#you have to ease into it first and test things

[lotuswish]

˗ˏˋ how they hold your hand (housewardens & jamil) ⭑ .ᐟ

synopsis: fingers intertwining, a gentle squeeze, the warmth of a palm against yours—how each boy holds your hand says more than words ever could. from shy, lingering touches to firm, protective grips, every gesture is a glimpse into the way they love.

featured character(s): riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto, kalim al-asim, jamil viper, vil schoenheit, idia shroud, malleus draconia.

content warning(s): none.

a/n: just a cute and silly idea i had at 3am. :3

riddle rosehearts

riddle holds your hand like it’s a delicate porcelain teacup—carefully, with just enough pressure to keep it secure. at first, his fingers are a little stiff, his cheeks faintly pink as he focuses on not fumbling. he tries so hard to get it just right, and when he feels your fingers relax in his, his grip softens, almost shyly. he’ll sneak a glance at your face, and if he catches you smiling, his hold tightens slightly, a quiet boost to his confidence.

“i hope… this isn’t too forward,” he says softly, his voice careful and deliberate, though his gaze lingers on your joined hands with the faintest hint of pride.

leona kingscholar

leona’s hand intertwines with yours with effortless confidence, his hold firm yet unhurried, carrying a subtle possessiveness—like your hand was always meant to be in his, and he has no intention of letting go. his fingers slide between yours with ease, and he occasionally shifts your hands against his leg or his side, keeping you close without making a fuss. if you try to pull away, even as a joke, he’ll tug you back with a low grumble, his tail flicking once beside him in annoyance.

“don’t start something you can’t finish, herbivore,” he drawls, his tone low and gruff. though he acts nonchalant, deep down, it's his way of keeping you close without having to say it out loud.

azul ashengrotto

azul holds your hand like he’s trying to make the perfect impression, his fingers enveloping yours carefully, almost methodically. his palm is cool, and every so often, his grip tightens subtly, like he’s testing the waters to see if this is really okay. though he maintains his composed expression, his gaze flickers nervously between your face and your joined hands. when he sees your reassuring smile, the faintest flush of pink spreads across his cheeks, despite his efforts to stay collected.

“i trust this arrangement is… satisfactory?” he asks, his voice soft and composed, but the way he clears his throat afterward betrays his nerves.

kalim al-asim

kalim grabs your hand without hesitation, his fingers threading through yours in a fluid, lively motion, like he’s been waiting to do it all along. his grip is strong and eager, a comforting warmth radiating from his palm. the giddy smile on his face makes it clear that your touch is his favorite thing in the world. as you walk, he swings your joined hands, and every so often, he’ll squeeze your hand gently or press it against his chest when he’s particularly excited about something.

“i’m so glad you’re here with me,” he says, his voice bubbling with joy, as though holding your hand is the highlight of his day.

jamil viper

jamil holds your hand with calculated ease—his touch appears casual, but every movement is deliberate. his fingers lace with yours slowly, his grip just firm enough to keep you close without drawing attention. to anyone else, it might seem detached, but the way his fingers subtly shift to match your movements or the faint, almost unnoticeable tension in his shoulders reveals the truth: he’s hyperaware of you.

he doesn’t say much, but after a quiet moment, he glances at your hands and murmurs, “you don’t have to hold on so tightly,” his tone calm, though the slight squeeze he gives your hand betrays just how much he doesn’t want you to let go.

vil schoenheit

vil holds your hand with an air of practiced elegance, his fingers lacing with yours smoothly, as if even the smallest gestures between you deserve the utmost intention and care. his grip is steady and purposeful, his hand fitting perfectly against yours. sometimes, he’ll lift your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against your knuckles before letting his fingers curl a little tighter around yours.

“your hands are quite lovely,” he murmurs, his tone carrying its usual polished air, but softer, more personal. “i suppose i shouldn’t be surprised—everything about you tends to draw the eye.”

idia shroud

idia starts by linking pinkies with you, his hand hovering awkwardly at first. his skin is warm and a little clammy, his nerves written in the way his fingers twitch slightly. after a few moments, he works up the courage to slide the rest of his fingers into place, his grip loose but earnest. his hand fidgets slightly against yours, like he’s still adjusting, but when he notices you’re not letting go, a shy, genuine smile tugs at his lips.

“uh… your hand’s… really warm,” he mutters softly, his voice unsteady as the tips of his hair flicker pink. “it’s… kinda nice, actually.”

malleus draconia

malleus holds your hand with a quiet reverence, his long fingers intertwining with yours with a gentle but steady grip. his touch carries a subtle chill, and there’s a deliberate care in the way he adjusts his hold, as if mindful of not startling you. occasionally, he lifts your hand slightly, aligning his palm with yours as if to compare their size. his fingers slowly curl around yours again, his touch gentle and his gaze filled with quiet wonder, as though the contrast holds a meaning only he can understand.

“your hands are small, child of man,” he says softly, tilting his head as if deep in thought. “yet they feel as though they were meant to be held by mine.”

congrats on making it to the end! if you enjoyed this, likes, comments, follows, and reblogs are always appreciated—they help motivate me to keep creating and sharing!

[dissolvedprincess]

Talk me through it

✷ CW : 18+, smut, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, car sex, a bit of fluff if you squint, first date

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶

Your heart was beating out of your chest. Rattling inside your ribcage, threatening to burst out; pleading to be surrendered to his hands.

“I had fun.” You smiled, mentally patting yourself on the back for even daring to say yes to this in the first place. Both of you have been tiptoeing around each other for months. Always in fear of ruining this. A bond that has been tested many times before and it always comes out tighter than ever, yet it never turns into anything beyond a friendship.

He lets his hand off the steering wheel, his car parked neatly on your driveway. He turns his head, eyes too shy to meet yours but eventually; he relented. It’s so funny how easy it always used to be to look at each other.

“Me too.” He reached over to squeeze your hand.

“Can i-“

“Can i-“

You both laughed at the same time, hand pulled away to cover the blush that appeared on your cheeks.

“Oh my god hah! i’m so sorry Josh, you go first. What were you gonna ask me?”, You tilt your head to the side; knowing the fact that it makes him flustered whenever you do that.

“No no no, it’s okay. I- I just wanted to know if- um- can i walk you to your door?”

“What! Of course you can, why are you so nervous about walking me to my door?”

He looked down while shaking his head, smiling. “You don’t know the effect you have on me.”

“Mmhm okay.”, you playfully roll your eyes.

“What were you gonna ask?”, his tone curious and…expectant?

A tingle went down your spine, there’s no more fear or doubt anymore; just excitement. You lean forward, not too close but close enough to tease him with the idea of something thrilling.

“Can i kiss you?”

You surprise yourself with how steady you sounded, expertly masking how all over the place you feel inside.

His eyes widen, mouth agape.

“Yeah..Yeah of course you can.”

The music playing in the background faded as you met in the middle, it all came down to this. The two of you were finally properly communicating with each other, teeth clashing and tongues meeting. A moan escaped you, further egging him on. You felt his hand tangling itself into your hair, your own moving to cup his jaw affectionately.

Then he reluctantly pulled away despite your protests. A string of saliva stretched and broke.

“Oh josh-“, you moaned. He was kissing and sucking on your neck. Leaving marks of ownership that you will look at tomorrow with pride. It felt so good, you rub your legs together to ease the tension. You feel so wet, desperate to have him inside you.

He trailed up to whisper into your ear, “Does it feel good? Do you like it?”, sneaking a little nibble.

You were lightheaded, you didn’t even remember if you answered properly or not. One thing led to another, then you were sitting on the backseat; panties off. Somehow it felt much dirtier to get fingered by your high school best friend/crush while being fully clothed. You even still had your sneakers on.

Josh had his arm around your neck, pillowing you; occasionally stroking the side of your face with his thumb. You found it hot to see him with his sleeves rolled half way, so he could finger you properly.

“You’re so beautiful. I could never get tired of you”, he said while he had three fingers inside your cunt. His thumb expertly stroked your clit, just as affectionate as the thumb on your cheek.

The moans you let out were embarrassing to say the least, but they don’t compare to how embarrassing your cunt sounded. Wet and sticky, drowning out the radio.

“I can’t believe how wet i’m making you feel. You’re making a mess in my car.”

“Ohh baby, i can’t ah shit- help it. Fuck right there fuckkk.” you whimper.

You feel dizzy and overwhelmed, his blue eyes pierced through you. He sometimes leans close to tease you. Promising a sweet kiss, only to keep you at a distance. You shamelessly stuck out your tongue, too horny to feel any ounce of shame.

“Fuck look at you. You’re so fucking sexy.”, he whispered breathlessly. His eyes trailed down your body, stopping at your warm middle.

He fully pulled his fingers out slowly, you let out a soft whimper.

“Patience baby. I just wanted you to look at how much you’re soaking my fingers.”, he showed you his fingers, soaked and webbed with cum. This was turning you on so much.

“My.good.fucking.girl.” he punctuated the words with deep and rough thrusts back inside your cunt.

“Ah baby! Fuck, i wanna cum so bad Josh. Your fingers feel so fucking good.”, you look at him with low lids and furrowed brows. “Please..make me cum.”

“Fuck. I wanna feel you around my dick so bad, you’re sucking me in so much.”

“Please!”, the image of you riding him flashed through your head, further pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm.

“Next time i’m gonna eat you out till your fucking legs shake. Then I’m gonna fuck you and cum inside this sweet pussy.”, his breath hot in your ear.

“You want that?”

You answered with a high pitched yes. Your hand wrapped around his wrist to ground you.

“Then cum for me.”, tone demanding, his fingers jack hammering inside you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, tears rolled down your face. You weren’t even sure how loud you screamed. His fingers stilled inside you, feeling your cunt tighten and spasm. Your body instantly felt spent. Little did you know, Josh had his eyes fixed on you the whole time, never wanting to miss anything.

Your eyes slowly opened, “Josh…” you cried. You never want him to stop looking at you this way.

“Yeah?”, he responded with a sweet and loving smile.

You took a few deep breaths to regain control of your body again. The heat running through your body felt different now. Instead of consuming you whole; in a heartbeat, it spread slowly. Warming up your chest.

You were close to crying, the emotions rising up to your throat.

“I love you so much”, you whispered.

“I love you too, you’re everything to me.”, he finished with a kiss to your forehead.

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚ ꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶

Thank you so much to @slapthosewilliessilly for requesting ‘Josh talking you through it’. I had to expand it a little more to stretch out my writing muscles. Hope you like it! 🥹

Also ahh i’m so nervous about sharing my first kind of long-form fic…😖

[sinnabarmoth]

Mistakes Were Made

Prompt: You make the mistake of letting Xavier and Sylus meet and an intense instant rivalry between the two is born, now you're stuck between them.

Content warnings: Adult language.

Length: 2k

How did things turn out like this?

That’s all you could think as you sat in a cafe with your co-worker Xavier and the leader of Onychinus on either side of you.

~~~

It had started a couple days ago when you mentioned to Xavier that you were chasing down a lead regarding illegal protocore testing in the N109 zone. Xavier had insisted on going with you in case there was danger. It didn’t matter how much you assured him that you had everything in hand, that your inside informant was reliable, he wanted to come with to get it. So you had scheduled a time to meet with Sylus but had hoped Xavier would accidentally sleep through it since his sleep schedule was just as abysmal as Sylus’s.

It didn’t work. So you drove into the N109 zone with Xavier. You asked Sylus to just send one of the twins since you had a co-worker with you. He didn’t listen.

“Is that your informant?” Xavier asked, gesturing to the man leaning against a motorcycle.

You sighed, “Yes. That’s him. I can just talk to him myself.”

“No. It’s fine. We’ll talk to him together.”

“Great…” you walked over. Sylus looked up as you neared, the sly smile on his face dropping slightly when he saw Xavier.

“Hey, you said you had a lead?” you said, hoping to just get in and out.

“That I do, kitten. But first shouldn’t you introduce me to your friend?” Sylus said, gesturing to Xavier.

“Kitten?” you heard Xavier mutter.

“I told you I was bringing a co-worker.” you told Sylus through clenched teeth. “This shouldn’t be a surprise, especially not to you. Y’know, since you apparently know everything.”

“I didn’t know who your co-worker was.” Sylus continued to glare at Xavier. “Not that I would since you never mention him.”

“Funny. Until yesterday I didn’t know that she had an informant in the N109 zone.” Xavier said with similar barely concealed malice. “Not that I expected her to have anything nice to say about some back alley crook that operates out of this place.”

“Back alley crook?” you could see Sylus’s eyes flash with warning as his evol threatened to come out.

“Okay!” you clapped your hands together, stepping between the two of them. “The lead? Please.”

Sylus dropped his gaze from Xavier down to you. “Of course, sweetie. Right over here.” he wrapped an arm around your shoulder and turned you toward the bike as he pulled up something on his phone. You watched the CCTV footage he had lined up, taking note of the street signs so you knew where to check out.

As you were watching the footage you hadn’t even noticed his arm sliding down from your shoulders to rest on your hip. He did stuff like that all the time so you never thought much of it until Xavier cleared his throat loudly. You turned to see what was wrong and saw he was glaring at the arm around you.

“Oh uh…” you shrugged Sylus’s arm off and went back to Xavier. “I know where we need to go now. Let’s head on over now while clues may still be fresh.”

“Right.” Xavier looped his arm through yours. “Well, thank you for the lead…I never actually got your name.”

“Skye,” Sylus lied with practiced ease. “And you are?”

“Xavier.”

“Xavier…sounds otherworldly. Almost alien. I mean, how many Xaviers does a person meet?”

“I think it’s a fairly common name. Nothing strange about it.” Xavier said.

“If you say so.” Sylus turned to you. “And are we still on for our outing to the arcade this weekend, kitten?”

You could feel Xavier’s gaze boring a hole through your head though you refused to turn and acknowledge it. “Uh, maybe. Depends on how fast we can wrap up this case. Bye and thanks again.” you tugged on Xavier’s arm and sped away.

Xavier had still been staring hard at you. “So, your informant is a rather strange man.”

“Yeah. He’s just like that but he’s harmless I swear.”

“And you make plans to hang out with him at the arcade?”

“How about that lead huh? Let’s get going and get this case wrapped up so we can go get hot pot!” you said loudly, ignoring his question in hopes of him dropping it.

~~~

Days passed since that meeting with Sylus and Xavier was not dropping it. He kept on asking how you had come to know “Skye” and why exactly you were close enough to be hanging out as friends. You kept answers short and vague so he didn’t learn that you were actually friends with the leader of Onychinus. It was not helped though when Xavier asked if you really were going to hang out with him that weekend.

You tried to assure him that you two were pals and nothing more and in your haste to try and sweep everything under the rug you had accidentally invited him to go out with you and Sylus.

You arrived at the arcade, Sylus was already waiting there and Xavier had come in with you. You had told Sylus about accidentally inviting Xavier before this happened and made him promise to be on his best behavior. Whether he actually listened or not was yet to be seen. Knowing Sylus though, probably not.

“Hey Skye,” you said with a tight smile, “Ready to win some plushies?”

“Of course, kitten.” Sylus looked past you at Xavier. “Nice to see you too. What are you planning on doing while we’re at the claw machines?”

Xavier’s eye twitched. “I was planning on also using the claw machines.”

“Ah, well, you have fun. Come along kitten. I’ve been eyeing one of the classic machines for a while now.”

“Oh, just one of the classics. Don’t feel like having a challenge?” Xavier said, keeping you by his side with his arm linked with yours.

“Well, I was scoping out the machines for plushies that she doesn’t have yet. The challenge has nothing to do with it since I have nothing to prove.” Sylus answered, eyeing the way Xavier was keeping you next to him.

“How about we just skip the claw machines for now and play something else?” you said. “They have four player way racing over there. We could all do some racing and maybe come back to claw machines later.”

“Sure. Sounds like fun.” Xavier smiled brightly and started walking away with you in tow. Sylus followed after.

You had thought that the racing would be a good idea but very soon the guys started competing even worse than they had been bickering about the claw machines. The second one race ended they were starting another, calling for another round whenever one of them came in behind the other.

Oh this was a mistake. All of this was such a mistake.

“Is he cheating? He has to be cheating somehow!” Xavier said after Sylus passed him again.

“Sweetie, tell your co-worker that instead of focusing on me he should be focusing on driving better.”

“I am just focusing on keeping up with the both of you! Don’t drag me into your petty little feud.” you snapped, cursing as you took the corner too sharply.

“We are not feuding. Feuding would imply that there was a some kind of competition.” Sylus said. “For which there isn’t because I believe that win belongs to me.”

“One more game.” Xavier demanded.

“Well you two have fun with that.” you got up. “I’m tired of sitting here, I’m going to go back to the claw machines.”

“Excellent idea, kitten. I was thinking I was done with this game too.”

“So was I.” Xavier shot from his seat. “Which machine do you want to play?”

“For the love of…” you muttered.

You went off to the claw machines, ignoring both of them as you approached a machine and put in a token. Xavier and Sylus both offered to play for you to get whatever plushie you wanted but you glared at both of them. “I’m perfectly capable of playing myself. Thanks though.” you forced a smile and went back to focusing.

They were getting on your nerves a little. If they didn’t stop fighting you were going to end up ditching the both of them. Maybe you could call Rafayel to hang out instead or go bug Zayne at work.

For a while they both seemed to reach a truce as you played the claw machines. They had each disappeared at one point and when they came back both of them had arms full of plushies from different machines they must have played at. You looked at the giant pile of plushies before you and sighed. How were you meant to get all these home?

Thankfully the arcade was willing to give you an extra large bag to put all the plushies in. It was still awkward to tote around, and you felt embarrassed dragging it into the cafe after you left the arcade.

Which is where you were now. Sitting between Sylus and Xavier who silently glared daggers at each other over your drinks. “So…anyone see any good movies recently?” you asked, trying to get some kind of conversation started so you didn’t need to sit in silence.

“I did see one last night.” Xavier said. “I fell asleep on the couch and it woke me up with some loud explosion. I woke up worried a Wanderer was attacking the building at first.”

“Haha,” you laughed, imagining a bleary-eyed Xavier snapping awake ready to fight. “Did you end up watching the movie after it woke you up?”

“Well I couldn’t fall back asleep so I watched the rest of it. It was okay.”

“Only okay?”

“It was a Hunter inspired movie and I kept getting sucked out of it by how inaccurate it was to actual Hunter protocols.” Xavier said with a shrug.

“I get the same way when this one has us watch mafia movies.” Sylus said, pointing to you.

You turned to him wide-eyed and whispered. “Why are you mentioning mafia movies?”

“Do you know a lot about organized crime, Skye?” Xavier asked. “Then again, considering how she knows you that shouldn’t be so surprising. Although, hearing that you two have watched movies together is surprising.”

“Is it? We do spend quite a bit of time together when I’m not helping her chase down leads or fight Wanderers. There is a reason we had plans to go to the arcade today, just the two of us.” Sylus said pointedly.

“Kill me now.” you muttered under your breath.

“Seems I am learning a lot today. One of which is that my partner seems to have poor taste in new friends.”

“Xavier!” you snapped. “Don’t be rude.”

“He’s been rude the entire time!” Xavier retorted, gesturing to Sylus.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. But do not blame the fact that my kitten would rather spend the entire day with me whereas you had to impose yourself on our outing.”

“Okay that is it!” you yelled at both of them. You stood up from your seat and turned to look at both of them, hands on your hips. “You two are going to stop bickering and making snide comments to each other! You are both my friends and I like spending time with both of you. But if you continue to be assholes to each other about it then I’m not inviting either of you out with me ever again. Do I make myself clear?”

Sylus and Xavier fell silent, watching you with a mixture of shock and regret. “Yes ma’am.” Xavier said, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Sorry for getting carried away.”

“Apologies sweetie. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Sylus said, offering you a smile that you shot back down with a single glare.

“Good. Now the both of you apologize to each other.”

At this both of them looked ready to argue but you only continued to glare at them. “I mean it. If you two don’t apologize to each other I’m not spending time with either of you for at least a month. Now turn to each other and apologize.”

For a minute you didn’t think they were going to do it. They were making a point of not looking at each other, frowns etched deep on both their faces. Thankfully they knew to take your threats seriously and begrudgingly turned to one another and muttered some half-assed apologies. At least it was something.

“Good.” you sat back down with a small huff. “Now, who wants to play kitty cards?”

Xavier and Sylus looked at each other. “Best two out of three, winner gets to play with her?” Xavier suggested.

“You’re on.” Sylus grinned, that competitive edge coming back.

You only sighed and sat back as they started their game. You could only wonder how long this tenuous peace between them lasted before they ended up throwing teacups at each other. In your head you made a mental note to keep your guy friends as far away from each other as possible.

[libidinous-weeb]

…you view choking/breath play as entry level? ya’ll gonna die. seriously.

