#sorry editing again MY CLOTHES ARE FALLING OFF. MY PANTS FALL OFF.

[maletomboy]

well i threw up!! time to eat an ice cream sandich

[kaysungshine]

Redamancy ['red-a-man-sE] noun ;a love returned in full

Part II out now!

{ Pairing } - idol!bangchan x staff!afab.reader (with a hint of bestfriend!jisung?)

{ Genre } - NSFW, the trifecta (s/a/f), frenimies to friends to lovers? idk but we'll get there in the end

{ Synopsis } - Han Jisung is your new bestie & technical colleague, of course you befriended the rest of his members. Group nights became a tradition, & tonight involves liquor and drinking games for the first time. Truth or drink?

{ WC } - 6.7k

{ Warnings & tags } - 18+ MDNI, NSFW, smut, angst, fluff, drinking, breath play (choking), swearing, dry humping, use of 'babygirl', mention of wet dream, talk of edging, talk of domming, talk of choking, talk of exhibitionism, all of ot8 is suggestive af when they drink, reader and jisung are PLATONIC I promise they're just touchy, they're all giggly drunks so overuse of laughing chuckling and giggling, chan is kinda dumb in this he just... is in denial land but we'll find out more about that later, unrealistic work scenarios, unrealistic dorm setup? idk lol

{ Disclaimer } - This work is in no way associated with the actual skz, and is a fictional piece. I DO NOT own Stray Kids, this fic is just influenced by them!

{ A/N } - Okay I know I took forever to post & this intro is hella long & I'm sorry! Once again, I will say this is my first skz fic. I come from the world of AO3 & dramione. I am out of my comfort zone lol. First time posting stories on tumblr too! So if I missed anything please let me know <3 there will be a part 2, I've already started writing it! The plot is weak af, but gimme a few more stories and I'll find my groove. Promise! Unbeta'd, be gentle with me ♡

It was supposed to be a relatively chill Saturday night, so you were excited. You just got off work, and had arrived at Jisung's. He swung the door open smiling and pulled you inside, into an immediate hug. Everyone said their greetings, and then Jisung went immediately to whining.

"Finally, what kept you so late?"

You took your shoes, mask, sunglasses, and hat off, letting your curls fall down your back. Then you unzipped your sweatshirt, shrugging it off your shoulders and exposing your fitted white tee. You gave your jacket and bag to Ji so he could put them away. You always arrived in 'disguise', in baggy clothing so that no one suspected anything. Though you thought it was ridiculous. It doesn't matter how baggy the sweat pants or hoodie is, there's no hiding the curve of your ass.

You were a content editor at JYPE, and had become really good friends with Han Jisung. Friendships between idols and staff certainly aren't forbidden, in fact they're encouraged to an extent... as long as no lines are crossed. But it's pretty much an ignored rule. Anyways, you were a small 'behind-the-scenes' employee, not a manager or assistant or makeup artist. Not anyone directly involved with any idols. No one off the street knew who you were. Still, over the last almost year or so, you and him became besties. You frequently shared meals together at work, had sleepovers, you even went camping. You were basically glued to each other. It could easily be taken the wrong way by the media and fans. Hell, it gets taken the wrong way by co-workers, other idols, and even his group members. Although they've mostly accepted that's not the case. It's a given with the way you two act though.

Your relationship is definitely platonic, confirming pretty early on that neither of you felt anything more than friendly love for each other. But you both love teasing the other suggestively. You suppose that's partly why you two got so close so quickly. Your personalities are so similar, it's like you share the same singular brain cell sometimes.

"Editing, per usual." You finally reply with a sigh, "We had to cut A LOT out of nexz's new video. They're so high energy, they slip up a lot, especially with the swearing, but nothing we can't handle."

"Gotta love kids." Chan snorts while sipping a beer.

You smile awkwardly in response and look around the room. Everyone is here, all with their preferred beverages, and chatting away or scrolling.

Ji comes back with a drink for you, he knows you're partial to tequila and always keeps it on deck. Normally, you spend every weekend you can together, which sometimes is not as often as either of you would like. Sometimes you'd both head back to your place, and just have all nighters, binge watching anime and gorging yourselves on junk food. More recently, like tonight, you get invited over to hang with him and the rest of the boys.

It usually results in a few drinks and a movie, or talk about work. Sometimes you just play music and talk and vibe, or try to cook food together when you get the munchies... Which more than likely results in Minho taking over because he just can't help himself. However the nights play out, they're always fun, and you're gradually getting closer to the rest of the members too. Although no one can compare to the bond you have with your Jiji.

"I don't wanna watch a movie tonight, my eyes hurt too much." He starts complaining.

"Poor baby." You tease and run your fingers through his hair, laughing.

"When are you two just going to come out with the fact that you're in love?" Seungmin asks.

You roll your eyes, "When dwaekki's fly."

"I can easily make that happen." Changbin laughs.

"We could play a game?" Felix suggests, already looking flushed from the alcohol.

Jeongin gets excited, "Let's do a drinking game! It's been a while."

"I don't believe I've ever played a drinking game with y'all."

Hyunjin hums, "Mm, you haven't. Mostly because we get crazy, we've never brought up the idea."

This piqued your interest, "More crazy than I've already seen? I don't think that's possible."

Minho chimes in this time, "You forget we're a group of men sometimes, I swear. Mix alcohol and suggestive games, it definitely gets 'crazier' than you've seen, inappropriately crazy."

You level him with a smirk, "I'm down."

"That's my y/n!" Ji says, while pulling you to sit in his lap, "Fearless."

You giggle and lean into him while Minho just narrows his eyes at you and purses his lips. Something tells you he's up to something, but you're ready for any challenge.

"Fine. Then we'll play something easy, truth or drink. If someone refuses to answer, they drink. Whoever finishes their drink first loses." Minho says.

"What does the loser have to do?" You ask.

"Pay for everyone's lunch every day for a month!" Changbin says.

"Deal." You say. 

You're an open book, Ji knows this. There's no question you won't answer.

Everyone is up now, getting new drinks & refills before the game starts. You can't help but notice that Chan didn't get up, he looks a little nervous for some reason. He was always the most worried about you being around so much. In the beginning it definitely came across like he didn't like you. Now you know that's not the case... you think. He tolerates you now to say the least. You couldn't blame him too much, he was just protective of his boys. You actually found it incredibly sweet, or maybe it's just that stupid soft spot you have for him.

He always tried to keep you at arms length from the group. Not wanting anyone to get too close to you. Until Jisung put him in his place, as best he could anyways.

You were in Ji's lap, watching Spirited Away. He was drawing imaginary lines and shapes on your back, while you rested your head on his shoulder, facing the tv. His head was resting on top of yours as well, and a blanket covered you both.

Chan walked in seeing this, and nearly had a stroke. He said we were being inappropriate. And specifically made it a point to tell you to be more professional as a member of the staff. Short version: know your fucking place, you're overstepping. 

You scoffed at him, prepared to confront him about his growing disdain towards you. Let him know he's the one being inappropriate, downright childish. But Ji nudged you onto the couch and got to him first.

It was kind of cute watching him standing there, ears becoming red and getting in Chan's face. Cute in the way that it was like a maltese puppy trying to stand up to a doberman. Then he proceeded to yell at him about how he was way out of line. Saying he was being flat out disrespectful and that he was done with the ridiculous way he has been acting about you. The last thing he said was that he didn't know what got into him, and that he'd never seen this side of Chan before. 

Chan was silent, looking intensely into Jisungs eyes. But he never backed down, so Chan poked his tongue to his cheek, then retreated to his room for the whole night. You had to scoop Ji off the floor right afterwards. He had let his knees buckle, and fell to the floor once Chan was gone. Citing that he wasn't sure he was going to live through the night to see the morning sun. Typical dramatic fashion for your best friend. But you soothed him, fluffing up his ego about 'defending your honor'. His words, not yours.

As that night went on though, the tiniest bit of worry coursed through you. Chan hadn't come back out. Not even when the other members came home, trying to knock on his door to greet him. Or when the food was ready to be served, you had even given knocking a try. Only after Hyunjin begged you to, because 'He already doesn't take care of himself. He needs to eat.' No, you didn't see him again that night until you had already walked out the front door. He slipped out behind you shortly after, grabbing you by the wrist and stopping you. 

You thought he was going to continue the argument for a moment, but no, he was apologizing. Not much more was said afterwards, but his apology was genuine and heartfelt, so you accepted it. You two ended up hugging it out, and thank goodness no one saw that, because it was incredibly cringeworthy. He had no more major issues after that. But he was still unexplainably awkward around you, but it's not like you were any better. You two simply didn't know how to interact with each other for longer than 30 seconds. And that was pushing it. You suspected that might not ever go away. He likes to keep his walls high and strong, and you're stubborn at times.

But of course,  despite that stubbornness. You developed some sort of feelings towards him. Feelings you refused to acknowledge, well tried to refuse. You would push those feelings down deep within your heart, put them in a little box, and tape it shut trying to forget it's there. There was no need to pine over the man, he had stay to do that for him, and who knows who else in his life. Somehow that box always ended up ripped open again.

There was never a reason to act on these feelings. Not to mention, you think you'd be breaking SO MANY rules. Putting your job, his job, hell everyone's job at risk. Or worse, making a fool of yourself when he would downright reject you.

You keep watching him, now he's shaking his leg up and down, seeming agitated. Maybe he just doesn't want everyone getting into a vulnerable state of mind while playing? Maybe he's worried somebody will say or do something wrong? That someone will cross a line, as he loves to say?

Trying to ease his negative feelings, and extend yet another olive branch. You toss a throw pillow at him, hitting him in the chest and pulling him out of his thoughts.

He looks at you, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, and you just chuckle nervously at him saying, "Don't worry, it's like Vegas. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."

"God how fuckin' corny was that?" Ji teases you, poking your side making you giggle more.

To your relief, Chan is laughing with you, and shaking his head, "I just want them to behave."

"Oh relax, we're all grown. We're all friends. So we'll get to know each other more intimately, big whoop." You shrug.

"Mmm..." He replied, before raising his voice so everyone could hear him, "Whatever is spoken about tonight, doesn't leave this room."

"I swear you're the one with anxiety sometimes, not me." Ji mumbles.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah... dad." Hyunjin says as he sits next to you and Ji.

"As if that announcement even had to be made, I swear, and you wonder why we call you old." Seungmin comments.

Once everyone is settled in with their drinks, Minho directs Chan to start the game.

"Jisung, when was the last time you cried?"

He laughed, "You're trying to embarrass me because you know it was this morning, but I am confident and secure in the fact that I am a sensitive man."

He said the last bit with his hand over his heart, and his eyes closed, effectively making everyone chuckle.

"My poor baby, why were you crying?" You question teasingly.

"Please don't bring it up, he'll start blubbering all over again. Stupid, sad, dog rescue videos." Seungmin mumbles.

"Minho!" Ji shouts, pointing at him dramatically, "This question is for you. If you had to kiss someone in this room on the cheek, who would it be?"

"Hyunjin." He said bluntly, making you and everyone else laugh while Hyune just rolled his eyes.

"Would you kiss me back?" He asked him, eyes full of hope and bottom lip jutted out and pouting, trying to act cute. And succeeding, honestly.

Hyunjin acted like he was pondering the question, but ultimately was the first to take a sip from his glass, "I decline to answer."

He looked to you next, a suggestive smirk on his face, making you the next victim, "Y/niiieee..."

"Oi, be respectful." Chan scolds immediately, not liking the look at all.

"All I was going to do was repeat the question!" He said defensively, "Y/n, if you had to choose, who would you kiss on the cheek?"

You tried hard to keep your eyes from trailing over to Chan, a tingly feeling spreading across your skin at the mere thought of innocently kissing his cheek. Instead you chose the easy answer, because it wasn't a lie. You'd also kiss your best friend on the cheek any time.

"My Jiji of course," And you took his face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks between your middle finger and thumb, and plant a loud smooch on each of them, "he probably only asked because he wanted one anyways."

He just chuckles, letting you baby him and Seungmin fake gags.

"Minnieee..." You pause trying to come up with a question, "when you dye your hair next, what color would you want?"

"Green, my entire head green."

"That would look interesting." You laugh.

You all go 'round in circles for a few rounds, completely forgetting about the rules of the game. Having now finished your glasses from casually sipping throughout the game, most of you have switched to occasional shots. You're starting to feel warm and tipsy. Of course the more you all drank, the more the questions started to get more... amorous. Which is exactly how you all assumed this game would go. No wonder Chan was so anxious.

However looking over to him now, he's definitely having a good time. Like every other person, he loosens up while drinking, but tonight he seems even more so.

"Y/n," Chan starts with a sly look making your skin buzz again. Among all of you, he is 100% the most inebriated right now, "when was your first kiss?"

"Yah! He tells us to be respectful, but look how he is after a few drinks!" Changbin yells laughing.

Chan loses it, "You're right Binnie, you don't have to answer or drink." He says in between fits of squeaky laughter. 

You think you could listen to him laugh all day.

You shake your head and snort, "I've answered worse questions playing this game before. I was 13 when I had my first kiss."

Hyunjin nearly spits his drink out, because again, no one is drinking just as punishment anymore, "13?!"

"Well, yeah, it's a pretty normal age in America... I think..." you started to blush, "why, how old were you?" you ask Hyunjin.

He hesitates, but eventually he spoke, "I was 18."

The rest chime in saying they were also 18 or 19. With the exception of Felix who said he was 16.

Without even thinking you start to say, "Aaah, see I was 18 when I-" and you're abruptly stopped with Ji's hand slapping over your mouth.

Your eyes go wide, caught off guard, but understanding as you almost blurted out unnecessary information. Nothing that Ji hadn't known obviously, it's just that everyone else doesn't really know you on that level. 

"Jagi, you only had to answer the one question, adding extra info, that's not how you play the gaaaaame." He says in a sing-song voice, "Hyunjin it's your turn to ask someone."

"No no no no! What was she going to say?" Chan chuckles.

When you looked at him, he winked at you, and you had to stop yourself from going limp in Ji's arms. He knew damn well what you were going to say. Why is he teasing, no torturing you like this?

You peel Ji's hand off your mouth to respond "It's not your turn, you'll have to wait to ask me that."

The group starts laughing and shouting, teasing Chan who is ignoring it all, just staring at you with curious eyes and his tongue in his cheek. Does he know how hot he looks doing that?

"Okay, so then I'll ask you. What were you going to say?" Hyunjin asks calmly, trying to fight the smile off his face.

You pour yet another shot, and knock it back thinking, what the hell, "I was going to say I was 18 when I first hooked up with a man."

Some members looked surprised, the game taking an obvious turn. However Hyunjin, Felix, and Chan started laughing again.

"I knew that's what you were going to say." Felix slurred. 

"Yeah I was definitely teasing you on that, because I knew." Chan followed.

"Mmm, well judging from the shocked faces of everyone else, you two seem to be the only psychics." You try to joke, wanting the attention off of you suddenly.

"No, don't get us wrong, not all of us are as innocent as you think." Seungmin says defensively.

"Oh really now?" You respond, one brow quirking up.

Seungmin just turned red, and sat back in his seat. To which Chan started laughing, yet again. He's a giggly drunk, and you love it.

"Don't tease my puppy, babe." Ji slurred, trying to reach his arm to console Seungmin, but ultimately failing.

"I mean I was 18 too, with the same girl I first kissed." Hyunjin shrugged.

"But what do you mean 'to a man'?" Jeongin asked with a shit eating grin on his face. 

You promptly turned into a tomato, and started choking on air.

"You're not that slow pabo, obviously it means she's been with women too." Ji says, rather loudly and speaking freely, all while patting your back.

You're quiet. It's not like it's a secret, you've never hidden your sexuality. But it never came up in conversation with anyone here, except Jisung.

Wanting to ease the tone, Felix speaks up, "Well I was 18 when I first hooked up with a dude."

"I was 21, but everyone already knows that story." Ji slurred.

The whole conversation triggers another group laughing fit. Except for Chan, who is looking at you with those dark eyes again. And... is he blushing? Or is that the alcohol? He eventually snaps out of whatever daze he was in, and slowly smiles at you reassuringly.

You mentally kick yourself for getting your hopes up, of course he couldn't ever think of you like that. You're imagining things.

"But then, how old were you when you first hooked up with a girl?" Jeongin asked again, genuinely curious.

"A lot younger than 18..." You trailed off laughing, "I'll just say in high school."

"The air is different outside of Korea." Changbin says suddenly, sounding thoughtful.

Hyunjin nearly collapsed laughing, slapping Minho on the knee repeatedly, despite the glare he was shooting him.

"Well I just answered a bunch of questions in a row so that means I get to ask two people a question. And the second person I ask gets the next turn." You say, making up new rules. 

"So... Chan." He looks at you with his eyebrows raised and you just smirk, knowing you're trying to get back at him, "How old were YOU when you lost your virginity?"

He gulps and looks around at the group before answering, "I... was 18."

"Chan-hyung, you never answered us when we would ask you! Why answer her?" Jisung whines.

"I honestly don't know, maybe it's the liquor. None of you ever asked me drunk." He starts giggling.

"Okay so question 2... Binnie!" He gulps and looks at you with wide eyes, "Are you more of a boob guy?" You say grabbing your own, not even really thinking about it, "Or an ass guy?"

Changbin started laughing and answered, "Definitely ass, but I appreciate boobs too, equality."

"I am just learning so much about my fellow members lately." Seungmin whispers.

"Is that a bad thing?" You giggle.

"Not at all, it feels strangely comforting, letting loose like this." He replies and smiles softly at me, "It's been a while."

"It's freeing!" Jeongin yells abruptly, throwing his hands in the air.

"Aye, my question is for you then Min. Have you ever had a wet dream?" Changbin asks.

"... what guy hasn't? Don't all guys get them?" He asks looking around.

Then you chime in again frankly, "Girls can get them too you know."

Why does it feel like you've opened pandora's box on your sex life, in every single aspect?

Ji starts laughing, nodding his head vigorously and you know where this is about to go.

"Really now?" Felix says, mimicking your exact tone from earlier, "What was it about?"

"Mmmm... it's not your turn to ask," Then you turn to Seungmin, "And if you ask me, I will absolutely drink and not answer. No way I'm explaining a sex dream right now."

Seungmin just rolls his eyes and huffs out a laugh.

"But I wanna knooooooow," Jisung whines, "You looked so cute having one last weekend, you never told me what it was about."

Everyone was watching you two closely now, waiting to hear how he knew what you looked like in that situation.

You turned around and smacked his arm, "We weren't going to mention that ever again! Remember?!" You attempt to be angry, but you can't help it and end up smiling.

"Okay, well now I'm curious since you two are bringing this up." Minho says with a glint in his eye.

"Y/n may or may not have had one when I slept over, and I woke up to her moaning and hump--"

This time it was your turn to slap a hand over his mouth, "Jiji, Sungie, my love, my sweet sweet SWEET best friend. I don't want to kill you, but I will." You say in a dulcet tone.

He raised his hands, eyes wide and nodded his head. You couldn't help but laugh, apparently you're a giggly drunk too.

Out of the corner of your eye, you swore you saw Chan adjusting himself in his pants. But then you reminded yourself that it was just wishful thinking and an alcohol induced hallucination. Horny hallucination. God you needed to get over him and under someone else. This unrequited shit wasn't for you.

"I'm so never going to drop this you know, I wanna know what the hell happened." Minho smirked at you, to which you flipped him off jokingly.

It's Seungmin's turn next, and he's just staring at Jeongin with a blank face, "Have you ever had a one night stand?"

He pauses for a moment and then finally answers, "No, I haven't."

He looked at you now, asking his question, "You know what I have to ask now, right?"

"Go ahead." You challenge, fully prepared to choke down another shot and not answer his question, and he smiles.

"What's one of your kinks?"

You were unprepared for that question. And how could you know he would ask that, these men like to fuck around with your head.

"Relax, I just wanted to see your reaction." He says before chuckling.

You glared at him for a moment, halfheartedly. They think they can just retract questions when they get scared that they went too far. Screw that, you're answering.

"I guess the most simple one I have is edging." You shrug.

"The most simple one?!" Hyunjin asked.

"What are you a masochist? Edging is the worst, feels like torture to me." Ji says.

"But the build up is so delicious, and the end result is so worth it. It's so intense." Felix chimes in, "Choking too, that can be intense." 

"Hm, breath play might actually be my favorite." You admit.

"Damn y/n." Ji says, eyeing you with a smile, "You're full of surprises, even to this day." 

You shrug again, "Everyone has different kinks... What's one of yours?" You ask him.

He ponders for a moment, "I like being dommed sometimes."

"Big surprise." Minho says and you all laugh.

"Good one though," You nod, "That's one of mine too."

"I think I'm an exhibitionist, to an extent of course." Hyunjin says next.

"That's also not a surprise." Minho replies.

You can't help but let your eyes wander over to Chan again, while everyone else is sharing different things they're into in bed. The liquor has everyone speaking loosely. But Chan doesn't seem to care about it anymore.

You find him staring right back at you, that same look in his eyes from earlier, and you feel heat spread in your stomach, and wetness starts to pool in your panties. Maybe you weren't imagining things.

But you don't notice that Ji's observing both of you in his drunken haze. Not too faded to ignore you and Chan eye-fucking each other.

Your heart starts racing the longer you hold eye contact, and you start shifting uncomfortably on his lap, before looking away and deciding to get up.

