#pls ignore the fact that i have like no plot for what the girls are doing at all | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gardenwons · 1 month ago

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NERDY AND NASTY

SYNOPSIS maybe making a nerd beg for your forgiveness was your kink? And maybe making you beg was also his?

PAIRINGS nerd!heeseung x popular!reader

WARNINGS smut with plot(?), switch!heeseung, making out, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, size kink, praising, somewhat insecure heeseung, hint at future 3some

A/N 8k+ words heavily inspired by all the nerd fics *leeechin and her loser!hoon pls.. im currently reading and eating up, loser!hee is long overdue at this point needed to make him a priority lol also super sleepy so not proofread

“I really don’t think you should go through with this. You’ll chew him up and spit him out,” Wonyoung whispered in your ear, her eyes flicking toward the guy a few seats ahead of you.

You hadn’t been paying attention to class for the past two hours, too busy eyeing Heeseung—lanky, messy hair, big glasses that slipped down his nose as he furiously scribbled notes. Something about the way he muttered to himself and hunched over his textbooks made you wonder what he’d be like when things got... intimate. You found yourself biting on your bottom lip and grinned.

“Do you think he’s a virgin?” you whispered back to Wonyoung, ignoring her warning.

She giggled softly. “Maybe. But even nerds have game these days. Might as well find out.”

“I swear, Y/N is staring at you,” Jungwon whispered excitedly, nudging Heeseung’s arm for what felt like the hundredth time. Heeseung tried to ignore him, rolling his eyes.

“No way. She doesn’t even know I exist,” he muttered, flipping through his notes with forced indifference. The idea of you noticing him was ridiculous. You were you—confident, untouchable. He was just some guy trying to survive the semester.

But then, he chanced a glance behind him, just to prove Jungwon wrong. His heart jumped into his throat when his eyes met yours. You didn’t look away. In fact, you winked at him.

Heeseung’s face flushed crimson as he whipped his head back to the front, his pulse racing. Jungwon snickered beside him, clearly enjoying his reaction.

“Told you, man,” Jungwon teased.

Heeseung’s thoughts were spinning. There was no way someone like you would actually be interested in him... right? But he couldn’t help the small spark of hope that flickered in his chest. You, the girl everyone wanted, were giving him attention. For once, he wasn’t invisible. And that both terrified and excited him.

You slipped through the mass of students as soon as class ended, making a beeline toward Heeseung. He was still at his desk, packing up his notes, oblivious to the fact that you were heading straight for him.

Jungwon noticed you first, eyes widening in surprise as he fumbled with his notebooks, hugging them to his chest. “H-Hi, Y/N,” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly as he elbowed Heeseung hard to get his attention.

Heeseung let out a small groan, rubbing his side as he looked up. His expression shifted from irritation to wide-eyed surprise when he saw you standing in front of him.

“Hey, I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself with a casual smile, though you knew you didn’t have to. Your reputation precedes you, but there was something cute about doing it anyway—like a formality. You watched as both of them stammered out their own introductions, even though you already knew their names. They were shy, but that just added to the fun.

“I know who you guys are,” you continued, leaning in slightly. “I was wondering if you’d want to group up for the project? Wonyoung ditched me for someone else, and I thought it’d be okay to work with you guys.” It was a harmless cover, but in reality, you had your eyes on Heeseung for other reasons. Still, two birds with one stone, good grades and a chance to see what Heeseung was really about.

Jungwon immediately nodded, almost too eagerly, slapping a hand on Heeseung’s shoulder. “We’d love that,” he said with a grin, giving Heeseung a look as if urging him to just go along with it.

Heeseung blinked, clearly still processing the fact that you were talking to them at all. “Uh, yeah, I guess it’d be fine,” he mumbled, his lips curling into a shy smile as he glanced at you nervously.

“Perfect! Let me give you guys my number,” you said, flashing them a confident smile. Both of them handed over their phones without hesitation. You quickly entered your contact information on Heeseung’s phone, adding a little heart next to your name for good measure before handing it back.

Jungwon’s eyes darted between you and Heeseung, a knowing grin playing on his lips as you sauntered off. “Dude,” he muttered, nudging Heeseung again, “you better not mess this up.”

Heeseung just stood there, staring at his phone, his heart racing as he saw your name and the heart emoji.

“I’m not sure what just happened,” he muttered under his breath, still in disbelief, “but I think I’m in trouble.”

Two days had passed, and you were growing impatient. Not a single text from either Heeseung or Jungwon. Were they really that swamped with schoolwork, or were they just too shy to make the first move? Deciding you’d waited long enough, you took matters into your own hands and set out to track Heeseung down.

You checked all the usual spots where nerds hang out��the library, the study hall, even the cafeteria—but no luck. Then, as you wandered the quieter part of campus, you passed by the music room. It was mostly abandoned now, dusty and forgotten, but something made you stop. A soft humming caught your ear, pulling you toward the ajar door.

Peeking in, you spotted Heeseung sitting alone, flipping through his notebook and humming quietly to himself. The sight of him caught you off guard—he looked so... at peace. You watched him for a moment, his soft voice filling the empty room. No wonder you couldn’t find him earlier; no one came here anymore.

After a minute of listening, you knocked gently on the door, making him jump. His wide eyes shot up to meet yours, looking startled—almost terrified—at the sight of you standing there.

“S-Sorry, I didn’t know you were—” he started, scrambling out of his seat, offering it to you in a flustered rush. It was the only clean seat in the room, the rest of the space coated in dust and neglect.

But you weren’t focused on that. Your eyes were drawn to him—his usually neat appearance was slightly undone. Two buttons on his shirt were carelessly unbuttoned, his tie loosened around his neck, and the messy look was doing things to you. He looked unexpectedly... hot.

Heeseung, on the other hand, was fumbling through an apology, but all you could think about was how good he looked, so different from his usual polished self.

You rolled your eyes, sitting down with a huff, blowing loose strands of hair away from your face. As you settled in, you beckoned Heeseung toward you with a slow curl of your finger. His breath hitched, and you could already see the nervous sweat forming on his forehead, his body stiff with tension as your presence overwhelmed him. Reluctantly, he shuffled closer until he crouched down, his wide eyes barely able to meet yours as you stared him down.

“It’s not very nice to leave me waiting,” you said coolly, your voice laced with annoyance. Heeseung’s cheeks flushed deeper as he nodded, his gaze flicking away quickly, unable to hold eye contact for more than a few seconds.

“I-i didn’t know what to message you...” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked embarrassed, and the sight of him, so timid and unsure, almost made you laugh. Almost. But you bit down on your lip, forcing back the giggle bubbling up. Instead, you shrugged, feigning disinterest, as if his pathetic nervousness didn’t amuse you.

“A simple ‘hi’ would’ve worked,” you replied nonchalantly, watching him squirm under your gaze. You let the tension hang in the air before adding, “But now... I think I want an apology.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened, and he nodded quickly, already muttering, “Of course, I’m really sor—”

“On your knees,” you interrupted, your voice taking on a teasing, yet commanding tone. “Just so I know you’re sincere.” You fluttered your lashes at him, lips curling into a playful pout.

Heeseung’s breath hitched again, his throat visibly bobbing as he swallowed nervously. But he didn’t argue. Slowly, he dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands trembling slightly as they hovered by his sides, unsure of what to do. His face flushed a deeper red as his eyes unintentionally fell to the edge of your skirt, where the faintest hint of your pink panties teased him, peeking between your legs. His mouth went dry, and he quickly averted his eyes, his whole body tense as he knelt there, waiting for your next move.

You nodded, silently urging him to continue. Heeseung stammered, his voice shaky as he tried to find the right words. He felt embarrassed, hot under your intense gaze. Just moments ago, everything had been peaceful—normal even—but now, here he was, on his knees, trying to beg for forgiveness while resisting the growing urge to glance between your thighs.

“I-I’m really sorry, Y/N,” he whispered, his head dropping low in shame, every emotion swirling inside him, mixing into a mess of anxiety, desire, and guilt. He prayed none of it showed, especially the inappropriate thoughts creeping in as he tried to save face.

But you weren’t done. You reached down, gently grabbing his chin, tilting his head back up until his wide eyes met yours again. You fixed his glasses, which had slid down his nose, and ran your fingers through his messy hair. “You’re so cute like this, y’know?” you said softly, a teasing smile playing on your lips. Heeseung choked on his spit, blinking rapidly as his mind struggled to keep up with the situation.

Before he could respond, you stood up, the edge of your skirt brushing against his face. From this angle, he had an unobstructed view of the way your panties moulded perfectly to your cunt, leaving little to the imagination. His breath hitched, and he felt a dizzy wave wash over him. Heeseung’s face turned a shade of red so deep he thought he might faint.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry about that,” you said with mock innocence, feigning surprise as if you hadn’t planned it all along. Your voice dripped with playful teasing, and you watched as Heeseung struggled to regain control of his thoughts, his eyes darting anywhere but toward you.

You leaned down, lowering yourself to eye level with him again, your lips curling into a smirk. “You’ll forgive me, won’t you? After all i’ve already forgiven you,” you whispered, your tone dripping with suggestion. His mind raced, and his throat felt dry as he nodded frantically, completely out of his depth, but too entranced by you to say anything coherent.

Satisfied, you patted his cheek lightly before turning to leave, letting your fingers trail under his chin for just a moment longer. “Good boy,” you murmured under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear. With one last glance over your shoulder, you placed your phone up to remind him of what to do and walked out of the room, leaving Heeseung kneeling on the floor, heart pounding, utterly shaken.

Heeseung stayed frozen in place for a few moments after you left, still processing what had just happened. His hands trembled slightly as he ran them through his hair, mind racing, trying to figure out how to face you again—or if he even could.

Needless to say, he did message you. His text came in late that night, "Hey, about earlier... I'm really sorry again." You could almost picture him, blushing behind his phone, nervously typing and deleting his words before sending them. That was the moment your plan began to take shape.

It wasn’t long before the perfect opportunity arose. Heeseung and Jungwon invited you over to their place to work on the project. You had played it cool, agreeing without hesitation, masking your real intentions behind the promise of schoolwork. This was your chance to get Heeseung exactly where you wanted him.

You stood outside their apartment door, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips as you checked your reflection on your phone screen one last time. You’d dressed down, but in a way that still showed just enough—casual yet enticing. After all, you weren’t here just for the project.

When Jungwon opened the door, he greeted you with a warm smile, stepping aside to let you in. “Hey! Glad you could make it,” he said, gesturing toward the living room.

As you entered, you noticed immediately how much more relaxed they seemed in their own space. Heeseung sat on the couch, dressed in a fitted graphic tee that accentuated his lean frame, and joggers that hugged his legs perfectly. Gone was the timid, nerdy look he sported in class; here, he was undeniably handsome, and you couldn’t help but appreciate the transformation. Jungwon was equally attractive, his casual hoodie and jeans showcasing a well-defined physique that you hadn’t fully registered before.

“Hey, Heeseung,” you teased, letting your voice drop a little lower as you stepped further into the room. He looked up, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly averted his gaze, but not before you caught the flicker of something in his expression.

“Hey,” he mumbled, a nervous smile breaking through. You could see him trying to maintain his composure, but his cheeks betrayed him, coloring a light pink.

As you all settled down to work, Jungwon started outlining the project guidelines while Heeseung focused intently on his notes, though you noticed he couldn’t help stealing quick glances your way. You played along at first, discussing ideas, jotting down notes, and pretending to pay attention. But soon enough, the atmosphere shifted.

You stretched out casually, your shirt riding up just enough to reveal a hint of skin, drawing Heeseung’s gaze once again. “It’s getting hot in here,” you murmured, more to yourself but loud enough for Heeseung to hear. His fingers tightened around his pen, and you could see his jaw clench as he fought the urge to look directly at you.

“You okay, Hee?” you asked, your voice laced with playful concern. “You seem a little... distracted.”

Jungwon, oblivious to the tension, glanced over at Heeseung and chuckled. “Heeseung’s always like that when he’s stressed,” he said, shaking his head. “But we can take a break if you need one.” You noted how Jungwon didn’t realize that the real distraction was you, sitting so close, your knee brushing lightly against Heeseung's under the table.

He swallowed hard, struggling to maintain his composure as you continued to inch closer, your knee brushing against his under the table. It was a simple touch, but to him, it felt electric. His thoughts spiralled as his mind conjured images of everything he’d been trying to suppress since that day in the music room.

Suddenly, Heeseung stood up abruptly, almost knocking his chair over. “Uh, can you... can you guys give me a minute?” he stuttered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “I need to... um... take care of something.”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Take care of what? We’re in the middle of a project, hee.”

“Yeah, it’s nothing! Just- just a quick break,” he said, his voice rising slightly in pitch. “I’ll be back in a second. Please, just give me a minute.”

He quickly retreated into the hallway, leaving you and Jungwon in stunned silence.

Jungwon looked over at you, puzzled. “Is he okay?”

You shrugged, suppressing a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “I think he might be overwhelmed,” you said, a smirk playing on your lips.

“Maybe we should go check on him,” Jungwon suggested, but you shook your head.

“No, let him have his moment. It’s probably just a bathroom break or something,” you replied, biting your lip to hold back your amusement.

Taking a deep breath, Heeseung leaned against the wall, trying to calm his racing heart. He could hear you and Jungwon talking softly in the living room, and the reality of what was happening hit him hard. He was undeniably attracted to you, and the more you flirted, the more he found it impossible to focus.

With shaky hands, he fumbled for his phone and quickly typed out a message: Hey, I’m really sorry, but I’m feeling kind of sick. I think it’s best if we wrap this up for today.

He hesitated before hitting send, biting his lip as he envisioned your reaction. But it was better this way; he couldn’t risk being in the same room with you when his mind was racing in directions he didn’t want it to go.

After a moment that felt like an eternity, his phone buzzed with a reply. You had responded almost immediately: Are you okay? Do you want me to bring you anything?

He frowned at your concern, a mix of guilt and appreciation swirling in his chest. No, I’ll be fine. Just tired, I think. Thanks for understanding.

Another buzz. Okay, we can reschedule. Take care!

He sighed, relief washing over him. Thanks, Y/N.

He took a moment to collect himself, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. He felt guilty for lying, but he knew it was for the best, at least until he figured out how to handle his feelings.

When he finally stepped back into the living room, you and Jungwon were both looking at him expectantly. Jungwon spoke first, his brow furrowed. “Hey, everything okay? You look a little pale.”

“Yeah, I just... thought it was best to call it a day,” Heeseung said, forcing a smile. “I’m not feeling great, and I wouldn’t want to distract you guys from the project.”

You raised an eyebrow, concern evident in your eyes. “Are you sure? I can stay if you need anything.”

“No, really. I think it’s best if you go home and let me rest,” he insisted, trying to sound convincing.

“Okay, if you say so,” you replied, though the hint of disappointment in your voice didn’t go unnoticed by him.

You lingered for a moment, looking at Heeseung as if weighing your options. “Text me if you need anything, alright?”

“Of course,” he replied, forcing himself to sound upbeat.

With one last look, you finally turned to leave, and Heeseung felt a pang of regret hit him. As soon as the door closed behind you, he leaned against it, exhaling deeply.

“Everything okay?” Jungwon asked, glancing back at Heeseung, who was still trying to catch his breath. “You looked really flustered when Y/N was here.”

“Yeah, just... a bit overwhelmed,” Heeseung admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t want to freak out in front of her.”

“Dude, she’s into you,” Jungwon said, raising an eyebrow. “You could have just gone with it. Instead, you made her leave.”

“I know,” Heeseung sighed, kicking at the floor. “I just... I don’t know how to handle this. I’m still trying to figure out what I feel.”

Jungwon smirked, shaking his head. “Well, good luck figuring that out while you’re trying to hide your crush. Just don’t take too long.. I don’t want to see you miss your chance.”

Heeseung groaned, plopping down on the couch. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

“Anytime,” Jungwon said with a grin, heading into the kitchen to grab a snack. Heeseung watched him go, feeling a mix of frustration and longing.

Alone in the silence of the apartment, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had just made a huge mistake.

You couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling of concern for Heeseung after he texted you that he was sick. Even though you had shared playful banter, something in his message had felt off, igniting a spark of worry within you. The thought of him alone in his apartment, feeling under the weather, was enough to propel you into action. Determined to check on him, you decided to surprise him with a visit.

With a small bag of snacks in hand, you made your way to Heeseung’s apartment. The soft sound of your footsteps echoed in the quiet hallway, a stark contrast to the anticipation thrumming in your chest. As you entered Heeseung's apartment, courtesy of Jungwon for lending you a spare key, the cozy space wrapped around you like a warm blanket. The gentle aroma of herbal tea wafted through the air, mingling with the faint scent of laundry. Heeseung was curled up on the couch, bundled in a thick blanket, looking adorably vulnerable, but there was a flicker of mischief in his eyes. His hair was tousled, and his cheeks had a faint flush that made him look even more endearing.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” you asked softly, crossing the room to kneel beside him.

He turned his head slightly, his large eyes widening with surprise and delight. “Y/N? I didn’t expect to see you here. I thought I told you I was sick.” His voice was a little too casual, and you could see the corners of his mouth twitching upward, betraying his facade.

You smirked, settling down beside him. “Exactly. That’s why I came to check on you. You can’t just lie around here and get worse. Someone has to take care of you.”

He chuckled weakly, but there was an unmistakable glint of mischief behind his eyes. “You really didn’t have to.”

“Too bad! I’m here now,” you declared, standing up and placing your hands on your hips, feigning authority. “Now, let’s see if you have a fever.”

Heeseung raised an eyebrow, suddenly hesitant. “Uh, are you sure you need to do that?”

Without waiting for his response, you hopped onto the couch, positioning yourself over him. Heeseung’s breath hitched, eyes wide as you settled your weight on his hips, straddling him. The sudden proximity sent an electric shock through the air, making your heart race.

“Just hold still,” you said playfully, leaning down to press your forehead against his, your fingers gently brushing against his cheeks to gauge his temperature. “You’re warmer than usual, but I can’t tell if that’s from your so-called illness or if you’re just flustered.”

Heeseung swallowed hard, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. “Maybe it’s a little bit of both…”

You chuckled softly, feeling a rush of exhilaration as your playful banter took on an undertone of tension. “I think we need a more accurate method.”

With a playful grin, you pulled back slightly and reached for the thermometer from your bag. As you turned back to face him, you couldn’t resist leaning in closer, teasingly bringing the thermometer up to his lips.

“Open up,” you instructed, a mischievous sparkle in your eyes.

Heeseung hesitated, glancing down at the thermometer, his expression shifting from playful to anxious. “Uh, are you really sure this is necessary?”

“Of course! How else am I supposed to know if you’re truly sick?” you replied, maintaining your teasing tone.

Finally, he relented, opening his mouth to take the thermometer. The moment it beeped, you pulled it away and glanced at the reading. “Looks like you’re slightly warm. But nothing I can’t fix.”

“Is that so?” Heeseung asked, his voice slightly shaky as he tried to maintain his composure beneath you. “Are you sure you want to be here?”

You nodded, a smirk playing on your lips. “Yes! A little TLC should do the trick. Now, let’s get you some soup and-”

Before you could finish your thought, he interrupted you, a sudden seriousness in his eyes. “Y/N, are you sure you’re not just doing this because you feel sorry for me?”

The question caught you off guard. You had been so wrapped up in the playful banter that you hadn’t fully considered the implications of your actions. “What do you mean?”

“I mean… I don’t want you to feel obligated to take care of me just because I’m ‘sick.’ If you’re here because you genuinely want to, then that’s one thing. But if it’s out of pity…” His voice trailed off, uncertainty clouding his expression.

You bit your lip, feeling a rush of warmth at his vulnerability. “Heeseung, I’m here because I want to be. I wouldn’t have come if I didn’t care about you.”

The tension between you two hung in the air, your heart racing at the honesty in your words. You could see the relief wash over his features, followed by a glimmer of something deeper, something that felt almost like hope.

“Really?” he asked, his voice softening.

“Yeah,” you replied, your gaze steady on his. “I like being here with you, even if you are pretending to be sick.”

Heeseung smiled shyly, his heart swelling with emotion. “Thanks, Y/N. That means a lot to me.”

With that, the playful atmosphere returned, but now it was layered with something more- an understanding, a connection that felt genuine and real. As you straddled him, the weight of your body pressed against his, sending a jolt of electric tension sparking through the air. Heeseung's breath hitched, confusion mingling with an undeniable desire swirling within him. The playful glint in your eyes ignited a fire in his chest, the warmth of your presence overwhelming in the most intoxicating way possible.

“Y/N, are you really sure about this?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly, as if afraid this intoxicating moment would shatter like glass at any moment.

��Absolutely,” you replied, a mischievous smirk curling your lips as you leaned closer, your breath teasingly brushing against his ear. “But first, let’s check your temperature.” The teasing lilt in your voice sent shivers cascading down his spine.

He hesitated, caught in a whirlwind of emotions that twisted and turned inside him. “I’m not really sick, though…” he mumbled, cheeks flushed and gaze flickering to the side, not wanting to admit how desperately he craved the closeness.

You let out a soft, playful laugh, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Oh, come on, seungie. Let me take care of you.”

Before he could protest any further, you pressed your palm against his forehead, the heat radiating off him igniting a thrill in your veins. Heeseung gulped, feeling the weight of your gaze anchoring him in place, his mind racing as he struggled to focus. You could see the way he squirmed under your touch, his breath hitching at the slightest contact, his vulnerability only heightening your desire.

“You’re definitely warm,” you said, feigning seriousness, your thumb gently stroking his cheek, relishing the softness of his skin. “But I think we need to take this a step further.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper, heart racing with anticipation and confusion, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

Without answering, you shifted slightly, sliding your hands down to his waist, locking your eyes onto his. “I need to get a better reading.” With that, you fully settled into his lap, your weight pressing him deeper into the plush couch. Heeseung’s breath hitched, eyes wide as he felt the intoxicating heat of your body against his.

“Y/N, wait—”

You leaned closer, fingers grazing the fabric of his shirt, teasingly close to where you knew he wanted you the most. “Just relax, Hee. Let me take care of you.”

He hesitated, heart pounding fiercely as you leaned in, capturing his lips in a teasing kiss. The softness of your lips against his ignited a fire within him, and he instinctively leaned into you, craving more. “This isn’t fair,” he murmured against your lips, the pull between you almost magnetic, trying to pull away but only finding himself drawn closer.

“Why not?” you countered, a sly smile playing on your lips, mischief dancing in your eyes. “You’re the one who looks like you need this the most.”

His cheeks burned at your words, heat pooling low in his stomach as he wrestled with his desire. “But I’m not-”

You cut him off with a sultry grind against him, the sudden friction causing him to gasp, a sharp intake of breath that echoed the conflict raging inside him. “Tell me you want this,” you whispered, your breath hot against his ear, your words dripping with seduction. “Tell me you want me.”

Heeseung’s resolve began to crumble under your teasing gaze, but he couldn’t give in that easily. “I want you, Y/N,” he confessed, the sincerity in his voice laced with a defiant edge. “But I want you to know that I’m not just some easy target.”

Your heart raced at his words, and you leaned in closer, lips brushing against his neck, leaving soft, lingering kisses along his skin. “Then let me take care of you, Heeseung. Just let go.”

He hesitated again, squeezing his eyes shut, fighting against the overwhelming sensations threatening to sweep him away. “I don’t know if I can just let go,” he admitted, voice thick with uncertainty, battling with the emotions swirling within him. “What if this is all a mistake?”

“Or,” you said playfully, pressing your lips to his neck, your voice sultry and inviting, “what if it’s the best mistake we ever make?” You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, eyes glinting with mischief and lust. “You’re clearly enjoying this. I can feel how much you want me.”

Heeseung opened his mouth to argue, but the words slipped away as he felt the heat radiating between you. “I do want you, but-”

You cut him off again, leaning in to capture his lips with a hungry kiss, a challenge hanging in the air between you. “Then let me show you just how good it can be.”

Heeseung’s breath quickened, and the way you looked at him made his heart race even faster. “Fine,” he relented, determination lacing his voice as he leaned closer, breath hitching. “But I want to hear you beg for it first.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, but the challenge sent a thrill through your body. “Oh really? You think you can turn the tables on me?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, confidence returning as he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear, teasingly intimate. “You want me? Show me how much.”

You felt a rush of excitement at his words, but you weren’t about to back down. “Alright then, Heeseung. I want you, and I want you to know that I’m not afraid to take what I want.”

His gaze darkened with lust, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, a smirk playing on his face. “Then let’s see how far you’re willing to go. Beg for it, Y/N. Show me you want this.”

You felt a rush of excitement and defiance at his challenge, but you weren’t one to shy away. “I want you, Heeseung,” you said, your voice dripping with sultriness, “and I want you to give me everything you have.”

“Then let’s make this interesting,” he proposed, his gaze heavy with desire. “You want me to give you everything? Then show me just how much you’re willing to give in return.”

His challenge ignited a fire within you, and you knew you were in for a wild ride. You leaned in, capturing his lips again, this time with more urgency, and Heeseung responded, matching your fervor.

“Y/N,” he breathed between kisses, the air thick with longing. “I want you to know that I’m not going to make this easy for you. I want to see how much you can handle.”

“Bring it on,” you replied, your voice sultry and daring as you pressed your body against his, feeling the heat radiating between you.

As the heat between you surged, you pulled away slightly, your breath mingling in the charged air. Heeseung’s eyes were dark with desire, but beneath that lust, there was a flicker of uncertainty. “Y/N,” he murmured, voice low and gravelly, “are you really sure about this?”

You smirked, your gaze intense and unwavering. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. Just remember, I’m the one who takes charge.”

“Right,” he replied, a hint of bravado creeping into his tone, but the way his hands fumbled as they reached for you only added to the tension. “So what now?”

“Now,” you said, leaning in closer, letting your lips almost brush against his, “you’re going to show me just how much you want me.” The air crackled with anticipation, your heart racing.

With a burst of confidence, Heeseung grabbed your waist, but in his eagerness, he tugged too hard, sending you both tumbling onto the couch in a tangled mess of limbs. His glasses slipped down his nose, and he hurriedly adjusted them, cheeks flushed with a mix of desire and embarrassment.

“Smooth,” you teased, trying to stifle your laughter as you looked up at him. Heeseung’s expression shifted from flustered to determined as he leaned over you, his body hovering above yours, the heat radiating between you palpable.

“Let’s… try that again,” he said, voice shaky but filled with renewed resolve. His gaze roamed your body, taking in every curve, and you could practically see the fire igniting in him.

“Show me what you’ve got, Heeseung,” you urged, your voice sultry and inviting. His confidence wavered for a moment, but he leaned down, capturing your lips that sent shivers down your spine.

His kiss was a mix of passion and clumsiness, his movements a bit awkward as he tried to deepen the connection. You could feel him hesitate, and that uncertainty only fueled your desire. “You’re so cute when you’re trying to be confident,” you teased, pulling back just enough to lock eyes with him.

“Shut up,” he replied, attempting to sound gruff but failing as a nervous smile broke through. He leaned down again, this time his kisses were more insistent, laced with an intoxicating urgency.

As he pressed his body against yours, you felt the heat between you intensify. “You want this, don’t you?” you murmured, your breath hot against his lips.

“More than anything,” he breathed, his voice thick with need. Just as he leaned in for another kiss, his glasses slipped down again, and he fumbled to adjust them, frustration flickering across his face. “Ugh, why am I such a loser?”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound a heady mix of desire and mischief. “It’s part of your charm. Now, stop overthinking it and just kiss me.”

He nodded, visibly calming himself, and leaned in again, this time with a fierce intensity. He pushed his lips against yours, pouring all his eagerness and desire into the kiss, and you melted against him, surrendering to the moment.

Feeling emboldened, you moved your hands to the hem of his shirt, pushing it up to feel the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. Heeseung shivered at your touch, his breath hitching as you traced your fingers along the contours of his body.

“God, you’re so warm,” you murmured against his lips, your voice low and sultry. “You want me, huh?”

“I do,” he replied, voice thick with need, and leaned in, his kisses growing more fervent as he lost himself in you. He pressed his body against yours, the heat radiating off him intoxicating.

But just as he was getting lost in the moment, he accidentally bumped his head against your chin again, and both of you burst into laughter. “I swear I’m not this clumsy normally!” he exclaimed, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly.

“Who cares?” you replied, your tone dripping with seduction. “Just focus on making me feel good.” You pulled him closer, your lips brushing against his neck as you whispered, “Make me feel good.”

His gaze turned heated, a primal desire flickering in his eyes as he leaned in, kissing a trail down your neck. His lips were warm and soft against your skin, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. “Y/N, you feel so good,” he murmured, voice thick with lust.

As he explored your body, you felt him beginning to lose himself in the sensations, the air thick with desire. Just when he seemed to find his rhythm, he accidentally brushed against your thigh with his knee, sending a shiver of excitement through you. “Sorry,” he mumbled, cheeks burning as he tried to regain his composure.

“Don’t apologize,” you whispered, capturing his chin with your fingers and forcing him to meet your gaze. “Just keep going.”

He leaned back in, the mix of confidence and nervousness fueling his desire. “Let me show you what I can do,” he said, voice low and commanding.

With newfound determination, Heeseung kissed a path lower, his lips trailing over your collarbone, hovering just above the swell of your breasts. “Is this okay?” he asked, his breath hot against your skin.

“Yes,” you urged, your heart racing with anticipation. “More. I want more, please seungie”

Encouraged by your response, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against the fabric of your shirt, igniting a fire within you. His kisses were urgent now, fueled by the intensity of the moment, and you could feel the heat pooling between your thighs.

Heeseung’s gaze darkened with desire. The air was electric, thick with anticipation. “I want to eat your cunt” he growled, his voice low, the urgency unmistakable.

“Then do it,” you challenged, your voice sultry as you dared him to take control.

Without a word, Heeseung’s hands were on you, firm and eager. His fingers slid under the waistband of your shorts, and with one swift motion, he tugged them down, leaving you exposed before him. He tossed the fabric aside, eyes devouring the sight of you laid bare for him. His breath hitched as he knelt between your legs, his hands gripping your thighs possessively, pulling you closer.

“You’re going to feel so good,” he murmured, his voice rough with hunger as he leaned in.

With that, Heeseung dove in, his lips pressing against your core. His tongue flicked out, tasting you with the urgency of a man starved. The sensation made your body jolt, and a gasp escaped your lips as he licked you up like he couldn’t get enough.

“Fuck, you taste incredible,” he breathed, pausing only to glance up at you with an intense gaze, his glasses slipping low on his nose. The sight of him, desperate and determined, sent a fresh wave of heat through you. Heeseung's hands tightened on your thighs as he dove back in, licking and sucking with a fervor that made your head spin.

“More, Heeseung,” you moaned, your body trembling under his touch. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Quiet,” he growled, his voice filled with authority as he pulled you closer, burying his face between your legs. “Let me taste you.”

Heeseung’s tongue moved with more confidence now, sliding against you with a precision that left you breathless. He lapped at you eagerly, his hands gripping your thighs, holding you in place as he devoured you with a hunger that made your pulse race.

“Y/N,” he groaned against your folds, the vibration of his voice sending a shiver through your body. “You’re so fucking sweet.”

Heeseung was relentless, his tongue swirling and teasing in all the right places, his mouth claiming you as he drank you in. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, hips rocking against his face as you chased your release.

“Heeseung, yes,” you cried, feeling the tension build inside you, so close to the edge. “Don’t stop, please-”

“Then beg for it,” Heeseung murmured against your pussy, licking up to your clit and circling around it as his eyes locked onto yours. The intensity of his gaze sent shivers down your spine, igniting the fire within you.

“Please, Heeseung,” you gasped, your voice a desperate whisper. “I need more. I need your tongue on me.”

