn’t make a move towards leaving, let alone tug Heather along with him. The blonde shakes a few curls out of his eyes, causing Heather to reach up and twirl one around her finger.

“Jesus Christ, is this douche even capable of hearing a woman if she isn’t moaning his name?” Eddie mutters to you before rounding on the drunken pair and raising his voice. “The lady said out. Now.” 

Something finally snaps Billy out of his dazed state and he curls his lip, giving the two of you a half-hearted sneer. He pulls Heather out of the doorway so quickly that it looks like she gets whiplash as he slams the door closed behind them. 

Eddie leans over and locks the door, giving the knob a twist for good measure. “Do me a favor, honey?” His voice is a ribbon of silk down your spine. “Turn around so you’re facing the mirror.”

You do as he says, hands planted on the sink ledge. Your shirt is torn, make-up smudged, and you’re out of breath from the impromptu make out session. Ducking your head, you’re determined to avoid your reflection until tobacco-scented words tickle your ear from behind. 

“Be a good girl and look at yourself while I fuck you.” Eddie moves your thong over, exposing your pussy, and exhales with a tremble. His middle finger glides over your folds before pushing into you slowly. “You got wetter when I called you a good girl, didn’t you?”

“Mhm,” you manage, stifling a moan as his ring finger joins his middle. 

A teasing pout graces Eddie’s lips. “Such a good girl. And only for me.”

“Only for you,” you echo. 

He taps the head of his cock on your bare ass, leaving drops of pre-cum in his wake. “Gotta be inside you,” he growls. “Gotta fuckin’ feel what a good girl you are.”

The sensation of his cock dragging down along your folds mixed with him knowing just what to say to get you squirming has you dropping your head forward with a soft whimper. A strong, calloused hand quickly finds its way up to your throat though, and presses with just enough pressure to remind you that you’re supposed to be looking at yourself in the mirror. 

When you lift your head, you’re greeted by the sight of a smirking Eddie behind you in the mirror.

“Atta girl,” he praises. 

At a torturously slow pace, Eddie begins to push inside of you. A guttural groan slips past your gritted teeth as he stretches your walls, the pleasure causing you to curl your toes inside your shoes.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes out before pulling his hips back. “Pussy’s even tighter than I imagined.”

The mental image of Eddie laying in bed with his hand wrapped around his cock, thinking of you is enough to make your knees weak. They can’t buckle too much; Eddie has one hand gripping you tight and the other trailing down to your clit. Each deliberate circle is punctuated by a thrust, pleasure from every angle. 

He kisses your shoulder blade, groaning when you tighten around him. “Look at yourself,” he growls his reminder. “Look how beautiful you are, all fucked out like this.”

You catch another glimpse; this time, you see Eddie’s lust-filled expression along with your own. He’s even further gone than you are, so focused on burying himself within you to care about the sweat matting his bangs to his forehead or the way his teeth dig into his lower lip. 

“Say it.” His voice is half-commanding, half-pleading. 

“S-Say what?” Each word is a struggle, your orgasm building to a peak you’d never before reached. 

“That you’re beautiful.” He tugs you even closer to him, and there’s no mistaking his dominance for anything else. “So—goddamn—beautiful.”

You follow his order without a second thought. “I’m b-beautiful, all fucked out like th-this.” 

Eddie’s hips snap against the plush of your ass at a frenetic pace. “That’s it; that’s my good girl.” Not a good girl, you note. His good girl. 

One hand atop his, desperate for as much contact as possible, you moan: “your good girl.”

“Oh, fuck.” Everything is you—you and him together, and it drives him to the edge. “You…you gotta…’m so close,” he rambles. 

“Me, too.” Panting breaths mingle with his groans, your walls tightening around him as you come. It’s so much, so intense, and tears cloud your vision resulting from the overwhelming bliss. “Eddie, oh, Eddie.”

He spills into you with a cry of your name. “H-ohmygod, holy fuckin’ shit.” His thrusts don’t stop until every last drop of his cum is inside you. 

Eddie’s chest presses against your back, but he’s careful not to put all his weight on you. The feeling of him so solid and warm behind lulls you from pure ecstasy to warm contentment, not wanting to move out from beneath him. 

A few silent moments pass before Eddie pulls out of you, both of you disappointed by the loss of contact. But Eddie’s hands refuse to let you go entirely, gently running over your hips and up your sides. The touch is featherlight and sends a comforting tingle throughout your limbs.

“You with me?” Eddie’s worn-out voice asks you.

“Mhmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. “Don’t wanna move.”

Eddie gives a husky chuckle in reply before he stands up, reluctantly taking a step away from you. Your own muscles whine in protest as you stand straight, the tell-tale signs of a good fucking already settling in. 

The two of you begin to clean up, each slipping back into articles of clothing along the way. One question prickles the back of your mind in the quiet room and you know your brain won’t be able to rest until it has an answer.

“Uh, Eddie?” you ask once you’ve cleaned up your smeared lipstick.

“Yeah?”

“Are you still going to come to class? Or, you know, now that you’ve had me you won’t have a reason to anymore?” You try to hide the insecurity in your tone but there was no mistaking the slight edge your words had. 

Eddie pauses mid-buckling his belt and gives you a frown. 

“Sweetheart,” Eddie says and the nickname alone already has your engine revving for a round two. “I wouldn’t sit through O’Donnell’s class for someone I only wanted to fuck. If I’m gonna listen to that hag drone on and on then there’s a damn good reason I’m sitting my ass in that classroom.” With a sigh, Eddie steps closer to you and after a moment’s hesitation, cups your face in his hands. “Can I take you out? Do things, ya know, the right way?”

A little trill of a giggle bursts out of you, which makes Eddie frown. But you’re quick to let him in on what you found amusing.

“You mean having sex in a bathroom at Steve Harrington’s house isn’t the typical way romances start?”

A grin slowly slides across Eddie’s mouth and you swear it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. All you want to do is keep that smile on his handsome face as much as you possibly can. 

“A romance, huh?” He clicks his tongue. “If I’d known that’s what this was, I would’ve at least fucked you in a guest room.”

You let your fingers brush over the fly of his jeans, feeling a gentle twitch from behind the zipper. “How about for round two?”

Eddie holds your face in his hands as he kisses you deeply, only breaking it to smile and murmur: 

“You read my mind, Beautiful.”

--

[shixcherie]

Damsel In Stress | Jeong Yunho & Song Mingi ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 04 : Bodyguards, Shower Sex

↬ [ Synopsis ] : When your bodyguards, devilishly handsome and undeniably sexy, promise you a night to remember, you take it all in stride. Whether it’s bending the rules or indulging in steamy shower sex, you’re ready to embrace the thrill, surrendering yourself completely to the experience.

Word Count : 3.9k Genre : Smut, Angst, Bodyguard Au. Pairing : Bodyguard! Yunho x F.Reader x Bodyguard! Mingi

WARNINGS : Pure smut, shower sex, double penetration, dom/sub undertones, multiple orgasms, praise, petnames ( doll and princess), playful banter and flirting, big dick agenda, mention of alchol and drug consumption.

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

☆☆☆ NOTE : Day 4 is here, and this is huge just like our handsome boys, Yunho and Mingi. :P . Hope you enjoy this ma chéries. This story contains themes related to alcohol and drug use. Reader discretion is advised.

“Yunho, ahh... keep going, please don’t stop” you cried as Yunho mercilessly pounded deep into you, his thrusts turning your brain to mush. “So good, princess, taking us so well.”

Us? Did he just say “US”?

“Is this what you wanted, doll?” Mingi's deep voice purred from behind, sending a shiver down your spine. “Feels good, doesn’t it… being taken care of like this?” His words heightened the sensation of being at the mercy of your two deliciously handsome bodyguards.

As you pieced together the situation, it felt messy, thrilling, and was definitely going to be hard to explain to your daddy.

Wait… how did you end up here?

Let’s rewind a bit.

—

Your friends called you “Damsel In Distress” for being daddy’s little princess, constantly getting saved by him and your bodyguards Yunho and Mingi and being the mischievous talk of the town. Causing trouble was not something you chose to indulge in voluntarily; it was just that wherever you went, trouble followed you like a loyal dog following its master.

Coming from an opulent family didn’t help either, because people loved to pick on someone who had everything that they didn’t and couldn’t have. Taking behind your back, purposely messing up your drinks to see daddy’s little princess act crazy, and snatching your boyfriend Mingyu were a few things that you had been dealing with for the past six months. With your best friends turning their backs on you, your situation got a thousand times worse. Bullying turned into actual harassment, and this daddy’s little princess went feral.

Up until a point, you did tolerate it; you got your dead mom’s patience after all. You didn’t want anything from a woman who cheated on your S-tier, greenest of the green flag, ultra pro max gentleman daddy, but fate had a way of shoving things down your throat that you didn’t want to be associated with at all. Hence, you were a spitting image of your mom, but the good thing was you got your dad’s behavior and morals, making you the most loyal person you would ever meet.

You were more like a “Damsel In Stress” after multiple failed relationships and a damaged reputation in university. The only people you could gawk at without getting labeled as a “creep” were your handsome bodyguards, Yunho and Mingi. Tall and handsome with Greek god-ish builds, they made anything in their vicinity appear minuscule, and your 5’3” tall frame didn’t help much.

But where your height lacked, you made up for it with your attitude (short girlies for the win). The last six months were the most nightmarish months of your whole freaking life; getting addicted to substances, smoking weed, and sneaking out at late hours to attend God knows what kind of parties became your choice of escape. Your only option.

These were the only things that somehow filled the empty void, hence your daddy decided to ignore it for a while, as long as you were safely back home at dawn, and Yunho and Mingi, being the most dutiful and uptight bodyguards, made sure of it.

Tonight was different, though.

Why? Because you met this girl online, her name’s Ryujin.

You both clicked instantly, shared similar past troubles, and were freshly single, addicted to drugs. You girlies had been planning a getaway to spend a wild night out.

Ryujin found this party happening a few hours' drive from your mansion, kinda illegal with everything from dangerous drugs to premium liquor available, but promising a wild night.

You needed that.

Hence, you sneaked out again without anyone noticing, not even your bodyguards. You sneakily tranquilized their drinks, hehe, not advisable, but kinda the need of the hour.

Then how did this perfectly well-planned night take such an unexpected turn?

You were here to forget all your sorrows, so why were you lying on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, disgusting, your body so limp it felt like you took a thousand fucking punches, not remembering a single thing? The last thing you remembered was Ryujin crying on her knees beside you, fear calling your bodyguards. Yes, they were saved on speed dial just so you could escape out of situations like these without daddy noticing it.

But what happened with you? Did you drink too much? Ingest something so strong that it blacked you the fuck out?

A thousand questions swirled around your mind as darkness took over. You could feel yourself being picked up off the cold and dirty bathroom floor, Ryujin thanking Yunho as he offered to drop her back home, which she declined sweetly, mentioning she could drive back as she had bought her car and had almost sobered up. Fucking traitor! Why call them?!

Wait, Yunho?! What about your drugged drink? Did it not work on them? Who the fuck is carrying you? Is it Mingi? Not complaining at all; you had dreamt of moments like this.

But when—how did they know—why—what the actual motherfucking fuck is this mess?

Yeah, your intoxicated brain couldn’t handle any more, and you passed out.

When the tiniest consciousness slipped into your brain, you opened your eyes to gaze upon the glorious sight in front of you: fine-as-freaking-wine men driving you somewhere.

“What are you guys doing here?” you asked, even if you knew what was going to come your way. “Aren’t you both supposed to be... umm... sleeping?”

It's our job to take care of you.

“It’s our job to look out for you, doll” Mingi replied with a small smile,just the way you expected, his deep voice slightly registering in your intoxicated mind, and huh, did he just call you doll?

“Sleeping? That’s cute. Aren’t you supposed to be in bed by now, princess?” Yunho asked you, a smug look adorning his face, still not answering your question, his sexy smirk visible from the rearview mirror.

What the fuck with these nicknames?

“Guess the dosage wasn’t strong enough, huh?” Mingi chipped in, his handsome frame in the driver’s seat way too distracting for you to register whatever the fuck he said, something along the lines of dosage being strong.

Huh?! You just got caught. Is there a way out of this? Will daddy find out? Will you be punished?

“He-hehe, what dosage are you talking about?” you nervously laughed, thinking of what to say next.

“Can we not play dumb anymore, princess?” Yunho teased, giving you a look that clearly said daddy’s princess just got caught. “Sorry to disappoint you, but boys don’t take naps on the job.” That sealed the deal for you; even the freaking drug betrayed you.

Your lips formed a thin line, your mind made up that any more excuses you planned on coming up with were not going to work on them anymore. You sighed in defeat, earning a chuckle from both of them.

A piercing silence fell over the car, soon replaced by a thick tension that made you shift uncomfortably in your seat, filthy thoughts flickering through your mind like a movie reel.

Was it the sexual frustration building up over the last six months, or the effects of the intoxication? You couldn’t pinpoint it.

But every time you caught Yunho's intense gaze through the rearview mirror, a jolt ran down your spine, heat pooling low in your stomach. His smirk never faltered, his eyes shifting between you and the road, as if he knew exactly what was running through your head.

Mingi, sitting beside him, wasn’t any less subtle. His broad hand casually rested on the steering wheel, but his eyes would drift toward you whenever he thought you weren’t looking. That small smile from earlier still lingered on his lips, making your pulse quicken. You couldn't shake the way his deep voice wrapped around that nickname, “doll”. It felt too intimate, too... dangerous.

Why were your bodyguards acting up today? Was it the aftereffects of the drug, or perhaps... they did feel some kind of way towards you?

So, it wasn’t just you after all, was it? They had been battling with the same thoughts, the same desire simmering beneath the surface. You could feel it—thick in the air, undeniable. A flush creep up your neck, only heightening the tension.

“What’s wrong, princess? Feeling a little too warm?” Yunho teased, his voice laced with amusement as he noticed the way you shifted in your seat again.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing, but there was no escaping the heat radiating from both of them.

They knew exactly what they were doing to you.

As Mingi turned down a quieter street, the path leading exactly where you feared, their house, your fears were confirmed. Or perhaps, it wasn’t fear at all... but excitement for what was about to come next.

Mingi pulled the car to a stop in front of their house, your pulse quickens heart racing a million miles in equal parts anticipation and fear, as Yunho opened the door for you, his hand reaching out to help you step down. His fingers brushed against your skin, seemingly innocent, but it sent a spark of electricity through your body.

No words were exchanged as they led you inside, the door closing behind you with a soft click. The air was thick with unspoken tension, the kind that had been building for months. You were halfway across the living room when Mingi’s deep voice broke the silence.

“You’re trembling, doll” he murmured, stepping closer. His proximity was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched. “Nervous? Or is it something else?”

Before you could respond, Yunho was behind you, his breath hot against your neck as he leaned in. “You didn’t think you could drug us and just walk away, did you, princess?” His voice was low, teasing, and far too close for your mind to stay clear.

You turned to face him, heart hammering, but the words stuck in your throat as Yunho’s eyes darkened. In one swift motion, his lips claimed yours—demanding, taking what had been simmering between you for far too long. His kiss was messy, mind-numbing, filled with hunger. A hunger you hadn’t fully realized, or maybe one you’d knowingly ignored given the forbidden nature of your relationship with them.

Before you could catch your breath, Mingi was there. His hand gently tilted your chin toward him, his lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “We’re not finished with you yet.” The words sent a shiver through you. And before you could process the weight of them, his mouth was on yours—slow, deliberate, and utterly consuming, like he had all the time in the world.

You were experiencing things you had once only dreamed of, especially given the state of desperation you felt a few months ago. Even though you had deliberately ignored the hints Yunho and Mingi dropped, this moment felt like a culmination of all those unspoken desires.

A wave of validation washed over you, filling your heart with satisfaction as you realized that they shared the same hunger and lust that had been simmering within you for so long.The hunger that had been building for months had finally ignited, and there was no turning back.

As Mingi continued to kiss you, Yunho decided to take over your neck, decorating it with butterfly kisses. “You taste so sweet,princess” he murmured, nipping at your skin, urging pretty moans from you that were muffled by Mingi’s skillful lips.

“Is she always this responsive?” Mingi teased, pulling back slightly to glance at you, his eyes dark with desire. “We could get used to this.”

“Don’t let it go to your head” you shot back playfully, but your breath hitched as Yunho continued his trail of kisses.

Purple marks blossomed along your neck as Yunho explored further, nibbling on your earlobe before kissing you behind the ear. “You’re driving me wild,do you know that ?” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “We might just want to keep you like this forever.”

“Guess I found your sweet spot” Yunho smirked, oblivious to the way your body reacted as he kept kissing and nibbling that delicate area.

“Mhmm… Yunho… don’t stop” you gasped, earning a chuckle from him at the way his name rolled off your tongue. Your hands tangled in Mingi’s hair as he maintained his steamy kiss.

Mingi pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his voice low and husky. “Just imagine what else we can do to you, doll.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it” you chuckled softly, meeting his gaze. With a playful smirk, you added, “Have a feeling you two won’t disappoint me.”

Yunho caught your eye, his grin playful. “You have no idea how much we’ve been wanting this, do you?”

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you teased, “I might have had a hint… but now, I want a full demonstration.” It was true, tensions had always heightened between the three of you. But given the restrictions and the lack of loose moments like this, it had kept you from exploring each other,until now.

Mingi leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll give you a show you won’t forget.”

Mingi's hands found the hem of your top, pulling it up slowly. “Let me take this off for you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as the fabric slipped away, leaving your skin bare to his hungry gaze. His gaze had you wet down south, aching to be touched and devoured.

Yunho stepped closer, his fingers eagerly working on your jeans. “You look incredible, but let’s make it even better, shall we?” he teased, his breath hot against your ear as he slid your jeans down your legs, pooling at your feet.

The cold air making contact with you sent goosebumps all over your body, excitement coursing through you.A faint sound of water running caught your ears—was it the shower? A knowing look spread across your face. Ah, so that’s what these two had been planning.

Quite steamy, you thought, and utterly exciting.

The idea of the three of you under the shower, bodies pressed together, both your holes stuffed to the brim,had your arousal pooling, your core dripping with desire.

“Figured it out already, doll?” Mingi chuckled, a knowing look in his eyes as he glanced toward the bathroom where the water was running.

“Then, princess shall not wait any longer” Yunho added, his voice low and sultry, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Both of them took your hands, guiding you toward the bathroom. As you stood under the shower, water cascaded down your body, the heat mixing with your own as you surrendered to the moment.

Yunho's hands cupped your breasts, his touch igniting a fire within you. He played with your now-hard nipples as your head rested back on his shoulder, eyes closed, a disheveled mess with your lips caught between your teeth.

Mingi knelt before you, his gaze intense as he admired how the water glistened on your skin. “You’re absolutely breathtaking” he said, his fingers teasingly grazing your inner thighs before moving higher.

Your breath hitched as Mingi's fingers finally found your dripping core, sliding through your folds that left you gasping. “How does that feel, princess?” he asked, looking up at you with a smirk, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“Unbelievably good” you breathed, leaning back against Yunho, who continued to play with your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples, making them harden under his touch.

Mingi’s fingers skillfully explored your slick heat, swirling and teasing, collecting soft moans from your lips. “Cum for us, doll. Just enjoy this moment with us” he whispered, his voice dripping with seduction as he picked up the pace, each back-and-forth movement driving you wild.

Yunho's hands moved from your breasts to your waist, steadying you as Mingi's fingers worked their magic. The tension within you built, a delicious pressure threatening to consume you.

Yunho’s breath was hot against your ear as he kissed the delicate spot, quickening your heart and serving as the final blow that made everything come undone.

With a soft gasp, you surrendered to the waves of pleasure, losing yourself completely in the moment as you released onto Mingi’s fingers.

Your head slumped against Yunho’s shoulder as he held you, and you watched Mingi lick your juices off his chubby fingers before shoving them into Yunho's mouth. The sight in front of you sent butterflies racing in your stomach; watching them taste your slick made your core throb with a desperate need for attention.

Without wasting any more time, Yunho twisted your body toward him, his lips glistening with remnants of your juices as hot water cascaded down his face. His hands pulled you closer, signaling you to jump. You wrapped your legs around his waist, a sense of urgency consuming you. In one swift motion, he thrust his hard, aching length into you, filling you completely.

“God, you feel incredible, baby” Yunho groaned, his eyes dark with lust as he relished the sensation of you around him, your walls hugging him providing a warm yet tempting sensation. He was hungry, yet he held back, waiting for Mingi to join.

Taking the cue, Mingi closed the distance, positioning himself behind you. “You ready for more, doll?” he asked, his voice low and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded eagerly, excitement pooling in your stomach.

With a firm grip on your hips, Mingi pressed himself against you, slowly pushing his cock inside your ass. “You’re so tight” he grunted, a mix of pleasure and disbelief in his voice as he slid deeper. “You’re going to feel amazing filled up by both of us.”

The sensation was overwhelming; the hot water, both your holes occupied, and the intoxicating feeling of being completely claimed by both men. You let out a breathy moan, a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort as you adjusted to the sensation.

“I’ve never felt anything like this. Boys, please move.” you gasped but responded to them, your body trembling with delight.

