#which will just barely make it to the amount i need for that bill that's due | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugoroo · 5 months ago

Text

TRADING CARDS!

ʚɞ summary: toji’s in need of some cash, and you’re in need of having your cherry popped! he’ll take your v card if you lend him your credit card. simple, right?

warnings: fem!reader, penetration (p in v), breast play, tummy bulge, squirting, loss of virginity (reader), fingering, oral (f receiving), age gap (reader just finished college), tojis a bit of a perv, 18+ minors dni.

wc: 7.2k

"hey, doll?" toji grunts as he pokes his head into your room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he shoots you a slightly apologetic grin. "i'm gonna need ya to cover my half of the rent again this month."

you look up from your phone, your lips pulling down into a small frown at his words. this isn't the first time this has happened, and it certainly won't be the last, either. "seriously, toji?"

toji simply gives you a noncommittal shrug in response, turning the pockets of his sweatpants inside out as if to further prove his point — there wasn't a single cent in sight. "i ain't got nothin', sweets. hardly been able to buy food these last few days."

you roll your eyes, letting out a soft huff at his not-so-subtle attempt to make you feel bad for him (which almost always worked, and he knew it.) "fine. but you better come through next month. i can't keep covering you."

he lets out a sigh of relief, reaching out to ruffle your hair with one his large hands. "yeah yeah, i'll pay up next time. promise." he was lying through his teeth, and you both knew it. but you chose not to comment on it — maybe a small part of you wanted to keep toji as your roommate, even if you had to pay his rent half the time.

toji heads back out into the living room to lazily slump across the couch, leaving you to your own thoughts.

it was really starting to grate on your nerves how much you had to support him. he's a fully grown man, and you're a young girl fresh out of college. and yet, somehow, you ended up being the one paying his bills with the leftover money from your summer job.

and maybe it wouldn't bother you so much, if you weren't so constantly pent up.

college was supposed to be your time to shine, where you'd attend countless parties and have meaningless hookups with guys in bathrooms, just like all the movies you watched when you were younger.

but it wasn't really like that. and as much as you loathe to admit it, you're still a virgin. with only your own feeble fingers to keep you company, you can probably count on one hand the amount of orgasms you've had in your life.

and that's when you have an idea.

it's just like trading cards — toji takes your v card, and in return, you lend him your credit card.

it's shameless, and you might've felt embarrassed with yourself for even coming up with it if you weren't in dire need of releasing some tension.

and if toji's as desperate for money as he makes out like he is, maybe he wouldn't mind agreeing to your little proposition.

the only catch in your genius idea is that you actually have to ask toji about it.

you've been lingering outside his bedroom door for what feels like hours, trying to figure out how to actually phrase your proposal without making a complete fool of yourself.

but just as you timidly raise a fist to knock, the door swings open, and toji walks right into you, causing you to collide face first with his toned chest. you barely register the two strong hands that rest over your shoulders to steady you, your mind suddenly laser focused on the way your cheek is squished between his pecs.

"oops. sorry, doll," toji chuckles heartily, moving one of his hands from your shoulder to gently grasp your hair and pull your now noticeably flushed face away from his chest. "didn't see ya there."

"n-no, it's my fault." you manage to stammer out, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to regain your composure. shit, you hadn't even asked him yet, and you were already a mess.

he raises a thick eyebrow at your skittish demeanour, his hand leaving your hair to teasingly poke at one of your adorably pink cheeks. "aww, what's this? you blushin'?"

you try and shoot him a glare, but it looks more like a pout than anything else as you meekly swat his hand away from your face. "shut up, toji. you're the one who walked right into me."

he lets out a deep, amused chortle at this, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at you with a lazy smirk. "right. and you're the one who was lingering outside my door like a creeper."

you let out an embarrassed huff at his rebuttal, knowing there's no way to deny it now. you take another deep breath, idly wringing your hands as you crane your neck to look up at him. "yeah. about that. i, um, i wanted to ask you something."

toji cocks his head to the side, his expression turning mildly curious. "oh? what could you possibly want to ask this old man, hm?" he grunts, your little nervous fidgets not going unnoticed by him.

"w-well, i, um..." you begin, your features twisting up into a grimace as you struggle to get the words out. damn it, you were already cursing your past self for thinking this was a good idea. "i have a proposition for you."

this seems to pique the dark-haired man's interest, and he straightens his back slightly, reaching up with a large hand to scratch his chin. "what kind of proposition are we talkin', sweets?"

you swallow thickly at the way he puts such emphasis on the word proposition, as if he already knows exactly what you're thinking. but of course he doesn't — how could he?

"the kind of proposition where i lend you my credit card to help with your little... money problem," you begin, fighting to keep your voice as steady as possible. "and in return, you..."

toji's eyebrows raise even higher at your words, and he lets out a grunt of irritation when you trail off at the end of your sentence. "in return i what? use your words, doll."

"and in return, you..." you repeat quietly, your voice becoming consistently quieter until the last few words come out as a mere whisper. "help me lose my virginity."

the silence that follows your words is absolutely deafening, the only noise being the faint sounds of cars passing by the road outside the apartment.

you immediately start thinking of ways to salvage the situation, maybe just laugh it off and say it was a prank or something. it's a flimsy excuse, but it's better than this painful silence.

just as you open your mouth in an attempt to backtrack, toji grasps your chin in one large hand, effectively shutting you up with the movement. "you're a damn virgin?" he rasps out, turning your flushed face from side to side as if examining it would help him find the answer.

"u-uh, yeah," you mutter sheepishly, shrinking in on yourself slightly under the sudden intensity of his gaze. "why do you sound so surprised?"

toji barks out an almost incredulous laugh, as if you were utterly ridiculous for even asking such a thing. "seriously?" he huffs, shaking his head. "you're a fine little thing. figured ya would've had guys linin' up around the block for ya at college."

your eyes widen almost comically at his words, your mouth opening and closing a few times as you try to form a coherent response. you never expected your considerably older, rough around the edges roommate to actually find you attractive. "i-is that a yes, then?"

he scoffs loudly at this, repeating your words back to you in a mocking tone. "how the hell do ya expect me to say no to that?" he mutters, the pad of his thumb skimming across your jaw. "i've done worse deals for a whole lot less."

you let out a long sigh of relief, some of the tension leaving your shoulders at his agreement. the hardest part was out the way — you'd managed to get him on board.

"hey." toji grunts, his hand on your chin squeezing hard enough to get your attention as he angles it higher, tearing you from your thoughts. "look at me when we're talkin', girl."

your eyes widen even further at his sudden commanding tone, your thighs instinctively pressing together slightly beneath your skirt. the reaction doesn't go unnoticed by toji, but he doesn't comment on it, simply filing the information away for later.

"ya sure this is what y'want, sweets?" toji asks, his voice barely above a low mutter as he leans his head down closer to your level, his hot breaths just barely puffing across your face as he seemingly searches for any signs of hesitance. "once it's done there ain't no goin' back."

"i... i know." you gulp, vaguely aware of the way his dark eyes follow the gentle bobbing of your throat. "i wouldn't have asked if i didn't want this."

he hums, appearing satisfied with your answer. his thumb moves from your jaw to the plump skin of your lower lip, pulling it down slightly before letting it snap back into place. "how long do i get ya credit card for?"

"how long?" you repeat, blinking a few times. you hadn't even thought about that. and it was becoming quite hard to focus with the way he was toying with your lip. "um... twenty four hours."

toji grunts in acknowledgement, but his lips start to spread into a mischievous grin, and you can tell he's not going to make this easy for you. "nah. forty eight."

you let out an indignant huff, your eyes narrowing at the audacity of this man. two whole days? he was probably planning on bankrupting you at this rate. "thirty six." you counter.

he lets out a hearty laugh, his chest visibly rumbling with amusement at your haggling. his thumb traces over your lip again, causing you to let out a shuddering breath. "mm. ya got y'erself a deal there, dollface."

"good." you mutter, reaching out a hand towards him in a gesture of sealing the deal. toji takes it, his large hand entirely enveloping yours as he gives it a brisk shake.

before you can even think of saying anything else, toji uses his grip on your hand to tug you closer to his chest, your face almost colliding with his torso again.

"i'm assumin' you've atleast kissed before?" toji muses, this thumb still tracing the contour of your lips as if that would answer his question.

you let out a small, embarrassed laugh, rubbing the back of your neck as you find yourself avoiding his gaze again. "yeah, i have."

toji tuts, yanking your chin back up again, more forcibly this time. "jesus, girl. what did i say about keeping your eyes on me?" he grumbles. "and whatcha laughin' for? i say somethin' funny?"

"sorry." you huff, your lips pushing out into an involuntary pout. "i'm not laughing because of you. it was just a really... bad kiss."

he hums in response, tilting his head to the side as his grin morphs into a small smirk. "damn. a virgin and you've never even had a good kiss. i got my work cut out for me here."

you try and shoot him another glare, a huff of exasperation leaving your lips. "no need to rub it in, toji. i'm paying you for this, remember?"

toji barks out an amused chuckle, shaking his head at your little attempts to try and look stern. cute. "yeah yeah, i know ya are. and don't worry, ya won't regret it."

you're about to open your mouth to retort, but before a single syllable can leave your mouth, toji's lips are on yours. they're rough and slightly chapped as they brush over your own, just the texture you would've expected them to be if you had to guess.

it's not a rough kiss, but it's not exactly gentle either. it's somewhere in the middle, somewhere that makes you think even the way toji kisses is just so... toji.

he pulls away after a few moments, letting out a soft huff of laughter at your dazed expression. "you still in there, sweets?" he hums, flicking his thumb against your forehead.

you can feel the way your cheeks flush darker at his taunting words, silently cursing yourself for getting so worked up over a simple kiss. damn it, it was so obvious just how touch starved you were. how were you going to make it through this?

"i'm still here." you grumble under your breath, causing toji to chuckle even harder. "and if you're just gonna keep laughing at me, maybe i'll go ask someone else to help me."

toji's chuckle turns into a bark of laughter, and his lips curve up into a smug grin as he flicks your forehead again. "no can do. we already shook on it. handshake's sacred, dollface. dontcha know?"

"ugh. you just made that—" you attempt to argue, but he shuts you up by pressing his lips back onto yours again, slightly rougher this time. you let out a sound of surprise against his mouth when his scar brushes against your skin, but slowly, you start to reciprocate the gesture.

he lets out a satisfied hum, starting to take a few steps backwards through the doorway of his room, his lips still moving against yours all the way.

you angle your face up to unknowingly chase after his lips when he pulls away, and you have to swallow down the embarrassing sound that threatens to escape you when you realize what you're doing.

toji snorts, shutting the door behind the two of you with a stupidly self-satisfied smirk stretching across his lips. "that attached to me already, huh? we only just started."

"i'm not attached." you scoff meekly, though your actions severely contradict your words as you lean up on your tiptoes in the search of another kiss.

"mhm. whatever y'say, girl." he mutters amusedly, his hand snaking under your chin again to help you reach his mouth. he meets you halfway, his kisses growing slowly more insistent as his tongue flickers out to swipe over your lower lip.

a soft gasp escapes your lips at the feeling of the warm, wet muscle asking for entrance into your mouth, but you comply, parting your lips to allow the intrusion.

he lets out a satisfied grunt, his tongue darting every which way as it expertly explores the warm cavern of your mouth. you just stand there, completely stock still, for a long few seconds before your own tongue starts to meekly lick against his.

"yeah, there we go," toji mutters into your mouth, his thick tongue easily enveloping yours as he rolls them together. he's so effortless with it, like this is second nature for him — you suppose it probably is. you're not oblivious to the amount of hookups he brings back to the apartment when he thinks you're asleep.

toji pulls back from your mouth with a lewd pop! once he registers that you need some air, observing the way your chest rapidly rises and falls like you can't get enough oxygen with silent amusement.

he's going to have such fun pulling more of these pretty reactions from you.

while you're still desperately trying to catch your breath, he slides both of his rough, calloused palms under the fabric of your shirt, his hands leaving a tingling trail of heat across your skin.

"wait—" you begin to protest, but whatever you were going to say trails off once you feel his fingers brush against the underside of your breasts.

he lets out a grunt of surprise, raising his bushy eyebrows. "no bra, doll?" toji scoffs, shaking his head. "you were ready for this, weren't ya?

your cheeks flood with embarrassment for the nth time this evening, and you feel the sudden urge to just shove his hands away and go back to your room to get yourself off with your feeble fingers. but you don't.

toji lets out yet another snort of laughter at your reaction, rolling his eyes. "i ain't sayin' it's a bad thing, girl," he mumbles, moving his hands to cup each of your breasts in his wide palms. "makes things easier for me. i like it."

you let out a small huff of relief at his sort-of-creepy reassurance, unable to fight the way your body instinctively leans into his touch, pressing your chest into his hands slightly.

he hums, removing his hands only to push your shirt up to get a look at your bare breasts, the fabric bunching up around your collarbone as he leans in closer to inspect your assets.

"toji!" you gasp in complaint, trying to push down the instinct to cover yourself up from your roommate's intense gaze. but when your hands fly up to guard your chest, he instantly grabs your wrists, making you freeze.

"ah ah," he chides with a smug smirk, easily moving both of your wrists into one hand while the other reaches out to fondle your breasts. "no need to be shy. ya got a nice pair of juicy tits right here."

his compliment is so lewd, and even with the way you attempt to wriggle your wrists free from his grip, he effortlessly keeps them trapped with one strong hand.

toji squeezes and kneads the supple flesh of your breasts, laving both with equal attention as he feels up every inch of skin available to him. he can't believe his little roommate has been hiding these pretty tits from him all this time.

when he leans down to pop one into his mouth, you let out a strangled gasp which quickly morphs into an almost pornographic moan when he starts to gently suckle at your highly sensitive nipple.

"shit." you manage to push out, your breaths becoming increasingly more erratic as he starts to flick his rough tongue over your perked bud. you can feel rather than hear the raspy chuckle he lets out at your reaction.

"so damn sensitive," toji rumbles as he pulls back from your breast, which is now shiny and slick with his salvia, before moving to the other. "y'like that, huh?"

it takes you a few moments to form a coherent response, your mind suddenly feeling unable to focus on anything other than the way he's practically making out with your chest. "y-yeah."

toji's smirk widens in a grin at your stammered words, clearly finding enjoyment in the way your body is reacting to his every touch. "bet ya do. poor thing, graduated college and still never been properly touched."

you let out an indignant huff, annoyance momentarily taking over your pleasure. damn it, why did he always have to mock you at any given opportunity? you're starting to wish you never told him about your virginity.

he snorts again at your huff, removing his mouth from your breast with a long, stringy trail of salvia connecting his lips to your chest. "whatcha huffin' for, girl? thought ya wanted this."

you shoot him another one of your trying-to-be-stern-but-really-just-pouting glares. "i do want this. but i also want you to stop laughing at me the entire time."

he rolls his eyes dramatically, acting as if not laughing at your expense was the most difficult thing he'd been asked to do today. "i'm not laughin' at you, dollface. i'm laughin' at those stupid ass college boys who missed out on having you like this."

before you can even begin to process his words, toji crowds you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the edge of his bed, and you instinctively plop down onto the mattress, looking up at him with wide eyes.

he snickers at your shocked expression, moving forward to stand between your legs. from this position, he towers over you even more than usual, and you have to crane your neck practically all the way back to meet his eyes.

"why so surprised, hmm?" toji drawls, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear in an uncharacteristically gentle touch. "y'think i didn't notice how pretty ya were the first damn day ya moved in?"

you open and close your mouth a few times before managing to pull yourself together enough to speak. "honestly? i kinda figured you didn't pay me much attention — considering how many hookups you bring around here."

he hums in response, moving his hand to grasp your chin and force you to maintain eye contact with him. "so you noticed that, huh?" he grunts, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "they're just distractions, really. i've wanted you for a while, but i assumed ya wouldn't be interested in and old man like me."

you can only raise an eyebrow incredulously at his words, as if he'd just said something ridiculous. "toji, you're so dramatic. you're not that old."

he barks out a loud laugh at this, slowly lowering himself to his knees between your legs. the audible sound of his muscles protesting the movement seems to disprove your words, making you wince. "no need to flatter me, sweets. i know 'm old." he mutters, his smirk still firmly in place.

you open your mouth to argue, but quickly forget whatever you were about to say when toji's large palms start to trail up your thighs, stopping just below the edge of your skirt.

"ya got no panties on too?" he asks teasingly, although you can hear the faint sense of actual curiosity in his tone. however, when his fingers graze against the edge of your lace panties, he huffs. "hmph. you disappoint me."

you roll your eyes at his words. you would've gone pantyless too, but unfortunately the prospect of finally losing your virginity made you so wet that you had to wear them to prevent yourself from dripping on the floor of the apartment.

"you've touched yourself before, i take it?" toji grunts as his hand moves to easily cup your clothed pussy in his palm, his smirk becoming a grin again when he feels how damp the material is.

you suck in a sharp breath, your eyes fluttering in pleasure at the feel of someone else's hand except your own touching your most sensitive area. "y-yeah, i have. but it's..."

toji seems to understand why you trailed off, letting out a hum of acknowledgement as his fingers start to rub little circles against your panties. "but your little fingers can't make you cum right, yeah?"

you can only manage a feeble nod, fighting the urge to start grinding yourself into his hand. he chuckles amusedly at your reaction, his fingers just dipping under the edge of your panties but not quite.

if you were one of his usual hookups, he'd probably be balls deep inside you by now. but you're not — you're his pretty little roommate he's had his eye on for a while, and on top of that, you're a virgin.

he's going to take his sweet time with you.

toji spends what feels like an eternity teasing you through your underwear until you're squirming restless on the edge of his bed before he finally, finally makes direct contact with your pussy.

"shit," he grunts as he swipes his finger through your sopping folds, the digit practically slipping across your slick skin. "you're so damn wet, baby. i've hardly even touched you yet."

you can't stop the pathetic whine that escapes your throat, your cheeks flushed a delightful shade of pink and your eyes half-lidded with need as you look down at him. "please, toji."

fucking hell. he actually has to restrain himself from just pouncing on you right there and then when you beg him so sweetly. instead, he lets out a raspy chuckle, his finger moving down to lazily circle your dripping entrance. "please what, girl? use your words."

"please..." you say again, your voice breathless as you wriggle your hips slightly underneath his hand. "touch me properly."

toji snorts at your phrasing, shaking his head. but before another retort can leave his lips, he's rendered speechless for a moment when he slides a finger into your entrance, your gummy walls instantly sucking him in.

"jesus," he mutters hoarsely, yanking your panties to the side with his other hand to get an unobstructed view of the way your little pussy flutters around his finger. "what a pretty fuckin' cunt."

you let out what can only be described as a mewl at his words, and the noise sounds foreign to your own ears. god, what is he doing to you?

he groans low in his throat at the sound you make, moving his finger around inside of you as gently as he can and brushing the thick digit against your spongy walls.

it should be illegal, really, how quickly toji manages to find your sweet spot. he's had a single finger inside your pussy for just under a minute, and the calloused pad of his digit is already grazing your sensitive g spot.

"ah!" you practically sob, your thighs instinctively clenching around his beefy arm. you've never felt such an intense spark of pleasure before — it's obvious you never managed to find that spot before when you attempted to get yourself off.

he grins smugly, brushing his finger over the spot again, almost touching it but not quite enough to properly stimulate you. "that's the spot, ain't it, dollface?" the question is rhetorical. you both know that's the spot.

but before you can start grinding yourself down onto his finger, he abruptly pulls it out, admiring the way the digit is now coated in your shiny slick.

you open your mouth to protest, or beg for more, or something, but all rational thoughts leave your mind when you see toji slip his finger into his mouth, sucking your juices from it with a low grunt.

"damn, that's good," he mutters gruffly, almost to himself, as he slides it out of his mouth with a lewd pop! — his eyes then fall back on your glistening pussy, his pupils dilated considerably more than before.

in a matter of moments, toji's slid your ruined panties down your legs, admiring the sticky mess soiled there before shamelessly shoving them in his pocket of his sweatpants.

"hey!—" you huff half-heartedly, but before you can even think of finishing the sentence, toji's chapped lips are placing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses up your thighs.

"mmph," you moan softly, not bothering to protest as he slides your thighs further apart with his palms, his lips nibbling against the supple skin of your inner thighs, undoubtably leaving small marks that will bloom tomorrow.

"wanna eat you," toji murmurs once he's face to face with your pussy, his hot breaths puffing across your sensitive skin and visibly making your little clit twitch impatiently. "can i eat you, dollface?"

you crease your eyebrows a little in confusion at his request. from what you'd heard from your college friends, guys hated performing oral for girls. but the way toji was staring hungrily at your cunt, his tongue swiping across his dry lips, made you think he would simply laugh at you again if you told him that.

"o-okay," you mutter sheepishly. and the second the agreement leaves your lips, toji's burying his entire face against your heat, groaning into your pussy as he rubs his sharp nose up and down your sopping folds.

when he first slides his rough tongue across your sensitive skin, you swear you go cross-eyed for a full moment before regaining control of yourself. it's like nothing you've ever felt before, wet and warm and so deliciously lewd.

"fuckin' sweeter than candy," toji grunts against your skin, the vibrations causing your body to instinctively attempt to wriggle away. but he's not having it, his beefy arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you in place. "ah ah, no runnin', baby."

while before you might've tried to argue a little in protest, your brain has already turned to mush from just his finger and his tongue, so you can only let out a few unintelligible murmurs.

"yeahhh," he snorts as he continues to sloppily lap at your folds, gathering as much of your syrupy slick on his tastebuds as possible. "don't hear none of that backtalk now."

god, he's so messy with it. you can hardly manage to keep your eyes open to gaze at him, but when you do, it only makes your pleasure heighten to new levels.

you've never seen your roommate so focused on anything before — not even those storage wars shows he likes to shout at on the tv. his eyes are half-lidded, his thick fingers are digging into your thighs so hard you can visibly see the marks forming, and his tongue is ruthless as it delves in and out of your dripping hole.

"t-toji, shit. feels so good," you manage to stammer out, your head thrown back and your hands traveling up to tangle in his messy dark hair without thinking, tugging on it gently.

your action draws a raspy chuckle from low in toji's throat, and his sloppy, shameless tongue seems to speed up even more in response. you vaguely register a glob of saliva landing on your pussy, but just as quick as it falls there, he's already licking it back up. "c'mon, girl, i know you can pull harder than that."

you attempt to tug his dishevelled strands harder, but your hands feel weak, and your thighs are starting to shake slightly around his head. you notice a familiar spring coiling in the depths of your stomach, but it feels more intense than any build-up to an orgasm you've given yourself before.