A wicked grin spread across his face, and he continued his teasing motions, his tongue swirling around your sensitive bud. “That’s better,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Keep going.”

You felt a rush of heat flooding your cheeks, but the overwhelming pleasure drowned out any embarrassment. “Ngh~ please,” you pleaded, hips rocking instinctively against his mouth. “I can’t hold on much longer.”

With each lick and gentle suck, Heeseung was relentless, pushing you closer to the brink. “I want to hear you say it,” he coaxed, his breath hot against you.

“Please, Heeseung,” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his hair, urging him closer. “I want to come. Make me come, please.”

“Good girl,” he murmured, diving back in with intensity, his tongue working magic as he teased you relentlessly. The tension inside you coiled tighter, ready to snap as he continued his lewd actions.

With a low growl, Heeseung sucked harder, his tongue pushing you to the brink. “Come for me,” he demanded, his voice thick with lust. “I want to taste you.”

With one final flick of his tongue, the pressure snapped, and you came undone, crying out his name as waves of pleasure washed over you. Heeseung kept his mouth on you, lapping up every drop of your release, his eyes locked on yours, filled with raw desire and satisfaction.

When you finally collapsed back, trembling and breathless, Heeseung pulled back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his lips curling into a cocky grin. “That was even better than I imagined,” he said, his voice dark and dripping with pride. “You taste fucking amazing.”

As you caught your breath, Heeseung’s gaze locked onto yours, the heat between you still simmering, charged with the energy of your earlier exploration. The grin on his face was a tantalizing mix of satisfaction and insatiable hunger, his glasses slightly fogged from the heat of the moment, giving him an adorably flustered look that only heightened your desire.

“You’re incredible,” he breathed, his voice low and husky, leaning closer until your foreheads touched, sharing the same intoxicating warmth.

You smiled, emboldened by his praise, feeling the rush of adrenaline coursing through you. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased, your voice dripping with sultriness as you leaned in to capture his lips in a heated kiss. The taste of yourself lingered on his mouth, mingling with the sweet flavor of desire, and you deepened the kiss, pouring all your pent-up passion into it. The sensation of his warm breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine, igniting an unquenchable fire within you.

Heeseung responded instantly, his hands finding your waist again, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The kiss was intoxicating, a heady mix of urgency and longing, as if you both were trying to consume each other entirely. His tongue slipped into your mouth, teasing and exploring, igniting a blaze deep within you that made your body ache for more.

“Y/N,” he murmured against your lips, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with need and a look of pure love that made your heart race. “I want you.”

“Then take me,” you urged, your voice sultry and low, your heart racing at the prospect. “I’m all yours.”

His expression shifted to one of determination as he captured your lips again, kissing you with a raw intensity that left you breathless, your senses heightened. He pushed you back against the couch, his hands roaming your body with feverish need, exploring every curve, every contour. You could feel his heart pounding against you, a reminder of the electricity crackling between you.

Heeseung's hands slid down your body, grasping your thighs and lifting them to wrap around his waist. “I’ve thought about this,” he confessed, his breath hot against your skin, sending goosebumps cascading across your body. “Thought about how you’d feel wrapped around me.”

“Then let’s make it happen,” you urged, your voice thick with lust as you ground against him, feeling the unmistakable hardness pressing against you. The sheer weight of his cock sent a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins. Who knew a nerd like him could possess such size? A flicker of uncertainty crossed your mind, would he even fit inside you?

With a swift movement, Heeseung adjusted your bodies, positioning himself at your entrance. He paused, looking deep into your eyes, searching for any hesitation. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, breathless, your body aching for him. “I want this, Heeseung. I need you.”

His lips curled into a smirk, a mixture of pride and mischief in his gaze. “Good,” he said, his voice a sultry whisper, before thrusting into you with one powerful movement. The sensation was overwhelming, stretching you perfectly as you gasped at the intensity, your body arching into him instinctively.

“God, you feel amazing,” he groaned, his voice low and raspy, filled with unfiltered desire. The sheer size of him filled you up in ways you hadn’t imagined, igniting a fire within you that drove you wild. You could feel the distinct bulge of his cock in your stomach, a constant reminder of just how much he had to offer. Heeseung had spent countless hours lost in wet dreams and endless scrolls through porn sites, but nothing could compare to this- a real connection, real pleasure that felt as if it was lifting you to new heights.

“Fuck, you’re so big,” you gasped, your eyes rolling back as he continued to thrust, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. His cock stretched you to your limits, filling you completely and making you feel utterly owned.

“Yeah? You like that?” he asked, a smirk playing on his lips as he looked down at where you were connected, watching the way his cock disappeared inside you. “You’re taking me so well.”

The weight of his cock stretching you made you feel desperate, a primal urge to be filled completely. “More,” you breathed, your body begging for him to give you everything he had. You could feel your body tightening around him, urging him on, craving his every thrust.

Heeseung’s expression shifted to one of pure determination as he picked up the pace. The sound of skin against skin filled the air, each thrust pushing you deeper into bliss. “You’re so perfect for me, Y/N,” he murmured, voice thick with lust and admiration. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

“Then don’t stop,” you cried out, feeling the heat coiling in your core. “I’m so close.”

In a moment of playful mischief, you reached up and adjusted his foggy glasses, clearing his view just as his eyes widened in shock and lust. The sight of you, glistening with desire and slightly breathless, made his breath hitch. With a feral growl, he thrust harder, his need intensifying as he chased your shared pleasure.

“Me too,” he groaned, pushing harder, chasing his own release. With every thrust, he buried himself deeper, the overwhelming sensation of his size driving you both closer to the edge, the bulge in your stomach becoming more pronounced with each powerful movement.

With one final powerful thrust, he hit that sweet spot, and the pleasure consumed you both, washing over you like a tidal wave. You felt the tension in your body peak, and as you cried out his name, your orgasm crashed over you, waves of ecstasy washing over you.

“Y/N!” he shouted, feeling you tighten around him, and with one final thrust, he spilled into you, warmth flooding your core as he filled you completely. You could feel the delicious warmth of his release spreading inside you, a sensation that sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your body. The way his cock pulsed inside you made you feel completely full, satisfied in every sense.

You both fell into a panting mess, bodies entwined, the world outside fading away. Heeseung collapsed beside you, breathless but with a satisfied smile playing on his lips, his glasses slightly askew and still fogged from the intensity of your connection.

“Fuck,” he murmured, turning to look at you, his expression a mix of awe and disbelief. “That was… amazing.”

You grinned back, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the connection you’d just forged. “Yeah, it really was. And I didn’t know you were this big.”

He chuckled softly, a hint of pride shining through his eyes, still full of love and admiration. “Guess I have some advantages.”

You laughed, feeling your heart swell at the moment shared between you, an intimate secret you would carry together. “Definitely an advantage.”

As you both began to come down from the high of your shared ecstasy, Heeseung pulled you close, his fingers gently brushing through your hair.. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, a steady reminder of the intensity you had just shared. Your heart felt giddy as you looked at him, his hair tousled and his glasses almost fogged up again from the heat of the moment.

“Let’s clean up before Jungwon gets here,” Heeseung suggested, his voice still slightly breathless but laced with affection as he leaned down to place a tender kiss on your forehead.

You nodded, smiling softly as you helped him untangle yourselves from each other, the lingering warmth of his body still radiating against yours. Adjusting your clothes, you felt a mix of giddiness and satisfaction at the shared intimacy.

Unbeknownst to you both, Jungwon had arrived just moments earlier. He stood just outside the door, the sound of loud moans and passionate cries echoing through the hallway. His face flushed a deep crimson as the realization of what he was hearing hit him like a wave. He blinked in disbelief, blood pulsing to his cock as he listened to his best friend finally manage to fuck.

“Lucky idiot,” he muttered under his breath, a mix of envy and amusement swirling within him. Shaking his head, he turned away from the door, his mind racing with thoughts and images he couldn’t shake. With a silent, careful motion, he closed the door, trying to ignore the lingering sounds of pleasure that filled the air.

As he walked up to his room, Jungwon knew he’d definitely be taking care of himself tonight, the vivid sounds of your shared bliss echoing in his mind as he settled in for a long, private session of his own.

#aik’s thoughts #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #jungwon hard thoughts #heeseung hard hours #heeseung x reader #heeseung scenarios #heeseung smut #heeseung hard thoughts #heeseung imagines

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lovelettersfromluna · 1 year ago

Text

After Dark

Summary: It’s a universal rule that every ghost face at a Halloween party is hot underneath. Let’s test that theory, shall we?

an: AHHH OKAY! Lemme explain. I made a post about participating in kinktober, and while a lot of you wanted me to, I feel like it’s too late for me to properly participate. HOWEVER, I still want to give you something to kick off the weekend! Something spooky AND smutty for all my ghouls out there. I hope you’re all having a good Halloweekend! Pls stay safe and have lots of fun, I’m sure you all have the cutest costumes planned! Also, I took a different approach to reader, so let me know how you guys like her!! 🖤🖤 p.s I was drunk when I wrote this :p

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+, MDNI, porn with no plot, strap-on sex, mentions of the word “cock”, mask kink, alcohol usage, mentions of latex, riding, cliche house party trope, slight sugar mommy!ellie if you squint??, lmk if I missed anything!

Out of all of three hundred and sixty five days of the year, today was your favorite.

Today was the one day within the year that there weren’t really any rules. You could wear anything, be whoever you wanted, and it was socially acceptable to get drunk while doing so, and there was no way in hell you would ever pass up on that.

No matter the circumstances, you were invited to a Halloween party. Whether it was some cheesy bash that was being thrown at a friend of a friends house, or a more upscale party, you were going out.

And you always looked damn good doing so.

You were always praised on your costumes, every year it was expected of you to top what you did the last, so there was no doubt in the fact that you were putting in maximum effort year after year.

This year? You stuck with one of the classics of course. The devil.

You were dripping in skin tight latex, the black corset you wore that pushed your boobs out perfectly, your soft skin nearly spilling out of the tight top, the tight booty shorts that hugged the globes of your ass, your cheeks peeking out, the gloves that hugged your arms, and the thigh high socks that shined under the moonlight, everything you wore was that delicious shiny material that made you look almost unreal.

And underneath it all? You had painted your entire body red, paired with fake red horns peeking out of your pretty hair.

So yeah, you were almost always crowned as the queen of Halloween.

This year was no different, halloweekend had been kicked off with quite the everything shower, making sure your body was in perfect condition for everything you’d be attending. You had gotten ready with your friends at your apartment, getting a few shots in before making it to the biggest party of the year. Everyone looked forward to it, putting together their best costumes for the party at the house that almost everyone died to get into.

Walking down the streets of the city on Halloween was like Christmas, various characters from movies and cartoons cheering, dancing, all social barriers that were put up every other day of the year were down, the veil being lifted for one night that allowed anything to be game.

The amount of whistles you and your friends received on your way there was almost appalling, not to mention the amount of people who told you they’d let you torture them any day. You thought that was cute.

Soon enough, the sounds of the party were near, and you could see the red lights spilling out of the big house in the middle of the block, and you knew it was time.

Eyes were on you immediately, and it made you giggle as you scoped out the food group that was there tonight. Of course you knew they’d stare, drool over you with their mouths open, begging for just a moment of your time.

But you were a very picky girl.

Ignoring their advances was like second nature, all you had to do, was shake your ass, drink some free liquor, and wait for the perfect person to take up your time for the night.

And as always, that never took long for you.

Your hips swayed to the music, eyes closed as you enjoyed one of the best parts of parties. The alcohol you drank made your body warm up in the best way, made every touch on your body feel so much more intense, all while numbing out everything else. It made you feel alive, it made you raise your arms above your head and simply let the music move you.

It was only a moment, your eyes drifting open to make sure your friend was still in front of you, and you’re sure if you hadn’t, you would’ve missed it.

Across the room, stood a tall figure. She wore a loose black t shirt, baggy black jeans, black boots….

And a ghost face mask.

The figure was turned towards you, leaning against the wall with a red solo cup clasped between a hand, a pretty tattoo bleeding into it. Anyone else would have seen it, and thought that whoever it was, was extremely fucking creepy. Everyone knew that ghost face was one of the creepiest people you could choose to be for Halloween ever.

But it just so happened, that you’ve always had a thing for masked killers.

Although you couldn’t see the eyes of the person behind the mask, you could feel them, and it made you burn from the inside. You bit your bottom lip softly, throwing back the rest of the alcohol in your cup before you turned your body more towards them, giving them a good view of your body. You began dancing, putting on a show for them, your glove glad hands running up and down your body, your neck, your boobs, your waist, practically having sex on the dance floor with yourself, all for this stranger who was most definitely watching you.

You feel like you have x-ray vision, because although you can’t see her face, you can see the way she grips her cup tighter whenever you sway your hips, turning around to give her a nice view of your ass. You see the way she shifts her weight onto her other foot whenever your hand runs over the curve of your tits. When you really know you’ve got her, is when you rest your hands on your friends hips, and pull her into your crotch, your eyes never leaving the ghost face mask. You know you’ve got her because she sets her cup down, raises her long, skinny fingers, and silently calls you over before she makes her way down one of the hallways in the house.

And suddenly, a game of cat and mouse begins.

You almost never chase anyone at a party, you’re always the one that’s being chased. However, there’s something about this ghost face. There’s an aura radiating off of her, one that’s dripping of lust, screaming at you, telling you she’s got exactly what you need, exactly what you’re looking for during these stupid Halloween parties.

So you break your little streak, and as soon as she calls you, you’re following her.

The house is lit up with all different colors, the kitchen was purple, the living room was pink, everywhere you turned was another tinted space that fit the Halloween vibe perfectly.

As you look around for your ghost face, you can’t help but huff softly. It almost feels as if she’s disappeared into thin air, as if the alcohol in your system made you hallucinate the entire thing. You begin to question yourself, a soft pout on your lips as you make your way down the final place to look for her.

But of course, you finally find her leaned up against one of the hallways, and of course it’s completely lit up red.

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth as you smile, making you way towards her. Once you’re standing in front of her, you expect her to take off the mask, show her who it is that’s hiding behind that silly mask.

But she doesn’t

You giggle softly, your hand toying with the hem of her shirt as you stare up at her with big doe eyes.

“You gonna show me the pretty face you’re hiding under that mask?” You purr out, and the ghost face simply shakes her head. It makes you pout, tugging at her shirt gently as you lean into her a bit, but still keeping your body a ways away from hers.

“But…how am I supposed to talk to you if I can’t see you” you whine, hoping that this little pouty act will get you what you want. It usually does, but this ghost face seems far too stubborn for that. She simply cocks her head to the side, as if clicking her tongue and mocking your pout.

It makes your pussy flutter with need.

She hasn’t even said anything to you, but you’re already squeezing your legs together, eager for some kind of friction to soothe the ache between your legs, your lips rubbing together with the arousal that grew with each passing second.

You hum softly, your latex clad fingers running down her arm, reaching her tattoo and tracing the pattern gently.

Hm…you don’t recall that one.

She gives you her arm with ease, allowing you to see her tattoo, that makes you smile softly.

“This is pretty…” you hum before you look back up at her, biting your plush bottom lip softly. “Are there anymore for me to find?” You question, giving her a playful smile. This one gets her, because you can hear the way her breath shudders, see the way her chest rises and falls for a moment.

She’s right where you want her.

You hum softly, your hand slowly coming up to the mask, eyeing her closely as you gently begin pushing it up, eager to see her face. You flinch when she grabs your wrist, stopping you from lifting it up any further. You pout again, it’s genuine this time, not like before. A soft huff leaves your lips before you open your mouth to complain, tell the girl that if she doesn’t want to show you her face, you’ll leave to find someone else who will.

But before you can, you’re being tugged into a random bedroom.

Upon entering, you can see why this place is the spot was so popular for parties. The rooms are clean, and the host went as far as to decorate them accordingly, the same red lights from the hallway lighting up the place. If you weren’t so hellbent on getting fucked by the ghost face, you’d most certainly be gushing over what a wonderful party host this was.

Your thoughts are completely cut off by strong arms wrapping around your waist, and pulling you into an even stronger chest. It makes you moan softly, your head falling back against her chest. You feel her strong hands running up and down your latex clad body, squeezing your hips, your boobs, running along your thighs. You can hear her breathing behind you, and you can almost hear the sweet tone of her voice through it.

You let out a small whine, one of your hands coming down to lay over hers, keeping her close to you. “Wanna play with you…” you hum softly, it makes your ghost face groan, her hands squeezing your plush body before she turns you around, and pushes you onto the soft bed.

It makes you giggle softly, your hands running along the soft sheets as you watch her. She looks like a god above you, standing so tall, the ghostly mask almost haunting as she eats you up with her eyes, head cocked to the side as you lazily smile up at her.

You move to prop yourself up onto your hands, palms pressing into the bed, your legs spreading for her. “So…you’re leaving the mask on, huh? Does that make me the helpless victim?” You pout out, holding back a giggle as you recite the lines from the movie the mask came from. It earns a slow nod from your ghost face, and you have to hold back a moan.

“Well…please play with me ghost face…I wanna be yours tonight” you purr out, your body sitting up as you reach forward, your fingers snagging around the belt loop of her jeans and pulling her closer.

You hear a soft sigh from behind the mask, and it almost sounds like she’s suffering, like she’s torturing herself just as much as she’s torturing you by not touching you yet. Her strong hand slowly comes up, cupping your chin gently and angling your head up, her thumb dragging across your bottom lip. You moan softly, kissing her finger gently, it makes her groan again.

She slowly moves down, bending down until her hands are pushed against the bed, caging you in. It makes you crawl backwards, a soft whimper leaving your lips. When she’s this close, backing you up onto the bed, you can catch a glimmer of her eyes beneath the mesh material of the eyes of the ghost. You can see her long lashes, and big green eyes. It makes your pussy throb desperately.

Because fuck, you’ve never seen eyes that pretty before.

You almost done catch her hands reaching down between you, pushing into the tight material of your latex shorts, fingers pressing against your soaked core. You’re so desperate for her, that the small act makes you moan softly, eyes fluttering shut as you grind your hips against her fingers. You can tell she’s skilled just by the way she fingers your clit and rubs you slowly, the right fabric of your shorts making it an even tighter fit.

“Fuck…” you hear softly from behind the mask, and it’s the first time you’ve properly heard her voice, it makes you feel like you can cum right then and there.

You blink softly as you stare into her eyes, watching her as she slowly toys with your pussy, making you whine and moan for her from the small motions of her fingers.

“Mmpph…feels…fuck…your fingers…” you moan softly, feeling yourself growing close just from the way she rubbed your throbbing clit. Your hand goes down to her tattooed arm, grabbing it as she begins to speed up. You whine loudly, your back arching as you grind in tow with her movements, and fuck…you’re so close, you feel like you’re going to explode just from a stranger finger fucking you.

And suddenly, her fingers are gone.

“W-what? Why’d you…why’d you stop” you whimper softly while trying to catch your breath, watching as your ghost face began to tug your shorts off. You whine softly with embarrassment, watching as she silently tugged your shorts off, a string of your arousal connecting you to your shorts. You can’t remember the last time you were this wet.

Your ghost face groans softly, mumbling something under her breath that you don’t quite catch. You open your mouth to say something, but you’re quickly being tugged up into her arms as she lays down on the bed.

Now you’re straddling her lap, your bare core dragging along her jeans as her strong hands massage your thighs. You whine softly, because you can feel the prominent bulge pressing against you through her pants. Her hands go to your hips, forcing you to grind your soaking wet pussy against her crotch, your arousal staining her black jeans, making you burn from the inside out.

You moan loudly, your hands pressing against her lower stomach as you watch the way she slowly grinds you down on her as she pleases. You’re eager, so you’re already undoing her belt and unbuttoning her jeans. You almost expect her to stop you, but she doesn’t, and you’re pulling out her pink strap, the length of it making your mouth water.

If you weren’t so fucking horny, the color would’ve made you giggle, but there’s no time for that. You tug her jeans down a bit more, to which she lifts her hips up to help you, and you begin to crawl up her body slightly until you’re hovering over her length, her hand grabbing the shaft as she runs it along your lips, getting it wet with your arousal before she helps you sink down on it.

The moan you both let out is past pornography, the weight of you pushing down her strap rubs against her clit perfectly, and she’s sure she’s never experienced someone riding her so fucking well. The sound of her pretty voice makes you want to cry, because she’s been teasing you so much that you’ll take just about anything she gives you. You begin to bounce on her length slowly, adjusting to her size, your hands pressed against her chest to act as leverage.

“Oh my…fucking god….mmmhhh…a-ah!” You moan out, eyes fluttering shut as you ride her, back arching as your hands go up into your hair, tugging on it, needing somewhat of an outlet to release the pleasure you were feeling. Your senses were on overload, and you weren’t sure if it was the build up of not knowing who the hell you were fucking, or if it was truly that good, but you’re sure you’ve never had a fuck this good in your entire life.

“Fuck…that’s a good fucking girl…bouncing on my cock so well…yeah…that’s it” the voice makes you moan loudly, your eyes opening immediately. She sounds perfect, her voice low and smooth, strong hands gripping your thighs for a moment before they come down on your ass, spanking you hard and making you moan even louder.

You can practically hear the smirk in her voice when she speaks, her voice dripping with lust as you fuck your self down onto her cock. “Haven’t even seen my face and you’re doing all of this for me…treating me special, pretty girl?” She hums out before moaning loudly with you. You can’t help but nod, slowly feeling yourself becoming dumb on her cock.

“S’good…feels so good…I’ll do anything for you” you moan out almost incoherently, saying just about anything that comes to mind in that moment.

As you continue bouncing on her cock, the motions of it all makes her mask come up a bit, and you catch a glimpse of her plush pink lips tugged beneath her pretty teeth. It makes you whine softly, and you realize you can’t fucking do this anymore.

You reach forward, your hand going to the edge of the mask, and you tug it off of her head.

You feel like you’ll lose your breath, keel over and die at that very moment when you see her, because she’s so fucking pretty. Her brown hair is so messy, soft fringe splayed across her face, prettiest freckles littering her red cheeks, those same green eyes staring into yours, pretty lips tugging into a smirk when she sees the way your eyebrows furrow with pleasure, knowing that it was her face that made you feel that way.

“Just couldn’t wait, could you?” She smirks softly, her words followed by a soft groan, hands traveling up your body and gripping your boobs that were nearly completely spilled out of your top.

“Want you to cum for me, princess…can you do that? Cum all over my cock?” She urges on, her words cut off by various moans as you continue fucking yourself down on her. You want to speak, but you can’t, so all you do is nod eagerly and give her a loud moan, feeling the familiar warmth building up in the pit of your stomach, electricity traveling through your body.

Ellie moans with you, her eyes never leaving yours as she gives you an encouraging nod. “That’s it baby…such a pretty fucking girl…been watching you all night…knew I needed to…fuck…have you…come on baby…cum for me” she commands, and you feel like you’ll turn into jelly just from the way she tells you to do it, so stern, your legs felt like they could no longer hold you up, shaking as your back arched almost painfully, and your orgasm raked through your body.

It was electrifying, the feeling of her cock sliding so deep into you, your walls fluttering around it as you came, her hands gripping your hips tightly as she pushed even deeper into you, her own orgasm visibly washing over her as she pushed her head further into the bed, eyes squeezing shut, curse words flying from her pretty lips.

You both sat there for a moment, Ellie sitting up and pressing her face against your chest as she held you close, hands rubbing against your thighs, soft kisses against your boobs, giving both you and herself a moment to collect yourselves after the intense session you’d just had.

After a few moments passed, you pouted softly as you looked down at the bed and noticed some of the red body paint had smeared onto the bed.

“Fuck…you don’t think the host will be mad about that…do you?” You mumbled softly, trying to avoid the embarrassment you felt at the fact that your fucking costume had ended up screwing you over.

Ellie chuckled softly as she looked down at the bed, humming softly as she pressed another kiss to your chest before she pulled you down to lay down with her, having every intention of keeping you there until enough people left, and you could both go for a shower.

“Nah…I don’t mind” she smirked softly, knowing she’d most definitely be making sure the sheets were changed for you both in the morning.

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie the last of us #ellie x you

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yunhoszn · 9 months ago

Text

motive

PAIRING choi san x f!reader

WORD COUNT 3.37k

GENRES kinda fluff ig﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, friends to lovers, reader is lowkey down horrendous, but san is too i guess, um tbh this is just porn with minimal plot… 😭, reader gets jealous, Tension, i can’t think of anything else for the tame aspect so, making out, exhibitionism, soft dom!san, marking-ish, scratching, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, they’re like kinda clumsy in the way that everything is a fucking joke to them, actually a lot of kissing, san’s a sweet talker, public sex, shower sex, unprotected sex (pls be safe), creampie, cutesy ending

SUMMARY it’s annoying that your gym partner constantly gets flirted with right in front of you, especially when you have a crush on said gym partner. good thing your gym partner has a crush on you, too.

MORE HELLO oh my god okay, this is my first written fic on this blog and im actually so nervous posting it… but fuck it! we ball! this wasn’t originally the first fic i was gonna post but,,, the other one is still marinating in the drafts so you get mr. choi san instead <3 ALSO THANK U SM FOR 100 FOLLOWERS HELLO. my blog is 2 weeks old that’s insanity 🤕 big thank u to the loml @kimsohn for betaing for me ilysm maya <<3 pls reblog if u enjoyed and pls moot me :( i need more atiny friends 💔

“Wow, San, you’re so strong,”

You scoff to yourself as you watch the trio of girls surround him, dainty fingers touching anywhere they can. He laughs sheepishly, shifting his seat on the weight bench. You think it’s funny, really, the fact that he was eating up their attention and acting like he was so shy about it. He was supposed to be your gym partner.

With a small grunt, you take the dumbbells in front of you and focus on your form in the mirror. You make attempt after attempt to ignore the commotion behind you, but ultimately fail. How could you not stare with all the obnoxious giggling? Even as you lunge, eyes zeroed in on the perfect 90° angle your legs make, you can still make out the group’s reflection in the mirror.

Every drag of a manicured nail along his bicep, each twirl of hair, it was pissing you off. You had no real right to be mad, though. It’s not like San was your boyfriend or anything. You were just friends, and he’d volunteered to help you out when you mentioned struggling at the gym. What started as him spotting you when needed and giving tips to help improve your workouts, turned into waiting around for him to stop flirting with the girls who flocked over to him.

Maybe you were being a bit dramatic. It’s not like this happened every time you came to the gym, but it was enough to be irritating. There was also a very high probability that it ticked you off so much because you had a crush on San yourself. Your infatuation was less superficial, however. Yes, he was an attractive man, that was one fact that couldn’t be refuted, but there was more to him than his big muscles and handsome face.

You’d known San since you met in your first year Anthropology course. This was way before he started hitting the gym and building his physique. He used to be this thin, pretty boy. Girls thought he was cute, but that was about it. No one was jumping at the chance to ask him out, or giggling at his every word. No one except for you.

He was not only cute, but he was sweet and funny and just about every good quality you could think of. You didn’t want to be one of those people who thought you were special because you knew him before his insane bodily transformation, though in a way you were. San was your good friend above anything else, and you had a fear instilled in you that that’s all he would ever be. The idea made your stomach churn.

”Do you think you could bench me?”

A sigh pushes past your lips when you see one of the girls get a little closer to him. You’re over working out at this point, ready to just call it a day and go home. What were you doing here if your partner was going to ignore you the entire time? You set the dumbbells back on their respective rack, grabbing your phone and water bottle while simultaneously turning up the volume on your headphones to drown out everything around you.

You don’t bother telling San that you’re leaving, making your way into the changing rooms to grab the rest of your things from your locker. The frown etched onto your face as you do so serves as a reminder that he would never see you in that way. Perhaps you were perpetually stuck as the girl space friend. With a giant emphasis on the space.

There’s a gentle grasp around your wrist, making you jump in surprise. You turn around with wide eyes, pushing your headphones off your ears. San stares back at you with an unreadable expression, lips slightly pursed.

”God, San, you almost gave me a heart attack,” you hold a hand to your chest, heaving up and down a little.

”I tried calling your name, but you didn’t hear me,” he shrugs, releasing your arm and shoving his hands into the pockets of his athletic shorts. “Why didn’t you tell me you were ready to leave?”

”You looked busy.” Really, you wanted to hide the jealousy and bitterness from your tone, but ultimately failed, even throwing in an unintentional scrunch of your nose. It feels like your heart dropped to your stomach, resembling a prey caught by its predator when you realize the connotation behind your words.

San smiles at you, a smug grin that’s so out of character for him, you’re a little nervous now. He takes a step forward and you back up until you reach the lockers, one of his hands coming up to rest on the surface near your head. A small chuckle breaches the sound barrier, his eyes drinking in your figure like he might never get the opportunity to do it again. “Y/N… are you jealous?”

Instinctively, you shake your head. What he doesn’t know can’t kill him. But then he’s raising an eyebrow in question and you feel like a puppy with its tail between its legs. You blink up at him, nails digging into your palms to keep your composure. “Should I be?”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, that same cocky smirk on his features. He knows what he’s doing, you think to yourself. He has you cornered and he’s using it to his advantage. The hand that isn’t holding his weight comes up to your face, fingers gliding along your jaw with a feather light touch. “No, I don’t think so. The only girl who’s attention I really care about is right where I want her.”

Your breathing stutters, halting in your throat and momentarily winding you. Choi San might very well be the death of you. Especially with that darkened look in his eyes, the chocolate brown color now resembling the night sky. His thumb swipes across your lower lip, letting it resume its original place. “What do— what do you mean by that?”

He was giving you a bone, a hint that he could potentially feel the same as you, but you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted the words to leave his mouth and verbally confirm that for you. Want wasn’t even good enough. You needed it.

“There’s no way you don’t know,” San says, voice hushed. “No way that you don’t know how badly I’ve wanted you since first year.”

Something similar to a choked groan departs from you, your pulse racing in your ears, thumping beneath your chest. You’re too stunned to move, frozen in your spot in case this is all some fucked up dream. It doesn’t even occur to you that someone could walk in, doesn’t even cross your mind that you’re in too public of a setting for this conversation or where it could go.

“I don’t— I didn’t…” Your eyes attempt to stay on his, but keep flickering down to his mouth.

“It was so hard for me to play nice guy for so long,” he whispers, a pout adorning his expression. “And today? I couldn’t even stare at you shamelessly because of those damn girls. It’s so fucking annoying when they bother me while I’m trying to flirt with you. But since I’m Nice Guy San, I can’t be rude.”

“You flirt with me?” You snort, your shell shock wearing off and a goofy smile worming its way onto your face. He laughs along with you, tilting away to hide the warmth blooming on his cheeks. The tension is still present, but it’s a lot more bearable.

”I guess I’m not very good at it if you couldn’t even tell,” he glances down at his feet, the confident San from before long gone and now replaced by a bashful version. “Am I going crazy, or is this gonna go somewhere? I don’t want to misread anything and ruin what we already have. The ball is entirely in your court.”

It’s your turn to be shy, shrinking in on yourself slightly. Acknowledging that you had feelings for San was a separate can of worms. There was a big difference between him confessing to you and vice versa. You know if given the stage, you’d just start blabbering on and on about how you feel for him, and that would just be embarrassing for both of you. So instead you say, “Can I show you?”

When he nods, your fingers raise to his jaw, cupping it gently as you lean up. Your lips brush his softly, barely grazing them. His eyes flutter shut, a shiver running down his spine simply from your kiss. A pleasant buzz courses through your veins from your lips to the tips of your fingers. You’ve wanted this forever, you don’t think you could ever go back.

You pull back and San fists the fabric of your t-shirt on your waist, eyes still closed as he chases your mouth. “Fuck, Y/N, can I kiss you again?”