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[tamaharu]

why havent we abolished phone calls yet (<- had to call two different places for school and one of them didnt answer)

[quietwingsinthesky]

🌹:O

:3c

Lucifer doesn't care how the labcoats say it works; he knows there's no such thing as a clean break from a drift the minute the plug is pulled. Instead, Michael goes from a second consciousness beside his own to being dragged out of Lucifer the further Lucifer gets from him, both of them gripping tight to the connection until it slips, until it snaps, with a violent recoil that knocks Lucifer's brain out of alignment and reminds his legs that they don't work. His next step falls too fast, too heavily, and refuses to take his weight. It's only Michael, now only a voice outside of Lucifer's head yelling his name, catching him from behind that allows Lucifer to collapse to the floor with his dignity intact.

[chiscaralight]

cw: shy!choso x reader, prone boning, college au. sukuna and gojo ver linked at the bottom!

college athlete!choso who’s an absolute beast on the field. everyone loves to watch him play, it’s almost like a movie every time he’s out for the game! he’s always ready to charge headfirst when it comes to his sport, and he won’t let anyone take it away from him.

college athlete!choso who doesn’t talk to anyone outside his teammates and a select few. it’s fair anyway, a lot of people only want to speak to him bc he’s deemed important, not like they want to know him.

college athlete!choso who’s also known for his aloof personality. but when you’re partnered up for an essay, you soon realize everyone is painfully wrong.

college athlete!choso who’s the most shy thing ever! it almost breaks your heart how he starts to stutter and avoid your eyes while you work out the details, just humming in agreement and you swear he almost passes out when you ask for his number.

college athlete!choso who’s practically about to fall off the edge of your bed, trying to sit as far away from you as possible. it’s like trying to coax a hostile cat to eat food you brought it, but with the way you’re looking at him, choso is sure he wouldn’t mind you putting him in your mouth just a bit.

college athlete!choso who finally warms up to you after a couple of evenings together. there’s still significant distance between the two of you, both physically and emotionally, but he’s more open now. he can actually hold a conversation with you now, and he thinks you’re the coolest! he can’t get you off his mind at all, whether he’s walking to the field hoping to spot you on his path, or secretly searching for you in this shared class.

college athlete!choso who jerks himself off to the thought of you after practice, making sure the locker room is empty as he moans out your name, wishing it was your hand wrapped around his cock instead.

college athlete!choso who forgets he’s supposed to meet up with you, cussing himself out when he sees your texts and missed calls. you’re super understanding though, and you tell him to take his time or you can reschedule if it’s better. but he assures you he can be there in less than ten minutes.

college athlete!choso who’s at your door in three minutes, panting and soaked. you can’t tell whether it’s from the shower water or if it’s sweat, but your eyes are more focused on the outline of his exposed arms and damp shirt clinging to his frame. he’s babbling, saying sorry for wasting your time, he ran because he couldn’t find his keys! but his apologies are hitting deaf ears, your mind is definitely on something else. and he notices.

college athlete!choso who’s eyes widen when you pout, shyly asking him to kiss you. this is something you’ve been trying to avoid since the first day he sat in your room, but it’s so hard to hold yourself back when he looks like this!

college athlete!choso who presses his back to the door, holding you in his arms while your tongues tangle. he’s moaning around your tongue, shamelessly feeling you up while you grind your front against his hardening bulge. he’s almost embarrassingly loud, but each sound he makes sends vibrations straight between your legs.

and you’d have to say the same for yourself, fingers dragging down his arms, around his neck, across his chest. but the real kicker is when you softly place your hand against his abs. he’s unconsciously flexing beneath your touch and it draws you in like magic. maybe he’d have good core strength? you’re the one who’s going to put college athlete!choso to the test.

college athlete!choso who passes your test in flying colors, prone boning you with an ease that has you seeing stars. you’re face first in the sheets, cries muffled by the pillow your head rests on while he slams into you like he hates you, much different from the way he asks if you’re okay after a couple of thrusts. you can’t even get your head up! and he’s getting worried but you guide his hand towards your neck, struggling to place your head in the crook of his elbow before telling him to squeeze.

college athlete!choso who gets off on the way your eyes roll back and your voice gets whinier. his hips falter just a bit when you call out his name in that voice, and if not for how good you felt, you would’ve teased him for the way his cock just twitched.

college athlete!choso who can’t face you in class the next day. you’re a little sad when you don’t see him, so you decide to check the field later in the day.

college athlete!choso who freezes up when he sees you waving from the stands. his teammates don’t miss his change in demeanor, and they start to laugh and nudge him in the side, teasing him about the cutie cheering him on from the bleachers.

college athlete!choso who comes up to you during their break, face still blazing hot from the exercise and the memories of you from last night. he says he would have hugged you but he’s insanely sweaty right now. not like you would’ve minded, that sweaty body was all up on yours last night like it was nothing!

college athlete!choso who gives you a nice long kiss before he leaves. trying to drown out the sounds of his team hollering at the two of you from a distance. you break the kiss with a laugh and tell him he can come over later if he wants.

college athlete!choso who forgets his keys and runs all the way to your place for the fourth time this week. he doesn’t mind though, he just thinks of it as prep for the calories he’s about to burn with you in a couple of minutes.

sukuna ver here!

gojo ver here!

geto ver here!

choso pt2 here!

[aajjks]

tw/ hórny èx bf, hè ís à crèèp, nôncôn, èxplïcït ând nsfw thèmès.

It’s hard to break up with someone like him because he doesn’t get the hint- it’s been barely 6 days and he finds himself right in front of your door.

Really horny. And quite frankly messed up.

He bangs on your door- at first he’s gentle, but then he finds himself losing his patience when you don’t open up after a few bangs at your door, even with the bell It’s not working.

He just might have to be a little bit more aggressive with it. See now, he doesn’t like being aggressive with you. He knows that you hate this side of him. That’s why you broke up with him in the first place.

It’s not really a break up to him though because you’re just trying to break and he thinks that this break has lasted way longer than it should have in the first place. So he takes deep breath, and he starts banging at it like a maniac.

“Yn! YN OPEN UP!” But you don’t. You’re really trying to test his patience and then you try to lecture him on his aggressive nature.

His pupils are dilated at this point, he’s feeling so crazy right now, it’s aching and his pants, and he has missed you like crazy-staring at your pictures is not enough anymore. Not at all.

It’s your fault, you know.

It’s your fault that you’re so beautiful and that you have his heart in your hands… he closes his eyes for a moment, and then he takes out the spare keys he had to your apartment-of course, you don’t know about them, but he had a locksmith make them for him.

Without any rational thinking- he unlocks your apartment with ease.

And soon the familiar scent of your home hits him and your ex boyfriend finds himself relaxing, his head feels a little better now. “Yn!~~~” he calls out your name with affection but you still don’t respond.

Weird.

So he decides to check if you’re home. He really hopes that you are because he needs to talk to you and… a lot of other other things.

First to fall of course it’s gonna be your bedroom, his feet, take him to the familiar room so easily, because he remembers every single room in your home, like the back of his hand.

And to his surprise? He hears the shower running. A Cheshire Cat smile spreads across his lips. But before he can think anything else, the shower drops sounds come to a halt.

Oh, so you must be done..

He waits- by sitting on your bed and waiting for you to come out, and he doesn’t have to wait long, so he unzips his pants, creepy? He doesn’t give a fuck.

He needs to fuck you and get you back. He has everything you ever want. Quite frankly, you can be ungrateful. Anyone would kill to be in your place… but too bad he wants you.

And there you are, in all your wet glory-with a towel loosely wrapped around your body, you gasp, expected, in surprised to see him, he smirks.

Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to scream at him, he doesn’t mind you can because he’s missed your voice a lot.

“Hi baby.” He greets you. Licking his lips, because he feels himself getting harder when he stares at your soaked, freshly washed body.

You look so sexy like this I can’t help but remember all the times he would fuck you senselessly in the shower or sometimes when you were done with it.

You’re just so irresistible. You get him so horny for no reason at all. It’s your fault and now you’re going to have to help him out.

“W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?” You finally say something to him, even though you’re screaming at him like a maniac, he doesn’t mind.

“I can’t help it baby you know I love you and I can’t live without you-and I’m so horny right now.” He licks his lips again, getting up from your bed to walk towards you.

He needs to touch you right now.

“I told you you couldn’t break up with me but you thought you could.. so I just wanted to give you a little break, but I think it has lasted enough now I need you back.” He groans. You smell so good even his muscles are pulsing.

His eyes are you like a predator and You should know that you cannot escape.

He is way too strong for you.

“Come on now- look at me? I’m so fucking hard because I was thinking about you- and look at you.. fuck…” he breathes out, taking you by your waist.. but then he gets another idea.

So instead of holding you, he drops to his knees.

This is gonna get you so weak for him.

“Let me eat your pussy. Missed it so much.” He looks into your eyes when he grabs your legs. You barely manage to hold onto your towel, which was about to fall. And something switches in your eyes.

You have missed him too.

He smiles. “I bet you missed me too. Fuck- baby let me have a taste please- I’m doing this to make it up to you. I know I pissed you off, so let me make it up.” He breathes, slowly, removing the towel and he starts to tease you by rubbing his hands over to your clit.

You whimper, you’ve always been so weak for him.

He knows you need him-equally as bad as he needs you. And he’s going to make you realize it tonight. He leans his face closer to your cunt, and you grab his wide shoulders for support.

“Oh look at you baby- you’ve already started to get wet.” He coos, pressing a kiss to your thigh, and then his kisses get closer to your heat, “f-fuck. You’re so fucking bad for this.” You moan out. He knows that you’re trying to reject him still even though he knows what your heart and body really want.

Him.

“I know yn.. but fuck- you’re my bad habit.” He replies before he takes one of his fingers out of your pussy and he smashes his mouth into it- his tongue starting to eat you out.

“Nghhh fuck.” You moan as he starts to tease you again with his teeth- he’s so messy right now, all sloppy as he pushes his tongue in deeper and deeper.

That’s how you like it.

His mind is in a frenzy because the noises you’re making are purely sinful- your towel gals to the ground and your back arches.

He won’t let you fall.

He will make you cum in his tongue.

“Ugh fuck..” he groans as he eagerly laps at your juices, you’re giving him so much.

And he knows you’re already going to cum.

“A-Agh fuck don’t stop- don’t fuckin stop.” You command him and grab on his locks- that arouses him anymore- you taste so fuckin good.

He can kill anyone for you.

“O-Oh fuck- baby cum on my tongue- you can do it.” He praises you- his hands on your ass as he squeezes it, you pull on his hair.

His teeth graze your clit.

“Should I fuckin bite? Since you’re so *pants* fuckin mean to me? Nah.. I love you..” he barely manages to speak because you’re suffocating him and you’re going to cum.

“You can *pants* only cum if you come back to *pants* m-me.”

BNHA- hawks, aizawa, bakugo, deku

JJK- gojo, geto, toji, sukuna

[stunie]

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁ “MY BOYFRIEND IS GONNA KICK YOUR ASS !”

WINDBREAKER BOYS PROTECTING YOU FROM PERVS. ft. kaji ren, togame jo, umemiya hajime, sakura haruka, hayato suo, toma hiragi, kiryuu mitsuki, & kyotaro sugishita x f!reader

sfw. wc: 2.6K. oh how i’ve been wanting to write this since i finished the manga! but individual warnings are below <3

KAJI REN. referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ comments about your outfit

“My boyfriend’s real scary y’know.” Your voice falters a bit as you take another step back, hands coming up defensively. “And he’ll be here any moment.”

It’s a lie that you hope sounds convincing— because Kaji coming to save you today may be nothing more than a desperate wish of yours. How would he even find you in a place like this? You’re not sure exactly how much time has passed since you’ve started running, but you’re certain that by now, you and Kaji should have already been inside the bakery, finally getting to taste test the new fruit pastries you’d been dying to get your hands on.

It started off as just a loud whistle your direction, then led to an uncomfortable conversation about how you’re not interested— and that you have a boyfriend. One thing led to another, and somehow you’ve ended up here, out of breath from speed walking and completely lost— and to top it off, the only person near you is the one you’ve been running so desperately from.

You wish Kaji was here already.

“Oh yeah?” The man in front of you takes a step towards you, lips contorting into a sick grin when he sees your hands trembling. “I don't see him.”

Your lips tremble a bit when he reaches you, towering over you with ease. “Don’t you dare touch me.” You warn, “My boyfriend will beat your a—” you yelp as you’re suddenly pulled to the side, stumbling into someone’s chest as they pull you flush against their front.

The familiar scent of candy melts away your fear in a split second.

“Kaji!”

You can tell when you glance at him just once that he isn’t happy. His forehead is damp with sweat, and he looks disheveled, chest rising up and down with labored breaths— he must have been running around trying to find you this entire time.

Your boyfriend clicks his tongue in annoyance, eyes narrowing as he sizes up the man in front of him. “Problem?”

He rips off his headphones, letting them hang around his neck as the man feigns an apology, unapologetic eyes looming over your figure again seconds later. “But y’know man, you should be keeping a closer eye on your girl,” he points to you with a smug smile, “she was practically begging for me to say something with the way she’s dressed.”

“I wasn’t!” You protest, face burning as you tug on ren’s coat. You thought your outfit was cute— and definitely not anything crazy— you double checked. You really did. But he’s pointing at you now, rambling on about how you wanted this— and you can’t help the way tears start to blur your vision.

“Huh?” Kaji snarls, head tilting to leer at the man. The arm around your waist pulls you tighter against his chest, and you hear the angry thumping of his heart. “What'd you say?”

“Okay, okay, I’m leaving now.” The man chuckles in defeat. “I was just joking. Wasn’t gonna actually do something to your girl.” he waves him off. “You should lighten up—”

He chokes when Kaji grabs a fistful of his shirt, pulling him off balance before knocking him backwards, your pursuer falling roughly onto the floor as he winces in pain. “Then get outta here already.” Kaji glares, a stark contrast to the gentle way his hand is pressing against your lower back to guide you away.

“And don’t let me catch you looking at my girl again.”

TOGAME JO. referred to as she/her, ‘my girl,’ you wear his jacket

Togame gives you a sleepy smile as he watches you from Miniso’s entrance, excitedly sorting through the newly restocked blind boxes. He was resting his back against the wall behind him when he caught his first glimpse of that guy.

He’s wearing a dark hoodie, head turning back to shamelessly stare your direction as he passes by slowly. It’s enough to get togame back up on his feet immediately, quickly heading your way just as the man reaches to get a feel of your thighs—

“How shameless.” Togame laughs, big hand squeezing painfully into his wrist. “Tryna bother my girl?”

In any other situation, Togame would chuckle at your obliviousness, your headphones cancelling out any noise as your eye catches the cinnamoroll section, letting out an excited gasp as you head that way. You really had no idea.

“M-my bad man.” He stutters, ripping his arm from Togame’s grasp. “Just thought she was my sister— was just gonna tap on her back to grab her attention.”

Togame raises an eyebrow at the lazy excuse, leaning down until the man takes a nervous step back, eyes darting to the side to avoid Togame’s glare. “Sister? That’s my Shishitoren jacket she has on, no?”

The man feels heavy beads of sweat roll down his face when Togame’s hands curl into clenched fists. “You mean to tell me your lil sis is from Shishitoren?”

“I said it was my bad,” he repeats, chuckling nervously. “It won’t happen again okay? I won’t bother her again.”

Togame’s hands return to his pockets. “Won’t let you off so easy next time,” his voice is low as he steps aside to let him off, “so you’d better keep your distance.”

UMEMIYA HAJIME. referred to as she/her, ‘your girl’

Umemiya instinctively perks up when he hears two voices behind him, momentarily tuning out your gushing about how cute the little plant kits at barnes and noble are.

“….She's probably taken.”

“Is that her boyfriend behind her? Think she's talking to him.”

There's a chuckle between them. “Doesn’t matter. Go tell her what you just said to me when she's alone.”

“What?” The man laughs. “Ask her if i can grab a handful of that ass?”

More laughter.

Umemiya’s jaw clenches, eyes darting back at you in a flash, and he’s relieved when he sees you’re still gushing about the flower kits— completely oblivious to the two men just beyond this aisle. He’s by your side in an instant, arms wrapping around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“Oh.” You turn to press a quick kiss against his temple, smiling when he melts into your touch. “Hi, Haji. Did you find a book?”

“Nothing here.” He sighs dramatically, his embrace around your middle tightening just enough for you to barely notice. “But we can grab some of those flower kits.”

“Really?”

“Of course—”

“Hey.” A familiar voice interrupts him with a stifled laugh, followed by a tap on his shoulder. With the roughness, it’s more like a jab— but he lets that slide.

“Ah— your friend, Haji.” Your voice comes off as a mix between a question and a statement.

“Hey, my friend has something to ask your girl.”

Umemiya’s jaw clenches again, and your eyes widen a bit at the sudden change in the atmosphere. The first friend’s hand is swat off of his shoulder in a split second, Umemiya straightening back up to look back at them.

Their first thought is that he’s a lot taller than they had pictured. A lot more muscular too— and they take note of the way his muscles bulge against the fabric of his shirt. “What, you have business with her?”

They flinch at the tone.

“Ah— sorry.” The second friend stutters. “We got the wrong person.”

SAKURA HARUKA.

“Ah— what happened?” Your hands delicately cup Sakura’s face, ignoring the way his cheeks instantly turn into a deep shade of scarlet. “N-nothing happened!” He weakly swats at your hand, a futile attempt to dissipate the heat spreading through the tips of his ears.

“I was only in the bathroom for five minutes.” You laugh. “How’d you manage to get into a fight so fast?”

He stiffens when your arms come to wrap around his bicep, resuming your ramble about some recipe you wanted to try tonight. Macarons…or something. He doesn’t pay much attention, because he knows whatever you end up making will be good anyway.

“—Are you listening, Sakura?”

The clueless look he gives you confirms it. “So you weren’t. I had a feeling— but it’s okay.” You giggle. “But you didn’t answer my question from earlier either. How’d you get into a fight?”

His eyebrows furrow deeply as he decides whether or not he should tell you. “They were….” he clicks his tongue angrily, “they were talking about you when you walked by.”

You can feel his muscles tense as he deepens his scowl, still trying to fight off the blush plastered across his face. “I just gave ‘em what they deserved.”

HAYATO SUO. referred to as she/her, mentions of how you’re dressed

“What a bitch. She was totally asking for it.”

I know— dressed like a whore.”

Suo stands up from the bench outside your local convenience store, hands dusting off the dirt on his pants. You had asked him to wait outside earlier because ‘you wanted to grab him a super delicious snack that he would most definitely love.’

He had a feeling the two dirty men who entered the store minutes later were bad news, so he was already on high alert before listening in.

“That whore— you mean my girlfriend?” Suo’s voice comes out calm, a stark contrast to the sickening anger and pressure he feels building up inside his chest.

“Huh—oh. Yeah.” One of them chuckles, jutting their thumb at the entrance. “That bitch inside your girl? You let her prance around with her tits hanging out for everyone to see?”

He's calm and composed as they size him up, their chins tilting up to look down at him. “She's pretty, isn't she?” and Suo fails to stifle the chuckle that escapes his lips. “Did she reject you too harshly for your liking?”

One of them balls his fists, muttering profanities under his breath as he leans closer to him. “Now how'd you know that? You should really teach that bitch some fucking manners.” He reaches forward to grab Suo by the collar, eyes blinking in confusion when he finds himself spun behind Suo seconds later, feet struggling to find their balance.

“—The fuck did you do?”

“It’s a bad habit of hers,” Suo continues. “I understand it though, not wanting to be around a pathetic thing like you.” The edges of his lips tug into a faint smile.

The other man’s eyebrows twitch, spitting empty threats as he he throws a wide swing, only to find himself reduced to his knees seconds later. “T-the fuck...” he grumbles to himself— he could have sworn he could practically see his fist connect. What happened?

“You'd be better off looking for someone to protect yourself the way I do for her.” His words are mocking as he heads towards the store’s entrance. “And— it'd be really unfortunate if i see something like this happen again.”

TOMA HIRAGI.

“H-Hiragi? What are you doing?”

Your lips are pressed in a nervous line as your hands come to shyly rest on his chest, sucking in a breath when his arms come to roughly cage you against the train’s walls, strong body towering just over yours.

“Do you…need more space?” You whisper, heart racing at the proximity. You can smell his cologne so well at this distance.

Hiragi simply shakes his head, distracted gaze shifting between you and something behind him every few seconds. “It’s okay.”

He swears his stomach isn't churning like this without good reason. It’s not just a coincidence that the same person who he had noticed eyeing you at the boba shop had gotten onto the same train. He could let it go at that, but the same man had been slowly worming his way through the crowd to get closer to the two of you. And while he’s not certain, he thought he saw the man take out his phone and try and angle it beneath you, but not before jolting and dropping his phone onto the floor when Hiragi's hands abruptly slammed against the wall beside you.

The train suddenly rocks, sliding his phone to the other side of the train, and you’re knocked off balance, face slamming against Hiragi's chest. “S-sorry!”

“It’s okay.” He gives you a smile, hand coming to cradle the back of your head and pull you closer. “You okay?”

“I’m okay...” you mumble, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Your chest is hard.”

He responds with a light chuckle. It’ll be okay like this, he thinks. He’ll protect you with his body for now, and figure out what to do with that guy later.

KIRYU MITSUKI. ‘pretty thing’

“It’s no wonder she doesn't like you,” Kiryu sighs. “You're gross.”