"t-think i'm close." you gasp out, your mouth hanging open as you try and keep your body from collapsing back against the mattress. he's quick to help, his hands sliding up the back of your skirt to support your back.

toji hums in satisfaction, a shit-eating (or, in this case, a pussy-eating) grin spreading across his lips as he continues to devour you, his tongue repeatedly massaging your g spot.

it feels like he's trying to eat you whole, and it's completely overwhelming in the best way possible.

"yeah?" he mutters against your cunt, wrapping his lips around your puffy, swollen clit and sucking the sensitive bud harshly. "go on then, baby. cum for me."

it feels like a part of you was instinctively waiting for his permission, because the second those words leave his mouth, your entire body starts convulsing in his strong arms, a strangled cry leaving your open mouth as you orgasm.

your earlier suspicion was right, because this is the hardest you've ever cum before in your entire life. (not that there's really much competition). your limbs feel all tingly and airy, and there aren't really many thoughts left in your mind except from toji, toji, toji.

"hmmph," toji grumbles, pulling back from your cunt after he's sure every bit of your sweet release is down his throat. he looks up at you, snickering gruffly at the utterly dumb look across your features.

you look completely fucked out already, and he hasn't even fucked you yet. that's what happens when you make a deal with a virgin, he assumes.

while you attempt to come down from your high, toji shifts slightly, his knees aching slightly from spending so long on the floor. but even worse than that, is the raging erection he has straining against the material of his sweatpants.

it's been there since he started kissing you, and it's only gotten progressively worse as the time stretched on. he's so hard now that it actually hurts, and the small stain of pre-cum darkening the front makes him feel like a damn teenager again.

toji gets to his feet, ignoring the way his stiff muscles protest, and sheds his sweats and his boxers in one swift movement, kicking them somewhere across the room. he makes his way between your legs, spreading them even further apart to make room for his body.

"wait..." you mumble dazedly, your words adorably slurred as you blink lazily up at him, reaching out a hand as if silently asking for something. "don't y'want me to return the favour first?"

he snorts, although it makes something inside him warm the slightest bit at your consideration. "nah, dollface. you're paying me, not the other way 'round, yeah?"

your pouty expression from earlier returns, but before you can argue further, your eyes fall on his cock, which you only just notice is free from his sweatpants. it's bigger than any you've seen videos of online before, with a prominent vein running down the length and pearly rivulets of pre-cum leaking from the pudgy tip.

your mouth falls into a small 'o' shape, a sudden sense of dread filling you at the mere thought of trying to take that inside of you. why did you have to make this deal with someone who has such an unnecessarily large dick?

toji chuckles deeply at your reaction, cocking his head to the side with a smug smirk. "what? don't tell me you're g'nna chicken out on me now, sweets?"

you could just smooth down your skirt, hand him your credit card as payment for what he's done for you already, and walk right out of his room the way you came in.

but you don't. you've come too far already to back out now — you're this close to finally losing your virginity.

"no," you murmur meekly, swallowing thickly and tearing your eyes away from his cock and meeting his eyes again. "i don't wanna stop. it's just... is that thing really gonna fit in me?"

he barks out an amused laugh at this, his rough palms on your thighs squeezing in what's probably his way of giving you a reassuring gesture. "it'll fit, baby. i loosened you up a little already, so that'll help."

"okay," you mutter, your eyes flickering back down as he wraps a large hand around the meaty base of his cock, lining it up with your entrance and rubbing it along your puffy folds, gathering some of your creamy slick on the head. "is it gonna hurt? it's gonna hurt, isn't it?"

toji huffs at your hurried rambling, leaning his head down to shut you up with a quick kiss to your lips. "it'll only hurt at the start," he grunts in as soothing a tone as he can muster, bracing a hand against the headboard above you.

this seems to ease your nerves, if only a little, and you nod in a sign of silent permission. but he doesn't appear satisfied with this, and he grasps your chin with his free hand. "that ain't good enough, dollface. use your words f'me."

"y-you can start now." you murmur in response, your eyes glued to the way the muscles in his arm flex above you as he begins to slowly push himself in.

"fuckin' shit," he groans, the sound more guttural than anything he's let out so far as his cock breaches the first ring of muscle inside of you, his beefy arm visibly shaking as he tries to hold himself back from just plunging all the way in. "so damn tight in here."

your face contorts into a grimace as a rush of pain pangs through your body, your hands clutching at the sheets for purchase. you'd heard about it hurting online, but then again, most people didn't take a cock as big as toji's for their first time.

"sorry, babydoll." he mutters hoarsely, his gruff tone holding an underlying tone of genuine sympathy instead of the amusement he's shown so far — he's clearly aware of the strain he's having on your body.

he gives you a few moments to adjust to the intrusion, gritting his teeth to hold back any sounds that threaten to spill out of his mouth when he feels your cunt clenching and unclenching around him.

"you can keep going now," you manage to say, your eyes screwed shut and your hands fisted in the bedcovers as you try to deal with the pain. "i'm okay."

he grunts in response, the hand that was around your chin moving to grasp one of your balled up hands as he continues to sink himself inside inch by inch. he can feel how hard you squeeze his hand the entire time, probably cutting off the circulation to his arm in the process.

but he couldn't care less about that. not when he so close to finally being balls deep inside of his pretty little roommate.

"biiiig stretch." toji hums, a low, drawn out sound, when he finally feels himself bottom out, your spongy walls contracting and fluttering around him as if they can't decide whether to push the intrusion out or pull it in deeper. "there we go."

you, on the other hand, couldn't manage to string together a single syllable. it feels like toji has buried himself into your guts, like he's physically rearranging your anatomy right before your eyes.

toji lets his own eyes flutter shut for a moment, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. he knows you need a while to adjust to taking all of him, but damn if he doesn't want to pound you into the mattress right now.

you let out a strangled groan, wriggling around against the covers as your body stretches to accommodate his sheer size. it feels like he could split you in half without much effort. "p-please... start moving, toji."

"you sure?" he rasps gruffly, his hand gripping the headboard so hard his knuckles have gone completely white. "once i start i prolly won't be able to stop."

"i-i don't care. just..." you begin, unable to even finish the thought when he shifts slightly, unintentionally pushing into you even deeper. "move."

he snorts at your desperation, but the sound turns into something akin to a growl when he pulls out slightly, before shoving himself right back in all the way.

"ah!" you sob pathetically, clinging onto his hand even tighter as he starts to shallowly thrust into you. shit, you're pretty sure you just felt something inside of you snap.

you're officially no longer a virgin.

"yeahhh." toji grunts above you, his lips spreading into a pussydrunk grin as he moves he moves his hips leisurely but expertly. you're starting to understand why his hookups always cry his name so loud through the thin walls separating your rooms.

the initial pain slowly starts to fade, being replaced by an overwhelming sense of pleasure and fullness. you bring your shaky legs up to wrap around his beefy back, your ankles locking against his skin.

"jesus, girl," he groans, his hips subtly stuttering in their pace in response to your actions. "y'er pullin' me in even deeper."

you open your mouth to apologize, or retort, or something, but it comes out as a slurred garble when you feel toji's fat cockhead brush against your cervix.

"uh huhh." he grins smugly, his hand that was interlaced with yours moving down to grip your hip and keep you in place as he quickens his pace slightly. he's being a little gentler than he usually would be just for you, but this is still toji here.

"t-too much!" you cry out, reaching up to grasp onto his bicep above you for some sort of support. your entire body is jolting against the covers in response to his increasingly hard thrusts, your mouth hanging open dumbly.

"nah, dollface," he grunts in protest, his fingers digging into the skin of your hip as if to ground you. "i know y'can take it. doing so damn well f'me."

toji brings his palm up from your hip to slide under your previously bunched up shirt, fondling your breasts and rolling one of your hardened nipples between his fingers.

this makes a loud mewl escape from your throat, your cunt clenching around him in response to the dual sensations. if you thought his tongue made you reach new heights of pleasure, his cock is a completely different beast.

you can already feel something strange stirring in the depths of your stomach. it's not like your previous orgasm, it's unfamiliar — it almost feels like you're about to pee.

"t-toji, feels weird," you slur out, squirming against the covers as you try to hold the rising sensation at bay. "like i'm gonna pee or something. m-maybe y'should pull out."

he barks out a laugh at this, as if he knows something you don't. his hand moves down to pat your stomach, right where the prominent bulge of his cock is moving in and out.

"that means you're gonna squirt, baby." he utters simply, making your eyes widen in surprise. now that's something you've definitely never managed to make yourself do before.

looks like you're gonna be ticking off more than one first from the list today.

"makin' ya squirt for y'er first time," he proclaims cockily, smirking to himself as he effortlessly keeps up the languid rolls of his hips. "i'm damn good, ain't i?"

"i haven't even squirted yet." you grumble, heat flooding to your cheeks in response to his teasing. he's still your annoyingly smug roommate, even when he's fucking you into his mattress.

"key word — yet." toji shrugs in response, his lethal thrusts quickening in pace. his rough palm pushes down right above your bulging tummy, causing you to let out a strangled gasp.

your cunt clenches impossibly tighter around him, your ankles digging into the skin of his back as you feel your second orgasm of the night start to wash over you. "fuck. g-gonna..."

"yeah? c'mon, baby, make a mess all on me." he grunts gruffly, his hand moving down to rub lazy, sloppy circles against your puffy clit, the nub pulsing under his touch.

"tojiiii!" you practically sob, the added stimulation sending you hurling over the edge before you can process it. your vision goes completely white with the intensity of your high, your breaths coming in heavy gasps.

"oh, thattt's it," he hums in satisfaction, lightly patting your pussy as he watches the gushes of clear liquid squirt out, lewdly coating the base of his cock and balls in your essence. "fuckin' good girl."

it only takes him a couple more strokes for toji to know he's close too, and he quickly pulls out, slapping his thick cock against the flushed skin of your tummy and giving it a few final jerks.

as much as he'd love to fill you up, he figures that since you're a virgin, you probably wouldn't be on birth control.

and he's not about take that risk.

toji lets out a low, raspy grunt as he spills his creamy, pearlescent cum all over your stomach, tainting the supple skin with his sticky, oozy mess.

he lazily tugs his boxers and sweatpants back up, wiping some sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand before leaning down and giving your cheek a quick, wet kiss.

then he saunters out of the room, leaving you panting and limp on his bed while he rifles through your purse on the living room table.

"i would've done that for free, by the way." toji mutters amusedly as he pulls out your credit card, waving it tauntingly in front of his face with the smuggest grin yet stretching at his lips. "see ya in thirty six hours, dollface."

i’d like to dedicate my first proper fic to @screampied because her works inspired me to begin writing my own! <3

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

#★sugoroo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #toji zenin #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #anime smut #smut #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader smut

3K notes · View notes

jjslaybank · 3 months ago

Text

mine - rafe cameron

warnings: porn WITH plot, use of degrading language to describe reader ("fucktoy," "slut," "bitch"), unprotected sex

i recommend listening to "it's no good" by depeche mode or "come undone" by duran duran while reading :)

omg this has been in my drafts for probably a MONTH atp 😭 hope you guys like it <3 OH and imagine s2!rafe while reading

please read till the end for a few more notes from yours truly 🥰

🏷list: @slut-4-gojo @booklover-6665 @amel1ee @riaras-everthroner

ward is going to kill him.

fuck it, rafe thinks to himself as he enters a strip club. he clutches the money his father had given him to escape the outer banks tightly to his chest as he surveys the scene in front of him.

he squints his eyes, adjusting to the dim lighting of the room. the whole place smells heavily of sweat and cigarettes. he believes it's the perfect place to find a little fucktoy to help him forget the intense pressure he's currently under.

it was then that he spots you — dancing and humping and grinding against the pole as men throw you money.

"holy shit," rafe mumbles softly to himself, his feet carrying him near to the pole you're dancing with before he even knew what his body was doing. a few men shoot him dirty looks. he never noticed them — his eyes are solely on you.

you're wearing your favorite pair — black, lacy underwear and a matching black pushup bra which pushed your tits higher than normal, deepening your cleavage.

as you notice rafe staring, you give him a wink. his eyes darken.

he needs you.

and he's willing to do whatever was necessary to have his way with you.

"hey, asshole!"

he turns to face one of the men who had rudely greeted him.

"eyes off my damn property."

"what?" rafe asks, squinting at the man. "what do you mean? she's like... like your girlfriend or something?"

the man scoffs. "hell no. just my property for the night."

he holds up a keychain with a singular key attached and a small, white jade stone.

the man nods his head to where you were dancing, oblivious to the conversation. "jade's my little slut for tonight, so i better not see your lousy ass around her. got that?"

rafe growls. no way in hell was he losing this pretty girl to an asshole like him.

"hell no."

the man stands up, slamming his fist down on the table to emphasize the motion. others look on at the commotion.

"i think you oughta learn some manners, boy."

"how much did you pay?" rafe asks, sighing and rolling his eyes as he rubs the bridge of his nose. he had been in too many fights recently. the poor guy just wants to empty his balls into some willing, pretty slut.

"more than you can comprehend."

rafe raises an eyebrow, squeezing the wad of bills ward had given him.

"number."

the man tilts his head, confused. "what?"

"give me a number."

"more than 1k."

"1k," rafe echoes to himself as he shakes his head, the tone in his voice almost mocking. "i have so, so much more than that... that lousy amount you're paying her. hey jade!"

you turn towards him, responding to your stripper name.

"if i pay you more, will you let me fuck you instead of him?"

"depends on the amount," you reply, batting your eyelashes at him as you continue dancing around the pole.

you can barely see his face as you converse, but you can make out the curtain bangs, hunched back, and the furrow of his eyebrows as he flips through his stack of bills.

"5k," rafe says.

your eyes light up and you shrug at the other man who had "bought" you for the night.

"sorry, i'm going with this fine young gentleman tonight." you gesture at rafe.

"you made a deal, bitch!" the man yells. rafe's eyes flash with anger. he grabs the man by his shirt collar.

"she said she's going with me! back the fuck off!"

rafe pushes the man down and he collides with a nearby table. he then frantically fishes a sizable stack of bills from his stash. as he hands it to you and you take it from him, his fingers reach to grab yours - effectively sandwiching the money between your hand and his.

he begins to run but you pause, picking up the key the other man was holding earlier. rafe takes the key from you and heads to the back of the club with you in tow.

the back is a hallway with doors - somewhat like what you'd see at a hotel. names of available women were attached at the top of each door.

"jade," he murmurs, looking at the names of the doors.

"jade," you repeat as an agreement. a good look at the man reveals to you his set jaw and conflicted eyes. you can feel something brewing beneath the surface, but you push it aside. you were told not to be nosy. you were lying if you said you didn't find hin sexy. in fact, to say he was attractive was an understatement.

you pull him to the door marked with your name. you grab the key from his hand as he lets you go and open the door.

the room inside is lit by a single small lamp perched atop a dresser. a bed sits in the middle, taking up most of the small room's space.

"shit," rafe sighs, stepping inside and shutting the door behind him. "just wanted to empty my balls, dammit. no confrontations, no fights..."

he begins to pace around the room. "everyone's fucking after me. like... like everyone wants me gone or dead – or just out of their life. i'm not doing good, man. just gotta... just gotta push it aside and focus on the now, though. like... you know? just gotta man up!"

"hey," you begin calmly. "it's all good. i'm yours for tonight, 'kay?"

rafe sits down at the edge of the bed. you follow suit.

"calm down. i'm here. thanks for the money."

he nods, trying to calm himself. you take his hand. he looks into your eyes with what you think is a hint of vulnerability, but it immediately gets replaced with hunger. his eyes darken, and you liken it to a predator about to pounce on its prey.

rafe grabs your shoulders and lifts you, throwing you face down into the bed. your makeup stains the white sheets.

he paces around the bed, a low hum sounding from his lips. "don't fucking move, jade. you understand?"

"y-yes..." you reply meekly, feeling your panties dampen. being manhandled was something that turned you on more than you realized.

"just be good for me, okay?" rafe asks, his voice trembling slightly as he undos his pants. "such a pretty fucking ass."

you jolt as he slaps the meaty flesh. rafe chuckles lowly.

"i did everything i could to have you, and now you're here. and i'm about to fuck you."

you hear the soft clink of his belt buckle as it hits the floor. your heart skips a beat, your anticipation at its peak.

"but i'm gonna be nice about it," he mutters more to himself than to you. "gonna prep this tight fucking hole."

your bottoms come off with one swift tug, and rafe inhales them deeply, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

"fuuuuccckk," he gasps shakily, his nostrils full of your scent.

he puts his middle finger into his mouth and wets it before slowly sliding it into your wet hole. his eyes nearly roll to the back of his head as he feels your hot, warm walls envelop his finger.

"oh, fuck," you moan, your back arching. the fact that you couldn't see what he was doing turned you on even more.

"give it to me, baby," rafe says, pumping his finger in and out of you faster.

he adds another finger and you gasp.

"that's it," rafe coaxes. "so fucking tight and wet, you slut."

he removes his fingers and positions his cock near your stretched hole, hissing at the contact.

"shit." rafe groans. "fuck, it's gonna feel so good filling this tight cunt up."

he takes a deep breath as he removes his finger and enters you. your eyes roll to the back of your head as you moan loudly.

"fucking hell," rafe growls. "shit, you're so fucking tight!"

he rocks into you, his cock filling you up completely.

"such a pretty fuckin' cunt," he murmurs, leaning down to bite the shell of your ear.

"this cunt," he continues, accentuating his words with harsh thrusts, "is all mine for tonight."

he pants, speeding up his thrusts. "i hope you're on the pill because i'm cumming inside this greedy fuckin' cunt."

you nod, your mind hazy with lust. "mhm, i'm clean and take the pill."

"good girl. see how she fucking sucks in my fat cock, she was made for me. fuckin' cunt was made for me," he mutters through clenched teeth.

suddenly he slips out of you. you cry out.

"fucking turn around. lemme see that pretty face as i fuck you."

you obey immediately. he lands a gentle slap on your ass as encouragment.

"pretty fuckin' girl," he compliments, leaning down to kiss your lips. you kiss him back, savoring the taste of sweat and marijuana on his lips.

as he pulls back, he re-enters you. you both hiss at the feeling.

"i'll never get enough of this fucking cunt, jade," he groans as you feel his balls slapping against you.

"mm," you whimper, about to moan out his name when you realize he never told you what it was. "wh-what's your name?"

"rafe," he answers, accentuating the one syllable with a deep thrust, making you see stars.

the name falls from your lips as a high-pitched moan. it sounds almost natural. he groans at the sound of his name and he thrusts into you faster, feeling his balls tighten.

"fuck, i'm gonna cum, you slut," he hisses through clenched teeth, the words coming out clipped as he revels in the feel of your pussy.

"cum!" you repeat, your brain going blank as you feel the knot in your stomach close to snap. "cum inside my greedy cunt!"

at that rafe thrusts forward, groaning in ecstasy as his cum shoots deep into your pussy. you cry out as you spasm around his cock, milking it for every last drop.

"fuck," he mutters breathlessly, slowly pulling out to marvel at the mess he made. "would you look at that - a properly bred fucktoy."

you're gasping for breath as you come down from your high.

"fucking shit," you mutter, your thighs soaked with rafe's cum as it slides down from your pussy.

"pretty good, eh?" rafe asks, a low chuckle leaving his lips. "i like it messier, though."

"me too," you admit with a small smile, moving your messy hair out of your face.

"i like you," rafe says, lying down beside you. "maybe i should keep you around. what do you think about coming to wilmington with me?"

charm's notes:

first of all, tysm for reading! <3 i've been working on this for so long lmao. anyways, i have this thing on my blog called "horny hours" where you can hope into my inbox (anon is on, dw) and send me horny thoughts you may have about any of the obx boys! feel free to add links to pics/vids/whatever too! don't forget to read my request rules tho to know what i vibe with. lastly if you want to read more of my work, you can check out my masterlist for my previous works as well as others i'm working on.

©️ jjslaybank, 2024.

656 notes · View notes

etherealyoungk · 2 months ago

Text

ramen & fate | boo seungkwan

SUMMARY: in which you meet a rich guy at the convenience store during a late night ramen run.

PAIRING: chaebol!seungkwan x reader

THEMES: strangers to lovers, meet cute kinda

WARNINGS: fluff, use of curse words

WORDCOUNT: 2.4k

A/N: @wheeboo happy birthday my love! this is a little gift from me to you! this is such a silly idea but i thought i'd write it out for you and i hope you like it <3

you walk into the convenience store and walk inside and the faint sound of pop music hums from the speakers overhead, blending with the quiet hum of the refrigerators in the back. you barely notice any of it though because your mission is clear - ramen. you really needed a ramen fix right now.

you make a beeline for the ramen aisle, the craving gnawing at you and nothing else would do now, not after the day you've had. there's a strange comfort in that little cup of noodles, in its simplicity, in the way it tastes exactly how you expected it to. your eyes scan the shelves and you spot your favourite ramen, only to find one left on the shelf. you immediately reach for it without a second thought, but so does someone else.

your fingers brush against another hand, and you pause, startled. your eyes follow the hand, trailing up a crisp white sleeve, past a perfectly tailored suit jacket, until they land on the face of the man reaching for the same cup of ramen. he’s tall so you have to tilt your head slightly to meet his gaze. his expression is cool, almost unreadable, his jawline sharp and sleek, his styled hair making him look like he just walked off the set of some corporate drama.

"oh," you say, blinking as your hand hovers over the cup.

he looks down at you, his brows lifting slightly as if in mild surprise, but he doesn’t immediately pull his hand back. "looks like we’ve got the same taste," he says, his voice smooth.

you blink at him and wrack your brain for a response before you let out a nervous laugh. "well, it is the best one", you reply as you look at him.

he smirks faintly, tilting his head. "i agree, but there’s only one left."

there’s a pause, the moment stretching out as both of you keep your hands over the cup of ramen and suddenly this feels like some sort of high-stakes negotiation situation.

"i—uh—had a long day," you say, trying to justify your claim, though you immediately feel silly for doing so. "i really need this ramen".

his smirk softens into something resembling amusement. "and you think i don’t?", he counters, raising a brow at you. "i’ve had back-to-back meetings since seven this morning", he says.

"well, i’ve been running around non-stop too", you protest, your grip on the edge of the shelf tightening. his gaze flickers between you and the ramen before he exhales, and lets out a small resigned sigh and to your surprise, he takes his hand away.

"alright," he says, stepping back slightly. "you win, take it", he says as his hand swings down. "really? thanks," you say, though your tone is cautious, like you’re not entirely sure this isn’t some kind of trick.

he gives you a small nod, then glances at his watch, grabbing a different ramen from the shelf and walking to a different aisle without sparing you another glance. you blink, a little confused but get about on your mission to get the ramen. you grab a few more stuff, some kimbap and something to drink and make your way to the cash counter when you spot the man in the suit again.