“Please,” you whine, enveloping your lips with his as soon as you get the green light. This time is desperate, noses bumping each other. You’re going lightheaded and dizzy, already intoxicated by him. Your back presses into the lockers behind you, arching into his chest for more.

He deepens the kiss and it’s almost too much. You’re overwhelmed by the emotions taking control of you, not at all prepared for what would come with actually being with San. It had always been a distant fantasy, something that felt so completely out of reach that you didn’t dare let yourself indulge in the notion for too long. The way his lips lock with yours, fluidly and synchronously like missing pieces of a puzzle, you think you can die happily.

“As hot as it would be to fuck you right here, I’d rather not get kicked out of this gym,” he chuckles breathlessly. “And since we’re both sweaty from working out, I think we could use a shower. Don’t you?”

You leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth, nodding frantically at his suggestion. Though you imagined your first time with San being in a bed, slow and sensual, you’d be so stupid to complain about this. Fucking in one of the gym showers, where anyone could hear you? Go big or go home.

He scopes the area to ensure the coast is clear before hauling you into one of the stalls, dragging the curtain shut. You kiss roughly between removing articles of clothing, San turning on the water while his lips make quick work of your neck. Goosebumps form on your skin when the cool water hits it, your fingers combing through his wet hair as he sucks harsh marks into your collarbone and sternum.

“You’re so gorgeous, babe,” he mutters into your skin, nipping lightly at the tops of your tits. One of his hands travels south, sliding through your folds with ease. He rubs tight circles into your clit, prodding at your entrance with his ring finger. “I need you to cum for me once before I fuck you for real, okay?”

“Mhm,” you moan quietly, hiking one of your legs around his waist. His finger pushes inside you to the knuckle and then curls. Your eyes all but roll to the back of your head, back arching off of the tiled wall. “Feels so good, San…”

“Yeah?” He smiles against your skin, trailing pecks up your neck and along your jawline. You whimper in his ear, cunt sucking in his finger greedily. He adds a second, the middle one, and applies pressure to your clit with the heel of his palm. The sight of you falling apart by his hand alone is sending blood rushing to his brain.

Your body feels hot to the touch, risking a downwards glance at where his fingers disappear into your pussy. It forces another whine out of you, your head tossing back. You tug at the strands of hair that stick to the nape of his neck, steeling yourself the only way you can in this position. San just seemed to know you, to know exactly what you needed without you having to tell him. Either he was really good at guessing, or everything he did seemed to be perfect, because you’ve never climbed to the summit this quickly before.

There’s a knot in the pit of your stomach that weaves itself tighter and tighter with each curl of his digits and each swirl of his thumb on your clit. You think you could cry from how attentive he was, from how determined he was to provide you pleasure. Your cunt contracts around his fingers, and he can sense the precipice of your orgasm, speeding up his pace.

You squirm around in his hold, allowing him to spread apart your thighs so he can brush the pads of the digits buried inside of you up against that spongy sweet spot. You’re trembling now, nearing the edge of that familiar cliff. “San, baby, I’m— god— I’m so close,”

“Let go for me, my love.” He coos into the corner of your mouth, hushing your moans. He doesn’t slow his assault, inching you further and further towards your release like it was his own personal mission. That knot in your belly begins to unravel until it slips through your grasp completely, your orgasm rocking into you like a tidal wave.

San aids you as you ride out your high, already spent before he’s even gotten the chance to be inside of you. He kisses you tenderly, pulling out his fingers with caution since you were still so sensitive. Your nails claw down his front, scratching his abdomen with a purpose. He shudders beneath you, lips curling up into another soft smile.

“What?” You ask with a giggle, mirroring his expression when he wipes water from your face.

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, grin unwavering. “You just look really pretty like this.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get into my pants, Choi San.” You tease, yanking him down for a saccharine kiss. He reciprocates without hesitation, drawing his palm on your thigh so he can wrap it around his waist again.

“Me? Never…” He laughs along your mouth. “Is it working, though?”

You roll your eyes playfully, reconnecting your lips. “Are you gonna fuck me for real now?”

“What kinda question is that?” He glides the tip of his cock between your folds, shutting you up instantaneously. He’s heavy where he sits, slipping the shaft through your lower lips. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, you forget where you are, baby.”

Before you can even let out another sound of appreciation, he’s stretching you out, cock thrusting up into your pussy without warning. You jump up a bit to hook your other leg around his hips so he’s supporting your whole weight. The new angle makes it easier for him to delve deeper in your cunt, his dick accessing places you’d never knew existed.

After he’s sure you’ve adjusted to his length, he starts to move, pistoning in and out of you much more forcefully than he did with his fingers. Your lips part for a voluminous moan, but then you hear a group of loud girls entering the shower area and San slaps a hand over your mouth. He makes no effort to stop, fucking into you without a single care for the people on the other side of the shower curtain.

“Did any of you see where San went? He disappeared so fast.”

You recognize the voice as belonging to one of the girls who was openly flirting with San while you were working out. Not even needing to see her, you can picture the exaggerated pout on her face based on her tone alone.

“He probably followed after that stupid bitch he’s always with.”

Your half lidded eyes meet San’s but he still pays no mind to them, digging his nails into your plush thighs. He pulls all the way out, just to slam his cock all the way back in. His pace leisures, but his power doesn’t, abusing your cunt with every snap of his hips.

“I think I’m gonna ask him out next time I see him. I have to stake my claim before someone else does.”

He holds back a laugh, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You drown out their conversation after that, too focused on the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls so deliciously to even worry about those idiot girls. Little did they know he was closer than they thought…

Thankfully, they leave not much longer after that, and he uncovers your mouth. You gasp for air, panting feverishly when he picks up his speed again. Your bottom lip quivers with a whine, too fucked out to conjugate words that make sense.

“You’re taking me so well, baby. Taking me like a fucking princess,” San praises. He groans, water droplets slipping along the valleys of his sculpted chest and abdomen. It drips with every roll of his hips and every thrust of his cock into your pussy. This was what he had been building up to, what he’d been dreaming of for years. “Who’s fucking you like this?”

“Mmm,” you moan, supping him in deeper, further, as cavernous as humanly possible. “You, San— fuck— y-you are.”

You arch your back, sneaking a hand in the middle of the two of you and pressing the pads of your fingers harshly on your clit when you do so. San holds you closer to him so your pelvic bones nearly clash each time he punches into you. The change in depth that he fucks you has your cunt squelching, any semblance of coherent thought escaping you.

Your vision goes blank, stars decorating the backs of your eyelids as your second orgasm blindsides you. Not a sound leaves you after it knocks into you, cumming with so much force you think you might pass out in San’s arms. When you’ve finished, you let out a guttural groan, walls fluttering around his cock.

“Gonna cum— shit— where do—“ you interrupt him with a whimper.

“Cum inside of me,” your begging tone has him spilling into you practically on command. He fills you up perfectly, a moan from deep within him reaching your ears. You both stay like that for a moment, skin sticking to the other’s due to the thin sheen of sweat coupled with the steam of the shower coating your bodies.

You can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes, one of your hands coming up to caress his back gently. He pulls out with a wince, palms resting on either side of you as he recuperates. He breathes through his nostrils, forehead glued to your shoulder. His hands rub up and down your sides soothingly.

“It’s safe to assume you’re gonna turn that girl down when she asks you out, right?” You ask suddenly, attempting to diffuse whatever’s in the air between you now. San laughs into your shoulder.

“Y/N, I’m turning down any girl who asks me out from now on,” he stands upright, biting his lip before kissing you gently. “I don’t think my girlfriend would appreciate that very much.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Girlfriend?”

“Am I being too overzealous?” His nose scrunches up.

“You’re being the right amount of zealous, I think,” you brush away a strand of wet hair that falls into his eyes. “But I think your ‘girlfriend’ would like it if you actually asked her to be your girlfriend.”

Choi San is the prettiest man you’ve ever set your sights on, but somehow, he looks even prettier smiling down at you after having sex with you in a gym shower. It’s a feat that should be considered illegal, and you should receive restitution for the distress it’s caused on your heart.

“Will you be my girlfriend, Y/N?”

And well, maybe you’d deal with that later. It was kind of difficult to ignore that sparkle in his eyes, especially when it was directed at you. You nod without a second thought.

“I would love nothing more.”

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez san #ateez choi san #choi san #choi san x reader #choi san smut #san x reader #san smut #yunhoszn

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friedbaekhyunandeggso · 5 months ago

Text

found you - ch. 5 (part II)

pairing: gojo satoru x female oc (ara natsuna)

tropes: psycho! rival! athlete! yandere! gojo x introvert! booksmart! sheltered! rbf! oc

warnings: 18+ only babes, stalking/possessive themes, profanity, coercion, pet names (kitten, baby, my sweet, cupcake), underage drinking, w33d, grinding, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm denial, rough sex, overstimulation, dub/non-consented sex, drunk sex, handjob (if i missed any jus tell me but pls fr don't read this unless ur an adult)

word count/plot: [15.1k!] ara catches gojo's attention when news breaks that she is the top academically ranked student in their grade. he is ranked second. he tries to befriend her but she ignores him. despite her obvious disinterest, his obsession begins..

a/n: here's part 2, i thought it would take 3 posts to post this chapter but it seems its about to take four smh. more content for u guys tho!! woot woot!! happy reading

ch. 1 , ch. 2 [ part 1 | part 2 ] , ch. 3 , ch. 4 , chapter 5 [ part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 ]

Shoko sat her down in front of a vanity.

“Alright, now that hair is done we can do makeup.”

Ara stared as Shoko opened all the drawers of the extravagant vanity before her, revealing a countless amount of high-end makeup. Most of it barely touched.

“Shoko!!” a girl yelled from downstairs.

“What!” Shoko yelled back only for silence to follow.

She rolled her eyes as she mumbled to herself, “What does Arden want now,” she gestured toward the makeup, “Knock yourself out, I’ll be back.”

“Wait—“

Shoko turned around, eyes alert.

Ara hesitated before admitting, “I don’t know how to do my makeup.”

Her eyes widened, “Forreal?” She then crossed her arms, “Actually I can’t even blame you, I only started doing my makeup like a year ago.”

“Would your Mom do it for you?” she asked, considering the fact that the vanity before them was hers.

“Nah, I had a makeup artist.” Shoko appeared to be in thought before she said, “Hold on.”

She walked out of the room and yelled, “Anybody here good at makeup??!”

A ton of feminine voices arose, answering her. Ara wasn’t the least bit surprised since half of their school’s female population was here.

She heard Shoko yell something before peeking her head back in the room, “Alright, we got help for makeup. Do you want anything to drink?”

Ara hesitated. She’d told herself that she wouldn’t drink after the last party but—

“SHOKO!!”

“IM COMING IDIOT!” Shoko yelled back before saying, “I’ll be back.”

She left within a blink of an eye, only for someone else to enter the room a second later. Karina.

Ara stared as Karina walked closer, looking insanely perfect as usual. She also had a bottle of Pink Whitney in her hand.

She set the bottle down on the vanity, “You need help with your makeup?”

Ara waited for the random bout of laughter erupting from somewhere downstairs to pass before answering, “Yeah..”

“I got you,” she murmured before looking through the drawers for something. She seemed to find it and asked, “You already washed your face right?”

“Yes.”

Karina quietly applied the primer to her face before suddenly asking, “Why didn’t you come to my party that time?” she paused in her actions, “I was expecting you..”

Fuck. It’d been months, Ara had hoped she’d forgotten. Besides, that night had probably been one of the worst moments of her life. She wanted to laugh—to think all of it started simply because she wanted to go to her party.

“Yeahh, I wasn’t able to make it.” she muttered vaguely.

“Why?”

“I think I was too tired.” she lied.

“Hmm,” Karina picked up another product and swatched it on her wrist, “I see you got back with him.”

Ara glanced at her but was unable to gauge anything from her countenance, “I- I did.“

Suddenly Karina sighed, “Ugh, I don’t blame you. He eats pussy so damn good.”

Ara’s eyes widened as she continued, “And his dick-why'd it have to be so big? I miss it so damn bad sometimes.”

She shook her head, “Sorry, I probably shouldn’t be saying that to his girlfriend but—“ she paused, as if considering something, “He really does like you, y’know.” she muttered begrudgingly.

Ara had a lot to say but settled on, “What makes you say that?”

She paused, masking her hesitation by pretending to look extra focused while dabbing the beauty blender against her skin, “He doesn't answer my texts. Even when you guys broke up he didn’t.”

“You texted him?” Ara asked incredulously.

Karina blushed, “Well—yeah.”

Ara glanced away, she supposed that answered all of her questions.

She then added, as if guilty, “Well, you guys were obviously over then but-like-before we always used to hook up. Like, it didn’t matter who else he fucked he’d always come back to me.”

Ara thought she sensed an undercurrent of possessiveness until she cleared her throat, “But ever since you got into the picture.. he’s different, I guess.”

“Loyal, you mean.” Ara replied flatly.

Karina stopped using the beauty blender, “How’d you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Lock him down?”

Ara shifted in her seat, “..I honestly don’t know.”

Karina didn’t meet her eyes, merely playing with the concealer in her hand, “I mean.. I see it, you-” she cut herself off as if it hurt to admit, “you are pretty, in that black cat kinda way. I just- I’ve never seen him like that,” her voice faded out slightly, “He’s obsessed with you. I can see it in his face-“

“Trust, it’s not something you want.” she answered instinctively.

“Really?” she asked curiously, “Why not?”

She saw the thoughts brewing within Ara’s mind as she slowly asked, “Has he.. ever done anything.. that scared you?”

“Scared me?” she questioned before appearing to contemplate it, “No?-wait, there was this one time where he freaked me the fuck out cuz I thought I was home alone and he kept moving things around, making me think an intruder or some shit was in the house but-“ she rolled her eyes, “it was just him.”

Ara blinked. The scariest thing he’d done to her was show her he was capable of committing murder without a scratch, while she was talking about a prank.

Karina chuckled to herself, as if it were a fond memory before meeting her gaze, “How’d he scare you?” she asked lightly.

It was clear to Ara then, that Karina had gotten a different Gojo than she had. The side of Gojo she seemed to have was specifically curated just for her, apparently.

Ara tilted her head, deciding to say something partially true, “He scares me when he jokes about baby trapping me.”

Karina laughed before tilting her head back to pour her drink down her throat. She made a face as she wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

“Fuck, my lipstick-“ she quickly turned around, looking in the mirror to make sure it was right.

In the midst of re-applying some lip gloss, Karina asked, “Who went back to who?”

“Huh?”

“I mean after the breakup,” her voice wavered, as if aware she was prying but couldn’t help it, “Who went back to who. I can imagine him begging you to take him bac-“

“I went to him.”

“Oh?” she raised a brow before turning away from the mirror to look her in the eye.

Ara knew that the whole school knew she broke up with him. She didn’t know how but she assumed it had something to do with Gojo telling his friends or everyone catching onto his lingering stares and moody demeanor during their breakup.

Karina sighed, “you missed him didn’t you.”

“no.” Ara replied a little too fast.

Karina gave her a pointed look.

She suddenly glared, “No, you don’t understand.” her words came out sharp, “He’s not who everybody thinks he is. At all. I shouldn’t miss him, need him, or even think about him honestly but I-“

She placed her head down on the vanity before her. Her arms around her head covering her face, “I’m a mess.” she whispered.

Never in a million years would Karina ever think she’d want to console someone-especially her-and yet, she did. Something about her was oddly compelling, in a way she couldn’t understand but she almost… wanted to.

Karina found her hand resting on Ara’s shoulder, she honestly didn’t know how it got there.

“Look,” Karina spoke calmly, “I don’t know what’s going on with you two but.. i’m pretty sure it’s not illegal to like someone. Sure, issues happen and it feels like the end of the fucking world each time but we’re just in high school. Is it ever that deep?”

Ara wanted to laugh at how trivial she made high school sound. As if it were just a kids playground and not the sole stepping stone to her ideal future.

Karina couldn’t tell if she was truly hopeful or being sarcastic when she overheard her murmur, “High school.. just high school.”

Ara was squished between Shoko’s friends on the couch, whom she was slowly starting to recognize.

“Karina really popped off with your makeup,” Mina said, “I’m gonna need her to do mine next.”

Ara believed her, especially from the way she was staring. She smiled halfheartedly, “Thanks.”

“Ara!”

She turned her head to see where the voice was coming from. It was hard to focus with the music blasting, girls chatting and cameras flashing in every corner of the house, The scent of weed and expensive perfume hung in the air… and Ara-surprisingly-didn’t hate it.

“Yo,” A hand suddenly snapped in front of her. It was Shoko.

Ara liked the way she’d pin-straightened her short hair. It suited her, she could almost imagine how she would look when she was older.

“You need to stop lookin’ moody and be happy. Midterms are over.”

Ara raised a brow, “I’m not moody.”

“Yes, you are. You look like you want to kill someone.”

“What-“

“Oh my god!” Leah suddenly yelled before pointing at the tray before them, “Did you make those?”

Ara hadn’t noticed but it seemed a tray of ombré yellow-orange drinks in cute clear glasses was on the table now. The drinks were topped with ice, cherries and a piece of pineapple. It looked delicious.

“Duh, why do you think I was in the kitchen for so long?” Shoko then bent down to pick up a cup, gesturing that they all do the same.

Arden-who sat on the other side of her-took a sniff of the drink, “How much rum did you put in this?”

Shoko smiled, “Don’t worry about it.”

Arden laughed and Ara couldn’t help but stare at her. How could she tell from one sniff?

Leah stuffed a drink in her hands and Ara looked down at the glass, at her blurry reflection in the ice. She didn’t need to sniff to smell the pineapple and orange juice within the drink.

“What is this?” she asked.

Arden turned to look at her, as if in shock.

Mina chuckled, “It’s a Mai Tai.”

Leah randomly babbled, “Yeah, it’s actually the first drink I had when I was eight.”

“Wait-“ Shoko suddenly deadpanned, “This is your first time drinking this?”

Ara blinked, “..i haven’t drank it yet but, yes.”

“No way.” Arden gasped.

Shoko beamed, “I am so honored. I’ll make you more whenever you want it.”

Mina rolled her eyes, “It’s not that good.”

“Then why don’t you give it back-“

She stared down at the drink once more, tuning out their bickering until she blurted, “Am I gonna die?”

Arden was cracking up, maybe she was naive but she didn’t care. She’d made a vow to herself to never drink but.. she actually wanted to this time. And that scared her.

It scared her because she wasn’t the type to break her own promises. And yet, all she could think about was that blind happiness she felt the last time she was drunk. That comfortable lightness that took over her thoughts and body, letting her tongue run loose and her mind go bye bye.

It was nice, so nice. Until it wasn’t. Until her memories came b-

Suddenly Shoko’s hand was on her chin, “We’re all gonna die one day, right.”

“Cornball.” Mina joked.

Shoko stuck her tongue out before raising her glass towards them, “Shut up and drink.”

And they did. With a clink of glasses, her vow was broken.

There she is.

A grin split across his lips when he spotted her. His bright eyes looked her up and down before groaning internally. She wore a sleeveless maroon mini-dress that ended just a little under her hips. The dress was skin-tight, barely hanging onto her sensuous tits-which sat so fucking nicely cuz she was braless. Fuck. He loved when she was braless.

She was mid conversation, running a hand through her thick locks when he came up behind her.

“Hey sexy~” he smiled into her temple when he felt her jump. His arms instinctively went around her, his hands sliding up her waist-her ribs-about to cup her b–

She stopped his hands right at her underboobs, merely placing her hands over his and keeping them there. He whined slightly.

“Toru,” she admonished before turning around. She looked up at him with the sweetest of smiles, it was always so subtle-just a little curve to the right end of her pouty lips. God, he wanted to devour her.

She tilted her head, “You’re finally here.”

She looked more stunning up-close, if that was even possible. His hand went to her hips, drawing her closer. He hadn’t noticed her lips moving until she cupped his chin and shook his face-

“Satoru, can you hear me?”

He pretended to bite her fingers, chasing her hand away from his chin.

Her hands came to rest on his chest, “Can you stop checking me out and answer my question.”

He shook his head, smiling boyishly, “I can’t. You look too good. Too good.”

He licked his lips and she shoved him, laughing, “Shut up.”

He grabbed her by the hips again, tugging her close, “Never, never, never~” He buried his face into her neck making her giggle slightly.

She attempted to shove his shoulders as he began to nip at the crook in her neck, “Toru–”

“Let's find a room.”

She finally managed to push his shoulders back, “No.”

Her eyes searched his face as he pouted, “Why?”

“Cuz..” her gaze dropped from his eyes to his chest, then back up again, “not here.”

His pout deepened, “I missed you.”

Her eyes narrowed, but a tiny smile managed to find its way to her lips anyway, “Even though you saw me in school a few hours ago?”

He nodded, his white hair flopping slightly, “Too long.”

Her hands interlocked behind his neck, his mind going haywire when her chest pressed into him as she leaned closer. She tilted her head, “You just want to be in my skin.”

“I do. I do. I do. I do.”

She smiled lazily–as if she already knew. He leaned down to kiss her and she let him. His lips moved against hers while she stayed firm, kissing him back steadily–slowly. Always pacing him, wasn’t she? She broke the kiss, giving him one last peck before leaning back.

He leaned towards her, as if chasing her lips but she quickly placed her finger over his mouth.

“Noo.” she chided him as if he were a puppy.

He smirked before sighing, “Fine. Fine.”

He moved a piece of her hair behind her ear, “What was your question?”

“I asked what took you so long.”

“I went over to Suguru’s cuz they were pre-gaming at his,” He suddenly broke out into a smile, “Haibara broke his TV.”

Her eyes widened, “What–how?”

“He was flying the remote control helicopter and-BOOM! TV cracked. I think he hit the wrong button or something but I was dying.” He chuckled.

She shook her head, “Of course you were. How did Geto react?”

“Oh he was mad. Haibara said sorry a million times but I know he’s still mad.”

“Hmm,” she hummed, “He probably needs a drink.”

He grinned, “Forsure,” He slipped his hand into hers, “Let's go bother him.”

She smiled faintly, “Lets.”

“So that's why-“ Suguru suddenly cut himself off when the song switched, his gaze cut to Satoru.

Satoru's eyes widened before backing up a bit to dance slightly, “Yoo this song.”

Satoru began to get a bit of a groove on while Geto nodded his head in sync with the beat. Ara glanced around to see others on the patio doing the same–dancing.

Suddenly Satoru took her wrist, tugging her towards himself, “Dance with me, Ara.”

She tilted her face up to meet his eyes, “No way.”

Just as she stepped away he pulled her back. His arms slipping around her waist, “C’monnn~”

“i can’t dance—like at all.”

“Who cares,” he whined, “just dance.”

She stepped away from him, raising her hands, “That’s all you, buddy.”

“C’monn, don’t do this to me!” he pouted as she walked off.

The music thumped around them as people hollered the lyrics.

Mina lowered the mascara wand and held onto the sink, “Goddamn, the whole house is shaking,” she sucked her teeth, “Can’t a girl fix her mascara in peace.”

Ara ran a hand through her hair, removing a random piece of glitter with a frown.

“Should we get more shots?”

Ara glanced over to see Mina looking at her expectantly.

It didn’t sound like a bad idea.. Ara smiled somewhat shyly, “Sure.”

Mina’s face brightened, “Bet. Let's go.”

The girls giggled as they ran out of the bathroom.

Shoko was dancing in front of her, singing the lyrics word for word. Her hands on Ara’s shoulders as they moved with the beat. Arden, Leah and Mina surrounded them. The patio was so crowded it seemed like everyone was outside.

“Somebody come get herrr,” everyone sang along, “She dancing like a stripper.” (a/n: song - come get her by rae sremmurd)

Ara swayed her hips, unaware of the bottle getting passed around until Shoko made a mischievous expression. Ara noticed her arm was raised and glanced up, only to see a bottle getting tilted over her.

Ara instinctively tilt her head back, opening her mouth to take in the liquor. She felt some of it trickle past her lips as Shoko jumped along to the music.

Everyone sang the lines, “somebody come get herr, she’s feelin’ all the liquor.”

Gojo was mid-conversation when a tiny bundle bustled into him and sat on his lap. He glanced over to see Ara.

“Ara.” he stated in surprise before giving her a onceover. She looked flushed. Her thick hair was wavier-probably due to the humidity-and her eye makeup had smudged slightly, making the color of her eyes pop. His eyes dropped down to her freshly coated, glossy lips.

Goddamn. He placed his hand low on her stomach as she leaned her head against his slightly, “Hey.”

He smirked, “Hey.”

“Hey.” Choso interjected flatly.

He’d completely forgotten Choso was there. Ara’s eyes brightened as she greeted, “Choso!”

Choso froze-as if starstruck, “H-hello.”

She moved as if to give him a hug but Gojo used his hand on her stomach to keep her close. He raised a brow in surprise, she was not a hugger and he didn’t want her to start being one now.

A soft laugh left him, “Are you drunk?”

She blinked, “No.” She looked between him and Choso before adding, “I just want to sit.”

Gojo smiled subtly, “‘Kay.” He kissed her temple before facing Choso, “What were you saying?”

“Right, so…” and they drifted off into a conversation that Ara could care less about. She truly did need to sit. Her legs hurt from all that dancing. Damn heels.

She shifted on his lap and shifted again, trying to sit comfortably until his hand tightened around her side. “Ara-” he murmured but it was too late, she’d already discovered his hard-on. Her ass was directly on it.

“Right?” Choso suddenly asked.

Gojo blinked, “Uh-yeah.” Not having a damn clue what he was agreeing to.

“Exactly so..” Choso went on.

Gojo had completely lost interest in the conversation when a fierce blush appeared on her cheeks. She’d gone completely still, except for her hand on his knee. Her fingers seemed to flit slightly.

“-I’m telling you, seeing him live is different,” Choso sighed before asking, “Do you think you're gonna go this year?”

“This year..” Gojo faintly repeated the last words he heard, attempting to focus, “It depends..”

“Oh but listen the third time I saw him it was crazy cuz—“

Suddenly her ass-ever so subtly-pressed against his erection, making his eyes widen. He glanced down at her, only then noticing that her hand had tightened around his knee. It was dark enough in the room that no one could see her rubbing her ass against him, especially with how slow she was moving.

His mouth parted in shock, almost wishing the flickering lights could hit them so he could see her ass move on him. He quickly closed his mouth before Choso noticed, he honestly didn’t know how the guy was still going.

He grit his teeth, trying not to groan as her ass cheeks grinded on him. The way her ass pressed against his length was something else—it was only making him stiffer by the second.

She felt so soft against his cock, moving at that agnizing pace.. The last thing he wanted to do was be still, he was gonna lose it.

He wanted to see her face but she wasn’t facing him. He bit his lower lip, hiding his grin. Fuck—he didn’t know she could be like this.

Her ass started to slowly move up and down and he nearly lost it. He hissed, his fingers digging into her hip-but she didn’t stop.

His arms slipped around her torso, tugging her against him as he spoke into her hair-breathless, “Ara..”

She finally faced him, her eyes radiating with mischief.

Oh that’s it. He didn’t have to think when he scooped her up in his arms and stood.

Choso raised a brow, midst speech, “Yo?”

Gojo didn’t spare him a glance, “I’ll be back.”

“Satoru!” she shrieked as she was tossed onto the bed.

He climbed atop her and her hands loosely cupped his neck, “Satoruu..” she whined while shaking her head, “What are you doing? I was just playing.”

“I know, cupcake,” he leaned down to press a heady kiss to her lips. The kind of kiss that rushed through her veins, making her body liquify with fervor until her cloudy thoughts grew clear–crystalizing his want, his need.

He broke the kiss, leaving a string of saliva between them until he spoke, “I know,” He looked her up and down, “But I don’t wanna play anymore.”

His hand ran down her side, “I wanna have all of you,” He nipped the end of her jaw, “Here, now.”

“Toru..” she whined softly. Her head was spinning. She was too drunk to move on her own. Her fingers twitched over his neck, “Toru, we can’t.. not here.”

“Yes here.”

“Toru-

He easily hoisted her legs over his shoulders, sliding her further up the bed. He then pulled the bottom of her dress up to her waist. The second he glanced between her legs, he groaned. He never got tired of the sight of her cunt adorned in lace panties. It was like a gift wrapped just for him.

She cupped his face, tugging him closer, “Toru please-” Why’d she have to sound so sweet and needy? “Please.. Not here,” She searched his face, “Home, only at home.”

He stared into her dazed eyes for a moment before groaning. He pressed his forehead into hers, “Kitten you can’t just wear this sexy lil dress, grind on me and expect me not to fuck the shit outta you,” He shook his head, “S’not fair.”

His hand slid up her side, hooking under the fabric of her dress to tug it lower–until her chest spilled out the top, “Where’d you learn how to move like that anyway..”

His eyes drank in the sight of her bare tits before meeting her gaze, “You do that to anyone else?”

Color rose to her cheeks as she stared up at him in silence.

She cried out when he began to grind himself against her cunt. She could feel every inch of him–how hard he was. Each stroke against her fast and purposeful, ringing with desperation.

His forehead pressed into her temple, forcing her face aside as he panted, “Answer me.”

She mewled as his grinding picked up, “N-no-ngh! you know this–I’ve never been with an-anyone bu-unnhh-but you.”

He smirked against her cheek before slightly raising his head. His smirk was handsome enough to make her forget how to breathe. It didn’t help that his vibrant eyes seemed to simmer with lust. He knew the answer; he just liked to hear her say it.

He slowed his hips down to drop his face into her neck. His lips instantly finding that sweet spot in the crook of her shoulder and nipped at it. He licked up the dessert-like, mocha perfume on her skin–fuck, he couldn’t get enough. He tasted makeup as well. It seemed Shoko had covered his baby’s love bites. How dare she..

Suddenly the corner of his lip curled deviously. I’ll just decorate her all over again.

He tilted his head, allowing his lips and teeth to mark her as he pleased. His fingers sank into her tits as he palmed her areola, urging her cute perky nipples out. She was moaning and whining so sweetly underneath him—god, he needed to fuck her bad.

“T-toru, not now,” she whimpered, inadvertently rubbing her cunt against his bulge as she churned underneath him.

He groaned into her neck. The pressure of her rowdy hips against his clothed cock—Oh, she had to be dying for it.

“Please-not here. Only at home, Toru, at home.” she whined, her small hands pushing at his chest uselessly.

Suddenly he drew his face back-his voice completely haggard, “Fine, fine. At home.”

His bedazzling eyes fixed themselves on hers, “I’ll have all of you at home..but.. you have to let me do one thing here.”

She spoke through uneven breaths, “W-what is it?”

His eyes lingered on the way her tits moved with each ragged inhale. He felt himself grow tighter inside his pants. Fuck, he really wanted take all of her here.

His eyes swam with lust and mischief as he leaned into her, his cock pressing against her warm cunt, “I wanna taste you.”

“Where’s Gojo?” Toji asked over the blaring music. “He’ll def wanna go. He loves that shit.”

Nanami shrugged.

He glanced over and punched Geto’s shoulder, “yo-you know where he is?”

“Who?”

“Your boyfriend, who else.”

Geto was about to make a snarky retort only to hesitate when he realized he truly didn’t know where he’d gone.

“What are you looking so confused for?” Shoko sauntered before them, joint in hand.

“You know where Gojo is?” Toji asked.

“Satoru? He’s busy.”

Geto raised a brow, “With what?”

“You didn’t see him throw Ara on his shoulder? He took her upstairs,” she took a hit from her joint, shaking her head, “Thank God it's not my house.”

“Damn, already?” Toji grinned, “Can’t blame him though, did ya see her dress?”

Nanami instantly glared at him, “Stop that.”

She was lost. Lost in the abyss of pleasure that made her lose any and all sense—if she had any in the first place. His tongue was so unfair.