Your mouth is ajar as you stare at the state of the man who was harassing you only moments ago, his unconscious body resting neatly against the wall after Kiryu had dragged him there.

“Sorry you had to watch that, pretty thing.” His hand comes to gently interlace with yours. “But he didn't leave me with much of a choice, did he?”

“It’s okay.” Your voice drops to a whisper. “That was so cool of you.”

His eyes widen a bit before his lips curl into a small smile. “Oh? You think so?”

“Mhm. I don't know what would’ve happened to me if you were there...” your voice trails off a bit.

You really don't know what would have happened, because it's not like you know how to fight or anything. Getting hit on is enough to make you nervous, so a pushy guy like that was too much— you froze up as soon as he started spitting threats after you expressed your disinterest.

There’s a light squeeze around your hands, and you’re reminded of this gentle warmth that Kiryu always brings with him. “Don't worry about it.” He gives you a small smile. “I’ll just need to accompany you more often when you go out. It’s no problem.”

KYOTARO SUGISHITA.

“You’re like a bodyguard, Kyo.”

You giggle at the huff beside you. “How’d you even react that fast?”

It all happened within a second. You were walking beside him, stopped for a brief second to bend down and peer at the plushies lining the shop window, not noticing the man approaching you— his grimy fingers coming to take a peek under your skirt. Before you had even registered the feeling of the cloth moving, there was a loud crack, and the man was on the floor, groaning with his hands covering his bloodied face and a very angry Sugishita on top of him.

“He made me angry.”

Of course he would be. And if you weren’t with your boyfriend, it would be an entirely different story. You’d bring along your assortment of self defense items, ranging from pepper sprays to taser lipsticks— and you’d be a thousand times more cautious. Pay extra close attention to everything around you.

With Sugishita, however, it’s different. You think of it as being able to turn off your brain… or something like that. Whatever lets you truly relax and enjoy your time with him, and it’s always okay because your boyfriend is there to protect you. “Well, don’t be so mad, cutie.” You smile, your fingers reaching to interlace with his as he tenses at the nickname.

“Everything is okay— I’m okay. I’ll even get us smoothies to help lighten the mood.”

He lets you drag him to your favorite smoothie shop in silence— still fuming about the incident. He wonders why you’re not shaken up. Ifnhe had been one second later, that piece of shit would have lifted up your skirt. In public. His jaw clenches at the thought, angry eyes darting at any anyone who dares look your direction.

“Why’re…” his voice trails off, remembering what Umemiya said about toning down his choice of words around others. “Why’re you so happy?”

“Hmm? I’m not too worried.” You laugh. “You’re my bodyguard right? Nothing will happen if you’re here.”

part 2

[xervn]

till the sun is up

oneshot | cowboy sevika

ao3 link

summary: porch sex. that's about it.

18+ MDNI | 2k words | tags; modern au, cowboy sevika (doesn't play a big part though), established relationship, sevika has both arms (sorry, ik, i love it too), kissing, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, no use of y/n, porn w/ plot if you squint

took me weeks to write this because i'm lazy and a student, but i'm still in love with sevika. sorry if there's grammatical errors, i mostly wrote this with one hand (im joking)

It’s six-oh-something AM and you woke up to an empty bed; nothing but wrinkled sheets where your wife is supposed to be. You figure she’s keeping herself busy and will be back soon, so in the meantime, you tie your robe around your waist for a little warmth and head downstairs.

You get started on breakfast, turning on the griddle, and taking note of the things you guys need to stock up on. However, by the time you’re done, Sevika has still not shown up. You’re not used to waking up without seeing her, although the only reason you’re up right now is because you didn’t feel her next to you. 

“She must be in the barn.” You assume, making your way to the front door and to the porch. As expected, the horses are out, which could only mean Sevika was too. You make your own binoculars with your hands, trying to see if you can spot your wife in the distance, until you hear a soft grunt right beside you. 

A peaceful sight, Sevika napping on a wooden armchair like an uncle at a family gathering— you giggle at that— with her cowboy hat being used as a sleeping mask. You hate to have to wake her up, but you made her breakfast! And she should’ve been sleeping next to you anyways. 

“Vika..” You lean down to peek at her face, but, of course, her hat is blocking her eyes. “Vika, baby?” You squat down to plant a kiss on her cheek where you can manage, and she hums awake. “There you are.”

Sevika grunts and you giggle. She sits up and pulls her hat back on her head, squinting at the early morning sun that’s still rising, but somehow found a perfect angle to blind her. She turns to look at you instead. “Hey, sweetheart.” She greets with a rasp.

You spot her discomfort and use your body to block the incoming light for her. “Hi, I missed you.”

She smiles sleepily and reaches for your waist. She guides you down to sit on her lap and you happily let her. “‘M sorry. Woke up too early, thought I’d let the horses out and watch the sunrise...” She says before looking away to yawn. 

You gasp lightly, “Without me?” You clutch at your chest and Sevika chuckles at your theatrics. 

She gently tries to move your hand into hers, but you resist. She shakes her head, laughing, “No, no, no. Baby, please, I didn’t want to wake you.”

“But you made it sound so romantic.. I wouldn’t mind.” You pout. Sevika gives you a doubtful look and you pretend not to see it. 

“You’re not nice when I wake you up.” She reminds you.

“I would’ve been nice this time.” You lie.

“I didn’t want to test that.”

You playfully roll your eyes, “Oh, whatever.” You shift to get up, but Sevika quickly anchors you down.

“Where are you going?” She questions with her hands on you firmly; one around your waist and on your stomach, and the other indented in your thigh like you might float away. 

“Ease up, cowgirl. I made breakfast. I made you breakfast.” You reply, placing your hand on her cheek.

“Oh? What’d you make?” She asks as she leans her face into your touch, innocently. Her hands don’t budge.

“Bacon, eggs,” you list and Sevika nods in approval, “Pancakes, and coffee...” You drawl, and her eyes shut as she groans. “Uh-huh, are you gonna join me?” You ask, resting your hands on her chest and waiting for her answer.

She looks you in the eyes, until her gaze starts to go south, lingering at the low neckline of your nightgown. Your cleavage makes a sudden appearance she didn’t notice at first. Sevika was half-awake, but she’s definitely not anymore; whistling at the sight of you. Her grasp on your thigh leaves and goes to pull your satin robe down your shoulder. Surprised, you scold, “Sevika!”

“What?” She goes for the other shoulder and you make no attempts to stop her. “I can’t admire my wife?” She says, resting her rough hand on your thigh again, but this time she’s slowly massaging it up and down.

“You can, but I made you breakfast and it’ll get cold.”

“Baby, that’s what microwaves are for.” She coos, venturing her hand between your legs, slowly making her way up. 

They almost flinch shut and Sevika awes. Your face turns warm and you look away, towards your surroundings, and although she's right about the food, you guys are still outside. You mutter out, “But..”

“But what?” She asks. You continue to aimlessly look in the distance, even though you know damn well there’s nothing but farmland and horses. Sevika chuckles, “The horses don’t care and we don’t get visitors. Even if we did, you know I’d kill ‘em before they could see you like this, right?” You fix your lips to respond, but you pause when the hand on your stomach moves down to the lace hemline of your gown. Her fingers curl underneath, waiting to search. “I miss you.” She whispers.

Her words tug at your heart and her puppy eyes burn into you. You didn’t need much convincing anyways, but you fold and you mumble out, “I know what you’re doing...” Your marriage has taught two things, if Sevika “misses you” she either really does, or she really wants to fuck you. 

You reach for her hat and perch it on your head; an unspoken rule about cowboys Sevika once said. She grins up at you as you slide your hand over her shoulder, closing some distance between you two.

“I do miss you, I miss you all the time.” She assures, leaning in to freely press kisses on your shoulder. Her fingers finally lift your dress and her kisses begin to trail towards your neck. You can deduce which “missing” she meant, and you feel the same way. 

Exhaling, you tip your head to the side to give her more room. Sevika’s lips marking the new territory makes you tremble like it was the first time. It’s no surprise that after years of being together, she still makes your heart race. 

You move with her as she leans back, tugging you towards her. You involuntarily let out a squeak that she snickers at, and she gives you a kiss on the cheek and several more, distracting you from her spreading your legs indecently; hooking your outer leg over her strong forearm.

She wastes no time to ride up the front of your nightgown, showcasing your plain, flimsy, black, cat-themed underwear. Sevika doesn’t bat an eye, of course, she’s used to it. 

Right now, she’s only focused on one thing. Her hand purposefully ghosts over, so she can ogle at you writhing with anticipation. Your knitting brows, heavy breathing— it excites her. She’s getting worked up from watching you. “Look how bad you want it.” She teases affectionately.

Sevika presses her middle finger on your damp, clothed clit, observing and feeling every reaction that pulses from you. You let out a soft curse and she rewards it by moving her finger in tight circles. Sevika listens to how your breath staggers and clenches from the ache between her own legs. She tugs your underwear to the side to properly admire how wet you are. The cool, morning air makes you shiver. 

Pinning the fabric with her ring finger, she sensually swipes her middle up your folds. “All for me?”

Her voice has you melting, throbbing, and you're unable to contain the whine that escapes you. Sevika’s gaze locks on your lips the second she hears it, as if she’s hunting for the next one. You make sure she’ll be able to catch it, meeting her halfway for a kiss. 

She grins as your mouths collide, eyes fluttering shut and lips passionately fitting together like a two-piece puzzle. She brings another finger to aid her in rubbing soft circles on your clit; just enough to build pressure, but not enough to relieve it. The tip of her tongue runs over your parted bottom lip, waiting for an invitation in, and you allow it with a breathy moan. She languidly teases her tongue across yours, then pulls away just to watch you follow after her— which you do— and you can see how much she got off on it. 

Panting impatiently, “Sev…“ But you trail off as she gravitates towards you with another magnetizing, searing kiss. Your hands find the side of her neck, brushing up her nape. 

She sweetly pecks your lips, breaking away for a second, “You’re,” she kisses you again, “Just,” and again, “So,” and again, “Pretty. I had to look.” She murmurs.

Your face becomes home for a cheesy smile Sevika reciprocates dotingly. You lean in to kiss her, and as your lips brush against each other’s, her fingers suddenly resume their movement, this time firmly and relieving. You whimper over her lips, and she chuckles darkly against yours. She kisses you deeply as she steadily coaxes your clit on a perfect pressure point. 

Your legs begin to bow together from the overwhelming sensation, slowly coming to its climax, and Sevika takes it as a sign to slip her fingers into you. The stretch hurts good as she curls her fingers into ‘come-hither’ motions right where you need them. The previous build up resumes instantly and you’re back where you left off, right on the brink. 

“Vika, I’m gonna…“ You softly cry out, unable to finish your words because she only increases her speed at the mention of her name. Now her thick fingers are squelching in and out of you and the sounds are fogging your brain. If it wasn’t for the chirping birds and the huffing horses in the distance, you would’ve forgotten where you were.

“Not yet, just a little longer.” She says— demands even.

You sob out a moan, akin to a tantrum, “I can’t— fuck — I can’t.” 

Sevika plants a kiss on the corner of your lips; her fingers refusing to stop hitting your rough spot. “You can, baby. You don’t want me to stop, do you?” She whispers.

She puts up a good point you can’t argue. You don’t want her to stop, you’d hate for her to stop. “N- No, but maybe slow— hnng— d— shit— down?” You bargain half-heartedly in stutters and stammers.

“Where’s the fun in that? And if you come right now, so help me god.” She growls. Yet, the way she’s fucking you is telling you the opposite; there’s a thin line on torture and mind-breaking pleasure she’s crossing and you love it. You try not to love it too much before you explode on the spot. 

She can see how much you're trying, squirming, whining with every fast-paced stroke. One word from her and you’d come undone: that’s her favorite part. She extends her free arm, the one propping your leg up, and she puts four fingers on your clit, then rubs it harshly. That does it. You actually can’t hold it anymore unless you want half an orgasm. Your head jerks back and Sevika’s cowboy hat begins to slide off your head. There’s tears in your eyes, your legs are weak and shaking. You need it, you need it bad.

And she gives it to you. “Such a good girl. Go on, come for me.” 

Your release hits hard, like a cork popping off a champagne bottle. Your eyes pin shut as it reverberates down to your toes, and courses up your spine. You let out high-pitched, breathy moans, and Sevika harmonizes— not mockingly — soothingly, as she softly rubs out your orgasm. Your underwear falls back in place as she removes her fingers out of you and off of you. You wince and she murmurs an apology with a smug smile. 

“Holy shit,” You exhale as your legs fall over Sevika’s thighs. You can feel the air getting warmer, and as your eyes flutter open, the sky is colored a blue only a risen sun could paint. “I love you.”

“I love you.” She replies with a smile.

“Your turn now.”

She laughs heartily, briefly biting her lower lip, “But I thought the breakfast was gonna get cold?” 

You grin, “‘That’s what microwaves are for.’”

[sonarspace]

✩ content. 18+, coworker! nanami x fem! reader, protected sex, office sex.

coworker!nanami wasn’t the type to rush things. he was careful, thoughtful in every move he made—like he had all the time in the world. you noticed it the first time he held the elevator door open for you, stepping aside to let you in first with that soft nod he always gave.

he wasn’t flashy or loud like some of the others in the office. no lingering stares or playful flirting. just small gestures—offering you the last coffee pod in the break room, pulling your chair out during meetings, and always walking you to your car when you worked late.

when he asked you out, it wasn’t over text or with some elaborate gesture. it was simple, catching you by surprise at the end of a long day. you were gathering your things, half-distracted, when his voice cut through the soft hum of the empty office.

“would you like to have dinner with me this weekend?”

the words hung in the air, calm but sure, making your heart stutter unexpectedly. you blinked up at him, thrown by how casual he made it sound, as if it wasn’t making your pulse flutter faster.

“i’d like that,” you answered, tucking your hair behind your ear.

he nodded, a faint pull at the corner of his mouth. “i’ll pick you up at seven.”

and he did—right on time, standing at your door with a bouquet of fresh flowers, not the kind you grab last minute at the store, but ones carefully picked out like he’d put thought into it.

dinner was easy. the conversation flowed, soft and unrushed, as if he was content just being there with you. he listened more than he spoke, asking questions in a way that made you feel like he really wanted to know you, not just pass the time.

when he walked you back to your apartment, he didn’t ask to come inside. instead, he paused at the door, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek, soft and warm but not lingering.

“thank you for tonight,” he said, the weight of his hand brushing lightly against your arm before he stepped back.

the second date mirrored the first—calm, unhurried. but this time, when he kissed you, it was on the lips, soft and gentle, like he was testing the waters but not diving in. his lips lingered just enough to make you chase the taste of him with your tongue, even after he pulled away.

it left you touching your lips as you unlocked your door, feeling the ghost of his mouth long after he was gone.

what you didn’t know was how he spent the rest of that night thinking about it too—replaying the softness of your kiss, wondering if he should’ve stayed just a little longer.

it wasn’t until the third date that the pace shifted.

when he invited you over for dinner, his apartment was exactly what you expected—minimal, clean, but still warm, like the person who lived there took care to make it feel like home.

there was a faint smell of coffee lingering in the air, rich and earthy, as if he brewed it often enough for it to soak into the walls. a small stack of books sat neatly on his coffee table, their covers worn but well-loved. near the corner of the room was a collection of vinyl records, carefully arranged alongside a vintage turntable.

as he moved through the kitchen, pouring you a glass of wine, he pulled one of the records from the stack, setting it onto the turntable with the same careful ease he seemed to apply to everything he did.

the room filled with the low hum of music—something old, sensual and smooth, the kind of love song that felt like it belonged to another time. the soft crackle of the vinyl filled the spaces between your words as you ate, the melody winding around the edges of the room like a quiet invitation.

when his hand brushed your thigh, it felt natural, like the warmth of the song had melted the space between you.

later, when his lips pressed against yours, he left the record spinning, the music still drifting softly in the background as he kissed his way down your body.

as he sank between your legs, the song shifted to something slower—french, maybe, the words breathy and delicate, curling through the air like smoke.

he moved with the same rhythm, slow and unhurried, his mouth warm against you, every flick of his tongue drawing out the softest gasps as he held you down, savoring every sound you made.

when he finally slid inside you, the music swelled, the deep hum of the singer’s voice threading through the haze of your breathless moans, filling the room with something tender and electric.

nanami’s pace matched the song—steady, sensual, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered your name, his hands cradling your hips as if he didn’t want to miss a single moment.

the vinyl spun on, crackling softly beneath the weight of your shared breaths, grounding you both in the quiet intimacy that stretched between each note.

by the time monday came, the memory lingered, warm and heavy between you. the space between your desks felt smaller somehow, the air charged with something unspoken but understood.

nanami never acted any differently—still the epitome of professionalism, his touch light and fleeting whenever it crossed yours. but there were small moments where his gaze dipped lower, lingering a second too long on the way your skirt hugged your legs, the faintest twitch of his jaw when you brushed too close.

the tension simmered beneath the surface, winding tighter each day, like the faint static hum of a record waiting to skip.

you felt it most when his hand slid lightly against the small of your back as you leaned over the printer, his palm warm through the thin fabric of your blouse.

“you’ve been distracting me,” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear, his lips hovering by your ear.

the words were calm, but the weight behind them made your stomach twist, heat coiling low in your abdomen.

you swallowed, straightening under his gaze as your eyes flickered to the glass walls of his office, thankful for the empty hallway.

it wasn’t until later, when the office thinned out and the sun dipped low behind the skyline, that the tension snapped.

you’d been passing by his office when his hand caught your wrist, thumb brushing lazily over your pulse.

“come in,” nanami said softly, guiding you into his office with that same steady calm that never seemed to waver.

the door clicked behind you, but you barely had a second to register it before he was pressing you back against the solid edge of his desk, his mouth hot and insistent against yours.

the kiss was slow, controlled—but there was something heavier beneath it, the faint groan vibrating in his chest as his hands skimmed the length of your thighs, pushing your skirt up until it bunched around your waist.

“you’ve been driving me insane all week,” he whispered, lips trailing along your jaw as his fingers slid beneath the lace of your panties, pulling them aside with ease.

your breath hitched as his hands gripped your hips, guiding you to bend over the desk with a softness that didn’t match the heat pooling in his gaze.

nanami took his time, as he always did—his touch careful, even as he freed himself from his slacks, the thick weight of him pressing hot against your entrance.

the stretch of him was dizzying, a soft gasp spilling from your lips as he pushed inside inch by inch, his hand steadying against the small of your back as he bottomed out.

“fuck—” the word rasped against your skin, his forehead dropping to the curve of your shoulder, his hips pulling back just enough to snap forward again.

the desk creaked beneath the weight of his movements, his pace unrelenting, the quiet hum of the empty office amplifying every soft moan that slipped from your mouth.

by the time he pulled out, breath ragged and forehead damp, nanami was already tugging your skirt back down, smoothing out the creases with careful hands.

he helped you clean up, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, tucking you beneath his arm as he led you to the door.

as the elevator doors slid open, nanami’s thumb traced the inside of your wrist, grounding but teasing.

“i should soundproof my office,” he murmured, voice low and amused.

your breath hitched, heat blooming in your cheeks. “i wasn’t that loud.”

nanami’s brow arched, lips ghosting your ear. “you were.”

the elevator chimed softly. he lingered close, smirking as he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes.

“i didn’t mind,” he added, his palm warm against the small of your back. “but let’s see how much louder you can get next time.”

[rizzanon]

03 | EVERYTHING IS AWESOME…

m.list | prev | next

The night was calm, as far as Gotham standards went. Dick leapt across rooftops with practiced ease, the crisp night air cooling the sweat on his brow. Patrol had been fairly routine so far—an attempted mugging here, a couple of carjackers there. But even as he flipped and fought, his mind was elsewhere.

You.

Why was it that for the past few days, he couldn’t seem to catch you for even a moment? Every time he stopped by the manor, Alfred had the same response: Miss (Name) is out at the moment, Master Richard.

Out? Out where?

He’d pressed Alfred for more details the first time, but the butler’s polite smile and vague responses left him with more questions than answers.

He ducked under a clumsy swing from a thug, twisting his attacker’s wrist and disarming him in one fluid motion. Were you avoiding him? The idea gnawed at him, even though he tried to dismiss it. Surely you wouldn’t do that. Not to him. Right?

But the signs were starting to feel undeniable. You answer his texts hours later, and even those were short and simple. Most of his calls went straight to voicemail and when you do pick up, it was to say that you couldn’t talk right now. Whenever he asked anyone in the family about you, they either gave noncommittal answers or shrugged. Even Damian had been uncharacteristically tight-lipped when Dick had broached the topic with him. That, more than anything, felt like a red flag.

Had the two of you not reconciled yet?

What did you two even argue about to get to this point? Damian wouldn’t tell him anything no matter how much he bugged him.

The thought made his chest tighten uncomfortably. Did he do something? Say something? He ran through every interaction he’d had with you in recent memory, trying to pinpoint where things might’ve gone wrong. But nothing came to mind. You’d always seemed fine, maybe a little quieter than usual, but he’d chalked that up to you being tired. Gotham took its toll on everyone eventually.