"i'm sorry sir, but i don't have change for such a big bill", you hear the worker say. "unless you buy items for that amount, i don't really have a way to give you back your change", the worker continues.

you walk front and put your stuff on the counter. "i'll pay for his stuff", you say and he looks at you.

"i've got it, i'm sure i have smaller bills somewhere", he says as he pulls out his wallet and your eyes nearly pop out with the fat wad of cash you see in it, all big bills. what the fuck. you decide to ignore what you just saw and by the time the man in the suit is digging his wallet, you've already paid for your stuff, his included.

you take your things and towards the corner of the store to cook your ramen. once the ramen is done, you take a seat and that's when the man in the suit appears again. he’s got his own ramen cup in hand, the sleeve of his tailored suit pushed up slightly to reveal an expensive looking watch. he moves methodically, peeling back the lid of his ramen cup and pouring in the hot water with a steady hand, there's no hesitation and no fumbling. he catches your gaze, and you quickly look away, suddenly very interested in your own noodles. you can feel his eyes on you for a moment, but then he goes back to his ramen, silent and composed. you sneak another glance at him and think to yourself - he is pretty handsome.

you’re halfway through your noodles, the warm broth hitting just the right spot on a cold night before you hear the shuffle of footsteps coming towards you.

"mind if i sit?" he asks, his voice smooth and you nod. he sits down with a kind of effortless grace, setting his ramen down in front of him and adjusting his sleeves like he’s dining at a michelin-star restaurant instead of a dingy convenience store. you focus on your noodles, hoping he won’t notice the way your gaze keeps flickering back to him and you watch as he stirs his ramen and takes a bite.

"you didn’t have to pay for my stuff, you know," he says after a bite, breaking the silence.

"it’s not a big deal," you reply with a shrug. "maybe you should carry smaller bills next time", you tell and you can see the faint smile on his face.

"i swear i thought i had change on me", he says, rather to himself.

"doesn’t seem like you need to worry about it," you remark before you can stop yourself. “i mean, with a wallet like that.”

his smile widens slightly, and he leans back in his chair, resting an elbow casually on the table. "appearances can be deceiving," he says, his tone teasing but with an undercurrent you can’t quite place.

you raise an eyebrow. "right, and expensive suits and fat wads of cash are just a camouflage?", you ask.

"something like that," he replies, and there’s a glimmer in his eyes now like he’s enjoying this back and forth talk, like he's amused by you.

you huff out a soft laugh as you shake your head. "well, next time you’re low on change, i suggest hitting the ATM before wandering into a convenience store", you tell and he nods.

"noted," he says, and there’s a warmth to his voice now.

"i’d like to pay you back", he says after a moment, but you shake your head.

"that's not necessary," you reply, waving a dismissive hand. "it’s just ramen", you say.

and he just looks at you, and it looks like he wants to say something more, but he settles for giving you a small smile instead. "alright, if you’re sure".

after finishing his meal, he gathers his things, straightens his perfectly tailored suit and offers you a polite, "thanks again," before leaving.

you think that’s the last you’ll see of him, until you notice something on the table, his sleek black leather wallet, the kind that practically screams expensive. your eyes widen as your hands reach out for it and you mutter under your breath.

grabbing the wallet, you flip it open and find a few crisp bills (all large denominations, of course), some credit cards and a single business card tucked inside, but there's no name, just a logo and a phone number. you hesitate for a moment before you decide to call the number, but it goes straight to voicemail.

for the next few days, you keep the wallet with you, figuring he’ll eventually call back or text or come looking for it, but nothing. it’s not until a few days later, when you’re rushing through a crowded sidewalk with a bag of groceries in one hand and your phone in the other, that fate decides to intervene. you’re trying to balance too many things at once, not paying attention to where you’re going, when you collide hard into someone coming from the opposite direction. the impact sends your phone clattering to the ground and your grocery bag spilling open. "oh, come on!" you groan, crouching to pick up your things.

"sorry about that", a familiar voice says, and you freeze mid-reach.

you glance up to see him, the ramen guy, in his perfectly tailored suit guy, crouching down to help. he looks as polished as ever, his suit immaculate despite the chaos of the street and he notices you at the same time, and his eyes widen slightly.

"you," he says, clearly surprised.

"you," you reply, just as surprised. "i've been looking for you, you left this", you say after you've gathered all your groceries and stand up. you dig into your bag and bring out his wallet, handing it over to him.

his expression shifts. "i didn’t even realize it was missing until yesterday, but by then, i figured it was gone for good", he says as he looks at you.

"well, lucky for you i found it,” you say as you hold it out for him. he takes it from you, his fingers brushing yours briefly, and his smile softens. “you have no idea how much this means, thank you", he says

"you’re welcome," you reply and he looks down at the wallet in his hand, then back at you.

“i owe you, again", he says. "let me buy you dinner, it's the least i can do, please", he asks and you blink, caught off guard.

"dinner? that's...", you trail off as you chew on your lip, considering his offer. "but you don't even know me?", you say, unsure.

"i'll take my chances", he says, a small smile playing on his lips.

“alright,” you say, nodding. “dinner sounds nice.”

the smile that spreads across his face is slow and warm, like sunlight breaking through clouds and it softens his polished, professional look, making him seem boyish almost.

"i didn't get your name", you ask.

"i'm seungkwan", he says, holding out his hand and you reach for it, shaking it, the warmth of his hand engulfing you. "yn", you say, giving him a small smile.

you both exchange numbers and you head home, and it's only then that you wonder if he'll actually follow through. and a few days later, your phone buzzes with a text from him.

ramen guy: this is seungkwan, does friday evening work for dinner? let me know what time works for you.

you reply quickly and his response comes almost immediately.

ramen guy: perfect, i’ll take care of everything, looking forward to it.

when friday arrives, you find yourself standing in front of the address he sent—a restaurant that looks like it was plucked straight from a luxury travel magazine. the building is sleek and modern, its glass walls shimmering in the golden hour light. your nerves spike as you step through the grand entrance and suddenly you're thinking that this must be some kind of joke, that he must have sent you the wrong address by mistake because holy shit, you could barely afford this place. a host greets you with a warm smile when you walk inside. “you must be here for mr. boo seungkwan” they say, their tone polite but knowing. boo seungkwan?

the person guides you towards a private dining room and it's a beautifully set table near the window that overlooks the city skyline. you spot him waiting there and he stands up the moment he spots you, a smile lighting up his face.

he was wearing an all-black suit, and it was perfect for him, tailored to perfection, the fit making him incredibly handsome and attractive and the fit made him look effortlessly sophisticated, yet there was an ease to his posture that made him seem grounded. his dark hair was styled just enough to look intentionally tousled, a few stray strands falling over his forehead. there was something about the way he carried himself, confident but not cocky, poised but not stiff. his smile was the same: genuine and unpretentious, like he wasn’t trying to impress anyone, yet somehow, in that black suit, he couldn’t help but leave an impression.

“you made it,” he says, his tone warm as he steps forward to pull out your chair for you. "yeah", you say softly, still trying to take in the posh ambience around you.

as the evening unfolds, you’re surprised by how easy he is to talk to. he’s incredibly down-to-earth and he listens intently, laughs at your jokes, and is just so sweet, a complete gentleman. his genuine interest in you, paired with his relaxed nature, made the evening feel warm and comfortable and didn't make you feel intimidated anymore.

“so, what exactly do you do?”, you ask, looking at him.

he hesitates for a moment, then shrugs lightly. “family business,” he says, clearly trying to downplay it. “it’s not that exciting.”

"so what exactly is this family business?", you ask but seungkwan only chuckles softly in response. "it's not as cool as you think. let’s just say it's a lot of paperwork, meetings, and business stuff", he makes an exaggerated motion of his hands like he was emphasizing the mundanity of it all. the date ends on a good note and he even offers to drop you home, but you decline, not wanting to impose on him anymore.

it isn’t until days later, when you’re scrolling through your phone that you stumble across an article and you realize just who he is.

heir to the boo family conglomerate, boo seungkwan spotted at his newest restaurant with someone: who’s the mystery guest?

your jaw drops as your eyes scan the article, which details his family’s massive business empire—including restaurant chains, luxury hotels, and even media companies. the photo accompanying the article shows him stepping out of the very restaurant where you had dinner with him, wearing the same outfit he had that evening, looking effortlessly handsome and polished as always.

and just then your phone buzzes with a new message from him at that exact moment:

ramen guy: i hope you enjoyed the dinner last time. let me know when you’re free again, i owe you another one.

taglist: @joshuaahong @paindivinemp3 @fallingforshua29 @itsveronicaxxx @frankenstein852

@weird-bookworm @mirxzii @naaaaafla @wheeboo @icyminghao

@lvlystars @gyubakeries @wootify @ihrtboo @n4mj00nvq

@yoozuku

#skye's writing!#caratlibrary #k-labels #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen drabbles #seventeen soft hours #svt imagines #svt ff #skye thoughts #svt fluff #svt fanfic #svt scenarios #svt x reader #seungkwan imagines #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan x reader

749 notes · View notes

rafesbabyg1rl · 3 months ago

Note

Private session part2 is needed!! We all know Barry can be a dick head and he actually considers adding the having sex with a stripper option to customers when y/n finds out about this she obviously mad and saying no but when rafe finds outs about this he’s obviously mad and goes to Barry pissed saying wtf is this he obviously dose not want y/n to have sex with anyone else but him

Private Session - part two

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Summary: Rafe likes to watch reader while she works as a stripper. He asks for a private session in which he'll pay a large amount for her time. Rafe takes her home and uses her however he pleases. When he finds out Barry has been selling you to customers, he gets jealous, insisting that you must not sleep with anyone else.

Pairings: Stripper!Reader X obsessive!Rafe

Warnings: Rafe is obsessive of reader. Reader is a stripper. Mention of drugs (Rafe and Barry do cocaine), bondage (reader is tied up), p in v, unprotected sex, language, SLIGHT degradation, praise, oral (f receiving), fingering. SMUT SMUT SMUT!

Word Count: 4.8k

Author Note: Hey babes! I got this idea from this GIF , like just imagine he's sitting in the strip club throwing dollar bills at you like that. This fic is NOT proofread, it's almost FIVE AM and I have school tomorrow, well, today I guess...UGH. I just got this request and had to write this!! Also thank you all for the support on part one?!?!?! That's INSANE, I love you guys! I wanted to get this out asap for y'all. Sorry if it's actually shit, I'm so tired and also high. If you see any errors please feel free to correct me kindly! Thanks!

I promise I will work on The Watcher; I just got a bit stuck. Thank you guys for reading, I hope you enjoy! I love you all and stay freaky!

Credits: GIF from this post

Some time has passed since your ‘private session’ with Rafe. The first time you’d come back to work after your session with Rafe, Barry had talked to you at the beginning of your shift. Apparently, after seeing how much Rafe paid you for just one hour alone with him, Barry was inspired. He had told you that the club will now be providing a new “service” to well-paying customers. Customers now have the option to have sex with the dancers for the right price. Barry knew better than to sell his girls out for cheap, so the cost is rather high. And there’s typically only two types of men that have both the means and the money for it: the rich, old sugar daddies who probably can’t even get it up on their own and the rich, horny assholes of the island, take Rafe for example.

When Barry had told you this, you were pissed. This was not in your job description; you’re a stripper not a hooker. You wanted to yell at him and quit. The issue is that when you got this job, you had signed a contract with Barry stating that you’d have to work there for at least a year or else you’d have to pay a fee. Knowing Barry, it’s a ridiculously large fee, ensuring that no one quit before their year was up. And it’s likely that the contract he made you sign isn’t even legal. But you're not going to try and find out, knowing that even if it’s not, that doesn’t matter to Barry. He’ll make you pay. And you don’t have that kind of money, that’s why you’re in this position in the first place.

Over the next few weeks, you’ve noticed that Rafe hasn’t been coming in as much. Not while you’re working at least. The few times he has come in, he hasn’t been alone, always coming in with a few other kooks and barely paying any attention to you. Which is definitely not normal for Rafe. You just assume that since he’s had you now, he’s lost his interest. You expected that you’d be relieved when he finally stopped watching you like prey, but now you’re not exactly sure what you feel. Does he not find you attractive anymore? Did he just lose interest after finally getting what it is that he had craved for so long? God, was it just you; did he see who you really are and run in the opposite direction? You knew that whole experience with him was too good to be true.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts as you hear the door to the back room open. Quickly, you grab one of the dresses hanging in your locker and slip it over you; it’s what Barry told you to wear over your lingerie when you do at-home sessions with clients. You turn, watching as your boss and none other than Rafe Cameron stumble in through the door. Rafe goes quiet, his expression going dead as he lays eyes on you.

“Lookin’ good”, Barry whistles. “Where you headed, princess?” He asks as he turns away from you, sitting on a chair. Barry leans back in his seat, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small baggie full of white powder. You’ve always ignored his side business, always pretending you don’t see any of it. Which is what you do right now. Trying your hardest to ignore the fact he’s preparing a line on the small, glass coffee table, you finish up what you’re doing and close your locker a bit harshly.

“I have a client waiting.” You snap. You walk closer to where Barry is sitting and turn your back to him. “Tie me?” You ask, holding your hair up and waiting for him to tie the complex strings of your backless dress. Though he’s currently busy doing a line of cocaine. Without hesitation, Rafe steps closer, his fingers moving to tie your dress. You don’t have to see him to know he’s the one tying your dress. Your skin just immediately remembers his touch, causing chills to run down your spine at the flashbacks of that night. Rafe notices your slight shiver and smirks as he tries to figure out how the straps of your dress go. His hands linger on the skin of your lower back for longer than they need to and your breath hitches each time his skin comes into contact with your own.

When he’s done, he sits on the couch across from Barry, facing you. You turn back to them, not bothering to thank him. To be honest, you’re a bit pissed at him for starting this whole sex with customers thing. You know he didn’t intend to, but he’s the one who gave Barry the idea.

Barry speaks up again as he wipes the excess powder from his nose. “When will you be back, I need you out on the floor.”

I can’t do fucking everything, you think. Although your words come out much more politely. “It’s an at-home appointment so probably an hour.” You’ve had this client before, he typically finishes pretty quick.

You hear Rafe’s loud breathing as he snorts a line which grabs your attention, making you briefly turn your head to look at him. You watch as he leans back, shutting his eyes and inhaling deeply as his high takes over. Rafe slouches in his seat, spreading his legs wide, making you quickly look away. Of course he notices how you’re reacting to him, he always notices everything about you. He crosses his arm and lets out a small sigh.

Rafe’s tone is sharp as he cuts in. “At-home?” He questions, still trying to act as though he doesn’t care about the conversation you and Barry were having.

Barry’s eyes linger on you for a moment, taking in the sight before turning to look at Rafe. “We now offer a new service: you can fuck any of ‘em bitches now.” You make a face at Barry’s words, not liking how he described you and the other girls. Usually he’d never say that in the presence of one of his “bitches”, but Rafe and Barry always brought out the worst in each other; their behavior much worse when they’re together.

“Wait, what?!” He asks, sitting up a bit before calming himself down. He leans back against the couch, trying to seem all nonchalant. “So, they’re hookers?” He questions more calmly as he looks over to you. You recall having to tell him you weren’t a hooker the last time you saw him. You scowl, hating that he’s trying to prove you wrong and rub it in.

“Hookers, bitches, call ‘em whatever you want. I should thank you for giving me the idea. I mean, do you have any idea how much money this is making me.” Barry boasts. “And miss pretty princess over here is our top money maker.” Barry gestures to you as you stand there, waiting for your chance to leave. “She brings in the most customers. Ain’t that right, darlin’?” You nod. Everytime Barry gets high, he doesn’t fucking shut up. Rafe just nods his head dryly, leaning down to snort another line of the white substance from the table.

You take this as your queue to leave and you walk out through the door and back into the main part of the club. You walk through the crowd and search for your client. Leaving Rafe with a few moments to think in silence before Barry starts yapping about all the guys you’ve been fucking. Rafe is fucking furious with this new addition to the club. He had never intended for Barry to take inspiration from his actions, he just needed you. And now anyone else who wants you, can have you. How is it that you could say that you don’t go home with guys often, and turn around and go fuck a bunch of guys for a living right after? Was he just another client to you? Rafe can’t take it anymore and decides to take action. He shoots up from his seat on the couch and storms after you.

As you’re walking, you feel a hand grip your arm and spin you around. You’re almost chest to chest with Rafe as he speaks down to you. “Where the hell are you going?”

“I have a client.” You explain, again.

“The fuck you mean ‘a client’?”

“You’re not the only one who’s willing to pay just to fuck me, Rafe.” You say coldly.

He chuckles, responding sarcastically as he stares down at you with his wide, dilated eyes. “Thought you never went home with random guys?”

“I didn’t. Until you gave Barry the idea of selling me out to strangers for a quick buck.”

Rafe sighs, his grip on your arm loosening. “That’s not what I wanted. I mean c’mon, you think I want other guys fucking you?”

The implication in his words shock you, but you try not to read too much into it. Before you get the chance to respond he lets go of your arm, letting out a deep breath and shaking his head. Without question, he pulls his wallet out from his pocket, flipping it open and looking up at you. “How much is he gonna pay?” You stare at him blankly, confused in what he’s doing. He huffs out a long breath shutting his eyes for a second before bringing one hand up to snap in your face, grabbing your attention. “The guy, your…” his hand waves around in the air, gesturing outwards as he momentarily stutters. “...Client, or whatever. How much was he going to pay you?” He speaks more slowly this time, as if you’re stupid or something.

“Depends.” You answer. The client you’re supposed to be meeting right now didn’t have an exact time planned, but you know how much he typically has the stamina for.

He purses his lips, shifting on his feet. “Ballpark.” He demands. His gaze darted between your eyes, constantly shifting to look at both.

Still confused, you hesitantly respond to his question, stuttering as you speak. “$800.” Immediately, he starts to count the money in his wallet, taking out the eight-hundred and then some. Rafe hands the cash out to you, but you don’t take it right away so he tucks it into the low cut neckline of your dress.

“There, now I take priority.” He takes hold of your arm again and drags you through the club and out into the parking lot. He walks you up to his truck, which you can now recognize. Rafe pulls the passenger door open for you and walks around to his side, climbing in and starting the engine. You know to get in, shutting the door behind you and buckling your seatbelt before looking over at him. Your stomach tightens as his eyes undress you. Rafe finally turns his head away, reaching over his shoulder to grab his seatbelt. Suddenly, it’s like the image registered in his brain and he whipped his head back to you, glaring at your thighs.

You noticed him staring at you, looking down into your lap. The super short dress you were wearing has ridden up, revealing the few hickeys that are spread over your inner thighs. His eyes find the others on your neck as well and he knows he wasn’t the one to leave them. You try to keep your customers from leaving hickeys and other marks in your body, but it’s like the more you tell them not to, the more they want to. It makes Rafe almost sick to his stomach when he thinks about kissing you with those marks; marks left on your skin from other men. He can’t stand it. Suddenly his mind is filled with images of you fucking other guys, he tries to shake out the thoughts but he can’t; they’re eating away at him. The two lines of cocaine from earlier not helping the situation, it only serves to intensify his anger.

As he drives he looks over at you. He starts to rant, his voice booming inside the small tuck cabin. “Bet they can’t make you cum four fuckin’ times in an hour, can they?” You only slightly jump when he startles you with the increasing volume of his voice. “They can’t fuckin’ touch you like I can, huh?” He glances at the road shortly, then he turns his head back to you. “Nobody makes you feel as good as I do, yeah?” He waits for a response.

You catch the hint. “Mhm…yeah.” You nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

When you get to Tanneyhill, Rafe comes to an abrupt stop in his driveway. He wastes no time before getting out of the truck and rounding the front of it to get to your side. Rafe pulls the passenger seat door open, grabbing ahold of your arm again. He tugs you inside, shutting the door behind you two.

As soon as you hear the door shut, his lips are finding yours and attacking them. In the moment, he decides that his bedroom upstairs is too far and he takes you into the kitchen. He continues to kiss you, walking you backwards until your lower hips bump into the counter; in which he grabs your waist and lifts you up to sit on the counter. One of his hands finds its way underneath your dress and between your legs. In quick movements, he tugs your lacy thong down and off of your body. Once they hit the floor, he’s pulling your legs apart; forcing them to spread wide so that you’re exposed and accessible to him. Your pussy grows wet in anticipation of what he’s going to do to you; which is something that none of the other men have been able to make you feel.

Rafe brushes a light hand over your cunt, groaning into your mouth as he discovers how wet you are for him. Not some random guy at the club, but him. He continues to kiss you, swallowing the small moans that try and escape your lips. His hands move to his belt, working on getting it off. Once it’s off, he pulls his jeans down and steps out of them; only breaking the kiss once. The next thing to go in his boxers; he slides them down and lets them pool at his ankles.

With absolutely no warning or further preparation, Rafe slams into you. You choke out a moan, tilting your head back. Rafe starts to kiss the sensitive spot behind your ear just so that your cunt can squeeze around him even tighter as he jackhammers into you. “Fuuck…so tight.” He groans. “Did anyone else fuck you like this, hm? Did anyone else’s cock stretch you out like this?” He growls into your ear. His hand snakes around to the back of your head, gathering all your hair and tugging your head back so that you were looking at him. “That was a fucking question. Fucking answer.” He demands.

“I…”, you cry out as his cock repeatedly hits the extra sensitive spot deep inside you. A spot that nobody else can reach like how he does. “N-no…just you.”

“Just me, what?” He continues, enjoying your struggle to form words as he fucks you at this pace.

“Just you can fuck me like this.” You admit. You’re not even saying it because he wants you to, but because you can honestly say that nobody’s ever fucked you like how he’s fucked you.

“Good girl.” He praises. He runs a hand through your hair and slows his speed to a very slow, careful pace, admiring your features as your face contorts with pleasure. After about a minute, his hand finds your clit, his fingers rubbing harsh circles as his thrusts speed up to an unbearable pace again. He places a hand on your chest, pushing you down so that you’re laying with your back flat on the counter.

The cold counter adds to the intense feeling. He pauses for a moment to pull your shiny, little dress up past your hips to keep it out of the way. When he continues, he’s drilling into you faster than before, giving you the last bit of his anger through his thrusts. Your back begins to arch off the counter, legs wrapping around his waist tightly. And just as you’re about to see stars, Rafe pulls out of you and steps back, pulling his boxers back up from his ankles.

An involuntary whine escapes your lips when his touch leaves you and you sit up on your elbows, trying to figure out why he stopped. Except he doesn’t say anything, he just lifts you up, carrying you upstairs and into his bedroom.

When you get into his room, he sets you down just before the bed. “Shit, I almost forgot.” He mumbles. You furrow your brows and follow his gaze to his bed. On his bed sits a small gift box. You look back at him to find him staring at you. “Open it.” The demands, his tone almost displaying a small trace of excitement.

