#there had to be a least a few of them crossing their fingers

[chosolar]

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈ wanna be yours!

gojo satoru x shy!femreader

flirty!satoru didn't think much of you when he first met you. yeah you were cute and he saw you often behind the counter at his favourite coffee shop, but you kept to yourself that the only thing he knew about you was your name. next time you hang out with them, he was determined to at least get to know you a little better.

flirty!satoru started asking to go out with only you after a few months, which you weren't suspicious of. suguru had a lot of responsibilities, and shoko was always tired and preferred staying home, so you didn't think much of it when it was only the two of you going out.

flirty!satoru is always paying for you during your "hangouts". satoru will never let you pay for anything because he will always have the provider mindset (what a man).

flirty!satoru hates sharing clothes, even with a close friend like suguru. he's grown up as a spoiled only child so he hates any kind of sharing, but he will never say no to giving you his hoodies!! he is in love with the way his hoodie so is large on you that it basically engulfs you. he just thinks you look so adorable when you wear his sweaters.

flirty!satoru loves sleeping beside you. after a long day, he likes to come over and he doesn't care if it's on the bed or your couch, he loves snuggling up to you and feeling the warmth of your body against him. the first night you slept over at his apartment, you left early in the morning because you felt embarrassed so now satoru wakes up early to prevent you from doing so again.

flirty!satoru enjoys making you flustered IMMENSELY. everytime you hand him the house keys, he'll let his fingers slightly intertwine with yours, imitating hand holding. if you ask him to grab something from the top of the cabinet, he'll cage you in his arms before you get a chance to move out the way and he'll press his body onto your back before handing you the thing you asked him to get. his love language for sure is physical touch.

flirty!satoru who is so physically affectionate with you, it's like he'll die if he's not touching you in any way. he's quite sneaky too, when you're sitting on the couch beside him, he'll do the good ole "yawn and stretch" trick to put his arm over you. when you're watching a scary movie with him, satoru would pretend to be scared to get closer to you and if he's feeling extra bold, he'll hide his face into the crook of your neck, his lips being dangerously close to your skin.

flirty!satoru notices the way you try to take sneaky glances at him when you think he's not looking. he basks in the fact that even though you're not officially together, your eyes are always on him (the same for him about you ofc). sometimes he'll even look back at you and see if you'll continue the eye contact but he knows you'll turn away (he loves doing this because he thinks that it's so cute you can barely hold eye contact with him).

flirty!satoru is speechless when you get clingy with him when you get a couple of drinks in your system. after everyone left satoru's penthouse, you stayed behind, tipsy and unable to even walk straight. he takes a sit beside you on his couch, tilting his head to look at you trying to stay awake. you caught him off-guard when you crawled into his lap, you're situated in between his thighs with your legs crossed on top of his right thigh. you lean your head on his chest, and he instinctively puts his arm around your waist so that you don't fall back. you nestle your head into his chest and muttered, "you smell good".

as shy as you usually are, he wanted to keep seeing you like this. a side of you that only he can see - clingy and more outgoing (also very promiscuous but no one else needs to know).

flirty!satoru takes time out of his busy day to come pick you up when you're off, especially if you're working closing shifts. friends pick each other up all the time, what's the difference? it's not like satoru came all the way from the other side of the city, speeding the entire way, and running a couple of red yellow lights... he just didn't want you to wait for him outside where someone sketchy might come up to you.

after arriving in front your apartment complex, you offered him dinner as a thank you, and there's no way flirty!satoru would ever decline your cooking! after a hearty meal that satoru rates 10/10, he suggests watching this new movie suguru was telling him about.

midway through the movie you end up falling asleep, your head leaning onto the side of his arm. he can tell that you're uncomfortable with the position so he scoots forward on the couch, letting your head fall onto his shoulder and having you snuggle up to his arm.

satoru ends up closing the tv soon after and carrying you to your bed. he fixes the hairs that are covering your face and pulls the duvet over you. after ensuring that you're sleeping comfortably, he goes back go the living room to close all the lights when he notices your phone ringing with notifications.

omfg forgot to tell u guys but we finally saw the guy she was talking about 12:35 am

she wasnt lying when she said hes so fine 12:35 am

@[username] pls tell me he has friends 12:36 am

are you guys seeing or what!!! ;) 12:36 am

the groupchat you had with your close friends from work was filled with the coworker who you closed with gushing over satoru. she went on about how he waited for you at the front of the shop, that he opened the door for you, and even introduced himself as a "close friend" of yours (with a wink).

satoru couldn't help but smile at your phone, looking through all the times you've mentioned him to your friends. he writes a quick message to your friends before closing the app. like he came to do, satoru closed the lights all around your apartment then made his way to you, wrapping his arms around you and falling asleep soon after.

flirty!satoru who after that night, becomes more confident in his advances towards you. he's been so affectionate that even suguru and shoko are questioning your relationship. suguru notices that satoru's homescreen is not his fav celebrity, but rather a candid pic of you! he also saw a glimpse of your contact name on the white-haired man's phone. had suguru known better, he would've thought the two of you were already dating.

flirty!satoru was hyping himself up the next week to actually ask you out. he was going all out for you, with a small hike to a cliff that overlooked the skyline of city and there would be a picnic blanket with your favourite foods inside the picnic basket with arrangements of your favourite flowers surrounding the blanket, the whole shabam!

he calls you.

and calls.

and calls.

but you don't answer.

it was getting closer to the time that he needed to be on the way, but you still weren't answering. he was about to leave his penthouse when he received a text from you.

hey satoru I think I need some space right now. I'll text you back when I feel okay, hope you understand. 6:27 pm

and for the first time in his life, flirty!satoru's stomach dropped.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈

hello! this is my first time posting on tumblr and ngl i'm kinda nervous but whateverrrr I have so many wip about the jjk men i need them out of the notes app NEOW this is also not proofread :)

[lowkeyerror]

Help With The Curriculum pt 5

Agathario x Reader

Word count: 4.8k

Notes: Requested, smut, car sex, fingering, strap-on sex, oral on strap, cunnilingus, blindfold, tied hands, 1 face slap, jealousy, lmk if there's more bc it's more than the rest haha

Summary: There’s a new professor in the English department who has taken a special interest in Agatha. You and Rio have to remind Agatha that she's already spoken for.

An: I thought it was over, but someone request another part so this is what I came up with, enjoy it.

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Things have fleshed out for your relationship with Rio and Agatha over the year. Originally there was uncertainty of what was to become of your encounters with the other professors, but now you had none. The three of you had made your relationship official, at least to each other.

The students and faculty of the university were none the wiser. Besides it wasn’t their business anyway. Unfortunately not being out publicly did have a few disadvantages. One of them being that some of the other faculty members would be flirty with the three of you.

Currently, both Rio and yourself had a problem with one of the English professors and how eager she seemed to interact with Agatha. There was no reason for her to ask for Agatha’s help or advice yet, that did not stop her.

Agatha brushed off your concerns stating that the professor was new, and just being friendly. Neither you or Rio bought that excuse.

Rio was a little more hotheaded than you when it came to the topic of Wanda. She’d roll her eyes, say something under breath, and even glare shamelessly at the auburn haired woman.

You on the other hand tried to keep your anger down. However, you couldn’t help how the new professor made you twitch with anger. Your hands, your jaw, and Rio had even caught your eye twitch once when Agatha mentioned the other woman.

“How did your kids do on the exam?”

“They did alright, the class average was like a high C. I’m thinking of curving it a little,” you respond to Rio as the two of make your way to Agatha’s classroom.

“Same, I think there were a few questions that were worded a little weird. I might just make them extra credit and remove them from the base test,” she agrees.

The two of you keep talking about your classes until you arrive at Agatha’s. You know she shouldn’t have a class at the moment, so you thought you’d go chat. Partially about the test grades and in part about dinner plans for the night.

When you enter the class, your conversation stops in its tracks. The pair of you are shocked to see Wanda already here, talking to Agatha.

The woman is leaning over Agatha’s desk, giving her the perfect view of her cleavage. You can see her biting her lip as she speaks lowly to your girlfriend. She’s clearly flirting with the woman as she chuckles when Agatha mutters something to her.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Rio says under her breath.

You simply glare at the scene in front of you. You try to stay calm, but you only feel your anger intensify as you see Wanda leaning over even further so her hand could rest on Agatha’s.

“Professor Harkness,” your voice calls out with authority.

It causes all three women in the room to startle. It’s not often that you use this tone of voice. There’s a subtle irritation in it, hidden under the lower than usual octave, and the professional air you present.

“Professor L/n, Professor Vidal, what can I do for you?”

“We need to go over the exam scores and possibly the exam itself. Professor Vidal thinks some of the questions are unfair, we need to think about restructuring the test for next semester,” you keep your focus solely on Agatha.

“Isn’t that something you should talk to the head of the department about?” Wanda jumps into the conversation.

“I am head of the department,” Rio answers with her arms crossed over her chest.

“Oh, well in that case I’ll be on my way. I just wanted to ask you, Professor Harkness, if you maybe had some time after your last class to help me with some of my curriculum?”

Rio couldn’t hold her tongue any longer, “Aren’t you an English professor? What could she possibly help with better than anyone in your department?”

Wanda begins to stutter, “There’s actually quite a bit o-of overlap and-”

“Maybe you should talk to your department head, if you’re lost,” you add on.

“I actually have plans tonight, Wanda sorry. Professor Vidal and L/n are right. I'm sure someone in your department, like Professor Romanoff, can help you craft your curriculum,” Agatha answers the woman kindly.

The English professor nods to herself dejectedly, “Thank you Professors.”

She makes her exit after that. When the door closes behind her the room stays silent.

“That little slut was all over you Agatha,” Rio begins her tangent. “Her tits were practically in your face, she was just waiting on you to lean forward some more.”

“Would you relax it’s not like that.”

Rio’s jaw drops slightly and her eyebrows raise, “Oh, it’s not like that? Then why is she, an English professor, repeatedly asking you, a history professor, for your help.”

“She’s just new to being a professor, it’s not like-”

“No, she didn’t ask you for tips on being a professor. She asked you to help her with the curriculum and we of all people know what that really means. We’re nearly halfway into the semester, the fuck does she need help for?” Rio does not let Agatha finish.

“Y/n would you tell her that she's overreacting?” Agatha looks to you for help.

Your expression hardens, “She was touching you.”

“It was a friendly-"

“Rio and myself are the only ones allowed to touch you like that,” you hold her gaze.

“You can’t be serious?”

You walk around the desk to stand next to her, “And you can't be this naïve. You know that whore likes you, and you're letting her take up your time, touch you, and flirt with you? Do you need a reminder of who you belong to?”

You see her squirm under your words, “Y/n.”

“Rio and I will show you tonight. You're going to take what we give you.”

You don't say anything else turning on your heel. Rio gives Agatha a small teasing smile before walking out behind you.

“So, what's the plan?”

You smirk at the older woman, “You’re in charge tonight.”

Rio stops walking, and her eyes widen, “I’m what?”

You chuckle at her, checking the hall for prying eyes before you kiss her on the cheek, “You’ve earned it. I’m following your lead.”

“I have some ideas.”

Your smile only grows, “I’m all ears baby.”

Rio shares them with you eagerly. It’s nothing too crazy, but you find yourself falling in love with the way she thinks. You can tell she’s wanted to do this for a long time. By the time she’s gone over the main things, you can’t ignore how wet you are.

“Rio,” you say her name tentatively.

She hums in response.

“When’s your next class?”

“Half hour, why?”

You don't elaborate, instead quickening your pace walking towards the parking garage. When you get to your car, you climb in the backseat. You tug Rio in after you.

She falls on top of you, your lips find hers eagerly. She surprised by your actions, but falls into them with no problem.

You take her hand and slip it into your pants, she gasps at your wetness.

“Your dirty little ideas got me so hot baby. I need you,” you breathe out against her lips.

“Fuck, you’re drenched,” she slips 2 fingers inside of you.

You help her slide your pants down around your ankles so she’s able to thrust inside of you. You could hear her breathing into your ear, her lips ever so lightly grazing your earlobe.

“I love the way your fingers curl into me. I love your weight on me. I love it when you’re in control baby, so giving,” you breathe out.

She begins to pump faster, sucking on your neck. Her thumb begins to play with your clit, knowing that you were on limited time.

“Cum for me. Please, show me how good I make you feel.”

You cum on her fingers and she helps you ride it out. You kiss her passionately not wanting to go back to the campus. Rio is the one to break the kiss.

She reaches over to the small towels that you'd taken to keeping in the car. She cleans you deliberately.

“Let’s just cancel class,” you play with hairs on the back of her neck.

“You know I can't do that,” Rio kisses your nose.

You find yourself whining a bit, “Family emergency, please. Let’s just go home, get a head start on the activities.”

Rio bites her lip, “You’re whining.”

“I’m begging,” you correct her. You can see her about to crack. Your hand cups her face gently, “Please, I need more of you. I want to make you feel good too.”

“Y/n,” she pleads.

“Fine, I guess we can go back to class,” you frown.

Rio puts her hand on your chest, keeping you down. You hardly beg, the submissive needy nature that you’re exhibiting does something to Rio. She’s usually the one who’s the neediest of the bunch, but today it doesn’t seem that way.

“You’re going to make it worth my while, pretty girl?”

You blush at the nickname, a singular word spoken softly from your lips, “Yes.”

“You better.”

The two of you maneuver so that you’re sitting up. Both sending out an email canceling the rest of your classes for the day.

Rio gives you a quick kiss, and exits your car, “I’ll see you at home.”

You all took separate cars to work, partially because you all had different schedules, but also in part to keep the school out of your business.

You hop in the driver’s seat, trying to calm yourself before you drive away. While you called it home, technically it was Agatha’s place. Rio and yourself kept your residences, but you spent most of time at Agatha’s.

Somehow Rio manages to beat you home. You’re eager to get inside. When you do, it’s eerily quiet. You head straight to the bedroom.

When you go in, Rio stands with her back facing the door. She’s already naked. You shut the door softly behind you. She still doesn’t look your way. You strip off your clothes before wrapping your arms around her middle.

You begin placing a trail of kisses on her shoulders, up the side of her neck. Her eyes are blown when they meet yours. You shudder under her gaze. You try to kiss her, but she pulls away slightly.

“I know we talked about what we were going to do to Agatha, but…”

Your eyebrows crease, “But what baby?”

“Can I fuck you?”

You feel your face heat up without your permission.

“With the strap?” You ask her for clarification.

“It’s ok, if you aren't comfortable, but-"

You kiss her eagerly. The sound of your lips smacking against each other, fills the room.

“Baby, I’ll ride you so nasty,” you giggle lowly against her lips.

Now it’s Rio who is blushing . She doesn’t say anything as you help her into the harness. Once the strap is attached to the base, she lays on the middle of the bed.

You’re still slick from her fingering you in the car. You see her reaching for the lube, but you grab her hand.

“I want to get it wet,” you tell her.

You spit in your hand before you begin to stroke the fake cock. It’s not too long after that your lips replace your hand and you begin to slowly bob your head up and down the cock.

“Oh my god,” Rio is intoxicated by the image.

She has truly never pictured seeing you in such a way. She’s hesitant, but her hand tangles itself in your hair. You can hear her breathing become shaky.

“L-look at me,” you hear her stutter.

You look through your lashes to find her staring at you lustfully. Not breaking contact, you go down to the base of the toy. She holds you there until you’re gagging on the rubber piece.

When you come off of it, you’re teary eyed, but you continue to lick her cock. You press kisses against the shaft.

“I need you inside of me.”

You straddle her waist. The way she looks so enamored has you feeling really hot. She can hardly speak as she watches you.

“Speechless baby?”

Rio swallows hard, “You’re just so pretty worshipping my cock. I just want to watch you.”

“Then watch me.”

You don’t remember the last time you had something fill you up this way. Slowly you lower yourself onto the saliva covered cock. You moan as you take it all. Rio’s hands place themselves on your hips.

It takes a moment for you to adjust. Your hands rest in the middle of her chest as you find a rhythm riding her.

“Holy shit,” your eyes roll back as you pick up the pace. “Rio, please baby, I need you t-to fuck me.”

Your words seem to pull her out of her trance. Her hips start snapping up to meet you as you bounce on her cock. Her hands travel from your waist to your breasts. She massages the mounds in her hand before playing with your nipples.

Rio sits up abruptly, pulling you closer against her. Her tongue glides over your nipple, sucking gently.

“Oh fuck,” you yelp in surprise as she lifts you just to lay you flat on the bed.

She begins to bury herself into your cunt at a rapid speed. The sound of her impaling your sloshing cunt paired with her guttural breathing sends you into a frenzy.

“You take me so good sweetheart. I could watch your hole swallow my cock forever. I can feel your hole sucking me in. You’re so soaked, I keep thinking it’s just going to slip out of you.”

You lock your legs around her, making sure she stays inside of you, “I’m going to cum.”

Rio fucks you even harder, nails digging into your hips, “Cum on my cock.”

You fall apart at her command. Her thrust slow before she gingerly pulls out of you, making you whimper at the loss fullness.

She cuddles up into your arms. It causes you to chuckle a bit as you run your fingers through her hair.

“You’re such a softie baby,” you kiss her forehead.

“Shut up, I didn't think you'd take it like that is all. You had me in awe,” Rio admits looking up at you.

Her fingers draw patterns on your skin.

“It made me feel really hot, so caught up in the way I looked with you inside of me, could barely even speak,” your hand falls from her head down her back.

“I’ll do better next time,” she mumbles.

You tilt her head up to look at you, a seriousness in your eyes, “I loved the way you fucked me baby, and if you can keep being my good girl, I’ll let you do it again.”

“Your good girl?”

You nod, “My good girl, since Agatha is so preoccupied with the English department.”

“I’m going to be rougher with her,” Rio says it as a statement.

“As rough as you want. We’re going to make sure everyone at that place knows she’s taken,” your fingers play with Rio’s harness. “In the meantime though, I think it’s time I gave you a reward for fucking me so sweetly.”

You undo the harness to expose Rio’s pussy.

“Yes, please.”

That's how the two of you spent your time waiting for Agatha. Some fucking, some talking, and then more fucking. When Agatha did come home, she was welcomed by the sound of Rio loudly moaning your name.

She takes her time going to the bedroom. When she gets there, she hears the sound of your soft laughter. Going through the door she sees your head resting on Rio’s thigh. You have a small smile on your lips as the other woman scratches your head with her free hand.

“So this is why you both decided to play hooky today?” Agatha makes her presence known.

The air in the room shifts when you both lay eyes on her. She freezes in place under the weight of the gaze.

“Tonight, you have a lesson to learn,” you say standing.

Rio follows suit, her eyes shamelessly dragging over Agatha’s body.

Agatha scoffs, “Wanda is just-”

“We don’t care. She has a thing for you, and you haven't deterred her enough. Tomorrow you're going to let her know you’re taken,” you rebut.

Rio shakes her head, “She won't have to tell her, she’ll figure it out on her own. She should pick up the… context clues, English professor and all.”

“Fine, do your worst, I suppose,” Agatha gives in.

Rio smiles holding up the silk bands for Agatha to see. The smug look drops from her lips. Rio passes you one of the ribbons while she takes the other.

Rio careful covers Agatha’s eyes, tying the ribbon behind her head. The woman then removes the top half of Agatha’s clothing. You pull her wrist out in front of her tying them together.

You and Rio lead her to the chair in her room, helping her sit down. Rio takes a seat on Agatha’s lap while you stand behind the chair.

“Agatha, you look so perfect tied up like this,” Rio’s thumb cascades across Agatha’s sharp jaw, before pulling at her bottom lip. “Suck,” the tone she uses is a complete 180 from the way she was speaking to you.

Agatha complies taking Rio’s thumb into her mouth.

“You’ve been behaving like an attention whore. Reveling in any ounce that that red headed skank has been giving you. Do we not give you enough attention?”

Your hands plant themselves on her shoulders, massaging them. Rio feels Agatha’s mouth vibrate around her thumb. She pulls it out of the woman’s mouth.

“She asked you a question?”

“You give me more than enough attention.”

Rio hums, then leans forward so her lips are touching Agatha’s ear. “Then why are you letting other bitches touch you?”

Rio gets out of Agatha’s lap and you remove your hands from her shoulders. The lack of contact makes the woman want to stand.

“Sit still,” you command, which causes her to stop all her squirming.

While Agatha sits, you and Rio prepare yourselves. The two of you stand in the middle of the room, stroking your fake cocks. You can see Agatha begin to lose her composure as she waits for something else to happen.

“Alright, come to the middle of the room and get on your knees,” Rio gives the directions.

It’s a bit of a challenge with her hands tied and the blindfold, but she manages it fine. You turn her so that she’s facing the two of you.

“Open wide, we’re going to shove our cocks down your throat,” you grab a fistful of her hair.

She listens, even making a show of sticking her tongue out. You guide her with a firm grip, making her take Rio first.

“That’s it, relax that throat for me,” Rio begins thrusting into the woman’s mouth.

Her grip replaces yours and you watch Agatha struggle with Rio’s building pace. Rio is rough with Agatha, holding her head down until the full length is in her mouth. She keeps her there until a few harsh coughs leave her, causing her to come completely off of the dick.

She takes a few deep breaths, but you don’t allow her to catch many more, before you shove your cock in her mouth.

“If you want attention, you got it baby.”

You don’t fuck her as hard as Rio, but you guide her more. You control the way her head bobs with an iron like grip. The saliva pooling down her chin and onto her chest drives you insane. It’s the power of it all, seeing her in this position turn you on tremendously. You push her head off of your dick, watching her chest heave up and down.

She’s not in the floor for much longer as Rio yanks her up and practically throws her on the bed. Rio doesn’t let up as her lips attach to the side of Agatha’s neck sucking harshly.

You join in, bombarding the other side of Agatha’s neck. The woman in between begins to pant at the sensation. Rio begins to play with Agatha’s nipples as she assaults the woman’s neck. This causes her back to arch slightly off of the bed.

You meet Rio in the middle of Agatha’s throat. The two of you remove yourselves from Agatha to see the full necklace of hickeys that you’ve created around the woman’s neck and collarbone.

“Now everyone will know that you’re taken,” your finger runs the path of the dark purple bruising.

You don’t say anything else as Rio pulls you into a sloppy kiss. The two of you are hovering over Agatha. The woman on her back mewl at the sounds she’s hearing. She can’t help, but fight against the restraints, wanting to touch the two of you so badly.

When the kissing stops, you decide to rid Agatha of the bottom portion of her clothing. You can't resist her leaky pussy. You look briefly to Rio, almost as if asking permission, and she nods.

Agatha withers as she feels your breath against her cunt. You see her hole clenching around nothing.

“Please,” she cries out.

You give her a teasing lick that makes a desperate wail escape her lips.

“Beg some more,” Rio instructs her.

Her voice is unsteady as she attempts to plead, “Y/n, Rio please. Someone, I’m sorry I- I let her touch me. I don't want anyone to touch me that's not you, please just. I need you, pl-”

Her sentence is cut off by a high pitch yelp as you begin sucking on her clit. While you get consumed with her drooling pussy, Rio begins to suckle off her. Her teeth playfully nip at Agatha’s tits before nursing from them like a baby.

The simultaneous stimulation has Agatha’s brain turning to mush. She doesn’t know what sounds to make or words to say, it all just becomes gibberish. She can feel herself getting close and you can tell by the way her cunt tries to take your tongue.

Instantly you’re removing your lips from he and Rio is doing the same. It causes Agatha to sit straight up in bed. She’s looking and moving frantically.

“No! Please, I need to cum. Let me cum, don’t leave me like this. I was being a stupid slut, I won’t do it again. You own me, you both own please. I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours.”

You can tell by the wet spot on the blindfold and the tearstain on her cheeks that she’s crying.

“Stomach flat on the bed, ass in the air,” Rio’s words have Agatha scrambling to comply.

You take the time to remove your harness and sit in front of Agatha with your legs open. Rio straddles her legs rubbing the tip of the strap through Agatha’s messy folds. The woman responds by sticking her ass higher on the air.

Rio gives it a harsh smack, “I’ve been waiting so long for this.” She wraps Agatha’s hair around her fist yanking the woman partially up right. “Now eat her out while your pussy swallows my cock.”

She shoves Agatha’s face down right into your pussy, which the woman starts licking and sucking ravenously. You almost come off of the bed at her carnivorous speed.

“Oh fuck,” you lament.

That’s when Rio decides to slip herself fully into Agatha. Her body shakes and her mouth stops working on you as she tries to recompose herself.

“Keep eating or I’ll pull out,” Rio threatens.

Agatha’s face buries itself between your legs. She can't worry about her nose or the mess on her face all she knows is that she wants Rio to move. Your taste quenches a part of her greed, but she needs more.