Still, the nagging doubt lingered. The idea that you might be avoiding him on purpose—it didn’t sit right. You were family. He thought he’d always made that clear (he did right?), that you could come to him about anything. So why did it feel like you were slipping away? Did he not make it clear enough? (did he even make it clear?)

Dick pushed off the railing, his footsteps echoing as he started pacing again. He didn’t like this feeling. He needed to figure out what was going on. What had changed? And why did it feel like you were determined to keep him at arm’s length?

“What’s got your panties in a twist?”

He knocked the thug out with a quick jab to the jaw and spun around to check on Jason, who was dealing with the last of the group. His voice, distorted slightly by the modulator in his helmet.

Jason, of course, was handling them with his usual… flair. A solid punch here, a sharp kick there, and the thugs were down for the count in no time. As Jason holstered his pistol, he glanced over at Dick, tilting his head slightly as though sizing him up.

Dick let out a sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. “Haha. Very funny.”

Jason lets out an audible scoff. Even though his face was obscured by his helmet, Dick could practically feel the eye roll.

“So?” Jason drawled, crossing his arms as he leaned against a lamppost. “Are you gonna speak up or what?”

Dick just sighs as he puts away his escrima sticks.

“It’s about (name).”

“What? She messed up again or something?”

Dick’s head snapped toward him, his brow furrowing. “What? No. Why would you even—”

Jason shrugged, kicking at the unconscious body of one of the thugs as if to test if he was really out cold. “I dunno. She’s always messing something up, isn’t she? And you have to clean up after her. At least, that’s the vibe I get.”

Dick’s shoulders tensed, a sharp frustration bubbling to the surface. “Jason, seriously?”

Jason raised his hands in mock surrender. “What? I’m just saying—”

“No, you’re not ‘just saying,’” Dick interrupted, his voice sharper than he intended. “This is exactly why I’m worried. You guys act like she’s just… this screw-up, like she’s some annoyance you have to deal with, and it’s not fair.”

Jason tilted his head, clearly surprised by the outburst. “Okay, hold on. Where’s this coming from?”

Dick sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He leaned against a nearby wall, staring out over the dimly lit alleyway. “(Name) quit being Batgirl.”

Jason visibly froze for a split second at Dick’s words, the tension in his stance betraying his surprise. But it was gone as quickly as it appeared. He let out a scoff, straightening up and crossing his arms. “Okay. And?”

Dick blinked at him, momentarily thrown off. “What do you mean, ‘Okay, and?’” he asked, incredulous. “(Name) quit, Jason. (Name). The girl who literally begged B and Babs to let her become Batgirl. She didn’t just want it; she fought for it. And now—”

“And now she’s finally done being a liability in a cape,” Jason interrupted, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Honestly, Grayson, shouldn’t you be happy about it?”

Dick’s breath hitched, the bluntness of the statement striking a nerve. He opened his mouth to argue, but nothing came out. He hated to admit it, but a part of him—the small, cruel voice he always tried to silence—had whispered something similar when he first heard the news.

Jason, noticing the brief flicker of hesitation on Dick’s face, took that as his cue to keep going. “I mean, come on. She’s not cut out for this life, and you know it. You’re just too polite to say it out loud. So, good for her. She’s finally realized what the rest of us already knew.”

Dick was silent, his jaw tightening as Jason’s words hung heavy in the air. He didn’t want to agree, not even a little. But the doubt had already been planted, and Jason’s callousness only made it worse.

“No,” Dick said finally, his voice firm. He shook his head, as though trying to rid himself of the thought entirely. “Don’t call her a liability, Jay. And that’s not the point. She quit, yeah, but she’s been distant ever since. When she had this huge fight with Damian—”

Jason snorted. “Probably demon spawn’s fault.”

“Don’t say that,” Dick snapped, frowning at him. “It’s no one’s fault, Jason. They probably weren’t in the right headspace and let their emotions get the better of them.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Dick ignored the jab, his focus still on you and the unanswered questions swirling in his mind. He wasn’t going to let Jason’s cynicism—or his own creeping doubts—stop him. Whatever was going on, he’d figure it out. And more importantly, he’d make sure you knew that he cared, no matter what anyone else thought.

Dick sighed, running a hand down his face. “Jay, come on.”

Jason turned to him, arms crossing defensively. “Seriously, what the hell do you want me to do, Dick?”

“I don’t know! Go talk to her or something!” Dick snapped, exasperation lacing his tone.

Jason gave him a flat, unimpressed look. “Oh, right. Like she’d talk to me of all people. Great plan, genius.”

Dick threw up his hands in frustration, his patience quickly wearing thin. “Come on. What’s your deal?”

Jason paused, the question clearly catching him off guard. “Excuse me?” His voice dropped a notch, low and warning.

But Dick didn’t care about the edge in Jason’s tone or the way his posture screamed “back off.” He was too fed up, too worried, and too frustrated to stop now. “No, seriously,” Dick pressed, stepping closer. “It’s like you don’t even care about (Name).”

Jason’s whole body tensed, his fists clenching at his sides. Dick could practically feel the anger rolling off him in waves.

“What?” Jason snapped, his voice rising. “So you want her to keep wearing a mask and fight battles she clearly can’t handle? You want her to keep throwing herself into situations where she’s gonna get herself killed? That’s what caring looks like to you?”

Dick stepped forward, his own frustration boiling over. “This isn’t about whether or not she’s wearing a mask! This is about you acting like you don’t give a damn about her!”

Jason let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, so now you’re the expert on what I feel? That’s rich coming from you.”

“I thought you two were close, Jason,” Dick shot back, his voice tight with barely controlled anger. “What happened? You used to care about her. You used to look out for her!”

Jason scoffed, the sound harsh and bitter. “What happened? Life happened, Dick. I’m not the same 15-year-old boy she knew back then. And I’ll never be that guy she knew again. So don’t stand there and act like you have any right to talk about my relationship with her when I don’t see you even having half of what me and her had before.”

That struck a nerve, and Dick’s jaw tightened. “You think I don’t care about her?” he asked, his voice low and steady now, the anger simmering beneath the surface.

Jason’s helmet tilted slightly, as if he was sizing Dick up. “Oh, you care, alright. But not enough to actually see what’s in front of you. She tries too hard, she’s always second guessing herself, and honestly? It’s exhausting to watch. Whereas you’re too busy running around trying to ‘fix’ everything to even notice.”

Dick flinched, the words cutting deeper than he wanted to admit. “That’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair,” Jason shot back, stepping closer, his voice dripping with bitterness. “But here’s the thing—you want her to keep being Batgirl because it makes you feel better. Like you’re holding this family together or something. But did you ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, she quit because she wants to?” He gestured vaguely at their surroundings. “And instead of giving her the space to do that, you’re chasing her down like she’s some mission you need to complete.”

Jason’s words hit Dick like a slap in the face, leaving him momentarily stunned.

“I’m just trying to help her,” Dick said softly, his voice losing some of its fire.

Jason sighed, running a hand through his hair, finally removing his helmet. His face was set in a hard expression, but there was something raw in his eyes. “Yeah, well, sometimes helping means knowing when to back the hell off.”

The two of them stood in tense silence, the night air heavy with unspoken words. Finally, Jason stepped back, shaking his head. “If you want to do something for her, stop acting like you know what’s best for her. I’d rather see her alive than rotting as a damn corpse, labelled as one of the old man’s fallen soldiers.”

With that, Jason turned and walked away, leaving Dick standing there, the weight of the conversation pressing heavily on his shoulders.

The thugs were all rounded up and still unconscious, whereas Jason was out of sight. But his words lingered in Dick’s mind, playing on a loop.

I’d rather see her alive than rotting as a damn corpse.

Dick sighed, sitting on the edge of the rooftop. His escrima sticks rested loosely in his hands as he stared down at the empty streets below. Jason’s parting words had hit their mark, and he hated to admit it. The thought of you… dying—just the word alone made his stomach churn.

Jason had already died once, and Dick hadn’t been there to stop it. He hadn’t been there to save him. If the same thing happened to you, if you ended up another casualty in their endless war against Gotham’s darkness…

That’s on him.

He swallowed hard, gripping his escrima sticks tighter as guilt began to settle in his chest like a lead weight. Jason was right. It was probably a good thing you quit. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he let another one of his siblings die.

Siblings.

The word felt heavy now, laden with unspoken truths. Jason’s earlier jab suddenly clawed its way to the forefront of Dick’s mind:

Don’t stand there and act like you have any right to talk about my relationship with her when I don’t see you even having half of what me and her had before.

Did Jason really believe that? Did you?

He shook his head, trying to dismiss the thought. Of course, he cared about you. Of course, he’d been there for you. Hadn’t he?

But as much as he wanted to dismiss Jason’s words, they stuck with him, gnawing at the edges of his conscience. Slowly, memories began to surface, unbidden and relentless.

He was Robin then—young, brash, and full of anger. The grief over his parents’ deaths was still fresh, a raw wound he didn’t know how to heal. And you… you were Bruce’s kid. That was all he saw you as. He watched you grow up, become this bubbly kid, who, for some reason, looked up to him a lot.

But what did he do with that? He bailed.

He could remember it so clearly now, those moments when you’d ask him to play with you, to just talk—and he’d brush you off. “Not now, (Name),” he’d say, and ruffle your hair. The Teen Titans needed him. Gotham needed him. But you didn’t know that. Bruce wanted to keep you out of this life, and frankly, he did too. Which was why there was always some excuse to explain why he was so busy, why he couldn’t play with you for as long as you wanted him to.

He winced as another memory came rushing back: one of the many times you’d waited up for him in the living room, hoping to show him some new arts and craft you did, or one of your tests that you did really well in. He’d walked in with Wally and Donna, laughing about something from their latest mission, barely sparing you a glance.

“Wow, this is nice!” He’d say absent-mindedly, before ruffling your hair like you were some kid tagging along.

“I’ll catch you later, alright?” he’d say, and then he’d leave you alone.

And what had you done? You’d nodded, forced a smile, even as disappointment flashed across your face. He hadn’t noticed it then—not really. He’d been too caught up in his own world, too focused on proving himself to the team, to Bruce, to everyone.

Dick let out a shaky breath, the weight of those memories settling over him like a suffocating blanket. God, Jason was right.

He hadn’t been there for you the way Jason had. Jason, for all his faults, had always been someone you could count on when he first came to the family—someone who didn’t bail, who didn’t make you feel lonely.

But that was before his death. Now things were different between you two. Neither of you were willing to repair the broken bond you two once shared. Why? He wasn’t sure.

Dick rubbed a hand over his face, the ache in his chest growing sharper. “Damnit,” he muttered under his breath.

What could he even do to make this right? To show you that you mattered to him—that you’d always mattered?

But deep down, he already knew the answer. He couldn’t fix this with mere words or gestures or even the best intentions. He had to show you, prove to you, that he was here for you now. That he wasn’t going to leave you alone this time.

Even if that meant letting you go for now, giving you the space you clearly needed. Even if that meant accepting that you no longer wanted to be Batgirl, that he’d fallen short. But he was willing to do better. Even if it meant he’d had to wait.

The thought hurt, but it was better than losing you for good.

“This is nice.”

The warm sunlight filtered through the trees at Gotham Park, casting dappled patterns across the picnic blanket. Caitlyn was leaned against you, her sketchpad balanced on her knees, pencil gliding smoothly as she doodled. Adrien sat cross-legged across from you both, stuffing another bite of a homemade pastry into his mouth with an exaggerated hum of delight.

Adrien nodded enthusiastically, agreeing with Caitlyn, as he pointed his fork at you. “You can say that again! (Name), I didn’t know you could make treats like this! They’re so good!”

Caitlyn grinned, glancing up from her sketch. “Literally! This is amazing. You’ve been holding out on us, chef.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked down at your hands, a little bashful at their praise. “I… honestly didn’t think I could make anything this good,” you admitted, brushing a strand of hair out of your face.

“You’re kidding, right?” Adrien said, picking up another cookie. “These are, like, professional-level good. If you ever decide to stop… uh, doing whatever it is you do after school, you could totally open a bakery or something.”

You laughed, though the comment stung just a little—only because you didn’t know you were good at making pasteries.

To fill up your now free schedule after quiting as Batgirl, you had gone to Alfred and asked him to teach you how to bake.

Alfred, helpful and patient as always, agreed without hesitation. “Baking, my dear,” he had said with a faint smile, “is both a science and an art. It requires precision, but it is also a most rewarding endeavor.”

And so, your evenings became a blend of warmth, flour-dusted counters, and Alfred’s gentle guidance. He would show you how to knead dough, measure ingredients with precision, and even share some of his most guarded recipes—ones he claimed even your father was particularly fond of.

When you weren’t in the kitchen with Alfred, you spent your afternoons at the library with Caitlyn and Adrien. Studying with them, or rather, helping them study, had become another way to fill your time.

High school material was easy enough for you—thanks to your first life. You’d already tackled algebra, chemistry, and history years ago. So instead of cramming for tests yourself, you found yourself explaining concepts to Caitlyn and Adrien, who both leaned heavily on your ability to simplify even the most convoluted topics.

“Okay, so… if x is equal to 4, then y has to be…” Adrien tapped his pencil against his notebook, staring intently at the equation in front of him

“Eight,” Caitlyn supplied confidently, but her grin faltered when Adrien and you both gave her a look.

“Try again,” you said with a soft laugh, pointing to the part of the equation she’d miscalculated.

Caitlyn groaned dramatically, flopping back into her chair. “Math is dumb.”

“Math is logical,” you corrected, though your teasing tone made Adrien snort. “You just need to stop skipping steps.”

“Why does it feel like you’re giving us the cheat sheet to life?” Adrien said, glancing up from his notes. “You make this stuff seem so easy.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Caitlyn chimed in. “Are you secretly some kind of math genius or something?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “I’ve just… always been good at this kind of thing.”

They didn’t need to know the full truth—that you’d already gone through high school. They didn’t know the truth about you or your family before, and you weren’t planning to change that now. They didn’t need to know about the mask you’d taken off or the life you were trying to leave behind. For now, it was enough to help them, to enjoy their company, and to let this simpler version of your life unfold.

It was strange, almost surreal, how quickly you’d settled into this new routine. But you found that you didn’t mind it. For the first time in a long time, life felt… normal. And maybe that was what you needed most.

As Caitlyn returned to her doodling and Adrien polished off another pastry, you leaned back on your hands, letting the moment sink in. It felt… peaceful. A rare pocket of calm in the chaos that had been your life lately.

The park was lively but not overwhelming, the gentle hum of laughter and chatter from other families and friends creating a soothing backdrop. The late afternoon sun warmed your skin, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you felt grounded.

“Hey,” Adrien said suddenly, breaking you out of your thoughts. “We should do this more often.”

Caitlyn nodded. “Agreed. This is probably the most relaxed I’ve seen you in weeks, (Name).”

You hesitated, glancing between your two friends. They weren’t wrong. But a part of you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt. You weren’t being truthful to them, yet they were still being so nice. You didn’t deserve them.

You opened your mouth to reply, ready to brush off Caitlyn’s and Adrien’s comments, when a sudden, sharp flash of green invaded your vision. It was jarring—so vivid and overwhelming that you winced, instinctively bringing a hand to your temple. For a moment, it felt like the world tilted on its axis, the vibrant sounds of the park muffled by the ringing in your ears.

And just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

You blinked, your heart racing as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. The green was seared into your memory, the edges of it glowing like embers before fading entirely. The momentary pain in your head vanished, leaving behind nothing but confusion.

“What the hell…” you muttered under your breath, still dazed.

“(Name)!” Caitlyn’s voice was sharp with concern, snapping you out of your stupor. “Are you okay? What just happened?”

Adrien leaned closer, his eyes wide with worry. “You winced. Are you alright? Did you hurt yourself?”

You glanced between the two of them, their faces etched with genuine concern. You didn’t want to worry them. You couldn’t worry them. So you forced a laugh, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing, really. Just a headache. Probably didn’t drink enough water or something.”

But Caitlyn wasn’t buying it. She immediately pushed herself off you, her sketchbook forgotten as she leaned in close, her expression dead serious. “Nope. No way. If you’ve got a headache, you need to go home and rest. Sun’s probably not helping either.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Adrien chimed in, nodding emphatically. “Don’t push yourself too much. We can always continue this another time, okay?”

You tried to protest, but their stubbornness left no room for argument. Caitlyn was already packing up the picnic, her movements quick and decisive, while Adrien carefully wrapped up the leftover pastries.

“You guys are being dramatic—” you started to say, but Caitlyn cut you off with a pointed glare.

“Nope. Not hearing it. We’re not taking any chances,” she insisted, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Come on, we’ll walk you home.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you realized there was no point in fighting them on this. “Alright, alright. I’ll go.”

As the three of you made your way out of the park, Caitlyn clinging protectively to your arm, your thoughts drifted back to the green flashes. What the hell was that? It wasn’t just a headache—that much you knew.

You forced a smile as Caitlyn began chattering about her latest art project, Adrien throwing in jokes to lighten the mood. But in the back of your mind, the unsettling image of green light lingered, pulsing faintly like a warning you couldn’t ignore.

You finally managed to convince Caitlyn and Adrien to leave you at the gates of Wayne Manor, reassuring them for what felt like the hundredth time that you’d be fine. They only relented when you promised to text them once you’re feeling better, and with a wave and one last concerned glance, they finally left. You sighed in relief and turned toward the manor, making your way inside.

When you stepped inside, that’s when you saw him—a familiar, bubbly boy practically skipping towards the manor entrance. Jon Kent. Superman’s son. Damian’s best (and only) friend.

Wow. He looked so much younger than you remembered.

The moment Jon spotted you, his face lit up. Before you could even blink, he was flying over to you, his grin wide and infectious. “(Name)!” he called cheerfully as he landed in front of you, his feet barely making a sound on the gravel path.

You blinked, startled but unable to help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Hey, Jon.”

“How are you? Are you okay? You look okay! Wait—were you out? Where did you go? Do you need help carrying anything?!” He practically bounced on his heels as he bombarded you with questions, his usual excited energy radiating off him like sunlight.

You chuckled fondly, shaking your head as you answered. “I’m fine, Jon, really. And no, I don’t need help. I was just out with some friends.”

“Oh, okay!” he chirped, looking momentarily reassured. “I was just here hanging out with Damian, but—uh, well…” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his cheeks turning a little pink. “I kinda didn’t tell my parents I was flying over here. So, you know, I should probably head back to Metropolis before they notice I’m gone.”

You snorted softly at that, a nostalgic warmth in your chest. “Your secret’s safe with me. I’ll pretend I didn’t see you.” You said, and winked.

Jon’s grin returned in full force, but it faltered slightly as he looked at you again. This time, his expression was hesitant, uncertain, like he was trying to figure out how to say something.

“What’s wrong?” you asked gently, tilting your head at him.

Jon shuffled his feet, his voice quieter now. “Uh… can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

He hesitated again, looking down before blurting out, “Is everything okay between you and Damian?”

You froze. The question caught you completely off guard. Your mind stalled, your smile faltering as you stared at him, wide-eyed and stunned.

Jon must’ve noticed, because he immediately panicked, waving his hands frantically as he backtracked. “Oh! You don’t have to answer! Forget I asked! It’s just—” He fumbled over his words, his cheeks turning red. “I was asking Damian about you, and he… he kinda just glared at me. And then he changed the subject! Really fast! Like, super fast. And, uh… I’ve never really seen him act like that before.”

You blinked, his words sinking in slowly. Damian… avoiding the subject of you? Now that you thought about it, you hadn’t exactly seen Damian around the manor since that argument in your room. It was like he was going out of his way to avoid you entirely. Was he?

But you couldn’t let Jon worry about that. He was just a kid, and this wasn’t his problem. So, instead of letting your own thoughts spiral, you forced a laugh and reached out to ruffle his hair gently. “Don’t worry about it, Jon. Damian and I just got into an argument, that’s all. Nothing to lose sleep over.”

Jon blinked up at you, his expression still unsure, but he nodded slowly, leaning into the comforting touch of your hand. “Okay… if you say so.”

“Really. We’ll work it out,” you reassured him, giving his hair one last affectionate pat. Somehow.

He smiled again, though it was a little smaller this time. “Alright. I just wanted to make sure. You know… you’re important to Damian too, even if he doesn’t say it.”

You paused at that, something in your chest squeezing painfully, but before you could respond, Jon glanced at the time and jolted upright. “Oh no! I really gotta go now, or I’m so dead!”

With that, he gave you a hurried wave, his boyish grin returning. “Bye, (Name)! I’ll see you soon, okay?”

You smiled softly and waved back as he floated up into the sky, watching as he zipped off toward Metropolis in a blur of red and blue. Once he was gone, you let out a slow breath, your hand falling to your side as your thoughts drifted back to Damian.

Jon’s words lingered in your mind.

You’re important to Damian too.

It doesn’t really feel that way though….