You look back at the box, taking a few steps closer to the bed. You reach out to flip over the small tag on the box, it reads: ‘To: my favorite hooker’. Your breath hitches. He’s so frustrating with his persistence of using that word, ‘hooker’, when he knows you aren’t one. Well, you didn’t used to be one. But you have to admit, this seems almost…sweet, in a way. Sweet for Rafe anyhow. You fight back your smile as you reach both hands out, carefully lifting the lid off of the box, setting it on the bed. Inside the box lay some very beautiful, intricate lingerie; it’s clearly very expensive, judging on the fact that you can’t even pronounce the brand name.

Rafe explains, “For what I ripped last time. I told you I’d replace it.”

“You did.” You say, getting lost in his eyes for perhaps a moment too long.

“Take it out.” He instructs and you obey, taking the delicate lingerie out of the gift box. Underneath the set, you find another gift. A vibrating wand as well as some thick ribbon. The vibrator you understand, the ribbon…not so much. You hold some of it up, turning to face him as if asking ‘what’s this for?’. Rafe understands what you’re asking and he responds vaguely. “You’ll see.” Clearly he enjoys keeping you on your toes, and you hate it.

After changing into your new lingerie, you exit his bathroom and walk towards his bed. Quickly he has you laying on your back. He takes some ribbon from the box and straddles your waist leaning over you as he ties each of your wrists to a separate bed post. He then did the same with your feet. Now you’re all tied up for him, spread out on the bed and vulnerable.

He leans down, hovering over you. He starts to kiss all over your body, his lips finding any open spot of skin on you. He pauses his kisses for a moment, leaning back up enough to look at you. He tells you, “Don’t wear this at the club.” Rafe leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your chest. “This is for me, yeah?” He mumbles, giving you yet another kiss. “My eyes only.” you nod in response, you agree. This is way too expensive to be wearing to the club.

“Yes, yes, only you.” You desperately plead.

Rafe chuckles and starts to kiss down your body, He makes a momentary stop at your chest, mouthing over one of your nipples through the thin fabric, his fingers rolling your other nipple between his fingers. His actions elicit a loud moan to escape your lips as your body tenses up, struggling against the restraints. You now understand the ribbon. Last time, he had used rope to tie you up and it would painfully dig into your skin. But the ribbon was soft, not causing pain to be inflicted upon you as your body reacts to his actions. His mouth leaves your breast, moving to the other side, ensuring that it wasn’t left out. His hand also switches to pinch at your other nipple.

His mouth starts to travel down your body again as his hand reaches behind him on the bed to grab something. He mouths over your clothed cunt, making you whine and shiver underneath him; still sensitive from when he had teased you earlier on the kitchen counter.

You hear a vibrating sound, but before your brain could register what it is, he’s using the new vibrator he bought for you, on you. He presses it firmly against your clit through the fabric of your panties. Your arms tug at the restraints in response, your legs trying, and failing to close. You feel so vulnerable, so exposed and weak. Lying here helpless as he assaults your small bundle of nerves.

Rafe pulls your panties to the side, revealing your dripping cunt. He pushes the vibrator directly on your clit, sending a jolt of electricity through your body at the sensation. “F-fuck!” You cry, your abdominal muscles contracting as your eyes squeeze shut and your toes curl. Rafe leans in, using his tongue to lap up the juices that drip from your slick entrance as he keeps the vibrator steady on your most sensitive part. “Rafe!” You scream his name out as you cum, finally seeing the stars you were denied earlier, the build-up making it that much more intense.

He pulls the vibrator away, only using his tongue to work you down from your high. When your body starts to relax more, he stops and moves back up your body. He sets the vibrator aside and kisses at your neck, leaving new marks of his own; darker and larger than the others.

You’re still in shock at Rafe’s decision to use a toy on you. You definitely weren’t mad about it, that’s for sure. It’s just that typical guys won’t want to use a vibrator on you because they want to prove they’re better all by themselves. Rafe’s definitely good at sex, that’s just a given fact. But the confidence he has to use a vibrator on you, mixed with his skill…he’s fucking incomparable.

Rafe unties your wrists, letting your arms fall and relax. Next he moves to untie the ribbon that ties your feet to the bed. Once you’re completely free, he gives you a moment, knowing how tiring that was for your body. He knows you need to recover if he wants to get more orgasms from you tonight.

Though you appreciate his generosity, you want to help him out too. So you take him by surprise by placing your hand over his hard cock through his boxers. Except he still manages to be the one surprising you when he speaks. “Fuck…that feels…s’so good baby.” He groans, but moves your hand off his dick. “But let me take care of you, yeah? I know Barry’s got you workin’ a lot, hm? Heard you’ve got the most customers, is that right?” He asks, his hands starting to squeeze and massage at you calves

“Mhm…” you agree, closing your eyes in relaxation.

Rafe’s hands move to massage your feet, knowing the tall heels you’re always wearing have to be causing you some discomfort. And he knows he assumed correctly when you let out a deep sigh at his touch. “Nobody ever takes care of you, hm? Always just taking what they want and giving you nothing?” He leans in closer to your ear and whispers, “I like taking care of you.” Rafe starts to nip softly at your ear, making you moan softly.

After a while, his hands leave your feet, moving back up your body. He gently pulls off the lingerie, setting it on the bed beside you two. He takes a moment to revel in the sight of you, taking in what he is lucky enough to have in front of him. One of his hands finds its way to your slimy folds, gently running over your entrance. He gathers some of your slick and brings it up to your clit as he begins to rub it in steady, slow circles.

Finally, he pulls his boxers off. He uses his other hand to hold himself at the base, gently stroking himself a few times as he looks down at you underneath him. Without much more preparation, he pushes himself inside of you. This time, he moves slowly. His mind isn;t clouded from the effects of cocaine and anger anymore, instead he just wants to help you feel good. He wants to take him time, even though you’re likely not going to last long after your previous orgasm.

“Shit, so fuckin’ wet f’me. You’re always so wet for me, hm? Such a good girl. Such a good fuckin’ girl.” He groans, his mouth right next to your ear so you can clearly hear all his praises. “M’gonna have to talk to Barry for you. Can’t have you fuckin’ those other guys anymore. This pussy’s for me; it’s mine.” His speed gets faster, his pace more erratic as you get closer, your cunt squeezing around him tighter; ultimately bringing him closer to finishing as well. “Hm? You hear me?”

“Mhm…” you nod eagerly, getting so close to cumming that you can barely form a complete thought. “Y-yes Rafe. Yours, fuck! Yours.”

He gathers all your hair, tugging on it so that your neck cocks back, giving him full access to mark it up. He leaves wet, sloppy kisses all over your neck; sucking and biting at your skin. “Only a slut for me, right? Nobody else, not anymore.”

“Yes…sure, fuck, okay yeah!” You scream. The recognizable feeling of your stomach tightening just for the band to snap, making your back arch off the bed, pushing your body against his as you reach another orgasm. “Ohh…nngghh…f-fucking shit!” You curse, your hand clawing at his shirt, trying to take it off. Rafe understands what you need and does it for you.

It’s not long before he gets to his peak with the way you keep squeezing him; so wet that he just slips right in and out. But before he cums, he asks you a final question. “Can I?”,is all he says but it’s enough for you to know what it is that he’s asking. He’s already done it before, so you don’t see the problem, especially not right now. You don’t even have it in you to say no even if it was what you wanted,

“Mhm…please. Please cum inside me, Rafe. I-I need it.” You admit.

Without wasting another second, Rafe’s movements slow down as he releases his load in you; painting your walls white with his cum. You could feel his warm seed spilling out of you, mixing with your sticky juices. When he pulls out, you feel empty. Your lonely cunt left clenching around nothing.

Rafe lies down beside you, wrapping his arms around you. You never had taken Rafe for much of a cuddler, but he’s full of surprises tonight. You return the action, wrapping your arms around him and draping a leg over him.

After you’ve both had time to recover, you still just lie there, enjoying each other's silent company. But you finally decide to break the silence between you two. “Y’know, I have to admit that it is kinda nice to be with someone who can get it up without taking pills.” You joke truthfully, referring to all the old sugar daddies that pay for your services.

Rafe chuckles at your words. He wants to say ‘I told you so’, to prove that he knew nobody else made you feel the same as he did, but fights the urge. Instead he just laughs. “Oh, I bet.”

“Did…did you mean what you said about talking to Barry?” You ask on a more serious note.

Rafe looks at you, admiring your soft, tired, fucked-out expression as he runs a gentle hand through your hair. “Oh yeah, yeah. I can talk to him if you want. He usually listens to me.”

“And if he doesn’t?” You ask.

“Then I’ll make him.” He reassures you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I started this, I’m gonna fix it, okay? So don’t worry. You ain’t gotta fuck nobody you don’t wanna no more, yeah? How’s that sound?”

“Thank you.” You mumble to him, your eyes starting to get heavy and droop shut.

“I hope that means you’ll still fuck me.” He teases, petting your soft hair as he watches you.

You just nod, too exhausted to engage in his jokes. Rafe just smiles softly, appreciating the fact that he has you all sleepy in his bed; his arms. Of all the time he spent watching you and admiring you at the club, he never was able to imagine this moment.

He presses one final kiss to your head before closing his own eyes, pulling you in tighter. “I’ll take you back tomorrow, that alright?”

“Mhm…” You mumble under your breath, already half asleep.

“Goodnight.” He whispers, pulling the covers over the two of you.

Thank you for reading! I greatly appreciate it! PLEASE feel free to leave Rafe x reader requests!! I LOVE getting them!

Again, sorry if this is bad. I'm so tired and too lazy/impatient to proofread/edit. I hope this is good enough to fulfill your request!

660 notes · View notes

starryhyuck · 6 months ago

Text

under his desk. (m)

pairing: ceo!johnny x afab!reader

words: 7.4k+

summary: you discover your new boss has a secret hidden up his sleeve.

genre: smut, fluff

warnings: talks of violence, reader is jaehyun’s sister, rough sex, slight breeding kink, sir kink, public sex, creampies, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, mentions of throat fucking

“I need a job.”

Jaehyun’s mouth is wide open, spoon hovering over a bowl of soup, inches away from sitting on his tongue. His eyes dart up to see your anxious expression, eyebrows pulled together. He sighs, resting his spoon back down before leaning back in his chair.

“So this is why my sister finally reaches out to have dinner with me,” Jaehyun says, running a hand down his face exasperatedly.

“Come on, Jae,” you plead, fingers twisted in the napkin on your lap. A large chandelier hovers over the two of you, illuminating the disappointment gracing Jaehyun’s face. “You know I would never ask you for a favor like this unless I really have to.”

He observes the serious look on your face. It’s been years since you’ve reached out to him, the two of you losing touch after you parted ways when graduating from university. Your brother set off to a successful career in finance, climbing rank until he was nearly at the top, making an enormous amount of money that he had no clue what to do with. You were the opposite, chasing your dream of writing at a huge publishing firm, only to be met with disappointment by a few odd jobs and barely enough cash to cover the bills. You never asked Jaehyun for help even though you both knew you needed it.

He has a contemplative air cast around him, fingers rubbing at his chin lightly.

“I don’t know anyone in the writing world-“

“It doesn’t have to be that,” you immediately interject. You don’t care if he can smell the desperation across the table. “I’ve given up on that dream. I just need something stable, something I don’t have to make backup plans for if it falls through.”

He sighs again. “There is something, but it’s not easy-“

“I’ll take it, Jae. Please, I promise I won’t fuck this up.”

He stares at you for a while, taking in the hunger in your eyes. He hasn’t seen you like this since you graduated, proclaiming that you would become a best-selling writer before the year’s end. Now, you’re simply a girl crushed by the weight of your dreams and chasing a solid figure in your bank account.

“Let me see what I can do.”

—

You straighten your skirt for the umpteenth time, clutching the clipboard to your chest for dear life. The stiletto heels are digging into your feet but you keep your toes as straight as possible, trying your best to look like you know what you’re doing.

The door flies open and you take a deep breath. Johnny Suh walks by you without a word, taking his seat at his desk before finally sparing you a glance. His eyebrow raises at your appearance but he says nothing else.

“Good morning, sir,” you say with a smile. “I have your morning reports here and your daily schedule. Which would you like first?”

“My coffee.”

You pause, the smile slipping off of your face. “Y-Your coffee?”

He’s not amused in the slightest. “Black, no sugar. I expect it on my desk as soon as I walk into this room.”

“Yes, sir.”

A few beats pass. “Well?”

You stumble, racing for the door and exiting his office. You calculate there is absolutely no way you could make it to a coffee shop and be back on time, instead heading for the break room. You exhale as you place an empty cup under one of the high tech machines, waiting patiently as it brews for you.

“You’re the new assistant, aren’t you?” A voice questions. Another man walks into the room, taking a cup for himself and occupying another machine. He outstretches his hand to you. “I’m Doyoung.”

You shake his hand and smile politely, offering your name.

“Nice to meet you,” he says, watching as you carefully take the brewed cup of black coffee from the machine and search for a lid. “How’s the boss so far?”

You chuckle dryly. “Well, it’s my first day and I already forgot his coffee, so I can confidently say it’s not going well.”

He throws you an apologetic look. Before you can exit, he speaks again. “In my experience, Johnny favors resilience over anything. If you can show him that you’re serious about this without making a fuss, then he’ll reward you for the hard work.”

You smile thankfully. After bidding Doyoung goodbye, you make your way back into Johnny’s office, grateful to have met someone willing to help you navigate this job. Jaehyun warned you it would be difficult since Johnny was a particular man, to quote your brother, but you’ve handled much worse than a snooty CEO. You’re not one to back down this easily.

You slide the warm cup across his desk. His eyes are shifted downwards, shuffling through mountains of paperwork. He doesn’t glance up at you as he takes his first sip, lips twisting in a grimace. He turns his torso and points out the windows covering the back wall of his office.

“You’ll pick up my coffee order from that shop going forward,” he instructs. You have no idea what location he’s referring to as the view is just out of your eye line, but you make a mental note to check it later.

You nod obediently before taking your clipboard back into your hands, reciting his schedule for the day.

“You have a meeting with the board of directors at ten, a one-on-one with the CFO of Kim Enterprises at eleven, lunch at twelve, and back-to-back meetings regarding the Baek acquisition after lunch,” you say, handing him the sheet from your clipboard. He takes it roughly, sighing as he glances over it. “Here are the morning reports as well. Anything particular you’re craving for today?”

He regards you carefully, and you squirm underneath his judging gaze.

“You’re Jaehyun’s sister, is that correct?”

You swallow. “Yes, sir.”

He says nothing else in relation to the topic. “A sandwich from the Kim’s shop down the street will be just fine.”

“Yes, sir.”

—

After a few weeks of trial and tribulations, you can safely say you have found your footing as Johnny Suh’s assistant.

He is particular, yes, but you can see now that it is only due to the success of the business. When sitting by his side during his meetings to take notes, you’ve noticed how fast he is to shut down any propositions that seem like a waste of time and only approve ideas that are carefully constructed and thought out. Employees appear to equally fear and respect him, which Johnny was well aware of.

You can’t quite tell if he’s pleased with your work, but he hasn’t issued any complaints since the first day you joined. You ensure a cup of warm coffee from Min’s Market is on his desk every morning and a warm sandwich from the Kim’s is delivered to him by lunch. You made an effort to reorganize the filing system his prior assistant had tried to keep up with, which made both your and Johnny’s day easier whenever you needed to access an important document. You have his work schedule texted to his phone every morning instead of using the old paper route, which you find a lot more efficient, yet unsure if Johnny expresses the same sentiment.

It’s conflicting. You feel as if you’re doing a good job but your boss makes no effort to display praise. The only thing you keep reminding yourself of is Doyoung’s comment about resilience, and how you can expect Johnny to reward you in due time.

A call of your name disrupts your typing on your computer, and you’re quick to rise on your feet as you enter Johnny’s office.

“Yes, sir?”

“Ten just called me on my personal line. Make arrangements in my schedule for me to meet him today.”

“Yes, sir,” you say, writing down the instructions on your clipboard. “Anything else I can do for you?”

He pauses, staring at you thoughtfully. You hate it when he does this because you can never read what’s swimming in his head.

“You’re going to Jaehyun’s engagement party, I assume?”

You were ecstatic when your brother called with the news a week ago. He had known Miyeon since university and they stayed together through all the hectic chaos of Jaehyun’s career. He told you they were holding a small party at their penthouse this Sunday, and you were happy to attend in celebration.

You smile and nod. “Yes, I’ll be there, sir.”

He bobs his head once before waving his hand, dismissing you. You leave in confusion, but that was a normal emotion you felt around Johnny nowadays. You return to your desk and pull up his schedule, locating an empty slot for his meeting with Ten.

“How are you holding up, champ?”

You laugh when Doyoung approaches your desk, twirling a pen in his fingers. He’s made it a habit to check up on you every now and then. Another tidbit you learned when you began working here is that most people did not envy you for your position as Johnny’s assistant. If anything, they pitied you. Doyoung told you bets had been made around the office for when you would quit, to which you replied, “He’s not that bad.”

Doyoung chuckled and said, “Give it a few more weeks.”

Ever since then, he’s been spying on you for the rest of the employees, trying to see when your resolve would crumble.

“I’m still here, Doyoung,” you reply to his question, raising an eyebrow.

He grins. “That you are. Still having a hard time reading him?”

“Who doesn’t?”

He snickers. “Well, if it lifts your spirits at all, we’re heading out for drinks this weekend to take the edge off. Come and join us.”

You normally decline such an invitation as your weekends are reserved for catching up on some much needed rest. However, now that you’ve gotten a solid grasp on Johnny’s workload, you feel like a night of alcohol is exactly what you crave to wind down.

“You know what, I’ll be there.”

His grin stretches wider, and he’s about to speak again before another voice startles you.

“Mr. Kim, what are you doing?” Johnny’s stern voice asks, standing in the doorway of his office. He scrutinizes the both of you and your shoulders tense.

Doyoung scrambles. “M-Mr. Suh! I was just speaking with-“

“I can see that,” he cuts off Doyoung. Johnny narrows his eyes. “Is there a reason you’ve decided to interrupt my assistant’s work for mindless fodder about after-work events?”

“N-No-“

“It’s best if you return to your desk now, hm?”

Doyoung nods frantically, tail tucked between his legs as he nearly sprints out of the room. Johnny turns his attention to you, lips flattened in a straight line.

“I expect you not to waste time by flirting with other members of the work staff.”

Before you can protest, he’s walking back into his office, slamming the door behind him. You slouch in your chair, scoffing at his behavior.

What was his problem?

—

“I like this drink! Do you think they have tiny umbrellas behind the bar? It’ll make me feel like my life isn’t in shambles!”

You giggle at Joohyun, who is rambling loudly in your ear. It’s evident she’s had her fair share of drinks but she shows no signs of stopping.

You’re grateful Doyoung invited you to this outing because it feels like you can finally get to know your other co-workers without the walls of Johnny’s office blocking you. You feel light for the first time in weeks, and you’re not certain if it’s from the alcohol coursing through your veins or the absence of your ill-mannered boss. Either way, you’re reveling in it.

“Alright, truth or dare?”

You giggle, nearly spilling the shot of vodka in your hands. “Are you kidding me? How old are we?”

“Don’t be a sourpuss,” Doyoung says, nearly throwing his straw at you from across the table. “Truth or dare?”

“Hm, truth!”

“Boo,” Donghyuck from the marketing department yells. You pretend to throw your drink in his face and he ducks, making the whole table erupt with laughter.

“Okay, okay!” Sooyoung snickers. “Would you rather be an accomplice to a high profile murder case or fuck up Johnny’s coffee order?”

You shudder at the thought of delivering the wrong coffee to your boss, and the table is in hysterics over your expression.

“Definitely not the last one! He’ll have my head!”

The rest of the night is a blur, filled with more ridiculous dares from Donghyuck and silly questions from Sooyoung. You all part ways in the dead of the night, stumbling into taxi cabs as you wave goodbye. You elect to walk home since your apartment isn’t located too far from the bar. You shiver as the night chill nips at your arms.

You pass by another dimly lit nightclub, thrumming loudly with the sound of the bass. You know you shouldn’t, but you don’t want this night to end and crush the happy feeling in your chest. It’s the first time since university you haven’t had to worry about bills or how much the drinks of the night cost, and it spurs on your temporary foolish behavior. You enter the dodgy nightclub, convincing yourself that one more drink can’t hurt you.

The area is packed with people, namely older men with large builds and tattoos covering their forearms. You flag down a bartender.

“Hey, what’s going on tonight?” You yell over the sound of the music.

“Big fight downstairs,” he says, pointing to a staircase to the left of the bar. “Drinks down there are free for the ladies!”

Your eyebrows raise, and against your better judgment, your feet find themselves moving down the creaky staircase. The music dies down when you finally make it to the bottom, instead being filled with loud chatter from the bulky men around you.

“You’re insane if you think a newbie is going to come along and take out The Destroyer! He’s undefeated, you idiot!”

“All the greats have to fall sometime. Just watch and see!”

You make your way to the bar, which is a little more tattered and ruined than the one upstairs. The bartender’s eyes widen at the sight of you, which befuddles you until he asks, “Fan of The Destroyer?”

“Who?”

Three loud clanging sounds of a bell echo around the room, silencing the chatter. A man in a crisp tailored suit walks out, microphone in his hand. The crowd of people suddenly shuffle around until an empty square is left in the middle of the room.

“Welcome, everyone!” The man in the suit greets, the curve of his lips twisted into a smirk. “We have a great show for you tonight! For anyone looking to place their last minute bets, please locate Mr. Kim by the bar. Trust me, you won’t want to miss a fight this good!” The statement has the mass hollering while you look on in confusion. “Tonight, we have Payback in the left corner here.” The rallies grow louder as a young, lanky man comes forward, raising his fists in the air and encouraging the crowd. He stands to the left of the announcer, bouncing on the balls of his feet animatedly. “And in the right corner, we have the fan favorite, the undefeated, the legendary Destroyer!”

Your body locks up, breath caught in your throat while the room erupts in a deafening applause. Your hand covers your mouth in shock because the man who walks out, hands wrapped in red tape with his torso completely exposed, is none other than Johnny.

You nearly collapse into the bar from surprise, but the bartender reads your body language as something else.

“Incredible, isn’t he?” He says into your ear. “How much do you have on him tonight?”

You fail to respond, your mind whirling into a frenzy. There’s no possible way this could be Johnny — it had to be his long lost twin brother or you could be seeing it all wrong. From this angle though, it looks exactly like your boss, even as he wears nothing but a pair of baggy shorts hugging his waist. Your eyes drink in the litter of tattoos covering his chest, tattoos that are hidden in the daylight with his blazers and button-up shirts.

The announcer says a few more words that go completely over your head before ringing the bell, signaling the start of the fight.