Rio begins to pound Agatha’s pussy. Unable to stop herself from slapping the woman’s ass as she drives deep inside of the woman.

“I’m going to cum,” you murmur, reaching behind Agatha’s head to untie the blindfold. When it falls from over her eyes you lift her head just enough to meet your gaze. “Look at me while you make me cum.”

You slap her firmly across the face, like she had asked for last time, having looked a little more into the practice. The long grunt she let out into your cunt sent you over the edge.

“Now who do you belong to,” you move some hair out of her face .

Her words are unintelligible as she fails to answer you. The bliss she feels with Rio fucking into her nearly too much to handle. Rio’s arm locks Agatha in a semi choke hold, raising her body at a new angle. It’s just enough so she can speak into Agatha’s ear as she rams into her.

“Who owns you, Aggie?” Rio whisper, biting Agatha's ear lobe.

“You own me, you own me , you own me,” she keeps repeating it until she nearly screaming.

You swipe your fingers through your folds before pushing them into her mouth, “Ssshhhh. That whore will never fuck you like we can. She can’t have you like this. Don’t ever let her fucking touch you again.”

She nods her head as best she can in her position.

“R-rio please,” she whimpers, with your fingers still in her mouth.

The begging, mixed with the way Agatha was desperately pushing herself back to meet the thrusts, has Rio cumming.

“Make a mess for me, Agatha,” her hold on the woman’s throat tightens.

It sends her over the edge. You quickly take your fingers out of her mouth, to catch the woman as she slumps forward. Her head leans on your shoulder with her mouth open. You don’t care about the saliva that begins to pool on your skin.

Agatha winces slightly as Rio gently pulls out of her. She discards the harness, wrapping her arms around Agatha’s middle. Her head rest against Agatha’s back. You all silently attempt to catch your breaths.

You untie Agatha’s wrists and she sighs in content. The first thing she does is place one hand on your cheek and the other on Rio’s thigh.

“Jealousy is so hot on you two,” Agatha breaks the silence.

You both laugh, but you're the next one to speak, “Seriously though if she doesn't back off after this, I'm going to snap.”

“Me too, you’re ours Agatha, “ Rio adds on, placing a gentle kiss on Agatha’s back.

She nods lazily against your shoulder, “I’m yours.”

“Damn right,” you kiss her forehead.

“I’m exhausted,” Rio moves to fully lay on the bed.

You agree with her, “We’ve been fucking since we walked through the door, I could sleep for 3 days.” Your stomach growls causing you to speak again, “Some food wouldn't hurt either.”

Agatha is the one to get out of the bed and throw on a robe. You and Rio watch in amusement as she struggles to walk. Her legs tremble with every step.

“Where you going love?”

She doesn’t look back, “To the kitchen, I’ll cook us something. It’s the least I could do after using Wanda to make you jealous.”

“I fucking knew it,” Rio calls out.

“Don’t be too mad. You finally got to fuck me, my good girl,” Agatha responds.

Rio tries not to, but she melts at Agatha’s words.

“That sweet talk won’t work with me,” you call out to her.

“Are you sure about that daddy?” She annunciates the last word in a teasing tone.

You fluster at her words, “Not fair, Harkness.”

“All is fair in love and war Professor L/n.”

Rio takes your hand in hers, “She always wins banter pretty girl, you’ll get used to it.”

You don’t concede yet, taking one more shot at Agatha, “Well in that case, I guess it’s only fair to tell you that your good girl fucked me with the strap earlier.”

Rio can’t hide the tint in her cheeks as she smacks you lightly on the arm. You fail to hold back your laughter as you see Agatha hobble back into the doorway.

“She did not,” Agatha says incredulously.

You kiss the top of Rio’s head, “She did, and I loved every second of it.”

“So when do I get to?” Agatha complains.

You shrug, “Considering you purposefully made us jealous, I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

“Y/n,” she drags out your name when she whines.

Rio interjects, “I think you'll have to… earn it.”

“Precisely.”

Agatha pouts, “I’m going back to the kitchen.”

“Wait,” you stand up pulling Rio with you.

You peck Agatha’s lips, “ Thank you for cooking , love.”

Rio does the same, “We love you.”

She smiles shooing you both away, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, love you too. I’ll call you when it’s ready."

While Agatha cooks, the two of you straighten up the room, before getting cleaned up, with fresh clothes on. You can’t help but smile, thinking about this little life you cultivated with Rio and Agatha. It feels like a personal slice of heaven. If you knew this is what would come of Agatha asking for help with the curriculum, maybe you would’ve asked her first.

[xxsinisterbunniexx]

Reckless Indulgence - Jeff the Killer & Ticci Toby x Female reader NSFW

Warnings: Dubcon

Tags: Threesome, double vaginal penetration, fingering, oral sex, creampie, German dirty talk

Words: 5.1k

I posted this on AO3 a while back but I’m cross posting it here now :3

As always, all canon will be flexible to make way for sexy

if you speak German I’m sorry LMAO (and if you don’t just hold down to highlight the text and hit translate)

Trees blurred past as you drove down an old back road, music blaring through your speakers. You had curated the perfect playlist for the long drive ahead of you. There was nothing on these roads for miles and miles.

The sun was setting along the rows of trees, dipping down to disappear below them. Despite the night winding down your energy was all the way up.

You were on your way back home from a visit with one of your closest friends. It had been months since you had gotten to see her, so even with the distance the trip was definitely worth it. Ever since she moved away for college a couple of years ago, you only got to see her whenever there were breaks in both of your college’s schedules.

Now that it was summer you finally had the opportunity to go down and see her. You had an amazing time all weekend, it was hard to leave.

That’s why you ended up leaving a little later than you had intended. It made you a little nervous to be driving so far at night by yourself, but you tried to remind yourself you had nothing to worry about. You made sure to fill up your gas tank before you left, you didn’t need to pee, and you’d chosen only bangers for the music to accompany your trip.

You took a sip of your monster and got back to belting the lyrics to Yeah Boy and Doll Face.

“DO YOU WANT MEEEEEE? DO YOU WANT TO LET ME KNOW THAT YOU’RE OKAYYYYYYY?”

There was a slight rumbling sound coming from your car but you decided to ignore it.

“A DIAMOND GOLD RINGGGGG, CUSTOMIZED TO CUT YOUR CIRCULATION.”

The rumbling started to get louder.

That can’t be good.

“I COULDN’T LET YOU GO. I NEVER LET YOU GO MY DEAR!” You continued screaming.

The rumbling started to overtake even your loud vocals.

Maybe I should pull over?

Before you had the chance to weigh the pros and cons of pulling over on the side of the highway as a woman alone at night, your car had started decelerating.

“Fuck!” You managed to pull over in time for your car to completely stop running.

For a brief moment you just sat there, thinking about how absolutely fucked you were.

I don’t fucking know shit about cars. What the fuck am I gonna do?

You decided it would be best to at least try to take a look at it. You reached down and pulled the lever to pop the hood. After doing a little unceremonious walk to the front of the car you pulled the hood open and propped it up with the hook.

Your phone flashlight didn’t offer the best lighting, but after propping it up at a good angle you felt like you could actually take a look. You put your hands on your hips as your eyes scanned over the engine.

“Yep.” You said to yourself, taking a pause. “I don’t know shit about cars.”

You grabbed your phone and closed the hood. Who were you kidding?

You got back in the car and dialed your dad’s number.

The phone didn’t even ring. There was just the immediate ended-call beep. You pulled the phone away from your ear to glare at it for not working properly. The screen read ��call failed.”

Great. You didn’t have reception now either.

What the hell? It was working a few minutes ago.

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you rested your head on the steering wheel. You were definitely well and thoroughly fucked in this situation.

You lifted your head, resting your chin on the steering wheel. A previously unnoticed light ahead caught your eye.

Perhaps that is a gas station or some other source of respite.

So you got out of your car and started your sorry little trek to the gas station, shivering every time the wind blew just a little too hard.

Should’ve brought a damn jacket.

In your defense, it was summertime, so your crop top and shorts made a lot of sense for daytime weather. You just hadn’t anticipated having to walk half a mile at night. Clothing aside, you were being incredibly vigilant as you walked. Tonight just didn’t feel like the right night to get murdered.

As you got closer to the gas station, you could see it was dead as hell. Not surprising given you were in the middle of nowhere, in the middle of the night.

Two dudes standing on the corner of the building caught your eye. One was wearing black ripped skinny jeans and a white hoodie, pulled up over his head. You could see his messy long black hair coming down out of the hood. The rest of his face was obscured by a mask.

Maybe he’s worried about getting sick?

The other one was a bit taller, also wearing a hoodie, but his had stripes on the sleeves and he didn’t have it pulled up, which left his shaggy brown hair and a pair of goofy looking goggles on top of his head completely visible. There was also one other super notable feature about him, which was that he was wearing a huge bandage on the left side of his face.

These guys look kinda sketchy.

Other than your quick glance at them, you tried to keep your head down and walk into the gas station quickly. Once inside, you walked straight up to the counter, only to see it was empty.

There’s no one working here?

You waited for a bit, thinking maybe they had just walked to the back or were on break or something. A peruse of the aisles didn’t seem like a bad idea, but even after finding a monster and some candy, no one had come to the counter.

“Hello?” You called into the store, only to get silence back.

You waited for about 5 more minutes, your stomach starting to churn. Your original plan was to come in here and beg to use the phone, but there was no person behind the counter to beg to, and no phone in sight for you to just take matters into your own hands.

After another ten minutes of waiting you weren’t only anxious, but now you were feeling pretty pissed too. What kind of gas station doesn’t even keep staff on at night?

I’m fucking stealing this shit.

You walked out of the gas station, fuming, only to find that those two guys were still standing there.

Can’t hurt to ask.

You swallowed your fear and walked up to them, both of them turning to look at you as you walked up.

“Hi, um, sorry to bother you guys, but do either of you have a phone I could use?” When the pair just stared at you for just a beat too long you decided to keep going. “I promise I’m not trying to steal it! It’s just my car broke down and I’m not getting any reception out here.”

The tall one chuckled and you could tell the other guy was smiling a bit beneath his mask, they exchanged a glance before looking back at you. The pale one in the white hoodie was the first to speak up. “Nah, we’re not getting any reception out here either, sweetheart.” His voice was gruff and a bit raspy.

Despite the bad feeling in your gut from the way they had glanced at each other and the fact that you felt like that was a lie, you pushed further. “Well… You two wouldn’t happen to know anything about cars would you?”

—

“So what are you -fuck- doing out here in the middle of the night anyways?” The tall one, who had introduced himself to you as Toby asked. You noticed he jerked his head to the side in tandem with the swear, but you decided not to ask, it was probably some kind of medical condition or something.

“I was just passing through on my way home from visiting a friend. I hadn’t really anticipated my car totally malfunctioning.” You were walking in between them, Toby on your right and the other one, Jeff, on your left. You hadn’t really thought much about the way the three of you had fallen into stride, but now as you walked with them you felt a little nervous about being alone with them.

You cast a glance at Jeff, who had been a lot quieter than Toby. He glanced at you at the same moment and you immediately averted your eyes.

That shouldn’t have made my heart flutter like that. That’s just pathetic.

“You’re not go- -cough- gonna ask what we’re doing out here this late? You must be pretty carefree.” Toby had leaned in to say to you, causing you to jump just a little, especially since his jerking caused him to lean his head even closer to you than you assumed he intended.

You immediately realized how rude you were being. “I’m sorry!” You clasped your hands together. “I totally just asked you guys for help and I haven’t even asked anything about you guys.”

“That’s what you’re worried about?” Jeff finally spoke up. “Not the smartest, are you?”

You cocked your head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“A girl alone asking two random guys for help when she has no way to escape? Pretty fucking stupid.”

Your brain short circuited, thrown off by the fact that he would say something like that so directly. You didn’t know what to say. Wanting to lighten the mood you just blurted out, “I mean at least you guys are hot.”

You immediately regretted it once it had come out.

What the fuck did I just say?

“Oh?” Toby had leaned in towards you again. “You’d just -fuck- say something like that so directly? Are you trying to ask us for something?”

“No, no!” You immediately tried to cover your ass. “I was just trying to make a joke or something. It was stupid.”

Jeff was looking at you now too, a dark look in his eyes. You could tell he was smiling under the mask, too.

“Are you a -fuck- sicko?” Toby asked, jerking a little more as you could feel his excitement rise. “Huh? Do you fantasize -fuck- about getting kidnap- -fuck- kidnapped by guys in the woods?” There was a clear fascination in his eyes, like he was dying to know the answer.

“I’m not!” You attested, holding your hands up in front of you trying to create a little bit of space between you and Toby. “I swear I was just-”

“This thing yours?”

You turned to see Jeff standing in front of your car. Thank god you were back to the car, it’s a worthy distraction.

“Yeah!” You said a little too eagerly. “I’ll go pop the hood.”

You circled the car and hopped into the driver's seat, pulling the handle under the steering wheel. The hood instantly jumped up with a little pop sound. You got out as Toby was pulling up the hood, propping it up with the hood rod.

You walked around the front of it, leaning over the car to point. “So it was making like a rumbling noise and it kinda sounded like it was coming from over here.”

You were completely bent over the car, painfully oblivious to the way your shorts hugged your ass.

They were on either side of you now, Toby a little closer than Jeff.

Jeez he really doesn’t know personal space…

“Yeah? It was over -fuck- here?” Toby jerked some more, pointing in the opposite direction you had shown them.

“No, it was more towards the back. Like-” You bent over even further to point in the direction of the noise. “Here.”

You made the mistake of looking over your shoulder right after you said that. Toby was way too close to you. Even worse, he looked like he was jittering with excitement.

Before you could even process that, his arms snaked around you. One around your hip to harshly press you against him and the other roughly squeezing your chest. He leaned in close to your neck, nose pressed against your hair before he inhaled deeply. You yelped in surprise, both from Toby and from the sudden sound of the hood closing.

“You always rush the fun parts.” Your eyes whipped next to you where Jeff was, pulling off his face mask which revealed two large gashes on his face, gruesomely exaggerating his smile.

“Yeah, but she smells so good.” Toby sniffed you again, then squeezed the places he was holding you even harder causing you to yelp again. “And I knew she’d make cute noises.”

“You’re scaring her. She’d like this better.” Jeff said, lifting your chin and pulling you into a kiss that slowly became sloppier as it went on. Electricity shot down to your cunt.

Your head was spinning, your body growing hotter as this went on. How did this even happen?

“Hey, that’s not fair -fuck-. I wanted -fuck- to kiss her first.” Toby seemed to jerk even more the more excited he got.

Jeff seemed to ignore Toby’s complaining, only pushing his tongue deeper into your mouth. You felt the wetness collecting in your panties, especially when Toby pressed himself even harder against you. You could feel how hard he was already, and that knowledge only served to send more electricity down to your cunt.

“Y’know you’re not really struggling at all.” Toby whispered to you. “I was right about you wasn’t I? You’re sick, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t answer, Jeff still occupying your mouth. Toby started kissing your neck, landing on the perfect spot to suck hard and leave a mark. His hand snaked down from your hip, dipping under your waistband and into your panties. His fingers slid between your folds, immediately getting coated in all your wetness. He groaned in your ear. “You really do like this don’t you? You’re so fucking wet.”

Jeff pulled away from your mouth, looking you in the eyes. “You’re fucking wet already? That’s pathetic.”

Toby bit into your neck, causing you to moan. Jeff grabbed your face, squeezing it as he forced you to look him in the eyes. He looked completely fascinated with you. “She really is a good one.”

Toby started to run his fingers in between your folds, deliberately slowing down each time his fingers ran over your clit. You bit your lip to stifle the moan that rose up. “See? Good thing I killed that stupid fuck at the gas station.” Toby said, sounding pretty proud of himself.

You froze, your face twisting into a horrified expression.

“Oh, what’s the matter, sweetheart?” Jeff teased, a sick grin on his face. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of us now?”

“Let me go!” You sounded panicked, starting to struggle out of Toby’s hold. Toby giggled at your attempts, they had no effect on his grip. He was much much stronger than he looked.

In some sick twist of fate, the fear was only making you more aroused, but there was absolutely no way you could let them know that. That would undoubtedly be disastrous.

“That’s the expression I love to see.” Jeff smiled wide, loving the way the fear was etched into your features. Toby bit you again, harder this time, causing a half scream, half moan sound to come out of you.

“You know that you’re only getting wetter?” Toby said, just to taunt you. He dipped a finger into you. “Fuck, you’re tight. You’re gonna feel so good wrapped around my cock, pretty girl.”

Jeff leaned down to your neck, biting down on the side opposite of the one Toby bit earlier. The pain caused you to cry out, only turning into choked moans as Toby slid another finger in and curled them forward.

Jeff had one hand on your waist and the other started unbuttoning your shorts as he sucked a dark purple mark onto your neck. Toby only continued to grind his fingers against your g-spot, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit.

Jeff pulled back to admire his work, biting back a smirk quickly before practically ripping your shorts down to the ground. “She even wore cute panties. Those for us, sweetheart?”

You whined in response. You were only getting wetter and wetter, your cunt making gushing sounds as Toby continued to pound your g-spot with his fingers. “I think she really likes being treated like a slut.” Toby said. “She’s not even fighting it.” He leaned closer to your ear. “You like it when we’re rough with you, don’t you, pretty girl? Makes your cunt feel good?”

Your eyes started to flutter back, and Jeff gripped your face once again. “Hey. Eyes on me, sweetheart.” He simultaneously wrapped his other hand around your throat. “Gonna come already?”

Toby let go of your chest, only momentarily though, so he could slip his hand under your crop top and bra and tease your nipples. The combination of everything was too much, you felt hazy and your brain was turning to TV static. The tension in your stomach was coiling and coiling until it finally snapped.

“That’s it. Good girl. Come like the pathetic fucking slut you are.” Toby taunted you as you came hard around his fingers, your cunt convulsing around them.

“Fuckkk…” you moaned out, your eyes rolling back in your head. “Don’t stop…” you just barely whispered, but it was loud enough for Toby to hear. He giggled in your ear. “God, you’re sick.”

Jeff was getting annoyed watching you two. Albeit watching you come was entertaining, he was a little pissed he wasn’t the one to make you come first. “Alright, my turn. Get her up on the car.”

Toby swiveled around with you in his arms, sitting back on the hood of the car with you on his lap, your back pressed to his chest. He hooked an arm under each of your legs, hauling them up and completely putting you on display for Jeff. “That good enough for you?” Toby asked, a little smug. He was clearly still feeling cocky from making you come first.

Jeff just rolled his eyes, sinking down to his knees. His face was just inches away from your cunt. He gripped your thigh with one hand, using the other one to spread you open even further with his thumb.

“Aww~, your pretty little pussy is trembling.” He snickered, looking right at your most intimate area.

You trembled in Toby’s hold. “What? You’re embarrassed now?” Toby asked, mockingly.

Jeff watched you tremble for just a second longer before licking a thick stripe up your cunt. A long moan tore out of your throat, your head falling back onto Toby’s shoulder.

More moans followed as Jeff started lapping at your clit, each stroke of his tongue sending waves of electricity through your body.

You were still so sensitive from coming a few minutes ago, so it wouldn’t take much to push you over the edge again.

Toby pushed one of your legs to the side, leaving you to hold it open yourself as he occupied his hand by pushing up your shirt, taking the bra up with it and exposing your chest to the cool night air.

He used the hand that was still holding your other leg to start kneading your chest and the other one to turn your chin towards him, tipping it upwards to claim your mouth.

You moaned into Toby’s mouth as Jeff’s tongue started to tease your entrance, dipping inside. He used his thumb to put pressure on your clit as he fucked you with his tongue.

Toby bit your lip a little bit before releasing your mouth. “You that close already?”

“Fuck…!” You moaned out, gripping Toby’s pant legs below you to ground yourself.

Toby roughly turned your chin towards him again, “You gonna come all over his tongue, pretty girl? Huh? Answer me.”

“I’m… coming…!” You whimpered, almost breathlessly.

Your climax seemed to never end, dragging on and on as Jeff continued to rub circles on your clit while he tongue fucked you. Finally, he relented and you were able to come down.

Jeff got up, already unbuttoning his pants. “Keep her up like that.”

Toby immediately refused. “What? No way. I want to fuck her first.” He let go of your legs and stood up, hauling you up with him. He turned you towards him, sitting back down onto the hood of the car and pulling you into his lap.

“You already got to make her come first.” Jeff argued.

“So?” Toby looked unaffected, already unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his cock out. “She’s already in my lap.” He looked up at you. “Besides, you wanna fuck me first anyways, right?”

You could barely focus on what they were saying, focusing more on Toby’s cock pressed against the entrance of your cunt. You were dripping onto him. The need to have him inside you was dire, and if you were honest you didn’t have time to wait for this argument to play out.

You rocked yourself against his cock, signaling how desperate you were. “Such a cockslut.” Toby muttered under his breath, biting his lip as he helped guide you onto his length. You both let out a groan as you sunk down slowly, taking him all the way to the hilt.

“Fuck… I knew you’d be tight.” Toby breathed out, gripping your hips with bruising force. You winced, and he looked up at you with eyes full of morbid fascination. “Does it hurt?”

His hold on you didn’t loosen as he lifted your hips and slammed you back down onto him, watching the way your face changed from pain to pleasure. “But you like it? It feels good?” He kept moving your hips up and down on his lap.

“Slow… down…!” You moaned uncontrollably. The more times you came, the more sensitive you had become.

“Really? You want me to? You’re creaming all over my cock right now.” He bit his lip.

It was then that your ears started picking up on the horribly lewd squelching noise made by your movements. You were creaming all over him. Tears were brimming in your eyes as you got closer and closer to coming again.

Toby slammed into your g-spot just a few more times just right until you finally broke, coming around his cock. You were almost crying out, letting out choked moans until he bit down hard on your shoulder. He let out a low groan and kept his face buried in your shoulder. “Du fühlst dich so gut an.” He mumbled.

You were too out of it to even process that he wasn’t even speaking English.

“He acts like we can even understand what the fuck he’s saying.” Jeff scoffed, his fingers prodding at your cunt.

“Jeff!” You whipped around, surprised that he had gotten so close without you even noticing.

“Hey what are you doing?” Toby narrowed his eyes at Jeff. “Wait your turn.”

Jeff had coated his fingers in the substance created by you and Toby and was slowly edging his finger into your cunt.

“She can take it. Relax, Toby.” Jeff rolled his eyes. You felt yourself stretch wider as Jeff got his finger in, pushing it as deep as possible.

“Oh my god…” you breathed out, gripping onto Toby even tighter.

“You can take it, can’t you?” Jeff whispered in your ear. “I know you can.”

Jeff added a second finger, stretching you even wider with Toby still inside you. The increase in pressure from behind was pushing Toby’s cock against your g-spot hard, causing you to tighten around him and Jeff’s fingers.

You leaned forward, burying your face in Toby’s shoulder so you could let out a guttural moan without having to feel so embarrassed about it. You lifted your hips as much as you could with Toby inside you, giving Jeff the perfect angle to slip into your cunt.

You felt the head of his cock push at your entrance as soon as he retracted his fingers. “Such a perfect little slut. You want to take both our cocks, sweetheart?”

You whined, hoping he would just fuck you already.

Jeff gripped around your throat, his voice coming out in a low growl. “I want an answer. Tell me you want both our cocks in you, fucking slut.”

Toby lifted your chin. “Look at me while you say it.”

It was absolutely humiliating having to admit that you were this greedy for both of them, but it only made you want it more. “I want… both… inside.”

Toby’s eyes went almost hazy, dazed with lust. “Gott, du bist so verdammt süß, wenn du auf meinem Schoß sitzt.” He whispered against your lips before hungrily kissing you as Jeff slowly started to push himself into your cunt.

It was unlike anything you had felt before, the feeling was so overwhelming you felt like coming just from having them both inside.

“See? I knew you could take both, just like a good fucking slut.” Jeff groaned into your ear, holding onto your waist and slowly pulling back before pushing into you again.

Your mind had gone offline, only able to focus on the overwhelming sensation in your cunt and the hands all over your body.

Toby’s hands gripped around your hips again, holding you tightly as he started to rock you in time with Jeff’s thrusts. You couldn’t even hold yourself up anymore, leaning into Toby as he slowly laid back on the hood of the car, pulling you down with him.

You could easily see on his face how good it felt for him, his cheeks flushed and his eyes were completely dazed as he stared at you. The intensity of the eye contact combined with the sensory overload was enough to make you climax again, not even able to really squeeze around their cocks with how much you were stretched, but it still had you shaking and whining.

“God… you’re taking us so well, sweetheart.” Jeff was pulling you down onto his cock even harder. “Gonna fill your pretty pussy up with so much cum.”