Yunho tightened his grip on you, his thrusts steady and deep, matching Mingi's rhythm as he began to move behind you. “Just relax and let us take care of you” Yunho whispered against your ear, his breath hot and inviting. “You’re going to love this.”

“We’ve got you, princess” Mingi encouraged, his hands finding your waist, guiding your movements as they both took you to new heights of pleasure. “Close your eyes and let loose.”

You obeyed as their pace quickened, drawing a chorus of moans from your lips, leaving you breathless. The overwhelming sensation, mixed with the heat of the water, only heightened your arousal. The boys were just as breathless, groaning with each hard thrust. Mingi's lips parted in a string of "oh my gods" as he pushed deeper inside you. You could feel him on the edge, just like your own release was building to its peak.

Suddenly, Yunho slowed his thrusts, savoring the moment as he realized both you and Mingi were hovering on the edge. “What’s the rush, baby?” he teased, his voice low and sultry. “We want to feel every single second .”

Mingi chuckled, pressing his chest against your back, his hands gripping your hips firmly. “Let’s take our time” he whispered hotly against your ear. “We want to enjoy you completely.”

The change in pace drove you wild, and you squirmed between them, desperate for more. “Please… don’t stop” you gasped, the need overwhelming you.

“Such a needy little thing” Yunho murmured with a wicked grin. “Just the way we like it.” With that, he picked up the pace again, thrusting into you harder, while Mingi added more pressure from behind, teasing and heightening the electric pleasure surging through you.

The urgency in your core built up rapidly. “I’m so close” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut as everything else faded away, only the two of them and the pleasure they gave you remained.

“I can’t hold on much longer, gonna cum.” you gasped, your body trembling between them. An urged need to release and break apart washed over you pushing you more and more and over the edge.

Yunho and Mingi exchanged knowing glances, their thrusts becoming more conssitent and delicious. “Cum for us, doll.” Mingi urged, his sultry voice in your ear. “We’re right there with you.”

With a final deep thrust from Yunho and Mingi's teasing dicks, pleasure crashed over you like a huge wave. A loud moan escaped your lips as your release hit, sending shock waves through your entire body. “Holy fuck”

Feeling you clench around him, Yunho groaned, his grip tightening. Mingi pressed against you from behind, both men overwhelmed by your powerful release had their cocks twitching for a release.

“Damn, you feel incredible” Yunho breathed, thrusting erratically. “We’re right behind you, princess.”

With one last powerful thrust, Yunho filled you, followed by Mingi, their warmth mingling as waves of pleasure crashed over you once more.

As they pulled out, you leaned back against Yunho, feeling blissfully satisfied. “Best shower ever” you murmured, wrapped in the warmth of their embrace

"I can’t hold on much longer,please…aa.aa, gonna cum” you gasped, your body trembling between them. The overwhelming need to release washed over you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

Yunho and Mingi exchanged knowing glances, their thrusts becoming more consistent and deliberate. “Cum for us, doll” Mingi urged, his sultry voice in your ear. “We’re right there with you.”

With a final deep thrust from Yunho and Mingi's teasing strokes, pleasure crashed over you like a tidal wave. A loud moan escaped your lips as your release hit, sending shockwaves through your entire body. “Holy fuck…”

Feeling you clench around him, Yunho groaned, his grip tightening. Mingi pressed against you from behind, both men overwhelmed by your powerful release, their cocks twitching as they chased their own.

“Damn, you feel incredible” Yunho breathed, thrusting erratically. “We’re right behind you, princess.”

With one last powerful thrust, Yunho spilled into you, followed by Mingi, their warmth mingling as waves of pleasure crashed over you again.

As they pulled out, you leaned back against Yunho, feeling blissfully satisfied. “Best shower ever,” you murmured, wrapped in the warmth of their embrace.

Truly that was the best shower and the best sex ever.

Yunho and Mingi stepped out of the shower, with Yunho carrying you. They took care of you, drying your hair and helping you get dressed before cleaning themselves up. Being taken care of like this was something you hadn’t experienced in a while, and it felt nice, you heart did a happy dance as you smiled at them, soaking their warm energy in.

Once dressed, you and Yunho settled on the living room couch, flipping through random channels on TV. Mingi soon joined, bringing refreshments, and settled on your left. The three of you cuddled on the couch, with you sandwiched between their warm, muscular bodies.

“What about my dad...?” you trailed off, the thought of explaining this to him crossing your mind as he was set to return from his business trip.

“Let’s worry about that later, yeah princess?” Yunho suggested, stealing a quick peck from your lips.

“Let’s just enjoy being together now, doll” Mingi added, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

Yeah that for the future you to worry. We’ll take care of daddy, lets enjoy the present for now.

For Now, Damsel no longer in stress.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[eraenaa]

Please, Please, Please (Rafe's Edition)

Inspired by the song Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter

Rafe Cameron x Reader Tag List

Synopsis: Being with Rafe, a notorious hotheaded drug dealer, you knew others would question your relationship— especially your parents, who had never been fond of him. But when his habits had been too much to handle, you knew that you would prefer heartbreak to a broken ego. 

Warnings: ¿Slight Angst?,Possessiveness, Jealousy, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Semi-Public Relations, Not Proofread 

Word Count: 4,480

You took a risk—a big one at that. Rafe had always been a boy your parents, friends, and almost everyone warned you about, but you ignored their qualms, for there was this persistent pull to him that you could not deny. 

Growing up, it was plain that he was a bully. He was always one to torment other children in the playground or at school, but you were saved from his hostility, him only as going as far as teasing you because you were easily baited. Later, he did admit that it was his only way to gain your attention. You had hoped he would grow out of his tormenting ways when the two of you reached maturity, but it only severed. He always got into pointless and petty fights and was scolded by his teachers and father as he was often suspended from school, but their warnings did nothing to deter him. When you reached high school, you once again hoped he would clean up his act, wanting to fall fully for him, but his rash decision, raging temper, and ill vices had only multiplied— hindering you from admitting the attraction you had to him since childhood. 

It was plain that any pull you had towards him should be ignored and buried deep inside, for he only came with trouble. It also did not help that he had doubled his efforts to show his interest in you. Giving you little gifts and trinkets he knew you were entirely fond of. Scaring away any romantic prospects, labeling you as ‘his’ though nothing between you two was truly set in stone. So, you could not help yourself to succumb to him— to finally be his, just like your heart in childhood longed for. As years passed, you would silently beg him not to prove you right— that he could overcome the judgments passed on him, but your pleas were moot, for Rafe could never fully shed the true yet cruel perceptions of him. 

You tried to keep him at arm’s length for as long as you could, but even the mightiest and most stubborn of soldiers falter and lose their sensibilities. The two of you started with hookups, not entirely romantic, yes, but it was enough for you to fall further for him. You would often sneak around at parties, making out in the bathroom or an empty closet or even a dark corner somewhere. You thought the both of you could live happily even though no one knew you were with him, so no one could pass their judgments. Things were quick to escalate with you giving him your first kiss to him taking your first time. 

“Rafe,” You cried out in pain, him drawing circles upon your sensitive bud as his well-endowed length pushed its way in you,  him hushing and kissing your tears away as he fully sheathed himself in your cunt— finally taking all of you after years of patience and restraint. “Just a little more, pretty girl… you’ll be a good girl for me, won’t you?” He hissed as he felt you clench around him, your cunt tighter than he had hoped, and Rafe felt lightheaded.  You nodded weakly and looked at him through teared-filled eyes. “Fucking hell, baby… you feel so fucking good,” Rafe groaned as he cautiously thrust into you, waiting for your pained expression to turn to pleasure. 

“Rafe… oh god, I— just like that,” you said, almost incoherently. “Such a good girl taking all of my cock… you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this… how long I’ve wanted you.” Rafe gritted through pleasure. That night, you knew there was no turning back; every part of you was Rafe’s that even your mind could not even find caution. 

However, just like in any other relationship, there were trials. Your trial was to keep Rafe at bay, not to let him sink into his addiction and violence. Your earnest effort was poured into his rehabilitation and to calm his forever violent being. Rafe’s trial was you keeping your relationship a secret. He wanted to shout it and make it known throughout the Outer Banks that you were his. That the only girl he had ever wanted— loved was finally his, but you were persistent in keeping the both of you a secret, having to sneak around. The touches, longing, pleasure, and love need to be hidden in the dark. Sometimes, he wondered if you were ashamed of him, but he did not like dwelling on the thought, for it only brought devastation in him. There was a painful throb in his chest and a pit in his stomach when he would think of the matter. 

“Rafe, do you really have to… do this?” You asked as your eyes flew towards the packet of white substance he was planning to sell at a party you two would attend later that day. “You know I have to, baby… it’ll be quick, I swear. Those kids always sell out my stock,” He sighed and wrapped his arms around your waist. You licked your lips and stared at his chest, unable to meet his eyes. Rafe had stopped using the moment the two of you went official, but no matter what half-hearted ultimatum you threw at him, you could not hinder him from engaging in illegal dealings. 

“But what if you get caught… your father h—“ Rafe sighed and kissed your lips shut. He appreciated your concern greatly; you were the only one who genuinely cared and loved him, but he could not listen to your concern, for he had no actual choice but to sell. He had great financial needs, especially because you were with him; he needed to support both of you. To show you that he can provide you with the well-off life you already lived. Yes, his family did have money, a great deal of it, but he didn’t have the want to be indebted and be under his father’s thumb. 

“I won’t. Stop worrying, baby; you know it makes your stomach upset,” It was half concern and half tease; you could only roll your eyes at his words. “Just… just be safe— be cautious and—“ Rafe kissed your lips shut once more, smirking against your lips as he could not help but be flattered by your concern. “I know what I’m doing.” He said confidently. You were unconvinced but still gave a nod, not wanting to push and anger him. 

True enough to his word, nothing of note happened at the party, much to your relief. The following day, you did not expect to see Rafe, for you had told him you were busy with engagements with your parents. “What are you doing here?” You asked with a frantic smile as you felt arms wrap around you. You were in the country club’s restaurant waiting for your parents to arrive. 

Rafe did not answer your question; he simply just connected your lips, and your eyes grew wide. From where you sat, you gently pushed him away, and you felt guilt course your system as you saw hurt in his ocean eyes. “My parents are here,” You say warily, further putting distance between you. Rafe stood straight and frowned, “So?” He asked, and you smoothened the fabric of your dress in nervousness. “You know why,” You say softly, and you hear him scoff and shake his head. “Baby, it’s been two years… how long are you gonna hide us?” He asked, and you felt further guilt take over you. You parted your lips to speak but you hear your parents call for your name, making you stand in surprise and hesitantly greet them. 

“So sorry we’re late, darling; your father and I could not escape our meeting!” Your mother sighed and patted your cheek affectionately. “Oh, you have company,” Your mother said in surprise as she noticed Rafe standing behind you. You feel your stomach drop as your father’s eyes fly to Rafe. “You’re Ward’s son, aren’t you?” He asked, uncertain as he and your mother only spent scarce time on the island. “Rafael, was it?” Your father asked, and you chewed on your cheek as you watched their interaction. “Rafe,” he gritted, and you gave him a look, “… sir. It’s Rafe,” He corrected, and your father nodded in acknowledgment. 

You took in a deep breath as your father assisted your mother to sit and motioned for you to do the same, but you were hesitant as Rafe still stood by the side of your table. You look to your mother, and she purses her lips, “Bye, Rafe, tell Sarah I’ll see her later,” You suddenly say as his cue to leave; you clench your hands around the fabric of your dress as you see anger and hurt in his eyes as the words left your lips, expecting you to invite him to your family’s meal and hopefully reveal your relationship to your parents. “Yeah, see you around,” He gritted out and stomped out of the restaurant, anger exuding from him. 

You took a menu into your hands and finally let out a breath of relief. “I don’t want you to associate yourself with that type of company,” Your father suddenly said. You lowered the menu in your hands, “What?” You asked quietly. “I do not want you to associate yourself with that boy,” You blinked at your father’s words. “He’s Sarah’s brother,” You say meekly. “Even so. He only comes with trouble, darling. We are here only a handful of months every year, but the rumors and talk about him and his… habits are deafening,” Your mother chimed in, and you lowered your gaze. “We are not hindering you from being friends with Sarah, but it would be best if you keep your distance from her brother— we don’t need you being influenced by that, Rafe,” You bit your lip as you slowly nodded, your parents expecting a response of agreement from you. 

After the day spent with your parents, you rushed towards Tannyhill as you feel Rafe was not too happy with you. He would usually message and call you throughout the day to see how you were, but not even one notification came from him, rendering you further in guilt. “I’m so sorry,” You say in a plea as you knelt on Rafe’s bed, him sitting idly by the headboard, avoiding your gaze, a prominent furrow in his brows. You placed your hand on his leg, and you sighed as he moved his limb away from your touch. You watched as he crossed his arms across his chest and turned further away from you. It shouldn’t amuse you, but he looked like a little kid who was on the verge of a tantrum. 

“I really am sorry. I just wasn’t ready to tell them yet,” You say and move closer to Rafe, taking hold of his hand. “It’s been two years. If you still aren’t ready now, when will you be?” He grumbled, and you bit your lip. 

“Rafe, you know it’s complicated, my parents are…” You trailed, unable to find the word. “Just fucking say you’re ashamed of me!” Rafe seethed and stood from his bed. Your lips parted in shock at his words, “That’s not true! I love you; I will never be ashamed of you!” You defended and stood as well, following close to him. “Yeah? Then why the fuck are we a secret?” You lowered your gaze in shame as he screamed at you. “Because my parents won’t approve,” You said truthfully. “Rafe, they still see you as a hothead junkie… and I know you’ve changed— I’ve seen you change, but they haven’t. And they're just… they don’t want me near you,” You said, and Rafe shook his head, a gnawing feeling in his gut. He didn’t care for the other’s opinion of him, but now he could not help but too because your parent’s opinion of him was what was hindering you from being fully his. 

“I just fear that if we tell them now, they’ll take drastic measures to— to separate us,” You say in fear. “What?” He asked and made you lift your gaze and look at him. “They’ve been wanting to move to New York for a while now— for the business, but I keep insisting on staying here,” You admitted, having hidden that information from Rafe for a year because you didn’t want it to go in between your relationship. You hear Rafe’s ragged breathing, “How much longer?” He asked in aggravation. “I don’t know,” You say truthfully. “That’s not a fucking answer,” You hear how hard he tried hard to control his rage, to not point his anger at you. 

“Rafe,” you sighed. “I know how you’ve changed— I’ve watched you change, and I am so proud of you… but,” You bit your lip as you tried to decide if you should continue speaking. “But what?” He seethed. “You still deal drugs… you haven’t cut the final tie to that life,” You say lowly. “Baby, you know why I do it,” You furrowed your brow; do you truly know why? You began to wonder. Rafe saw your confusion and spoke once more. 

“I’m doing it for us— for you, so I can support you. So we can be free in the future. Just you and me.” He said and cupped your cheeks, but his explanation did not aid your bewilderment. “Rafe, you know I am not with you for money… I don’t need you to provide for me, and I most certainly don’t need tainted currency.” 

“I know you don’t need me to provide for you— I want to provide for you,” You sighed as your heart doubled at his words. “I appreciate that… but, my love, there are other ways… when we build our life together, we don’t need this type of money. We could find jobs in the meantime, and in a few years, I’ll have hold of my trust fund; we could use that to build the life we want.” Rafe shook his head at the solution you presented, it was simply not good enough for him. He would not subject you to finding a job and dipping into your trust fund just because he could not provide for you properly. 

“Don’t be stubborn,” you sighed, “Rafe… I— This can’t go on, ‘cause—“ you quickly halted your words before you uttered something you might regret. “Cause what?” Rafe questioned, and his frown deepened as you took off his hold on your face. “Rafe, I love you.. but I can’t be with you if you still do this,” You said, solemnly. Rafe felt his stomach twist at your words. 

“You accused me of being ashamed of you… I am not, I could never be.” You spoke, voice already heavy with emotion. “I am, however, ashamed of what you do— I’m sorry— I know you are doing it with the purest of intentions, but there are other ways to earn money; you know there are.” Rafe felt his body turn rigged with rage. “And think of the scandal of it all… I love you, but please, please, please, you must understand that I cannot tarnish my and my family’s reputation with this,” You feel a tear fall from your eyes, and you cannot even stomach to look at Rafe in the eyes. 

“Get out,” You hear him say through gritted teeth after a moment of steely silence passed. You finally placed your gaze upon his and all you could see was anger and hurt, “Get the fuck out!” He screamed, and you backed away, not challenging him anymore, and just did as he told. As you sat at his bedroom door, you bit your tongue to stifle a sob as you heard him let out his rage, thrashing and ruining his room, throwing and breaking anything and everything. 

Three weeks passed, and you did nothing but mourn your secret relationship with Rafe. You barely left the house, actively avoiding the places you knew you would see him in. Only going out on the days you had memorized he had ‘business’ to attend to and won’t be out of town. A part of you felt entirely guilty, ending it and crushing your heart and his, but the more rational part of you saw that it was needed. Heartbreak is one thing, but your ego is certainly another. And you thought you could handle a broken heart better than a tarnished reputation. 

“Hey!” You hear banging at your front door, and you frown from where you sit in the living room. You made cautious steps as the door pounded. You would lie if the violent banging of the wooden door did not make you hope it was Rafe, but as you looked through the peephole, you saw his sister. “Sarah?” You asked as you opened the door, and she smiled at you. “Where have you been? You’ve been MIA the past few weeks! Are you sick?” She asked as you ushered her inside your house. 

“Uhm… just haven’t been feeling well,” You fibbed as you took her to the kitchen and handed her some refreshments. “Are you better now?” You gave her a forced smile and nodded your head. “Great! Because you’re coming with me to a party!” You frowned at her words, “I don’t know… I’m not really up for a party,” You say softly, and Sarah shakes her head. “Come on! It’s Top’s birthday— he even sent me here to convince you we miss you!” Sarah pleaded, and your broken heart grew warm at her words. You took a moment before answering, “Fine,” You sighed and you saw clear excitement in her eyes as she had convinced you. 

“When is it?” You asked as Sarah took hold of your wrist. “Now! Come one, let’s get you ready!” You laughed as she hurriedly led you to your room and ready you for the party. “There are a lot of cute guys there… might wanna get to know them,” You could only blink at her words. Sarah sighed as you stood before your closet, “I… I know about you and Rafe,” She suddenly confessed, and you could not find it in yourself to be surprised. “And I’m not trying to bum you out, but maybe you should try to move on, find someone else… he certainly has,” You feel your heart pit at the last words she mumbled. “What?” You asked meekly. Sarah fidgeted with her fingers, “He’s been fucking his way through the island,” She said lowly. You sucked on your lip; you did expect it. He was a notorious playboy before you two went official, so it was only fitting he waltzes back into old patterns after your relationship’s demise. 

As you entered the party with Sarah, you squared your shoulders and avoided the dark corners of the house, knowing that is where Rafe would be. You barely entered the threshold when someone already came up to you, “Can I get you a drink?” A tall guy with brown hair and hazel eyes asked you; you flashed him a quick smile and a nod, and he led you to a drinks table, Sarah whispering ‘good luck’ in your ear as you departed from her side. 

Rafe felt his eye twitch as he saw you by the drink table chatting with a guy wearing one of your dresses that was his favorite. His hold on the wad of cash grew tighter as you had a smile on your face and the guy leaning closer to you. “Yo, dude, can I get my change?” Someone yelled at him through the blaring music. Rafe clenched his jaw and begrudgingly moved his eyes from you to hand the person their change. How could you just walk in this and flirt with guys as if you had not broken his heart? How could you bait him, lead in him with false promises and security— love and care for him like nobody else had, then just fucking leave!

You left the party proper, letting the guy you just met lead you to the backyard to where a swing set was, the both of you needing quiet to hold and actually conversation. He was not Rafe, did not come close, but maybe that was a good thing. You were grateful for the distraction, and if your heart were not so stubborn, you would be more interested in him. You did not know how long the both of you stayed chatting in the swing set, but when the both of you heard the distinct sound of a cop’s car and kids running out of the house, you two quickly stood and saw what was happening.

You took a deep breath as you saw the scene before you: Rafe being handcuffed by the sheriff and his little packets being confiscated. You locked eyes with ocean-blue ones for the first time in three weeks, and you saw nothing but rage and hate in them. You chewed on your cheeks as they escorted Rafe out, and you left the guy you were with to find Sarah. 

Rafe sat in the holding cell, staring blankly at the floor. He did not know how to process anything. He did not know if he should focus more on the fact that he was arrested or the scene he saw in the backyard with you chatting and laughing with some guy but the swing set. Rafe made himself more comfortable in his seat, certain he would stay the night there, but he was surprised as the cell doors were being unlocked. “Get up, Cameron; someone posted your bail.” Rafe blinked. Did his father truly come to get him? Who else would post his bail so quickly?

When Rafe walked out of holding, he saw you speaking with the sheriff, and he felt his knees grow weak. You turned to him, no word uttered before you stepped outside, and he simply followed. Rafe saw his truck parked outside, guessing one of his friends dropped you off before leaving because you never learned how to drive. Rafe sighed, took hold of the passenger side door handle, and opened the door for you, like always, hearing you mumble a quick ‘thanks’ before the two of you were enveloped in silence once more. 