You should go home. You should go home and pretend you never saw any of this. Staying here only implicates you, and you can’t imagine what Johnny would do to you if he found out you knew about his underground secret. You need this job, and staying here increases the chances of you losing it, so why can’t you move? Why can’t you pry your gaze away from the ripple in Johnny’s muscles as he lands the first blow, nearly knocking his opponent to the ground? Why does your throat go dry when he delivers punch after punch, eyes blazed with fury as blood begins running down the other man’s nose? Why do you stay rooted in place when the announcer declares Johnny’s victory, raising his arm high as the crowd cheers?

Then, he sees you.

His eyes lock with yours across the room, his victorious expression falling and shifting into something more grim.

That’s when you run. You sprint up the stairs and out of the bar, legs aching before you finally make it back to your apartment, shutting the front door and sliding your back down until you hit the floor.

What the fuck were you going to do now?

—

“Thank you all for joining us. This engagement is long overdue, and I’m grateful to Miyeon for sticking by my side even though I never deserved it,” your brother says, which causes Miyeon to bump his hip with hers jokingly. Guests chuckle at the small show of affection. “Please enjoy yourselves tonight and look forward to a Jeong wedding in the new year!”

Applause ensues, jilting you out of your reverie. You slowly clap with everyone else, trying your best to put on a smile.

You’ve been on edge since you walked into this party, and it’s all because of your idiotic actions from the night before. You contemplated showing up after being caught in the act at Johnny’s secret fight, but you knew it would be obvious if you missed your brother’s engagement party. Even though Johnny was here, you were determined to attend, albeit you having to avoid him like the plague.

In all fairness, you were succeeding thus far. You keep yourself on the opposite end of the room from him, never sparing a glance in his direction although you could feel his eyes on you during sporadic times in the night. Your plan is to leave at a time that wouldn’t raise any questions and go into work tomorrow and pretend you were never at the club that night. You hope Johnny would do the same.

For the sake of your job, you really really hope he would do the same.

You’re in the middle of assessing the charcuterie board, eyeing the various fancy cheeses. It’s just like Jaehyun to make this small party as extravagant as he could, knowing it would make no dent in his bank account. All the food is being carried around by various waiters walking around the floor to offer it to the guests.

“Having trouble making a choice?”

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach. You slowly spin around to see Johnny behind you, one hand stuffed into his pocket while the other holds a flute of champagne. He’s wearing a more casual manner of dress, a silk burgundy button-up paired with baggy slacks. It makes his legs look longer and you swallow as he towers over you.

“S-Sir-“

“Johnny!” You’ve never been more grateful to your brother than at this moment. He approaches the both of you with a smile, clapping a hand over Johnny’s shoulder. “How’s my little sister doing as your assistant?”

Your hands twist around your back nervously. Johnny slips into a smooth, easygoing smile.

“She’s doing fantastic. I was actually coming over to tell her just that, especially since she’s the one carrying all of my secrets to the grave.”

Your heart thumps louder in your chest while Jaehyun laughs, taking Johnny’s statement as a joke even though you know better. Johnny’s eyes analyze you carefully, the dark halo in his orbs making you quake in your heels.

“And how about you, dear sister? How’s the scary boss holding up?”

You throw your brother a tight grin. “He’s wonderful, Jae. No complaints here.”

Jaehyun nods, pleased by your progress before excusing himself to mingle. He leaves you alone with Johnny, who stares at you like a predator assessing his prey. You’re about to bring up a comment about the weather before he says, “Pretty girls like you shouldn’t be lurking on the wrong side of town.”

A shiver shoots down your spine. “I-I live on that side of town.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I don’t pay you enough then.”

You exhale, certain he can hear the loud ringing of your heartbeat in your ears. He sets his champagne glass down on a nearby table before grabbing a bite-sized quiche, holding it out to you.

“I’m okay,” you decline and he hums, placing the treat in his mouth for himself. You can’t help the way your eyes linger on how his fingers graze his tongue, licking off any spare crumbs. You think about how those same fingers were pummeling into a poor stranger the night before. How the fire in his eyes couldn’t be tamed by the outcry of his fans.

You picture the same angry Destroyer hovering over you in bed, telling you exactly what he plans to do to you while his fingers wrap around your throat.

His mouth twists into a smirk and you shake yourself out of your daydream. He flags over another man and they shake hands, laughing as they exchange greetings.

“This is my assistant,” Johnny says, turning his attention to you as he offers your name. “She has big aspirations to work for a publishing company after she gets tired of me. Maybe Ahn Books has an opening?”

Mr. Ahn shakes your hand, telling you how lovely it is to meet you, but your eyes can only focus on Johnny. He’s staring at you with a knowing look in his eye and it takes you by surprise.

Was this a bribe to keep quiet about what you saw?

“Any worker who can handle Johnny is certainly a star in my books,” Mr. Ahn chuckles. “Let me know when this one starts getting on your nerves.”

You laugh anxiously and nod. “It’s an honor to meet you, Mr. Ahn.”

Johnny gives you one last look. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He doesn’t provide an opportunity for you to respond, throwing an arm around Mr. Ahn and guiding him away into the crowd.

You release a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

—

Johnny wants to fuck his assistant.

It’s plain and simple, but it’s very much against his wishes. When Jaehyun approached him with the ask to hire his sister, he didn’t hesitate to grant his friend the favor. He had known Jaehyun since they worked at their first company together out of college, and although Johnny had never met you, he figured you would be a good worker if Jaehyun vouched for you. Plus, his last assistant had just quit from being too “overworked.” Johnny thinks they weren’t trying hard enough.

You were pretty, way too pretty to be somebody’s assistant. You deserved to be the main attraction and Johnny is ashamed to admit he’s definitely salivated over the tight pencil skirts you’re always wearing around the office.

He convinces himself to put aside his own selfish desires considering you’re one of the best assistants he’s had in years. You’re incredibly organized and after he warns you once concerning something important, you ensure not to do it again. The only big thing that irritates him is how everyone in this office is clear about their desire to fuck you but you’re wildly oblivious to all of it. Do you really think Kim Doyoung comes to talk to you because he’s friendly?

It fuels him with jealousy and he’s not normally a jealous guy. And Christ, when he saw you in the crowd of his fight, blinking at him warily like a deer caught in the headlights, his heart stopped in his chest. He never intended on letting anyone know of his after-work activity, considering it was inappropriate for a man of his status to be engaged in such a violent act.

When Johnny first got into underground fighting, he had simply been a watcher. He was introduced to the scene by an old colleague and it intrigued him to observe random strangers beat the living shit out of each other for pure sport. He had practiced boxing growing up and the idea of finally discovering a place where he could put those skills to use drew him in. Most of the time, it gave him a spike of adrenaline when he won a match. It normally never gave him gratification to send his opponent home covered in blood, but he kept going because of the reputation he was building for himself.

And seeing you there, watching him win another match and once again being declared undefeated, it makes him feel... proud. Almost like he craves to prove himself to you, to demonstrate that he’s the kind of man that can take care of you.

He’s crossing a clear boundary line but his impulse to have you is overtaking the coherent part of his brain.

So when you walk in on Monday morning and squeak out a “Good morning, sir,” he swallows the need to bend you over his desk.

He greets you with a gruff “Good morning,” which has your eyebrows raising at the response. He normally ignores your attempts at chitchat, especially when it’s this early.

“I texted your schedule to you for today and I have your morning reports here,” you say as you slide over a stack of papers to him. “Can I get you anything else?”

You. Under the desk. On the desk. In the chair. Against the window.

“No, that will be all.”

You move to exit the room, pausing when your hand rests on the handle of the door.

“I-I just want you to know I haven’t told anyone about what I saw this weekend,” you murmur.

“I wouldn’t care if you did,” he replies frankly.

It’s true — he thought about it after leaving the nightclub on Saturday, and he wouldn’t be opposed if you went and told the rest of the work staff. Some sick part of him would actually be smug at the idea of you bragging about his wins to the other employees who so clearly want a taste of you.

“Oh,” you say, slightly startled. “Well, I still won’t tell. It’s your private business, after all. I shouldn’t have even been there in the first place.”

The nagging voice in the back of his head grows louder, desperate to learn what you think of him. “Did you hear what they were saying? How they were betting on The Destroyer?”

You squirm in your spot. “They said you were undefeated, that the newbie didn’t stand a chance.”

He wonders if you’re scared of him, frightened not only by his savage blows but his evident power over you. You must think that he intends to blackmail you to keep his secret, but he could care less what you choose to do.

All he wants is for you to feel the same way he does. He wants you to battle this warmth in your chest, to panic as your mind goes blank when you see him. And he can’t have any of that while you’re his assistant, working under him despite how much he would prefer you directly underneath him.

It’s why he introduced you to Mr. Ahn, an old family friend who owned one of the largest publishing companies in the country. Jaehyun mentioned to Johnny that your real passion was in writing, but the lack of funds drove you to your current spot. Johnny hates that your dreams were crushed because of something as trivial as money, which he carried an abundance of. He would fund your first book in a heartbeat if you asked, but he knows you well enough to understand your pride would never allow you to be indebted to him. He figures a job with Mr. Ahn would be more digestible for you, and it would provide him an opening to make his move.

“Do you ever get worried?” You ask him, chewing on your lower lip. “You could get seriously hurt fighting like that.”

An ache blooms in his chest. Do you care about him getting injured?

“I haven’t been hurt since I started fighting,” he shares with you. “I don’t give them a chance to get their hands anywhere near me.”

You swallow and he wrings his hands together under his desk. Does that turn you on? His office walls aren’t soundproof, but he could lock the door and throw a hand over your mouth to conceal your moans. His cock twitches in his trousers at the thought.

His fantasy shatters when you finally crack open the door.

“I’ll order a sandwich from the Kim’s for your lunch today, sir.”

“Why don’t you make it two and join me?”

You stutter. “I-I’m sorry?”

“Join me for lunch. I could use another pair of eyes on these awful spreadsheets.”

“O-Okay.”

—

Johnny is playing with fire.

He’s very aware of this, yet he can’t seem to stop himself. You’ve eaten lunch together everyday for the past two weeks, munching quietly in his office while he divulges his reasoning to you behind budget cuts and expansion decisions. In the beginning, you would nod and listen patiently. After his encouragement to speak up and voice your opinion, you slowly started coming out of your shell around him.

And he’s very well informed of what the office thinks about your private time together. Last week, he overhears Doyoung mumble to you, “You and the boss are getting close.”

A grin stretches from ear to ear on his face when he listens to your response.

“Oh, I guess we have. He’s been really sweet with me.”

An envious scoff from Doyoung is enough to make Johnny’s entire day.

Late that Friday, you both stay overtime in order to complete the documents required for the Baek acquisition that Johnny has to present to the board of directors on Monday. He insists that you finish your tasks in his office to be more efficient, although the real reason is that he wants to look at your legs while you work.

He watches as you roll your neck, humming when you finally hear the familiar snapping sound.

“Maybe we should call it a night,” Johnny sighs, tired of staring at you for hours without being able to discover what’s hidden beneath that skirt of yours.

You frown. “But we’re only on the seventh page.”

“I’m starting to think you enjoy this work more than I do,” he says with a smirk.

You look down bashfully, avoiding his gaze. “I just don’t think you’ll be ready by Monday if we call it quits.”

“Let me worry about that, hm? I’ll drive you home.”

Your head whips up. “Oh, sir, I couldn’t let you-“

“I want to,” he says firmly.

You smile softly and nod. The two of you pack up the rest of your things, with Johnny storing the paperwork in his briefcase to review for later. He escorts you down to the parking garage and you pile into his vehicle. He observes as you admire the sleek interior, and he’s conscious of the fact that the cost of this car could likely pay your rent for five years. He really does want to offer you a raise to get you into a better apartment in a more decent side of town, but he’s certain you would interpret the gesture as a bribe rather than an act of kindness.

As the vehicle merges onto the busy city road, you pipe up from the passenger seat.

“Are you fighting this weekend?”

The question startles him. You haven’t spoken about his fighting since the moment you told him you would keep his secret.

“Every Saturday,” he replies, sneaking a quick glance over at you.

You have a nervous expression painted on your face. He opens his mouth to ask why before you speak up again.

“Will you be careful?”

The car halts at a red light, and he uses the spare time to fully look at you. You stare back at him, your eyes filled with concern.

It’s completely inappropriate and out of line, but his hand reaches over the dashboard to grab yours. He raises the back of your palm to his mouth, lips brushing over your knuckles. The intimate gesture has you staggering your breath.

“I promise.”

Your words rattle around in his head the following day. He usually doesn’t need any words of encouragement before a fight, his music playlist being enough to boost his spirits. This time, however, he thinks about you tucked away in his car. He pictures your pretty face when he kissed your hand, how your eyes darted away from his in embarrassment.

You’re the reason why he walks into the crowd with a mission, clapping his hands together as he faces his mediocre opponent. When the bell rings, he doesn’t pull his punches as he strikes the first jab into the other man’s face. You’ve awakened something in him and the crowd’s cheers grow louder when he lands blow after blow. It isn’t long before his challenger is stumbling across the floor, falling on his back after Johnny delivers the final thwack against his abdomen.

A hand wraps around his arm and holds it high in the air. The announcer declares his victory, once again proclaiming him undefeated. The roars of the crowd fill his eardrums, but the only person he can think about is you.

His body moves before his mind can convince him otherwise, getting dressed and gathering his things as quickly as possible before exiting the nightclub. He nearly breaks into a sprint in the chilly night air, reaching your apartment within minutes.

When you open the door, your jaw drops open at the sight of him.

“Johnny-“

His hands cup your cheeks, pushing your body backwards until you hit the wall. His nose brushes against yours and your breath hitches, hands reaching up to curl around his wrists.

“Tell me I should stop,” he whispers against your lips. “Tell me I’m crossing a line and I need to walk out that door and never come back.”

He watches your chest rise and fall with each passing breath. Your expression crumbles before you press forward, locking your lips with his.

A frenzy ensues. He shuts the door to your apartment forcefully, almost rattling it off of its hinges. His tongue slips into your waiting mouth, fingers gripping your waist tightly. You’re whimpering against him, basking in the sweat and tanned muscles from his win.

“Sir-“

“Fuck,” he hisses, pushing his body against yours. You whine when you can feel his hardened member against the fabric of your shorts. “Do you know how much it turns me on whenever you call me that? Always parading around in these fucking tight skirts, calling me sir — you’re practically begging me to stretch you open.”

You pant. “I want you to. I really really want you to.”

You both clumsily move to undress the other, with Johnny’s fingers pulling down your shorts and your hands lifting up his shirt. There’s a little dried blood on his torso as evidence from the fight.

“Sorry, I didn’t shower before I came and-“

“Did you win?”

A pause. “Of course I won.”

Then your lips are on his, tongues swirling together. The kiss is sloppy with the two of you mouthing at one another, desperate to grasp at any physical contact you can. You squeak in surprise when Johnny lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist before pinning you against the wall.

He trails kisses down your neck, ripping your old university t-shirt in half and discarding it on the floor. Your sports bra follows after, and he gives you no time to complain before he takes your right nipple into his mouth, licking wildly. He shifts his attention between each breast, fingers flicking at the peaked bud if he neglects one for too long.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, whimpering softly.

“S-Sir-“

“Need me inside you?” He murmurs against your skin. “You’re so fucking tempting.”

“Please,” you beg, tugging at the strands of his silky brown locks. “I need you so badly.”

He’s quick to release his cock from the confines of his shorts, tip red and leaking. You whine when you see the evidence of his arousal. Johnny knows he’s bigger than most so he moves your panties to the side and runs a finger through your folds. He groans when he feels you practically dripping onto his palm.

“You really do need me badly, hm?” He remarks with a smug grin. “Tell me what’s gotten you so wet, baby.”

“Y-You,” you choke out. “Ever since I saw you fighting as The Destroyer, I-“

Your words are cut off by a piercing scream when the tip of his cock slides into you. He takes your arms and wraps them around his neck, stabilizing you as he cups his hands around your ass, rutting up into you. He can tell you’re marveling at his strength — his ability to lift you like you weigh nothing. He holds you close as his hips piston deep into your cunt.

“Look at what you do to me,” he bites in a venomous tone. “I can’t think properly when I’m around you. Want to bend you over my desk and let the whole office hear you sing for me.” Another sharp thrust has you tightening your hold around his neck, and he takes the opportunity to dangle your legs over his elbows. The angle fully allows him to fuck you perfectly, balancing you in his arms as he watches his cock disappear in and out of your weeping pussy. All you can do is hang onto him for dear life and take it. “Maybe I should invite Doyoung to come watch us. He’s always fucking chasing after you anyways.”

You unravel around him at a breakneck speed, pushed over the edge by the idea of him claiming you for all of your co-workers to see. He grunts when he feels you clench around him, offering a few more thrusts before he’s following suit. You whimper when he releases inside of you, painting your walls with his cum.

He finally sets you back down on the ground carefully, chuckling when your shaky legs cause you to stumble into him.

“Shut up,” you mumble bashfully, hitting his arm.

He kisses you again, hands resting on your lower back. “Do you think you’d be up for another round?” He whispers, eyeing his cum running down your thighs.

“I think you’re crazy,” you reply, which brings forward another bubble of laughter from him. You draw circles over his arm, admiring the swell of his muscles. Your voice shifts into something softer and lighter. “What are we going to do?”

He brushes his lips over your forehead. “I’ll figure it out. Just let me take care of you, hm?”

You giggle when he scoops you into his arms and carries you into the bedroom bridal style, preparing himself to make you moan for him all night.

—

Weeks after your passionate night with Johnny, you reach out to Mr. Ahn to see if there’s an opening at Ahn Books.

He offers a position as a junior editor and you accept it happily, eager to finally begin your career in the writing world. When you announce your departure from Johnny’s company, you’re surprised by the outpour of love you receive. All of the colleagues you spent a fun night out with bring you various flowers and stuffed animals, requesting for you to stay in touch. Johnny isn’t shocked in the slightest, huffing to himself as he tells you that they’re all in love with you. You simply roll your eyes at his jealousy.

At first, you kept your relationship with Johnny a secret in fear that people would assume you slept your way to the top. It proved extremely difficult to keep your boyfriend’s hands off of you, however. He ached to be near you at all times of the day, and you’re ashamed to admit your last two weeks in the office were mainly spent on your knees or bent over his desk.

“Ungh!”

A hand pushes on your lower back, arching your spine. Fingers tangle in your hair and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“What do you expect me to do now, hm? How am I supposed to get my fill of this pussy everyday when it’s across town?”

A smack echoes throughout the room when his hand collides with your ass and you bite down on your palm to prevent the mewls from releasing. No matter how many times you warn Johnny that the staff outside could definitely hear you two, he never holds himself back. There could be articles written the next day about the CEO fucking employees in his office and he wouldn’t bat an eye. His only focus is you, how you feel around him, how fast he can get you to whine for him.

One particular push of his hips has you reeling, gasping as you clench around him. He groans when he feels your climax hit, sending him tumbling over the edge before his warm seed fills you.

“Johnny,” you scold, reaching back to hit him lightly. “You know I stopped taking my birth control.”

“I’m aware, baby. Why do you think we’re moving in together?”

You scoff. You were initially opposed to the idea, but Johnny somehow convinced you that it would be much easier for you to move into his million dollar house and let him drive you to work every morning. There were no downsides to his proposal, truth be told, but you didn’t want to make it seem like you were using him for his bank account. He asked if he could fuck your throat to call it even, and you agreed.

He sits back down in his chair, pulling you onto his lap. Various papers and pens are scattered across the floor from the aftermath of your intimacy.

“It’s going to be a really good thing for you that I’m leaving,” you say, massaging the back of his neck as he licks at your collarbone. His cock is still seated deep inside you. “You haven’t been productive at work in weeks.”

“It’s the job for the next assistant,” he says dismissively. “Let’s go out tonight in celebration?”

“Okay,” you hum in contentment. “I really do want to thank you, you know. I was about to hit rock bottom before I started working for you.”

“No need to thank me, baby. I would do anything for you. As long as you keep supporting The Destroyer, I’m happy.”

You frown. “I’ll only keep supporting you if you remain undefeated. I’d hate to see you seriously injured.”

He laughs at the idea, as if the thought of anyone taking his championship title is unbelievable. He squeezes your hips and slowly begins to rock you back and forth on his cock, and you whine when you realize he’s growing hard again.

“Don’t be silly. No one has a chance against me.”

“D-Do you think we need to tell Jaehyun about us?”

Johnny shrugs. “It’s the job for the next assistant.”

Then he throws you over his desk once more, grunting as he claims your body until the sun sets over the horizon.

this fic was posted for early access to the $5 tier on my patreon, which you can access here!

#nct smut #nct x reader #johnny #johnny smut

1K notes · View notes

moonlightrafe · 11 days ago

Text

Delicate

summary: On a night out to forget his past, Aemond finds himself thinking of a future with you

pairing: Modern!Aemond x Stripper!Reader

word count: 2.2k

warnings: Explicit smut, alcohol consumption, sex work, reader is a single mom, semi-public, lactation kink, mommy kink (yaaay), handjobs, cum play 18+ MDNI

note: This is a repost 🙈so if it flops, it flops

Aemond Targaryen was never a fan of strip clubs. He viewed them as not only a waste of time, but a waste of money. Spending ungodly amounts on overpriced, watered down drinks. Just for a girl who pretended to be attracted to him, could dance on him for a couple of hours. He always left feeling impure while glitter and the scent of cotton candy clung to his clothes. It just wasn’t his thing, he had better ways to spend his time.

And yet, he found himself on his way to one now, on a Tuesday night. With his heathen of a brother and his immature friends. What had become of him?

You’re on the opposite side of town, also getting ready for the evening. Hot steam and the scent of lavender invigorates your senses as you’ve just finished taking an ‘everything’ shower. You’re scrubbed to the bone, freshly exfoliated, shaved, and now lathering vanilla scented lotion onto your skin when your phone buzzes.

Aegon Targaryen.

Aegon was your typical rich, frat boy who frequented the club you worked at. Over the years he had become something more of a friend than a customer. He would sometimes bring you food, or weed, or a pack of cigarettes. He had even came to your defense when certain men would over step boundaries with you.

He was a good customer, gave a lot of money to the club – and to you. He wasn’t exactly your type but there was no denying he was attractive.

you workin tonight?

depends who’s asking 😈 jk … u know where to find me 💋

perfect. and not for me 😢 have a guy who needs a distraction. wear smth expensive!

oh? 👀🤨

money talks baby

💸💦

It’s a rainy Tuesday night, you’re not sure why you agreed to pick up a shift in the first place. But you could use some extra cash, and your daughter is at her dad’s this week.