The tip of his tongue flicked her clit–making her jerk as she moaned. His hands on her spread thighs the only thing keeping her legs open and body semi-still.

She threw her head back, breathless, as she shook her head side to side, “Satoru.. Satoru!”

His tongue was suddenly gone, his lips still on her most sensitive part. He backed away slightly, lightly kissing her throbbing clit, “You close, kitten?”

Her body twitched, “Toru–stop, stop teasing me.”

Even through her drunkenness she could hear how helpless she sounded. He always knew how to make her so weak.

He chuckled, the faint exhale against her cunt making her inner thighs tremble. She could feel the sensation of her orgasm suspended within her, waiting to spill given the right touch. His touch.

He stared up at her, his eyes gleaming with hunger and a tinge of that typical demeaning playfulness. But she knew he was far from unaffected by this–if anything, playing with her always seemed to get him on to a different degree.

“That’s how it feels like, kitten,” he blew on her tense nub, making her twitch once-more.

“Toru!” she cried.

“--that’s how it feels when you put this pretty pussy on me and tell me not to fuck you.”

His lips found her clit again, sucking it oh so delicately—not nearly enough friction as she needed. She whined helplessly.

He lightly kissed her clit once more, “You wanna cum, kitten?”

She was too out of it to respond. His fingers dug into her soft thighs, making her gasp.

“Let me fuck you here,” his voice was low and eager, desperate, “ ‘Kay?”

She squeezed her eyelids shut, her bent legs wavering in the air. “Toru.. I can’t–can’t think-”

He chuckled faintly, “Then don’t, my sweet, don’t.” His lips were terribly close to her nub again, “I’ll think for you.”

He was instantly lapping her clit up—the pace so consistent that she was easily driven insane. Her breath hitched and suddenly his mouth cupped her clit just right, his tongue probing her most reactive spot.

She cried out as her body bucked. She didn’t see the amount of liquid she squirted out but she felt it pour out of her. The feeling of euphoria that pulsed through her cunt made her thighs shake from its force. Her moan was so loud and defenseless, she couldn’t help but judge herself for how desperate she sounded.

His hands tightened around her thighs to keep her legs spread as he drank in the sight. He loved this–every single bit of her. Her shattered expression down to the taste of her silky juices. She always had so much to give him..

and he knew how to hunt it out of her.

His cock sank into her and he immediately groaned. Her cunt wrapped around him so viscerally tight. She was so fucking hot inside he might as well have dipped himself in warmed honey.

He couldn’t stand it–how perfect she was. Her arched body raised at the hips to let him press into her this deep. Her waist twisting as she lay face down, making the sexiest little sounds as her hands fisted the sheets. He needed all of her. Now.

He squeezed her ass before fucking her exactly the way he wanted to the second his eyes landed on her in that slutty little dress. Her pussy was only his to use and tear apart like this.

The squelching sound of his cock delivering fuck after fuck to her sweet core was music to his ears. He whimpered at the feeling of her walls gripping the sides of his cock like it craved his seed–like it needed him to stay inside.

He bent over her, keeping his forehead to the crown of her head as he gripped her waist. His hands large enough that his fingertips met on either side of her.

He didn’t stop–his cock bullying into her boundlessly.

“I’ll give you what you want, Ara..” his rugged voice trailed down her spine, “I’ll always give you what you want.”

He shoved his cock deep into her and she screamed. He buried his face into her nape as he emptied his balls within her. Cum spewing endlessly from his tip as it filled the condom to its brim. Pleasure consuming every cell in his body.

“Ara..” he groaned against her back, eyes squeezed shut as he retracted his hips slightly and shoved his cock back in. She cried out as he groaned again. His cock felt so fucking good inside her.

“Never have enough of you..” his low voice was filled with such unrestrained desire– “never.”

She gasped, loud enough to make his eyes flutter open.

He reached out, his arm easily wrapping around her waist before he shifted in bed to face her, “What is it?” he mumbled sleepily.

She glanced at him with wide eyes, “Sorr-”

Suddenly he snatched the phone from her hands, quickly turning over in bed so she couldn’t snatch it back if she tried.

His brows scrunched together, “Nails?” On her phone was a picture of hands, hands with very pretty detailed fake nails on Pinterest. He looked over at her, “You want these?”

She jumped over him, snatching the phone from his hand, “Yes, but I didn’t want to wake you up.”

His eyes widened when he felt her bare tits press into his chest as she partially laid over him. Her eyes widened a second later and she quickly turned over, taking majority of the sheets with her. Her back was facing him.

He grinned, scooting closer to her before tugging the blanket slightly, draping more of it over himself. He propped himself on an elbow before sliding his free hand under the sheets. He touched her waist before sliding his hand under her arm around her chest. He sighed when he felt her bare tits against his forearm.

He tugged her close and she squirmed slightly, “Toru-”

He kissed underneath her ear-where several hickeys remained, “Last night was fun.”

She blushed, “For you. I’m sore as hell right now.”

He grinned as she pushed at his arm, “I can’t believe you did that. I was drunk, y’know.”

“You said you weren’t-”

“You knew I was.”

He stuffed his face into her shoulder as his arm tightened around her, “It’s your fault tho, you tempted me.” he whined.

“I didn’t tempt you-”

“Grinding on me?”

She blushed furiously, “I was drunk.”

“You're so hot when you're drunk.”

She reached over and smacked his head at her shoulder. She felt him chuckle into her neck as he yelled, “aH!”

“Gojo I’m serious,” her voice wavered, “I’m really sore. It hurts. You should.. really let me be when I’m like that.”

He was still for a moment before rubbing her hip under the blanket, “I’m sorry, baby–kay? I’m sorry,” He raised his head to lightly kiss her cheek, “I’ll try to do better next time,” He kissed her jaw, “--even though it’s hard–” he lightly squeezed her ass, “--especially when you rub this cute ass on me.”

“Satoru–”

He buried his face into her shoulder again, his arm winding around her chest once-more, “I know, I know,”

She felt him sigh into her neck, “I can’t think when I wanna fuck you y’know. I jus have to be inside..”

She closed her eyes, “I know.”

“..it’s a miracle we even got home.” he mumbled to her neck.

“When did we get home?” Ara asked, suddenly curious since she didn’t remember a second of it.

“Around three. You were passed out by then.”

“Hmm..”

He kissed her shoulder, “You talked to Millie?”

Her eyes shot open, as if surprised–but he’d overheard Millie’s familiar voice when she’d gone to the bathroom earlier.

“Yeah, she called,” she muttered, “She wanted to know all the tea from last night.”

“She’s still grounded?”

She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, it’s killing her.”

He smiled slightly, “I bet it is.”

“Andd you’re all set.” The nail lady backed up with a smile.

Ara glanced down at her nails in shock. They looked just like the picture, maybe even better. She outstretched her fingers slightly, looking at both sides of her hands. She felt oddly… empowered. Despite it being the first time getting her nails done, she immediately saw the appeal.

She stood up, still staring at her nails, “Wow, these are… amazing, thank you.”

The nail lady’s smile widened, “Of course.”

She faltered at giving her a smile back before walking out of the beauty room–which she didn’t even know she had. She’d only been joking when she’d told Satoru she was too lazy to get out the house but it didn’t matter–he’d brought the nail salon to her. In mere minutes he was able to book an at-home session with a celebrity nail technician. It was baffling.

And yet, her stomach bubbled with excitement.. excitement that she inexplicably had to share. She walked into their bedroom, only to find no one there.

She walked further into the room, only to find the attached balcony doors open. He was leaning against the railing, talking on the phone. The closer she approached she noticed a few notebooks and his laptop open on one of the tables outside.

He ended the call, tossing his phone up in the air and catching it precariously before sauntering towards his books.

Just as he sat and leaned back in his chair, she asked, “You're studying?”

He immediately glanced up, his big blue eyes instantly brightening once they landed on her, “Ara!”

His eyes dropped to her hands and she quickly hid them behind herself with a small smile.

He squinted playfully, “Lemme seee-“

To his surprise she fast-walked over, holding out her hands for him to see, “Look-look, it looks just like the picture. The almond shape, colors, everything—“ he stared at her, mesmerized by the look of child-like fascination on her countenance as she continued, “I can’t believe it. She even made the stone on my middle finger smaller because I asked. It’s so sparkly too. And the butterfly??” she shook her head, smiling, “-insanity.”

She outstretched her new talons, her smile widening unknowingly, “I love them.”

He tugged her closer, despite her already standing in front of him. Her hand rested on his shoulder as she was drawn in between his long legs. His arms slipped around her waist as he stared up at her, “You love them, kitten?”

She nodded before glancing down at him, “What do you think?”

“I think I need to tip her well for making you smile like that.”

She rolled her eyes-blushing, “Stop flirting.”

“No really-“ he picked up her hand, finally looking at the nails for the first time, “If getting these little fingers dolled up makes my baby happy i’ll have her here every week.”

“Not every week. They’re supposed to last two to three weeks.” she informed him.

“Hmm,” His thumb suddenly brushed the skin underneath the knuckle of her ring finger. His blue eyes flashed with something before he met her gaze with a smirk, “Can’t wait to put something here.”

She snatched her hand away, “You’re so annoying.”

His smirk widened, “You’d love it if I proposed-”

“I’d literally reject you.”

“WHAT?!—you would?”

“I would.”

“Whyyyy~you meanie. Do you even care about me.” he pouted.

Suddenly her hands slid into his hair and she was kissing him. The rest of his whines swept up by her tongue as she bent over him, deepening the kiss invasively. Her nails raked through his thick, white hair as she tugged his face close as if she needed him closer. He nearly groaned.

She broke the kiss, her thumb brushing over his bottom lip as she asked, “Still think I don't care?”

His eyes widened at her quietly spoken words. The flush that bloomed across his cheeks couldn’t be helped. For once, he was speechless.

He held her gaze for a short moment before leaning towards her. Before his lips could connect with hers, she scurried off of him—backing up several steps.

“No, no, no, satoru. You need to study and so do I.”

He was already whining again, “Whyyy~”

“Because,” she shrugged as she walked backwards, “we have to.”

He stood up and she immediately bolted inside the house. He chased after her, giggles and laughter following their wake.

She stared up at the stars and he stared at her. He wondered if she had a morsel of a clue of how much she meant to him.

Loving her was easy for him, as easy as breathing, as easy as the sharp exhale that escaped him when she first turned her back on him.

Sure, it started as a challenge then. A game that only she and him could understand but, he saw her now. He knew why she was the way she was and he liked it. all of it.

He learned her skin, her mind, her voice, her loneliness and he wanted all of it. all of it for himself.

She didn’t know how much he loved her unpredictably. her brattiness, her anger, her kindness, her tears. She gave him her everything and he’d take it every time. It didn’t matter where they were, what universe they were in, he’d find her. He’d always find her.

She turned her head on the grass and looked at him, “Are you even looking at the stars?”

“I am.”

He saw her freeze for a moment. He anticipated her witty response, something like ‘how many times have you used that line’ or ‘aren’t you smooth’ but she held his gaze.

He saw her look between his eyes before her gaze dropped to his lips. He watched as she slowly drew herself up next to him, balancing herself on one elbow as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

He forced himself to stay still, despite his heart racing in anticipation. His eyes stayed on her as her hand came to rest on his cheek, his jaw. She gently pressed her lips to his and he nearly groaned. His hand slid up her side, squeezing her ribs as he tilted his face up–craving more of her.

Her hand on his jaw held him back, instead she lowered herself into him. Her lips prolonging the tenderness of the kiss before she backed away. He closed his eyes, refraining from chasing her lips.

He felt her fingers on his panting lips and opened his eyes. She was completely expressionless–which only made him more keen on knowing her thoughts.

“What do you want to be?” she suddenly asked, before adding, “-when you grow up.”

She expected an unserious response at first-maybe even something flirty. Something like ‘your husband’ or ‘a garbage man’ but-for once-he answered seriously.

He appeared contemplative, “I haven’t decided. I already got an offer from the NBA but I don’t know if I like basketball that much.”

He readjusted his head on his crossed arms, “Obviously, Coach is pushing for that but.. I think following my father’s footsteps would be more interesting.”

He glanced over at her, a small smile spreading across his lips, “As basic as it sounds.”

“Director of National Intelligence.” she stated, “For the US.”

“Yes.” he confirmed, while looking at her curiously. He couldn’t tell how she felt about that.

“Would that make you a politician?”

“Mmm, kind of? I’d obviously have to be a part of the same political party as the president in order to be recommended by him.”

“What else do you have to do?”

“Well, it varies. Some directors have military experience or climb in government service. Some have law degrees or extensive experience in intelligence agencies.”

“Intelligence agencies? Like the FBI?”

“Well, yes and no. It’s more the CIA and NSA-” at her look of confusion, he clarified, “National Security Agency-is experience that they might prefer but I have considered the FBI. It would be different from my Father’s past position but I wouldn’t mind dealing with domestic policy–well, they’re still involved in foreign intelligence threats but-”

He grinned, “Director of the FBI sounds hot doesn’t it?”

She rolled her eyes, “Of course you would say that.”

“It’s that or CEO of Gojo Industries.”

She blinked, having completely forgotten that. She assumed that was the main source of his family’s income. Long ago, another genius in his family found a more efficient way of processing crude oil, which later resulted in the creation of their family’s multi-industry company. Gojo industries is responsible for more than half of the world’s refineries. Despite being widespread on foreign level, they are still a private company.

She blinked in astonishment, “Well, what's stopping you from that?”

“Nothings stopping me but I feel like business is kinda boring,” he shrugged, “I’ll probably have to deal with that regardless.”

“You will?”

“Well I don’t have any siblings, do I?” He smiled slightly, “I guess I could just hire someone but I still wanna be involved, probably as chairman or something but good thing that’s a later problem.”

He poked her cheek, “What about you, kitten? What do you wanna be?”

“... a doctor.”

He squinted at her hesitance, “Do you really?”

She sighed, “No, it’s what my Dad wants me to be. I was kinda set on it but..”

The corner of his lip twitched slightly, “Never mind him, what do you want to be?”

She paused before saying-rather softly, “An artist.”

“Forreal?”

She nodded.

His face instantly brightened, “Can you draw me?”

“No.”

She skeptically watched him pretend to be in pain before adding, “You’re too ugly to draw.”

He immediately cut the act, “Now you're just lying.”

Ara stepped inside the Rolls Royce, closing the door after herself.

Ijichi popped his head from the driver’s seat, a warm smile on his lips, “Hello, Miss Ara.”

She opened her mouth-ready to tell him for the millionth time that he could simply call her Ara but she decided to let it be. At least he hadn’t stepped out and opened the car door for her. He was learning.

She offered him a small smile in return.

She stared out of the car window, watching the other students buzz about until the car began to move.

“Are you okay, Miss?”

Her eyes flitted to the rear view mirror, meeting Ijichi’s concerned expression.

“Y-you seem.. unlike yourself.”

She supposed that was the nicest way he could say she looked off—which she’d been feeling like the whole day.

“Ijichi, can you do me a favor?”

He adjusted his glasses, “Yes?”

“Can you take me home?”

“I am taking you home, Miss.”

“I mean- my Dad’s home?”

“Of course.”

She stared at the house outside the car window. It should’ve felt familiar but it felt... indescribable really.

Ijichi glanced back at her, unsure of what to do since they’d been sitting out here for a good minute.

He looked between her and the house, “Would you like me to accompany you inside?” he offered unsurely.

“No!” she quickly cut herself off before running a hand through her hair, forcing herself to breathe.

“No,” she repeated, more calmly, “it’s fine. I just.. can we wait a few more minutes?”

It was silent for a beat before he answered, “Of course, miss.”

She could only imagine how confused he was right now but he d—suddenly the front door of the house opened and she immediately straightened in her seat. Thank god the windows were blacked out.

Her Dad stepped out. He was balancing himself on one crutch and there were less bandages on his face. His hair was clean-cut short and he was wearing pajamas-a matching set-something about that made her want to smile.

She watched him half-limp, half-walk towards the mailbox. He hastily pulled it open and grabbed the mail. He eyed it warily, rubbing his scruff as he did so before making his way back inside.

She waited until he closed the door behind himself to speak.

“We can go now, Ijichi.”

A low, soft moan left her until she realized there were lips on hers. Her eyes fluttered open to find Satoru in bed beside her.

“You’re back.”

He smiled subtly, his hand on her clavicle gently pushing her back down—“Yeah.”

Her eyes darted to the clock only for him to catch her chin, refocusing her attention on him.

“You took a nap?” he inquired softly.

“Yeah,” she closed her eyes, sighing when she felt him kiss her cheek, “dunno why.”

She blindly reached out to rest her hand on his chest, “How was practice?”

“S’good,” he slipped his arm underneath her head, sidling up next to her under the sheets, “would’ve been better if I was here with you instead.”

She smiled slightly, still sleepy enough to not want to open her eyes. She felt his long fingers tap her abdomen.

“Ara?”

“Mhm..”

A short silence ensued before he asked, “Why’d you go to your Dad’s house?”

Her eyes flew open to find him staring right at her, not one readable emotion on his face.

“I just.. wanted to see how he was doing.”

“Why?”

For some reason, she struggled to answer that. She thought it was obvious but maybe it wasn’t—to him.

“He’s my Dad.” was all she managed to say.

He was silent for another moment, it was so unlike him that she couldn’t help but get nervous.

“Do you miss him?” he suddenly asked, an odd undercurrent to his tone.

She quietly observed him. His floppy white hair, pale matte skin, long light lashes, spark-less blue eyes, the solemn set to his lips. Something about him seemed poised in a way that seemed to await her answer.

She couldn’t tell what was going on with him and maybe that should’ve scared her but..

She flattened her palm against his chest, “Are you mad at me?”

His eyes seemed to widen slightly before he blazed with color. He averted her gaze, “No.”

She touched his jaw, “Then why does it feel like it?”

He met her eyes, “It’s not—well,” He subtly shook his head, “I don’t like him, your Dad. I don’t like him at all.”

“Neither do I.”

His hand on her stomach slid around her side, drawing her closer, “You can’t live with him,” it was a demand but his voice wavered, his eyes pleading, “I don’t want you to.”

She stared up at him, her throat feeling oddly obstructed, “I don’t want to.”

“No?” he didn’t give her much time to respond, instead suddenly turning himself atop her. The tip of his nose brushing hers, “Good, cause..”

His vivid eyes didn’t leave hers, “I can’t let you leave.”

“You can’t?”

He shook his head, sliding his fingers through hers.

“Whyyyyy are you guys so boring,” Gojo whined.

“Stop yapping, Satoru.” Geto muttered, barely glancing up from his notebook.

Suddenly Ara felt something light knock into her temple and spotted a paper plane on the floor beside her seat. She glanced over to see Satoru staring at her across the table, a wide grin on his lips.

She kicked his seat, “Don’t bug me.”

Just as she faced her textbook again, he threw his arms up and flung back in seat.

“You guys studied yesterdayyy~” he whined.

A second before the paper plane hit his chin he caught it. His grin widened as he met Ara’s narrowed eyes.

“Just because you don’t have to study doesn’t mean everyone else doesn’t have to.”

“Don’t be jealous, baby.”

“No one is jealous.”

“You sure?”

Geto set his pen down, “I'm two seconds away from kicking you both out this study room.”

“Okay nerd.”

She straightened in her seat, “It’s not my fault! He’s distracting me.”

Geto glared at Satoru, “I’m about to kick you out.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

Geto stood up and Ara’s eyes widened. Everything that happened next was a blur.

One second Geto’s hands were at Gojo’s collar then the next Geto was face first on the floor. The boys were kicking and hollering at each other, horse playing on the floor.

Ara slammed her textbook shut, easily gathering her things as she stood up.

“I’m out.” She closed the study room door behind her.

“Ara! Help me! Get this ape off me!” Gojo yelled.

She heard several camera snaps and turned around.

She attempted to smack the phone out of his hand but he easily raised it out of her reach.

“Why are you taking pics of me?” she demanded.

He smiled, his arms still upraised as he swiped through the pictures, “Because my kitten looks so pretty.”

“You see?” He said before placing the phone right up to her face.

It was.. admittedly a good picture. It was her from the back, staring off at the amusement park they’d just entered. Her silhouette looked good in her Miu Miu mini skirt and knee-length Naked Wolfe platform boots.

He snatched the phone back before she could even think to grab it from him. He was grinning to himself, swiping through the pictures once more.

“It’s good, right? You look so good.”

She sighed, tugging at his sleeve, “Toru, seriously. We got to. Shoko’s waiting for us.”

“Hold on, hold on. Let me make this my lockscreen.”

She glanced up when she heard him whistle.

He was shaking Geto’s shoulder playfully before tossing his golf stick in the air–somehow making it land upright in the ground.

He glanced in her direction and jogged over, “Baby did you see my shot? It was such a good shot.”

She lowered her phone in her lap, “No.”

“Aww.” he plopped into the seat beside her, “I told you to watch mee~”

“You are such a kid.”

Suddenly he snatched the phone out of her hand, “Who are we texting?”

She tried to reach for her phone, “I’m not texting anybody-!”

He easily caught both her wrists in one hand and held up her phone in the other, “Ooo you looking at jewelry, baby?”

He swiped down to see her cart. It was all Van Cleef & Arpels–ranging from earrings, rings and dainty bracelets. It was all wildly out of her price range but it wasn’t like she was planning on buying it, she just liked to get inspiration.

“This is a nice bracelet,” he noted.

She glanced down to see the picture, “I know right.”

“I can’t wait to see it on your wrist.” he smirked.

Her eyes widened as she watched him go through with the cart, inputting his credit card details by memory.

“What are–”

“Sh, Sh, Sh-”

“Toru, wait-” but it was too late. The confirmation page of the order was already up on her phone, along with pending delivery details. She couldn’t believe it. Even though she hadn’t added too many jewelry pieces to her cart she knew the total had been about 75k. And he’d just purchased it all.

He handed the phone back to her as she gaped.

“What the fuck..” she muttered, shell-shocked.

He kissed her cheek.

She glanced up at him, “What did you do that for?”

“For you.”

“Satoru, you're up!” Geto called.

He placed a deft kiss on her lips before standing and jogging over to Geto, leaving her stunned in silence.

She squirmed, “Toru, please– I’m still sore.”

He loosened his grip, sighing as he cupped her tits. “This bikini looks too good kitten.”

She pushed his hands away, quickly covering her chest as she swam further into the pool. It was admittedly a very sexy bikini set, the first of its kind that she’d ever worn. She felt very naked.

She turned around, “This is why I don’t like wearing what you want. You just want me naked all the time.”

“I do.”

She splashed him with water, making him laugh.

He swam towards her suddenly, splashing her with thrice the amount of water. She yelled, quickly attempting to swim away only to get cornered.

“Okay, okay! That's enough you fool!”

He quickly popped up from the water, closing in on her, “Quitting already?”

She didn’t hesitate in hitting him with a fierce splash but he quickly dodged it. Suddenly she was chasing him around the pool, sending splash after splash after him. He cackled as he attempted to dodge the bombardment of water.

She kept missing him, only to jump to get some distance on him. She jumped atop his back, nearly making him topple into the water–only for his athlete instincts to kick in and easily make him balanced.

“Ara-” he laughed, turning his face aside as she used her spare arm to splash water in his face. Her other arm wound tightly around his shoulders.

He slipped his arms under her legs around his waist, hoisting her higher on his back. “Hold on tight!”

She didn’t have a second to register his words because he was already swimming. He was swimming so fast she nearly screamed. She clutched his back, feeling his back muscles move against her chest. She felt like she was on a jet boat.

Finally he stopped, holding her knees up once more as he straightened.

“How was that?” he questioned, a bright smile on his face.

At her silence he glanced behind himself, “Ara?”

She dropped her face to his back, “I… I’m dizzy.”

He used his arm under her leg to swiftly maneuver her body in front of himself. His arms slipped around her bum, keeping her legs around his waist.

He rubbed her back, tilting his head, “You okay?”

She blinked several times, “Yeah.” her voice revealed something a bit unsure.

He swam towards the poolside, slipping his hands into the dip of her waist before placing her atop the marble floor. Her legs still dipped in the water.

She ran a hand through her wet hair as she breathed, “I’m fine.” she mumbled.

His eyes were alert, “Sorry.”

“No you’re not.”

A grin split across his lips.

She reached over to splash him with water again but he caught her wrist. She attempted to do the same with her other hand but he caught that one too.

“Ugh!” she grunted in frustration only for him to lean over and peck her lips.

“You’re so cute.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Don’t make me blush baby.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

His eyes widened, along with his grin, “Ah? Do that again.”

She sharply turned her face aside, “Shut up.”

He chuckled once more, finally releasing her wrists, “Ara..”

Just as she crossed her arms, his index and middle finger turned her chin his way, “I have something to ask you.”

“What now.”

He tilted his head, his bright eyes flickering up and down her face. She thought she saw his adam’s apple bob in his neck.

“So.. SATs are coming up.”

She raised a brow, “And?”

“And college applications are due soon so.. I wanna know your top choice.”

“Top choice?”

“Top choice for university.”

She eyed the faint blush on his cheeks, “Why?”

His hands rested atop the poolside as he drew closer, “I want us to go to college together.”

She tensed.

His intricate eyes scanned her face, unable to read her fixed expression.

“Kitten?” he asked.

She finally moved, her eyes darting up to his. “Are you sure?”

“What?” he asked, completely flabbergasted, “Of course I’m sure.”

He cupped her chin, “You think I can live without you?”

She turned her face a second before he could even think to kiss her.

His nose trailed her cheekbone, “You don’t want to?” he questioned.

She closed her eyes, “I do but.. can we not go far?”

His hand cupped her neck, tilting her face back up, “ ‘course kitten. Stanford then?”

A light laugh slipped out of her, “I know I can get in but can you?”

A grin spread across his lips, “You think you're better than me cuz you're valedictorian?”

“I know I’m better than you.”

His grin widened, “True, but have you checked the ranks?”

“I checked last week.”

“How about this week?”

“No but..” her eyes widened, “Are you saying you’re first again?”

He shrugged.

She shoved him, “Tell me!”

He laughed, loving every second of this, “Maybe.”

“Maybe?!” she barked, “Ugh, give it a week. Once my calc exam is in you’ll be back in your place. Watch.”

Suddenly his arms slipped around her waist and he was burying his face in her neck.

She pushed at his arms, “Toru—“

Suddenly she was pinned to the floor, his hands holding hers down as he bent over her. His tall frame between her legs.

He tilted his head, “Why do you want to stay near here?”

Her eyes lingered on the water droplets falling from his abs before meeting his gaze. Her face flushed.

“Cuz… just cause.”

“Tell me.”

She stared up at him, trying not to get swallowed up whole by the brightness of his blue eyes.

She closed her eyes, “Cuz I want to be near my Dad, okay?”

His jaw clenched as his eyes raked down her body, “You can go to any university in the world.. and that’s what you're gonna choose by?”

Her eyes fluttered open, her expression somewhat somber.

“He doesn’t care y’know.”

Her brows furrowed slightly but he continued anyway, “Does he really matter that much to you?”

“He’s the only family I have.” she answered curtly.

“So? He beat the shit outta you.”

Her expression twisted and she attempted to release herself from his hands pinning hers, “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“I don’t want you to make another decision based on someone who doesn’t care about you. I care about you. I want the best for you-”

She twisted underneath him, “Toru, let go of me—“

He bent lower over her, “Listen to me.”

She froze, her breath incredibly shaky.

“I am listening. You want to know my top choice? Anything in fucking California. That’s what I want, okay? If you don’t like it then go somewhere else.”

“Go somewhere else?” he repeated quietly.

She swallowed, unable to find any words.

“Without you?” he pressed.

Her heart raced in her chest, “N—no.”

“Hmm,” he hummed approvingly before running a hand down her side, “That’s what I thought.”

“Stanford?” Geto questioned on the other end of the line.

“Yeah Stanford.”

“Why?”

“Cuz,” he hadn’t really thought this through, “Stanford’s.. nice.”

Geto scoffed, “Nice? That’s it?”

“Yes?”

“You couldn’t decide what college you wanted to go for the past two years but suddenly you wake up and decide that Stanford is nice?”

Before he even had the chance to respond, Geto asked, “Does Ara have something to do with this?”

Gojo couldn’t help but chuckle, “Maybe~”

Geto sighed.

“Gojo!” she whined as he lifted her up from the couch. “Gojo, put me down!”

He smacked her ass over his shoulder, “Nah.”

“Gojo!” she yelled while attempting to kick her feet but his other arm quickly held her legs down.

He playfully bit her hip as he walked, “Don’t whine kitten.”

She attempted to twist herself away but it was impossible, “Satoru seriously— I want to finish the movie!”

“Then you shouldn’t have kissed me.”

“You kissed me.”

He merely shook his head, “Tsk, tsk, tsk.”

Her small fists hit his back and he laughed.

Just as he opened their bedroom door, she raised her head. Her eyes landed on the maid down the hallway, staring right at her. A slight blush on her face.

Before Ara could even think of feeling embarrassed Gojo kicked the door closed behind them.

“Satoru?”

“Hm?” he glanced up from his phone. He was rather comfortable, lounging on one of the several patio chairs.

Ara rubbed the back of her neck as she approached him, “Um.. you remember how i’m supposed to go shopping with Mils today?”

He tossed his phone onto the empty seat beside him and straightened.

“The shopping spree you rudely refuse to let me join? Yes.”

She stood before him, “Baby I need some girl time.”

He pouted, “I can be a girl?”

She cupped his chin and shook it, “Just because you're as pretty as one doesn’t mean you can be one.”

His eyes brightened, “I’m pretty?”

She shoved his face away but he quickly faced her again—a devious grin on his lips.

His white brows wriggled, “Are you gonna talk about me?”

She squinted, “No, why would I talk about trash.”

His arms slipped around her, tugging her close as he rested his chin atop her bosom.

“Meanie~”

Suddenly she was flipped into his arms, fully laying on his lap. She gasped.

He nuzzled her hair before tilting his head to drop a kiss on her lips. Just as his lips connected with hers she gently cupped his chin, pacing him. He pecked her, his eyes fluttering open to peek at her face as she kissed him back. He pecked her again and grinned when he felt her breath hitch.

Just as he drew closer to deepen the kiss, her fingers slipped into his hair–pulling him back.

“Wait–toru, wait–” she fought to catch her breath, “I have to go.”

He whined, “Right now?”

She nodded, “Yeah, Ijichi’s waiting outside but I need your help.”

“What do you need?”

She hesitated a second before admitting, “I-um, I want to shop but I.. I don’t have any money.”

It was true. She’d left the spare cash she had at her Dads and even if she did have the debit card her Dad had given her she wouldn’t feel comfortable using it.

His eyes widened, “Oh!”

He reached into his pocket, fishing out his Bottega Veneta wallet. He took out a credit card and gave it to her.

“Keep it.”

She stared blankly as he put it in her hand.

“It’s yours.” he added further.

She felt her face heat up, “I can give it back after—“

“I just said it’s yours, kitten. Buy whatever you want.”

She continued to stare at him and he stared back—only to cackle a second later.

“You can’t take anything normally huh?” he squeezed her cheek, “It’s always somethin’ new. Never a-” suddenly his voice turned saccharine, “‘Thank you, Toru’ ‘You're the best boyfriend ever, Toru-“

She quickly stood up from his lap, “I’m leaving.”

“Nooo~” he whined as he latched onto her, keeping her in his lap. He buried his face into her nape, “You can’t go yet.”

“Stop it-“

“Two minutes, just two minutes.”

“Toru!”

She jolted up from the bed, breathless. Her mouth felt terribly dry and her hands.. her hands were shaking.

She stared at her trembling fingers before registering.. I had a nightmare.

It’d been a terrible one at that, so terrible she wanted to scream at the top of her lungs. She could feel her scream stuck in her throat.