You sat stiffly in your seat as Rafe drove you home, but halfway through the drive, Rafe stopped by the side of the road. “Why?” He suddenly asked as his truck came to an abrupt halt. “I know you didn’t want to bring your dad into this,” You answered quietly. Rafe huffed and shook his head. “No— why the fuck did you end it?” Rafe confronted. “Rafe, I told you, we can’t be together with all this… shit! I— I can’t be with you if you keep doing this. Do you know how scary it is for me? Besides being labeled as the girlfriend of a drug dealer… I have to wait for you to go home, hoping you’re unscathed—that you didn’t get into any danger. I don’t want to live with that kind of anxiety, Rafe!” You paused your lips as you saw his tight grip on the steering wheel. You feel your eyes welling with tears, and you curse yourself as your tears will surely ruin your makeup. 

“Fine, I’ll… I’ll quit,” Rafe said after a moment, and you shook your head and crossed your arms. “Don’t make empty promises, Rafe.” You sighed as he tried to take hold of your hand. “Baby, you know I always keep my promises… remember when I said I’d quit doing drugs? I did it, didn’t I? I did it for you, and I’ll do this for you again,” You swallowed thickly at Rafe’s words. “Rafe…” you trailed, not knowing what to say. “I swear— I can put all of this behind, just… I can’t lose you, not you.” Rafe pleaded and you could only reach forward and kiss him. 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t want it to come to this— I never wanted to give you an ultimatum bu—“ Rafe cut you off by kissing your lips once more, starved by the taste and feel of you. “I know, baby, I know.” He sighed as he pulled you towards his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he kissed yours. “Sa… Sarah said you’ve been sleeping around,” You say quietly as he leaves marks on your skin. “Bullshit. You know I can’t get it up for anyone else… I only want you,” Rafe breathed out and cupped your cheek. Between his past business and his wallowing for your relationship, where would he even find time or the want for other girls? You slowly nodded and decided to believe his words. 

‘I’ve missed you,” You confessed and saw him smirk. “Good.” He answered and smashed your lips. He quickly undid the zipper of his jeans and hiked up your dress to your waist. You did not even notice it, but you were already so wet for him, your wanting aiding you to sink down on his cock. Rafe watched in amazement as your eyes rolled back and your lips parted as you let out a quiet moan. “Oh god… Rafe,” you called out breathlessly, already feeling him brush over the sensitive spot in your cunt. This position was his favorite because he was able to take you deeply, have your body flushed against his, and, most importantly, he got to kiss your plush, sweet lips. 

Rafe yanked down the top of your dress and took your tit into the cavern of his mouth as you bounced on his cock. “God, you’re so pretty,” Rafe breathed out as you clenched further along his length. “And you’re all mine,” he added and gripped your behind. “Yes… all yours,” You agreed as you moaned, the windowing of his truck fogging up. You grew careless at the passing cars, unable to find caution that the both of you might get caught, for you have missed Rafe and his cock terribly. “Are you gonna come, baby? Is my pretty girl gonna come?” Rafe hissed as he felt you rest your head on his broad shoulder; you often did that as you concentrated on reaching your peak. 

He felt you nod, and he reached towards your breast to cup and pinch the bud, earning a loud moan from your lips. Rafe was quick to follow you, spilling his seed deep inside your cunt, as three weeks without you had made him desperate. “Fuck…” Rafe hissed, and you cupped his cheeks to kiss his lips. 

You breathed heavily as you stared at his hazy eyes. “Rafe?” You called and hummed. “Please, don’t prove ‘em right? Please?” You asked, and Rafe smiled, nodding his head. “Anything for you, pretty girl.” 

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓘 𝓷𝓮𝓮𝓭 𝔂𝓸𝓾, 𝓘 𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾:

𝒪𝒻𝒻 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑅𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓈

Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: Its been five months since you started sleeping together, and you're having second thoughts about your "relationship" with Javier. But what does it matter to him? he hasn't even kissed you yet. 🍒 Continuation of “Off to the Races” and “Your Face is Shameless” but can be read alone.

Warnings: 18+ Only Minors DNI you will be blocked. Mentions of DEA, thicc age gap [Javi is in his 40s reader is in her early 20s], mentions of anxiety, major angst, situationship, guilt, unrequited love, self loathing, kissing [they did it!], Javier is emotionally unavailable, petnames, major dom/sub dynamic [dd/lg ish vibes], mean!Javi then soft!dom!Javi, degradation, dumbification, minor objectification, major size kink [Javi is bigger than and can lift reader], praise kink [finally some good girl action], daddy kink, choking, pussy pronouns, finger sucking, oral [f receiving], unprotected P in V [ do better!!]. Let me know if i missed anything 🫶

Word count: 5.4K

A/N: Hello!! I'm back!! thought it would be fitting to revisit these two post hiatus. Sorry in advance for the emotional torture that is about to ensue, but I couldn't help myself. Big thank you to @pixelsandothernonsense for being a big supporter of these two and fuelling their return on the blog time and time again. Lotsa plot, lotsa porn– as always. Hope you enjoy, nasties. Mwah

🍒Off to the races 🍒Your face is shameless 🍒Masterlist

You wanted it to be easy but it’s difficult. You wanted it to be over, but it was not. 

While Colombia seemed to be all fun and games at first sight, the longer you remained stuck in the American embassy’s city centre building the more you longed for home. 

Your research was hitting a roadblock, and things were hard. Funding was running out, and your professors were running away. Better jobs, better prospects. But your degree was the least cause for your troubles. 

You were smart. You were controlled. You didn’t know what you were thinking when you got yourself involved with Javier Peña. It seemed fun at the moment- fooling around, messing with a man double your age and four times more qualified. Trying to wrangle his true intentions out from under his furrowed brow and frown. 

Looking back you felt stupid. Embarrassed. A little ashamed of what you had become. How you let him treat you. 

He used you like a walking sex doll. Didn’t give you one look afterwards. Maybe a pat on the back but somehow that was more insulting. He had never kissed you. And there you were, fixing your makeup in the office bathroom after an evening under his desk had ruined it. 

It had been five months since the first time he'd bent you over his desk but you were only half way through your trip. Five more months seemed too long to bear. It made you sick. 

You glanced at yourself in the mirror. You looked tired, and sleepy and your clothes weren’t crisp as usual. You felt a little bit like the tissue you’d just dabbed against your cheek. A little flimsy and a little dirty. A little used, perhaps. 

It felt a little worse knowing it was all your doing. You weren’t expecting a man like Javier to change. Objectively, it wasn’t possible. But you still asked for more. For him to use and then forget about you. You wanted to leave. You wished he’d never seen this side of you. Frankly you wished you hadn’t either. 

Because you were smart and funny and interesting and could talk about all sorts of things. You liked music and books and movies and trying new food. But he’d never seen you that way. He never would. 

You hadn’t spoken to him once. Not about anything that wasn’t strictly utilitarian. Especially not after he started fucking you. It was far too awkward and far too intimate. 

For him. 

Your feelings flip flopped every day, from the casualty of the affair seeming rather appealing, to it making your chest ache. And yet you couldn’t seem to help yourself, unable to understand not only what this thing you had going on with Agent Peña was, but why you couldn't seem to stop. 

Five months camping out in the office and you hadn’t missed a single day. No matter how bad the hurt in your chest you rolled out of bed and reminded yourself of why you were where you were. It worked. It hurt, but it worked. 

But after five months it seemed like getting out of bed was suddenly impossible one morning and you thought it best to stay home. You got a few calls. One from Fiestl and Van Ness. Connie Murphy sent Steve over with soup when she heard you weren’t feeling well. 

No news from Javi Peña. 

You slept most of the day. With your computer shut and materials put away. You didn’t want to think about it. You fixed yourself dinner- instant noodles, and headed to bed once again. 

You thought it was temporary but the excruciating pain only lingered and carried you on to another day confined to the four walls of your bedroom. 

It was a bad idea- ignoring your work for as long as you did. You should have known that you wouldn’t be able to put it on the back burner- considering the neurosis surrounding your work, the fact you took a two day break was impressive. It wasn’t long before your anxiety was eating away at you, an impending deadline hanging over your head and reminding you the world didn't care about your little pity party. 

Stupid as it was, you found yourself crossing the street at the witching hour of 23:00- clad in the soft cotton dress you forced yourself into earlier that evening. The friday night had persuaded everyone out of the office, and you weren’t surprised when you found the top floor of the embassy building cold and empty. 

You were glad, and perhaps it was the only way you could stomach being there– alone. 

Your desk was exactly how you’d left it a couple of days ago- your books piled in one corner, papers thrown all over the place. It was disorganised and untidy– very unlike you. You swallowed a lump in your throat as you began to sort things out, a feeling of complete exhaustion and defeat threatening to force you into your office chair. You glanced over at Javier’s office, signs he was out for the week prompting the slight relaxation of your shoulders. 

When you finally sat down to get to work, your eyes couldn't help but flutter shut every few moments, the screen of your computer zoning in and out of your vision every now and then. The words seemed to escape you, four lines on your document all you could manage before you were pressing your forehead against the wood of your desk. 

After spending the past two days sleeping somehow all you wanted to do was climb right back into bed. 

Music, surely that would help! Or at least you thought, to no avail, a whole album played once, yet you could only manage another paragraph. Turns out burnout was real.. and it had decided now was the best time to get you. But you weren’t ready to pack up and banish yourself to your studio apartment just yet. So you upped the volume, and sat up just a little bit straighter in your chair, and got back to work. 

Something about the loneliness of working in that drab, white, characterless office was especially miserable. So miserable in fact it was almost comforting, it was so miserable it was funny. It wasn't long before you were sitting completely straight in that sad, uncomfortable office chair, laughing at yourself with a mixture of exhaustion and disbelief. You were stupid, and acted silly, and had all these big feelings, but what did it matter? It was diabolical; the capacity Javier had for ruining your life, but soon enough you’d be out of here and one day you’d probably be laughing at the whole ordeal. 

It was exhausting, but what could you do? The words came just a little bit easier from that point, and you felt yourself accept defeat and immersed yourself in your paper. At the end of the day you couldn’t control how he felt about you- you just had to take it or leave it. Not everything is that deep, you rolled your eyes at yourself, but you knew truthfully the lack of his care and affection was more than a little sting. You decided you were better off defining the “relationship” for yourself, and maybe showing a little bit more restraint. Who said everything had to be that serious, maybe you should've taken a page out of Javier’s book! 

Yes that was it, not everything was that serious, was it?

You really wished you’d had the foresight to gauge the stupidity of trying to drown out your surroundings in a public space in the middle of the night. Sure, no external threat could get you inside the excessively secure embassy building, but what did that mean when the real threat to your sanity was the DEA attache. 

Truth be told, you'd have jumped in fear if anyone had tapped their fingers on your computer screen, but when Javier rounded your desk with a raised brow and waved his hand in front of your computer, you were particularly startled. 

“The hell are you doing here?” 

Any other time you’d probably met him with a snappy reply, something to get him going, maybe rile him up enough till he was pressing your face against your papers and fucking you from the back. You wished you could have given him that response that day, but you were so completely out of yourself, you settled for a shrug and a normal “trying to finish this section”. 

“That why you disappeared these past two days?”

“I wish.. probably would have been done by now.” His brows kit, somewhat confused and just noticing your tired, puffy eyes now that he was closer. 

“When’s it due.” he leaned to sit on your table , and traced your features with his fingers. You felt your eyes flutter shut as the tip of his index ran along the bridge of your nose, and feared your new policy was at risk of being thrown right out of the window at his attention. Sighing, you leaned into his touch. Unhappy, but unable to resist it. “Next week.”

He pitched your damp cheeks between his fingers, gently shaking your head from side to side. “You've got time.” 

You hummed and took a moment to look up at him- yellow table lamp doing his golden features all sorts of favours, ones that he didn't even need to begin with if you were being honest.The weight of his hand, the roughness of his skin against yours had a soft sigh escaping your lips. 

Javier's hand moved slowly, almost hesitantly, to the back of your neck, and he gently guided you to stand. Your legs felt weak, but you helped yourself up long enough to watch him rise beside you, stepping closer. He stepped around you, positioning himself between yourself and the chair, his breath warm against your ear. 

"Sit," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. His hand moved to the back of your neck again, this time pulling you down onto his lap. The gesture was possessive, not tender. 

You obeyed, lowering yourself onto him,  your legs on either side of his waist, dangling off the seat. Javier's hands rested on your waist momentarily, heavy and harsh, before drifting lower to your hips, pulling you further into his lap till you could feel his bulge swell against you. You felt yourself get wet, he lifted your hips and then pulled you back down against him, allowing you the slight relief of the friction as you felt yourself embarrassingly throb against him. 

The proximity was suffocating, his scent—cigarettes, and aftershave. He leaned closer, and for a moment, in your delusion, you thought he might kiss you. Instead his fingers squeezed around your throat, breath fanning your lips. “You want to be daddy’s good girl, dontch’ya?” his voice was low, and biting, and you knew you were in for it, for avoiding him, when he tightened his grip at your lack of answer. 

Slick pooled in your panties, and he let you press your hot core against him, undoubtedly able to feel how easily he could unravel you. You shifted your gaze up at the ceiling to avoid his own. 

You squeaked out a feeble “yes”, already delirious. “Then why the fuck, did you think you could disappear without telling me?” He reached for the string that held together the top of your dress, rather aggressively tugging it undone, watching as it unravelled and revealed the soft cotton of your lingerie. “Busy” you whined when traced your skin with his pointer finger, palm coming to squeeze at your breast and then pull your bra aside. 

“Not looking too busy now, are ya?” your nipple pebbled under his palm, his hot breath fanning against your skin as he trailed open mouth kisses along your neck. You whimpered, reaching to tangle your fingers in Javier’s hair. Surprisingly, he let you tug on his locks, allowing you to ground yourself as he sucked your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around your bud. He came up to nip at your jaw and you whimpered  a soft “M’ sorry”. 

“What was that?” Javier rolled his eyes and growled in your ear, grazing your earlobe with his teeth, and pinching the flesh of your thighs, prompting you to speak up. And speak up you did, heat seeping into your panties at his tone and words. He didn’t respond to you, just hummed his assent and pulled you harder against him. 

His hands found the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up and into his arms. You wrapped your legs around him and his big arms crossed under you to support your weight. Continuing to kiss along your neck he plopped you on the table, but you couldn’t lie, you much preferred being carried so gently in his hold. Thank god the desk had been cleared– giving him enough room to push you back against it. You didn't really want to unwrap your legs from around him, but he grunted disapprovingly before prying your legs from his waist. Your heart jumped as he took a seat on your dingy rolly chair, his large palms lifting your legs by your calves till your feet were planted on his thighs. You propped yourself up on your elbows. 

Javier's eyes caught sight of your untied shoelace, a small hazard in the midst of your hurried night. As usual, without a word, he leaned down, fingers deftly working to tie the lace in a swift, fluid motion, securing the bow with a final, firm tug, patting the top of your shoe before returning to the task at hand. 

His eyes were hungry like they always were, deep brown, alluring, the only readable emotion in them- lust. Those large palms parted your knees, making space for you between them. A tingle ran up your spine when he brushed the tips of his fingers against the inside of your thigh, dragging them along your skin till he was toying with the hem of your panties. He shifted forward in the chair, meeting your eyes as he planted a kiss on your calf, and then hoisted your legs up on his shoulders. 

Javier took a moment to admire you, letting his rough hands roam under your skirt. You always wondered what those hands were doing; how they wrapped around his gun when he ran out of the office with it, how small they made the cigarette he was smoking look. You watched him grab, and hold, and type from across your desk when he hadn’t fucked you in a day or two, imagined those hands grabbing at your flesh and wrapping around your throat. You imagined him pumping his fingers in and out your pussy with your own hands between your legs in the middle of the night- unable to go mere days without him fucking you, salivating at the thought of those hands wrapped around his thick cock, wondering if he too couldn’t go without your touch. 

Lost in your thoughts you shuddered when you felt him drag his tongue up the cut of your slit, the already moist fabric of your panties sticking to your skin as he nudged your clit with his nose. Your head fell back involuntarily, and you felt your arms ache as you continued to struggle to hold yourself up on your elbows. Seemingly, he had decided that day he wasn’t going to make you work for it- you looked like you were working far too much already. 

“Look at me.” Javier sharply instructed from between your legs. Nipping the inside of your right thigh till you yelped in his hold. You weren't going to last very long at the sight of him, eyes glancing up at you as his mouth ghosted over your soaked pussy. You watched intently as his fingers pulled your panties aside, softly grazing your swollen flesh in a way that had you pulling your lip between your teeth to contain the pornographic moan that threatened to spill from your mouth and alert the security guard across the hall. 

Your leg twitched on his shoulder as he licked a long, firm stripe up your aching pussy. Both your eyes fluttered shut as his tongue softly explored your folds. The sight of Javier between your legs was enough to send you over the edge, one that would live in your head for a very long time. 

You struggled to hold his eyes with your own when he licked at your entrance, increasing his pace ever so slightly before he was softly sucking your clit into his mouth. Letting yourself lean back against the table you reached to continue to tangle your fingers in his hair, hoping he'd let you have his fluffy locks in your hold. Turns out you were lucky the first time, because as was more common, Javier reminded you of his “no grabbing at daddy” attitude by grasping your hand in his. 

“No grabbin at daddy, babygirl” he murmured against your wetness and you shivered. His fingers engulfed yours, stroking your skin and moving your hands to your chest. His large palm covered yours and squeezed your fingers around your breasts. You moaned, and arched your back against the table up into both your palms as his tongue achingly slipped inside you. 

The feel of his mouth against you was more than perfect, the way he expertly ate you out till you were wiggling your hips against his face, his nose nudging your clit as he fucked you with his tongue. Slow and soft then faster and rough, just how he knew you liked it. 

He seemed to be enjoying the feeling of you just as much,  groaning against your wet cunt everytime you twitched and shuddered against him, the taste of you prompting him only to bury himself deeper between your thighs, pull and grab at your hips, hold you close against him as your chest rose and fell. 

Javier lashed his tongue at your entrance, then plunged it into your slick cunt. You felt your core tighten, and you knew you couldn’t hold on much longer. “Please…” barely able to complete your sentence you squealed when he circled your clit with his tongue. You could feel him grin against the inside of your thigh, and you reached for his hands on your hips to tug at his fingers feebly. 

Making out the sound of his chuckle over your heavy breathing you whined, and then proceeded to melt in his hold when he responded with a rather gentle, yet delayed and somewhat playfully annoyed “You can come for daddy, babygirl.” 

The grip of your fingers on his tightened, and you sighed, finally letting go as Javier worked between your legs. Your cunt clamped down on his tongue as he finished you off, licking you through your orgasm and holding your hips down as you shook and squirmed above him. 

He kissed along your seam gently as you caught your breath, your breath hitching when he pushed two fingers in your still sensitive cunt to gently stroke your walls. He stifled a groan. You looked down between your legs as he withdrew those fingers and began to stand up. “She so fuckin wet for me, hmm?” He rubbed slow, soft circles on your clit, not caring to watch you intently for any giveaway that would instruct him on the perfect rhythm. He already knew what you liked- he didn’t need to bother. “Slutty little pussy achin’ to be fucked… after all these days, aint she?” 

He took a second to get a good look at you as he moved closer between your legs, and you propped yourself back up on your elbows and wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him in. 

“My good little slut” 

Bringing his fingers to your lips he urged them open, pushing in and watching you suck gently on his digits. You shivered at the taste of your own arousal. As always you felt a little fuzzy when he did something like that– letting your eyes droop until he nudged you to release them with a pop. He ran those fingers across your lips, watching you struggle to keep your eyes on him as his hand drifted downwards to wrap swiftly around your neck.  “That's better isn't it?” he pressed his clothed cock against your bare, swollen pussy, your panties surely on the verge of ripping the way they’d been pulled aside. Javier seemed to be thinking along the same lines as you, because in a moment he reached for them and urgently dragged them down your hips, unwrapping himself from your hold and holding your ankles in one hand as the other slid your panties all the way off of you. 

When you whined at the loss of his body against yours he tutted, raising his eyebrows at you in warning. 

He then grabbed your thigh with his hand once again, squeezing it and holding it in place against his waist. You heard the jingle of his belt as he undid it. A rough edge on said belt scraped against your skin, but it was difficult to pay attention to it when you felt him reach between your bodies to tease your dripping slit with his length. 

It was sad to admit, but nothing took the weight of your shoulders much like the feeling of his hard cock sliding against your wet pussy, head bumping your clit till you were shivering and then notching at your entrance. You heard him mutter a strained curse under his breath at the feeling of your cunt sucking him in. Javier didn't waste much time, as much as he seemed to enjoy the sight of you deliriously wiggling your hips under him. 

He leaned down and traced the curve of your jaw with the bridge of his nose, breathing in your scent as he pushed in– slowly and gently. Much slower and gentler than he had ever been before. Your legs tightened around him, hips lifting pathetically as you felt him stretch you open. It had been far too long since you’d had him inside you. 