Even though the club you work at is one of the busiest in Kings Landing, you anticipate it to be an uneventful evening. Aegon coming in changes things, maybe you’ll have some sort of fun, and st the the very least someone to talk to.

It’s just you and two other girls working tonight. There are three men sat around the stage as Floris dances, and Sara is occupied with a private dance in the back. As you predicted, a pretty slow night. You have the bartender make you a drink, a dirty shirley. You sit and tap on the glass waiting for some action when Aegon finally shows up.

He has a decent sized group of guys with him, most of which seem to already be under the influence. In order to not appear desperate you wait for him Aegon to come to you.

“Lookin’ good, girl!” he calls, leaning in to hug you, “and you wore expensive perfume, that’s a good girl,” he flirts as he slides you a $50 bill and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Is this for… your friend?”

“Not a friend,” he states proudly, a devilish grin on his face, “my brother.“

You look past Aegon to the group of guys he sauntered in with, and then you spot him. A tall, lean guy with hair the same shade as Aegon’s; except his is much shorter, and styled neatly. He’s aimlessly scrolling his phone, barely looking around. You notice he has a pack of Marlboro Menthols in his hand. With a cool demeanor and a jawline chiseled to perfection by the Gods themselves, you are in for it.

He resembles Aegon for sure, though he is much more handsome.

“Gods, there’s two of you,” you groan jokingly.

“Actually, there’s four of us,” Aegon corrects, “but one’s sixteen and the other is a girl, our sister.”

Aegon hardly ever spoke of his family and when he did it was never in detail. All you knew was that they were toxic, full of drama, lacking love, and filthy rich.

“That’s right. Well, what do I need to know about this one?”

“That’s Aemond. Go easy on him, he’s a major nerd, hates all things fun, and the club isn’t really his scene — total opposite of me,” he notes, “but he’s been hung up on this older woman and I need him to get under someone else to get over it.”

You raise your eyebrows at him a second time, unsure of what you’re getting yourself into.

“What can I say? We’re a complicated bunch, but it’s nothing you can’t handle, right princess?”

You giggle at the pet name and he grins before he smacks you hard on the ass.

“Go get ‘em, tiger.”

You glance over in Aemond’s direction again, now he sips on an old fashioned and his expression remains unreadable.

You decide to head to the back to quickly freshen yourself up. You’ll need to mentally prepare yourself before sinking your paws into Aegon’s sexy-as-hell brother. You brush out your curls, pick away any dried mascara from below your eyelids and generously apply more perfume. Baccarat 540, it was expensive, thank you very much.

You take a large sip of your own drink before you saunter your way back out front and over to the table where he sits.

"Hey! You look like you could use a friend" you purr, “can I offer you a dance?"

Aemond looks over to Aegon who is giving him a thumbs up before looking at you. His eye scans your body.

"Um, yeah,” he finally responds, swallowing thickly, “yeah, you can.”

This time he smiles as he checks you out.

"You wanna go somewhere more private?" you offer in a whisper, motioning to one of the closed off rooms, "ya know away from prying eyes?"

"Sure," he replies and your perfectly manicured fingers wrap around his wrist, dragging him to one of the rooms. Once you’re alone, tucked away behind the velvet curtain, he takes it upon himself to take a seat on the leather couch.

“So how does this work?" he questions nonchalantly, taking a large sip of his old fashioned.

“You’ve never gotten a private dance before?” you ask him and he shakes his head as he swallows.

“Oh, well, I’m flattered,” you giggle, taking a seat next to him, feeling him out.

“Well, while we’re in here,” you say as you place your palm on his leg, “I’m all yours,” you smile.

“All mine, huh?”

“That’s right,” you soon come realize that Aemond isn’t even sure what he wants. You take a large sip of your drink, finishing it off in one gulp.

You slowly straddle Aemond’s lap, refusing to break eye contact as you move your body to the rhythm of the song the booms through the speakers. Your palms glide over his lean chest, teasing and tantalizing as you continue to sway your hips. Aemond keeps a firm grip on the couch, his hands not leaving his sides. You reach down and take them in yours.

“You can touch me, I promise you won’t break me,” you encourage, guiding his hands up your body.

His hands run up and down your stomach, causing a fire to ignite in your belly. His touch is more gentle than what you’re used to. He uses his thumbs to swipe over the sheer fabric of your bra against your nipples. You gasp under his touch but he quickly removes his hands from you, yet you feel his cock grow harder underneath you.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, your hands flying to your breasts, instantly feeling two damp spots there. Fuck.

It’s something you know is inevitable, but it doesn’t make it any less awkward. All of your regulars are already aware of your situation, but with someone new and unsuspecting, it’s an uncomfortable conversation. You’d found a lot of men are actually turned on by it, but there is always that chance that the current one won’t be.

“I – I’m so sorry. I don’t usually confide this, erm, Aegon knows… I have a one year old who’s still breastfeeding.”

Aemond appears to be at a loss for words. You need to get up before he can reject you himself.

“Let me just—” He stares at you intently as you’re about to remove yourself from his lap. He is definitely caught off guard by your confession, but not in the negative way that you think.

“That’s no problem,” he says huskily as he composes himself, “you stay right here.” His gaze is piercing as he keeps his hands firm on your hips, the cool metal of his rings digs into your flesh as he holds you in place in his lap.

“Alright, if you’re sure,” you mutter back to him, feeling relieved.

“Oh, I’m sure,” he tells you, the bulge in his pants evidently harder than it was earlier.

You study him carefully, there is a hunger in his eye that wasn’t there before, even moments ago. It’s as if his entire demeanor has changed. You figure you can use this to your advantage.

“I don’t usually do this, but I’m making an exception,” you tell him as you reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the dirty floor.

“Because I’m Aegon’s brother?” he asks.

“No, because …. I want to.”

It was true, you didn’t normally get this intimate with customers, but something about Aemond was drawing you in.

Aemond’s eye widens as you reveal your glistening nipples to him. You squeeze at your breast lightly, grinding yourself into him, and he rewards you with a moan. your thumb around your nipple, gathering some of your milk onto it before rubbing it along Aemond’s lower lip. He eagerly accepts it into his mouth, sucking it harshly, nipping at your fingertip.

“You like that?”

“Mhm,” he groans against you, releasing your thumb before leaning forward into you. He smells good, expensive cologne and nicotine. His lips find their way to your neck, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. His fingers ghost down your body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. You arch into him, wanting more.

He continues to move at an agonizingly slow pace, taking his time with you as his lips make their way from your throat down to your chest. Your breath hitches once his tongue finally comes in contact with your nipple, lapping at the droplets of milk there. He takes your flesh into his mouth, gently suckling, careful not to apply too much pressure.

Your mind is going hazy as arousal leaks from your core, you grind down harder on him.

Aemond continues to suckle at your breast, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud as he drinks from you with ease. His eyes are closed, his mind completely lost to the sensation of you in his mouth. Your body trembles against him and he feels it, your small whimpers and moans sending waves urging him on.

He pulls away slowly, and you wince at the loss of contact. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses across your skin as he looks up at you with glassy eyes.

You lean back, positioning yourself so that you have access to the button of Aemond’s jeans.

“Can I?” you ask.

He nods his head eagerly, unbuttoning them for you and yanking the zipper down with quickness.

You wrap your hand around his length, tugging gently as your free hand flies to the back of his head, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck.

You lean down to cup and squeeze his balls as he sucks at your right breast.

“Fuck, M-mommy,” he moans.

Your eyes widen at his choice of words but they stir something in you.

“You wanna be a good boy and cum for mommy baby?”

“Yes! I’m — I’m good,” he stutters, rutting himself up into your palm.

Your hand works quicker as he finds himself back at your chest. Drinking from you like a man starved.

A few more languid pumps of his cock and he’s shooting thick, pearly ropes into your hand. You move your hand down lower to cup and squeeze at his balls for a moment before bringing it back to your mouth, licking away the salty remnants as Aemond shoves his cock back into his pants.

As if right on schedule, the timer you set on your phone to keep track of the time goes off.

“Well, looks like our time’s up,” you say with a frown.

“Looks like it,” he replies and the air swells with tension.

You turn to leave to give him a moment to find his composure, get himself together but he yanks at your wrist.

“Wait! Let me take you out!” he blurts out at you, “on a date, a real one. Please.”

You lean up to wipe a smudge of your lipgloss from the corner of his mouth.

“This was paid for, ya know?” You say empathetically and his eye darkens.

Great. You’ve offended him.

“I know that,” he says sternly, “Just, I want to take you out. Please. Just one date.”

“One date,” you repeat.

“Yes,” he assures, his good eye gleaming.

“Okay.”

You give Aemond your phone number and you let him add his to your phone.

“I will text you,” he assured before he goes to exit the room. You follow him out and watch as he makes his way back to Aegon who is bright eyed and clapping at his brother.

You make eye contact with Aegon and he mouths something to you that you are unable to decipher.

What have you gotten yourself into?

#aemond targaryen #modern!aemond #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd smut #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen x reader smut #aemond targaryen x y/n #house of the dragon #hotd #modern hotd #aemond x reader #aemond x you

364 notes · View notes

sturnioz · 5 months ago

Note

hear me out…. one of fratboy!chris’ ex fwbs runs into him and shy!reader at a party and she makes it very clear she misses sex with him

how are they both reacting?

you can't help but stare at her in awe. she is gorgeous.

cherry. that's her name — or rather, her nickname. all thanks to her vibrant red hair and big breasts that fit so perfectly in her low-cut dress.

you know you probably look a bit silly, standing beside chris in the crowded kitchen, your mouth agape and eyes sparkling as you watch how she carries herself with an intoxicating confidence.

her red lips curl into a sultry smile as she gazes at chris, her perfectly applied fake lashes fluttering as she speaks to him. you watch, mesmerised, as she leans in closer, placing a hand on chris' shoulder, her fingers lingering just a moment too longer as she whispers something in his ear. he nods, reaching into his pocket to grab whatever she asked for, and the sight suddenly twists your stomach into knots.

when her eyes finally dart toward you, your heart races. you straighten your back instinctively and offer her a polite smile as she tilts her head slightly, seemingly sizing you up.

"hi," she greets, her tone short and blunt, but you barely register it.

"hello." you kindly introduce yourself, hastily adding your name at the end, hoping to make a good impression. "you're really pretty."

"thanks." her tone is blunt again, and while the straightforwardness of her reply should sting, it barely registers in your mind; you're too consumed by her beauty, trying to comprehend how someone so stunning could be standing right in front of you.

"how do you know chris?" you ask, trying your best to keep the conversation flowing despite your social awkwardness.

"we used to fuck." the way she says it makes you blink, recoiling slightly. there's a sharpness in her tone that leaves you feeling unsettled, and a frown threatens to break across your lips — not because you're surprised by what she said, you're fully aware of how many people chris had slept with before you.

it's the way in which she delivers the information that feels off, leaving a strange feeling within you that you can't quite pinpoint.

"that's... that's cool, yeah," you murmur awkwardly, your admiration rapidly overshadowed by an uncomfortable tension. the intensity of her gaze makes you feel small, and you instinctively shuffle closer to chris' side, as if you're seeking out help or comfort.

chris remains silent, completely unfazed as he pulls a baggy filled with pink, heart-shaped pills from his pocket and hands them to cherry, who immediately breaks into a smile, her fingers lingering in his grasp just a moment too long.

"you're the best, as always," cherry says, her voice going back to that sultry tone as she leans in closer, her gaze fixed on chris. "am i still allowed to pay for this a different way or...?"

"nah, pills went up a lot since last time. s'gonna cost you," chris says as he holds out his hand with a nonchalant grin. "pay up."

"come on.. you know money isn't always the better payment." her tone is playful now, yet there's an underlying intensity that makes your stomach churn, and you swallow thickly, unsure on how to react with seeing this happen right in front of your eyes.

"i need the money." chris doesn't back down, his expression now firm as he still holds out his hand. cherry hesitates, her jaw tightening, the playful glint in her eye momentarily dimming as she reaches into her purse, retrieving a handful of cash and slamming a few hefty dollar bills into his palm.

your eyes wide at the amount you see — more than you originally expected for just a few miniature pills, and you're unable to contain your curiosity as you accidentally blurt out, "how much are the pills?"

"why?" chris snaps back his usual response when you ask about these things. he rolls up the bills and shoves them into his pocket with practiced ease, his eyes narrowing as he stares at you. "don't get any funny ideas, kid, or i swear—"

"s'just a lot of money..." you speak in awe, your gaze darting from the cash in his pocket to his eyes, searching for an understanding. "that's, like, a lot."

chris blinks, the corner of his lips twitching upward ever so slightly at your expression. "well, yeah.. its fuckin' drugs."

"i used to pay for it a different way, right?" cherry chimes in, her voice smooth and enticing. to be honest, you did forget for a brief moment that she was still here with you, and your head turns towards her, but her focused is locked on chris. "i still should, to be honest — you always liked it that way."

"yeah, i did," chris hums in agreement, and you shift uncomfortably beside him, chewing on your bottom lip as a wave of anxiety washes over you.

"do you still have those blue ones we used to take together?" she asks him, but her focus now shifts to you. "we used to get high together all the time, and the way he would move his hips when we fucked? it was something else."

you catch a glimpse of the smug, proud grin on chris' face from the corner of your eye, and a rush of discomfort floods your system, twisting your insides. the feelings bubbling up inside you are confusing, leaving your head spinning as if you've had three beers too many.

"i don't have that shit anymore, wasn't doin' good." chris confesses, pulling out a joint and fishing for his lighter, his nonchalance only making it worse for you.

"you still have my number right?" cherry asks, her voice low and inviting. "if you start selling it again, you should give me a call.. you know i'll be there."

as chris strikes the lighter, the flame flickers to life, igniting his joint as he looks at cherry — holding her gaze for a moment longer than necessary as he takes a hit, holding it in his lungs before releasing the smoke in a slow, deliberate exhale.

"yeah, a'ight. i will." he drawls, and your heart races as you watch cherry smirk at him, a look of satisfaction spreading across her face before she gracefully walks off, her hips swaying as she disappears into the crowd.

you swallow hard again, glancing up at chris, who's still staring in the direction cherry left as he takes another hit. you want to ask him what that was all about, to try for answers, but the words catch in your throat. it's not your place to question him, yet the urge to understand still lingers.

but, to your surprise, chris lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head as he pulls out his phone. "m'gonna run her money so fuckin' bad," he hums, a smirk playing on his lips as his eyes flick to you. "she's not gonna know what hit her, kid."

#ᯓ꒰asks꒱#ᯓ꒰anon꒱#☆ fratboy!chris #☆ shy!reader #꒰ fratboy!chris x shy!reader prompt ꒱

603 notes · View notes

kawaiijohn · 5 months ago

Text

Help a queer family of disabled nerds

Hey my name is Dante, I live in the Midwest with three of my best friends. We have four cats, one of which is my babyman whom I love very dearly.

His name is Latke Library Card Mango (LLCM). He's very orange and he's the light of my boyfriend, Kris, and I's life.

Cat pics are great right? Have a few.

A few months ago, latkes chronic bladder stones condition acted up which resulted in two emergency vet visits and a week long stay with his actual vet to get the stone removed.

It was the size of a chickpea.

Here's a photo of his post surgery when he had a nakie tummy. He was very very happy to see us.

He's since recovered, but the cost of this put us back around 1300 dollars in total. He's now on a special diet with rather pricey food to prevent this from happening but it might still act up eventually.

We've paid down some of his debt, but the interest is making it become more and more as we try to pay it down.

On top of this, our pipes backed up into our basement and refused to work suddenly a few weeks ago. We live in a house that is over a century old, and the clay pipes keep getting roots growing into them that causes them to not drain.

The roto had to come out and high pressure the roots out to clear them (which required expensive equipment), This put us back another grand.

To add to everything, our 700+ auto insurance bill is due in November, which is the worst time for this bill to need due, but both myself and Kris drive over ten miles to work during different shifts on opposite ends of town- neither of our jobs have public transit anywhere near them.

We are currently barely making ends meet-

I am a lunch lady at a public high school. I love my job. I feed kids who possibly don't even eat at home some days. I do work I am proud of.

However, I can only work around 25 hours a week without risking losing my insurance as a disabled person. My job does not have longer hour positions available, and I am too disabled to work more than this without ruining my body like I have done in the past.

I have been going without buying groceries out of fear that what little money I have in my account will be needed in an emergency. I will be out of work for a week this month, around Thanksgiving, and during Xmas break- unpaid due to me working in a school. Me being out also means no guaranteed meal every day.

Kris works in a factory. He is currently working 55+ hours a week to make what we can to pay off the bills and keep our house. He only has one and a half knees that hurt all the damn time and is barely eating either just to afford everything. His factory keeps calling for sudden shutdown weeks with little notice at the worst times, and he's the main breadwinner in the house for us.

The other two in our household, one is severely disabled and can barely work 10 hr/week (he is waiting on hearing back to receive SSI) on top of having multiple medical appointments a week to figure out what is wrong with his body and why it keeps failing. The other is a freelance artist who is working her butt off to make money while carting the previous to appointments nearly every day. She is full up on commissions at the moment, but when she opens them I'll reblog her posts.

I really didn't want to make this post. I hate asking for help. But we are drowning and there's no sign of land. None of us can afford to live on our own, nor can we move back in with our parents for various reasons.

All I'm asking for is some help. I don't care how much. Five dollars is five dollars. Five dollars is half an hour less we have to kill ourselves to make ends meet.

Even if we don't make the full amount, every dollar will help us get a bit closer to paying this stuff down so we can afford gas and regular grocery trips again instead of having to save up to go once a month like we are currently doing.

Our goal is 2000 dollars.

Yes, this is the high amount. I do not believe we will ever reach it. I can hope we can raise this much at some point.

But for now that's the dream number.

It's the number that is looming over our heads, telling us to pay up or lose our home.

It's not something we need this very moment, but just what we need in the next few months to be able to afford living without destroying our body or working three jobs/ridiculous hours.

We thank anyone who can spare a few bucks to help us, and if you can't afford it just pass this post along to someone who might be able to.

Please send as friend/family if you can, PayPal is threatening to withhold money sent as transactions now if you receive over a certain amount.

This includes sending things through my ko-fi account- so here's the preferred methods:

Progress:

388.74/2,000

Thank you for reading. I love you.

#dantes vibe corner #signal boost #mutual aid #long post

479 notes · View notes

vampiree-555 · 9 months ago

Text

"Please, I need it."

c.s - drvgdealer

contains: smut , slight(?) angst , mentions of weed , degradation , pet names

It was a long day. One of the more excruciating days I'd had in a while. I'd gotten home and immediately rushed for my stash of weed that I kept in the underwear drawer of my dresser. I was so excited to finally be able to relax and take the edge off until I saw the empty container that I kept my weed in.

"Shit." i whined to myself.

I gritted my teeth as I knew what I had to do, though I desperately did not want to do it.

My dealer was one of the hottest people I'd ever laid my eyes on... but he was scary as hell. He knew how I felt about him so anytime we would meet, he'd always keep it short and simple. Though last time, we had a bit of an argument.

{flashback}

"Thanks Chris." I took the small baggie from his hand but he didn't let it go. He stared at me with his intense and cold blue eyes that pierced daggers into you. I stared back at him with my eyes wide and my breathing had obviously gotten heavier.

"Why don't you like me, y/n? I don't know if you've noticed this, but I always under charge you, I give you extra, and I'm nice to you. Which is not something I always do. So why don't you like me?" He spoke in a monotonous tone yet I could tell by his eyes he was angry.

"I've been your dealer for 2 years and you never text me unless you need weed, y/n." I shook my head and slightly chuckled nervously.

"That's what dealers are for, Chris. I'm your customer. I'm not your girlfriend." his grip on my hand tightened as I spoke. I saw him clench his jaw and grit his teeth. He laughed softly and threw my hand down along with the baggie.

"Find a new dealer. I'm done with you." he turned his back away and walked into the night, not knowing where he was headed.

I picked up my phone hesitantly and opened his contact. I know he said he was done with me but I secretly knew he didn't mean it.

ׂ╰┈➤ texting

y/n ; hey. i need stuff..

Chris🚬 ; i thought i said i was done w u y/n.

y/n ; you did , srry but im out nd need more

Chris🚬 ; ur killing me y/n l/n

y/n ; thx chris

I smiled to myself as i set my phone down. I had a weird attachment to him. I liked him as a brother... I thought.

I changed into more appropriate clothes for meeting Chris. My white tank, black zip up hood, and my noticeably short jean shorts. He liked when I showed off my ass and as an apology for last time, I did just that.

Soon I heard my front door open and I rolled my eyes. He always walked into my apartment like he owned the place.

"Where you at ma?" my heart beat out my chest once I heard his voice. I was nervous to see him again. I took a deep breath before stepping out into the living room where he made himself comfortable on my couch.

"I'm right here, no need to yell." I said playfully at him. He looked me up and down before softly biting his lip and looking up at me with his piercing and narrow blue eyes. The way he looked at me really got to me somehow. I could feel my cheeks flush and I couldn't stop my small smile from forming on my lips.

I sat next to him on the couch and could feel his eyes on my ass while i sat. I narrowed my eyes at him and he scoffed before looking away from my gaze.

"You know just how to make me feel better baby." he spoke so softly you could miss it, but it was so quiet in that room you couldn't not hear his every move.

He pulled my usual amount that I bought from him out his hoodie pocket and threw it on the table. I slid him the cash and he stared at the bills for a moment before shaking his head.

"No. That's not what I want." He looked at me and I tilted my head in a confused manner. He sucked on his teeth before a small smirk formed on his face. He leaned in closer to me where his lips were barely brushing my ear.

"I want you, mama." I leaned back from him with my eyebrows furrowed.

"Chris," He didn't let me get another word out before he crashed our lips together in a possessive rage, for some odd reason, I didn't pull back. I let him kiss me, and I kissed back.

He held his hand on the back of my neck to deepen the kiss and let his free hand roam my waist. In a quick motion he turned us so that my back was pushed against the couch and he leaned over me.

He kissed down my neck which tended to be more sensitive and I let it be known with the small noises that escaped from my lips. I felt him smirk against my fragile skin and let him snake his hands down my waist, and to my thighs. He swiped off his shirt and let me sit up to do the same while he bent down to unbutton my shorts and throw them across the room, along with my underwear, I did the same with my shirt and Chris with his own clothing.

I felt the ocean that formed in my panties once he undressed me and apparently Chris did as well.

"Already so wet for me? hm?" his hand trailed down to my soaking cunt and he rubbed circles around my clit with his thumb while with his other hand, he entered his middle and ring finger, curling them against my G-spot causing loud moans and whines to escape my lips.

"f-fuck~ feels so good.." I heard his godforsaken chuckle as he listened to the sweet noises that escaped my glistening, plump lips. He removed his fingers and jammed them into my mouth.