"Alright... I need some bread to soak up this alcohol, and then I need to get home because it's already 2 in the morning." You say with a shaky breath.

"Yeah, I'm wasted right now," Jeongin says and stands, "Bed's a good idea. Goodnight everyone." And he leaves to his room.

Ji grabs your wrist, preventing you from moving, "You're not going anywhere. We're all drunk, you can't drive and no one can bring you back home."

"Fiiiiiiine," You say, "but I still want bread."

"You and your bread fixation whenever you drink." Minho mumbles, heading to the kitchen anyways to grab you some.

When he comes back he hands it to you and you start munching away happily, doing a little dance.

Meanwhile, Felix is trying to tug Chan's arms to make him stand up, but he's fighting him on it and whining. Clearly he exceeded his limit tonight drinking. He probably won't even remember the looks he was giving you, you think.

"I don't wanna go to bed." Chan whines.

Felix finally succeeds in pulling him up, "C'mon mate, you definitely need to sleep this off. You'll be miserable tomorrow. Let's get you some water too, hmm?"

Chan reluctantly holds his arm, and follows him down the hall, stumbling over his own two feet along the way. You can't help but laugh at the sight.

More of the boys say goodnight and head off to their rooms, but Ji and Minho stay with you in the living room, chatting a little longer before bed.

Ji starts going through his bags, determined that you left some pajamas here from when you slept over previously, and he kept them in a bag to give back to you. He pulls out the nightie, that you honestly forgot you brought here. But you see why you didn't ever wear it at the time. It's dark green, spaghetti straps and has lace along the bust line. It also has slits on each side of your thigh, and only covers you to the middle of your thighs. Your go to sleepware was always nighties or large tees, they're comfortable and sometimes you get hot at night. Mix in the fact that you were drinking tonight? You're already feeling overheated. But wearing this?

"Jiiiiiii, don't you have any t-shirts I can wear?" You whine.

He's already under the covers, fighting sleep, "Sorry babe... haven't done laundry... Nothing clean..."

You whine again before taking it and heading across the hall into one of the bathrooms. It was this or sleep in your sweats, and that idea sounded entirely too suffocating to you.

You slip the nightie on and brush your teeth with your designated toothbrush you had there. Jisungs idea, after you had too much tequila one night and he diligently held your hair back as you got sick.

You sigh as you're leaving, and make your way towards Ji's room. Before you reach the door though, Chan walks out of his room. He's in a black tank top, and red boxer briefs... your eyes immediately trail down and go wide. His outline clear as day. But you change your view quickly, hopefully before he notices.

It doesn't help though, now all you're doing is eyeing his arms, the muscles cut throughout them. The veins that trail all the way down to his hands. God, his hands... What wouldn't you let those hands do to you...

He scratches the back of his head, and the movement snaps you out of your gaze. You find him staring back at you for a second before answering, "Sorry, I'll just..."

You start to shake your head, "No, no. No reason to apologize." You chuckle and start shifting on your feet. You feel the skirt of your nightie swaying with you. It opened the slit wider, and Chan immediately looked down at your exposed thigh. He inhaled quietly, sucking in air through his nose.

Any other day, you'd be scrambling to cover yourself. Feeling insecure and too bare. You don't know if it was the liquor in you, but tonight? Being on display? It turned you on.

You clenched your thighs together, almost involuntarily, and Chan didn't miss that.

Time seemed to be moving too slow. He stepped towards you, nearly closing the gap between you. He's only inches away, and looking down on you. His eyes have that dark, smoldery look again. He raised his hand and brushed the curls off your face and behind your ear. When he rests his palm against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut and you lean into his touch. It's so warm, and comforting. As if it was always meant for you.

When you open your eyes, you can clearly see the lust in his is only growing. He's not holding it back anymore, biting his lip as he stares at you. You almost whimper in anticipation.

"This is your opportunity to walk away if you're not okay with me kissing you." He says lowly.

You closed your eyes, and his lips met yours. The first few seconds were sweet and soft. Almost too innocent for the heat of the moment, but then he deepened it. He was pulling you by the waist into him, running his hands down and resting them on your ass. You could easily feel how hard he was for you, even through the thin fabrics. This time you let the whimper out, and he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. When you tried to do the same, he didn't give you the chance. Instead he slipped his tongue in. It was like he was lost in desire, and greedy for more. You couldn't help it when your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

He groaned and started backing you into the wall, his lips never leaving yours. He grabbed your thighs in each hand, and hoisted you up, slotting himself between them. Your legs naturally wrapped around him, and he started rocking his length against you. His pace was achingly slow, but still delicious.

You moaned and slipped a hand up to the nape of his neck, grabbing a fistful of hair. He breaks the kiss and throws his head back with his eyes closed. He half hisses, half groans, and you can't help but rock your hips against him harder, hoping to hear more. He grips your thigh tighter, and leans down to press a quick kiss to your neck, before licking and sucking on it. He's meeting each roll of your hips with rough thrusts. And even clothed, you feel how perfectly he's rubbing your clit.

Your head is so clouded with need. Need to be touched. Need to touch him. Need to feel him inside of you. You don't even think twice when he glides his hand up your stomach, and over your breasts. He gives one a light squeeze before moving up to wrap his fingers around your neck, and your brain loses all sense for a moment.

He's just resting his hand there, but you wish he'd do more. You're not sure if this man knows just how pliant you are for him right now.

Then he brings his lips to your ear and whispers, "Can I touch you?"

His warm breath gives you chills, and you nod your head as best as you can. But that doesn't suffice him, he stops his movements against you and his grip around your throat tightens. You think you could probably get off on it if he tightens his fingers just a bit more, but he doesn't, instead he says, "I'm going to need words, babygirl."

Your hips buck into him, and you breathe out a quiet "Yes. Please..."

With that, he yanks your face closer to his by your neck. He's squeezing ever so slightly tighter around your throat. He bites your lip and you groan. But he's quick to silence you with his tongue.

Letting go, he trailed his hand back down your body and to your core. Slowly he started to rub you through the thin lace. You were so sensitive, that when he found your clit and pressed a circle into it. You couldn't help but breathe out his name. He pushed your panties to the side, and when he felt you for the first time you felt him smile against your lips.

"Babygirl... fuck, you're so wet for me." 

And as he whispered that, he slipped a finger in you. He set a steady pace, dragging against your walls with a curl. Each pump hitting your sweet spot, and the heel of his hand creating delightful friction against your swollen bud. His breathing was heavy in your ear, breaking through all your helpless whimpering. When he added a second finger, you couldn't hold back anymore.

"Chan..." You moaned louder this time, while simultaneously letting your head drop against the wall with a thud.

He pulled his lips off of you, eyes wide when he met yours. He started blinking as if he was coming back to reality. When he looked into your eyes again, he looked startled.

"What's wrong?" You pant, feeling hot and dizzy, wishing he would keep moving his hands.

Instead, he quickly slips his fingers out of you, and sets your feet on the floor. Then he backs away.

"I'm sorry, y/n... I don't know what came over me, that was incredibly inappropriate and out of character." Chan mumbled.

Your heart sinks, as you feel the sting of rejection. Tears threatened to well in your eyes, and you immediately felt the oncoming headache from holding them back. You shouldn't feel so emotional and upset. This was all spur of the moment. But you do, you feel devastated.

Regardless, you clear your throat, "I understand." You force an unsettling chuckle out, when a sob threatens to escape instead.

He puts on a blank face that feels so cold, and responds with "Don't forget to drink some water, stay hydrated... I'll be heading to bed now, you should too."

All you really want to say is don't leave, because you want to finish what was started. Because you've wanted this for so long. Because the box you kept away in the depths of your heart had ripped open once again. And all the languished emotions were here, front and center, aching to bear it all to him. To let him see. Confess. But that would be selfish, he's clearly uncomfortable with it all. He probably regrets it. An alcohol induced affair. In his eyes, a complete mistake. 

So instead you say, "Okay."

Because that's all you can muster before the tears start to fall. You turn away,  going back to facing Ji's door. 

"Goodnight y/n... Sleep well." He says, and puts a tentative hand on your shoulder.

You shrug it off, and escape to Ji's bedroom. To your surprise he's sitting up in bed, and ushering you come to him with his arms open and bottom lip pouted out.

You run to him, a bit dramatically and fall a part in his arms. But you can't help it, you sealed these emotions away for too long. You were too hurt at the moment to even try pushing them back down.

Jisung is your life saver, he's comforting you, rubbing his fingers on your scalp and rocking you back and forth to try and calm you. He gives you time before you have to explain why exactly you're having a melt down.

"Chan's an idiot." He finally says.

And you lean back to look at him, confused on how quickly he's put two and two together.

"Well you weren't exactly quiet. Between your exaggerated moans and his animalistic grunting right outside my door, of course I heard it." He rolled his eyes jokingly and that earned a laugh from you.

You smacked him lightly, "I was lost in the moment... don't judge me."

"Jagi..." He says, and wipes the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs, "You've liked him for so much longer than a moment."

Your heart starts pounding faster again. How could he know that. It's the one thing you've kept from him, from everyone, hell you even denied it to yourself for as long as possible. Was it that obvious? Who else knows? You go to speak, fear written across your face.

"No. You were not obvious, in fact you're an amazing actor. I'm sure none of the other members noticed, and definitely no one else at work knew." He answers before you can even get words out.

You nod slowly, "So then, how'd you know?"

He smiled proudly, "I'm a people watcher, I see all."

You smack him again, a little harder this time.

"Alright, alright, but I really did see all the looks you'd give him when no one else was watching... I know what longing looks like, and..." he trailed off.

You knew that wasn't all, "And?"

"Aaaaand... maybe that night you had that wet dream. You were moaning his name while humping the pillow..."

"You never told me that!" You shoved your head into your hands, distraught.

"Well I didn't want to embarrass you! I honestly didn't think you looked at any of us that way until then. Like I said, a good actor. I figured you'd tell me when you were ready to."

You sighed, "I'm sorry. It's just a stupid crush, it'll pass."

"You're grown, you don't have to apologize to anyone for liking someone. But y/n," He cupped your cheek forcing you to look at him again, "this isn't just a simple crush, is it?"

With that question, you felt the tears spilling all over again. He pulled you to lay down with him, holding you tight against him and letting you cry it all out. Somewhere between his low humming, and your quiet weeping, you fell asleep.

When you blink the sleep away from your eyes the next morning, you're still entangled with Ji. He's literally wrapped around you like a koala.

You snort out a laugh and go to check the time on your phone. 7:30 am, entirely too early. You decide to try and fall back asleep, but last night's events rush back to you. Dread fills your chest, and your fight or flight kicks in. You're trying to gently escape Ji's hold, and not hyperventilate. The latter is more difficult but, since that man can sleep through anything, you were able to succeed.

You get changed back into your clothes, and leave a note for him saying that you're leaving and you'll text him when you get home. You can't bear to face Chan, let alone anyone else who might've heard you two last night. So you decide to skip out on the usual coffee and breakfast routine. You all have that tradition after a drunken night, but you know Ji will cover for you with everyone anyways.

You're rushing down the hall, wanting to grab your things and head for the door. Panic is starting to bubble over, and you're haphazardly covering yourself up to be unnoticeable. As you're slipping the mask over your face, a voice stops you.

"Morning... don't you want to stay for breakfast?"

You can't bring yourself to look at Chan, those words only setting the box of emotions in your heart on fire. You know he only means it in the way that it is an unbroken tradition. No matter how sick one of you gets, group breakfast is a must for recuperation. No one has skipped it in the months you've been doing it. We all take care of each other. But the idea makes your mouth bitter, because you wish it was just you two. Alone. Making breakfast the morning after earth shattering sex. And the fact he doesn't mean it in that way in the slightest makes tears prick back into your eyes.

Yes, you know you're being petty. You should stick it through for your friends. Take a page from Chan and act like nothing ever happened. You just can't find it inside you to care, you need to go home and lick your wounds before facing anyone here again. Call it childish, but you didn't care.

You're struggling to find words and just blurt out, "No thanks." And rush out the door, heading to the safety of your car.

You left Chan standing there. Unbeknownst to you, hurting just as much.

Special thank you to @jeonginsleftcheek who encouraged me through finishing this! I had finished it, and then accidentally deleted the entire ending. But in turn, that was a good thing I think... because now there'll be a part 2! If you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know and I'll start one! Feedback is always cherished, but be gentle pleeeeeeeease ♡

[faraway-archive]

Sleeping n' Fucking

Yan(ish)!Nerd x GN reader

Tw: cnc/dubcon, somnophilia, semi-degrading

AN; didn't proof read/edit and please welcome my nerd OC <3

˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎໒꒱ ‧₊

Your teacher has decided to do a partner project right before the school semester ends. Fortunately for you, you got a partner who you sorta know. You have seen him a couple of times outside of the classroom, but never really talked to him a lot. So you went and sat next to him.

"Hey, your name is Luka right?" "Yeah, that's me. Nice to meet you. Do you want to meet at my house to work on our project together?" "Yeah sure, that works." "Alright. See you then." "See you."

As soon as you finish the conversation, the class has ended and everyone left. Luka slowly followed you from behind. Avoiding your line of sight, he made sure that you made it safely to your next class. Classes went by and you were finally able to meet up with Luka again at the end of the day.

"Hey, hop into my car I'll drive us to my house." "Alright."

Once you arrive at his house, you follow him to his room and sit down on his bed. Looking around at the posters and decorations. While you were looking Luka left to make some snacks and tea. Of course, he added something to make you sleepy and drowsy. He is giggling inside as he anxiously mixes the drink and carefully brings it up back into his room.

"Hey, sorry for taking so long, here is your drink and some snacks." "Oh! Thanks."

You take the drink and slowly sip it. Luka sits next to you and pulls up the project requirements. Both of you threw ideas at each other to see what the project could be about to make sure it fit the criteria. After both of you agree on what to do, you start to feel sleepy and drowsy. Of course, Luka takes notice and his dick starts to harden. The more you fight to stay away the more obvious his bulge is. He carefully guides you to his pillow and watches you fall asleep as he turns his back to you, trying to pretend to work on the project. As he glances back at you after a couple of minutes, you have fully fallen asleep and groans as he watches you. Looking so peaceful and innocent. He feels slightly bad but he's tired of watching guys flirting and or talking to you so that guilt quickly washes away. Carefully taking off your clothes, giving petals of kisses as he removes each piece of clothing. Sighing at the beauty of your body. His dick keeps twitching and he finally undresses himself.

He aligns himself in front of your entrance and rubs his pre-cum all over your hole. Sighing and biting his lip as he slowly enters your hole. Holy shit it feels so good to him as your hole clenches onto his dick. Giving you kisses as he keeps slowly thrusting back and forth. It feels so good seeing how weak you are underneath him. After thrusting slowly he picks up the pace and starts going ham. Groaning as he hears you softly whimpering and moaning as he abuses your poor little hole.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. You like that huh? Being unable to defend yourself as I take your hole and training it to only love my cock, and only my cock. God, I love seeing you hopeless as I ram my cock into you. Oh, how I love seeing you and admiring you from afar. You have no idea how much I wanted you to myself. How I want you to whimper and moan for me, begging how good my cock is. God, I wish you were awake right now but I can't risk you screaming at me. Not yet at least. You will be with me. You will be mine."

He grabs your waist and slams you into him as he cums into your hole. Panting as he dumps his load into you and slowly pulls it out, watching his cum come out and puts on your undergarment. Taking his cock and carefully puts it into your mouth. Taking your head and slowly rock back and forth as you 'suck' his dick. Once he feels satisfied he cleans himself up and dresses you back to normal. Sighing at your beautiful and wrecked body wishing you were his.

AN; sorry that this ending was shitty </3

[callooopie]

The campus trio as study buddies (gone sexual) not clickbait?

Study Buddies (GONE SEXUAL?? NOTTT CLICKBAIT. WATCH TILL END) // HOTD men

“This my playpen. Borderline thinking like Barbie, can you play Ken?” — (Unreleased) // Billie Eilish

Okay chat what if I went a little crazy and did like student versions and professor (or TA) versions… lol. (And that’s exactly what I did) Think of it like an apology for leaving y’all high and dry. This isn’t my best work so sorry if it’s a little bad in general. I feel like my writing was cringe for this so I might edit later. Man… homework is so tufffffff. But my prof. said I’m at the point where my latin doesn’t need to be corrected as much >:333 we truly do take those. And my study is so fun.

[Unedited] BTW this is all fiction. Plz do not come after me for thinking abt the teacher student trope T-T It’s all just silly silly T-T

Davos Blackwood // Student

For his somewhat known reputation as a party guy. Davos is very smart. A good note taker, helpful to his other classmates. Your luck he’s your friend and you both are already taking the same course. And if you’re not already friends? It’s very easy to get on his good side. Just be chill, conversational, laidback. He’s a very easy guy to talk to. So when you’re having issues with understanding this latest lesson from class, you go to Davos for assistance. And so you two decide to set up a study session in the library. Sometime on the weekend and late at night when no one would bother you or try to steal the study room from you guys.

You both are sitting beside one another. Davos is leaning slightly against you as he points to something in your notebook, hands waving around a bit as he explains what’s been confusing you. His eyes shift between looking down at your notes and looking into your eyes. Your legs underneath the table lazily swing back and forth. You’ve kicked your shoes off, a socked foot poking his ankle. It was just a way to annoy him, and Davos does scold you lightly for not paying attention. But as your pointed foot faintly prods against his pant leg and the way you’re giving him a side glance..

The late night study session divulges into something else for the time. Davos sliding off his chair as he drops to his knees in front of you. His hands wrap around your ankles as he pulls you forward to the edge of your chair, making you let out a tiny yelp of surprise as you slide down in a slumped position. Davos hopes you like the thrill of what you’re both about to do as he slowly pulls down your pants and then your underwear, letting the clothes dangle off of one foot over his shoulder before he buries his face in between your legs. Davos is a very eager eater. And you’ve both been working so hard, he’s starving y’know?

There’s a sense of urgency, but also Davos takes his time with you. Technically no one should bother you two. The door is locked and the window blinds are closed. I believe I’ve said it before and so I’ll say it again. Messy eater. Spit and your own wetness drips down his chin onto the chair. As embarrassed as you feel about leaving behind that.. it is quite a sight to see as your eyes lock and you watch Davos as he licks a long strip up your pussy. He swirls his tongue around your clit, leaving little nips as he moves his tongue up and down, going from playing with your sensitive bud to simply pushing his tongue into your wet entrance and tasting around. Loud slurping sounds can be heard from him as he moans into you or against your inner thigh as he pulls you closer to him, wanting to drown in you.

Davos likes looking up at you from this position. Even more so when he drags his tongue around your clit, his other hand returning from where it was in his pants as he pushes a finger slowly into you. He pulls away to watch just this one moment, eyes lighting up even in his half-lidded gaze as he watches you sigh; your head falling back against the back of the chair. Davos adds another finger and then another as he pumps them in and out of you, his lips and tongue returning to your clit as he latches onto it.

This was a study session at the beginning, and Davos wouldn’t be a good tutor if he didn’t at least make sure you looked over or read out your notes and his notes. Which is exactly what he does. Your hands gripping your notebook tightly as you explain your thoughts or reasonings behind the lesson. He doesn’t let up as he hums in agreement or understanding, muffled from how he’s pressing his mouth and nose against your pussy. His fingers speeding up as they pump in and out of you, your slick starting to run down his wrist. Maybe like how it’s easier to remember information when you write it down, maybe you’ll remember your notes as he eats you out and fingers you to cumming all over his face?

Davos Blackwood // Teaching Assistant

Okay. Not professor, although there are young ones. I don’t see him taking up the mantle of educating our youths like that. More so TA. A young TA Davos who’s only excited because he gets paid while talking about something he’s coherent at as a graduate student. He’s tasked with running the recitations, small lectures, a part of the grading. He’s the teaching assistant who shouldn’t be a teaching assistant. The beginning of class is him talking about something unrelated (I.e “Did you guys go to that frat party last weekend? No? ..okay good because you would’ve seen me do something mad illegal—“). You sit at the front of the classroom, and all it takes is you two locking eyes just once and he’s hooked.

He’ll start to crack jokes, always looking at you with a wide grin. If he gestures around with a chalk piece or a dry-erase marker; he points at you absently. A wave or a flourish in your direction. He has one student he always looks at, and it’s you. You’ll be the student he uses as examples or serve as a way to break up the different parts of the lecture. And in return you smile at him, listening diligently, enthusiastically. Davos is cute after all, and maybe it’s been a bit of a fantasy—a thought. But who hasn’t dealt with thoughts about a cute teacher. “Everyone got it? You got it? I know you got it. You’re smart like that aren’t you?”

He tells you after class. Y’know if you ever find the material hard.. it’s okay to pay him a visit. Even just to chat. Davos loves to talk. And you do take him up on that offer. After all, its good to go review things. Reviewing consists of you sitting on his desk in his tiny allotted office, Davos standing between your legs as he presses sloppy and desperate kisses to your lips. Saliva connecting you two as you pull away for air before your lips smash together once more. To be fair it did start out as a serious question pertaining to the course material. But he kept giving you that look, and you just looked so cute today. Almost like you dressed your best just for this moment.