“Such a good little girl..” His hips snapped towards yours. 

“Aren’t ya?” It was an out of body experience, so overwhelming and dizzying you could almost see yourself in the act. Your brain couldn’t comprehend that tone and that gentleness as is, forget when Javier’s cock dragged deliciously against your aching walls. 

Your elbows caved from under you, letting you fall completely back against your little desk. Your head went to fall back soon after, but Javier had managed to snake his hand behind your neck– cradling your head and shielding it from the hard wooden table. Instinctively, you buried your nose in the collar of his dress shirt. He let you seek respite, palm holding you against his warm body, and pressed a kiss to the nape of your neck. 

Your skin felt like pins and needles, little sparks bounced off your exposed waist and prompted you to wiggle your hips away from him at the intensity of the sensations. “Nah uh” yanking you back in his direction Javier squeezed your hips in his hands, refusing to let you escape the death grip he had on your body, pulling you towards him with every deep, slow, thrust. 

“Silly little thing” He laughed against your lips, so close they brushed against you. You couldn’t help it when your mouth fell slack against his. He took your bottom lip between his teeth. He released it as your walls clenched around him, brows knitting at the feel of your warm, soft cunt around his cock. 

“Mine aren’t ya? Daddy’s good little slut?” Unable to catch hold of anything on the table, your hands flew to his shirt, your fingers twisting the fabric as you gripped it as tightly as you could. He let you pull him towards you, one hand sneaking between your bodies to grab and squeeze at your breast. 

“Then you’re gonna take it like I give it to ya?” You tried to nod, head lulling side to side and mouth hanging open, desperate noises leaving your lips. When your back arched against the table he  pulled you into his chest, letting you wrap your legs around his waist so tightly you felt the leather of his belt cut into your soft skin. 

Eventually he picked up his pace, and you could make out the sound of your pens clattering to the ground as your back moved relentlessly against the desk. The dim grey flood light above you came in and out of your focus, the heat that swelled up inside you hindering your ability to concentrate on absolutely anything.  “Getting all cock drunk on me..” Anything but him. Yet another orgasm stirred in your tummy, your entire body hot and tingling with overwhelm. “There’s my good girl”. 

He pulled you into him with every thrust, his hard length throbbing inside of you. “Just how I like ya’– no thoughts in that head’ve yours.” Your bare chest pressed against his soft shirt, but you longed to feel the heat of his body against your skin. 

“Can't think ‘bout anything but daddy can you?” he managed to laugh, his thick cock dragging against your wet walls in a way that had your mouth falling open in a gasp. “Just daddy, ain't that right?” As usual he grabbed at every part of you he could, hands seeking purchase on any exposed skin. 

He grazed your earlobe with his teeth as he spoke. “Poor baby, going dumb on daddy.” All you could do was whine. “Can’t hear ya..” you whimpered again, strained and hasty “yes”s leaving your mouth at record speed as the tension in your core threatened to burst. 

“S’ how it should be” your dress made it easy for you to slide along the surface of the table as he fucked into your tight, wet heat, railing you as you twitched around him. You struggled to form a broken “daddy” between your lips. 

“Stupid little girl can’t do anything but be daddy’s little sexdoll hmm?” you shook your head, but he grabbed your cheeks between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed. “‘S okay babylove, s’ how daddy likes ya best” he shook your face gently, “when ya ain't runnin that smart mouth of yours.” 

He grunted and sighs above you, seemingly lost in his own pleasure, not bothering for the first time to make you beg. It was as if the two days you spent apart had him prioritising other things. “Better this way isn’t it, nothin you gotta worry that pretty head about…” you felt your cunt squeeze him. “Not when daddy’s fuckin’ ya’” 

You could tell he was close by the way his thick cock throbbed against your slick walls, the way his Texan accent came through just a little more than it usually did. Your thighs quivered against his waist as the heat continued to pool in your belly. 

You knew he was close when he straightened up again, hands wrapping firmly around your throat as he angled his hips to hit that sweet spot inside you over and over. “C’mon baby, be a good girl and come for daddy” he tightened his grip, thumb reaching up to swipe gently at your slack lips. 

You felt your pussy clench around his cock, finally letting go as you writhed under him. You heard him groan over the ringing in your ears, your own eyes rolling back as your orgasm rolled over you in waves. You gushed around him, your own release prompting his. 

Watching his brows knit as his thrusts got sloppy might have well sent you on a second release, aftershocks making your hips wiggle against his palms as he squeezed them, his cock throbbing inside you before he erupted with a shudder. A string of strained curses escaped his mouth, chest rising and falling rapidly as he rode out his high. 

You laid there, the heat from your exertion slowly dissipating. You felt Javier pull out, his spend trickling down your thighs, and slide your panties back up over your legs. A heaviness tugged at your limbs and made your eyelids droop. Every muscle felt loose, languid, as if all the tension and energy had been drawn out, leaving behind only a deep, satisfying fatigue. 

Javier put his hands on your waist and lifted you off the table, you returned to your habitual silence, this time albeit far more satiated than before. You were dizzy, feeling like a small ghost floating in front of him, engulfed by his towering form. The world around you began to fade, sounds muffling and blurring into an indistinct background hum.

Every blink became slower, your vision narrowing to slits before closing entirely. You let yourself drift into that warm state between sleep and wakefulness, the exhaustion of the week catching up to you in more ways than one, uncaring of the sense that Javier’s eyes had been lingering. You felt him trace the bridge of your nose, reducing any prospects of you actually getting off that desk. 

He fixed your lingerie and tied the bow of your dress back up, one hand returning to stroke your cheek. His other arm came to support your back as it wrapped around you, pulling you towards him. You looked up to find him watching you, with an expression you couldn’t bother to decipher at the moment. 

You couldn’t help but fall into his chest as he stood above you, his arms reaching behind you as he packed your things in your work bag. You felt your eyes flutter shut again, complete exhaustion taking over your weak form. He placed a kiss to your temple, lifting you off the table once and into his hold once again. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, locking securely at the ankles. His hands gripped your thighs firmly, fingers digging into your flesh.

You felt cold again suddenly, and Javier readjusted his arms to hold you with his right while his left rubbed along your shoulders to warm up your skin, prickled with goosebumps. 

Your head rested against his shoulder, the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek a comforting, rhythmic lull. You nuzzled deeper into the curve of his neck, tilting your head till your nose was brushing the cut of his jaw. 

Javier shifted slightly, and you could feel the subtle change in his posture as he leaned towards you, and his face came level with yours– you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, a stark contrast to the cool air around you. His hand cradled your cheek. 

With your eyes still closed you felt his lips press gently against yours, so pillowy and soft you barely registered them. He tasted how you’d imagined so many times before– cigarettes, and whiskey. Melting into his touch your hands moved to ball the fabric of his shirt gently in your fist. His lips moved against your’s with a carefulness you couldn’t really understand, but the fact that they were at all was enough. Exhaustion aside, you had a feeling the triviality of the whole ordeal, its comfort and normality seemed expected. And just as quickly as it began, it was over.

Perhaps it had always meant a lot more to you, than it did to him. 

The hand that was cupping your cheek pinched it and then snaked around your waist to help you find your footing on the ground, the same hand coming down to slap your ass as he pushed you towards the door. 

In usual Javier fashion he checked his phone, uninterestedly murmuring a soft “you can start again tomorrow” as you stood in the elevator. He let you lean against him, his palm coming down to pat your head momentarily before it was back to sorting the files in his hands.  You looked up at him, his mind now completely diverted to whatever he had come to collect in the office in the first place, so unbothered by what seemed to transpire between the two of you. 

Perhaps nothing really did. 

You wished his words gave you some motivation, but it was turning out to be really difficult to want to be anything more than his dumb, silly, little girl. 

Who else is gonna put up with me this way?

I need you, I breathe you, I'll never leave you!

They would rue the day I was alone, without you

You're lyin' with your gold chain on

Cigar hangin' from your lips, I said, "Hon'"

"You never looked so beautiful as you do now, my man"

sakjdlakd I'm sorry I just can't let them be happy lmao. Hope you enjoyed this, and let me know what you think. Thank you to everyone who reblogs and comments on my content, you keep me writing. Dividers and banners by @/sardika 🐝✨💗

[rippersz]

(ᴄᴏᴄᴋ)ʏ

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✩⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠✩

(A Larissa Weems x Fem!Reader ~1.5K Word Oneshot) (NSFW: G!P; Face-Fucking; Lewd Language; Praise; Mommy Kink)

✩⢄⢁✧ --------- ✧⡈⡠✩

Fuck, she felt good.

So good.

So heavenly. So right.

Even in the state she was in, moaning and huffing and growling with desire, head thrown back with her eyes bared to the ceiling. As though she was thanking the gods for your body and the pleasure you were willing to give her. No. Not give her. The pleasure you were willing to give up. That she was willing to take. Grasping your head in the way that she was, her knuckles turning red and bruised with the way she wedged them between your hair and the wall. Digging her fingers into your locks as though she’d make it to your skull if she pressed hard enough. Just keeping you there. Keeping you just right.

“Don’t move,” she panted earlier, her accent coming second to the raspy husk of her tone. So deep in pleasure she was- so lost to her own instincts.

Your poor lover. Your dear Larissa. She’d regret being so rough in a few hours, when you have trouble moving your neck and your throat is raw and scratchy - but you’ll comfort her as you always do and tell her that if she asked to do it again in a few days, you wouldn’t hesitate to say yes.

As it were, she didn’t even ask. The situation simply fell into both sets of your hands. Your pretty darling, unable to take care of herself after she got ready for the banquet, nearly out the door when the mental image of you in lingerie had her stumbling back to the bed and nearly ripping off her panties with haste to take her ecstasy into her own hands. And then you, walking into the room to grab her and greet the guests, only to find her on the side of the bed, rutting against her slim pretty fingers. She looked beautiful in her sweet flush-cheeked glory, but her palm was slippery and clumsy and she hadn’t gotten herself off in so long that you just had to help. How cruel it would have been to leave her like that.

And so, as you teased, came the escalation.

And so, as you moaned around her length, the true admittance of desire.

And so, your head pressed against the wall, your legs trembling and spread out in front of you, and the weight of her cock pressed against the back of your throat. Bullying it to bruise as she pumped her hips with unmatched strength and then held you there, her plush thighs quivering when your lips and nose pressed to the light curls at the base of her cock. Sheathing herself inside you, using you with a pathetic amount of need. Doubled over at the waist and eyes rolling back with an overwhelming- burning- amount of pleasure once your body’s instincts kick in and your throat squeezes the sensitive curve of her shaft. Constricting around her to the point where it makes you both ache and it makes your chest stutter and she’s forced to wrench herself away while pushing your head back against her fingertips, even though there’s nowhere else for you to go. Huffing and puffing and breathing so deeply while she watches you gasp for breath and shiver.

Eyes meeting while the spit from the red of your lips and the pink tip of her cock only spiderwebs and dips - not even destroyed by gravity before she’s pushing herself forward again and pressing herself to your mouth; waiting with desperate wanting eyes as you recover and open yourself up for her again. And again. And again - and again - and again. Over and over and over. Until your vision is blurred with tears, and your face is warm and stiff from some long dried and some still falling, collecting by your chin to mix with the drool that spills from your lips. A steady stream of your devotion, given and taken willingly - with enthusiastic consent as she pushed you against the wall and lined you up with her cock and you nearly fell over the edge on the spot; happy to help your darling lover. Happy to have her want you. Happy to please her and listen to her whines as she feels herself get close.

“P-please- right there- yes. T-take it. Take it. Deeper. Yesss.” Arching her back and clenching the muscles in her legs, making you moan with appreciation at the feel of her strength beneath your hands. Palms running over her calves and her shins and her thighs, desperate to make her feel good- so good. And letting your own eyes close when she leans over and whimpers, trying to control her breathing long enough to praise you. To tell you-

“Good- ungh- girl - fuck, oh gods- so- so good to me- f-for me… for- Mo-Mommy!” Both of your bodies humming with pure delight when she gives herself her honorable title, inhaling on a sharp breath before the most erotic moan slips out of her perfectly painted mouth. Red lips opening and closing, white teeth pressing together, hissing and growling as you tug her closer and keep her cock in your throat; the weight of it pressed to your tongue, the feel of it against the roof of your mouth as you try to swallow. All of it heavenly and soft and something divine as she slows down and eases herself in as far as she can go- until your chin brushes the softness of her balls and the tip of your nose prods the ticklish curls near her groin.

“Through your nose, darling,” she speaks slowly, softly, her beautiful chest rising and falling with short breaths as you do as told and take a moment to fight through the instinctive urge to gag. Allowing time to slow as you keep your eyes on hers and watch her nod while a slow smile crawls across her lips- unspoken praise falling from her as she hears and sees the way you inhale, inhale, inhale, hold it, and then exhale, exhale, exhale - your throat working around her cock while you train yourself to take it.

Always.

Any day.

Anywhere.

Your lower back numb from the feeling of sitting on the floor for so long, your panties ruined beyond belief as you leak and twitch and throb in tandem with your lover’s body, your brain fuzzy and your throat sore and your ears kind of ringing - but finding none of it matters when she looks down at you with wide eyes and feels you moan around her length and is suddenly pressing you so close, so hard, that you can’t breathe at all.

Drooling and groaning and whimpering as she pumps herself into your warm mouth, hips moving like mad with unchecked desire as her breath catches in her throat.

“Oh baby- baby I’m gonn- gonna- fuck darl-ing. Momm-Mommy’s gonna- gonna cum- please- pleasepleaseplease- please let me-”

And you don’t even hesitate to nod, using your tongue to lap at the sides of her pretty cock as she moves, silently begging her to cum down your throat- hard and fast and pleasurable enough to see fucking stars- as tears build in your eyes. Blinking them away quickly, your nails digging into her thighs, your body in flames with ecstasy as she meets your gaze and her lips fall open and she whimpers your name in a small squeak while the thick of her cock twitches. Spasms. Folded over you, forehead nearly pressed to the wall, as she keeps you there- keeps you there- keeps you there-

-yes!

Yes!

Fuck Larissa! Fuck you feel so- so- good- god yes!

And a fulfilling, satisfying warmth spills down the back of your throat, fast and thick as she shudders and groans and feels the way you constrict around her when you swallow it all without pause. Like it’s second nature, taking it like your life’s fucking duty, such a good little cockslut for Larissa Weems as you close your eyes and ignore the tears and the drool and the burn and the numb and the desire and instead focus on the way she finally breathes with unparalleled relief. Knowing her sweet girl is there to take her cum whenever she wants- to feel her in her throat or around her fingers or her tongue or resting on her lips- always eager to be of service. To be a good girl and take your Mommy like the desperate little whore you are. Her chest filling with breath while the last of her climax runs through her body; her pretty cock twitching and throbbing with aftershocks until the last of her cum is lapped up and you’re pushing against her thighs - telling her with as much kindness as you can for her to step back so you don’t pass out. And when she does, shivering and taking her hands away from your head and gently leaning it against the wall to slide stray bits of hair back behind your ears, your own chest heaves with delight. Grateful for the air, savoring the last of her in your mouth- salty and human and all hers, and happy to remove your shaking hands from her thighs so you can reach up and wipe the spit from your mouth.

“You did so well for me darling,” you hear her hum a moment later. “You always do.”

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My fucking dream come true. Have a good day. Love you lots. - Rip x

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(Too tired for tags today sorry darlings)

[thebellearchives]

𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐘

~ solomon ; obey me

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : staring at Solomon you realise how lucky you are to be by his side and how much more time you’d like to spend with him

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!reader, fluff, second part to blessed although you don’t need to read it to understand this one

‧₊˚ a / n : i was having a hopeless romantic moment and remembered that sol shot i wrote for @nnnneeev (‘: blessed was centered around solomon’s thoughts so i thought it would be nice to write mc’s thoughts this time! enjoy!

You look up from the book you’re holding. Across the table, Solomon squints a little as he studies the amount of liquid in the vial before pouring it in a small cauldron. The sight of him makes you instantly forget all of the words printed in the old book he lent you. You forget your surroundings, the question you were about to ask, the experiment you had been helping him with. Your eyes glide all over him, his long fingers reach for a flower and pick out three petals. His silver eyes flicker towards the book on his right side, double checking he’s using the right amount, and his pearly hair almost hides those beautiful irises from you.

Every little thing about him captures your attention, the way his long white lashes frame his eyes as he goes back to the cauldron, the ways he slightly licks his lower lip unconsciously. If it weren’t for those little movements you’d think he’s a figment of your imagination, but it’s the way his pupils dilate slightly when he uses a little bit of fire to burn the petals that makes you think that yes, he’s real. He’s alive, he breathes the same air as you and my god, it feels like a dream. He looks like a dream.

It’s not like you’d usually forget all that you’ve been through in the devildom, but when you have the chance to admire him you do. You don’t remember how you ended up helping him with this new experiment, how you ended up being his apprentice. One day you were living your life up in the human world and the next you were staring at the immortal sorcerer who had showed you more than you would’ve ever believed real. It’s a privilege, really, to have in front of you someone as knowledgeable and passionate as him. You could hardly believe he was who he was, or the position you had found yourself in.

You hadn’t lived as much as he had, that was for sure, but it was moments like this that made it all worth it. And maybe, just maybe, he thought the same way? Maybe he was finally content with the life his immortality had brought him to? It had been a long time since he said something negative about it, you had noticed.

He calls your name then, and you jolt a little, blinking repeatedly as he snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Are you okay?” he chuckles, his bright smile has you swooning in your head “are you having trouble with the book?”

“No” you shake your head and smile back “sorry, i just kinda zoned out”

“Yeah? What were you thinking about?” he raises his brows curiously, a little teasing smile curves the corners of his lips.

You remain silent for a second, trying to decide if you want to be honest or just play it off. Until you remember some words he told you weeks ago, and you smile a little too.

“Just that you’re the best thing to have ever happened to me.”

You know you caught him off guard when his hands stop mid-air. His eyes widen a bit, and you notice the way his cheeks slowly start turning red little by little. He clears his throat, flustered, resuming the potion process.

“I’m… honoured you think that way, angel”

A warm feeling sits on your chest at his tender tone, and the blush in his cheeks makes you feel a little proud. You know he’s not as good at receiving compliments as he thinks he is, and you finally understand why he finds it so amusing to fluster you too. You knew it then: you’d never regret eternity if you could spend it by his side.

[a-killer-obsession]

G, P, U 12 or 14+15 or all three?👀👀

Two Silly Boys

Prompt: Degradation/Sex Pollen/Unbearable

Additional Tags: afab reader, she/her pronouns, begging, oral (receiving), ass eating (receiving), petplay dog/master, double penetration (anal + vaginal), anal fingering, outdoor sex, semi-public sex

WC: 2.8k

Event Masterlist

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

Going out to sea to explore the world was something you'd dreamed of doing since you were a child, so when captain of the Heart Pirates, Trafalgar Law, offered you a place on his crew as their resident botanist you happily accepted. Much like you, Law was a healer, but while he practised modern medicine, you used more traditional methods. It was one of the reasons he was so keen on having you join, he'd come to learn the hard way several times in his journey that modern medicines and remedies weren't always available, and while he knew a little about the botany in North Blue and how to use it to heal, the flora of the Grandline was a whole different ordeal. He wanted to learn from you, as well as teach his crew how to stay safe when there were so many unfamiliar and dangerous plants in the New World. Born and raised on the Grandline, New World flora was your specialty, and you were happy to share your knowledge. In truth, it was nice to have someone who cared enough to listen.

Being botanist to the Heart Pirates did have its downsides though, namely two of them: Shachi and Penguin. You couldn't possibly fathom how no matter how many times you scolded them, they always ended up in the infirmary after touching or eating a plant that they shouldn't have. It drove you insane, you swore next time they needed a healing tincture that you'd just let them suffer. The two of them never learned, and somehow it always fell to you to fix their mistakes, because they didn't want the captain to literally rearrange their limbs for being such idiots.

A new uninhabited island loomed on the horizon, docking procedures already underway, and you sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, having no doubt you'd be seeing them in the infirmary later. You gave the crew the usual talk; don't touch or eat anything without checking with you first, don't pick anything, don't stomp on mushrooms even if they look cool and squishable. You hoped the trouble makers were listening but you knew they weren't. Once docked, you spent the afternoon with the crew, exploring the island and collecting herbs and flowers that you knew had medical uses and gathering them carefully in a basket. You were especially delicate with a flower you recognised as having use for treating libido and erectile issues, you had no use for it but you thought Law might be interested in its properties for the way it increased blood flow, so you carefully picked several and placed them in an airtight jar.

You returned to the ship to store and organise your forage, setting some aside for drying and making notes and sketches in your journal about the variety of flora on the island. Forage sorted and put away, you left the ship again for a more causal, exploratory wander. The others had declared after a thorough search that there was no danger on this island, there were barely any large animals at all which meant the only predators were too small to truly endanger a human. Confident you were safe on your own, you wandered into the forest. You weren't worried about getting lost, you had an exceptional sense of direction and worst case the island was only about a three hour walk wide, you would appear on a beach eventually if you walked in a straight line, and from there you could just circle it to the ship.