"Suck." and I did just that. I stared at him with my pleading and desperate eyes as he looked down at me, like I was the most disgusting thing he'd ever seen, yet his eyes were also filled with infatuation and desire.

He removed his fingers from my mouth and spit into that same hand, stroking himself before pressing his tip against my core slightly teasing me. I whined and looked at him with my puppy eyes before he scoffed into the air.

"Don't look at me like that y/n. You have no idea what you do to me." The last part was just barely a breath, I almost missed it.

He slowly began to enter into my core, his own grunts and groans mixed with mine, filling the air with a wave of ecstasy.

He pushed himself in slowly before pulling out to where his tip was just barely at my entrance before slamming his hips into mine. I let out a loud scream like moan as he continued at a fast and hard pace. A rhythm at which I'd never seen or felt before.

"h-holy fuck~" At this point my brain had turned into mush as my only point of focus was Chris and how he made me feel in that moment. I instinctively arched my back as I felt the all-to-familiar knot form in my stomach. Chris could tell I was getting close, and obviously had no intention on slowing down.

"m' close.." I moaned out. I looked at Chris after having my eyes closed for nearly the whole time out of pure pleasure. He was staring down at me with complete anger in his eyes and my heart started to race in my chest.

"You're such a fucking slut. All you do is fuck for drugs. You're mine y/n. All fucking mine." Chris spoke through clenched teeth. I would be lying if I said that didn't make me inch closer to my climax.

Chris then pulled out just as quickly as he entered inside of me and began gathering all of his clothes, putting them back on piece my piece. I looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. My chest was rising and falling and my skin glistened due to sweat under the warm light.

"Chris wha-" I was cutoff once more by an aggressive kiss from the man once he got all his clothes on, followed by a soft slap across my face.

"Don't text me again." And with that, he left my apartment, slamming the door behind him.

#chris x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #fanfic #chris smut #sex and drugs #drug dealer

406 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 10 months ago

Note

Would I be the asshole if I refused to pay my phone bill?

📱🧾♿️ <- To recognize my post for later :)

The title is probably already a bit of a red flag, but I genuinely didn’t know how else to word it…

For context: I am a disabled, chronically and mentally ill trans guy who recently turned 20. I haven’t left home yet for a lot of reasons, some being that my parents promised to let me live rent-free so long as I was in college (which I am, just not currently for the summer) as well as the fact that they really haven’t raised me to be very independent and rely solely on them (which is honestly a whole other can of worms), but primarily because of my disability. It isn’t safe for me to live on my own, as I faint commonly, cannot stand up for more than maybe fifteen minutes at a time roughly, and sometimes am unable to eat for long periods of time due to debilitating nausea which leads to weakness. I also have severe chronic pain in my limbs and gut, something I’ve had most of my life, while my chronic illness I’ve only had for about a year and a half now and am still struggling to adjust to.

Because of my disability, I also can’t work a traditional job. I offer art commissions online, because I’m very passionate about art and it’s one of the few things I’m good at, and I haul in a decent amount, but certainly not enough to live off of. I make enough to set aside some good savings (I’m currently saving for a wheelchair, as that might grant me more freedom and the potential to get a job at least for the summer) while also indulging myself in buying the occasional fatty treat (I’m very underweight so that’s not an issue, and I was raised essentially in an almond mom household all my life, so this form of eating is really the only sense of control I have over my life, as I’m fully dependent on my parents elsewise).

The issue has come upon relatively recently. I feel like a huge entitled brat for it as well, and if others believe the same, I sincerely don’t blame you.

My mom sat me down the other day and said that she expected me to start paying at least one bill. She offered my cheapest bill (which would be for my phone; my parents bought it, and it’s theirs, they’re just letting me use it as my own.. I don’t own a whole lot of “my” items myself) and asked what I thought about that. I was fully honest with her: if I had a steady stream of income, I wouldn’t hesitate to offer to pay for all of my bills, but with the way it stands, I just don’t make enough month-to-month to regularly afford the bill. I also do my commissions through my phone, so if I could afford the bill, my phone would be turned off, and I’d be unable to continue.

My mom got very upset and started talking to me like a child (though she really has every right to, honestly, and I know that). She went on a very long rant about teaching me responsibility, and how I can’t rely on my parents forever, and that I need to grow up at some point… All things that I fully agree with. I sincerely want to! I want nothing more than to be fully independent. But the way it stands, my parents cover my entire medical bills and they pay for my meds… And I just don’t make enough to survive on my own, and I can just barely afford a meal or two from a sandwich shop I enjoy twice a month to keep my sanity in check because I’m usually bedbound.

I tried explaining to her that I would if I could, sincerely, and that I’m not trying to be a leech or lazy, but she wasn’t having it. She just scolded me and said that if I can afford to eat out every month, then I can afford the phone bill. But again, with the way things are, I don’t think I’d be able to do it every month without tapping into my savings, which again, is for my wheelchair so I can regain some sense of freedom for myself. I’m seriously debating just telling her no straight out, but I don’t know what the aftermath might look like…

So, sincerely: Am I in the wrong here? Should I just swallow my protests and cough up the money somehow? I really don’t know and would love an outside perspective.

#aita #am i the asshole

289 notes · View notes

tacticaldiary · 7 months ago

Text

Friday Nights

PAIRING: Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader

SYNOPSIS: "I think I'm the lucky one no matter which narrative you spin." That easy smile of his reminds her of how she fell in love. He was sweet, considerate, and the perfect amount of playful that spoke to her without being cruel or nasty.

NOTE: All fanfic is timsekip. I'm taking requests!

Masterlist

Friday's are date nights.

Kuroo's observant, good at being intuitive and he never picks anything he knows she won't like. Whether that be a new restaurant or a trip to the pier they've walked a dozen times, Kuroo has this uncanny ability to read her like a book, and a compulsive need to show her that he's got it, that he's got her, and that she doesn't need to worry about something as frivolous as planning if she doesn't want to.

Today might be a first, though.

There's a frown marring his lips as he watches her read over the same page of the menu thrice, a tired furrow to her brow. Her fingers tap a rhythm to the table he doesn't recognise, and there's this general air of enthusiasm that he clocked the moment he came home.

"Are you looking for something specific, because the wine selection can't be that detailed." She seems to startle at the comment, finally putting the menu down.

"It's nothing." She mumbles, shifting her gaze to him briefly, before it flickers back down to the tiny printed text.

Kuroo hums, not convinced. "You know," he starts, because if anything, Kuroo Tetsurou is a man of tact. "I said in my vows that I'd make you smile everyday, and so far I haven't been successful once today, so give it up. I know something's wrong."

"You're a sap." The comments earns her a chuckle and a squeeze of her hand across the table.

"Guilty." Kuroo shrugs. "Now give it up. Someone bothering you?"

There's an internal fight of sorts before his persistence finally sways her.

"Not someone, just...." She loosens out an exhale, seems to sink back into her seat, resigned. "The entire day, I guess. Meetings didn't go well, I barely made a deadline, and I had to chase a client down for hours." She wrinkles her nose in disgust. "I bounced from secretary to secretary until I snapped. I'm just exhausted I guess?"

"Wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that." Kuroo nods wisely, grin widening at the glare she shoots him with. "We could've cancelled, you just had to say the word."

"I didn't want to." She admits, watching his fingers curl around hers, warm and steady. "I usually love our Fridays, I didn't want to miss one just because I wasn't feeling it."

Kuroo clicks his tongue and stands in one smooth motion.

She's known him forever, and the transition he made from lanky, awkward high school boy to this (mostly, he still has his moments) graceful, lean businessman still surprises her often.

A couple of bills are deposited on the table, before he pulls her up by the arm, weaving between tables and leading her straight towards the exit with a hand on the small of her back, her coat draped over his other arm.

"No point staying if you don't want to be here. I don't give a shit about where we are. We could be stuck in a ditch and I'd still love our Fridays." He leans down to smile at her. "We'll stay in, yeah? I'll even let you hog the TV with those trashy reruns of Love Island."

"Please, you like them more than I do!" The cold hits them as they step into the street, Kuroo immediately helps her into her coat, pulls it snug around her while they walk to the carpark.

"Do not! I'm way above that."

"Says the man who hides the remote so I can't change the channel."

"Hey now, the couch cushions run deep." Kuroo smiles victoriously at the giggle he earns, slows to a stop under a streetlight to take him looking down at her.

"There she is." He whispers, leans down to kiss the smile off her face, sweet and self-assured. "Had me worried for a second."

"I'm okay." She assures him, watches the slope of his shoulder's relax. "Thank you for this. For everything. For just...for being you." The words are soft, intimate, they prompt Kuroo to huff out a laugh and press his lips to the wedding ring on her finger, the one he remembers beings horribly anxious to buy a year ago.

"I think I'm the lucky one no matter which narrative you spin." That easy smile of his reminds her of how she fell in love. He was sweet, considerate, and the perfect amount of playful that spoke to her without being cruel or nasty.

"Debatable," She hums, watching the spark of a challenge gleam in his eyes as he holds open the car door for her.

"Oh, I'm making you take that back."

The rest of the car ride is playful bickering, pinches to thighs and hands intertwined over consoles, and by the time they're home, changed into pajamas and a boneless heap on the couch, there is not a remnant of tension in either's shoulders.

Just content. Pure, gilded, easy content.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(2/08/2024)

221 notes · View notes

ezekielonlysleptfor2hourd · 18 days ago

Text

✎ ✉︎. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Bastards VS Zombies

I got inspired by @Z4ync and their Fanfic! Decided to post one of my own! So thank you z4ync for the inspiration!!!!!

——————————.𖥔 ݁ ˖☾𖤓☽.𖥔 ݁ ˖———————————

This fanfic will have my Kamor. It’s after the whole series ends (which I have no clue what GBA will pull us into. Anyways, Kamor and the gang defeated the big bad (annoying ass Mad Crow) and Kamor regained his voice. Plus, Albus gets faithful back and his family. (He gets his happy break!)

✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩ ✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩ ✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡⋆✩ ✩⋆｡‧₊˚⭑˚₊‧｡

Little facts on my Kamor, after the whole training from both Hipswitch and Albus, Kamor was naturally flexible (from his past life). Plus, he’s stubborn with medical issues (trauma from the Crow Loser). He also sometimes forgets he can talk and sometimes just goes mute. And a little fun silly fact that I decided on my version of Kamor, Kamor is talented in Aerial silks! Cause he’s a silly little guy!

It was four days since their lives were twisted by the storm of the battle with The Mad Crow. Hipswitch still can barely wrap his head around the events. But he shakes his head as that wasn’t the most important thing in the moment. He hesitated at the doorway before entering the medical room. He saw Mahatma fidget with his steps, turning again and again. Mahatma was worried, even Attila couldn’t calm the restless Doctor.

Hipswitch grab Doc’s shoulder making the poor sleep deprivation Doctor jump, he was also confused about the event that happened four days ago, which made Mahatma jumpy. Mahatma relaxed at the sight of Hipswitch but his calmness was only like a fleeting gush of wind on a hot day. Mahatma stammered, searching for the right words to say to the Obscuran who he came to see as a family member.

“Hipswitch.. I- he’s.. doing better.. I’m sorry I- i should be doing more but-“

Hipswitch shook his head. He knew mahatma was practically pushing his limit to provide the best care to Kamor.

“You’re doing all you can doc, it’s.. fine”

Hipswitch's gaze moved to the unconscious black hair man. In the battle between the psycho man in a crow mask, Kamor had used a large amount of his power that were still unknown to the group, Kamor’s hands stain with the unknown blackness ink. His heart beat and respiratory have gone back to their normal rhythm. Hipswitch reached for Kamor’s hand, the robot felt a sense of relief that his partner is recovering, well only a bit. Mostly everyone took Kamor’s comatose state differently. Mahatma poured his heart and soul in research on the best ways to care for a comatose patient. Even Attila felt a pang of annoyance about how he felt helpless. Albus, well he.. let’s just said, Hipswitch was thankful that he now more help with Albus, Faithful seemed to have a way on calming the idiotic warrior. In the meantime, Hipswitch focused on hunting bounties down, they still need to pay bills and now add the expense of Kamor's cares.

Obscurans don’t feel. Society can’t see them feeling. They all think Obscurans are a tool pretending to be living. So why has Hipswitch.. feel this ache in his chest? Worse yet, Hipswitch was a bounty hunter, this job literally makes you stop being merciful, it’s best not work space to feel. But yet, Hipswitch was like this, and Kamor seems to have a way of making feel it’s okay for him to be.. well him.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚

Back in the medical room, the sound of the beeping of the ventilator and Mahatma’s bouncing foot. Attila scolded him in his head. Mahatma sighed

“Sorry.. sorry it’s just.. Kamor been .. he’s been asleep for four days. I- I don’t know how to—“

Mahatma stop as he heard the beeping going off. He panicked as he assumed the worst possible scenario. Kamor flatlined! He turned around and stumbled off his chair. His eyes widen as he saw.. Kamor sitting up on the bed, ripping off the very expensive medical equipment. He rushed up and stumbled off

“Wait wait! I- I have so many questions but please stop ripping those off! Hipswitch spend a lot-“

Kamor coughed as he looked up confused

“Wha-“

Kamor coughed dryly. Mahatma stop for a second. Kamor talked. Well a word.. kinda. But he talked! But Kamor kept coughing probably cause his throat is probably dried like the sand dooms. Mahatma rushed to grab a glass of water and then watched Kamor drink half a gallon. Kamor lets out a exhausted sigh

“How..- how long have I.. been.. asleep?”

“Four days, well.. four days and 12 hours.. so 108 hours.?

Mahatma poked Kamor’s cheek. Kamor looked at mahatma

“I’m not a zombie.. I’m.. fin-“

Kamor tried to get off from bed. He fell on his face cause Albus decided that was a perfect time to visit

“Welp! You’re awake, finally. You have Hipswitch and Mahatma a scare. Not me, I knew you’ll pull through!-“

Attila laughed

“you were sobbing like a baby! Faithful had to drag your ass so you could get some sun!”

Albus punches Attila’s shoulder. Mahatma whines

“Ow! Why Albus…”

Albus shrugs “it’s Attila fault!”

Kamor chuckled. He missed this bantering, he shuttled as he remembered his time in his own mind. The darkness surrounding him like an inky sea. He shook it off as he looked around.

“Where’s.. Hipswitch?”

Albus held his hand to stop Attila to keep him punching him in the jaw. Albus blinked

“You talk? Huh.. your voice isn’t how i imagined. You sound.. what’s the word.. uhh.. posh?”

Kamor glared at him. He’s insulted, mostly cause it’s Albus calling HIM “posh”. Where even did he learn the word Posh. Kamor knows he can’t read.

“Well you don’t have your horn- where are your horns?”

Kamor wobbled up, leaning on the bed for support. Albus chuckled

“Yeah.. it seem the demon blood was like.. What did Delvin say.. something about being like fuel and I used it all up.. something like that. So I’m back to being a regular handsome warrior.”

Kamor snorts

“Alright all mighty Warrior. You didn’t answer my question, where’s Hipswitch?”

Albus grins “Aw, you miss your roboyfriend?”

Kamor glares at him “I will literally make sure you even get a drop of alcohol. Don’t test me.”

Albus smiled “try threatening me without you in that dress.”

Kamor groans in frustration “it’s a hospital gown asshole! Mahatma, can I wear my clothes please!”

Mahatma smiled “Sure but let me do a quick checkup!”

Kamor frowns “Do we..?”

Attila growled “Yes moron, we need to check you aren’t bleeding internally. But be my guest. Just don’t come crying to us when you throw up blood.”

Kamor sneered

“Oh great. I really didn’t miss your attitude Attila.. but fine. NO NEEDLES. I mean it, don’t think I won’t stab Mahatma with it, I will.”

⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆ ⋆♱✮♱⋆

After that “lovely” check up, Albus help Kamor search for the robot. Kamor looked worried, he clutched his shirt, what was he going to say? What was Hipswitch going to say to him? What if Hipswitch wants him to leave? Or what if.. Hipswitch doesn’t feel the same? Is it a bad idea to confess? After all the mess, will Hipswitch accept him? To still be his.. partner?

Kamor hadn’t noticed when Albus left. He snap out of his thoughts as he heard that familiar honeyed voice

“Partner..?”

Kamor froze. He turn to see him. That robot, the one who made him feel alive again. Hipswitch was in shock, Kamor was awake. He looked okay. Albeit frazzle and thin, but he was awake. Hipswitch wanted to hug him, but would Kamor like that? Before Hipswitch could utter anything. Kamor ran to him, stumbling a bit since he hadn’t use his legs for four days. Hipswitch caught him

“Partner! Be careful-“

“Thank the gods! You’re okay.. you aren’t.. I- I was so scared.. I saw you so hurt in the fight .. I-“

Hipswitch stop, Kamor was worried for him? Hipswitch held Kamor closer

“I am partner, Devlin fixed me up, actually gave me a few new updates. But I’m fine- wait. You can speak now?”

Kamor stop, his worry disappeared as he bursted out laughing

“You barely just noticed? Why is everyone so shocked. Is my voice that disturbing?”

Hipswitch shook his head “What? No! Nono, I didn’t mean that partner!”

Kamor smiled “I’m only teasing you. But I’m glad you’re okay.. really am..”

Kamor hugged him tighter “I didnt know what I would do if you were hurt..”

Hipswitch tilted his head “I’m sure you would. I mean Albus and Mahatma would have-“

Kamor glares up “They aren’t you! Geez Hipswitch, I care for you! You know you deserve people to care for you too.”

Hipswitch stop. He looked down, Kamor could have swore he saw a smile. Kamor smiled back

“Hipswitch I have to tell you something important..”

Hipswitch senses Kamor’s seriousness. He nods as Kamor takes a deep breath. He looks at him

“I lo—“

Just then, a freaking sandworm decided to show up! Curse its horrible timing. On cue like if Kamor’s life was a movie Albus laughed. Kamor is going to kill the bastard! He turn to Hipswitch

“Screw it! I’m not wasting the courage I build. I like you!”

Kamor blushed like some idiot. Gods, just take him now. He shuts his eyes. But he felt familiar arms around his waist as he was yanked away from the sandworm. Hipswitch was carrying him! This.. felt kinda familiar. Well except the WHOLE ASS SAND WORM CHASING THEM.

Hipswitch looked at Kamor. His voice filled with emotion he never expected to ever feel

“I like you too Partner, I’m happy to be your partner too..”

Kamor smiled

“Yeah!”

Roll end credits!!

#goodboyaudios #gba bvz #bastard vs zombies #fiction #goodboyaudios albus #fan theory #goodboyaudios karmor #goodboyaudios hipswitch #good boy audios #goodboyaudios faithless #i forgot the tag

62 notes · View notes

theorphicangel · 1 year ago

Text

𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬. | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨’𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Tags: enemies to lovers, college au, smut, 18+, slow burn,

synopsis: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single, brooding man in possession of a good future in genetics, must be in want of a girlfriend.

Or at least a fake one to get his family off his back.

(college au & fake dating trope ft my favourite grumpy man who doesn't fall first but ends up falling harder. ouch.)

Chapter two: low expectations.

taglist: @oharasfilipinawife @palesatan @yougavemeyourheartyouknow @amelialysm @crimin4llyins4ne

A/N: sorry for the late update, but imma catch you guys up 🫡

previous chapter | next chapter

Over the next few days you manage to get your pre-reading all done and dusted.

You can’t help but already feel exhausted by the amount of things that you have to juggle at university.

Just as soon as you were completed with one task, you groaned at the thought of your long list of remaining errands. Bills, assignments, grocery shopping and your shifts at the cafe were all piled on top of you constantly, not to mention your attempt to attend your lectures and classes, double checking that they were the right ones.

But the most stressful by far was trying to avoid your mother’s calls, which occurs at least twice a day. As of recently, you had thought that you were safe, coming up with excuses left, right and center.

At least that was before you had seen a missed call from your dad this morning.

That’s how you know that you’re really in the shits.

You’re gonna have to come up with something. And in quick timing.

But for now, you’re going to have to sideline your personal dilemmas.

With your new job at the cafe, you have no choice but to remain consistent with your routine, that is of course, if you want your new job to last.

After weeks of rejection or rather, the lack of replies, you had managed to secure a job at your roommate’s favorite cafe spot.

And by secure you mean that you had sort of lied about having experience in a cafe previously.

You didn’t entirely lie…just exaggerated the truth a little bit.

This was one of the only jobs that had replied to you out of a whole stockpile and you weren’t going to let it go to waste. Not under any circumstances.

You did have the experience of watching and observing what your classmate did at her family owned cafe whilst you were on the till for a few minutes.

But nonetheless, what’s so hard about making coffee? Anyone can do this shit. It’s okay if you’re learning on the job, doesn’t everyone? Currently, you succeed in trying to rotate between keeping track of orders and making drinks as well as trying not to get in MJ’s way too much.

But you were handling it to the best of your abilities. Even if that did mean messing up a few of your customers' orders every once in a while. MJ had said nothing about it so far which means that you're in the green light.

For now.

“You really should be getting some sleep, don’t let your first year knock you out before midterms.” She acknowledges, elbowing you slightly.

“I kno–” you barely finish your sentence, another yawn coming out of nowhere.

“See?” She hums, finishing off an order for the previous customer. “You need some beauty sleep.”

She’s referring to your bruised under eye bags that have started to appear. Ultimately, the results of you staying up till midnight yesterday to finish off an assignment. You had only managed to get a few hours of sleep before waking up in time for your 6am shift.

“I also need money, but we can’t have it all can we MJ?” you note, keeping your tone light before you move on to serve another customer.

You’ve only been on shift for a couple of hours but you think you’re coping well so far. MJ forewarned you about the morning lecture rush hour. You guessed that it was soon by glancing at the old clock hung up on the wall, indicating that it was just after 8:30 am. Students continued to spill in and out of the cafe, the bell above the front door continuously ringing in your ears.

A small line had begun to queue up and you swiftly moved through them with ease. As your next customer came up to the counter, your face lit up at the sight of a familiar face.

“Oh hey stranger–” you begin, recognising the same grueling face that you had seen last week bore into you. But you barely get a chance to finish your sentences before he cuts you off sharply.

“Coffee. Black.”

Your mouth forms an ‘o’ as you tap his order into the machine, immediately sensing his disgruntled aura. By the expression on his face, you can tell that he doesn’t seem up for teasing.

He seems…frustrated? Or maybe even upset?

“Name?”

“Miguel.”

You can’t tell whether he’s cranky because it’s 8am in the morning or rather that you failed to notice this the last time you saw him. Either way, it makes you a little dazed. Perhaps he wasn’t a morning person. You understood that because you were the complete same. Taking his name, you brush him off instead hoping that your coffee will cheer him up.

You inform him of the price and he swipes his card without a second glance. He leaves to take a seat in one of the corners of the cafe which just so happens to be the only part of the cafe that wasn’t so overwhelmed with customers.