You were so pliable in their hands, allowing them to move you in anyway they wanted. The pleasure wracked through your whole body, making your muscles go limp.

Toby’s brain seemed to have come back online, finally adjusting to the tightness of having both of them inside. He got a sick grin on his face when he saw just how fucked out you looked. “I’m gonna break you.” He said breathlessly, before moving a hand off your hip to press on your clit.

It was then that you swore you could see your life flash before your eyes. You were going to die, death by orgasm. You collapsed fully on to Toby’s chest, giving Jeff an even better angle to fuck you. You came so hard you swore you could actually see stars.

“Fuck.” You heard Jeff curse, his thrusts getting more sporadic before feeling the warmth fill your cunt.

For just a moment, everything was still. The only sound was the overlapping panting of you three. You squeaked as Jeff slowly pulled out of you. Despite the loss, you still felt so full with Toby inside.

“Fuck you’re still so tight.” Toby almost growled in your ear. He gripped your hips and lifted you up off of him. You whined at the loss of him before you even registered how embarrassed you should be for whining at such a thing.

He quickly flipped you over on your back, like you were weightless. “C’mon, don’t whine. I just want a better angle now that I don’t have to share.” He harshly thrusted into you without warning, with an obscene gushing sound from Jeff’s cum still in your cunt. You gasped sharply from just how harsh and sudden it was.

“That was mean wasn’t it?” Toby asked you, cruelly. He was mumbling more to himself, “Ich kann dir nicht widerstehen, wenn du so wehrlos für mich bist.”

You finally noticed that Jeff had sat down next to you on the hood when he turned your chin towards him. “Be a good girl and clean me off?”

You opened your mouth, licking his half-hard cock clean of his cum and your juices. You moaned over his cock as Toby gripped your hips hard, drilling into your g-spot.

“Does it feel good when he fucks my cum into you?” Jeff taunted you, looking right into your eyes as you continued to lick his cock as best you could while you were completely fucked out.

Toby was getting more breathless, a series of groans coming from him. “Du bist so verdammt süß, wenn du so wehrlos unter mir liegst.”

Feeling satisfied with your job, Jeff pulled back, allowing Toby to fully focus on filling you with a second load. He pushed one of your legs back to your chest and leaned forward, fucking deep into you. “You want me to come? Huh? You want me to fill you up again?”

“Fuck…! Please…!” You were so close, desperate for just a little bit more.

Toby bit your neck hard, a half groan half growl ripping out of his throat as he came deep inside. The pain was just enough to send you over the edge, your cunt milking every last drop from him.

He kept his head buried in your neck and muttered something. “Ich kann dich nicht einfach davonkommen lassen.”

—

It was cold, your breath puffed out in front of you as you walked along the sidewalk, the streetlights barely enough to illuminate your path. You shoved your hands into your hoodie pockets, they had started to get red from the cold.

One of the flyers on the telephone pole caught your eye, strangely illuminated in the sea of papers stapled to the pole.

Your own smiling face stared back at you. The word “missing” written in big letters at the top, with a physical description of you written right under. The text at the bottom listed where you were last seen and where your car was found.

You stared at it for what felt like forever.

“Getting distracted, sweetheart?” Jeff asked, tilting your chin towards him.

Toby grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to him and away from Jeff. “C’mon -fuck- pretty girl. We got places to be.” He jerked his head to the side.

“Pfft. You two are always the same.” You smiled, walking along with them.

Okay so btw, back when I wrote another Toby fic (which I will post later) I did some research to make my characterization more accurate. So according to the users of reddit, for the most part tics will subside during sex, so I wrote it that way here. Just wanted to clarify that I didn’t just forget to write his tics halfway through.

Hope you enjoyed~

[sparrowrye]

The Archivist's Oath || Alastor x Reader, Chapter 9: losing patience

Synopsis: Alastor is feeling pressure to perform and he's starting to take it out on us.

Master List

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Warm sunlight streamed from the window over the small desk and the only sound came from the scratching of pencil on parchment. Peace and quiet was familiar company, but it was the peace that was missing.

I sat haunched over the desk, trying to absorb myself in the mindless work set before me. My eyes scanned the pages until I was sure my own gaze would burn a hole in the paper. I couldn't concentrate, but it wasn't as if I wanted to anyways.

Alastor sat at the edge of the desk, chair tilted back and legs crossed as he sifted through and marked various papers. He appeared unbothered and uninterested in me, almost as if I wasn't in the room, but I knew better. For the first few days, I had been left alone to translate and showcase my work when he returned.

However, he recently made a maddening habit out of sitting at the edge of the desk, facing me and resting his arm on the lip of the table, for several hours at a time. He rarely said much, but his eyes spoke volumes of the unsaid.

I sighed as I repositioned myself. The usual headache was forming between my eyebrows and I wasn't accustomed to sitting in one position for this long. In my bunker, translations were usually broken up by chores to give both my mind and body a break from the work. With Alastor here, I was afraid to even put down my pencil.

I scowled at the piece of wood in my hands. On my third day, he had given me a box of new pencils to use. I was grateful I wouldn't have to ruin his mother's pencils, but the idea of using something he had 'gifted' made my stomach churn slightly.

My eyes glanced at the ceramic mugs sitting on stone coasters in the back corner of the desk, nearest to the wall so neither of us accidentally bumped them with our elbows. Alastor had been sipping on the blackberry tea periodically but I had yet to touch mine, as I often did. It wasn't so much that I believed he had some special concotion to make me more compliant as it was that I didn't like accepting his kind gestures.

I feared I would fall compliant through his little gestures alone--attempting to make things feel like they had been in my bunker and allowing my guard to drop. I wouldn't let that happen.

"You've been on the same page for the past hour," Alastor said suddenly, breaking the stiff silence.

I stiffened but kept my eyes glued to the page. "Translating takes time." I forced another three words out just to make a point. I wanted to add, Not that you know anything about that, but didn't.

Alastor's voice was smooth and laced with subtle warning. "You have translated the other two with relative ease but this one seems to be taking you exponentially longer."

"Greenhouses and rebuilding ecosystems are one thing. Chemistry is another," I argued mildly. It was true. The books on greenhouses and ecosystems had been simple and easy to translate. I wasn't sure if the knowledge was true since they were written during the Great Downfall, but I had faith in my ancestors. However, that meant I had faith in what their chemistry could do and the damage it could cause. I was keen on providing that kind of information.

"I hardly see a difference," Alastor said. He hook a red finger around the handle of the cup and watched me closely.

"Chemistry is complicated and dangerous," I explained, eyes on the book to avoid his gaze. "And rushing a translation could mean losing important information. After all, you know that I'm required to translate with honesty and integrity." It was a pointed remark that referred to the day in which he brought a scroll of my oath and read out a portion of it to justify his means.

"Is that so?" He didn't sound the least bit convinced as he placed the cup down. A paper fell from his lap and he leaned over to pick it up, the very tips of his ears brushing the edges of the desk.

"Yes," I replied firmly. "English is a hard language, Chemistry is a difficult topic that I don't understand, and some of the pages are missing or worn away."

He straightened up and furrowed one of his eyebrows. "English?"

"Old World language," I corrected.

He fell silent and I thought, for a moment, that I would have a break from his prodding questions. I was wrong when he finally asked, "The markings are different in some of your books. I've seen Old World, Common Tongue, and something else." He shifted ever so slightly to lean further in the corner of my vision. "Is there something else?"

I clenched my jaw. I forced air through my nose and sat up straighter before meeting his eyes. "Yes. It's called Archivist Code."

His eyebrows quirked up, shock and interest evident on his expression. "I take it that's another precaution of some kind?"

I nodded then let out another sigh. I returned to the page and pulled the chair closer to the desk. "Every Old World book is translated into Archivist code. Then, when we want to share information, we translate the code into Common Tongue. I've never translated from Old World to Common Tongue so forgive me if it's taking me a little longer to juggle the languages."

"That means you can speak three languages," he suggested. I shrugged in response. "Impressive."

I paused, my pencil hovering over the page. The compliment had done exactly what I didn't want it to and make my stomach curl and cheeks redden. I turned my head away to hide my reaction and pretended to scratch my face.

Alastor allowed us to lapse in silence again. I purposefully translated to the end of the page then flipped to the next one. I usually never paid attention to him, but this time something caught my eye.

I'm not sure if it was the way he did it or if it was a gut feeling, but I suddenly felt like the shift in papers was in response to my action. He made a mark on his paper then slipped it behind the others, as if he had just marked down when and which page I had just finished.

He caught me watching and I turned sharply back to the page.

I wasn't far in the new page when he broke the silence again. "I find it curious though," he drawled. "Your progress has been...methodical. Too methodical. A page and a half a day for two days, then two on the third day. Then repeat." He fixed me with a look that felt like he was seeing right through me.

I gathered my resolve as best I could and answered, "I'm not stalling if that's what you're getting at."

"That's exactly what I'm getting at." His voice suddenly turned sharper. "I don't need to know Old World language to read you."

I leaned back against the chair and tossed the pencil on the desk, meeting the challenge. "If you think you can do it better, by all means. Have at it."

His eyes narrowed. "Don't get smart with me."

I held his gaze for a moment, heart thundering in my ears. "You kidnapped me, Al." My voice rose with the mixture of fear and anger. "You're forcing me to work for you, for a city I've never seen and for people I don't even know. And you expect me to happily go along with it just because you found a loophole in my oath?"

His expression didn't change, but the temperature in the room seemed to drop. The papers in his hand disappeared in a green flurry as he rose from his chair. "What exactly do you think stalling will achieve?" He moved slowly, deliberately, and placed one hand on the desk and the other on the back of my chair. "A show of rebellion? A quiet protest?"

I swallowed around nothing as his shadow loomed over me, those crimson eyes faintly glowing in a way I knew only magic could do. He was doing it on purpose. "You can't force me to care about your city."

"No, but I can force you to fulfill your purpose. I want two pages a day."

I curled my hands into fists. "I can't do that. Chemistry is twice as hard."

"Two pages, Archivist," he hissed, bringing his face daringly closer.

Instead of scaring me, it spurred me on. "I will kill people if I translate this book wrong. Then I will be doing the exact opposite of my purpose, as you so eloquently put it."

"Then stop stalling and actually focus. We both know you're more capable than this."

I took a steadying breath to prepare myself for my next response. "I shouldn't expect you to understand. You're so used to having blood on your hands that you don't care if people die from my translation."

"Careful, darling." His tone was jovial but the weight of it was squeezing the breath out of my lungs. I didn't realize I was breathing heavily until I tried speaking again.

"I'm taking longer to translate because...because I don't want that blood on my hands. Perhaps you'rethe one who doesn't care about the city."

For a moment, he was silent. The air between us felt charged, like static electricity sticking to our clothes and lifting our hair. Then, to my surprise, he stood and threw his head back in laughter. I took the opportunity to finally get up from the chair so I would be close to his level.

When his laughing subsided, he fixed me with a wide grin and a tap on his cheek. "Oh darling, and you say I'm the manipulator." I attempted to respond but he cut me off, "I would admire such a skill if it wasn't directly inhibiting my timeline."

He crossed the short distance, backing me up until my spine hit the wall, and leaned down to speak directly in my ear. My hands hovered just above his chest, afraid to touch but wanting desperately to push him away.

"Stop dragging your feet like a child and translate two pages a day. Do not force me to revisit this conversation again."

As his footsteps receded and his presence slipped from the room, I found myself clawing at my chest. I pulled at the soft fabric and paced the room, desperately trying to wear off the unnerving amount of anxiety, as well as the boiling anger I hadn't felt since I was a teenager being locked in her bedroom.

~*~

Alastor had been dreading this meeting. It had been three weeks since he brought the Archivist under him and the first two weeks had been slow, and the third week had only progressed slightly better after their conversation. Lucifer requested a meeting with him and he already knew who else would be there making demands and laughing at his lack of process.

Vox was already sitting at the table when he arrived, a smirk as wide as the scar on his forehead. They were meeting in the same room as before but the flags had been stored away. Vox sat in the chair closest to Lucifer as he watched his old friend. Alastor, posing calmness and authority, closed the door behind him and sat in the chair directly across from Vox.

"What is the meaning of this meeting?" Alastor got right to the point.

"I'm sure you already know," Lucifer began gently. "Progress has been slow."

Alastor didn't hesitate. "She's one person with three texts to translate. It's not going to be fast."

"It's her life's purpose to translate those books," Vox immediately jumped the gun. "After doing it for what? Twenty-some years she's not able to do it fast? Unless...you're having trouble."

Alastor's smile quirked uncomfortably on one side of his face. "She is...difficult but not impossible." He decided to go with a certain approach to give up pieces of the truth. "She's been deliberately dragging it out but you've seen the progress grow this past week."

"Yeah, but by a slight margin," Vox replied. "We're running out of time. Storm Season is right around the corner."

"I'm well aware of the seasons," Alastor said slowly, pointedly. "But in case you forgot, Archivists are the hardest nuts to crack."

Vox barked a laugh. "Yeah, and she's cracking your nuts and you're letting her."

Alastor's shadow grabbed his neck but Lucifer's magic dispersed the shadow in an instant. Alastor turned sharply to the king. "Out of all of us, I am the one who best understands the stakes. Progress may be slow at first but my methods will yield more information." His claws were leaving behind tiny little wood curls in the table.

"We need results, not excuses," Vox said, rubbing his neck.

Alastor reigned in his emotions and sat calmly back in his chair. He rested a hand on his cane as he met those cold blue eyes. "She is not someone that can simply be cracked with brute force. Have you forgotten that the Archivists are raised to throw their life away for the sake of these books? You push her too far and she'll lay her life down rather than give you the information. She requires...finesse."

"Finesse?" Vox half laughed. "Sounds to me like you got attached to her. She fucked you once in the woods and now you—"

"Watch your next words carefully," Alastor threatened. Unbeknownst to Lucifer, Alastor's shadow had crawled up Vox's legs and were pushing needles all along his skin. They were dangerously close to his crotch. "My devotion remains to Pentagram City first and foremost. It always has."

Vox cleared his throat and tried shifting in his seat. "It's been three weeks and she's translated too little books that we can't reasonably do anything with it. Except Rosie's district. I'm just saying it might be time for a new approach."

"Rosie's district will fair the best because of her connection with the Archivist. She is prone to persuasion if done correctly. Mishandling her could mean losing our one and only chance at solving our problems."

"Unfortunately, we are still running out of time," Lucifer interposed. "We need time to prepare or invent whatever we need for Storm Season. If we don't have that soon, our population may drop by half and our walls become a landslide."

"I am working on it," Alastor said through gritted teeth. "Her progress will speed up once she gets in the rhythm, which I expect to be soon."

"You have until the end of the week, Alastor," Lucifer declared. "You have until then to show us substantial progress. If you fail, Vox will have a turn to get results."

Alastor was cleaning his jaw so hard it was eliciting a migraine. "If you give her to him then we risk losing any chance of having an Archivist work for us. His methods are...crude...and won't work on someone like her. He'll destroy her."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Vox grumbled. Alastor's shadow had returned to its master.

Lucifer's eyes narrowed at the Mage Lord. "You've always been confident Alastor. But confidence without results is just arrogance. If you can't show more progress, I have no choice but to hand her over to Vox. Consider this your last warning."

A smirk splayed on Vox's face and he crossed his arms. "You've had your chance, Al. Don't think for a second I won't enjoy proving you wrong."

"I'll get what we need," Alastor declared. "You won't even have to lift a finger, old friend."

Vox's smile quirked up even more. "We'll see."

~*~

I didn't want to be caught doing nothing so I sat at my desk for most of the day and waited until Alastor returned. I jumped in my chair when the door slammed so hard it rattled the floorboards. I stayed rooted to my spot and turned only when his loud footsteps came up the stairs.

His eyes were glowing an inhumanly bright red when I turned around. I stood quickly but he shoved me right back into the chair, jaws snapping dangerously close to my face.

"We need to have a serious discussion about your progress. Or rather, lack there of," he growled.

"W-what? I did what you asked. I've done two pages—"

"For someone who was raised to translate those texts, you're taking an awfully long time to translate a couple pages. You have no other chores or responsibilities and this is all you can provide?"

Something happened to make him suddenly so angry but I wasn't sure what. I couldn't think past the danger within inches of my face and the hands pressing my arms painfully into the wood of the armrests.

"I-I...I'm not...I wasn't...I can go faster with certain books but that chemistry one I—things can explode if I don't translate the right thing to a T."

"You've been dragging your feet like a child." He let go of my arms and straightened, still standing close so I had to lean back in the chair to look up at him. "You've been wasting time."

My legs were shaking. With a gentle tone in an effort to deescalate the situation, I said, "Alastor I promise I haven't been dragging the chemistry one on purpose. You said two pages a day and I've done that. But it's a very dangerous topic. If I make a mistake it could kill people."

"You claim I'm a manipulator." He walked away and glanced through the mountains of books, my catalogue in his hand but out of my view. "But you are no better. You translate the same amount of pages, the same amount of words, in the same given hours. It's too methodical. You're sticking to your pattern which means you could be doing more and you're choosing not to for the sake of prolonging the inevitable."

I swallowed, hands gripping the edges of the chair as I watched. He picked up a seemingly random book and turned to face me. It was small, the leather cover worn, and the rope binding coming apart. I recognized the stamp on the front. It was a complete history collection of the events of the Great Downfall. My grandmother had been the one to copy it after the last one was growing too old. The stamp meant it was of high importance, but Alastor couldn't possibly know that.

"I've done what you said," I said carefully, slowly pushing myself from the chair.

"I have been kind and understanding. But I have run out of patience." From his fingertips sparked a flame.

"No!" I screamed. I barely made it halfway across the room before he threw it in the empty fireplace. I dove for the book but his arm snatched my waist. More flames sprouted from the wood and started to eat away at the dry pages.

I slipped under his arm but his other hand came around. I pushed, jumped, dropped, and clawed, but it was useless. I reached for his face but something cold and smooth caught my wrists, yanking them away. I picked my foot up to dig my footclaws into his leg but they were rooted to the floor by the same inhuman force.

"That's history!" I cried, lurching my body towards the burning book.

"And so will you be if you don't produce better results," he hissed directly in my ear. I caught his cheek between my teeth and he reared back, an animalistic noise escaping his throat.

"You don't know what you're doing! I don't have that book anymore! It's irreplaceable." Even as I spat, fought, and screamed, I knew it was too late. The book was already too far gone to save it. The pages were burning before the leather.

"What I do know is that you're hellbent on testing my patience. You're prolonging the inevitable and I won't have it. This—" he grabbed my jaw and forced my head sideways to look at the fire, "—is what happens when you waste my time."

I didn't realize I was off balance until he let go and my knees hit the floor. I grabbed a stoker and pulled out the more than half eaten book on the stone slab. I waved my hand over it to snuff out the flames with magic, but I knew it was too late.

Only the edges of the bending and a quarter of the pages were left, barely legible. My shaky hands hovered over the ruin as tears fell down my cheeks. Slowly, I looked up at him. "How could you do this?"

"I am not playing around anymore."

"I wasn't either!" I stood and pounded my chest with my hand, voice wrought with anger and grief. "You're asking me to translate information that could kill people if I don't do it right."

"Then do it right at a faster pace."

I stared at him, dumbfounded. There was no reasoning as there had been before. I was talking to a brick wall. "What is wrong with you?"

"You have pushed my patience." He stomped bis foot near mine. "This is the consequence if I don't see better results tomorrow." He turned on his heels and tapped towards the stairs.

"You really think this'll make me work faster?" I challenged, making him halt. I wiped my face with my sleeve to see him better.

Without even sparing a glance over his shoulder, he answered, "I know it will."

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Author's Note:

I promise, promise things are going to get good next chapter. Vox likes to meddle ;)

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Reflection Readers:

@fynariel

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Taglist:

@sirens-and-moonflowers @papas-ghoulette

[fairytales-and-folklore]

Chapter Sixteen: Valentine's Day

No less than a fortnight after New Year's Day, the papers filing for Jenny's release had gone through (it really helps, having a lieutenant for a sister) and she'd immediately moved into the apartment with Abbie and her partner in crime, Mr. Tall, Dark, and British. 

Jenny, having totally called it from the start, merely threw back her head in laughter and said, it's about damn time, when Abbie had told her that they were officially dating. Crane, ever the gentleman, had graciously offered up his bedroom to her, and had taken to sleeping on the couch, keeping what few belongings he possessed in a small corner of the living room (though it hardly mattered, given the fact that he spent every other night in Abbie's bedroom, anyway…Jenny wishes she could say that her noise-cancelling headphones actually work…but hey, if this date goes well, who knows? Maybe she'll finally have the chance to get back at them.)

She's just stepping out of her bedroom and heading toward the living room, when she hears the telltale sound of hushed giggling coming from the other side of the couch. More than a few times over the past month, Jenny had caught Crane sneaking out of Abbie's bedroom at some ungodly hour of the morning, clad in nothing more than one of Abbie's fuzzy, embarrassingly short (well, at least, on his pale, hairy legs) bathrobes, to grab a fresh pair of pants…but this, by far, is so much worse. 

When Jenny peeks around the side of the couch, it's to find Crane wrapped around her sister, one hand weaving through the strands of her hair, the other creeping under the hem of her shirt, both of them making out and grinding against each other like a couple of horny high school kids with nothing to lose. And, because this truly is a nightmare come alive, Jenny is almost certain that she just saw tongue.

"I would say 'get a room,' but I doubt it'll even make a difference," Jenny teases, hovering above them with her arms crossed over her chest, one threatening eyebrow raised in faux disgust and amusement at having caught them in the act. 

Jenny can't help but burst out laughing as Crane immediately bolts upright, his eyes growing comically wide as he shifts all the way to the other side of the couch, and perches on his hind legs like a disgruntled bird. Abbie, on the other hand, isn't the slightest bit fazed, propping herself up on her elbows, swiping the back of her hand across her lips, and giving Jenny a sheepish smile.

"What?" Abbie whines, drawing out the word. "It's Valentine's Day…leave me alone, I'm entitled to this."

  Crane dithers about for a moment, torn between an antiquated sense of nobility and the desire to adhere to this century's customs on courting, before leaning forward, one finger held up in the air in surrender as he tries to get back on Jenny's good side.

"I am terribly sorry for what you have just witnessed, Miss Jenny. I can only imagine how discomfiting it must be for you to have caught your sister and her lover in such a compromising—"

"Ew," Jenny grimaces, holding up a hand to stop him. Ichabod immediately falls silent, embarrassment coloring his features.

"Don't give yourself a coronary, Crane. It's fine," she says, waving off his concerns. "Just, please never say the word lover again."

Crane gives a sheepish nod. "Duly noted."

"Plus, it's not like I'm gonna have to see it for too much longer, anyway," Jenny adds, lips curling into a small smirk.

"Oh?" Ichabod asks, perking up. "You've got plans for the evening, have you?"

"Frank's taking me out," she says, casually shrugging it off like she hasn't been looking forward to it all week.

"Oh, so that's why you're all dolled up tonight," Abbie teases. "I wondered about the dress…which is mine, by the way…so thanks for asking before you stole it out of my closet. Some things never change, I guess."

"Red always looked better on me, anyway," Jenny ripostes, smirking.

"So, are you guys, like…official, then?" Abbie asks.

"Maybe," Jenny drawls, hiding a small smile. "We'll see how this date goes…but let's just say…there's a pretty good chance I won't be coming back home tonight."

"Okay, now it's my turn to be grossed out," Abbie laughs, while Crane, not quite understanding Jenny's implication, looks back and forth between the two sisters, one eyebrow quirked in confusion.

"Oh please," Jenny retorts. "I hardly think we're even in the same category…at least, not yet."

"Hey, I never said you could invite my boss over here for your weird, nasty hanky-panky," Abbie argues. Crane mouths the words hanky-panky, posing them as a question as he looks toward Abbie for an explanation. Abbie wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, giving Crane a lascivious smile, and that's all it takes before he's nodding in sudden understanding, the tips of his ears turning an impossible shade of red.

"Okay, but you also never said that I couldn't," Jenny counters with a sly smile. "Plus, I live here now, too. I've got just as much say as you do. And anyway, I deserve it, after all the stuff I've had to put up with from you two and your little…nighttime escapades."

"Nope," Abbie quips, popping the p for full effect. "My apartment. My boyfriend. My rules." Abbie stares down her sister's playful pout with a smug smirk, too intent on reveling in the comfort and familiarity of their lighthearted banter to catch the little flare of a smile that spreads across Ichabod's lips at the word boyfriend, or the way he tries to hide his contentment in that little downward cast of his eyes. Jenny doesn't miss it, though, and, in spite of herself, can't help the small smile that forms as a result.