An hour into your leisurely walk and the sound of moaning caught your attention. At first you thought you'd accidently stumbled on a few crewmates taking advantage of the dense forest, and turned to leave and give them privacy, till the moans mixed with pained curses and desperate cries. They sounded like they were injured so you hurried towards the sound, already pulling off your backpack to grab your emergency supplies. You skidded to a stop when the crewmates came into view though. The troublemakers, who else. What shocked you however was their current predicament. Naked as the day they were born, covered in a sheen of sweat, dicks in each other's hands, desperately pulling at each other. You weren't sure you'd even seen them without their signature hats before, Shachi's orange-brown hair falling over his face in sweat slickened strands, Penguin's short black hair dusted with dirt like he'd at some point been laying down.

“Yes, yes, yes, noooooooo,” Penguin cried out, so close to an edge but unable to topple over it. He shoved Shachi hard, instigating a round of aggressive fighting, uncaring of their nudity as they fought in the dirt. “You're not doing it right!”

“Neither are you!!” Shachi yelled back, kneeing him in the gut, “how hard could it possibly be to make another dude cum!”

“Ask your fucking self, useless prick!” Penguin decked him with a solid punch right to the jaw and Shachi quickly returned it with his own, the two best friends shocking you with the force they laid into each other and spat insults, covered in bruises, their erect cocks bouncing with every movement.

“CUT IT OUT! BOTH OF YOU!” you snapped at them, emerging from the treeline and grabbing them both by an ear, pulling them away from each other as they winced at your hard hold. “What the fuck is wrong with you two?”

You could barely understand a word they were saying as they both yelled over each other, not even bothering to cover themselves. You caught something about hiking, something about a dare maybe? And ah… a flower. Of fucking course.

“Stop, stop,” you sighed, releasing them to run hands down your tired face, “did you two idiots touch a flower? Yellow? Pink tips? Six pedals?”

“We uh..” Penguin started.

“...we ate it,” Shachi finished. You let out a pained groan, throwing your head back. God, these fucking two, you wanted to scream.

“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU TWO IDIOTS NOT TO TOUCH THINGS?!” you shouted, the two of them now cowering at your feet. You couldn't help but notice the way the subtly touched your legs, it was the effects of the flower no doubt. “Why the fuck did you eat it?”

“It smelt nice!” Shachi wined, “and it tasted sweet so Penguin ate one too”

“But then we… got… hard,” Penguin sighed.

“How long have you dumbasses been out here jerking each other off?” You sighed.

“... three hours,” Shachi whined, practically nuzzling against your leg. You couldn't help the electricity it sent to your core, you'd never seen just how muscular the two of them were under the boilersuits, not to mention their sizable cocks. Nothing quite like two muscled men on their knees to get a girl going.

“What do we doooooo [y/n]?” Penguin cried, nestling against your other leg, the two of them each claiming a leg and running their hands up them as they knelt in front of you.

“The flower you two idiots ate is a powerful aphrodisiac,” you explained, allowing them some small relief by scratching their scalps, making them let out little whines. God, they were like animals in heat. “The flower relies on the wildlife around it to eat the flowers so their nose spreads pollen from one plant to the next. It encourages the production of said wildlife by setting them into a breeding frenzy. More animals means more opportunity to spread pollen. You two knuckleheads are no smarter than a wild boar, its working exactly as intended”

“So what do we do?” Shachi whined, “we… we tried doing it ourselves, we tried helping each other, but we can't… we can't finish”

“That's because the flower wants you to breed,” you sighed, “for a mammal with a phallus, you need to finish inside another. If you were females, you'd need someone to finish inside you. Men have died from this you know? You'll keep going till you either do what the flower wants, or until you drop dead”

“So we just… have to fuck?” Penguin asked coyly.

“Yup, good luck fellas,” you shook them off your legs and turned to leave, “don't forget to warm each other up first!”

“Wait… no!” Shachi looked at Penguin and almost cried, “we're not into men! I'm not doing that!”

“Speak for yourself…” Penguin muttered.

“Shut up Peng!” Shachi shouted, shoving him and setting off another fist fight, “you're not fucking my ass! Or my mouth for that matter!”

You made an annoyed groan as you pulled them off each other again, the two of them quickly reclaiming your legs, more aggressive with their touches now, hands travelling past the hem of your skirt.

“Let us fuck you! Please!” Penguin begged.

“We'll make you feel so good, I promise!” Shachi added. You rolled your eyes at them but couldn't deny the arousal pooling between your legs as the two men begged for you and ran hands up your thighs. It was a tempting predicament. You weren't sure anyone had ever helped two pollen victims before either, it could be interesting research to observe how they interacted with each other. Would they work together? Would they fight for dominance? It was a fascinating proposition.

“Fine,” you relented, parting your legs slightly, “but you two pathetic boys better make me cum till I see stars or I'm telling the captain”

They didn't even bother to give you a verbal reply before they were all over you, running their tongues up your legs and tugging at your clothes. Shachi stood and pulled off your shirt as Penguin unzipped your skirt, letting it fall to the ground. They were like rabid dogs as they saw your underwear, and they made quick work of it, Shachi removing your bra, sucking on your breasts and groping them roughly as he stood beside you, while Penguin tugged down your panties and pulled you to rest your core on his face. You had to rely on Shachi to keep you upright as Penguin pulled your leg over his shoulder, and you cried out as he immediately drove his tongue between your folds, lapping at you like a parched dog, messily licking up any slick he could find and bullying his tongue inside you to find more.

“Fuck, Peng,” you moaned, hips rolling as you rode his tongue, “just like that, fuck. Who knew such a dumb, useless dog would have some use? Good dog, lap me up good,” Penguin moaned into you at your words, doubling his efforts, and you swore you heard him bark against your pussy.

“Am I a good dog too?” Shachi whined, letting your breast go with a pop to look at you with needy eyes.

“I don't see you eating your food like a good boy,” you huffed, “get on your knees and I'll see if you're worth my time”

Shachi dropped to his knees behind you, making a definite bark before pulling your cheeks apart and running his tongue against your asshole. If he had a tail, you had no doubt it’d be waggling. You shivered at the wet muscles lapping at you, feeling the way the two men's tongues occasionally met between your legs as they ate you out from both sides, Shachi's tongue bullying its way inside your tight hole. You reached one hand back to hold his head for support, a hand buried in each man's hair as they made growls and sloppy sounds against you, their cocks twitching untouched as they serviced you.

“Good dogs,” you purred, “fuck, gonna cum right on your faces, hnng~”

Penguin made a excited sounding yelp as you gushed on his face, and you cried out as Shachi took the opportunity to slip a finger in your ass, spitting on it and adding a second, your whole body tingling as he finger fucked you through your already intense orgasm. The two of them didn’t let up, Shachi’s tongue running over your ass and thighs before adding a third finger, stretching you open so you could take him.

“Good dogs,” you panted, barely able to keep yourself upright with the way your legs were quickly turning to jelly, “the two of you have worked hard, now show me how feral you are and come fuck me”

They moved faster than you could comprehend, working in tandem to get you in position so they could both fuck you. You expected them to lay you down, but instead Shachi lifted you so Penguin could slide inside your pussy, making you gasp at how fast he went to the hilt, before Penguin grabbed you himself and you wrapped your limbs around him. Shachi held your hips steady as he lined himself up with your ass, then he spat on his cock pumped it a few times to spread it. You held your breath, wincing a little from the stretch as he slid inside you slowly. They both held you still for a moment to adjust, the three of you panting heavily, both boys working hard to hold back and not just immediately slam into you. You gave them a small nod to let them know you were ready, mentally bracing yourself for what you knew would be a rough fuck given the effects of the flower. Shachi held your hips bruisingly tight, Penguin supporting your thighs, and the two of them began working in sync to lift and drop you, using you like a toy to get themselves off as they made deep thrusts in time. Between the strength of the two of them you were practically weightless, thrown around like a ragdoll as they grunted like rabid animals and fucked you mercilessly hard. Every hard thrust knocked the wind out of you till all you could do was whine as they used your body, quickly bringing you to orgasm again. Liquid dripped down their thighs from your release, wetting the dirt below you, the sound of them fucking your holes making sloppy sounds that echoed in the trees mingled with your collective moans.

“So good, good dogs,” you moaned, your tits squeezed against Penguin’s hard pecs, sweat making the three of you sticky as it collected between your bodies, your back pressed against Shachi’s front.

“Cum for us again, please,” Penguin whined.

“Need it. Need to feel you cum again,” Shachi added, his teeth grazing your shoulder.Penguin leaned back a little so he could rub your clit hard with his thumb, and you felt yourself spiralling.

“Fuck, fuck,” you cried, “cumming”

The two of them made deep groans that vibrated through you as they felt you squeeze around them, unable to let out your own moan from how hard you were cumming, the air entirely knocked out of you. All you could do was shake and see white dots in your vision as the two of them unloaded inside you, finally finding relief from the flower as they gave it what it wanted. The amount of cum they put in you was immense, another side effect of the flower, your two holes immediately dripping with white as they pulled out and held you steady while you found your footing and you practically collapsed against Penguin’s chest. Shachi grabbed the tank top he usually wore under his boiler suit and shook the dirt off, then he used it to do what he could to clean the impressive amount of collective fluids from you, your legs shaking and threatening to give out as he dragged it carefully through your oversensitive core. Penguin continued to wordlessly keep you upright while Shachi dressed himself, then they switched. Once the two of them were dressed they helped you, laying soft kisses and gentle, thankful caresses over your body as they pulled your clothes back on, before Shachi lifted you into a bridal hold.

“So what did we learn?” you yawned as they started to carry you back to the ship.

“Eat strange flowers,” Shachi gave you a shit eating grin. You smacked him hard on the chest and he pouted.

“I’m telling Law,” you threatened.

“Please don’t!” Penguin begged, “I promise not to dare Shachi to eat weird plants, and I pinky promise to not eat any myself!”

“Shachi?” you raised a brow. He rolled his eyes and readjusted his hold on you, making you squeak as you were jostled.

“Fineeeee,” he groaned, “I promise not to eat any more random flowers, even if they get me laid”

“I could have just let you die you know,” you huffed.

“I won’t do it again!” Shachi yelped as you pulled hard on his ear.

“Good dog,” you smiled.

“Woof!” they both replied.

[greensagephase]

Double Trouble (One - Shot Miguel O'Hara 18+)

Pairing: 2099 Miguel O'Hara X Female Reader X Variant Miguel O'Hara Summary: You live a normal life in a different dimension with your own version of Miguel but one day Miguel from Earth-928 shows up, leading to interesting times. Word Count: 2.574 Warnings: p in v, oral (male receiving), nipple play (f), fingering, this has no plot, MINORS DNI Masterlist

You live in your dimension with your own version of Miguel. Your Miguel is sweet and kind, and a perfect lover. You have been dating for three years now and you have the feeling that soon enough he will propose, though you’re in no hurry. You feel secure in your relationship and you two love each other. You live in an apartment with Miguel and have a comfortable life. You work from home and Miguel works at Alchemax as a geneticist.

Your lives are perfectly normal, happy, and comfortable until one day another Miguel enters your apartment. You immediately notice this man, while he looks like your Miguel, is not your Miguel. He has a more serious look on his face and he’s far more muscular than your Miguel. After he scares you by grabbing and holding you against the wall, you manage to calm him down until he lets you go. You comfort him with your soothing voice, telling him that whatever is going on in his head is okay despite your own fear of what was happening.

There was another Miguel and you didn’t know how that was even possible. As you calm this stranger, you coax some facts from him. He eventually reveals to you that he came from another dimension.

“Earth-928. The year is 2099,” he tells you.

It takes a few minutes for you to wrap your brain around this but the concept of a multiverse is not something completely unknown to you as your Miguel is a scientist and he has talked about other scientists playing with the idea of a possible multiverse.

You offer food and comfort to this 2099 Miguel, feeling sadness for him as he tells you a bit more about his life and the reason he showed up to your dimension. He realized there was a variant of him, your Miguel, here and something had come over him. He explained he was in your apartment before he could stop himself. You can’t help but want to ease his pain and stress, being unable to turn him away as he looks like your Miguel, for the most part. You notice 2099 Miguel is more muscular and he explains it’s because of his job. You nod when he tells you that. Your Miguel is pretty muscular, too, but because he works out. You can’t imagine the heavy work 2099 Miguel must do to have those laterals.

When your own Miguel arrives, 2099 Miguel is still there. There is shock and confusion from your Miguel as he sees nearly an exact clone of himself sitting on the couch, drinking tea.

You explain everything to your Miguel as the other one nods occasionally. 2099 Miguel can’t help but feel something for you as you explain to your own Miguel how this happened. You’re so understanding and sweet, making him long even more for the life your Miguel has. He has you, and 2099 Miguel wishes he did, too.

After his own shock, your Miguel just sits nearby. His mind whirls with thoughts as he processes what he has heard and seeing as he stares at himself. As a scientist, he’s in awe with the story but he also feels odd about one of his own versions showing up. He wonders what exactly this Miguel wants, showing up at like that out of nowhere.

You cannot help but feel bad for this other version of your boyfriend. You invite 2099 Miguel for dinner the next day, not knowing why. You tell your boyfriend later that night, when 2099 Miguel is gone, that you just feel bad for him and it’s something nice the two of you could do for his variant.

2099 Miguel shows up for dinner the next day. At the end of that dinner, he’s invited again for next week. It becomes a thing. Once a week 2099 Miguel shows up for dinner at your apartment. Miguel, 2099 Miguel, and you hang out and have dinner. Miguel and you listen with fascination to the stories that 2099 Miguel has from his own universe, while he seems pleased to have someone enjoy his stories.

Months pass and your friendship grows. Sometimes 2099 Miguel shows up in the middle of the day when you’re working from home. Thanks to your job, you can chat with him for an hour or so before he has to head back to his universe. Your own Miguel finds 2099 Miguel interesting as they’re both scientists and the reluctance of your Miguel dissipates as he, too, begins to feel compassion for his own variant.

So, everything is going great. There’s a friendship. You all have a great time and look forward to the weekly dinner.

It’s until one night that the three of you are drinking and that things take a turn. You end up in your bedroom, lying at the edge of the bed as the two Miguels stand over you. They’re both looking down at you, their eyes filled with lust. As you look up at them, you feel heat spread through your body.

Before you know it, the three of you are completely naked and both men are touching you. Their hands roam your body, exploring different parts of your body, overwhelming your mind as it struggles to keep up with their touches.

You stand between them, your back pressed to your Miguel as 2099 Miguel’s body is pressed to your front. You can feel their cocks touching your skin and you can’t help but take a peek at 2099 Miguel’s, noticing it’s slightly larger than your Miguel’s but they are roughly the same size. The idea of the two of them makes your pussy even more wet.

You feel your Miguel’s hands on your breasts now as he begins to play with your nipples. You moan softly, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes.

“Look how pretty you look,” 2099 Miguel whispers, as he leans closer to your face, his fingers grazing your chin. “You enjoy that?” he asks, referring to having your nipples played with.

You open your eyes as you hear his deep voice and feel his hot breath on your face. You nod, unable to speak at the sensations your body is experiencing right now.

“She loves it, right, hermosa?” your Miguel asks in a whisper, as he leans down and kisses the side of your neck.

As your Miguel fondles with your nipples and presses kisses to the side of your neck, 2099 Miguel’s hands are now resting on your hips, sliding down the sides. They remain there while he leans down and kisses you, biting your lower lip gently afterward. His hands move down, until one of them reaches your slit. You gasp softly at his touch.

Your body is already beginning to feel overwhelmed as your Miguel is still playing with your nipples, twisting and tugging at them and now 2099 Miguel’s fingers are sliding up and down your slit. A loud moan escapes your mouth as you feel him press a finger.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” 2099 Miguel mutters as he kisses your chin. “You’re ready for us, bonita?”

“Let me see, Miguel,” your Miguel says, and you open your eyes just in time to see 2099 Miguel show his long finger to Miguel. You can see your wetness glistening on his finger.

“Hermosa, you are enjoying this, baby?” your Miguel asks, and you nod, your mind foggy with need.

The two men continue to kiss you in different areas. Your neck, your face, your lips, your shoulders, and back. 2099 Miguel takes your hands and kisses them softly before you feel his free hand slide down your body until he reaches your heat. He kisses your lips gently before he slips a finger into you, making you jolt against your Miguel in both pleasure and surprise.

“Miguel,” you moan softly.

“You sound so pretty moaning our name, bonita,” 2099 Miguel says as he starts pumping his long, thick finger into your squelching pussy.

The sensations of having both your nipples played with while being fingered is already so overwhelming to your senses that you begin to back into your Miguel, trying to escape 2099 Miguel’s touch but your Miguel’s body is like an iron wall. You cannot escape 2099 Miguel’s fingering and when you open your eyes, he’s looking down at you with a smirk, pleased to see that his touch is already too much for you. He caresses your face for a second as he continues to pump his finger into you before he surprisingly slides another one.

“Fuc-“ you start but are unable to finish as your head lands on 2099 Miguel’s chest now. Your hands are on his bare abdomen, trying to keep yourself steady as he pumps his fingers into you faster. The men watch and hears your moans of pleasure before they step away from you. You whimper as 2099 Miguel pulls his fingers out of you, leaving you empty.

“Please,” you say as you watch him bring his fingers to his mouth, sucking your juices.

“Que rico sabes, bonita,” 2099 Miguel tells you, still cleaning his fingers, before each man takes one of your wrists, carefully tugging you to the bed.

You’re immediately told to get on all fours before you hear the men whispering to themselves. You’re so needy for them, you don’t really pay attention to what they say. All you know is that your Miguel is suddenly behind you, slapping his cock on your ass before he grabs your arms, tugging you back into his chest. This gives 2099 Miguel the opportunity to slide into bed and position himself, his legs parting to give you space to settle between them. When your Miguel lets go of your arms, you get on all fours again, understanding what the agreement between the men was. When you get into position, 2099 Miguel’s cock is right in front of your face.

You don’t even try to hide the fact that you’re looking at it and 2099 Miguel smirks as he sees your face. You feel like your mouth is watering at the sight of it, and suddenly all you want is for your Miguel to take you from behind as you suck 2099 Miguel’s cock.

Your wish comes true as your Miguel rubs his cock on your slit, covering it in your wetness.

“Fuck, hermosa, you’re dripping wet,” your Miguel groans as he feels your pussy’s wetness. “Are you gonna be a good girl for us, baby?”

You nod, too overwhelmed to respond but 2099 Miguel reaches for your face, gripping your chin gently.

“You have to say it, bonita. Can you handle the two of us?”

“Yes, yes. I can take it,” you answer eagerly and 2099 Miguel nods, giving your chin a gentle squeeze.

Your Miguel rubs his cock on your slit one more time before he pushes the tip in, making the two of you moan before he slides the rest in with no effort. He begins to slide in and out of you, making him grunt behind you as he supports himself by grabbing your ass.

2099 Miguel’s hand is still on your chin, he’s watching you for now, enjoying the sight of you getting fucked by… basically himself. His eyes scan your face, and he has a cheeky grin as his eyes fall on your closed eyes and parted lips. He eventually squeezes your chin again, making you open your eyes. You meet his eyes before your gaze falls on his large cock. 2099 Miguel can’t help but look at your pretty mouth and wonder how you’ll look with your mouth wrapped around his cock. The moment your eyes see his tip oozing with pre-cum, you immediately lower your head. You lick the tip, cleaning the pre-cum from his tip, earning yourself a low moan from him. As your Miguel fucks your pussy from behind, you begin to suck 2099 Miguel’s cock, taking as much as you can into your mouth.

Despite wanting to close your eyes in pleasure, you keep them open and stare at 2099 Miguel as you suck his cock. He’s grunting your name softly with his head thrown back in pleasure.

“Fuck, bonita, así," he praises you as his hand finds its way to your head. He slides his fingers into your hair, taking a handful of it to move your head to his preference.

You continue to suck his cock, feeling his tip at the back of your throat now. Tears begin to form in your eyes, especially as he begins to bop your head lower, making you take more of him. The sensations of your warm, and drooling mouth makes 2099 Miguel grunt even louder. Your mouth feels so good around his big cock that he begins to lift his hips. You moan as you feel his cock hit the back of your throat even more now.

“So beautiful, hermosa. You feel so fucking good for us,” your Miguel grunts from behind, as he pounds faster into your wet pussy now, hearing you and 2099 Miguel getting closer.

The room is filled with obscene sounds. Their loud grunts and praises for you taking them so well fills your ears. You can also hear the sound of flesh to flesh as your ass repeatedly makes contact with Miguel’s thighs as he thrusts into you. In exchange, your moans, trapped in your throat as your mouth is full of 2099 Miguel’s cock, is music to their ears.

It doesn’t take long for the three of you to reach your peak. You come on Miguel’s cock and both Miguels finish in your holes, filling them with their warm, thick cum. Your body collapses over 2099 Miguel as you swallow his load, exhausted. You feel the men caress your body as they praise you, while panting.

“Better recover, hermosa,” your Miguel tells you lovingly, watching his cum leak out of your pussy. “That was just round one. It’s Miguel’s turn with your pussy. And I get that pretty mouth of yours.”