She blinked, trying to remember the details but the more she tried to think of it, the more it escaped her. She was grasping at straws but something within her felt an almost frantic pressure to remember. Something had happened, something bad-bad enough to feel real. She didn’t want to forget, she couldn’t—

Suddenly a hand slipped into the curve of her waist, “Ara?”

She glanced over to see Gojo propped on an arm behind her, his bright eyes nearly illuminating in the dark. His white hair tousled and disorderly from sleep.

She gently touched his face, her fingers pushing his soft silver-white hair back, “I’m okay.” she attempted to murmur only for her breathlessness to betray her.

His thin brows furrowed subtly, “Bad dream?”

She didn’t answer, merely moving to lay down underneath him, under the crook of his arm. His eyes followed her, never leaving her stoic face. They both knew it wasn’t the first time.

She avoided his gaze for a second, absentmindedly running her fingers over his collar bone before nodding.

He watched her flit about before lowering himself to press a gentle kiss on her forehead. Then another between her brows… on the bridge of her nose… the tip of her nose… then her lips.

Her lips quivered under his, making a heady rush hit his lower abdomen but he forced himself to think past it and be calm. He let his tongue sweep her mouth just once before breaking the kiss.

Her lips were swollen and parted. She was breathless all over again.

He searched her face, trying to find his focus but he didn’t need to when her hands suddenly slipped around his neck and they were kissing once more. It was sloppy, desperate and unexpectedly wanton in every degree.

Her nails dug into his scalp and kept him close. His hand found her tits, squeezing and groping needily. Fuck. He’d already had her tonight but hell he could never help himself when it came to her.

He meant to ask her about the nightmare, how they were coming a bit too often but– “Fuck,” he rasped out raggedly, breaking the kiss.

Her hand was wrapped around his cockhead, her thumb rubbing his tip before running up and down as much of his length she could reach. His hips bucked in response to her touch.

She never touched him there first, especially unprompted. If he ever wanted her to touch his cock he’d have to cup her tiny hand in his and guide her there.

She squeezed his cockhead, making him gasp before bucking into her harder. Her small palm ran along the underside of his length, feeling all his veins and heat. He could feel his cock throb in her hands as she rubbed him.

His forehead pressed into hers as he groaned. He was fully erect now and she knew it too. His cock had grown in size and felt incredibly hot and solid in her fingers. His pre-cum dribbled out the tip, making her palm sticky as her pace quickened.

He yanked the blankets off and flipped himself over her, eyes alert. He took in her frame and his cock twitched at the sight.

She was naked, hair splayed out over the pillow and legs loose around his waist. Hickeys strewn all over her skin, the fresher ones around her tits turning a deeper color.

He leaned lower, aligning his fully stiff cock at her entrance. Just touching her with the tip made his body gripe with lust.

He’d meant to tease her, maybe slide his cock through her folds a little, let his tip tease her clit but the second his cock touched her wetness his thoughts were set aflame. His jaw locked and he drove his cock straight into her pussy in one forceful stroke.

She cried out, her tits jumping as she jolted sensitively. Her hips could only tremble as her cunt squeezed around him. It always hurt when he fit himself inside all at once—but right now it hurt so good. She felt full in a way that she couldn’t think.

He was breathing heavily above her, his hand forming a fist at the crown of her head as he began to move his cock with no mercy. He was determined to show her what it meant to finish what she started.

“Satoru!” she cried while digging her nails into his shoulders.

He thrusted into her, hard and fast. As if they didn’t have any spare time to waste. He was hungry and she could feel it in each buck of his hips.

“Dont worry, baby.” he murmured huskily into her ear as she whined, “I got you.”

He pounded into her, burying his cock impossibly deeper each time. He knew it was a lot for her but he couldn’t help himself. He told himself she wouldn’t either—if she knew how good she felt.

Her insides clutched his cock like he was her lifeline. Fuck, if he wasn’t already, he should be. She was his lifeline as it was.

“ah—ah-aHh! Satoru—Satoru!!”

Fuck. He couldn’t stop. He kissed her, hard. She was too distracted to kiss him back. He felt her wet tears against his cheek and it made his thrusts get sloppy with heat.

He was close. So close. A few more thrusts—

Suddenly her fingers curled in his hair, her body arching underneath him as her insides gushed with fluid. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her head moving side to side desperately as she begged, “S-satoru—please!”

He exploded, cumming buckets and buckets and buckets into her heat. It didn’t matter that he’d already came inside her earlier in the night, something about her made him cum loads each time. And this time was no different.

He panted as he fell into the crook of her neck. He felt her body tremble oh so delicately underneath his.

He was still for a beat before kissing the skin underneath her ear and lowering his hand to where they were still joined. His thumb found her clit, making her jolt sensitively.

A small grin slid onto the end of his lip when he heard her slight, broken breath turn bated as he rubbed her tiny, slick bud.

“Toru,” she rasped out, unable to successfully twist away due to being pinned under him, “T-toru, what are you doing?”

The gentle pressure of his thumb against her clit picked up, making her shiver.

“What you did to me.” he murmured. “Waking you up.”

“I’m—I’m already awake.” she stuttered out, his thumb was making circles over her clit now.

“Hmm,” he hummed, “You didn’t cum.”

“I-I did.”

He used his thumb and forefinger to lightly squeeze her clit, making her lose all her breath.

“No you didn’t.”

“I did!” she gasped out desperately.

She shoved at his shoulders just as he began to move inside her, his cock slowly thrusting into the mess they’d made inside her. The wet sound echoing promiscuously in the room.

“Then prove it.” he whispered into her neck before licking underneath her jaw, along her several hickies as if sealing them in.

He straightened above her, looking down to see her eyes squinted shut and her lips twisted in unwanted desire. His cock throbbed as he thrusted into her harder.

“Prove it to me and do it again.”

“Millie, where the hell are we?” she asked.

Millie laughed, her tone as lighthearted as ever, “Don’t worry about it, just come.”

Millie took her hand and pulled her out of the car. Before them was one of the most extravagant hotels Ara had ever seen. It was absolutely insane.

She stared at the palm trees surrounded pool in shock. It had to be the biggest pool she’d ever seen in her life. The lights decorating the pathway to hotel doors were lit with real fire as Millie dragged her to the entrance.

Their heels clacked along the marble ground as they walked up to the main doors. They’d spent the entire day together–pointlessly glamming themselves up to the most excessive degree. From massages, to manicures, pedicures, eyebrow threading, hair, makeup, shopping, shopping and more shopping. From clothes, jewelry, shoes, accessories–anything that they liked they picked up. Gojo had said she could use her card on anything she wanted and Millie was more than happy to run it up–she nearly regretted telling Millie that.

But-at the same time-if she couldn’t spend with her best friend then what the hell was the point? Even if they’d blown through more money than she’d ever spent in the last decade in one day, it was admittedly a blast. It felt like something out of a dream.

The only thing she regretted was smoking a little weed in the car because now her head felt fuzzy–very fuzzy.

Ara couldn’t help but notice the security guards lining the walls the second they entered the lobby. Paranoia immediately seeped into her veins.

She turned and sharply faced Millie-only to become momentarily silenced. Millie looked stunning, her hair was pinned in a sexy, undone but not, 90s inspired updo that suited her incredibly well. Her mini-dress and heels matched perfectly and something about her dark brown smokey eye makeup brought out her eyes in the most appealing way. Damn, her best friend was hot.

Millie blinked, “What?”

Ara shook her head-pulling herself out of her reverie, “You’re hot.”

Millie smirked, squeezing her hand, “You’re hotter.”

Ara rolled her eyes before remembering her original task, “Listen,” she tugged her hand, “What are we doing here? We better not be doing something stupid. There’s a shit ton of security here.” she whispered.

Millie giggled, “Why do you always think the worst of me? We’re not sneaking in anywhere, don’t worry.”

“Then what are we doing here?”

Millie shook her head, “Just trust m-”

Ara glared, “What is this? Seriously?”

Millie let go of her hand and motioned for her to stay where she was, “Just hold on a sec.”

Ara stared at Millie in complete aggravation as she watched the girl walk up to the front desk. They were supposed to go to Millie’s place to drop off her shopping bags and then to Gojo’s place to drop off her own stuff. They then planned to just hang out and take pics there–not whatever this was.

She glanced up at the glass ceiling, reveling in the sight of the gorgeous starlit night sky before realizing it was rather late. Gojo was bound to be worried. Fuck.

She flipped open her clutch to find her phone–only to see it wasn’t inside. Oh shit.

Her heart rate skyrocketed–suddenly she felt a hand on her elbow and glanced up to see Millie with two security guards behind her.

Millie smiled, “C’mon lets go.”

Ara stared at the three of them in confusion, unable to speak for a moment. “..Millie..?”

“Just c’mon.” Millie slid her hand around her elbow and began to walk towards the elevator. The security guards followed.

“Wait,” Ara pulled her arm out of hers, “I can’t find my phone. I think I left it in the car. I need to call Ijichi–”

“Just don’t worry about it.” Millie hassled her into the elevator–nearly making Ara trip over her heels.

“What the fuck, Millie?” Ara asked harshly. She swiveled around to notice the security guards follow them inside the elevator and press a button to a floor she couldn’t see due to the guards’ huge stature blocking the way.

“I’m sorry, I just need you to be patient for a sec.”

Ara immediately refocused her attention to her, “Patient? What the fuck is going on? Do you even know where we are going?”

Millie pursed her lips and shrugged.

Ara raised a brow, “Are you good? I need my phone. I need to call Ijichi–or Gojo.”

Millie smacked her teeth, “Gojo? Are you still thinking about him right now? Just quit already–you're like a lovesick girlfriend.”

Ara glared, “What the hell? You know he’s the one on my ass all the time. He’s probably texted you already, asking about me.”

“Doesn’t he have your location?”

“Yeah but if I don’t text him often he gets pissy. You know this.”

Millie giggled, “Is he the girl in the relationship?”

Ara couldn’t help but chuckle, “You still want to date him?”

“Yes, especially if he gives me that credit card.”

Ara didn’t get the chance to respond because suddenly the elevator doors opened to reveal a lavishly adorned rooftop–everything pastel purple and white themed. Her favorite colors..

Suddenly the sound of confetti cannons went off, making her jump.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!”

Ara was pushed out the elevator by Millie to see several of her classmates waiting for her, hooting and hollering like animals. Pastel purple confetti everywhere. Shoko crushed her in a hug first.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!” Shoko pulled back, beaming-it wasn’t hard to tell from the flush on her cheeks that she’d already started drinking.

Shoko’s eyes widened, before pinching her cheek, “You look soo good, girl. Damn.”

Ara blushed slightly, “Thank you.”

“No thank you,” Shoko placed a hand on her shoulder, “Seriously. You’re probably…” She paused, as if trying to find the right words, “one of the coolest people I’ve ever met.” she said with a firm nod.

Ara paused, “Really?”

“Yeah, you’re.. you. And you don’t let anyone else around you make you otherwise, I like that. You don’t let Gojo get his way all the time either, which is exactly what he needs. He needs to hear some no’s in his life. And get humbled. Lots of humbling.”

Shoko shook her head, smiling to herself as she continued, “It’s honestly refreshing to hear him complain about you.”

“He complains about me?”

Shoko laughed, “Little things like you refusing to go to an escape room with him or you forcing him to wear a seat belt ever since he nearly totaled that car.”

Ara refrained from rolling her eyes, she’d only seen a video of the 'almost' incident but he’d been two seconds away from smashing the car front first into a bridge and that was all she needed to witness to shut it down. She knew it’d be impossible to stop his chronic speeding but a seatbelt was the least she could do. It hadn’t even been his car either, it was Geto’s.

Shoko continued with a humorous smile, “He gets so upset when you don’t use his gifts.”

Ara’s eyes widened indignantly, “He gives me too many.”

“It’s honestly hilarious,” she chuckled before shrugging, “It’s stupid but like, lots of the girls he’s been with were honestly.. pushovers and it was highkey nauseating. You know how to handle him though.”

Ara opened her mouth slightly, intending to respond but..

Is that how it looks like? Stoic, studious Ara keeping fuckboy billionaire Gojo in line? She supposed only Millie knew of his possessiveness but then.. maybe to others it really did look like he was in line. He rarely did things without her, in fact he didn’t even party without her–out of his own accord. He listened to her every whim and desire and was almost desperate to do so—outside of bed.

Shoko patted her cheek, drawing her out of her thoughts, “I just hope he doesn’t do something stupid and lose you.”

She stared at Shoko’s sincere expression for a moment, feeling her heart tighten suddenly. She didn’t have much time to dwell on it though because the second Shoko let go of her shoulder, she went stumbling backwards.

Before Ara could even outstretch her hands Nanami appeared and caught Shoko a second before she truly toppled over. His arms slipped around her waist and she melted into him. Shoko mumbled something incoherent in his neck and a warm smile immediately bloomed on his face.

He glanced towards Ara, his kind smile widening, “She’s fine, I promise.”

She watched his hand caress Shoko’s short hair as he continued, “Happy birthday. I hope you like our gift. Ieiri went through a lot to make sure you liked it.”

Shoko placed her index finger on his lips, still keeping her face buried in his shoulder as she did this, “Don’t tell her what it is.”

“I didn’t!” he exclaimed.

Ara laughed only to suddenly be pulled into another hug. Then another and another. All of Shoko’s friends. Arden. Mina. Leah, they all wished her and updated her on random tea about their classmates that she could’ve lived without hearing but she didn’t mind. When the conversation turned to her outfit they showered her with such compliments she couldn’t help but feel bubbly inside–until Arden spoke.

“Listen, I don’t know about you guys but the second she stepped out that elevator my g-string got soaked.”

A short silence ensued and she added, “Just saying.”

Mina spoke, “Girl what.”

“It’s the bi in me.”

Leah laughed as Mina playfully shoved Arden. Ara shook her head, giggling under her breath as she turned around–only to run into Toji and Haibara.

Haibara beamed the second he saw her, “Birthday girl!!!!”

He outstretched his arms but quickly looked past her, seeming to notice something-or someone-and pretended to run his hand through his hair. Ara was too in her own head to notice. She hadn’t exactly been mentally prepared to see so many people.

Regardless, Haibara’s smile offered her a semblance of reassurance. He had that sort of aura-of a human teddy bear.

She returned his smile, “That’s me~”

He suddenly whipped out his phone, “Your reaction was so funny, look look. You really looked around trying to find out who’s birthday it was.”

Ara watched the video on his phone to see he was right. When everyone shouted happy birthday, she’d broken her neck to look everywhere and behind herself like a fool.

She moved his arm away to get the video out of her sight before she could over-analyze herself further. She hated being photographed, videoed or any of the like.

“That’s cuz I forgot it was my birthday.”

“You really forgot?” he asked.

“Yeah.” she shrugged. Her family never did anything on the day so-aside from a happy birthday text from Millie-it was just a regular day to her.

“Well,” Toji’s deep voice rumbled, “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded, his dark hair swaying subtly as he did so. It should be illegal for his narrow green eyes to look as seductive as they did while merely maintaining eye contact.

“You look pretty.” he complimented. The words were simple, truly straightforward and yet his sensual voice made it feel like something more. No wonder women dropped like flies around his feet.

She raised her chin imperceptibly, “Thanks Toji.”

Out of all of Gojo’s friends, he was the one she least got along with. Maybe because they were both somewhat the quiet type but it was also because she wasn’t a fool.

She knew-given the chance-he’d rip her clothes off without a second's delay if she asked. He wouldn’t even care if Gojo came after him. He was just that sort of person. But even he with all his lingering stares and subtle seductive tactics wasn’t aware of Gojo’s limits—or moreso, the lack thereof.

She was forced to break their little staring contest when a hand suddenly grabbed her elbow and twirled her around. She was met with Millie’s sly grin and Geto standing a slight bit behind her. He greeted her with a small smile.

“Having fun?” Millie teased.

Ara tilted her head, “Did you set all this up?”

“I’m rich but not that rich,” she jutted her chin somewhere to her right, “That’s all him right there.”

Ara glanced over to see Gojo leaning against a railing, somewhat excluded from the others for a change. He looked like something straight out of a romance movie. His silky white hair had been pushed back, minus for the few unruly strands that hung over his forehead. He’d grown his hair out a bit-at her request-but she liked the way it looked more weighted at his nape, like a little mane.

He wore a simple black dress-shirt, untucked from his matching pants. The outfit was simple and yet the subtle contours of his tautly muscular frame made it all the more appealing. He was unbuttoning the top few buttons at his collar when he caught her gaze. The corner of his glossy lips immediately lifting upwards.

Her heart skipped a beat.

“He’s waiting for youuu.” Millie sang into her ear.

Ara was suddenly forced forward by Millie’s not-so-subtle push.

She walked towards him, feeling her breath grow shallow with each step. His eyes remained transfixed on her. She didn’t miss the way his gaze dropped to take her in from head to toe. When his eyes found hers again, a pale pink hue decorated his cheeks.

He straightened off the railing, “Hi kitten.”

She stopped right before him. A tiny smile finding its way to her lips, “Hey.”

He brought his arm around from behind himself to reveal a bouquet of white hibiscus flowers. Her favorite flower. She didn’t meet his eyes as he handed it to her.

“Satoru..”

“Don’t be mad at me,” he rushed out, “please.”

She glanced up at him.

“I know you don’t like people. That’s why I kept it small. I just.. had to do something. I had to. Especially after you told me you never did anything for your birthday before-I didn’t like it. You deserve to be celebrated-”

A small laugh left her lips, “I deserve to be celebrated?”

“Yes.” he replied indignantly.

She shook her head, “You worry about the oddest things.”

He blinked slowly, “..you hate this.”

“I would’ve been happy even if it was just us, y’know.” she replied gently.

His eyes widened for a moment before he hung his head, “I’m sorry.”

She set the flowers down on a nearby table before touching his arm, “I didn’t say I wasn’t happy now though.”

He lifted his head slightly, a hint of that boyish spark returning to his eyes. He searched her face, “..really?”

She nodded, “This is all.. really nice actually. No one’s ever surprised me before.”

The corner of his lip lifted tantalizingly, “You like it?”

She slipped her arms around his shoulders, “Only this once.”

His devilishly handsome smile returned in full force before he crushed her to himself. His strong arms tightening around her waist to lift her up as he kissed her. Her hands wound themselves in his hair as they kissed. She felt his heartbeat through his shirt and couldn’t help but smile against his lips. He’d been nervous and she couldn’t help but find it undeniably cute.

He lowered her to her feet but didn’t let her go, showering her face with kisses as she laughed.

She gently shoved his firm shoulders, “Toru, stop.”

He kissed her temple, still keeping her close as he whined, “I can’ttttt.”

One of his hands around her waist slid low to her ass, giving it a squeeze.

She glared up at him, “Satoru.”

He grinned.

“Alright lovebirds,” Millie’s familiar voice rang out from their left, drawing them out of their little bubble. “Now that you’re done sucking each other’s faces off, I need to take a picture with the birthday girl.”

She took Ara’s hand and walked her over to a lengthy, elaborate flower wall made solely of white hibiscus flowers. Ara gaped.

Millie shoved her phone in Gojo’s chest only for him to catch her wrist, “Milsss, don’t you think her boyfriend should get a pic with her first?”

“I’m her best friend.”

“So.”

“So?” Millie nearly yelled.

“I set this whole place up.”

“You mean the people you hired set this place up.”

“Same difference.”

“It’s most definitely not. Do you know what it took to get her here? She nearly bit my head off in the elevator.”

“Did she?” Ara could hear the grin in his voice.

“Yeah! It was hard as hell to sneak her phone from her too cuz you kept texting her..”

As they bickered, Ara couldn’t help but take a moment to look around. Some of her classmates were already taking pictures in front of the flower wall while others were at the drink table. Pouring themselves drink after drink as they meandered about. Laughter and music filling the air. And the view… the rooftop view was to die for. It was something she never could’ve imagined in a million lifetimes.

It was in moments like these where she’d wonder..

How did I get here?

Ara pulled the blanket up to Millie’s shoulders. She was passed out, like most of her classmates once they brought the party inside the penthouse suite of the hotel. It was nearly 5 am so she couldn’t blame them.

“Psst.”

Ara glanced over to see Gojo walking her way, a drink in hand. She knew he didn’t drink so..

“If that drink is for me then you can put it away.”

He grinned, “Nah it’s water.”

“Oh,” she took it from him and then took a sip, only to spit it out, “That’s vodka!”

“Eheheh,” She shoved him as he sat down on the couch beside her. He motioned towards Millie, “She’s out?”

Ara nodded, “She drank enough for everyone combined.”

“That’s what I’m talking about.”

Ara squinted, “You don’t even drink.”

“Shhh,” he slipped his hand into hers, “Can I steal you now?”

“For what?”

“I have to show you something.”

She was silent for a moment, “It’s too early for a prank.”

He grinned brightly, “It’s not a prank. I promise.”

a/n: continued in chapter 5 [ part III ]

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yujinslovr · 1 year ago

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shadows - vampire!choi yena x fem!reader

warnings: smut, cunnilingus, uhh blood sucking??

genre: smut w a bit of plot

synopsis: you didn't know what it was about this unfamiliar girl that drew you in so much.

a/n: pls ignore any mistakes, i wrote this at 4am while halfasleep😭😭 also tbh i rly wsnt gonna write smut abt yena bcz shes my baby wabey but i like saw it, it was a vision and i had to write it😞😞

word count: 1,521

an unfamiliar face, one that you hadn’t seen in all your years of living in this small town. not only unfamiliar, but unusual the bright red of her eyes shone under the dim light of the bar she leaned against. you wondered why one would come here wearing red contacts of all things, or come here in general. no one ever moved here, everyone was always longing to leave, this town where everyone knew each other, this town where nothing good ever occurred. this town that tourists avoided, this town that everyone in south korea avoided, this haunted town that you grew up in.

you usually never came to places like these, never liking the loud music nor the sweaty bodies that would come into contact with you. but today was your birthday, and not allowing you to stay home and watch netflix for this event. your friends had dragged you out of your apartment, forcing you to go out clubbing with them. usually you’d deny them, but tonight they had been much more insistent and you eventually caved.

“who is she? i’ve never seen her before.” you elbowed your friend, gesturing your head towards the unfamiliar girl.

your friend, hyewon, responded with a shrug of her shoulders. she had never seen this girl, never in this club and never out of this club. “why? wanna take her home?” hyewon teased. when you didn't respond, only flushed her eyes widened.

“actually?!” with this newfound information she rushed over to your other friends and relayed the information.

they all started cheering, minju pushing you in the girls direction, knowing you’d never make a move. much to your luck, minju’s push had been hard enough to send you falling over in front of her. the mysterious girl, seeing this quickly reached out and caught you in her arms.

“falling for me already?” she asked, a cheeky smile spread on her beautiful face. you couldn't help but take a moment to roam your eyes over her face, taking in her beauty.

“s-sorry,” you stuttered out, quickly breaking free of her arms and standing straight on your own two feet.

you tried not to, but the challenge of keeping your eyes on hers and not her cute duck lips was proving to be an issue. reading her lips but not registering her voice let out an ‘it’s all good’. you couldn't help the blush on your face at the way her lips would stick out when she spoke. you wondered how they’d feel on your own.

seeing that your gaze was fixed on her lips she let out a chuckle “can i get you a drink?” she questioned. with your gaze still on her lips, imagining them dragging along your skin you nodded. “my eyes aren't that low, you know.” she said, a smug smirk on her face. you immediately lowered your gaze to the floor as you grew even redder. who was this girl and how was she invoking this unfamiliar feeling in you?

she grabbed your chin, tilting your head up, your eyes now meeting hers. she slowly leaned in, her lips meeting your waiting ones. unlike all your other ones, this kiss wasn't at all soft nor slow. It was fast, messy and desperate. her hands roaming your body before settling on your ass, squeezing, eliciting a moan from you. she took this moan as an opportunity to have her tongue enter your mouth, exploring the depths of it. you could taste the cherry of her chapstick and the faint taste of whiskey that lingered in her mouth, no doubt from her previous drink. you were never one to have one night stands, in fact this was going to be your first one. you much rather preferred to be in a stable relationship before having sex. but something about this girl made you want to give yourself up to her.

“let’s go to your place?” she asked, breaking away from the kiss to talk.

“okay, let me just go get my things then we can go.” with one last kiss she let go of you, to walk back over to where your friends were to get your purse.

“uh guys i'm gonna go now, kay?” minju whistled hearing this, the rest of them cheering and making comments on what you were gonna do. you rolled your eyes and walked back over to the girl whose name you realized you still didn't know.

“im y/n” you said, finally introducing yourself after you told the taxi driver your address. “yena.” she said before pulling you onto her lap and reattaching her lips to yours. the drive to your house went by in a blur, you two spending the whole time making out and groping each other. you two entered your house in the same manner, you struggling to punch the code in while she kissed your neck from behind.

you led her to your room, her lips not leaving yours for a second. when you reached the foot of your bed she pushed you onto it, then crawled on top of you, settling on your abdomen. she leaned down and began biting and sucking at your skin, maybe if you had been a bit more sober you would have questioned the stinging pain in your neck. how she stayed at the same spot on your neck for a bit too long. but alas you didn't think twice about why there was a sudden pain in your neck, her hands that were massaging your breasts thoroughly distracting you.

she stopped for a moment, ridding you of all your clothes before going to your chest to start her sucking and licking there. maybe if you paid more attention, you’d have found it weird that she never undressed. but the way she circled her tongue around your nipple, not a thought was able to be formed in your mind. you couldn't focus on anything other than the wonders her tongue was doing.

“mmh y-yena, please.” you moaned out, desperately wishing for her to continue what she was doing except lower

“please what? tell me what you want, baby.” she said, coming up to plant a kiss on your lips

“p-please just fuck me already.” you whined out, tired of her teasing.

hearing this, a huge smile planted itself on yena’s face as she went lower and towards your bare pussy. she let out a breath, causing a shiver to erupt all throughout your body, pushing your hips into her face. she held your hips down and used both of her thumbs to open up your lips, getting a good look at your exposed pussy. she extended her tongue and licked a stripe up your core, stopping at your clit to suck. the moans that left your mouth consisted of curses of her name, you could just hope that your neighbors were out for the night.

she ate you out as if she had been starved for days, the way the wet muscle had entered and exited you bringing you closer to euphoria. you couldn't control the noises that exited your mouth if you wanted to, you didn't want to control them though. you wanted her to know that it was her who was making you feel this way. the way her tongue caressed your walls as she reached it farther than you thought it was possible for a tongue to reach was heavenly.

the same went for her though, your sweet taste on her tongue and the way you clenched around her was almost enough to get her off. your moans turned yena on more than she’d like to admit, your pretty voice screaming her name. feeling your walls tighten around her she reached a hand up to grab one of your breasts. she rolled your nipple in between her fingers and that was it for you. you couldn't hold it in any longer, letting go and cumming onto her tongue. she lapped up your juices, cleaning you up until you pushed her head away slightly, the pain of overstimulation catching up to you and outweighing the pleasure.

she got up from in between your legs and leaned down to kiss your lips, shoving her tongue into your mouth letting you get a taste of yourself. you let out a moan into her mouth as you sloppily kissed back, tired after what had just transpired between the two of you. when oxygen became a problem, she pulled away and laid down next to you. your eyes felt heavy, immediately falling into a deep slumber.

when you opened your eyes the next morning, she was gone. and so was any trace that she had ever been there. the hickeys she left on you being the only proof she was ever there, along with two mysterious holes on your neck. it looked almost as if you’d been bitten, by what you had no idea.

almost as if she never existed to begin with, after that night she was never to be seen again by you. from the shadows she had come and to the shadows she had returned.

#yujinslovr #choi yena #izone #choi yena x reader #yena x reader #smut #yena x fem!reader #izone smut #vampire #vampire x reader #izone imagines #kpop #kpop x reader #kpop gg #girl group #vampire x human #izone x reader

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gimmeurmoneyagh · 2 months ago

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𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀 - 𝟎:𝟎𝟐

❝𝟏𝟔𝟎𝟎 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭, 𝐄𝐠𝐲𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭❞

- Cleo De Nile

Oh my rah, it was full of normie boys.

You let your jaw drop open, and silently weeped at the fact there were no ghouls. Crowley noticed and giggled a little and Grimm just rolled over and over on your shoulder.

“Is that all for the new student dorm assignments?“ A red-head (ew a ginger, teehee) started, putting his hand on his hip.

“Listen up new students. Here in Heartslabyul I am the rules. Break them and it’s off with your head.“ He kept a pointed look to the group of Heartslabyul freshman.

A man with lion ears just groaned “Urgh. This stuffy ceremony is finally over.“ (OMG A WERE-LION SHIT. maybe you werent in aschool for normies?)

“We’re going back to the dorm. Savanaclaws, follow me.“ He waved over a group of Savanaclaw freshman to follow him.

A boy with a beauty mark and glasses smiled over to the group of Octavinelle freshman, “To the new students, congratulations on entering this academy. Enjoy your life here to it’s fullest!“

“As the dorm leader of Octavinelle I will suport you to the best of my ability!“

A drop-dead gorgeous man (or was it a ghoul?) hummed “By the way where did the Headmaster go? He flew right out in the middle of the ceremony...“

“Abandoning his post...“ a tablet(?, where the hell were you) spoke.

“Maybe he got a tummy ache or something!“ a cheerful looking boy said.

“Not at all!“ Crowely spoke up putting his hands out, “oh... he’s here“ The red-head said.

“I cannot believe you all.“ He sniffed into his hands, as if crying. “We were missing one new student so I went to find them.“

’Maybe I didn’t want to be found?!’

Crowley pushed you in front of him causing all the students to focus their gaze on you. Which caused you to look down, but then you were like wait a minute i’m a de nile! So you stared straight ahead at the dark mirror, wishing to just go home already.

“You were the only one yet to be assigned a dormitory. I shall watch over the raccoon,“ (Grim hissed when Crowley said that) “step in front of the dark mirror.“

You walked up to the mirror, strutting up the steps. Hiding the fact you did not want to be here.

“State thy name“

You were so close to doing what you did to the guard in Hauntlywood, but the mirror creeped you out with it’s black eyes.

“My name is (Name) De Nile, 😼. You might have heard of me!“ You gloat, the mirror frowns and shakes it’s head(? mask?).

“(Name) De Nile... The nature of thy soul is...“

Maybe stop taking long-ahh pauses?

“I do not know“

“Come again?“ Crowley screeched but covered it up with a cough. “I sense not a spark of magic from this one...“

Duh! Maybe because you weren’t a witch??

You were a mummy. A mummy. You were starting to get seriously annoyed so you huffed and wrapped your arms around your chest.

“The color. The shape. Are all nothing“

Excuse you?! What kinda place were you in if the sacred object (ooooh) can’t even recognize greatness?

“Therefore she is suited for no dormitory.“

Crickets chirped before the room exploded in murmurs. Using that time you briskly walked down the stairs and into the crowd near Crowley.

“Did the mirror say ’she’?“

“Yes you fucking deaf bitch. I hope you die“

“I ate my grandma :)“

“Okay jeffrey dahmer“

“An ebony carriage would never go to meet someone who can’t use magic! Nevertheless a woman!“

“I’m still here“ You sneer “And the fuck does me being a girl have to do with it??“

Crowley ignored you again (you swear you were plotting his downfall) “In a hundred years there has not once been a mistake in the student selection. So why in the world...“

He stroked his non-existant beard. (why are people here so goofy)

“It’s probably your fault“ You offered as a reason, he frowned displeased by you words. (tf he expect you to do praise his ass???)

“Then i’ll take her place!“ A screechy voice shouted, it was Grim!!

“Stay right there, racoon!“

Geim ignored Crowley giving him a taste of his one medicine “Unlike that dumb human, I can use magic! Lemme in the school instead!!“

Did you have to say it again? You were not a normie.