It’s a quickie. It’s dirty, it’s desperate, and it feels so good. His hands know where to remain, when to slide up underneath your shirt like so. His thumbs briefly feel over your nipples—a hard flick from his fingers making you jump. If you’re wearing a skirt or dress; it’s now hiked up around your midriff. Your shirt pushed up around your chest. For the sake of time, your underwear is pulled to the side. Your own hands reaching forward to undo the button and zipper of his pants. Davos likes biting along your shoulder or neck. His tongue drags along the side of your neck, a hum of amusement as he feels your breath hitch right tin your throat as he passes by. His lips running up to bite your ear, whispering things of what he will do, what he can do, what he wants to do.

Obviously you gotta keep at least a little quiet. You can do that right? Be quiet and good as he slides his cock into you. He lets out something like a strangled grumble, a breathy string of incoherent uttering as his eyelids flutter. His hands on either side of you, pushing into the wood of the desk as his lips collide with yours. The best way to keep you both silent. The only sound in the tiny cluttered office being the sound of the table creaking just a bit. Sometimes the sound of skin slapping against skin can be heard but Davos slows down so as not to make it…obvious. Gasps and breathy sounds come from both of you. Your lips or open mouths always remaining near one another, against one another, foreheads pressed together. Saliva drips down your chin and a trail of it can be seen glistening around your mouth and sides of your face. All along your neck and shoulders reddened bite marks and hickeys start to appear more apparent.

Davos could be mean and quiz you right then and there, even going as far as to say that it will be a graded. Just a knowledge check. His lips brush against your ear as he whispers sultry things and exam questions. If you answer wrong, he slows his pace down—almost pulling out entirely as he barely keeps his tip inside you. When you finally answer correctly he praises you and drives his cock back into you hard enough that the table pushes back, an empty coffee mug tipping over as he pounds into you again and again as the tip of his dick hits that spot in you that has you seeing stars and making guttural whines. You’re certain the papers your sitting on top of are ruined from your activities, crumpled and wet as he slides in and out of you—squelching sounds following with each movement and drag of his hips. The rule of being quiet is forgotten about. It’s around 6 pm, really no one should be around in the office to hear anyways…

Jacaerys Velaryon // Student

There was no one else you’d rather have tutoring from than Jacaerys. He was so smart! Top of his class and everything. Although he was defensive over lending his notes. He said he would help you and improve your own if you came over to his dorm. Which is exactly what you did after class on a random Friday. The both of you making light conversation and you thanking him again and again for helping you. Even if you thought you were a lost cause over this subject material, Jace had told you not to fret about it. After all, everyone learns at some point.

You both sit on the floor, your notebook open and a few sheets of paperwork spread around on the carpet. You’re sitting in Jace’s lap as he explains a concept to you. You however are writhing in his lap, a breathy moan escaping you as he presses the vibrator more against your clit. It’s lowly buzzing and thrumming, on the lowest setting possible as Jace watches you closely. Was this what you had in mind when he said he had a “good” way for you to finally learn the material? No. But you weren’t really complaining either as he spreads your legs with his. His other hand squeezing your breast as he talks on and on as if nothing were happening. Sometimes if it looks like you’re starting to lose it; Jace will move his hand up from your boob to your hair as he gently tugs on it, pulling your ear to his lips as he asks you to repeat what he just said back to him. If you can do that (or if you can’t), that’ll change how he goes about tutoring you.

If you get it right? Congratulations, you’re still not out of the woods yet. But ti you get it wrong, Jacaerys will tut as he shakes his head. Slowly he pulls the vibrator away despite your pleas and begging. He goes over the material once more, painfully slowly. His eyes never leaving yours as he talks in a languid manner. Remember, this’ll all be on the test next week. What’ll happen if you fail? You’ll be all upset about it, and Jace hates seeing you upset. So this is for your own good as he talks against your ear, encouraging (and mean) words and remarks coming from him as he asks if you understand. And when you finally get it right? The vibrator returns to your pussy, earning a squeal from you as you slouch in his arms.

Jacaerys has a mean grin on his face as he moves onto a different topic, increasing the speed and intensity of the vibrator against your pussy as you whine loudly. He holds you tightly with one arm so you can’t squirm away. You’re so close to getting it! You just gotta.. put your mind to it. And no you can’t mumble or slur together a barely coherent sentence to appease him. Jacaerys wants you to loud and clear explain the concept as he rubs the vibrator around your clit slowly. And when you finally do, he smiles with a sigh as he presses a kiss to your cheek. Praise falls from his lips as he whispers into your ear about how smart, how hard working you are to finally understand. Perseverance. And he tells you good girls get rewarded as he lets the vibrator run on its highest setting as he holds you tightly with just one arm. Your legs spread as far as they can go. And if you show him a good grade on your exam? He’ll be sure to reward you very well.

Jacaerys Velaryon // Teaching Assistant

Like Davos. Jacaerys is a TA. They’re even in the same cohort of people. But instead of the more chill personality that is Davos, Jace is a little more serious and uptight. This is a high level course he’s helping to teach after all. And it’s a very tiny class, consisting of only 10 or more students. So it’s very easy to share his attention between you all. Although.. you seem to be getting more assistance. While Jace does go around the class when he lets you all work on the homework or latest assignments by yourself; he seems to hover around you just a bit. Asking if you need help, if you understand everything perfectly. He has a habit of bracing his hands against your desk, leaning down slightly as he looks over your work. He’s leaned over enough that you can smell his cologne and feel his breath against your hair. But just as the proximity becomes nothing, he pulls away before going around the class again.

It’s your last class of the day, and everyone’s already leaving to enjoy the Friday night on campus. But you stay behind to help Jace clean up the classroom. And he appreciates your help, a lazy conversation ensuing as you both do your own tasks. Soon it comes up that you didn’t really understand the lesson today and that you’re a little worried about it appearing on a test or something. Of course Jace is concerned; the best student in the class having issues? He certainly can’t let that continue as he says not to worry and that since you’re both here already, he can explain it on the board.

You’re braced against the table up front, your notebook open to the problems you had copied down. A pencil in your trembling hand as your forearms rest on the desk. Jacaerys is right behind you, both of your pants around your ankles as he holds onto your hips. His cock already buried into your warmth as he looks over your shoulder at your work like he usually does. His hips rhythmically rutting in and out of you as he points out where you went wrong with your problem solving. Jacaerys has laid out his conditions, for every problem you get wrong he’ll slow down, pull out—or even leave you to deal with your own mess as he doesn’t let you cum. His eyes watch your work like a hawk. He’s lazy with his thrusts, taking the time to enjoy how it looks when he pulls all the way out before slowly sliding back in all the way to his base. The movement drags out quiet whimpers and moans from your lips as you hastily work on each problem.

Once you finish your work, with a moan you slide the notebook to the side so Jace can read over your shoulder. His pace slows despite your quiet pleas. A worried look crossing your already breathless face as you wait with bated breath. After a few tense moments, your TA smiles at you as he picks up his pace again. Words of praise hitting your ears as he starts to ram his cock into you more harshly. This is what you were begging for after all, right? And your hard work is being rewarded. So don’t start complaining about possible bruises when he slaps your ass or thighs with a firm hand or how the table is squeaking against the floor. And if you have nowhere to be on this Friday evening, Jacaerys has a few tips on how you can study better.

Cregan Stark // Graduate Student

Cregan is the only other student at your table. Which therefore makes you partners for any project or group assignment the professor assigns. It’s not a bad gig, Cregan is nice even if he’s a little quiet and stoic. He’s here to learn after all, this is money being spent. And he’s not the type to be wasteful with his courses. So in class you both cut the conversation to a minimum, working hard and talking to each other only when it pertains to the class or something else academic. A little cold shoulder maybe but you’re both work oriented like that. So when a big exam is expected to come up, you and Cregan decide to block out a certain time to study all the material. Printed study guides, old notes, the whole nine yards.

Some people study better when writing it down again and again, others like flash cards, memorization. The best way you two learn best? Well, your study guide is held in your hands as you read out a section. And Cregan below you nods in return as he lets out a shaky breath. It’s a little hard to follow along with the guide, his eyes shifting between reading and watching you as you ride him. You can see the conflict right there, eyes darting from the paper to your breasts and how they bounce and look, to your own eyes as you read with a lidded look. Now, not only does this get the whole ordeal of studying out of the way, but it’s also quite a fun time for you both. Two birds with one stone.

You are a very distracting picture. Cregan would draw you if he could. But for now he settles on remembering exactly how you look as you slowly sit down on his dick over and over. How your head falls back momentarily as he stretches your walls out. The faint whine you make as he juts up into you for fun. He hasn’t been much help, you’ve been doing all the work. And the room is heating up nicely as the bed slowly creaks underneath you, neither of your eyes leaving the other as you regard one another with a soft and gentle gaze. You really are beautiful. And smart.

Your voice shakes, throat going a little dry due to how long you’ve been droning on about a certain topic from the guide. Your legs and thighs burn slightly as well as you straddle Cregan on his bed. His cock buried nicely into you as you bounce up and down. You have to pause every now and then, a roll of your hips making his eyes close for a moment with a breathy sigh. You both think you manage to divide your attention between studying and well fucking. But soon the restraint in both of you starts to break down as you ride him. And it’s not long before study guides and exams are long forgotten as he flips you over onto your back, his hands finding your hips as he fucks you into the mattress. If you both fail the test? Well.. you can always fuck the anger out of one another.

Cregan Stark // Young Professor

The new professor is young. Which is the talk of the entire campus. Professor Stark, lecturer of arctic biology and ecosystems. Very intelligent, very handsome. All that jazz. It’s a little clear that most people taking his course are.. there for other reasons (Which can be said about the others too). But you are actually interested in what Cregan has to say. You’re the one who raises their hand, visits office hours, talks to him outside of the class about the subject and his experience with the subjects in the coursework. You’re a very endearing person, and you make Cregan feel seen academically. And you are… quite attractive. A thought he has desperately tried to get out of his head.

He is no better with how he treats you. Always speaking to you with nothing but praise and respect. When he first compliments your work, a project you had done for the class. Cregan is almost taken aback by how you light up with glee, a smile on your face as you tilt your head. It’s something he wants to see again. And again. Lingering gazes, his hand brushing against your arm as he walks past your desk. Cregan always seems to have a compliment for you on whatever you do. Comments left on your assignments.

You visit his office hours as stated before. It’s a more relaxed setting where you both just talk to one another. Perhaps it’s overstepping but you sit on his desk, legs crossed as he leans back in his chair. Maybe by accident, maybe not, his hand grazes your calf as he lifts his hand to fix his hair. Your shoe rests right against his leg as you lean forward. You are a very lovely student, perhaps the best one he’s ever had. And he tells you so; you are a very good student. So good about how you slide off of the table, sinking to your knees.

Cregan will admit this is a lapse in judgment, simply leaning back and watching as your hands reach up to his belt. Your tongue flicking out for the tiniest moment, wetting your lips in anticipation. Eyes batting up at him; your expression, knowing, confident, upsettingly faultless. You know what you are doing, he knows what you are doing. You know he knows. He helps you take off his slacks, a groan or a grumble resounding in his throat. Guttural and breathy. Low in volume as his eyes regard you with a lusty glint. Like a haze, a mist of anticipation and electricity dancing along his body. Dangerous, definitely. There are rules, codes of conduct, norms of society being broken. But that doesn’t seem to matter as your lisp wrap around his tip, your tongue swirling around the very top as your hand strokes up and down his length. Morals go out the window entirely when your mouth engulfs him, as far as he can go—down your throat practically. Cregan wonders if that image has been burned into his mind as he breathes out a string of strangled groans and incoherent sentences. If not, then you two can always do this again. You gag and slurp, your eyes looking up at him from where you sit on your knees. They’re certainly going to be a beautiful shade of red by the time you’re done. And you seem to be taking your sweet time as you languidly lick up and down. You’re lucky everyone’s already left the building.

Just remember you’re not getting extra credit points for this…

[cherryredstars]

Hi!! This is my first time requesting so I’m a bit nervous but can you write where Miguel gets Jealous when He sees reader talking to other spider people? Like he isn’t insecure he knows reader won’t cheat but he can’t help but feel jealous. fluff and maybe some smut??

Sorry if it’s confusing but have a good day or night!

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff, Sexual Touching, Marking

Summary: Jealousy, Jealousy 

A/N: So sorry your first request took so long :((

Word Count: 725 (Not Edited)

He knows it’s irrational.

There isn’t really a threat, not to him. He knows you’re loyal and has seen it every time you stood by him. He knows he treats you well and that you absolutely adore him. But he can’t help that ugly ball from burning in his stomach. It burns bright and hot, warming his skin and causing his muscles to vibrate. His hands clenched shut, no matter how many times he flexes them. To hide them and to keep the unease still in his body, he crosses his arms over his chest.

With his advanced hearing, he can catch snippets of the conversation despite being at the entrance of the cafeteria. It made his skin twitch, and he huffed as he straightened himself from his leaning position. The spider was droning on and on, catching words like gorgeous, deserves the best, date, fancy, breathtaking. Miguel had to roll his shoulders back from the hunched position they were starting to take. 

After your order was placed on the counter- the only reason he left his office in the first place was because you were starting to get hungry-  you had waved goodbye to the Spider, making your merry way back to him. The jealousy in his stomach started to die down as you approached, a wide smile on your face. You stopped right in front of him, proudly showing off the two pastry bags in your hand and the cup in the other. 

“Look! I got you an empanada!” The way your chest had puffed out like a proud puppy expecting praise was endearing, and he smiled the tiniest bit. 

After mumbling out a quiet thank you, he placed a hand to the small of your back, guiding you out of the cafeteria. You had begun to mumble as you walked with him, occasionally cutting off to say hi to a few people who passed. Miguel listened absentmindedly, nodding along to what you would say. You had begun to quiet down when the two of you reached his office, walking onto his platform. His hands hovered around your body, prepared to catch you if you were to fall while getting up. 

As the platform began to rise you perked up again. “Oh, I was talking to Peter earlier an-”

You yelped as Miguel grabbed you, pulling you in front of him. Your breath faltered as he buried his face into your neck. His teeth scraped against the tender skin, making you feel slightly dizzy. Your hands tightened around the things in your hand, the lid of your cup making a soft pop as it detached from the cup’s rim. A small whine left your mouth as Miguel teeth slightly punctured your skin, and tilted your head so he could have more room. 

He hummed as his teeth left your skin, putting his head in place. He lapped against the mark, making your body shiver. “Don’t like when y’talk about other men.”

The words were a mumble, and you couldn’t fully process them as Miguel’s hand traveled down and cupped your clothed sex. You let out a sharp gasp as he began to grind his palm over you. You can feel your arousal dripping from your body, and you slouched into Miguel’s shoulder to muffle your noises. Miguel cooed down at you softly, smelling the sexual pleasure escaping your skin. He continued to like the bite mark, adding hickeys to accompany it. 

You couldn't help yourself from grinding into his hand, whining into his neck as your body softened into him. It didn’t take long for your release to build up in your stomach, and you panted heavily against his skin as you began to lose yourself. You let out a dragged mewl as you came, a flush covering your cheeks. Miguel pulled away from you slightly, just enough to see the dazed look in your eyes. 

He chuckled, massaging your cheek to try to coax you out of your haze. You blinked a few times before the glaze in your eyes cleared, looking up at him. There’s his baby. You cleared your throat, looking down at the things in your hands and surprised to find that they’re still in tact. You looked back up at Miguel, mouth dry and forcing yourself to take a sip of your drink. 

“Um, anyways… Peter-671 proposed to MJ.”

Join Cherry’s Discord Server

[huggybearhughes43]

Smut where the team social media girl is taking pictures of the team and needing to adjust stuff on Trevor like his clothes/hair but being short and him just pulling her into his lap so she could do what she needs but he ends up getting hard from having her on his lap. Bonus points for dirty talk and the use of photos/videos

No one will know

Trevor Zegras x Fem! Reader

Warnings- smut, oral (fem receiving), recording, cum eating (?), Trevor being an f boy

Summary- in the request

Word count- 861

The snapping sound of Leo’s picture fills the air as I finish up his session of the team photos. He was likely going to be the easiest of the whole team, his willingness to cooperate was refreshing. Leo exited the small office that the individual photos were being taken in. I could recognize the footsteps of the next player from miles away.

“Hey Trevor.” I say nonchalantly as I had my back turned to him, setting the camera up for his photo. He greeted me back with a soft “hi” before he sat on the stool in front of the camera. I look up from the camera and furrow my brows. I sigh and walk towards him with the camera in my hand. “Do you not know what a comb is?” I shake my head as I rustle my hands through his hair fix it. I step back and look at my work then notice his collar was crooked and wrinkled.

I scold him silently for making me do extra work. A smirk plasters on his face. “Sorry, y/n… had to get here in a hurry.” The mischievous look on his face told me everything, that whatever he was doing, or who…, couldn’t have been more important than player pictures. I step back towards him to readjust his collar, an attempt to smooth it out. Trevor snakes his tattooed arms around my waist, pulling me closer. I shake my head but I don’t say anything as I finish fixing him up.

I attempt to move away but his arms tightened and his smirk faltered. “The hell do you think you’re doing?” I scoff and raise my elbows out and attempt to wiggle out of his grasp. He chuckles softly and pulls me closer, “don’t you feel what you did to me?”. I stare at him in confusion until I feel his hardened member against my thigh.

“Trevor…” I shake my head, “if anyone finds out…” He laughs out. “They won’t, I swear.” He snakes his hands down to hold my ass. He moves one of his hands to grab the camera from mine. I look at him confused before he smiles up at me. “How many people have access to what’s on this?” I clear my throat, “just me until I edit them…” his smirk grows wider. “No one will know” he looks back up to me and his smirk turn to a smile. He moves his hand from my ass up to my hair, pulling me down to force a kiss upon my lips.

My hands fall onto his shoulders for support as I give in to kiss him back. *I sigh against his lips and situate myself to sit on his lap on the stool. Trevor places the camera on a small table to the side of the photo area and his hands find home on my hips. Before I can protest Trevor hoists me up and turns around to place me on the chair, now standing in between my legs he grinds into me.

I moan against his lips and reach down to unbutton his pants. He shakes his head and kneels down in between my legs. He reaches towards the camera again, switching the video on and setting it up so we’re both in frame. He looks up at me as if waiting for any protest, when he doesn’t hear any he moves to unbutton my shorts. I wiggle my hips to help him pull off my shorts and panties. Once they’re fully off Trevor kisses my knee before spreading my legs.

He smirks up at me before grabbing the camera and pointing it in between my thighs. He bites his lips as he reaches up to run a finger through my folds for the camera, spreading them halfway through. He looks into the camera as he enters a finger into my dripping hole. He points the camera up to my face to catch the reaction of the soft moans falling from my lips. My head rolls back in pleasure, signaling him to point the camera back to my cunt.

“Gonna cum for the camera, pretty girl? Hm?” I clench my eyes shut and nod vigorously at his words. “Cum then.” He says nonchalantly, moving his thumb to circle my swollen clit. I moan out and arch my back as my cream coats his fingers. He smirks and pulls away, pointing the camera towards him as he sucks his fingers clean before shutting off the camera. Trevor stands up, placing the camera back down before grabbing the clothes he took off of me. He leans down and presses a soft kiss to my lips as he helps the shorts back onto me. I pulls away once I’m situated and heads to the door.

The boner in his shorts was more visible now than ever. He shrugs when he sees me staring, “send me a copy of that video later, it’ll help.” He smirks one last time then exits the office. I sit on the stole dumbfounded, thinking about an excuse to come up with when the managers ask why I hadn’t gotten any shots of Trevor Zegras.

[iamnotthere-idonotdie]

dream of me

part one

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synopsis: reader is an employee at wayne enterprises and gets a promotion from bruce, but the line between your professional relationship is blurred when he invites you to dinner.

content: bruce wayne x reader, no use of y/n, some cursing, some sex but not too graphic, mention of parents’ death

a/n: i had some other plans for this story but got a bad case of writers block so i decided to leave it here instead of dragging it out for the sole purpose of adding another plot point, i don’t have any plans for more parts to this but we’ll see, i honestly think i was more envisioning keaton’s bruce wayne for this story (at least i envisioned his house to look like keaton’s) because battinson’s would be pretty uncharacteristic for this, maybe this is an au where bruce wayne isn’t batman and just works at the company but i don’t know, point is just interpret bruce however you’d like, as always sorry about the typos, also sorry if it’s inaccurate that bruce doesn’t cook (i wasn’t sure if it was canon that he does or not so sorry if i was wrong in my guess, i should’ve just looked it up but honestly i was just ready to finally get this out of my drafts)

edit: i got around to making a part two

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grey clouds encompass the sky. your window is frosted by the freeze outside and slow snowflakes fall down like confetti. you walk up to the window and put your hand on it, letting the chilled glass send a shiver down your spine. it’s the first snowfall of winter. the first of likely many. though your penthouse offers a lavish view of the icy landscape of beautiful serenity, you know on the streets below the ice has already turned to slush and the snow has darkened from the dirty concrete. nothing beautiful lasts long in gotham city.

you pull your robe tighter around your shoulders and let out a sigh. you suppose you’d better get dressed for work. you walk across the bedroom to your closet and begin selecting your outfit. a stylish ensemble of pants, a button down top, and a sweater. you grab your boots out of the closet and set them down on the hardwood floor, the thud waking up your partner in bed. well, not exactly partner. but he kept you company last night, and warm this morning.

he rubs his eyes and sits up in bed.