---

You wake up the next morning, feeling exhausted but awoken by delightful sensations. You feel wetness on your breasts and when you open your eyes, you find both Miguels resting their heads on your chest as each one sucks one of your nipples. You moan softly as they release your nipples almost at the same time with a loud pop.

“Good morning, hermosa,” your Miguel says, using his usual nickname for you.

“Hope you slept good, bonita,” 2099 Miguel says, with a teasing smile.

You lay between them as they are still pretty much all over you. You begin to remember everything that happened last night, and you feel embarrassed and worried about what your Miguel will say but as you look at him, he doesn’t seem mad. In fact, both men look comfortable with each other, and you can’t help but wonder if they talked before you woke up.

“Um – good morning,” you say, reaching for the bed sheets to cover yourself, suddenly feeling self-conscious as you lay there with your exposed chest.

But it’s to no avail because both Miguels reach for the bed sheets, tugging them out of your grip and throwing them to the end of the bed, revealing the rest of your naked body, and theirs, too.

Your eyes immediately land on their cocks, already hard and ready for you.

_____________________________

Translation for Italicized words: Hermosa - gorgeous Bonita – pretty, beautiful Que rico sabes – You taste so good Así - Like that

Can't believe I thought of this during family dinner time. I'm not seeing the pearly gates 🥲Also, first time writing smut despite reading it since a teenager lol. Miguel O'Hara, what have you done to me?!😭

[dovveri]

Hey!!! Pookie!!! Could i request

A little filthy/fluffy fluttering Bottom MiNayeon x reader(Female obviously)

Where one is brat n the other is obedience..... (Externally......)

Thanks pookie ❤️😘

pretty princess syndrome

synopsis: the princess has gone missing on the night of her ball. you find her and teach her a lesson for disappearing on you.

warnings: smut! - cursing, degradation, spanking, cunnilingus, fingering, masturbation, slight voyeurism

w/c: 5.5k

a/n: plain smut with a little plot at the end bcs i ltr can't write smut on its own RAAAH enjoy :P also ik the ask says mina but they corrected it afterwards bcs they saw i only write for namosa so ty anon for checking <3

“where is she?”

the maid stumbles backwards a little, intimidated by the glare you’re giving her.

“baby, i’m going to ask nicely one more time. where is she?”

“i-i d-don’t know. s-she said she was just going to b-bathroom.”

you narrow her eyes at her, “are you seriously going to lie to me right now baby? are you trying to get in trouble as well?”

“n-no! i’m n-not lying i swear! that’s what s-she told me!”

you scoff, “looks like i have two brats to deal with tonight.” you grab her wrist roughly, tugging her along the castle walls.

she yelps a little, “o-ow, hurts baby-“

“shut up. liars shouldn't be allowed to speak.” you sneer at her, pulling her roughly up the stairs towards the royal chambers.

she cries out when she slips on one of the steps, you’re quick to pull her up, tutting in annoyance before leaning down and hoisting her up onto your hips. her legs immediately wrap around you and she buries her face into your neck, whimpering a little.

“stupid bitch. can’t even walk properly. need me to carry you huh?” you continue up the stairs, one hand secured around her waist.

“‘m sorry ‘m sorry-“ she mumbles against your neck.

you click your tongue again, making sure she’s comfortable around you, and then strutting down towards the princess’ quarters.

you don’t bother knocking, slamming open the double doors.

the two men inside startle at the sound, quick to stand up and attempt to cover themselves. you scoff.

“who the hell are you? how dare you interrupt her majesty in her private chambers!”

you carefully place the woman around your hips down. she’s quick to go down into a bow but you stop her before she can kneel.

“i’m the captain of the royal guard. i’m in charge of the princess’ safety. because you princes are unfamiliar with the customs here, i’ll give you to the count of three to make yourself sparse before i declare war on your pathetic little kingdoms.”

they blush bright red in anger, looking towards the princess who pays them no mind, looking bored inspecting her nails, clothed only in her underdress.

“one.”

they exchange glances, nodding at each other, silently communicating something.

“two.”

they suddenly lunge forward.

you step in front quickly, blocking their advances, sending a fist into one of their stomachs which earns a groan of pain. you twist, bringing the other one down to the floor, and shove a knee into his chest. the prince who you’ve punched, swings around again, his fist trying to catch your face while you're subduing his friend, but you press down on the man underneath, replacing your knee with your palms, lifting yourself up and using the body underneath you as leverage in a reverse helicopter kick, the first one knocking his fist out of the way, the second kicking his head with enough force to send him into the floor next to the other prince.

you kneel on top of both of them with a gleeful smile, adrenaline pumping through your veins. you grab fistfuls of their hair, yanking them up and speaking sternly into their ears, “if you want to keep your dicks i’d suggest you leave the kingdom now. if i ever see you around the princess, or her maid for that matter, you’ll be losing a lot more than just your egos.”

you shove them back into the floor again, earning groans of pain before you lift yourself off of them.

they scramble up, not bothering to collect their shirts and run out the door.

you slam the door after them, turning on your heel and glaring at the woman on the bed who has started paying attention now, a smirk on her face as she lays down onto her stomach, pushing her cleavage together, resting her cheek on a hand, her legs kicking leisurely in the air.

“you’re not going to greet your princess y/n? that’s awfully rude of you. i could have your head for that.” she turns to the other girl in the room, “you as well sana? i thought you’d at least have manners.”

sana clenches a fist, kneeling down and touching her forehead to the floor, “good evening princess im!”

nayeon grins, “that’s my good girl. you can use my first name now. although you weren’t all good were you? i thought i instructed you to lead y/n away from the ball?”

“get up sana. you don’t have to give her that.”

sana slowly stands up, pouting a little as she stares at her feet.

you walk up to her, tilting her chin up and smiling gently, “sorry for calling you names earlier baby. i should’ve known she put you up to that. you’re too good to say no aren’t you? i don’t blame you for leading me away earlier. can you forgive me?”

sana blushes and nods, you can hear nayeon scoff in the background, rolling onto her back and watching the both of you upside down.

“thank you sweetheart.” you smile, leaning in kindly and capturing her lips.

she sighs against you, almost in relief that you’re finally pressed against each other, kissing back passionately. you're engulfed in the sense of her, the way she gasps between each kiss, the feel of her waist under your fingertips.

nayeon isn't one to be forgotten though. she's been spoilt like that. you can hear her mumbling to herself, the shuffling of sheets and clothes and when you break away from sana, breaths coming in and out heavier than they were a minute ago, you see nayeon's stripped herself and has a hand between her legs, still watching the both of you.

sana follows your gaze and narrows her eyes, calmly walking forward to collect nayeon’s discarded undergarments along with her evening dress, folding everything neatly and setting it into the laundry basket in the corner of the room.

“sana darling, would you take your clothes off as well while you’re there? need something pretty to look at.” nayeon’s shuffled around so she’s laying on her mound of pillows, spreading her legs so both you and sana could see the way she teased herself, dragging a long finger down her cunt slowly, collecting the arousal there and spreading it back up herself, pressing down a little at her clit and then repeating.

your gaze is fixed on the way her hips have started grinding down involuntarily on her fingers, her other hand moving to grasp at a tit and circling a nipple, that smirk still ever present on her face. you glance over at sana who’s staring at nayeon with a slight pout, watching the way her chest is moving up and down as her breaths get heavier with each pass of her fingers.

“yes princess.” sana starts to remove her own clothes obediently.

“i gave you permission to use my name sweetie. what’s wrong?” nayeon asks, but doesn’t stop her ministrations on herself.

sana pouts, refusing to answer, finishing removing all her clothes and undoing her hair, letting the wavy brown locks fall over her shoulders, just barely covering her hardening nipples in the cool air of the room.

“come here.”

you watch them both in silence, tense with anticipation, you can feel the accumulation of your own wetness in your panties at the sight.

sana moves towards nayeon submissively, her head bowed, cheeks pink.

“so pretty. are you going to answer my questions yet sweetie?” you notice nayeon’s fingers move just slightly faster and press down slightly harder with each step sana takes towards her.

sana mumbles something under her breath.

“what was that? come here baby. speak up a bit so we can hear your pretty voice.”

sana climbs onto the bed, sitting on her haunches, her gaze fixed on the princess’ chest, unable to look her in the eyes. “who was that?”

“who was who?”

“those princes. why were they here?”

“hm? they were just here to entertain me.”

“i could’ve done that for you princess.”

“oh.” nayeon smirks, “is that what this is about? are you jealous sweetheart?”

sana blushes even brighter, looking to the side and letting out a sound of indignation.

nayeon sits up then, bringing her hand that wasn’t currently preoccupied to tilt sana’s face back towards her, then letting it drift down to circle her neck, just resting it there.

sana’s breath hitches but she keeps quiet.

nayeon tuts, “so so pretty, but so dumb hm? enough of this act. start answering my questions baby or i’ll have to punish you.”

sana lets out a little squeak when nayeon’s fingers tighten just slightly around her neck before replying,“yes princess.”

“good girl. now why are you giving me an attitude baby? were you jealous i didn’t invite you to my room and asked those other playtoys to instead? whatever their names were.”

sana doesn’t answer until nayeon squeezes a little again, and she scrambles, “yes princess!”

nayeon cocks a head to the side, “you keep referring to me by my title. surely you understand that means i have to do my duty as the princess and act as if i care about all of those men downstairs. especially when my father throws these extravagant balls to try and wed me off every few weeks.”

“i do princess!”

“so there’s no need to be jealous then hm? although you are quite cute when you are darling, just don’t be a brat about it.”

“i-i-“

another squeeze, “speak up.”

“you were going to let them take care of you princess! you had stripped of your royal gowns and they were unclothed as well! don’t tell me you weren’t going to let them eat you out for a little! i could’ve done that for you! as your maid and as your- your-“

“my…” the eldest raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk gracing her features.

sana struggles to find the words, even when nayeon squeezes the fingers around her neck again. you finally decide to step in, your steps making you hyperaware of the soiled excuse for underwear you were currently still wearing.

nayeon looks over at you with a grin, beyond excited you were joining in at last.

“that’s enough nayeon.”

“hm? i haven’t even done anything yet. and i don't think i recall giving you permission to use my name.”

when you reach the bed, the first thing you do is wrap your hands around her wrists, pulling her hand away from sana who inhales greedily, and yanking her other hand away from her centre.

"fucking slut. look at this." you bring her hand that was touching herself to your mouth, taking her fingers in and sucking. you can feel both their attention following your every action. you release her fingers with a pop, "dripping all over yourself like this. is this the doing of those princes? or is it us hm?" you crawl onto the bed, keeping her legs apart even when she fights to squeeze them shut.

"wouldn't you like to know?" her gaze is lidded at the feeling of your tongue wrapped around her fingers, but she still has that fucking attitude.

"sana sweetheart, would you shut her up for us? you deserve a little reward anyway for being such a good girl."

normally sana would seek the final approval from the princess, as her primary loyalties will always go back to serving her majesty. she still loves you both equally but you can understand her obedience and loyalty to the kingdom and to the safety of the princess.

but today, perhaps it is because she's a little peeved that nayeon had requested the presence of those pathetic men instead of her, she doesn't even look towards nayeon, straddling her face despite her protests, and lowering herself quickly, biting back a moan as she starts to ride the princess' face.

you grin at the sight, absolutely adoring sana's pretty face and pretty sounds. everything about her was just so pretty.

"such a good girl for facing me too hm? even without me asking?" you slide forward onto nayeon's stomach, grinding along the smooth plane, but making sure to keep her legs apart and her cunt completely untouched.

"mm- mm- feels- good-"

"that's right. use her like she uses you sweetheart. you deserve it." you ignore the muffled sound of protest from nayeon, leaning forward and kissing sana with ardor, she's panting and gasping softly into your mouth, you let your tongues meet and express all you can't through words.

you can't help the way your hips start moving. suddenly it feels like you're wearing way too many clothes so you break away from sana who pouts a little but brightens easily when she sees you hurriedly taking off all your clothes so you're just as naked as they were.

you're quick to return, latching onto her again and moaning at the feel of your bare pussy against the ridges of nayeon's stomach.

you slide your hands up nayeon's sternum, pausing to grope at her breasts a little before moving up higher to trail your fingers up sana's stomach. her breath hitches when your index and thumbs close around her nipples, you pull lightly and she almost doubles over. you can hear nayeon moan at the gush of wetness that falls out of her, the wet sounds of her lapping it up hungrily, and the squirming of her hips as she tries to find some friction on anything.

you continue circling sana's nipples and pinching softly while you suck her tongue into your mouth, she always had the most sensitive buds, able to cum just from one of you suckling at her breasts.

you drink in the sounds she makes, every whimper, high-pitched moan, every gasp and break in breath, all of it going straight to your own core.

"mmf- f-fuck gonna- gonna-"

"close baby?" she nods desperately against you and you bring a hand down harshly, slapping one of nayeon's tits.

nayeon yelps but is drowned out quickly as sana continues to grind her pussy down into the princess' mouth.

"make her cum slut. show your appreciation for sana always doing everything for you. you could not survive one day without her. spoilt brat."

you can tell the moment nayeon gets pissed off at your comments, her hands grip tighter around sana's thighs, pulling her down impossibly closer and working at her with a renewed vigor.

sana's got her hands in the sheets, knuckles white as she rides nayeon's tongue, her tits bounce alluringly and you can't help but move down, taking a nipple into your mouth and sucking gently.

"that's right baby, cum for us. you can do it." you mumble around her, bringing another hand up to fondle the tit that isn't in your mouth.

she's shaking and whining and then all of a sudden she's cumming, eyes closing, mouth open, letting the wave of pleasure wash over her as you and nayeon continue to help her ride it out.

when she's nearing the end you move up towards her lips again, kissing her and whispering gentle encouragements, then helping her move off nayeon and laying her down. nayeon takes the opportunity to drape an arm over sana's stomach, kissing her shoulder and rubbing circles into her side.

you both cuddle her and coo at how well she did. aftercare was always extremely important for sana. but when you notice one of nayeon's hands snaking down between her own legs again you peck sana's lips once more before you climb over her, ripping nayeon's hand away and pinning both her hands above her head.

she whines, pouting.

"don't gimme that face. you still made sana lie for you so you could go off and have your own fun. don't you know you're not getting to cum tonight?"

"but i was good! i made her cum!"

you scoff, "that's the bare minimum. you should make sana feel that good at least once a week for the shit you put her up to."

sana's still hazy but she peeks an eye open, turning so she's on her side and watching the both of you, "it's okay y/n i like doing things for her. for both of you."

"see!" nayeon tries pushing her hands against yours but you hold her still, grip iron tight around her wrists.

"shh sana sweetheart you just rest there and watch okay? you're too nice to her if you spoil her this much she'll end up letting some other random prince fuck her and you don't want that do you?"

sana's jaw clenches at the reminder.

nayeon starts protesting, "i would not! i told you guys they were just here for a little fun! i wasn't actually going to let them touch me! i have to play around with a few of them so that my father thinks i'm actually trying!"

"then why were you stripped down to your undergarments?"

"it was uncomfortable walking around in that big flashy ball gown! and we were playing a strip game. i was winning by the way they only had their boxers left to go."

you scoff, leaning down until your lips are an inch apart, speaking lowly into her, "you're fucking delusional if you think anyone aside from us gets to see this." you keep one of your hands securing her arms above her head, the other coming down to grope roughly at her breast.

she bucks up into your touch, moaning, "t-told you i was w-winning anyway. they wouldn't have seen anything."

you sneer, kissing the side of her lip and move along her jawline, "you still put yourself at risk princess. and my job is to make sure you don't do that. so you're going to learn your lesson now alright?"

you don't wait for her to respond before you're flipping her over onto her stomach. you slide one of her pillows under her stomach so her ass is up, and land a sharp hit to her cheeks.

"how many do you think we should do today sana?"

nayeon's turning her head to sana, a pleading look on her face, "sana baby i've been good right? i've been-"

you send another slap down and nayeon's squeaking out, hands clutching onto the pillow above her head. "don't talk to her. sana answer the question sweetheart."

sana's looking at nayeon with uncertainty, a pout forming on her lips as nayeon begs her with her eyes. "i think 10 should be fine."

"alright 10 for being a bitch to you and 20 for risking my job and putting herself in danger. you're going to count out 30 now understand princess? and those first two don't count those were just for you mouthing off."

you land one slap onto her cheeks, wait for her to call out the number one, and then repeat.

at around 18 sana takes pity on her and slides towards her, kissing her cheeks and whispering encouragement, wiping away at her stray tears.

"look how sweet our sana is. and you still treat her the way you do. learn your lesson yet princess?" you strike again.

"nineteen! y-yes i've learnt my lesson i swear i'll be good please please-"

another slap. her ass has turned red with the amount of hits its endured.

"twenty!"

"i see you've learnt some better manners already. we'll need to finish the lesson though i think, so that it can reach its maximum potential."

you're not fooled with the next 5 hits. you know she's positively dripping onto the sheets under her with each slap. even when she starts crying and babbling nonsense and sana kisses her to try and distract her from the pain, she's so wet you can see the beginnings of it start to run down her thighs.

"twenty six!"

"hmm i think we can switch up the last three what do you say sweetheart?" you direct your question to sana who breaks away from nayeon, shrugging and returning her lips to the princess' neck.

you smirk, spreading her legs slowly, beaming at the reveal of drenched lips. you tease a finger up the inside of her thigh, nayeon's squirming under you. you can't help when your finger dips into her wetness, running down her lips to her clit. nayeon cries out a loud moan, her hips bucking downwards trying to chase your hand.

you tut, removing your hand but bringing it back down quickly with a sharp slap. you revel in the cry she lets out, a gush of wetness seeping out of her, her lips almost throbbing.

“count slut.”

“t-twenty seven!”

you hum, tracing her inner thighs again, bending down and kissing the back of her thigh gently, then when she’s calmed down and least expecting it, you land another sharp slap to her pussy.

“mmf! t-twenty eight!” her voice is muffled because she’s buried her head into a pillow, sana’s tracing comforting patterns onto her back, though the way her fingers trail lightly to the side of her breast every now and then, you can tell she’s enjoying teasing nayeon just as much as you are.

another slap.

“twenty nine!”

“last one princess.”

you bend down, blowing softly into her open lips, she quivers at the feeling, moaning into the pillow she’s grasping onto for dear life.

the final, wet slap echoes through the chamber. and before she can wriggle away you grab her hips, pulling her down and finally, finally get to taste that essence that’s flowing out of her.

the switch from pain directly into pure pleasure has her thrashing, but you keep her hips still, licking up her entrance and suckling on her clit, coming back down and pushing your tongue into her, moaning at the taste and the feeling of her dripping all over you. you can feel her wetness on your nose, your chin, it’s messy and you love it. you lap at her, cleaning her up while she twists and fidgets under you. you pull away eventually, wiping at your mouth with gleeful satisfaction, taking in her red asscheeks and thoroughly licked cunt.

you look up and notice sana’s slid a hand between her thighs again, they’re kissing roughly, moaning into each other and you feel a rod of arousal go straight down your body at the sight. nayeon’s grinding down into the sheets, desperate for any sort of friction, you take the opportunity when the two of them have to break away for air to flip her onto her side, sliding behind her and pressing her against sana so she’s sandwiched between the two of you.

you caress her ass softly and she whines at the little stings of pain, but finds purchase in sana’s thigh, able to finally rub her cunt against something else.

you kiss her shoulder, and she turns her head while still humping sana's thigh. you smile, bringing her into a kiss while your hands slide over her stomach.

when you break away she's still panting, you're careful not to aggravate her ass too much but slip a hand down to her folds, teasing her clit a little and she moans, loud and eager.

"f-fuck- i- 'm sorry- i- please- can i- i want to-"

you hum, kissing along her neck, "what do you think sana? think the princess deserves to cum?"

sana's biting her lip watching the two of you, the feel of nayeon's pussy against her thigh driving her positively insane. nayeon turns to sana again, pleading, her hand taking hold of sana's ass and squeezing just to cling onto something while she rides her thigh.

sana lets out a shaky breath at the feeling, "yeah. give her one."

you smirk against nayeon's shoulder, pressing down harder on her clit and pushing it around in rhythmic circles. sana tenses her thigh so that nayeon can grind against it easier, moving down slightly so she can capture a nipple with her mouth, nipping lightly as nayeon gasps, now losing hold of sana's ass but bringing her hand up to her hair, pushing her closer into her chest.

sana's still got a hand between her own legs, 2 fingers pushing in and out of herself with a tinkling whine, but fixated on sucking nayeon's nipple.

"go ahead, cum for us princess."

nayeon cums with a cry, her hips rutting against sana's thigh uncontrollably, shaking as she orgasms, her hand on sana's head pulling at her hair just enough for sana to come with a whine as well.

the both of them are breathing heavily as they come down, nayeon's pulling gently on sana's hair indicating for her to come up, and sana obeys. meeting her in a lazy kiss, you continue to pepper soft pecks all over nayeon's shoulder, moving your hand that was between her thighs to caress sana's back in comfort.

sana breaks away first, climbing over nayeon who's still recovering and finding your lips immediately, moaning at the taste of nayeon still on your tongue.

before you know it, she's kissing your neck, hand wandering your body, moving down to your chest to leave light sucks and pecks, and then she's between your legs, looking up at you with an innocent smile, and then diving in.

you moan instantly, spreading your legs for her as she takes them and puts them over her shoulders.