It’s not long before you head over there yourself with his order.

“Here’s your black coffee.” you say, setting it down in front of him. Hastily, you’re about to run off to prepare your next order before his words stop you.

“I ordered a black coffee. Not a latte.”

You turn around abruptly, realizing your full mistake. “Oh shit, I’m sorry—”

“Are you new here or just incapable of making a simple cup of black coffee?” Miguel interrupts, his tone laced with vexation.

“Who do you think you’re–”

Your outrage comes to a halt by the sound of your name being called by MJ. You glance over your shoulder and notice her point towards an ever growing queue of customers. Shit, you don’t have time to cuss him out.

Taking a deep breath, you make the decision to be the bigger person, after all it’s like what your manager Steve said…

‘ The customer is always right.’

“I’ll bring it over for you, m’sorry.” you apologize again, rubbing at your forehead, suddenly overwhelmed with the pressure. With sweat beading at your brows, you look over to see a small queue beginning in front of the till again.

MJ throws you a hurried glance, a look which you know means ‘hurry the fuck up and make these orders.’

You end up taking longer than five minutes to return back to him, run ragged with the new orders of coffees, teas, lattes, macchiatos and hot chocolates that continue to pile up.

“Here you go, sorry about that.” You place his new and correct drink in front of him.

“No worries.”

You’re almost taken aback by his response. First he snaps at you and now he’s telling you not to worry about it? God, he was so confusing.

“Enjoy.”

You think that you hear a mutter of ‘thanks’ leave his mouth but you don’t turn back to hear his words clearly. Yet… you can’t exactly keep away.

For some reason your brain keeps lingering towards a burning question which has rattled your mind all through the past week. Giving in to your temptations, you end up turning around and prompt Miguel with another question.

“How did you know ‘Pride and Prejudice’ was set in the 19th century?”

“Huh?” He glances up from his phone, his thumb paused in his mindless scrolling.

“Last time, when I saw you in the library. You knew it was set in the 19th century.”

“I didn’t.'' Miguel huffs, and your eyes can help but notice the size of his biceps. You estimate that they’re bigger than your fucking hands. “It was an estimated guess.”

“Really? You don’t seem too-”

“Listen.” Miguel quips, his sharp tone suddenly returning, causing your voice to trail off midway through your sentence. His fingers pinch the bridge of his nose as he speaks. “I’m going to try and say this in the nicest way possible, but I’m really not in the mood for some crap about your literature degree, okay? I really couldn’t care less.”

Ouch.

Your expression drops and you’re immediately aware of the distance between the two of you.

He’s right. You barely know him. He’s just a guy who just so happened to be there at one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. “Right, sorry.”

You’re about to leave his table before he stops you…again.

“Y’know I ought to tell your manager that you messed up my order.” Miguel begins, continuing to scroll on his phone, not bothering to even look up at you. “This is a very reputable cafe and if you start slacking on the job then…”

“Then what?” You question. “Are you trying to threaten me with a bad review?”

“I wouldn’t necessarily say threaten is the right word but…now that you say that perhaps I should write one.”

Your stomach drops at his words. “Oh, you fucking wouldn’t.”

He smirks, still peering down at his phone. “Maybe I would.”

“Bet.”

“Don’t start betting on things that you’ll end up regretting, nena.”

Your brow raises at his phrase which you don’t entirely understand but you really don’t have time to question it. Your patience is running out as well as your time to get back on track with the orders.

As you walk away from his table, his words seem to settle into your skin.

He wouldn’t? Would he? No… he hasn’t got the balls to. What kind of person has that amount of free time on their hands to write a bad review? At least he had gotten his coffee in the end, you were in your right mind not to spill it all over him on purpose.

“He’s a dick, he’s a dick, he’s a total dick.” You mutter under your breath, making your way back to your station. But you should’ve guessed that from your conversation with him in the library, recalling his mocking tone of your embarrassment.

You should’ve kept your expectations low if you ever thought that you were going to be friends with him.

“What did you say?” MJ queries, hearing your mumbles as you join her.

You nod towards Miguel, still sitting in the far corner scrolling mindlessly on his phone.

“He’s an evil, brooding…” You fail to think of an appropriate ending.

“Dick?” MJ ends.

“Correct.” you say. You promise to yourself that from this moment onwards you are refraining from looking over at that corner.

You find that time passes quickly during your shift and once the rush hour of students finally dies down, you and MJ get the chance to finally take a break.

“Fucking hell, I never want to do that again.” She murmurs wiping down the surfaces near the coffee machines for any spilt substances.

“Ditto that.” you murmur, grabbing a cloth to wipe down some empty tables.

Learning that MJ was a performing arts student made you more than happy to get along well with her. She was in her second year, yet in a sea of sickening STEM students here you had real proof that you weren’t the only humanities student.

Take that Miguel.

Currently eating dinner alone in your apartment, you reminisce on your day in silence, your roommate out at her weekly computer coding club. You think that it was safe to say that it was a good day today, despite all the stresses at work.

Speaking of work, you recall the conversation from this morning.

You don’t want to give this Miguel guy too much credit but you’d be lying if you said that his threat earlier didn’t scare the shit out of you for the remainder of your day.

Even MJ had to ask if you were alright when it got to the end of your shift and you had brushed it off, blaming it on your exhaustion.

He was totally bluffing….right? I mean, he doesn’t even know you.

You bite down on your metallic fork, anxiety rapidly filling you within.

No, you can’t help it. You have to check.

Chewing on your fingernails, you type in the name of the cafe that you work out and head over to the reviews section on Google.

Scrolling down to find the latest reviews, your stomach practically drops at one comment, under the simple username of: @miguelohara20.

‘New barista lacked the ability to do her job. Couldn’t pay attention to even get my order right. Talks way too much unprovoked, to the point where you might as well save some money and make the damn coffee yourself.’

The fucking nerve of this guy causes so much anger within you that your fork practically falls from your other hand as you immediately go to text MJ. You send her a screenshot before typing with fury.

- ‘Did you see this? This was that guy that I was complaining about earlier: the rude, evil, brooding STEM one.’

Sent: 7:34pm

It’s not long before you receive a reply from MJ and it’s one that makes your stomach drop.

- ‘Yeah I did :/ Steve texted me about it actually.

Received: 7:36pm

MJ sends through another text, a few seconds later.

- ‘He wants a meeting with you on ‘customer etiquette’ !!

Received 7:36pm

Dropping your phone on the table, you let out a groan, holding your head in your hands. Now, this day went from ‘good’ to being the second worst day of your life, now with your job on the line.

Yeah…you think you fucking hate Miguel now.

reblogs are much appreciated!

lmk if you would like to join the taglist!

#angel writes #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara atsv #spider man: across the spider verse #spiderman atsv #atsv headcanons #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #atsv x reader

298 notes · View notes

atinylittlepain · 1 year ago

Text

Warm

college!steve harrington x f!oc

series masterlist

Steve gets flustered in an art museum. She kind of likes it.

18+ smut, normal hairy female bodies, steve is kind of a perv in the best way, smut duh, and verrryyyyyy sweet, also robin and eddie being good roommates

note: the painting that Andy and Steve look at is called l'origine du monde by Gustave Corbet and you can check it out here. This fic is for bush (not the president) and bush only, thanks.

.............................................................................

Steve is a good guy, right? Right. Respectful, respectable, two percent in his cheerios in the morning, light wash denim and clean sneakers, and he flosses two times a day, clean bill at every dentist appointment and he shows it, curls half a smile when he holds the door open for girls on campus, all ease, all-American and alright. Studying business, and of course he is, though his parents don’t know about the women’s studies minor he picked up all because of a flushed little crush on a professor that never amounted to anything, coupled with Robin strong-arming him into taking a few more classes with her. But that’s okay, he likes the classes, and he likes the classmates.

“Do you need a partner?”

“Hmm? Oh, I was just going to work alone actually.” Big scarf tucked up around her neck and a big coat wrapped up around her and she barely even glances at him down the slope of her nose, already refocusing on the painting in front of her. But he’s a good guy, right? Right. A real team player, tilting his head, and letting his hair fall into his face, a little shy, a little smile. She glances at him, unimpressed hook of her brow and her eyelashes lifting up over the rims of her glasses. Her name is Andy, he knows, though they haven’t spoken, at least not directly. She’s been known to correct him in class however, her hand raising after his, quick and cutting. He maybe, kinda, sorta likes that.

“I think we’re supposed to, you know, discuss what we’re looking at with each other for the VHS thing.”

“VTS.”

“What?”

“It’s called VTS. Visual thinking strategies. Are you sure you want to discuss this painting with me?”

“I’m game if you are.” She smiles, and he’s already thinking about which of her palms he’d like to write his number on. But when he finally looks at the painting, he finds himself to be a lot less concerned with his phone number.

“So, Steve, what’s the first thing you notice about this painting?”

“Um, well, I–”

“Is it too much for you?” Heat is prickling in a bloom up his neck, her smile sharp as her eyes flit between him and the painting, the painting that he really should have looked at before approaching her.

“No, no, it’s not too much. It’s– appreciation of the female form, right?” He’s not sure where to look any more, a strange kaleidoscope with how quickly his eyes are darting between scraps of the painting and her face. A freckle under her eye, and then swaths of cream and pink brush strokes and then the hitch in her cheek where her smile curves and then, and then.

“Hair.” His voice pitches and cracks somewhere in the word, turning one syllable into two like a hiccup. She laughs a clipped sound.

“Hair?”

“Around her– around her–”

“Around her cunt?” Something hot tightens in his chest, maybe shame, though shame doesn’t feel good like this does. He feels foolish, the quick whip of his head around like he’s worried they’re going to get caught, though for what he isn’t sure. Likewise, he has no clue what’s causing this devastating fluster, this feathering of heat. Whatever it is, it’s making it very hard to look at her, though the way his gaze has fixed on the painting doesn’t feel much better either. He’s never heard a woman use that word before. Actually, scratch that, he’s pretty sure he’s never heard anyone use that word before, not in Hawkins, at least, not corn fed and halfway bible bred, at least. It sets something slick shimmering inside of him, something warm that’s making it hard to think.

“Are you blushing?”

“I’m not, I’m just appreciating the work.”

“L’origine du monde.”

“What was that?”

“That’s the name of the painting. Origin of the world.”

“Well, that, uh, I guess that tracks.”

“It’s a shame, don’t you think?” When he does finally look at her again, she’s smiling, all ease, all cool, and him anything but, his fingers tapping a nervous rhythm into his hip.

“What’s a shame?” She sighs, a long sound, letting her neck roll to the side so her cheek scrunches into the plush of her scarf, a wistful look.

“The current trends. Looking like prepubescent girls. No hips, bald vaginas, everything so… sterile.” She speaks with a bluntness that winds him, if he’s being honest, her expression schooled, and maybe a little disillusioned, brow pinched and mouth pulling down in a grimace.

“I guess I hadn’t really thought about it.”

“Yeah, well, you have a cock. Makes things a little simpler, doesn’t it?”

“Jesus Christ, do you always talk like this?” He says it just a little too loud, a little too breathless, heads turning in the gallery around them, and he thinks he might regret even trying with this girl. Should’ve stuck with the tried and true, that blonde girl that wears sticky sweet lip gloss and smiles at him from across the room during lectures. But this girl, with her arched brow and her twitching smile and the dark flicker of nail polish when she smooths the throat of her scarf. This girl has his number, and not in the way he’d like her to.

“What do you prefer, Steve? Do you like a girl with a smooth shave?”

“Well I think that, um, a woman’s body is her own choice.” And it has to be the dumbest string of words he’s ever said, breathed out on two static exhales, a garbled parroting of what he’s learned in these classes, right? Well, sort of.

“How progressive of you.”

“But the painting is really, you know, it’s, um, it feels warm?” Not sure where that came from, another fresh flood of heat rising and buoying up into his cheeks. Though her expression seems to soften, her smirk falling into something lighter. Maybe, maybe, he got one right.

“Yeah, I think I get what you mean. There’s a softness to it that’s beautiful, don’t you think?”

“Mmhmm.”

“But also a strength, a frankness to it.”

“Yes, yeah.” That sick swirl of shame but not shame is receding, and only leaving a nice sort of haze in its place, his head lolling a little, eyes raking over the painting, the catch of light, the soft rounding of a body at rest, slumped and plush and kind of perfect, he thinks. Although he’s pretty sure Andy would correct him for perfect, perfect not being the point, because perfect is oppressive, right? Right. Fuck perfect, he thinks, this is something better than perfect. And maybe she is too.

“Steve?” Her hand on his arm, purple nail polish and a close-lipped smile snapping him back into his body, hmm? And her smile spreads, and the warmth does too, and she’s saying something about the prof calling them back together and he’s mmhmm-ing on the heels of her brown leather boots. And she sits next to him when they get back on the bus, Robin giving him a stink eye that breezes right over the top of his head as she passes down the aisle because he’s a little busy trying to take discreet inhales through his nose of whatever perfume Andy wears, spice and strong and warm, that same warm.

And it isn’t his number that gets jotted onto her palm, but her address that she scrawls onto the soft inside of his wrist, right over the catch and jump of his pulse, because she has invited him over for a drink tonight to continue our conversation from earlier.

Robin doesn’t even have a chance to snit at him for leaving her stranded to the back of the bus because he’s already shuffling her along by the crooked wing of his elbow, hands tucked down deep in his jacket pockets, snow starting to flit and fall from the gray hang of sky.

“I need your help.”

“You have a date.”

“I’m not sure.”

“It’s a date. She was like, rubbing your wrist. That’s a date.”

“I need your help.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Because Andy is not light washed denim and polo shirts and two percent milk. He’s seen her in the campus coffee shop, she takes soy, sometimes almond, for the record. So when they get back to their apartment, the smell of electric heat washing over them and curling in their lungs, they don’t go to Steve’s closet, they go to Robin’s.

Robin’s first pull is a turtleneck. He scoffs.

“What? Turtleneck dudes are definitely that chick’s type. Are you kidding me right now?” And when he assures her that he is, in fact, not kidding her right now, Robin starts to rummage again, eventually coming back out with a t-shirt for a band that Steve only knows because he has asked Robin to turn their music down on several occasions. And before he can say anything Robin is please hold-ing him and shouting down the hall for Eddie.

“What?”

“Steve has a date with a cool girl.”

“Cool girl, what cool girl?”

“Soc major, with the boots.”A little flurry of activity, socked feet slipping down the hall and Eddie hanging off the doorframe of his room, Steve not able to get a word in edgewise between their rapid fire volley.

“No, really? Little different for you, man, isn’t it?”

“I–”

“We need your closet, excuse us.” Robin on the warpath and Eddie grinning big, and Steve somewhere in the middle.

“How’d this happen?”

“She–”

“They were talking about art.” Robin reappearing with a long-sleeved thermal gripped in her other hand, eyebrows waggling.

“Steven? Our Steven? Talking about art? Well, well, well.” If he just had time he’d say something back to Eddie about how he got kicked out of the art museum last weekend for making quacking noises every time the security guard took a step, but Robin is already ushering him back down the hall, into his room this time, shoving the bundle of clothes into his chest and slamming the door shut on her way out.

Eddie is anemic and tends to eat breakfast when the sun is going down, and Robin is Robin, so it’s a tight fit getting the thermal on, followed by the t-shirt. But looking in the mirror, he thinks he likes it, gives an experimental and not at all vain flex of his arms that makes the sleeves of the tshirt roll back up toward the round of his shoulders and yeah, he likes that. And when he steps out of his room, Robin and Eddie already hovering and humming their approval, that warmth starts to build and bloom all over again.

And the rest is a little hazy from there. Robin offers him two refrigerator-chilled potstickers from last night’s dinner, something about fuel for your evening, Stevening, while Eddie pours himself a bowl of corn pops and prattles about something he learned in his music theory class, dissonance and skipped beats, and Steve can understand the feeling. And then they’re both kicking him out with an all too solemn godspeed, soldier. Eddie even salutes him.

Andy lives on the opposite side of campus in a cropping of apartments in a building that looks kind of like a castle, old brownstone and wrought iron. She buzzes him up, opens the door in a thin turtleneck and jeans, her head tilting and her lip pouting, just a little.

“Where’d the polo shirt go?”

“I changed.” Excellent, he thinks, how astute of him. She smiles.

“I can see. I wouldn’t have pegged you as a Bikini Kill fan though.” He’s trying to focus on her as she leads him deeper into her apartment, though his eyes still wander. Old wood flooring that’s barely visible underneath the thick swaths of patterned rugs. A crushed velvet, lime green sofa sitting in front of a fireplace that’s packed full with books. The kitchen is tucked into a corner, a little patch of black and white linoleum, old appliances. She’s pouring wine at the counter with her foot pressed into her other calf in a sort of shortened tree pose, and she’s asking him if he likes red, and he nods, all the while thinking to himself that he hasn’t consumed enough wine that doesn’t come in boxes to really care what color it is.

They sit down on the lime green sofa, her arm draped over the back of it, fingers tipped toward him. And he’s trying not to be such a dweeb about it, really, he’s not, but it only takes a few bashful glances to know that she very much is not wearing a bra. And he likes that, likes that a lot. Likes the soft curve and fold of her stomach with the way she’s turned toward him, the stretch of her jeans at her hips, her thighs, and his mouth goes dry around a gulp of wine when he starts to think about that painting again, and he starts to think about her, and he starts to think about her and the painting together. He starts to wonder, to wonder, to wonder what similarities he might find between the two.

There’s conversation, quiet and meandering and murmuring, their mouths staining dark and rosy from the wine, bodies turning warm and pliant and inching closer, closer, closer. And it all starts to melt, empty glasses set aside and her hand slipping into the back of his hair and she’s going to be the one in control, isn’t she? Fine by him, lax and languid in her hands, letting her tilt his face toward her. The first kiss is surprisingly sweet, just a peck to the corner of his mouth that makes him breathe hard through his nose in a petty huff of anticipation. She grins, lets the next one take its time, a little deeper, a little more heat, open mouth against open mouth, and he groans when her tongue slips behind his teeth.

This would be enough, he thinks. This time, at least. Her settling into his lap, little pants of breath between the wet snap of lips and spit and tongues. His hands squeeze at her thighs, coaxing a skittering sound from her throat when he reaches back and cups her ass, fingers splayed and pressing petulant. He’s going to feel her fingers in his scalp for a few days, the little hurts, little pulls. The next time she pulls away she presses her hand into his chest to keep him at bay, even as he tilts his chin up, feeling young in his eagerness as she smiles wide-eyed at him.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Both of them whispering, and when they both realize they don’t know why they’re whispering, both of them giggling, getting away with something when she pulls him up off the couch and into her bedroom.

“Why is this shirt so tight?” She huffs it out with the tshirt halfway rucked up his torso, his hair falling in his face as he curls over trying to help her get it off, both of them breathing out a laugh when the fabric finally is up and over and off of him.

“Oh baby, your hair.” He likes baby, baby feels good, feels like another warm bloom in his chest, his smile turning sheepish when she reaches both hands into his hair, shaking it out at the roots before smoothing it back for him. He chases after her hand, manages to press a kiss to her palm before she’s reaching for the hem of his, Eddie’s, thermal. It comes off easier, quieter, her eyes softening as she takes in his bare chest, catching him off guard when she ducks her head down to press a kiss to the dip that connects the lines of his collar bone, there and gone, little sweetness, little warmth as she steps back and grins.

“Do you wanna lay down for me?” Not even a thought, just ligament and muscle moving, some sort of game dancing between their eyes as he settles back on his elbows against the dark fabric of her duvet. He watches the fine flicker of her fingers make deft work of the buttons of her jeans. An absent-minded thing, the heel of his palm pressed to the ache, to the heat. He’s already hard, already smearing warm against the front of his boxers watching her step out of her jeans.

“Oh fuck, honey.” A little pained, the sweet prickle of agony, of being right. A vision somewhere between obscenity and divinity, he thinks, though that would be playing into the madonna-whore complex their professor was lecturing about last week. He doesn’t care, doesn’t care about much of anything except continuing to look at Andy, the soft divot at her waist where her white cotton thong settles against the soft curve of skin, and the dark bloom of curls along the sides of the material where her thighs touch. He was right, and now he’s doomed.

She smiles, finger hooking in the hem of her shirt and pulling it up just a little, exposing the sweet dip and swell of her stomach, and suddenly he’s not so interested in just laying back any more. Greedy, he feels the slick, desperate curl of it in his gut. Greedy when he shuffles up onto his knees and crawls to the end of the bed. Greedy when his hands curl at the fat of her hips and he pulls her in closer so he can press the open heat of his mouth just above her navel, soft and warm and he wants more of it, of her. She sighs, a long, languid sound that he wants to hear more of, dipping his head down to mouth at the jut of her hip, dampening the fabric slung taut there.

Limbs tangled with limbs, some of it graceless, awkward, some of it perfect motion. She lays out like a painting, like the painting, for him, her turtleneck curled up around her sternum so he can palm a handful of her breast, settling down between her thighs and wasting no time in dragging his tongue through her cunt.

She wasn’t wrong about the trends. Hairless bodies, smooth bodies, flinchingly pristine bodies. And that’s fine, he thinks, been with plenty of bodies like that, made his body like that for a while too. But he likes this, likes her, the sense and sate of it, the scent of it, even if it makes him a pervert, lapping at her while he curls two fingers inside her. And somewhere in the simpering sear of it, his hips have started to jerk and stutter into the mattress beneath him, picking up a stilted speed when she starts to moan, clipped sounds and his name and he wants it and he wants it and he wants it so bad. She comes with a long sigh that cracks high into a whine, her thighs tensing and slackening around his face. And he feels a warmth of his own, relief of his own, though the reality of what he did turns him sheepish, pressing a bashful smile into the swell of her inner thigh.

“Did you?” Her words crackle breathless with her grin, peering down at him from behind her forearm and he can barely look at her, turning his face back into her skin, letting his teeth graze there a little mean.

“Maybe, shut up.” Her laugh bursts and bubbles up, her head tossed back, eyes crinkled shut as he crawls up and up and up, not evening minding the uncomfortable cooling in his jeans when he presses a sloppy kiss to her mouth, turning her laugh into a satisfied hum.

“Hmm, kinda feminist of you coming in your jeans just from eating me out.” Speechless, and he kind of likes it, huffing out a breathless laugh as he watches the cartoonish jump of her eyebrows. He presses a kiss between them, sweet and simple, warm all over when he pulls back to find her smiling at him.

“I like you, a lot.” That whispering thing again, a little shy, a little young, and a little uncertain. But there’s no need for it, not when she tilts her chin up and presses a kiss to his cheek, the round of it, the warmth of it.

“I like you too, Steve.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fandom #steve harrington ficlet #steve harrington au

284 notes · View notes