“you’re leaving?” he asks, his words slurring as he tries to wake up.

“i have to go to work. we have a budget meeting today. i can’t be late.” you reply as you put your boots over your thick socks.

“what time is the meeting at?”

“ten.” you reply, flatly.

“well then what’s the rush? you still have plenty of time to get there.”

“not in this ice, i don’t.”

“well then at least let me kiss you goodbye.”

you reluctantly walk back over to the bed and kiss his cheek. you feel a sting in your chest and realize he didn’t see this as the one night stand you did.

“bye. i have to go.”

“see you later?” he asks as he gets out from under the covers, his clothes still off.

“maybe.” you say coldly. you don’t have time for this.

“okay, fine. bye.” he replies just as icy. good. it’s easier that way.

you put your coat on and grab your bag as you walk out the door, locking it behind you. he’ll unlock it again when he leaves but mrs. hanson down the hall has a spare. you’ll text her to lock the door for you later.

just as you predicted, the roads are a nightmare. you’re weaving in between other cars, willing the other drivers in them to go faster. you can’t be late for this meeting.

you finally get to the tower and pull into the garage, opting for a space right by the elevators. maybe if you get this promotion they’ll give you an assigned spot.

you get to your desk at 9:46. with a few minutes to spare, you go to the break room and make a coffee. someone keeps using your mug, so you have to use the communal one with the cartoon dog on it. not as professional as you’d like. and you can’t use a disposable because wayne enterprises is committed to being waste-free. at least waste-free when it comes to the break room. other areas in the company could benefit from that policy. but that’s what you’re going to propose in your meeting. you know this corporation is not going to run out of money anytime soon, but there are still places to improve on efficiency. you drink your coffee, black, and make your way back to your desk. you glance at the conference room every few seconds to watch your boss set up for the meeting. you analyze his every move, trying to gauge his mood at the moment. sometimes these proposals of yours don’t go over very well if he seems to have woken up on the wrong side of the bed. you need him in a good mood. this meeting can potentially determine whether or not you can continue climbing the corporate ladder into that manager position you’ve been pining for for two years.

you gather your folder and notepad, opting to leave the coffee sitting at your desk, and you walk into the conference room.

“good morning mr. glass. enjoying the snow this morning?” you greet him in your most chipper tone in an attempt to sway what you think is a bad mood.

“well i would if the roads weren’t so goddamn icy. these people can’t drive in the snow.”

so maybe starting the conversation with that was a poor choice.

“yes, it can be very frustrating to drive in it.” you try to be as agreeable as possible.

more of your colleagues start to filter into the room as you take your seat at the end of the table. the conversation is low between everyone as they wait for the meeting to begin.

after 15 minutes, you start getting more anxious. your stare threatens to burn a hole through your folder with the proposal in it. why is this taking so long?

you now understand why there’s been a delay, as bruce wayne enters the room. fuck. bruce wayne is going to have to listen to your proposal now? it was nerve-wracking enough to have to pitch this to your boss, but the owner of the company? your boss’s boss? your hands start to shake and you try to wipe the sweat off of them onto your pants.

“i apologize everyone. i didn’t mean to keep you all waiting.” mr. wayne says as he takes his seat on the opposite end of the table.

mr. glass stands up from his seat at the head of the table. “well as long as you’re here, let’s get started on our quarterly report and budget for next month.”

the rest of the meeting is clouded by your anxiety. all you can think about is how much you don’t want to fuck this up. especially not in front of bruce wayne.

“well it looks like there’s plenty of room for improvement. how do you suggest we close this gap?” mr. glass asks the room, but it’s clear he is directing the question at mr. wayne.

“does anyone have any suggestions?” mr. wayne looks around the table.

without thinking you raise your hand and speak up.

“i have a budgeting proposal that i would like to share. if that’s alright.”

“that’s more than alright. let’s hear it.” mr. wayne gestures for you to take the stand, so to speak.

you stand and shakily take your papers out of the folder.

“as we all know, our expenses have been increasing as of late. and while these expenses have allowed us to improve on some essential aspects and departments, i believe there is a more efficient way we could be doing it.” you pause and look around the room. “firstly…”

the pitch goes better than you could have imagined. you were able to make your proposals clearly, answer questions thoroughly, and present confidently. you sit down after finishing and can’t help but smile, proud of yourself.

“well, that was quite a lot. thank you, but i think some of those implementations are a bit far-fetched.” mr. glass says and you can’t help but hear the condescending tone. your smile drops and you feel your face get hot in embarrassment. so much for that promotion.

“i actually really like what you had to say. i especially liked the suggestion to put more money into outreach.” mr. wayne says to you, smiling. “did you have any specific suggestions on where to do that?”

“thank you mr. wayne. i think it would be extremely beneficial and useful to prioritize teaching youth about technology; promoting stem learning and encouraging them to pursue higher education and research into it. we can even offer scholarships and grants to help students who won’t be able to afford the college tuition. and possibly gifting students new computers to further encourage learning.”

you get so passionate about this topic. you yourself were one of those kids. those kids who didn’t grow up in a mansion, but in a dingy apartment with a single father. those kids who couldn’t even afford to think about college, let alone actually pursue it. it was through a wayne scholarship program that gave you the opportunity to go to university. and now, if you have any say in the matter, you’d be proud to help give that opportunity to someone else who needs it.

“i think that’s great. giving these kids a way to focus their skills in a field they love. great work.” mr. wayne looks impressed, and you can’t help but smile even bigger.

“i appreciate that, mr. wayne.”

mr. glass clears his throat and stands again.

“well it looks like we have a solution here.” your boss says, clearly annoyed. “meeting adjourned, everyone. thank you.”

you stand up and gather your things together. you notice out of the corner of your eye that mr. wayne is making his way toward you.

“that was an excellent proposal. i think there’s a lot of potential there.”

“thank you mr. wayne.”

“bruce, please. i’ve actually been thinking about starting a new outreach division specifically working with the youth of gotham. when that happens, i’d like for you to head that department.”

you stare at him in shock for a moment then finally speak up.

“really? you want me?”

“you clearly have a passion for this. we need that.”

“wow. thank you. i’d be very interested in that.”

heading a division? in a program you care deeply about? this is much better than you had hoped for.

“great. i’ll be in touch and we’ll get started soon.”

“perfect. thank you mr. wa..”

“please, just call me bruce.”

you feel yourself blush a bit.

“bruce, thank you. thank you so much for this opportunity.”

“it’s my pleasure. i’m happy to give the position to someone who really cares about it.”

“i do, very much.”

bruce just smiles as he starts out the room.

“it was nice meeting you. and i’m looking forward to working with you on this.” he says.

“it was nice meeting you too. thank you, again.”

bruce smiles as he exits the room and you watch him through the glass as he makes his way down the hall.

you can’t believe it. this is the perfect opportunity for you. you spend the rest of the day too distracted by glee to focus on your spreadsheets. this is life changing. you can’t help but think of bruce differently too. he’d been up to your floor for meetings many times before, but this was the first time you were sitting in too. you’d always pictured him, frankly, not very positively. you knew this company was a great one and you were proud to work here, but now you’re feeling even better about being a part of wayne enterprises’ legacy.

at 5:36, you start gathering your things to go home. after organizing your desk and grabbing your bag, you start heading out of the office and to the elevators to the garage. you’re the last one to leave on your floor—even mr. glass left early—so you wait by the elevators alone. you hear the familiar ding and the doors open to reveal bruce wayne inside. he’s flipping through some pages in a manila folder when he looks up at you and smiles.

“hello,” he says pleasantly. “last one out?”

“yes, it’s just me.”

“what floor?”

“one, please.”

he presses the button, the button stating GF already glowing.

“thank you.”

the rest of the elevator ride is silent. bruce seems enveloped in this folder and you aren’t much of a talker anyways. the doors open and you start to exit the elevator, when bruce says,

“i’d like to start this project as soon as possible, monday.”

you stop and turn to face him. he’s smiling lightly and you smile back.

“that would be perfect. i’m very excited to start working on it.”

“i am as well. and i’m looking forward to working with you more closely too.”

“thank you bruce. i look forward to that as well.” and with that, the elevator doors close between you.

you smile again, thinking more about this job. but you realize you’re not just excited about the position, but the close proximity you’ll be working with bruce now. and how he said he’s looking forward to it.

you quickly dispel the thoughts from your mind. you’re frustrated at yourself for thinking of something so unprofessional. he was bruce wayne, for gods sake. your boss. any other notions needed to be eliminated, especially before starting this new position. you can’t afford something like that distracting you from doing your job and doing it well.

the weekend is spent with you primarily working on the project. you want everything ready to go and well-organized on monday. you want every detail planned out, to the tee. sunday night, you have all your folders, planners, binders, and other papers, all organized, sitting at the table by the door so you don’t forget them. you finally allow yourself to relax a minute before going to bed, so you draw a bath. you sit by the tub and watch it fill with the warm water, letting your mind wander. the rush of the water streaming out of the faucet provides the perfect white noise for you to get lost in a daydream. you think of this job, the company… bruce. when your mind starts to think of him, you let it stay on the thought. the thought of him, how nice he was to you during the meeting and afterwards. the elevator ride and his sweet goodbye. you think of his smile and you find yourself smiling too.

the sound of the water overflowing the tub jolts you out of your dream state.

“shit!”

you shut the faucet off and pull the plug on the tub drain to let the water go back down. you grab a few towels and try to mop the water up off the floor, leaving them in a wet pile by the door. you’re not feeling very relaxed anymore and don’t quite feel like a bath, but you’re not about to let this water go to waste. so, you slip your bathrobe off and slide into the water, grateful it’s still warm. you let out a sigh and close your eyes, trying to find serenity. again, your mind goes back to bruce. you can’t believe you’re allowing yourself to develop a crush on him. are you in elementary school? this is your boss, you can’t let these thoughts jeopardize this amazing career development.

you sit there for a while, until the water starts to cool down and your fingers start to prune. you get out of the tub and drain it, then grab your wet towels and bring them to the laundry room to wash. you take your robe off, the cold air stinging your naked body, and throw it in the washing machine too. you make a stop at the thermostat to turn it up as you make your way to your bedroom. you slip into pajamas and gingerly walk to the window and look out over the cityscape, the foggy night sky making it look spooky as ever. you allow yourself one last thought of bruce before you get into bed and fall asleep.

you wake up extra early monday morning and head straight to work. the ice has luckily been cleared a bit by gotham’s snow plows, but that doesn’t stop the traffic from forming. it’s okay, you gave yourself plenty of time to get there.

you get up to your floor almost an hour early and make a cup of coffee in the break room. at least one positive of coming in this early, no one’s using your mug.

you sit down at your desk and start running through your folder for the project, drinking your coffee until the mug is almost dry.

“good morning.”

you’re startled by a low voice behind you. it’s bruce.

“good morning bruce. you’re in early.”

“i could say the same to you.”

“i’m just ready to get started.”

“well great. we’ll get things started once everyone else gets in.” he points to your near-empty mug. “more coffee?”

“oh, sure. thank you.”

“how do you take it?”

“just black, please.”

bruce picks up your cup and takes it back to the conference room, his own mug in his other hand. he comes back with two steaming cups and sets yours back on your desk.

“thank you.” you say, picking it up and taking a sip.

“of course. so, how was your weekend?”

“it was good. mostly just working on this.” you pat your folder, gesturing to the project.

“i hope you were able to get some rest in too.”

“i was, yes. and you? how was your weekend?”

“oh, fairly uneventful. i spent most of it working as well.”

“well, i hope you were able to get some rest in too.” you say with a smile.

bruce smiles back

“i was, yes.”

the two of you continue talking at your desk as the first few members of your team start to trickle in.

when the rest of your team arrives, you and bruce all meet in the conference room to discuss strategies and begin the plans for this venture. it’s a productive day, with you sharing your thoughts on how to increase efficiency and bruce bouncing off your ideas. you realize you two work well together, your shared values and ideals harmonizing with each other to create a thought out and amazing plan. you start packing up feeling even more confident with this new position and you already cannot wait to keep going with it.

at the end of the day, bruce finds you again at the elevator, and this time the ride isn’t filled with awkward silence but with engaged conversation between colleagues.

“i enjoyed hearing about your plans to bring this project into gotham’s schools. your point about giving each classroom the proper curriculum via new technology was especially helpful.” bruce smiles at you and you can’t help but feel proud of yourself.

“thank you bruce. i think the whole team was able to work very well together and we made some great progress today.”

“i think so too.”

the elevator dings and the doors open to the garage.

“well, thank you again. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“see you tomorrow.” he says with a smile.

you walk towards your car with your back facing the elevator when you hear the doors close. and then footsteps coming up behind you.

bruce taps your shoulder.

“would you like to have dinner with me tonight?”

you’re shocked at his question and, truthfully, your first instinct is to decline. he must sense your apprehension because he starts to backpedal on his question.

“if you have plans, or just don’t want to, i understand.”

“no… i would be happy to have dinner with you.”

“great. we can go down to my car if you’d like.”

“sure.” you say with a smile. as you follow behind him back to the elevator to go to the ground floor, you feel yourself blushing.

the two of you make it to the lobby and you realize how rarely you actually see this part of the offices, with your daily routine utilizing the parking garage every day since you started working here. bruce’s car is brought around front and he opens the passenger door for you to get in.

you make small talk as you drive to his home. you talk about work, how exciting the project is. you talk about the weather, how it’s nice that the ice is clearing. it’s a pleasant drive with bruce at the wheel. when you get to his home, bruce comes around and opens the car door for you again and you head up the steps to his front door. you enter into his insanely large home and are in awe of how just one person can inhabit so much space.

“good evening, master bruce. dinner is almost ready.” an older gentleman greets you two as you enter.

“this is alfred,” bruce introduces him. “he takes care of a some things around here.”

“i take care of everything around here. pleasure to meet you.” alfred offers a hand to shake.

“the pleasure is all mine, alfred.” you say with a chuckle.

“we can wait in the living room. i’ll start a fire.” bruce says.

alfred makes his way to the kitchen as you follow bruce to what you assume is one of multiple living rooms in the house. he puts some logs in and starts a fire in the almost-comically large fireplace then sits down next to you on the sofa.

“dinner smells delicious.” you say, filling the air with light conversation to accompany the crackle of the fire.

“alfred is an amazing cook. i’ve tried to learn from him but i suppose it just wasn’t in the cards for me.”

“i never really learned either. my mother was a great cook too. i wish she had been able to teach me… she passed when i was very young. that’s actually one of the few things i remember about her, her cooking.”

you don’t know why you suddenly started talking about your mother. it’s not exactly light fireside conversation.

“i’m sorry…” bruce says quietly.

“it’s okay. it was a long time ago, and my father and i were able to grow a lot closer over the years.”

“are you and your father still close?”

“he.. actually is gone too. he died of cancer a few years ago. losing my mother was hard, of course. but losing my dad… he was all i knew for so long. all we had was each other.” you start to feel yourself welling up, and you realize you’ve never talked about this with anyone else before.

bruce sits there quietly, and you try to fight the tears but when one falls, the others follow suit.

“i’m sorry…” you start as you try to wipe them away.

“don’t be.” bruce says quietly as he gently wipes a tear off your cheek. he lets his hand stay there, his thumb resting gently on your cheekbone.

you lock your eyes with his and just as you start to get your tears under control, bruce leans in and lightly kisses you. and though you know he’s your boss and you know it’s unprofessional… you don’t stop him. instead, you look at him, and then lean in yourself and kiss him back, stronger. the light of the fire casts dancing shadows across the two of you as you fall into each other on the ornate sofa. dinner has left your mind, work has left your mind, everything has left your mind. everything but him.

you continue kissing, passion growing more and more as the fire grows too. he’s unbuttoning your shirt and you’re taking off his jacket. shoes are kicked off and before it continues, he’s scooping you up with his arms under your knees and around your shoulders, carrying you up the stairs to what you assume is his bedroom. he opens the door and not-so gently puts you on the bed. he finishes undressing himself and then starts taking your clothes off too. he slides your pants down and off your legs and lifts your shirt off, leaving your arms laying above your head. you feel vulnerable, yet when he gets on top, you somehow also feel safe, it just all feels so right. this intensity, this passion, this craving you have for each other is more than you bargained for but also, somehow, everything you ever wanted.

you finish, bruce quick to follow. you only now start to think about how loud you must have been. you both lay there, catching your breath, sweating, and realize how fast the time has gone by. you’ve definitely missed dinner.

bruce finds you an oversized t-shirt and a pair of his boxers for you to wear. he finds a shirt for himself and slips a pair of sweatpants on. you and him make it back downstairs to find that alfred has stored your dinner in the fridge and left instructions on how to properly heat it up. you and bruce laugh at each other for not knowing how to work the stove as you stumble through alfred’s pointers, but you both finally manage to reheat the meal and go back to the living room to eat. with the fire burning its last embers, you and bruce eat your dinner under the low orange light by the fireplace. you talk about nothing yet about everything as you enjoy the delicious late-night dinner. bruce takes your plate to the kitchen and washes the dishes as you bask in the final warmth of the fire.

“i may not be able to cook,” bruce starts as he makes his way back to you. “but i at least know how to clean up after myself. alfred left another note saying to leave the dishes to him, but i figured i’d save him a few extra minutes.”

“how very kind of you.” you say, teasingly.

“well, i am extremely generous.” he says with a sarcastic tone.

you laugh and when he sits back down next to you, you pull him in and kiss him. he cradles your jaw in his palm and kisses you back, his thumb gently rubbing your temple. he pulls away and kisses your forehead. exhaustion gets the better of you and you yawn.

“you tired?” he says smiling.

“no, of course not. i’m as awake as ever, i could run a marathon.” if your sarcastic tone didn’t make it clear you were indeed tired, the second yawn surely did.

he chuckles and stands, taking your hand in his as he leads you back upstairs.

“i have a guest room if you want it, right there down the hall.” he says, pointing ahead.

you look down the hall then back up at him.

“or…”

he chuckles lightly and grabs your hand again, taking you back into his room. you get under the covers with him and he lays down on his back as you curl up next to him, resting your arm across his stomach and your head on his chest. his steady heartbeat and his gentle stroking of your arm lulls you quickly to sleep. as you lay there, seduced into a deep slumber by the warmth and comfort, you dream only of bruce.

…………………………………………………………………………………….

…………………………………………………………………………………….

[bara-izu]

Do you have any advice on how to get over lack of skill? I want to do the Astarion Lestate trend but I don't think my skills are ready for it. I have references pictures of Astarion pulled up when I'm working, and even have the game launched so I can turn him if I need to (mostly for the attempts I did at his hair) but everytime I tweaked something or started over nothing looked right. I keep getting frustrated 😭

Hi anon- Sorry this took me a while to get to, i hope you and others can still find this useful! While the basic advise to get over 'lack of skill' is PRACTICE, PRACTICE, PRACTICE! i hope this will help you knowig where to get started with that!

I'm going to put my teacher pants back on, this might be a bit long so buckle up- I'll go over a few areas:

Primitive Shapes

How to Use References

Delete your work (hear me out)

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

Primitive Shapes:

This is your foundation. Everything starts with this, and while you may find it boring to think of your art in terms of cubes and spheres- i kid you not it will help elevate your work.

If/when you are stuggling to draw a complicated pose, or a specific perspective, refering back to the form in these basic shapes can really help to simplify your process and help you problem solve.

A chill/silly watch for a more in depth discussion on what i mean / how this can help - Give Pikat's 'Draw boxes (correctly) to improve your art' a watch. They also mention this in the video but @/Uncomfortable on youtube also has some great fundermental videos.

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

How to use references.

Okay so references are great 10/10 very useful. But, unless you know WHAT to study from a reference, they can sometimes fall flat of their usefullness.

Anatomy studies are something a lot of us will be recommended as artists, but actually knowing what to pay attention to can boost your confidence in your work. Start with a goal, what do you want to get out of this sketch session? Do you want to get better at understanding the 3D form of a specific part of anatomy? Better at poses? Try to narrow down your learning each session to make it less overwhelming.

In this i'll focus on understanding the form so, lets start with a reference. Linking back to Primitives again, start off by braking down your anatomy into forms. Sketching over the top of your references is totally fine. But make sure you are doing so critically, otherwise it may look like a flat/unnatural trace and you're not really learning from it. Via the first sketch you can see where the primitive shapes fall on the body - think of it like a ball-jointed-doll, hips, knees, shoulders ect are ball socketed whereas arms, legs ect can be made up of tubes. (See the first image, when sketching your tubes, sketch your contour lines too- this can help determind how clothing / hair will fall over the body, and can help you understand the 3D Form.)

A BIG IMPORTANT SIDE NOTE - When using photo references, do be very aware that they may be distorted due to the height of the camera, or camera focal length - (you can see in my sketch i had to edit the torso and head because the reference was a little top heavy)

A few artists/books for some extra reading / reference : - Andrew Loomis (OG for body proportions, books are a little outdated but fundermentals are still useful), - Tenten云画画 (his stylised anatomy breakdowns are very interesting to me) - Anatomy Essentials (I've had this book for years, it covers lots of areas, is a bit complex though, i myself should reread it again 😅

Also, if you can't find a reference for a specific pose, don't be afraid to use 3D programs! Anatomy 360, DesignDoll, Clip Studio, Magic Poser - all nifty options~

SO taking when we've learnt from the primitive forms, you can now try applying that to the Lestrat Picture. (which, granted is a complicated pose, as it also has forshortening and an odd top down perspetive of the bottom character- so don't panic if you don't get it the first time!)