“If ya’ need proof I’ll show you right now!“ Grim smirked (at no one, no one cared).

“Everybody, get down!“ a voice stunned you, and you instictively shoved someone in front of you while getting down. (were you an asshole? maybe, but at least you were’nt scorched)

“NNNAGHH!!!“

The room erupted in bright blue flames covering the ground, causing you to cough from the smoke being emitted.

“WAH! HOTTT!!! MY BUT’S ON FIRE!!!“ someone cried out, it was that boy with red eyes that said crowley had a tummy ache. You mentally giggled at the memory before scolding yourself for thinking about that when the room was on fire.

“At this rate the school will be a sea of fire! Somebody catch that racoon!“

A burst of fire went your way so you pushed someone in front of you. You don’t remember who it was though (savanaclaw student b)

You were going to ignore the red-eyed guy but you noticed his earings. And they shined like real gold, annd you had to get some of that sweet sweet friend money!!!

“Here,“ You took of your robe and repatedly smacked his ass with it (that’s how fires stopped in those normie adds, right?).

He looked up at you with a big smile, “THANKYOUSOMUCHIT’SSOKINDOFYOU-“

You smile at him “No need for the thank yous. you’re welcome“ you giggle cutting him off.

“I have to throw a party for you!“ He grabbed your hands and clasped them together, you felt a tiny piece of guilt for only helping him because of the gold earings. But you’re broke in this new world you need money.

You wave him off as he sing your praises, and honestly it was making your ego swell. But then some fuckface just had to interupt you too.

“Kalim! What are you doing you could’ve gotten hurt!“ some guy hissed a hint of annoyance showing on his face before masking it with a (fake) look of fear.

“Jamil! You have to mee... Huh? Where is she?“ Kalim thought out loud.

“Tch! Suck ups!“ the were-lion (you think. you’re not sure where the fuck your were) snorted (weed)

The hottie with purple hair tips just scoffed “Hmm? Aren’t you supposed to be good at hunting? Doesn’t it look like a nice plump snack“ He cooed condescendingly.

“Why me? Do it yourself.“ the were-lion snarled, you get being a were and stuff (from Clawdeen) but growling? that’s crossing the line.

“Mr. Crowley, please leave it to me“ a sickingly-sweet voice called out, it was that guy with a beauty mark. And he was grinned as if eager to show off his magical ability. “I’m suure the others couldn’t stomach harassing the poor creature, so I shall take it upon myself.“

“WTG, Azul. Always trynna rack up those points.“ The tablet spoke up (you’ve seen crazier).

“Are you all even listening!?“ Crowley stomped his feet.

“If it’s just catching some stupid raccoon, I’m sure you can do it yourself, Teach.“ the were-lion grumbled crossing his arms under his chest. (you were looking respectfully okay🙏)

“Grrr! How many times do I have to tell you! I’m not a raccoon“ Grim whined, “I- the great Grim will become the greatest mage ever!!!“

“It certainly has moxie,“ Azul mused “Care to help me, Riddle?“

“I certainly can’t overlook those who break rules. Let’s hurry and get this over with.“ The angry red-head (now known as Riddle) glared daggers at Grim.

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!“

note : ignore all plotholes (or else)🐺🐺

#twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twst #x reader #reader is cleo de nile (mix of all the gens)#slow burn #reader is a bitch #and a nebo baby #PRIMADONNA : twst #twst

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be-my-ally · 1 year ago

Text

The Lisa-Marie

Big Bunny + The Return Flight (in case you want to catch up!)

Warnings: 18+, exhibitionism (public rehearsal, but no-one else is watching/or sees), elvis is a panty thief for no reason other than it’s now totally canon in my head that he continually stole knickers, fingering, mentions of drug use + abuse, oral (v receiving, p mentioned), jealousy, p in v sex, the briefest mention of a gun threat, references to elvis’ ill health. this is somehow the least-bunny fun + plottiest, while also the smuttiest so uhhh enjoy the angst at the end?

Director Elvis is linked where the scene goes in the middle of this, however there have been some minor adjustments to the opening + closing paragraphs to make it fit *just right* and so they’ve been inserted here.

wc: 12k

Pls forgive me for the longest author note ever:

I went waaaay too far into attempting to make the timeline totally accurate; to the extent that I was noting down what city each night when i wasn’t even referencing them but honestly it was stressing me out so much that I gave up and removed a lot of the references - so this is *mostly* accurate in the general tour dates and vibes but not entirely because … this isn’t a biography, it’s smut with a lil teeny weeny bit of plot.

Confession time! I was and am super unhappy with The Return Flight, there was so much in it that I was excited to share but I think my writing is off and I’m not super sure why, which affected my motivation for this A LOT so apologies for the fact this took a literal months. But hopefully you’ll all think it was worth it! And hopefully a lesser wait for the fourth and final part.

Anyway, I might return Elvis onto the Big Bunny plane for a little spin-off fun but for now, enjoy bunny still being referred to as Bunny even though, by half-way through this, she is no longer a bunny.

October 1974.

You’re awake before him, gently shaking his shoulder as he groaned into the fur comforter that he didn’t want to wake up yet. He eventually shoves you hard enough that you decide it’s probably safer just to leave him as he is, pulling yourself together and redressing instead - he’s still got his eyes closed when you slip out. Ten minutes later you get a note passed to you with details about where to meet them for the pre-show rehearsal but you don’t actually get the chance to see him again, too distracted with dealing with all the matters of the disembarkation and cleaning. After you’re done you change as quickly as you possibly can, ignoring the questions from the other girls about where you’re going - practically sprinting to catch a cab.

He’s already on the stage when you walk in, pacing about - blocking the show as best they can in preparation to allow for the lights crew to have some idea of where he might be at any moment. He looks marvellous - absolutely gorgeous, his hair back but essentially left to do what it likes, all fluffy and soft looking. Eyes bright underneath his tinted glasses. He’s dressed in a white shirt, cuffs like a pirate, damp see-through sweat patches evident when he raises his arms, filigree studded belt, huge against his stomach, blue stones glinting in the lights. You feel your mouth water and tummy start to flip just at the sight of him. He smiles when he sees you, with your tiny little halter dress on, chilly in the cold air of the auditorium at the venue. The breeze causes you to wrap an arm around yourself a little self-consciously as he waves you closer to the stage. You're practically leaning on the edge when he kneels down in front of you and you get a sudden flash of what it must feel like to be a girl at his concert. Someone who hadn't had the luxury of falling asleep beside him, or the feel of his palms against theirs. The feeling of being forced to look up at him, his head backlit by the lights, a halo like he's the goddamn messiah. That feeling of desperately pining for a single moment of his attention.

“Ah-ha! lil Bun-Bun! C’mon up here,” He puts an arm down before retracting it, looking you over more carefully, a note of stern shock in his tone,

“Good lord! That might be more r’vealing than your lil bunny get-up. Uh - here!” He gropes around the floor for his jacket before he thrusts it at you, and you look at it with amusement, it’s a rainbow. Rainbow fringe. It’s truly one of the most preposterous things you’ve ever seen in your life. He grumbles as he holds it out,

“Don’t need every man in here to be starin’ at you. Got work to do - don’t need ‘em bein’ distracted.” You don’t think you’re particularly scantily clad, you’re certainly showing a fair amount of leg but you’re far more covered up than Playboy enterprises would like you to be had you been on shift. But still, it was chilly, so you shrug it on gratefully. The soft leather caresses your arms, encasing you in his thick scent, it’s heavy on your shoulders and big enough that the fringe tassel tickles your thigh.

“Uh Hi, Where-“ You wonder if you should even ask, “Where’d this come from?” You shake your arms out, making the fringe dance.

“Oh - it was a gift,” He grins at you, lips all crooked in his sheer delight, “You like it?” He clearly loves it. So you lean into the absurdity and realise that what you’re about to say wasn’t even really a lie.

“Uh. You know what, yeah I do,” You giggle as you shimmy a little making the strands swing. “I love it.” He looks at you fondly before he leans over the edge of the stage, tugging you up with a grunt.

“Glad you could make it doll, been waiting for you.” You smile back at him, pleased as anything that he’s laying on the charm but that underneath you can still sense the sincerity in his voice.

“Thank you for inviting me.” He pulls you close to him and you brace yourself with a hand on his belt, feeling the weight of the buckle against your fingertips. He reaches down to grasp your hand, pulling it up to press a kiss against it. It’s intimate and gentlemanly and you feel like you’re in a period drama, feeling your chest heave as your breath catches in your throat at the movement, and you’re helpless to do anything but gaze into his eyes. You glance down, eyes catching on the wide white band on his wrist, just above his diamond encrusted ‘Elvis’ bracelet.

You stroke his wrist gently before looking up at him with a questioning brow raised. He kicks his foot out to show you that beneath his gently flaring trousers there’s a matching white band on each of his ankles.

“It, uh, it mimics the weight of the ‘suit, gets me used to it for the performing.” He flicks a wrist, “And, uh, gotta try and get some of this weight off.” He pats his stomach, gripping the side harshly, “No-one wants to see a big doughy ol’ Elvis.” He shakes his wrists at you, and you’re mortified at the fact that it makes you squeeze your thighs, drool pooling in your mouth forcing you to swallow hard. Something about the way the rings on his fingers glint under the stage lights, the way the buckle makes the tiniest little metallic clang, feels akin to being shown a hidden sliver of skin. Makes you think all sorts of things. Of the weight of them around his wrists, of the possibility of them around yours, weighing you down, wrapped around your ankles too, making you heavy and pliable. Or his belt around your middle, the huge buckle pinning you in whatever position he chose. You don’t realise how low your eyelids have slid at this line of thinking until he laughs,

“God - you got them dirty thoughts written all over your face Bunny, this is a respectable r’hearsal, don’t you go getting any ideas now.” He wags a finger at you, you feel like you’re being hypnotised watching it.

“Go on now - hop over there for me, sit yourself down, just watch the show baby.” He slaps your ass, causing you to yelp as he catches your bare thigh, while he grips your upper arm and ‘helps’ to lower you down gently, almost missing his huff of laughter in response. You have to take a second after you're on the ground forcing a deep breath feeling your heartbeat between your thighs.

You take a seat where he’d pointed, content to try and settle down and watch him practice. It’s gorgeous to watch, he struts about the stage, breaking into gospel every now and again, making you smile at the clear little flashes of joy on his face. You’d considered if it was going to be boring, contemplated even bringing a magazine with you but now you were here you can’t imagine being able to concentrate on anything but him. Every now and again he cracks a joke, changing the lyrics to something dirty and tossing you a wink, laughing back at the boys who all join in like a pack of wild hyenas. It’s different to how he is in private, yet shockingly the same - there’s flashes of the insecurity you caught on the last flight, a quietness to him while he waits for a song to be set up or a wire to be fixed. But also an exaggerated boyishness to him, playing the jester for men who don’t seem to be aware he’s putting it on.

He calls a break after you’ve been there about an hour, and he slides himself off the stage to walk over to you. You were going to try and play it cool but you can’t stop yourself from gushing at him;

“You sound wonderful. I can’t wait to see the show tonight.” He smiles, a little bashfully,

“Yeah? I can see you wigglin’ your yittle hips from all the way over there,” He narrows his eyes at you, crinkles forming as his high cheekbones move, “ ‘just wonderful’, ‘s that all I am?”

“Well you’re not - ” You squirm a little under his line of questioning and consistent stare, suddenly feeling a bit too hot in his jacket, “- not bad to look at. You’re so different out here than on the plane.”

“In a good way?” You hum back a non-committal noise and though his brow wrinkles a little he lets it go. Instead leaning back on the chair in front of you, feet crossing between your legs. He folds his arms across his chest, your eyes track the bands on his wrists again and when you look up he’s smirking at you watching him. You can’t take it any longer and his smile grows wider watching you shrug his jacket back off, letting it hang over the back of the chair, fringe tickling your arms as it falls,

“Let’s make this more interesting for you huh, must be boring having to wait for all this - ‘n I can see you’re all fired up for me doll.” You look around, but he’s blocking your view forcing you to focus on him even more, as if he wasn’t already the only thing you could see.

“Oh no, it’s plenty fascinating enough El honestly,” He shakes his head, magnanimously as if he’s doing you a favour,

“No, no, must be boring for an exciting lil girl like you.” He taps his chin almost pantomime-esque in its overdramatic nature.

“Hmm… what shall we do to keep it entertaining.” You squirm silently begging him to stop drawing your attention to his wrists. He bends down, unstrapping the weights from his ankles,

“They’re gonna be a bit big on you. But still,” He kneels down, like he’s the prince and you’re Cinderella, tapping your foot to make you lift it up for him. He slips it onto your ankle, letting it fall down over the top of your foot as the weight drags it down. You wiggle your foot - it’s not particularly heavy, you could definitely still walk and run in them - as was probably their intended use. But they made you feel very … aware, made you notice whenever you wanted to move your leg. He grabs your right leg now, doing the same, placing it back down when he was finished, your legs wide. You glance down at him, realising that your dress was certainly too short for this. You try to close your legs but he stops you with a hand to your knee.

“No, no, darlin’, leave ‘em where they are. That’s gonna be your job ok baby? You’re gonna keep these yittle legs spread, and when you try to wiggle around again these-“ He taps one of the weights “ ‘ll remind you to keep still.” You hiss back at him,

“Elvis - someone’s gonna, you gotta get up - they’re all gonna think we’re up to no good, don’t want - I don’t wanna get you in trouble.” He grins up from between your legs, spreading them further. You cringe a little, feeling the air now brush against your uncovered underwear, feel your wetness start to drool onto the fabric despite the embarrassment.

“Ain’t gonna be no trouble ‘round here little one. ‘Member I’m in charge.” He takes a second to leer at you, and your thighs twitch at him staring straight up your skirt. Finally, he stands up, using your thighs for balance, clutching at them on his way up, you gasp at the firm grip. He leans down over you, one arm bracketed on the back of your chair, and the sudden scent of him, stronger than what was lingering on his jacket almost overpowers you - his cologne almost too much, like walking past a men’s locker room. He leans down to murmur in your ear, his other hand going down to brush against your hip, feeling through your dress for the waistband of your panties.

“C’mon Bunny slip ‘em off, let me have ‘em as a good luck charm. I haven’t got any of yours yet.” Your legs slip a little closer together and while he looks down and smirks he allows it,

“You got a collection?” You ask shocked, tilting your chin up at him, he grins back at you, boyishly and amused ignoring the question.

“C’mon! Hurry up, gotta get back to work in a second baby, want you all bare - so its nice and easy for you to slip a lil hand up there, want you to rub yerself every time you like what ‘m doin, ‘till you’re all silly with it. Okay doll?” He says it like its a totally sane request, and you have to wonder if he’s of completely sound mind. You glance around, double checking that the building is practically empty, and where there are people that they’re all preoccupied with the stage rather than glancing back at you sat in the middle of the row a few lines behind the mafia. You roll your eyes, heart going almost a little too fast, but still obediently lift your hips up to tug your panties down and off, they catch on the weight on the way down,

“No need to be shy doll, I’ve seen it all before.” He winks, as he bends down to pick them up, glancing straight up your skirt as he does. You flinch a little at the sight of them in his hand, if you’d known Elvis was gonna be taking them home you’d have put on something a little sexier, but you can’t imagine that any change could have made his face more gleeful, as he stares down at the wet spot on them before slipping them straight into his pocket.

“You ‘member what you’re meant to be doin’ now.” He whispers in your ear, pressing what would look like an otherwise fairly chaste kiss to your cheek, before sauntering back up to the stage.

You nervously fumble the hem of your dress, delicately sliding a hand up, trying not to noticeably flinch as your fingers brush over yourself. You wonder if it wouldn’t have made more sense to slip your arm down the side of the wide arm-hole of the dress, more subtle perhaps? But all you can hope is that the the way the chairs are placed in front of you obscures your actions should anyone look back. From anyone that wasn’t up high on the stage. You can practically feel his laser focus up your skirt, you’re far enough away that you’re sure he can’t see anything in detail, perhaps not even the way your slickness glistens against your skin, but just the gentle motion of your fingers teasing yourself. There’s a clang as the metal inside the cuff on your ankle knocks against the chair leg and you freeze, anxiously glancing around to check no one had heard. Elvis’ head had whirled around at the noise from where he’s been talking to someone at the side of the stage and you can see the way his face contorts into a knowing smirk.

You didn’t think you’d be into this level of wanton exhibitionism, but the sudden fear that had jumped through you had translated straight into excitement, and you could feel the pulse of arousal swirling with the butterflies in your stomach. You brush your fingers more confidently, rolling your hips with the motion, not even really aware of how much your body was moving, but simply going with it. Your eyes briefly slip closed as you rub a singular finger down your self, trying to build the anticipation, but you can’t resist moving your hand to play with your clit when your vision clears and you witness him moving about the stage - dancing, thrusting. He pauses while they reset something - the mic perhaps, or the lights, and you can feel the thrum of your climax growing; the fear of being spotted, the sheer desire for him, the feel of your feet firmly planted on the floor, weights holding them down, enough to bring you closer and closer.

He starts singing again but if someone had had a gun to your head though you wouldn’t have been able to tell them what, and as you start to move your fingers again you make eye contact with him, swallowing a moan as you watch him attempt to surreptitiously adjust himself. You should feel embarrassed, you think, but instead a sudden boldness creeps over you at the evidence of his undivided attention, and you instead spread your legs wider, your skirt riding into the little roll of your stomach, completely exposing yourself. You run your fingers against yourself, feeling them slip as you gather wetness and drag it up, reducing the friction on your clit when you finally let your finger brush over it again.

Elvis is stood still now, ostensibly staying put so they could manually hold the lights for him to sing a ballad, but in reality in the perfect position to watch you. You watch his face flush as he misses a note, watching you finally dip your finger into your practically dripping entrance. You’re made away of the weight on your feet when your legs try to jerk and your body compensates by crunching in on yourself a little. Making it startlingly obvious to anyone watching, hopefully just Elvis, what you’ve just done.

You let his voice wash over you, and your eyes close as you go to add a second finger, thumb moving to tease your clit with little circling touches. Your climax comes over you suddenly and unexpectedly, a slightly unplanned harder touch directly over your clitoris and the combination of your fingers curling inside yourself sending shockwaves down your spine and belly. You continue to touch yourself through it - dragging it out for a moment. Until you just know that if you push yourself any further you’re going to scream and you have to slow the pace, gently stroking yourself as you slowly come down from the high. Your head had fallen back and with a little effort you manage to bring it back around, shifting yourself upright as you do.

When you make eye contact he winks, mimics licking his fingers, and you look down at your own sticky pair, before following his mimed instruction. You meet his eyes again and watch him trail off mid-sentence as his chest heaves taking you in, squinting under his glasses to try and focus on your fingers leaving your mouth. You make sure for a second that you let your tongue peek out, watching him gulp in response. Before hastily rubbing your hand against your dress, thankful for the colourful pattern that hides all sin. He sets the microphone back onto its stand, slowly, deliberately. Then, he motions you to the stage, and when you make no attempt to move, fear shooting through you that you’re going to be leaving a wet patch behind, he makes the request vocal.

“C’mere Bunny, can’t see you all the way over there.” You rapidly close your legs, weights knocking against each other, and sit stock straight as several of the boy’s heads spin to look at you. Elvis breaks into song, “C’mon and be my little good luck charm.” While pointing to a spot in the front row. You swallow hard, trying to make your limbs cooperate again, but it just looks like pure defiance, and he’s frowning at you when you try to plead with your eyes.

His tone changes, “Ain’t gonna ask again honey,” You flinch as several other heads in front of you turn around to stare. You trip a little as you stand, forgetting about the extra weight on your ankles and when you look up Elvis’ smirking straight at you.

“Can take them off now baby, leave ‘em on the chair, someone’ll clean it up later.” He winks and you suck in a gasp as you do as he directed, the implication of someone having to clean up both the weights and the seat of the chair. You can feel the heat in your cheeks at the complete lack of secrecy, with your mind all muddled you don’t have the capacity to consider that the other people in the room wouldn’t understand the double entendre.

“There we are, right there Bunny,” He points at the same spot again and you gratefully stumble down there, collapsing into it. You can feel your cheeks blazing and you clasp your thighs together, trying to tell yourself to just watch Elvis and not pay any attention to how wet you still are, or the embarrassment of being ordered around in front of everyone.

You sit there primly, for the rest of the rehearsal, ignoring your newfound nakedness under your skirt - unable to draw your eyes off of his wrists, his waist, now you know how those innocuous little white bands feel. Waiting to be dismissed, sent home - although you hope that you might get another invitation. He finishes, stripping off the weights as he’s laughing and thanking the sound guys - although shouting back at them as he stalks across the stage to where you’re sat to the side of the front row.

“That interference needs to be cut by tonight, it’s messin’ with my ears, I don’t care if you have to go out and buy a whole new fucking system - just get it done.” Despite his harsh words by the time he’s kneeling in front of you he’s smiling slightly bashfully. His eyes crinkling at the edges as he mutters to you -

“Don’t know why I keep ‘em around.” He offers you his hand, pulling with his suddenly weightless feeling arms to yank you up with him, clearly overcompensating without the weight, causing you to stumble with the force of it. His arm comes around to steady your waist. He stands there, legs spread and solid, holding you to him, brushing your hair off your neck to whisper in your ear.

“Wanna come back with me, honey? C’mon baby,” He’s pleading with you, entreating you to follow him, babying tone convincing you as if you even needed encouragement. “How - How’d you feel about, I got some things we could watch, we could, could - I sure would love to tape ya, baby.” You lean back, brow furrowing as your mind runs through what he’s suggesting.

(Director Elvis + Model Bunny)

But still, after some consideration you agree, and before long you’re relaxing on the bed with him, taking in the moments of quiet before he’s got to head out into the screaming crowds, performing for the pleasure of the girls and women. He’s magnificent in the flesh, masterful in his ability to command the ultimate attention of the audience. But still, as wonderful as it is to watch him, rhinestones glinting in the stage lights, you have to admit to yourself that you much preferred him in the somewhat faux intimacy of the rehearsal.

By the time you’re all filing up the steps to the plane once more it’s night again, looking forward to a short day-break for you all after the busy past couple of days. Elvis is exhausted, and though he’s gentle with you still you can tell he’s had enough. He wearily waves to the other girls, calling you over to ask for some food before disappearing. You push the cart into where he’s ensconced himself in the bedroom to discover him in the bathroom - door open, and you can’t help but take a peek. Your eyes catch on the little pill bottles lined up on the side, the man himself shaking seemingly every bottle possible into his palm until there was a little cocktail of medication contained in his hand. He takes them with a swig of water and jumps when he makes eye contact with you in the mirror.

“Jeez honey, make a noise next time.” His tone isn’t harsh, it’s not annoyed - but it is solid, serious. You frown, the floor was carpeted but the rickety wheels of the cart still made some noise.

“Oh, uh, sorry - didn’t mean to scare you.” You laugh a little bit in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. He doesn’t respond. “Uh, I’ve got, there’s hamburgers, and sandwiches and uh-“ He’s wiping his hands on a hand towel when he comes out of the bathroom, throwing it back onto the floor behind him when they’re dry.

“S’ok Bunny, that’s good. Just-just leave it over here.” He sits on the edge of the bed, pointing to a spot within arm’s reach. He’s in the tracksuit again, out of the jumpsuit from the show, out of the the sharp outfits you were now used to seeing him in. But he still looks appealing, if not moreso now. Soft, approachable and above all else - cuddly. He’s evidently exhausted, face pale after removing the stage makeup, and he shuffles back on the bed. He’s starting to slur his words a little as he reaches for a sandwich,

“Come. Come sit here baby… come sit here with me.” He pats the side of the bed next to him as he shuffles further up. You do so and he tucks a hand into the crease of your stomach and thigh, thumb brushing in circles, a gently squeezing grip.

“Here.” He holds out a sandwich for you and you take it gratefully, “Gotta…feed you up while I got the chance.” His head is starting to slip forward as his eyes fall closed. You pat his arm, leaning over to take the parchment out of his hand. He grips your wrist, forcing you to put your sandwich down too as he slides down the bed to lie down, tugging you into him.

“S’ok El, just, just close your eyes. You did so good today.” He hums, a little pleased noise like he’s somehow not used to being praised still. He pulls you closer, arm wrapping under and around you, pulling you tight to him.

“That’s it Bunny, that’s it, just - just gonna rest my eyes for a moment, doll. Be…be ready for action in a mo’ - just, ju-“ You shush him, his eyes were fluttering closed, arm clenching around you and you felt it relax a second later as he drops off into sleep.

There’s a few more flights scheduled, but they’re busy ones - short flights with barely enough time to get the men fed and watered, let alone enjoy any other kind of extracurricular activities - there’s a hasty blowjob and an attempt for the world’s quickest round of intercourse and that’s it.

There’s a break for a little while before he cancels the next flight on Big Bunny so you only see him once more, and that time he barely acknowledges you; exhausted from a show he locks himself in the bedroom and doesn’t appear until the plane is touching down. You wave goodbye to him, a little melancholy and hating yourself for wishing that he make some grand gesture to prove it had all meant something, instead he winks at you as he leaves down the steps, whispering a

“Thanks for takin’ such good care of me, Bunny.” As he went.

That’s the last you hear from him. For little over six months you hear nothing else. You’re almost immediately thrust back into the reality of the normal world and you’re kept busy enough that he doesn’t pass through your mind too often.

Occasionally, when you see a tour announcement pop up in the tabloids, or from a fan-club membership that you totally didn’t take out in a pitiful attempt to keep up-to-date with his life, you wonder about him. About whether you were a bit of fun to flirt with, to tease, to sleep with for a couple of days - a distraction from the real life, like all the bunnies were intended to be, or if he’d meant any of what he’d said. The thing is, even if you were curious, you could never know - despite being so intimate, so close to him; had he lied? Did he help every girl through a panic attack with meditation? There no longer felt like six degrees of separation between you, no longer like you were travelling in similar circles, there now felt more like a hundred degrees; what were you supposed to do; ring the operator in Memphis and ask for Elvis’ number? Pull Hef aside on the next flight and ask him? Don’t be so ridiculous, so clingy you tell yourself, disgusted at your inability to let it go.

Time passes, as it does, and though you somehow feel like you can’t escape him, ultimately you have. Months have passed and you’re busy - being promised a promotion, training a couple of new girls and it means that you don’t get to go home for what feels like weeks.

You finally get back to your apartment, relieved to be there for at least a week, with a stack of mail waiting as tall as your arm. You take your time enjoying the peace and by the evening it feels like you can relax for the first time in a long while, glass of wine poured, comfortable little short pyjama set instead of the bunny-approved corset or dress. You’re just starting to open the first of what looks like several catalogues of clothes you’ll never get a chance to wear when the phone rings.

You glance over at the clock, surprised that anyone would be calling you at half eleven at night, when as far as you’re aware none of your friends or family even know you’re home yet. You consider not answering, too content with your night, but it rings insistently so you drag the handset closer, accepting the call.

“Fuckin’ finally,” You’re immediately taken aback by the annoyed exasperation of the voice on the other end of the line,

“Where’ve you been?” You start to protest, to question who on earth is questioning you and explain that you’ve been working but the voice doesn’t give you the chance.

“Listen, Boss’ got a new plane, he’s uh, calling it the Lisa-Marie,” he shouts to someone on his end, “I don’t know man, thought it would sweeten the deal if she knew he’d already named it! Like - ain’t that what you’re supposed to do if you’re negotiatin’ - let ‘em know you have a name?” Right. So, Elvis. Someone is calling about Elvis’ plane. You’re trying to comprehend that when he continues,

“Sorry. Anyway, he wants you on it. He won’t hear otherwise.” He pauses, “Permanently. On call whenever and wherever he needs to fly,” As if he can sense this isn’t the most attractive prospect, “but you’ll uh, all expenses paid for, apartment in Memphis, the whole shebang, you’ll be well taken care of.” You take a second to process that,

“Uh, I don’t quite know what to say - do, do you need to know right away?” He chuckles down the phone at you,

“Well - uh, no, but, he’s goin’ on tour soon and we need the flights staffed by then so….” He trails off, and you know from your limited experience with Elvis and his methods that this means, actually yes, we do need to know right now, and we’re not actually giving you a choice. You take a deep breath, still confused as to why you’re getting this call out of the blue, thinking that you’re going to regret it if you do, regret it if you don’t.

“Oh, uh, ok fine - look I’ll be at one of the offices tomorrow; I’ll give you a call and you can fax me over the information for the dates and things?”

“No need, we need you by July.” You pause, that’s… barely a month away,

“Ok, I’ve got a three week notice period though, I can’t just -”

“We’ll take care of it with Hugh direct.” You laugh incredulously - is that how they think it works?

“Hugh Hefner isn’t my boss - how high up do you think I am? I’m a jet bunny for god's sake.” There’s silence on the other end of the line as if they'd expected you to feel cowed, or awed by their famous friend. You can hear them whispering before the voice returns, just as confident as before;

“Well, we’ll take care of it.” You frown but you’re not sure what else to do but agree - at least this way of something falls through you can claim you had no clue about any of this.

“Ok, but you’ll have to ask for Ellen at the office and I’ve got a notice of -“ You’re cut off by him,

“We’ll make it happen.” Well, you couldn’t say more than what you’d said - you’ll just have to hope they do enough that it all gets sorted somehow, and without totally burning all your bridges.

“Right, well then, -”

“Tickets for your flight on the 26th June to Memphis will be waiting at the airport. Someone’ll pick you up there.”

“Uh ok, um, well then that’s -”

“Thanks again, you’re a doll, bye!” The phone hangs up and you’re left holding the receiver wondering what on earth you’ve just agreed to.

——

It turns out you’ve agreed to a stewardess job pretty similar to any other. You’ve got a cute new little uniform, and it was indeed little, sleeveless and hem skimming the middle of your thighs but Elvis had indeed fulfilled his promise - it was stretchy. With a scarf around your neck and tall boots it almost didn’t feel much different to your bunny outfits. In fact it all would have felt quite similar if it weren’t for the sudden increase in responsibility you were facing. There was another girl who worked on board here and there, but whether as a cost-saving measure (although you couldn’t fathom the necessity considering the gold sinks on the plane) or simply the knowledge that one stewardess and the pilots were enough for a plane of this size you weren’t often put on the plane together. It meant that you were often working alone and solely responsible for the cabin. It was certainly an adjustment, you’d been safety trained before - of course - but you’d never really had to use it; the focus of your jet bunny role had pretty much been to cater to the whims of the people on board. Like a Barbie doll you’d had too many jobs to count, and the responsibility to look good while doing so. On the plane you’d had to be waitresses, dancers, chefs and bartenders but less so a safety officer.

And it’s so strange, you’d not been expecting much but you had been anticipating at least an acknowledgement, or something? But instead on the first flight Elvis collapses in a seat, clearly out of his mind and ignores you completely, There’s this, somewhat odd, hierarchy evident and you somehow just know that you shouldn’t approach him like this - trusting that his needs are being catered for by his entourage. But you can’t help but glance over at him, inspecting that he looks paler than before - almost sallow-like in comparison to the fit tan of the first time you’d seen him in the flesh. So you do your job, and see them on and off the plane with nary a word exchanged between the two of you.

You fall into this habit pretty quickly, flight after flight. When he’s awake his eyes skim over you, unfocused and never stopping for long. You hate yourself for how upset it makes you, he hadn’t owed you anything and yet you still feel like you’d signed up for something under false pretences. It keeps you up at night, wondering how you could have been so stupid - you’d given up a stable salary, a life and an exciting one at that, for this - for him. With every month that passes you’re more and more aware that you’re creeping towards your next birthday and the chance to return to Playboy in any capacity is dwindling. They aren’t shy about declaring there’s an age limit. You feel like you’re trapped, in a never-ending cycle - flight, sort the plane while they’re at a concert, flight, fitful sleep in a hotel, flight, flight, flight.