Alfred Pennyworth, ever the watchful guardian of Wayne Manor, had always considered it his duty—not just as a butler, but as something far more profound—to care for the members of the Wayne family. For all their strength and tenacity, they were, at their core, human. Bruce and his children—each carrying burdens far heavier than any child or young adult should. And so, he noticed things. He always noticed.

Lately, what he noticed most was the way you carried yourself these past few days—lighter, freer. There was a spark in your eyes that had been absent for far too long, a small but significant ease in your posture. You looked happier. Relaxed, even. It was subtle, something anyone else might have overlooked, but not Alfred. No, he knew you. He knew what haunted you when you thought no one was looking. But now? Now you seemed… different.

Frankly, he hoped it stayed that way.

“Miss (Name), if I may,” Alfred began gently as he watched you measure flour into a bowl, a little puff of white powder escaping into the air. “You seem… at peace, lately...”

You paused, glancing up at him with a small, slightly sheepish smile. “Is it that obvious?”

“Indeed.” He gave you a soft, knowing look as he adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves. “Would it be terribly forward of me to inquire as to what—or who—has brought about this change?”

You shifted, focusing a little too hard on sifting the flour as you shrugged. “It’s my friends. Caitlyn and Adrien. They helped me realize there’s more to life than just…” You trailed off, searching for the right words.

“Than just the responsibilities placed upon your shoulders?” Alfred offered delicately.

You nodded, giving him a grateful glance. “Yeah. Something like that.”

Your friends. Alfred found himself deeply relieved to hear that you had people like Caitlyn and Adrien in your life—people who brought you happiness, people who helped lighten the weight you carried. “I see,” he said with a small smile. “It gladdens my heart to know you have such loyal companions. Though, might I suggest inviting them here, to the manor?”

You blinked, looking at him as though he’d suggested something preposterous. “Alfred…”

“Miss, it would seem only fair for me to meet the individuals who have been instrumental in helping you through your turmoil. They seem like lovely people.” His tone was kind, slight humourous even, as he mixed something in a nearby bowl.

You laughed softly, but there was a stubborn edge to it as you shook your head. “As much as I’d like for you to meet them, I don’t think that’s a good idea, Alfred. They don’t know about this family’s secrets, and I intend to keep it that way..”

Alfred raised an eyebrow, ever patient. “I’m certain Master Bruce and Master Richard can manage a polite exchange, at the very least.”

You gave him a pointed look, and Alfred sighed, though it was laced with fondness. “Very well, Miss (Name). If you insist.”

“Thanks,” you said softly, giving him a small smile.

Though Alfred was slightly disappointed at your reluctance, he respected your wishes. He always did. And if your friends made you happy—even if he wouldn’t be able to meet them—then he supposed that was enough for now.

“Now then,” Alfred said, turning back to the task at hand, “you’ll want to add the butter slowly while continuing to mix.”

You hummed as you followed his instruction, your brow furrowing in concentration. The two of you fell into an easy rhythm, the kitchen filling with the soft sounds of utensils clinking, the hum of the oven warming, and your quiet conversation.

“So, Miss Caitlyn and Mister Adrien—are they excelling in their studies with your assistance?”

“Adrien, yes,” you said, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. “Caitlyn… well, she’s trying, but math isn’t really her thing.”

“And yet you continue to help them both. How noble of you,” Alfred replied as he handed you a whisk. “And what of school itself? Are you settling in well?”

You shrugged, starting to mix the ingredients. “Eh…It’s alright. A little boring sometimes, but I guess it’s better than…”

Dying.

You stopped yourself short, quickly correcting, “better than not being in school at all.”

Alfred didn’t miss the slip, but he didn’t press. “Indeed. A dull day can be a blessing in disguise.”

You gave him a thoughtful look, lips quirking into a soft smile. “You always know what to say, Alfred.”

“I try, Miss (Name). I try.”

And as Alfred watched you work—your expression relaxed, your mind seemingly at ease—he hoped, quietly, that this simpler version of your life, this peaceful respite, would last just a little longer.

The soft hum of the oven filled the kitchen as you pulled the last batch of treats onto the counter. The warm, golden pastries sat neatly on their tray, a small comfort in a life that had otherwise been anything but neat. Baking had become your escape—an anchor to hold onto when everything else felt like it was slipping through your fingers.

But the calm was short-lived.

Alfred’s comm buzzed quietly, and though his expression remained composed, you saw the subtle shift in his demeanor—a slight straightening of his back, the way his gaze sharpened. Something was happening.

“It seems Master Bruce and the others require my assistance,” he said, his tone steady as always.

You already knew what that meant. Gotham was in chaos again.

Alfred turned to you, his expression softening with the familiarity of his next question. “Are you sure you do not wish to assist? They could use an extra hand, Miss (Name).”

The offer hung in the air, and for a second, you hesitated. There was always a small part of you that wanted to say yes, to jump back into action and prove yourself—to prove you could help.

But then you suddenly got flashbacks of a memory that you had kept stored away. Oh right. You remembered what this attack was.

Another one of Riddler’s bombing attacks.

Riddler had been terrorizing Gotham with a string of coordinated explosions around this time, targeting key buildings across the city. Chaos had unfolded over the city as your father, along with other available vigilantes in Gotham, scrambled to contain the damage, evacuate civilians, and track down Riddler before he could set off another series of bombs.

You had been told to stay put back then. “It’s too dangerous,” Bruce had said. “We need you to sit this one out.”

But you hadn’t listened.

You’d tracked down one of Riddler’s supposed locations on your own, convinced you could help. The moment you arrived, you knew you’d made a mistake. The building had been rigged, and your sudden presence sent everything spiraling. The countdown on the bomb accelerated. The Riddler’s men panicked and scattered, slipping out before Bruce and the others could surround them.

Dick, Tim, Stephanie and Cassandra had to swoop in to clean up the mess—disarming the bomb, calming the chaos, and stopping any further destruction. They managed to save the day, to prevent any civilian casualties, but Riddler himself got away.

Bruce’s fury still echoed in your head.

“Do you have any idea what you nearly cost us tonight?”

You hadn’t been able to look him in the eye.

“They got the job done,” you’d mumbled, your voice small, but that hadn’t mattered to him.

“Because they had to clean up after you,” he’d snapped, his words sharp enough to sting. “You disobeyed a direct order, and you let Riddler slip away.”

It was one of those moments you wouldn’t forget. Not because of Bruce’s anger, but because he’d been right. You’d wanted to help, and all you’d done was make it harder for everyone else.

Back in the kitchen, you swallowed hard, snapping back to the present. Alfred was still watching you patiently, waiting for an answer.

“I’m sure,” you said finally, your voice tight but firm. You offered a small, forced smile. “They don’t need me. They can handle it themselves.”

For a moment, Alfred regarded you with that knowing look of his, like he could see through every wall you’d put up.

“Very well,” he said softly, though there was a faint note of disappointment in his voice. “If you change your mind…”

“I won’t,” you cut in quickly, your voice quieter this time.

Alfred gave a small nod, seemingly accepting your answer, though you didn’t miss the flicker of concern in his gaze as he turned toward the door.

As he left to fulfill his duties, the kitchen fell silent once more. You leaned back against the counter, staring blankly at the pastries you’d worked so hard on.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides.

“They don’t need me,” you whispered to yourself, repeating the words like a mantra.

But it didn’t feel comforting. It felt hollow.

Because, deep down, the truth still hurts you even now.

You stood in the quiet kitchen for a moment after Alfred left, the hum of the Wayne Manor settling into the evening stillness. The smell of baked goods lingered in the air, but even that wasn’t enough to soothe the weight pressing down on you. With a tired sigh, you began packing everything away, carefully placing the treats into containers and wiping down the counters.

Once the kitchen was clean and silent, you dragged yourself upstairs to your room. It had been a long day—long week, really—and all you wanted to do was sleep. Kicking off your shoes and pulling the blankets over yourself, you let exhaustion take over. For once, you didn’t dream.

A sharp ringing jolted you awake.

Your eyes cracked open reluctantly, the faint glow of your phone lighting up your bedside table. The clock read 4:23 AM. Groaning, you fumbled for the phone, squinting at the screen to see an incoming call—and a series of missed notifications.

22 messages from Caitlyn.

The sight alone snapped you out of your drowsiness. Your stomach twisted, the urgency of it sinking in as you swiped to pick up.

“Caitlyn?” Your voice was groggy and thick with sleep, but there was an edge of concern as you sat up in bed. “What’s going on?”

“(Name)!” Caitlyn’s voice came through the line, panicked, frantic, and scared. It hit you like a punch to the gut. “Oh my god, I—It’s Adrien….He—He’s in the hospital…!”

What?

I think you guys should read the masterlist once more in case you missed out any key warnings…

taglist (1/2): @tricksters-maze @dusk-muse @quethekillerqueen @silverklaus @isupportorbitalbombardment @nxdxsworld @vanessa-boo @coffeeaddictxd @moonsbluekingdom @yuya-bubbly @percythebitchwitch @anonymousdisco @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @redsakura101 @what-0-life @idkwhattoputhete @secretyouthcomputer @witch-waycult @allycat4458 @dazed-lavender @eclecticfurylady @wizzerreblogs @marsmabe @daddysfangirls-dc @hoeinthehouse @beeweensblog @ilxandra @agent-nobody-knows @thethingwiththefeathers @mochiivqi @pix-stuff @narration-ator @nebulousmoon3990 @delias-stuff @froggy-voidd @jjsmeowthie @kore-of-the-underworld @nen-nyy @juthesillylesbain @vikkus-main @emilylouise123 @blueiones @horror-lover-69 @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wassupbroski55555 @reallyromealone @plsfckmedxddy @sea-glasses @203moonysello @luvly-writer @dovey-quacks2332 @love-theangel @hotdinoankles @vebbiewuzhere @animegirlfromvietnam @estreiiuh @simply-lovely78 @twismare @ssak-i @g4bbi3xx @alor-thes | ask to be added <3 (idk why i can’t tag some of y’all, must be your settings i think 😓)

[yanderenightmare]

part one

TW: nsfw, dubcon, blackmail

fem reader

As promised, you receive the pictures in the mail while the payment is forwarded almost emmidiatly. You don’t know which makes you gawk more, the photos of you or the numbers.

You also get an email—an invitation. The photographer is asking you to dinner. Or, asking is putting it nicely—which he most certainly didn’t. It’s phrased like a notice from your boss—matter-of-factly, he’s picking you up at eight, wear something nice.

You think about declining, but then you think about your friend again and how you don’t want to cause her any trouble. A free dinner isn’t really all that bad, is it?

It’s worse, actually.

“You should have told me you didn’t have anything to wear. I would have lent you something,” is the first thing he says when you get in his car. He hadn’t opened the door for you or anything, just sat in the driver’s seat waiting.

And though your cheeks burn with embarrassment, you think you’re foolish for it. You hadn't really dressed to impress him, after all—something you might as well tell him, “Maybe I just didn’t feel like dressing up. You didn’t exactly leave a good impression last time we met, so I don’t believe I owe you anything.”

He scoffs with a grin—face turned towards the road as he starts driving. “You have a lot more bite without your friend.”

“She has too much respect for you.” You cross your arms and look out the window. 

“That’s for sure.” You hear him chuckle, but he doesn’t offer any more of a response. You’re glad to spend the rest of the drive in silence.

You feel underdressed at the restaurant. You hadn’t thought he’d take you somewhere so nice. Most of the other couples there are dressed as if for a gala, while you’re dressed as if you’re going to an office party.

He hasn’t tried too hard himself. But still, he fits in—fat watch on his wrist, kempt hair, neat shoes, dress trousers, and a silk shirt with one too many buttons undone—a nauseating skinny chain beneath the collar as well as the hint of a chest tattoo. You bet it’s one of those dumb tribal inks, probably with some mundane Japanese characters he doesn’t know the meaning of.

“Is this where you undermine all the models desperate for your recognition?” you sigh as you sit down.

“We haven't even gotten our menus, and you’re already causing a scene?” 

He’s the one who was rude the moment you got in the car. In fact, he was rude the minute you met him. “Might as well speed this along.”

He chuckles—his smile genuinely amused instead of angered the way you’d imagined—the way you’d remembered from last time when he sent girls crying. “You know, for a face like that, you have one hell of a tongue.”

He orders wine by the name with ease and swiftness before returning to what he was saying.

“I like that. Most models are dull, but not you.”

“I don’t agree. And I’m a model,” you snip, showing no interest in his flirting.

 “No? Didn’t you see the pictures?” Your attitude doesn’t seem to deter him—rather, it only seems to egg him further on. “I have them all mounted on my walls at home—you should come see.”

This makes you falter. Looking at him from across the table with rounded eyes. “On your walls?”

“Framed.” He smiles, finally having broken through—he only intends to take it further. Not that what he was saying wasn’t true. “I just couldn’t help myself. I consider it my best work.” 

The look on your face is something between disgusted and uncertain—speechless in a sense.

It makes him laugh again. “Does anything flatter you?”

The wine comes. He’s poured a glass for testing.

“Not when spoken by men like you.”

His grin grows as he swirls the liquid around, smelling it like a phony.

“That’s a shame,” he says before taking a sip. He nods to the waiter, and you’re poured a similar glass. Meanwhile, he looks at you. “I’d like to flatter you—I’d like to spoil you even. You seem like you deserve it.”

You sip your glass. “No need.”

“I’m not so sure about that. You currently work at a diner, right?”

You gaze at him from atop your glass, brows furrowing. “How do you—”

“I didn’t.” It’s a lie, of course, he’d searched you up and gone over every little detail he could find. “It’s clear from the looks of you—”

“Fuck you,” you snap, putting your glass down a bit too harshly, enough to make a little wine slip and spill.

He doesn’t mind it. “Oh, I want you to,” he says instead. “After I pay for dinner and drive you back. We can fuck right under my favorite portrait of you.”

You’re stunted by his crude words, but only for a second. “How about we skip dinner, and you go fuck yourself.” 

His smile doesn’t drop, even as you get up to leave. “Settle down, sweetheart.”

“Make me, jackass.” 

You’re on your way to go, but his next words have you halting. 

“Either you humor me, or I make sure your friend never models in the country again.”

You turn around to look at him. You don’t really know why you’re so surprised. The card he just pulled is the very reason you agreed to the dinner in the first place. But an incentive is very different from outright blackmail, and suppose you just hadn’t really believed he’d take it that far.

“It’s my impression you don’t want that,” he continues.

You sit back down. He tops your glass off.

“I could make her big, you know?” he offers while pouring for himself as well. “Really speed her career along—set her up for life. I’ll do the same for you, too, of course.” 

He swirls his wine, lifting it as if to make a toast.

“And all you gotta do is come back home with me.”

You don’t have the words.

“You won’t be disappointed,” he promises. “I’m good at it.” As if that’s your concern. “You’ll never want to fuck anyone else again.”

You hate how right he is. 

You’ve never cum sooner or harder before in your life, not with anyone else or on your own. It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced—so good, you’re screaming—moaning out in echoes throughout his giant penthouse, bouncing off the marble floors into all unlocked rooms, creating a cacophony of your undeniable pleasure.

He’s on his knees beneath you as you lean with your back against the window overlooking the city, barely able to stand as he buries his face between your soft thighs, canting his chin up while lapping hard at your slit and clit. His hard stare set on your face and the way you throw your head back while cumming in his mouth—your hand tussled in his hair, yanking on it hard enough to make him growl.

Your legs and feet give you little support. It's his hands that keep you up as you slide further and further down the floor-to-ceiling window until you’re almost about ready to drop your weight completely.

But he’s made you come undone three times by then, and just can’t wait any longer. 

He’s spun you around before you know it, making you face the pretty lights of the city skyline—his mouth hot on the shell of your ear, “I told you so, didn’t I?”

Your breath fogs the glass with your panting—knees wobbly, only standing thanks to the thick arms he’s got supporting you, each with a tit in their hand, giving them rough squeezes as he starts pounding away at your womb—hard enough to make the city lights blend in with the stars. 

“You won’t wanna fuck anyone else again.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shigaraki, Dabi, Aizawa, Shinso, Overhaul ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Naoya, Toji ♡ HQ – Oikawa ♡ BLLK – Reo, Rin ♡ AOT – Levi ♡ DS – Akaza, Sanemi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[heesimp]

tasty (heeseung)

summary: it’s not your week and it doesn’t seem like the semester will ease up on you as time flies by, but your best friend is here to help in more ways than one.

word count: 5.6K

notes: based off of this request. thank you anon! I probably won’t open a taglist at this time but I’ll let you know if I do when I post other fics. XX

warnings: reader touches herself, porn mentions, vibrator mention, phone sex, oral (f. receiving), dirty talking, mentions of heeseung with other girls, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex.

“You sure you don’t want to go out with us?” 

Your co-workers stare at you while you try to push down any simmer irritation. They’re not to blame, but pestering you to go out to a bar and get drunk when all you want to do is go home, is making you even more irritated. They mean no harm and look at you with sorry eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you tell them. Luckily for you, they nod and accept your decline. “Thanks for the invite though.”

“Well if you change your mind, you know where to find us.” 

In typical twenty-something-year-old fashion, certain days feel longer than most. Today is no exception. It’s hard to navigate the woes of landing on your feet when you’re wrapped up in midterm projects and trying to have a social life without throwing yourself off balance. When the semester started, you were nothing other than a happy-go-lucky, fourth-year university student who was excited to finish college and take the first step towards “real life.” Unfortunately for you, your days would get tough before you’d see it to the finish line. 

The ride back to your apartment isn’t long by any means but the traffic from your job at a convenience store was met with rush hour. The bus took much longer than usual but you always anticipate that when you’re scheduled until 5pm. Everybody’s going home at the same time and even public transportation falls victim to the hustle and bustle of corporate life. 

On your way home, you can’t help but linger on the inconveniences of the recent past. Midterms have snuck up on you like they do every year and no amount of studying into the night could ever prepare you for the stress that comes with obsessing over good grades for five separate classes. It kills you that no two tests weigh the same and preparing for projects feels like you’re signing a death sentence. You’ve barely seen your friends aside from in passing and haven’t had any time to take care of yourself and have fun. 

It feels as though you’ve lost all motivation because school and work has sucked the energy right out of you. Even your best friend, Lee Heeseung, has started to soften up around you because he can tell how stressed you are. If anything, the amount of unread texts from him and your absence in his physical life is a telltale sign that school is kicking your ass, but he knows you always bounce back. You know you will too, but right now it feels like it’ll take too long to get there. 

The first thing you do is take all of your clothes off and settle them in the dirty hamper and take a shower, cleaning off the grime from a long day outside of your bedroom. Your hair is clean and your skin feels silk to the touch when you step out and dry yourself. It takes a great deal of effort to follow through on your skincare routine and tidy up your room so that it doesn’t feel like an overwhelming mess the more you look at it. Today sucked. There’s no doubt about that. 

Eventually, the clock turns into a late hour after you’ve had dinner and a sweet treat to make up for the awfully long and boring day you had. The week drains on you and you’re looking forward to the weekend because that means you don’t have to work. After settling in bed with the television on, you try your best to let your worries escape you and focus on what’s in front of you. 

Whether the show is too boring or you’re too worked up, you don’t know. The TV is long forgotten as you aimlessly scroll through your phone and start pushing your thighs together and clench around absolutely nothing when you log into a Twitter account you don’t post on. It must be out of habit to act like this when you see the familiar username because it’s where you keep your porn stash for when you need to get off. There’s everything you could ever want–short videos, photos, and links to other websites that always gets you off. The long day has made you think about how you need at least a single win in order for this week to not completely suck. Bringing yourself to orgasm might be the way to do it. 

You spread your legs underneath the covers and take a finger to tease up your slit that’s covered by your panties and hold your phone in your free hand, using your thumb to scroll past the plethora of videos that turn you on. It’s all about finding the right one, and seeing big dicks and wet pussies makes you worked up. You start to forget about the week and consider that a good start. 

Moving your finger against your covered pussy always makes you wet. You imagine it’s someone else teasing you the way you like it and pretend you don’t need to move a muscle to get off. Swiping the tips of your fingers back and forth makes you soak through the pathetic fabric anyway, and the excitement of your arousal makes you gush right onto your panties. 

You scroll through them one by one and pull your panties to the side to feel just how wet you’ve become and moan quietly as the feeling of your slicked up walls. Pushing a finger inside, the welcomed sensation is exactly what you needed after a hard week. You add two, then three, and pump them in and out of you with your legs bent towards your chest. It should be an easy orgasm. 

Except, it isn’t. Three of your own fingers isn’t enough.

At this rate, you don’t know how long you’ve been rutting your hips but what you do know is that you can’t seem to get yourself off with just your fingers. Pulling them out makes you wince at the loss and you force yourself off of your bed to find your trusty vibrator that has always served you when you need to get off quickly. You dig for it in the depths of your drawers but, to your dismay, the device is uncharged. You’re far too worked up to wait for it to become usable. You crawl into your bed again and angrily look through your phone at the porn in your bookmarks and try to get yourself back to that state of euphoria when you started touching yourself, but knowing too much is bothering you is preventing you from letting go. 