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

Final points- Delete your art (hear me out)

What i mean by this is, sometimes reworking the same face over and over again can bog your down. It can make it very difficult to actually see whats wrong. So, get rid of it and start again. (hide the layer/use a different piece of paper, please don't actually bin it (yet))

Next, redraw it. Use what you've learned the first time, and redraw it from scratch. (in this case, that might be just specifically the head, or the hair, or the eyes ect - you don't have to bin the whole thing, but sometimes it can really help give you a new perspective)

Once you've done this, unhide your original, compare, this may help you understand what you were doing wrong the first time. Or if there are areas of one that you like- its an opportunity to combine them as you see fit! :)

On a side note for Astarion's Hair, the lovely @mistercrowbar actually posted a breakdown yesterday! (i use p much the same method so-)

I HOPE this was of some use- do feel free to ask any questions if you've got them! i'll try to answer in a more timely manner next time 😅

[benslittlestarkiller]

Violent Ends.

A Vladimir Makarov x Reader story.

”You dare to disrespect me?” His voice is a low growl. Rarely does he ever use it on you. It sends a shiver up and then down your spine. You feel a tingle deep within your core. An ache. One only he could fulfill.

Notes: I decided to write another Vladimir Makarov this time sending it to my bestie for editing so hopefully this one is better than the others. Please let me know if you want a part two ❤️‍🔥🥀

Your love affair had passed in a blur of passion. Like the winter winds of Russia your relationship was turbulent. FIlled with the most glorious ups and the most horrid downs. But you wouldn’t change a thing. He was a traditional man. He demanded respect from you, but he loved when you refused to give it easily. Like today, when you ignored his call for your presence in his office. 

A noise alerted you to his presents behind you. Without even looking at him your could feel the tension radiating off him in waves. Slowly you turned to face him and you could see it in his eyes.

Fury.

”I’m sorry, Vladdy.”

“Are you really?”

”Yes, of course—“

“Tell the truth!” He harshly grips your shoulders, jerking you towards him. “When I give you a command I expect you to listen!” 

“You're not the boss of me!” 

“Oh, but that is where you are mistaken. As your husband, I expect complete obedience—“

And then you made a mistake. You stuck out your tongue at him. Vladimir saw red. But not only was the red he saw the color of fury, but also hot desire, burning lust… fiery passion. 

He pushed you backwards until your booty collided with the wall behind you. So harshly did he push you that your contact with the wall sent a painting falling to the floor. Glass burst, scattering out along the wood grain in all directions.

”This is how you treat your tsar? After all he has done for you?” he hisses out. 

You look up at him, craning your neck and giving him exactly what he wants. Submission.

He descends down like a bird of pray, his teeth digging into your tender skin. He marks you there before descending lower, marking your collarbone before capturing your lips like the Red Army capturing Berlin on the 2nd of May in 1945.

"I do everything for you,” he says, his breath ghosting along your skin, raising goosiebumps in its wake. “I take you wherever you wish to go, I buy you everything you desire… and this is how you repay me. I should punish you.”

"Please, punish me,” you beg. “I deserve it.”

He lifts you up with his strong, sculpted arms, his muscles hardened from a lifetime in the military, evidence of the many battles he had won. You felt your coochie tighten at the sensation of his virile form pressing against your softer, feminine form. 

“Please,” you say again.

”Tell me what you want, baby girl,” he says. “Tell your Vladimir.”

”I… I want… you!”

He pressed his thigh against your most sensitive place, the place where you desired him most, the place only he had ever visited. Your coochie gushed with liquid desire for him and him alone.

His ministrations continued until you both were panting into each other’s mouths. The grunts escaping his lungs doused the fire burning in you with fuel. You were like a living samovar, your lust for Vladimir boiling over inside you.

He reached a hand down between the two of you as he did away with the barriers between you. Your clothes and his fell away like the Berlin Wall crumbling to pieces as it fell on the 9th of November in 1991. 

Sliding your panties aside, he pressed his cock against your dripping entrance. He pushed forward slowly, so that the onion dome-like head, akin to that of St. Basil’s Cathedral, was inserted. But then something terrible happened… nothing happened. Vladimir ceased moving altogether. 

“Vladdy!” you scolded. “What are you doing! Don’t stop!”

He smirked down at you. You went to slap his chest when he caught your hand with one of his much larger hands, the knuckles of his hands dusted with a light smattering of dark hair, the nails trimmed and filed neatly. He brought your hand down to the stem of his fat cock. Slowly you began to pump it like one wrings a wrag after washing dishes at the sink. Though doing dishes and other housework tasks was not something you were accustomed with. That was work for your servants, in particular your maid. 

Your dainty hand glided over the smooth skin of his virile penis. He grunted low in his chest, his head falling forward, forehead resting against your shoulder as his breaths escaped him in pants.

"Please, I need you," you said, attempting to pull him closer to you.

"N-Nyet," he grunted. "This is your punishment."

You whined out desperately but your hand did not cease pumpkin him. His cockhead remained plugging up your entrance as your juice seeped out of him. The movements of your hand grew in intensity, a distinct squelching sound filling the room. A cacophony of your moans and his grunts also filled the room, the heat between you heating up like the inside of a samovar as the tea inside bubbled hotly. 

You felt the twitches in his dick as it erupted, white hot seed filling your insides before Vladimir finally thrust forward, making sure to deposit the rest of it deeply inside you. 

After a moment, your breathing evened out, and he placed you back down on you feet. "This time, it will take, and I will bear you a son. An Heir to the Empire."

[messedupfan]

Benefits of Car Troubles (part 2)

Summary: Things continue to get complicated between Leigh and Y/n.

Warning: Smut 18+

A/N: Sorry it took so long for this, life gets in the way sometimes. Also I didn't edit this, I apologize for the errors. Thank you @karsonromanoff for the suggestion in the beginning! I hope y'all enjoy and let me know your thoughts!

Masterlist | All Stories Taglist | Part 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leigh clears her throat and blinks away the tears as she thinks on her feet. “This is my friend, Y/n. I told you I was going out with them and their girlfriend and Jules,” she explains. “You probably don’t remember that I told you I might spend the night here because you wouldn’t look up from your phone for five seconds to hear me,” her words are sharp and you’re trying to hide your surprise. You knew that she could make up excuses but to flat out lie when there was clear evidence against her statements raised some flags for you. 

The man looks between you and his wife and her attire and the clothes sprawled along the floor. He takes a deep breath through his nose and nods a few times before bursting out into laughter. He starts shaking his head, you and Leigh exchange a quick look then return your gazes to him. “Figures you were seeing someone. I mean,” he starts to catch his breath but finds the situation too amusing. “I have been having an affair for over a year and I’ve been sloppy about hiding it. Come on, you made it so easy! Those pills take me a couple weeks to adjust, not months! I just thought you were in denial or okay with it. But this,” he gestures to you and her, “this explains it.” 

Leigh thought it would hurt to hear the words from Matt. To actually have him admit to what he was doing behind her back. But it does the opposite. It fills her with a relief that the problems with her marriage weren’t because of her. They started with him. However, she is pretty upset that instead of coming to her with these problems, he found someone else to be with while still being married to her. “So that’s it then, we’re getting a divorce,” Leigh says as she pushes him out of the apartment but it looks like Matt has more to say. 

She shuts and locks the door and while he’s banging on the door, demanding to be let back in, she leans her body against the wooden surface. You are pulling your sleep pants off of her and burying your face in her pussy without her having to ask you to. Leigh moans as loud and dramatically as she can to assure that Matt can hear her. “Oh yeah, babe! You’re so much better than my husband!” She shouts and that’s what causes the banging to stop. But so do you, Leigh looks down and doesn’t find you between her legs anymore. 

She looks around, confused that you disappeared. A soft knock on the door behind her startles her enough to make her jump. She opens the door and that’s when her eyes open. Leigh sits up and scans the unfamiliar room to remind herself where she is. There was a picture of you and who she assumes is your dad working on a car on the dresser and she smiles. You were a little kid in the picture and she thought you looked so sweet. Leigh relaxes a little as she tries to remember falling asleep, but she couldn’t. 

Leigh knew she was tired from last night and this morning, but she didn't realize how exhausted she was until you left her alone in your room.  Sliding out of your bed, she dresses into something appropriate and makes herself coffee in the kitchen. That's when you come in to check on her again. “Hey sleepyhead, you're up,” you greet with a warm smile. “Teddy had a question for me and when I came back to you, you were fast asleep. I thought I’d let you rest up while I helped open the place up.” You meet her in the kitchen and kiss her cheek. “How’d you sleep?” 

The machine stops pouring the beverage and Leigh takes the mug before she answers your question. “I slept pretty well, but had a weird dream,” she adds a few things into the coffee. She was happy that you had a similar taste as her. 

You frown at the mention of her dream and lean against the counter by the sink, across from her. “Was it bad weird or good weird?” 

Leigh shrugs, “It was just weird. Ended pretty good though.” 

You raise your eyebrows in interest, “Oh? How so?” 

She smirks as she sets the mug down and steps closer to you. “Well, it ended the same way things started last night,” she says as she kisses you on the lips. “With me against the front door and your tongue working its magic,” she continues. You smile at the thought of her having a dirty dream about you and how normal all of this feels between the two of you. Her in your apartment, making herself coffee. Of course a part of you wants to ask her to make up her mind already and choose you. But you quiet the voices in your head and stay in this moment with her. 

“I,” you start, wanting to say the words she already asked you not to. “I was going to order lunch and came to see if you wanted any or if you had somewhere to be?” 

Leigh steps back and you watch her grow tense from your question. “I probably should go,” she says softly. You nod, keeping your thoughts to yourself. It was better to keep your mouth shut than to do something ridiculous like beg her to stay. Part of her wishes that you would, tell her that this is more than just sex for you. That you would make promises to her that would give her the strength to leave her husband. But another part of her is thankful for your patience. Thankful that you were sticking around, waiting for her to be ready. Waiting for her to get her life together before you asked more of her. 

Once Leigh and her car are gone, you have your assistant order lunch for everyone while you stay in your apartment during the break. You don’t know if you can do this with her anymore. Was it worth it? Was she worth it? Yes, your heart answers almost immediately. It wasn’t what you wanted. Never had you ever thought you would find yourself in such a situation where you fell in love with a married woman. When this started, she had said the marriage was practically over. That there were divorce papers being drawn up and everything. Then you slowly found out that wasn’t the case, by then it was already too late for you. She was so easy to fall in love with. 

A knock on your door disrupts your thoughts. You open it to find Teddy holding a couple takeout bags and a drink tray. “Thought you might like some company,” she says with a soft smile. You open the door wider and step to the side to allow her further into the apartment. “So, she spent the night,” she starts once you’ve joined her at the table. You nod as you unwrap your burger. “Is that progress or was that the last time?” 

You sigh and think while you chew your food. “I don’t know. With her… it’s hard to tell what is in my head and what is true.” 

She nods and plays with her fries a bit, “What’s in your head right now?”

You shrug and take a sip of the soda you got, “That she truly loves me and that she wants us to work and that she is going to tell her husband about us. That she will continue to fight for us when she does tell him.” The admission forms a lump in your throat and fills your body with doubt. None of that is true. Teddy asks what the truth is and you push your burger away from you. “I think I might have to end it. If our love is real, me walking away could prove that. Either we find our way back to each other when the time is right or… and as much as this pains me to say… we don’t.” 

Teddy reaches across the table and squeezes your hand. “It’s up to you,” she states, bringing no comfort or clarity. It wasn’t her job to do that, though it would have been nice. You knew where she stood in this situation. In her mind, you were only the getaway car for Leigh. Whatever relationship you built with Leigh wasn’t going to last forever. Part of you agreed with her but otherwise, you wanted to have hope that she could be proven wrong. The two of you finish your meals in silence and then get back to work. 

You don’t hear from Leigh that night or the next day or the day after that. She hadn’t made a promise that she was going to call you later but you still expected at least a text message. You thought that night she spent with you had meant as much to her as it did to you. She told you that she loved you and now she couldn’t bother to at least tell you that she was okay. Unless it was just her way of paying you for fixing her car. In that case, it made you feel cheap and used. You tried not to think of it like that. It was just a seduction technique when she said that’s what that was. 

Nonetheless, by the end of the third week when you haven’t heard back from her, you go out to a bar. You pick up the first girl that catches your attention, you fuck her in the back seat of her car, and you go home alone. Looking at yourself in the mirror the next day is a challenge but you need to move on from her. You’re almost certain she has moved on from you. Maybe with her husband or maybe with someone new. Someone who can handle a physical relationship without complicating it with feelings. You just wish she at least let you go before she did. So you could stop feeling like you had cheated on her. It puts you in a bad mood all day even though you feel justified in your actions. 

However, you don’t go out again and when a client flirts with you a few days later, you don’t reciprocate it. Teddy tells you to stop beating yourself up about it and encourages you to find someone new. Someone available. Then you remind her that the last time you took her advice, you took a creative writing class and ended up here. She points out that when she made that suggestion, getting involved with a married woman was never part of it. 

“Don’t blame me for your shitty life choices,” she says before she leaves the building for the day. You shake your head and start closing up the shop. It was then that the ringtone you had set for a specific person rings for the first time in what feels like forever. 

Your heart picks up and you look at the name on the contact. You blink a couple of times to assure yourself that it’s real. Then you quickly answer. “Hello,” you fumble on your greeting and make a face a yourself for sounding so stupid. 

“Hey,” she whispers, “I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to contact you again.” 

“I figured that you decided to commit to your husband,” you respond, not wanting to dance around the truth anymore. 

The line goes quiet and you wonder if she hung up on you but when you look at the screen, the numbers on the call continue to rise. You put the phone back to your ear and wait for her to say something. As she continues to be quiet, you climb up the stairs so you can sit down while you wait for her. Debating whether or not you should hang up on her since she clearly doesn’t care to stay for a half decent conversation with you. 

“I chose you,” she states a bit louder this time, no longer whispering. 

“You have a funny way of showing it,” you reply in a short tone. Tired of being strung along. 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry about that,” she says sincerely. “I just,” she sighs. “I’ve been focusing on me at the moment, because in order to be with you I have to do that. I have to focus on me and on my happiness and on getting out of my marriage.” Guilt starts to creep in on you but had she told you any of this before she practically ghosted you without a warning, you would have been more understanding. You might have waited. 

“I slept with someone,” you say, not knowing what else to say. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong,” you take a breath to gather your words to express your frustration. “You left without another word and never responded to my texts so I figured I would move on from you and I slept with someone. It wasn’t good and I couldn’t get you out of my mind… I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You’re not entitled to it but… I don’t know, I thought I should be honest with you. At least.” 

The call ends as your rambling does, you scoff to yourself and drop the device on the coffee table in front of you. Maybe it's finally over, the thought brings no relief. Only more heartache. But then your phone lights up with a notification. The message just says, “Let me in.” Confused, you get up and open the door. Finding no one around, you hurry down the stairs to open the entrance to the shop door. 

“Leigh?” you call out to the darkness. She comes into the light and your heart fills with relief at the sight of her. But then it tightens painfully and tears spring to the back of your eyes. “You’re here,” you say with surprise. 

“I’m here,” she says as she starts to undo the belt around her trench coat. “I’m here for you,” she starts working on the buttons. Knowing where this was headed, you put your hand over hers and shake your head to stop her. 

“I can't, Leigh,” your voice cracks as you keep your gaze low, unable to look her in the eye. Because the both of you know that you're lying. You can and you want to, so badly. But you have to push her away. You have put a stop to this. Otherwise you're sure you'll go insane waiting around for her when she inevitably disappears from you again. 

“I left him,” she says but you don't look at her yet. You don't want to know what she looks like when she lies to you because it doesn’t feel like the truth. “We still need to have the papers drawn up but I left him. When I went home after that night he told me that he was in love with someone else and—”

“So you didn't leave him,” you sigh, slightly disappointed. “He left you,” you remove your hand from hers. Before this, you already questioned whether or not she really loved you. This brings it to a whole other level of uncertainty. 

“No,” Leigh steps closer, “I left him. I moved out. I'm living with my mom right now because I couldn't stay there anymore. I chose you!” She takes your hand and you let her but you don’t close your fingers around her. You’re not ready to let her win this one. Not yet, at least. Not when she has left you hanging for months. She can’t just come back and expect you to accept her with open arms. Not when she hurt you the way she did. Not when she made you believe she really loved you, then didn’t contact you once afterwards. Had she taken a second to let you know that she was busy or that things have been hectic and she will update you when she can, you might have been more willing to hear her out right now. But you’ve been going insane with scenarios of what could be happening to her and thinking that you did something to drive her away. 

You lift your head and look out to the street where other businesses were. Several of them are still open. You could see other people and wonder if their lives were easier than this. You almost wish you could trade places with them. None of them know Leigh, none of them have been hurt by her. None of them had to think about her everyday. “What would you have done had he not told you about his affair? Would you have told him about yours that day? Have you told him?”

“I… I don't know what I would have done. I might've waited a little longer before telling him. But that–” 

“So he knows about us?” You finally look at her and you can see the gears turning in her head. You know the answer before she says it. 

“Well, no, but what does it matter now? My marriage is finally over! We can have this,” she gestures between the two of you and tries to pull you closer by your hand but she is only able to pull your hand to her chest. Instead of being discouraged, she puts your hand flat against her chest where her heart beats. “We can really have this. Isn't that enough?”

In truth, you want it to be. You want the love to be enough but you don’t know that when she leaves here in the morning that she will return. Even a little text message. And without that small piece of trust… nothing will be enough to make this work. “How do I know that you mean it? How do I know that you’re not just using me because you feel bad right now? How do I know that this is as real for you as it is for me?”  

Leigh places her hand on your cheek and, against your  better judgment, you lean into her touch. Her hand is a little cold but the warmth of your cheek warms it up. “I guess you’re just going to have to trust me,” she drops the hand she held hostage so she can have both of her hands on your face. “Please,” her pleading tone creates a lump in your throat. “Please let me love you. Please be patient with me. Please give me one more chance,” she pulls your forehead against hers and closes her eyes. She doesn’t try to kiss you because she knows that will lead you to believe this is only sexual for her. Instead she holds you to show you that this is intimate. That she feels what you feel and your heart can’t help but reach out for her. You place your hands on her hips and bring her in for a tight embrace. She follows your lead and removes her hands from your face to wrap her arms around your shoulders.

After a few more minutes of standing outside you step out of the hug and invite her inside to your apartment. She kisses your cheek as she accepts and lets you lead the way. Once you’ve locked the doors and brought her into your home you ask if she wants to take her coat off after the both of you remove your shoes and she blushes as she hesitates. “What?” You ask. 

“Um, I had a very different idea of how this night would play out. I think it’s best that I keep this on,” she says as she sits on the couch. 

“Are you completely naked under that?” A slow smirk curls your lips as you ask.

Leigh crosses and uncrosses her legs as she shifts nervously under your amused gaze. “Technically, we’re all completely naked under our clothes.” 

You can’t stop the laughter that bubbles out of you as you join her on the couch. You put your arm around her and gently undo the tie up belt on her coat. “How did you think this night was going to play out?”

She watches your every move carefully so she can know what she is allowed to do. But the energy shift makes her feel safe enough to do exactly what she wanted to do when she got in the car to get here. “I could tell you, but I think it would be better to show you,” she stands up and stands in front of you as she opens up the coat to reveal her red lingerie and her smooth skin. The coat falls to the floor as you find it hard to breathe. Leigh only makes it tougher as she straddles your lap. “I missed you,” she whispers against your lips, without kissing you. 

You reach out to touch her but she pushes your hand away and shakes her head. She adjusts her position so that your thigh is pressed up against her pussy. She starts to rub herself against your thigh and you have to bite your lip to keep from touching her. Then she makes a satisfied noise and you can’t help but try to kiss her. Which makes her rise up and take a couple steps back. Seeing her arousal on soaking her underwear makes your mouth water, knowing how good she tastes. You let out a frustrated sigh through your nose. “Are you trying that power play bullshit?” You repeat the words she said to you the last time that the two of you were together. 

Leigh hooks her thumbs through the straps of her panties, “Maybe I wanted to give you something special. You deserve a special night my love.” As she talks, she shimmies out of her red panties and instead of leaving the garment on the floor she turns around to give you a full view of her bare ass as she bends over and picks it up. You have to stop yourself from falling to your knees and burying your face in her pussy. She spins on her heels again and teases you with her panties. She tosses it at you but that’s not what you want. It’s her. It’s all of her. 

You no longer remember what air is as you watch her so closely. Leigh enjoys your hungry gaze. To reward you, she slips two of her fingers between her folds to collect her juices. She makes you think that she is going to put her fingers in your mouth but instead she lightly touches your bottom lip, leaving some of her arousal behind, then sucks her own fingers. Lost in the moment you slowly run your tongue along your lip to savor the taste. Never taking your eyes off of her. When she is done, she removes her bra and climbs on your lap again. She runs her nails through your hair as the two of you gaze into each other's eyes. Having her body so close to yours and not being able to touch her was driving you crazier than when she wouldn’t talk to you because she is right here, available to you and she is making you wait even longer.

“Please,” you finally begin to beg. “Please, Leigh, I need to touch you. I need you, baby, I need you so bad.” 