But then, like magic, two weeks before your birthday - two weeks before the deadline you’d come up with in your head to quit he notices you. He’d been looking better for a few days, on an upward swing or so it would seem, and seems significantly more aware than he had been. He almost does a double-take, as if seeing you for the first time. It’s then that, suddenly, Georgia - the other girl, starts to come on board with you a lot more frequently - taking care of the other guys while Elvis not so surreptitiously pulls you into his excessively decorated bedroom.

It’s not the first time you’ve been in there, you clean the damn place after all, but it’s the first time that you’re able to look at it with fresh eyes, through the lens of the awe of a girl being invited back there as a guest. You feel the bend of the fibres of the plush carpet underfoot, against the smooth sole of your boot.

He sits down, patting his thigh, “Give me your lil footsie baby, them little footsie sooties, put ‘em up here.” You look at him slightly askance, fondly, but still do as he asks, putting first one foot up on his lap, letting him unzip your boot, tugging it off and then your other one when he taps your ankle. He looks up at you, as he holds onto your foot, and you know you’re both getting flashbacks to that first flight, when he’d tugged your heels off, got caught in your pantyhose, the joy of that first time. He grips your wrist, forcing you to kneel onto and then shuffle across the bed as he tugs you while sliding back himself. Pulling you're both placed far enough to the headboard that he sinks down into a lying position and drags you down with him.

“Elvis - I, I, I don’t know what -“

“Shhh baby, don’t worry about anything, just, just feel it with me - you feel that?” He shifts to hold your hand, “Feel that energy? ‘S right between us darlin’ girl, right there.” You’re not really sure what he’s talking about, but you had been feeling the thrum of a connection, willing him to pick up on your silent desires, so you can’t deny a strength of feeling there.

“I feel it.” He hums at you, happily, still holding onto your hand, threading his fingers through yours and pressing his nose against your cheek. He nuzzles at you for a moment, starting off gentle and slow, before rolling you into him and catching your mouth with his. He’s sure of himself, pressing himself skilfully against you - you’re more than aware that this is a skill he’s nurtured, learnt - been judged upon, almost as much as his singing and it shows, it feels no different to the first time you’d kissed. A masterclass in the right moves, just the right amount of bite, just the right amount of tongue, and it makes you buck into him. You’re suddenly desperate for him to break out of the cultured practiced mould, feel him lose control and slip. You gasp, trying to provoke it in him, biting down on his lip a fraction too hard. He shifts his grip to your neck, clutching it to pull you back a little,

“Careful, honey, careful.” You can feel his lips move against your skin as he murmurs and it makes you shiver a little at the tickle of his breath. He kisses across your jaw, little sucking presses, before he returns once again to your mouth.

It’s hard not to assign more feeling or meaning to it than what it is, when he seems to do everything with such feeling. Not for the first time you wonder how it would be possible to be kissed at a concert and then have to continue to go about your life, acting as if nothing huge had happened, as if something totally earth-shattering hadn’t taken place. But then, you imagine, it’s probably not that different to what you have to do.

He pulls back a little, pushing himself up to be more on his knees than lying back, before he slips a hand down between you, pushing underneath your dress to pull at your panties, rubbing a finger on the outside. He pushes them against your folds, circling with his finger until a little damp patch is forming where he’s touching. He pulls them to one side, shimmying his hand underneath, a ring knocking against your thigh and catching on the fabric and your hair as he cups your mound. You reach a hand down yourself, brushing it over his trousers, but you’re slightly surprised to feel him still soft inside. He jerks his hand off of you, gripping your leg instead, shoving your hand away with his other.

You pat his face as it peers over the top of you, the creases in the corners of his eyes a little scrunched up in disappointment and his lips in a slight pout; as if he were trying to stop himself being upset.

“‘S ok El, You’ve still gotta perform tonight too -“ You go to tug your dress back down assuming there was no need for you to remain bare but his hand flies out, gripping your forearm and pushing it against your stomach.

“Take it all the way off,” You look nervously over at the unlocked bedroom door but obediently wiggle down a little, as best you can with his arm still locked over top of you to slither out of the dress. He shifts back down into a horizontal position, sliding himself further down, shirt crumpling with the motion, before gripping you with one hand on an arm and one on a leg, to hint at where he wants you to move to, tugging you until you’re in position, straddling him.

“El - seriously, I don’t think, it’s fine, it happens all the time it’s noth-“ He cuts you off by sharply pulling, with hands gripping right on your hipbones, you closer to him - forcing you to stumble on your knees even further up his body.

“‘Nough of that.” In that wonderful growly voice only he seems able to achieve, he lifts his chin up to press a kiss against your inner thigh. “Can still, still make you feel good Bunny, baby. Still make that pretty yittle cunt o’ yours feel good.” He yanks you so you’re perfectly placed, hands gripping the navy velvet headboard to hold yourself steady. “Just gonna have a lil taste, ok darling? Just needta give me a little more time. Let, let it kick in.” You nod frantically, although you’re not 100% certain what you’ve got to let ‘kick in’.

“Yes, god, yes. Sure.” The kiss, and his brief touches had been enough to turn you on, and you jerk as he holds your thighs to press a kiss against your now bare cunt,

“Oh, fuck.” Elvis laughs against you, and you can feel the vibration up your spine, thetickle sending sparks straight into your stomach. The sheer level of arousal makes you feel almost a little nauseous but you’re distracted by the feel of his tongue moving again, holding you tight to him with his grip on your thigh when the feeling makes you try to thrust out of his hold. You can feel twin bruises form from the thick bands of the ring on each of his hands and the twinge of pain when he lifts the pressure makes you gasp,

“Oh, Christ - Elvis, need, need you to,” You’re not sure if you were planning on asking him to let go, or hold you tighter - but you’re distracted by him shifting to suck down directly on your clit, briefly, just enough to make you choke on your own spit, before he releases, flattening his tongue and moving it down. Every time you clench or move you can feel his fingers digging tighter in and you can’t help but move, grinding onto his mouth and against his tongue. He pulls away, and you shift your hips slightly so you can look down at him, and your head tips back with a moan as he quirks a little grin at you. It’s utterly filthy the way his chin and mouth is glisteningly sticky and wet.

“You like that honey?” You nod, and he returns, surging forward to renew his efforts, your hips circling in response.

“Oh god, yes, don’t, oh, holy fuck, - don’t stop,” You can’t stop moving your hips, and part of you is briefly concerned that you might be suffocating him, but the larger part is more concerned with making sure he keeps licking right there until your building climax hits. His tongue is flicks between lapping at your vagina and your inner folds. Your hips are constantly moving and you grip the headboard even harder, feeling the fabric pile shift and flatten under your hold as he finally captures your little puffy clit in his lips again and sucks hard, reaching up to slip a finger inside you as he does.

Your lower back is starting to ache, thighs beginning to cramp but you can’t think about that, reaching down with one hand to comb through his hair, clutching at it as you thrust up and back, finally your climax rocking through you. He licks you through it, holding you open still, feeling you shudder around him, until you finally insistently tug on his hair enough to make him come away.

You dread to think what it must have sounded like on the other side of the door, the wet smacking having been all you could hear past the blood rushing through your own ears and you’re sure you couldn’t possibly have stayed silent. You watch him wipe his mouth with a sleeve, blushing the whole while before he slips out of the shirt. Fully exposing his bare chest and, finally, reaching down to unzip himself.

You’re sticky and soft when he reaches down, running a finger against you, opening you up to bump against you with his now, hard, cock. You’re not quite sure when it had happened, if it was a delayed reaction to a pill he took earlier, or if he simply was that turned on just by licking you to completion, but you’re not about to complain feeling how his head slips against your wetness, nudging at your clit before he angles himself down, bumping against your entrance.

“There he is, Bunny, got Lil’ Elvie here just for you baby, for my sweet lil - ah, bunny bun,”

Elvis pushes into you, a hand straying to stroke your labia on its way up to clutch at your waist, feeling the way you open up around him - for him. You groan at the sensation - it’s been a while, actually it’s been a long while; the last man you’d been with was the one currently pressing inside of you. He takes a moment to allow you to adjust, although you suspect it also allowed him a moment or two, either to calm himself down or encourage himself up.

“That’s it, honey, there we are, there we go, Oh Lord, here we are, I got you, gonna, gonna do such a good job, you just lie back. I got you, got -“

He’s fucking into you now, slowly, sweetly, accompanying each thrust with his mouth joining onto yours, and sloppy open-mouthed kisses against your jaw and neck. He’s trying to get the angle right, you can tell, but he’s decidedly less sure than he ever used to be, or least how you remember him. Taking longer to hit the right spot, and then almost immediately slipping away and losing it.

“Ah, that’s - that’s it, right there,” You almost cry out as he moves again, begging him in your mind to return to where he was.

Still, he’s not totally unskilled, and the motion of his body against yours, of the feel of his hand reaching down to play with clit, combined with the growling curses and praises falling from his lips, southern accent coming out harder as he loses himself in it, is enough for you to feel yourself start to shudder your way towards a second orgasm, clenching down onto him. That is, apparently, enough to set him off and he takes some time firmly rocking his hips into you, before, with a hand splayed on your tummy for balance, withdrawing fast to shoot across your stomach. He collapses there for a moment, lips in a pout and eyes closed from the sheer pleasure of the minute before.

He rolls off of where he’s pressed against you, where you’d welcomed being crushed under his weight, tummy pushed against yours, hairs tickling your own bare skin to flop onto his back. You watch his chest heave, eyes drawn to his tight little nipples, as he catches his breath back. You take a moment to swipe the cum off your belly with the edge of the bedspread, noting in your head to send it to the laundry later. You know you should be getting up to pee sooner rather than later but he’s holding out an arm to you, and you can’t bear the thought of refusing his offer. Instead curling into him with a sigh. He smells the same as you remember now, that same heady mix of sweat and sex, woodsy heavy cologne combined with the tint of smoke, and you hate how it sends flutters down your tummy again at how you feel a sense of familiarity from it. He murmurs into the top of your head, lips catching on your hair,

“You been here all along Bunny? Hopping around my plane?” You nod and you feel him grimace, “Didn’t recognise you without your ears, or your yittle tail.” You don’t mention that you very rarely wore ears on Big Bunny, and that he had in fact seen you both on and off the plane without them too. He tips your chin up to look at you and you make eye contact with his pair of guilt tinged blue eyes. Your nose wrinkles and he taps it with a finger, “Twitchy lil thing though still ain’t ya?” He pats your cheek, “Still gonna be my bunny? Ain’t got another bunny, got, got,” He stumbles over his words as he takes a breath in, clearly struggling to stay lucid enough to have the conversation, “got other girls, not got ‘Cilla no more, but got, got Linda … and, and - I got a whole list, baby, but no - you’re my only bunny.”

The thing is though, it’s never for long. You prefer the flights after a show to the ones before, he’s more awake before but he’s panicked like a tiger in a cage. It’s still difficult to tell what kind of Elvis you’ll be dealing with on any given night. There’ll be one flight where he’s perfect, drowsy from a show but awake and alert, flirty and fun, and then another where he sleeps for so long and so deeply that you worry he’ll never wake up. The worst are the ones where him and Dr Nick, his father or one of the other boys with that damned black bag disappear into the bedroom for the flight. He stumbles down the stairs after in a daze, clearly half out of his mind. The alternative - that you have to listen to his whimpering cries, that his body aches, that sleep won’t come to him - why won’t anyone listen to him? That he wants his mama, that everyone leaves him, “even my yittle yisa.” Is worse, it makes you wish for when he’s sedated or so over the top in his exuberance that you know his ‘vitamins’ have a lot to do with it. You don’t know how much longer you can silently pick up the pieces - cleaning up when he’s trashed the room in a rage, or left pill bottles littering the floor. Going in to him when he calls for you, acting as his waitress, nurse and on-call girlfriend all at once.

Linda accompanied him often, and you’re shooed out of the way of her keen eyes as they watch you a little too knowingly. She’s sophisticated and classy though, more than you would be in the situation. More than you are. You take the opportunity to swap with Georgia as often as you possibly can when you know she’s coming with him.

You’d avoided her too at first, often being the only one working on the little plane, not usually that many people on board - maybe ten at most, well within the capabilities of a single girl and the pilots. You hated that you felt the sting of jealousy, of worry that he was fooling around with her too, to the extent that when she, unprompted, had reassured you that she had not slept with him and nor would she ever sleep with him you had laughed it off. Pretending you had no idea what she was suggesting.

Linda though proved difficult to ignore. She was a presence - even when she wasn’t physically there - he was swearing to the boys they were through, broken up, done, and then would spend hours on the phone to her. He’d swear he didn’t give a shit about her anymore; just had to keep his promises to take care of her - but then a week later she’d appear on the plane with him. They’d sit cuddled together half the time, shouting and screaming for the other half. You had no idea how to react when she called you in to the bedroom, Elvis’ head pillowed on her thighs, dead asleep. She doesn’t ask you for much, a coffee and some water to be brought to them. You do so, still slightly surprised to be invited to intrude on what seemed like an overwhelmingly private moment. But then, a large part of your job is being invisible when necessary. You don’t expect to her acknowledge you when you return, but she does - she’s polite and courteous, but quiet, eyes never leaving his relaxed forehead. A cynical part of your brain wonders if it wasn’t intentional, if she didn’t purposefully call you in at that moment to prove she was different, but that line of thinking gets you nowhere. It’s not your place to be jealous.

Occasionally there’s other girls with him, you burn when Sheila comes aboard - you’d given up your cover dreams for this, and it feels like she’s the new kid in town - replacing you in every way. Better than you in every way, she’s pretty and lithe and young; you’re young and pretty too but you’re feeling it less and less. She’s above you - in the privileged position to sit at the side of the King while you have to settle for serving him and her. She had the cover, you had gotten pouring the drinks into branded glasses.

Elvis didn’t help how you felt - the first time she came on board he took it upon himself to personally introduce the two of you. He was sat with his legs spread wide, Sheila’s own legs over the top of his, an arm tucking her tight against his side out in the lounge area, the public display of affection almost too much for you to witness.

“Here she is!” He called out when you came around the corner of the half-dividing wall, and you balk a little before steeling yourself to walk over,

“Here I am.” You respond, flatly. He’d been particularly difficult recently, and your patience was wearing thin.

“Looksies - this here is my Sheila,” He raises her arm, she nods politely, “She’s - she’s a bunny too, she was on the cover.” You smile, what else can you do?

“Oh - wow, congratulations.” You nod at her, she’s silent.

“Two bunnies on the plane! My two bunnies together!” He laughs, and the tone and words immediately make you smart. There’s a cruel edge to it that you don’t quite understand, it’s not like you’ve ever turned him down or refused him, not like you’ve done anything to be treated second best - to have her paraded in front of you.

It makes your skin crawl, furious with every decision that led to this point, cursing those pretty blue eyes that you couldn’t refuse. Makes your skin crawl that he’d sworn you were his only bunny; and as ridiculous as it might seem, the evidence that that wasn’t true at all, that it was an empty promise makes you cry yourself to sleep for too many nights in a row. The first time you’d found a notelet, tucked under the bed having perhaps fallen out of a pocket or book,

“To Sheila,

Love you allways,

E.P.”

You take two weeks off, and debate whether you should even return, if it’s worth how it makes you feel. You don’t have time to see anyone else, and you’re not dating him. But then in some ways it makes sense all your emotions would be put onto him, you weren’t physically seeing anyone else, in general, exclusively cocooned in the Elvis Presley Show bubble. There is, you think after three glasses of red wine at home in your fancy new Memphis apartment, nothing else in your life. There is only Elvis. You wonder if you can use that as the excuse on your notice. You make yourself go back though, determined to get a grip of yourself, of your feelings, give it one last try.

It’s short-lived with Sheila, at least from your perspective up in the air above the reality of the ground below. Ultimately, you feel you somehow won. And although he may, every now and again, bring some pretty young thing up into the air with him or have Linda come on board during some of the tour he’s fundamentally alone again - the same group of men his only constant companions. You form your own opinion of them, watching two of them cringe at the sight of the little black bag of pills and needles and two others writing his signature out on blank cheques.

You’re horrified, making eye contact with Charlie, you think, you know their names now you need to start to use them. You open your mouth to say something, but uncertain about what, but he catches your eye, shaking his head and you wonder if there’s anyone on this plane willing to stick up for him. You’re forced ot consider if it’s something you can do too - turning a blind eye to all of this or if you’re going to be forced to leave because you were unwilling to do so.

But then, there’s a few months where he behaves differently, and he looks different - his face brightens up, and though you don’t dislike how he looked before you can appreciate that he’s slimmed down a little, looking less bloated than he had before. A renewed interest in the happenings of the group. Suddenly, he’s interested in you again - ensconcing you in his bedroom, telling the boys to stop telling you what to do or asking you for things,

“It’s not her job - her job is looking after me.” And you do, distracting him as best you can when that’s what he’s after - reassuring him when it’s not. You have to talk him down from a panic at one point and you’re thankful to have the memory of him calming you down to use as your guideline, even if you find irony in being the one trusted to provide the measured breaths.

The sex though, is still almost non-existent; he apologises constantly, and at one point you try to have a conversation about it, lying with him in the bed, cuddled together.

“I’m not your girlfriend, E, you don’t needta explain yourself to me,” He hushes you,

“You’re my girl as much as any of ‘em.” It’s your turn to stroke his cheek,

“I don’t need to be, you don’t hafta say that to me.” He just hums at you, tucking you further under his arm and cupping your face to his chest. That’s when the gifts start rolling in, before you’d even arrived back at your apartment for a few days off, finding on the doorstep a gift bag filled with lingerie. You smile when you see it, but you’re a little puzzled - he’s not even seen you in your underwear in months. Was this a hint? Were you meant to be the one putting out? You took it as you thought he intended it, picking out and wearing the little white set you found in there, but you were unsurprised when nothing came to fruition on the flight. You tentatively bring it up the next time you’re curled up next to him - the flight not really long enough to justify a nap but happy to be tucked up in his chest. You’re drawing circles with a fingertip through the gaping neckline of his shirt, absentmindedly thinking of how best to bring it up.

“El, what’s -, not that I’m not appreciative but you don’t needta buy me things - especially, especially if you’re not gonna get anything out of it.” You refuse to look at him, anxious for his response.

“Wasn’t that what you told me before? That you don’t dress for me?” You can feel him already grinning at you in anticipation of your reaction and you laugh, surprised he’d even remember that conversation from a year and a half ago.

“Well, You weren’t really my boss then.” He chuckles, wrapping his arm tighter around you,

“Oh-ho, so I can have my wicked way with you now huh?” He squeezes you hard against his side. You giggle, and he continues - his tone turning more serious; “Honey… - Bunny,” he laughs when you squirm at being called bunny still, “I’m just, I can’t, can’t do more at the moment but I uh, I do still - I like thinking about you all pretty for me unner that tiny little scrap of a dress.” He flicks the hem, leaving his hand grasping the back of your thigh and your respond in playful outrage.

“Scrap! You picked out this dress!” You smile into his chest as you feel his tummy move with his laugh, “Elvis - you don’t owe me anything, I don’t need to be bought things, you don’t need to feel like we have to do anything. I just, just want you to take care of yourself.” He hums at you, as non-committal as one can be.

He shifts a little so he’s lying on his side, brushing his hand down your body, fingers fumbling as they graze over your core, he seems remarkably less sure of himself than the last time he’d touched you, and you have to wonder if, despite all these girlfriends hanging around, he hadn’t actually been doing it with them either. Whether it’s because his fingers are a little thicker than before, or his skills are simply rusty, or maybe this is all some new technique he’d thought he’d try, he seems to take a while to do anything. He slips a finger between your folds, gathering the wetness you’d started to feel drip as a pavlovian response to his fingers anywhere near you, and rubbing it up your pussy but when he reaches the apex he seems to struggle, fingertip roving around, rubbing down but not quite finding your clit. You squirm as he continues to rub around just a bit too low, his finger making you pant simply from the virtue of it being Elvis’ finger, but not because of success with his ministrations. You panic, eyes flying open, wondering if you’re gonna have to fake it with Elvis beforehe pulls his hand away with a grunt.

“Ain’t no good little, my hands are hurtin’ too much tonight, got them, got them shakes again.” You nod even though you know it’s at least partially untrue - his fingers not in the least bit unsteady, if anything they’d been a little too solid.

“Just, it’s fine to just cuddle El.” He’s silent beside you for a few moments,

“One sec doll, lemme just -“ He shakes his arms out, staring at the curvature of the plane ceiling as if he’s trying to talk himself up. “Ok, ok Bunny, lets, lets give this another go.” He captures your mouth in his, sucking gentle little bruises across the bottom of your jaw, and lowering himself down to your neck. He concentrates there for a moment as he dances his hand back down your body, shifting your dress up again. His touch this time is more sure, more similar to how he’d always felt, the confidence appeared to be back.

He circles your clit just right, the two fingers curving inside you hitting just the right spot, and he moans with you,

“C’mon darling that’s it, oh that’s your lil button isn’t it - let me, just relax into me baby, relax, I’ve got you.” He crooks a finger, and your hips jerk, his other hand reaching over to pin you firmly against the bed while he takes the opportunity to brush directly over your clit once again. You squeal, panting, as he whispers into your neck,

“Such a good girl, good little baby Bunny, c’mon now,” He croons into your ear, voice unmistakable, “C’mon - for me.” His words, the sight of his face, the feeling of his fingers, it all combines so that in mere moments your back is arching off the bed, clutching at his arm as you tip over the edge.

When you’re back into the land of the living, and your breathing is starting to ease up a little, you’re able to sit up. You get onto your knees for him, expecting to reciprocate but he shakes his head at you, “Just, just lie with me, mama, let me cuddle, ‘s that alright? No-one lets - everyone wants somethin’ offa me.” You frown, standing up, his words manipulating you into believing you’d even asked him for something,

“Sorry El- there isn’t, there’s no pressure from me, I just thought because -“ You gesture to his still clearly wet and sticky fingers, “Just wanted to give it back to you.” He huffs, lying down again, and looking over his shoulder at you. Betrayal written on his face. It softens when you clamber back under the covers with him, and he tugs you closer.

It goes downhill fast, the tours just keep coming, and the random, sudden desires for trips here and there. You’ll be home for a scheduled three, four week break and get maybe 60 hours before a call comes in - he wants to be taken to Colorado, California, to Vegas. Before you know it you’re careening into 1976. He swings like a pendulum from happy to angry - the emotions impossible to keep up with. He wasn’t ever wholly staid before but everything seems suddenly emphasised and the erratic nature of his personality is making you wonder if you can do this job much longer. It’s worse without a girl on board. Linda and he may have argued but he was almost always easily soothed. But she’s coming on less and less, and he’s telling tales about her more and more with the boys. Expressing how he hates her shopping now, how she deserves it but doesn’t earn it, how he can’t stand her nagging. He seems to have more girls than ever before, one or two picked up for him in every city, but they never seem to make it onto the plane.

Without the settling presence of a girlfriend that role falls to you, and although you’ve now spent countless hours with him it’s different; the fits and starts with which you get to see him is completely different to being a girl who’s able to be with him in his home - you find him almost overwhelmingly difficult to manage. The first time he’s brandishing a gun and threatening to shoot you for attempting to put him to bed, you laugh - not expecting to be essentially thrown off of the plane for weeks for such an indiscretion. It doesn’t get mentioned again - not until a while later; simply brushed over, forgotten about. There’s no apology, just suddenly one day, a bashful joke gets made with Elvis tucking his chin to his chest to look at you shamefacedly but almost immediately he cracks a laugh, and you’re forced to laugh it off with him.

His health swings like his moods, it seems to be entirely dependent on a number of factors that all seem to change within a minute’s notice. It’s a combination of his mental health, the exact cocktail of medication at any given time, the number of shows he was doing, how often he was getting to see Lisa, whether he’d been home recently, the financial situation or whether he’d recently liked how he’d looked in the mirror. As soon as any one of these changed it would either send him crashing into lengthy highs or a period of lucidity.

You didn’t sign up to be a nursemaid - it wasn’t the role you were expecting to fill but as time goes on it seems the only form of relationship you can have with him. You don’t truly mind, although you do wish for more, if he’s going to let you have this part of him - the part of him that’s sad and lonely, the part of him that he’s ashamed of - even if just for a few hours on a plane where he can pretend to be distinct from real life, then you think you deserve the same relationship back on the ground. But you would never broach that with him, not even when he’s alone, or when he brings a girl on board who doesn’t even make it to the next city. All you can do is stay.

The last part of the year is particularly hard. He looks awful, you only really get to see him directly after a show, the schedule doesn't allow for more spare days in each spot, and the sweat pores off of him. You can’t say he doesn’t look appealing in some ways, you wouldn’t mind licking him clean, or crawling onto his sweaty chest. But in other ways, his face growing paler and yellower, it makes you cringe away from him. It’s not that you don’t want to spend time with him, or that you’re disgusted - a fear he’d mumbled into your stomach one night recently, it’s that it’s so difficult. Difficult to watch a man, so otherwordly virile to succumb to earthly decay. It’s almost painful - and it’s made all the worse by the fact that you’re only given the choice to witness it in fits and starts - over a tour you watch him, keeping a close eye, spending hours alone with him. But then, as you land back in Memphis, or Vegas, or California you lose him again - with no idea of how he’s getting on physically or mentally, no idea of how he’s feeling. He grows distant - and all you want is to make his journey easier, although the destination at this point is unclear.

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

TAGLIST:

i’m just gonna tag anyone that’s specifically msged me about it and/or anyone who commented/reblogged the last two chapters - there’s one last chapter to this ‘verse coming soon(ish) so lmk if you wanted to be added or taken off the list before then :))

@ellie-24, @whositmcwhatsit, @thatbanditqueen, @vintageshanny, @doll-elvis @18lkpeters @prompted-wordsmith @richardslady121 @meetmeatyourworst @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @a-literal-no-name @elvisabutler @precious-little-scoundrel @eliseinmemphis @iloveelvis @literally-just-elvis-fics @livelaughlove-talia @angelborn1

#elvis smut #elvis x reader #elvis fanfic #big daddy elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley x reader #be-my-ally #elvis x you #big bunny #big bunny vibes #be my ally

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scftpcws · 1 year ago

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hii ^.^ Im heavily obsessed with fics that have something to do with angst, so i’m requesting sensitive! reader getting into a heated argument with Eddie which causes her to cry. This is something I relate to so it would be wonderful if you could do something like this!!

Hiiiiii!! I hope i did your request justice.. icl im not the best at writing angst but i swear i rlly did try with this one!!

A/n: Also a bit of background info, Chance ( a character mentioned in the story) is just a background character in Stranger Things season 4. He’s just so cute and i like him a lot. He and reader are just friends i swear. he doesn’t like her in that way dw!!

He’s so babygirl oml 😭^^… anyways.

Forgotten | Eddie Munson

Eddie Munson x Sensitive!Fem!Reader

Warning: Angst, Mean!Eddie (it’s justified), Jealousy, platonic!ChancexReader, Mentions of the basketball club, fluff, reader is referred to as a “princess”, Kinda Mean!Gareth and Mean!Jeff (it’s just for the plot pls don’t come for me).

Face it Eds, she’s just not coming.” Jeff spoke, patting him on the shoulder. They had sat waiting for Y/n for 15 minutes now. Eddie’s face displayed an expression of anger, almost as if to say “Shut the fuck up!”

“Maybe realised that you guys are too different, and she’s embarrassed to hang out with us.” Gareth laughed, obviously joking. Eddie didn’t see it that way. He rolled his eyes, a rather rude comment on the tip of his tongue that was quickly extinguished as Dustin pleaded for the campaign to begin. Eddie played it cool the rest of the night, hoping the guys were wrong and that she had just stayed at home that night and been unable to call.

Unfortunately for Eddie, Y/n wasn’t at home; she was in fact a few doors down, cheering on her friends at the basketball game.

As the night ended, Y/n and Chance made their way to his car, excited smiles on their faces as the cool night air swirled around them. “I can’t believe we won!” She exclaimed, adrenaline flowing through her as the thrill of the Tigers win coursed through her veins. “I’ve not seen a shot like that since.. well ever.” Chance smiled, running a hand through his dark hair as he reminisced about Lucas’ legendary winning shot during the final seconds of the game. He giggled at the excitement of his best friend, his smile only growing. “Do you need a ride home?” he asked, fumbling in his pocket for his car keys. She quickly waved him off, explaining that one of the girls had already offered to take her home. He smiled, and embraced her in a hug before jogging back to the guys to kickstart their celebratory party.

“Y/n?”

Her ears perked up at his voice and and she turned toward her boyfriend, seeing a somewhat defeated look on his face. “Eddie? What are you doing here, if i knew you were coming i wouldn’t have asked Tina to drive me home.” she giggled, hopping into his van and moving to hug him. Eddie shrank away from her, shuffling back against the door. “Eds? What’s wrong?”

“You missed it.” he stated quietly, looking down at his lap. She gazed at him, confusion in her expression. “What are you talking about?” she asked, trying to get him to meet her eyes. He turned his face away from her, attempting to hide the way his eyes glossed with tears.

“The DnD campaign? Y’know, the one i have been talking about nonstop for weeks.” Suddenly it dawned on her. She realised what he was talking about.

“Hey, i’m sorry. It’s just that this game was important to Chance and the campaign totally slipped my mind.” she explained, reaching a hand out to touch his face, he moved away from her again. Her brows furrowed as she pouted. “Yeah well this campaign was important to me y/n. It was really fucking important and you blew me off for some guy.” He responded, his voice raising slightly as he refused to look at her.

“Chance isn’t just some guy Eddie! We have been friends since we were in diapers, you can’t just expect me to ignore all my friends for you.” she scoffed, how could he say such a thing? He finally looked her in the eyes, his sadness turned to anger at her words. “I’m not asking you to ignore your friends! I’m asking you to act like i’m your boyfriend because i’m not sure if you noticed, but i am!” He seethed. Her bottom lip shook as her eyes began to gloss over with tears.

“Do you know how fucking hard it is to watch as you pour all your love and attention into your friends and leave none for me? You don’t even look at me in school, we only talk at night, it’s like all this is some bullshit game to you. When you’re sick of being a pretty princess with all your cool friends and your big ass house you come to me to get away from it all, like im some sort of distraction! Well newsflash Sweetheart, I’m a real person with real fucking feelings!” She had never seen him like this before. Sure Eddie could get loud and expressive but this was something else. Everything he said burned into her heart, his words causing her eyes to well with tears and her hands to tremble in her lap.

“Are you embarrassed by me, by us?” he mumbled, his anger reverting back to sadness. He turned to face her, and as a tear rolled down her cheek, a tidal wave of guilt flooded through him.

“Baby I-“

“Is that what you think? You think i’m embarrassed by you?” she murmured, her voice wavering as her head hung low. He reached out to cup her cheek, an apology on his lips. She flinched away from him, tears streaming down her warmed cheeks.

“I’m not ashamed of us! You are the only guy who i’ve been with that lets me be myself, my true, authentic self. I can’t do the things i do, or say the things i say with you with anyone else, Eddie! We only talk at night because I have to pretend to be this perfect girl all day and it’s the only time i feel free from my life. And I don’t talk to you in school because im afraid of what those guys will do to you if they find you with me! I do everything i do because i love you and i love being with you Eddie Munson. I have never been embarrassed by you. Never.” She ended with a choked sob, her shoulders quivering as she cried into her hands, the tears wetting the hem of her sweater. She reached for the door handle, ready to leave, before a calloused hand fell on top of hers.