"Anyway," she says, rolling her eyes and lightly kicking the back of the couch with the tip of her cherry red heels. "You guys got any Valentine's Day plans…dare I even ask?"

"Honestly, we're probably just gonna order some takeaway and watch cheesy romantic comedies all night."

"Right," Jenny teases. "I'm sure I know how that'll end."

"With lots of cuddling and hot cocoa, I should hope," Crane chimes in, offering Abbie the palm of his hand, which she graciously accepts, entwining her fingers with his and rubbing small circles across the surface of his skin with the pad of her thumb.

"Ugh," Jenny scoffs, rolling her eyes in mock revulsion. "You guys are gross. I'm leaving…all of this cutesy romantic crap is making me sick."

"Oh, you love it," Abbie laughs, wrapping her arms around Crane's neck and pulling him back down beside her.

"Yeah, whatever…but remember, dear sister, payback's a bitch," Jenny says, giving her an animated wink before shrugging on her jacket.

"Don't wait up for me!" she calls on her way to the kitchen, curling back the curtains and biting back a smile at the image of Frank Irving strolling up toward the apartment complex. She slings her purse over her shoulder and twists the doorknob, but just before she leaves, Jenny overhears the end of a conversation that makes her want to scrub out her brain with bleach.

"That's your dress?" Ichabod whispers from the other side of the couch, peppering every few words with a soft trail of kisses. "I've never seen you wear it…and I think I would remember a dress like that."

"That's probably because you already had it off well before your eidetic memory even had a chance to retain it. And besides, you were far too focused on…other things…to take proper notice," Abbie giggles, her voice low and salacious.

"Oh. Well, I suppose that's true," Ichabod says, laughing along with her, before swallowing the rest of her words in a kiss. Jenny makes a face as she closes the apartment door behind her, resolving to keep the dress on if things do go well with Irving tonight…just to spite them.

You Always Want What You're Running From

Sleepy Hollow » Ichabbie

Title: You Always Want What You're Running From

Author: fairytalesandfolklore

Fandom: Sleepy Hollow (Masterlist)

Relationship: Abbie Mills x Ichabod Crane

AO3 Rating: Mature (a complete collection of author's notes, inspiration credits, content warnings and tags can be found on AO3)

Summary: When Abbie invites Ichabod to come live with her, the last thing she expects is for him to start feeling like home.

She'll tell herself, over and over again like a mantra, that it's because she feels indebted to him, that she feels bad for him, that it'll make their casework much easier if she can keep a constant eye on him, that it's convenient.  But really, it's because, in spite of everything, in spite of an impending apocalypse that only they, the unwilling witnesses, can prevent, he keeps her grounded, keeps her sane. For reasons she can't explain, she trusts him.  She hasn't trusted anyone like this since Corbin…and now, Crane is all she has left. In his company, she feels secure. Protected. Cared for. They've only known each other for a short while, and yet…Crane's company feels like home. Besides…how bad could living with a man from the 1700's truly be?

Read On AO3 | Read On Tumblr: Chapter 1 » Chapter 2 » Chapter 3 » Chapter 4 » Chapter 5 » Chapter 6 » Chapter 7 » Chapter 8 » Chapter 9 » Chapter 10 » Chapter 11 » Chapter 12 » Chapter 13 » Chapter 14 » Chapter 15 » Chapter 16

[0vergrowngraveyard]

the end nine’s story really was an “alls well that ends well!” moment

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)

synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you do—except he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break

word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)

contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when you’re kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered i’m sorry

notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak

everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguru—and likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.

they’re a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luck—there is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard who’s had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and you’re stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.

you’ve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothless—you were six, it’s normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesn’t mean he escaped the toothless phase himself—but satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.

you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.

when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.

satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.

it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.

he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.

you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.

but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.

“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”

you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.

he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.

he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.

“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”

“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”

“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”

“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.

he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.

“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”

“satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”

“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”

“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”

“sure,” he chuckles.

and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.

“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.

he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.

great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.

you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.

“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”

“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”

“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.

with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”

you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.

you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.

you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.

—————

just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.

the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.

this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.

how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.

his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.

instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.

his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.

the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.

“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.

“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”

it’s way too early for this.

by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.

that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.

maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.

“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”

he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.

that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.

“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”

“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”

“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”

satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.

but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.

his bare chest, in fact.

you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.

“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.

this is…new. very, very new.

“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”

“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.

you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.

“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.

it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.

“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”

“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”

“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”

“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.

and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.

this is going to be a longer break than you thought.

—————

the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.

you grin, reaching over when—

“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”

“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.

“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.

“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.

he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.

it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.

“do you still throw away the ends of these?”

you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”

“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder. 

“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”

“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.

“yeah, as if.”

“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.

ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence. 

“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.

“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he’s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”

yeah. very snobby.

“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.

he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.

“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”

“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”

“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”

“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.

satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”

“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”

“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”

something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru’s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.

“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”

“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”

“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”

it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.

“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.

“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”

“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.

“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”

“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”

“i know you’re not talking—”

“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.

but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.

“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”

“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”

“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”

“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”

“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”

“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.

suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.

“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”

you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.

you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.

you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.

and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.

—————

satoru meets you when you’re six. 

he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard. 

somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.

a magnetizing one, in fact.

it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you. 

when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.

the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him? 

he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.

so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs. 

your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better. 

he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop. 

“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines. 

it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.

“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his. 

satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone. 

it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction. 

“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”

he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru. 

“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”

he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower. 

fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you. 

“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”

and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.

would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.

god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.

he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you. 

it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?

——

“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”

“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends. 

oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted. 

“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”

“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”

“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”

“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”

“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”

satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.

silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.

—————

it’s night four. 

satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new. 

he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome. 

scarily handsome, in fact. 

you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend. 

maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen. 

you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.

you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.

“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”

“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk. 

“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”

“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused. 

he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”

“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”

“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.

satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle. 

“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”

“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.

it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.

“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him. 

you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?

he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”

you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it. 

“how would you know—”

“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”

“he was hot—”

“yeah? and i’m not?”

he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it. 

“satoru, what are you—”

“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”

“and what am i supposed to do with this information?” you ask defiantly.

it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information. 

“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”

and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips. 

so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.

your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble. 

“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”

“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”

“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone. 

no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples. 

“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw. 

“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.

“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”

“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.

“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb. 

“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign. 

for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”

“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”

“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”

you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core. 

“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”

that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.

it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.

“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”

“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up. 

but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you. 

“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”

before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal. 

you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale. 

“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.

“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”

he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face. 

satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him. 

your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.

suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can’t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night. 

it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length. 

you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.

he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more. 

“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”

“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”

so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you. 

“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”

“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”

“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”

“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”

“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”

“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”

satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him. 

your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans. 

the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness. 

you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.

“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”

“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”

“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you. 

it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.

your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever. 

“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”

“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin. 

“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”

suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.

fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.

“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”

do not comment about a part 2

but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything

[bbybearcubbs]

On the first day of the new year too.

[whimsyfinny]

Sexy F*cking Nerd

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: When Dean discovers a little secret of (Y/n)'s during a case research session he can't help but let temptation get the best of him.

Warnings: Language, Smut, Fingering, PinV, Oral (M receiving), slight angst if you squint, Dean having a glasses kink (not really a warning but not everyone wears them hahaha lucky bastards)

MDNI! 18+

Word Count: 5688

A/N: It's taken a little while but here is the second competition winner from a few weeks back, the prompt provided by the wonderful @foxyjwls007 - I hope you like it!

The motel room was stuffy to say the least - that usual aroma of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener lingering around us. There was a dripping sound coming from God knows where and the AC hummed in between the concerning clinking from deep within the vents. It was crap. So crap. But it was home for a few nights; just like all the motel rooms that came before. Dean stepped past me and over the threshold, immediately slinging his duffle and jacket onto his chosen bed. He stretched his arms above his head, the grey Henley clutching his muscular abdomen and rising enough to flaunt what lay beneath. I sighed, following him in and slumping onto the bed beside his - the musty stench from the sheets enveloping me.

“Well…” Dean started, pulling Sam's laptop out of his bag and placing it on the small table by the window.

“Well…?” My voice echoed as I focused on the ceiling fan that spun off centre.

“...This is… nice?” His statement was more of a question as he looked around with raised eyebrows. I propped myself up on my elbows, flashing him a look of speculation.

“Seriously?” A moment passed before he huffed a long-held breath and slapped his large palms on his thighs.

“No of course not, this place sucks more dick than a hooker on payday.”

“You got that right,” I flopped back down onto the bed, a small dust cloud erupting under my weight. I closed my eyes and listened as Dean pulled a chair out from under the table, slumping down into it. Then there was the familiar click of the laptop opening followed by the sound of stuttered not-quite-touch-typing, presumably he was starting work on the case that we’d come here to investigate. The tap tap tap of whatever was leaking began to drill into my brain, my patience already wearing thin with the rooms dire ambiance. I pulled myself up to sitting, criss-crossing my legs on the bed and brushing whatever that dust from the bedding was off my sweater sleeves.

“When's Sam back?” I asked, watching as Dean searched the keyboard in front of him for some long lost letter.

“Uuuh, I'm not sure. He said to work this case without him.”

“Ugghhh, I bet he's having way more fun than us right now, it's not fair,” I plopped my chin into my palm and stared past the older Winchester out the window, almost willing Sam to appear and walk in like any other day.

“It's just some dumb wedding, I doubt he's having that much fun.”

I scoffed before I could stop myself, Dean breaking eye contact with the screen to throw me a raised eyebrow.

“Look,” I collected myself, “you didn't know Sam in college. He won't admit it but he was popular. Really popular. Not the total nerd you think he is. He's absolutely having fun with these people.”

“Yeah right. So who's at this wedding anyway? Why was it so important that he just had to be there?”

I rolled my eyes, knowing full well Sam had already told him all the details. Typical Dean.

“It's for a couple of friends who he and Jess were close with back then. Pretty sure the bride was prom queen in highschool or something and the groom was a trust fund jock. Either way, not my crowd,” I sighed slightly, memories from my college days flooding my mind.

Deans eyebrows twitched into a small frown, his thoughts seeming to cloud his vision for a second before he reluctantly dismissed them. I looked down into my lap for a moment, reminiscing how I always kept my distance from Sam whilst at Stanford, but he had always been that boy that would make my heart flutter when he spoke up in class or when I'd see him on the quad with his friends. I remember seeing him with his nose in a book once at my usual desk in the library, my cheeks burning when he caught me staring. Who would've thought several years down the line I'd be sat in a bottom-rung motel room with his obscenely good looking older brother researching monster lore. At least we would be researching monster lore, if it wasn't for the small growl my empty stomach had gurgled out. I couldn't stop the small pulse of embarrassment burning into my cheeks as Dean eyed me with a grin.

“Wanna get some lunch?” He asked, standing up like he already knew my answer.

“Fuck yes. I'm feeling burgers,” I shuffled to the edge of the bed and stood up, watching as Dean shrugged on his leather jacket and headed to the door, holding it open for me.

“Now you're speaking my language.”

*

The diner was almost as sad and withered as the motel room, however the food was nothing short of spectacular. I watched in awe as Dean polished off his second burger, a small glob of sauce sticking to his stubble and threatening to drip off his chin. He must've felt me watching in wonder - or perhaps disgust - as when he looked up from his plate he shot me a questioning glance.

“What?” His tone was a little defensive through the mouthful of fries he'd just shovelled in. I took a second before asking, half-genuine:

“Where do you put all of that?”

“Put what?”

“The food - where does it go? Do you have hollow legs? Two stomachs? Does it just evaporate as soon as you swallow it?”

He grinned, wiping the sauce from his face with a napkin.

“Goes straight to the abs baby. It's muscle fuel,” he leant back in his chair, stretching a little before patting his stomach to punctuate his statement. I simply rolled my eyes.

“Yeah right, you're not that muscly Dean.”

“How would you know? You've never seen me with my shirt off.”

“I know, and I plan to keep it that way.”

He feigned a pout before returning to his fries. We ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, my mind absently going back to all the lore we should be trying to gather. I gripped my milkshake that had so generously been served in a thin paper cup, attempting to suck the practically solid beverage up the equally thin paper straw. Finding the nearest library would be the next task on our to-do list, despite the protesting I know I'll get from Dean.

“Hey, (Y/n)?” My train of thought was derailed at the sound of my name. The slurping of over-thickened milkshake from myself ceased.

“What's up?”

“What were you like in college?”

I eyed him with caution, wondering what part of his brain was in control right now.

“What do you wanna know?”

Catching the wariness to divulge him to such information, he smiled slightly, shrugging his shoulders.

“I'm not asking to be weird, I just-” he paused, choosing his next words tactfully, “the way you described Sam as being a totally different person - some hot-shot with the perfect grades, popular friends and a girlfriend like Jess - it just got me thinking. How would Sam have described you?”

I almost spat my dairy-goop back into the straw, my brain freezing.

“Dean,” I started before planning what I was going to say, placing my cup on the table. “Sam wouldn't be able to describe me.”

My words brought a small smirk to his lips.

“You were that hot, huh?”

“What the fuck- no- I wasn't- he didn't- Sam never- ” I stopped myself before I had an aneurysm and took a deep breath.

“I was in a totally different crowd to Sam. He was always surrounded by people and, well, I barely even had a crowd.”

“Lone wolf?”

“Bingo. But definitely not the cool, collected, stoic type. Think more, invisible to the public eye, always carrying books, and borderline selective mute because of how shy I was.”

“Oh… what changed?,” Deans tone changed entirely, genuine intrigue seeming to take the wheel. I couldn't help but laugh slightly, remembering my method to forcing myself out of my bubble.

“The only job I could get was in a bar. No one else wanted the hours and I desperately needed cash. I didn't really have a choice after that,” I paused, remembering how terrified I was on my first day and grinned slightly, grateful for the extra confidence I had now because I took that leap.

“Hey, what sort of crowd do you think I would've been in?”

I snorted, looking up into his expectant eyes - almost captivated by the glistening greens.

“What am I? A BuzzFeed quiz? I have no idea Dean, you're too much of a wildcard to predict. You probably would've fit in with anyone and everyone.”

“Even you?”

For reasons unbeknownst to even myself, my breath caught in my throat. The sudden soft sincerity of his voice contradicting his usual temperament, my heart starting to flutter in my chest. If the college version of myself had met Dean back then I just know I would have been enthralled at first glance.

“I don't think you would've noticed me. You would've been surrounded by every tall, thin blonde and brunette with perfect tits. Trust me, you would've been distracted,” I smiled an almost sad smile at the thought of him simply being on university grounds and having the time of his life - knowing it was something that he was never going to get the chance to experience in this upside down life of his. Of ours. He tapped his fingers on the table for a second, likely lost in some ludicrous thought I don't think I'd want to be privy to. I attempted another slurp of my milkshake when the paper straw gave out and flopped in half, the need to leave conversation and the diner suddenly looming over me.

“Come on, let's get to the library before it closes,” I stood and pulled my oversized sweater down so it covered my ass before reaching for my backpack. Just as my fingers touched the worn fabric of the strap it was torn away, my head snapping up to Dean who flung it over one shoulder with his signature grin on his face.

“Lead the way nerd.”

I couldn't help but beam at his playfulness. I hated the fact that he made it so easy to adore him. Hated that he completely overlooked how I was his total opposite in almost every way. How when we were talking, his eyes never left mine - how he was genuinely interested in what I was like in the past. And how, when I had his attention, he didn't even notice that the hot waitress had written her number on a napkin and left it next to him.

*

The trip to the library was about as eventful as it sounded. After checking out multiple books on cursed items, local lore and popular antiques from the seventies, we loaded ourselves back into the impala, made an all-important beer run before heading back to the motel.

The small table by the window was now totally smothered by a blanket of books, maps and empty beer bottles. Deans chin rested in his palms as he stared blankly at the screen in front of him, and I must've read the last sentence of the paragraph laid before me a dozen times without it even sinking in. The obnoxious dripping and humming of ancient appliances was starting to make me feel restless.

“It has to be the boots,” Dean groaned, draining the last of his beer.

“Either the boots or the disco ball. But my money is on boots as well,” I sighed, pushing the book away from me and standing slowly, gathering the quickly accumulating litter now scattered around us.

“I'm gonna make some coffee, my brain is fried over how fucking ridiculous this case is,” I ditched the trash in the bin before filling the coffee machine, listening to it whir to life whilst I headed to my bed. I could feel Deans gaze on my back as I rummaged around my bag in search of a specific item.

“What are you looking fo-” he'd started to ask the question but his voice died in his throat when I turned around. I quickly pushed my newly adorned glasses up the bridge of my nose, already feeling the oversized frame start to slip down as I tried not to make a big deal over them.

“What?” My tone was a fraction off aggressive when I realised he was staring. He seemed to snap out of his daze, quickly rubbing the back of his neck and turning back to the laptop screen. He cleared his throat

“I uh, I didn't know you wore glasses,” I could tell from the slight tremble in his voice that his mind was reeling.

“Is there a problem with that?”

“No! I mean, no, absolutely not. They look good. The glasses, I mean. The glasses look good. Not on their own, obviously. On your face. They look good on your face. You have a great fa-”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry.”

I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and set it on the counter, filling it to the brim with caffeinated goodness. I couldn't stop the grin spreading across my lips at Deans fumbling, almost finding the whole ordeal a little charming. I sat back down at the table and pulled the books back towards me, also grabbing my pen and tattered notebook.

“The guests at the club mentioned hearing footsteps - so it has to be the boots, right? A disco ball wouldn't make that sound…” my voice trailed off when I realised that, even though Dean was looking at me, he wasn't listening to a word I was saying.

“Earth to Dean?”

He flinched slightly at his name, but felt no shame delving in with a completely off-topic question.

“So how long have you worn glasses?”

“I’ve always worn them,” I slid back into my chair at the table opposite him, not sure whether to laugh at the shocked expression on his face or whether to be concerned about his observation skills.

“What?! No way, I would’ve noticed,” He opened another beer and took a sip before tracing the opening to the bottle over his bottom lip.

“ I only wear them for concentration work, and I have emergency contact lenses if I know I’m going to be around a lot of people as I don’t particularly like how they look.”

Dean made a small disagreeable expression before averting his gaze from mine back to the laptop, taking another swig of his beer. I placed my coffee mug down and settled back into the book I was reading before, and after a few moments I could feel my skin begin to prickle - as though I could feel a pair of eyes on me. I glanced up, my breath immediately catching in my throat. Deans eyes found mine, burning with an intensity that made my heart hammer in my chest. I didn’t want to look away, but under his gaze I felt like I’d been stripped bare, unable to hide my insecurities from an eye that seemed to scorch through to my very core.

“Dean-”

“(Y/n), you should really have more confidence in yourself; I think the glasses look cute as fuck. You should wear them more,” a fierce blush erupted across my face when he spoke, his assured tone leaving no room for disagreement. I tried desperately not to let on that his words held any sort of impact over my decisions so I looked down, away from his scrutiny and simply said:

“Maybe I will.”

He hummed in approval, finally looking elsewhere and I couldn’t stop myself from breathing a sigh of relief when the pressure of his stare was averted.

The evening dragged on and an hour and a half had passed since his loaded comment. I was on the third book we’d checked out of the library, now trying desperately to find the curse that would cause a pair of 1970s glam rock boots to dance for eternity and haunt anyone who tried to wear them. This case was absurd, and I could feel myself growing restless with the small amount of progress we’d made. I huffed out a sigh and leant back in my chair, the faux leather and rusted metal creaking under my weight. Pulling the hair bobble from around my wrist I scooped my hair into a bundle on the top of my head, securing it in place; the sensation of air on my neck seemed to clear some of the fog from my brain. The messy bun was comfortably enough that I could forget it was there, and I allowed myself a stretch before leaning back over the table, grasping my pen. As I began to read the next segment, I absently traced the end of the pen over my bottom lip, running it back and forth a few times before gently nibbling on the end. I heard the shuffling of Dean moving in his seat and a ragged clearing of his throat before the sound of vigorous laptop keys clicking ensued. Without looking up at him I continued reading, the pen still tapping my bottom lip, and when I neared the bottom of the paragraph, I slowly licked the pad of my index finger. My eyes never leaving the words, I turned the page swiftly with my dampened digit, the transition from one page to the next perfectly seamless. Another shuffle from the man opposite followed by a quiet groan filled the silence between us. Pen still between my teeth, I lifted only my eyes to glance at him and noted the dusting of pink across his cheeks and the furrow in his brow. Concluding that he’d had one too many beers I decided to ignore his persistent fidgeting, returning to my previous task on monotonous reading. Several sentences in and I’d almost forgotten Deans restlessness - that was until I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, deep in thought, that I earned myself a throaty groan and an exasperated sigh. I looked up just in time to watch him wipe a large hand down his face, momentarily masking his pained expression.

“Can you not do that? I can’t concentrate when you do that.”

“Do what?” Upon asking my question I absently took the pen between my teeth again, quickly glancing down at the book to place a mental bookmark.

“That.”

“What?”

“That. That thing you do with our mouth, and the pen, and your tongue and your finger. Can you please stop before it kills me.”

The heat beneath my skin was immediate at his admission, knowing my small, absent-minded actions were playing on his mind and making it hard for him to think straight. I instinctively crossed my legs, a fluttering in my lower belly instantly dragging my mind back to the deprived things I’d imagined Dean doing to me in the depths of night. The places I’d imagined his hands travelling, the areas his lips would touch and the sensations his tongue could create. These were deeply, deeply personal fantasies, and right now as Dean looked at me with a restrained hunger, I felt like I was wearing these fantasies for the world to see. For Dean to see.

“It doesn’t help that you’ve been sat over there like a sexy fucking librarian all evening, but every time you do that anything with that mouth - shit, sweetheart you’re driving me insane.” His voice was gravelly as he looked at me with desperate eyes across the table. The overly rational part of my brain had shut down completely, and now the part of my mind that had spent hours conjuring vivid scenes of Dean Winchester ravishing me in my entirety had taken the charge. I stood slowly, taking a moment to reason with myself - unsuccessfully of course - before sinking to my knees in front of my chair. I could see Deans strong thighs were spread wide beneath the table so I crawled forwards, across the cold tiles and placed myself between his legs. Resting my palms softly on his thighs I made him flinch at the unexpected contact. He immediately scooted his chair back, allowing a gap for me to poke my head through - his hand instantly acting as a barrier between the edge of the table and my skull. I got comfortable and allowed myself a moment to gaze up at him, to take in the strained furrow in his brow and the parting of his lips. I observed the way his chest rose and fell in apprehensive breaths, and the way his free hand clenched into a fist on his thigh - like he was so desperate yet so scared to touch me.

“(Y/n)-”

“Dean,” I spoke softly, slowly running my hands up his thighs - delicate palms against rough denim, “you’re a smart boy - you know I wouldn’t do something I didn’t want to do. So please, don’t say I don’t have to do this.”

Dean released a shaky breath the moment my fingers unclasped his jeans. I tugged them down slightly with his help, just enough so I could dip my hand into his boxers and wrap my fingers around his half-hard length. The moment my skin touched his, his head lolled back and his eyes fluttered closed with a breathy moan on his lips.

“Fuck…”

I gently pulled him from his confines, coming face to face with the cock I’d literally dreamt of again and again. I took the scene in, committing to memory the sharp outline of his jaw and the way his long lashes rested on his lightly-freckled cheeks. The way that, every time he breathed in, I could see his defined muscle tone through the thin fabric of his shirt; and with every small caress that my fingers made against his length, it made his fingers twitch and teeth clench. I licked my lips before leaning in and took his tip into my mouth, not giving him a chance to finish sucking in air through his teeth before I plunged his entire length down my throat. 

“Oh FUCK.”

His hands flew to my hair, fingers gripping tight as they loosened strands from the messy bun, causing them to fall around my face. He’d lifted his head to look down at me, pupils blown as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. He looked nothing more than enthralled. Infatuated. Entranced. I moved my head up and down, up and down, again and again to a steady rhythm, pressing my tongue to the underside of his now rock-hard cock to trace every vein and nerve-ending.

“Shit, (Y/n), I didn’t know you could suck cock, like, at all… how’re you s’fuckin’ good…” his voice was breathless as he continued to grip my hair, his head flopping to the side as pleasure started to overcome his senses. I released him with a small ‘pop’, wrapping my fingers around him and smearing the warm mixture of saliva and precum from tip to base.

“Despite everything I told you earlier, Dean, I’m not a virgin - and this certainly isn’t my first rodeo,” my voice came out more sultry than I’d expected and I could feel Dean tremble beneath my palms.