"o-oh sana baby-that's oh- oh fuck- that's good- you don't have to-"

"want to. want to make you feel good too." she's mumbling into your cunt, speaking quickly and then wrapping her lips around your clit, as if she couldn't stand being away from your lips for more than a second.

you're jerking your hips up into her when nayeon turns around with a soft groan, taking in the situation with lidded eyes.

she's still sore but she inches forward to kiss you, muffling your moans when sana tongues your clit and works masterfully at your pussy.

"good isn't she?" nayeon murmurs against your lips.

your breath catches when sana's devil tongue penetrates you, the wet hot muscle making you feel all sorts of tingles up your spine.

nayeon speaks a little louder now so sana can hear as well, "'s why those idiots could never live up to her. no one else eats pussy like sana does. isn't that right baby? you were made to make us feel good weren't you?"

you gasp at the slurp that sana lets out, you know she gets off on the praise, especially if its coming from nayeon.

"f-fuck sana so- good mmf- right there- oh you're gonna make me cum darling-"

nayeon trails a langorous hand up your stomach, cupping a breast and squeezing. when her fingers close around a nipple you can't help it when you cum, moaning into nayeon's mouth and gripping sana's hair, keeping her there while she drinks in your release.

when she finally lets you go, crawling back up and collapsing on top of you with a grin, her mouth still covered in your slick, nayeon leans in and kisses her, their tongues dancing in front of you while they share the taste of you.

they break apart and sana giggles at the strand of saliva connecting them while nayeon cringes in disgust, wiping at her mouth.

sana pokes her playfully, "you love it."

"as if. i just love you."

sana rolls her eyes, getting off the both of you to grab the cream you use for aftercare.

she comes back, requesting nayeon to flip onto her stomach. nayeon refuses to at first, clinging onto your arm with her eyes closed, but you shake her off, looking at her with a glare and she cowers, flipping over with a mumble about how she was meant to be the one in power here.

you share a giggle with sana when nayeon hisses at the first rub of cream. but sana's soft, gentle and soothing, and eventually nayeon's relaxed into the sheets, humming in satisfaction, drifting off into sleep.

sana's meticulous, grabbing some wet towels to wipe her down, she offers to do you as well but you refuse, "it's okay sana. you should rest as well. you don't have to do everything you know."

she shrugs, going to put the used towel in the laundry basket, "i love you both. plus it's my job to do all this for nayeon. i'd still be in the slums if she didn't take me in."

you frown, waiting for sana to finish and blow out the candle lights before making grabby hands at her to come cuddle with you both.

she laughs, pushing your hands away playfully and curling up on the other side of nayeon, pulling a blanket over you all.

you reach around nayeon to hold her hand, she leans up and gives you a kiss.

"are you still mad about the engagement?"

she hums, "nothing i can do about it though. nayeon's the princess. we all knew she was going to be married off eventually."

nayeon stirs then after hearing her name, "w-what? what about me?"

sana laughs, "go back to sleep princess. of course you'd wake up hearing your own name. no one loves you more than yourself."

nayeon whines, “you both do.”

“shows exactly how much we love you then.”

she’s pouting and turning to look up at sana with wide eyes. "you're worried about me leaving aren't you?"

the atmosphere is suddenly serious.

sana's running a hand through nayeon's hair, her grip on your hand tightens a little.

"you know i'd never let them touch you sana. even if i get wed off i'm not going anywhere without you. you're stuck with me."

sana sighs, her hands still brushing through the princess' hair, "it might not be that simple."

"it will be. and if it isn't, y/n has a backup plan don't you?" she's turning to you now with a knowing smirk.

you're caught by surprise, "how did you know about that?"

"please you're not subtle. and because everyone doesn't think much of me i can actually overhear a lot of the conversations around the castle. i heard some of your knights talking about preparations and underground tunnels and other stuff and pieced it all together."

"what's she talking about y/n?"

you groan a little, nuzzling your head into nayeon's neck, "i wasn't going to tell you until everything was ready. but at the last planned ball there's going to be a ceremony celebrating nayeon's official engagement to whichever prince she chooses. because of all the chaos that'll happen with the chosen prince when they have to transport their entire royal family over and worry about security and all that, we can take advantage of the miscommunications and leave in the tunnels under the castle. i've already got contacts with some bandits that i came into contact with a few years ago that are willing to take us across the desert with the right price. they all live together in a seperate civilisation on an island that's hidden from outsiders so the king and any of the allied forces won't be able to find us. i've spoken with the council on the island already and they're more than happy to take us in."

"you're not suspicious about these people at all? they could just be after the princess and claim the glory and money for when the king sends out a missing persons notice."

you shake your head, "no. i trust my contacts. i... back during the first war, i sent my family away with them. i told you both that they died in the war but they're still alive and safe right now. i can send messages to them once a month and i have proof of life as well. it's up to you both though. this is just a precautionary plan in case anything goes wrong, or if you want to run away from it all nayeon." you run a hand down her cheek, caressing her softly.

nayeon hums, smiling gently, "i was just waiting for you to tell us you idiot. of course i want to go. this place is a hellhole and we all know it. i can't do anything even though i'm the princess and the people in the kingdom have it much worse. i want to come back eventually and make things better, but i can't do that if my father gets rid of me to be some man-child’s trophy wife for the rest of my life. sana? what do you think?"

sana's more cautious, studying the both of you before responding, "i've pledged my life to you already nayeon. i'll go where ever you go. but you promise to protect her right?" she's looking at you, gaze steely.

you smile, "i've pledged my life to the princess as well. and to you sana. i won't let anything happen to either of you."

sana relaxes at that, leaning in over nayeon's shoulder to kiss you gently.

"it's settled then. we're getting the fuck outta here."

you laugh, "sleep first. then we can talk about world domination."

nayeon yawns and sana follows cutely. "you're right. i love you both. goodnight."

you grin, pecking them both on the cheek and settling in, cuddling into nayeon, still holding onto sana's hand. you were going to make it out of here, all three of you.

[gabgabwrites]

LESSON LEARNT | Professor!Patrick Zweig

summary ⇝ your insufferable colleague has no sense of time and you’re tired of that, though if there’s one thing Patrick doesn’t like, is a smart mouth, one you so happen to have.

warnings ⇝ allusions of art x reader, language, mentions of cheating, smoking, blasphemy(if you squint) smut! p in v, unprotected sex, choking, oral (M), fingering, cum-eating, collar(?), rough sex, slapping, spanking, spit play, barely aftercare, DEGRADATION TO ITS FINEST, praise, Patrick yaps and yaps about reader being a whore/slut…yolo, mdni

an: I had to touch some grass and myself during this &&& I have another 2 planned challengers fics coming out… one day

based off this request here!

you can read part 2…over here

You're an English professor at Stanford university, you're loved by many students and got along with most of your colleagues.

There was just one problem, majority your students almost always kept arriving late to your lectures because of the Biology professor, Professor Zweig who kept keeping his students overtime.

He irked you, he was cocky and arrogant and always boasted to you when a student got a higher mark in his class instead of yours, even if you taught English.

Even now, you had a few late stragglers enter your class, as you were busy reading to your class; 'I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream'. You had enough, you shut the book and excused yourself, telling your students to continue reading along and write down notes. You marched straight for the dark, thick double doors that led to the biology labs.

Lo and behold, stood Professor Patrick Zweig, packing away his microscope and other various equipment he used for his classes today, until he heard the banging of the double doors. As he turned over, he couldn't help but roll his eyes as he saw you standing at the entrance, a scowl on your face that he had to admit was rather cute.

"Oh no... my worst nightmare." He said sarcastically as he leaned against the table.

Zweig couldn't help but scoff, he watched as you walked over and he almost smirked at how much you were fuming in front of him. "We've had this talk before, let your students out on time."

He leaned against the counter, his arms resting on his hip, "Oh, please, you're being so dramatic, they're a few minutes late to a lesson, you're acting like it's my fault you started too early."

"I start on time, thank you, and I am certainly not being dramatic. Language is far more important than looking at dead insects."

Zweig raised his eyebrow, he had no trouble arguing with you, and with a grin, he pushed himself off the table and leaned forwards a bit, "Oh? Language is more important than biology? Don't make me laugh, the study of biology is much more useful and important than studying Shakespeare and dead poets."

"It's not about poetry," You groaned. "It's a goddamn language that everyone seated in my class speaks at home, unfortunately that is more useful than fucking insects."

Patrick couldn't help but laugh, his grin only widening, he was enjoying this far too much. He crossed his arms, his stance becoming wider, “Please, English is hardly a language, it's mostly made up of stolen words from Latin and Germanic languages. Besides, what is so important about knowing the language when science is what the world functions through?"

You let out a small hum. "What if your students are religious, huh? What if they believe God created all creatures and critters?"

He rolled his eyes, "That's your counter argument? You want to go and talk about religion? Really? If God truly created all these things, then how come we have so much evidence and scientific facts disproving that? It's science over fiction, sweetie."

You scoffed, and muttered under your breath, "Blasphemy." With a frown, you turned around and went back to your lecture hall and picked up the book.

Patrick couldn't help but snicker as he watched your dramatic exit, oh he had to admit he was absolutely enjoying this new routine of riling you up with every encounter. He almost wanted to skip teaching tomorrow just to watch you fume even more.

"Alright, we'll pick up from page 146," You said, flipping to the page. "‘Cornfeld grasped the head of the hammer, and...’" The rest of the class went on with no more interruptions from tardy students, but in a small part of your mind, it still lingered to what Zweig had said.

Sure, you thought he was a cocky and arrogant bastard, but he also annoyed you so much. It was like he almost did it on purpose to rile you up.

The next day, your class was thankfully one of the last, but before Patrick's, and you knew some students had no luck and had to endure Biology back to back with yours. You smiled, today you planned to keep your students— the ones who had Biology next, in a few minutes later.

You weren't sure if he'd do something in retaliation for what you were about to do, but you really didn't care, the look on his face would no doubt be hilarious, especially when some of his students complained about being late for his lesson.

You had to make up some dumb reason, you pretended that those exact students had flunked the short item they wrote about two weeks ago, and had to discuss their mistakes. You knew it was a lame excuse, but it was the first thing that came to mind.

You could just imagine Zweig getting all huffy and impatient with the students as they were stuck in your class having to review their mistake.

The clocked ticked, minutes and minutes well passed the end of class.

You knew for a fact that those students were now late for the biology class, you tried to hide the grin growing on your face as you thought about how Zweig would take the tardiness, he was going to be absolutely fuming.

You sighed, pointing your neat and professional manicured finger at a big, red circle you made on a page. "See, here you got the facts wrong. Launcelot was a clown not a jester."

You heard some of the students groan and complain in the queue, some even looked at their watches and began to realise that they were now late for class. One of them, a male student, raised his hand slowly and peered at you over the shoulders of his classmates.

"Professor... Are you sure you need to go over every mistake?"

You raised a brow. "This topic will come up in your year end paper, so I expect you to get it right that time, and how else will you if you don't get it now?"

The male student groaned once more, he and the others all looked at their watches and then to each other. Another student, a female one, chimed in, "But we're going to be late for Biology."

You chose not to say anything, simply giving her a smile before turning back to the student you were attending to. "Right, where were we?"

They all looked at each other and gave out a collective sigh, but they had no choice but to listen to you review each and every one of their errors and mistakes. Every student glanced at the clock as the time slowly went on and on, they had to bite their tongues and try to pay attention as best as they could.

You could get a warning, or worse, but considering the Dean never took in your complaints, you didn't worry.

As the minutes passed, you were surprised at the amount of mistakes that students had done before in the past. You were about to look at another student's mistake, when you heard the loud sound of the double doors opening behind you.

You looked back over your shoulder and was stunned to see Zweig himself standing in the entrance with an intimidating glare on his face.

You bit your lip, turning in your chair to face away from him and back to your student.

The students all stood back and sunk into their places as they saw Patrick, he let out a huff and walked over to your desk. He stood for a moment in silence before speaking,

"Professor, may I speak with you for a moment?"

You looked over your shoulder, batting your lashes before giving him a sweet smile. "Can you give me ten minutes?"

Zweig raised an eyebrow at your response, he folded his arms and looked over to the students, who had all gone silent as he stared each one of them down. He let out a huff before grabbing your chair and pulling it away from the desk, "Actually, no. I need to talk to you now."

"I'm so sorry, Professor, l'm just a little busy."

You could see the slight twitch of irritation on Patrick's face, he leaned his hand against your desk and gave you a smirk, "Are you trying to play smartass with me?"

"I don't know what you mean. I'm just helping my students get a distinction for their grade." You told him

Zweig let out a scoff, "Cut the crap, I know exactly what you're doing, and you damn well know that you're purposely keeping these students in here to make them late for their next class."

"I'm not."

His jaw visibly clenched, he stepped even closer, leaning down even more so that you were almost face to face at this point, "Then explain to me how your class has ended twenty minutes ago and these students are still stuck in here and now late for my class?"

"I guess I lost track of time, whoops?"

Patrick's nostrils flared as he exhaled from his nose, he was beginning to lose his patience at your petty attitude.

"Right, because losing track of time is totally a good explanation to keep your students twenty minutes over the end of your class..."

Patrick's eyes trailed over to the students, who were all watching in anticipation as the two of you argued, some even looking amused at the scene playing out in front of them.

He sighed and looked back to you, "Why can't you just cut the crap and admit you did it on purpose to annoy me? I know you did."

"And if I did? Am? Then what?"

Patrick couldn't help but be caught a bit off guard by your response, he let out a half scoff and a half amused huff as he smirked down at you, "You're actually admitting to it? Really?"

"'m tired of you doing the same, Zweig."

Patrick rolled his eyes and groaned, he stepped back a bit and ran his hand through his hair, "You're acting like a damn spoiled child, it's not my fault my lectures sometimes go overtime because people in my class are actually interested to learn more."

"It's not about their interest," You snapped. "It's about their needs."

Patrick let out a scoff and rolled his eyes,

"Right, right, because they need to be in your class to sit around and hear you recite your favourite Shakespearean garbage?"

"It's not—," You caught yourself raising your voice, before taking in a deep breath. "You can either wait for me to finish, or move on."

Patrick let out a sharp exhale, he stood silently for a moment, his eyes were trained on you, studying your face as he debated his options. He stepped back over and leaned against the desk, "Fine, I'll wait, but you damn well better finish up before I get impatient."

You gave him a snarky smile, before focusing on the next student. "Okay, let's have a look..."

Patrick stood off to the side and crossed his arms, he was almost impressed with how adamant you were being in keeping him waiting and keeping him irritated.

He almost had to admit that watching you argue with him was oddly attractive, but he would never say it aloud.

"No, no, see they weren't talking about Christians here, they were talking about Hebrews." You groaned, as your pen jabbed the paper.

Zweig watched with slight amusement as you kept the students in your class even longer to correct their work and mistakes. He was starting to grow impatient and irritable by each second that passed. He let out a huff and looked to the clock again and then to you, "Are you ever going to finish?"

"If you let me." You snarled, shooting him a look over your shoulder.

Patrick rolled his eyes, he was beginning to find the whole situation less irritating and more entertaining, he held his hands up in surrender with a sarcastic grin, "By all means, take your time and continue, I have nothing but patience, after all."

"I'm glad." You snickered.

Patrick crossed his arms and let out a huff, he was definitely growing more impatient, he checked his watch before looking to the students that were all staring at the two of you with anticipation and curiosity.

"How much longer until you're done?" He asked, his voice having an underlying irritation in it as he looked back over to you.

"I don't know? Fifteen minutes? How about you go have a seat at one of the desks while you wait?" You asked him.

Patrick rolled his eyes, he could practically hear the sass dripping from your voice as you spoke to him. Nevertheless, he played along and walked over to one of the desks in the furthest row and slumped down into the seat.

A few of the students snickered and giggled as he shot them warning glares before fixing his eyes back to you.

Content enough, you went back to reviewing the mistakes of your peers.

Zweig sat in the seat, legs apart, arms crossed, and looking more than a bit irritated and bored as he sat in the desk.

He let out a frustrated groan and looked at the time again, twenty minutes had now passed and you were still keeping the students in class. He couldn't help but glance at you again, a part of him had to admit that you were very attractive, even when you were being a sassy smartass.

The bell rung a short beat. "Alright, I think you guys are all good for your paper. You may leave." You told the few students.

And Patrick Zweig smirked, his tongue pushing against his cheek to ease his annoyance.

The students quickly went back to their seats and gathered their belongings before rushing out, they were all eager to get out of the classroom and get to their next lesson. A couple of the girls giggled as they glanced over to Zweig on the way out, seeing him slumped in the desk and giving him knowing smirks.

"You really couldn't just let the students go early, huh?" Patrick asked in a mocking tone, he sat up straighter in the chair and stretched his legs, "You're a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

You looked up from your desk, Patrick physically was above you, from how the desks were on giant steps, even though you two were on complete opposite ends of the classroom. "It's what I have to deal with almost every other day."

Patrick let out an amused scoff as he rolled his eyes. "Oh please, don't go act like you're so pitiful and that I'm such a big bother to you. It's not like anyone else is going to complain about it and the students love my lessons."

"I have no doubt." You mumbled, pushing yourself off your seat, straightening the stack of papers on your desk.

Patrick noticed this, and it gave him an idea. He slowly stood up from the desk and took a large strides down the steps, towards you.

He watched as you finished straightening the stack before smirking and knocking them from your loose grip once he reached your desk.

"What the fuck?" You scoffed, stepping out from behind the desk to pick up the papers. To prevent your pencil skirt from rising, you unhappily kneeled down, knees digging into the tiles as you picked up the papers.

Patrick couldn't help but smirk. As you went to pick up one of the last papers, Patrick's boot came into frame, stepping on the paper. Your eyes flickered up in annoyance.

"You've been a real smartass today."

"Do you mind?" You asked bitterly, tugging on the paper lightly, enough for it to not tear.

He chuckled and continued to dig his foot down on the paper, he was now clearly teasing and taunting you.

"I don't mind at all... I think it's quite a good view, actually." He answered, still smirking down at you.

He bent down onto his haunches so that he was somewhat eye level with you. His eyes didn't miss the way yours unconsciously flickered to his crotch, even if it was for half a second.

He watched as a crease formed between your brows and your painted lips fell open to complain.

He continued to smirk as your expression contorted into a look of irritation, but he quickly cut you off once your mouth opened to respond, "Oh no, don't try to make a smart comment now... after all, you're in quite a position, aren't you?"

His thick fingers found loose hair hanging down by your ear, before he tucked it behind the shell of it.

"You know, you're quite pretty when you aren't being a total bitch." He said softly.

You hated how his touch on your skin sent a shiver down your spine, you didn't know whether you wanted to slap him or kiss him, and that only made you angrier.

"And you're even hotter when you aren't being an arrogant bastard." A snarky response escaped from your lips.

His pearly whites peaked from between his lips. "You find me hot? Fucking knew it."

Damn him, you really shouldn't have let that slip. You could feel a slight burn on your cheeks as you realised what you had just said.

"Shut up, I do not." You lied through gritted teeth, you tried desperately not to let your eyes wander to his lips.

"Yeah?"Patrick's gaze was locked onto you, he was very amused by the way your cheeks were blushing, his fingers continued to play with the loose strands of hair behind your ear, his touch was gentle and soft but his voice was mocking and sarcastic. "That's not what your body is saying."

And then, his hand curled around the mass of your hair and yanked, your scalp crying in pain and a strangled sound rumbled from between your lips.

"I bet if I kissed you, you'd kiss back, huh?" You gasped as a rush of pain and a rush of pleasure soarer through you, you let out a strangled moan, hating how it only proved him right.

"In your dreams." You growled through gritted teeth, not denying that you wanted his lips against yours.

"Oh baby, in my dreams we're doing a lot more than kissing."

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, your mind running wild at the thoughts and images that invaded your mind.

"You're a pig," You said breathlessly, you tried to keep your voice firm and stable but you could feel your resolve breaking. "A fucking pervert."

"Damn straight," He grinned, his face leaning close enough for you to count every freckle and mole on his face. "God would send me to hell if he knew what I think of doing to you."

His breath was hot against your face, you could feel it as he leaned in close, you cursed yourself as you realised you were practically melting towards his touch.

"Well, I guess I'll see you there then." You breathlessly responded, a hint of a smirk beginning to form on your lips.

"Oh? You fucking minx." He purred.

You could feel yourself growing weak at the way he said that, his voice so low and deep, you were almost losing the ability to respond to him.

"What can I say? I've never been a saint," You mumbled, your lips only just millimeters away from his.

He brought his other thumb to your lips, giving you no time as he pushed it past them. "Such a pretty mouth, baby." His thumb traced along your teeth and tongue, making your lips look poutier than normal.

He chuckled as he watched your expression change from irritation to want.

Patrick smirked and leaned his head down so that his lips were next to your ear, his voice low and almost raspy as he spoke, "Do you know what I want to do to it, doll?"