Eddie placed his other hand under her chin, his thumb wiping the tears from her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to yell at you. I’m so sorry Sweetheart. I was just hurt that you forgot about me tonight and i shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I should’ve talked to you properly, y’know, not like a madman.” he chuckled at the last bit, attempting to lighten the sullen mood that had befallen them. She smiled softly, sniffling as the tears continued to stain her face. “Why didn’t you tell me you felt that way?” she mumbled, avoiding his gazed despite it being laced with love and affection for her. His smile dimmed a little, his thumb resting just under her left eye.

“I was afraid if i ever brought it up my worst fears would be confirmed.” he said, a sad smile gracing his pink lips. “What? That you’re guitar was stolen?” she joked, her heart swelling at the soft giggle that emitted from his lips. “No. That the only girl i’ve actually properly cared about didn’t love me the way i loved her.” his eyes found hers, the dim light of his van making them sparkle as the hues of brown swirled in his irises. She was taken aback by not only his beauty but the genuine love that poured from his words and seeped into the very core of her being. “I love you Eddie Munson. I don’t care whether you’re a basketball player or a loser that plays DnD, You’re my Eddie. And no amount of popularity is gonna change that.” she whispered, bringing his face closer to hers, their lips almost touching. He stared down at her lips for a moment before connecting them to his own, all his love for her seeping through the kiss. They moved slowly together, savouring the taste of one another, her hands quickly finding solace in the softness of his cheeks and jaw.

As they parted for air, Eddie placed another soft kiss to the back of her hand, look up at her, a gentleness in his tender gaze. “I’m sorry for hurting your feelings baby. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I know how easily word’s affect you and i’m so, so sorry for not thinking. Can you forgive me sweetheart?” he pleaded, placing another kiss to her hand before moving to placed their foreheads together. The smell of her shampoo and the softness of her skin annexed his senses and blurred his mind with the thought of her.

She pressed a simple kiss to the apple of his cheek, mumbling a quiet “You are forgiven” before encapsulating him in another breath taking kiss.

“But don’t ever yell at me again Munson.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it Baby.”

#eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #angst #eddie munson angst #stranger things #stranger things 4

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popponn · 6 months ago

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hi dear, hru? if i could eat your theme for breakfast, lunch and dinner I'd die a happy human it's super cute and crunchy even though i forever will memorise the green themes you'll still manage to pull it off

BUT i genuinely need your opinion on bllk side characters (shidou, ness, aiku, barou and maybe karasu) rate them spell your favourite and last favourites because I'm ready to set up a chair with side of tea and listen to them rambles :3

im currently running away from deadline hello. pls don't tell them im here bae : D (i really need to lock in);;;; my love, as someone whose country is full of sour strawberries you kinda scare me. but i heard overseas strawberries are sweet tho so!!! also girl :(( im :((( wait im bad with praises but pls know i love ur themes and u especially skskdhfsf

now. to my bullshit. (please do know YOU are asking for this okay ^^) so while i put my yappings down the read more to spare some poor souls, tldr: honestly i cant really pick faves simply because my ass is indecisive as hell and i constantly switch rankings lololol and like when it comes to fictional character honestly as long as they manage to catch my eyes (whether by being amusing, complicated and so on) they are immediately an okay to me. and bllk is pretty good at making entertaining charas no matter how much of an asshole they are. so, yeah, this ranking rn is more of "what i can see from whatever spotlight was given to them and how much it makes my personal taste raises an eyebrow character-wise rn": aiku > shidou > ness = barou > karasu (give crow man more spotlight im begging)

shidou: honestly he is like. a force of nature himself. and also remember that one trivia on why he cries? yeah, that trivia honestly raise him up so much in my eyes it's kinda insane. but he is hard to write because i do n o t get him. i wish i do tho, he seems interesting and he praised isagi. already a pretty cool guy in my book, if we ignore the whole other package on the side but hey what is someone without spice. solid 8/10. the fact the first person he really kinda gets on with was sae is also hilarious. like talk about not seeing it coming. common knowledge that bllk side charas deserves more screentime bUT BOY. does this guy really deserve and need it (going back to isagi for a bit but i really want to see isagi work with types he really clashes with like shidou and reo. not even as a simp, but isg is our main pov so. like. isagi dissect this guy's brain pls. or hey light novel pls)

ness: despite his whole relationship with isagi i don't wanna deck him the same way i do to kaiser. absolute soggy wet meow meow to me, whoever calls him babygirl has taste. if i have to say anything is that i really hope his growth will be outside of kaiser. when a character is connected to much to another character in a canon setting, let's just say i can see why people like it but i prefer it when the narrative forces them to face the horror and save themselves in one way. honestly, a goofy guy who i wish to see develop more in the same way barou did. like we know kaiser will (unless the plot twist is twisting) but seeing a character like him who gets stereotyped as a "masochistic, dependent sidekick" by most getting more dimension and spotlight? yeah honestly i really want that. but for now... yeah im sorry but my personal score is 6/10 (but i really hope he will rise up because him being a dark horse in the narrative will be a breath of fresh air honestly)

aiku: i left bllk the first time right before u20 so let me tell you how amused i am when this guy is more than what i expected. if bllk wc team doesn't have him as captain im asking ego WHY. like as a captain? aiku really got my respect. like his canon cheating aside, one of the most decent dudes who can admit their faults out loud. if bllk was about defender instead of striker he would SHINE as a main rival. he kinda already does tho. the whole cop roleplay with isagi was so funny in an amusing way. honestly i really like his writing as a character. very mature, but his selfish bet was really telling of the another side of his character too. 7.5/10. minus point because i cant write him and im mad about it!!! (aka in all serious: 8.5)

barou: first time reading bllk, when isagi chose him i think it becomes one of those moments that really cements bllk. like?? the canon fodder villain who usually was just relevant in the first arc???? become one of the main rivals now???? also he is so housewife and why lmao. also put him and rin in a room. it will either end with a massacre or just them ignoring each other. honestly tho, he is funny to me because this guy has the Deep Voice but then he opens his mouth, call himself king, also dye his hair before uber vs bm match, and i remember how he truly is lmao. also the bowling and his whole dynamic with nagi are so entertaining. like nagi doesn't have to try to piss him off. hilarious. as a chara, 7/10, minus point simply because while dating him in rl sounds like a healthier option, i like my man a blaring red flag. on field a 9/10 because his whole asshole personality comes out and things get interesting

karasu: this guy is like. i am really mixed about him because i think fanon give him more dimension and raises more interesting points than canon has done him so far. but honestly, considering self aware he was and the rare moments the series gave him? he is an interesting character to have in a sport manga. this guy is realistic as shit, and he is also very self-aware of his own downsides. like. read his trivia. this guy is interesting honestly. another one i wish will work with isagi simply just to see more of him. also he is such a little shit but he is funny about it so it's okay. so, yeah, canon wise i don't really can say much about him (yet? idk). but there is this version of him i seen in a gen fic from the red white holy websites of fanfic that just makes me: yo. i wanna see more spotlight on this crow. so uhhhh 6/10 too?

#babblings #rosie if you read all this just know you are amazing #also this was a nice break thanks bae #god this was kinda long but that is the art of yapping #im kinda sticking to canon and its impression a lot for this haha;;;

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rayshippouuchiha · 2 years ago

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Ray, light of my days, i have cometh to you with my unwanted opinion on Boruto. It's long and has pictures, so I think it's a proper presentation when you ignore the fact I'm very bad at those. So, the plot is shit, we all know that at this point but let's ignore that for a hot sec pls

Look, Studio Pierrot does what it wants (I'm not happy about it, I'm pretty sure none of us ever were)

But Mikio Ikemoto would be bitchless and maidennless at the highest caliber if it wasn't a known fact that Japan has a big fucking problem with both pedophilia and taking sexual harassment seriously

I mean look at this shit!

So in conclusion I'll stop clowning this suspiciously pedophile acting motherfucker the moment he stops lewding prepubescent little girls in his internationally followed *cough*clowned*chough* manga series while both highlightling the fact that the little girls he's lewding are drawn well before puberty hits and therefore look like children with their very fucking intentional round faces and chubby cheeks and ignoring the grown ass women who are both fair game and already had a thirsty audience and making them look like children too

I pray every single day that Boruto somehow gets revealed as a Madara-induced dream state

#RayRambles #Naruto

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acourtofthought · 1 year ago

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Okay beside the fact that right now Azriel is not an ideal love intrest we can admit that he is loyal to his friends and family? that much is clear.

SO WHY THESE E/RIELS THINK THAT HE WOULD TURN HIS BACK ON HIS FAMILY FOR SOME GIRL WHO HE MET FOR 2 YEARS AND ONLY FEELS LUST FOR!? Like it's some kind of a revenge from IC (specially Rhys) bc they won't let them be together and honestly were did that came from?

It pisses off every time that someone mention it. Like no, trust me he will never do that!! He will never turn his back on his 5 century family to be with her. He gave up after Rhys told him to stop whatever he was about to do and it was never mentioned throughout the story and we know he's a little rebellious towards orders so if he REALLY wanted to be with Elain it would've happened. (And pls don't tell me it was from Nesta's pov it's was from Cassian's too and he knows his brother or sjm wouldve found a way to mention it)

They're so aggressive and embarrassing!! They don't even know the characters they're dealing with. The ONLY thing that they care about is these two characters become a couple... to what end!? For sjm to change her whole plot line and characters!? Will it really be the story yall fell in love with?

Oddly enough I was thinking of this exact thing this morning.

The IC is the only real family Az has really known for the last 500+ years. His mother is still alive but she's not a regular part of his life (from what we've seen so far). But he and his brothers have loved and fought for one another for centuries. Rhys sacrificed his body for them for 50 years. Rhys sacrificed his life for his friends and family by dying for them in ACOWAR. But suddenly Az is going to throw that friendship out the window because Rhys is a big bad meanie who won't let him have Elain after Az's refusal to tell Rhys he's over Mor and doesn't want just to screw Elain?

I think it's an immature mentality that thinks love between two people is all that should matter because when you enter into an actual adult relationship, you do realize that love isn't everything. Your relationships outside your significant other are still just as important and to some extent, the opinions of those that love you and know you best aren't something to ignore.

If your love has to burn every bridge in your life then it's not healthy. I'm not talking about failed relationships that were always toxic and that you learned to walk away from. I'm talking about friends and family who have always supported you but because they sense your fixation on someone isn't healthy you become defiant and oppositional and develop a "screw you! I'll do what I want!" mentality.

I think Rhys only wants happiness for his brothers but he KNOWS that the way Az is behaving is concerning. He KNOWS Az needs to really deal with his feelings for Mor before moving on with anything else. And he KNOWS the things Az is saying about Elain is not the way you're supposed to think about someone you really care for.

The take that Az and Elain will defy everyone and prove their forbidden love is glorious and right is so in the opposite direction of SJMs underlying theme of found family that she puts in all her books. It means that the entire E/riel book will be them lying to everyone around them. It means they don't care about hurting others because they'd rather sneak around than try having conversations with the people that are owed conversation.

#anti e/riel

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ssreeder · 1 year ago

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WE’RE BACK IN BUSINESS BABYYYYYY

hi sreedie :3

fuck you sreedie no zukka cuddles >:(

but also… maybe not fuck you, it depends on what we DO get in this chapter… you’re on THIN ICE

on another note, I love jee <3

surely just like employ some of the kyoshi warriors to be dishwashers??

pls tell me why when rasu was like “I can sniff whatever I want” I immediately went COCAINE T-T

oh ?? jee what did you DO omg spill bestie

I KNEW jee was a slay, he’s also sus of iroh’s methods

LMAO jee wdym you “know that prince zuko was not into men” literally HOW would you know that information T-T

but anyways yes I’m loving that the hair touching is making a COMEBACK bc I absolutely adore how the fire nation views hair and all the glorious nuances that come with it ughhhhhh… now I’m mad again about shen being dead bc his reaction to the haircut sitch was ICONIC

YOOOOO JEE NOTICED IT TOO SREEDIE I THINK JEE MIGHT BE MY SOULMATE HE ALSO SAW HOW SOKKA HAS ABSORBED ZUKOS PERSONALITY TRAITS WHILE ZUKO IS OUT OF COMMISSION

not jee being offended about the perceived slight agains his cooking skills-

here come the iroh thoughts… I will add them at the end (or potentially in another ask??? I don’t want this to be more mammoth than usual)

OH SHIT OH NO OH FUCK OH ZUKO IS GONNA FIND OUT THAT JEE KILLED SHEN oh okay at least jee has some common sense !! good for him

LMAO not jee being a gossip queen (truly my soulmate, this is actually why we got divorced sreedie you can’t compare)

“dumpling boy” ohmygod obsessed

A TEABAG why is that fucking hilarious pls tell me you have some kind of fire nation lore behind that insult

the reading scene is so sweet ;-; and like I know from second hand experience that being read to when you can’t read yourself is a Huge Deal bc when my cousin had a major back operation our aunt read to her for HOURS daily and it literally bonded them so much. so like, very important scene sreedie you’ve got me in my feels (and I’m WAITING IMPATIENTLY for rasu and zuko to become besties again)

wow the “delivered” part is so gut wrenching. that’s really the tragedy of war isn’t it? everyone just becomes a pawn unless they’re one of the chess players themselves

LMAO not the kiddos getting into fisticuffs upstairs and disturbing one of the most politically tense conversations in the fic

OH SHIT HAKODA LETTERS OMG THE PLOT IS PLOTTING SREEDIE ITS PLOTTING

ohnooooooo stop I’m so fucking sad about hakoda and thinking katara was ignoring him on purpose STOP

ah fuck sokka trauma reveal xxxx

literally so siblings to have bled and shit on each other. something something I’ve had the worst parts of you inflicted on me but I have to love you anyway

sokka trauma time !!

damn baby’s first kill… forgot about the warden tbh

“everyone is always trying to kill zuko” so true bestie they should stop!! stop trying to kill zuko fr omg!! (read that like that one tweet where that white girl was telling isis to stop terrorism lmao)

“what sokka had experienced had layers” LIKE AN ONION please why am I unable to take anything seriously anymore it’s bad

CHANG CHANG CHANG CHANG is the chang bato ship called chato or bang OMG BANG THATS ICONIC love that we’re sticking with it

(in case it wasn’t already obvious I love chang btw)

lmao chang said end sexism in the grumpiest grouchiest way possible

ykw I’m a fan of?? the fact that hakoda has the brain to plan like sokka but the resources to plan like zuko and I think that it’s fucking hilarious

“speak for yourself I’m in fucking agony” I LOVE CHANG I DEDICATE MY LIFE TO CHANG I GIVE CHANG MY WHOLE HEART

ohohohoho sokka you are actually going to be CLOSER to zuko isn’t that dandy

omg eve ;-; our lovely forest lesbians ;-; that you MURDERED

NO ZUKKA CUDDLES BUT ZUKKA WAVE??!!?!?! call me a masochist but I’m enjoying this. anyways.

ZUKKA AND CHANG REUNION OMFG I WILL CRY especially zuko chang reunion ;-; (do Not get me started on my feelings on chang vs iroh) ((jokes I will be talking about in a soon to be sent ask))

also obsessed with sokka having active beef with jee and jee is just like… this kid needs therapy ~cue rbf~

YES MY BBYGORL AZULA READY TO FUCK SHIT UP (but yeah can she pls hold off for a tad longer thx sm <3)

okokok I’ll get onto my iroh thoughts now (in another ask.. bc uh.. this is Huge) but that’s gonna take a hot minute bc I have to become Coherent.

also no longer sick!! for now. (I probably should’ve gone to see a dr much sooner anyways but too late now ig)

HUGS KISSES AND A DRAMATIC HAIR FLIP TO BID YOU FAREWELL <333

*dances on thin ice*

OLLLOOOOO LEEKIE

Yes Jee offend the group of women warriors by asking them to come wash dishes hahaha…. Nice one leekie!

Jee sailed on a ship with Zuko for 3 years… & during that time his gaydar must have broken (I feel like we can blame Zuko for breaking it somehow)

Oh iroh…. You silly silly man <3

I think rasu reading to Zuko meant a lot to him so hopefully baby steps in the right direction ;)

Hahaha it’s ok the onion joke & the sand joke legit never stop…. Damn it media for influencing words so much.

Haha Chang iroh interaction is something I’m looking forward to. It’ll be INTERESTING ;;);)

Ok leekie I’m sorry I know I said I would respond yesterday but I’m a horrible person and this is why we’re divorced! GLAD YOURE NOT SICK ANYMORE WOHOOOO

*sprinkles germs in your food*

#gotta keep things interesting ya know #I am curious your thoughts on iroh #I fucking lovvveee writing Chang #I’ll have a Sokka pov and he is like ANGST ANGST ANSGT ANGSTTTT #Then it switches to Chang and he’s like fuck off baby girl #damn I’m looking forward to Chang Zuko reunion lol #idk about the chang Sokka reunion though #Sokka is not very understanding right now #& yeah he thinks Chang is dead so he hasn’t had time to dwell #but when Chang shows up alive…. ahhhh #it could get rough #I love the drama so it’ll be fine ;)#LOVE YOU LEEKIE #LIAB #ITF #hiiii leekieeeeee #leekie tag #ASK

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avese23 · 2 years ago

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Ever have fandom niches you feel for wholeheartedly but have no desire to insert into canon?

What made me think of this is the black hunter rabbit hole I was blessed by. The headcanon stemming from the characterization of hunter in the show and the fact that his VA Zeno Robinson is black. And I remember the points made were so good and I love this for fanart and AUs but black hunter would be so messed up in canon. Ignoring for a second the full Caleb backstory— the imagery of this transracially created grimwalker is terrifying (worse than that miraculous special where that white woman politician hero creates a robot child in the imagery of a black girl. Which. 👀🫣). And then finding out that hunter is a recreation of Belo’s brother is a whole other thing. So in the context of the show and their end storyline of white colonialism being the real villain the show as is makes most sense. Hunters race is relevant to his character. But outside of that? In fandom where Belos doesn’t have to matter? Cuz honestly his face reveal was canonically boring why are we keeping this man relevant. In fanon??? Hunter is a brother 😌 send me your designs and I will cosplay it, anything so I don’t have to make his wig highkey

On a similar note stuff like the silver trio, or even the golden trio. Or actually just most Harry Potter character dynamics, they only work in fanon and that’s why fanon flourishes. Fanon silver trio x golden trio where they’re all gay for each other? Heck yeah. I’ve even seen some ronmione fanon depictions that I can tolerate where they give him the ability to care about others and not be a misogynist, and instead have him with normal flaws that can promote an arc. Bless fanon. Marauder era fanon rarely breaks canon but is also basically its own universe seperate from canon at this point.

Fanon works that write Marinette/Ladybug as an actual teenage girl and not a plot device masquerading as a person??? And she’s likable because she’s not written by a white dude who has not sorted through any of his problems?? Yes pls. Cuz she’s a character we want to like but hurts to be on screen and is does messed up things in a messy writing way that doesn’t address the problems at hand

#I don’t have enough braincells for hw help me #avese shares a thing #toh spoilers

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your-daily-biaswrecking · 3 years ago

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I wanna say that namjoons dad bestfriend drabble was so freaking hot….🥵🥵🥵 maybe part 2? 🙏 when they make out in family house of yn? And her dad is next room 👀 i am so dirty pls forgive me😂

can't believe it took me so long to answer this... okay, so, my requests are not open but i decided to clear up my inbox a bit, starting with this one. as for this part 2... i know it could have been just a short scene with pure smut, but i wanted the drama of the plot, okay? also i'm not doing another psa: this is wrong and pls don't do this, it's just fiction

part 1

Namjoon knew he had to stop this. This... Whatever it was the two of you had. He had found excuses to come see you multiple times throughout the winter, always missing you too much and being unable to stay away for too long. But when you surprised him, secretly coming back to your hometown to be with just him for a week, he wasn't as happy. It was the first reminder of how different your worlds were; he was a grown man minding his career, at an age where he should be seeking marriage and kids. And you? You were skipping school to see your crush.

"I think my daughter has a boyfriend," his best friend casually told him one day soon after that. Namjoon froze, his heart the only thing reacting to those words. But his friend went on nonchalantly, pointing to his ignorance. "I don't mind, of course. I've only told her one thing, and it's not to get pregnant. I don't want her to go through what her mother and I went through, you know? She's at this age... you know? She needs to enjoy her age."

Namjoon... The grown man who should be seeking marriage and kids was fucking this girl. All those times he came inside you, filling you up a little too aggressively– as if deep down he wished he'd knock you up and keep you to himself forever.

He had to end this.

When he told you those same words –you need to enjoy your age, you need to be with a peer– you seemed more mad than hurt. But perhaps you understood. You weren't stupid, you too knew this was wrong. Perhaps you were just waiting for it to happen, waiting for the excitement of doing something against the rules to die out and the realization of the responsibility to hit him. You didn't blame him. But you were still annoyed. Stopped talking altogether, the only news he got from you now came from your father. You did get a boyfriend, or so he was told. And you were doing well with your studies and you were generally living a great student's life.

Summertime and you were here again. Along with your so-called boyfriend. Namjoon was so pissed off when he saw the skinny, mussy, sweaty boy that seemed to either be very slow or high off his ass all the time. And you seemed pleased with yourself.

"You really had to bring him here?"

You chuckled– an evil laugh, he thought. "I thought you'd be happy to see me dating someone my age." When your eyes met his, you made him feel like your positions were switched. So confident while he was almost throwing a tantrum. "What about you?" you asked. "Dating anyone your age?"

On that topic, Namjoon had more than enough women showing interest. And your father, for some reason, was dead set on finding him a wife. All those blind dates he had to escape from! He was simply not interested. He didn't want to admit it was because he was still thinking about you; that no one else would ever be a good replacement for you. He didn't want to because he didn't plan on coming back to you; he had to be the adult, the mature one, and stay away. It was the logical and the right thing to do. He didn't want to admit that, despite all of his intelligence and reason, he still thought about you... Because if he did this would no longer be just some attraction, just some fucking around. If he admitted it was more, what would happen then?

No... this was good. You had already moved on. Enjoying your life the way you were supposed to, a life he had no room to be in. All he had to do now was follow your example.

"Namjoon..."

That text was sent past 2 am on a rainy night in October. The only text he had gotten from you in months. That was all it said yet it made his stomach tight as if you had moaned his name in his ear. As if he knew exactly why you had texted him; needy in the middle of the night, that measly boy surely unable to satisfy you, knowing exactly who could help you at that moment. Fuck... Perhaps if he replied right then things would go back to how they were a year ago. He didn't. And you didn't text him again.

"Joon! You are staying for the holidays, right? You should spend Christmas with us." Your father was more than happy to share that day meant to be with family, with his best friend. Namjoon was like family anyway, wasn't he? When he tried to come up with an excuse, the other insisted. "See? If you were married now you would have someone to spend Christmas with, but you're not, so you'll come to spend it with our family. My daughter's coming home tomorrow, too. Ah. Could you pick her up 'cause–"

"No. I can't. Too busy."

The man laughed. "It's okay. But I am expecting you for dinner on Christmas!" he said with a pointing finger. "I'm not taking no for an answer."

And so there he was. Sitting right across from you at the table. In the months that had passed, you had gained some weight and he thought you had never looked better. Your face a little fuller, your jeans straining against your round thighs and hips, your breasts fitting your curves just right. The body of a grown woman. All Namjoon could think about was feeling you against him again. And he was mad again... Did your stupid boyfriend have the chance to fuck you like that? He didn't deserve you.

"You didn't bring that boy with you this time..." he commented.

"What, Eric?" your mother answered for you. "They broke up."

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, eyes never leaving yours. "Really? How come?"

The corner of your lips turned upwards. "He was just... Too much of a kid."

He hated the way he sighed in relief, the way excitement bubbled in his stomach. He shouldn't be as happy to hear that as he was... He glanced at you again, your hair that had grown longer pushed back to expose your neck. It was getting harder and harder for Namjoon to keep his mind from wandering off to inappropriate things. Along with other parts getting hard.

And then your father spoke. "Joon. You know she's graduating next month, right?" His eyebrows shot up high on his forehead because no– no, he didn't know that. "She's looking for an internship and I thought–"

"Dad..."

"–you could help her get in your company? Maybe you could put in a good word for her?"

"Dad!" Your tone and the way your eyes widened towards your father's way betrayed the fact that the topic hadn't been new, and that you were clearly against the idea.

He looked at you until you finally turned back to face him. And surprising both himself and you, he said: "Yes, of course."

"I'm going to sleep," you announced after the dinner was over and you had helped clean up the table. You gave Namjoon a long glance before you disappeared down the hallway. Your parents had moved to the couch, TV on for some music and a game of cards keeping them busy when their friend asked to go to the bathroom. And you heard a soft knock on your door. "I'm assuming you know that's the wrong door you're knocking at," you spoke before you opened. Already in your sleeping outfit that consisted of an oversized t-shirt and just your panties.

"You knew it was me?" Namjoon whispered, eyes still stuck on your thighs.

"My parents don't knock."

You let him in, closing the door behind you and leaning on it as you looked up at him through your lashes. You both stayed silent for a moment, your breaths the only thing filling the empty, badly lit room. You noticed how he wet his plump lips and bit them while he was examining your face. So close you could smell his aroma, the one you never forgot.

“You don’t have to… you know,” you spoke, referring to your father’s idea. “I know you want to avoid me.”

Namjoon exhaled from his nose as if he was annoyed. “I- It’s not that I want to…”

“I know.” You gulped, finding your mouth wetting too much at the wish of kissing him, along with other parts getting wet. “You don’t want to— you have to.” You dared place your hands on his chest, and instead of pulling away, he leaned into your touch. Feeling his heart beat fast under your fingertips like the way he was breathing. He was slowly losing his mind but he knew he wasn’t the only one. “You don’t have to push me away,” you continued in a low tone. “I know what I’m doing. I’m the one coming to you.”

“Little one…” he rasped, and it had you catching a moan in the back of your throat. Oh, how you longed for his pet names, his voice calling to you lovingly. He stepped even closer. He knew he shouldn’t be there, he shouldn’t be doing this right now… But how could he stop? He wanted you so bad. His hands cupped your cheeks, lips just a breath away from yours, brushing against you as he whispered: “Come work with me… I wanna see you every day.”

The fabric of his shirt pooled in your palms as you grabbed him, closing the tiny gap between you. Both of you sighing in a mixture of relief and impatience as your lips crushed together. The softness only lasted a few seconds before you were moaning and Namjoon was pinning you on the door, deepening the kiss by slipping his tongue in like he was trying to devour you. Your arms wrapped around him while his hands traveled down your body, groping you like you were his stress relief toy. Your hips, your ass… He broke the kiss and buried his face in your neck.

“Ah- daddy,” you whined, grinding on him.

Namjoon felt like he was about to cry. “I missed you so much!” he choked out right before latching his teeth on your skin. Your naughty fingers were struggling to unzip his pants quickly and it made him chuckle instead of sob. “Fuck—” he growled. And he pulled back to stare at you with dark eyes. “Such a little slut, so desperate for my cock.” There he was; the Namjoon you knew so well. His words made you shiver.

“Please, daddy. I need you right now.”

He placed a hand on the door right next to your head, while he freed his dick with the other. “Your parents are right outside.”

Ignoring his words, you discarded your panties and took him in your hand, biting your lip. “I can’t wait any longer, need you to fuck me right now, plea-ase!” you whined a little too loud and Namjoon growled, grabbing your legs and lifting you until you straddled his waist, back on the door.

“Gosh, you’ll get daddy in big trouble, baby.” Tip of his cock brushing your wet folds, making your mouth drop. “They might come looking for me.”

“Quick,” you sobbed. “Be quick, please, just— ah!”

He slipped inside and you both gasped. Your legs were shaking at the feeling, eyes rolling back and a moan as quiet as you could manage rumbled through your neck. He got as deep as he could, face scrunching as if he was in pain. You kissed him.

“I’ve missed you, daddy. I’ve missed this so much.”

His head was spinning as he was trying to find the right words, the words that could describe exactly how he felt about you. “I- I-”

Laughter echoed through the house— your mother. You both froze. Namjoon glanced at the doorknob, and then he grabbed it; your parents could walk in at any moment. He didn’t stop though, nothing could stop him now. He angled his hips and started thrusting into you; fast and sloppy because the clock was ticking.

“Daddy…” you mewled, unable to do or say anything else.

Namjoon clasped a hand over your mouth. “Shh,” he demanded. “You better not start screaming like the little whore you are, or they’ll hear us.”

His words had the opposite effect of what he wanted; making you moan harder. And the fact that he had his big hand over your mouth made you not care to keep quiet. Your choked whines along with the wet sounds of his dick slipping in and out of you could definitely be heard from the other side of the door, perhaps even from that couch your father was on had it not been for the music.

“Shit, you—” he growled. He finally dropped his hand from your mouth, wanting to grab your ass to lift you higher, fuck you better.

Your head fell on his shoulder before you decided to bite down on it to stop yourself from screaming as Namjoon’s thick dick drilled into you with no mercy. “So-o good…”

“Yeah?” He sounded out of breath already, yet cocky. “Did you forget what it’s like to have a real man fuck your pussy, baby? That little boy didn’t do shit, did he? He can’t fuck you as good as daddy, right?”

Your nails dug in his back and you felt your brain so rotten like he was about to fuck you to sleep. “I… don’t know…” you mumbled.

Namjoon stopped. He pulled his head slightly back but he couldn’t see your face. “What?” Your body squirmed, trying to chase that high he had just denied you. “What do you mean—”

“I don’t know what he was like,” you whined. “I only thought of you.”

Another laughter, loud voices coming from that couch. It didn’t scare him that much this time, his heart was already racing and he only gave that direction a glance before he was pulling your head back to look into your eyes. Only then did he notice the tear stains on your cheeks, and you sobbed, choked as he thrust into you again.

“I only thought of you, daddy…” you repeated with a whimper. And it had his eyes rolling to the back of his head, pumping into you a couple more times, hard, before he spilled his seed deep inside.

A whisper. “Fuck…” Panting and groaning as he was trying to come to, and you watching his glistening face as he grimaced and bit his lip. He let you down, resting his forehead on the door while he still struggled to collect himself, and you basked in the pride it gave you. You tucked him back in his underwear and zipped him up with a smirk on your lips, seeing how he finally started to be able to focus his eyes on you.

You opened the door slightly and peeked out; your parents were still playing cards on the couch, they didn’t notice you just like they probably hadn’t noticed how long Namjoon was gone for.

“You should go back,” you whispered as you came back into the room. Namjoon kissed you quickly like he was trying to catch you off guard. And then he grabbed your chin, staring down at you, breaths still coming out too hard.

“Don’t fall asleep, baby. I’ll come back to finish what I started when your father goes to bed.”

You smiled, pushing him slightly back yet he wasn’t budging. “Go…” you prompted as you started feeling his cum sipping out of your cunt and slowly running down your thighs.

Namjoon smiled too. “Really. I’ll eat you out till you pass out, baby, I promise.”

In the dark of the room and the rush of the moment, you decided you had no reason not to let your thoughts slip out. “I wish you could just come to sleep in my arms.”

He got a little serious. And he kissed you again, slower than before. “I’ll see what I can do.”

He left through that door, meeting your parents that were happy to see him yet didn’t even bother to point out his long absence. Sitting next to his best friend while his breathing was still shaky from fucking his daughter.

Shit… That girl will get him in so much trouble…

Masterlist

#bts #bangtan #namjoon #rm #kim namjoon #request #drabble #fanfic #oneshot #smut #dilf namjoon #bts drabble #bts smut #namjoon drabble #namjoon smut #namjoon one shot #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #kkklaudiaaa17

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delicrieux · 4 years ago

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point!

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

��Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!!

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fic #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #quackity #dream smp #corpse x y/n #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader

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