Your room echoes as you groan in frustration when your eyes land on a photo on your desk. It’s a picture of you and Heeseung that Jay took when the three of you hung out together after you first moved into this apartment. The two of them helped move boxes and furniture, and you rewarded them with a free meal from the noodle shop across the street. Heeseung sits next to you with his thighs pressed against yours because of the small table but neither of you really cared. 

That’s the thing, though. Heeseung isn’t shy about physical touch with you or anyone else. He’s the kind of guy girls feel comfortable around with just a few words spoken and you’ve always envied the way Heeseung can talk his way through anything. People love him, girls want to fuck him, and guys want to be like him. There’s a part of you that wishes you could exude the same aura that your best friend does but, unlike him, you cower at any chance of interaction and can’t seem to get anyone to be interested in you the way you’re interested in them. Heeseung has heard your fair share of love debacles whereas it seems like romance is presented to him with the snap of a finger. 

It isn’t that you haven’t had experiences with sex and dating, but they haven’t been worthwhile. So far, nobody has been memorable enough to keep in your backpocket for days like this, when you need a hot and erotic memory to come in an instant. It feels impossible to find guys who know what they’re doing when a woman is presented in front of them. Guys are so lucky because it takes next to nothing to get them hard and get them off. 

And like, your best friend has had his fair share of hookup stories that leave you wetter than a goddamn fountain. He’s not shy about skimping the details because he’s seen you cry snot since kindergarten and you’ve seen him eat shit on bicycles since elementary school. Sex isn’t off the table. You just don’t have anything to contribute and he doesn’t judge you for it. You aren’t really keen on telling him about all of the bad experiences you’ve had when he talks about how mind blowing sex for him is. Part of you is envious that your best friend has never had one bad day of sex in his life. Allegedly. 

Still, this frustration bubbles up and there’s nothing you can do to quell the way you feel. Perhaps it’s a mix of general life stress and the events leading up to this very moment. The entire day felt like a test to your patience as minor inconveniences piled up on top of one another before your breaking point. You thought your vibrator sitting uncharged was your last straw but it seems like your mind isn’t clear enough to focus on getting off. You recall a few unread text messages from Heeseung and open your shared text thread with him and watch all of the funny TikTok videos and tweets he sends you. You’re missing him right now. 

Heeseung answers after one ring. 

“Back from the dead, I see. What’s up?” 

You huff. “Nothing.” You hear him laughing from the other line. The faint sound of his keyboard clicking echoes in your ears. 

“Can’t be nothing. You always call me when you need to tell me something.” 

“Not true.”

“Y/N, you and I both know you prefer to talk on the phone when you have something important you need to say so neither of us ends up sending long voice memos.” Okay, he’s got you there. “So begs the question: What’s up?”

“Well I called you because I’m bored. Happy?”

Heeseung laughs again. You’re sure he can hear your disdain. “It’s a good thing I know how to deal with your attitude, huh? Since you’re bored, I’ll have you know you’re calling me while I’m playing with the guys.”

“What, no girl to hook up with?” 

“Not tonight, princess.” 

“How sad.” 

“If you must know why, I had a pretty long day at work but I’m fine now. Jake’s ass keeps dying so that’s pretty funny.” You don’t say anything, not right away. Not when you realize you called him in a haste and that you’re naked except for a tank stop and dainty white socks. The realization makes your cheeks heat up as you think about it, even though Heeseung can’t see what you’re wearing. “You good? You’re unusually quiet, especially when you give me attitude.” That makes you roll your eyes.

“You know, it’s unfair that all you have to do to get off is brush your hand against your dick.”

“Where’s this coming from? You don’t really talk about sex. Is everything alright?”

“It’s unfair!” He hears you groan in frustration. You’re somewhat annoyed he’s still typing away on his gaming keyboard.

“Y/N…Are you okay? What’s gotten into you?”

That question alone seems to ease your mind a little as your irritation bubbles over the surface. You couldn’t stop yourself from talking even if you tried. You tell Heeseung everything, good and bad, and he won’t relent until he knows you’re okay. But even this is treading into new territory. It isn’t that you haven’t noticed just how attractive your best friend has gotten since you met him for the first time as kids, but it’s the first time you’ve ever acknowledged it while talking to him. 

“I can’t get myself off.”

Your voice is barely above a whisper. You don’t hear the sound of his keyboard anymore.

“What?”

“Heeseung…”

“No, say it again.” 

Suddenly, you’re starting to regret calling him to complain about something like this. You feel like you might as well be diving into the depths of your secrets.

“I can’t get myself off.” He hears you whisper it into the phone. 

“Did I hear you correct? You can’t get yourself off?” Heeseung curses under his breath and his hands have stopped typing on his keyboard completely. Frustration pushes tears to the rim of your eyes. 

“I can’t.” Your voice wavers like you’re about to choke a sob. “I just want to cum, Heeseung.”

You don’t see it, but he disconnects his video game connection without consulting his friends. He sits back in his seat and brings the phone off speaker mode and pushes it to his ear. “Y/N…Have you been touching yourself?”

“Yes. I don’t know why but I’m in this mental block and I can’t focus on anything. Nothing is helping.” 

He chokes. “What do you mean?”

“My vibrator is dead and I’ve been using three fingers but it’s not helping!” 

Heeseung sits quietly on the other line. “Are you touching yourself now?” 

“No,” you sigh. “I’ve been at it for an hour and I can’t finish.” 

“Fuck,” he mutters. “You must be so wet.” 

“Not anymore.” You say it through your teeth, too upset that your high has ebbed away.

“You should start touching yourself again.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Touch yourself and make your pussy all wet.” It’s concerning how much you like hearing your best friend talk to you like this. But you do, putting your phone on speaker and putting it on the mattress beneath you with your hand caressing your pussy. You don’t know if it’s you, Heeseung, or the notion that you’re crossing a bridge, but your spine starts to tingle. Your touch is as light as a feather.

“Are you doing it?” 

“Yeah,” you admit. 

“How does it feel?” 

“Really good…”

“How good?” 

“Feels like someone else is touching me,” you tell Heeseung. “If I close my eyes, I can pretend it’s someone else.”

“It’s not enough, is it?” 

“No, Hee. I just…I’m so frustrated.” 

“Yeah, baby?” He’ll address that nickname later. “Why are you frustrated?” 

“School and work are stressing me out and nobody in my group projects lifts a finger. I feel so alone in this.”

“But you aren’t alone. You have me, remember?” You get wetter the more he talks. It feels wrong to be turned on by Heeseung’s voice but you can't help it. He’s talking to you like he hears the way your voice quivers and how badly you need somebody to take away all of your pain, and perhaps you feel comforted because you know Heesueng will do just that and always had. Your fingers rub your wetness around your bare mound the more you think about it, pushing aside any guilt or awkwardness you initially felt.

“When have I ever not been there for you? Never, baby. Including this.” 

“This?” 

He chuckles. “Yeah. Helping you cum.” 

“Hee, don’t say that.” 

“Why? It’s true. Best friends help each other cum.” 

“How are you gonna help me do that?” 

It’s silent on the other line for a long pause and your heart starts to sink when you think you might’ve crossed a line. Is he uncomfortable? Does he want to hang up and forget about this? Will he ever look at you the same way after tonight? 

“Keep touching yourself. I’m coming over.” 

Your eyes widen. “N-Now?” 

“Yes, now. I live five minutes from you. I’ll be over soon.” 

The thought of Heeseung coming over makes you impossibly wet. It’s been so long since you’ve let anybody touch you the way you’d like after failed hook ups that left you unsatisfied. Your bedroom suddenly feels warmer and your arousal keeps your fingers slick the more you rub against your pussy. It makes your toes clench and you’re starting to get excited again. 

“Please hurry, Hee. My fingers are starting to get sore.” 

“I’ll be there in two. Don’t hang up.”

“F-Fuck,” you whimper silently. Heeseung’s phone picks up your moan and you hear him let out a low groan when he turns his engine on. 

“You have the sexiest moans. I wanna hear them while you get yourself off, okay? Can you do that for me?” 

You rub your pussy faster. “Yes, Hee. Fuck, I’m so wet. This feels so good.”

“Be a good baby and play with your clit a little for me, hm? Get her all nice and prepped.” 

You do as he says, moving the pads of your fingers in circular motions around your engorged nub when he tells you. Your eyes close shut when that jolt of pleasure makes your body jerk and arch off of the bed and that loud sound emitting from the back of your throat makes Heeseung hum in approval. 

“Juuust like that. Fuck, you sounds even better than I imagined. You’re a vocal one, huh?” 

“Only when it feels really good.”

“Yeah? Do you feel really good?” 

You lick your lips. “It would feel better if you were here.” Heeseung laughs. 

“I’m here and I’ve got your spare key. Keep fucking yourself for me.” 

The call ends there. You hear the door opening and part of you considers using your blanket to cover yourself up because in all of the years you’ve been friends with Heeseung, he has never seen you this indecent. It feels a bit humiliating to know your best friend will find you with your fingers rubbing against yourself while your hips chase that delicious pleasure but ultimately, you can’t find it in yourself to care too deeply about that. 

Heeseung’s footsteps alert you to his presence and you’re pleasantly surprised to see him standing in the threshold of your bedroom after he’s opened your doorknob. His black hair covers his eyes as he catches his breath, and it looks like he ran up the two floors just to get to your apartment quicker than an elevator could take him. He’s hesitant when he walks inside until his eyes lock with yours. Your next moan comes from deep within your chest and Heeseung wastes absolutely no time. 

He lands on his knees and pulls your body towards the edge of the bed. Your scent invades his olfactory senses as he looks down below you, pushing your feeble hand away to admire the mess you’ve made of yourself. It should feel embarrassing to have your best friend look at you like this, but it doesn’t. Your heart beats faster the more Heeseung’s eyes scan your wet pussy and before you know it, his mouth latches onto you. 

The feeling of someone’s tongue shoved deep within you is a feeling you haven’t experienced in a long time. Heeseung kneads your thighs with his hands as he keeps you in place and the pace he sets makes your body feel like it might as well be up in space. 

You hear stories all the time about Heeseung hooking up with other girls whether it be from himself or others. Girls love to pretend to be your friend to get close to him and love to talk about these kinds of things with you because they assume you’re getting in on the action too, only to leave the conversation perplexed when you tell them you and Heeseung have never gotten involved like that. But now, with every bit of information about how he slurps pussy like he needs it to live, you’re starting to wonder why you never asked him to do this before tonight. 

“Tasty,” he mutters after a beat of silence. Your hand comes to grip his hair for stability when he pulls your clit into his mouth and sucks on it while rubbing his tongue against your pleasure point. “How come you never told me you taste so good?”

“You never asked.” 

He laughs against your pussy. “Still got some attitude, huh?” 

“What are you gonna do about it?” He looks up at you like he’s weighing a challenge. 

“If you were any other girl, I’d pull out every time you’re about to cum. I’d have you begging for that shit. If you were somebody else, I’d stuff your mouth with my cock until you learn how to obey.” He licks up your pussy once more before adding two of his fingers inside, moaning at your smooth and wet walls as he pumps them inside of you. “But you’re my best friend and you’ve had a hard week. I’m gonna make you cum.” 

If a thousand suns exploding feels like Heeseung’s tongue and fingers working in tandem with each other, then this is a feeling you never want to forget. They work separately but it feels like he’s pushing you closer and closer to the finish line the more he pays attention to your clit and g-spot at the same time, pressing on that little button the more you whine and aimlessly beg for him to let you cum. You can barely register your own voice moaning because the pressure is too much against your ears. Heeseung’s fingers plunge in and out of you at a pace that is somewhere between gentle and brutal, giving you enough force to take your mind off of the stress from the week to focus on your pussy being pleasured. 

You screw your eyes shut when you can feel that coil unraveling. Heeseung seems to notice that too because of the string of moans you let out when he pushes his fingers against your sweet spot. His mouth licks and licks as his hand pushes your wetness right against his tongue and it doesn’t take very long for him to taste your cum. 

Heeseung’s head disappears between your legs and he’s barely able to move his hand because of how tight your thighs are against his ears. He’s always loved your thighs and legs, and loves them even more now that he knows what it feels like when you suffocate him as he licks up your delicious cum. You ease up on him when he pries them away to free his hand from the uncomfortable position and uses both hands to keep your legs apart as he licks up the remnants of your cum and helps you ride out your orgasm until your chest falls against the mattress. 

He wipes the back of his hands before giving your slit a gentle kiss. “You’re so sexy when you cum.”

“I can’t believe I let you do that.” 

“Why?” 

You watch him crawl up your body between your spread legs. “Because…” 

“Because?” 

“You’re my best friend and we’ve seen each other through everything. Don’t you think this is a little, I don’t know, weird?” 

“No.” Heeseung shakes his head and dips below to kiss the corner of your mouth. “Not weird. In fact, I’d argue we should do this more often.”

You frown. “I don’t intend to be somebody you keep on a roster, Lee. You can keep that shit to yourself, but thank you for helping me cum.” Heeseung laughs against your mouth until you feel his lips ghost right over yours. 

“There won’t be other girls involved if we fuck, Y/N. I’m not heartless like that. Everybody else knows I’m in it for sex and nothing else, but it’s like you said. You’re my best friend. I won’t make you feel like you’re just somebody I can hit up.” 

“So this would be like…friends with benefits?” 

“We can work out the semantics later.” He lets his lips touch yours and when you don’t object, Heeseung opens your mouth with his own and you taste the saltiness of your cum on his lips. You clench around nothing when you hear your mouths smacking together in the quiet of your bedroom. 

It feels…good. It doesn’t feel out of place, even though this is the first time you’ve kissed Heeseung. You haven’t thought about it much either, but somehow his lips fit perfectly in yours and his soft hands holding your body in his adds to your arousal. You feel safe with him at this moment and it’s the first time you’ve ever had sex with somebody who hasn’t made you feel like an afterthought. Your mind feels a bit foggy but you know you like this feeling and don’t want him to stop. Still, you have your worries.

“This won’t be weird, will it?” 

“No, baby. In fact, all you had to do was ask me to drop the other girls and I would’ve.” You roll your eyes. 

“Sounds like you’re in love with me, or something.” 

Heeseung pulls away and smiles down at you. “Yeah. Or something.” You ignore the way your heart flutters and realize his bulge is poking your bare pussy. 

“You’re hard.” 

“So you’ve noticed.” 

You pinch his bicep. “You get hard eating pussy?” 

“Well yeah because it’s pussy, but it’s also you.” You start to talk but Heeseung silences you with a kiss. “Are you satisfied now that I’ve made you cum?” 

His vulgar words make you shy underneath his gaze all of a sudden. It’s a new feeling and you’re not quite sure how to navigate it, especially with the way he’s staring down at you with a raised eyebrow. Heeseung is still your best friend who gives you shit for everything. You suppose you’re grateful that he’s not changing who he is just because he knows what you look like naked. 

“You know what? Actually, I don’t think I’m satisfied.” 

Heeseung grins wickedly and pulls his body off of your chest to take his shirt off, his chiseled muscles on display for you to look at. He grabs your hand and places it on his abdomen. “Oh yeah? What else can I do for you, princess?”

You take your fingernails on his skin and feel his abs move beneath you. “I think I need you inside me too.”

“Were my mouth and fingers not enough?” You shake your head. Heeseung tuts as he gets off of the bed to step out of his pants and boxers, revealing a long and thick cock you’ve only ever heard about. It’s dripping with precum and you can’t stop your pussy from clenching or your mouth from drooling. 

You watch him get back on the bed one knee at a time before he’s hovering over you again, pulling your body to the position he wants as your legs spread before him. He looks down at his cock and tugs on it twice before letting his tip rest against your clit. 

“Need some of my cock?” 

“Yes, yes!”

“Who knew my best friend has such a tight pussy. Makes me wonder why I even bothered with other girls in the first place.” You seem to like hearing that. He brings his fingers to push the head of his cock inside of you before sinking halfway in, allowing you to adjust to his size as you squeeze him. “Oh yeah, honey. This pussy’s gonna make me cum hard, I already know that.” 

Heeseung holds your legs open and pushes his hips into you slowly. The drag feels so good with how warm he’s made you and you can feel him throbbing with every pass. You hold onto your breasts for stability, which seems to turn him on even more because he’s pushing your legs towards your chest and pushing into you with all of his might. 

You’re able to see him from where you lie. His eyebrows concentrate as he squeezes his eyes shut and sweat lines his forehead the more he thrusts inside of you. He sits up on his knees to angle his dick inside of you better and moans when you let out a strangled groan. The clench is so tight and amazing, and Heeseung can’t fathom why he’s never fucked you before tonight. 

“Sexy pussy,” he grunts, looking down at your abused hole as he thrusts into it. He brings his thumb to your clit and you yelp when he starts to rub it. “So wet and fuckable.” 

“Fuck me,” you manage to choke. 

And truthfully, you like Heeseung plowing into you at the pace he’s set. He’s not too fast but not too slow and you can feel him hit your cervix every single time. It’s no wonder girls were always lining up to have sex with him. Heeseung knows what he’s doing with his dick and you’re finding that out now. 

“You want me to fuck you?”

You nod pathetically. “Please fuck me.”

“How hard?” You bite your lip and shake your head at the humiliation of begging for him but Heeseung tuts and smacks your clit with his hand. “I said, how hard?”

“So hard that I feel you in my stomach!”

“Atta girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Heeseung slips out of you and pulls you up on your hands and knees, beckoning your back in a deep arch. He plants both of his feet on the mattress and bends until he’s sinking his cock back down inside of your pussy, letting your mixed wetness coat him again. 

He thrusts himself as his mouth hangs open. Heeseung grips your waist with both hands and squeezes you hard to balance himself as he throws his head back at the phenomenal sensation of your walls pulling him in every time he tries to pull out. Your eyes roll to the back of your head when you feel his balls against you and clutch into your bedsheets.

“Your balls are slapping against my pussy and it feels really good,” you manage to get out without stuttering. Heeseung feels you clench around him again and emphasizes his thrusts until the sound of his balls makes your ears vibrate. 

“Feels good when it hits your clit, doesn’t it?”

“So good, fuck!” 

Heeseung speeds his thrusts and relishes in your string of moans the more his tip nudges your g-spot. “Can you cum, baby? Cum around my cock like I know you want to. You’ve earned it after this week. Cum for me. Won’t you let me feel that?”

“Fuck, fuck, I’m cumming, Hee! I’m fucking cumming!”

“Yeahhh. Oh your cum is so good. Doing so well, making your pussy creamy all over me like that. Cum for me.”

And it feels so good that you follow his command. The orgasm Heeseung’s cock brings you feels like a physical manifestation of letting go of your worries and enjoying the present moment. Despite your legs and pussy aching, this feels an awful lot like freedom because your own mind isn’t caged by the inability to get yourself off. 

You don’t think, you can’t think. You’ve reached a point of nirvana that’s made your mind completely blank with the exception of your orgasm and the feeling of your best friend fucking right inside of you. His cock, so hard and warm, somehow feels so perfect lodged inside of you. 

Heeseung cock twitches and you feel it the more he pounds into you. He looks down and moans at the sight of his cock becoming white with your cum with every pointed thrust and doesn’t remember the last time he truly enjoyed himself to the point of being able to forget about everything except the person he’s with. Sex with other girls is incredible but there comes a point where he realizes that they’re using him just as much as he’s using them. But you, his best friend since he can remember, give him some kind of peace that he’s never felt before. This is more than just a quick fuck, even if neither of you address it.

“Your pussy’s gonna make me cum,” he moans through a choked grunt. “You feel so good baby, fuck.” 

Heeseung pulls out of your hole just enough to rest his tip against you. His warm cum floods against your folds and your body jerks at the way he twitches against you, but his hands keep hold of your hips to place you exactly where he wants you. He looks down to watch his cum spill from his slit and paint your pussy like the artwork that it is.

When he’s finished cumming, Heeseung leans back against his knees to spread you apart by gripping your asscheeks. “Would you look at that?” 

“Stop looking…”

He chuckles. “Why, baby? Your pussy’s so pretty with my cum on it.” 

You look back at him. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah.” He nods at you before pulling away to scour your room until he finds a box of tissues on your nightstand and grabs a few to clean you up to the best of his ability before cleaning himself up too. 

Overcome with a wave of tiredness, your body feels much more relaxed once you’ve slipped underneath the covers as Heeseung throws away the dirty tissues. He turns around when he hears the blankets ruffling and resists the urge to coo at you when you’ve tucked it underneath your chin. 

“Looks like you needed one good fuck to relax, hm?”

You blush. “Shut up.”

“No can do, Y/N.”

“I…”

Heeseung leans down towards you and tilts his head. “You what?”

You avert his gaze. “I liked it when you called me baby.” 

“Yeah?” He pushes some of your hair back as you yawn. “I can do that.” 

“Are you gonna go home?”

“Not if you let me stay the night.” You don't have it in you to talk back to him after all he’s done for you. Instead, you open the covers as Heeseung puts his boxers back on and watch him smile before climbing in next to you. “Come here.” He tucks your body on his chest and you’re too tired to argue with him. 