“Fuck, I wish I’d known that sooner,” I chewed on my bottom lip, quickly becoming addicted to the way he writhed at my touch. The way he moaned and gripped my hair tighter when I sucked him back into my mouth was like pure ecstasy, my insides heating up and throbbing with an ache of familiar arousal. Like a thirst that could only be satisfied by him. By tasting him, feeling him on my tongue and drinking in every sound that passed his plush parted lips. The sensation of my glasses slipping down my nose as I sped up my ministrations had me reaching to push them back up, but not before Dean beat me to it. With the rough pad of his thumb he pushed on the plastic bridge, his palm and fingers pressed to my flushed cheek in the most tender, almost heart wrenching caress. I thought my heart might stop when he tilted my face up to his; lustful eyes burning into mine with a vehemence I’d never encountered. I stopped in my tracks, all actions ceased as the spell he’d somehow put me under wouldn’t let me look away. 

“If you keep going like that darlin’ this whole thing is gonna be over before you know it,” his voice was raspy, a rawness to it from the harsh breaths and ragged moans that had been pulled from his throat. He slowly pulled his cock from my spit-slick lips and grasped it loosely, giving himself a few lazy pumps whilst his other hand never left my face. He stared down at me, taking a few moments as though he was committing the sight of me, knelt between his knees with flushed cheeks and swollen lips to memory. Once it seemed that memory was locked away in the depths of his mind, he grasped me by the arm and pulled me effortlessly into his lap, his fingers almost bruising against my skin. Immediately I felt him, in his entirety, press against me with the heat and wetness seeping through my jeans and past my panties. This time when our eyes met, there was a mutual desperation; a need to consume each other and to feel every inch of his heated skin against mine. He pulled me frantically down to him and crashed his lips against mine. 

Some people describe their first kiss with someone like butterflies in their stomach, or fireworks exploding all around them. That wasn’t at all what this was like. Kissing Dean Winchester was different - it was wild and untamed - and describing this experience in such a mundane way would be like adding water to a top-shelf whiskey. Kissing Dean Winchester was like driving the impala at one thirty with the roar of the engine drowning out the rest of the world. It was like trying to ride a wild mustang without a saddle, or daring to stand on the highest peak on Earth with nothing to tie you down. It was exhilarating in the most dangerous way imaginable - and I was now officially a thrill seeker. 

The warm taste of the beer on his tongue and the masculine scent of old leather and cologne was pulling me under. Breathing no longer mattered as long as his mouth was on mine and his fingers were in my hair, now tugging the bobble out and throwing it to the floor. As my hair tumbled free he grabbed under my thighs and stood effortlessly, moving me from his lap to the edge of the table without his lips leaving mine. I winced slightly as the corners and several books and the laptop jabbed into my rear and I fumbled to move everything aside, failing when I refused to unlock our lips. Deans patience was non-existent and with one sweep of his strong arm everything tumbled to the floor - including the laptop. I threw the remaining books from underneath me down to join them, no longer caring for their wellbeing. Before I could pull Dean back in - to allow him to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do to me - he hastily pulled off my boots and tugged down my jeans, throwing every item to the growing pile of chaos beside us. I discarded my sweater and top, but before I let his fingers touch my bra I wanted nothing more than to return the favour. 

“I guess you can forget about that whole ‘never seeing me shirtless’ thing, huh?” he smirked through the sexual fog, not waiting for a reply as his lips hungrily found mine again, his own top falling to the floor. 

“Shut up Winchester. Now are you gonna fuck me or wh- OH FUCK-”

Two thick fingers crept under my panties and plunged into me with zero hesitation, curling up and stroking the sensual cushion deep within my core with skillful precision. 

“Oh yeah? You want me to fuck you?” Even with my face now buried in the crook of his neck, I could hear the smirk in his voice, the tormenting tone going straight to my brain.

“Y-yes- fuck- please,” my knees twitched either side of him, squeezing at his hips with every push of his fingers. I gripped his shoulders tight, nails indenting his skin as I leant back to look at him better. Seeing the beads of sweat on his chest and brow alongside the raw, carnal desire in his eyes could have undone me there and then. He frowned in disapproval when I moved to remove my glasses, the fingers that were just inside me now wrapped forcefully around my wrist.

“What d’ya think you’re doing?” straight away I knew his growling question left no room for negotiation.

“I was just-”

“The glasses stay on.”

“To the end?”

“‘Til I say you can take them off.”

I did as I was told, moving my hand to grip the soft strands on the back of his neck, softly dragging my nails over his scalp and drawing a shiver from his spine and a groan from his lungs. He pulled me against him, crushing his lips against mine one more time. He swiftly pulled away and I leant back on my hands, both of us taking a moment to drink each other in - to bask in lascivious glory. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and looked up at him through my lashes, the lenses of my glasses starting to fog around the edges. Another deep moan rumbled from his chest as his heated gaze stayed locked to mine.

“I can’t wait any longer now that you’ve looked at me like that. Fuck.”

With a large hand gripping the soft flesh of my thigh he pulled my underwear to one side and lined himself up, slowly sinking in. Blissful moans harmonised between us, the rawness of him stretching me was unlike anything I’d ever experienced and my quivering thighs wrapped around him, pushing him to the hilt. He secured his large hands on the soft flesh of my hips and held me in place as he slowly withdrew. I could feel him; feel every ridge and vein drag out and then in, out and in, over my most sensitive, intimate, area. The slick sounds of our intimacy  began to echo around the room as he picked up speed, strong thighs working at a feverish pace. With every thrust he pushed against that one spot that made my legs jerk and eyes water, my arms almost giving out underneath me as the table rattled beneath my weight. With the ferocity of his pounding and the heightened sensitivity he’d curated between my legs only moments before, we both knew that neither of us would last long. The sounds of his ragged breaths and throaty moans alone had me clenching around him already, and I know my constricting muscles already had his hips stuttering as I sucked him in with every thrust.

“Fuck (Y/n)- You’re so fuckin’ tight-”

I chewed on my bottom lip as his desperate eyes met mine.

“Oh yeah? Well I feel like you’re cock is in my fucking ribcage- oh fuck-”

He slipped one hand between us, his large palm resting on my lower belly as his thumb drew fast circles around my clit. The immediate contact on my bundle of nerves had my whole body quivering, the knot of an impending climax already starting to twist tighter and tighter in the depths of my core. The way that Dean fucked me into the motel room table was something that I would be able to feel deep in my soul for the rest of my life - my body and entire nervous system having never been worked in such a feral way before. Dean dropped forward and crushed my body into his - one large strong arm wrapped around my trembling body and kept me pressed against him as his head dropped to the crook of my neck. Soft lips pressed hot kisses against my shoulder, teeth gently nibbling the soft flesh as the coil wound and wound, the wave of orgasmic bliss rising higher and higher as my mind emptied, leaving behind only one thought.

Dean.

He was all consuming - all I could see, taste and smell. All I could feel. Oh God could I feel him; driving me to the brink of pure bliss as he frantically sped up - desperate to seek his own undoing as well as my own. One… two… three more fervid thrusts and the peak he’d helped me ascend to shattered around me as I practically screamed his name, the white-hot euphoria scorching my insides as I clamped like a vice around him. 

“Oh shit- (Y/n) I can’t- fuck-”

I grabbed the back of his head and pushed his mouth to mine as he came undone, spilling inside me as he worked through his own white-hot euphoria. 

The kiss we shared evolved from hot and needy to soft and wanting - the sensation of hot cum running down the inside of my thigh and cooling against my skin being the only thing to pull me away. Dean continued to lean over me for a moment, looking down at me with an expression that told me he had so much he wanted to say. Instead, he looked down at his release now starting to pool on the floor beneath us, then to the books and laptop that had been thrown across the floor before turning back to face me with the most devilish grin on his face.

“You know that this mess is all your fault, right?”

I scoffed.

“My fault? How is it my fault?”

“Because, sweetheart…” he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and pushed lightly on the plastic bridge sitting on my nose.

“You put on on those fucking glasses.”

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

Taglist: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @libby99hb @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung

[lovemomhatepolice]

i'll make it fit - rafe cameron

navigation taglist requests

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: sexual overtones, established relationship, fingering, teasing, unprotected sex (PROTECTED YOURSELF), this damn tiny polo!!, English is my second language!, NO SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER!

type: totally smut (this is the first time i've written something like this, which has practically no plot at all, just sex itself. keep my fingers crossed that it didn't turn out badly!!!), small plot but really small

word count: 1,8k

summary: rafe cameron likes things too small for him.

more content: obx masterlist, rafe cameron masterlist

Mornings in Tannyhill were mostly quiet. Since Ward Cameron was dead and his entire family had moved to a house in the Bahamas, it was quiet there. Hearing of Sarah had disappeared - she was probably somewhere with her friends, again putting her life at risk, nothing new. And the only one who lived there was Rafe, who had taken over the company from his father and decided to return to the “old garbage.” Well, and you lived there too, by the side of your beloved. You couldn't have dreamed of a better life.

You were awakened by the bright rays of the sun, which rudely crept through the slightly parted curtains into your shared bedroom. You dragged yourself lightly and glanced at the clock, which was on the bedside table and, as usual, was making that unbearable sound.

After muttered under your breath, you slipped out from under the warm quilt, which, to say the least, wasn't all that necessary - after all, it was summer. But by the fact that you were in just a lace petticoat, it definitely enveloped you with a warmth that was missing.

You didn't know what time it was, but by the fact that Rafe wasn't next to you, you knew it was probably after nine o'clock. You didn't have to look for him for long, because as soon as you stepped out into the hallway from your bedroom, you heard his voice. You looked out the balcony door, which was gently open, and smiled at the sight. Rafe, in a freshly stitched buzzcut, was sitting on the couch talking on the phone. In front of him on the coffee table he had papers spread out and a laptop in which he was busily tapping something. As soon as he noticed you he sent you a slight smile, but he was so engaged in the conversation that he did nothing more. And you couldn't be passive, after all, he was wearing a beautiful blue and damn tight polo that exposed his perfectly shaped biceps. You laughed quietly, seeing him nervously tweak them as they rolled up higher and higher each time, not covering as much of his arm as they should.

Despite his serious tone on the call, his eyes would flicker toward you every few moments, his smile softening just enough to let you know he was glad you were there.

Not one to resist temptation, you decided to have a little fun. You strolled over to him, moving slowly, letting your fingers trail along the back of the couch as you circled around to where he was sitting. Rafe’s eyes darted up, narrowing slightly in a silent warning.

You didn’t make it easy for him. With a mischievous smile, you leaned over and whispered into his ear, "That polo looks a little tight, don’t you think? You might need help taking it off later."

“Uh, yeah… sure,” he said to the person on the other end of the call, clearing his throat as if to regain his composure. “Send it to the office, they'll take care of it,” he muttered, hanging up.

You moved your hands over his shoulders, gently massaging them. Rafe put the phone down on the table, closed the laptop and leaned his head against the back of the couch, looking at you.

“You know what you're doing, huh?” he parroted under his breath.

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, letting your breath tickle his skin. “Just trying to make sure my man relaxes after handling all that business.”

“And what am I supposed to do with you?” he muttered, covering yours with his hands. “Whatever you want,” you muttered, going down with your palms on his chest. “Oh, but this polo is really too small for you.” Rafe laughed under his breath and gracefully helped you past the couch so that you were now standing in front of him, between his legs. You were in just a white lace slip that didn't cover much underneath, so Rafe could immediately see your hardening nipples.

You let out a soft laugh as Rafe’s strong hands gripped your thighs, pulling you effortlessly onto his lap. You straddled him, your knees sinking into the plush cushions of the couch on either side of his hips. The way he looked up at you—like you were the only thing in the world that could hold his attention—sent a warm rush through your veins.

"So needy" He muttered, stroking your hair and putting it behind your ears. “Who would have thought that you would beg for my attentions so much?”

“I'm not begging,” you muttered, swallowing your saliva loudly.

You could have sworn that in that moment Rafe heard your loud heartbeat. And even though you had been together for more than a year, he continued to trigger the same feelings in you. “No?” he asked ironically, his hand touching your pussy, which was covered only by a thong. “I would say something else.”

“Rafe,” you muttered, gently pushing your hips out to meet him as his nimble fingers pressed your clit harder. “So wet,” he mumbled, moving your panties aside and nimbly sliding his ring and middle finger into you.

You brought your face closer to his and grabbed his jaw, bringing your lips together in a sweet kiss. It was still quiet around you, the only things you could hear were the birds and your moans, drowned out by your boyfriend's mouth.

His thumb moved to your clit, the touch was light, teasing, his fingers tracing slow circles that sent tingles up your spine. And his fingers didn't stop moving up and down, each time hitting the exact same spot. Rafe knew what the fuck he was doing, he always knew how to make you in heaven in a moment by his precise movements. He knew your body like no one else, just like you knew his.

“Cum for me, baby,” he said, moving his lips to your naked neck. You felt you were close - Rafe did the same, following the feeling as you pulsed on his fingers. You didn't have to wait long until your body shook with pleasant and familiar reflexes, and you came on his fingers, burying your head in his neck.

Rafe took his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth, sucking on them. Oh this sight and Rafe in his damn tight blue polo, was something too strong for you to go through. You moved against his lap, letting him know that this was not what you wanted. “Still eager, huh?” he laughed throatily, but you didn't have to wait long. Rafe always knew what you needed and you got it right away. "You taste so good, baby"

“Rafe please,” you muttered, clasping your small hand over his large cock, which was getting harder and harder under you. “Anything for you,” he muttered, quickly getting rid of his pants.

Without much warning, he entered you. Slowly at first, because you knew very well that he was big. And even after so many times together, you continued to feel a slight discomfort at first. But Rafe always made it fit. He couldn't resist your tight pussy, which was even screaming for his attention. “Fuck, tight as ever,” he whispered, correcting himself on the couch so that you were more comfortable. “But don't worry, I'll make it fit.”

And as he said, so he did. With agility, he began to move inside you, making both of you nothing but moaning messes.

“Wait, I want,” you said, putting your hand on his chest. On that damn sexy polo. “Oh, a princess wants to take control?” he laughed under his breath, catching you under the thighs, but as if on cue he stopped moving inside you, making you feel again how big he was inside you. You groaned involuntarily, but didn't give in. You moved nimbly on top of him, practically taking him out of your pussy every now and then, and then lowering yourself all the way down again.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe groaned, his head falling back against the couch, exposing the strong line of his throat. His eyes were hooded, his lips parted as he watched you, completely entranced by the way you were moving, the way you were making him feel.

You could tell he was trying to hold back, trying to let you set the pace, but the way his fingers flexed against your skin told you just how badly he wanted to take control.

“Not yet, Rafey,” you muttered, moving even closer to him. “You deserve the best. Especially, when you're in that slutty polo"

You increased your pace, but Rafe couldn't stand it anymore either, and came against you, entering your pussy from below. At that moment your bodies were merging at the perfect moments and places, so you were already not far from orgasm. And with that, he captured your lips again, his kiss rougher this time, more urgent. There was no more teasing now-just the raw, unfiltered need that always simmered between you both, threatening to spill over the edges.

“I'm so close,” you whispered into his mouth, clamping your pussy against him every so often. “I know, baby, I can feel it,” he muttered into your mouth, gently biting your lip to reach inside again. "Mmm, so good for me"

Rafe grabbed your buttocks and with even more force began to pound his cock into you. Your tongues fought for dominance, and your hands couldn't find room on his body, clamping down on the collars of his shirt.

"Shit" he murmured into your lips, feeling as his cum shot into your pussy, making quite a mess.

Not much later you too reach climax, clenching around his dick. Exhausted, you leaned on his shoulder kissing his neck. Rafe stroked your back, still calming down after the orgasm that hit you surprisingly hard this time. You felt him smiling over your shoulder, so you shared his happiness, smiling too. You moved your head off his shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes now. He was still inside you, so every movement, made quiet sighs come out of your throats.

“What's so funny?” you asked, stroking his jaw and kissing the corner of his mouth gently.

“Maybe I should wear that tight polo more often, just to find yourself in your tight cunt again?” he laughed lightly, returning your kiss.

“Oh shut up, asshole,” you muttered, lowering yourself on top of him once more until he groaned and settled his head on the back of the couch, pulling you against him.

A/N: I know there's a lot of Rafe or Drew here lately, but I swear, when I see this man, I feel so ungodly that oh jesus, i hope you enjoyed this

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[babeforjjmaybanks]

orange soda crush ༊*·˚

pairing: popular!rafe x shy!femreader ౨ৎ

summary: rafe's grades were slipping, to say the least. your school assigns you as his tutor, hoping maybe you could save him. one afternoon, rafe shows up to your house with in need of some help.

warning(s): dry humping, fingering, finger licking, mentions of biting (hickeys), thigh riding, marijuana use, swearing, size kink if you squint, mentions of scratching, slight overstim, rafe becomes whipped so possessiveness, innocence corruption(?), praise, slight perv!rafe, titobsessed!rafe, dni if you don't like!!!

mentions of: rafey, rafe is called a "sex symbol", y/n, sweetheart, good girl, baby, sweet girl, dumbass, needy girl, slut, doll, cute, pretty ౨ৎ

a/n: if not known already, this is basically a obx highschool au, pogues and looks still exist but it's more like jocks and nerds. both reader and rafe are seniors, not minors! I don't have much experience with writing fics but here's my current fixation, enjoy & leave notes! <3

word count: 4168

divider by: @issysh3ll

y/n had been sitting quietly in her history class, the bell signaling the end of the period ringing in the distance. she was gathering her books when the overhead speaker crackled to life, interrupting the usual noise of students packing up.

"pardon this interruption, y/n l/n, please report to principal phelp’s office immediately."

the announcement hung in the air, drawing the attention of a few nearby students. she froze, a slight chill running through her. she wasn’t the type to get into trouble—her grades were impeccable, she kept to herself, and she was always on time. so why was she being called to the principal’s office? her mind raced through all the possible reasons, none of which seemed likely. had she missed an assignment? was there a mistake with her records? or was it the skirt she decided to wear today that definitely didn’t meet the dress code?

her heart pounded as she made her way down the hall, the sound of her footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor. as she approached the principal’s office, she noticed the usual hustle and bustle of students outside. some of them exchanged glances, their curious eyes following her every step, looking her up and down with whispers and sly looks. when she reached the door, she hesitated for a moment before knocking lightly.

"come in," came the deep voice of principal phelps.

she opened the door to find him sitting behind his desk, a manila folder in front of him. the room was neat, almost too perfect, the smell of old books and polished wood filling the air. but what really caught her off guard was the figure sitting across from him.

rafe cameron, the school's golden boy.

her stomach dropped. rafe was sitting with his arms crossed, his signature smirk plastered across his face as he looked over at her. His messy curtain and athletic jacket seemed almost out of place in the sterile office, like he didn’t belong in this space. she had always known of him, of course. he was the star quarterback, the guy everyone knew by name, the one who seemed to glide effortlessly through life. and now, here he was, looking at her as if he had all the time in the world, while she, on the other hand, was caught off guard and confused.

"there she is, come on in we were just talking about you." principal phelps said with a warm smile, though she could detect a hint of urgency in his tone. "take a seat."

she sat down hesitantly, trying to avoid looking directly at rafe. the tension in the air was palpable, and she was acutely aware of how out of place she felt in this situation.

"y/n," principal phelps began, folding his hands in front of him, his expression turning serious, "I’ve called you here because I need a favor. you know rafe, right?"

you glanced at rafe again, his eyes diverted to something else in the room as if he wasn’t staring at you. he seemed unfazed by the situation, though there was a subtle flicker of something in his eyes. "um, yeah," you said quietly, not sure where this conversation was going.

principal phelps nodded. "well, rafe here has been struggling in a few subjects. he’s having difficulty with math, english, and history.” principal phelps cleared his throat trying to ignore the fact that he named almost every class. “and unfortunately, his grades are slipping dangerously low. If he doesn’t get his grades up, he could lose his eligibility to play on the football team, which would jeopardize his scholarship opportunities." he paused, giving her a moment to process the gravity of the situation.

she blinked, her mind racing. rafe? struggling? the same rafe who could probably get away with doing the bare minimum and still pass every class? the same rafe with the fancy sport cars and the fancy mansion he threw ragers in? (allegedly, she’s never been to one.) the same rafe who had never so much as acknowledged her existence in all the years they’d been in school?

"I’m asking you," principal phelps continued, leaning forward slightly, "to tutor rafe for the next few weeks. he needs to pass these subjects to stay on track. and I know you’re one of our top students, y/n. you’re smart, diligent, and patient—exactly what rafe needs right now."

rafe shifted in his chair, his smirk faltering for just a moment. "yeah, sweetheart," he added with a lazy grin, "I could use your help. think you can handle it?" he glanced down at her thighs, and then back up at her. she felt her face flush at the sudden name.

her mind was spinning. she had never thought of rafe as anything more than the popular guy—someone she’d seen in the hallways but never really interacted with. actually, that was a lie, the thinking part. she actually would think about rafe alot when she was bored, specifically his toned body and the way he bit his lip when he was thinking. she had no idea how to deal with someone like him.

"I—I don’t know," she stammered, feeling her face flush. "I’m not sure I’m the right person for this."

principal phelps’s voice softened, but there was still a sense of urgency in his words. "I’m sure you are. rafe, here, is a good kid at heart, but he’s under a lot of pressure. If you help him out, it could mean a lot to him—and to his future."

rafe’s eyes met hers again, and for a split second, she thought she saw something other than cockiness—a hint of desperation, maybe even embarrassment. but it was gone before she could fully understand it.

she took a deep breath. she had never been one to shy away from responsibility, even if the situation seemed overwhelming. she didn’t want to be the one to deny him help, especially when it could affect his future.

"okay," she finally said, her voice steady but unsure. "I’ll help."

principal phelps smiled, relief flooding his face. "thank you, y/n. I know this is a lot to ask, but I think you’re exactly what rafe needs."

as she stood up to leave, she felt the weight of the task ahead of her settle in. she glanced one more time at rafe, who was still sitting there, his posture slightly more relaxed now. He didn’t say anything, but she could feel the tension between them already starting to form, a mix of uncertainty and something unspoken.

"see you tomorrow, then," she said, her words more for herself than for him, before leaving the office to prepare for what was about to be an unexpected and challenging journey.

over the past two weeks, y/n and rafe had settled into a rhythm, though it was far from smooth at first. their tutoring sessions started awkwardly—rafe's usual cocky demeanor clashed with y/n’s quiet, no-nonsense attitude. he would slouch in his chair, often cracking jokes or making sarcastic comments, testing her patience. but y/n, determined to get him through the material, refused to let him off the hook. slowly, she found ways to get through to him, breaking down complicated equations and historical events into relatable, bite-sized pieces. rafe, surprisingly, started to respond. he still struggled, but he began showing up earlier for their sessions, staying later, and even asking questions without the usual bravado.

as the days passed, the tutoring sessions shifted from strictly academic to more personal. one evening, as they were going over a particularly difficult history assignment, rafe let slip that his father had been pushing him to be the perfect athlete, to always be "the best." "It’s not just about football," rafe admitted, his tone more vulnerable than she had ever heard. "I just don’t want to disappoint him, you know?" y/n was taken aback. she had always seen rafe as the confident jock, but here was a side of him she hadn’t expected—a young man weighed down by more than just his grades. she listened quietly, offering a rare, understanding smile that made rafe pause for a moment. after that, their sessions felt different. the walls that had once separated them began to crumble.

In the weeks that followed, their conversations drifted beyond just homework. rafe started sharing bits of his life with you—how he used to love painting when he was younger, how he struggled with anxiety before big games, and how he was terrified of failing his senior year. you, in turn, opened up as well, telling rafe about your dream of becoming a lawyer and how you often felt like an outsider at school. the two of you discovered common ground in your shared feelings of pressure, and the lines between tutor and student began to blur. with each passing session, you became more comfortable with one another, a connection forming that neither had anticipated—one built on mutual respect, trust, and the quiet bond of shared struggle.

it was a quiet evening when y/n heard the unexpected knock on her door. she glanced at the clock—there was no study session scheduled for that night, so she wasn’t expecting anyone. her parents were out, and she had been planning on catching up on some reading. she opened the door, a little confused, only to find rafe standing on her porch, looking uncharacteristically disheveled. his usual confident posture was gone, replaced with an uneasy slouch. his eyes were almost bloodshot, and he wore an unfamiliar look on his face—vulnerable, even fragile.