She stops playing with your hair and she leans in for a kiss, “Then have me.” 

No longer restraining yourself, you eagerly meet her lips with yours and place your hands on the sides of her abdomen. As you kiss her, you move your hands all over her body. On her thighs, her ass, her breasts, everywhere. Leigh does the same, she starts grabbing at your clothing, trying to undress you. Feeling hot, you break the kiss to pull your shirt off and then quickly try to unbuckle your belt and undo your jeans fast enough but you want to focus on her so much more than your clothing. Leigh grabs your hands to make you stop and when you don’t she calls your name which snaps you out of your trance. “What?” You look at her breathlessly. 

“Slow down, Y/n. There’s no need to rush, I’m not going anywhere,” she promises and you are hit with that reality. She is staying, she doesn’t have anywhere else to be for once. You nod and take a breath to get some oxygen to your brain. “I’m yours,” she says as if she can read your mind and knows that you need to hear that. “I’m all yours,” she repeats. You kiss her again, this time slower than before. You press your naked chest against hers and enjoy the feel of her skin against yours. You weave your fingers through her soft brown hair and then you gently remove her from your lap and place her on the seat beside you.

You fully pull your pants and underwear off and kick them to the ground. You stand up and you toss your socks on your pile of clothes. “Come on,” you hold your hand out for her. “Let’s take this to the bedroom.” She takes your hand and the two of you practically skip to your bedroom. 

The next day, you don’t have much time to be with her. Your alarm goes off, waking the both of you and you find out that you have to drive her home because she revealed to you that she used one of the car apps to get to the shop. You were shocked that she did that while wearing what she wore last night. She gets dressed and you throw on something quickly to get her home so that you have time to shower before work. When you are saying goodbye, a part of you is thinking that it’s going to happen again. That she isn’t going to keep the promises that she made to you last night. That you’re going to text her later and be met with no response from her. 

“Can I call you later?” She asks after she kisses you one last time. 

“Yeah,” you say, pretending to be cool and not showing how excited you are. 

“Okay,” she grins at you. “I love you,” she says.

“I love you too,” you mirror her expression. Leigh steps out of your truck and you laugh as you watch her run up the steps of her mom’s house. 

Things run smoothly for a few weeks. You text each other good morning and goodnight everyday. You talk on the phone for at least an hour at night. You take her on a couple of dates in another town to avoid running into people she knows, so she doesn’t have to feel like she has to explain herself. Then one morning, she doesn’t respond with a sweet good morning message. You give her a call at the usual time and she doesn’t pick up or call you back. You force yourself to sleep without her goodnight text. 

Unsettled, you’re not sure if you’re supposed to spam her with messages to let her know that whatever she is going through, she doesn’t have to do it alone. You want to let her know that you’re there for her in any way possible. You want to hear from her. You need to know that she is okay. But you stop yourself from sending her those kinds of messages and trust that she will come back to you when she is ready. You read through the messages from the past few weeks to see if you said the wrong thing or misinterpreted something from her. Maybe she was letting you know that she didn’t really want you anymore and you didn’t see it. Maybe she fell out of love with you and you were so blind with excitement that you didn’t pick up on it. Maybe, maybe, maybe… 

You fall asleep reading her last message that says she loves you and couldn’t wait for the date that Saturday. The next few days, you force your mind to shut off so that you can focus on work and trust that when you go to her mom’s house on Saturday night, she will be ready for you to pick her up. Teddy notices you spinning out again and she is tired of watching you put yourself through this again. She wanted to do something about it. She wanted to grab you and shake you out of it but she knew that she had to stay out of it. If she tried to intervene not only you would you hate and hurt her, but you could end up doing something stupid because of it. So, instead of telling you what she thinks about Leigh and the way she treats you, she makes sure that you don’t eat lunch alone. She even stays for dinner a couple of nights. And avoids talking about Leigh at all costs. But she contributes to distracting your mind and trying to get you to laugh. 

Then the time comes for you to go pick up Leigh. You text her one last time to see if she’ll respond and when she doesn’t you’re uncertain if you should show up. But you do. You drive to her mothers house and nervously adjust your tie with a bouquet of flowers as you ring the doorbell and wait for someone to answer the door. 

When someone does, it’s not who you were waiting for. It was her sister that you’ve seen in a few pictures from Leigh’s social media profiles. “You need to go,” Jules says as she keeps the door close to her. 

“What happened?” You ask as your heart drops. 

“She can’t see you anymore. You have to leave,” she states more firmly. 

“Please, I just need to talk to her. I just need to hear it from her.” 

“You have a lot of nerve showing up here after what you did! Do you get off on seeing my sister in pain?” This time she grabs the bouquet and throws them to the ground and stomps on the flowers. “Leave!” 

Hearing her sister be so demanding, Leigh rushes to the front of the house where she sees your confused expression just above her sisters’ head. “Oh no,” she says under her breath. “Jules!” She calls out and she pulls her sister away from the door. “It’s fine,” she says. Knowing that this will contradict the story she told her family. “It’s fine,” she repeats and tears spring to her eyes as she sees you standing there looking more hurt than she has ever seen you before. “Can you give us some privacy?” She asks her sister. 

“Have you lost your mind already? Have the–”

“Jules! Please, just give us some privacy!” Leigh demands. 

Jules huffs and she glares at you as she walks away. You nervously clear your throat as Leigh steps out of the house and closes the front door behind her. “I-I brought you flowers but, um, your sister hates me for some reason so they’re on the floor.” You point to the crushed flowers that Leigh closed the door on. It was quite the image. Kind of what you think your heart might look like after the way Leigh has treated it. “What’s happening, Leigh?” 

Leigh licks her lips as she thinks of what to say but she is so afraid to tell you. It was hard enough to tell her family. Looking at her life, she felt so messy and not at all herself. But she had to tell you eventually. She wished that you were the type of person she painted you to be in her family’s eyes. The person that left her when she told you. So she could deal with this on her own. So that you wouldn’t actually leave her and that she could leave you and have it hurt less for her. She could handle ending things with you on her terms. She’s not sure she would be okay with you abandoning her.  

With a deep breath, she looks to her twisted fingers and says, “I’m pregnant.” She never considered that you would hug her and choose to stay.

Taglist: @madamevirgo @wqndanat @thisischaismagic @artisannat @olsensnpm @evenbeingcrazy1998 @bentleywolf29 @awkwardmandalorian @agaymilflover @sayah13 @princessprudy  @likefirenrain @tearsofglitter @feltlikethat @piningismymiddlename @the-writer-arcane @abimess @diaryoflife @natashasilverfox @karsonromanoff @maximofflover @lovelyy-moonlight @red1culous @jovialsublimecomputer @natasha-maximoff @iliketozoneout

[midgardian-witch]

snuggle with robbie<3

It took me a bit (I think I posted that perticular prompt list almost a month ago 😅) but i finally finished your drabble, anon 💙

I hope you like it. I did handwave the 'purposefully' part of the prompt a little - I hope that's ok.

A Lack Of Patience

tags: established relationship | Dom!Reader | sub!Robbie | dry humping | coming in pants | gn!reader

ships: Robbie Paulson/Reader

AO3

Edit: added AO3 link

[SNUGGLE] Person A purposefully starts grinding against Person B while they’re snuggling.

With the sun setting outside, the last rays of sunshine peek into the bedroom. Freshly showered and cozy, you're lying next to your boyfriend. You had returned from work later than you had planned and while exhausted from the day you were not tired enough to fall asleep just yet. 

"I missed you," Robbie sighs against your neck as his arms pull you even closer into his embrace. The bed is big enough for the two of you and yet you're cuddled so close, your back to his front, as if you only had a twin size to share. 

"I've only been gone for a few hours," you murmur, a giddy smile on your face. Robbie always got so very clingy when you were gone for even the smallest amount of time and you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy the attention. 

"'s too long."

He's too cute. You can't help but laugh quietly at him. "Well, I'm back now. You have me all to yourself again, baby," you tell him, your hand resting on his as you snuggle further into his arms. You shift into a more comfortable position and as you wiggle against him he gasps. Before you can ask if he's alright you feel Robbie move against you, the familiar weight of his cock rutting against your behind. 

Robbie catches himself and stills his movements with an embarrassed whine. 

"S-Sorry. I didn't mean to. I just-" 

Before he can continue further you rub your ass against his clothed erection making Robbie gasp. With a wicked grin on your face you coo: "Missed me that much, hm? My poor baby."

Embarrassed by his own eagerness Robbie buries his face in the crook of your neck, whimpering at how good you make him feel. "So much. Missed you so much. Please, can I-" He doesn't need to put into words what he wants, his body already doing all the talking. His hips move on their own volition, grinding against you from behind, seeking that delicious friction. 

It’s a heady feeling being wanted, needed, craved like this. After your hard day at work you don’t have the energy for more than this: Robbie using any part of you he can reach in this position to get off. And yet you don’t feel used, not with the way Robbie is aching for it, broken moans filling your ears as he apologizes profusely for his neediness. It’s almost comical how he doesn’t seem to realize that this, his eagerness to have and please you, his blatant and unwavering attraction and desire for you, is what turns you on like nothing else. 

“Tell me how it feels, baby.”

His only answer is mindless babbling, broken off by gasps and hiccups. “Feels so good. I’m so sorry. You feel so good and I missed you so much,” he whines as he continues to grind against you from behind.

You feel his precum start to leak through his boxers as his movements become more erratic. Usually you would make him hold off his orgasm, keep him on that edge until he was really begging for it but you decide to have mercy on your poor boyfriend tonight.

“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so well,” you praise him, his hips stuttering in response. 

“So close. I’m sorry- I can’t-”  

Sweet, darling Robbie. Even lost in his own pleasure he still doesn’t want to disappoint you by coming too early. Such a good boy. And what else can you do but spoil your babyboy rotten. At least for now.

“It’s alright. Come for me.”

You’re not sure if he actually waited for your permission or if it’s purely coincidental but as soon as the words leave your mouth you hear Robbie’s breath hitch and his cock twitch in the telltale signs of his approaching climax. You can feel his movements stutter as he spills his seed inside his boxers like an overeager teenager. He buries his face deeper inside the crook of your neck, desperately trying to muffle his whimpers. 

It takes a while for Robbie to come down from his high, all the while whispering endless thank yous into your skin and refusing to even part an inch from you, not even to change out of his completely soaked underwear. But you couldn’t really care less at that moment, too horny to sleep and yet too exhausted from your day to do anything about it. So as you return to simply cuddling with Robbie you plan on how to teach your babyboy some patience in the morning.

[strvwdere]

He's been on my mind and my dash today. Uploaded from the dox archive, briefly edited, and still doesn't have a title! Taking suggestions in the tags <3

Edit: title added!

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"Unannounced"

Aki Hayakawa x gnc!Reader drabble (~1k words)

CW!s: Fluff, brief mention of blood, suggestions of violence and hookup culture, one (1) use of profanity, no pronouns or anatomy descriptions for reader, JP urban life context, Aki is a sweetie pie, **note at the end if u care to read!

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Thinking about the first time you ever put your lips on Aki Hayakawa.

It was far more innocent than others might suspect. With your jobs and daily lives entrenched in spectacular horrors, it was practically expected for those in your position to blow off steam with one another. You'll admit you'd had a brief tryst or two, but now you had a new partner. And Aki didn’t seem like the type.

It's 02:37am and the train car is blissfully empty, not a sloshed up salaryman in sight. Aki had offered you a seat but chose to stand himself, claiming that he'd likely fall asleep if he took a moment to rest his long legs. You could see the truth of it on his face, but also knew he looked most comfortable staying on guard. Frankly, you wouldn't be surprised if the man slept with one eye open, literally.

He's got one hand on the baggage rail above you, the other fiddling with his lighter in the pocket of his suit pants. He catches you staring down at his sneakers, scanning them with casual curiosity, when he prompts,

"What?"

You blink, "They're clean."

“Huh?”

Aki thinks you must be blind, but he’s not rude enough to call you on it. Today’s shift had been your first time patrolling Shibuya together, so it was brutal, naturally. There’s not one article of clothing between the two of you without blood smeared on it somewhere. Standard rite of passage.

“The department chair said you like to stay busy. You a sneakerhead? There’s not a single scuff on those.”

“Not sure what the state of my footwear has to do with anything.”

“Sorry.”

You glance off to the side, not wanting him to presume scrutiny any further.

One thing about Aki- 90% of the time he’s vaguely dismissive and the other 10% he’s shy. 100% of the time you’re dogshit at reading him in the moment.

The ambiance of the train rattling down its track settles over you both. Stops coming and going, announcements crackling through the speakers and flashing on the overhead digital monitors as you pass through. Your lids are about to slip shut when he speaks, almost mumbling to himself.

“I like to take care of things.”

You roll your head along the back of the seat to look placidly in his direction again.

“Come again?”

He clears his throat. 

“I like to take care of my stuff. Is that a bad thing?”

“Not really, just surprising to me.”

“What’s so different about it?”

Your eyes follow the long column of his tie from the barely loosened knot at his throat, down his slim torso, to the pointed end that meets perfectly at the top of his belt buckle. Meticulous, you think. Meeting his eyes again as a wry smile tugs faintly at your lips, you state, 

“You’re a serious guy, Aki Hayakawa.”

“Yeah, guess so.”

He turns away, shielding his face with his arm still resting on the baggage rail, and casting his gaze over his toned shoulder. You’d assume he was dismissing you again, were it not for the visible tip of his ear tinted the lightest shade of pink. Look at that, you muse internally. The other 10%.

-The next stop is Ueno, G16. Please change here for the Hibiya line, the JR lines, and the Keisei line. This train is bound for Asakusa.-

You uncross your legs preparing to stand, semi-accidentally brushing your boot across the width of his shin as you do. He doesn’t flinch, but continues to avoid eye contact.

“Your stop, right?”

“Yep,” you quip, pulling the strings in your limbs against their will. Exhaustion is hitting you more fully now as you gather yourself. You’ll test Aki’s buttons another time, you decide. A time when a hot shower and your mattress aren’t demanding your presence so immediately.

-Arriving at Ueno, G16. The doors will open on the left side.-

“Don’t forget we’re touching base at HQ first tomorrow, and bring your report. They’ll want one from both of us since you’re an internal transfer.”

“Sir, yes sir.” 

You rise carefully to your feet, slinging your bag over your shoulder and steeling yourself for the next leg of your commute.

You’re mid-reach for the strap above when the train activates its breaks, rocking you forward and directly into Aki’s firm chest. An arm comes up to steady you against him while your outstretched hand aims for the baggage rail, landing on top of his own instead.

His voice is as rigid as the rest of him when he asks,

“You good?”

You tilt your head up sheepishly to reply and are struck by the fine architecture of his flexing jawline. Here you are hip to hip, eye to eye, and he’s still avoiding your gaze, burning holes into the wall of the train car behind you.

Whether it’s impetuousness or sleeplessness, something overcomes you. Rising onto the balls of your feet, arm pulling yourself up and in, you plant a soft, fleeting kiss to the underside of Aki’s chin.

-Ueno. This is Ueno station. Please watch your step.-

“Take good care of me, partner.”

-The next stop is Ueno-hirokoji, G15. Please transfer here for the Toei Oedo line.-

His arm leaves your waist and your hand uncovers his as you step away, dashing onto the platform just before the doors begin to close.

As the train pulls away, you’re left with a lingering sense of frustration and the impression of his body heat still ghosting your skin.

What you didn’t catch behind those doors was Aki, collapsed on the seat with his head in his hands, blushing bright red all the way down to his collar. 

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©strvwdere.tumblr.com; est. 02/2023; no quotes, reposts, or translations 🍓

**Note: I really wanted to make a cute reference to the way the phrase “yoroshiku onegaishimasu” is used in Japanese. One of its many meanings is “please treat me favorably” or “please take good care of me” and is often used in introductions and establishing coworker connections. That said, there is no direct translation to English so I’m afraid it came out a little clunky here (in my head, the reader essentially says “Please take care of me, Hayakawa Senpai). Lmk if you guys have any ideas! This was a quick bit I thought up while in the middle of my JP studies in preparation for going abroad. Had a lot of fun toying with our favorite Devil Hunter and looking through Tokyo-metro's website- that level of organization is A1!

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Word Find Tag

Catch up p8, June edition. Thanks for the tag Elli 💜 (@i-can-even-burn-salad)

My words: cruel, chain, cloth and color

Your words: burn, bleed, bother, and broken

Gently tagging: @little-peril-stories, @menagerie-of-monsters, @dont-touch-my-soup, and You, if you'd like :D (Open Tag)

To repay you for your patience, I am going to attempt to pull these words from the two Nykim chapters I have lol

I feel like I should just blanket CW for captivity, restraints, and torture (whipping, aftermath of whipping, broken bones) XD

Cruel Riah

Resignation flashed in Nykim’s eyes, there and then gone. His eyes fluttered closed as he chewed and swallowed, the pink tip of his fox tongue darting out to capture a stray crumb.  “Thank you,” he whispered, letting his chin drop to his chest. Gods, he looked so tired. Riah stared at him, trying to figure him out. His reputation wasn’t exactly matching up to the man in front of her. Maybe it was situational, but all he had done was tease her when he could’ve been demanding, demeaning, or downright cruel.   He might be the world’s best con man, but her heart twinged nonetheless. Watching people suffer had never been her favorite past-time. And it would be unfair if she offered food only to take it away after one bite.   

Chain Nykim

“Answer, please answer!”  She wasn’t supposed to say that part, maybe, because it sounded like she was shoved into the table for it, based on the thud and clatter of whatever was on the damned thing.  The effort wasn’t worth whatever price she would pay for that. He wouldn’t.  Not that it mattered because the whip came down again and again in quick succession, giving him no time. The shock of the blows reverberated in his bones, the barbs rending his flesh with each strike.   Air hissed between his teeth, chain links embedded in his palms, sweat slickened his forehead, and the whip kept coming down.  Leather met lacerated skin with a sickeningly wet slap. The woman didn’t appear accustomed to witnessing torture because her breath kept hitching in the background. At least she couldn’t see–fuck! 

Cloth Riah

One look, and she’d had to walk straight back out. Merrick had turned and raised one eyebrow. Pushing past the rush of anxiety that look provoked, Riah’d told him she needed to clean Nykim’s back, or she wouldn’t be able to see to judge if he healed himself or not.  Now, a cold sweat prickled her brow as she pressed a cloth that was no longer white to Nykim’s shoulder. She dunked it in water that was no longer clear, rung it out, and went back for another pass.  The bleeding had slowed. Riah couldn’t say if that was a good thing or not. Couldn’t say if her stomach churned more from the crimson-soaked fabric in her hands or the clearly visible ruin of this man’s back.

Color Riah

“Like what… you see?”  “Yes,” she snapped, “I like seeing horrible people like you in the position you’re currently in.”  The smirk didn’t fall from his face, but the laughter left his eyes. “Yes, of course. I deserve–”  Something shifted in his arm, something that made that awful bone-on-bone sound she was so familiar with from her hip, and he cut off, pursing his lips as his face lost all color.  It wasn’t until then that she noticed the other signs of pain she’d conveniently missed before. The tension in his thighs, evident through the tight black material of his pants. The way his chest rose and fell just a bit too fast. The barely visible sheen of sweat coating his skin.  This man was in agony, but instead of moaning or screaming or even yelling at her to help, he was sitting there on shattered knees, hanging from broken arms, conversing with her. Oh yeah, and couldn’t forget his shredded back.  Gods, she was a terrible person. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t. I didn’t mean that.”   “Yeah, you did,” Nykim panted. “Which–fuck–which is curious, considering the shit company you keep.”  Riah winced. 

[peachysunrize]

- 🧸

I appreciate you believing in me x and the advice! also i've decided i'll let you read through it instead of scrolling... scrolling... scrolling through the Aemond x reader tag to find it 🤗

also 🪴 emoji anon's tho(ugh)t? i'm salivating 🤭 your response to it too? "–sweaty and red with a tight grip around his cock – keeping himself up by a hand on his desk while he fucks his fist 😩" i'm adding onto this... below >

imagine... betrothed!reader catches him another instance and it's just before he's unlaced his breaches, and tugged his small clothes/shift down (or shoved his hand down the fine linen...) and then *boom!* he remembers to shut his chambers doors so as he turns around he sees you...

his doublet already unbuttoned and his chest on display, long silvery locks disheveled and normally his demeanour one of stoicism now flushed. don't get me STARTED on the tent in his breaches which is uncomfortably strained against the seam, his palm having started inching towards it, squeezing to feel any sense of stimulation whilst he awkwardly stands there a–bit too rigidly

then fem!reader treads forward ever so slowly to not fret him like a predator would it's prey and replaces his hand by dipping hers into the already loose breaches (including his small clothes/shift) to take ahold of him, grasping the base before untieing the loosened trousers to pull him out – him slapping against his revealed abdomen. during the entirety of this Aemond has leant backwards to steady himself against his desk (which is digging into his back but he doesn't care...), his eye locked onto where reader's hand is as small pants and chocked gasps spill out by accident, pupil dilated to the point his violet iris is just a tiny ring.

squeeze, pull, flick of the wrist, tug, thumb at the slit, slide, repeat. and Aemond is just trying to figure how she learnt this and where from, but he'll worry about that later focusing instead on a decent rhythm to rock his hips into her soft grip in comparison to past 'ventures' with his calloused, scarred hand. and he's leaking onto the floor, all over her palm and fingers wrapped around him, the pace becoming quicker with each stroke as the distinct sound of wet flesh echoes around his quarters' four–walls.

knees trembling, practically begging to give out as he realises he's so close and too soon. latching onto reader's o shaped fist as he tries to pry it away. twitching and pulsing, the veins prominent as the purple–y fuschia bulb is engorged to the point it's hurting for release. "N–no!..", he grunts out before streaks of white defile his betrothed's hand and his own, the milky substance oozes out, dripping downwards.

head thrown backwards, now flaccid length jutted out, mouth slightly agape as the silent scream fades into the atmosphere and buckled legs. having propped himself to sit a–top his desk to prevent from falling to his knees... a sight to behold and store in reader's memory bank for 'sake keeping'.