His heartbeat puts you to sleep.

tagging: @zara2318 @markmato @heechwe @horijiro @ggumjilgeong-yjn @porunarefuu @leov3rse. :)

[jarofstyles]

Merlot

Hello my lovely ducklings. I promised a good age gap DILF sorta thing and I’m here to hand ‘em over. He’s getting some silver at the temples and she’s loving every second of it. Let me know what you think 🍷

Check out our Patreon for early access to the second part and 200+ exclusive writings

WC- 8k

Warnings- age gap, dilfrry, smut, oral (m + f receiving) unprotected sex (please wrap it up irl), exhibitionism, daddy kink if you squint, and all the fun stuff.

“I hate to ask this cliche question, and it absolutely pains me to ask in such an uncouth way- but do you come here often?” Peeking over the rim of the glass, amber liquid brushed his top lip and the ice cubs clanked as the smoky liquor hit his tongue.

God knew what he was doing- the girl in front of him looked too young for him, but she had struck up the conversation first. Commenting on his silver lion’s head ring and asking where he’d gotten it, wide eyed and eager as she looked up at him with that pretty pout and mascara coated lashes. Perhaps it was the crippling loneliness of divorce, maybe it was the hint of a buzz of his second drink, or even a hint of desperation that had him continuing the conversation with the younger woman as she took the bar stool in front of him- but she seemed receptive. Leaning into the conversation and keeping eye contact, she played into him.

"Cliches can be cute sometimes." She laughed as she placed her own glass down, now empty. "I don't, no. I'm not one for the whole going out thing. Not anymore. I was in uni, but I think as soon as you graduate they take away your tolerance card." Rolling her eyes playfully she felt a lick of satisfaction in getting a chuckle out of him. "And what about you? Do you like to come to bars with overpriced drinks to talk to random people who decide to invade your bubble to ask where your pretty jewelry is from?"

"Well, I can't say I make a habit of it, but sometimes a man needs to escape the responsibilities of reality- and as much as I adore my pets, I think they’re tiring of hearing my voice.” He shook his head as he flexed his fingers, looking back down at the conversation starter. Pretty eyes met his own. It had been so long since he felt flustered but she had done a pretty good job at making him feel a little off kilter in the best way. A break from the mundane.

“I’ll have to agree with you on them revoking your tolerance once you exit uni. Though I will say it’s a blessing in disguise. I wasn’t terribly into partying in my last year, considering I’d started getting awful hangovers. Almost like s’bad for you, or something.” He teased, leaning against the bar top. It was clear that they’d shifted closer to each other through their conversation and he tried to not get his hopes up, but he sort of did feel like she was giving him… those sort of eyes. “I don’t want to keep you from your friends, though.”

“You’re not.” She said simply, looking up at him. Usually, facial hair wasn’t something she considered much at all. Not many around her wore it, but she had to say the longer she looked at him, the more she liked it. It was just… masculine. Rugged, in a way, but he kept it groomed. This man was interesting all around, with pretty rings and a deep raspy voice, seafoam eyes and a little tiny gray streak starting near his temple. God, that was hot. “I’m plenty happy talking to you.”

His heart skipped a beat as she looked up at him, those eyes sparkling with something he hoped was interest, but at the very least looked like genuine intrigue. Nothing about their encounter led to her feeling otherwise. It was a nice change, feeling the ease of a conversation flow even if he stumbled on words when he accidentally looked down at her lips.

Fuck it.

He reached out, gently brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her cheek. "I’m glad t’hear that. You're very easy to talk to." he said, his voice low and warm. The risk was there, initiating a bit of touch, but he had fo test to waters. See where this was headed. Was she looking for a safe haven? A reliable guy who didn’t look like a creep (hopefully), someone to buy her drinks as she pitied the older man at the bar, or… was this headed the direction the heat in his belly desperately wanted.

“Am I?” Her head tilted slightly, smile slightly shy but making no effort to move from where his fingers hovered slightly. “I do get told I have problems knowing when to shut up and let things be quiet, so I suppose that tracks. It can be nice in conversations.” Especially when he had seemed slightly apprehensive of her at first and now warmed up. “You’ve got a nice voice. It’s nice to talk to you.”

"Well, I suppose we'll just have to keep talking, then." He said softly, his voice growing even warmer as he leaned in closer, his eyes flicking back down to her lips briefly before returning to her eyes.

“I agree.”

Y/N could be considered bold at times, but she liked that he was showing some effort- some interest. It was give and take, push and pull, a fun little game as she was given a perfect chance when someone else approached the bar top from behind Harry. “Oop- come ‘ere.’ She laughed, gently tugging him in as her ankle hooked around the back of his knee to tug him into her. “Someone’s tryn’ to make an order.”

Now he was closer than she had anticipated, stood between her thighs as she sat on the barstool with her leg wrapped around his. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to get in your space.” The girl could feel his body heat. Fuck, he smelled so good. None of that… the familiar cheap colognes and aftershaves she was used to, not was it overpowering. Harry smelled expensive and spicy with some sort of leathery vanilla and she had to wonder what it was. "You smell really good..."

"No, no, it's fine..." He said softly, his voice trailing off as he looked down at her, their faces inches apart. He didn't move away, instead, he leaned in even closer, his hand resting on her knee. “Thank you.” The heat felt a little overwhelming in his cheeks. Pathetic to be a grown man blushing over such a simple compliment but he was so close to her now, body head radiating off of her and she smelled equally as good. “Um, so do you.”

He breathed in deeply, taking in her scent. It was a unique blend of floral notes, with a hint of citrus and a sweet, vanilla-like undertone. It was feminine, youthful, and intoxicating. Sweet and fresh. It didn’t choke him in floral and musk like the women who had been after him since his signature had barely dried on his divorce papers, but something that he vaguely remembered from his own days around her age. Perhaps that was a sign he should back off, but he couldn’t. He felt himself getting lost in the scent, his head spinning slightly as he continued to breathe her in.

His hand on her knee nearly burned but she relished in the feeling, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she smiled slightly at him. It was her first time attempting something like this. Older men were always a thing for her, a desire, but never one she felt bold enough to go for. Now, though, she wondered why she had waited. The feeling in her stomach and the delicate way she felt under his touch was something that had her nearly giddy.

“I like the mustache.” She pointed to it. “It’s a mature look. In a good way.” Of course she didn’t want to offend him, make him feel like she was calling him old. “Guys I’m around usually can’t pull it off. But you do.” Braving a touch, she let her fingers run over his jaw and felt a slight bit of scruff. “Are y’gonna go for a full beard? Or no?”

"Maybe..." Harry murmured, leaning into her touch. "Depends on how well it's received..." The joke was cracked softly, his eyes fluttering closed briefly as she touched his face. He let his hand slide a little higher up on her thigh, squeezing gently. "Thank you for the compliment though. Was hoping it wouldn’t be a bad thing cause I noticed y’looking at it.”

“Mm, I was. It’s nice.” Sexy. Her eyes felt heavy as she watched his lips curl in a slight smile. “ I’m assuming that there’s no missus at home?” She asked lightly. “You don’t seem like a cheater, Harry.” It was a tease, but he didn’t wear a ring on his ring finger. Usually she never gave men the benefit of the doubt but selfishly, she wanted to be right so she wouldn’t feel guilty about imagining her inner thighs raw from beard burn later tonight.

"No missus." He confirmed, his thumb rubbing small circles on her thigh as he opened his eyes to look at her. "Just me, and the office. I've been too busy to think about dating, let alone finding someone serious." He admitted honestly, his gaze lingering on her face. "I mean, I was married. Briefly." He said, his expression growing slightly somber. "But that's over now. It didn't work out." He shrugged, trying to downplay it, even though the divorce had been messy and painful. "What about you? Boyfriend at home?"

“I’m sorry it didn’t work out.” She frowned. It wasn’t something she’d pry on because she could see it bothered him a bit, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. Nor that she didn’t feel bad. “I’m single, thank god. My last boyfriend was a complete prick.” Her nose wrinkled in disgust. “Cheated on me a few times on a boys holiday. Was stupid enough to post with other girls and think people wouldn’t send it to me just because he hid stories from me. but it was a relief, anyways.” It sounded cold, callous maybe, but it was the truth. “It’s just me now as I figure out what to do.”’

"He sounds like an idiot." He grumbled, his hand tightening lightly on her thigh. "You're too good for that." He paused, his eyes flicking over her features. "What do you mean, figure out what to do? Like, with life?"

“Yeah. Career wise mostly. I think I want to do writing but it’s been hard to tell lately. I do that part time and then work at a cafe as a waitress and pick up shifts when I need the money. I’m tired all the time so it’s taking me longer to simply sit down and figure out 100% what I want to do but, that’s life.” She shrugged. “So I get suckered into going out to bars with my coworkers and getting a buzz so I go up to a handsome man and demand to know where his ring is from, so it suppose it isn’t all bad.”

"Writing, huh?" There was intrigue in his voice as he took in her answer. The compliment wasn’t lost on him, and it fueled that bolder part of him that wanted to break out. "Like, books, or journalism? I happen to be in publishing, so if that’s something you’d like to walk about we can…." He trailed off, his thumb continuing to rub soothing patterns on her thigh. "It’s not the easiest thing to break into but you’ve got a lot going for you. I’d be willing to help you if you feel ready.” . That was a genuine offer, regardless if he got laid… but he still felt that the way she was looking at him had an undertone

"You should come by my office sometime, if you want." He offered, his voice low. "I mean, if you're interested in publishing. We could... talk shop. Or something." He added, his hand slowly creeping higher up her thigh as he spoke.

“Or something?” She grinned widely. “Are you making a pass at me, handsome stranger Harry?” Her fingers stroked down his jaw towards his neck, messing with the collar of his shirt.

"I mean, m’being serious about helping you but… Maybe a bit of flirting is happening." He whispered, tilting his head to the side to give her better access. "I mean, you did ask where my ring was..." He pointed out softly, his hand now resting high up on her thigh, fingers spread wide, said ring gleaming in the low light. "And I haven't exactly been getting much action since the divorce..."

Eyes fell down to his hand and back up to his face, ever so slightly spreading her legs more to allow him to step closer between them. The heel of her shoe gently ran over his calf, biting lightly on her lower lip as she tried to keep the smile off her face. “And is that the only thing you want from me?”

Harry's breath hitched as she spread her legs, his heart racing at the subtle gesture. His hand tightened ever so slightly on her thigh, his fingers digging in just a bit as he leaned in closer. "No," He admitted quietly, his voice husky. "But it's a good start."

“Tell me.” She slipped her hand down to let them curl into the fabric of his shirt. “I’ve never been with an older man before, Harry. Are you all just as shitty as the younger ones? Or are you better?”

Harry's eyes darkened as she slipped her hand under his shirt, the rough pad of her fingers against his skin making him shiver. "I'm better." He said confidently, his voice deep and rumbling. "I know what I want, and I know how to treat a woman."

The man’s hand tightened on her flesh as she let out a breathy sigh, his eyes never leaving hers. "With respect," He said simply. "With kindness and attention. I open doors, I pull out chairs, I make sure they're comfortable and cared for. And in bed…" There was a pause, a slight smirk on his face as he averted his gaze for a single moment.

“In bed?” She echoed, looking up at him expectantly. “Don’t keep me on edge here. I’m dying to know.”

Harry smirked at her, his hand moving higher up her thigh, stopping right at the hem of her panties. His knuckles could feel how humid she was, no denying she was wet. It was hard to keep focused, but he had to. "Well, Y/N… I make sure they're satisfied," He said, his voice low and sultry. "I take my time, I pay attention to their body, I explore and learn what makes them tick."

“So you won’t just cum and roll over and fall asleep?” She hummed, her other hand running under his blazer and over his back. “Because I’m real tired of giving it my all and barely getting a subpar orgasm out of it. It’s why I was trying to be celibate for a while…”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Not on my watch," He said, his thumb brushing against her panties. "I'll make sure you're thoroughly satisfied, multiple times if needed. I'll hold you close, kiss you, tell you how beautiful you are, while I make love to you."

“Ooo… he makes love..” She cooed, giggling lightly before leaning into whisper the next words to him. Was this an older man thing? Or a literature person sort of thing? Waxing poetically about the things he could provide, it all sounded amazing. But she had to know. “But can you fuck? Can you make me feel it for days, bruise my ass, get me so wet I ruin your sheets?”

Harry groaned quietly her words, his thumb pressing against her panties, feeling how soaked they were. "Fuck, yes." He growled under his breath, his other hand reaching up to cup her cheek. "I can be rough, I can be gentle, I can do whatever the hell you want. All y’have to do is ask."

Y/N let out a shuddering breath as his thumb brushed over her clit through her panties, looking to the side as she attempted to see if anyone was paying attention- but considering how crowded it was tonight, no one was paying them much mind. “So you’ll take me back to your place and make me cum? That’s what I want.”

Harry nodded, his thumb rubbing against her. "Yeah, sweetheart, I'll take you back to my place and make you cum so hard you'll see stars. And then I'll keep going, as long as you want, until you can't take it anymore."

“God.” The girl’s head rolled toward and thumped on his shoulder, feeling him chuckle as he rolled his thumb over her swollen clit. The lacy scrap of material she considered panties did little to hide how slick she was, the older man having plenty of fun playing with her as she turned her head and nipped her teeth into his throat.

Harry let out a low hiss at the sharp little bite, his hand still pressing against her clit through her panties. He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out his phone, quickly typing out a text message before putting it back in his pocket.

“W-What are you doing?” She murmured, slowly pressing her lips to his skin and staining it with her lipstick. He was casual about playing with her, acting like stroking her clit was second nature as his other hand adjusted the straps of her dress back up from where they’d begun to droop.

Harry smirked as she inquired, his thumb still making small circles against her clit. He leaned in closer to her ear and whispered, "I'm sending a message to my housekeeper, to make sure the bed is prepared for when we get back to my place."

“God, M’gonna suck your dick so good.” She sighed, a tipsy giggle leaving her throat. “It’s big. I knew it was when I came over here but… shit, I’m gonna feel it for days.”

Harry grinned as she grumbled against his neck, his hand leaving her panties to grip her hip possessively. "You're going to love it, baby. I'm going to stretch your little mouth wide, and you're going to take every inch like a good girl." He crooned low in his throat. “But you need to get that pretty ass up and come t’the car with me. My driver is here.”

——-

Y/N let out a squeal of delight as Harry tossed her into his bed. His Californian King with a canopy, four postered, hand craved fucking bed frame, his shirt unbuttoned, belt undone and jacket on the floor. Her dress was over her hips and she wasn’t sure exactly how they’d gotten here, but what she was sure of was the fact that she really did like kissing him. “Kiss me.” She demanded, grabbing his scruffy face as he crawled up the bed and hovered over top of her.

Harry chuckled at her demanding tone, his mustache brushing against her lips as he obliged her request. He kissed her deeply, his hand wrapping around her jaw to pull her close. As they made out, he let go only momentarily to reach down and grab her dress, yanking it up over her head and tossing it carelessly aside.

That left her in just the pathetic excuse of lace panties, as she had forgone the bra for the sake of the dress, and there was no complaints on his end. Her hand pushed at the shoulder of his shirt, trying to get it off of him. “Want you closer.” She mumbled, leaning into him with a mewl as he pulled back to do as she asked. It was erotic and hot and she was surprised by the amount of tattoos he had, but god, did she want to see more of him.

Harry grinned, feeling her warm hands pushing at his shirt. He lifted his arms, allowing her to pull it off of him. His tattoos were extensive, covering most of his arms, chest, and back. Inquisitive hands ran over her sides, marveling at her form compared to his own build.

The man bent down and started to place kisses along her collarbone and up her neck. His rough hands squeezed her sides gently, thumbs brushing along her ribs. He continued to kiss and nibble at her neck, his facial hair tickling her sensitive skin. He whispered, "Wrap your legs around my waist, baby."

She did as asked, eyes fluttering shut as she could feel him through his trousers. Of course, she’d been right. The man’s cock was big like she had expected, and it was thick. Throbbing against her through the fabric, her mouth watered slightly as she rubbed herself against him, fingers finding his hair as he made his way down her throat. “Fuck, it’s been so long.” The slight scratching of the facial hair only made her feel more sensitive, like she was on a live wire. It was decided that she definitely liked it now.

Harry groaned at her words, the sound coming out more like a rumble from his chest. He continued to kiss and nip at her throat as she ground herself against him. His hands squeezed and gripped her ass, encouraging her movements. "God, you feel so damn good, and m’not even inside you yet."

Harry paused for a moment, looking up at her with a heated gaze. "You're so precious, so sweet... I've never been with anyone like you before." His voice was gruff, filled with desire. He ran his hands up her sides, marveling at her smooth skin. The curves, the indents, all of it was new and exciting.

“No?” She asked softly. “I’ve never been with an older man either. Kinda like it.” There was no hesitation in admitting it. “Was your ex wife not good to you, Harry?”

Harry's expression darkened briefly at the mention of his ex-wife. "She wasn't... attentive. And she certainly never looked at me the way you are now." He buried his face in her neck once more, kissing and nuzzling her skin.

“No?” It was astounding. “I don’t know how. If I had a man like you…” She let out a breathy laugh. “You’d have to pry me off of you. you are so attractive, so sweet… Can’t imagine why she wouldn’t be all over you, all the time.” It wasn’t something she could really understand. She barely knew the guy but she liked what she saw, and she liked it a lot.

Harry's heart swelled with pride at her words. He felt his ego growing a bit, having this beautiful young woman fawn over him. "I think she was always more interested in the status and prestige that came with being married to me, rather than actually being in love with me." It wasn’t something he liked to think about but in this instance he felt okay with it. If it hadn't ended, he wouldn’t end up here.

His lips continued to kiss and caress Y/N, his hands roaming over her curves almost in awe of what he had his hands on. It wasn’t what he had expected. People watching at the bar was his goal, really. He had one night stands a few times but he didn’t necessarily want this to be a one time sorta of thing. Not when she smelled this good and her lips tasted like cherry wine. He wanted to know what books she liked just as much as he wanted to know how she looked when she came. "But now I have you in my bed, and you're looking at me like I'm the most desirable man you've ever seen, so I think m’doing okay." He crooned, nipping at her neck.

“Because you are.” The girl purred. “All man and power in the best way. Not socially, but in what you are. You exude it.” Her cunt rubbed against him, making her eyes lull. “I knew you’d have a big dick. Knew it just walking up, how you stood. I wanted it inside of me.”

Harry let out a low chuckle, his voice a deep rumble. "Is that right? You wanted me inside you from the moment you saw me?" His hands gripped her backside firmly, spreading her cheeks as she ground against him. "Well, you're going to get it, baby."

“Mmm… I want it now.”

Y/N nearly whimpered as he pulled away but quickly shut up as she watched him stand up, hands working the button of his trousers. It took her seconds to lift up and get on her knees in front of him, shooing his hands away to take over. it had been months since she’d given head and while she wasn’t a normal lover of it, she had been dying to get her hands on him.

Harry watched with heavy-lidded eyes as she pushed his hands away and undid his pants herself. He bit his lower lip as she slowly revealed what she'd been craving. "You don't have to do that, baby." He said hoarsely, knowing full well that he wanted her to- but he wouldn’t make her. It would be more than okay if he focused on her. He got off on giving, and that’s what he focused on.

“Need to.” She gave him a look as she slowly tugged the zipper down, guiding his trousers down before palming him over his briefs. “Fuck, I’m gonna be full of this.”

Harry let out a low moan at her grip and the words that followed. The image of her full and well used was enough to send any red-blooded man to their knees, but he just stood there in front of her, letting her take control, letting her give him pleasure. He watched as she pulled his boxers down, freeing his length. His hands moved to cup the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair. He could see the lust in her gaze, and he couldn’t help but sigh again at the sight of her.

His thick, veined shaft jutted out proudly from a trimmed thatch of dark hair. The head was a dark, angry red and already glistening with precome. The older man let out a sharp breath as she wrapped her fingers around his shaft, slowly starting to stroke him. He watched intently as she gripped his cock, sliding it over the sensitive length, causing it to pulse in her grip.

A shiver of pleasure ran down her spine as she watched his control come undone. Her eyes were locked onto him, watching his cock pulse and throb in her hand. She could feel it grow harder with each stroke, leaning herself down and sticking out her tongue for a taste.

The sensation of her tapping tongue against the tip of his cock made him shudder, watching the precum string from his slit to the pad of her pink tongue. He looked down at her, seeing the hot promise in her eyes- this was going to be good and he knew it. She slowly began to slide the head of his cock back and forth between her lips, teasing it with her tongue.

Y/N wasn’t one to call any cock pretty, but she would dare to say it for him. Harry’s cock was appealing in the way most others hadn’t been. Maybe part of it was her overwhelming attraction to him in general, but she felt even more eager to make him feel good than she had with anyone else in the past. “I want to take it in my throat. I can do it, I promise. Jus’ need your help.” Her plea was finished with a kiss to the tip before opening her mouth, looking up at him to let him take over.

He guided her head forward gently, encouraging her to take more of him into her mouth. "Relax your jaw, baby, you can take it." He coaxed softly, his voice laced with desire. As Y/N did as he asked, Harry felt his cock slide deeper into her warm, wet mouth. Her lips stretched around his girth, pushing in slowly before he felt the tip of his cock hitting the back of her throat. He could feel her nose pressing against his pubic bone as she struggled to take him all in. “Shh, sweetheart. Just gotta get it wet for me, show me what you can do.”