"rafe?" y/n asked, surprised. "what are you doing here?"

he ran a hand through his messy hair and let out a small, strained laugh. "I—I know this is weird. but I, uh... I had a fight with my dad. a big one. he’s pissed about my grades and shit again, and he’s been on my case all week." rafe hesitated, biting his lip as if trying to hold back a wave of frustration. "I... I got high. like really fucking high I know I shouldn’t have, but I just couldn’t handle it. and I needed to get out of there." he looked down at his shoes, his words a little rushed. "I just—" he sighed, clearly frustrated with himself. "I don’t know, I thought maybe you’d—just let me hang out for a bit. I didn’t know where else to go. I didn't wanna seem like a pussy to all of my dumbass friends."

y/n stood frozen for a moment, processing his words. she had never seen him like this. the rafe she knew was always in control, always surrounded by his friends, the football team, and the unshakable air of confidence. this version of him—lost, raw, and uncertain—was a stark contrast. her heart softened at the sight of him, and despite the oddness of the situation, she stepped aside and motioned for him to come in.

"come in," she said, her voice gentle. "let’s sit down."

rafe walked in slowly, his movements sluggish, still unsure of what to say. she led him to the living room and handed him a glass of water, sitting down next to him, a soft hand placed on his back. the room was filled with the low voice of lana del ray and soft hum of the evening, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. rafe finally looked up, meeting her gaze with a look of quiet gratitude mixed with embarrassment along with something untraceable. "I didn’t mean to show up like this, but I didn’t know who else I could trust with this."

y/n’s heart tightened. she had no idea how much weight rafe had been carrying, how much pressure he was under from his father and the constant expectations of being perfect. In that moment, she realized how little she had truly known about him, and yet here he was—vulnerable, raw, and seeking comfort from the one person he had never expected to rely on.

"you don’t have to explain," she said softly. "I’m glad you came." she gave him a weak smile, rafe felt his heart flutter. "so.. how'd you get high? is that stupid question? sorry, you know people are bringing cocaine back into school." he chuckles, she lets out a giggle. "no cocaine here sweetheart, just this." rafe reached into his pocket and pulled out a weed pen, but y/n had never seen anything like it. it was super colorful and weirdly shaped, not like the ones she would see in the bathroom. "can I hold it?" she glanced at rafe, her doe eyes dimly lit with the faint lighting coming from the lamp in the corner. "why? you smoke? no way." he raised his eyebrow at her, but handed her the pen anyway.

"no, I don't smoke but.." she pauses, biting her lip, "I'm tempted. maybe you're just a really bad influence." he scoffed at her, "give it a try, just hold the button and pull it." y/n stood at the device in her hand uncertain. "what do you mean pull?" rafe held back his laugh, she shoots him a glare. "I'm serious." she playfully shoved him.

"yeah yeah I can see that, by pull I mean, suck on it I guess." her face heats up, cursing herself for letting such innocent words cause a fluttery feeling in her stomach. "okay, I'll try." she focused her attention of the pen and did as rafe said, she put the pen up to her lips and "sucked." rafe watched intensely as her lips wrapped around the tip of the pen, he swallows hard. trying to keep his composure, aka stop staring at your boobs in your thin strapped top or imagine your lips wrapped around his dick like that.

you slightly inhale the smoke and it immediately gets caught in your throat. you're now in a coughing frenzy, embarrassed as rafe pats your back. "atta girl, that's how you do it don't try to hold it in, let it out." y/n found herself coughing even more at the sly remarks. she stands up and walks over to the kitchen hastily grabbing an orange fanta from the fridge. she struggles to open it due to her latest french tip set, rafe notices her struggling and walks over. he opens the can with one hand with a sizzle pop! noise, she brings the drink to her lips hoping to relieve her dry mouth.

after taking a couple minutes to calm down, y/n offers rafe to come up to her room. it comes off as a surprise, rafe had never been anywhere in y/n's house except the living room and kitchen, never upstairs. but with no complaint, he follows behind her, watching the way her ass moves as she climbs up the steps. they make it to her room and it's safe to say, it was tidy. everything seemed like it had a place, and the room was lit with purple led's. but the best part of it all, was her bed. the mattress was extremely comfortable and she had an abundance of pillows as well as plushies.

"yeah this fits you, like a doll in a dollhouse." he walks around her room a bit before sitting on her bed getting comfortable.

meanwhile, y/n on the other hand was in a whole other world.

her ears were burning almost, she could hear her heartbeat and her whole body was tingling. she felt nothing short of amazing, euphoric even.

the usual walls between them had melted away, and now, as the evening dragged on, the space between them felt more intimate than it ever had before. there was movie was playing on her TV, but neither of them seemed particularly interested in it. they were both laughing at the silly dialogue and weird moments on the screen, but most of the time their eyes kept drifting back to each other.

rafe broke the silence, his voice softer than usual. "you know," he said, arms wrapped around her waist as she sat on top of him, "this is the most chill I’ve felt in weeks." his eyes were a little glassy, but his smile was genuine, more relaxed than she’d ever seen him. "It’s nice being away from everything… away from the pressure."

she nodded, her head slightly spinning from the effects. the room felt warmer, the air thicker, and rafe’s presence seemed to fill the space between them in a way that felt new. he shifted, his chest brushing against her back, and neither of them pulled away. It felt like a small moment of intimacy, unspoken yet undeniable.

"yeah," she replied, her voice quieter now, "it’s nice not to think about all the things we’re supposed to be worrying about."

"I wonder, do you ever worry about me? think about me at night?" his tone was teasing, but there was something more behind it, something she could feel but couldn’t quite place. It was an invitation, but also something more—like a question she wasn’t sure how to answer. "so much goes on behind those pretty eyes."

y/n felt her heart beat a little faster as she considered it. part of her wanted to stay upright on his lap, maintain the little distance they had been keeping, but something about rafe’s tone, the way his eyes held hers, made her hesitate. she wanted to trust this moment, to let it unfold without overthinking it. she melted into his touch, resting her head in the crook of his neck, thighs pressed together. "I do."

rafe shifted to make room as he breathed in the scent of vanilla, the bed soft beneath him. the air between them was electric now, charged with a tension that neither of them seemed willing to break. the movie was still playing, but neither of them were paying attention to it anymore. they were closer now, the space between them reduced to nothing and for the first time in a long time she wasn't sure of something, she wasn’t sure if she was just feeling the effects of the weed or something more.

rafe leaned back against the pillows, his arms still wrapped around her body. "we don’t have to watch the movie," he said, his voice almost too smooth, like he was testing the waters. his eyes didn’t leave hers, his gaze intent and heavy, and in that moment, the world outside her room seemed to disappear.

y/n’s breath caught in her throat as the tension between them grew. every inch of her body was acutely aware of him, the way his presence felt so overwhelming, so magnetic. she had always seen rafe as someone distant, someone who belonged to a world she could never quite fit into. but now, with the smoke being blown in her face, taken in by slightly parted lips, she felt like they were on the same level.

she opened her mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she just looked at him, her pulse racing as her mind swirled in the haze of the night.

"I wanna touch you."

rafe's breath fell heavy on her ear, sending a slight chill down her spine. her breath hitched, and there was that same flutter in her stomach. she didn't exactly have any experience in things like this but she wasn't entirely clueless, but never dealt with it hands on.

but rafe? he was a fucking sex symbol. several girls would literally leave notes in his locker with their address begging him to fuck them. but he would only rack up two bodies, or so it's said.

both of those girls transferred schools due to death threats.

but y/n doesn't understand why he would choose her.

"touch, me?" her voice was soft, but not afraid. infact, she was more relaxed than ever. "I wanna make you feel good, you're gonna be the fucking death of me. so innocent you don't even notice how you're straddling me, do you?" y/n took notice of how firmly planted on his thigh she was, no longer fully in his lap. "um, well.." rafe placed his hands on her hips, slowly guiding her back and forth. a jolt of pleasure shooting through her body, "rafey." a mewl creept from her lips, rafe was fucking aching in his sweats at this point. hair sticking to his forehead, lips parted slightly. "shit, you want me to stop? just give me the word i'll stop." he halts his movements, earning a disappointed whine.

"I don't want you to stop."

rafe curses under his breath, he slides her onto his lap and grinds his hips up into her, letting out a low groan. "you're a needy girl aren't you? so stressed and pent up. you can let go, I got you." rafe coo'd into her ear, placing soft kisses on her shoulders and moving to her neck, biting and sucking, hands rubbing all over her body, palming her boobs through her top, fingers brushing over her nipples.

rafe turns her head twords him, pressing their lips together. a mix of cherry lipgloss and orange fanta settling on his tongue. the kiss is sloppy and heated, the air in the room is thick as the movie in the background gets drowned out by moans and heavy breaths.

"such a sweet girl, you know that? all the shit you do for me? you deserve a fucking trophy." rafe showers her with praise has he goes back to kissing her neck, hands never leaving her body as she caught the rhythm on her own.

her brain was foggy with pleasure, lips parted but could't respond with anything but moans and "mhm's." rafe plays with the hem of her pajama pants, "can I?" she nods, "words, baby I need to hear you say it."

y/n, almost frustrated lets out a defeated sigh. "yes, but.." she hesitates. "can you take your shirt off?" she says quietly, as if she wasn't already in such a vulnerable state.

rafe chuckles at the sudden request, but does as she says. he pulls his black shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor. y/n does the same. rafe is practically drooling at the sight of the pink lacy bra. his hands cup her breasts through the fabric, she arches her back against his chest. he slides his hand into her pants, glancing down to see that her underwear matched her bra. "so fucking cute."

he rubs her through the fabric, dampness seeping through the material. he teases her with long strides and rubs circles around her clit. he slips his hand into her underwear, almost moaning at the slick. y/n bites her swollen lip in an attempt to save her embarrassment.

"I want you to watch me."

her eyes slowly moved down to rafes hand in her pants, her face heated with embarrassment as she watched rafe's forearm and wrist flexed as he worked her clit, finger teasing her entrance. "I need you to relax, open your legs for me." rafe slowly parted her thighs with his free hand. "good fucking girl, so obedient." he kisses her cheek as he slides a digit into her sopping cunt. she inhales sharply, her head is thrown over his shoulder and her nails dig slightly into his arms.

"shit, just sucking me in. if I didn't know any better i'd think you were a slut." rafe's teasing manner never seemed to stop, he was two fingers, knuckle deep, in his supposed to be tutor. the only thing they were studying were eachothers body movements.

he found a steady pace working his fingers in and out of her, her moans becoming more high pitched, rafe could tell she was close. her hips bucked up into his hand, an unfamiliar knot forming in her stomach.

"rafey— 'm gonna— fuck!"

rafe was in genuine disbelief, not only did he cum in his pants but this was the first time he had ever heard you swear, tonight was a lot of firsts. the girl that he had been crushing on for weeks was about to cum on his fingers, moaning his name. he was never letting her go after this.

almost like it was on cue, y/n's orgasm hit like a truck. her entire body was shaking and she swore she saw starts. on top of that, rafe was still working his fingers in and out of her riding out her orgasm. she swatted his hands away and he took his hand out of her pants, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and licking them clean. she falls off of his lap onto the cool comforter beside him, chest heaving. he lays beside her and wraps his arms around her waist.

"want me to go run a bath, sweetheart?" he kisses the nape of her neck and cages her in. "'n a minute, just stay here for a second."

"didn't plan on leaving." ౨ৎ

[andreadarcyart]

Up close look at both Cassidy and Delia:

Challengers but make it Hanamusa with some Yamushipping. I thought this fit them really well (I genuinely just wanted to draw them in tennis outfits fighting over Jessie 😂 I have an outfit I want to draw Jessie in too, if I ever find the time to get it done) and I have a few more ideas for this tennis AU, so fingers crossed I’ll get them drawn once things have settled down at work 🤞

I’m also advocating for a 🍉 family, their last two fundraisers resulted in their PayPal accounts being blocked by PayPal, so I'm organising on behalf of them with their permission and transferring the money raised to them through the bank (This is me being completely transparent for anyone that is uncomfortable, if you are, please do not donate, I will completely understand). (The money that was originally raised isn't lost, PayPal is holding on to it, but they can't fight to get it back in their current conditions since they're moving a lot and WiFi is unstable at the best of times. So if you donated before, do not worry, they'll be able to use that money to rebuild once they've evacuated to a safe place). I’m currently not open for commissions because I’m burnout from the last lot I’ve had to do (it’s the exact reason I don’t do commissions, but this is an emergency), but I am raffling off the Across the Spiderverse Artbook (never used, might as well be brand new) to anyone that donates at least €10. Also, if we manage to get to €7k I’ll draw James and Jessie in all of Barbie and Ken’s outfits from the live action Barbie movie (James will be dressed as Barbie and Jessie as Ken).

[reyalvr]

SHE'S MINE | 01

I'M ALL IN, I CAN'T REVERSE IT-

synopsis ┊ thrust into the spotlight, ken sato had easily become the next big thing tokyo had seen in decades. alongside his fame came the inevitable string of rumors, of which sprung forth scandals and discrediting information against his image. of course the obvious and most rational solution would be to address them like every other celebrity, but this was ken sato; nothing would ever be rational with him, which is how you wound up with a ring on your finger and the sato name in your papers. 

genre ┊ fake dating, fake marriage, idiots-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, slight angst, chaotic fluff, mild smut

pairing ┊ ken sato x fem-PA!reader, ken sato x fake-wife!reader

warnings ┊ mild cursing, eventual smut, mentions of alcohol, all events in ultraman: rising take place a year after kenji moves back to japan

word count ┊  3.2k

author’s note ┊ WOOHOO part one finally out! thank you so much for all the love on the prologue, it made me so motivated to make this as good as possible hehe >.< each chapter title is based off of a lyric in my writing playlist for this series, lmk if you guys would like me to drop it  ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶. happy reading!

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KEN KNEW HE WAS IN DEEP SHIT. Knee deep, even. If you asked him what was going through his head thirty seconds ago, he wouldn’t be able to tell you even if he wanted to. Everything that happened next was a blur- from shaking hands with the host to walking back to his dressing room, it felt like he was operating on autopilot. Who wouldn’t be, though? He had just announced to the world that he was officially taken; that he was off the market- hooked. Of course, it wouldn’t have been a problem if it were true…

But it wasn’t. 

He had just lied to an audience of a hundred people- not to mention the millions throughout the various streaming platforms the show was being aired on. His nails dug into his palm as he neared his dressing room, the bold, black letters of his name growing larger and larger each step he took. His heart was pounding, and he swore he felt chill down his spine the moment he opened the door. No one could blame him though, not if they knew the inevitable wrath they were about to face. 

You were stood there, eyes narrowed and resting all your weight on your hip. Your arms were crossed, your lips were pursed. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other as you waited for the other to speak up. Ken swallowed nervously, tapping his foot as he tried formulating an explanation. He wasn’t entirely sure as to why he was so overstrung, it was just you. Why should he be terrified of your scolding on his recent screw up? 

“Special someone, huh?” You said through your teeth, finally breaking the tense silence in the room. “So special that nobody on your team knew of her prior to your public love confession?” 

Ah. That was why. The way you were able to see right through him scared him sometimes. He never outwardly showed his reactions, though- at least he tried not to. He cleared his throat before finally moving to plop down on the couch, doing his damndest not to show his jitters. 

“Yeah, yeah whatever. I lied, so what?” He replied, his cocky tone masking the unsureness in his words. “It’s not the first time I’ve done it.” 

Strike one. As if you couldn’t have been any more pissed off, that seemed to be the tipping point. You paused before letting out a deep breath, circling around him. He closed his eyes when he knew you were behind him, and he waited for you to berate him; to remind him of the consequences of his actions. He waited, but it never came. He opened one eye, and he relaxed when you moved to sit on the opposite couch. He was spared… for now.

“What, no scolding?” He decided to test, tilting his head to the side as he watched you. 

You only let out a small laugh, and somehow that was worse than any scolding he’d ever received from you. You were oddly calm, like all your anger had just melted away. Leaning forward, you slid an enclosed piece of paper across the table towards him. 

“Can you guess what this is, Ken?” You ask, your eyes finally looking back up to meet his. 

Ken knew not to answer. He was ready to spit out some witty reply, but the look in your eyes told him that this was going to go down another route; one that he definitely didn’t want to aggravate. 

“It’s my resignation letter.” You say nonchalantly, causing him to straighten up once more. “I keep it handy.”

Resignation letter? Was this real? Were you actually going to quit over this? He opened his mouth to speak up but quickly shut it when you maintained your soul-searching gaze. He tried to relax, yet the furrow in his eyebrows seemed to stay as you continued on. 

“I’m going to be very clear on what’s going to happen next, Ken.” You say, resting your arms on your knees. “This will be the last time I help you clear up a mishap. After everything is settled, I’m gone.” 

Gone. His eyes widened slightly, the palms of his hands starting to get clammy. He let out a light, nervous laugh, looking at you as if you had just said something absurd. Which, in his defense, you sort of did. Again, he had no idea why this news was so shocking to him, seeing as you’d only worked under him for a year and a half. Surely he couldn’t have been that terrible, right? He stared at the folded paper in front of him before speaking up.

“What, uh, what do you mean gone?” He asked through a breathy laugh. “Gone like a break or something? I’m happy to give you one-”

“Gone as in I quit.” You cut him off, standing up as you adjusted the sleeves of your shirt. “Like I said, this is the last time I clean up your mess, Ken Sato.” 

You moved to walk away, but he quickly caught your arm. “Woah, hold on a sec,” He stood up, looking down at you with stunned eyes. “Quit? C’mon, [Y/N] I know I screwed up but you can’t just leave me hanging like this-” 

You scoffed at him then, yanking your arm out of his grasp. “Oh I can’t leave you hanging, huh? Tell me, Ken, how many times have I saved your ass in the last eighteen months I’ve been working for you, hm?”

He swallowed dryly as he tried to recall. He was used to having his name on headlines, most especially after his move last year. He couldn’t go five seconds without seeing his ads pop up on his platforms, hell he couldn’t even go five blocks without seeing a billboard with his face on it. Which all brought him back to one thing: not one negative scandal under his name. With you, he was perfect; jack of all trades in the MLB and the internet’s favorite spokesperson. 

Shit. Strike two. 

You only hummed in response once you read over his expression. “Exactly. So the next time you even think about downplaying my job, remember how I was the reason for your recent success.”

Ken was at a loss for words. Rarely was he ever left speechless, he always seemed to have a response ready for anything. But now was definitely not one of those times. He watched as you bent down to retrieve that dreaded letter, and you shoved it into his chest before moving to finally walk past him. 

“Our flight leaves tomorrow at five a.m, I'll see you in the lobby at three.” You say, not so much as sparing him a glance as you fixed your bag. 

He managed to let out a quiet ‘okay’, gripping onto your letter tightly as he watched you pack up. Damn Ken, you really did it this time, didn’t you? He thought to himself, wondering how- or rather, if he would be able to make things right with you. For the first time in his career, he was thinking about someone else other than himself. 

“Oh and Ken,” You say, breaking him out of his dazed stance. 

“Hm?” He hummed out, averting his gaze to be level with yours. 

“You had better pray that the next assistant you get is half as good as I am.” You said before closing the door, leaving him alone in his dressing room. All of a sudden it felt… quiet. Too quiet. He sighed, dropping down on the couch once more before closing his eyes and masking his face with his hands.

Strike three. 

THE TENSION IN THE CAR WAS PAINSTAKINGLY PALPABLE. Ken’s leg bounced as the two of you were stuck in airport traffic, the car unmoving for nearly half an hour now. Your occasional sighs and the hum of the car’s engine were the only sounds filling the air. He felt like he was going crazy. He hadn’t been able to sleep properly the night before thanks to your bombshell of an announcement. In comparison, though, he probably shouldn’t be complaining about bombshells when he himself dropped one twice the size of yours. 

Still, he was restless. You hadn’t uttered a single word to him since landing back in Tokyo, and the unwanted solitude was driving him nuts. He glanced over at you through his shades, noting the way you were impatiently tapping your fingers against the wheel. Obviously you were still pissed at his little stunt, and the articles following the incident didn’t aid in calming your anger. 

He knew it wasn’t smart, but he needed to talk to you. The sea of red lights in front of him remained stagnant, and he didn’t want to spend another minute in this deafening quietude. He gnawed at his bottom lip before finally breaking the silence. 

“Can we talk?” He said, looking over at you. 

“No.” You replied bluntly.

“[Y/N]-” He started, but one glance from you was enough to shut him up. 

“I am doing you a huge favor by helping you solve the mess you created.” You said as you looked back at the road ahead of you, lifting your fingers and circling your thumbs around the wheel. “I could’ve left right then and there, leaving you to deal with this on your own. But I didn’t, I don’t know why, but I didn’t.”

You looked back up at him, and only now did he notice the circles under your eyes and the paleness of your complexion. Something inside him twisted; he couldn’t tell if it was guilt or regret. Guilt, probably, for having to rely on you to correct his mistakes, and regret for even causing this whole debacle in the first place. 

“The least I’m asking from you is your compliance.” You say tiredly, the glint in your eyes doing most of the talking. 

“Yeah, okay. Sorry.” He managed to get out, leaning back into the passenger seat. 

And just like that, the dreaded silence was back. By some miracle the traffic started to gain some speed, the taillights of the cars ahead of him dispersing onto the road. His head hit the back of the headrest, and he sat through the entire ride back to the Tokyo Dome contemplating his recent choices. 

It was only when you knocked on the window of the passenger side when he realized he had finally reached his destination. He got out, stretching his limbs after being cramped inside the car for so long. He threw on his jacket lazily, not even bothering to zip it up. He went to put on his cap, but then he noticed something odd. 

It was quiet outside the building, the bristle of the trees and the nearby roads the only sound filling his ears. There was something lacking; the neverending shuttering sounds of cameras and eager voices yelling at him to look or to say something. He realized then the lack of paparazzi and reporters outside to greet him, just like they usually did whenever he came back from a trip. His head turned, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked around. Not a single one in sight.

“‘Something wrong?” You asked as you walked past him to swipe your ID into the security system. 

“It’s just,” He said, still looking around in confusion. He let out an airy laugh as he followed you inside, the expression on his face remaining the same. “There’s no paps or anything.”

At that you laugh, albeit sarcastically, waiting for him to get into the elevator. “You know that might be the first time I’ve ever heard a famous person complain about not being bombarded by ill-intent people.” 

“I’m not complaining, trust me.” He says, putting his hands up halfway in defense. “It’s weird. That’s all.” 

“Well that’s what happens when people think you’re spending time with your special someone after being away for so long.” You say, pulling up a press announcement on your phone. 

For a split second, Kenji had completely forgotten that he had to keep up the fact that he supposedly had a significant other waiting for him at home. He let out an ‘ah’, sliding his hands into his pockets as the elevator went up. Again his heart panged, finally realizing why your eyebags were deeper than they usually were. While he may have had discomfort in his slumber, it didn’t compare to the hours you were up trying to get everything settled here.

You held the door open to your office, letting him in first. Once the lights were on, he was greeted with your infamous whiteboard, different scribbles of colorful ink filling up the space corner to corner. He cringed at the bolded date of the talk show he was on. 

“Your bags will be sent here in the next hour, and valet has your bike ready.” You say, doing the usual routine you did whenever the both of you came back from work trips. He sat down on the sofa, nodding each time you reminded him of something. 

“Now, about the issue,” You walk over to the whiteboard, erasing its contents. “We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” 

He choked on nothing, not surprised by the news but surprised by the continued bluntness of your tone. “I beg your pardon?”

“We need to find you a fake girlfriend.” You repeated, emphasizing the words obnoxiously. 

“Yeah I get that,” He finally replied, a look of uncertainty splashing his features. “But you’re making it sound like all we need to do is shop around.”

“Well unless you can give me a face, let alone a name to your special someone, this is the plan we have.” You retort, resting a hand at your hip as the other points at the board. 

“Why can’t I just be one of those celebrities who keep their relationship private?” He questions genuinely. 

“Oh I’m sorry, who was the one who announced that they were in love on live television?” You remind him, annoyance laced in your words. 

He bites back any sort of sarcastic remark that conjures up in the back of his head. You were right, obviously you were right. But some part of him felt it was… unfair to not have a say in this. Stupid, yes, but it’s how he felt.

“Can I continue or is there anything else you want to unnecessarily add?” You ask, looking at him with an eyebrow raised. 

He only lifted a hand, signaling for you to carry on. You go on to explain that whoever ends up “dating” him will need to have to go through a contract signing, NDA included. You draw up charts on your board, showing him the possible stats of his ratings if he’ll be able to pull this off. 

“Your next playoff season is about to start, I suggest we get all this settled by then.” You scroll on your smartwatch, looking at the calendar. “It gives me two weeks to plan everything out. I need you here tomorrow bright and early so that we can go through a list of potential candidates.”

“Candidates? What is this, speed-dating?” He says, making a face at all the analytical parts of your plan. 

“No, it’s a game called ‘save-my-reputation.’” You answer snarkily, narrowing your eyes slightly at him. 