Your lips wrapped around his thick digit in response.

His smirk widened at the feel of your lips wrapped around his thumb, a surge of desire ran through his veins.

"I have so many things I want to do to that mouth, baby. I want to make it do things you've only read about in your little romance books. I want to see those pretty lips all pink and swollen, I want to make them cry my name," His voice was hoarse and ragged and his breath was coming thick and heavy as he spoke. "Fuck..." He groaned, just at the thought of these things. "I pretend my fist is you, y'know. Your lips, your hand, your sweet pussy."

He whined. Like, actually whined. His eyes swept to you.

"Just once, I ask. Let me fuck your throat?" He asked, pulling his thumb from your lips.

You were weak like brittle bone, and crumbled and caved.

You gave him a nod, and it was like a switch flipped. He stood up to his full height and fumbled with his belt, his movements were sloppy, abrupt and jarred, he was almost angry.

Patrick hated how much he hated how much you got under his skin and infuriated him every single damn day, he hated how you were always the first thing on his mind.

But above all, Patrick hated how much he really, really wanted you.

His belt slid from the belt loops, allowing for his pants to sag. He kicked them off with ease, presenting you with the massive tent in his underwear. "You're gonna swallow every inch, like a good slut." He sneered, he grabbed his belt and swung it around your neck, making quick movements as he made a makeshift collar, one that dug into your neck.

"Yeah?" You choked out, your defiant attitude coming back as you continued to look up at him, your gaze trailing down from his face to his chest, down further until it landed on the tent in his underwear.

You swallowed as you felt him tug on the belt around your neck, you could feel the cold leather against your skin, the material digging into your throat as he held the other end of the belt and pulled you towards him.

"Yeah." His lips pursed, before a glob is his saliva landed square on your cheek.

He gave you little room for thought before one of his hands harshly smacked against your skin, before he smeared around his spit.

Half your face was glazed with his saliva as he pushed two of his fingers in your mouth, momentarily.

"Open up." You instinctively opened your mouth, looking up at him with a mixture of hate and a twisted but undeniable desire. You looked utterly shameful and pathetic as you sat on your knees while Zweig stood above you, his fingers in your mouth and the leather of the belt around your throat.

You despised the way you were behaving, but at the same time, it somehow only made the heat between your legs grow

You were in a state of mind that confused you. You hated Zweig with all your might, but in that moment, you wanted him with an intensity you hadn't felt before.

He slipped his fingers away from your lips, using that hand to yank his boxers down while the other remained with a firm grasp around his belt around your neck.

You couldn't help but allow your gaze to slide down his body, your eyes taking in every inch of him as he slowly revealed himself to you.

You had to admit that he was large and thick and it only served to make your heart thump louder in your throat, making you all the more aware of the belt around your neck and Zweig's hand holding the end of it. You felt pathetic and helpless, even more so as you looked up at him through widened eyes, waiting for what he was going to do next.

He used his wet hand to pump his dick, getting it somewhat lubed up before aligning it with your mouth. Patrick gave little care to your natural reflexes and shoved his whole length past your lips, groaning at the warm, wet feeling enveloping his cock.

"Yeah, Professor... you can write all the essays you want, but you still can't hide the fact that you're nothing but a dirty, filthy slut. You're only good for one thing, don't lie." He smirked, watching as your eyes began to well over with tears.

It made him feel smugly confident seeing that he made you cry, knowing that you were the one beneath him. Not just literally either.

You make some sort of strangled sound as you choke around him, feeling spit drool at the corners of your mouth.

"Look at you," He muttered. "All messy and disgusting. Pathetic. And to think you teach at one of the top schools in the country."

His eyes raked over his saliva that still coated your cheek, at your makeup that began to drip down your lashes, as your eyes that began to flutter while you tried your best to take him.

Patrick swore you were a fucking angel that dropped down the very heavens he cursed at as he felt his lower belly stir.

He groaned deeply, his eyes rolling back a little. "What would your students think, seeing you like this, huh? Seeing their 'great' professor, looking so debauched and filthy in her own lecture hall, with her pretty, little mouth stretched around her 'coworkers' cock. I bet your students would all be very disappointed. You think they all look up to you, but they'd be so disgusted if they found out you were just a dirty, little, cock-sucking, lying, whore who'd do anything for a few extra pennies. I bet they'd all be so shocked that the professor of English likes being on her knees just as much any other dumb little girl... and just for a pathetic little biology teacher, of all people."

His hands pulled at the belt end, that's wrapped around your neck, forcing the walls of your throat to strain against his aching cock.

"And you," He added as he gave another firm pull. "You like it too, huh? You're loving this. You're only a pretty, little plaything, and it only took me a few minutes to make you understand that. At least I know what you use that good-for-nothing mouth of yours for when you're not spewing useless knowledge to a bunch of idiots all day."

You didn't know of the tears that ran down your cheeks was from his cock’s head constantly bumping the back of your throat or from his degrading words.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted to do this... ever since we first met. You're not my type though, not really. Far too annoying. But then again, you're useful for this one, specific thing. At least I can appreciate that."

He groaned deeply and let go of the leash, letting you take over what you could.

"Show me what else that tongue can do, Professor..."

Your lips were swollen and your throat cried out in pain. You allowed for his member to slip from your lips, letting your hand wrap around it while your lips moved down, over to his heavy set of balls.

He looked down to watch, his breathing ragged and uneven. "Yeah... just like that. God, just like that. You really were made for this, huh?"

His large hand found the crown of your head, fingers tangling between the strands as he pushed your face deeper into his balls.

He was basically riding your face, while you still pumped his cock.

"That's perfect," he groaned. "Absolutely perfect, I should put you in your place more often, Professor. You're doing a fine job for me. I hope you don't mind if I do this a little more often now, I've always wanted to shut that pretty-face of yours... and, I think l've found a good way to do exactly that."

You mumbled something, though it was incoherent and muffled.

He chuckled breathlessly. "I couldn't quite hear that, Professor. What did you say?"

In complaint, you sucked hard, sucking his balls deeper into your mouth, while your hand squeezed hard around his shaft.

"Fuck," He groaned. "Won't drop the attitude even with my fucking balls in your mouth?"

He shuddered a moment, watching as you continued to suck and work him.

"Yeah, I've definitely been thinking up the right punishment for you when you go around acting like a smartass... all it took was a few minutes to shut you right up."

Your free hand snaked down your torso, where it inched up the tight pull of your skirt, and found haven between your pantyhose. Your fingers reached your achy and throbbing clit.

"You really are that desperate, huh? You can't wait for me to finish, you have to do it yourself? I guess it's just part of your personality, you're a little, impatient brat, always needing to have things done your own way, with no consideration for anyone else."

Your tongue was scratchy as it lapped over his course hairs, you felt his balls grow heavy in your mouth, signalling he was close to release.

"Almost... I'm almost there... just a bit more." He panted

He couldn't look away from the sight of you, on your knees and working him with your mouth while you touched yourself.

"Can't wait to see you walking around the campus with my cum all over your face... so they all know just what you really are: a worthless, little whore desperate for anything I do to you. I should put you through this more, Professor... it suits you... much better than being a teacher, don't you think? You look so good on your knees, where you belong... like a dirty, little cock sucker."

His hips thrust up into your hand a few times, before he was spilling his cum all over your face, and even past your hairline and in your hair.

He groaned deeply, his head thrown back and eyes squeezing shut. "God. That's it... that's good, take it all, let me paint your face with my cum. Fuck!" He gritted out as he rode out his release.

With heavy pants, his soft cock slipped from your grip as his balls from your swollen lips.

He groaned at the sight. He couldn't stop himself, even if he tried, from his palm from making contact with your face and spreading his semen around, adding to the previous layer of tacky saliva.

"Just look at that," He muttered."Beautiful. So much better than that stupid, stuck-up attitude of yours. Bet you'll think twice before trying to act tough with me again."

You swallowed, throat raw, before getting up on shaky feet.

You took in a breath, before your hand whipped out and hit his cheek.

"God I needed that," You groaned out, before shifting and limping over to your desk where you managed to clamber on. "Let's see if you can fuck well."

He was honestly a little shocked by your response, not that he let you see that. He merely smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. "You're going to regret that, Professor."

He took one long stride forward before he was between your legs. His hands shot out before he grabbed your nylon tights and ripped them, creating a gaping hole that expose your lacy thongs.

"Look what we have here," He chuckled as he gazed at the destroyed stockings. He looked at your soiled pair of underwear, blotched with your arousal. "Who knew the English Professor had such lewd panties,” He laughed, his thumbs hooking in the fabric of your waistband. "Should I send the biology department a little gift, Professor? Show them just what you look like beneath your clothes?"

You grunted, hating how you had a flicker of pain go through your chest. "Would I be able to find another Professor's cock to suck?"

A scoff left his lips. "I don't think any other faculty member could handle you as I could. I've seen the way the rest of them look at you."

"Oh, and how's that?"

He gave you a wolfish grin and leaned forward a little, putting his hands on your hips. "Like they just want to devour you, every last inch of you. You're one of the youngest professors in the school... and definitely the prettiest. I'd bet all the others would love to have a round with you."

"Maybe I should let them," You said with confidence. "Mm, what about that cute, little History teacher? Professor Donaldson? Think he'd be interested?"

He tensed at that, jaw twitching. "Yeah, he'd love to get his hands on you, I'm sure. That loser couldn't even keep his wife, and now he probably spends his free time staring at your ass..."

"Oh so he's an ass man? Thanks for letting me know." You gave Patrick a sweet smile while his top lip curled in disgust.

"And what of the rest of the staff?" He asked, not liking your smug expression. "What about the psychology teacher, or the business professor... or maybe even the dean?"

"The Dean? How taboo." You grinned.

"Very taboo," He grunted. "Which I'm sure you're into... I'm sure you'd go absolutely wild at the thought of getting bent over the desk of the college dean, huh?"

"I mean, he's just a little too old for me, but I hear older men are more experienced."

He scoffed again, his fingers tracing down to your inner thighs, close to your aching core. "You're really pushing it, you know... what if I had to tell the rest of the staff what a little whore you are?"

"Oh please do. They must know how well I sucked your cock, how good I am with my mouth."

"Yeah?" He said smugly, his hands moved to your underwear and began massaging your aching pussy. "Do you think the rest of the staff would be interested in having their own personal mouth whore? And I'm sure you'd just be aching for it, wouldn't you? You'd just love to be the campus little toy, just be passed around amongst the faculty... probably can't wait for it, in fact."

You whimpered, feeling your mind already fog up from his fingers through the fabric of your thongs. You shifted your hips, giving him more room to move your pencil skirt.

"Yeah, is that what you were thinking about? Sitting at your desk, thighs spread wide open, and just being passed around? Like you're nothing but a toy for the entire faculty to use, as much as we want?"

"S-Shut up."

"Don't get shy, Professor," He said smugly. "We all know you love the idea, probably even think about it while you're alone in your apartment late at night... I bet you're thinking about it right now."

You sighed, your fingers going to unzip your skirt with wobbly movements.

"You know, it'd be perfect, you'd probably never need to teach again, you'd just be a little office slut, going around and helping any single man in the building, you'd be much better suited for that anyways, I'm sure you know that."

"No..." you groaned out, pushing your skirt off.

His fingers dipped beneath the lace of your thongs. "Yes, Professor, you wouldn't get anything done in the day, you'd be too busy servicing every member of the faculty, the principal, the other professors, the TAs, and the other staff members, even the groundskeepers and lunch-men, I bet you'd be the most diligent worker around campus."

You gasped when two of his fingers sunk into your weeping hole.

"Yeah, that's it... that's much better than all that teaching you do, isn't it? At least you'd be really useful now," He snickered, pushing his fingers in to the base. "Although I'm sure you'd end up getting pretty tired pretty fast... and I doubt the rest of the staff would have any sympathy on you for being so tired. I'm sure you'd be the most popular employee by far."

He pulled his fingers out. His two hands landed on your shoulders before he spun you around, basically pulling you off the desk until the edge was cutting into your hips, your face pressed up against the mahogany.

"I bet this is how you always dreamed you'd spend your days here, huh? Bent over the desk instead of writing your pretty little papers." He grunted as he bent down to his discarded pants and fished out a cigarette and his lighter.

"Hey, you can't smoke in here." You told him.

"Oh, now you're going to actually remember your responsibilities?" He said with an amused chuckle, lighting the cigarette. "Too late for that now, Professor... just accept what's happening."

He set the lighter down on the desk before taking a long drag from the cigarette, watching as a stream of smoke left his lips.

"You're a little late to be playing the prim, Professor, after being on your knees in the middle of the lecture hall just a few minutes ago."

The hand that wasn't holding his cigarette went to your underwear, where he began to tug at it, just enough for it to stop midway down your thighs.

"And now you're here, on your desk, about to get bent over like a little toy, I'm sure you never imagined it'd turn out like this," He snickered, the hand on your panties giving a teasing pull. "I don't think you're gonna be wearing these to your next class,Professor."

He let his cigarette hang between his lips while both of his hands landed on your ass cheeks, giving them a spread to expose both holes.

"God, look at you..." He muttered. "So eager, probably been trying to hold out for weeks now, huh? I don't think you've had any action in a long time, Professor, you're just desperate for someone to actually notice you, I bet you'd take anything, wouldn't you? Just as long as it gives you attention."

"Dickhead." You mumbled.

He laughed, stilling taking puffs from his cigarette. "Bet you'd let me take any hole I want. Imagine your tight ass being stuffed with this cock. Probably why you wear those little skirts," He snickered. "You just want someone to be noticing you, to get their eyes on just how provocative you are... desperate for some attention."

You didn't hear any movements, but you sure as hell felt them. His dribbling tip found your opening, before he pushed in, all while he eyes your tighter hole that puckered for attention.

"Mm, look at that, you're so tight, I bet those other professors have no idea how tight you still are, or has someone else been giving you attention?"

Your eyes rolled back as he sheathed himself, pain blossomed between your legs.

"Fuck, baby… you're so tight. It's like you've never had a good, real cock fill you up. I bet the other professors would love to hear that, Professor, that their pretty little English teacher is a needy little whore who just needs a good, hard cock to keep her in her place," He chuckled at he slowly started to buck into you. "You're just so perfect for this, aren't you?

Patrick leaned forward, cigarette still hanging from his lips, as his hand dug into the collar of your blouse, yanking down hard and popping all the buttons before he shoved your head back down onto the desk.

"There you go. I'm not even sure why you wear all these pesky clothes, you look so much better like this, like you're just here for decoration. A pretty little thing, ready for the taking... doesn't your staff profile say you have a boyfriend, Professor? Maybe I should give the poor bastard a call and let him know that you're really not working late, and that you're just getting railed by your colleague... I'm sure he won't even care."

"Shut the f-fuck up." You groaned, feeling the fat of your ass jiggle with his thrusts and arousal drip down your thighs.

Patrick grinned, his fingers dug into the flesh on your hip, when his eyes caught sight of something. An idea popped into his mind as he picked up your personal reader, some book about faeries, before he threw it down in front of you. "Read."

"Read..?" You muttered, still dazed from him fucking into you. "You want me to read?"

"Yeah I do," He said smugly, not slowing his pace. "That's what you're supposed to be good at, Professor... read whatever sentence is on the page, out loud. Let me hear your pretty voice."

You grunted before flipping open the book to a random page. "Mm, Fine, 'He raised a finger to his lips a-and winnowed'—fuck!"

He chuckled at the break in your voice, how the words stuttered from your mouth. "That's better... read again. The next paragraph this time, if you can manage it."

Your lips fell open and a gasp ripped past, "'We free-fell, and I didn't have breath to scream as his wings appeared'— Mm, Patrick..."

"Come on," He said smugly, his movements becoming slightly rough. "Keep reading. If you stop, I'll stop."

The words printed on the page began to swirl together as your vision became hazy. "B-But." You moaned through gritted teeth.

"No buts," He said firmly. "Keep trying. Don't start giving up now, you're supposed to be smart, remember? Keep trying to read, Professor, it's what you're supposed to be good at."

You couldn't help the sob that escaped your lips, there were no tears, you were just too overwhelmed with pleasure that it was hard to focus. "'Spreading wide, and... he curved us into a... steady g-glide.’ " Your nails clawed at the desk as you felt heat burn between your legs.

Even he was impressed with you managing to keep reading through the pleasure, although he would never tell you that. "Good... good, Professor. Keep going. What's the next line?"

"'Right through the open windows of what ha...had to be a war room...' Patrick, I can't." You mewled.

"You must've misunderstood me," he grunted. "I told you tokeep reading, so you keep reading, Professor. Come on, what was the next part of the sentence?"

You shook your head, mind too fogged to think.

He stopped moving altogether and reached out, one hand grabbing you by the hair, and he pulled your head upwards, arching your back. "What did I just say?"

You whined, trying to move your hips back onto his to get friction.

"You're not getting anything if you're not gonna do what I tell you," He said firmly. "Now come on, you're supposed to be smart, Professor, I'm sure you can tell me just one more line."

"'There was a mirror'," You said softly, with a tired voice. "'On the wall behind them'."

"There we go," He breathed, releasing his grip on your hair. "Was that so hard, Professor? Do you think you can keep going?"

"Please, I need to... need to—." You stopped yourself, words stuck in your mouth, as if you were worried about what you might say.

Patrick's hips pulled back before snapping forward, sending you lurching back onto the table. "What was that? I didn't quite hear what you were gonna say, Professor," he grunted, letting his hand caress your lower back. "Come on, you're doing pretty good so far... use that pretty voice of yours and tell me just what you need."

You whimpered, trying to form a response, but it felt like you had cotton in your mouth, like the words were stuck in your mouth. It was like they just needed a little push, just one little word needed to tip you over the edge, to get you to fully submit.

You tried your very best to read again, feeling the fuzzy feeling in your lower tummy start to build. "'There was d-dark—' please Patrick, I really can't." You begged.

"Shh-h-h," He cooed, his hand rubbing your lower back. "You're doing so good... you've read your whole little paragraph. Now you're just missing that one last sentence, Professor. Just one more, I'm sure you can do it."

The cigarette he was smoking had burned down and fell from his lips, the sizzling butt of it lay on your floor.

'''Colossal sense of him—' Fuck!" You screamed, tired and aching for a release that began to creep up on you.

He chuckled as the book slid free of your hand and hit the desk with a thud. "See, I knew you could do it, Professor, I knew all you needed was a little push,"

You mewled out softly, letting your mind fully focus on Patrick penetrating you.

He chuckled as your body relaxed, clearly getting tired of trying to keep up the act. "Is that it, Professor? Is that all it takes to get you behaving?"

You'd usually snap back and say something witty, but you couldn't. Not when you felt this new pressure press against your puffy clit.

"Oh, and now you get nice and quiet... I guess you just needed some attention, huh, Professor?" he chuckled out, his voice ragged. "You look so damn good like this, bent over like a little slut for me, and you don't even have it in you to fight back." He tutted, feeling your walls clamp down and squeeze around him.

"I'm...I'm..."

"What's that?" He asked, still teasing. "You're what, Professor?"

"Cumming! I—!" You saw white before you felt it. Hot and raw through your veins as your orgasm soared through you.

Patrick swore as he felt himself come undone, not giving a flying fuck about pulling out.

"God, you feel so good..." He muttered through gritted teeth. "I knew you just needed a good, hard cock to get you to behave."

His rough hand pulled away from your clit and landed a harsh slap against your ass before he pulled out.

You felt used and abused and honestly didn't mind it, especially not after having your brain fucked out of you (albeit it being from your worst enemy)

He chuckled breathlessly, collapsing in the chair that was usually reserved for you. "Jesus, Professor... I gotta say, I didn't think you'd behave that quickly, I guess a day at the top will do me wonders."

You felt utterly pathetic as you peeled yourself off the table, your face sticky with previous endeavours. Pain burned hot between your legs as you stood up, blouse popped open, pantyhose ripped, and thighs soaked in cum.

Patrick had to pinch himself to make sure he didn't die and go to heaven, though he'd never admit that you looked like a pervert's wet dream. His wet dream.

You shimmied your panties back up your thighs, even though it took you time to get it to move from it being stuck between the nylon and your thigh, and grabbed and slid your skirt back on.

He watched you pull your clothes back on, looking like an absolute mess. "You gonna go tell the rest of the faculty how your supposed work day turned out, Professor?" He sneered with an amused smile.

You shot him a sarcastic smile as you tried your best to fluff out your hair. "I'm sure Professor Donaldson would love to know, y'know?"

Patrick's face fell for a moment before he schooled it with a grin. "Funny."

You made an amused sound, before turning to your drawer and grabbing your lecture hall's keys, tossing them at Patrick. "Lock up, will you?"

He caught the keys and sighed, shaking his head. "God, you're insufferable..."

You gave him a grin before you began on your slightly wobbly walk out the lecture hall.

He grumbled, his eyes not able to resist the urge to watch your hips sway with each step you took.

"See you next week, Professor..." he called out, trying to school his voice back to his usual teasing tone.

And well he did.

Anger and annoyance etched onto his face as he watched you leave Professor Donaldson's lecture hall. The guy looked all bashful as you left, your fingers in your hair, trying your best to fix it.

Oh you did not.