He held her head steady, his hands gently gripping her hair as he started to slowly thrust his hips. The sound of his thick cock sliding in and out of her mouth filled the room, along with the occasional gagging noise as she struggled to accommodate his size.

"You're doing so well, baby," Harry praised, his voice low and gravelly. "Look at you, takin’ it like a good girl. You're gonna make me come so hard today, aren’t you, sweetheart? Just like that, that's it- relax that throat for me..."

As Harry continued to talk to her, his sweet words and praise, Y/N's eyes began to water from the effort of taking him so deep. She gagged a few times, her hands coming up to his thighs for support, but she refused to pull away for longer than a few seconds to catch her breath.

Her cheeks hollowed and her jaw ached, but she was determined to take him all in. Harry's hands moved to the back of her head, fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer, fucking her mouth with more urgency. "That's it, baby. You're making me so hard... S’been so long... Been ages since anyone’s made me feel like this..." Harry's voice trailed off into a low moan as Y/N finally managed to take him all in, her nose pressing against his lower abdomen. “Tha’s it, right there- fucks sake.”

Harry's hips began to thrust involuntarily, fucking her mouth with shallow pumps as he held the back of her head, still buried deep in her throat. He released the grip, trying to urge her off- but she didn’t want to. "Fuck... you’ve got t’pull off, sweetheart..." he groaned, his breathing heavy and erratic. “Need t’fuck you.” Y/N whimpered around his thickness, her eyes watering as she shook her head slightly, indicating that she wasn't ready to give up yet. She wanted to taste him, to drink him down like he had with her. Harry's grip tightened in her hair, his voice strained.

"Babe...you've gotta-you've got to... please," Harry begged, his voice cracking as she continued to suck him off, her head bobbing and nose brushing his thatch of hair, making his eyes clench shut. "If you don't stop now, M’gonna, fuck...I'm gonna cum in your mouth..."

Y/N whimpered, her hands gripping his thighs tightly as she continued to suck him enthusiastically, eager to taste him. Harry's breathing became rapid and shallow, his fingers tightening in her hair as he struggled to hold back. "Y/N, last chance...I'm-"

The girl moaned as she felt him stiffen, his hips bucking forward as he finally gave in and let go, filling her mouth with his warm release. Watching his face fall in ecstasy, it was going to be worth the soreness tomorrow. She struggled to swallow it all, some of it dripping out of her mouth and down her chin. Harry's knuckles were white from gripping her hair so tightly, his body trembling as he came deep in her mouth. The sight of her swallowing him down was almost too much for him to handle, and he had to close his eyes and focus on not passing out. It truly had been a long fucking time.

As Harry finished cumming, Y/N eagerly cleaned his sensitive prick with her tongue, licking and sucking until he was completely clean. She ran her tongue along the veins and underneath the head, making him shudder and pull back. "Too sensitive...God, you're so good at that." he praised breathlessly. There was slight disbelief in there too, a slight tingling in his thighs as he looked at her as she pressed sloppy kisses to his hip bone. Mascara smeared under her eyes and lipstick a faded smeared mess, he wondered how he had gotten this lucky.

Harry needed a moment to catch his breath, his heart still racing from the intense orgasm. He looked down at Y/N, her messy appearance only making her more adorable to him. "You know what would be perfect right now?" he asked, his voice still shaking slightly.

“What?” Her voice croaked, feeling his thumb brushed away some of the tears on her cheek that had fallen from the gagging.

"Letting me get a taste of that pussy I've been fantasizing about." Harry suggested, his eyes still lingering on her messy and sated appearance as he pulled her up and pushed her to lay back down on the bed. “S’my turn now. Spread those perfect legs and let me see that cunt.”

Y/N obediently spread her legs wide, letting Harry see her dripping wet pussy. He let out a low groan at the sight as he got on his knees, his thumbs spreading her lips apart to reveal her slick folds. He buried his face between her thighs, inhaling her scent deeply before diving in and licking her from asshole to clit. There was no wasting any time or pretending to be shy about a single thing.

A started squeak left her mouth as her head popped up, hands gripping his head as he dove right in with little hesitation. Harry hadn’t seemed like the type to have any reservations in taking what he wanted, and it was being proven by how his tongue slid over her most sensitive parts.

He continued to eat her out with reckless abandon, his tongue fucking her pussy as if it belonged to him. Her breathing was heavy as he sucked on her clit, nibbling at it gently before returning to lap at her folds. His hands gripped her ass, spreading her cheeks wide to give himself better access to her tight hole. He wanted to have it all. “S’this okay, baby?”

“Uh-huh.” Y/N hadn’t really had anyone touch her there before but she couldn’t say she hadn’t been curious and self explored. It was always something she wanted to play around with and it felt exciting, handing herself over to the man like that.

Harry grinned mischievously against her wet flesh, his hands spreading her wider as he buried his face deeper. He pushed his thumb against her hole, slowly sliding it inside as he continued to lap at her cunt. “You taste so good, sweetheart...” he murmured, his voice muffled by her flesh.

He added a second finger to her ass, scissoring them apart slowly as he tongue fucked her pussy. Y/N's legs started to shake as the dual stimulation became too much. She gripped his hair tightly, her back arching off the bed as she let out a high pitched whine. "Ah!"

Y/N's fingers tightened painfully in Harry's hair, her knuckles turning pale as she tried to stay grounded while the pleasure consumed her. His tongue was spearing into her soaking wet hole over and over, curling up to rub against that spot inside her that made her see stars. And his fingers… god, those hands.

His fingers were stretching her asshole, pushing past the initial resistance and sinking deep into her tight heat. He scissored them further apart, popping her open wider as he fingered her ass. Y/N's legs shook violently, her whole body trembling as she felt herself on the verge of a massive orgasm.

"Harry...it's...too- please..." She babbled, unable to form a full sentence as he continued to stuff her holes. It had never been like this before, no one had even come close. He ignored her pleas, instead burying his face deeper and pumping his fingers faster. She felt so stuffed, so full, the pressure mounting inside her unbearably.

He felt her whole body stiffen, her pussy fluttering on his tongue as she cried out. She gushed against his mouth as she came, the feeling so intense and overwhelming that the waves of pleasure forced her to collapse against him.

Harry worked her through it as she trembled and whimpered with pleasure, his fingers still buried in her ass and his tongue still buried in her pussy. He felt a sense of pride and accomplishment, knowing that he'd reduced this beautiful young woman to a whimpering, shaking mess. It was not only an ego boost from what had been lacking for a while now, but he liked seeing how she reacted to him. He alone had done it.

Harry slowly lifted his head, wiping her from his face as he grinned wickedly at Y/N. "You taste even better when you're coming apart for me, sweetheart." He brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking them clean while maintaining eye contact with her. "And you’re tight everywhere, hm?”

Y/N stared at Harry, her eyes glazed over and pupils dilated from the intense high she was still riding down from. Her mouth was slightly parted, breath hitching as she watched him clean her off his hands. A soft blush spread across her cheeks, embarrassed yet turned on by his bold actions.

"H-Harry...that was...I've never...I mean...no one's ever..." She stammered, unable to form a coherent sentence even still.

He chuckled darkly, enjoying how flustered she was. "No one's ever played with your pretty little hole before?"

“No.” Her face felt hot as he grinned up at her. He seemed more than pleased and it made her feel good to know he was happy but still, she had the slight embarrassment that only came with the territory.

"Well, consider that box checked then." He said smugly, crawling back up her body to kiss her passionately. She could taste herself on his lips and tongue, the musky flavor a testament to what he'd just done to her.

He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head as he continued to ravage her mouth. She mewled into the kiss, arching up against him as she felt his hard length pressing into her stomach. "Does my pretty girl want more?"

“Mhm.” She nipped his lip. “Want you inside of me.” Was she still sensitive from her orgasm? yes. But she had been desperate to get him inside of her since she’d first spoken to him. “Do you- are you clean?”

He pulled back slightly, his breath hot against her cheek. "I'm always clean, sweetheart. I get checked regularly and I'm very particular about who I share my dick with." He gave her wrists a gentle squeeze before releasing them, reaching over to his pants to his back pocket to grab his wallet.

“I-“ Her hand reached for his wrist. “I don’t wanna use one.” The words laid in the humid air for a moment. It was risky, sure, as any sort of unprotected anything was, but she didn’t want anything in between them. “I want t’feel you inside of me…”

He groaned at her words, his eyes darkening with desire. "Christ, doll. You're gonna be the death of me." Leaning down to kiss her again, his tongue traced over her bottom lip before slipping inside her mouth. He took his time, savoring every inch of her. His lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear, causing her to shiver in anticipation. His hands made their way under her hair, feeling the warmth of her skin.

“Can I push in, baby?” He asked with a low tone, his lips tracing her collarbone. At her nod, he wasted little time. Poor thing hadn’t been fucked right before, and he would happily give her a proper experience. Reaching down between them, he positioned himself at her entrance. With one slow thrust, he entered her fully, feeling the warmth and tightness of her around him. His eyes rolled back in pleasure, as he buried the tip inside of her. “Fuck, thank you.”

He groaned as he pushed into her, feeling the way her body welcomed him. He paused for a moment, giving her time to adjust and letting himself feel the depth of her wet heat around him. His hands reached up to cup her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her nipples.

Being with a younger woman was different for him, but maybe it was just her- he realized as he moved inside of her. It was like being with a whole new sense of being, one who was full of energy and life. Everything about her was so fresh and vibrant, from her tight little pussy to her perfect tits and gorgeous face.

He continued to thrust into her, feeling the way her walls tightened around him. His hands moved down from her breasts, over her soft stomach and to her hips, exploring whenever he could.

His movements were slower, each thrust deliberate and measured. He wanted to savor the feel of her, the way her body yielded to his. He was drawn to watch her face, loving the way her eyes fluttered shut and her mouth fell open as he filled her. "Look at me," he murmured. She opened her eyes, looking at him with a dazed expression. "Good girl, like t’see those pretty eyes." The man sighed, unable to resist praising her. He continued to thrust into her slowly, each movement filled with lust and desire.

“Fuck.” She kept her eyes on him as her hands ran over his hot shoulderbaldes, keeping that contact as he dipped all the way back home as deep as he could. Her mouth fell open and a high pitched noise left her throat without her permission, brows furrowed. “It’s never been that d-deep.”

He grinned at her, loving the way her inexperience made her react to him. "That's because no one's ever taken the time to stretch you out right." He leaned down to kiss her neck, his hips continuing to move in slow, deep thrusts.

“Where the fuck have you been, then?” She laughed breathlessly, letting her eyes fall back closed as he kept the thrusts slow and deep, relishing every inch he took. her body was lax and hot, his for the taking. Right now she felt like he could do anything and she would welcome it. “Are all older guys like this, or is it j-just you?”

He chuckled darkly against her neck, "There's a reason why women often prefer older men, doll- but M’gonna say for greeds sake, s’just me." He suckled at her skin, his hands sliding down to grip her thighs and push them back farther, opening her up even more to his slow, deep thrusts.

“Oh, shit.” Her mouth fell open and he welcomed it, sliding his tongue back inside her mouth and humming at the taste of her against him. The fact there was not a single barrier, albeit risky for the first time fucking, made it even hotter.

His movements became gentler, his hands caressing her skin instead of gripping it. "You like that?" he murmured against her lips, his hips rolling into hers instead of thrusting. "You like knowing that there's nothing between us?" He pulled back slightly, looking down at her with a heated gaze. "I want you to look at me when I ask you something," he said, his voice low and commanding as he took her eyes. "Are you on any birth control?"

“Y-Yeah. Uh-huh.” Her eyes wide, she looked up at him hazily as she wrapped her legs further around his hips. “Don’t pull out when you cum. Please- I know m’crazy, but I need… need it.” Y/N knew she was insane for it, but their connection was so strong, every thrust inside of her, hitting places she didn’t know existed prior to this… she needed it.

His expression softened, a coo leaving his mouth as he nodded at her. How precious. "Alright, sweetheart. I promise I won't pull out." A dumb decision on his part too considering they’d just met but in the midst of it all, it was all he wanted to do. His hips began to move again, his pace quickening as he felt the heat of her around him. "You're going to take it all then, aren't you?"

“Yeah.” She mewled. From the sounds and feel alone she knew she was making a mess on his cock, but she had a feeling he was enjoying it every time he snuck a glance between them. “Take everything you give me, Daddy.” It was a risk, but she wanted to see what he’d do.

His face contorted with pleasure, his brow furrowing and his jaw clenching. "Good girl…" he hissed, his voice low and gravelly. He buried his face in her neck and thrust into her with more need, his movements becoming more urgent. "You're going to make me cum, doll."

“Cum.” She begged. “Cum in me. Then fuck it into me. Please.” Her nails dragged over his toned back as she clung to him, his bed creaking as he fucked into her welcoming, wet pussy.

He let out a primal grunt and slammed into her one last time, his cock pulsing as he filled her with his hot, thick cum. He held himself inside her, his hips jerking as he pumped his load deep into her cunt. "Fuck, baby... I'm going to fucking fill you up."

But he wasn’t done. Not in the slightest.

With his cum still pouring into her, he reached under her and grabbed her thighs, spreading them wide apart. Observing the mess he made, he fixed his fingers on her clit as he fucked the cum into her just like she asked. “I gave you what you wanted, darling. Give me what I need too, mm?” His lips brushed her cheek, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm. She just needed a little extra, and he was more than happy to provide.

Y/N squirmed slightly as she felt it creep up on her faster than she could anticipate. The pulse of his cock as it dribbled the last of his cum inside of her, the feel of his facial hair brushing her tender skin and his fingertips rubbing quick circles over her clit, it was impossible to keep from holding back. Heat boiled in her stomach as she tried to tell him, but it came on quicker than she could speak.

A broken moan left her lips as her body shook under him, eyes burning with tears of pleasure as he fucked her messy cunt and continued the circles until she pushed his hand away, grabbing his face and kissing him far more messily than she would have done in any other capacity- but this felt right. Fucked out and wobbly, melting into the bed as he slowly stopped the thrusts and stayed buried in her.

“Mm- baby. Sweetheart…” he pulled back to look at her. “You alright? Tell me how you’re feelin’.” He needed to check in on her, make sure she was feeling properly taken care of. Just by the look of it alone he had a feeling she felt that way, but he wanted to hear it from her pretty lips.

“I’m so good.” She grinned, drunk with the pleasure as she looked up at the handsome man. He was everything that she had dreamt about when she woke up sticky between her thighs. Aged like a fine wine.

“Can we go again?”

[junicult]

!! the bachelors after their first kiss with you

contains ; fluff! gn!(but written with fem in mind)farmer for most. implied male in alex’s. non canon setting (for most). unestablished relationships—pre dating. alcohol usage. smoking (cigarettess).

note ; i had a nice time in my imagination with this one

harvey.

he stares at you, stunned at how easily you were able to do the thing he’s been thinking about for weeks. how soft your lips felt, how comforting your hand on his chest was, and how genuinely intoxicated just one simple kiss from you was already making him feel.

he clears his throat, and almost like you just sucked every word out of him, all he could muster up was a mumbled, “thank you.” he thanked you. for kissing him.

you purse your lips, trying your darnedest not to laugh watching his face just drop, realizing the first thing he said to you after you kissed him for the first time was a thank you.

“oh no, it was my pleasure.” you tease, allowing a small giggle to slip. he sighs like his blood has run cold, too embarrassed to even respond. luckily for him, you’re just too perfect, and you cool his sting by leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. you pull back with a smile, hand cupped over the opposing one, “goodnight harvey. i’ll see you tomorrow. you can thank me for that one, then.”

sam.

he acted almost as quick as you did, the moment he saw your eyes fixate on his lips and lean in, he wasted no time to fill in the gap between you two.

“you kissed me.” he says, face washed in amusement and adrenaline. he remains a solid grip where his hands rest on your lower waist, clear he has no intent on letting you go anytime soon.

“i might’ve.” you murmur, flickering your gaze to and from his. if he didn’t know any better, he’d think—

“are you all shy now? did i make you nervous?” he angles his head to chase your nervously wandering eyes, mischievous grin and tease in his tone. his hand consciously cups the side of your neck, thumb pressing into your jaw to gently force your chin up and maintain eye contact.

you huff, shaking your head. “well, a little! we just kissed!” you try not to sound too whiny—though, the way his grin spreads almost makes you forget that plan.

“aha! i made you nervous! am i so handsome? am i such a good kisser?” he muses, snickering in triumph.

“sam,” you test, narrowing your eyes through your eyelashes.

“what? you dunno know the answer? wanna kiss again to find out?”

shane.

he didn’t actually think you’d lean in, much less keep it going for so long that he’d have to push against you a moment later to give him a second to breathe.

but you shake your head, misinterpreting it all so quickly. “i’m sorry—i’m so sorry, i shouldn’t have kissed you, i don’t know why i did that, i’m sorry—“

“whoa, i wasn’t pushin’ you away,” he immediately rouses, “i’m not mad that you kissed me.” and he snickers lowly, “more like pounced on me.”

“you’re not?” you hum breathlessly, straightening your pants and tucking pieces of your hair back. now your chest bubbles with a new kind of embarrassment. you nibble on your lower lip, attempting to ease your breaths. “i—i dunno why i did that. i don’t usually drink…much less makeout with people while i do.”

you slouch back down on the old, creaky dock next to him. he snorts, tilting his head, “‘m just too irresistible, huh?”

you shoot him a glower. “yeah,” you say like it’s sarcastic, but really, you’re well aware you aren’t drunk enough to start behaving irrationally. “i just didn’t mean to do that.”

“i don’t mind that you kissed me.” he shrugs.

you watch as he takes a swig from his beer can. his eyes focus on the overall still lake in front of you both. “you don’t?”

he almost wants to tease you for all your disbeliefs. he chooses to scoff out a laugh instead, shaking his head. “mm-mm.”

you turn to face the water, gently swinging your dangling legs over the edge. “hm,” you hum back, “maybe we should talk about that when we’re both sober.”

sebastian.

he’s borderline shocked at how easy it was for him to kiss you back—no hesitation after your fingers brushed the back of his hair to pull him in. he’s almost loopy, too, and he’s never been the type to swoon so hard from these kinds of affections. but he’s also learned a lot has changed since he first met you.

“you taste like cigarettes.” you murmur as you step back, licking your lower lip as if to repeat the taste. you turn towards the city lights, and for the first time he’s finding it nearly impossible to follow your gaze.

“i’m sorry,” he truthfully says, absentmindedly stepping down on the previously tossed cigarette butt at his shoe. “i’ve been trying to stop.”

“tastes like you, too. mixed in, i guess.” you note with a smile, “it’s not terrible though. but good, you should try and quit.”

he honestly doesn’t know how to take that—in his mind, he can’t imagine that tastes good, much less the combination any glorious. yet you turn to him again, stuffed hands unfolding from your pockets to reach across for his.

all you had to do was to give him a tiny tug, sliding your hands up his shoulders before he repositioned his own back to where they previously sat on your waist.

“let me bask it in while i can, though.”

alex.

you’ve almost never seen him with this soft, content look on his face. you’re half expecting him to burst into laughter, try to justify his actions with a teasing lilt and offer to pretend like it never happened.

but no. all he does is look at you, watching the way your eyes shift between each of his, evaluating. like he’s waiting for one of you to break.

you take the bait. “why’d you do that?” you murmur, quiet enough the wind almost picks it up.

he shrugs. “i dunno. it felt right.” he hums, and despite his uncertain words, he says it with sincerity. “was that the wrong choice?”

you think for a moment. for you, you surely thought about it for weeks. but the timing certainly didn’t feel appropriate. vulnerability changes a man like him most of all, and the last thing you’d want to do was take advantage of that. you absentmindedly swirl the grains of sand under your fingertips.

“no, i don’t think so.” you respond easily.

he nods. you’ve never seen him this quiet, but despite that, you’ve got an idea of what’s exactly going through his mind. when he turns away, you’re certain.

“you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

“of course not.”

elliott.

he had almost forgotten why he invited you over—just for inspiration on the last couple chapters of his novel, or did he honestly plan for it to go like this?

“so…what happens after they…kiss?” you coyly murmur, still held in his embrace so close you can smell the drop of pomegranate on his lips.

“well, i haven’t written that far just yet,” he pauses to take a breath, “i was hoping they’d finally confess their love.”

he’s so handsome this close, your head still reels and lips feel fuzzy as you struggle to bring back in your even breaths.

you nod, slow and computing. “yeah—no, that sounds good.”

your plump lips hold him in a trance, as do his, making it so hard to concentrate on his words all the while you feel you’re too fixated on them.

“so you believe they love each other? that they should finally tell the other?”

the kiss rendered you thoughtless—what can you expect from a romantic like him? however, the metaphor is not lost on you. and had he let you go at this point, it wouldn’t have been so easy for you to eagerly nod, “absolutely. two people in love should tell each other they’re in love.”