He takes in a deep breath, starting to get annoyed with your remarks. He knew he had no right to, but to think that you were just dictating away at his choices made him feel like some sort of plaything. 

“I just don’t understand why we even need to find a ‘girlfriend’ in the first place.” He massages the back of his head before crossing his arms. “I mean everyone thinks I’ve successfully hidden my love life up until now, what’s the point of going all out?”

He could see you clench your fingers around the marker, and he knew he was close to reaching your tipping once more. All in the span of twenty-four hours. You pinched the bridge of your nose before you spoke up.

“Ken. You told the world that you were in love.” You say in an eerily calm tone. “You got yourself into this mess, now you have to get yourself out of it. And unless you want to say goodbye to your stardom, this is what you need to do.” 

He opened his mouth to speak up but was cut off by your phone’s ringing. You answered, spewing out a quick and formal ‘thank you’ to whoever was on the other line. You sighed, placing your marker back down on your desk before you walked past him towards the glass door. 

“Your bags are here.” You say, opening the door. “Your bike’s parked outside and everything should be good to go.” 

Your demeanor had changed in a split second, going from PR manager to assistant in the blink of an eye. At times Ken wondered how you were able to juggle everything. It wasn’t the main thing that was on his mind, he had… other, more serious things to worry about. Like the other secret he had kept from you all this time; Ultraman. He shook his head, trying not to focus on his double life on top of the situation he was in. 

Ken knew that your words were a sign to get up and get out, and he did just that. You followed him all the way back down to the lobby of the stadium, handing him his duffel bag and walking him to his bike. Despite your earlier mood, you did your checks on his motorbike that he had grown accustomed to after a while. 

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” You remind him, crossing your arms as he got on his bike. “Please.”

“Tomorrow, bright and early.” He repeats through a huff, slinging his bag into the compartment attached to the back of his motorbike. “Got it.” 

You only hummed in response, turning away to walk back into the stadium. He didn’t know what it was that came over him, but before he knew it he was grabbing your arm softly once more. Your head spun around to look at him, more of your stray hairs spilling out of your updo. At this angle the sunset brought out the shininess of your eyes, the early evening shadows accentuating your features. 

He swallowed before he continued. “You know for what it’s worth, I really am sorry.” 

Instead of another curt response, though, you sighed as you pressed your lips together. He lets go of your arm then, not wanting to invade anymore of your personal space than he already has. He can see you poke your tongue into your cheek, a habit you did when you were in contemplation. 

“Well,” You finally breathe out, your expression relaxing. “If you’re actually as sorry as you say you are, you’ll do as I say.” 

“‘Course.” He says before his face gets obscured by his helmet. He nods towards your direction once more before finally revving the engine. 

Only time will tell what the outcome is, but whatever it is, he hopes he ends up in the one where you don’t loathe his very being. 

reyalvr © 2024 … do not repost, alter, or steal my work.

tags┊@mochminnie, @rreasonablydumbb, @sincerest-one, @fruticake, @lunaryasha, @lovingyeet, @sugacor3, @arrozyfrijoles23, @fennecspage, @mmeerraa, @azryaa, @akiradailylifes, @montybooks, @mmv-ymvm, @hore4ken, @greeniegreengreen, @meikoo, @random-3455, @todaywasafairytale07, @mythicalmoa, @imafangirlofeverything, @astylos, @vynwan-cbq, @rosegiyanabing, @icedberrytea, @ken-zah, @letharue, @chi222, @flooftoof, @c4ttheart, @ymrai, @stxrrielle, @alpha-mommy69, @ewitscat, @lightsinmycity, @furblrwurblr, @ayamago, @sugururawr, @secretlyapartofthisfandom @shellspider, @oh-kurva, @noraimp

[minisugakoobies]

Cross My Heart | KMG

Pairing: Mingyu x GNReader (afab)

Genre: smut, porn with the barest of plot, friends to lovers (?), non-idol!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: pussy drunk mingyu, late night texting, biting/marking, fingering, lots of flirting, lots of teasing, grinding/dry humping, dirty talk, cunnilingus, face sitting, come eating, hand job, mingyu's a messy boy, OC is needy and mingyu loves it, mingyu has maybe the tiniest bit of a praise kink, use of pet names - pretty, mingyu requests death by pussy

Word Count: 5.2k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Your crush Mingyu wants (to eat) you.

Text Prompt: You: I can’t stand you Mingyu: Then sit on my face

A/N: Hiiiii I'm writing for svt now and I'm starting with Mingyu because he's driving me insane. This is actually the first in a planned series of 13 svt fics based on text prompts. I'm fully in my self-indulgent era, so this is for everyone who, like me, needs some munch 'Gyu right about now 👅

Unbeta'd as usual. If you like this and want more svt fics from me, please let me know! I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

It’s finally here. After months of planning, you and your friends have flown halfway around the world for a week of vacation. The six of you arrived just a few hours ago, and after the long flight, the long wait at the airport for your luggage, and the long drive to the hotel, you’re exhausted. 

Well, mentally you’re worn out, at least. Your body? Is still on your old timezone, where it’s currently tomorrow morning. So it thinks that you need to be awake, even though it’s night where you are. You had stayed awake the entire flight here in order to avoid this very problem. 

Fucking jet lag got you anyway.

Unlike you, Seungcheol and Vernon are having no issue sleeping. The three of you are sharing one room, while Minghao, Wonwoo, and Mingyu are sharing another. You glance over at the two lumps tucked in their beds, snoring away like you would be if your body wasn’t so confused.

Because you’re trying to be a good friend and let them sleep, you’re lying on your bed, scrolling lazily through your various social media apps. You could watch something, but you don’t really have the focus right now. Yet you want something pleasing to look at. Something to mindlessly enjoy while you wait for exhaustion to overwhelm you. 

So, naturally, you turn to your favorite nightly pastime - scrolling through your social media apps, looking for any new posts from Mingyu.

It’s an addiction, borne out of your raging crush on your friend. Well, really, he’s Minghao’s friend, you don’t know him as well as you do the others, but still. You’re friendly enough around each other. Which is because Mingyu is so nice, such a sweet and funny guy who always makes you feel more than welcome whenever he’s around. 

He’s also a blatant flirt. At first, his cocky smiles and playful words made you think he might be interested in more than just being your friend, but it wasn’t long before you realized he’s like that with everyone. So you tamped down the hope that burned in your chest, leaving only a simmering crush to smolder forever.

It’s morning back home, where most of your friends have barely started their days, so your feed is fairly dead. There are a few photos from Wonwoo from the flight, including one of Minghao sleeping with his mouth open that you immediately save to your favorites, a couple from Vernon, and, of course, several from Mingyu. You tap into his page.

Mingyu’s an avid photographer, particularly of beautiful things - breathtaking landscapes, delicious meals, himself. Mostly himself, to be honest. Not that you’re complaining. It’s maybe the most mutually beneficial relationship you’ve ever been in. Mingyu loves to provide pictures of himself. You love to admire them. A win-win all around. 

You tap back to home and refresh your feed. A new post appears, from Mingyu. The jet lag must be getting to him, too, if he’s awake and posting right now. The photo is another selfie, this time of him lying in bed, one arm resting behind his head, showing off a perfectly sculpted bicep. God. Could he be more gorgeous? 

Clicking into his page again, you rub your thumb over the screen to make his photos flip by in an endless parade of hot Mingyus. It’s ridiculous, you muse, watching picture after picture roll by, to think about how much time Mingyu must spend on these photos. Making sure he’s got the perfect lighting to bounce off his muscles just right in those gym selfies. Or figuring out the best angle to show off that sharp jawline of his. Just ridiculous. And yet, every second isn’t spent in vain, considering how the photos drew you in like shiny trinkets to your magpie eye. 

It would be so easy to think of Mingyu as a modern day Narcissus, endlessly snapping selfies, drowning in his own reflection on his phone. But he’s never struck you as conceited. It’s something else - a desire for connection, perhaps. A need for-

A tiny heart floats up your screen and you gasp. Shit. You just liked the post the scroll stopped on - one of his many gym selfies, frame zoomed in on his torso, his hand clutching the bottom of his shirt to show off his rippling abs.

Your eye drifts to the date of the photo. Posted eight months ago. 

Quick as lightning, you hit the screen again, shattering the little heart icon. Your pulse is beating too fast. There’s no need to panic. He couldn’t have seen that. Maybe you’re overreacting, but no one needs to know you’re lurking in his profile in the middle of the night, especially not him. 

A notification drops down over Mingyu’s face. A message.

Mingyu: Someone’s up late. 

Ah, damn. You were too slow. And now he’s in your DMs. 

After taking a moment to shriek quietly into your pillow, you write back. 

You: Can’t sleep

Mingyu: Same. Jet lag’s got me fucked up

Mingyu: You know what always helps when I can’t sleep?

You: What?

Mingyu: Creeping through someone’s old photos

Even though he’s not here looking at you, your neck flames with embarrassment anyway. You could play it cool. If only you knew how to do that. 

You: Shut up

Mingyu: It’s ok, I’m flattered

You: Oh fuck off

Mingyu: No really, I am

Mingyu: I like that you want me so bad

Pressing your mouth firmly into your pillow, you swallow another screech. Here we go. Right into the flirting. You can’t handle this right now.

You: Idk what you’re talking about

You:  It was an accident

Mingyu: Oh you were accidentally admiring me? 

You: How did you even notice? Are you just staring at your phone, waiting for attention?

Mingyu: I mean yeah

You snort. 

You: You’re ridiculous

Mingyu: Maybe. But I’m honest about it

You: I’ll give you that

A few seconds go by, then a minute, then two. Maybe you’re boring him. Maybe he’s found something else to entertain him. Or someone else.

When the next notification comes in, you jolt a little. 

Mingyu: What else will you give me?

And now your heart does a funny jump as you stare at his words. God, what a question. How you wish he were asking for real, and not just being playful, like he always is. 

Would it be too real to reply with the truth? “Whatever you want?”

You: I don’t know

You: What do you want?

Mingyu: What if I say you?

Suddenly you don’t understand words.

You: Why would you say that?

Mingyu: Because it’s my answer

Mingyu: I’m being honest again

You: That’s the jet lag talking

Mingyu: Oh come on

Mingyu: You really don’t know?

You: Know what??

Mingyu: How I feel about you

Is he being serious right now??

You: If this is a joke I don’t get it

Mingyu: Not a joke

Mingyu: Hold on

The notification icon on your app suddenly lights up. One heart. Two. Three four five. You open your notifications and immediately start laughing. Mingyu’s going through your oldest photos and liking them, one by one. 

Mingyu: See? I’m obsessed with you

Seungcheol grunts in his sleep, and you press your arm harder over your mouth, trying to muffle yourself better.

You: You’re so annoying, oh my god

Mingyu: So annoying that you can’t stop looking at my photos at 1 am?

Mingyu: Or flirting with me?

You: Is that what’s happening? Are we flirting?

Mingyu: Ok don’t act like you don’t know

Mingyu: I flirt with you all the time

You: You flirt with EVERYONE all the time

Mingyu: Yeah but I only mean it with you

Like any other time this happens, any time his words make your head spin, you put on the brakes, stopping before you start to believe you might have a chance. 

You: You’re so dumb

Mingyu: Are you really going to pretend you’re not enjoying this?

You: Who said I’m pretending?

Mingyu: Me. I know you’re loving this

Mingyu: Because you want me soooooo bad

You: Shut uppppp

Mingyu: Go on, yell at me

Mingyu: You’re cute when you’re mad

You: No really

You: I can’t stand you

Mingyu: Then sit on my face

Your mouth falls open, an amused huff of air escaping in a befuddled laugh at his unexpected response. 

You: What?

Mingyu: Come shut me up. Sit on my face.

You’re blinking so hard, you can hear your eyelids clapping together.

You: Fuck off. Stop playing. 

Mingyu: Who’s playing? I’m serious

Mingyu: Smother me with those gorgeous thighs of yours. I’ll go out a happy man. 

Your gorgeous thighs? He’s never said anything like that before. What the fuck is happening.

You can’t help but picture it - him lying on his bed, you kneeling over him, fingers tangled in his dark hair as you ride that pouty little mouth of his. It’s not the first time you’ve fantasized about it, but it’s the first time the vision has felt… possible. 

Mingyu: No response? You’re just gonna leave me hanging like this?

You: Don’t tease me

Mingyu: Trust me, there are a million ways I’d love to tease you, but this isn’t one

You lay down again, rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself, like you’re trying to contain all the excitement rushing through your veins, keep it from spilling out and over into the room where your friends are still sleeping.  

You: You’re really serious?

Mingyu: Cross my heart and hope to die

Mingyu: Between your legs

Again you laugh.

You: You’re such an idiot

Mingyu: Does that mean you’re not coming over?

You: Like right now??

Mingyu: Why not? 

Mingyu: Wonwoo and Minghao both slept on the plane. They went out exploring

Mingyu: I’ve got the room to myself

You bite your lip, a little harder than you normally would, the sharp sting confirming that you are not dreaming and this is, in actual fact, happening right now. 

You: I guess if I’m not sleeping anytime soon

In the dim light from your phone, you eye the path to the door. You can easily make it out of the room without waking anyone. Should you so decide. 

You: I could come over

Mingyu: I promise I’ll make it so good for you

Mingyu: Eat that pussy like you deserve. Make you cum on my tongue over and over

You inhale sharply. He’s definitely never talked about your pussy like that before. Reading his words has you positively throbbing.

Mingyu: Please, just let me taste you

What else is there to say to that but -  

You: I’m coming over

It’s a short walk to Mingyu’s room. A rush of anticipation hits you as you raise your hand to knock. It doesn’t take long for the door to open, bringing you face to face with the man whose social media you can’t stop stalking. Mingyu’s shirtless, grey sweatpants hanging alarmingly low on his hips, and if you weren’t already planning on crushing him with your thighs, this insta thirst trap of an outfit would push you right over the edge. 

“That was fast,” he laughs, stepping aside to let you in. “Did you run down the hall?” 

“I thought I told you to shut up,” you shoot back. 

“And I thought I told you to make me,” he smirks, reaching for you at the same time you reach for him, practically mashing his teeth against your lips as he pulls you in for a kiss. Despite what he just said, he’s kissing you, too eager to wait for you to do what he demands. 

It’s rough and messy, all teeth and tongue, both of you doing your fair share to keep the other silent. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say speechless, because Mingyu’s definitely not being quiet, moaning into your mouth, and you’re certainly whining loud enough for the other rooms to hear you.

He presses you back into the door, chest to chest, hip to hip. You tilt your head and he follows, chasing your mouth, as if he’s needing another taste. Your hands roam over his biceps, his shoulders, his neck, covering every inch of warm skin that’s exposed, and he slips his arms around your waist, holding you impossibly tight. Not for one second do your lips part. This is the type of kiss you’ve always read about in your favorite stories - the one that makes your knees weak, makes your head float, makes you forget everything but Mingyu. 

It’s delicious. It’s amazing. It’s every superlative you can think of. But it’s not enough. You want more. Part of you wants to tell him to get on with it, take you to bed, because you’re here to make him eat his words by eating you, but the other part isn’t about to quit kissing him any time soon. 

Thankfully, Mingyu takes care of your dilemma by eliminating the choice. Without warning, he bends his knees and lifts you, big hands secure on your thighs to hold you close to him. Okay, now it’s like one of your stories, the way he lifts you like you’re lighter than air. You’d swoon if you weren’t so busy licking into his lips. All that time in the gym is really paying off

He carries you to his bed, displaying his impressive thigh strength by slowly lowering himself into a sitting position, bringing you into his lap. You loop your arms around his shoulders, desperately seeking his mouth, as if the 0.2 seconds between kisses might kill you, which, honestly, it feels like it might, and you’ve never been in this situation before, making out with the man of your dreams, so for all you know, it will, so why risk it? 

“Stop me if I’m going too fast,” he says between kisses. 

“You can go as fast as you want,” you reply, without even a second’s pause. “Just don’t stop.” 

“Damn, and here I was worried I was coming off too excited,” he grins, face lighting up in delight. Then he kisses your cheek, whispering against your skin at your offended huff. “It’s okay, I like how needy you are for me.”

“Shut up,” you groan, but you know he felt the way you shuddered, so you give up the weak protests and start kissing him again, twisting your fingers in his hair to keep him close. 

Mingyu finally stops laughing when you take his bottom lip between your own, sucking and licking at the plump skin. With a groan, he digs his fingers into your sides, and he starts to guide you back and forth, rolling you over the eye-catching bulge in his sweatpants. It’s a sight that makes you clench, thinking about how much you want to sit on it now, just pull him out and ride, too needy to feel him inside you to even take your clothes off.

But again, you want more. You want what he’d promised earlier.  

He nips his way down your throat until his mouth latches at the base of your neck, sucking and biting, and you whimper, squirming in his hold. “

‘Gyu, please!”

“Please what?” 

He doesn’t lift his head, too absorbed in sinking his vampire-like canines into your soft skin, not sharp enough to pierce, just hard enough that you know you’ll have bruises blooming there tomorrow, little souvenirs of this moment. 

Please everything, you think. You want it all, whatever he’s willing to give, you’ll take. You’re feeling greedy as fuck right now. 

“I want what you promised me.” 

“Hold on,” he intones seriously, right before laving his tongue over a fresh mark. “Let a man at death’s door enjoy his last moments.” 

“Oh my god, you’re so stupid,” you groan, grabbing his face and smashing your lips together. He’s just - just such an idiot, such a stupid sexy idiot and you want him more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your life.

“Fine,” he says after a few minutes of frantic making out, a cheeky grin spreading across his face, hands circling around your ass, squeezing as he pulls you closer. “Time for my last meal.” 

He kisses away your embarrassingly pleased moan, and then he maneuvers the two of you around so he’s lying on the bed on his back and you’re straddling him. As he watches with rapt attention, you peel off your shirt. Since you’d been dressed for bed, you hadn’t bothered to throw on a bra. Judging from Mingyu’s expression, you made the right call.  

“Pretty,” he breathes out, wide eyes finding yours, and you have to take a beat, have to take a moment to sit and let the reality of the situation wash over you. The two of you are here, together, in this hotel room half a world away from home. Both wanting this. It’s clear to you now just how eager Mingyu’s been since you walked in. He wasn’t lying - he wants you just as much as you want him. 

With this new understanding, you stand up to slide your shorts and panties off in one go, before straddling him again, and lowering yourself for another kiss. Immediately, his arms are around you, gliding down your back, all the way to your bare ass, taking the biggest handfuls he can. 

“You drive me insane. So pretty, so hot.” 

Mingyu’s words kick the simmering heat in your gut into a full blown fire. You moan into his kiss, grinding yourself against him. One of his hands grips your side, helping you chase the friction, while the other slips between your bodies. When his fingers brush your inner thigh, he lets out a strangled groan. “Oh fuck, you’re so wet.”  

“Your fault,” you gasp, lips fervently pressing against his, licking at the seam of his mouth until he allows you in, so you can roll your tongue over his like you roll your hips. 

“Then allow me to make it up to you,” he grins, long fingers cupping your mound, trapping the heat there in his palm as he rubs it against you. You keen, thighs already twitching. You’re going to lose your mind before you even get to his face. 

You’re not alone in that feeling, as he suddenly reaches for your thighs, urging you to crawl up his body. “Get up here, please,” he begs, flat out begs you, and you slide forward as fast as you can. You need his mouth, right now.

Hovering over him is a little surreal - MIngyu’s big brown eyes are gazing up at you in a perfect replication of your favorite daydream, only it’s so much better than you’d ever imagined, because the expression he wears is one of complete awe, like he’s the one living out his fantasy. Again you feel bold, so you run your fingers through his hair, nails lightly scraping over his scalp. He moans quietly, low in his throat, like he’s trying to hold it in, and your mouth quirks in a half smile as you kneel. 

“Nice knowing you, ‘Gyu.” 

He hums a happy note, lips vibrating lightly just as your cunt reaches them, and you moan quietly. You don’t settle all the way down, because as much as you were playing along with this whole death-by-pussy dream of his, you are slightly worried that you might actually suffocate him, if not because of your weight than because of your dire need, that you might get too lost in the aching desire that’s building inside you, spurred on by the way he’s brushing the lower half of his face and down your folds, just breathing you in, teasing you with his touches but not giving you what you so desperately want. 

“‘Gyu,” you whine, tilting your pelvis forward, to catch his tongue as he traces your inner thigh, leaving a trail of saliva behind. He blows a puff of air across the wetness, sending goosebumps running at the cooling sensation. 

When you try to shift again, he’s quick to wrap his hands up around your hips, holding you still. Not hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to let you know - he’s in charge now. 

“Stay still, pretty,” he murmurs, tenderly pressing a kiss into your skin. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep my promise. Cross my heart, remember?” 

With that reminder, he pulls you down further onto his face. His tongue slides into you, nose bumping your clit, and you whimper, hands flailing at your sides, seeking something to cling to, finding nothing but the warm air around you. The pressure on the sensitive bud combining with the wet hot muscle plunging between your slick folds is overwhelming in the best way.

“‘Gyu, oh, that’s so good!”  

Mingyu nods his head vigorously, nudging his nose around, letting his tongue drag up and down your slit. It almost feels like he’s agreeing with you, backed up by the way he grunts brokenly, this deep rumble in his chest that gets strangled halfway through his throat. 

You’re not sure at what point you start thrust your hips. Mingyu helps you find the right pace, big hands guiding you forward and back, forward and back, until you feel the rhythm all the way from your ears to your toes. 

As his mouth slides up to suckle on your clit, his left hand also snakes upwards, cupping your right breast, thumb rolling over your puckered nipple. You shudder, nerves sizzling like power lines, lit up by his every touch.

“‘Gyu…” Mingyu’s mouth pulls another whine from you. You glance down, catching the furrow in his brow, the sweat dripping down his temples. “Oh my god.” 

“Mmmmphf,” Mingyu agrees, or so you assume, unable to understand anything he might be mumbling into you. A particularly sharp suck on your pulsating clit makes your back arch, and Mingyu’s hand falls from your chest, disappearing behind you. 

The sudden rustling of fabric draws your attention. You glance over your shoulder, only to whimper when you catch sight of Mingyu’s hand stroking his erection, band of his sweatpants hastily shoved down, stiff cock so flushed it brings a matching heat to your neck. 

If you were more limber, you’d reach for him, give him a helping hand, but you can’t stay twisted around for long, not when Mingyu’s tongue makes you refocus on his mouth. It’s too difficult to think about anything else right now but the way he keeps plunging inside you, using the thick muscle to fuck you shallowly. 

You can’t stop mewling like a cat in heat, rutting back and forth over Mingyu’s tongue. Even in your daze, it doesn’t escape your attention that Mingyu’s absolutely pussy drunk at this point, depraved moans buzzing endlessly against your most sensitive spots because he refuses to detach his mouth from you long enough to let them escape. Every muffled note reverberates deep in your core, joins the tense chord that’s building inside you to a crescendo. 

“‘Gyu, please.” 

At the sound of your plea, Mingyu stops stroking himself, bringing his hand around to find your clit, middle finger drawing circles around and around and around. 

When you double over, hands sinking into the plush bedding on either side of Mingyu’s head, he grunts, tipping his head to the side so he can speak. “You okay?” 

“Fuck, Mingyu, ‘m good,” you giggle, suddenly hit by a burst of glee, perhaps due to the lack of oxygen in your head, since all the blood in your body is concentrated in your clit right now. “I’m having an amazing night.” 

Mingyu hums again, sounding very pleased, and you meet his gaze, and suddenly you wish his phone was nearby, so you could snap a photo, because this look - hair mussed and clinging to his forehead, pupils blown, nose to chin coated in your glistening wetness - this is a look worth capturing.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, chest heaving as he catches his breath, and the sincerity in his voice steals your own away. If you had any nerve, you’d confess something right now, something you weren’t planning on telling him tonight or tomorrow or maybe ever. But you keep silent, only breathing a tiny exhale of surprise as he slides out from under you, and nudges you onto your back.

Mingyu folds you in half easily, because you’re giving no resistance, letting him shape you the way he desires, and then his mouth is on you again. Now that he's lying facedown between your legs, he’s able to get some much-desired friction without using his hands, grinding his neglected cock into the bed as he concentrates on you. 

His tongue glides over your throbbing nub again, and then his right hand ghosts over your slit. You whimper a soft “Please,” and that’s all he needs to slide his finger inside. The intrusion has you squirming, urging him silently to go deeper, and to your relief, he obliges. But he also locks his other arm over your legs, holding them so you can’t keep bucking your hips up. 