(i couldn't help it! so this is actually my 2nd writing attempt... and 🤞 fully edited, this was 'tamer' than what i have in mind for the other one i'm writing but this was just a *practice* run! x if there's any advice to give i'm welcoming it with OPEN ARMS!)

OMG I LOVE THIS!!!!! Off imagine how shy he’d be after that, trying to apologize and say sorry but reader brings her fingers to her lips and sucks them clean and he almost comes again SJOZSJISJZIAJAKAJIA

Babe you’re doing absolutely amazing I loveeeeeee how detailed and descriptive you are!!! Love your style bby🥹✨

[naraven]

crabby patty

idk where i was going with that title LMFAOOO but wow! another astro attorney piece!

wish i could draw, i feel like that would help varying up this event but unfortunately i was not blessed with artistic enough hands for that. for now, enjoy this silly piece of grumpy joachim and a crab!

wc // 700

tw // none

It seems the new edition of the Steambird came out this morning.

Joachim stretched into the early light of the Fontaine dawn, having been sat in the same position for so long. After opening the curtains, the knock on the door alerted them that a new Steambird was at the door.

With more vigor than ever, Joachim was more than eager to pick up more and more commissions. For some reason, it felt like they were getting paid for something else than mora. More accomplished, and ready to take on new challenges.

Their eyes skimmed over the commissions page once more, noting that they weren’t the only one that seemed to be doing the Steambird commissions. And once more, running their eyes over the page for the best one for them revealed a commission that they thought was best for them.

“Massive… Crab beast? And they want me to bring back the shell.”

Doesn’t sound impossible. In fact, Joachim strides out of the Hotel Debord with a one-track mind to kill a giant crab and bring back the shell.

If only they knew how to get there…

~~~

After asking the Traveler for directions, Joachim was now able to experience the mystical waters of Fontaine. To say the sight was beautiful would be an understatement.

It was their first ever time swimming. Not that there wasn’t any water in Sumeru, just that if they had hopped into the water at Port Ormos they would attract many eyes towards them.

And the sights they saw! So many different things to inspect, yet they only had a moment to simply take in the sight of this whole other world before diving into the depths of Fontaine waters.

It doesn’t take long before Joachim finds the small cave that leads to a teleport waypoint. From there, they can easily see the crab commission details. From this distance, of course, the crab is unable to notice and see them.

Well. The commission wasn’t going to finish itself, was it?

With that mindset in their head, they jump into the seemingly normal water.

“Ugh-!”

…Only to stumble and nearly fall onto their face.

“What the… augh!”

The water, while seemingly normal, was extremely painful to stand in. Joachim does their best to paddle out of the water as soon as possible, and they just make it to the dry land 3 feet away.

They take a moment to realize what just happened. For some reason, the water decided to start being extra spicy and hurt them. Then it decided to dissolve away and part of their clothing. Their pants and ends of their coat were frayed. How annoying.

Still, it seemed the crab had yet to notice them. Despite the disruptively loud commotion they just made, the crab simply idled by. Joachim was jealous at how nonchalant it looked.

“Yeah? I’ll make sure you never get the chance to see the sunlight through the waters ever again.”

~~~

“Wow, this looks legit! Sorry for the… trouble.”

The man who submitted the commission stares down at the tattered clothes Joachim was wearing. They couldn’t bother going back to the hotel to change first, deciding to hunt down the commissioner first.

“Trust me, the crab was the least of my worries.”

“Sorry?”

“Nevermind that,” Joachim waves him off. “It’s no problem at all. Good day, now.”

Joachim stares down at their clothes. Well, nothing to do about it now. Maybe it was time to invest in a new wardrobe…

“Joachim! Oh wow, you look… not great.”

At the sound of their name, they turn to see a golden-haired Traveler and his floating friend. The empathy in Paimon’s voice makes them sigh even harder.

“Thank you for leading me in the direction of the Emperor. I couldn’t have finished a commission without that, you see.”

Aether gives them a small smile and shakes his head, “No worries, but are you okay? Like Paimon said, you look like you’ve seen better days.”

Joachim suppresses the urge to groan. They really just want to go back to the hotel and change. Maybe look for another commission that isn’t as troublesome as this one.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you for worrying about me.”

Aether hesitantly takes their word as truth, as he accesses that they really aren’t hurt too badly. He pats them on the head.

“If you say so. Paimon and I are on our way to meet someone, so we’ll see you around?”

“Of course.” Joachim nods. “Until then.”

They wave the two off as they head in the opposite direction of where Joachim’s hotel was. Perhaps they were visiting someone who was a Fontaine citizen?

Whatever. Time to go back and change.

[sukirichi]

earned it [01]

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it.  But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins. He also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

request. (mafia au, sugar daddy au) + (dumbification, praising kink)

cw. smut, overstimulation, slight dumbification, praising kink, slight degradation, spanking, belt whipping, explicit murder, rough sex, shower sex, oral (f receiving), multiple sex scenes, riding, slight angst, veryyy unedited, sex when standing up, sex in pretzel position, dom! gojo, manhandling

notes. 🦋 anon, thanks so much for the request! i hope you love this one, i absolutely poured my heart and soul into this! minus the effort to edit, i’ll just edit this when i’m no longer sick lol

series masterlist

There he was again.

Working in a high-class restaurant located in the heart of the city meant you were no stranger to seeing people of power and titles, but he never failed to make everyone stop in their tasks every time he came around.

You don’t know his name, much less his usual orders since his usual table – middle 98 – wasn’t in your rotation. But you’re held captive in his presence, attention drawn to his broad shoulders clad in what seemed like a hand-stitched three piece suit, his striking white hair falling down in smooth tendrils. There’s something about the way he walks – confident doesn’t begin to describe it – that makes everyone surrounding him feel like they’re merely spectators to the enigma that was him, and he carries this observation proudly in his shoulders, that mischievous smile never absent from his face.

Your co-worker tugs at your sleeve, nearly knocking the empty wine glasses away from your tray. Barely catching them as you falter, you bow down to them in apology. No matter how intriguing the mysterious midnight comer was, you were still working. You needed to keep your head focused and in the game.

Hours pass by of shifting from one table to another, your hands beyond cramped from scribbling down such intricate orders. It’s a miracle you were hired in a place as luxurious as this in the first place when you couldn’t pronounce, much less spell the main dishes, but you proved through determination and hard work that the miracle was also accompanied by your grit. It didn’t matter that you were the youngest part-timer with little to no experience – unexpected things always happened when you’re backed in a corner, leaving you with no choice but to follow through.

This corner was nothing less than the struggle to make ends meet. While you’re lucky to have gotten accepted in one of the top state universities, there still came the issue of tuition fees, plus dorm occupations.

You don’t have the privilege to complain or whine that your experiences are probably not on par with what they expect of you, so you have to do your best; you have to keep pushing no matter how hard it gets and you’re barely awake for class the next day.

Clocking out, you bid goodbye to your co-workers and thank them for their hard work, about to leave through the back door when you hear his voice.

Your gaze lands on him from outside the kitchen, body twisted in the direction of where he sat, long legs crossed one another. He’s thanking the waiter for the wine, and you wince, because it isn’t just any wine. That’s one of the drinks locked in the special cellar because of its hefty price, yet there he was, swirling the red liquid around in his glass as if the amount of zeroes never bothered him. He’s reading something from his tablet, head tilted to the side as he drinks, and that’s when you see it.

It’s so miniscule you would’ve believed it’s just your eyes playing tricks on you, but you’ve seen in this class during one of your laboratory practices, the burn marks on your wrist a painful reminder of your carelessness.

Your boss’ shouts of warning fall onto deaf ears as you push past the double doors, feet moving on its own. The edge of the glass makes contact with his lips, gray lashes flattering across his cheeks, while time and sound becomes nothing but background noise to you. Your cry is inaudible when your hand pushes the glass away from his grip, the sounds of it shattering into pieces like a wake-up call to both of you.

For the first time since you’ve met him, the faintest look of surprise crosses over his face. His hands remain into a reflexive hold of the now missing glass, azure eyes cutting through yours.

You bow down to apologize – you can’t believe you’ve just done that and how his suit was stained and his pants soaked – but the words that left his lips stun you beyond disbelief, effectively freezing you in your state. His voice holds the same iciness as the blue of his pupils, but to you – just for you – there’s a tinge of awe behind them.

“Odd,” he says, “To think my life would be saved by you.”

You wake up with a gasp, hands clutched on the blanket covering your bare frame. There’s sweat forming on your hairline as you look around, wincing at the sliver of light passing through the curtains. Silver, ceiling length draperies obscure the view of the city skies outside, a huge reminder of where you are now – somewhere between the past and the future that’s about to come – and the king-sized bed you lay on almost feels like a dream.

Right. It’s been two years since you’ve met Satoru, the once mysterious customer turned into lover, an arrangement between financial aid and companionship solidifying your relationship with him now.

Your face burns at the sight of your clothes scattered all over your shared room. Your lace panties somehow end up on the chandeliers, the expensive material of your silk dress about to slide off the humongous TV and your bra hanging off the doorknob.

The light ache between your legs does nothing to appease your embarrassment. Even after two years of being with Satoru, it’s still difficult to believe he’s chosen you of all people.

He could’ve had anyone he wants. Not only is he beautiful, young, successful, and smart, he’s also an absolutely god in the sheets, your throbbing core attesting to his never ending array of his skills. Truly, Gojo Satoru was perfect, so much so that you pale in comparison to him no matter how much he’s assured you you’re the only he has eyes on.

It doesn’t make sense to you, but does it have to?

Love never required a logical reason for it to blossom, and you left it at that, fearful that it may just ruin whatever happened between the two of you. Besides, if Satoru wants you, then who were you to question that?

You swing your legs off the side of the bed to make him breakfast, but your legs shake upon contact to the floor, still very much sore after last night’s events.

Satoru’s been away for work for three days, and even though it wasn’t that much of a distance, he still acted like it’s been forever. He sure took his time with you, making you cum three times just with his tongue and fingers alone. He’s a cheeky and mischievous man; there’s no telling whether his words are just sweet lies or plain facts, but if there’s one thing you’re sure of, it’s that Satoru keeps his promises to heart. If he says he’s going to fuck you until you can’t walk the next day, he means it, and now you’re left groaning back onto the bed.

You’re thankful that it’s a weekend. Had it been a school day, it’s going to be an absolute pain in the ass. No matter how much he’s covered your school fees, you still won’t risk missing a day.

The door swings open, revealing your boyfriend clothed in nothing but his boxers, the smile on his face huge at seeing you glare at him. “Aw, baby,” he coos, sliding himself next to you, carrying a tray of pancakes topped with blueberries with him. Satoru wraps an arm around your shoulder and laughs into your air when you grumble at the soreness, which he tries to kiss away. “Sorry not sorry for last night. It’s not my fault I’m so addicted to you.”

“Whatever,” you mutter, fighting back that stupid fluttering feeling in your chest. Your attention is diverted to the luscious, fluffy pancakes, and your brows furrow at the sight. “Did you make this for me?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

You roll your eyes at him; his energy was always off the charts even after fucking you into oblivion. Thanking him under your breath, you reach for the breakfast, eternally grateful that it’s breakfast in bed because you can’t walk anywhere right now. However, Satoru pries your hands away from the fork, making you lean back instead as he spoon feeds you.

It’s a little humiliating – and he’s basking in this judging from the smirk he wears – but you give in anyway. Unlike him, your stamina isn’t monstrous. You’re still a human and you’re utterly tired, the glare endless through mouthfuls of the pancake. “I’m not a child, you know.”

“Yeah, but you’re my baby,” he retorts, smacking a kiss right at your lips.

You complain harder, ever so annoyed that you could never seem to throw him off guard and have the upper hand for once. Satoru eases the frown on your face by kissing you harder, his hand cradling your neck. He’s a fucking tease; his tongue languid and sensual as he tastes the honey coating your lips, sucking your bottom lip inside his mouth before nipping at it.

At the back of your mind, you’re wondering how each moment with him results into touching. Not that you really mind, of course, your stomach only flares up with heat at the thought he wants you just as much as you crave him.

Breakfast is soon forgotten right after seven bites as Satoru leans back against the headboard, thumb soothing circles at your hipbone to guide you on top of him.

He pulls away to breathe, a thin thread of saliva and honey between your lips present, and it’s so erotic that his eyes darken with lust, hands gripping a little tighter. You’re still bare on top of him, hardened breasts on display, but he holds himself back with heavy breaths, not wanting to ruin you further than he already has.

Satoru’s lips lands on your shoulder instead, thumb grazing under the weight of your breasts. He’s kissing you everywhere, almost as if he expects the flutter of his lips to heal you. You gladly let him taste you as he pleases, neck tilted to the side while you catch your breath.

The transition of him from an absolute freak in bed to the caring, compassionate boyfriend he is never fails to give you whiplash.

“How’s your studies?” he murmurs into your skin, his touch feather-like in caressing your back. You feel the hairs stand up at where he grazes them, shivering at the sensuality and tenderness he holds you with. “Doing good? My sweetheart still top of her class?”

“Hmm,” you hum back, planting yourself firm in his lap. He’s already hard under you, his cock twitching when your bare cunt presses on top of his tip, but he controls himself, focusing on your state instead. “My grades are tip-top, all thanks to your support,” Satoru smiles when you’re the one placing kisses all over his face this time, his giggles almost child-like.

Time flies by as you lay there in his arms. You’re lulled back into sleep at the sound of his heart beat, and just as you’re dozing off, Satoru pats your ass. “Baby,” he calls out, “Let me wash you first, then we’ll cuddle afterwards. What do you think about that?”

“That’d be great, I feel sticky.”

Satoru laughs, pulling panicked squeals from you when he suddenly hoisted you in his arms, carrying you bridal style. He kicks the door open before turning the heater on in the Jacuzzi, placing you under the shower first.

You close your eyes under the sprinkle of water, hands splayed all over his chest. Your legs are still wobbling, no thanks to him railing you as if there was no tomorrow, but he holds you upright, kneading his hands into your hair then washing every crevice of your body. When you open your eyes, you see him kneeling down to rub the loofah all over your legs, a slight pinch in his brows from sheer focus.

Your heart beats loudly on your chest, unable to process that the Gojo Satoru is on his knees, his touch nothing less of worshipping as if you were a divine being in his eyes.

It makes you breathe sharply as his face comes up before your core, his tongue darting out for a moment before he looks away, focusing on cleaning you up afterwards. His control and care for your well-being leaves you speechless, leaves you breathless, leaves you wanting him more and more and more that you’re kissing him again the moment he brings you both to his Jacuzzi.

He’s taken his boxers off to enjoy the feeling of skin brushing against skin, the fuzz of bubbles foaming up at your breasts only enticing him to kiss you with equal fervent passion.

You’re grinding down on his dick, his length encased between your lips that are extremely warm in comparison to the cool water. Finally, Satoru is stuttering beneath you, little whines leaving his breath as he kneads your ass, resisting the urge to slap the smooth flesh.

“Satoru,” you moan, “N-need you now, please.”

Fuck, his name on your lips mixed with your moans are enough to make him want to lose his restraint and just fuck you hard and deep there. He growls at how unaware you are of your effect on him, and he’s nothing short of starving in his kisses, never getting tired of tasting you over and over again. He wants to keep kissing you until your scent and taste is imprinted on his skin, to carry you around with him even when you’re not there, because he loves you, and he’s never loved anyone this much before. Especially for people like him, love was nothing but a myth.

Everything is a fantasy with you, a dream he doesn’t want to wake up from. If you were to ask him to give up everything for you this instant, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

His heart is enslaved by your existence, and he nods, helping you lift your hips up to align his cock to your entrance. He takes note of your soreness as you slowly sink down on his cock, swallowing your whimpers through open-mouthed kiss. You’re shaking inside his arms, tiny scratches mixed with mewls making its way on his chest, further adding to the litter of scars already painted on his body.

Your head lands on his shoulder the second he bottoms out. Satoru groans at the feeling of your walls fluttering down on him, so warm and so tight that he has to lean his head back on the headrest just to catch his breath.

“You ride me, baby,” he manages through pants. “I’ll let you set the pace – do what’s comfortable with you.”

Your jaw clenches at the same time you clamp down on him one more time, eliciting another sinful moan from your lover. A lazy smirk graces your face as you ride him slowly, the image of the almighty Gojo Satoru falling apart at your ministrations burned at the back of your mind. You’ll replay this memory every time he leaves for work again, and the dreadful thought of having to watch him leave one more time fuels you to bounce on him harder, nails dug into his shoulder.

Satoru winces at the slight sting but doesn’t stop you anyway; he’s no stranger to pain. In fact, he’s a master of that and many more in more ways than one, though you didn’t know that – and he’ll never let you know that.

His eyes snap open at the sounds of skin slapping against skin, the water sloshing out the Jacuzzi. He’s met with the sight of you clutching the edges of the tub, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you fuck yourself harder on his cock. Your breasts bounce right in front of his eyes, tempting him to latch a mouth around it, which he does, the sudden flicking of his warm tongue on your nipples driving you to the edge.

Your soreness becomes a hazy memory of the past with each slide down his dick, thighs burning from the exertion. Satoru is lapping up your breasts and palming the other expertly, his breath hot on your skin.

Something familiar coils into your lower abdomen with each hard thrust, and you throw your head back, moaning his name as if it’s the only thing you’ve ever known. You’re growing tired; he can tell from the way you’re barely lifting your hips, but you’re so close, so near, that Satoru takes it upon himself to push you both right where you wanted to be.

Your moan comes out breathless the moment Satoru grips at your hips, snapping his hips upwards at the same time he guides your body to crush down on him. He’s the one controlling your body, but you’re falling on top of him with no reserve, your weight slamming down to his groin in full force that he’s faltering. Satoru is entranced by the motion of your hips gyrating around the head of his cock, the wavering grin on your face a telltale you’re enjoying the act of destroying him, but he lets you – it’s only fair after the countless times he’s done the same with you. But oh, he’ll have you again and again, and he proves his endless desire for you by forcing himself deep to your most sensitive spots, the glimpse of your mouth hanging open as you come making his cock twitch.

Satoru squeezes your hips as he situates you flat on his cock, groaning as he came in thick spurts. You mewl, scratching at his chest as he rides his high out with a few more sloppy thrusts.

“I know, baby, I know,” he whispers at the top of your hair, well-aware that your oversensitivity is clouding your mind. But he can’t help it, not when you feel so good around him like this. “Just a little more, I’ll be – fuck – right there, oh yeahhh,” he drawls out breathlessly, his cock twitching with the last strings of cum until he grows boneless inside you.

Satoru pulls his cock out, chest heaving up and down from that earth-shattering orgasm. In all honesty, he’s confident he could give you an even better one, but your lids are already fluttering close that he chuckles, pressing a kiss on your temple as a silent you did well.

Somewhere through your half-awake state, you manage to card your fingers through his hair, voice small and weak as you ask, “Don’t you have to go to work?”

Satoru’s eyes lour with something unreadable, and he’s thankful you don’t get to see the sudden glooming of his face. He gently pushes your head to rest on his shoulder, his eyes narrowed at his rippling reflection in the water. In his eyes, he sees the truth – he sees a monster holding an innocent angel he lives to protect – the truth he wants to conceal. He can’t even fathom the possibility of you finding out about who he really is, much less what he does that enables him to provide you with everything you need.

He’s the demon himself, caressing someone as pure as you in his arms, his eyes and true self sinister except for the gentle kisses he leaves at the shell of your ear.

If it keeps you safe, he doesn’t mind becoming even more of a monster if it means keeping you safe.

So he keeps you right where you can’t witness the slight moments of vulnerability in which his horns reveal itself, hugging you tight and possessively in the fear he’ll lose the only thing that matters most to him.

“I have a meeting tonight,” is all he says, is what he always says.

He’s mysterious and aloof, too vague every time you inquire him about what he does for a living. Usually, you’d feel worried or even wary that maybe he doesn’t trust you as much as you originally thought, but you’re too tired to question him further, and he takes advantage of your weakness wholeheartedly. All to keep you safe.

Satoru closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath, no longer bothered by the fact each step he took is getting him closer and closer to a point of no redemption.

He’s not worried about that anymore, not when his salvation is right in his arms, wrapping him with your love and false sense of safety that it becomes the lie he feeds himself every night just to keep going on.

“I just want to be with you a little longer.”

This time around, Satoru tells the truth.

The rust of blood dripping off the concrete walls is as normal to Satoru as breathing is for everyone else. He doesn’t falter in his movements, doesn’t scrunch his nose at the stench, and he doesn’t waver from swinging his arm back, the heavy weight of the wrench already wielded in his hand.

Someone dared come up to their base to face him head-on.

He has to admit, he was impressed with their guts, but now he feels empty save for a slight sliver of irritation at the man’s bloodied face. He’s panting after coughing up blood so much, his face unrecognizable after the beating Satoru gave him, teeth splattered on the floor. Satoru’s right hand man, Geto, stands at the side, silently inspecting his nails.

They’d been going at this for hours now, yet they seemed to be right where they were at the beginning. Torture was usually an effective method of gathering information, but this hostage seemed to be on the same par of monstrous as Satoru from his unyielding nature, even had the audacity to laugh.

Satoru stops in his tracks, a brow raised at what seemed to be so funny.

“Everyone spoke highly of you,” he spat his blood out, his busted eye twitching under Satoru’s stone cold gaze. “They told me you were barbaric, ruthless, the most feared mafia boss out here, but you’re pathetic now, aren’t you? You’re not the same Six Eyes who sees all they claimed you to be,” Satoru watched warily when his hostage smirked, the same one he always wore just moments from bashing the skull out of someone. It’s because he’s so familiar with it that Satoru immediately puts up his walls, Geto stepping beside him with his gun gleaming under his coat. As expected, the man does not falter, his laughter merely increasing in volume. “You’ve grown soft, Gojo. Your little lover is your weakness, it’s written all over your face. Tell me, what’s stopping you from ending my life already? Afraid that if she finds out, she might push you away?” When Gojo doesn’t answer, the man clicks his tongue. “I fucking knew it.”

Geto moves quicker than his boss. He draws his gun and aims it right between his eyes, only to be stopped by Satoru’s indifferent tone. “Stop.”

“But boss-”

“Why did you come here?” he stabs the man in the thigh with a knife, his screams of pain alleviating enough to distract the painful clenching of his chest. “I don’t believe you came here just to prove the rumors true. Now you tell me, why have you come here?” Satoru slams his fist down on the knife, the blade pushing past through muscles and hitting deep to the bone. “Answer me.”

“Th-there’s a drive in my pocket. Open it and you’ll see.”

The man doesn’t stop squirming as Geto rummages through his jacket, nodding to his boss once they got hold of the slick black device. Geto immediately plugs it to the monitor, several photographs popping up in a few seconds, and those few seconds were all it took to bring the infamous mafia boss down.

Because they weren’t just photos, they were photos of you.

Of you laughing with your friends, of you hugging Satoru’s arm in one of your dates, of you kissing him under the streetlight and even an intimate photo of you going down on him while he’s driving. It must be taken from a street cam judging from the blurry quality, but it’s crystal clear to him anyway, and Satoru’s mind muddles with thoughts darker than he once believed he’s capable of. He feels his anger bloom like fire licking up at his skin, his nerves bursting through, and he’s so obvious, so predictable that his hostage guffaws.

“I was right, I was right-!”

“You mean her?” his voice drips down with so much indifference, it shocks even he himself. His hostage shuts up at the sudden change of Satoru’s aura, that dark, fearsome aura that had people begging him to kill them as an act of mercy coming back to life. The man clamps his mouth shut, chills running down his spine because it’s no longer the same Satoru he mocked pulling the knife out from his thigh.

No, this is the Gojo Satoru, the devil incarnate himself, and he’s made the huge mistake of believing he would be affected by a mere woman. Satoru reads the fear on his face too easily, not bothering to hide his sigh as he twirls the bloodied blade between his fingers.

“She’s nothing to me. She’s just another bitch, another paid pussy. Favorite of the month, you could say, but nothing of worth to me,” he announces, ignoring Geto who’s stiffened up at the corner. “Did you really come all the way here just to see if you could find my weakness? If so, then your organization is a lot dumber than I thought, and I hate people who waste my time.”

“No, no, please, I was just jok-” his eyes widen when Satoru snaps his fingers, and Geto rushes to his boss with his gun. “Please, no, I didn’t think she was just a bitch-”

The man never got to finish his words.

A loud ‘bang’ echoes around the room, followed by a slight snap when his head falls backwards. Blood drips from the hole sitting in between his head, the aim perfect and flawless even with Satoru not looking back. He’s still Gojo Satoru, leader of the Gojo Mafia Clan, and he’s not the most feared leader in history for no reason. He’s always been blessed with a physical prowess and fighting abilities that allowed him to take on other clans by himself, but he’s changing. There’s now a chink in his armour, and people are starting to notice.

If he doesn’t do anything about it soon…

“Sir,” Geto begins, following the rushed footsteps of Satoru outside the hall, where his security is lined up with guns poised and ready to risk their lives for him. This was his power, this was his legacy – and this is who he was.

A killer. A monster. A demon – he’s everything you wouldn’t love.

“I know, Geto, I know,” Satoru says through gritted teeth, his bloody hands clenched into fists. He already knows what he’s supposed to do; he doesn’t need another reminder of it. “You don’t have to tell me anything I know of already. Now send that body back as a warning. I’m going home for tonight.”

Geto is stunned, and he’s got every right to be. After all, in his boss’ 28 years of existence, not once has he called anywhere or anyone home.

He’s always claimed himself to be irredeemable, to be unworthy of love and forgiveness, but slowly yet surely, he was beginning to look at life differently after meeting you, after loving you. The word ‘home’ was never in his vocabulary, and yet, every time your face comes up in his mind, it’s the only word he can think of.

He came home a lot earlier than you expected him to. You’re hunched over the table, legs swinging back and forth as you finish your school packets when the door chimes with the familiar beep. It’s only midnight and he’s already here, the excitement manifesting in you as you jump off the stools, running to greet your beloved.

Satoru ends up as a blur of frantic hands tugging his tie off, his scowl seething with anger and regret pouring off of him in waves.

Before you could say anything, he has you pinned on the wall, one knee inside your legs to keep you upright. Satoru is kissing you, hard, one hand raised to keep both your wrists planted above your head. You’re moaning at his aggressiveness, the sounds encouraged by his erection poking at you from your silk robe.

It’s not rare for him to come home in need of a fuck to clear his head, but…something feels different this time around. He feels different, almost like an entirely new person.

Satoru pulls away to press his forehead to yours, his eyes hooded with lust and lips bruised from the kiss. You’re confuzzled; your lover is the exact same person standing before you, the same person grazing at your breasts until your nipples harden at his touch, so then why does it feel like the person who left and came back are entirely two different people.

“Can I fuck you, angel? Please?”

Your words die down your throat.

Satoru’s never said please before, much less look this devastated as he asks to have you. He always says it with exuberant confidence, his present frown usually a smile. There’s no trace of happiness or even playfulness in his eyes this time around. Instead, they’re filled with fear – desperation, even.

You say yes before you realize it, but it’s enough for Satoru. It feels like he’s only been waiting for that word before he goes on a rampage, for his lips are on yours again, patting your thighs as a silent command to jump. You follow his orders and kiss him feverishly until it becomes a battle for dominance, tongue and teeth clashing against the other. Your hands are tugging at his hair from how rough he’s grabbing at your hips, spanking the sensitive flesh that draws a whimper at you.

You don’t know how Satoru manages to find his way to the leather couch even with his eyes closed, but he takes you there, no longer gentle as he throws your weight down. You’re falling, falling, falling as your knees hit the material, cheeks pressed against the headrest. You turn back to kiss him one more time, but Satoru keeps you down there, the sound of his belt unbuckling reaching your ears.

Satoru wraps the leather around his palm, kissing you flat on the lips just as he slaps the material to your ass. He’s pushed your robe to bunch up at your waist, groaning into your mouth upon the realization you’ve been walking around the house butt-naked.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he nips at your lips, feeding off of the pained moans coating his senses at each whip of his belt. “No underwear while I’m gone – you’re begging to be fucked, angel. You’re so filthy,” he swings his arm back to extend the length of the belt, squeezing your ass before he whips it harder against your flesh. You scream at the contact, nails ripping the leather couch and a slight puddle of drool on your lips.

“S-Satoru!”

“What?” he snaps, gripping your jaw, his eyes replaced with something animalistic as he stares at you. The love is gone in his eyes, your lover almost unrecognizable from the way he whips you again. You jut forwards, arousal pooling and dripping down his sofa. His eyes trail down your gushing pussy, nostrils flared before throwing his belt to the other side of the room. The buckle hits one of his expensive vases until it comes crashing down, the sound of it nostalgic to the first time you met him. “Can’t talk, huh, baby? What do you want? Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me,” you blurt out, wiggling your hips sensationally at his already throbbing dick. “Please fuck me.”

You suppose you should’ve been more careful with your words, because Satoru lives to please, and if you tell him to do something, you can expect he’ll give his everything.

He knocks the wind out of your lungs by squeezing your waist, sliding himself into you one, full thrust. You’re wet enough that he slides in easily, but it’s too fast, too early, that the sudden stretch is painfully pleasurable. Satoru delivers one more smack to your flesh that makes it bounce, his growls loud and ragged as he pounds into you.

You’re clutching at the backrest, eyes shut tight as all your attention diverts to the heat in your core. You wish you could see his face, hold his hand or see the way he admires you while he fucks you, but you can’t see anything. Tonight, you could only feel.

Each thrust sends the couch a little ways forward, his balls slapping against your ass. He’s cursing left and right, more focused on getting his anger out his system than pleasuring you. It’s a drastic change to your lover’s behavior in bed, yet you can’t find any muscle in your body that denies this. Satoru can be rough, but he never really goes all out. One way or another, he manages to hold back for your sake, but his mind’s a mess, the voices in his head screaming louder that it drowns out the need to make you cum first.

He’s relentless, grip bruising the harder he fucks into you. You know you’re gone in the instance Satoru plants one foot beside you, the angle causing him to hit deeper.

Satoru ends up fucking into your cervix with each hard thrust, fisting his hand under your robe while he slams forward. It’s so intense that your vision blurs, a faltered grip on the couch. You’re falling limp under his ministrations, his dick successfully hitting that spot that has you seeing white. You’re screaming, babbling nonsense while Satoru uses you as his own fuck toy, pushing past your tight walls and relishing in the way you hug his cock snugly.

He came first, his thrusts growing sloppy and stuttering for a moment. Satoru pulls out so quickly from you that you’re left gasping for air at the sudden emptiness, and that’s when you feel his cum landing on your lower back.

You’re too slow, too weak – or perhaps he’s too strong, too fast – to react properly to his movements.

Satoru doesn’t let you catch your breath as he throws you over his shoulder, your face nearly smacking his ass. You feel dizzy at this position, and the voice in your head tells you that you should be scared he’s manhandling you like this, but seeing him this way – so reveled, so angry, so out of control – has you rubbing your legs, core dripping at the thought of how he’s going to use you tonight.

Your eyes widen when he doesn’t head for the bedroom. You were so sure he’d take you there, but Satoru lays you flat on the marble countertops of the kitchen, the cold biting into your skin.

Satoru doesn’t waste another second before he spreads your legs open and dives into your cunt. You squeal, legs instinctively closing around his head when you feel his tongue lick a flat stripe at your pussy, but he only pushes them apart, encircling your ankles hard to keep you open.

You know he’s strong, but you’re still surprised that he’s capable of rendering you motionless, powerless like this. Your mind wanders off to a dangerous path in wonders of how else he’s hurt someone like this – whether intentionally or unintentionally – but he immediately pulls you back to reality when he sucks your clit, his eyes direct with yours.

His hands trail upwards to squeeze at your breasts, the immediacy of it all firing up that tight knot in your stomach that he failed to snap a while ago.

Satoru’s nose rubs at your skin the harder he sucks at your clit, tugging it upwards until you’re whining around him. It’s always so erotic to see his pretty face buried in your cunt like this; you’ll never get used to him eating you like you’re his last meal. He laps up your juices like a starved man, his tongue prodding between your lips and slurping everything you offer him, one of his arms retracting to slide two fingers inside your sopping hole.

You moan at the sudden intrusion. The sounds of your moans mixing in with the lewd squelching of your dripping pussy is extremely embarrassing, even more so because you’re actually gushing down his palm.

Your juices spread all over his face, and Satoru is greedy, thirsty for more. He pumps harder into you, curling them against the ridges of your walls, and finally, finally you’re there. Your orgasm washes down on you violently that Satoru has to keep a palm flat down on your stomach, his tongue not ceasing from lapping up your juices. You’re convulsing from his hold, stuttered moans rewarding to his ears.

He doesn’t stop coaxing your wetness out of your cunt, his fingers working you out and easing the previous pain of when he entered you without warning. Satoru leans up to help you sit up, his lips colliding with yours for a much gentler kiss this time around.

You cup his cheeks, feeling him slide your body across the counters. Your arousal that he’s failed to clean up remains there until it spreads all over the back of your thighs, the feeling sticky and uncomfortable, but you’re more focused in his tongue dancing with yours. He tastes sweet – like mint and sugar – but his moans are sweeter, the sound dulcet and making you weak on your knees as you taste yourself on him.

Satoru tugs you forward, panic flooding you when you feel nothing under you. You feel like you’re falling again and you immediately encircle your arms around his neck, but he chuckles through the kiss, quick reflexes put into work as he carries you.

The kiss is sloppy yet heated, both of you unable to focus properly when he’s growing hard again. You expect him to take you to the bedroom to finish things for once and for all, but he’s impatient – this much you know the moment he walked in, but somehow keep forgetting – wrapping your legs to his waist instead before slipping inside you.

You mewl into his mouth, eyes snapping open to look at him nervously. His legs are slightly bent as he bounces you on his cock like you weighed nothing.

In this position, he’s hitting deep each time you slide down his cock. Unable to help it, you graze your foreheads with his to stare him deep in the eyes, the usual passion in them slowly returning with each thrust. The work is placed on his shoulders as he holds you close to him, the mind numbing sensation of your erect nipples grazing his sensitive skin enticing him to rut harder into you, all to enjoy the way you fall apart above him.

You’ve been rendered speechless, mouth fallen open to release breathy gasps. Hell, you’re unable to moan, not when his cock is sliding in and out of you so lusciously that you feel every vein protruding from the base of his length. How he manages to walk while fucking you is beyond your comprehension by now, but he seems to be having the time of his life based on his grunting, continuously fucking deep into your pussy so much that he refuses to let you go. Satoru kicks the door to your room open and places you gently on the bed this time, trapping you in his arms but with enough space to let you crawl back up on the bed. You stop as your head hits the pillows, and the mood immediately changes.

Satoru stays still inside you, his large hand cupping your face while you both catch your breath. There’s something unreadable about him. He feels young yet old at the same time, giving you the impression that perhaps he’s still just a child trapped in an old man’s body.

There’s so much fear swirling through the blueness of his eyes that you frown, marveling about what happened to him.

In the intimacy of the moment, you swipe the stray tear that had fallen down his cheek, smiling up at him in hopes he’d realize you’re always there for him. “Satoru,” you whisper, breath hitching as he starts to move. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

Satoru props you sideways, your leg flat on the bed while he hooks the other one over his thigh that is spread beside your body. You have to tilt all the way to the side just to see his face, your hand now bent in an awkward position. Although he doesn’t answer vocally, his gentle thrusts are enough to tell you he doesn’t want to talk about it – he never does, and he never will – so you shut your mouth, focusing on the pleasure of him hitting deep.

Your heart aches for him. You wish he could tell you everything, to share you his worries, and you can’t enjoy him fucking you too much because you’re crying, chest clenching that he’s growing distant no matter how close he is.

You don’t want to lose him.

“Hey,” he easily reads you, leaning down to flutter his eyes at you. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just tired, okay, angel? But you’re making me feel good, you always do, so let me do the same for you,” Satoru kisses your tears away, the saltiness of it making him fuck harder into you, all to ignore the screaming inside his head.

He wants to hold you, he wants to kiss you, he wants to keep loving you like this, he wants to be with you, he wants to touch you – but it’s not that easy.

It’ll only keep getting harder in the future, but the future isn’t now. Today is the present, and it’s even more precious because you’re there with him. Right now, you’re untouchable by anyone but him, and it’s only him that gets to fuck you like this, only him who gets to see you whimper under him, only him who gets to kiss you hard while he fucks you deep.

He wants to fuck you hard enough that you never forget the feeling of him inside you.

Maybe he’s selfish, maybe he really is demonic, because he wishes that after this you won’t be satisfied with anyone else. He wants to fuck you hard enough you’ll keep wishing it was him, that it’s him who’s hitting your sweet spots and making you see stars, that it’s only him who can make you feel this good.

Satoru interlaces his hand with yours as he feels you tighten around him, the clamping down of your walls a telltale you’re near. You’re moaning, eyes dropping to where your bodies are connected. His cock is slicked with your arousal and he’s still thrusting to passionately, his hands touching you everywhere with the same ardor and impatience one would have when they know time is limited. And Satoru knows better than everyone that no amount of money can buy enough time in this world, because if such was a case, then he’d have done so long ago.

He silences his demons with the only way he knows how to; by kissing you and burying himself deep inside you, snapping his hips angrily as if they would counterattack his fears. Your hold on him is slipping from the sweat dripping down your bodies, but he doesn’t stop, his cock further stretching you out because he’s growing impossibly bigger.

Satoru’s cock twitches inside you, the motion pulling a gasp from you. He bites down on your shoulder, one hand gripping your other leg open as he grunts into your skin, his thrusts focused more on power than speed. He hits deep each time, the sensation of him sliding out slowly only to push back in vigorously to make your pussy throb too intense for you to even form proper sentences. He’s getting nearer, his thrusts growing more fervent and impatient. Satoru thumbs at your clit to coax you into following him, and with his thumb rubbing your clit and flicking it side to side, you end up finishing before him, your moan high-pitched and broken. He eagerly swallows the sound by releasing after you, refusing to pull out even as he feels both your cum trickle afterwards.

The sensitivity is too much for you that you have to push him away, and he complies, falling at your side but not before wrapping an arm around you first. His heartbeat is pumping under you, your hands tracing circles at his chest while he holds you impossibly close, littering kisses at the crown of your head.

It’s clear that something is wrong, but he won’t tell you no matter how much you ask. You know firsthand how annoying it is when someone can’t respect your space, so you close your eyes and let sleep overtake you instead, basking in the after sex glow and relieved only by his touch.

Hopefully, you think to yourself, he can tell you another time.

“Satoru,” you murmur seconds before falling asleep.

“Yeah?”

“If there’s something wrong…you’ll let me know, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he lies through gritted chest, pushing your head deeper into his sweaty chest. He has a habit of doing this; of pushing you close so you don’t see his face, so you don’t see the tears streaming down his face that are soon lost in your hair. You think that maybe he’s just breathing hard after work and fucking you, but he’s torn inside, feeling too broken that not even you could help fix his heart.

But you’re still there, and that’s enough for him. So he keeps his lips planted on your forehead all the way until the first sliver of light extends its fingertips over the horizon, the orange glow bathing you in an ethereal light while his body remained in the darkness.

It serves as a painful reminder that he’ll never be worthy of your love, that he’ll never earn the blessing that is your heart, that you’ll never truly love him the way he’s always wanted to be loved. Maybe now you think you do, but it will change once the darkness reveals his true nature, and the thought of you pushing him away hurts a lot more than having never been loved in the first place. To him, it’s a thousand times worse when you get a taste of something, only to have it pulled away from you.

And the longer he stays there next to you, he can’t help but picture your smile soon turned into a look of fear, your body bruised with marks and blood instead of his love bites.

They call him the notorious mafia leader who bows and yields to no one, but it’s not true. Gojo Satoru most definitely has his weakness, one that came into a form of his lover, and he can’t handle that you’d get hurt because of him someday that he believes it’s just better to let things be this way.

He’s silent from when he leaves the bed, refusing to look at you one last time as a final resolve of whatever is left in his strength. He quickly dresses himself and picks up your discarded robe on the ground, folding it and leaving it on the counter before shutting the door, the sound of his footsteps mute compared to the frantic beating of his heart.

Geto is already there at the lobby, his face empty yet eyes filled with sympathy. He opens the door for Satoru who slides in wordlessly, his lips pulled into a thin line while he punches in zeroes upon zeroes.

The words transaction complete flashes before him, and for a split second, he gets the urge to run back inside to hold you. But Geto clears his throat from the passenger’s seat, nodding at his phone that Satoru visibly deflates. His hands are numb the whole time he deletes your photos, your videos, and erases your contact, but it only hits hard that its over once he chucked the phone out the window, watching through his sunglasses as the device is crushed under another speeding car.

Its over, its over, its over – it keeps chanting at his head, and he wants to punch himself, wants to never see another daylight again every time he imagines you waking up alone and unable to find him. He wants to be sad, and he is, but there’s that relief blossoming inside him anyway that whispers its over, you’re safe that he can’t help but think…its okay, its over.

With that, Satoru rolls up the windows and nods at the driver who’s been waiting for him the whole time. He makes eye contact with a proud Geto from the rearview mirror, concealing his heartbreak with a laugh as he crosses his leg over the other.

“It’s over,” he says more to himself, “Let’s go.”

Gojo Satoru is a firm believer that if you work hard for it then you shall earn it. That’s the reason he got this far in life in the first place, he’s got his tenacity and dedication to thank for. But on the other side, he’s not unfamiliar with his own sins as well, and he also believes that there is punishment due for his sins as he’s earned it.

And the punishment of loving you – only to have you slip from his arms – is a punishment he’ll wholeheartedly accept.