“I said, stay still,” he mumbles, with no anger or heat behind it, just amusement, laced with a slight tinge of cockiness. He knows he’s frustrating you, judging by the curl of his lips as he plunges his finger in and out slowly, way too slowly, teasing you with what you need most. You try to press your hips down onto his hand, to make him glide faster, but he just leans into you slightly, big arm stopping your movements. 

Your whine is beyond petulant. “Don’t tease me!” 

“Pretty, I promise you, when I tease you, you’ll know.” 

And then he adds his middle finger, curling both, pressing on the most sensitive spot on your inner wall. Over and over, his fingers flutter, massaging until starlight bursts behind your eyelids. 

“It’ll be something like this.” 

He withdraws his hand.

“Gyuuuuuu.”

If he was slightly cocky earlier, he’s fully arrogant now, face breaking into a wide grin while he laughs. “Wow, so whiny. You do want me bad.” 

“I swear to god if you dohhhhHHH-”

You break off in a moan when he lowers his face again, loudly lapping at your wetness. Clever fingers alternate between scissoring and stroking, following the changes in your breathing, and you hope that he’s close to being satiated, because you’re teetering on the edge of your climax, only the slightest bit more stimulation necessary to push you over. 

“Mingyu. Mingyu, I’m gonna cum.” You open your eyes, raising your head enough to look at him, to watch with a dropped jaw as he buries his face in your cunt, his own eyes closed in ecstasy, and oh, that’s it - “Oh god, I’m gonna cum!” 

Your warning cry - though clearly appreciated by Mingyu, who groans in answering refrain, hips humping the bed furiously - is ultimately unnecessary, given how hard your walls suddenly clench around his fingers. He doesn’t stop his ministrations, fingerfucking you through your orgasm as your lower half trembles beneath his heavy arm. He holds you in place as best he can, sweetly kissing your clit, while you wail and writhe, pressing your palm into your mouth to keep your cries from waking the rooms around you. 

Eventually your tremors slow, turning into occasional twitches, before your body finally relaxes. Mingyu continues to lap at you, every pass of his tongue getting lighter and lighter, until he lifts his head. He’s the perfect image of lust, eyes dark and desirous, and you claw at his shoulders, needing him close again. 

“Kiss me.” 

He wipes his face with the back of his hand, smearing you over himself more as he rises up to meet you. His cock is hard between you, and you moan, knowing that you did that, that he got this turned on just from eating you out, and extend your fingers to wrap around him.

The unbidden sound he utters when you take his cock and slide it through your soaking folds, coating it in your wetness, is the filthiest sound you’ve ever heard.

“Careful, pretty,” he pants, looking down at your hand. Under his close gaze, you circle the head of his cock before rubbing your thumb over and around the slit there. “‘M close.” 

“Wanna make you come, ‘Gyu,” you tell him, and he hisses, hips bucking into your grip. 

“Fuck.” His long fingers cover yours, guiding you into a faster pace. “But I’m gonna make a mess.”

“Do it. Make a mess.” The need to make him completely fall apart takes possession of you, makes you say things you’ve never said to anyone else. “Come all over me.” 

Mingyu whines, chin dropping to his chest. He’s barely blinking as he stares at your entwined hands. 

“Pretty… don’t say that….”

“Please, ‘Gyu.” All shame has fled your body. “I want it.” 

No further encouragement is needed. Mingyu grunts a few times before he’s painting your stomach in so much white, in little drops and big splashes, doing exactly what you told him, eyes rolling back in his head as he does.

When his high abates, he sits back on his heels, gazing at the mess he created, all the sticky sweat and semen that covers your body. A delirious thought comes to you. Is the sight beautiful enough for him to want to take a picture? 

“Wow,” he murmurs after a moment, shaking his head. “You’re even prettier when you’re covered in me.” 

His dead serious expression is enough to break the haze of lust hanging over you. You throw your arm over your face, too flustered to look at him. “‘Gyuuuuu!”

“Changed my mind, I’m calling you ‘whiny' from now on.” The bed shifts as Mingyu rises. He laughs all the way to and from the bathroom, laughs even harder when you glare at him, reaching for the towel he holds. He surprises you by nudging your hand away. “Let me.”  

His touch is so gentle as he wipes away his mess, then your own. When you’re both clean enough, he lays on his side, draping his arm over you. “Think you can sleep now?” 

Oh, you can sleep. You’re feeling satiated in a way you haven’t for a long time, and now that the rush has worn off, you could knock right out. You should probably go back to your room, ride this calm wave right into sleep, not let yourself get too excited at the thought that this vacation might be the best one ever.

Instead, you grin, sliding your fingers through the hair on the back of his neck. “Yeah. But I don’t want to.” 

“Oh?” Mingyu’s smile mirrors yours. “What do you wanna do instead?” 

“I might have some ideas.” 

He lets you pull him down for a kiss, humming eagerly.

“Tell me what you want, pre-”

A sharp rap on the door startles you both.

“Dude, don’t you dare!” Minghao hisses through the wood. “We’ve been out here forever!” 

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[risuola]

ENTRY #11 ♡ F. READER X GOJO SATORU // I starve for your touch yet fear to savor it.

contents: arranged marriage!au, nudity, reader discretion is advised — wc. 1690

a/n: there was no way i wouldn't write a fic based on this picture. just no way.

series masterlist

Satoru loves to sleep naked.

The beauty of his innate technique, the blessing that he mastered to no end, has stripped him off one of the most basic human needs — touch. He wasn’t missing it that much, he thought, but there was something in letting go of everything and allowing himself to be wrapped in the silky layers of bedsheets that made his body crave the feeling.

He has always picked expensive garments, the ones with soft fabrics and luxurious feel, despite everyone telling him it’s unreasonable to spend so much on a shirt or a pair of trousers, but to him, it did matter. To him, that was the only thing touching his body when a thin layer of infinity effectively forced everything else back. To Satoru, touch was forbidden, threatening. It was a vulnerability that he, the strongest, couldn’t afford.

But that until he’s met you. Until he’s married you.

You were one of not many people he’s made an exception for. You were able to touch him whenever you wanted because the protective surface of endless matter let you in. Because he himself altered his technique to make you capable of laying your hands on his body.

He longed for your touch. So soft, and delicate, and warm. He craved more of it and yet, despite being shameless and confident, he has not allowed himself to sleep bare even once since the day you and him were bound by the knot of matrimony. It would cross boundaries he wasn’t sure you’d wish to cross; it would make you uncomfortable, awkward maybe — and he liked the way your relationship looked like now. He liked the late evenings you talked quietly, alone and intimate in the warm embrace of sheets and your own house.

For you, he let go of the way he used to sleep before because you were worth the sacrifice, but now, you were gone for few days. You were sent on a mission away from Tokyo and the hours Satoru spent alone in bed, thinking of nothing more but your fingertips on top of his skin, made him desperate — and so, he allowed himself the comfort of soft cotton and silk.

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

You were tired. Exhausted even, by the intense fight you had to pull through, by the uncomfortable nights spent in the dingy hotel room, by the humid weather and rains. In moments like this, there was nothing you envied more in the world than your husband’s ability to warp from one place to another, but you got lucky. Incredibly so, because Ijichi offered you a ride home two days earlier than you were supposed to head back and you thanked all gods and devils for that man’s kindness. He was willing to put on some more road just to get you home.

“Thank you so, so much, Ijichi,” you kissed his cheek — a ghost of a peck that made him all red and steamy and you felt giddy for a moment, seeing the tips of his ears turn crimson. Adorable. You liked him, he was dutiful, polite, trustworthy and constantly terrorized by your husband, so you were determined to at least be the Gojo he likes.

“You’re very welcome,” he mumbled and fixed the frames on the bridge of his nose, pushing them up with the tip of his pointer finger. “Have a good rest.”

“You too, Ijichi.”

Then, he was gone and you were stepping into the house with a deep sense of relief washing over you. Home sweet home. If you were to guess, it was most likely somewhere around 4 am, way too early for anyone to be up — especially your husband — so you gave it your all to stay as quiet as possible. The sun was just showing its first rays from way below the horizon line, crawling up with golden hues and breaking the nightly, navy darkness.

On your toes you moved across the house. It seemed as if Gojo was spending his time alone quite ordinarily — you saw a modest stack of empty takeout boxes, much less humble pile of candy wrappers and his uniform jacket thrown over the couch backrest, along with few other little items that you struggled to differentiate in the nocturnal haze.

You put down your bag, hung up your coat and pushed off the shoes. Ghosting your way towards the bathroom, you were desperate to wash away the combat residuals. You lathered up the shower gel in a rush, desperate to rest and sleep in the comfort of your own bed and then, wrapped in the towel, you tippy-toed to the bedroom, but—

“Came back earlier?”

—you truly didn’t expect to be met with a sight like this. Your husband was awake, just barely, most likely awaken by the water running in the bathroom. His eyes were closed, hidden underneath his forearm and shielded from the lights that were slowly creeping inside, between the dark curtains and onto his face. His body seemed relaxed between the sheets. The softest, gentlest lines of golden glimmer that painted its patterns over his uncovered chest and leg, his hip and one of the muscular arms. The duvet was covering less than half of him, hiding a part of his stomach, the other leg and—

“You’re staring.”

Satoru didn’t even have to look at you to know that your gaze was lingering on his frame. On his very, very naked frame, just barely concealed by the comforter.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, feeling the heat creeping up your cheeks and reaching the tips of your ears and you thanked the darkness for hiding it away. You walked around the bed, hoping to find your pajama where you left it and trying to force your head out of the gutter. You heard your husband letting out a deep exhale and then, a soft hum. His voice was as melodic as always, though you could tell how much sleepiness was laced into it.

Satoru should’ve notice you when you entered the area of your house, but he didn’t. Tired by his own job, by the classes and all of the meetings, he allowed himself to lower his guard and when he realized you’re home, he contemplated for a moment getting up and dressed, but he just didn’t want to.

“You’re exhausted, screw pajamas, just come here,” he said before he managed to think twice about it. It was a daring offer, inappropriate even and he opened his mouth to apologize for it, but then, you rendered him speechless.

Your weight felt good on top of him. You lay your body over his own with feathery gentleness and carefully maneuvered your way to rest on his chest completely. The touch of your skin flush to his own made his brain to short circuit, it felt divine, too good to be true and just so very right, he couldn’t say a word.

“Is that alright?” You asked quietly, pressing your ear right above his heart and letting out a breath that you held for a little too long. Your face felt hot, you were flushed and flustered but also oddly at ease with the current position and you wondered for a moment if it was the tiredness that made you so bold.

“More than that,” he replied, pulling the covers to hide you beneath them. He allowed one of his arms to snake around your waist and his lips to kiss the top of your head. “Rest. Sleep well, wifey.”

“Good night.”

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

10:19 AM

Satoru thought he was dreaming, but the weight on top of him felt too real. The soft scent of citrusy shower gel that lingered on your skin filled in his lungs each time he took a breath in and there was a tickle, he realized — every time his chest raised, a strand of your hair seemed to be moving against his jawline. You were not a dream.

He opened his eyes, blinking few times, adjusting them to the bright light that forced its way into the bedroom and then, he looked at you. You were still very deep asleep, he could tell based off the long inhales you were taking, slow and relaxed, fanning against his peck rhythmically. Your body was mostly on top of him, you were on his chest, your leg was between his and only your hips were resting on the bed. He still had his arm around you, as if making sure you were as close as possible.

It felt incredible. Intimate. It was everything he could have wished for. A touch, skin to skin, so intense it almost took his breath away. He felt nauseous at the thought, realizing that it’s the first time in his life, he’s that close to someone. So impossibly close that just a little bit more and you’d become a part of him. His heartbeat quickened.

It was so right. So awfully correct and at the same time, so very threatening. He felt helpless. Vulnerable. He was at your mercy, he was robbed of everything what made him the strongest, because at this very moment, he was bare. Uncovered before you, wrapped in an embrace that felt loving, that felt soothing, addicting, but if you only wished to hurt him, you’d—

You moved, shifting your weight a little bit, adjusting the position and the way your hand run down his side made him shiver. A soft sound escaped your throat when you let out a deeper exhale. He felt your fingers squeezing the flesh above his hip and then, you relaxed again.

“Your heart is beating so fast,” you whispered, not bothering to open your eyes, and Satoru held his breath. “Relax…”

And he chuckled. His chest vibrated below your ear and the adorable sound of displeasure you let out made him lose all of the tension. He turned, twisting his body inside your embrace to face you fully and he squeezed you with both of his arms, pulling you close. So impossibly close, and you whimpered, suddenly enclosed in a tight hold of your husband’s limbs. That was it for your sleep.

You could get used to it.

taglist: @kinny-away @anan-baban @lotomber @netflix-imagines @kawliflo @nishloves @ghostfacefricker6969 @thejujvtsupost @yozora7154 @cherrycolabarbedwirebedpost @stuckinmoilalaland @ae-mius @ropickle @chokesonspit @lansy-4 @mo0sin @just-pure-trash @foliea @bakarinnie @big-booty-joe

[mminghaos]

best friend seungcheol whom you have a crush on, but never told him. he doesn't know it either and y'all just bicker all the time as bsf, one day all of it changes when you finally say you found a match on some dating app. he realises it and bam! hot and heavy shit go down.

bitter crush , choi seungcheol x f!reader

SYPNOSIS: your bestfriend doesn’t know you’ve had a crush on him for years, but when you mention matching with someone on a dating app, everything changes.

WARNINGS: smut, fingering, kissing, teasing, mingyu as the failed date lmfao

requests are open, do send some in!!

you’ve been friends with seungcheol since high school, watching each other grow up — first jobs, first kisses, and everything in between, sticking together through the highs and lows. your friendship is built on bickering and teasing each other like it’s second nature. but now, the bickering feels different.

“i matched with someone on that app i told you about,” you say, placing your coffee down on the wooden table of the café you and seungcheol are sitting at.

you’d decided to give a dating app a shot, hoping it would help you take your mind off seungcheol. maybe meeting someone new will help you move on, or at least distract you from the constant thoughts about him. but so far, it’s just more of the same — swiping, chatting, but none of its ever seemed to match the energy you share with him. you might as well move on, since seungcheol has is own hookups and girlfriends, and none of them will ever be you. its frustrating, the way this burning crush for him is always shimmering beneath the surface, gnawing at you. this is going to be the death of you — that’s what you always tell yourself.

“so you’re telling me you’re out here swiping on strangers?” he responds, his voice laced with something you can’t quite place. “what happened to the whole ‘not needing anyone’ thing?”

“it changed.”

“really? that’s weird.” he says, his eyes never leaving you. “thought you were too busy to deal with anyone new.”

you roll your eyes, trying to brush it off. “yeah, well, apparently im not as busy as i thought.”

you’ve never been the type to casually date or get involved with someone just for the sake of it. but lately, things feel different. seungcheol’s always been there — constant, reliable, and annoyingly perfect in his own way — and it’s hard to ignore how your thoughts always circle back to him, no matter how many times you try to push them away. you’ve never said it out loud, never let him in on the truth of how much he’s been occupying your mind, and the idea of dating someone else? it almost feels like a joke. you’re not really here for some random guy who doesn’t know you like he does. but the more you try to distract yourself, the more you realize how little it helps. no matter how many matches you get, no conversation ever seems to compare to the effortless back and forth you share with seungcheol. it’s like you’re chasing something that doesn’t quite exist, and each swipe only makes you feel more frustrated. but you can’t exactly admit that, not to him, not to anyone. so you keep trying, hoping maybe this time will be different, even though you know deep down it won’t be.

“so, who’s this guy?”

you shrug, trying to keep your voice steady. “kim mingyu. he’s nice. we’ve met a few times before, actually — works at that bar down the street.”

seungcheol leans back in his chair, his arms crossed as he watched you. he clears his throat. “just don’t pick some random guy who doesn’t get you, alright?”

“what, are you jealous or something?”

“no.”

the date with mingyu went well. you two got along really great — there was no shortage of conversation, and the chemistry was comfortable. you both enjoyed the meal and found common ground in ways that made the evening feel lighthearted and easy. it was nice, actually, to just relax and enjoy someone’s company without any pressure.

even if the date was good, you and mingyu both agreed that you should just be friends, neither of you feeling the sparks you were hoping for.

you walk into your apartment, slipping off your shoes and placing your keys under the mat. its quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen. you head towards the living room, where seungcheol is sprawled on your couch, sorting through the groceries he offered to pick up for you earlier this week.

“you’re back early,” he says, glancing up with a smirk. “thought you were gonna be out all night with your… date.”

you roll your eyes, not really in the mood to talk about it. “it was fine,” you reply, shrugging as you drop your purse on the counter. “nothing special.”

seungcheol raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “really?”

you let out a breath, trying to sound casual. “yeah, well, turns out i’m not as interested as i thought.”

he tilts his head, looking at you like he’s trying to figure you out. “what do you mean?”

you hesitate, leaning against the kitchen counter, fingers tapping against the countertop. “we got along, i guess. but we just decided to be friends.”

“huh.” seungcheol shrugs, clearly unconcerned, though there’s something in the way he watches you that makes you pause. “so you’re saying you don’t feel any connection with him at all?”

you shift, rubbing the back of your neck. “it’s just… not there. but whatever. i’m fine.”

“you sure?” seungcheol presses, his voice dropping an octave, and you can’t help but notice how close he’s sitting now. “because i’m sure someone else would love the chance to—”

“ugh, please.” you cut him off, trying to brush it off. “i don’t need some random guy to be interested.”

he smirks, clearly not buying it. “really? sounds like you do.”

you bite your lip, trying to hold onto your patience, but it’s slipping through your fingers. you know he’s teasing, and usually, you’d laugh it off, but tonight feels different. there’s a tension in the air that you can’t ignore, something that’s been building for years. frustration bubbles up inside you, and before you can stop yourself, the words spill out.

“cheol, i like you, okay?” you blurt out, your voice trembling slightly, surprised by how easily it all comes rushing out.

he pauses, his eyes narrowing slightly as he processes your words. there’s a moment of silence, and you feel like you’re about to suffocate under the weight of it. his gaze flickers to your face, then down to your hands, then back to your eyes, as if trying to figure out what’s really going on.

“wait,” he says slowly, his tone less playful and more cautious now. “you’re not drunk, are you? had drinks or something when you were out?”

you quickly shake your head, trying to steady your breath. “no, i’m not drunk. i just—” but the words feel clumsy on your tongue, and suddenly, you’re unsure of how to take them back.

“i shouldn’t have said that,” you mutter, your cheeks burning with embarrassment. “this was stupid, i’m sorry. i don’t even know why i—”

you start rambling, trying to downplay the confession that’s just slipped out. each word feels like it’s digging you deeper, and you just want to take it all back. “i mean, i don’t even know what i was thinking—this is—god, i’m so—”

but before you can finish, seungcheol pushes himself off the couch and walks towards you, stopping just a few inches away. his eyes still lock on yours. the silence stretches, and you feel your heart race, your breath catching in your throat. you want to say something, to apologize again, but all the words are caught in your chest.

“stop,” he says softly, his voice low, but there’s an intensity in it that you can’t ignore.

you open your mouth, wanting to explain, to take back the awkward confession, but the words jumble in your mind. “it’s just… i didn’t want to make it weird, and now i’ve probably ruined everything—”

seungcheol doesn’t say anything, just watches you with an unreadable look in his eyes, waiting for you to stop rambling. you go on anyway, trying to explain yourself, even though you can feel yourself getting more flustered with each passing second.

before you can continue, he steps forward, his hand gently cupping your face, cutting off your words. you freeze, eyes wide, but before you can process anything, his lips crash onto yours, effectively silencing you.

the kiss is deep and urgent, like he’s been holding back too. your brain barely registers what’s happening as your hands instinctively move to his chest, but the tension that had been building between you both for so long snaps. everything goes quiet in your mind, and for the first time tonight, all the chaos and nerves fall away, replaced by the heat of his kiss.

the kiss lingers for a moment, intense and raw, as if neither of you wants to pull away. your breath mingles with his, the world around you blurring until there’s only the feeling of him so close, so real. your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing in your ears, and you can feel the tension in his body as he holds you just a bit tighter, as if he’s afraid you might slip away.

when he finally pulls back, you’re left breathless, your forehead resting against his as you both try to catch your breath. his hands are still on you, one gently holding your face, the other resting on your hip, grounding you.

“you really don’t make things easy, do you?” he murmurs, his voice a little hoarse, the teasing edge back in his tone, but it’s softer now, more affectionate.

you don’t trust yourself to speak right away. all the words that had been stuck in your chest before are now lost, replaced by the overwhelming feeling of him so close, his touch still lingering on your skin. instead, you look up at him, meeting his eyes, trying to make sense of everything, but before you can say anything, he smiles slightly, a genuine, soft expression.

“i didn’t realise how much i liked you until you told me about that guy,” he admits, brushing his thumb over your cheek gently. “i was too stupid to notice.”

you dont get to reply because his hand moves down your back, pulling you closer, your chest pressed against his. the room feels warmer now, charged with something you can't ignore. your hands find their way to his chest, pushing lightly at first, unsure if you should pull away or let it happen. but he doesn't give you that chance.

his lips return to yours, but this time, there's more urgency in it, his kiss deepening as his tongue brushes against yours. you let out a soft sigh, the tension that's been building between you two for what feels like forever finally snapping. he groans, his hand moving to your neck, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss further. the heat between you both grows, and you can feel every inch of him pressing against you, making your pulse quicken.

seungcheol's voice is low, almost a whisper as he takes a step back, hands resting on your waist, grounding you both. "do you want to keep going?" he asks.

you nod, your heart racing, but your mind is clear. “yes.”

he doesn't say anything more, just nods and gently takes your hand, leading you through the apartment. when you get to your room, he lays you down on the bed gently, his hands never leaving you.

seungcheol hovers over you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation, any sign that you’re unsure. you can feel his body close to yours, the warmth radiating off him. “are you sure?”

“yes, cheol.” you let out a light laugh, pulling him closer. “im sure.”

his lips trail down your jaw, each kiss softer than the last before he moves to your neck, his teeth grazing slightly over the skin. you let out a soft sigh once he pulls back after reaching where your shirt starts. before he can say anything, you’re reaching for the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric over your head.

seungcheol takes a moment, his gaze lingering on you before meeting your eyes again.

“you’re so beautiful,” he says, unclasping your bra and slipping it off. “god.”

his hands find their way to your pants as he trails kisses down your chest, each one growing more desperate as his lips move lower. the warmth of his breath against your skin sends a shiver through you, and you can feel your heart race with every gentle press of his lips.

eventually, he pulls your pants off, discarding them somewhere on the floor behind him. “please.” you breathe out

“hmm?” he responds, his fingers slipping just under the band of your panties. “what do you want, baby?”

“need you inside me, please.”

he glances down at you, lips twitching up into a smirk. “patience.”

“no, no, no— cheol, please—” you whimper out.

“don’t worry, you’ll get what you want.” he cuts you off, pressing a light kiss to your collarbone.

when he finally stops teasing you and pulls your panties down, tossing them god knows where, you’re already a mess underneath him. every nerve in your body is on edge, anticipation building as he slides two fingers through your folds. “fuck, you’re soaking wet for me, baby.” a low groan escapes his lips, his restraint wavering as he fights to hold himself back.

he slowly pushes one finger into your pussy, giving you a moment to relax before he adds another and starts to curl them into all the right places.

“cheol!” your head falls back against the pillow, hand going to grab his wrist for some sort of stability.

“yeah, you like that?”

you’re already so close — just from the way his fingers move inside you, hitting every spot that sends sparks shooting througu your body.

you nod over and over again, hips rising to match the rhythm of his movements. “don’t stop— fuck— please, im so close.” 

your breath hitches, and you clutch at his arm, desperate for grounding as the sensations overwhelm you. every stroke of his fingers feels like its pulling you closer to the brink, and the tension in your body winds tighter with each passing second. “please—” the word slips out as a whisper, barely audible. your legs start to shake, the pleasure coursing through you almost too much to bear.

before you can even warn seungcheol, you’re coming undone all over his fingers, hips bucking up at the same time.

“god, thats so hot.” he mutters, but you’re too out of it to know if its to you or himself.

"you alright?" seungcheol asks softly, his hand resting on your hip as he looks down at you with concern. his touch is gentle, almost hesitant, as if he's checking for any sign of discomfort.

you nod, your breath still ragged, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "yeah, i'm good. just... didn't expect that." your voice is breathy, the lingering effects of the moment still making your body tingle.

seungcheol smirks, clearly pleased with the reaction. "you sure you're not too overwhelmed?" he teases, his hand moving to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

you laugh softly, the sound shaky but genuine. "im fine" you reply, looking up at him with a playful glint in your eye. "was that your way of saying you like me too?"

“it was.” he smirks, eyes locking onto yours. “think you can go for one more round?”

he really is going to be the death of you.